Juno Mori woke up feeling like she’d been hit by a truck.

  She blinked, squinting against the sunlight spilling through the window. The bed beneath her was warm. The sheets were soft, that type of soft you only find in magazines where people with perfect skin and hair sleep in perfect, symmetrical bedrooms.

  Juno’s room, on the other hand, was always a disaster zone of discarded textbooks and random socks.

  Her limbs felt heavy, as though she had just run a marathon or maybe slept on a thousand-pound pillow. She frowned, trying to shake off the dizziness.

  The last thing she remembered was making a hot cup of cocoa for herself on the coldest night in the city’s history.

  She’d collapsed on her desk, her fingers wrapped around the mug, hoping that school would be canceled the next day because of the weather.

  But this wasn’t her room. And these weren’t her clothes.

  She sat up slowly, feeling the unfamiliar weight of her body. She wasn’t wearing the oversized hoodie she’d fallen asleep in; instead, she had on a soft, cozy sweater.

  But that wasn’t the weirdest part. The weird part was her hair. It was soft, blonde, and…oh God…wavy?! Juno’s black, straight hair was always a tangled mess, but this... this wasn’t hers. Not in a million years.

  Panic shot through her. She clutched her head, trying to gather her thoughts. She had no idea where she was. Was she kidnapped as she slept? Was she experimented on by some mad scientist, her brain transferred to a pretty girl’s body like Frankestein’s monster?

  She glanced around the room, trying to make sense of the situation. The walls were painted a calm, neutral color, the furniture all matching in a way that screamed “wealthy suburban family,” and the windows let in a soft light. Somehow, the coldest night in history was over like it never happened.

  She stumbled out of bed, the floor beneath her soft like carpet, though she could have sworn she’d been lying on the cold wood of her desk only a second ago.

  She shuffled toward the mirror hanging on the wall, hoping to snap herself out of whatever weird, disorienting dream this was. But when she caught her reflection, she froze.

  The girl in the mirror wasn’t her. It couldn’t be.

  Juno’s mouth went dry as she stared at the girl—an actually pretty young woman—who looked back at her. Blonde, straight hair. Pale blue eyes. A slim figure, like the cheerleader girls at school who always hung out with the jocks. The girls that would laugh and make fun of Juno every time she had to pass by them.

  She reached up to touch her face. Smooth. Too smooth. Not a pimple in sight. No glasses. No hint of the awkwardness she was used to.

  Her heart raced, and she stumbled backward, her legs threatening to give out from under her. Yup, I wasn’t imagining it, she thought. This is not my body.

  She shook her head violently, trying to clear the fog in her mind. This is a dream. I must have just passed out...

  But as the thoughts spun faster and faster, there was no denying it. She was no longer in her body. She was no longer in the world she always created for herself, away from everyone else.

  She looked around the room again, trying to steady her breath. Family photos caught her eye. Photos of a smiling family in matching outfits.

  A blonde woman with a kind smile. A man with a gruff face but warm eyes. A young man, cute with dark hair and eyes, smiling gently by the older one. And then, there was a pretty blonde girl with a bright smile.

  The same girl staring back at her from the mirror, looking perfectly content, perfectly put-together.

  They were a happy family. And now, Juno thought with a heavy gulp, this was her family. And Juno had no idea who these people were.

  Her eyes landed on the last photo on the wall. This one was different. Below the smiling faces, there were names.

  The mom was Anna. The dad was Mark. The guy who looked about her age, with the name “Aaron” scribbled under it, was smiling too. But what really caught her attention was the small, almost scrawled handwriting at the bottom: “Celia’s 16th Birthday, 2024.”

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  Wait. What? Celia... that’s me? Juno had never been named Celia. She wasn’t even sure what that name felt like in her mouth. And yet, there it was, written on the wall.

  Just as the confusion started to climax even more inside her, the sound of footsteps made her heart skip a beat.

  She turned to find a boy looking at her from the bedroom doorway. He was tall, with messy brown hair, and looked at her with surprise in his eyes.

  “Hey, you’re up,” he said, his voice full of relief. He stepped forward and gave her a quick, tight hug before she had a chance to react.

  Juno froze. Did…did a cute boy just hug her?! What did she do now? She hadn’t been hugged in... well, ever.

