Chapter 6 – Secrets I Wasn’t Meant to Read
Rae's POV
There are a lot of things I’ve imagined finding under someone’s bed.
Dust bunnies. Old socks. Maybe a crumpled snack wrapper or a forgotten shoe.
But Lucas’s journal?
Yeah, that one was not on my bingo card.
I sat on the edge of his bed—technically mine now—and stared down at the notebook in my hands. It was navy blue, a little scuffed on the corners, and had one of those elastic straps to keep it shut. Like it was holding in dangerous secrets.
The kind I was probably not supposed to read.
But.
He told me to.
Which meant I had permission.
Sort of.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I flipped open the cover and read the first page again.
If Rae ever finds this, it means she’s me now. And if she’s me… she deserves to know the truth.
The truth?
I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.
But I turned the page anyway.
Page one was dated about three weeks ago.
April 5
I chickened out again.
I was going to say something. Really. I practiced it like ten times in front of the mirror. “Hey Rae, you’re kind of amazing and also I think I might like you, like like-like you.” It sounded okay when I said it to my shampoo bottle. Not so much when I saw her standing there with her hair half up and that dumb hoodie she always wears when it rains.
Why is this so hard?
I blinked.
Wait.
He liked me?!
Like, before all this swap madness?
My heart stuttered.
I flipped to the next page.
April 7
Today she asked me if I thought Jamie liked her. I said no. I lied. Not because I actually think Jamie’s into her—but because I don’t want her wasting time on someone who doesn’t deserve her.
God, that sounds so selfish written out. But she just… doesn’t see herself the way I do. Like when she smiles after she wins an argument, or how she gets all quiet when she’s actually nervous but pretends to be chill.
I sound like a loser. But at least this notebook won’t judge me.
I squeezed the pages tight. Something in my chest felt hot and heavy, like embarrassment and something else I couldn’t name yet.
There were more entries, short ones. Little things he noticed about me. Things I didn’t know anyone saw. Like how I hum to myself when I do math problems. Or how I doodle stars on the corners of worksheets.
He remembered the weirdest, most unimportant things—and it made me feel… seen.
I wasn’t ready for that.
And then I reached the last page. The newest entry.
April 12
If she’s reading this now, then everything is upside down.
Rae, I don’t know how or why this happened to us, but if I’m not in my body anymore, and you’re not in yours, then I guess… this is my backup plan. The confession I couldn’t say to your face.
I liked you. For a long time. I think I still do.
And if you hate me for it, that’s okay. I just wanted you to know. Even if it’s too late.
– L
I let the notebook fall shut in my lap.
My cheeks were burning. My heart was going nuts. And my brain?
It had officially blue-screened.
Lucas liked me.
Lucas Matthews.
My best-friend-turned-awkward-body-swap-co-conspirator liked me.
And I’d spent the last few days arguing with him, teasing him, nearly punching a mirror because of him—and the whole time, he’d had feelings.
I buried my face in my hands and groaned.
“Okay. Okay. No big deal. He wrote this before the switch. That doesn’t mean anything now.”
Except it did.
And now I couldn’t un-know it.
The worst part? I didn’t even know how I felt. I mean, I knew I didn’t not like him. But did I like him-like him? Or was I just confused because we were sharing skin and texting each other from our own bodies?
Ugh. This was getting too deep for a Tuesday night.
I slid the journal under the bed again and stood up.
But before I could overthink it any further, my phone buzzed.
Lucas.
Lucas: You home?
Me: Yep.
Lucas: You okay?
Me: Define okay.
Lucas: You found it, huh.
Me: Yeah.
There was a long pause. The kind that made you think the other person dropped their phone in panic.
And then…
Lucas: Want to talk about it?
I stared at the screen.
Did I?
Not really. But also yes. Yes, absolutely. Because avoiding things had gotten us exactly nowhere so far.
Me: Come over. Back door’s unlocked.
I tossed the phone on the bed and sat at the edge, bouncing my knees while I waited.
Three minutes later, Lucas climbed in through the back door and poked his head into the room. “Knock knock.”
I waved him in.
He sat across from me, eyes flicking around the room. “You cleaned in here?”
I snorted. “You’re welcome.”
Then silence.
The awkward kind.
The oh-god-what-do-we-say-now kind.
Finally, he spoke. “You read it all?”
“Yeah.”
“...Cool.”
“Cool,” I echoed, folding my arms.
Lucas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So? Thoughts? Feelings? Questions? Accusations?”
I bit my lip. “You could’ve just told me, you know.”
“I tried,” he said. “A lot of times. But you kept talking about Jamie, or dodging stuff with a joke, or… I don’t know. I guess I was scared.”
I blinked. “Scared of me?”
“Of losing what we had. Of you not feeling the same way. Of ruining everything.”
I looked at him closely. He wasn’t joking. He actually meant that.
And that did something weird to my stomach.
“I don’t know what I feel yet,” I admitted. “Everything’s been so upside down lately. I haven’t had a second to breathe, let alone think straight.”
“That’s fair.”
“But,” I added, “I don’t hate you. Or the notebook. Or the weird, kind of romantic thing you did.”
He smiled, slow and soft. “Kind of romantic?”
“Don’t push it.”
We sat in silence again, but it felt different now. Less loaded.
Until Lucas spoke again.
“Do you remember that time in eighth grade when you kicked a soccer ball into that kid’s face and then ran away screaming?”
I laughed. “Yes! You chased me down and told me it was the most graceful thing you’d ever seen.”
“And I meant it.”
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
The moment stretched, slow and syrupy, and I realized I wasn’t ready for whatever this was becoming—but I also didn’t want it to stop.
Just as I was about to say something—anything—my phone buzzed again.
New message.
This time, it was from an unknown number.
Unknown: I know what happened to you. Meet me behind the gym tomorrow. Come alone.
Lucas leaned over my shoulder. “Who’s that from?”
I shook my head. “No clue.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s a prank?”
“I don’t know. But whoever it is… they know.”
We stared at the screen.
Then at each other.
Then back at the message.
“Guess we’re not as alone in this as we thought,” I said.
Lucas nodded slowly. “Yeah. And something tells me tomorrow’s about to get a lot messier.”