Three years with the man of my dreams, and just as we were starting to talk rings, my body became a prison I shared with my cousin. Now, all I can do is watch her, wearing my skin, as she embraces, kisses, and… well, does everything else with him. In the dead of night, my Adam, who should have been with my cousin—in my body—suddenly knocked and squeezed his way into the room, pulling me into a hug, ready to kiss me senseless. “Celeste…” He mumbled my cousin’s name, and a bucket of icy water was thrown over my heart. I shoved him away. Celeste Wells. That was my cousin’s name. 1 From a young age, I knew I wasn’t as likable as Celeste. My mother would often tap my forehead in frustration, sighing, “Daisy Wells, tell me, why can’t you be more savvy? Looks are one thing, but can’t you at least be clever? Pay attention to Celeste; she’s so sharp.” Celeste was beautiful, effortlessly outgoing, and she had a knack for charming every adult she met. At holiday gatherings, she always walked away with more coveted gifts and more social currency than I did. I, Daisy, was plain, timid, and aside from decent grades, I felt utterly forgettable. The bravest thing I’d ever done was pursue Adam Holloway. I chased him for an entire semester, writing dozens of clumsy notes, inventing elaborate “chance” encounters, bringing him water during his intramural basketball games, and studying beside him in the library. One night, as we were leaving the library, I was fumbling to hand him a Bluetooth earbud, when he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Daisy Wells,” he asked, his voice low, “are you even trying to chase me?” He looked down at me, his impossibly handsome face inching closer, his breath warm. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it might escape, and my face and ears flamed. “I… I’m a disaster of a pursuer.” Adam just smiled, then lowered his head and kissed me. “Then let me show you how it’s done.” When Adam and I started dating, everyone around us was stunned. One of my less-than-friendly roommates was cuttingly passive-aggressive: “Her? She’s so mousy and dresses like a librarian. I bet she had to pull some major strings to land Adam.” I once asked Adam why, out of everyone, he chose to be with me. We were crammed onto a commuter rail train, and he had me circled in his arms because of the crowd. He answered casually, resting his chin on my head, “Because you’re my girl.” Celeste later told me that a man only resorts to calling you ‘cute’ or ‘my girl’ when he can’t find any real, outward qualities to compliment. That summer, Celeste came to visit me in Newport, and Adam drove with me to the station to pick her up. He walked ahead, dragging her ridiculously large suitcase, while Celeste leaned in to whisper to me, “Oh my God, Sis, your boyfriend is my absolute dream guy.” My stomach dropped. Celeste had always been the one to take things from me—toys, attention, even friendships—and my family always insisted I be the bigger person. She was the gilded shadow I could never escape. If Celeste decided she wanted Adam, I knew I would lose. I had no fight in me against her. Over the next few days, I showed Celeste around, and though Adam offered to join us, I stiffly refused. I forced a brittle smile. “No, that’s okay. I’ll hang out with her. It’s a holiday weekend; the city’s going to be crowded. You know how you hate noisy places.” Adam looked at me, a long, searching look, before he suddenly pulled me close, pressing a hard kiss to my lips. In broad daylight, I glanced around, embarrassed, and quickly pulled away. He gave me a wounded, theatrical look. “Fine. I’ll just drown myself in the lab then. Let me know when my future Mrs. decides to grace me with her presence.” 2 Three years into our relationship, I finally brought Adam home for Christmas break. Celeste’s family lived nearby, and my dad, with the brilliant idea of “letting the youngsters bond,” booked us a group of suites at a thermal resort outside the city. When we arrived, we found out it wasn’t just the three of us. There was a fourth person—a stranger. The guy smiled, extending his hand. “Gale Abbott. I’m a neighbor of Celeste’s.” From the way Gale looked at Celeste, it was clear he was completely gone on her. Later that evening at dinner, he was overly attentive, warning Celeste, “Celeste, you’ve been having those allergies lately. Maybe skip the Spicy Shrimp Scampi?” Celeste accepted his concern with a shrug, but her eyes kept drifting toward Adam. Adam ignored them both, ordering the Scampi anyway. Then, he looked at Celeste (who was in my body) and added coolly, “Daisy loves shrimp. If you have an allergy, just don’t eat it yourself.” That night, I’d had a little too much wine. Lying next to Adam, I asked him again, blearily, “Adam, why do you actually like me?” He was just as tipsy, rolling over to kiss me, his answer dismissive and soft. “Because you’re my girl.” I hesitated, swallowing the real question I wanted to ask. What if you had met Celeste first? But just as he was starting to get serious, I pushed him away, pulling the duvet over my head. “I’m sleepy.” His reply was quiet, a little cold. “All right.” I never could have predicted that I’d wake up as Celeste. The door creaked open early the next morning, and someone slipped in, shutting the door quietly behind them. She smiled, looking down at me. “Sis.” Staring at that familiar, yet now utterly alien face—my face—I used every ounce of willpower I had to stop the horrified scream bubbling in my throat. “Celeste?!” She was wearing my body, and she walked calmly to the edge of the bed and sat down. She cut me off before I could speak. “I wouldn’t try to tell Adam, if I were you. It’s too unbelievable. He’ll think you’ve had a breakdown.” The air rushed out of me, leaving me utterly defeated. She was right. Adam was rational, science-minded. I’d sound insane. Celeste looked at me, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across my lips. “Besides, haven’t you always been jealous of me?” “Consider this a trade. I’ll lend you my body for a few days, and you’ll lend me your Adam for a while.” 