I had been the last to fall asleep at night, but in the morning I woke up early anyway.

It had to be the unfamiliar environment, I guessed. The sun was slanting in through the large window in a way it didn't at home, and there was something about the air—the smell, maybe—that put me on edge until I opened my eyes.

Felicia and Louie were still fast asleep. Yawning, I sat up, rubbing my eyes and looking around. To my other side, Chelsea had already disappeared; where to, I could only guess. Maybe just to the bathroom.

For a moment I considered reading, then I remembered I'd forgotten to bring my book. I could search through Felicia's shelves, sure—I doubted she would mind—but that felt like a rude thing to do without asking first, so I stuck to playing around on my phone and waiting for the others to wake up.

It kept me interested for all of ten minutes. There was nothing interesting going on on social media; Sunday was asleep, and wouldn't be awake until way past lunchtime; Dan was awake but busy with volleyball practice; and Brandon and I still weren't talking to each other. I would try listening to music or watching videos on YouTube, but as I went through my bag for my headphones, I realized I had forgotten them at home.

Bored at last, I peeled myself out of the sheets and slipped out of the room as quietly as I could. I had no idea where I was headed just yet; to the bathroom, maybe, if I found one on the way, but mostly I was just hoping I wouldn't get lost in this small town of a house.

My footsteps led me down the stairs, through a long corridor flooded with morning light, past elegant furniture and exotic potted plants I didn't know the names of, until a sound drew my attention. It sounded like…a splash?

Was someone at the pool? At this time?

Intrigued, I opened one of the glass doors and slipped out into the garden, the dew-wet grass cool and soft against my bare feet. Sure enough, there was someone swimming in the pool. Up close it was even bigger than it had looked from the window of Felicia's room, and someone was doing laps in it, slipping from one end to the other so fast that they were little more than a blur in the water, quick and dark and sleek as a shadow.

Then the figure paused to draw breath, and my eyes met with Chelsea's.

She froze.

"Um…hi," I offered, trying to smile. "I didn't know you were here."

Chelsea simply continued to stare at me, wide-eyed and motionless like a deer in the headlights. Her shoulders were rising and falling with every breath, but otherwise she was perfectly still; her usually straight hair was dripping wet and curling every which way, framing the sharp angles of her face in a way that almost made her look like an entirely different person.

"Sorry," I said at length, backing away. "I didn't mean to intrude or anything. I'm already leaving, see…Your swimming was amazing, though—"

"Don't tell anyone."

I paused in my steps. Launching herself out of the pool, Chelsea jumped to her feet, dark eyes darting nervously from side to side like a criminal expecting to be caught at any second. "I'll be out of here in a minute," she said, her voice tight and tense. "You didn't see me. Got it? You never saw me."

I frowned. She seemed way too frightened for something like this, and it didn't make any sense. "Uh, sure," I said. "But…why are you so nervous? I don't think Felicia would mind you using her pool."

Chelsea's dark eyes flitted back to the swimming pool, her expression unreadable. "I'm not a swimmer," she said.

Okay, that didn't explain anything. "You can still want an early-morning swim, right?" I answered. "And you're really good at it."

A pained look crossed her face. "Thanks," she said. "It's…a habit, I guess. Swimming."

There was something she was hiding, I thought, but I had no idea what it was and didn't want to pry. "I still don't think Felicia would mind you swimming," she said. "She's not that kind of person."

Chelsea looked away, a dark look crossing her face even as she cracked a bitter smile. "Then you don't know her as well as you think."

I tried to think of a reason why Felicia would have a problem with Chelsea swimming and came up all health and safety concerns. "Are you…not supposed to be swimming right now, or something?"

Chelsea thought for a moment, then she shrugged and nodded. "I guess you could say that," she said vaguely, grabbing a fistful of hair to squeeze the water out of it. "Just…don't tell Felicia. Whatever you do, don't tell Felicia."

I didn't like any part of this constellation, but I smiled and put a finger to my mouth. "My lips are sealed."

Which didn't mean I was planning to drop the matter, of course.

~ ~ ~

The breakfast table was laden with more foods than I'd ever imagined eating for breakfast. Chelsea tucked in, taking some of everything; hungry after her early-morning exercise, I guessed. Neither Louie nor Felicia looked surprised by her appetite, so maybe this was what she always did when she stayed over at Felicia's. There were no other traces left of her trip to the pool; her hair was dry again and carefully straightened, although she had missed a strand at the back of her head that still curled in a merry spiral.

The curly hair had suited her, I thought. It was kind of a shame that she kept straightening it; sure, she looked older and more mature like this, but she already looked so stern. The curls gave her something lighter and softer, the playful edge she would otherwise miss.

"By the way, Chelly," Louie spoke up between two bites of toast, "you missed a strand when you straightened your hair."

Chelsea stiffened in her chair. "Did I?" she asked, feeling the back of her head and wincing. "Dammit. I try so hard to keep it straight, but it just keeps curling."

Her eyes lay heavily on Felicia as she spoke, but Felicia barely looked up from her food. "Don't get why you hate it so much. I like it both ways," she said through a mouthful of fruit salad. "Straight or curly."

Chelsea looked down at her hands, setting her jaw like she was somehow blaming them for their failure to deliver perfection. I couldn't understand what she was thinking. It wasn't like Felicia had insulted her or anything—she hadn't even criticized her, as far as I could tell—so what was the problem?

Half-heartedly eating, I observed them both closer. Chelsea's hairstyle, I noticed, was basically a shoulder-length version of Felicia's. Their makeup style, too, was suspiciously similar; and I was pretty sure I had seen that same shirt on Felicia before, just in a different color. Was that what was going on? Was Chelsea trying to emulate Felicia somehow? Trying to be like her, and mad at herself for failing?

That was stupid, I thought. Chelsea wasn't Felicia; why on earth was she trying to be? They were different people, beautiful and smart and nice in different ways. Why was she trying to be someone she wasn't?

To fit in? But why would that be necessary?

You don't know her as well as you think.

What had that been about?

For the rest of the morning I continued to observe them, but I couldn't find any answers. Felicia was the same as always, and so was Chelsea. And by the time we were all preparing to leave, I still didn't know any more.

Felicia drove us back, dropping us off at our homes, one by one. Chelsea was in the passenger seat again. Everything felt normal; and this time I joined in on the others' conversation whenever I could instead of sulking about Brandon like I had yesterday. His absence still hurt, but when I was with the girls, it didn't hurt nearly as much as usual.

"You're in a good mood," my dad remarked as I waltzed into the house, and I was surprised to find I was. I hadn't heard from Brandon all weekend, I didn't know when I'd hear from him again, and here I was—happy. Able to forget all about him and have a good time.

"I've had a good weekend," I replied with a smile. I wasn't wearing the beautiful flowy top anymore, but Felicia had let me borrow some of her makeup before I left, just to see how it felt to walk around in it for other people to see; and that, I found, had much the same effect. I still felt beautiful, graceful, like the fairy tale princess I'd always wanted to be.

"Good," my dad replied and meant it. "You know, when you first started hanging out with those girls I was a bit worried, but it looks like I was wrong about them." He smiled. "Look at you, you're glowing!"

"Thanks," I said with a smile and made my way up to my room. Unpacking my stuff, I curled up on the bed and went back to the book I'd forgotten at home while staying at Felicia's.

Until something knocked against my window.

I kept on reading and ignored it, then it knocked again. A third time.

Puzzled, I got up and stepped up to the window.

Only to be greeted by a familiar figure waving back at me.

"Brandon?"