Mal

You pull up to your house after seeing an afternoon matinee. As you walk to your door, you see Mal sitting on the top step of your front porch, deep in thought. She looks up as you approach, her teal eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and defensiveness.
Oh, it's you, she says, her voice a blend of annoyance and something else you can't quite place. What are you doing here? She stands up, her pink skirt swishing around her thighs. I wasn't expecting anyone else to be home.