deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 23 - Truth or Dare

The next day, on Saturday, I get dressed to leave for the party in my room. I don't want to look too fancy, but also not too casual. I put on a high-waisted, short, light pink skirt, a light blue short-sleeved crop-top blouse, and sling my black purse over my shoulder. I stand in my mirror, brushing through my hair, deciding to leave it down today. I do my makeup and go downstairs, looking for my mother. I find her in her office, doing catch-up on work.

She looks up at me, looking aggravated, as she usually does. "Sage, what is possibly so important right now that you have to interrupt me?"

"I just wanted to tell you that Elizabeth invited me over to her house to sleep over tonight. She's having some others over, too."

"No boys coming over, right?"

"Yeah, none." The lie comes out of my mouth so naturally, almost as natural as breath comes in and out of my mouth, too.

"M'kay. She picking you up?"

"Nah, I'm taking the bus."

"'Kay. You going now?"

"Yeah."

"Be back tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah."

"M'kay. See you then, then. And have a good time. Bye."

I nod, say goodbye, and head outside, walking to the bus stop. There are goosebumps appearing on my bare arms and legs in the cold weather, and I'm glad this bus stop has a cover and a bench, because I'd hate to have to be standing out in the wet windy snow in this outfit.

I'm happy when the bus comes, and I get to the stop closest to Neymar's house, in the rich residential area. I walk to the house that he said his address was, and I can't believe how rich he is. His house is huge. Despite my worries about this party, I also can't help being excited about being able to party in this castle.

I walk up the steps and ring the doorbell. By now it's around 12:10 P.M.

Foden opens the door. He's wearing a blue button down, tight black jeans, and black Nikes. He smiles. "Prefect, you're the last one here. Neymar has lunch ready and everything. Come on in. You look freezing."

I smile and walk in as he holds the door open for me. He shuts it behind me. "Hey Foden," I smile, still shivering.

"Sheesh," he chuckles. "It's not summertime, Prefect. It's midwinter. You're certainly not wearing an outfit fit for midwinter, are you?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, I'm not," I say back to him, kind of embarrassed. I look around, taking in Neymar's huge, modern designed, impressed house. I practically faint right into Foden's arms at how impressive it is.

Too bad Griezmann isn't here right now, because then I might really faint into his arms.

Foden walks over to a huge white modern coat rack, and takes a white pullover off of it. It has his football number, 47, on the back of it, and his last name, both in light blue lettering. He hands it to me. "Here," he says casually, and I put it on.

As I put up the hood and snuggle into his hoodie, he brings me through a few halls to the dining room. Jeez, I didn't know castles were still this easy to get, but obviously Neymar has one, and it's probably bigger and more impressive to Versailles, for God's sake. He is rich.

The dining room is just as impressive, but there's something in the dining room that will always be more impressive to me than any architecture on the whole earth. And I'm sure you can guess who I'm talking about.

Antoine.

He's wearing a tight red t-shirt, black sweatpants, and red sneakers. He could literally being the most casual, normal outfit ever, and he still makes my heart stop. How does he do it? How?