  She was completely unprepared for the warmth of his embrace. The way his body pressed against hers, the slight scent of his cologne… it made her head spin.

  And for some stupid reason, the fact that he was kind of cute made her feel even more awkward.

  The boy pulled back, studying her with a concerned frown. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming home last night. You didn’t text or anything, and I was getting worried.”

  Juno opened her mouth to respond but froze. He looked so... familiar. And then, her brain clicked into place. She had seen him in those family photos. But... she didn’t know him, not really.

  Was he supposed to be her brother? Was he her boyfriend? Was there a rulebook for how to navigate being in someone else’s body?

  “I... I’m fine,” Juno mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness. “I just had a... rough night, you know?” She didn’t know what else to say, so she went with that, trying to make it sound casual.

  Aaron gave her a scrutinizing look, but it softened. “Okay, but you didn’t reply when I texted. Where were you? And why didn’t you say anything about getting home?”

  Juno bit her lip, feeling the urge to brush him off again. “I... I didn’t think it was a big deal,” she muttered. “Sorry.”

  Aaron’s brow furrowed, his gaze softening with concern. “You sure you're alright? You didn’t even tell me you got home last night.” His tone was gentle, but there was a hint of worry beneath it.

  Juno bit her lip, trying to look anywhere but at him. She felt a strange lump form in her throat. She didn’t know why Celia hadn’t come home last night.

  Had she been out too late? Had something happened to her? The thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably. But she couldn’t exactly ask him about it without sounding insane, right?

  Aaron sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “It was freezing last night, you know? I thought something might’ve happened to you... I was really worried. It’s not like you to just disappear like that.”

  Juno’s heart dropped a little. Celia had worried him? She felt guilty, but she had no idea how to explain why she wasn’t Celia, or why she had no memory of the night before or how she ended up here. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words stuck in her throat, and all she could manage was a small, awkward, “Sorry.”

  Before she could say more, Aaron’s expression softened. Then, he reached out and gave her a light pat on the head.

  Juno froze.

  Her face instantly flamed. A pat on the head?! She wasn’t prepared for that. She was so not prepared for that. She had never been petted like a dog—hell, she never even talked to a boy this long before—and now here she was, blushing like an idiot.

  Aaron, completely unaware of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside her, smiled with an easygoing laugh.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re here. Now come on, I made you cocoa. It’s freezing here, and I thought you might like something warm.”

  Juno felt herself flounder under his gaze, her skin still burning with embarrassment. She opened her mouth, her voice small and unsteady.

  “Th-thank you...” The words tumbled out more awkwardly than she intended, and she couldn’t look him in the eye.

  Her mind scrambled to recover. Don’t act like an idiot, Juno—I mean, Celia. You’re Celia now. Somehow. Act cool, this is just your brother, probably. Focus.

  But it was hard to focus with her heart still pounding like a bass drum. The only thing she could think about was the warmth of Aaron’s hand on her head.

  Aaron just shrugged and gestured toward the kitchen. “C’mon, you look like you need a pick-me-up.” He led the way, completely unaware of how red her face had become.

  Juno followed him, still in a daze. In the kitchen, she spotted a steaming green mug of cocoa waiting on the counter. The scent of it was comforting. Familiar, even though it wasn’t her own.

  She wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. It felt like a lifeline in the middle of all this chaos.

  But as she sipped the cocoa, she could feel her thoughts still spinning, like a tornado. What had happened last night? Why was she here? And what was with Aaron?

  She stole a glance at him, only to find him watching her with a soft, amused expression.

  “You okay now?” he asked, leaning against the counter casually. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Juno nearly choked on the cocoa. “I’m fine!” she blurted, almost spilling it everywhere. Smooth, Juno. Real smooth.

  Aaron raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue. “Alright, alright. But seriously, if you’re gonna be this weird every time you wake up, I might have to start setting an alarm.”

  Her brain was still working overtime, piecing together what little information she had.

  Project 365. She’d seen it written on a note next to Celia’s desk. It was about drinking cocoa every day. No repeats. It sounded like the weirdest ritual ever, but it was written in Celia’s handwriting.

  Juno took a deep breath. She didn’t know what had happened, or why she was in Celia’s body, but one thing was clear: she couldn’t keep acting like she had no idea what was going on. She had to play along.

  Until I figure this out, I have to be Celia.

