A/N – Hey guys! Ronnie is back in business (for now)! ;)

On the bright side: I had a great Christmas – I have more than 40 oneshot and series ideas! I also got a new iPod touch and most of all – NO SCHOOL UNTIL JANUARY! Awesome, eh? ^o^

On the very ugly, dark side: my stories on HIATUS aren't getting any new ideas, so I might have to ditch them. If you know how my stories should proceed, don't hesitate to review and let me know. Also, I have two big culminating projects due after the break *sob* and like always, I've been procrastinating so much that I haven't even started! Dang it... Furthermore, I think with all the food I've been eating, I'm getting fat. -.-

Claimer: The places of Goldwell and Santerville are both my creations. Don't steal this or any of my work please! Just ask nicely if you want to use my fictional places (just don't – I repeat, DO NOT – steal my characters, plots, etc, mkaaay? :3).

Hope you guys had a very Merry Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate) and a wonderful New Year! You may now proceed with reading Body Double! :)

Oh and review to let me know how you like it pleeeease? ;D

"I can't believe you're going to ditch us this summer, Zoe," Liz complained.

"Yeah, it seems like every summer, your parents bring you somewhere awesome!" Amy chimed in.

My best friends and I were slowly walking the halls of our high school, trying to hold on to the last minutes I had in Goldwell Prep. Actually, the last minutes I had in the town of Goldwell in general.

Every year my adoptive parents plan a trip for the summer. It's not always somewhere fancy though, since we were tight in the financial department. The only reason I got into Goldwell Prep, the uber expensive high school, was because I rode on a full scholarship that paid for tuition. Anyways, my adoptive grandparents always chipped in with our annual summer adventures by paying some of the expenses. Last year's trip was to Guatemala to see the Mayan architecture, and the year before that was to Peru to visit Machu Picchu. To say the least, my parents were history junkies.

It wouldn't surprise me if this year's trip is to somewhere like Egypt to see the pyramids or somewhere remote where there are ancient cave drawings.

"I'm going to miss you guys though," I sighed.

"But I bet that you're going to meet a lot of hot guys on your vacation, Zo," Amy pointed out. "I'm so jealous!"

"Even if I did, they wouldn't want to have anything to do with me."

"Aha, WRONG! Haven't you seen this?" Amy asked me, whipping out a teen gossip magazine from her bag. "Look at the cover! LOOK AT IT! Liz, tell me I'm not crazy!"

"Amy, calm down."

Liz took the magazine out of Amy's manicured hands to take a closer look. "You know, Zoe, Amy's right. You look identical to Chloe Winters. It's scary."

I sighed, "Hand it over, Liz." I took one look at the cover and blinked once. I blinked once more. Maybe I had something in my eye? That must be right, since the girl looking back at me in the cover of the glossy paper had the same brown hair, pointed nose and blue eyes as me. Impossible. I flipped through the magazine to read the article.

"Singer, dancer, actress, host, author…so I guess she's a mega-super-dee-duper-freaking-star?" I concluded, shutting the magazine and throwing it back in Amy's face. "What's it gotta do with me?"

"Well, you'd be an awesome addition to that 'Look-A-Like' makeover show I've seen on TV once…" Liz pondered aloud.

My tone turned flat, "You know I don't do the public attention thing."

Amy slung an arm over my shoulder, "If you weren't so shy, then you could totally rival this Chloe girl. I've heard you sing before. Your voice is like an angel's!" She laughed as I slapped her arm away, shaking my head.

"I don't like to sing in front of anyone, Amy. How could you possibly know what I sound like when I sing?"

"Zoe, you hum to yourself when you think people aren't paying attention. That doesn't always mean people aren't listening," Liz reminded me. Ah, damn.

Sure, I liked singing out some tunes. And yeah, maybe my voice wasn't the worst, but with the insecurities I had, it would have been next to impossible for me to perform in front of a crowd.

I glanced down at my watch, softly letting out a few curse words. I had to be home soon or Dad would kill me. He loved our precious summer vacation time more than my mom and I combined. It was would be wise not to delay the trip any more than required.

"Guys, I'd love to stay and continue the chit chat for the next two months but my parents are planning to leave in about an hour. And I've still got to pack!"

