You don't have to try so hard
You don't have to, give it all away
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don't have to change a single thing …
“Do not strive to be perfect. Strive to be perfectly imperfect.”
Margria, Imania. (2016). Secrets of My Heart. Lulu Press, Inc.
__________
“Alright, Madison,” came the perfect voice of sweet, sweet Emil. “Stay safe!”
Jacob hung up the phone, then stuffed it back into Madison's purse.
And then the world crashed in on him.
“What's happening to me?” he sobbed, suddenly looking up in horror at the innocent, doll-like face in the mirror.
“M-M-My name is Madison … No!” he shrieked, abruptly shifting from a paralysis of fear to a shuddering spasm of horror.
I know my name is Jacob, he thought silently.
Lifting his gaze, he saw the visage of Madison Davis, now marred by runny streaks of Mascara rivulets. Her normally bubbly features were contorted into an expression of anguish.
“I … know … my … name is Madison, and I'm a fifteen-year old girl, and Emily's my best friend, and I set her up on a date with that totally hot guy Michael, he's in my geography class, and if only I weren't so secretly shy I'd have asked him out myself, but girls shouldn't ask out guys, my mom would totally not approve of that, so I just set up my friends with boys that I secretly like and … and … and … god, I'm messed up!” Jacob said to the mirror.
Why was he saying aloud all the things Madison would have been thinking?
Jacob felt a guilty rush of embarrassment at suddenly being privy to all the secret confessions and hidden emotions of Madison Davis.
“But I'm the real Madison Davis!” he insisted to the mirror.
No!
That's not what he was thinking. That's definitely not what he wanted to say!
That stupid doughnut of doom from Kaitlyn's daydreams had really messed things up. Now Jacob was not only trapped in the body of Emily's best friend, but he was also suddenly unable to properly vocalize his true thoughts, intentions, and feelings.
Every time he opened his mouth, the emotional gushing of Madison poured out from these tiny, baby pink lips of hers.
“I like this color of lip gloss,” he said.
He hated it.
“Lots of girls online are wearing it,” he said to the mirror. “I've seen them on pintrest, snapchat, and facebook. I want to be cute and happy by looking and acting and dressing like them.”
Jacob wasn't going to win this one.
His mind was still his own – but his body was now that of a fifteen-year old girl, and that meant he physically possessed her brain. Her nerve cells, ganglia, synapses, and all the electro-chemical minutia that went into encoding memories were now that of an adolescent girl. His mental software was running on her hardware, and the past owner's settings, preferences, and saved files were all still very much present.
“I am Madison Davis,” he said.
And as he said the words, he remembered his first day of kindergarten: the pretty, pink dress and matching frilly ankle socks he'd worn! He was such an innocent, sweet, girl back then. And what about the first day of middle school? D'oh! Oh, that was a fashion nightmare. Growing up is hard for a girl. He'd worn a silly polka-dot blouse with a black watch tartan miniskirt and a pair of argyle over-the-knee socks. Yarg! What was he thinking back then? Yeesh. He'd rather forget that memory. So okay then … how about his first kiss? That was eighth grade: Bobby Richards. They'd gone to the big autumn dance together. Jacob didn't really like Bobby, but he was polite enough. And Jacob was too insecure of a girl to say no. The kiss was nice. But Jacob wished it had been with another guy – maybe Craig Walker or Kevin Larkin? Gosh, he still got butterflies in his stomach thinking about those two, even today.
“I … am … Madison!” Jacob insisted again, through firmly gritted teeth.
His new body's nervous system refused to allow him to properly articulate his thought.
There's only one thing to do, sighed Jacob internally. It was Kaitlyn's crazy nightmares about a copper ring of infinite power that was ultimately responsible for all this. Her nutty, bronze armband version of the “Gauntlet of Infinity” was logically his only way out of this bizarre dilemma. It was the only choice.
“I … have to … I have to … I have to dress more provocatively, and then maybe Craig or Kevin would like me? Gosh, I'm such a lonesome girl. I look so pretty, but I hate not having a boyfriend!”
Shaking his head vigorously from side to side, Jacob ignored the words pouring from his lip and decided to take firm action.
What do you do now?
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