Chloe
Dorothea Artell is tall. Not tall-for-a-man tall, but definitely tall-for-a-woman tall. She has long black hair that falls down her back in waves and broad, toned shoulders. I’m uncertain if her build indicates bodybuilding or extensive martial arts training, but neither of those does much to put me at ease as I get up from my seat and walk over to sit down next to her.
It’s not like there’s anything negative to know about Thea. She hasn’t ever said anything mean to me, or even looked at me in a particularly mean manner. And still… She has this air about her that just makes me nervous. She never reacted to me the way any of the others did. No matter what I did, she kept to herself, only talking minimally, never coming to any of the parties and meet-ups I organised, even when I invited her directly. I know she watches me sometimes, watches us, but I can’t read her expressions, and whenever I look over, she lets her gaze wander on like we don’t really matter.
I never dared to confront her. It’s not like she’s doing anything illegal, it’s just… I managed to be on friendly, if not personal terms with pretty much everybody else, except maybe Noelle. And I worked for it, sure, and that’s fine that I had to work for it. But no matter how much work I subtly put into trying to crack Thea, it never did anything. So eventually, I just stopped, because she seems like the kinda person to develop an intense disliking for people who try too hard, and also like the kinda person who can hold a grudge.
I pull out the chair next to hers and sit down gingerly, my bag on the floor next to me. I can already feel myself tensing up, even though I let myself sleep in today, which is to say that I slept until Noelle would have gotten up usually. I felt extremely well-rested earlier, when I came into class, but now all that energy seems to translate immediately into tenseness.
“Hi,” I say after a moment’s hesitation, trying to project at least a little cheer into my voice. I know Noelle hasn’t been as enthusiastically positive as me lately, but it can’t hurt to be nice, can it?
She looks up from her notepad where she’s doodling an honestly pretty cool design of a dragon with black pen, thousands of little scribbles coming together to form an eerily detailed and real-looking result.
“Hi,” she says back, but it sounds empty. Bored, even.
Something twists in my gut, and I look away from her. Busying myself by getting out my own notepad and pen, I silently pray that she’s going to put away her pen and start the conversation that’ll lead us to a productive if not friendly cooperation for the sake of this group work.
But when I look back up, she’s not even looking at me anymore. Instead, she’s busy detailing the horns at the side of the dragon’s head. I watch her for a moment, uncertain of what to do next. The strokes of her pen would seem careless if not for the highly intricate result. Her expression is relaxed as she draws, but even that way she doesn’t look very friendly.
Well, it’s not really her choice what she looks like, is it now? I scold myself. You should really stop judging people. YOU of all people should know better.
I like to think that I’m smart. In spite of all theoretical knowledge that there’s always somebody smarter somewhere, and that by all relevant measurements of knowledge I know nothing, people generally seem to accept me as one of the smartest people in any given constellation. And I suppose this impression has started to rub off on my own perception of myself. Which only makes realising how biased I am all the more frustrating.
I want her to be unfriendly to me in this body as well, it occurs to me. Because that would mean that it’s not about Chloe, it would mean that it wasn’t my fault. It would make it hers. And for some reason, I really want it to be her fault.
I give myself a mental kick. That’s no way to think about other people.
So instead of just watching silently, I lean in a little. “That’s a really cool drawing,” I say, fully aware of how lame that sounds. But it’s not like I know enough about drawing to be more specific than that, and I know even less about fantasy, so I can’t make any guesses as to which dragon she’s drawing.
For a moment, she says nothing, and I begin to think that she’s going to continue to ignore me, but then she says, “Thanks,” in a slow and deliberate way as she continues drawing.
After watching for another second, I sit up straight and square my shoulders. I was prepared to do most, if not all of the work for this project going into it, so that’s fine. But I will have to at least talk it over with her before going off on my own.
I had a little free time yesterday night, so I started some preliminary research, expecting that it might come to something like this. So I open the page where I put down a few ideas for a possible project topic. Whichever way it goes, I won’t be able to talk to Mr Brady about it today, because he knows the way I usually operate too well. Even for the next history class, I’ll have to let Noelle formulate the actual research proposal to avoid insulting her or seeming too advanced out of the blue.
“So, uhm, do you have anything you’d like to research for the project?”
Thea shrugs. “Not really?”
Unsurprised, I readjust my notepad so the sides align with the edges of the table. “I had a few ideas?”
Absentmindedly, she pinches her lower lip between two of her fingers, still drawing. “Shoot.”
“Okay, so.” I notice that I’m playing with my pen the way I always did as Chloe and force myself to put it down, clearing my throat as if that might distract from the movement. “I did a little digging yesterday, and I thought maybe something a little more niche would be interesting? Like, the Winter War between Finland and the Soviet Union, or the second Sino-Japanese War between China and Japan, both during the Second World War. There are plenty of sources we could use, and I doubt we’ll have any trouble with other people picking out similar projects—”
I stop myself when I notice that she’s stopped drawing, finally, and is now looking at me thoughtfully.
“I never knew you were such a try-hard.”
