You stand indecisively in front of your bed and the assortment of condoms. You want to get this right, but... how? You really aren't certain that one the right size would make you, well, YOU. Then again, there is the problem you really don't know which one IS your old size! When this realization hits you, you feel like your heart skips a beat. Are you forgetting your old self, or was it that you just hadn't paid close enough attention??
You start to reach for a yellow condom, guessing it would be just about right..., then start to wonder if yellow might mean something like "Chinese." But, the one you put on was blue..., and you aren't that color, right? Maybe blue indicated something else, but what? "Boy?" But all condoms are for boys! Well, men, actually...
Shaking your head, you wonder at how easily you seem to be distracted. Maybe it has to do with your current age.
You start reaching for the yellow one again, then realize that the clear colored, "Super Sensitive" one seems to be the same size. Maybe you would enjoy..., well, you know, more... You blush at what you are contemplating.
"KIDS! Dinner is ready!" mom shouts. You don't notice right away that you are thinking of her as your mother...
"Coming!" you shout back, and throw a blanket over your collection. You promise yourself that you will make a decision right after supper.
On the stairs down, you think that there is no way these people could not have noticed you suddenly being added to their family. They've GOT to know something! After all, you know that you didn't used to be "Scott", that you must have more or less appeared from nowhere! Or... did you replace someone in their family? And now someone else, this "Scott" is you? You almost stop on the last step when that thought strikes you. Maybe you should try calling your old number...
The smell of freshly cooked food hits you, and your stomach growls.
"It sounds like somebody is ready to eat!" an adult male's voice says. Your dad. You must not have heard him come home. He's already sitting at the table, top buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned, tie removed. You look at him suspiciously while taking a seat, trying to find any sign that he knows about what has happened to you.
Instead, he is talking to Mark. Mark seems to be trying to convince your father that lacrosse will be the next big sport, that someone has almost GOT to start up national leagues or something. It takes you a moment to realize that your father is humoring your brother, and isn't really interested in the conversation. As an adult, you should have picked up on it right away.
Your mom sets some sort of casserole on the table and takes the remaining seat. Food is served, and you decide it is time to start trying to subtly ask questions. You try to think of what to say first.
"So, did anything weird happen today?" you find yourself asking. Huh? That's about as subtle as..., well, it isn't subtle at all!.
Everyone looks at you.
"What do you mean?" asks your father, curiously. Well, it got him out of the lacrosse conversation, anyway... "Did something odd happen at school today?"
"Well, uh, no," you stammer, squirming a bit. "I mean, did you notice anything different?"
Now your mother looks worried.
"You didn't lose another rocket into your father's tool shed again, did you?" she asks, more than a little sternly. "You know we told you not to launch them in the yard any more. You could have caused a serious fire, you know."
"Wait, did you weed the flower garden without being asked?" your father suggests. "I've been meaning to ask you to do that all week."
You hesitate briefly, then realize that, no, you didn't weed the garden..., but you now will have to. You shake your head.
"No, I didn't DO anything!" you insist, turning red. You glance at your brother, and he looks unusually worried. Then you remember that he took a beer out of the fridge earlier! Oh man! He thinks you are trying to rat him out.
"No, I just thought maybe, I dunno, there might be something, new or..." you trail off as all three of them are staring at you, and it dawns on you that they have no clue what you are talking about! You briefly consider actually ratting out your brother as a way to distract them and almost go for it-- until it occurs to you he outweighs and out-muscles you by a whole lot. You drop your head and start pushing your fork around the casserole, more or less separating the vegetables from the tuna.
"Never mind," you mumble, trying to decide whether to continue to eat or if you aren't hungry anymore. Gaw! You whole family must think you are a freak! How can you possibly recover from such an embarrassing moment?! Why did you act so weird?
Then you recall: you aren't really named Scott! This isn't your family! You've got to do something, or you might lose yourself!
You practically inhale the rest of your dinner in the manner only young teenage males seem to be able to do, then ask to be excused.
Back in your room, you consider your next move.