"Will you text me? Or even call?" Amy pouted.

I sighed once more, "Probably not. There wouldn't be any internet or bars on my cell if we were going somewhere in the middle of nowhere."

I readjusted my bag and we all said our farewells. Liz asked me to bring back a souvenir and Amy asked me to bring back a hot guy. Pshht – in your dreams, Amy.

After dropping my bag on the couch, I looked in the kitchen, searching for Mom and Dad. They weren't there, so my best guess was that they were probably in the garage, prepping the car.

I sprinted up to my room, grabbed a suitcase, a handful of clothes, and started packing. Within twenty minutes, I was exhausted but finally done with stuffing every necessary thing in my luggage. I briefly wondered if I should bring something fancy, like the dress Grams gave me for my sixteenth, but I decided against it. There would be no reason to dress up all fancy during this vacation, now would there?

I lugged my heavy suitcase down to the garage, "Mom, Dad, I'm home."

Dad raised an eyebrow at my appearance. I bet I looked like I was going to collapse at any second. "Pumpkin, just leave your bags on the floor. I'll put it in the trunk for you. You look like you need some rest."

Mom jumped out from the passenger seat, giving me a quick hug before pushing me into the backseat of our small, red Honda. "It's going to be a long ride, sweetie. Just lie down, okay? Oh and I've made snacks if you're hungry," she said, giving me a brown paper bag.

I opened the bag and saw that she packed fresh strawberries and sliced mangoes. Mmm…fruit! And no, that was not sarcasm. It's just that ever since I was small, I picked fruit over sweets. Some kids at the foster home told me I was crazy, but each to his own, I guess.

I lived in a foster home up until five years ago, when I was twelve years old. I always wondered why my biological parents gave me away. Could they not afford to support me? Maybe my mother was a single teen mom? Or maybe it was something personal like there was something wrong with me, or that they just didn't want me. Oh whatever, it didn't matter. Mom and Dad loved me, that was all that counted.

"All right, summer adventures, here we come!" Dad cheered, starting up the engine.

"We brought the camera, right Clayton?"

"Yes, dear."

"And we brought the charger, too?"

"Yes, dear." Dad started to sound impatient.

"Did we forget anything? Oh my, did we?"

"Ye—NO, we're heading out now! I want to start this vacation ASAP!"

Listening to Mom's gentle hums and Dad's jokes, I dozed off without even asking them where we were headed.

I awoke to Dad's loud, boisterous whooping. "Watch out California, the Summers family has arrived!"

"So our vacation spot is in…California?" I asked, totally confused. I was still half asleep, mind you. Also, California seemed more of a tourist attraction rather than a historic site to me.

Mom patted the back of my hand, clucking her tongue at Dad's over enthusiasm. "Honey, you might be scaring our little Zo back here…" That shut Dad's mouth for a while but his happy dance was still visible from the backseat.

"Why California?" I asked again.

"We thought we'd switch it up this year, pumpkin. Your mom and I thought that maybe you'd like something more your age," Dad briefly frowned. "Don't take that the wrong way, pumpkin. No boys, drinking or parties. But you can collect shells and all that fun stuff."

"Clayton…" Mom warned him.

"Fine, fine, fine. But any boy who wants to go on a date with my baby has to have a talk with me first," he scowled.

I covered my red face with both of my hands. What's more humiliating about your parents knowing about your pathetic love life? Talking about it in front of you, that's what!

"Mom, Dad!" I whined.

Both of them took one look at my mortified face and changed the subject to how lovely this year's vacation will be. We got out of the car when we approached a big house. Scratch that – it was a mansion. The mansion belonged in one of those magazines for entrepreneurs and celebrities. Were we really going to stay here? How were my parents going to afford this?

I sighed, shaking my head. Think happy thoughts, Zo. Happy thoughts…

"Is this where we're going to stay for the summer?" I asked, scrunching my nose.

"Yep, she's a beauty, ain't she? A buddy of mine is letting us use his house for the meantime. He's some big company CEO or something," Dad grumbled, looking at the gigantic structure with reluctant awe.

Mom squealed as she started to take out the suitcases from the trunk. Dad and I got out of the car to help her.

"Sweetie, that's okay. You don't need to help us right now. Go to town, take the car. Get used to the area. Maybe make some friends?" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Dad glowered, "Don't give her any ideas, Sue."

