Chapter 2

Melinda Sovert squinted at the bright sunlight that trickled into the room around the blinds drawn down before the bay window. She stirred, groaning softly and rubbing her eyes that were bleary from oversleeping. She blinked until her eyes focused, the sheet falling away from her petite body wrapped in a rumpled nightgown. She peered across the room, and looked at her sister's bed against the opposite wall with chagrin, uttering a forlorn sigh when she heard Heather's voice drifting up from the floor below through the partially open door.

"Not even ten yet and the bubble-head is already on the phone," Melinda muttered under her breath.

She kicked off the sheets angrily, briefly exposing her bare legs and a corner of the crotch of her pink panties before her nightgown fell over them when she rose to her feet. She wondered if she could get her mother to kick Heather off the phone long enough so she could check her email from the PC she shared with her sister. She was forced to discard this idea when she remembered that this was Wednesday, one of the three days of the week that her mother worked at her part time job, so both she and her father would be gone for the day.

"Leaving Miss Bimbo in charge," Melinda completed her thought out loud, as if daring her sister to hear her.

Melinda trotted into the bathroom on her small feet and closed the door behind her with more force than she had intended, and did little to vent her frustration. She reached into the shower stall and whirled the knobs to start the water going so it would get hot when she was ready to use it. She cast a withering look at the junk her older sister had accumulated on the shelf on the shower stall, leaving little room for her own shower things.

Melinda shared everything with Heather, and she hated it. It would not be so bad if it had not turned out to be more a case of Heather having dominion over everything and deigning to suffer Melinda's presence. Even in their bedroom, Heather usurped more and more of the wall space for her own posters of the latest pretty-boy pop star with more looks than talent.

As the water rushed and steamed, Melinda pulled off her nightgown and glanced at herself in the mirror, a deep frown reflecting back at her. Her expression marred what was an otherwise pretty face, caught somewhere between the prettiness of womanhood and the cuteness of childhood. Everything about her body seemed to reflect her life: something in a perpetual state of transition. A late bloomer at thirteen, her breasts were only now beginning to show a faint orb-shape instead of just two small swellings topped with tiny nipples. Her legs were slim and lithe in her calves, but her thighs still held trace amounts of leftover baby fat.

Melinda turned herself one way and then the other in the mirror, her gaze on her still budding mounds. She could not tell if they had grown any further from the previous month. She fingered her straight, rusty-brown hair, twirling a lock in her fingers tightly and letting it go, briefly lamenting on the fact that it never would hold a curl.

Her gaze flicked back up to her face. Two deep brown eyes looked forlornly back.

By this time, steam was starting to fog the mirror in the tiny bathroom. She slipped off her panties, her young mound covered in light fuzz, and stepped into the shower.

Melinda did not linger. She was not that enamored of her body and wanted little contact with it this way. At the same time, as she cleaned herself between her legs, she could not help but let her mind drift.

While her puberty had hit late, it hit suddenly and powerfully. Even before her body had begun to shape itself into something decidedly more feminine than her childhood, her mind had been invaded by initially unwanted thoughts, thoughts that were difficult to ignore when she lay quietly in her bed at night in the darkness.

When she finally indulged them, touching herself in a sensitive place for the first time about a year before, she had managed to drive herself to just short of a peak. It had left her damp but wanting, her frustrated arousal uncomfortable.

It was several weeks before she tried again. When she did, however, she drove herself up and over. The memory of her first orgasm never left her, and she had been eager to repeat it. This is exactly what she had been doing, at least several times a week, indulging herself clandestinely under the covers at night.

Melinda finished her shower, resisting the temptation to use the rare moment of privacy to play with herself. She had done it for so long under the cover of darkness, however, that it did not seem right, or "decent" to do it any other way, and she blushed furiously at what she had been thinking.

Naked, Melinda stepped out of the bathroom, listened, and continued to hear her older sister jabbering away on the phone.

"Aw, shit!" Melinda cursed softly. She threw her nightgown on the bed in frustration and padded quickly over to her dresser, grumbling and pouting like a young child rather than a teenage girl.

She dressed quickly, opting for a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt over fresh underthings, thinking more in terms of comfort than looks. As she pulled her hair out from behind her shirt and let it spill down her back, she grimaced as her sister's voice continued to waft up from below.

She grabbed a magazine from the top of her dresser and flounced down the stairs, stomping her feet heavily and making as much noise as she could. The stairs curved around the small alcove where the phone was kept, allowing her to glance off to the side and see her sixteen-year-old sister Heather Sovert. The older sister was seated crossways in an old easy chair, legs crossed over one hand rest, lazily balancing a sandal on the toes of her raised foot.

"No! You actually dated that guy?" Heather was gushing into the phone with a small smirk on her face, a finger lazily twirling one lock of softly curled, flaming red hair. "Ohmigod, is he really as much a dork as Susan said he was?... Oh, he didn't!... He did?... He didn't!"

