The sun had dipped low, casting long golden shadows over the front lawn of St. Edda’s. The air had that crisp pre-evening chill, hinting at another snowy day, but was still gentle enough to feel romantic, if you were into that sort of thing. Juno wasn’t sure if she was.

  She and Ian stepped out of the club room, their footsteps echoing lightly in the empty corridor behind them. The cocoa scent still clung to her clothes.

  “I still think the sampler tray is a genius idea,” Ian was saying, practically bouncing beside her.

  “One flavor for each class?” Ian mused aloud, then shook his head, eyes sparking. “No, wait. That’s too basic. What if we made it a journey through winter itself? Like... early winter, with all the warm, citrusy notes: orange zest, cinnamon, that spiced earl grey one you did. Then midwinter gets deeper with richer stuff, like dark cocoa with smoked salt or that almond butter ganache thing. And late winter’s the sweet part, right? Vanilla, toasted marshmallow, honey-glazed cocoa... It's all in your Project 365. You basically mapped out the emotional rollercoaster of the season in drink form.”

  He grinned at her, a little sheepishly. “Is that weird? A cocoa tasting that walks you through the moods of winter?”

  Juno tried to keep up, nodding along, smiling. The panic that had kept her stiff and uncertain for the first half of their meeting had faded a little, softened by Ian’s enthusiasm and the fact that, against all odds, he genuinely wanted to do this with her. Not the real Celia—her. It was both horrifying and kind of... nice.

  She clutched her notebook tighter, the leather cover now warm from her hands. “You’re really going all in on this,” she said, voice light, hoping he couldn’t hear the nerves chewing at the edges of her words.

  “Well, yeah,” Ian said, with a sheepish little grin. “I mean, it’s the first time I get to work on something like this. And with you—uh, I mean—because you’re, you know, kind of brilliant with the cocoa stuff.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And it’s fun.”

  That made her cheeks warm. She turned her face just slightly away, pretending to examine the lamppost ahead like it was suddenly fascinating. “You think cocoa is fun?”

  Ian laughed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “I think you make it fun. I mean, Project 365? That’s so wild and cool and structured and chaotic all at once. Honestly, I don’t know how you came up with all those combinations.”

  She nearly told him she didn’t. That they weren’t hers. That every recipe was something she had pieced together from someone else’s life. Instead, she shrugged and said, “Sleep deprivation is a powerful motivator.”

  They reached the school gates, the last of the other students trickling off in pairs or groups, their chatter like a distant river.

  “Well,” she said, tugging her bag up her shoulder, “I should probably—”

  “Wait.” Ian turned toward her, suddenly bashful again, his feet scuffing against the concrete. “Um. Would it be weird if I... walked you home? I just… I still have a few ideas I didn’t get to say, and it’s a nice walk, and I promise not to ramble too much—unless you like that, I mean, not that I think you do, but—”

  She blinked. He looked like he might combust on the spot. “Sure,” she said, softening. “You can walk me home.”

  “Cool,” he breathed a sigh of relief.

  They stepped out of the gates together, the golden sky stretching above them. For a moment, Juno allowed herself to enjoy it: the way their shoulders aligned as they walked, how his presence made her feel less like an imposter and more like a person. A real girl. A real friend.

  But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him.

  Across the street, beneath the bare skeleton of a tree stripped by winter, Aaron stood with his back against the metal railing.

  Frost clung to the branches above him in delicate silver veins, unmoved by the cold wind that nipped through the air. His head was down, thumb lazily scrolling his phone.

  She hesitated mid-step. Her mouth opened. “Hey—”

  But someone brushed past her first.

  A girl. Brown-haired. Dressed in a sleek, high-collared blazer and pleated skirt. She nudged Juno’s shoulder ever so slightly, not enough to knock her off balance, but just enough to make it obvious. Intentional.

  “Oh, sorry,” the girl said smoothly, her voice warm and amused. Her dark eyes flicked to Juno, recognizing her in a way that made her stomach twist.

  It was her.

  The girl from across the café. The one who met up with Aaron the day before, talking to him and smiling.

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  The girl didn’t stop. She crossed the street in polished steps and met Aaron without missing a beat. Aaron smiled when he saw her, in that soft, rare way that Juno had never seen before. He glanced once, briefly, over the girl’s shoulder.

  His eyes met Juno’s.

  Just for a second. But it was long enough to make her heartbeat stutter.

  Then he looked away and began walking with the girl, their silhouettes framed by the gold-pink light as they strolled the opposite direction.

  “Whoa,” Ian said beside her, breaking the silence. “That… was your stepbrother, right?”

  Juno blinked, breath returning all at once like she’d been underwater. “Y-yeah.”

