The night was damp, the air thick with leftover rain and the smell of wet grass. I stood behind Blake’s house in his hoodie, my heart thudding as he—me—walked toward me through the shadows. Seeing my own body moving, breathing, frowning, was still the strangest thing I’d ever witnessed. It was like watching a mirror that refused to match my reflection.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You wanted to talk?” His tone was defensive, a little cold.

“Yeah,” I said, arms ...