Love from, Hell

Her parents insisted that Malcolm stay for dinner. Julie could tell that even though Malcolm hadn’t chatted with them or extended any of the usual social graces, her parents were charmed by him. In spite of himself, Julie noted ironically. Her mother pulled a chicken up from the freezer and made roast chicken with baby potatoes and beans, a hopelessly white meal but delicious none the less.

During the meal, her parents kept up an easy flow of questions, asking Malcolm about his background and his school. Malcolm told them in quiet, short answers that his father owned a business in Phoenix and that he went to school in Kansas though not at Julie’s university. Julie couldn’t tell if he was lying, his face was perfectly honest. He said that he was majoring in languages- primarily Russian (of course) and Latin. Although Malcolm hadn’t said two words to Julie since the time they’d arrived at her house, Julie couldn’t help but intercede.

“Latin? That’s really cool. What’s it like?” she asked, curious.

Malcolm looked at her from the corner of his eye. “It’s… incredibly interesting. A little useless, since it’s a dead language, I know," he said with his small smile, looking back at Julie’s parents.

Heather beamed at Malcolm. Julie supposed she understand her parents' strong reaction to Malcolm although he gave off so little personality. After all, she’d practically lost her mind over him when all he’d done ignore her.

But that was in the past. Julie was determined to get through this dinner and say goodnight and goodbye to Malcolm and that would be it. Although deep down it pained her to know that she’d never see him again, she knew that it would be better. She couldn’t stand to be around him, knowing that he didn’t want to be her friend and that really he wanted nothing to do with her.

Her mother filled Julie in on her older brother, Kyle’s activities. Kyle was two years older than Julie and currently in Israel at a Palestinian/Jewish peace camp with his band Shredded Elastics. They had way too much shrieking in their music for Julie’s taste, but she was proud of her brother anyway. He hadn’t made it big yet- but Julie was sure that there was a market out there for the kind of music him and his buddies made.

When her father asked her how she and Malcolm had met, Julie looked at Malcolm, unsure of what to say. He, of course, simply stayed concentrated on his food, calm and placid, unwilling to help her. Julie felt bad for telling a little white lie, but didn’t want her parents to know that Malcolm had been a stranger when he’d picked her up- so she told them that they’d met each other at a couple of parties and knew each other through friends of friends. Malcolm, thankfully, said nothing to dispute this.

After dinner, they all went and sat in the living room. Julie happily took in the familiar artwork as she sank into the old brown leather couch. Her mother sat next to her, her father in his Laz-ee boy and Malcolm sat in the other reclining chair. They chatted a little longer about Julie’s brother, ignoring the news on the TV and drinking coffee. Malcolm stayed quiet and declined a cup of coffee when it had been offered.

“Where are you headed for spring break Malcolm?” Ken asked him when there was a comfortable lull in the conversation.

Julie looked at Malcolm.

“I’m not sure yet,” Malcolm said after a moment.

Julie stared curiously at him, trying and failing not to care that he had no plans.

“You have no where to stay?” Heather asked, frowning.

Julie felt a little envious that her mother could get away with being concerned but she herself could not. Malcolm didn’t reply, and seemed to be deep in thought.

“Well you must spend the night dear. We can’t let you go off with no where to go,” Heather insisted.

Ken looked from Julie to Malcolm than back at his wife, apprehensive to the idea of Julie’s male friend spending the night. But he calmed. “You’re welcome to stay Malcolm,” he added.

Malcolm looked up at them and then at Julie. “Thank you," he said, quietly grateful.

Julie leaned back against the couch cushions and fought the urge to glare at her parents. Malcolm didn’t like her and the more he hung around, the more the fact would pain her. But she couldn’t stay mad at her parents. They were only being kind. And really, the stupid part of her that wanted to keep Malcolm around was quickly winning.

Malcolm's POV

Malcolm lay on the couch, staring at the textured ceiling. The room smelled faintly like wool and something pleasantly sweet. He didn’t know the sweet smell; it wasn’t a scent he recognized. But it was nice. Malcolm adjusted his neck and blinked. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what to make of any of it.

Julie's POV

Julie slept in late the next morning. When she finally woke up, she could smell the familiar smell of her bed sheets and the first thing she saw was her bedroom wall. It was that same spring green color- the only difference between the room she’d grown up and the room she was in now was that there were fewer posters on the walls and almost no clutter on her desk, since she’d taken most of her stuff with her to college. Still, a few of her personal touches made the room her own.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes and then looked at the digital alarm clock. It was 10. Julie wondered what Malcolm was doing- or if he was still there. Right. She wasn’t supposed to care. Julie shook her head and pushed back the covers. She stumbled out of her room and down the stairs. She walked into the kitchen and paused. The house was silent. Julie quickly checked in the living room. There was no sign of anyone- nothing to suggest Malcolm had even been there the night before.

“… Mom?” Julie called out. She walked back into the kitchen then looked out the window overlooking the backyard.

Her mother was walking around the garden, pointing out different plants and chatting away. Malcolm was following her, nodding occasionally. Julie leaned over the sink to get a better look. Malcolm had his hands in his pockets and his face looked politely interested. His casual stance was stunning. Julie’s mother, thrilled to have someone new to show off her plants to, prattled happily to her audience.

Julie could hear the rise and fall of her mother’s voice. Julie bit her lip and looked down and then up again. Why couldn’t he just pretend to like her? Julie narrowed her eyes a little, thinking. Her mother was lifting a sprig of basil for Malcolm to sniff. Julie watched as Malcolm ducked his head and took a quick whiff of the basil. He said a few words to Julie’s mom and she smiled. Julie smiled a little.

When the two came back in, Julie was sitting at the breakfast table, eating a bowl of cornflakes.

“Oh morning Julie!” Heather said breezily.

Julie smiled at her. “Morning,” she replied, making a point of not adding ‘mom’ to the end, testing to see if Malcolm would say anything back.

He didn’t and instead put the handful of herbs he’d been carrying on to the kitchen counter.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” Heather asked Julie as she began to wash off the herbs.

“Good. I haven’t been sleeping too well these past few nights,” Julie admitted.

Malcolm looked up at her suddenly, staring frustratingly at her because of her comment, and startling Julie. She stared back at him. Julie was pretty sure her mother was talking to her, but she wasn’t hearing anything. Her entire focus was on the staring match with Malcolm, which she would probably lose as his eyes bored into hers. Finally she broke away.

“What mom?” she asked.

“I said I’m glad you had a good sleep because I’d like you to help to me wash the sedan today,” Heather said. The family had two cars- her dad’s pick up and her mom’s Toyota sedan.

“K.” Julie said and made herself focus on finishing her cornflakes.