Juno stepped out of Celia’s front door, and the cold morning air smacked her face. She blinked, taking a second to adjust.

  Aaron wasn’t home. Maybe he’d already left. She hadn’t bothered to ask where he went or when. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure how this whole step-sibling thing worked.

  She remembered how he waited for her by the school gates, and how they walked home in silence yesterday. What about mornings? Did they hang out? Was there some unspoken rule about how much time they were supposed to spend together? Celia’s journals mentioned Aaron several times, but not about small things like that.

  She was still trying to figure out where the hell their parents were too, but that wasn’t really at the top of her to-do list.

  As she trudged down the sidewalk, the pink tumbler clutched in her hand felt oddly comforting. The cocoa inside was still warm and rich. The weight of Celia’s phone in her pocket kept nagging at her, though. She had completely ignored it yesterday.

  She pulled out Celia's phone. The messages had been piling up: text after text, from people she didn’t know.

  Aaron’s name popped up first. The message was recent, sent two nights ago, just before she woke up as Celia. He’d asked where Celia was that evening. No response from Celia. No follow up message from Aaron either.

  “Sorry, Aaron,” she muttered under her breath as she scrolled down. She tapped the screen, half-tempted to shoot him a reply, but then decided against it. Maybe later.

  Next up, the group chats.

  Juno’s finger hovered over the screen. These were Celia’s friends, people she had never met, talking about school, classes, and homework.

  And boys. Of course, there were always the boys. The messages were all tagged with Celia’s name, but there were no responses from her.

  They were all waiting for Celia to weigh in on whether or not she’d be studying with them, or if she’d be going to the next party, or if she’d heard anything about this new “cute” boy that just transferred to 3-E.

  The guilt brewing up inside her turned a little more uncomfortable. Her thumb hovered over the messages, the names on the screen so familiar, yet so distant.

  “Sorry guys, been out of it. What’s the latest updatest?” Juno finally typed, sending it off without thinking much. She figured a simple “I’m back” would be better than nothing.

  But then, another message caught her eye. This one was from Tony. Juno remembered that name from Celia’s journals. He was the owner of the coffee shop where Celia worked, a little place called The Green Tea Café.

  Tony: “Hey, Celia, are you alright? You missed last night’s shift. Please get back to me when you can. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Juno felt a strange knot in her stomach. She hadn’t even realized Celia had missed work—her work. A small sigh escaped her lips.

  She’d have to deal with that later, but for now, she put her phone down and started walking a little faster. The feeling of being behind was getting to her.

  Then, just as she was about to slip her phone into her pocket, a new message came in, in a group chat called “Cocoa Club”. It was from someone named Marie.

  Juno blinked at the screen, the name not ringing any bells. Cocoa Club? The words danced in her head until—oh.

  Right. She saw that name in Celia’s journals. Cocoa Club was an after-school club Celia started last year with three other cocoa-obsessed classmates, a little after she became obsessed with her own ritual of making hot cocoa.

  One of those classmates was Marie, a year younger than Celia. Juno clicked on the message, trying to piece it all together.

  Marie: “Hey Celia, you still coming today? Are we meeting up or what? Let me know!”

  The other Cocoa Club members must be wondering why she hadn’t shown up. She felt an odd pressure build up in her chest. She didn’t even know what they did in the Cocoa Club. Celia’s journals didn’t give her much details there.

  Did they just... drink cocoa? Talk about life? Were there specific rules for how to properly enjoy hot chocolate?

  With little else to go on, Juno typed back:

  “Yeah, I’ll be there soon! See you in a bit.”

  Great. Cocoa Club. That was her plan now. She’d just have to fake it until she figured out what exactly it was.

  —-----

  After school, Juno stood outside her classroom, tapping her foot against the ground nervously.

  She was still standing there, awkwardly scrolling through Celia's messages, when she saw them.

  First came Ian, a curly-haired boy with glasses, holding a thermos in one hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder. Behind him was Mark, a tall, lanky underclassman. His thermos was almost laughable in its size, nearly reaching the size of his already elongated arm.

  Then there was Marie, trailing behind the others with a wild mess of curly hair that framed her face. Nothing about her stood out in a show-stopping way, but everything about her was quietly inviting.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Juno recognized them all from Celia’s journals, the pictures of their first Cocoa Club meeting from a year ago, each one smiling awkwardly but happily.

  They spotted her almost immediately.

  “Celia! Where have you been?” Mark asked. Ian shot him a look like he wasn’t so sure how to handle this, and Marie just gave Juno a little nod of recognition.

  Juno froze. She wasn’t sure what to say. How could she explain that she had no idea what was going on? She couldn’t say, “Hey, sorry, I’m just borrowing your friend’s body for a while.” So instead, she did what she was best at: making excuses.

  “Oh, you know,” Juno started, “just had a lot on my plate today. Got caught up in... stuff. You know how it is.”

  She hoped that would suffice. She was just trying to play it cool.

  “We’ve been waiting in the club room for like, thirty minutes,” Ian added, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, totally,” Juno lied, though she felt a little out of breath from the unexpected attention. “I’m good, just... let’s get going.”

  The "club room" turned out to be the strangest little space Juno had ever seen. It wasn’t even a room, more like a cramped, narrow hallway lined with shelves that barely fit the cocoa-making supplies. But to them, it was the "Cocoa Club" headquarters.

