NORA'S POV
My phone buzzes at 6 AM with twenty-seven messages from Maya.
MAYA: OMG OMG OMG YOU KISSED ASH CRANE!!!
MAYA: Everyone's talking about it!!!
MAYA: There's a VIDEO! It has 10k views already!
MAYA: Nora answer me or I'm coming over!!!
I press the phone to my chest, grinning like an idiot. Last night wasn't a dream. I actually kissed Ash Crane under the mistletoe, and he kissed me back like I was oxygen and he'd been drowning.
My lips still tingle from it.
I've watched Ash sketch in the library for two years, too scared to say hello. He's always seemed so mysterious and sad, like a prince from a fairy tale who forgot how to smile. But last night, when our lips met, he kissed me like I mattered.
Like I was seen.
I jump out of bed and spin around my tiny bedroom. Grandma Elena calls from the kitchen, "What's got you so happy, mija?"
"Nothing!" I lie, but I can't stop smiling.
I shower and change into my coffee shop uniform—a green apron over jeans and my favorite sweater. It's old and the cuffs are frayed, but it was Mom's. Wearing it makes me feel brave.
Today I need brave. Because maybe Ash will come into the coffee shop. Maybe he'll smile at me. Maybe he'll ask me on a real date.
My stomach flips with butterflies as I walk to campus. Snow crunches under my boots. Christmas lights twinkle on every building. Everything feels magical, like the universe finally decided I deserve something good.
The coffee shop is already busy when I arrive. My manager, Carl, raises an eyebrow at my smile. "You're cheerful today."
"It's Christmas season," I say, tying my apron.
"Uh-huh." He doesn't believe me, but I don't care.
I make lattes and ring up orders, checking the door every thirty seconds. What if Ash walks in? What do I say? Thanks for the amazing kiss? I've been watching you for two years? Let's get married?
Okay, maybe not that last one.
Maya bursts through the door at 8 AM, still in her pajamas under her coat. "TELL ME EVERYTHING!"
I laugh and pull her to the corner. "Not here! I'm working!"
"You kissed Ash Crane! THE Ash Crane! The mysterious hot artist who never talks to anyone!" She bounces on her toes. "What was it like? Was there tongue? Did he say anything romantic?"
My cheeks burn. "It was... perfect. He looked at me like I was important, Maya. Like I wasn't just the scholarship girl nobody notices."
"Because you ARE important!" Maya hugs me tight. "I'm so happy for you! When are you seeing him again?"
"I don't know. Maybe today? He might come in—"
The bell over the door chimes.
My heart stops.
But it's not Ash walking through the door.
It's Evan Crane, surrounded by his hockey team—five huge guys in letter jackets, laughing too loud and taking up too much space. They swagger to the counter like they own the world.
My stomach drops.
Evan is Ash's identical twin, but that's where the similarities end. Where Ash is quiet and thoughtful, Evan is loud and cruel. He's made my life miserable since freshman year—"accidentally" spilling coffee on my laptop, mocking my thrift store clothes, tripping me in the hallway while his friends laughed.
He's a bully in designer jeans.
I duck behind the espresso machine, hoping he won't notice me.
"Nora will take your order," Carl calls out.
Traitor.
I force myself to the register, keeping my eyes down. "What can I get you?"
Evan leans against the counter, that famous smirk on his face. Up close, he looks exactly like Ash—same black hair, same ice-blue eyes, same sharp jawline. But everything about him feels wrong. Cold.
"Well, well," he says loudly. "If it isn't the mistletoe girl."
His friends snicker.
My face burns. "What do you want to order?"
"I want to know if you always kiss random strangers at parties." His voice carries across the whole coffee shop. People are staring now, pulling out phones. "Because that's kind of desperate, don't you think?"
Maya steps forward. "Back off, Evan."
He ignores her, eyes locked on me. "Tell me, Winters. Did you think I was Ash last night? Did you seriously mistake us?"
The world tilts sideways.
No.
No, no, no.
"What?" I whisper.
His smirk widens. "Oh, this is precious. You really can't tell us apart, can you?" He leans closer, and I smell his expensive cologne. "That wasn't Ash under the mistletoe last night, sweetheart. That was me."
The coffee shop goes completely silent.
"You're lying," I manage, but my voice shakes.
"Am I?" He pulls out his phone and shows me a photo. It's us under the mistletoe—me on my tiptoes, him kissing me. The angle shows his face clearly.
It's Evan. Not Ash.
I kissed Evan Crane. The boy who's tormented me for two years. The boy I hate.
"You should see your face right now." He's laughing now, and his friends join in. "Did you actually think my brother would like you? Ash dates models, not charity cases."
Something inside me cracks.
"I—" My throat closes up. I can't breathe.
"What, no comeback?" Evan tilts his head, fake concerned. "Usually you've got something smart to say. Where'd all that fire go, Winters?"
I want to disappear. Everyone's staring, phones recording, and I'm about to cry in front of the entire coffee shop.
Maya grabs my arm. "Nora, don't listen to him—"
"Poor scholarship girl," Evan continues, his voice sugar-sweet poison. "Can't even afford decent clothes, and she thinks she can kiss her way into the Crane family? That's adorable."
"Stop," I whisper.
"Make me."
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes. He glances at it and his smirk falters—just for a second, something flashes across his face that looks almost like fear.
But then the mask is back.
"Anyway, this has been fun." He tosses a twenty on the counter. "Keep the change, Winters. Consider it charity. You clearly need it."
His hockey team howls with laughter as they leave.
The moment the door closes, I run to the bathroom and lock myself in a stall. Hot tears pour down my face. I'm shaking so hard I have to sit on the toilet lid.
I kissed Evan Crane. I kissed the boy who hates me. I kissed my enemy.
And for one perfect second, he kissed me back like he meant it.
Why would he do that? Why would he kiss me, then humiliate me?
My phone buzzes. Unknown number.
Unknown: That kiss meant more than he's saying. Watch his eyes, not his words. He's lying to everyone, including himself.
Another message immediately:
Unknown: P.S. Check your locker. You have mail.
My hands shake as I stare at the screen.
Who is this? How do they know what just happened? How do they know about the kiss?
And what's waiting in my locker?
I look up at the bathroom ceiling, trying to catch my breath, trying to make sense of everything.
That's when I notice someone carved words into the stall door:
"BEWARE THE TWIN WHO SMILES."
The messages.
The warning.
Evan's face when his phone buzzed—that flash of fear.
Someone's watching us.
And I just became part of a game I don't understand.