Zoe's POV
Seth sped down the street, fingers tight on the steering wheel. His jaw was tense, and despite the calm music humming from the speakers, I couldn't relax. My eyes stayed glued to the window, watching the world blur by.
Wasn't I supposed to feel safe with him? After all, he'd been sweet earlier this morning. I still remembered how warm I felt when he told his mom, "Don't worry, Mum, she's safe with me," then winked at me with that easy smile. For a second, my doubts had faded. But here I was again—on edge.
We'd just dropped Madison off at school and were headed to Lakeside Arts School—the elite high school that produced the youngest top model in the Annual London Fashion Fest: Claire Anderson.
Chloe used to go on and on about her. Claire was her icon. Ever since she saw her on TV gliding down the runway like she owned the heavens in a dazzling yellow dress, Chloe was hooked. She devoured every article about Claire and even more about Rozadelle Marvels (RM), the legendary agency Claire was signed to. Chloe knew everything—how Claire was discovered by Rob Makavelli, the sharpest agent in the fashion world. Chloe wanted that for herself. And she worked for it.
At Vermont High, my sister didn't just dominate our fashion class—she was the fashion class. Every art contest? Chloe's face was the poster. She was effortless. Cool. Iconic.
And then… there was me.
I was the invisible twin—the "other one." The one teachers forgot was part of the equation. People were always more interested in Chloe. I heard it all the time, the whispers, the comparisons.
A chill crawled over me as memories of Chloe flickered behind my eyes. God, I missed her.
I never cried when she died. I couldn't. It didn't feel real. It shouldn't have been real. I was the only one who made it out. My parents, gone. Chloe, gone. I had screamed at the doctor that day, begged the universe to make it make sense. But it didn't. It still doesn't.
If I cried… it would mean it really happened. So I held it all in. I waited, stupidly hoping she'd come back. That we'd go back to our plan of saving the house. That we'd finish what we started.
But Chloe never came back. I held her lifeless body that day, trembling, Garrett clutching me like a lifeline, his tears soaking my shoulder. He's been with me ever since—my anchor in the storm.
He's also the only one who knows my secret: I became Chloe.
We were still at home when the bank called. Said our late dad owed a fortune. Everything was taken—everything but the house. We thought it was safe. We were wrong.
Men in black suits came to the door one morning. Cold. Rude. Dangerous. "You must be Billy's girls," one growled. "Your father owes us. We're keeping the house. Pay what you owe, then you can talk about ownership."
We didn't say a word. We were frozen. Terrified.
Chloe had believed we'd figure it out. But did we?
The sudden stop of the car jolted me out of my thoughts. Seth clicked his seatbelt off and leaned toward me. My body stiffened. What's he doing? My mind screamed. If he tries anything, I swear I'll bite his ear off.
Instead, he reached across me and calmly adjusted my seatbelt.
"It wasn't properly latched. That noise was driving me crazy," he said with a breath of relief. "See? Gone."
I blinked, a small smile slipping out. I hadn't even noticed the sound—I was too lost in my head.
He smiled again. Always smiling.
Silence settled between us like a thick fog. I avoided his gaze, staring at my lap like it held gold.
Then his voice broke through. "Mom said you're into fashion?"
I flinched. Then he hit me with the big one. "Are you really an orphan? Got any siblings?"
The air tightened around me.
My mouth opened slowly. "I have no one," I whispered.
His brows pinched together. I saw the sadness in his green eyes, real and soft.
I studied him properly for the first time. Freckles kissed the bridge of his nose, and his messy blonde hair fell in lazy waves over his forehead. His skin glowed like he lived in the sun. His whole vibe—soft, warm, unexpectedly comforting.
He turned back to the road. I looked outside, letting the wind kiss my face. I almost smiled. Just almost.
Then, like a tidal wave, a memory crashed into me.
Chloe and I, in the back of our parents' car. The sun on our faces. Our hair dancing in the wind. Mom was giggling—Dad must've cracked one of his silly jokes. Chloe looked at me, her fiery red curls bouncing as she smirked mischievously. God, I could still feel that moment.
Tears threatened, but I swallowed them down.
Seth's voice pulled me back. "No uncles? Aunts?"
I snapped. "None." The word came out like a slap. "Can we not talk about this?"
He paused. Rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry… I didn't mean to pry. No more questions. Promise."
*******
We pulled up to school around 8:45. The place was alive—students scattered everywhere, laughing, chatting, moving in clusters. I swung the car door open and stepped out, pausing for a moment to take it all in. So many faces. So many people. My chest tightened—I needed a dose of self-affirmation.
I turned back toward the car window and caught my reflection. Quietly, I whispered the words I needed to hear.
"I am brave. I am strong. I can do this.
They're just regular students."
Apparently, I wasn't as quiet as I thought.
"You say something?" Seth cut in, snapping me back to reality.
I played dumb. "What?"
"Never mind," he said, already walking ahead. I followed close behind.
The second we crossed into the hallway, it hit me like a wave—I was completely swallowed by the crowd. The bell rang, its chimes bouncing off the walls like a warning shot, and just like that, students began peeling off in different directions.
Panic started to creep in. I quickened my pace, but I had no clue where I was going. Which class was mine again?
Mrs. Ross had helped with my application, but in a twist of confusion, she'd mistaken me for Chloe and signed me up for Fashion as my art major.
I was surrounded by people but felt completely alone. Backpack clutched tightly, arms stiff at my sides, it felt like everyone was staring. Of course, they weren't. That was just my anxiety talking. I missed Garrett. If he were here, I wouldn't feel this... invisible and exposed all at once.
I wasn't a crowd person. Never had been. Chloe could charm a room without trying. Me? I was barely passing for her.
I just needed to ask someone—anyone—for help.
My heart thumped hard against my ribs. Why was something so simple this terrifying?
I reached out to tap a shoulder when suddenly, a hand grabbed mine from behind.
"Hey… this way."
I turned. "Seth? I thought you left."
"Nah. Just stopped to say hey to a friend. Come on."
He held my hand and led me through the chaos, finally stopping in front of a classroom.
"Here it is. Your first class," he said, gesturing to the door like it was a portal to another world.
I froze. Confidence? Gone. It took everything in me just to lift my foot.
Seth must've seen the panic in my eyes. He bent slightly to meet my gaze and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"Hey. It's just a classroom—and a bunch of silly students. You're probably even cooler than them."
That was definitely not true. But somehow, it helped. I smiled, nerves still dancing behind my eyes, and said, "Thanks, Seth. I think I'm ready now."
As I reached for the doorknob, a thought hit me.
"Wait—you should head to class."
"This is my class," he replied.
I blinked. "Hold up... what?"
It clicked. My brain finally caught up.
"Seth? Fashion?"
He just smiled.
And in that moment, I realized—there's so much more to Seth than I thought.