  Ian, Mark, and Marie pulled out their thermoses, setting them down with an odd sense of reverence. They squeezed into the small, cramped space around a weathered wooden table.

  Instead of proper chairs, there were old pillows scattered around. Juno followed them, unsure of where to sit, and ended up plopping down onto one of the pillows, trying to mimic their casualness as best she could.

  “Okay, so this week I brought a twist on the classic,” Mark announced. “It’s dark chocolate, but with a hint of orange zest and a touch of bourbon. Just a dash. Trust me, it’s great.”

  “I’ve got my signature salted caramel and sea salt recipe,” Marie said, speaking like her cocoa was a Michelin-starred dish displayed on TV. “It’s what we all need this week. Super cozy.”

  “And I’ve got classic cocoa with a hint of espresso,” Ian chimed in. “Can’t go wrong with the basics, right?”

  Juno nodded enthusiastically, though she had no idea how she was supposed to contribute. She couldn’t just sit there and pretend she knew about this “art of cocoa,” could she?

  Except—wait.

  Juno’s mind flashed back to that morning. Her creation. She had made cocoa, cocoa #2 to be exact. She decided to bring it up, almost cautiously.

  “I, uh, made some cocoa too,” Juno said, trying to sound casual as she opened the pink tumbler. “It’s not anything special. Just, um, a little bit of Celestial Cocoa, dark chocolate chips, brown sugar... and, uh, a dash of sea salt. Also, some heavy cream for texture. Nothing too wild.”

  “I’m in,” Ian said, eyes brightening. “Let’s see what you got!”

  Juno handed over her thermos, watching them take their first sips. They paused for a moment, and then started nodding with approval.

  “This is really good,” Mark said, his voice serious for a second. “Solid cocoa. You’ve definitely got some skills.” He grinned at her, and Juno wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking or not.

  The conversation flowed easily after that. They chatted about school, about their week, about the things that kept them up at night.

  Mark had spent the coldest night of the year at a friend’s house trying to finish a school project. Marie had curled up with a book. Ian was, of course, brewing more cocoa at 2 AM because he “just felt like it.”

  Juno blinked, her mind scrambling to keep up. Project 365. Of course. Celia must have mentioned it to them sometime ago.

  “Right,” Juno said, trying to sound confident. “I think we should do it. You know, a new cocoa every day, not just on meeting days. Each one will be different, and there should be no skipped days. That’s why it’s called Project 365. I’ve actually got a couple of recipes lined up already.”

  The moment the words left her mouth, their faces lit up. Ian practically bounced in place, and Mark gave a small whoop of excitement. Marie, who had been quietly sipping her cocoa, grinned wide.

  “This is perfect,” Marie said, leaning forward. “What kind of recipes are you thinking? Got anything wild in mind?”

  Juno took a deep breath before starting. "So, what you just drank," she began, a small smile on her lips, "was actually Cocoa #2. I started the project yesterday. Like you said, it’s called Project 365. I figured I’d start it up for real. One new cocoa every day, no repeat recipes, and no skipped days.”

  The group’s eyes widened with excitement, their faces lighting up.

  “Wait, you already started?” Ian asked, his voice full of admiration. “That’s awesome! What’s next? What other recipes are you thinking of?”

  Mark jumped in, caught up in the idea. “We’re doing this too, right? Like, we’re all in? Project 365 together?”

  Marie nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. We’ll all follow along. It’s gonna be the best cocoa challenge ever.”

  As they eagerly talked about what they could make and where they could take it, Juno felt a warmth spread through her chest.

  She could almost imagine that, if she were still in her real body, these would be the friends she’d want to do something like this with.

  For the first time since stepping into Celia’s life, Juno didn’t feel so out of place.

  As the club began to wrap up, Juno felt like things were slowing down. Maybe she was getting the hang of this. Maybe she didn’t have to fake it all the time.

  But then, as she was the first to leave the room, she overheard Mark nudging Ian.

  “So, when are you going to talk to her?” Mark said in a soft, teasing voice as he nudged Ian.

  Juno’s eyes were drawn to the letter peeking out of Ian’s blazer pocket, and when she saw Celia’s name written on the envelope, her stomach dropped.

  But it wasn’t just the name that caught her attention. Next to it, in what looked like a rushed, poorly done pencil, was a crudely drawn heart.

  The pieces clicked into place in a way she hadn’t expected. This was it. This was what they were talking about. Ian and Celia.

  Of course. A girl as pretty as Celia couldn’t go unnoticed.

  She could feel the awkward tension between them as Ian flushed crimson, awkwardly fiddling with his thermos. “Talk to who?” he muttered, clearly trying to dodge the topic.

  “Celia, man. When are you gonna talk to her?” Mark teased in a softer voice, smirking at him.

  "Uh, I... don’t really know, dude,” Ian stammered, looking anywhere but at Mark. “Maybe later…”

  Her heart raced as she walked ahead, leaving the little Cocoa Club headquarters behind her.

  Was she supposed to do something with this information? Help them? Did the real Celia feel anything at all for Ian?

  The cocoa she could handle. But love? That was uncharted territory. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she might have to wade into it…whether she wanted to or not.