My phone rings, and I see it's Beth calling. I automatically click to answer the call.
"Morning, Aria! Just checking in—and guess what? You were totally right!" Beth's voice is bubbling with excitement and seems energetic early in the morning. Good for her.
"Someone's happy. You know, I would like to have that kind of energy right now. How do you do that?" I yawned.
"Two cups of coffee, girl." She giggles. "Wait, I'll send you another photo from last night—you won't believe it."
Ding.
Half asleep, I open the photo, blinking a little as it loads.
"Aria," she says with a knowing tone, "this is proof you really do have an eye for beauty." she teases, clearly thrilled.
I take a closer look and nearly sit up straight in surprise. "Wait...Beth, is this...?"
"That's right," she says proudly. "That's our dear Coach Mark. Samantha got him really, really drunk. I don't know how she did it, but thanks to that his beard was razored clean. The rest of the girls took his glasses and cap, tied his hair, put foundation on, little bit of eyeliner, lipstick and~ Viola! I mean look, he's like a rock star hidden gem here." Beth laughs and said, "honestly, he looks amazing."
I paused, unsure of how to respond. Part of me couldn't deny that Coach Mark looked great—clean-shaven and all—but another part of me felt uneasy about it. The whole situation seemed like a huge violation of his privacy. I mean, he was drunk, his beard shaved without his permission, makeup applied, and pictures taken of him unaware. Everyone has their reasons for how they choose to look; maybe he had a good reason for keeping that beard. If I were in his shoes, I'd feel pretty uncomfortable about it.
But at the same time, I didn't want to crush Beth's enthusiasm. It sounded like everyone had enjoyed themselves, and they'd all been drinking for Daisy's birthday anyway. So, trying to keep things light, I cautiously replied,
"I hope he'll like his beardless face and that no one will get into trouble for this, and that everyone will be in good spirits for our volleyball practice later,"
Beth sounded a little deflated. " Hey, I thought you'll be delighted to see this photo as you were looking forward to his image change. Why does it sound like you're against it? Like you don't appreciate it."
I'm totally against coercion and the use of force to seize the rights of others, but I remember that Beth won't back down when this turns into a debate, and I still have no energy enough to counter her argument, so I said,
"I am not against any change that contributes to the betterment of oneself. I don't know, I guess, I have to see him personally to appreciate it." This is the safest answer I could think of, but what I really wanted to say to her is that it could have been nice if it was done with his approval.
Every action has consequences. If you think about this deeply, a simple joke and fun, though not meant to inflict any harm, could lead others to get hurt. Maybe I am just being too critical early in the morning. Is this why we say never do a joke with someone who just woke up?
Really though, I hope the team would not receive any kind of severe punishment. I contemplated about coach Mark's new appearance.
"Hello? Aria are you still there?" Beth snapped me back to the conversation.
"Yeah, sorry I was not listening. What were you saying?"
"Girl, two cups of coffee, okay? So, I was saying you could spend your time here at the studio. We could go together for the volleyball practice at school. What do you think?"
Oh right, Beth's family owned a dance studio.
"We could practice dancing."Beth added to convince me. Yeah just like old times. I find dancing to be fun.
"I'll check my schedule to see if I'm available today; I still need to inform my mother about volleyball practice and other things; I'll call you back." My focus was shifted to the package on the table.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Sure. Just call me back, okay?" I can imagine Beth shrugged her shoulders as she responded.
"Yeah I will, bye." Beth hung up first. Ah, I need to use the restroom. I casually tossed my phone onto the bed and made my way to the restroom. After finishing, I flushed and stepped out, heading straight to the closet for a change of clothes—just a simple white T-shirt and denim shorts, perfect for the warm weather.
I returned to the bathroom, slipped out of my clothes, and took off my wristwatch before hopping into the shower. The shampoo I used had a blend of argan oil and honey, and I followed it up with some cocoa butter soap. After rinsing, I grabbed a towel to dry off, including my hair.
I own a hairdryer, but I usually only use it when I feel like it. Today, I didn't.