A jolt goes through my body at the words, and the noise of the classroom around us is briefly drowned by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. Then laughter echoes in my ears, and immediately, I feel small and defenceless. There’s an overwhelming urge to curl inwards, to lower my head to the point where my face is hidden behind the curtain of my hair, to leave the room at the first opportunity that presents itself and hide out some place nobody will find.
But none of that is possible, and I know as much. I’m no longer that girl, in every possible sense of the concept; I’ve moved on.
A reflexive smile plasters itself over my face, even as my mind is busy processing what just happened, and I hear myself say, “Gotta walk to get places, and running gets you there faster.”
I only realise afterwards that it’s one of the idioms I really liked to use as Chloe a lot, though not as much recently. It’s unlikely that Thea would know that, though. She’s never been part of my closer social circle.
People stopped accusing me of trying too hard when I stopped talking about my school work to anybody besides Vivi. This was simply a slip-up, a fluke. I suppose it’s also because nobody expects Noelle to have a remotely similar approach to school work as Chloe. It was my mistake, really, and I’ll simply have to be more careful in the future.
Thea gives a low scoff. “You’re odd.”
The smile on my lips doesn’t budge. “Aren’t we all?”
At that, Thea cocks her head in concession. “Fair enough, I guess.”
***
Even hours later, as I leave the school building, I’m still on edge. I managed to get through the rest of the class without any more mess-ups, and Thea even seemed willing to participate in the research process by the end of it. Though, how willing she really is, only time will tell.
I walk quickly along the narrow streets and alleys on my way to the centre of town. That’s a definite advantage of this body; although it is in worse shape than my old one, the length of my legs easily makes up for it.
I already know where I’m going and don’t have to use my phone to find the little café I told Noelle to meet me at after school. We still have a lot to discuss, after all. We agreed upon my suggestion that it’s a good idea to keep in close contact for, if possible, the entire six-month ‘testing period’, if not longer. I brought my notebook, and I already spent my breaks gathering a few more questions and things I’ll have to discuss with Noelle.
The thought of it makes my stomach flutter in excited anticipation. Because isn’t this why I did it? I mean, I mainly did it so Noelle could be happy, but also because I want to spend time with her. As much as possible.
Of course, Noelle might have a more difficult time getting away from everybody at school. So I don’t wait in front of the café, but instead go inside and place an order for a hot chocolate. It’s what I always order when I’m out with Vivi, although that was never here. I don’t drink coffee on principle, and tea isn’t… sweet enough to drink while sitting around with my friends. I’d also be lying if I said I wouldn’t worry about seeming pretentious if I drank tea while relaxing with my closest friend.
I wonder how Noelle’s day was, as I wait for my order. I did watch her from time to time, always making sure to do it subtly. She seemed to be doing pretty well from what I could tell. Maybe a little more shy than what I usually aim to project, but that was to be expected at first. She really did get lucky by scoring Jason for her group project; he’s not only really nice, but also not very… perceptive. I’ve never really talked to him enough to properly get to know him, although I’ve made it a point to know him enough to be ‘friends’. He would occasionally ask me stuff for school during the last few days before exams, and I was always happy to score those brownie points.
The sudden movement of the glass door to the café opening startles me, and I look up, seeing myself walk in cautiously, wakeful eyes scanning the room.
When she spots me, her posture straightens almost imperceptibly, and a small smile appears at the corners of her lips. My chest goes warm.
“Hi,” she says, as she sits down across from me, her order already placed. “How are you?”
I give her a brief summary of the last couple days. I tell her about my short conversation with her Mum, about dinner, about my group work with Thea and the mess-up. I keep Jas’s question about the date to myself, though. The mere thought of it makes me blush.
Then it’s Noelle’s turn, and she tells me about her day. She tells me how everybody seems to be constantly looking at her, and I tell her that that’s normal. It shouldn’t be surprising that she didn’t know to expect this, but somehow I still missed warning her. She tells me how cheesy Jason is, which, yeah, he definitely is, and I’m relieved she finds it as endearing as I do.
Then, seemingly at the end of her report, she hesitates. Her face reddens, and she squirms uncomfortably as she seems to be looking for the right words.
Finally, she says, in a low voice, “Showering was weird this morning.”
It takes me a moment to make sense of her words because I only barely understood them, then I frown. “Why?” I ask it even though I already expect what she says next.
“It feels… wrong to look at this body,” she says slowly. “Like a… violation of some sort.”
And she’s right, I suppose. When I went to shower this morning, I also avoided looking at myself down there, but then I already had to deal with that when I woke up with an erection. Not that I did anything to deal with it, because I’d already expected it, and knew that it would just go away if I waited a little. But it did take away from the feeling of intruding on this body.
Gently, I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. My stomach flutters at the coolness of her skin, but I force myself to maintain contact.
“It’s your body,” I tell her, in just as low a voice. “It’s ridiculous to try not to even look at it. Remember, I’m also in your body, okay?”
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “Won’t it be weird if we swap back?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, do you want to swap back?”
She hesitates, then slowly shakes her head. “What about you, though?” she tries to argue, but I interrupt her with a small grin.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” And with the proximity of her and the feeling of her skin against mine, I know that I’m speaking the truth.