Chapter 10

Matt

I was hit with a sudden rush of excitement when the notification lit up my phone screen: a new picture message.

Sliding onto one of the locker room benches, I opened it. My breath hitched at the sight, a tantalizing closeup of a woman's cleavage. It was enough to send my pulse racing, a lump forming in my throat.

I went to zoom out, but there was nothing else there. Just cleavage. I could just barely make out a collarbone on the upper left side of the screen, but nothing more. Not even a lock of hair.

“Why the mystery?” I muttered to myself, feeling a twinge of frustration.

A part of me craved to see more, to uncover the enigma behind the mask. But another part of me also reveled in the mystery, in the secret thrill of the chase.

This girl was mysterious, and that, to me, was sexy. So many girls who I had come into contact with were so quick to tell me everything, to show me everything. But this girl… She was a closed book with a lock and key.

With the picture open on my phone, I leaned back, my gaze losing focus as I imagined the girl behind the screen.

I imagined a button nose, a sly smile. I imagined a fiery girl with an attitude to boot. It wasn’t healthy to create fantasies, and I knew that; but she left me no choice. All I had to go off of was her curvy body and her low, sultry voice.

That night, in the darkness of the bathroom and my drunken stupor, I couldn’t even see the color of her eyes. She was a shadow, an enigma. A succubus.

Suddenly, my phone was yanked from my grip. I looked up to see Enzo, his eyes wide as he glanced at the screen. “Matt, you dirty dog!” he teased, his grin widening. “Sexting some girl, are we?”

"Give it back, Enzo!" I protested, my cheeks heating up.

But he was already waving my phone in the air, taunting me while the rest of the team laughed. I shot up from my seat, lunging for my phone.

A wild scuffle ensued, but it was all in good spirits. We were so much faster now ever since Nina had Claimed all of us. It made our raucous play fights all the more fun.

Eventually, I managed to snatch it back. We left the locker room laughing, my embarrassing moment turning into a shared joke.

As night fell, I found myself sitting on Jack's couch, the glowing screen of the video game offering a mindless distraction.

Yet, my thoughts were elsewhere, on the girl in the picture, on the upcoming ball. I wondered how she would look, what she would wear. The anticipation was delicious, making the wait nearly unbearable.

My gaze shifted as a movement caught my eye. It was Celeste, darting past the living room.

Her gaze landed on me for a brief second, and she froze on the stairs, her delicate hand gripping the railing while she held something else in her other hand; a bundle of something. A towel?

We didn’t normally interact, but for some reason, I offered a slight smile and a wave. Maybe I felt a little more comfortable after running into her at the clothing store. Maybe the strange look on her face compelled me to acknowledge her at that moment.

But instead of the shy, polite smile I usually received, she turned abruptly and fled up the stairs.

Something gnawed at my gut, a strange unease settling in. I turned to Jack, who was engrossed in the game.

“Hey, is your sister okay?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Jack shrugged, not tearing his eyes away from the screen. “Probably just her time of the month or something,” he grumbled.

His words made me wince. That was his sister he was talking about, but the indifference in his voice was unsettling. I wanted to say something, to defend her, but I bit my tongue.

Jack and Celeste had an…interesting relationship. I didn’t know much about their past; Jack and I spent a lot of time together, but Jack wasn’t exactly the type to have deep talks about his life. He wasn’t Enzo. I considered him a good friend, and I think that he even considered me to be a best friend, but we didn’t really know each other.

Still, I observed their relationship. Celeste was meek, mild. She took Jack’s verbal beatings and never said anything in response. She was surprisingly hardy in that respect, or at least, she never outwardly showed that his cruel words bothered her.

She was quiet and hardly ever said a word to me or anyone else; whenever I would see her, it was normally only in passing, or when she had a serving dish in her hand like some sort of maid.

Jack said horrible things about her, too. He called her fat and ugly to her face, right in front of everyone, and let other people bully her—to a certain extent. I did recall one time that he kicked a guy out of a party for getting especially aggressive with his rude comments about Celeste.

But aside from that, Jack often called her stupid and useless, and sometimes even seemed to go out of his way to make her uncomfortable in front of people.

Honestly, I didn’t entirely get why I even hung out with that guy. Something drew me to their house, though. Maybe boredom. Maybe something more.

I didn’t think that Celeste was ugly or fat. She was sort of cute, in a geeky way.

She was…different. She didn’t wear clothes that fit, and she was usually wearing a hat or had her hood up. She had a pair of dorky glasses that were too small for her face, and she never wore makeup. Her skin wasn’t great, and it was obvious that she didn’t take the best care of herself.

But she wasn’t ugly. She had pretty eyes; actually, they were mismatched. Heterochromia, I think it was called. Her left eye was a deep, chocolate brown, and her right eye was an emerald green.

She had a cute, round face and a button nose, and always wore a little silver ring on her left pinky finger.

Maybe it wasn’t right for me to notice so many details about my friend’s younger sister, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t deny it when a pretty girl was in front of me.

Not that I had any interest in her in the slightest. The bro code made it entirely clear that sisters, especially younger sisters, were strictly off limits.

So many times, I wanted to tell Jack off, tell him that he shouldn’t be talking about his sister like that. But it wasn't my place to interfere in their sibling dynamic, no matter how much it bothered me.

But as I left their house that night, my mind kept wandering back to Celeste.

The look on her face, the way she'd fled at my greeting, it was all so unlike her. Sure, she was shy, but…not like that. And strangely, for some reason it made me think of the mystery girl again.

As I drifted off to sleep that night, my mind filled with images of the ball, and of two girls: one shrouded in mystery, another quietly slipping into the background.

Neither of them were related, at least, not in my mind.

But I couldn’t deny the strange feeling in my chest when I woke up the next morning.