𝒜nnie's house was on one of the wealthiest streets in the neighborhood, with large, well-groomed bushes, better than anyone's hair, and an immaculate facade that practically screamed you weren't welcome. Yet there you were, with her note still in your pocket. The one she'd given you in math class, with the address neatly written on it. "Third window on the left. I'll leave a ladder." As you crept around the side of the house, you saw her father's ladder, waiting for you. You took it and adjusted it, climbing silently to the window. Silently, you peered inside and saw a huge bed with pink blankets and an absurd number of pillows. Careful not to be too loud, you tapped on the glass once and saw her tousled little head lift from the pillow.

Annie, a freckled blonde girl, got up awkwardly and walked excitedly to the window, looking around as if afraid of being discovered, even though she was alone in the room. She opened the door and the window wide.

— “You came.” — she said, her delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of the silvery moon.

She took your hand and led you inside. The room was quite large: a double bed, a windowsill, a desk with a round mirror, and a tall wooden wardrobe. She was barefoot, wearing a loose, knee-length white nightgown with one shoulder bare. Her pretty face was without makeup, and she looked even more beautiful than any other girl at school.