This choice: Randall wants help escaping the hospital • Go Back...Chapter #6Randall wants help escaping the hospital by: biglou   With the weight of what had just unfolded settling in, Randall—now inhabiting Brandi Summers' body—sat silently, his trembling fingers exploring the unfamiliar curves of his new form. The surreal nature of the situation was suffocating, but a faint glimmer of humor flickered in his mind. "Tim," he whispered, his voice still tinged with disbelief, "you think this makes me the hottest guy at school?"
Tim snorted, unable to help himself, despite the gravity of the moment. "Randall, you're not just the hottest guy. You’re the hottest girl *and* guy now."
Randall rolled his eyes—a strangely delicate motion given the length of his new lashes. "Fantastic. Just what I always dreamed of."
The two friends sat in silence for a while longer, their thoughts racing. Randall’s mind spun with questions: How was he going to pull this off? How could he possibly step into Brandi’s shoes—literally and figuratively? The thought of cheerleading practice alone was enough to make him sweat. And what about Brandi's friends, her family, her *boyfriends*? He cringed.
Tim, ever the problem-solver—or at least the optimist—broke the silence. "Look, man…uh, I mean, Brandi…no, wait…" Tim groaned, rubbing his temples. "Okay, this is going to be weird. But we’re going to figure it out. You're not alone in this, alright?"
Randall glanced at Tim, appreciating his friend's unwavering loyalty. "Thanks," he murmured. "But seriously, if I end up having to wear a cheerleader uniform, you're coming to practice with me."
Tim laughed, the tension in the room easing ever so slightly. "Deal. But don’t expect me to do any flips. I’ve got two left feet, remember?"
Before they could dive deeper into the bizarre reality they were now facing, the door swung open, revealing Brandi’s parents. Their eyes were puffy, no doubt from crying, but their faces lit up as they saw Randall—or rather, Brandi—sitting upright in bed.
"My baby!" Brandi's mom cried, rushing to his side. Randall froze, his panic rising as he struggled to maintain composure.
"Hey…Mom," he managed, the unfamiliar voice feeling foreign even to him. He glanced at Tim, silently pleading for help. Tim nodded subtly, his expression one of determination. They would get through this. Somehow.
Brandi’s parents—now Randall’s by circumstance—drew closer, their expressions of relief and love mixing with the hesitancy of seeing their daughter awake but clearly disoriented. Brandi’s mom reached out, gently stroking Randall’s—her daughter’s—hair. “Oh, sweetie, we were so worried about you,” she whispered.
Randall suppressed a flinch at the unexpected touch. He could feel the weight of the moment, but every instinct in his mind screamed that these were strangers. He mustered a weak smile, swallowing the panic rising in his chest. “I… I’m okay,” he said softly, his voice cracking—not from emotion, but from struggling to sound authentic.
Tim stayed rooted in his chair, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. He could sense how uncomfortable Randall was, and it took everything in him not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. If he laughed now, it would blow everything.
Brandi’s dad stepped closer, his imposing frame towering over the bed as his stern features softened. “We’re just glad you’re alright,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat. He placed a warm, heavy hand on Randall’s shoulder. “The doctors told us you’ll need some time to recover, but you’re strong. You’ll pull through this.”
“Yeah…” Randall managed, nodding stiffly. His mind raced, trying to piece together what Brandi’s home life was like, who these people were beyond their titles of “Mom” and “Dad.” Did they have family routines? Rules? Expectations? He realized he was woefully unprepared for this part of his new life.
“Do you need anything, sweetie?” Brandi’s mom asked, her voice full of concern. She clutched her purse tightly, as if ready to pull out any item that could ease her daughter’s discomfort.
Randall shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Just… tired.” It was the truth, though not in the way they likely interpreted. He felt utterly drained, as though he had been thrust into an impossible role in a play he hadn’t auditioned for.
Brandi’s parents exchanged a look, then nodded. “We’ll let you rest,” her dad said. “But if you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”
As they stepped out, Randall exhaled deeply, slumping back against the pillows. His gaze shifted to Tim, who had been biting his lip to keep from laughing this whole time.
