The thought came so naturally, so easily, that I didn’t even stop to consider it. Because that’s what I always did. I’d come home, find him, flop onto his bed, and pull things out of my shopping bag one by one while he pretended not to care but still paid attention anyway. Blake always had something to say—half teasing, half genuine. That’s so short, you’re gonna give Dad a heart attack. Or, That one makes your legs look even longer.

Before I could think too hard about it, my feet carried me toward his door, past family photos and the old mirror that had hung on the wall since before I was born.

Blake’s door was cracked open, just enough for me to hear the low murmur of voices. I figured he was just muttering to himself like he sometimes did when he was working through a math problem. I pushed it open without hesitation, already lifting the pink bikini top out of the bag, holding it against my chest.

“Hey,” I said brightly. “Tell me this isn’t cute⁠—”

I stopped mid-sentence.

Because there was a girl sitting on his bed.

Brunette. Pretty. Probably a year or two older than me.

She wasn’t touching him. She wasn’t even that close to him. But she was there. Her long, sleek hair cascaded over her shoulders—the kind you’d see in shampoo commercials. She sat with one leg casually crossed over the other, a tank top hanging effortlessly off her frame, and tiny gym shorts revealing toned legs, as if she had just walked out of a fitness ad.

Blake was standing near his dresser, mid-motion, as if he had just thrown something onto it. He had been laughing, and the sound still lingered in the air, wrapping around me like a noose.

My fingers went slack.

The pink bikini slipped from my fingers, falling to the floor. For a long, drawn-out moment, I stood there, staring, too stunned to move or speak. I stared at her like she wasn’t real.

Like maybe if I blinked enough times, she’d disappear.

She didn’t.

Blake’s eyes locked onto mine, and he froze, staring at me as if I had just shot him. Something inside me cracked so hard I swore the whole room could hear it.

I could barely breathe, let alone move. My brain refused to make sense of what my eyes were seeing. None of it made sense.

There was a girl sitting on his bed. A girl who wasn’t me.