Matt & Doe | Complete

Chapter 12 pt.2

Matt's POV

That evening, I ironed my black jeans as if I were meeting God himself.

I complemented the pants with a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt and a black, straight tie. It didn't look as good as when Roseline tied it the first time, but it worked. Especially since there was nothing to compare it to. I went to the bathroom, and used my eye drops, so I could hide their weariness.

After leaving the room secure, taking nothing but my large folder with me, I crossed the road to the orphanage and prepared my car to go. I looked down. I was really about to leave here in sneakers.

“At least they're clean,” Roseline's voice startled me from the other side of the car.

She was leaning against the wall, focused on my every move.

“And Matthew, do something with your hair.”

I caught a glimpse in the car window of the ruffled nest which sat on top my head.

“So now you have something to say to me?” I half-yelled and she motioned for me to follow her.

I wasn't sure how to feel about it at first, but when I did I already knew what would follow. Roseline sat me on a chair outside the quarters and ran into Hannah's room, returning with a jar tightly clasped in one hand.

“It's a hair jam -”

“JAM?” I nearly fell over on my side, everyone turning to face me.

When I composed myself again, she pulled her spray bottle from behind her back and suddenly worked her magic on my mane. Roseline used the product throughout my strands, sticking the hair as close to my scalp as it could go. She handed me her phone to see the end product. All my hair was slicked back.

“Now this...” I grimaced, “...This really brings out my forehead.”

“You actually look presentable,” she slightly lifted my chin, “It brings out your eyes.”

“...Man, my forehead is huge.”

Roseline lent me a scolding look and I returned it. Then, she tapped the watch on my wrist.

“Time to go.”

Carla had left nearly two hours before, given that she and her husband were the hosts.

“Thank you, Roseline,” I said in a sing-song manner, and rushed to the car.

I watched her shake her head, then disappear to the back. I looked a bit better... Definitely neater. It made up for the jeans... and sneakers.

I drove along slowly, taking mental note of the landmarks I passed. When it was almost half six, I pulled up to two, large gates each with security booths beside them. The sun was almost melted away, and the street lights flickered on. I instinctively wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. I called Carla, unsure of what to do next.

“Give them your full name,” she spoke hurriedly, “There's a guest list.”

I brought down the window and leaned over the door to speak into the small mic.

“Matthew,” my voice broke and I cleared it, “Adler.”

One of the golden gates rolled open and I sped in.

On either side of my car were enormous houses, enough to hold probably fifty people. They spread for what seemed like miles. The streets were nicely lit and pristine. The lifestyle seemed exclusive. There was no asking neighbours for flour or sugar in these parts.

I continued for what seemed like hours before arriving at the last building on the line. It was smack in the centre, dead-end style with a spacious front. It looked more like a clubhouse or centre, with a lit pool to the far end of it.