Page 18 of Switch!
Caleb’s mother stands up. “I have an old quilt you can take. The one Buster used to sleep on.”
Beagle. Annoying dog. Dead.
Charming as always, Caleb. I feel impatient as she goes to get the quilt for me. The emotion isn’t my own. I think it’s nice that she’s willing to help. Caleb isn’t so grateful, it would seem. His emotional reactions make me wonder if he’s experiencing these events as if he’s still in control. Is he having thoughts I can’t hear? I’ve been hoping that he doesn’t remember anything when possessed. If that’s not the case, how does he explain his behavior to himself? Especially when he’s in the process of hiding my unconscious body in the back of his truck. What does he think of that?
“Here you go,” my mother—hismother—says when returning. She holds out a red and white folded quilt.
I take it and kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
She blinks and looks surprised. “You’re very welcome. Drive safe, okay?”
“I will.”
I turn and rush back to the truck. Everything is as I left it. Travis is in the back, his eyes closed and his breathing slow, as if he’s in a deep slumber. Reassured by this, I cover my body with the quilt, trying to leave gaps around my head for ventilation. Then I sit in the passenger seat to check how it appears. I know there’s a body back there, but I doubt anyone else would leap to that conclusion. Unless I fart or something and draw attention to myself. If that happens, I’ll make Caleb take the blame.
Now all I need is to drive to Ashley’s house so I can pick her up. I’ve been there before, but not since freshman year. I don’t have the street memorized. I know she texted the address to Caleb, but where is his phone? I pat myself down again and start to panic. After a frantic search of the truck, I find it in the center console between seats. The phone is locked, but luckily it has facial recognition setup. I scowl at the screen, since it’s Caleb’s default expression, and discover that her address is already programmed into the navigation app. I only have to follow the directions.
Usually when I drive an unfamiliar car, I need to adjust to how it handles, get a feel for how sensitive the brakes are and such, but driving this truck is second nature to me. I can only assume that Caleb has some physical memory that I’m tapping into. I do experience a shock when I see his eyes peering back at me in the rearview mirror, but they soon smile. It’s happening! I’m about to go on a date with Ashley Trussell!
Seven ↔ Chapter
My heart is pounding when we pull into Ashley’s driveway. Caleb feels nervous too. That surprises me. I would have thought he had a lot of experience with women—
Three.
Three what? Dates? Girlfriends? Or people he’s slept with? No idea, although now that I think about it, Ashley is in a league of her own. Caleb might play football, but that doesn’t automatically make him popular. I don’t remember seeing him hang with anyone regularly aside from Dean and Elliot.
I feel a pang of sorrow that isn’t my own. Too bad. If he wanted to keep his friends, Caleb should have found a better hobby than picking on innocent people. Forget about all that. I’m standing in front of Ashley’s door! Everyone in the school knows who she is. And now I’m about to spend an afternoon with her. I’m reaching to ring the bell when the front door swings open. Ashley is standing there in a pair of denim overalls that have been cut into shorts with a pink T-shirt beneath. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, the sunglasses on top of her head ready to be deployed.
The breath catches in my throat. What am I supposed to say?
She smirks. “I was waiting to see if you would sit in the car and honk.”
“Huh?” I manage. Real smooth.
“Like you did to Martha last year when picking her up. Girls talk, you know.”
“Sorry,” I reply. “I was a jerk back then.”
“And now?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Hey, that actuallywassmooth! For me, anyway.
It occurs to me that I have nothing to be nervous about. Any mistakes I make will reflect poorly on Caleb. I won’t have to hide my face in shame on Monday, no matter how bad I bungle this.
I gesture to the truck. “Are you ready to go?”
Ashley sizes me up. “That depends on what you have in mind.”
“Oh. We could get something to eat.”
“I already had lunch. Besides, this isn’t a date.”
“So you keep reminding me,” I say, trying a smile.
Her expression softens.
It’s good to be handsome. “If eating together is too much like a date, I’m guessing a movie is out of the question?”
