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Ben and Emma are teenagers who go to the same high school and have been next door neighbors since they were kids. But after drifting apart for a few years, can a body swapping app bring them back together? What does it mean for Emma's burgeoning with the school bully, Jake?This story covers the first half of the commission, due to length. The second half will be written and published in the coming weeks seperately.
Ben moved slowly through the bustling halls of Lincoln High, his face buried in the latest issue of Lunar Phantom, a new manga series he'd recently gotten into. He was an ordinary high school boy of medium build, with glasses perched precariously on his nose, hair unruly in a fashion that spoke more of negligence than style. His anime-themed backpack was more an advertisement of his passions than a call to belong.
A sudden shout jolted him from his colorful world of dragons and mythical creatures. It was a voice he knew well. A voice that made his insides shrink and twist. Jake.
Jake towered over the crowd, a behemoth in a letterman jacket, rippling muscles hinted at beneath the cloth. His presence was as chilling as a harsh winter's breeze, causing the sea of students to part as he strode towards Ben, eyes gleaming with a harsh intensity that promised trouble.
"Hey, nerd," Jake sneered, swatting the manga from Ben's hands, sending it flying across the hallway. The bright panels of Lunar Phantom lay scattered on the floor, a stark contrast against the dull linoleum. The hallway fell silent, eyes darting from Ben to Jake and back, anticipation hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.
"Whoops” laughed Jake. “Looks like you dropped your comic book!” Jake smirked at him like it was the funniest thing ever.
Ben reached down to pick up the scattered pages, hands shaking, but Jake's boot descended onto the colorful paper, grinding it under his heel. The snickers of Jake's friends echo’d around them.
“Oi, Jake” a male voice said, gesturing.
Around the corner came a beautiful girl wearing a cheerleader's uniform, and Jake quickly abandoned his mockery. He straightened up, pushing Ben to the side, and strode towards Emma. Left alone in the wake of the bully's departure, Ben clenched his jaw, simmering in a mix of embarrassment and resentment.
Emma was laughing, her blonde hair bouncing as she gestured animatedly at something one of her friends said. A group had gathered around her, attracted by the radiant cheerleader who had a kind word for everyone.
"Hey, Emma," Jake called out, causing Emma to turn towards him. Her blue eyes widened in surprise before being replaced by a warm smile.
"Hey, Jake," she replied, her voice melodic. She adjusted the red and white pompoms in her hand as she greeted him. They must have just come from practice.
The sight of Jake and Emma laughing together caused a sour taste to rise in Ben's mouth. He watched as Jake threw his arm casually over Emma's shoulder, making her giggle. Every smile she flashed at Jake was a jab at Ben's pride.
"Hey, so I was thinking," Jake began, his voice slipping into a softer tone as he leaned in closer to Emma. "Hell-o-saurus is coming out on Thursday. Thought maybe we could check it out together?"
Emma looked surprised for a moment, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Sure,," she replied, "I'd like that."
Ben clenched his fist. Of all the things… He watched as Jake gave Emma a triumphant grin and squeezed her shoulder lightly before he pushed off the lockers and ambled away, leaving a starstruck Emma behind.
Ben waited for a moment, the taste of his own defeat still bitter on his tongue. Finally, gathering his scattered manga and the remaining shreds of his pride, he approached Emma.
"What's so great about him?" Ben grumbled, giving voice to the annoyance he'd been nursing.
Emma jumped, startled. "Oh, Ben!" she said, her surprise quickly replaced by a soft smile. "I didn't see you there."
Ben scowled, his eyes following the figure of the retreating bully. "What do you even see in him?"
Emma shrugged, her smile fading slightly. "Ah, I don’t know. He's... nice, you know?" she replied, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "Confident, protective. He knows what he wants, you know? But isn’t pushy or desperate to get it."
"Yeah, nice," Ben muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm. “And not pushy…” he rubbed his shoulder where Ben had literally pushed him against the lockers. He stared at Emma, part of him wondering what it would be like to be her. How differently people treated them just because of their appearance. If he was her… well, he’d be able to dump Jake at least.
He smirked as he imagined Jake’s face, Emma’s body telling him exactly what Ben wanted.
