"...be a senior in high school."
Runt had no visible reaction. I suppose he'd heard so many requests, from the benign to the bizarre, that nothing surprised him any more. Still, he seemed curious. "Why did you choose that?"
"I got to thinking about that yearbook, with all the pictures of me playing sports, having friends...," he grinned, "...fucking everyone I wanted. So much better than what really happened." I rubbed my forehead. "I mean, you put the memories up here, so I can kinda remember my life being like that. But I know they're just implanted. They don't feel real. I want to actually live that!"
"Fair enough," Runt said. "You sure you want to be in high school again? Most people are so relieved to be done with school that they wouldn't choose to go back."
"You said you made me an honor student now. Maybe I'll learn something this time!"
"And if you don't learn it the first time, you'll get a new chance every year."
Oh, right, I thought. That might get kind of boring if I had to stay in high school forever, taking the same classes over and over again, like "Groundhog Day". On the other hand, I could vary my choices every year and have an entirely different experience. Maybe one year I could drop out of sports and hang with the stoners instead. Or I could ask Runt to give me the ability to play guitar and sing, so I could start a band. And if I did fuck up, it wouldn't ruin my reputation forever. I'd just reset and try something new the next year. "All right, let's do it!"
Before I had a chance to change my mind, Runt touched my shoulder. Suddenly, I felt like I'd been sucked into a black hole. For a split second, it was as if I didn't exist, but then a new reality reshaped itself around me. I was no longer in New York, but back home in my high school bedroom, exactly as I remembered it.
Well, not exactly exactly. The layout was the same, but the decor had changed to reflect my new reality. Two whole shelves on the wall were weighted down with medals and trophies I'd won in swimming and track. Posters of Michael Phelps and Tom Daley plastered the walls. No way on earth would I have surrounded myself with pictures of guys in Speedos when I went to high school (the first time, as I now thought of it), but the new me apparently had no hang-up about being attracted to both guys and chicks.
The quality of my belongings also had received an upgrade, no doubt thanks to the trust fund Runt had set up for my lottery winnings. A 70-inch flatscreen hung opposite my king-size bed, and I had the latest, most souped-up video game system. Shit, I even had an Oculus Rift. Not that I needed to waste time playing virtual reality games. My entire life was now a virtual reality.
I checked myself out in the mirror. Since Runt had already made me 19, regressing to 18 hadn't produced any huge changes, although I definitely looked like a handsome kid still growing toward full-fledged adulthood. My red hair now hung down to my shoulders, where it contrasted nicely with the pale yellow polo shirt that was stretched over my athletic frame. In my khaki slacks and deck shoes, I looked like a Hollister model. Heck, for all I knew about this new life of mine, maybe I WAS a Hollister model.
I heard a light knock on my door. "Are you decent?"
Holy shit, I thought. My mom! I'd been living on my own long enough to appreciate my privacy (privacy that had been abruptly shattered when Runt made his appearance in apartment). I hadn't factored in that, of course, I would be sharing a house with my parents again. I looked around for anything embarrassing that I might not want her to see, but new me kept his room obsessively neat. "Come in," I said.
The door swung open, revealing Mom holding a basket of laundry. "Just wondered if you need anything washed." Runt had made it sound like my wish wouldn't change much about anyone else, but Mom's usually brown hair was now as copper-red as mine, with a pale freckled complexion to match.
"Uh, no, I think I'm okay," I said. I hadn't worn any of my new clothes yet, so how could any of them be dirty?
"Okay, sweetie. Just wanted to make sure you look spiffy for the first day of school tomorrow. I'll let you get back to admiring yourself in the mirror," she said with a knowing smile as she closed the door. Crap, parents sure are onto your shit more than you'd like to think they are.
Then again, I thought as I studied my reflection, why wouldn't I be vain if I looked this hot? I just had to make sure I wasn't a total dick about it. Damn, just looking at myself was making me horny. I slipped a hand under my waistband and started to rub my cock.
"Happy?"
I was startled to hear Runt's voice behind me. I spun around and saw him emerging from among the coat hangers, naked as usual. "Sorry, I just thought it was time for me to come out of the closet."
"Have you been in there the whole time? Did my mom see you?"
"No, my boy. I created this wonderful new existence of yours. Why would I shatter that reality by plunking a naked demon in the middle of it all? But don't worry, I'll be around." A bright glow enveloped him, then dissipated into thin air, but I could still hear his voice in my head echoing, "I'll be around... I'll be around..."
I felt a vibration in my pocket and fished out my cellphone -- a nicer and newer model than I'd ever been able to afford. I looked at the screen to see who was calling me. It was...