The First Day

So, one minute, it was night time - in the present (future?), in my own body, in winter - and the next, I'm on my ass outside of my old high school in the middle of September, not long after the school year began.

I was also a little drunk, at least when I left my body. I did sober up eventually but I think the lingering effects of... whatever happened to me, and finding myself in a strange place make it hard to trace where drunkenness ends and regular disorientation begins. I think that probably covered some of my awareness of how different my body suddenly was.

It was very overwhelming and took a minute to get my bearings and pull myself up. The first people I recognized were actually my old friends, Matt Hayes and Brett Jampolsky. We used to hang out all the time, and yet we totally fell out of touch by the end of University. They walked past me on their way in. I called after them, "Hey!" but they didn't look. I guess they thought that this random girl was shouting out to someone else.

I sped up to talk to them, starting to feel the difference in my body every step, but they disappeared into the crowd. By the time I got to the front door, I caught sight of my reflection in the front window.

There were a few people around but I wasn't anywhere in the reflection. That's when I noticed the hair, just at the side of my eyes, and looked down and saw... everything else.

So from that moment, I'm thinking, "It's a dream." Has to be. Being in high school and not knowing where you're supposed to be is a classic dream scenario. And yet it was too long and painful to be anything but reality.

Eventually the hallways emptied out and I just walked around. I haven't been to this place since graduation but it's exactly as I remember it. I'm trying to pretend I didn't see what I thought I saw, and yet I'm aware of a pair of straps over my shoulders, underwire around my ribcage... among other things.

I go into the Guys' Room. It actually smells worse than I remember. I look at myself in the mirror and think... who am I? What am I? Am I really a...

Tactfully placing my hands in certain places confirmed that.

I didn't have any time to worry though.  I heard the door open. Before I could think, some guys come in, two older kids whose names I don't know.

"What are you doing in here?" one asks.

I stammer, "I... I don't know."

"Well get out! I gotta piss!"

I rush past them and run down the hall. The vice principal, Mr. Connelly stops me. "No running. Where are you supposed to be?"

I don't know how to answer that. He asks if I have a schedule in my backpack. Of course, I think. I'm wearing a backpack. I didn't even realize. (Once I had it off it became apparent how it was awkwardly pinching my breasts together.)

We find the schedule. That was how I learned my name.

From there I spent the day shuttling myself through classes... it sounds weird to just go along with it but in a scenario like that it helps to have a piece of paper telling you where you are supposed to be. The hard part was in class, being cornered by some of Jessa's friends and being expected to act like she would, in response to their small talk. Luckily, teenage girls of any age tend to be a little self absorbed so I skated by. But by the tine 3:00 rolled around I was like a man in the desert who finally got a drink. Little did I know that was only partial relief.

Eventually, I found my way home.. to Jessa's house. I ate dinner with her family, saying as little as I could get away with, still confused and uncomfortable as hell. I went upstairs to bed at 9 - a little drowsy at most but trying to coax myself to fall asleep and end this. I slept in the same clothes I was wearing - a baggy tee shirt and jean shorts. After lying there for a minute trying to figure out all the different ways I was uncomfortable, I remembered I was wearing a bra under all this, so once I got that off (it took some doing) I actually slept good that night, but I felt weird and achey in the morning.

I was pulled out of my rest at about 7:30 by Jessa's mom sticking her head in the door and demanding I get downstairs for 8. It took me a minute to realize I was still here. I had pinned my hopes on waking up in the right place.

I would have preferred to just go as I was, in the same clothes as I wore the day before but I felt extremely dingy in them. So off came the top and shorts. Looking down at the sight of this person... it was as unglamorous, unsexy of a view as I've ever seen. It's just a body. Imperfect and squishy. Very different from mine. I had this distinct, gross feeling I was seeing something I shouldn't be by looking this much.

I used the same bra, figuring... out of everything, what difference did that make? I cringed when I realized I would have to put on a fresh pair of underwear but honestly the alternatives seemed way worse. At least there was a good supply of clean ones in her drawer. Considering I have never worn panties before, I guess the options weren't too bad - modest, functional, basic fabrics. It's weird to me how light and thin they are and tightly they hug the body, but, um... I guess it's right for her. Or me now. I did all of this without looking down again. I figured if I had to look later I would but if I can avoid it, I will.

I rolled on some deodorant, dressed myself in as unflattering of clothes as I could find within a few moments of searching, and went along for the ride on my second day. I was starting to realize this arrangement might be permanent.