Chapter 60

Celeste

The night had been calm, the serenity of the forest only disrupted by the chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. But the sound that echoed through the trees was something else entirely—a growl, raw and guttural, the sound of a creature lurking in the dark.

“Why do you want me to run?” I whispered to Matt, my voice shaking, the trepidation evident in my tone.

The growl came again, louder and more chilling this time. It was closer, so much closer. Before I could react, Matt’s eyes locked onto mine, filled with urgency. “Just run, Rose!” he yelled.

But I hesitated, trying to understand, to make sense of the sudden terror that gripped me. Why would a single coyote approach two humans?

Yet another growl cut through my thoughts, a sound layered with menace, confirming the peril we faced wasn't singular. There was more than one.

“Run!” Matt's voice cracked, jolting me from my paralysis.

Without a second thought, I turned and fled, my feet pounding the forest floor. Behind me, I could hear the commotion of a scuffle—the snapping of twigs, the flurry of movement, and even more growls.

They were amplified, hinting at the presence of multiple predators, circling, watching, waiting.

My heart raced, matching the frantic tempo of my footsteps.

A part of me wanted to turn back, to make sure Matt was alright, to help him if he needed it. But the overpowering fear that gripped me propelled me forward, urging me to put as much distance as possible between myself and the source of the growls.

The forest became a blur. The once enchanting trees and the serene nocturnal landscape transformed into a hostile terrain. The moon's glow, which earlier seemed magical, now barely penetrated the dense canopy.

My visibility was limited, and my path uncertain.

Branches reached out, catching at my clothes, scratching my skin. Thorns pricked my arms and face, drawing stinging lines of pain across my body. My lungs ached, and my breath came out in short gasps. But the terror drove me on.

With every step, the sounds behind me grew fainter, replaced by the cacophony of my own flight. The deafening thud of my heart and the rush of wind past my ears made it impossible to discern whether the creatures, or Matt, were anywhere close.

A particularly vicious branch whipped across my face, leaving a stinging gash on my cheek. Tears welled up, not just from the pain, but from the crushing weight of uncertainty, fear, and regret.

Why had we come here? Why had I asked to meet him in such a place? Memories flooded in—Matt’s enigmatic smile, his mysterious nature, and those deep conversations under the stars. But they were all pushed aside by the reality of the present, the desperate need for safety.

With a start, I realized I couldn't hear the growls anymore. But that small relief was quickly overshadowed by another realization: I had no idea where I was. The path we had taken, our trail of breadcrumbs, had been lost in my frantic dash for survival.

I stopped abruptly, my chest heaving. Taking shallow breaths, I tried to collect myself. Around me, the trees stood tall and imposing, their trunks indistinguishable from one another. I strained my ears, trying to pick up on any familiar sound, perhaps the distant murmur of the stream we had crossed earlier or Matt's voice calling out to me.

But the forest remained silent, save for the soft whispers of the wind rustling the leaves.

With a sinking feeling, I realized that I was utterly and hopelessly lost.

“Matt!” I called out, hoping he would be nearby, hoping he would guide me out of this wilderness. But there was no answer, only the eerie calls of night creatures and my own breathing, heavy with dread.

The more I walked and tried to find my way back toward Matt, the more disoriented I became. All of the trees looked alike in the moon’s pallid glow, their shadows stretching out like fingers, ready to pull me in. The once familiar forest was now a maze, and I was caught in its snare.

After what felt like hours, I gave up my search, my back pressed against a tree. The dark woods seemed to close in on me. Every snapped twig or rustling bush heightened my senses.

“Matt!” I tried once more, my voice desperate. Still no reply, aside from a single hoot from an owl.

Suddenly, the distant sound of footsteps shattered the silence, drawing closer and closer. Panic consumed me. My fingers instinctively closed around a hefty stick lying nearby, clutching it as my last line of defense.

If it was that creature, or worse, I was ready.

Rounding the corner of a thicket, a silhouette appeared, bathed in a soft silver light. My grip on the stick tightened, ready to swing.

“It’s me, Rose,” came the familiar voice, stopping me in my tracks.

Matt emerged, his eyes filled with concern and a touch of amusement. “You know, I’m not the big bad wolf,” he said gently. “You don't need to beat me with that.”

Feeling a rush of relief, I dropped the stick, wrapping my arms around myself. “I was scared. I heard that growl... What was that?”

Matt paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was a coyote. But don’t worry, I chased it off. They’re usually not this bold.”

"I thought they hunted in packs," I whispered, recalling snippets of nature documentaries. It sounded like more than one animal, too, I thought to myself, but decided not to say anything just yet.

“Yeah, usually,” he responded, his voice contemplative. “The poor thing must have been sick or something to be wandering alone like that. But it’s gone now.”

The weight of the evening’s events pressed down on me, and I leaned heavily against a tree, suddenly exhausted. Matt stood in front of me, his presence both comforting and unsettling.

He looked at me with an intensity that made my heart race. “The woods can be a dangerous place at night, Rose. You shouldn’t be here, especially not without a good reason. You better have a compelling answer to my proposition if you wanted to come out here.”

As Matt spoke, he slowly closed the distance between us. There was dirt on his clothes from the scuffle with the coyote, but his lips were being tugged upward by a gentle smile, and his blue eyes shined in the moonlight.

“I do have a good reason, actually,” I murmured, noticing now how close he was standing to me. He smelled like musk and cold air.

“And what would that be?” he asked. “What’s your decision, Rose?”

His face, illuminated by the moonlight, was a juxtaposition of sharp angles and soft curves. In that instant, the danger of the forest, the fear, all seemed to fade away, replaced by an overwhelming awareness of him.

Stupidly, without thinking, I blurted out, “I thought about it... and I want to be your girlfriend.”

Silence followed.

I had come out here to tell him that I couldn’t continue with our relationship. I had come out here to remove my mask, to tell him who I really was, and end things with him cleanly. Whatever happened after that, I was prepared for it.

But I wasn’t prepared to say something so stupid, so thoughtless.

And now, as I looked up at Matt in the moonlight, five words repeated themselves in my mind:

Why did I say that?!