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"Do you have a crush on Julian?"

The coffee she'd been drinking sprayed across the table as she choked in surprise. "What?" she sputtered, eyes wide with shock.

"My brother," I clarified unnecessarily. "I was just... wondering."

"You were wondering if I have a crush on your brother," she repeated slowly, as if trying to make sense of my question.

I nodded, watching her face closely. I wasn't even sure why I'd asked. The question had just popped into my head, a sudden curiosity about who Brooke might be interested in. I'd never seen her with anyone at school, never heard rumors about her dating life. And the way she'd interacted with Julian yesterday... I just wanted to know.

"Did he say something to make you think that?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, after yesterday on the mountain..." I trailed off vaguely, letting her assume what she wanted. I knew I was being dishonest, but admitting I'd made it up entirely seemed too embarrassing.

She stared at me for a long moment, then burst out laughing—a full, genuine laugh that turned heads at nearby tables. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," she said once she could speak again. "Your brother is the last person on earth I'd be interested in. No offense."

"None taken," I said, feeling strangely relieved. "Why is it so funny though?"

"Because he's—" She gestured vaguely. "He's Julian. He's arrogant and shallow and completely self-absorbed. Plus, he's your twin. That would be weird."

"Weird?" I echoed, not sure why that particular reason stood out.

"Well, yeah," she said, as if it were obvious. "You're..." She trailed off, something shifting in her expression. "You know what, never mind."

"No, what were you going to say?" I pressed, suddenly very interested in her answer.

She looked away, focusing intently on wiping up the coffee she'd spilled. "Nothing important."

"See? This is exactly what I was talking about before. You shut down the second anything gets remotely personal."

"And you push when people clearly don't want to be pushed," she shot back. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't want to share every thought that crosses my mind? That maybe some things are better left unsaid?"

"What could you possibly have been about to say that's so terrible?" I demanded, frustrated by her evasiveness.

"I was going to say that you're different from him," she said, her voice tight. "That despite everything, despite the act you put on at school and the friends you keep, there's something real about you. Something genuine that he doesn't have. And it would be weird to be interested in someone who's essentially aworse version of someone else." Her eyes widened slightly, as if she'd surprised herself with her honesty.

I sat back, stunned. Of all the things I'd expected her to say, that wasn't it. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," she muttered, avoiding my gaze. "Can we talk about something else now?"

But I couldn't let it go. Something about what she'd said had hit a nerve. "What do you mean, 'the act I put on'?"

She sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Come on, Madeline. You know exactly what I mean. The perfect popular girl routine. The way you pretend to care about the same shallow things your friends do. The way you change depending on who you're with." She looked at me directly now, her eyes challenging. "The real question is, do you even know who you are when no one's watching?"

The words hit me like a physical blow. Because the truth was, I didn't know. I had spent so long being what everyone expected me to be—Victoria's best friend, Julian's twin sister, Sam's girlfriend, the queen of our social circle—that I had no idea who I was beneath all those roles. The realization was terrifying.

"That's not fair," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "You don't know me."

"Maybe not," she conceded. "But I know what it looks like when someone's pretending. And you're pretending so hard sometimes I wonder if you remember what's real."

I stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over my mug. "I don't have to listen to this."

She didn't try to stop me as I grabbed my coat and gloves. "Madeline..."

"Save it," I snapped, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but here, with anyone but her. "Thanks for the psychology session, but I didn't ask for your opinion on my life."

I stormed out of the café, leaving Brooke and my half-finished hot chocolate behind. My chest felt tight, my eyes burning with tears I refused to let fall. I grabbed my board and headed for the lift, needing the mountain's solitude to clear my head.

The worst part wasn't that she'd said those things. The worst part was that some small voice inside me whispered that she might be right. And I had no idea what to do with that thought.