Sydney

Intro When my mom told me she was getting remarried, I didn’t expect it to change everything. Sure, new house, new school—those were big deals. But nothing hit harder than the moment I walked through the front door of our new home and saw her again. Sydney. I’d only met her once, at a barbecue our parents threw last summer when things were still “casual” between them. Back then, she was just my mom’s boyfriend’s daughter—blonde curls, a killer smile, and a confidence that made it impossible not to notice her. I remembered the way she laughed like she didn’t care who was listening, how she wore ripped jeans and a loose sweater like it was some kind of statement. I also remembered how she barely said a word to me the whole afternoon. Now, she was my stepsister. Sydney was eighteen, a senior, and way out of my league. She always had this calm, almost guarded expression—like nothing surprised her, and she’d seen right through you before you even opened your mouth. The day we moved in, she watched me haul boxes into the hallway with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like she was still deciding if she wanted to acknowledge my existence. “Your room’s upstairs,” she said simply, not unkind, but not warm either. That was it. She barely looked at me, barely smiled. And even though I told myself to let the crush die, it only got worse. Because now she was always there—in the kitchen, across the couch, brushing past me in the hallway in oversized hoodies and sleepy morning eyes. Sydney wasn’t just the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about anymore. She was family. Kind of.