Tommy’s head throbbed as he stirred, the faint light filtering into the room casting shadows over unfamiliar walls. He blinked groggily, his body feeling… off. It was subtle at first, just a weight in the wrong places, a strangeness in how his limbs moved. Groaning, he pushed himself up—and froze.
His hands weren’t his own.
Slender fingers, almost delicate, stared back at him as he flexed them in disbelief. Panic surged through him as he scrambled to his feet, the movement sending something—*several somethings*—bouncing on his chest. His breath hitched as he looked down, his heart hammering so loudly it drowned out every other thought.
This wasn’t his body.
His mind reeled as he bolted to the mirror, tripping over a baseball cap lying on the floor. He grabbed at the glass, staring into it as if the reflection might make some kind of sense. Staring back at him wasn’t himself but *Sally*—her messy hair, her wiry frame, her unmistakably *her* features.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no!” Tommy cried, his voice higher, sharper—her voice. He stumbled back, his breathing ragged. “This can’t be happening. This *can’t* be happening.”
A groan behind him made him whirl around, his heart pounding as he watched his own body—the *real* him—stirring on the floor. His—no, Sally’s—eyes widened as he watched *himself* blink awake.
“Ugh, what happened?” His—no, her—voice grumbled, deep and groggy. Sally—or what had to be Sally in his body—rubbed her face before stopping mid-motion. Her eyes shot open, staring at the unfamiliar hands in front of her.
“What the—” she started, looking down at herself—or rather, *himself*. Her gaze darted to Tommy, standing in her body, pale and trembling. “Tommy? Is that you?”
Tommy took a step back, his hands shaking. “Sally? Oh my god, what is going on?!”
Sally scrambled to her feet, wobbling slightly as she adjusted to the new height and weight. “I… I don’t know! Why do I sound like—wait.” She looked at him—her old body—again, then down at herself. Realization dawned, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. “Oh my god. Oh my *god*. Did we…? Are we in each other’s bodies?”
Tommy’s voice broke as he shouted, “This is a nightmare! We need to fix this, right now!”
“Yeah, no kidding!” Sally snapped, pacing the room. She looked down at herself again, flexing her hands, then her arms, the muscles moving beneath the skin. “I mean… this is insane. How did this even—” She stopped mid-sentence, her expression changing from panic to something quieter. She touched her arms again, almost experimentally.
“What are you doing?” Tommy demanded, his voice trembling as he gestured wildly at himself. “This isn’t time to admire my—your—body! We need to figure out how to switch back!”
“I know, I know,” Sally muttered, but her voice was distracted. She turned to the mirror, staring at her reflection—his reflection. “It’s just… I’ve never felt anything like this.” Her hand went to her chest, tapping lightly against the muscles. “I’m… taller. Stronger. It feels… good.”
Tommy gawked at her. “*Good?* Are you serious? I’m stuck in *your* body, Sally! Do you know how—how weird this feels?” He gestured frantically at himself. “I can feel… everything moving wrong. And my *voice*—your voice—it’s just—augh!”
Sally turned to him, guilt flashing across her face. “I know, okay? I get it.” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck—his neck—and looking at him carefully. “Tommy, I swear, I didn’t ask for this to happen. I’m just trying to—” She hesitated, her voice softening. “It’s just… I’ve always wondered what it would be like, you know? To be a boy. I’ve *wanted* this.”
Tommy’s expression hardened. “Well, congratulations. You’re living the dream while I’m stuck in a nightmare.”
Sally winced, taking a step closer to him. “Hey, that’s not fair. I didn’t do this on purpose.”
“Yeah, but you don’t seem in a hurry to change back!” Tommy shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. He crossed his arms awkwardly, glaring at her. “You’re just happy you get to be me.”
Sally sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Look, I’m not saying I’m thrilled you’re stuck in my body. That sucks, and I’m sorry. Really. But… yeah, okay, I’m not gonna lie. Being in your body feels… right. It feels *good*. And yeah, I’m scared that if we fix this, I’ll lose that.”
Tommy stared at her, his frustration ebbing just slightly as he saw the honesty in her face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Sally nodded, her expression conflicted. “Yeah. But I’m not heartless, okay? I don’t want you stuck like this. I promise, if we figure out how to fix it, I’ll switch back. No question.”
Tommy let out a long, shaky breath, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. “Okay. Fine. But until then, what the hell are we supposed to do?”
Sally hesitated, then a sly grin tugged at her lips. “We pretend. You’re me, and I’m you.”
“What?!” Tommy’s voice shot up an octave. “There’s no way I can pretend to be you! You’re—well, you!”
“Exactly. And you’re me now,” Sally said, her tone firm. “Look, no one can know about this. It’ll freak everyone out. So, until we figure it out, we act like everything’s normal. You’ve just gotta survive being me for a while.”
Tommy groaned, dragging a hand down his—her—face. “This is the worst day of my life.”
Sally chuckled, stepping past him to the door. “Yeah, well, it’s not a picnic for me either, sis.”
“Don’t call me that,” Tommy snapped, glaring at her.
Sally smirked, opening the door. “Alright, fine. Goodnight, Tom.”
“Wait,” Tommy said, his voice uncertain. “You’re… okay with this? Really?”
Sally turned back, her expression softening. “No. I’m not okay with you being miserable. But... yeah, I’m okay with this for now. Just until we fix it. Now go get some sleep. My room’s yours for the night.”
Before Tommy could protest, she nudged him out of the room and closed the door behind him. Standing alone in the hallway, he let out a heavy sigh. His new, unfamiliar reflection glimmered faintly in the darkened window at the end of the hall, and for the first time that night, he felt the weight of it all.
“I guess I don’t have a choice,” he muttered to himself, trudging toward what was now his room for the night.