Her pov
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I couldn't get her out of my head. After running into her earlier, I found myself back at home, mindlessly scrolling through my Instagram feed, but it kept bringing me back to her. That girl.
Her account was all over my suggestions. She had this curated aura, everything about her looked effortless—like she never tried too hard but still had all the attention. Her photos were sharp, clean. A lot of close-ups, a lot of stares that seemed like they could pierce through you. The kind of eyes that made you feel like you were being studied.
I clicked on her profile again. I couldn't help it.
There were only a few posts, each one oozing this detached coolness, the kind of vibe that made you want to know more but not in the usual way. It wasn't the over-the-top glamour of girls who posted selfies every day—it was minimalist, intentional. She wasn't trying to be someone else, and maybe that was the thing that made her stand out.
Her stories were even more intriguing. A video of her walking down some busy street, just existing, and yet it felt like the world was revolving around her. There was one where she was at a club, looking completely out of place, yet completely in control.
I could almost hear Alex's voice in my head. Don't get too close. She's not the type to make it easy.
I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes at how much I couldn't shake the feeling of him being right. It wasn't like I even wanted to get close. She was just… different. Maybe it was her mystery that had me hooked.
And then I remembered what Alex had said: "She doesn't give anyone the time of day."
I frowned as I skimmed through her feed again, swiping faster now. No wonder. She didn't need anyone. She was the one who made people look. The way she carried herself... it was like everyone else was just an accessory to her life.
I bit my lip, feeling a strange tension. She was hot. No doubt about it. But it was more than that. There was something about the way she handled herself—like she wasn't concerned with what anyone thought of her. And that, in some messed-up way, made her even more interesting.
I scrolled back to the photo of her standing on some rooftop, the city lights behind her, and for a second, I almost wished I could be as effortless as she was. But then I remembered: She wasn't someone you could just figure out. You didn't get to know her. She chose who saw her.
And for some reason, that thought stuck with me long after I put my phone down.
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I stared at my phone, feeling that same prickling curiosity gnawing at me. Who was this girl? Why did everyone seem to know her? And why did all these guys—guys I knew from my older sister's year—follow her on Instagram?
I decided to ask my sister directly. If anyone had the inside scoop, it would be her.
I quickly typed out the message:
"Hey, do you know the girl who's all over my IG suggestions? Tall, dark hair, super icy vibe. I keep seeing her name pop up, and she's got a bunch of your year following her. What's up with that?"
A few seconds passed before my sister replied, her response as quick as always.
"Oh, her. She's the little sister of Eliot. You know, the guy from my year who's always with Chris and the others? Anyway, I hate her. She's one of those girls who thinks she's above everyone, but here's the thing—she's always got guys staring at her. Like, staring—and not just the random ones. My boyfriend's been acting weird about her ever since he met her a couple of times. I swear, every time she walks by, he has that look in his eyes. And she knows it. It's like she's playing some game I can't stand."
I leaned back in my chair, processing what she said. Eliot's sister? That explained some things, but it still didn't sit right. Why was her name cropping up in all my feeds? And why did it seem like my sister couldn't stand her?
I scrolled back through the girl's profile, seeing everything differently now. There was something more to her, something behind that cold stare. Something that made my sister so defensive.
Maybe I was wrong to think she was just some mysterious girl... but damn, she was starting to get under my skin.
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I sat there, scrolling back through her photos, my mind racing. Eliot's sister. That was the connection. But even with that piece of the puzzle, something about her didn't sit right. She was so... untouchable. The kind of girl who didn't care about anyone's opinion, least of all the attention she was getting.
I couldn't shake my sister's words, though. "She's the type who thinks she's above everyone." And it wasn't just that. It was the part about her boyfriend—how he couldn't stop talking about her. My sister had mentioned it before, how her boyfriend would drop her name in casual conversation, like she was this unattainable prize.
"Every time she walks by, he has that look in his eyes," my sister had said. It was clear now—he was obsessed. And what really bugged me? The girl didn't seem to care. At all. She didn't look at him. Didn't respond to his attempts at getting attention. I could practically feel my sister's frustration, how it gnawed at her whenever her boyfriend mentioned her.
It made sense, though. Guys like him, who always craved the chase, always wanted what they couldn't have. And this girl? She was the one thing he could never get.
I could almost hear the resentment in my sister's voice when she talked about her. It wasn't just jealousy; it was something else—something deeper.
I couldn't blame her. After all, who wouldn't feel a little threatened when their boyfriend couldn't stop talking about someone else? Especially someone who wasn't interested in him at all. It was like this girl had a power over him without even trying.
I closed the app and leaned back, thinking. Maybe I should meet this girl. See what it was about her that had my sister so pissed off. See if she really was the cold, untouchable creature my sister described—or if she was just playing a game.
I could already tell this was going to be more complicated than I thought.
.