It was one in the afternoon when I had decided to accept my fate.

I figured that I was probably not dead and that the body I saw in the ocean was the Alana of this dimension. Somehow, in the mix of everything, I was transported into her world. While I was here, I would have to pretend to be the Alana of this dimension and try to figure out how she died. But of course, that meant I would have to figure it out all on my own.

It didn't seem that complicated. I may not be able to get back to my own world, but if I could figure out how the other Alana died, it would at least be some form of resolve.

But at the same time, if she did die here, there was a possibility that whatever killed her could now be after me.
________

There was a knock at my door and I nearly fell off my chair.

"Alana." It was the voice of Isaiah.

I took a deep breath. Calm down. "Yeah?" I answered, moving from my chair and opening the door. Isaiah was standing there, tall and scrawny—even though he swears he works out. My parents say we look a lot alike. We both have similar features, a straight nose, small lips, dark eyebrows. Our hair and eyes are both a dark, chocolaty brown—Isaiah's hair is more black though—and we look neither completely European like my mom nor completely Vietnamese like my dad. My brother told me that one of the kids in high school always joked that Isaiah was "the most Asian white-kid in the grade."

Isaiah was like that, though. People liked him. He was what our family calls "nerdy-cool", intelligent and geeky but at the same time sociable and fun to be around.

In my opinion, though, I don't even know how he manages to get girlfriends.

"We've been calling your name like ten times," Isaiah told me, looking down towards the staircase. "Your boyfriend is here." With that, he went back downstairs, probably to the basement to play FIFA. That's all he does in the summer, it seems like.

It took me a minute to realize that I had, in fact, heard correctly and that Isaiah said "my boyfriend."

"Wait. What?" I called out, but Isaiah was already downstairs by the time I said anything.

I knew who it was anyways. Throughout the whole day, I had been purposefully avoiding using my phone. My response to West was definitely inadequate. After reading over the texts, there was definitely a possibility that I stood him up. I was entirely freaked out, yes, but I did feel a little bad for that one.

When I came downstairs to the front entrance of my house, I didn't have to try very hard to hide my surprise. My earlier suspicions were correct. Weston Greer, in all his bad-boy glory, was standing in front of my door. He looked more awkward than I had remembered him. One hand was clasped against his left elbow and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. Still, with his pine green sweatshirt, black jeans, and black sneakers, he was way cooler than I would ever be. Or at least way cooler than Isaiah.

West's face lit up when he saw me coming down the stairs. A wide smile I realized I hadn't ever seen was spread across his lips. "Sorry for coming over without letting you know," he said after a moment. "Do you–uh–wanna get some lunch or something?"

I really didn't want to trust the guy, but I knew the other Alana must have. She was dating him. "Sure," I answered, forcing a closed-mouth smile to form on my lips. But just as I had assumed the other Alana trusted him, another thought crossed my mind. Anyone could have been the one to push me off the cliff. That meant there was a possibility that West was my killer.

And I just agreed to get in a car with him.

I wasn't fully aware of how nervous I appeared until West said something. We were in his car, then, heading to some diner downtown. I was staring at the road in front of me, not realizing how tense my jaw was, or how my knees bounced restlessly, or how my fingers fiddled with the friendship bracelet I wore on my wrist.

"Are you okay?" West asked, glancing from the road for a second. Though I was skeptical about trusting him, the way he looked at me told me he did truly care, at least in the slightest. Maybe he was wondering how the heck I managed to rise from the dead.

"Yeah." My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips.

West sighed. "I... I was worried about you. When you didn't show up last night, I thought maybe something happened." He paused to let me interject, but I didn't say anything so he continued. "You seem a little—I don't know—off. Did something happen?"

It was hard for me to answer him, honestly. One because of the whole situation I was in, but also because West seemed completely different. I mean, the only thing it seemed like he shared with Weston Greer was his face.

"Sorry for worrying you," I decided on saying, looking at the road in front of me. "But no, nothing happened. I have a little bit of a headache and I guess I forgot to tell you about it. Sorry." My mom gets migraines whenever storms roll through. I don't think I've gotten a headache from some weather system yet, but I'm crossing my fingers that I won't have to deal with that when I'm her age. But with this rain passing through, I thought it was a believable excuse.