  Juno Mori woke up feeling like she’d been hit by a truck.

  She blinked, squinting against the sunlight spilling through the window. The bed beneath her was warm. The sheets were soft, that type of soft you only find in magazines where people with perfect skin and hair sleep in perfect, symmetrical bedrooms.

  Juno’s room, on the other hand, was always a disaster zone of discarded textbooks and random socks.

  Her limbs felt heavy, as though she had just run a marathon or maybe slept on a thousand-pound pillow. She frowned, trying to shake off the dizziness.

  The last thing she remembered was making a hot cup of cocoa for herself on the coldest night in the city’s history.

  She’d collapsed on her desk, her fingers wrapped around the mug, hoping that school would be canceled the next day because of the weather.

  But this wasn’t her room. And these weren’t her clothes.

  She sat up slowly, feeling the unfamiliar weight of her body. She wasn’t wearing the oversized hoodie she’d fallen asleep in; instead, she had on a soft, cozy sweater.

  But that wasn’t the weirdest part. The weird part was her hair. It was soft, blonde, and…oh God…wavy?! Juno’s black, straight hair was always a tangled mess, but this... this wasn’t hers. Not in a million years.

  Panic shot through her. She clutched her head, trying to gather her thoughts. She had no idea where she was. Was she kidnapped as she slept? Was she experimented on by some mad scientist, her brain transferred to a pretty girl’s body like Frankestein’s monster?

  She glanced around the room, trying to make sense of the situation. The walls were painted a calm, neutral color, the furniture all matching in a way that screamed “wealthy suburban family,” and the windows let in a soft light. Somehow, the coldest night in history was over like it never happened.

  She stumbled out of bed, the floor beneath her soft like carpet, though she could have sworn she’d been lying on the cold wood of her desk only a second ago.

  She shuffled toward the mirror hanging on the wall, hoping to snap herself out of whatever weird, disorienting dream this was. But when she caught her reflection, she froze.

  The girl in the mirror wasn’t her. It couldn’t be.

  Juno’s mouth went dry as she stared at the girl—an actually pretty young woman—who looked back at her. Blonde, straight hair. Pale blue eyes. A slim figure, like the cheerleader girls at school who always hung out with the jocks. The girls that would laugh and make fun of Juno every time she had to pass by them.

  She reached up to touch her face. Smooth. Too smooth. Not a pimple in sight. No glasses. No hint of the awkwardness she was used to.

  Her heart raced, and she stumbled backward, her legs threatening to give out from under her. Yup, I wasn’t imagining it, she thought. This is not my body.

  She shook her head violently, trying to clear the fog in her mind. This is a dream. I must have just passed out...

  But as the thoughts spun faster and faster, there was no denying it. She was no longer in her body. She was no longer in the world she always created for herself, away from everyone else.

  She looked around the room again, trying to steady her breath. Family photos caught her eye. Photos of a smiling family in matching outfits.

  A blonde woman with a kind smile. A man with a gruff face but warm eyes. A young man, cute with dark hair and eyes, smiling gently by the older one. And then, there was a pretty blonde girl with a bright smile.

  The same girl staring back at her from the mirror, looking perfectly content, perfectly put-together.

  They were a happy family. And now, Juno thought with a heavy gulp, this was her family. And Juno had no idea who these people were.

  Her eyes landed on the last photo on the wall. This one was different. Below the smiling faces, there were names.

  The mom was Anna. The dad was Mark. The guy who looked about her age, with the name “Aaron” scribbled under it, was smiling too. But what really caught her attention was the small, almost scrawled handwriting at the bottom: “Celia’s 16th Birthday, 2024.”

  Wait. What? Celia... that’s me? Juno had never been named Celia. She wasn’t even sure what that name felt like in her mouth. And yet, there it was, written on the wall.

  Just as the confusion started to climax even more inside her, the sound of footsteps made her heart skip a beat.

  She turned to find a boy looking at her from the bedroom doorway. He was tall, with messy brown hair, and looked at her with surprise in his eyes.

  “Hey, you’re up,” he said, his voice full of relief. He stepped forward and gave her a quick, tight hug before she had a chance to react.

  Juno froze. Did…did a cute boy just hug her?! What did she do now? She hadn’t been hugged in... well, ever.