"Make up your stupid mind, did he or didn't he?" Melinda said flippantly without looking back at her sister. She jumped off the last step and crossed the living room.

Heather cast an annoyed look at her younger sister's back, her green-tinted eyes dark. "You know, he sounds almost as bad as that Conner kid," Heather said with excessive loudness.

Melinda whirled around and glared at Heather, her skin flushing hot. She said nothing in response. She plopped herself down at the end of the sofa and pretended to read her magazine.

"Yeah, you know the one, that total dweeb Jason Conner," Heather continued, sitting up straight in the chair with a small, sly smile directed at her sister. "Biggest dork in Haven, if you ask me."

Melinda just took a deep breath and tried to keep herself composed. She should have known it was a big mistake confiding anything in her older sister. She knew she would rue the day she had mentioned in a moment of weakness that she thought Jason was cute. That was over a year ago, before the hormones of puberty had fully overcome her, but Heather never let Melinda forget it.

"Yeah, him," Heather continued, then after a pause, she laughed out loud. "Oh, that's nothing! The other day I said 'hello' to him in the sweetest voice I could. Ohmigod, I thought the kid was going to cream in his pants or something."

Melinda gripped the edges of the pages tightly and nearly ripped one out when she turned it with a furious swipe of her hand. She felt heat rising to her cheeks at the imagery her sister's crude remark conjured in her head.

"Yeah, that kid is hopeless. Well, almost I guess. My baby sis has the hots for him."

"I do not!" Melinda shouted, cheeks burning brightly.

"Not that this is saying much, though."

"He'd be better than your loser boyfriend!"

Heather rolled her eyes and rose from her chair. "Hey, hang on a minute, Mel's in her time of the month or something."

"Don't call me Mel! You know I hate that!"

Heather cupped a hand over the mouthpiece of the cordless. "Then stop acting like a little brat for once," she snapped. "Why don't you go play or something? I don't want you listening in on my conversations."

"I want to use the computer."

"Then use it, stupid."

"I want to check email. I can't do it when you're on the phone."

No matter how many times Melinda had pleaded with her parents, they stubbornly refused to get broadband, not wanting the added expense. But then that was just added to a steadily lengthening list of things that she begged for and never got. Like being able to have her own bedroom so she didn't have to share with Heather anymore. Or getting Heather to take only her fair share of their space. Or getting more freedom to go where she wanted when she wanted, and not force her to hang around Heather all the time when neither parent was home.

"Sending love notes to your dork boyfriend?" Heather said with a sly grin.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Melinda shrieked, jumping up from the sofa.

Heather winced. "Pipe down, all right? Look, you'll just have to wait until I'm done."

"Fine," Melinda grunted, dropped down onto the sofa again. She threw her magazine aside and folded her arms.

"Upstairs."

"No."

"Melinda, go upstairs, now."

"Make me."

Heather gave her little sister an exasperated look, but Melinda just stared resolutely back.

Melinda had a love-hate relationship with her sibling. On the one hand, Melinda loved the way Heather's body looked, and ardently wished hers would develop the same way. Heather was beautiful, her body wonderfully filled out into full feminine curves of adulthood. Her graceful hips and slim legs always looked great in the tight jeans that she often wore, the same style of jeans that always looked ridiculous on Melinda's body. Heather's breasts were two prominent, beautifully shaped orbs, and her hair was long and luxurious.

The next moment, Melinda's confidence wavered when Heather's lips curled into a wicked smile.

Heather raised the phone to her face again. "Sorry about that," she said, turning away, her hair flying. "I guess Mel's cranky from not enough sleep. Not surprising considering what she does late at night."

Melinda's mouth dropped open, dread creeping over her.

Heather sat in the chair, smiling evilly at her younger sister. "You don't know about that? Oooo, it's really, really naughty of her. She probably thinks I don't know about it because she does it after dark when everyone is asleep."

Melinda's lower lip quivered, anxiety knotting her stomach, her cheeks glowing red again.

"But she's a lot noisier about it than she thinks," Heather continued smoothly. "Especially when she gets going really good at it."

Melinda gave a strangled cry, her cheeks flaming in mortification. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Haven't guessed it yet? Well, what she's doing is..."

"NO!" Melinda screeched.

Heather paused and gave her younger sister a smug, satisfied smile. "Hang on a minute." She covered the mouthpiece and spoke in a soft voice. "Now, Mel, you have a choice. You be a good little girl and go upstairs until I'm done on the phone, or I tell my friend how you play with your pussy at night."

"I fucking hate you," Melinda hissed through clenched teeth.

"Don't have me tell Mom you've been cursing, either, because you know how she hates that. Now, are you going to be good?"

"What are you going to tell your friend now?"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll leave your virtue intact. Sort of."

Melinda fumed at Heather for a few more moments, swiping at the tears trickling down her cheeks in annoyance. She stood and stomped off towards the stairs.

Heather waited until she was sure her little sister was going to obey her before bringing the phone to her mouth again. "Sorry, the kid has her panties in a twist over it. It's not even that bad. She was just practicing kissing."

