Page 165 of Switch!
“I tried!”
“Then you should have raised a stink until I heard what you were trying to say. I feel terrible, honey. Absolutely dreadful. If I would have listened, all this trouble could have been avoided.”
Caleb would still be alive and making other people miserable, no doubt. I could make my peace with that. Karma would have caught up with him eventually. Patrick might not have survived, though, and I wouldn’t have met Trixie. I’d go through it all again, just for them. But if I didn’t have these powers, I doubt running away would have solved my problems. I should have told anyone who would listen, because it’s not okay what Raymond was trying to do.
We talk about it longer before moving on to other topics. I make sure to savor every moment spent with my mother, knowing I won’t be able to stay. The body I’m wearing now is only a rental, and I fully intend to return it to the original owner.
— — —
I’m standing in front of the door to Patrick’s apartment while praying that I guessed right. I can’t think of a more likely place to find Trixie. The rent is still paid through the next week, and we did promise to mail some of his possessions back to him. The rest he said we could keep, sell, or give away.
I look around before I knock to make sure the police aren’t around. I don’t see a squad car or anyone in plain clothes attempting to appear casual. I shouldn’t be surprised. I had my interview with the Cheyenne Police Department. Thank goodness this body can act. I put on a performance worthy of Trixie, painting a picture of a desperate girl who fell in love with a guy she met online. Travis was equally lonely and they hit it off right away, which isn’t so far from the truth.
A lock clicks. Then the knob turns and the door in front of me moves inward, but only a crack.
“Are you alone?” a voice whispers.
“Uh.” I look around again. “Yup.”
“Twitch?”
I laugh and respond with, “Switch.”
The door flies open and I have the very odd sensation of meeting myself.
“What have you done with my hair?” Trixie demands.
“My mom thought it would look cute braided,” I say. “She always wanted a daughter, as it turns out. The whole vibe was getting really weird before I left.”
“Let me take a closer look,” Trixie says, grabbing my arm and dragging me inside where she can inspect me openly. I barely manage to shut the door behind us. “Three braids?” she asks.
“Yup! Gismonda style!”
Trixie laughs. “I like the idea, but I’m going back to pigtails as soon as I can.”
“Speaking of changes,” I say, “I like the new glasses.”
“Thanks! I thought you could use a more stylish pair, and the old ones were broken anyway. You really like them?”
“Yeah!”
“Good, because we have some busking to do. When I’m back in my old body and can play the violin again. Your body doesn’t have the muscle memory I need, so Jesse loaned me the money.”
“Is he okay?”
She nods and leads me deeper into the apartment, which is looking bright and airy. Trixie has made herself at home while I’ve been gone. She leads me to the couch, where we settle down.
“Jesse was just here the other day,” she says. “That felt like a risk, but I don’t think anyone is really looking for you. Not across state lines. At the end of the day, all they think you did was beat up a child molester.”
“And break out of jail afterwards,” I say wryly.
Trixie shrugs. “Nobody is perfect. Anyway, Jesse will be fine. He’s not such a bad actor himself. He told the police that he was worried about me traveling so far to meet someone who was in juvenile hall, and well, you know his vibe. He’s a sweet guy. I don’t think anyone suspected him for long.”
“If he gets into trouble, we’ll get him out of it. I owe him that much.”
“What would you do exactly?”
“I don’t know. The usual. Possess people and manipulate events until he’s in the clear again.”
