Page 77 of Switch!
“Yeah. Anyway, once I release control back to Jesse, we’ll find out how he reacts. Not here though. Speaking of which…” I check my phone. It’s getting late. The sun has already slid beneath the horizon, the clouds magenta. “I should probably get home. Jesse has to work tomorrow, and I don’t want his boyfriend to worry.”
“You’re gay?” Trixie says. A little louder than I would have preferred.
“I am while inside this body,” I say with a nervous chuckle. “Speaking of which, check out the waiter’s hands when he brings the check. They’re super manly, and it freaks me out how much I like them.”
“I love strong hands,” Trixie says wistfully.
“Me too, apparently.”
She laughs. “Can we do this again sometime? I’ll give you my number.”
Trixie pulls out an old phone with a cracked screen. Neon green tape holds the corners together. Or maybe it’s just there for decoration. We exchange numbers, I pay the tab (okay, Jesse does, IOU), and together we walk to where I parked the car.
“Need a ride anywhere?” I ask.
“Which direction are you heading?”
“South,” I say. “I live in Tacoma.”
“Oh.” She looks momentarily crestfallen before perking up. “I live there too, but I took the train to get here. Would you mind?”
“Not at all,” I say, eager to spend more time with her. The day has gone from disappointing to being the most fun I’ve had since… well, since hanging out with Sarah and Eddie. I guess I’ve been lonely while locked away in someone else’s head.
“Can we stop by the station on the way out of town?” She asks. “I left some things in a locker there.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Most people don’t really mean it when they say that.” She smiles at me. “You’re a nice guy, Travis.”
The compliment makes my cheeks flush. “I have my moments.”
This is shaping up to be one of my favorites. I’m glad I won’t be making the drive alone. I only wish I could invite Trixie over to the apartment, because she’s right. I’ve pushed my luck this trip, sharing my story repeatedly with others and even revealing my true name for the second time while in this body. I don’t know how Jesse is going to react when I release control to him, but I’m both eager and nervous to find out.
— — —
The ride back to Tacoma is an adventure in itself. First we stop at King Street Station so Trixie can pick up the belongings she left there, a backpack and a suitcase, which seems weird to me. Then again, I’m starting to realize just how strange she is. We’re only on the highway for five minutes when Trixie starts surfing the car’s radio. As soon as she finds a song she likes, she begins to dance from the waist up. I’m amazed at how much she manages to shake and gyrate despite being buckled up.
After performing solo on the first song, she starts nudging me on the second, trying to get me to join in. I’ve never been much of a dancer. I’ve tried a few moves in the privacy of my bedroom, but I generally end up tripping over my own feet, or once, I managed to thwack myself in the face with an arm. My lack of coordination combined with my need to keep a grip on the steering wheel has me shaking my head.
“Everyone likes to dance,” Trixie says. “It’s just a matter of finding the right song.” She scans the airwaves, looking intently at me and saying, “How about this one? No? This one?”
The bass is really thumping on one of the tracks when I find my head bobbing along. The rhythmic motion soon moves down to my shoulders, and when Trixie notices and shouts an enthusiastic “Yeah! You’re feeling it now!” I let loose, intending to be silly. To my surprise, I’m not doing bad. In fact, it feels pretty good!
Trixie snaps and claps to the beat of the next song. The one after that she knows well enough to sing. We’re on the highway now, making it easy to groove along with her. If I stop for too long, she does everything in her power to get me moving again. I’m grinning from ear to ear by the time we reach Tacoma and she asks me to pull over.
“Here?” I ask. The area is mostly industrial, although the nearest neighborhood isn’t so far away.
“I’m staying with a friend, and she’s really private about where she lives.”
“Oh.” I put the car in park and pop the trunk. Then I get out and meet Trixie at the rear of the vehicle. The suitcase is nearly the same size as her. “You brought all of that with you on a daytrip to Seattle?” I ask.
“I was planning on staying there longer than I did,” Trixie explains. “That’s all.”
“Okay.” I don’t move. It feels wrong to leave her here. “Are you sure I can’t drop you off closer to where you’re going? I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you on the way there.”
Trixie smiles at the offer. “I’ll be fine, but it’s very sweet of you. Are you always this concerned about other people?”
“Not really,” I admit. “In fact, I think I’ve spent most of my life worrying about my own wellbeing more than anyone else’s.”