“Anyway, it was nice to see you, Ben” Emma said as she turned back to her cheerleader friends. They quickly got to gossiping about the upcoming date, leaving Ben totally ignored and alone.
___________________________
Later that evening, Ben sat hunched over his laptop, the soft glow of the screen the only illumination. He’d been clicking around, bored and uninspired, when he came across a forum talking about body swapping. And talking about it *wa*y more seriously then he’d seen before. A role play group?
“NewYou is wild” read the opening post of a thread that caught Ben's attention. A few quick clicks later, he was deep into the thread, engrossed in the accounts shared by the anonymous users, all apparently claiming to have swapped bodies.
“Experienced NewYou for the first time last week with my gym buddy. It was hilarious and weird. Flexing muscles I didn't even know existed and tasting food for the first time without my nut allergy was something else. Having to bench press twice my original weight was cool.”
“Okay, so I swapped with my younger sis, thought it would be a piece of cake. Boy, it was weird. I lost about a foot of height, and everybody treated me real different. She was massively embarrassing in my body too. Bleh! On the upside, I aced a history test for her, so I think she owes me for that.”
“You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I swapped with my cat because my friend Stace dared me to on a sleepover. BAD IDEA! As soon as we swapped, the cat in my old body went kinda crazy. She swiped at me, and do you KNOW how weird it is to get hit by your own hand!?! Stace had to hold her down for us to swap back. 7/5 with rice LOL!”
Thread after thread, post after post, the users' casual discussions about swapping bodies sent Ben's heart racing. They described the shock of waking up in a new body, the strange feeling of looking into a mirror and seeing someone else's face, the sheer thrill of walking in someone else's shoes. Literally!
He had to get in on this.
It turned out downloading the app wasn’t too difficult. You needed to put your phone into developer mode and hook it up to a computer, but essentially you could just download the software from the website and run it. Both people needed to do it on separate phones though, and both needed to agree to swap. That was the tricky part - Ben didn’t know who might want to swap with him of all people.
Unless…
"Emma," Ben mumbled to himself, the idea no longer an impossibility. It was as if the universe was answering his prayers. His mind raced with potential scenarios, all the things he could do. He could finally show Emma the real Jake, he could experience what it was like to be popular, and who knew, maybe he'd enjoy cheerleading. She was always pretty open to trying new things… who knows, maybe she’d do it as a favor?
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out of his house. The evening air was cool against his face, and the usually short journey to Emma's house felt like it took ages. He stood in front of her white picket fence, swallowed his nervousness, and walked up to the front door.
He rapped on the door lightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Emma’s mom answered the door, and with a surprised smile, she let him in. Emma's house had always been a home away from home for Ben when they were younger. The familiar smells and sounds brought back a wave of nostalgia.
Ben found Emma in her room, sitting on her bed, her cheerleader uniform discarded in favor of comfy pajamas. Her room was filled with cheerleading trophies, pop posters, and make-up scattered across her dressing table.
“Oh! Hey, Ben!” Emma exclaimed, surprised but clearly pleased. “What are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Oh, what is it?" Emma asked, sitting up straight, her face filled with curiosity.
"Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Even if it was just for a day?"
She looked at him quizzically, her head tilted to one side. "Um, no, not really. I mean I’ve been curious about–” she stopped talking, “Why are you asking?"
Ben took out his phone, showing her the NewYou app he had just downloaded.
"Because," he said, his heart pounding in his chest, "I think we can."
Emma looked at the screen of Ben's phone, frowning slightly. "NewYou? Is this some sort of game?"
"No, it's not a game," Ben said, shaking his head. "It's an app. It lets two people swap bodies."
He held his breath, waiting for Emma's reaction. She stared at the screen for a moment longer before bursting into laughter. "That's ridiculous! There's no way such a thing is real. You can't seriously believe this, Ben."
Ben didn't waver, didn't retract his statement. He had expected her to be skeptical. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think it's worth a try. Think about it, Emma. What if you could see the world from a different perspective? Wouldn't you like to experience what it's like to be someone else?"
Emma stopped laughing, considering his words. She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
He nodded, keeping his gaze steady on hers. "I am."
