Chapter 7

Maya’s POV

I sat in the driveway of my old house, clutching the steering wheel of Chloe’s car. My neck still stung from Jaxon’s touch, but my heart felt like it had been put through a shredder.

It hadn't been a dream. It had been a disaster.

The moment I had pushed Jaxon away in his bedroom, I told him I wasn't "ready." He hadn't been the gentleman I’d imagined. He became cold. “You’re acting like a stranger, Chloe. You hate me now don't you? You know what, maybe we just need some space,” he’d said.

“Space,”which was the polite way of saying it was over.

I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror. If I told Chloe the truth, that I had ruined her relationship in less than twenty-four hours, she would destroy me. She would tell the whole school about everything. She'll make Tristan hate me. She will make sure Maya Nakamura never has a friend again.

I forced a smile, tucked my hair behind my ear, and stepped out of the car. Chloe was waiting on the porch, looking at me with this telling me what happened face?

"Well?" she asked.

"It was great," I lied, my voice steady. "We talked. We... made up. I did whatever he wanted. Everything is back to normal, Chloe. Better than normal."

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders dropping. "Good. Because I did some research."

She took me into the house. My parents seemed shocked, they hadn't seen Chloe in the house for 2 years. 

Oh… how I missed mom's creamy pasta and garlic bread and dad's curry rice. Hi Mr. and Mrs. Nakamura I said as I walked over to the kitchen were there were.

Chloe grabbed my arms winking as she pulled me. I followed her upstairs to her room.

She pulled out her laptop, I did my research," she said. The screen was filled with tabs: Occult Forums, Astral Displacement, Ancient Soul-Swapping Myths. "Look at this," she pointed to a thread. "It says that soul-swapping usually happens during a moment of high emotional trauma or extreme desire. It’s called 'Vessel Displacement.' But there’s always a catalyst. A ritual, a mirror, or an object.”

I nodded and pretended to listen, but all I could hear was the sound of Jaxon’s door clicking shut behind me.

Chloe looked at me

"We'll fix this, Maya," Chloe said, actually sounding hopeful for once. "We just have to keep up the act until we find a way out.

I forced another nod. I was keeping up the act, alright. I was just acting for her, too.

"Wait, there's one more thing," Chloe said, shutting the laptop lid halfway. She looked genuinely stressed. "Your parents, Maya... they keep speaking Japanese to me. I just stand there like a statue. I can’t understand a word they’re saying, and your mom looked so hurt this morning when I didn't answer her."

I couldn't help it, I just had to laugh. "Chloe, it’s not that hard. They’re probably just asking if you slept well or if you want tea."

"It’s not funny!" Chloe said. "I’ve been using a transcribing app on my phone just to keep up. I feel like a spy in my own, in your house. How am I supposed to 'keep up the act' if I can't even say 'pass the salt' in the right language?"

"Don't worry," I said, trying to soothe her. "We'll probably switch back soon. Just keep the phone handy."

I hesitated, looking down at the phone in my hand. I had been scrolling through Chloe's messages earlier, looking for Jaxon’s contact, when I saw something I didn't expect. "By the way... Chloe, don't kill me, but I checked your contacts."

Chloe stiffened. "And?"

"You still have my number saved as 'BFF' with that silly tongue-out emoji," I said softly. "I thought you hated me after the ninth grade. I thought I was just the girl with the retainers you made fun of to stay popular."

Chloe looked away. "People change, Maya. And sometimes they stay the same but have to pretend they changed so they don't get eaten alive. Don't read too much into it."

The room went quiet for a beat, the history of our lost friendship lingered around. I realized then that despite the bullying and the distance, a part of the old Chloe, the one who used to sleep over at my house every Friday, was still in there.

"You know what?" She said, standing up. "I know you miss your mom’s cooking. Why don't you come down? Let’s all have dinner together. Your parents would love to have 'Chloe' over, and you can actually eat a meal that doesn't come out of a microwave."

I hesitated, then nodded. "Okay, fine. I can even help you translate so they don't get suspicious."

Dinner was a beautiful. We sat around the small wooden table, the steam from the pasta and the scent of garlic bread filling the room. It was the first time in years the four of us had sat together.

As the night went on, my parents started to look confused. I was laughing at my dad’s old jokes before he even finished the punchline. I knew exactly where the extra napkins were kept, and I kept accidentally referencing family trips we’d taken years ago. Meanwhile, the "Maya" across the table was being polite but distant, struggling to follow the fast-paced Japanese my mother was chirping.

"It is strange," my mother said in English, tilting her head at me. "Chloe, you remember the flavor of the food better than my own daughter tonight."

My heart paused I glanced at Chloe, who was frantically trying to look busy with her food.

"I just have a really good memory for your cooking, Mrs. Nakamura," I lied smoothly, giving her the bright, winning smile I’d practiced in the mirror. "It’s unforgettable."

My parents laughed it off, adding it up to my "growth" and "confidence," but as I looked at Chloe, I saw the fear in her eyes. 

We were playing a dangerous game.

As I left, she whispered to me at the door, "Be careful, Maya.