Back in Kaitlyn's room, Emily shut the door and shucked off the towel she'd wrapped around her torso. Standing in front of the dresser, she gazed down at her naked flesh, but didn't open any of the drawers. Instead, she studied her breasts buds and the young pubescent body she'd been forced to inhabit, thinking. There was something off about Jacob, she was sure of it, an almost feminine intuition whispering to her that it was so.
"But what?" she asked herself.
Her hand slowly dropping away from the knob on the top drawer, she turned away from the dresser and headed across her sister's bedroom. Reaching the closet, she opened the door and stared into the mirror that had been hung on the back of the door. Up until last night, it had probably never been used, as it had been covered with stuff Emily could not even begin to identify. Now, staring at her reflection, she studied how thin Kaitlyn was, how her breasts were still only buds, the fact that she still didn't have any body hair and, when her gaze drifted to her sister's laundry basket, which was now empty, how she'd found underwear that had been stained with tiny dots of dried blood. Comparing that with what she had seen, Emily thought about the hair that now covered her crotch, her breasts and how they swelled out and looked perky even without a bra and how, unlike her sister, she didn't have dots of blood in her panties, and then she shivered.
It wasn't so much from being chilled, but rather how weird she found it to be staring at her fifteen-year-old body, watching as it moved and talked and did stuff she normally did, all without her giving the commands for it to do such stuff. Whispering, "What aren't you telling me, Jacob," Emily found herself returning to her original thoughts. Certain Jacob was troubled by something, she tried to reason it was simply because he had been forced into the body of a girl and was having trouble adjusting.
But, unable to fully believe this, she eventually shook her head and turned away from the mirror. Gazing about her sister's bedroom, not really seeing anything, she slowly drifted back to the dresser. Her thoughts skipping through all that she'd seen, heard and everything she felt, Emily considered how she was certain Jacob had stated Kaitlyn was his sister, that she could have sworn he addressed her mom as his mother, the way he seemed so girly when relaxed, the way he had seemed so much like her when she started getting upset and emotional about something when the subject of them being stuck the way they were came up and how he had spoken last night when talking about enjoying the date with Michael.
"He practically gushed when he said that he and Michael had kissed," Emily noted as she opened the top drawer and began searching through her sister's underwear, searching for a pair that wasn't too badly stained.
Concerned, she pulled on a pair of Kaitlyn's panties, selected one of her sister's training bras and shut the drawer. Going through the rest of the dresser, Emily wondered if maybe Jacob was somehow losing himself by being in her body, but then decided this didn't seem accurate. Thinking about all that happened since she'd been swapped bodies with Jacob, then had had that body hijacked by her bratty sister, Emily found it a titbit dubious that someone could lose who they were.
"After all. I'm not losing myself. I know I am not Kaitlyn Johnson. I'm Emily Johnson, fifteen-years-old, best friend to Madison and supposed be dating Michael," she reasoned aloud as she selected a cotton skirt she was sure she'd never seen Kaitlyn in, a short sleeve shirt to go with it and a pair of ankle socks, all while mentally going over everything that proved she was Emily.
Satisfied with what she proclaimed and thought, Emily dressed then started across the bedroom, but stopped a foot or so from the door. Looking around the bedroom, which really didn't look like her sister's room anymore, she found herself doubting that Jacob wasn't losing himself. Slowly working through the problem, she eventually asked, "Do you think you're Emily? Or Jacob"
The room not answering, she tapped her foot in agitation, cocked her head, frowned and tried to sort out if this was what was actually bothering her. Slowly, she reasoned aloud, "He doesn't understand how and why to bathe his female body. But he enjoyed dating Michael. He doesn't understand make-up, how to remove it and why it's important to clean at least my face before bed. Yet, he called my mother mom and I am certain he called Kaitlyn his sister," before lapsing into silence as her mind played a mental tug-o-war with itself, flip-flopping back and forth between the possibility that Jacob was somehow losing parts of himself to such a notion being ridiculous, with the strongest evidence that pointed to it being that she, Emily, wasn't losing herself to her bratty sister's life.
Question after question began to plague her before, frustrated, Emily huffed in agitation. Wanting to stop her foot and act in a petulant manner, she resisted the urge and instead exited her sister's room. Heading for the bathroom to find a comb or brush to run through her sister's shoulder-length ginger hair, Emily glanced briefly at her room. Thinking, "I'll just have to keep an eye on him as best as I can," she tried not to let the questions overwhelm her as she entered the bathroom and began her search for something to run through Kaitlyn's hair, which she sighed and thought, for the moment, it was hers.