Chapter #12Doing Unto Dana by: Seuzz   As you are getting out of your car, another vehicle goes prowling past, to park two houses down. From the front steps of your house you watch as David Johnson and his sister Joanna get out.
That is probably what decided it for you—the latent rivalry between you and Johnson for Dana's attention and friendship. You feel yourself impaled on a spike of jealousy, and resolve to do something about it.
So, in your bedroom, before you've even dumped the contents of your book bag over your bed, you text Dana, asking if she wants to get together tonight to work on homework.
* * * * *
"Hey. So it's been awhile since we've studied together." That's Dana's greeting when she climbs into the passenger seat of your car. It's coming up on eight o'clock and it's dark already, for the day was overcast with intermittent rain. Though she's changed from her school clothes, she looks like she's still dressed for the weather, in jeans and a loose sweatshirt with the Eastman Dragons logo on the front. It's an ensemble that says Business Only. But her plans for the night are not your plans.
She had asked if you were going to get together at each other's houses, but you suggested a coffee shop instead, and now you ask her which one she wants to go to.
"Um, Milagro's kind of expensive," she says. "But they've got the best muffins."
"Milagro sounds great," you reply, and put the car in motion. "It's just going to be us, if that's okay," you add.
"I kind of thought it would be," Dana says. "You wanna wait until we get there?"
You jerk your head in surprise, for it's like she's read your mind, which would be both horrible and a terrible shock. "To do what?" you stammer.
She looks away, and smiles tightly to herself. It's a moment before she answers.
"Well, do you actually want to get any studying done?" she asks. "I mean, we don't have any Geology homework, and the reading in Lit isn't something we have to do together. So—" She hesitates again. "I was kind of guessing you just wanted to hang out and talk. Do you want to wait until we get to the coffee shop? Or, if you want to do homework, do you want to, um, go ahead and talk now, get it out of the way?"
You get crawly feelings all up and down your spine and in your gut. Almost you regret what you plan to do, for Dana is clearly trying to act like a friend. At the same time, you can't help resenting what she's said. Like I need to cry on her shoulder!
"You mean about what I told you happened at the party?" you ask.
"Well, yeah."
"I told you what happened." Then a thought occurs to you. "Have you heard some stuff I didn't tell you about?"
"Like what?"
"Like whatever. I told you everything that happened, Dana! But are people saying there was more going on? You're more plugged into that stuff than I am. And no one'd tell me everything that they're saying either, right?"
"Well, people are—" Dana starts to say, but then she catches herself. "Look, just don't worry about it."
"Oh, right. Like 'Don't worry about it' is going to make me not worry! What are you—?"
"It's nothing, Zack! People get ahold of something juicy and they, you know, just talk about it."
"You mean they talk about me," you retort.
"Well, and Beth. It doesn't mean anything—"
"Fuck me."
"It'll all die out."
"And in the yearbook I'll be voted 'Most likely to puke on his date'."
There's a silence. Then Dana says, "I thought she puked all over you."
"I've heard it the other way," you tell her, to cover up your slip. "Anyway, 'Most likely to be puked on by his dates' is hardly better."
"Well, this is why I thought you maybe wanted to talk," Dana says quietly.
You let out a deep sigh. This kind of drama is just what you were worried about. At the same time, it doesn't matter what you say or even that you talk about it. So why tear yourself up over it?
"Maybe we can talk about it later," you mutter. "I wanted to do homework for real, anyway. With you as company."
Dana doesn't say anything. But she is smiling at you when you glance over.
* * * * *
You were planning to wait until after you finished your "study session" before making a move on Dana. But you were already afraid that you would lose your nerve if you waited, and you don't want to deal with the awkwardness of "studying" after the little talk you've just had.
So when you pull into the parking lot at the Milagro Beanfield Warehouse, you park in the darkest corner of the lot, and after shutting off the motor you twist and reach across Dana to stop her from opening her door. She turns her face to yours just as you are pushing your face at her.
That vomitous twist in your guts is already unfurling, and rushing up esophagus, as you feel your eyes rolling backward in their sockets. Your jaw opens, straining, as your very guts (it feels like) come hurtling up the back of your throat and over your tongue. You hear a squeal and feel something thrashing in your arms before your entire body goes numb.
And then you are plunging again into someplace dark and wet and tight. Muscles squeeze and push you, and you push back, pressing into every crack you can find between them. You are overcome by a brief moment of panic as you fight for breath, and you are hit by a terrible thought (which you should have had before): What if I'm stuck here and can't get out again, but I don't get control of Dana's body? An eternity of being squeezed inside this tight, hot, damp, salty place would be a nightmare.
But then you seem to bloom. Limbs seem to blossom, and then very suddenly you have a body again. You are choking and coughing and gasping, but are hale and whole again.
You are gripping a car console with one hand, and pushing at something hard but yielding with the other. You raise your face (which is covered with hair), and quickly master the shuddering, hacking gasps that are rolling through you. You catch your breath, swallow, and push the hair from your face. You look over, and see, in the dark cabin of the car, your old body looking back at you with a steady gaze. You are clutching him by the shoulder.
You take another deep breath and, while still hanging onto your old body for support, grab and clutch and gently squeeze a breast beneath the thick folds of the sweatshirt. You touch your face, gently brushing it with your fingertips. You touch your parted lips, then dart a tongue out to touch the tips of your fingernails. You rub the moisture from your eyes, and grab your hair to tuck it more firmly back behind your head. Only then do you let go of your old body.
He hasn't said anything, and he doesn't say anything now. Nor do you say anything. You just push open the door and clamber out of the car, pulling Dana's backpack out with you. Zachary climbs out on the other side.
You wobble badly on your feet as you stand, and almost lose your balance as you slam the door shut. You frown and look down at your feet as you take a tentative step, and that's when you realize you are wearing high-heeled boots. Shit, you think as you take a few more steps. Why can't I do this?
That's when you realize you have no sense of Dana's personality being with you.
Zachary hurries over to you and takes your arm in his, and with his support you totter toward the coffeeshop. Inside, you wrap an arm around his waist, and he wraps an arm around you, and you get a nice thrill from the thought that you are hugging Dana to yourself, both inside and outside. Before you can indicate which way you want to go, he steers you toward the dining room and helps you into the booth. As you sit there, trying to steady yourself, he goes to the front counter, and returns with two coffees and a bran muffin—which is what you would have asked him to bring. After unpacking his own bag, he sits back and studies you, waiting, from under lowered brows.
You are overcome by the eeriness of the scene: you in this coffee shop, with your old body sitting across from you. But that sense of the eerie is even stronger now than when you were inside Beth.
Because then you at least had Beth's mind and memories and personality with you, and the pretense of being "Beth" meant that you could look at your old body as being someone else. But to your quiet alarm, you've no sense of Dana's mind or personality being present. You are inside her body. But everything else is a closed book.
Shit, you mutter to yourself as a quiet feeling of panic begins to uncoil in your chest.
You stretch your hand across the table, and Zack, his unwinking gaze still locked onto you, stretches his hand across to take it. You fiddle with each other's fingers, and squeeze them.
Why could I get inside Beth's head and not just her body? you wonder. Come to that, you wonder, why wasn't I instantly inside Beth's body the way I got instantly inside Dana's?
These questions unnerve you. If you bolted from Dana's body, what would happen? Would she act like Beth is acting now? Or would she remember what you did to her? If you stick it out here, in Dana's body, would you gradually pick up her memories? Or would you have to fake your way through as her without knowing anything about her?
Which way runs the least chance of a fatal fuck up by you?   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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