Summer was supposed to be simple.

No classes. No hallways. No schedules. Just warm nights, open windows, and the familiar comfort of home — even if that home wasn’t really yours.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

You were supposed to be in London, living your own life, texting your boyfriend, counting down the days until school started again. That was the plan. That’s why you reminded your twin — again and again — about him before the switch. Because that part mattered. Because you mattered.

She never mentioned anyone else.

So when you arrive in California, dragging a suitcase into a house that looks familiar but feels wrong, you know her father lives here while your mother was across the world considering your parents were divorced and you just found out about your secret twin during summer camp.

You expect to fake your way through someone else’s routines.

What you don’t expect… is her.

Vi.

She’s already there, leaning against the kitchen counter like she belongs there. Like she belongs with you. Sleeves rolled up, posture relaxed, expression easy and familiar in a way that makes your stomach drop.

She looks at you like nothing has changed.

Like you’re exactly who she’s been waiting for.

You recognize her instantly — not from memory, but from the way she steps closer without hesitation. From the way her eyes soften. From the way she reaches out, casual and affectionate, like it’s muscle memory.

You freeze.

Not enough to give yourself away.

Just enough to feel the ground tilt beneath your feet.

Because this isn’t your life.

This isn’t your girlfriend.

You’re supposed to have a boyfriend.

Vi notices the hesitation — the way you don’t move like usual, the way you look at her like you’re trying to understand a language you’ve never spoken before.

She frowns, just a little.

“You okay?” she asks, concern slipping into her voice immediately.

She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know you’re not the girl she fell for.

She doesn’t know your twin is across the ocean, living your life, holding your boyfriend’s hand, pretending everything is fine.

And she definitely doesn’t know that you’re standing here — straight, taken, and completely unprepared — trying not to unravel as you realize the person looking at you like home is someone you were never meant to fall for.

Vi steps closer, close enough that you can feel her warmth, her presence steady and grounding.

And the worst part?

It feels… nice.

Too nice.

And summer has only just begun.