  She was completely unprepared for the warmth of his embrace. The way his body pressed against hers, the slight scent of his cologne… it made her head spin.

  And for some stupid reason, the fact that he was kind of cute made her feel even more awkward.

  The boy pulled back, studying her with a concerned frown. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming home last night. You didn’t text or anything, and I was getting worried.”

  Juno opened her mouth to respond but froze. He looked so... familiar. And then, her brain clicked into place. She had seen him in those family photos. But... she didn’t know him, not really.

  Was he supposed to be her brother? Was he her boyfriend? Was there a rulebook for how to navigate being in someone else’s body?

  “I... I’m fine,” Juno mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness. “I just had a... rough night, you know?” She didn’t know what else to say, so she went with that, trying to make it sound casual.

  Aaron gave her a scrutinizing look, but it softened. “Okay, but you didn’t reply when I texted. Where were you? And why didn’t you say anything about getting home?”

  Juno bit her lip, feeling the urge to brush him off again. “I... I didn’t think it was a big deal,” she muttered. “Sorry.”

  Aaron’s brow furrowed, his gaze softening with concern. “You sure you're alright? You didn’t even tell me you got home last night.” His tone was gentle, but there was a hint of worry beneath it.

  Juno bit her lip, trying to look anywhere but at him. She felt a strange lump form in her throat. She didn’t know why Celia hadn’t come home last night.

  Had she been out too late? Had something happened to her? The thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably. But she couldn’t exactly ask him about it without sounding insane, right?

  Aaron sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “It was freezing last night, you know? I thought something might’ve happened to you... I was really worried. It’s not like you to just disappear like that.”

  Juno’s heart dropped a little. Celia had worried him? She felt guilty, but she had no idea how to explain why she wasn’t Celia, or why she had no memory of the night before or how she ended up here. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words stuck in her throat, and all she could manage was a small, awkward, “Sorry.”

  Before she could say more, Aaron’s expression softened. Then, he reached out and gave her a light pat on the head.

  Juno froze.

  Her face instantly flamed. A pat on the head?! She wasn’t prepared for that. She was so not prepared for that. She had never been petted like a dog—hell, she never even talked to a boy this long before—and now here she was, blushing like an idiot.

  Aaron, completely unaware of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside her, smiled with an easygoing laugh.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re here. Now come on, I made you cocoa. It’s freezing here, and I thought you might like something warm.”

  Juno felt herself flounder under his gaze, her skin still burning with embarrassment. She opened her mouth, her voice small and unsteady.

  “Th-thank you...” The words tumbled out more awkwardly than she intended, and she couldn’t look him in the eye.

  Her mind scrambled to recover. Don’t act like an idiot, Juno—I mean, Celia. You’re Celia now. Somehow. Act cool, this is just your brother, probably. Focus.

  But it was hard to focus with her heart still pounding like a bass drum. The only thing she could think about was the warmth of Aaron’s hand on her head.

  Aaron just shrugged and gestured toward the kitchen. “C’mon, you look like you need a pick-me-up.” He led the way, completely unaware of how red her face had become.

  Juno followed him, still in a daze. In the kitchen, she spotted a steaming green mug of cocoa waiting on the counter. The scent of it was comforting. Familiar, even though it wasn’t her own.

  She wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. It felt like a lifeline in the middle of all this chaos.

  But as she sipped the cocoa, she could feel her thoughts still spinning, like a tornado. What had happened last night? Why was she here? And what was with Aaron?

  She stole a glance at him, only to find him watching her with a soft, amused expression.

  “You okay now?” he asked, leaning against the counter casually. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Juno nearly choked on the cocoa. “I’m fine!” she blurted, almost spilling it everywhere. Smooth, Juno. Real smooth.

  Aaron raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue. “Alright, alright. But seriously, if you’re gonna be this weird every time you wake up, I might have to start setting an alarm.”

  Her brain was still working overtime, piecing together what little information she had.

  Project 365. She’d seen it written on a note next to Celia’s desk. It was about drinking cocoa every day. No repeats. It sounded like the weirdest ritual ever, but it was written in Celia’s handwriting.

  Juno took a deep breath. She didn’t know what had happened, or why she was in Celia’s body, but one thing was clear: she couldn’t keep acting like she had no idea what was going on. She had to play along.

  Until I figure this out, I have to be Celia.