The sky turned on us right after third period. One minute it was the usual gray high-school afternoon, the next it was pouring like the clouds had been holding back for weeks. I stood under the overhang by the side doors, backpack slung over one shoulder, watching sheets of rain hammer the parking lot. My gym bag felt heavier than it should—today was supposed to be leg day, no excuses—but the idea of sprinting through that mess to the weight room suddenly seemed stupid. Most kids were waiting it out or calling rides. I pulled out my phone, already typing a quick text to Bella asking if she could swing by early from her afternoon class downtown.
Before I could hit send, a voice cut through the rain noise behind me.
"Ethan? You look like you're plotting a prison break."
I turned, and there was Chloe, standing just inside the doors with her blonde ponytail slightly damp from the walk over. Up close like this, without three rows of desks between us, she hit different. Those blue eyes were brighter than I remembered, framed by lashes that didn't need mascara, and her uniform blouse had a couple of raindrops on the shoulder that made the white fabric cling just enough to hint at the soft curves underneath. The plaid skirt swayed against her thighs as she shifted her weight, and she gave me that same easy smile from yesterday—only this time it was directed straight at me.
I swallowed once, then matched it with the calm I'd been practicing. "Something like that. Was heading to the gym, but Mother Nature had other plans. You waiting for a ride too?"
She nodded, stepping a little closer so we weren't shouting over the downpour. "My mom's stuck in traffic. Figured I'd wait it out instead of turning into a drowned rat." She glanced at my gym bag. "You actually go after school? Like, regularly? I saw you in there yesterday lifting like you owed the weights money."
A small laugh escaped me before I could stop it. She'd noticed. Not just noticed—remembered. "Yeah, trying to build a habit. New year, new me kind of thing. You play any sports or…?"
"Volleyball in the fall, but I mostly just run the track when it's not pouring." She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle she hadn't quite figured out yet. "You seem different this week. In a good way. More… present."
The words landed warm in my chest. We talked for another ten minutes—easy stuff about classes, how the cafeteria pizza was a crime against humanity, her weekend plans to binge some show I'd never heard of. Nothing huge. No numbers exchanged, no big moment. But when her mom's car finally pulled up and she waved goodbye with a quick "See you tomorrow, Ethan," I stood there replaying the whole thing like it was a highlight reel. First real conversation. First time a girl like her had looked at me and actually seen the guy I was becoming.
The rain eased up just enough for me to jog to the gym without total ruin. Legs burned through squats and lunges, but I pushed harder than yesterday, the echo of Chloe's voice in my head fueling every rep. By the time I finished, the sky had cleared to a drizzly mist and my muscles felt like they'd grown an inch overnight. I showered quick in the locker room, changed into dry clothes, and stepped outside to find a text waiting from Bella: Stuck at study group till 6. Sophia's running late from campus too—traffic's a mess. You good to wait or walk?
Routine broken. No sisters waiting at the curb like clockwork. Just me and an empty house for the first time since waking up in this life.
I walked home through the light drizzle, earbuds in, mind turning over the day. The neighborhood looked softer in the rain—streetlights just flickering on, puddles reflecting the colors of fall leaves. By the time I turned the key in the front door, the place was dark except for the little lamp in the entryway Mom always left on. Shoes off, bag dropped, and the silence hit me. No humming from the kitchen. No Sophia's laugh carrying from the living room. Just the low tick of the hallway clock and the faint scent of Bella's vanilla candle from last night still lingering.
I headed upstairs to drop my stuff in my room, then paused at the top step. The door to Bella's room was cracked open—something she never did unless she was rushing out. A soft light spilled out. Curiosity tugged me over before I could talk myself out of it.
She wasn't home yet, obviously, but the room felt alive anyway. Bed still unmade from the morning, clothes draped over the chair by her desk: that fitted sweater she'd worn yesterday, a pair of jeans that looked painted on from memory. Her laptop sat open on the nightstand, screen dark. I wasn't snooping—just standing there, taking in the space that belonged to one of the most gorgeous girls I'd ever lived with. The full-length mirror on her closet door caught my reflection, and for a second I looked… different. Shoulders a little straighter from the workout. Hair still damp and messy in a way that didn't look half-bad.
The front door clicked open downstairs.
I froze, heart giving a weird little stutter. Footsteps—light, familiar—then Sophia's voice calling up, "Ethan? You beat us home? Bella texted me she's still stuck."
"Yeah," I called back, stepping away from Bella's door fast. "Gym ran long. Rain delay."
She appeared at the bottom of the stairs a moment later, shaking rain from her auburn hair. Sophia looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine even after a long day on campus: cropped hoodie clinging from the damp, those endless legs in tight black leggings that disappeared into ankle boots, and the way her green eyes flicked up to meet mine carried that usual lazy amusement. But there was something extra tonight—the way her cheeks were flushed from the cold, a single strand of hair stuck to her neck, and the slight hitch in her breathing like she'd hurried the last block.
"House feels weird without Bella bossing us around, huh?" she said, climbing the stairs two at a time until she was right there on the landing with me. Close. The vanilla-and-rain scent of her mixed with something warmer, like the coffee she'd probably been drinking all afternoon. She was maybe six inches taller than me in those boots, and when she reached out to ruffle my hair the way she always did, her fingers lingered half a second longer than usual, brushing the back of my neck.
My pulse jumped. It was nothing—just sister stuff—but the empty house made the air feel thicker. I could see the faint outline of her bra under the damp hoodie, the curve of her waist where the fabric rode up, and for the tiniest moment my brain short-circuited on how insanely beautiful she was. Not in a creepy way. Just… noticing. The kind of noticing that made my stomach do a small, awkward flip.
She must have felt the beat of silence too, because she dropped her hand and laughed softly, stepping back. "You're all sweaty again. Shower before dinner? I'll order pizza since Mom and Dad are pulling another late one at the hospital. Bella should be home by the time it gets here."
"Pizza sounds perfect," I said, voice steadier than I felt. "I'll grab one quick."
We split off—me to my room, her to hers—and I closed my door, leaning against it for a second. Heart still doing that weird little extra thump. It was dumb. She was my sister. Bella too. This was just the new life settling in, the closeness that came with actually having a family worth coming home to. Still, the quiet house and that brief moment on the landing left a tiny, fluttery echo in my chest I couldn't quite shake.
Downstairs later, the three of us ended up crammed around the coffee table with boxes of pizza and sodas once Bella finally burst through the door apologizing for the delay. Conversation flowed the same as always—Bella recounting her brutal group project, Sophia mocking some guy in her psych class who couldn't stop staring at her during lecture—but every now and then my eyes would drift to the way the lamplight caught Sophia's legs or the loose curl of Bella's hair against her collarbone, and that small awkward beat from the stairs would flicker again.
Nothing changed. Not really.
But the routine had shifted just enough to make the evening feel a little different. A little charged.
And I liked it.