Mom tossed me the keys, laughing. I pocketed the keys before dragging my suitcase into the lobby of the mansion. With a quick look around, I found a small powder room – a bathroom without a shower, I suppose – and changed into a black tank top, jean shorts, and some flip flops. I might as well enjoy the beach while I was in California…

Once I was changed into my beach attire, I fished out the car keys and slowly cruised around town, observing the pretty greenery and neighbouring mansions that flew by my window.

Turns out the town we were staying in was a relatively small one called Santerville, with little shops and expensive boutiques located in the town center. It seemed like the perfect place to settle down if one was wealthy or famous, or maybe even both. I was surprised that Santerville wasn't a big-shot city with tourists everywhere – it certainly had the potential to be one. Santerville was plopped right near the sea, so the beach was literally minutes away from the town center by walking.

I parked Dad's Honda near the beach to gaze at it for a while before getting out to play with the sand using a pail and shovel someone left behind. Thank the heavens that I've worn flip-flops.

When I was worn out from castle-making, I strolled the beach, lightly singing to myself. It didn't miss my notice how many heads turned my way as I passed by. I blushed and picked up the pace, forcing myself to walk away from the beach.

Somehow I found myself in front of a very classy restaurant called 'The Shrimp in the Vine'. The name sounded weird, so it must've been for rich snobs who ate caviar and food with names I couldn't pronounce. Taking one last glance at the golden exterior of the five-star restaurant, I turned on my heel and continued walking down the street, humming out some more tunes.

It wasn't even a minute since I turned away from the restaurant when I felt strong, masculine arms wrapped around my waist from behind me. I opened my mouth to shriek for help before being cut off.

"Chloe, I am so, so, so incredibly sorry. Even if you hate me, you can't just quit right then and there!" His voice was deep, husky, and oh so full of emotion. I shivered.

Eventually, common sense took over once again. I flailed in this guy's iron grip, getting ready to scream 'Fire!' because let's face it, if someone yelled 'Help, someone's attacking me!', would you look over and help out? I guess not. But if you screamed 'Fire!', then a lot more people would be aware of what's going on. Hehehe, wasn't I smart?

But before I was given a chance to let my voice out, I was interrupted. Very rudely interrupted, indeed.

I was forcefully turned around to face my attacker, and when this very gorgeous specimen of a criminal tilted my chin up to his face, he crushed his lips against mine.

Yeah, he kissed me. Jerk.

"Chloe, please forgive me," he mumbled against my angry lips.

I broke away from the kiss to glare at him, "Who are you calling Chl—"

…and he shut me up by kissing me again.

I really hated guys who thought they owned the world and could have any woman they want, because quite frankly, they weren't capable of either. Arrogant arseholes think they can go kissing any female in close range of them, even calling them by the wrong name. Ugh…I hated them.

This dude may be smoking hot and a fantabulous kisser but he was still essentially a pompous, over-confident pig.

Finally, Mr. I-Can-Kiss-Any-Girl-I-Want-Because-I'm-A-Hunk pulled away to look at my blushing, pissed off face. His green eyes softened as he took in my appearance.

"Can you forgive me, Chloe?"

I snapped, "Who do you think you're calling Chloe? Who is this Chloe anyway? If you're her boyfriend, you're being a terrible one at that since you can't even tell us apart!" I fumed, waving my frantic hands in his face.

His eyebrows knitted together, "So…you're not…Chloe?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

A/N: So you guys likey? ;)

Do you readers absolutely adore this little blurb so far? Tell me and I might feed y'all some more! (I'm not even getting to the most interesting parts of the story yet...:p)

I'm addicted to reviews and feedback, so even if you have nothing to write, I'll give you a default review you can fill out, mkay?

Dear Ronnie,
I'm so excited for the next chapter of
'Body Double'!
Don't stop writing and don't freaking procrastinate! Do it for us, your loyal readers!
Oh, and please do tell us who this smouldering stranger is in the next chappy!
Sending a ton of love & puppies,
_(insert username)_:3

The review button is down below. Press it. PRESS IT. You and I both know you want to...

~Ronnie~ who is dying from a fatal wound inflicted by the procrastination fairy