Feeling refreshed, I flashed a smile at myself in the bathroom mirror. The mirror also reflects the door, which is kind of creepy but advantageous. I grabbed my worn-out clothes and my black wristwatch. I inspect the comfort room before going out to assess if it needs cleaning. Satisfied that it's still clean, I went out, put my laundry in the basket, wore my wristwatch, and sat on my bed.
"Aria, are you still asleep?" I heard my mom's voice calling from downstairs.
"No, mom, I'll be right there," I replied, glancing at my phone. It was 8:12 am, even though I had a wristwatch. I unlocked my phone and scrolled through my messages and emails, just in case I missed anything.
I quickly checked my messages, letting my eyes land on Aunt Marie's. It really is unusual. Five messages.
I don't remember the last time she reached out this much. We're not particularly close, and though I appreciate her asking about us, it still feels... awkward.
I skimmed through the messages again:
Message 1 (10:00 pm): Aria, how are you?
Message 2 (10:01 pm): (video)
Message 3 (10:02 pm): I sent a video and this is important.
Message 4 (10:03 pm): Open the parcel first before watching the video.
Message 5 (11:01 pm): Where is Kyle?
But really why would aunt Marie ask for Kyle? I wish she would contact him like any normal aunt would do. Bet Kyle would be shocked when that happens. I turned again towards the parcel.
I really don't feel like opening it.
I glance out the window, noting the grey sky. Was it like this when I woke up? I can't quite remember. Standing up, I begin walking toward my desk where the parcel rests, still unopened.
As I approach, a cold breeze brushes past me. It's definitely going to rain soon. I sigh, glancing at the sunflowers in the vase on my desk. Despite the grey sky outside, they still manage to look bright and cheerful.
Urgh... I really don't want to open this package.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten yet.
Fine, I'm hungry—let's get this over with. I grabbed the scissors from the drawer, snipped through the strings, and tore away the remaining wrapper. Now, all I could see was a plain cardboard box. I used the scissors to cut through the tape, revealing what was inside. A bunch of shredded paper spilled out, looking like a bird's nest. I dug through the mess and found two envelopes and two small boxes.
I dug through the mess and found two envelopes and two small boxes [https://img.wattpad.com/2a981ea2278bd70a3c3ea283d18dc801dfe05399/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f7a41746d51574a7a3357646862413d3d2d313439363037363731322e313830383134383630643434376236643230373735363737363131362e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
I opened the first envelope that came to hand. Inside was a 1/4-length white ticket, plain but with bold, large text across the top: *Billy's Boat*. The date was printed in red in the center, and there was a reminder below that read: *strictly no luggage*. I stared at it, confused. What was this for?
I moved on to the second envelope. Inside, the letter read:
**KYLE**
*Code*
*Meet*
**GUY16**
I paused. The name Kyle stood out, but that didn't explain the rest. Did Aunt Marie mistake my name for Kyle's? No, that didn't make sense. She had clearly addressed the letter to me and asked about Kyle in her message. But Aria and Kyle were nowhere near similar names, right? My name's obviously feminine. So, what was this all about? Was this intended for me or him? I shook my head. Whatever it was, I needed to keep going.
Next, I turned to the boxes. The smaller one seemed lighter, so I started with that one. Inside, I found a red bracelet, its design simple yet striking. It was made of sturdy nylon rope, knotted with a single medium-sized red glass bead at the center. It resembled a *fate* or *lovers* bracelet, though thicker than usual. The bracelet rested delicately on a small pillow inside the box, making it look almost like a piece of jewelry you'd see on display in a mall.
What am I supposed to do with this bracelet?
I set it aside, still unsure. Then I opened the second box, and to my surprise, inside was a Canon camera. My mind raced—what was the point of all this? Why was I getting these things? I scrolled through Aunt Marie's messages again, hoping to make sense of it all.
Ah, she did say to watch the video she sent in my phone after opening the package. Alright, I thought. Maybe this will explain everything.
(Video)
Clicked
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(Loading) [https://img.wattpad.com/e71f93c44d04e0b64b9aa26369d2ea4b0b7dd9f3/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f59614c34463239596546585942413d3d2d313439363037363731322e313830383134386130356266656330633937383534323036353233312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]