Even this, relatively innocuous compared to what Heather could have said, made Melinda feel almost as embarrassed. She fled up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind her.

Melinda threw herself face down onto the bed and sniffled once, but refused to cry. Crying was for babies, and she was no baby anymore. Instead, she curled a hand into a fist and smacked it hard into the mattress. She flipped herself over and grabbed one of her stuffed toys, hurtling it across the room at one of Heather's posters. It bounced harmlessly off the poster and landed on her own dresser, knocking several items to the floor.

Melinda sighed and rolled over to the other side of the bed. She stared at the bay window for a few moments, then hauled herself up and crossed the room. She drew the blinds up and sat down heavily on the sill, sighing deeply as she squinted at the bright sunlight streaming over her.

She felt devastated. Her sister actually knew what she had been doing under the covers all those nights in the dark. Now she'd never have any opportunity to do it!

Melinda wanted to rail at the unfairness of it all. She lifted her eyes and looked out the window, leaning her forehead into the glass. Her gaze drifted down from the tops of the trees that lined the opposite side of the street along the greenbelt down to the road that ran past her house.

She felt trapped. Her mother taking this part time job that summer was the worst thing that ever happened. Her mother actually refused to let Melinda go anywhere by herself or even remain alone in the safety of the house when her mother was not there! Heather did not care much for having Melinda tag along everywhere either, but she seemed to relish the opportunity to boss Melinda around.

Melinda's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a barking dog.

As she watched the street in front of her, she saw a white mongrel burst into view, chasing a thrown stick. A small smile came to her lips as she recognized him. Not long after, Richie walked lazily into view. Melinda idly wondered what the dog had been christened that day.

Melinda watched, hopeful that Jason would be tagging along behind his friend, but Richie remained alone save for the dog. She blushed again, though lightly. She actually did like Jason after a fashion, but she knew perfectly well that Jason had eyes for her sister instead. It was very frustrating for her, living in Heather's shadow all the time, feeling like she had to fight for every scrap of attention or recognition from anyone. She was still considered the baby of the family even at thirteen.

Richie and the dog passed out of view.

Melinda had no idea how long she had been sitting there, listening to the dog's continued, faint barking in the distance towards the intersection, before she was startled by her sister's voice.

"Hey, I'm done with the phone," Heather said in a flat voice.

Melinda jerked her head around, flinching a bit in surprise. She was also nonplussed by her sister's relatively low-keyed tone and neutral look on her face. "Uh, yeah, thanks," she said uncertainly.

"Listen, I want to go to the mall today," Heather began.

"Again?" Melinda cried petulantly. "I don't want to go there."

"And I don't want you hanging around with me, either! So go find something else to do."

Melinda looked askance at her sister and opened her mouth to say something when she heard an odd noise behind her. It had sounded like Buster (or at least that was the name she knew the little white dog when she played with him last), but it had been a very odd, whining yelp. She turned her head back towards the window just in time to see the mongrel tear down the road as if the devil himself were at his tail.

Melinda felt herself shiver. What could have possibly spooked the friendliest dog she ever met that badly?

"Hello? Earth to Melinda?"

Melinda blinked and looked blankly at her sister. "Huh?"

"I said, go find something else do to, or was that too complicated for you? Ask your boyfriend Jason the Wonder Dweeb to explain it to you. He's supposed to be the brainy one."

"I said, he's not... !"

"Look, I don't care, okay? I just don't want my baby sister tagging along today."

"Like I want to hang out with you and your bubble-headed friends?" Melinda said acidly. "I don't have a choice. Mom said I have to."

"Well, we don't have to tell her, do we?"

Melinda looked at her sister in surprise, turning around to face her. "Wait, you want me to go off by myself? And not tell Mom?"

"By George, I think she's got it."

"You're actually asking me to do you a favor?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. How about it?"

"Get bent, Heather."

"Look, you just said you didn't want to hang out with me!" Heather said, exasperated. "What the hell's the problem?"

Inside, Melinda was actually jumping at the chance to get away from her sister for a day, but she didn't like the idea of doing Heather any favors, not after what she almost did. Not to mention there was always an ulterior motive behind anything Heather did. "Why do you want to go alone?" Melinda demanded.

"None of your damn business."

"It is if you want me not to tell Mom you left me by myself."

"You do that, and I'll tell my friend what you've really been doing at night."

Melinda's cheeks burned again, but she refused to back down. "Yeah, so what?" she said, trying to sound defiant, though there was a nervous quaver in her voice, and her heart pounded. "Maybe I don't care."

"Yeah, right."

"So what is it? You want to go sneak off with your boyfriend or something?"

Melinda, who could read her big sister like a book, picked up on the tiny smile immediately.

"You do want to go sneak off with him somewhere!" Melinda cried triumphantly.

"I said that's none of your business!" Heather cried.

"And you think it's a big deal for me to play with myself!"