As Sam’s car pulled up to Jesse’s house, the familiar sight of the driveway and front door felt strangely foreign to him. In the fading daylight, everything looked the same, yet Jesse couldn’t shake the feeling that even his house had become part of this bizarre, unfamiliar world.
The car came to a stop, and the pop song faded out, leaving only the soft hum of the engine. Sam turned to Jesse, still with that look of concern in his eyes.
"Well, here we are." Sam said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You good to go in?”
Jesse didn’t respond right away. He stared out the window, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him—the strangeness of the day, the unspoken confusion that had been gnawing at him since the moment he’d woken up in this twisted version of his life. He couldn’t keep pretending anymore.
“Sam.” he said quietly, still looking out the window.
“Yeah?”
Jesse swallowed hard, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. He could feel the fear creeping up, the fear that saying it out loud would make it real, that Sam would think he was crazy. But he had to tell someone. He couldn’t do this alone.
“I need to tell you something.” Jesse finally said, turning to face Sam. His voice was shaky, but he forced himself to keep going. “I… I’m not who you think I am.”
Sam blinked, his smile fading into a confused frown. “What do you mean? Of course you are, Jess. You’re you.”
Jesse shook his head, the words coming out in a rush now. “No, I mean… I wasn’t this person. I don’t know how to explain it, but I woke up today and everything’s… wrong. This life—it isn’t mine. I’m not supposed to be a cheerleader, I’m supposed to be a football player. I don’t wear… these clothes. I don’t listen to girlband music. None of this is me.”
Sam stared at him, his brows furrowed, clearly trying to process what Jesse was saying. “Wait… what are you talking about? You’ve been on the cheer team for two years, Jess. You’re not making any sense.”
Jesse felt a wave of panic rising in his chest. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I swear, something happened. Yesterday, everything was normal—I was on the football team, I wasn't a cheerleader or this, my life was completely different. But today… I woke up in this body, in this world, and everyone just acts like it’s normal. Like this is the way things have always been.”
Sam was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Jesse’s heart pounded in his chest, waiting for the reaction—would Sam think he was crazy? Would he laugh it off, or worse, get angry?
Finally, Sam let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Jess… I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’ve known you for years. You’ve always been like this. Are you sure you’re not just… having a bad day or something? Maybe you’re stressed out?”
Jesse shook his head vehemently. “No, Sam, this is real. I don’t even know who half the people are in this version of my life. I keep seeing people I’m supposed to know, but I don’t.”
Sam bit his lip, his eyes searching Jesse’s face. “That’s… a lot, Jess. I mean, it sounds like a dream or something. Maybe you hit your head or… I don’t know. This is just… a lot.”
Jesse felt a pang of frustration. He’d expected Sam to be confused, but part of him had hoped that saying it out loud would make things click into place. That somehow, Sam would believe him, that there’d be some clue or solution he hadn’t seen before. But the doubt in Sam’s voice felt like a punch to the gut.
“I know it sounds crazy.” Jesse said, his voice breaking slightly. “But I swear, Sam, I’m telling the truth. This isn’t my life.”
Sam leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. “Okay… let’s say you’re right. Let’s say something really weird is going on. What are you gonna do about it?”
Jesse hadn’t thought that far ahead. His mind had been so focused on surviving the day, on trying to act normal, that he hadn’t even considered what came next.
“I don’t know.” he admitted, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know how this happened in the first place.”
Sam was quiet for a moment, then he turned off the car engine and shifted in his seat to face Jesse fully. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but if you really think something’s wrong… we’ll figure it out. Okay? You’re not alone in this.”
Jesse blinked, taken aback by the sudden softness in Sam’s voice. “You believe me?”
“I believe that you believe it.” Sam said carefully. “And that’s enough for me. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not gonna leave you hanging. We’ll figure this out together.”
Jesse felt a rush of gratitude, though the confusion and fear still lingered in the back of his mind. Sam didn’t fully understand, but he wasn’t abandoning him either. That was more than Jesse could have hoped for.
