I forced my face to remain neutral and glanced up, relieved that Reggie gave no indication she’d heard me cry out. She sat with her head bowed, focused on detangling what looked like a sailor’s knot of polka-dot socks.

Staring at Dag and Thora caught in an embrace on the cover of the book, I tried to think of the best way to approach this. Maybe she hadn’t even read it yet. No, the dog-eared pages and worn cover said otherwise. In fact, the loosened binding when I flipped through the pages told me it had been opened and closed many times over. She’d even highlighted passages in pinks and yellows. I rose from the floor and balanced on the edge of my bed with the book, noting that some of her favorite passages were also my own.

A hand waved in front of my face, calling my attention from my Viking heroes. “That’s my favorite book ever,” Reggie said. “Have you read it?”

I swallowed. Telling her I was a fan could lead to late-night talks about the books, which might make it harder to keep my secret. I glanced down at my nails and focused on the putrid pink polish the bottle insisted was “Rose” but looked more like “Pepto-Bismol” on my actual nails.

Reggie rounded up onto the balls of her feet as she waited for an answer.

I shook my head and handed the book back to her. “No. I haven’t.”

There. That should put an end to that.

Reggie grabbed my wrist, her fingernails biting into my flesh. “Oh my God! You have to read it! In fact, it’s a series. You have to read all of them. You’ll love them!”

She rifled through her suitcase, tossing objects over her shoulder. I ducked as a book whizzed past me and connected with the wall. It left a gray mark in the beige paint.

More book missiles flew my way, and I somehow managed to catch one of them. It was the second Viking Moon book, Rocky Shores.

Reggie watched me with eager eyes, as though she had just served a dinner she’d slaved over and couldn’t wait for me to take my first bite. I flipped the book over and pretended to scan the brief synopsis I had memorized ages ago. When I finally looked up again, my roommate still stared at me.

“Well?” she asked.

“It . . . uh . . . it looks great,” I mumbled. I gestured to the books surrounding me on my bed. “I’m just not sure I’ll have time to read all these with my classes and stuff.”

“Oh, you have to,” Reggie said, replacing the book in my hand with the first book of the series. “But start with this one.”

“Sure. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome!”

I couldn’t hear it, but the way she bounced in front of me, I couldn’t help but assume her voice currently rang at a pitch that would make dogs come running.

Heat pulsed in my cheeks as I realized Reggie was the first real fan I’d ever let myself talk to face-to-face. My publisher had tried to set up book signings for me over the years, but seeing as how they thought I looked like a contestant on America’s Next Top Model, I always found a way to get out of them. Other than Jin and my parents, I’d never had to talk to someone about my books before. I’d always had the option of walking away. Reggie wasn’t going to make it that easy.

She pulled the last of her T-shirts out of her suitcase and threw them in the empty dresser.

“Have you eaten?” she asked as she shoved her empty suitcase beneath her bed. “I’m starving. I think I might see what they have in the cafeteria. You wanna come?”

I pictured the throngs of new students assembling around tables and standing in line to fill trays with food and shook my head.

“I’m good,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”

Reggie pouted. “Really? Well, okay. But I’ll bring you back something.”

“Okay,” I said with a bob of my head and a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

She disappeared out of the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her. Grabbing my laptop from under my pillow, I propped it on my lap and flipped it open. I scrolled through the outline I’d created for the final book, then opened a new document in Word.

The cursor blinked its usual welcome at me, and I smiled back at it. This was always the most terrifying and most exciting part of writing. A blank page sitting before me that I would soon fill with words. My words. Words to take me and my readers away from the real world and into a place that could make us laugh, scream, and cry together. That was, if I could get started.

I typed Chapter One, immediately filling the void on the page. Or, at least, the top part of the void. There. Now all I had to do was write the rest of the damn book.

Something vibrated under my leg and I jumped, almost dropping the laptop onto the floor. I set it on the bed, on top of one of Reggie’s Viking Moon books, and grabbed my phone from underneath me.

A smile slipped onto my lips as I saw a message from Jin. I slid my finger across the screen.

JIN: Hey, Ellie-Bellie! How are you doing, beautiful? How’s college treating you?

I grunted at the phone and typed a reply.

ME: College is fine so far. First day. Roomie is a huge VM fan. O__O It’s gonna be a loooong year. And I told you to stop calling me that.

JIN: I’m not allowed to call you beautiful?

ME: Not that. Ellie-Bellie. I had to give up jellybeans so people would stop calling me that. Thanks to you.

JIN: I think it’s cute, but whatever. So, tell me more about this roommate. Did you tell her who you are?

ME: Are you crazy? She’d probably tie me up in the closet or something. Not kidding. She seems to like the books a little too much. But her name’s Reggie, and other than that, she seems sweet. How’s NYC?

JIN: Amazing. I still think you should come here. The people, the lights, the MEN. Oh, God, the men.

I laughed and shook my head at the screen.

ME: Yeah, sounds exactly like my kind of place. I’m good staying here in little old Fernbrooke, okay?

JIN: Too bad. You’re missing out on life. And love. You know, I was thinking, you should try to get to LA and at least watch them tape an episode of VM. It’d be good for you. Also, Gavin Hartley.

My screen filled with heart and kiss emojis. I swallowed the anxiety that crept up my throat as I thought of the last news I’d received from my agent.

ME: Actually, they changed their minds. They want to film in Fernbrooke now. They wanted to be close to me so I could consult. And apparently our town looks ancient.

JIN: WHAT?! That’s amazing! That’s it. I’m definitely coming home and visiting the set with you.

I licked my lips and glanced up at the books on my bed. One had fallen with the back cover up, giving me a glimpse of the perfect, full-lipped smile of the girl who was supposed to be me.

ME: Yeah. There’s just one problem.

JIN: What could possibly be the problem?

ME: They think I’m a gorgeous brunette, remember?

JIN: Fuck.

ME: My sentiments exactly.

JIN: What are you gonna do, El?

I exhaled. I’d been wondering the exact same thing all week as I paced my bedroom back home between packing sessions.

ME: I don’t know. Any ideas?

JIN: You could come clean. Tell your agent what happened.

ME: Not an option.

JIN: Okay . . . well, I suppose you need to find her, then. We already know she seems to have no problem pretending to be you. Track her down and see if she’ll visit the set in your place.

I sat back on my bed and digested his words. The pillow pressed into my lower back and I shifted it higher. He was right.

I had to find my imposter.

The problem was, how would I find someone when I didn’t even know her name?