A thoughtful silence filled the room as Emma took in his words. Ben could see the gears turning in her head. He knew her well enough to know that she was considering it. Emma was always up for a challenge, always ready to try new things. That was one of the things he admired about her.
Finally, she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Okay, let's say I believe you. And let's say I'm willing to give this a shot. Why would you want to swap bodies with me?"
Ben considered his words carefully. "To see the world differently. You’re popular, you’re cool, people look up to you, and you’re, you know…” he gestured at her.
She giggled. “Hot?”
“I was going to say ‘a girl’, but yeah, that too.”
She punched him on the arm. “Alright Cinderella! You better not ruin this view when I get back to it!” She looked down at herself, stretching her arms out.
Ben exhaled, relief washing over him. He grinned at Emma, excitement buzzing in his veins.
Emma downloaded the app on her phone, following Ben's instructions, then they both opened it and Ben initiated the request to swap. Emma accepted it with a quick tap on her screen.
Their screens flickered for a moment.
“I don’t think anything happened.” said Emma, unsurprised. “God you almost had me going there!”
“No, no, wait” said Ben. “I can feel something.”
His hands and feet had begun tingling, and his stomach felt like it was dropping. Down. Away.
Ben blinked and found himself sitting on the other side of the room.
His phone buzzed. “Swap successful. Enjoy your NewYou!"
Ben gasped and looked down at his hands. Delicate fingers, manicured nails instead of his usual large and bony hands.
"Oh my god," Ben whispered, looking up at Emma. His voice was higher, softer. Emma's voice. His heart raced as he reached up to touch his - no, her - face, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers.
He looked at Emma, who seemed to be going through a similar realization. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she looked down at her - his - hands.
"Ben," she said, her voice lower, rougher. Ben's voice. "I think it worked."
Ben could only nod, his mind racing with the possibilities. They had done it. They had swapped bodies! And… easily! How was this not in every media outlet? How was this not all over the internet?!
Still clutching the phone in his dainty hands, Ben stood up, surprised by the effort it took. He looked down. The ground seemed closer than normal, as if he wasn’t standing up at all. He gingerly touched the soft fabric of the sweater he was wearing, and the gentle curve of the waist beneath it. He felt light, free, different. He very deliberately didn’t touch the breasts that were now hanging on his chest, not when their former owner was standing just a few feet away, though he felt them jiggle as he moved.
Emma, standing awkwardly in Ben’s body, snorted. “This is so weird,” she grumbled, adjusting the baggy jeans. She tried to cross her arms, a habit of hers, but found the movement unfamiliar and slightly awkward.
Then, she turned to look at her own body, now occupied by Ben. She raised a hand and brushed her own hair out of her former eyes.
Seeing her own face from an outsider's perspective was strange, almost surreal. She frowned as she gently tracing the contours of the face she knew so well, yet was now so alien. The long lashes, the soft lips, the small mole on the left cheek - everything was the same and yet, so very different.
"Wow," she breathed out, her voice deep and rough. "I didn't realize... I mean, you're… I'm… pretty."
Ben blushed, a pink hue appearing on his - no, her - fair cheeks. It was a strange sensation. His skin tingling, heart pounding in a chest that was no longer his.
“Yeah, you… I mean, I…” Ben stammered, flustered and unsure how to respond to that. “This is a lot to take in.”
There was a pause as the reality of their situation sunk in. They had swapped bodies, an impossible event made reality by an obscure app and a moment of daring curiosity.
"Let's just... take it slow, okay?" Emma finally broke the silence. She gestured to a mirror on the wall. "Maybe we should start with getting used to our new appearances."
And so they did. They stood in front of the mirror, marveling at the reflection that looked back at them. There was Ben, there was Emma. But the reflection of Ben wasn’t where it should be – it was two feet to the left of where it should be! Weird.
Just as they were starting to make peace with their reflections, a knock echoed through the room, followed by a muffled voice. "Emma, honey, dinner's ready."
Emma's - or rather, Ben's - eyes widened. He quickly turned to look at Emma, panic flickering in his gaze. She seemed calmer. “Well, you wanted to experience being me!”
"I know," he said, trying to steady his racing heart. "I have to go. I can do this. I can pretend to be you for one evening."
