Chapter 17 – Imaginary Friend

Since that drunken night, the shadow had always been there. Watching. Lurking. Never close enough to touch, never far enough to forget. It should have terrified her, but instead, it became her twisted sense of comfort—her imaginary friend in the darkness.

Tonight was no different.

Anastasia smirked at the familiar silhouette before sliding into her car. "You keeping an eye on me, huh? Good luck with that," she muttered, shaking her head as she pulled out onto the road.

Her destination? Matt's dorm. It had been too long since she saw her brother, and after everything with Dylan, she needed the distraction. Sean was in Harvard, lost in the world of law, while Matt had immersed himself in football and a BA in sports. Meanwhile, she was left to pick up the pieces of whatever mess Dylan had left behind.

The thought of him made her grip the wheel tighter.

"DAMN YOU, DYLAN!" she screamed into the empty road, slamming the brakes. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths.

Then she saw it.

The shadow.

Right there. In the rearview mirror.

A boy.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she whipped around.

Nothing.

When she turned back, the shadow was gone.

"Jesus, Ana, you're losing it," she whispered, forcing her hands to stop shaking as she pressed on the gas.

By the time she reached Matt's dorm, she had convinced herself it was all in her head. She knocked. No answer. Typical. Matt probably had his headphones on, completely oblivious to the world.

The door was unlocked.

She stepped inside—and immediately regretted it.

The unmistakable sound of heavy breathing, hushed moans, and the rhythmic creaking of a mattress hit her ears like a slap.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" she blurted, spinning on her heel.

The girl atop the muscular, inked-up man gasped, scrambling for a sheet.

"Ana?"

Anastasia turned back, eyes widening.

"MATT?!"

Matt grumbled, shoving a pillow over his face. "Perfect. My sister just cockblocked me."

"Oh, gross! Gross! Gross!" Anastasia covered her face. "I'm leaving! Just—keep your fluids away from my personal space!"

"Well, the moment's dead now, so thanks for that," Matt groaned, grabbing his shirt.

The blonde girl giggled, slipping her dress back on. "Hey, Ana."

"Hi, Jenny. Sorry to, uh… interrupt your acrobatics."

"It's okay. We've already had three rounds. He's all out of stamina now." Jenny winked at Matt, who ran a hand down his face.

"Don't challenge me, babe. I can go for a fourth."

"Oh my god. I'm going to vomit." Anastasia gagged dramatically.

Jenny kissed Matt's cheek. "See you later at the party."

"Bye, Jenny," Anastasia said quickly, practically shoving her out the door before whirling on her brother.

"Matthew John Goodwin!"

Matt smirked, ruffling his black hair. "Yes, Anastasia Marilyn Goodwin?"

"Since when do you have tattoos, earrings, and THAT hair?" She gestured wildly at him.

"Since three months ago."

Her eyes narrowed. "Which is when you started dating Jenny."

"Pure coincidence," he said innocently, stretching his arms so the tattoos flexed.

"Yeah, sure," she deadpanned.

He flopped onto his bed. "So, what brings you here?"

Anastasia hesitated. She hadn't planned to explain, but the weight of Dylan's betrayal pressed too hard on her chest.

"Dylan has choices to make," she muttered.

Matt let out a low whistle. "Yikes. That bad?"

"Oh, it's nuclear." She dropped onto the chair. "Can I crash here tonight?"

"Yeah, but I gotta kick Johnny out first. You are NOT sleeping in his bed."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't trust whatever biohazards are in there."

"Oh, please. You just want your bed free for Jenny."

Matt pointed at her. "Both things can be true."

She rolled her eyes, standing. "Fine. I'll get ready for the party while you handle that."

She disappeared into the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.

Tonight, she wasn't going to be the girl left behind, the girl waiting for answers, the girl broken by betrayal.

Tonight, she was going to be fire.

With practiced ease, she curled her hair, dark waves cascading over her shoulders. Her makeup was sultry, smoky, daring. The dress? A fitted, deep-red masterpiece that clung in all the right places. The masked ball theme was perfect. Tonight, no one would know her, and she could be whoever she wanted.

When she stepped out, Matt's reaction was instant. His mouth dropped.

"Who the hell are you?"

Anastasia smirked, twirling. "A goddess?"

"More like a walking heart attack." Matt ran a hand down his face. "Seriously, you expect me to let you walk into a frat party looking like that? I'll have to fistfight half the guys there."

"Oh, please. If anything, I'll be protecting you, Junior."

Matt scoffed. "Older but I'm bigger."

She winked, grabbing her clutch. "Let's go, little brother. Tonight, the world remembers my name."