Chapter 44

Celeste

We were on the road for a while, the town’s lights slowly fading behind us, and the rhythmic hum of the car was almost hypnotizing.

I found myself glancing at Matt every so often, catching his profile in the dim glow of the dashboard. I could sense an easiness about him, a calm that made me feel comfortable.

“So,” I finally said, breaking the silence, “where are we going for our date?”

Matt glanced at me, a playful smile on his lips. “I’m taking you to a nice restaurant outside of town that overlooks the ocean,” he said. “I thought it might be a place where you could feel comfortable, away from the gossips in town.”

I looked at him, surprised. “You did?”

He nodded, his eyes on the road. “I could tell that you like your privacy. I wanted to pick a spot for you that would make you feel at ease.”

I couldn’t help but smile at this, feeling a warmth spread through me. It was as though Matt was being incredibly considerate of my wishes. I appreciated it more than I could say.

“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “That means a lot to me.”

He glanced at me, his eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome, Mystery Girl.”

There was a slight silence, but it was quickly broken by Matt, who spoke with curiosity laced throughout his voice. “By the way,” he said, guiding the car around a wide turn, “I’ve been meaning to ask… ‘Mystery Girl’ is cute and all, but do you have anything else I can refer to you by?”

I felt my face turn pale beneath my mask. “I won’t give you my name,” I said, almost a little more coldly than I meant.

Matt shook his head. “I didn’t mean to ask for your real name. But surely you have a pseudonym or something, since it’s apparently so important for you to hide your identity.”

I paused for a moment. Matt was right; calling me ‘Mystery Girl’ all night was bound to get tedious. And I had been using a fake name for my dance crew, after all.

“You can call me Rose,” I finally said. Even just saying it out loud almost made me feel as though my alter ego was becoming stronger, pushing aside the timid Celeste. “Just Rose.”

“Alright, then, Just Rose,” Matt said with a warm smile. “That’s a pretty name. What made you choose it? I’m assuming it is, in fact, not your real name.”

I nodded. “You would be correct,” I said. “And… I don’t know. Roses have always been my favorite flowers.”

“Why’s that?”

I paused for a moment, thinking, before I answered. “It’s the thorns,” I finally said. “Roses are so beautiful, but they can cut you without warning.”

There was a silence after I spoke. I began to wonder if my answer was cringy; but at the same time, it was true. It was how I really felt. But then again… was it how Celeste felt, or how Rose felt?

“I can’t think of a better reason to love a flower,” Matt said thoughtfully. “The thorns. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

We drove in comfortable silence for a little while longer, the night wrapping around us, the soft murmur of the radio filling the car. I found myself relaxing, letting go of the tension that had built up inside me.

When we finally pulled up to the restaurant, I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of it. It was a beautiful place, with huge windows that offered a breathtaking view of the ocean. The soft glow of the lights inside beckoned, and I felt a flutter of excitement in my stomach.

Matt came around to my side of the car and opened the door for me, holding out his hand. I took it, feeling the strength and warmth of his fingers as they closed around mine.

He wrapped his arm around me as we walked to the entrance, his touch gentle and reassuring. I couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling a sense of security that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Once inside, we were guided to a table that overlooked the ocean. The view was stunning, and I found myself mesmerized by the waves as they danced in the moonlight.

“This is beautiful,” I murmured as the waiter showed us to a private table overlooking the ocean. “You have nice taste, Matt.”

Matt smirked, pulling out my chair for me like a gentleman. I felt pleasantly surprised by it all; hockey players weren’t exactly known for their decorum and gentlemanliness. They were all supposed to be rugged womanizers; or at least, that was the impression I always got.

But Matt was different. He was gentle and soft-spoken. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was always like this, or if he was just putting on an air to make a good impression.

Matt ordered us a bottle of red wine, slipping the waiter a $20 bill so as not to ID me; another thoughtful, although illegal, gesture. I took a sip, savoring the rich flavor as it slid down my throat. I looked at Matt, my curiosity piqued.

“So tell me,” I said, leaning forward, “what do you do for fun? When you’re not playing hockey or going on dates with mysterious girls?”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I like to read, believe it or not. I also enjoy hiking, and spending time with my family.”

I found myself smiling, pleased to discover that he was more than just a jock. “That's nice. Family is important.”

He nodded, his eyes serious. “Very important,” he said. “I have a little sister, Patricia. She’s a good kid.”

I cocked my head to the side; Matt had never mentioned a little sister before around my brother, and this was the first I had heard of it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said with a laugh. “No one knows about my sister except for some of my closest friends. I like to keep it that way.”

“Why?” I asked, feeling a bit confused.

Matt was silent for a moment. His face seemed to fall a little as he sipped his wine, supposedly steeling himself for a response.

“I’m sorry,” I interjected, feeling my face turn a slight shade of pink. “I don’t mean to pry.”

But Matt shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… My little sister is disabled. She had brain cancer when she was really little, and although she beat it in the end, it… left scars. I won’t go too much into detail, but I’ll just say this: she will never be able to live on her own as a fully independent person. The removal of the tumors in her brain led to some damage that can never be repaired.”

My eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, instinctively reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “I had no idea.”

“That’s the thing,” he said with a laugh. “Of course you had no idea, because I don’t like to tell anyone. In the past, when I was more liberal about telling people, they judged her. Called her all sorts of names, even bullied her because of her condition. So really, I’m glad you didn’t know until just now; it means that my protection of her has been effective.”

A slight silence fell over the table. Hearing Matt’s story made my heart ache, but it also filled me with a sense of softness for him that hadn’t been there before. To think that he was working so hard to keep his sister safe was endearing.

I almost asked him why he hangs out with my brother, but stopped myself just in time, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t reveal that information, not now. Not ever.

“Of course,” he continued, “there are some experimental treatments, but they’re very expensive. That’s why I want to become a successful hockey player.”

“For the money?” I asked.

Matt nodded. “I mean, I do love hockey; don’t get me wrong. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that I want to do it for the nice paycheck if I can get into the big leagues. Maybe then I’ll be able to afford Patricia’s treatments.”

“Hockey is a dangerous sport,” I said. “What if you sustained an injury that would make you retire early?”

Much to my surprise, Matt’s face came over with a determined grin. “That’s why I’m in the physical therapy program,” he said. “If all else fails, I’ll be the one treating other hockey players’ injuries.”

“Wow,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “That’s…”

“Surprising?” Matt interjected. “I guess you thought hockey players were all meatheads, right?”

I felt my face go red. “I didn’t mean that…”

But Matt just smiled. “I’m just teasing, Mystery Girl. Now… Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

We talked some more, about everything from music to movies to our dreams and aspirations. I found myself opening up to him, telling him things I hadn’t shared with anyone else other than Fiona, about how I was planning on becoming a film major so I could work as a backstage lights technician.

He was easy to talk to, and he listened with genuine interest. He didn’t belittle my interests, nor did he question them. It was… nice. And unexpected.

We were enjoying our dessert—a rich and delicious slice of chocolate cake, shared between the two of us—when Matt suddenly looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “Can I ask you something, Rose?”

I looked at him, my fork poised in mid-air. “Sure.”

He leaned forward, his voice low. “Why do you really wear the mask?”