"Oh." I could tell he wasn't satisfied with my answer, but I didn't want to keep him suspicious. Before West was able to say anything else, I quickly decided on asking about him. If he really had changed this much, I wanted to know why.

"So I was thinking maybe we could go to your house today. Maybe like for dinner or something?" I mentally cringed when I said that. It sounded like such an odd request.

West didn't seem too bothered by the request, though I heard reluctance in his tone. "Oh. Sure, I guess. I know you like my mom's cooking."

"Better than leftover pasta and canned alfredo sauce any day," I added with a smile.

"I'll have to ask my parents, though." He bit his lip, then, and I saw some expression flash across his face. But before I could really see what it was, he had moved on. "So you're cool with eating at Addison's, right? For lunch?"

I didn't even answer his question.

We were passing through town then and I felt another pang of insecurity. Most of the buildings looked the same, but there were a few that made my mouth run even drier. Jim's Sub Shop was one example. It got a health code violation a few years ago and led to the shop's shutdown. I didn't really go there, but this girl at my school—Riley—her dad owned the place. It was weird to see the shop up and running again here. I suppose the Jim in this world managed to find a decent exterminator.

I never thought I'd be so terrified to see a sandwich shop. But just little changes like that could change my life significantly. And it was those little changes that reminded me how different my life was becoming.

West pulled into the parking lot of Addison's, a funky 50's diner that nearly every kid in town hung out at. I usually loved going here. Not only was the atmosphere great, but the food was pretty good too. I usually didn't choose a burger when I went to a restaurant, but Addison's was an exception.

The only downside was that it sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean.

"Alana?" West suddenly said, fully looking at me now that we were parked. I didn't respond again. My eyes were glued to the water and again I found myself searching for that hint of baby blue. It had to be there somewhere, right? It had to be hidden among the thrashing waves or bobbing along the ocean's surface like a rubber duck.

West reached for my hand and I was snapped back to where I was, sitting in the passenger side of his shiny, black jeep. I jerked my hand away from him, suddenly aware that this stranger was in this car with me and touching me. I felt my breaths escape in panicky quickness, my hands fumbling desperately to unbuckle my seatbelt and get out.

Maybe West really was the killer. The other Alana trusted him, but she's dead now. If anything, that made West seem more suspicious. He's the only person who I've come into contact with that I don't know. But then again, did I really know anybody here? This family surely wasn't the one I went on roadtrips with, this Maya wasn't the one I used to race down the cul de sac, and this June wasn't the one I used to play with in my basement. None of them were the people I grew up with, no matter how much they looked or acted like it. It didn't matter who Alana trusted or not, because really, it might have been one of them in the end.

There was no way I could escape. I wouldn't be able to leave town. No one would let me move away just like that. But even if I did, I wouldn't be able to find out who killed the other Alana.

I just hoped I wouldn't end up suffering the same fate.

"Alana, calm down!" West reached for my hand again but I pushed him aside. He was freaked out, for sure. It wasn't until I was able to unbuckle my seatbelt that I felt myself gain composure again. "Alana?"

I took a deep breath and exited the car. I may have just screwed myself over for trying to act like the other Alana. If he was suspicious before, West would definitely be weirded out now.

I was walking away, then, and it wasn't long before West caught up. "Are-are you okay?" It was hard not to trust him because of that sentence. He seemed like he cared. A lot. I felt myself wishing I hadn't worried him.

I stopped walking and turned towards him. It took all my strength not to tell him everything right then and there. His brows were furrowed and his lips we contorted in a frown. But what really got me were his eyes, dark and gray like winter fog. In them I could only see sincerity and I was almost embarrassed by my earlier suspicions of him.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm okay. I just—uh—I just got a little—um—freaked out for a second. I'm okay now, though." I'm not sure if that reassured him any.

"What happened?"

I swallowed. "I... You know it just happens sometimes. When you think about things... Like I was thinking about the future and stuff and I got really worried because, you know, we'll be going separate ways. We won't get to hang out every day and stuff like we do now. I mean... It's only like two months away, West." Even though I was a crappy liar, I think West understood. His face morphed from pure worry to some form of understanding. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and this time, I let him.

