Melody

They continue talking and the longer it takes for them to wrap it up, the more impatient I become.

"What's she saying?" I ask him in a low whiny voice.

He turns his back to me after taking a glance in my direction, "Yes, yes. I'll explain it more when you get here."

I fold my arms underneath my chest, scanning the desolate office room that's cluttered with papers and boxes. He sits in the chair and I can't help but roll my eyes. I lean my back against the wall by the door. Jesus, how hard is it to say, "Come by and I'll explain more." then hang up?

"Bloody hell!" his loud outburst makes me flinch and sit up straight. I curiously watch him again, fighting the urge to snatch the phone to figure out what's being said. "Well, you tell that little revolting courtesan that if I ever see her, I'll as father says Lift the skirt and expose the truth."

He pauses and with his left hand holding the phone to his left ear, his anxious right-hand scratches against the wooden table, sending an ungodly noise floating through the air and into my sensitive ears.

"Victoria, with all due respect, I don't care. I've done everything for her and she - she," there's another pause, which lasts for maybe five minutes before he jumps up from his chair and runs his free hand through his short hair, "I don't care anymore. If she has his child, then so be it. For all I care they can both burn in hell."

I furrow my eyebrows at his uncouth statement, then relaxes a bit when he fixes what he said, "Of course not. I meant Amanda and Richard. I'm angry, but I'm not that angry. Anyways, I gotta go. Send the Wellington boys over here so they can help break us out."

A smile pulls at my lips at the thought of being free. For my entire stay here I've been mostly thinking about reuniting with my family and I'd completely forgotten that it was them who placed me here, to begin with, and now I don't even want to be bothered with their presence. If we escape, I'm gonna start my own family someway and somehow.

"Bye." he sends her a farewell in a low voice.

He hangs up the phone but stands there leaning against the table. I walk closer to him and attempt to touch his back, but I stop when he talks, "They'll be here a week from now. All thirteen of them." He gradually turns to face me while also continuing to give me a rundown of the plan, "The oldest boys will locate the laundry room with the Orderlies' clothes. They'll change and roam around, pretending to work here. The youngest ones will pretend to be patients and when they're given the signal, they'll tussle with each other in the recreation room."

"This plan sounds good, but how do you know that it'll even work?"

"I just do," he responds plainly. "Come on."

***

After being unable to find Annabelle, Cody and I sat on the sofa in front of the window. The fan which rests underneath the window is supplying us with some much-needed cool air.

There are only three people in this sweltering room. One of which is an elderly patient and the other two are Orderlies standing by the door to the rooms while watching her sweep up whatever is on the floors.

He doesn't put his arm around me like he normally does. He just sits awkwardly with closed-off body language. I desperately want to ask him what went on, but the fear of him becoming even angrier held my tongue.

I hate seeing him so miserable. I suppose Anna is right, he's fascinating to me and maybe I do like him a little.

"Please stop staring at me," He sighs sadly, then shakes his head while keeping his eyes shut, "I know you're judging me and I know I'm such an idiot for letting a girl break my heart."

I furrow my eyebrows again. I've never heard of a man getting emotional over anything. I mean my father did cry when the Great Depression began, but other than that, I just figured that men were emotionless creatures.

"I - loved her so bloody much." his greenish-brown eyes that remain trained to the window become almost glossy as tears form at the brims. "We were going to elope a week before I was put here."

He looks into my eyes as he continues to pour his heart out about whom I'm assuming must be Amanda. I start to speak, but he continues, "She's marrying that tyrant to spite me."

Not knowing what to say in response, I just wrapped my arms around him, then pulls him in for a hug. He rests his chin on my left shoulder, his hands on my waist but not too far down where it's unacceptable.

He begins to bawl and my ears gradually fill with a ringing induced by his uncontrollable wails. Leaving nothing for me to do except gently caress his head and upper back, I do just that while shushing him like a colicky baby.

"Please don't cry." I begin to whine. What? I've never been the one to get emotional. At least not first. I've said this a million times in the past.

I squeeze the back of his gown, but we pull away from each other when an orderly yells out for us to stop touching. Him gradually and me as quickly as possible.

His cheeks are flushed as well as stained with tears; more begin to spill at a rapid pace, so I wipe them away while giving him a reassuring smile.

He switches his gaze from one eye to the other at a slow speed, almost like a flickering light. I notice that his eyes drift down to my lips. What is he looking at? Are my lips chapped?

I instinctively licked my lips. He leans forward and presses his damp, soft lips against mine. What the--?

My eyes widen at his unexpected action. No complaints whatsoever, because I'll admit that this does feel - nice, but this is just something I'm not used to.

I start to give in, but when I feel his tongue slide into my mouth, I pull away swiftly and wipe my mouth. Now I'm completely taken aback.

I stare at him with a confused expression, "Cody!"

He gives me an equally confused expression, "What? It's called French kissing."

"It's gross," I exclaim while vigorously swiping my lips of any remaining residue.

He laughs and shakes his head. "You're a mess."

I smile at his ironic statement.