They say Emily, Emily, Emily and we fade to a marvelous view
The lover then is said to be transformed into the beloved object because what he does while united with the object must be in accord with its nature; for if he did not act in accord with it but acted against it, he would not remain in union with it.
Prentice, Robert P. (1957). The Psychology of Love According to St. Bonaventure. The Franciscan Institute.
Jacob gripped the cuprous ring of tarnished, green metal and dreamed of a different world: one where he'd made better choices. One where he'd found courage
happiness
confidence. One where, maybe he was somebody a lot less like himself. One where, maybe he was somebody more like Emily Johnson?
There was no great flash of light. There was no great puff of smoke. There was no tucket of trumpets, no fanfare of horns, no flourish to herald the supernatural event about to occur.
Instead, Jacob simply found himself suddenly
looking at himself.
His own body.
His chubby, greasy-haired, pockmarked male body.
Oh
my
god! he wheezed.
Only his voice wasn't his own. It was light, airy, sweet not quite like Emily's, but
maybe the ever-so-slightly muffled sound her own voice would make reverberating through her own skull.
His skull.
I'm Emily! he whispered.
Jacob's former body stared back in silent wonder. Neither spoke for what seemed an eternity of nervous blinks and the rapid staccato of drumming heartbeats pounding in both their ears.
Jay
is that you? said Jacob's own body, voice again cracking from stress.
Yes, answered Jacob, the words coming from lips painted pink with shiny lip gloss. Lips he'd long dreamed of kissing, but cravenly had never worked up the courage to approach. Now these soft, sweet lips he'd adored from afar moved at Jacob's will, speaking his words but with the mouth
the tongue
the voice of his beloved.
I think your sister's magic doughnut made me into you, he said.
Nervously, Jacob finally managed to sneak a glance down at his new, feminine form. His thin arms were wrapped in the same soft, green fabric of a crop top that now hugged his modest yet perky breasts. Beneath his shirt, Jacob found he was now dimly aware of the binding, slightly itchy sensation of a lacy, underwire bra supporting his newly acquired mammaries. Emily's short, black skirt floated breezily about his upper legs. If not for the thick black tights ensheathing Jacob's legs, he would have shivered from the alien sensation of being so exposed down below. His feet, now clad in tiny black, leather ankle boots, seemed so small
so petite
yet still so cute. Was it wrong to still be so in love with Emily, even now that he was Emily?
We should probably switch back, he finally said, surprising himself with the hint of regret evident in his tone of voice.
He didn't really want to stay like this, did he?
Fortunately, Emily didn't seem to catch the unspoken afterthought.
How do we do that? I don't think we have any idea how this this thing works, she asked, pitching Jacob's former voice a bit too high. It wasn't quite a falsetto, but it was distinctively androgynous sounding now, in a way that gave Jacob the creeps. Did you do anything weird to activate this thing?
She turned over the discolored ring of badly oxidized metal in her now fat, greasy, masculine hands.
I didn't do anything, Jacob protested. He wondered silently if he ought to confess to having made a wish
but no. He hadn't literally wished to swap bodies with Emily! This wasn't his fault. There'd just been a passing, idle thought that flashed through his head prior to this nothing but a moment's velleity. He wasn't to blame. He hadn't actually done anything.
I wish we'd change back, Emily said, addressing the bronze doughnut. Hello? Are you listening? Whoever or whatever you are: please change Jay and I back to normal. We want to be ourselves again. Please switch our bodies back around again. Hmm
this seems too much coincidence for this goofy trinket to not be behind all this. But I don't see how we can use it to change back.
Part of Jacob sighed with secret relief. But was it fear of his idle wish being found out or fear of having to go back to being a greasy-faced, overweight, loser.
You'll have to go on my date with Michael, said Emily glumly.
Wh- Wh- What?! shrieked Jacob, his throat tightening with sudden fear and anxiety.
He'll be here any minute, Emily explained. I really like him, too. Madison was so right to set us up. Michael and I have so much in common, and
well, it's hard to explain. But I can't go canceling a date with him. He'll think I hate him or something. Please, Jay: just go out with him. It's just dinner and a movie. I got all dressed up for this, and
it's important to me. I don't want to mess things up with Michael. Will you just do this for me? Go out, be with him, and pretend you're me. Then, after he brings you home, we can talk things over together and figure out a way of changing back. Maybe Kaitlyn knows more about this stupid metal bracelet and can help us change back. But for now, you'll have to pretend to be me and I'll be you. Please, Jay? I know I've always been able to depend on you. I can count on you again this time, can't I?