It was a pleated red and black plaid skirt.
Cameron held it up, blinking in confusion. It definitely wasn’t something he owned, and he was almost positive it didn’t belong to his mom either. "Weird," he muttered, inspecting the skirt. It looked like something Anna or Christina might wear, but he wasn’t sure which one. He couldn't remember ever seeing either of them in it, but it seemed more like something Anna would own—cute, a little preppy, totally her style.
Still holding the skirt, Cam headed out of his room and knocked on Anna’s bedroom door. No answer.
"Anna? You in there?" he asked, nudging the door open. The room was empty.
He glanced around quickly, spotting her phone charging on her nightstand and her purse missing from the hook by the door. She must've gone out. That ruled out asking her directly for the time being.
Shrugging, Cam turned and walked down the hall to Christina’s room. He hesitated. Christina didn’t usually like people barging into her space, and she wasn’t exactly shy about yelling if someone touched her stuff. Still, if it wasn't Anna’s, maybe it was hers.
Knocking lightly, he called, "Hey, Christina?"
There was no answer, and after waiting a few seconds, he nudged the door open. Her room was even more obviously unoccupied—bed made, lights off, no sign of activity. She was probably out with her friends.
Cam looked down at the skirt again, puzzled. "Well, that solves nothing," he said aloud.
He returned to his room and dropped the skirt on his bed. He’d have to wait for one of them to get back before figuring out who it belonged to. With the mystery unresolved and no one home to clear it up, Cam flopped down on his bed and pulled out his phone. He considered texting Anna, but figured it wasn’t urgent.
His gaze drifted back to the skirt lying on his bed, its bold colors contrasting with his dark bedding. His curiosity wouldn’t leave him alone. He glanced around, making sure no one was nearby, then smirked at himself.
"Let’s see what all the fuss is about," he joked under his breath.
A moment later, he stood in front of his full-length mirror, the pleated skirt now around his waist. It was surprisingly comfortable, fitting a bit snugly but not too tight. He turned side to side, the fabric swishing lightly around his legs.
"Huh," Cam said to his reflection, tilting his head. "Not bad."
He wasn't sure how to feel about it—but part of him found it kind of amusing, even a little fun. He wasn't planning on letting anyone see him like this, of course. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a little moment of harmless curiosity.
Then, just as he started to reach for his phone—maybe to take a quick photo just for laughs—he heard the front door open downstairs.
"Crap!" he hissed.
Panicking, Cameron scrambled to get the skirt off as footsteps started up the stairs...
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