LOGINThe name "Ethan" didn’t even faze me when Mom first mentioned it. I mean, everyone knows an Ethan, right? It’s one of those names that’s everywhere. And yeah, there was an Ethan at my school who was basically the most popular guy there, the kind of guy who could have anyone he wanted, who everyone either admired, feared, or secretly crushed on. But what were the odds? I just didn’t make the connection.
Until now. Because there he was, standing right in my doorway. The Ethan. The one from my school. The Ethan who was in my grade, who girls swooned over, who teachers let slide by on charm alone, and who was always surrounded by a group of friends. The Ethan who had never even glanced my way before. I felt my stomach drop. It was like the ground shifted beneath me, like I had just stepped into a nightmare where nothing made sense. This couldn’t be real. Of all the people in the world—of all the Ethans—it had to be him? He stood there, looking at me, his eyes widening just a fraction before they narrowed, like he was piecing together who I was, too. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. And as we locked eyes, I felt frozen, like my feet were glued to the floor. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t even breathe. Seconds passed, maybe only a handful, but they stretched out, each one heavier than the last. And then, just as fast as he had appeared, he turned and walked away, not saying a single word. No smirk, no greeting, nothing. He just…left. I stood there, still staring at the doorway he had disappeared through, my mind racing in a million directions. So much for a fresh start. I had gone from "just Camila," the quiet, unnoticed girl at school, to "the girl who lives with Ethan." If anyone at school found out about this, my life would be over. Done. Ruined. It didn’t take much for high school drama to spiral out of control, and something like this? It would spread like wildfire. I could already hear the whispers in my head: “Did you hear? Camila lives with Ethan now. She’s his stepsister.” My heart pounded. I could picture the gossip and rumors twisting into all kinds of wild stories. And knowing the way people are at school, they would turn this whole thing into something it wasn’t. They would assume we were close, maybe even too close. High schoolers never needed the truth to make a mess out of someone’s life. I sank onto the edge of my bed, pressing my palms against my face. This was not happening. I had been so nervous about this move, about meeting Greg and even Ethan, but this? This was beyond anything I could’ve prepared for. And the worst part? There was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I was stuck. After a while, I got up, unpacking a few things to distract myself. I tried to shake it off, to tell myself that maybe he would just ignore me, and maybe, if I was really lucky, he would pretend he didn’t know me at school. We would just coexist in silence, pass each other like strangers. I mean, he hadn’t even said a word to me—just stared, probably as shocked as I was. Maybe he wasn’t any happier about this than I was. Eventually, I wandered downstairs to grab a snack and see if Mom needed help with anything. I expected to bump into him again, to get some kind of second interaction, but the house was silent. Mom and Greg were somewhere, maybe on the back patio, laughing softly. The sound drifted through the house, and for a second, I almost felt calm again. Almost. I tiptoed around the house, peeking into rooms, kind of half-expecting Ethan to pop up and make things awkward again. But he was nowhere to be found, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. Maybe he was hiding out in his room, or maybe he had gone out to see his friends. He was the kind of guy who always had somewhere to be, people to hang out with, things to do. And here I was, trying to figure out how I was going to survive even a single day of this. I didn’t know what to do with myself, honestly. The whole day felt surreal. I was technically home, but I didn’t feel comfortable. I couldn’t just curl up in bed and read or scroll through my phone like usual. I felt on edge, like he might walk through the door at any second, and the quiet wouldn’t let me forget it. By the time the sun started setting, I was exhausted, even though I did practically nothing all day. I slipped into my room, closed the door, and flopped onto the bed, hoping maybe sleep would come quickly and give me a break from all the stress. But as soon as I closed my eyes, my brain went into overdrive, replaying the image of Ethan standing in my doorway over and over again, until it was all I could see. Finally, I gave up on sleeping and decided to text my best friend, Lexie. She was the only one who would get just how massive this was, how much my world had flipped upside down. I typed out a message: Lex, you’re not going to believe who I’m living with now. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed. What? Who? Tell me! I took a deep breath and typed back: Ethan. Yes, that Ethan. Playboy Ethan. Popular-guy Ethan. It took her a full minute to respond, and I could practically feel her shock through the phone. YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME. Are you serious?! Like, our school’s Ethan?? Yep. She sent a series of exclamation points, then: How are you even handling this? Like, how is this real? I have no clue. It’s like the universe just decided to mess with me, I replied, staring at my screen. I didn’t talk to him, and he didn’t talk to me. But if people at school find out… Lexie’s response came instantly: You have to keep this quiet. You know how people are. They’ll turn this into the gossip of the year. I groaned, sinking further into my bed. I know. But it’s like a ticking time bomb. I just know someone will find out eventually. She sent a comforting message back, but it didn’t help much. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, all I could think about was how everything had changed in just one day. How I had gone from quiet, unnoticed Camila to the girl living under the same roof as the most popular guy in school. And the worst part? I had no idea what this was going to mean for me, for school, for everything. The peace and quiet I had counted on was gone, replaced with this never-ending anxiety that I couldn’t shake. But, deep down, a tiny part of me knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again. Not by a long shot.A single tear slipped out my eye, trailing hot down my cheek and dripping onto the concrete floor. I bit my trembling lip hard, so hard I tasted blood, trying to keep any sound from escaping.But somehow, they heard me anyway.The rough-voiced one stopped mid-sentence. “Wait. Did you hear that?”My entire body locked up. I forced my breathing to stay slow and shallow, but it was too late. The second guy stood up and I could hear his boots scraping closer across the floor.“She’s awake,” he said flatly. A hand shot out, grabbed my chin roughly and yanked my head up, a small, broken escaping my throat. My eyes flew open on instinct, meeting the face of the man in front of me. He was older, maybe in his forties, with a scarred lip. The hoodie guy from the parking lot stood a few feet behind him, arms crossed, watching.“Well, well,” the scarred one muttered, tilting my face side to side like he was inspecting merchandise. “Looks like sleeping beauty decided to join us. You hear all th
