Beneath the Wolf Moon

The faint morning light spilled through my curtains, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the weight sitting heavy on my chest. Today was my birthday—our birthday—and maybe, just maybe, it would finally feel like mine.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the cracks in my ceiling, daring myself to believe that. Maybe they’d remember I was here. Maybe, this year, someone would look at me instead of him.

The smell of bacon and syrup wafted up to my room, pulling me out of bed. I padded barefoot across the cool floor, smoothing down my hair as I went.

But the moment I reached the bottom step, reality greeted me.

Ethan was already sitting at the breakfast table, his golden smile lighting up the whole room. Mom and Dad flanked him, practically beaming. They’d do anything to make their precious birthday boy happy. 

The table was full of his favorites—pancakes stacked high, perfectly crisp bacon, and a fruit platter shaped like a football. And at the center of it all, a cake, already frosted and ready, with green icing grass and a little gold medal made of sugar. Of course they made him a cake that looked like a football because Ethan is on the school’s football team. No one mentions that he got in the team mainly because his friend Jaxon is the captain. In this school, Jaxon can do whatever he wants. 

I’m not high enough in the food chain to be able to know Jaxon well. Most times I saw him when he showed up in the school corridor with a lopsided smile, dishevelled black hair, and a I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. 

Yet the world apparently gives a fuck about him. He has everything. Even though he seems like the type of brat who takes everything for granted, and does not realize how much privilege he has. 

I, as I’m proud to announce, am the invisible one in school. People vaguely remember me by “Yup, the nerd”. But at least I have a quiet life, the one that my brother despised. Not many know we are siblings, and he intends to keep it that way.

I hovered at the doorway, my fingers curling against the wood. Then Dad finally looked up, briefly. “Oh. Morning, Avery.”

“Happy birthday,” Mom added, her tone absent as she cut another slice of melon for Ethan.

I forced a smile that no one saw and took my seat across from my brother.

That was when Dad handed him the little black box. “Open it, son.”

Ethan flipped it open with ease, and the glint of silver caught in the morning sun. A key.

“Brand-new,” Dad said proudly, clapping Ethan’s back. “She’s parked right outside.”

Ethan grinned, holding the super expensive car key high like another trophy.

And then, finally, Mom slid a thin box toward me. “This is for you.”

It was light. Too light.

I peeled back the paper carefully, though my hands already trembled.

A puzzle.

A damn puzzle.

It’s the 8th puzzle I've gotten in a row. They are practically piling in my room. Sure I liked them when I was 10, but I’m not 10 anymore. They would’ve known that if they paid any attention to me or the piles of puzzle boxes in my room  And then the birthday card. Bright pink, too cheerful, it started singing the moment I touched it. Loud. Off-key. Relentless screaming of last-minute shopping at Walmart.

My cheeks burned as I pushed my chair back, making a screeching sound.

“For god’s sake, Avery, do you have to make a scene again? On your brother’s birthday?” Mom sighed. 

“Our birthday, in case you didn’t remember,” I speak as coldly as I can.

Mom’s face blushed for a second, but she refused to back down.”Ethan would never talk back to us like that.”

“GROW UP, the world’s not full of Ethans!”.I try not to cry in front of them as I leave the house and close the door with a loud bang.. Heck, today’s already too much.  I told myself it didn’t matter. Tonight would be better.

Alex would make it better.

Alex has been my boyfriend for 2 years. I got to know him because of Ethan, as they are both in the football team. He’s one of the few people who knows me and Ethan’s relationship, and the only one in this place that truly cares about me. What about my parents giving me shitty gifts that only remind me how I’m not enough? I got Alex, and the celebration with him is the only one that matters.

But he’s late. He’s already 3 hours late and not picking up his phone.

The restaurant was warm and dim, and I sat alone at a corner table, fingers knotted in my lap. Every time the door opened, my heart jumped.

But it was never him.

The waiters kept glancing at me, and their polite smiles began to thin. They are about to be closed and they are too tired to witness another heartbreaking customer.

My phone buzzed.

It was Lucas, my best friend. “Alex is at Ethan’s party. Already drunk.”

The words cut deeper than I expected.

I stood slowly, my chair scraping the floor. He didn’t stand me up on my birthday for some stupid party, did he?

Jaxon is a well-known womanizer. I don’t know why Alex always sucks up to him, they are clearly very different people..; Alex is sincere and modest. Jaxonhe has an ego bigger than his house—and he has a mansion.

If Alex was there—with them—then I was going to see it with my own eyes.

Jaxon’s house was alive with music and laughter. Lights strobed against the windows, and bass thudded so hard it rattled my ribs.

I pushed inside, the smell of beer and sweat hitting me all at once. Bodies pressed close together, voices shouting over the music.

I squeezed further through the crowd, and there I saw what the fuss was about. 

“Jaxon! Jaxon! Jaxon” The house roars.

I only saw the back of a man, well-muscled. He’s popping the cork of a huge champagne bottle, sitting on another boy’s shoulder, bathing everyone around with a bubbling drink. 

Everyone seemed lunatic, they were dancing and jostling. Several girls have already had their tops removed.

Even Dionysus himself would be proud of the scene.

Jaxon stood in the center of the room, dark hair falling just right, ocean-blue eyes scanning lazily over the crowd.

And suddenly he moved. As if suddenly alert, he quickly turned his back.

His gaze landed on me. An overwhelming wave passed through me. It leaves too quickly, as if I'm hallucinating. I don’t understand; he never batted an eye at me before. Sure, we exchanged a few "Ciao" and "Hi," but that’s it. I’m no one, not any of the cheerleaders he pays attention to.

Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded toward a hallway to his right.

I didn’t even think. I just followed the direction of his silent command.

The further I walked, the quieter it got—until all I could hear was my own heartbeat and a faint, muffled sound from behind a half-open door.

A moan.

High-pitched, breathless.

I stopped dead, my stomach turning.

With trembling fingers, I pushed the door open.

There he was.

Alex.

On the bed.

Riding one of the cheerleaders like she was a bicycle, his hands gripping her hips, her head thrown back as she screamed his name over and over.

I stood there, frozen, as he pounded into her like I didn’t even exist.

Until the sound that escaped my throat betrayed me—a strangled gasp.

Alex turned. His eyes went wide.

I couldn’t breathe.