𝕷IKE 𝕿HE 𝕾TARS

❛𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋.❜

CHAPTER ONE.
PERHAPS, NOT ALL THAT IS UNSPOKEN IS LEFT UNSAID.

THE SUN SANK RATHER LAZILY BEHIND the lush hedges of Eurydice Rome's family backyard, casting the last soft glow of summer across the rows of fairy lights her father had help to hang between the trees. Tonight, on the last day of summer vacation, the night air was warm and alive, humming with the scent of roses and a distant bonfire from somewhere down the street, signs of early autumn touching the breeze. Quilts and cushions had been arranged under the open sky, creating a comfortable fort that was stuff of childhood dreams, right out of a Disney film. Christopher Rome had even nailed down some wooden poles so that chiffon could be draped on top forming a canopy, bless his heart.

Eurydice's father had, as usual, been a willing conspirator, hammering away with his old toolbox late in the late afternoon light, joking about "building castles out of bedsheets". She had laughed, but her heart had swelled as he helped her tie the sheer fabric to the poles, pulling it just so, until it created an airy canopy that billowed with the breeze. For just a moment, she felt like a little girl again – it was something out of the fairytales she used to wish had been told to her, instead of those Greek myths which always seemed to end in tragedy. The ones she was named after. But, it was an upbringing that was uniquely hers.

She stood in her chinchilla-shaped slippers (her father had thought it absolutely hilarious, given Eurydice's affections for her pet chinchilla, Cedar. He was correct), wearing a red and white heart pajama set, comfortable, but chic. Often how people described her presence, not doing too much, but still letting you know that she was that girl. She was adjusting a small pile of cushions now, making sure that it was perfect with not a single thing out of place, moving with a relaxed, effortless grace that belied her need for perfection. Every gesture poised, but unconcerned – she needed things to be just the way she wanted them, but she wasn't one to stress over sleepovers; things always fell naturally into place for her.

The sleepover that marked the end of summer was always a big deal in Rosewood however, a tradition that had been going on for many years, older than the Glenmore seniors themselves. It traced back to their grandparents, a ritual deeply woven into the roots of the small town, having a pulse and energy all its own. It was a celebration of the last hours of freedom before school reclaimed their days and schedules, after all! It was more than a simple sleepover, it was a rite of passage, passed down from those who had once ruled the same halls and knew the same streets, a time where things felt impossibly magical. 

Eurydice's grandmother had told her about these gatherings once, how, back them, they'd sat on quilts in the woods with lanterns casting long shadows, sharing secrets under a veil of whispered promises. Eurydice smiled as she ran her fingers along a patchwork of fabric squares in faded yellows, pale blues, and delicate florals. Traditions like these were blessings to carry on.

For their grade, there only ever really were two people who were in charge of hosting the annual sleepover – herself, or Cher Latif. It had been Cher's turn last year, and so now it was hers. Eurydice didn't feel a need to upstage her ex best friend, she didn't think she did. But it did make her sad thinking about how they used to plan these together, until she remembered why they grew apart in the first place, and then she just felt mad. Well, she'd simply have to deal with the fact that Cher had been invited – by her step-sister Penelope Heathcliff no less – though she didn't need to know that fact. It wouldn't have done anyway, to not invite Cher when Eurydice had attended last year (against the former's better wishes)... Oh, whatever! Sometimes you have to deal with people you don't get along with, that's life.