"Hey, Ma, where's my workout towel?" shouted Jerome, Jeff's older jock brother. Jeff remembered that he only came home from college to do laundry once a month.
"Jer, it's filthy. I just put it in the wash!"
"But, Ma, I gotta leave. Got a game tonight. I need my workout towel," Jerome whined.
Jeff would have rolled his eyes, if he could've.
"Take one of the hand towels then," his mother shouted.
No! thought Jeff. The Chronivac had a warning that at the end of the duration, if the object was out of it's 5 mile range, the duration would automatically extend. Duration? Oh, fuck, he'd meant to set that for a day or two at most. He hadn't set anything. What was the default on the Chronivac? Did it have one? Was he a hand towel permanently?
Jerome entered the bathroom.
Please, please, pick the other hand towel. Yes. Jerome reached for the towel next to Jeff, and looked at it. Then grabbed Jeff.
"This one looks cleaner," he said draping it across his damp neck. Jeff sighed. He didn't know if the default duration. He figured it had to be a day, week or month. Certainly not a year or permanently? He wasn't sure. Maybe he was supposed to set the default duration? Nah, there had to be one, but whatever it was, he was going to be more than 5 miles away for at least a month, so he was looking at being Jerome's sweat rag for at least a month. He sighed. It could be worse? He just remembered the time his sister got nail polish on a hand towel, and ma threw it away. Wait, dad retrieved it from the trash. Oh, but he took it to work to use as a rag at his auto shop. At least Jerome would bring him home next month, he sighed internally.
Jerome took the hand towel from around his neck, and examined it. He reached into his gym bag. Jeff could see Jerome's jockstrap with his name written in laundry marker on the waistband. And there on the inside waistband of his gym shorts, and the collar of his t-shirt. Oh, no, he wouldn't. He is taking a laundry marker out of a compartment in his bag.
"She won't want it back after I've used it for a month, anyway. I should have a spare workout towel," he muttered as he removed the cap and wrote his name across the smooth band along the bottom of the hand towel. Damn, he hoped it washes off when he changed back. Having his brother's name tattooed on his body would be hard to explain. He wondered where on his body it would end up. He didn't have long to think. The clothes in the gym bag were clean, but the inside of the bag, and the shoes inside still reeked. As luck would have it, he landed in the right shoe. Jerome zipped the bag shut. He felt himself bouncing around, as Jerome loaded Jeff and three bags of laundry into the car for his drive back to college.