  Ian glanced after the pair, his brow furrowing. “And that girl…? You know her?”

  She shook her head a bit too fast. “No. Probably just someone from school.”

  Ian tilted his head. “She’s not from St. Edda’s. I don’t even think she’s from anywhere nearby. That uniform… it’s not one I recognize.”

  His voice turned curious. “Is he… dating her or something?”

  Juno’s brain short-circuited. “Wh-what? No. I mean…probably not. I don’t know. Maybe? They’re just…talking.” Her laugh came out high-pitched and unnatural. “I mean, Aaron talks to people. Sometimes. I guess.”

  Ian looked at her. “Are you okay? You just kinda… froze up.”

  “I did?” Juno gave what she hoped was a casual shrug and not a full-body panic spasm. “I’m fine. Totally fine. Just… wasn’t expecting that. My brother and her. The whole… surprise element of it all.”

  Ian offered a sympathetic smile, but his eyes lingered curiously on her a moment longer. “Weird surprise, huh?”

  “Weirdest,” she muttered, already turning away. “We should, um, keep walking.”

  She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Not with her thoughts racing, her cheeks burning, and her heart suddenly tangled in a mess of questions.

  Ian, thankfully, didn’t press. As they made their way down the sidewalk, he picked up where he left off, tossing out cocoa booth slogans and design themes, rambling about fairy lights and chalkboard menus.

  Juno nodded along, but she only half-heard him. Her mind was back on Aaron and that girl. The knowing glance. The deliberate bump. The smile that wasn’t meant for her.

  Who was she?

  By the time they reached her street, Ian was winding down.

  “I guess we’ll finalize everything tomorrow,” he said, stopping near the steps to her house.

  “Yeah,” Juno said. “Tomorrow.”

  There was a pause. Ian looked at her with an expression that was somewhere between nervous and hopeful, the edges of a smile threatening to tug at his lips.

  She panicked. “I’ll, um, see you then!”

  And she bolted up the steps, heart pounding, waving awkwardly over her shoulder. He waved back, slowly, and only turned away when she vanished through the door.

  —---

  Later that night, the house was quiet. The kitchen lights buzzed low, casting a warm glow on the counters as Juno stirred her second cocoa of the day. This one was more for comfort than flavor: an overly dark blend with dried cherries and a splash of hazelnut syrup. This time, at least, she was awake enough to actually make it right.

  She was halfway to the stairs, mug in hand, when the front door opened.

  Aaron stepped in.

  Still in his uniform. Winter coat unbuttoned. He looked... smug. But not in a mean way. More like he had just won some long, quiet game that only he knew the rules to.

  “Oh,” he said when he saw her. “Still up?”

  “Could say the same to you,” Juno replied, lifting her mug.

  He stepped into the kitchen, brushing a few snowflakes off his shoulders. “Late cocoa break?”

  “Therapeutic purposes.”

  “Hm.” He hung his coat on the hook. “Smells kinda weird.”

  “It’s cherries,” she snapped. “They were dried.”

  Aaron smirked.

  And before she could stop herself, the words were tumbling out: “So... who was the girl?”

  His eyes lifted, amused. “What girl?”

  “You know. The one from earlier. Fancy uniform.”

  He casually removed his winter coat, utterly unbothered. “Just a friend of a friend. From another school.”

  Juno raised a skeptical eyebrow. “She bumped into me. On purpose, I think.”

  “Did she?” He didn’t sound surprised. Or sorry. “Maybe she has poor spatial awareness.”

  “Do all your ‘friends of friends’ have that?”

  “Only the interesting ones.”

  She rolled her eyes and made to leave, but his voice stopped her.

  “Do you remember your best friend? Before Mom met Dad?”

  She froze.

  That wasn’t a casual question. Not something you asked out of nowhere. Not with that look in his eyes: soft, probing, curious in a way that didn’t feel teasing at all.

  Her brain scrambled.

  Lie. Lie fast.

  “Of course I do,” she said, forcing her voice steady. “How could I forget?”

  Aaron studied her for a second too long. Then, he smiled.

  “That’s good.”

  She barely had time to process it before he stepped forward. Gently, he plucked the cocoa mug from her hands, his fingers brushing hers for just a second.

  Juno stood frozen, staring at the spot where his hand had been.

  Aaron took a slow sip, his gaze never leaving hers.

  “Hmm,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s good. But it could be a little sweeter.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it again, unsure if she should feel insulted or flattered or just completely and utterly derailed.

  He handed the mug back to her, and with one last pat on her head he turned and headed down the hall, whistling something light and off-key.

  Juno stared after him, cocoa mug trembling slightly in her hands.

  The cherries floated to the surface, staring back at her.

  “…What just happened?” she whispered to the mug.

  It had no answers.