My world was changing and if I didn't learn to change alongside it, I was going to fall.

________

That day was one both happy and entirely strange. As West and I spent the day together, it started to become easier to forget that I had only met him that morning. After we got lunch at Addison's, we headed over to my house and played video games for the rest of the afternoon. I managed to keep my true identity hidden, besides for the fact that the other Alana "didn't usually like Call of Duty". I told West that I only liked zombie mode and that seemed to suffice.

When it was around six-thirty, West and I headed over to his house. Much to what I remembered about Weston Greer, West lived in a large colonial-style home in Northpass' only gated community. When we walked inside, I was greeted by subtle cinnamon scent, a blast of cool air, and an energy-filled, toffee-colored retriever.

"Nova! Stop jumping!" West yelled in surprise, attempting to pull the dog away from me. I only smiled and laughed, trying to give the dog as many pets as I could before West released her into the backyard. "Sorry Alana," he said after he closed the back door. We were standing in his kitchen, then, after going through the mudroom from the garage. It was a beautiful kitchen with white marble countertops and matching white, ornate cabinets. I'm sure the other Alana and West did a lot of baking here.

Although, I'm not sure how the other Alana and I's hobbies matched up. She didn't like playing video games, it seemed like, and I hoped that was the only thing we differed from. Thankfully, after a quick look at the videos online, my routine for my school's dance team was the same. I don't know what I would do if I had to relearn and entirely different dance by Tuesday.

"It's okay," I laughed in response to West's apology about Nova. I was just glad that the dog didn't start barking or growling at me because I was someone else. Maya's dog, Zion, was pretty subdued in general so I didn't have a problem with him either.

West ran a hand through his hair just as a woman stepped into the kitchen. Her reddish-brown hair, almost identical in shade as West's, was tied up in a neat low bun. She smiled politely at me before motioning towards the dining room.

"We were waiting for you guys to arrive before we started eating," Mrs. Greer said in a polite, but oddly chilling voice. It wasn't until she had spoken that I realized there was a shift in atmosphere. I was suddenly cold.

West and I took seats next to each other on one side of the table and as we sat down, I admired the elegant beauty of the room. It seemed as though the Greers' had an eye for victorian-like furniture. Everything was ornate, down to the detailed, carved edges of the dining table. The plates were also beautifully designed, the kinds that screamed "break me and it'll cost more than your college tuition to replace!" I was careful where my hands were placed that night.

Another odd thing about entering the dining room was that there were two other West-looking children sitting across from us. I don't know why but I had gotten the vibe that West was an only child, so I was weirdly surprised to see his siblings eating with us. I prayed I wouldn't have to mention their names in conversation. The girl, who looked around eleven or so, smiled at me. I smIled back. The other, a boy who looked only a few years younger than me stared at the basket of dinner rolls in front of him.

"Nice for you to join us," Mr. Greer spoke from one end of the table, pulling my attention away from the siblings.

I smiled at him politely. "Thank you for having me." It was funny. I would have thought I'd be dating someone for more than a day before meeting their family.

The dinner was pleasant enough. The parents asked questions often, checking up with their children and with me. Their conversations felt meaningless, though. I felt a disconnection. It was as if these people sitting around me were no more real than mannequins in front of a department store. Or maybe they were more like wax figures.

From afar, they looked like just another family in Northpass. They were mature and nice, the kinds of people you'd invite over for dinner on occasion or chat with when you ran into them at the grocery store. But when you got a little closer, crossed over that white tape at the wax museum, that was when you saw what these people really were. No longer were they those friendly neighbors walking on the other side of the street or sitting a few tables down at a restaurant. Instead, the faces that stared blankly back at you were only pieces of wax, as lifeless and soulless as they could be.

Even if you were so sure you had seen them blink.

Chapter 3 is finally up! It took me so long to figure out what I wanted to do.
How do you guys think of West and his family?
Stay tuned for more about West and all the other characters. I have big plans ;)

Thank you guys so much for reading!
As always,
xoxo. Emmy