“Thanks, Sam.” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Sam smiled, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. “No problem. Now, come on, let’s get you inside before your mom freaks out.”
Jesse nodded, feeling a small weight lift off his shoulders as they both stepped out of the car and headed toward the front door.
As Jesse stepped into the house, his heart pounded in his chest. Everything about this day had been one bizarre twist after another, but the moment he crossed the threshold, he realized that home—the one place he thought might offer some comfort—had changed in ways he couldn’t have prepared for.
"Jess, that you?" came his mom’s voice from the living room.
Jesse froze at the sound. It wasn’t her usual voice—softer, more feminine—but something deeper, rougher, almost gruff. He swallowed hard and forced himself to walk toward the sound.
As he turned the corner, he was greeted by the sight of his mom lounging on the couch, watching TV. Only, she didn’t look like his mom. She was bulkier, with broader shoulders, and a beard covered her once clean-shaven face. Her hair was buzzed short, just a faint shadow of what had once been shoulder-length waves. She glanced over at him, her eyes soft but with an air of casual indifference.
"How was school, kiddo?" she asked, giving him a nod.
Jesse’s throat tightened. He managed to croak out a “Good.” though nothing felt remotely close to good.
He quickly moved past the living room, trying to keep his composure as he headed to the kitchen. But when he stepped inside, the surreal nature of his world hit him like a freight train. His dad stood by the stove, stirring a pot, but he wasn’t the man Jesse remembered. This version of his dad was shorter, slender, with long hair that mirrored Jesse’s current appearance. His dad’s outfit—a floral blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans—would have seemed absurd in the old world, but here it was just another layer of this strange new reality.
At the kitchen table sat his little brother, happily coloring in a book with bright markers, his small legs swinging back and forth. The seven-year-old looked like a younger version of the "new" Jesse—long hair, feminine features, and dressed in bright pink leggings with a unicorn t-shirt.
“Hey, sweetheart!” his dad called from the stove. “Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. How was practice?”
Jesse blinked, his mouth dry. “Uh… it was fine.” He could barely force the words out, his brain spinning. His dad smiled, wiping his hands on a towel.
“That’s good. You must be starving after all that hard work.” his dad said, his tone so cheerful it made Jesse’s stomach twist. “I’m making spaghetti with garlic bread.”
Jesse’s eyes darted around the room. Everything was wrong. His dad’s feminine mannerisms, the lightness in his voice, the way his younger brother was obliviously humming while coloring in his girlish outfit—it was too much. Jesse forced a smile and nodded.
“That sounds… great.”
Sam lingered near the door, clearly feeling awkward. He had been about to head out, thinking Jesse would be fine once inside, but Jesse wasn’t ready to be left alone in this world.
“Jess? You okay?” Sam’s voice snapped him back to the moment. Jesse realized he had frozen in the doorway, still staring at his family.
“Yeah.” Jesse mumbled, but his voice lacked conviction. “Yeah, I’m… I just… can you stay?” His voice cracked a little, the request coming out more desperate than he intended. “We can hang out in my room.”
Sam hesitated, clearly thrown off by Jesse’s reaction, but nodded slowly. “Uh, sure. Yeah, I’ll stay.”
Jesse exhaled in relief, his pulse still racing. He couldn’t handle being alone right now, not with everything feeling so overwhelmingly wrong.
“Alright, well, you two go relax. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” his dad said, offering them both a smile before turning back to the stove.
Jesse gave a hurried nod and led Sam toward the stairs, his heart racing. When they reached his bedroom door, he hesitated for a moment, not sure what he was about to see. But when he pushed the door open, his stomach sank even further. His room, which had once been filled with football posters and sports gear, now looked like something out of a teenage girl’s dream.