“I said stop fucking following me! I see you every goddamn night. What the hell do you want?”He didn’t answer and the silence stretched between us until I finally glanced around and realized how completely empty the street was. This… doesn’t feel right.Suddenly feeling a bit scared and creeped out, I took a step backward. “Listen, I’ve had enough of this. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but if you don’t back the fuck off right now, I’m calling the cops and—”Before I could finish my sentence, a hand clamped over my mouth from behind and a sweet chemical smell immediately hit me.My brain barely had time to register what was happening before another arm wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. I tried to scream, but the sound was muffled against the cloth. So I kicked backward, my boots slamming into someone’s shin, and heard a low grunt of pain. But it wasn't enough to free me.I thrashed hard, twisting and jerking.My keys slipped from my fingers and clat
The days after that hallway slap stretched out in a strange way I couldn’t quite name. It also became difficult to hate Miles as much as I wanted to, and that pissed me off more than anything. Though, I appreciated the fact that he kept to his word because after that night he never pushed, never hovered, never tried to insert himself into my space or my grief like some well-meaning parasite. He stayed out of my way completely, and the longer he did it, the harder it became to keep feeding the fire I’d been stoking since the second Dad brought his luggage through the door. Exams ended too. And as I walked out of that building, the first place I went was the police station, because the second the last bell rang, Camila’s face was the only thing left in my head. What happened after that… Well, I think you can guess. I yelled, demanded updates and threatened to go to the news if they kept treating her file like it was already boxed up in some dusty basement. They gave me the s
“You can hate me as much as you want,” he went on quietly, the words vibrating through his chest where mine was pressed against it, “but please, don’t cause Father any trouble.”I scoffed while still trying to yank my wrist free even though his grip held steady. “Father? You’re already calling him that?”“As much as you hate it,” he answered, not letting go, not stepping back, his face still inches from mine, “I’m adopted. He’s my father. What else am I supposed to call him?”The words landed like slap, harder than the one I’d given him, because hearing it out loud made it even more fucking real.“You don’t get to call him that,” I hissed. “You don’t get to walk in here with your bags and tell me not to cause trouble when you’re the one who showed up and complicated everything.”His grip on my wrist stayed firm.“I don’t need you to like me,” he said. “I really don’t. But can you at least be reasonable? He is already going through a lot. He’s trying, Tessa. He’s been trying every sing
“Leave me alone!” I yelled back, the words cracking in the middle as another sob ripped out of me. I curled up on my bed, knees to my chest, staring at the ceiling where the fairy lights blurred through the tears. Dad’s voice came again right outside the door. “I know it’s a lot. I should’ve talked to you first. But Miles… he doesn’t have anywhere else, Tess. And after everything with your mom, with Jake leaving, with Camila… I thought maybe this could be good for us. For all of us.”“Don’t fucking dare make it seem like you did it for me!” I screamed back, the words ripping out of my throat. “You did it for you! You didn’t think of me for a fucking second before you signed that adoption letter. Nobody gives a fuck about how I truly feel so drop the bullcrap!”I rolled onto my side, hugging my knees tighter, the exhaustion from exams crashing into the fresh wave of anger and hurt until my whole body felt heavy. Even in that position I could still hear him shift on the other side of
The words hung there in the cold air. I blinked once, twice, my brain short-circuiting because no. No fucking way. “You what?” The question exploded out of me, echoing off the porch and making Miles flinch. I stepped forward, boots kicking up slush. “You adopted him? We’re barely holding this house together, Dad! Mom and Jake are gone, the divorce is still a fresh wound, I’m drowning in exams and still screaming at the cops about Camila every chance I get, and you decide now is the perfect time to bring home some random kid from your old group home? What the hell were you thinking?”Miles shifted again, looking like he wanted to bolt back to the truck, but Dad just stood there, hands raised like he could calm me down with that pathetic gesture. “Tess, listen. It wasn’t random. Miles… he’s been through hell. His situation at the home… it wasn’t working anymore. The director called me yesterday, said there was a spot opening up for permanent placement and he thought I’d be a good fit
I dragged myself back to my room like my legs were made of lead. Talking to my mother hadn’t been as explosive as I thought it might be, but it had drained me all the same. The mansion’s corridors stretched longer than usual, every corner echoing with my own thoughts. By the time I pushed my door
I waited. At first, it was fine. The kind of waiting that feels temporary — like he’d be back in a minute, maybe two. I sat on the bed with my knees pulled to my chest, picking at the edge of the blanket, staring at the door like it might suddenly swing open and Ethan would walk in, shrugging like
I found her by accident. Well, not exactly an accident—more like I’d been circling the mansion for hours, pretending to admire the gardens or the carved stonework when really, I was trying to gather the courage to do the one thing I’d been avoiding: talk to her. And then there she was, sitting on
By the time the door finally creaked open after what felt like for ever, my nerves were already frayed thin. I jumped to my feet so fast that my sore legs nearly gave out. “Ethan,” I breathed, relief spilling out of me before I could help it. He stepped in quietly, his hair slightly messy. He shu







