𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Chapter Eighteen

As Olivia Clark, I was in absolute shock.

I knew that Alessia had a crush on Dylan, something I had no idea about when we were in school. But now I learn that she had acted on her crush. She had kissed him.

I sat back, watching as the kiss continued. Despite everyone's constant nagging at us about our apparent crushes, it seems that they were all wrong.

And then, Dylan pulled back. It wasn't to embarrass her; he didn't do it in a rude way. He pulled away slowly, eyes shut as he took deep breaths.

"Alessia," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered back, swallowing up anything he would've said.

"I'm going to call Olivia, see if she wants to come round and revise for her biology test on Wednesday, and I think that you..." he couldn't say it out loud. And Alessia and I knew why. Dylan was too nice. He had helped Alessia last night and today and he didn't want to be rude about anything.

"I'll go," Alessia said, swallowing the lump in her throat, picking up her bag and stuffing her clothes from the night before inside. She took one last look at Dylan as she sniffed. Then, she slipped on her shoes and left.

She ran down the stairs and out of the door, finding her bus pass in her pocket as she checked the time.

I was too shocked to resume my role in Alessia's body after that. I was still there, regretfully, but I let her make her way home on her own.

She felt regretful and a little embarrassed despite Dylan's efforts to remain respectful to her feelings. But, overall, she was happy. She had kissed the boy she liked and, although she then lost him to the girl he liked, she was still victorious.

School—it was a ridiculous few years of my life.

When Alessia got home, her dad still wasn't there and she wasn't surprised. I thought perhaps that he had a job that required him to work afar most of the time—and party with prostitutes on Friday nights, of course.

She ran up to her room, where she shut her door, leaning against it. And then she grinned, before throwing her body into some sort of happy dance.

This was the first time she had felt joy and success in a very, very long time. Though, I hope she knew that her cure to her long-term depression and lack of friends was harder than she thought to procure.

Alessia passed the rest of her Saturday by sketching Dylan in her sketchbook—which I had never seen in her room before—and she used a picture on his Instagram to do so. When it got late, she ordered a Chinese, becoming even happier when she heard the doorbell ring. Well, at least we can both agree that food is emotionally enlightening.

As Alessia turned up the volume on her speakers, eating her noodles and smudging lines on Dylan's jaw, I felt betrayed. Alessia and I didn't really know each other, and so if I had known that Dylan kissed her when we were in school, I wouldn't have minded. In fact, I probably would've pushed him to take her on a few dates, maybe ask her to prom.

But tomorrow morning, I would've spent four days in her body. I just thought that maybe...

I don't know. We're not friends. She doesn't even know me. But I know her. I know every inch of her mind and body. I know that she has a mole on her upper hip, and no one else would've seen that. I know that there's a picture of her mum that she picks up every morning and kisses. No one else would've known that.