The rink was a dark cathedral of ice, the frozen surface shining like a mirror under the stadium lights. Lily was enveloped by the width of Ethan's body, her hands gripped on his hockey stick, her own breath misting in the chill. The pendant in her jeans pocket hummed softly, and she recalled Nora's cryptic message: Find each other's hearts. She shoved the thought aside, focusing on the puck Ethan had just slid across the ice. He stood opposite her, in her own petite body, brown curls spilling from a borrowed Wildcats cap. His scowl—her scowl—was all business. "Again," he barked, Lily's soft voice carrying his sharp edge. "You're still swinging like a toddler."
Lily's anger flared. Ethan's deep voice thundered in her chest. "If you'd stop yelling and explain maybe I'd understand." She skated along, blades scraping unevenly. The bulk of him was large but clumsy, like driving a truck after riding a bicycle. She slashed at the puck, stick deflecting weakly off it. It bounced away; she groaned and slammed the stick onto the ice. "This is impossible!
It isn't," Ethan barked, skated closer. Her own face glared back at her, strange and hard. "You were lucky yesterday. Do it on purpose. The championship is six days away, and I'm not losing my team because you can't handle my life.".
"Your life?" Lily shot back, towering over her own body. "You're butchering mine! Mia's onto you, and you're acting like a jerk in my classes. At least I'm trying!"
A glimmer of something on Ethan's face—guilt, maybe?—but he crossed his arms, aggressive. "Fine. Watch me." He grabbed a practice stick, clumsily proportioned to her small size, and skated out to the puck. His form was clumsy in Lily's body, but his skill sliced through, jabbing the puck with swift, vicious pokes. He shot, and it went in, a clean goal. "Like that," he gasped. "Muscle memory. Don't think it, feel it.".
Lily scowled, her temper fading. He was good, even in her body, and that dedication stirred something in her—respect, maybe, or something else. She pushed it away, scooping up another puck. "Again. Slowly."
Ethan grumbled but complied, breaking down the stance, the grip, the swing. They practiced for the rest of the hour, Lily mimicking his movements, her swings improving. Sweat soaked through Ethan's jersey, and her muscles ached, but each shot was less and less of a fluke. When she finally did get one in the net, the slap was like the crack of triumph. She spun around, grinning, and caught Ethan's eye—her eye—wider in surprise. "Not bad," he said, a gentleness in her voice that was rarely there. Their eyes locked, the chill of the rink melting under the warmth in her chest—not the vibration of the pendant, but something gentle, fragile. Ethan looked away first, coughing. "Keep practicing," he snarled, skating off toward the boards.
Lily followed him, her blades screaming. "Why do you care so much about this game?" she shouted, resting on her stick. "It's not just about winning, is it?
He stood up straight, her small shoulders squaring. "It's my life. Scouts are watching. I blow this, I'm done." His voice—her voice—cracked, and Lily saw a flash of the fear behind the bluster. She'd read it in his journal, the scrawled pages about disappointing his team, his dad.
"You won't blow it," she said, surprising herself. "You're… you. And I'm not letting you down."
He turned, her brown eyes raking Ethan's face—her face. "Why are you doing this? After I." He trailed off, his fingers rubbing her neck, an action so Ethan it was strange on her body. "I was a jerk at the festival. You didn't deserve that."
Lily's throat closed. His rejection still stung, but seeing him now, exposed in her skin, calmed the hurt. "I wanted you to see me," she admitted, Ethan's voice rough. "But now… I am seeing you. And I do not hate it."
The atmosphere shifted, charged like the moment before a storm. Ethan stepped closer to her, her small hand on Ethan's cuff—her cuff. "Lily—
A shout shattered the moment. "Ethan!" Jake stormed onto the rink, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. "What's going on? You're out here with… her?" He jerked his head at Ethan, in Lily's body, confusion twisting his face.
Lily's heart lurched. "Just… helping a friend," she said, forcing Ethan's cocky grin. "What's up, man?"
Jake's gaze flicked between them, suspicious. "You've been weird all week, cap. Missing drills, acting soft. And now you're cozying up with some art girl?" He glared at Ethan, who bristled in Lily's body.
"She's not just some art girl," Ethan snapped, then froze, realizing his mistake. Jake's brows shot up, and Lily's stomach plummeted.
"Chill, Jake," she said, skating between them. "I'm just blowing off steam. Team's fine."
Jake didn't buy it, his jaw tight. "Coach is watching you, Ethan. Don't screw this up." He stalked off, but his backward glance promised trouble.
Ethan cursed, her small fists clenched. "He's gonna dig. We're screwed if he figures this out."
Then we act," Lily said, her resolve hardening. "And we rehearse this script. Nora told us it's all about truth, didn't she?" She dipped into her pocket and pulled out the pendant, its star mark warm against her palm. It hummed slightly, like a heartbeat.
Ethan eyed it warily. "Your aunt is nuts, but. okay. Let's go look for her tomorrow. Tonight, we stick to the plan.".
They broke apart, Lily dashing to Ethan's dorm, her head spinning.
Jake's suspicion a ticking time bomb, the pendant's vibration a countdown. She collapsed onto Ethan's bed, the clutter of the room—hockey gear, energy drink cans—now strangely reassuring. Her hand rose to the pendant, Nora's words echoing: Find each other's hearts. What was that even meant to mean? Ethan's fear, his apology—those had been fissures in his armor, suggestions of a person she had not known. And her own power, growing with each triumph, was shaping her as well. The next day, she survived Ethan's classes, dodging Jake's curious questions. At lunch, she spotted Ethan—her body—eating with Mia in the cafeteria. Mia's curls bobbed as she spoke, but her eyes kept darting to Ethan, scrunched with worry. Lily's stomach cramped. Mia was too smart, too close. If she discovered… Her phone buzzed –Ethan's phone. Text message from Mia: Lily's been off. Library? Sent to Ethan's phone, not to hers. Lily's blood ran cold. Mia was toying with her. She sprinted toward the library, Ethan's legs gobbling up the quad. Mia leaned on the stand against the study desks, arms crossed. "Ethan," she snapped. "Where's Lily? The real Lily."
Lily's mouth was dry. "What are you even talking about?" she asked, eliciting Ethan's easy laugh. "She's in class, most likely."
Mia stepped closer, her eyes blazing. "I know my best friend. That is not her. And you're not being you, either. Spill, or I'm ratting everyone out.".
Lily's heart pounded, the pendant burning in her pocket. Before she could answer, Ethan burst in, her own face pale. "Mia, back off," he said, Lily's voice sharp. But Mia's gaze flicked between them, realization dawning.
"You're… swapped," Mia whispered, her voice trembling. "Oh my God, it's true."
Lily and Ethan exchanged a panicked glance. "Mia, wait—" Lily started to say, but a figure emerged from the darkness. Jake, arms crossed, his grin threatening. "Swapped, have you?" he asked softly. "CARE TO EXPLAIN, CAP?"
There was silence across the library, the pulse of the pendant thudding in Lily's ears. They were cornered, caught, with the championship within reach and their secret unraveling. Whatever the comet needed in the form of reality, they were running late to find it.