The walls were painted a soft pink, decorated with posters of pop stars, girl bands, and framed cheerleading awards. A vanity, cluttered with makeup and beauty products, stood against one wall, a large mirror reflecting his shell-shocked expression. The bedspread, once covered in a sports-themed pattern, was now a pastel floral design, complete with fluffy pillows.
"This... this isn’t right." Jesse muttered, stepping inside. His heart pounded as he took in the unfamiliar decorations, the overall femininity of the space. “My room never looked like this.”
Sam followed behind him, his eyes calm as if everything were normal. “Dude, what’re you talking about? It’s looked like this forever. You’ve always had that vanity, and we used to sit on this bed and listen to music like... all the time.”
Jesse shook his head, feeling like the floor was moving under him. “No, it didn’t. It was different. I had football posters and my weights over there,” he pointed to where the vanity now stood, “and there was a—”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. His mind felt jumbled, unable to reconcile the memories he was trying to recall with the reality in front of him. Overwhelmed, Jesse threw himself face-first onto the bed, burying his face in the soft pillows. The scent of lavender wafted up, unfamiliar and strangely soothing, but it only made him want to cry. He clenched his fists in the blankets, his body tense, willing the tears not to come but feeling the lump in his throat growing larger.
Sam watched for a moment, a worried expression crossing his face. He lay down beside Jesse, staring at the ceiling. "Hey, it’s okay. I know things have been weird, but it’s still you and me, right? Just us."
Jesse didn’t respond. He felt like his world was unraveling. He wanted to scream, cry, anything to release the frustration inside, but instead he stayed silent, his face pressed into the pillows. The soft bed that might have been comforting any other day now felt like a reminder of everything that had changed.
Sensing that Jesse needed a distraction, Sam pulled out his phone. “You know what? Maybe this’ll help. I’ve got a bunch of old pictures of us. Maybe they’ll jog your memory.”
He unlocked his phone and started scrolling through the photo gallery. “Look, here’s us at that sleepover last summer. You tried to make brownies, but they ended up like... total mush.”
Jesse lifted his head slightly, just enough to glance at the screen. The image showed him and Sam in a kitchen, both laughing hysterically, covered in flour. Jesse was wearing a cute apron, and his hair was tied up in a high ponytail. He barely recognized himself, but Sam seemed so at ease with it all, as if it had always been this way.
“And this one’s from that road trip we took with my parents.” Sam continued, showing a picture of the two of them at a gas station, sharing some iced drinks and posing in front of the car. Jesse was wearing a tank top, his nails painted a soft pink, and sunglasses perched on top of his head. Again, the version of himself in the photo didn’t match the one in his mind.
Sam kept scrolling through, showing him more pictures—at the beach, hanging out at the mall, trying on clothes at some store. Every single image showed a version of Jesse that was so different from who he thought he was. But in all of them, he and Sam were laughing, smiling, always close, as if nothing in the world had ever been wrong.
"See?" Sam said softly. "You’ve always been like this. We’ve always had fun, no matter what."
Jesse’s chest tightened as he stared at the images. How could this be real? How could all of these memories exist, showing a version of him that he had no recollection of? He wasn’t the boy in those photos—not the way he remembered. But the warmth in Sam’s voice, the way he spoke like everything had been normal between them, made Jesse question even his own memories.
“I don’t understand…” Jesse whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
Sam nudged him gently. “You’re not. I mean, yeah, you’ve been acting kinda off today, but I know you. You’re still my best friend, okay? No matter what weird stuff’s going on in your head right now, I’m here.”
Jesse buried his face in the pillows again, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and confusion. Sam didn’t understand, but at least he wasn’t leaving him alone to deal with it. Even though nothing made sense anymore, at least there was that one small comfort—that Sam was still here, just like always.
Sam lay beside him quietly for a while, letting Jesse soak in the silence. And even though everything around him had shifted, even though Jesse didn’t know how to live in this new world, there was a small, fleeting sense of stability in that moment. He just hoped it would be enough to get him through whatever was coming next.