“Do you *know* how hard it is not to lose it when someone calls me ‘sweetie’?” Randall hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tim finally let out a snicker. “Man, you handled that like a champ. I mean, I half-expected you to start calling her ‘Mrs. Summers’ or something.”
“Not funny, Tim,” Randall groaned, though a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He ran a hand through his—*her*—long, silky hair and sighed. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
Tim leaned forward, his tone turning serious. “Look, Randall, I know this sucks. But remember what Dr. Kerry said—you’ve got a second chance. Not many people get that. We’ll figure this out. Together.”
Randall nodded slowly, appreciating Tim’s unwavering support. “Yeah. Together.”
As they sat in the quiet room, the weight of the situation lingered, but so did a glimmer of determination. Randall might have been thrust into an impossible scenario, but if anyone could figure out how to navigate it, it was him—and Tim wasn’t about to let him face it alone.
The first day back to school as Brandi Summers was fast approaching, and the anxiety was building like a storm in Randall’s chest. The hospital discharge was uneventful—apart from the nerves and awkwardness of being fussed over by Brandi’s parents. Every corner of her house, from her pink-accented bedroom to her neatly organized closet, screamed a life Randall was completely unprepared to live.
That morning, Randall stood in front of the mirror in Brandi’s room, staring at his reflection. The bright green eyes stared back, filled with disbelief. The face was undeniably hers, but the thoughts and emotions swirling within were all him. He rubbed his temples, already dreading what was to come.
Tim, being the loyal friend he was, had insisted on walking Randall to school, claiming he wouldn’t miss this show for anything. “You ready for this?” Tim asked, smirking as Randall adjusted the hem of a light sweater that was just a bit too snug for his liking.
“No, Tim,” Randall said flatly, turning to face him. “I’m not ready. I don’t even know how to *walk* in these stupid shoes.”
Tim snorted. “They’re sneakers, Randall. You’re not in heels or anything.”
“They’re still too tight,” he grumbled, sighing. “What am I even supposed to say to people? ‘Hi, I’m Brandi Summers, and I now have all the cheerleading moves of a newborn giraffe’?”
“Relax,” Tim said with a grin. “You’ll be fine. Just smile and nod a lot. And if anyone asks weird questions, just blame it on the accident.”
The walk to school was uneventful, but as they approached the entrance, Randall could feel eyes on him—no, *her.* Brandi Summers was a walking magnet for attention, and Randall was acutely aware of the glances and whispers as they passed. He tried to focus on one step at a time, reminding himself that falling flat on his face would only make this nightmare worse.
Inside, Brandi’s friends were quick to swarm her—or rather, Randall. The sea of high-pitched voices and hugs was overwhelming, and Randall found himself nodding along, trying to keep up with their rapid-fire questions about how she was feeling and when she’d be ready to get back to cheerleading practice.
“Uh, soon,” Randall said, forcing a smile that felt unnatural. “Just taking it one day at a time.”
One of Brandi’s closest friends, Jessica, gave a sympathetic pout. “You poor thing. That accident must have been so traumatic. And that hospital gown? Ugh, the worst!”
Randall couldn’t help but glance at Tim, who was watching the scene unfold with poorly concealed amusement. “Yeah,” he muttered. “The gown was the worst part.”
Lunch was equally nerve-wracking. Randall picked at a salad while Brandi’s friends chattered about everything from prom dresses to the latest gossip. He felt like an outsider in his own skin, struggling to participate in conversations that meant nothing to him.
Tim, who had strategically positioned himself nearby, gave Randall a reassuring thumbs-up from across the cafeteria. It was a small gesture, but it reminded Randall he wasn’t completely alone in this madness.
The day dragged on, a mix of awkward encounters and forced smiles. By the time the final bell rang, Randall felt like he had run a marathon. Tim caught up with him outside the school, grinning ear to ear.
“You survived,” Tim said, clapping him on the back. “How does it feel to be the most popular girl in school?”
“Exhausting,” Randall groaned. “And I don’t even want to think about cheer practice tomorrow.”
Tim laughed, shaking his head. “Well, look on the bright side. At least you’ve got me to keep you sane.”
Randall couldn’t argue with that. As overwhelming as it all was, knowing Tim had his back made it just a little bit easier to face whatever was coming next.
Later...
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