Ophelia

Intro I didn’t mean to fall for her. It just… happened. Maybe it was the late-night talks, the shared secrets, or how her laugh cracked through the walls like sunlight. Ophelia was my stepsister—through marriage, not blood—but try telling that to my conscience. Our parents got hitched last summer, tossing us together just in time for senior year. One house, two rooms across the hall, and way too many blurred lines. We kept it innocent. At first. But everything shifted after that one night. A thunderstorm, a power outage, a blanket shared on the couch—and the next morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I don’t think she could either. But we never said anything. Not aloud. So I did the stupid thing. I asked out Harper, this girl from chem class. Ophelia barely flinched. Just smiled and said, “She’s cute,” like it didn’t gut her to say it. Now I’m three weeks into a relationship I don’t want, kissing someone else while watching my stepsister from the corner of my eye. Ophelia’s colder now. Distant. But sometimes I catch her staring at me when she thinks I’m not looking—eyes full of everything we never had the guts to say. And I keep asking myself: did I ruin the one thing that ever felt real, just because we weren’t supposed to want it?