3 At breakfast, I watched Celeste, in my own body, perch next to Adam, batting her lashes as she cooed into his ear. “Honey, I need those peeled. I’m too tired.” “Babe, I want a bite of your bagel.” “Darling, I heard they have private couples’ mineral baths here. Should we go try one later?” The scene was a physical assault. My eyes burned. I hunched over my plate, blindly shoveling food into my mouth. Suddenly, a hand reached over, silently placing a fresh napkin in front of me. I looked up. It was Gale. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his expression clearly unhappy. I belatedly realized he liked Celeste. He must think I (Celeste, in this body) was jealous of my own sister—or rather, my own body—and was sulking. That certainly wouldn't please him. I sucked in a shaky breath, forcing a small smile, and took the napkin from his hand. “Thank you.” But then Adam’s chopsticks reached out, placing a piece of Truffle Parmesan Fries on my plate. I snapped my head up, staring at him. Adam cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “You mentioned last night that you can’t eat seafood. I saw you really liked these fries, so I ordered a second batch.” My heart plummeted. I was in Celeste’s body. Celeste’s recent allergy to seafood was something Gale mentioned briefly last night. And the fact that she liked those specific fries was also a new, small detail. He was attentive. He remembered. He was caring—about the wrong person. I pushed back my chair. “I… I’m not feeling great. I’m going back to the suite to rest.” Gale was blocking my path. When I didn’t move, I had to prompt him. “Excuse me? Could you step aside, please?” “I’ll walk you back,” Gale said, standing up and following me. On impulse, I glanced back. I met Adam’s eyes. The look he gave me was purely, openly worried. And it was directed at me—at Celeste’s body. Walking back, I stayed silent, terrified of betraying myself. Gale broke the silence first. “Are you sick? Should I get you something from the pharmacy?” “No… thank you. Just a headache, maybe from not sleeping well. I’m sure a nap will fix it.” I stopped at the door, saying goodbye. He really was a good-looking guy—taller than Celeste, with ink-dark eyes that, for some reason, felt strangely familiar. “Your sister… she seems a little different today.” My heart skipped a beat. I tried to sound natural. “Does she? No, I think she’s just being normal with her boyfriend. That’s what girls in relationships do, right?” I was inwardly panicked. How could he be so perceptive? Gale watched me, a flicker of something knowing in his deep-set eyes. “Not every girl. At least—I don’t care for that kind of attention-seeking.” 4 Back in the suite, I realized I’d left my phone back at the table in my haste. I didn’t know Celeste’s passcode, but thankfully, she used face-ID. Opening her texts, I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of unread messages. A stream of guys—asking her out, flirting, suggesting late-night drives. It was an existence I’d never known. My own phone usually only had messages from Adam and my best friend, Jordan. This overwhelming, exhausting flood of attention was the reality of being a gorgeous, popular girl. I only replied to a few messages from her parents, then tossed the phone aside and fell into a heavy sleep. Somewhere between waking and dreaming, I saw Adam. He was wearing his vintage Michigan State jersey, looking clean and radiant, walking toward me on the court. He grabbed my wrist, pinning me against a concrete wall, leaning in for a kiss. I turned my head, avoiding his mouth, and asked the same question. “Adam, why do you like me?” He smiled tenderly. “Because you’re so beautiful, so fun, and you have such an outgoing personality.” The joy flared for only a second before I looked into the nearby mirror. Staring back was Celeste’s bright, dazzling face. I went instantly cold. It was Celeste’s face! I shot up in bed, gasping for air. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, realizing belatedly it was just a nightmare. But the dream was too vivid. It had ripped open the deepest part of my insecurity, exposing it to the light. A knock sounded on the door. I assumed it was Celeste, but when I opened it, I found Gale. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice still hoarse. The next second, a warm hand landed on my sweat-damp forehead. “You’re running a slight temperature. Definitely coming down with something.” Gale held up a paper pharmacy bag. “I got you some cold medicine and a cup of soup. You didn’t eat this morning; have the soup first, then the meds.” I looked up at his clear, sky-blue eyes, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Gale was truly kind to Celeste—attentive to an almost obsessive degree. Yet, she didn’t want him. She wanted the one man who was already taken. Was this the cliché of wanting only what you couldn't have? I drank the soup and took the pill. As the headache began to recede, I felt sticky with sweat. I asked Gale, “I feel gross. I’m going to go soak in the thermal pool for a while. Want to join me?” Gale readily agreed. However, as soon as we reached the pool area, I spotted two familiar figures. Celeste, in my body, was aggressively pinning Adam against a stone wall, whispering something up at him. Then, she grabbed his collar, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. I froze, staring. The dull, persistent ache in my chest surged, turning into a wave of pain that made me sway. A hand shot out and steadied my shaking body. I turned to see Gale’s eyes fixed on mine. He asked quietly, “You’re in love with him?” I nodded, the movement painful. “But he’s your sister’s boyfriend.” The hand holding me was warm, but his words were like an icy wind, carrying a strange, knowing edge. “Celeste, you’re beautiful, but that’s not a golden ticket. Adam chose Daisy for a reason. That means he genuinely loves her. You can’t just barge in.” I shook my head weakly, biting down hard on my lip to stop the tears. “You don’t understand.” How could I tell him? This illogical, unscientific disaster had led us here. The person Adam was with was me, yet she wasn’t. And I, living in Celeste’s body, could clearly feel the increasingly urgent, almost hungry desire in Adam’s eyes when he looked at me. “Stop crying.” Gale’s voice was suddenly right by my ear, a gentle sigh in his tone. The next second, I was pulled into a warm, solid embrace.
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