Emma was silent for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. "Just... be careful, okay?" she finally said, her tone serious. "And text me if anything happens."
Ben nodded, giving her a small, assuring smile. Then, with a last look at the mirror, he left the room, his new ponytail bouncing with each step he took.
Dinner was a rollercoaster of emotions for Ben. Emma's parents were lovely people, he found, even if her younger brother was quite the pest. He did his best to act like Emma, mimicking her speech patterns and mannerisms. He laughed at her father's puns and helped her mother serve the salad. It was going well until dessert.
As he was reaching for a piece of pie, his sleeve snagged the bowl of cream, sending it splattering all over himself and the tablecloth. A gasp ran through the room, and Ben felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh, Emma!" her mother exclaimed, rushing to wipe the mess with a napkin. "That's not like you at all."
Ben blushed and apologized.
“I guess you better go have a shower and clean up. Don’t worry about it down here.”
Oh.
Oh no.
_______________________
Meanwhile, back at Ben's place, Emma was trying to navigate Ben's life. His parents were nice enough, though they asked a lot of questions about school and her - Ben's - future. She smiled and nodded, providing vague answers when she could. She even played a round of video games with Ben's 13 year old sister. It was a novelty for Emma, who had never been much of a gamer. But, it was nice, she thought. Different, but nice.
They were loading a new level when her phone buzzed. A message from ‘Emma’.
“Hey, so, um, I spilled some pie all over you.”
For some reason Ben had also sent a picture. It was an angled selfie, showed Emma’s body standing alone in her room, barefoot, clothes askew, and still covered in pie
“Should I- change and shower?”
Emma paused. Obviously? She wasn’t sure when he expected, if they were going to be each other for a few days. Was he never going to use the toilet too?
She texted back a “Yes, of course. Don’t wet my hair.” and got back to the game.
_____________________
As the first tendrils of sunlight began to stretch across the sky, Ben, in Emma's lithe frame, and Emma, housed within Ben's gangly body, stood side by side at the bus stop. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of dew-soaked grass.
They stood in silence, each immersed in the thoughts of their extraordinary circumstance.
"Your brother is quite the early bird, isn't he?" Ben finally broke the silence, his voice soft with Emma's familiar lilt. He was fiddling with a thread on Emma's pink scarf, not meeting her gaze. “He woke me up by diving on top of me at six in the morning.”
Emma giggled, the sound strange in the deeper resonance of Ben's voice. "Yeah, he'll do that. Any trouble after the pie incident?"
Ben blushed. “I swear I didn’t look at anything I shouldn’t have!”
Emma giggled again. “Well you better have cleaned everything you should have! I certainly enjoyed not having to sit down to pee this morning.”
“You mean you’ve seen-”
“What did you expect, you dolt! I’m inside your body!” Emma spread her arms wide, as if showing him who she was.
“It gets bigger…” Ben muttered
“Oh, I know”
“Wait- what–”
Their casual conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their school bus. The familiar yellow behemoth lumbered into view, its tires crunching on the gravel. They climbed aboard, momentarily parting ways to their respective seats.
No sooner had they settled down than a chorus of high-pitched squeals rang through the bus. A gaggle of Emma's friends, a vibrant assortment of high school girls, were waving energetically at Ben.
"Emma! Get over here!" they called out voices bubbling with enthusiasm.
Ben shot Emma a puzzled look, to which she responded with a smirk. "Go on. It will be good for you."
With a sigh that was equal parts resignation and nervous excitement, Ben rose and joined Emma's friends. Their conversation was a whirlwind of girlish chatter, an onslaught of cheerleading stories, crush confessions, and fashion advice. Soon, one of the girls produced a top from a bags, a beautiful, silky number that made Ben's new heart flutter.
"This would look SO good on you, Emma!" one of them gushed, holding the top up against Ben's body. "The color would really bring out your eyes!"
Feeling a warm blush creep up his cheeks, Ben nodded and thanked them, feeling an odd pang of guilt for the deceit. He was not Emma, and yet, he was playing her part, basking in her social glow. A small part of him felt like a fraud. Plus the shirt was… rather revealing. It would show off his cleavage and belly button at once. He tried to turn his head to see what Emma thought, but he couldn’t get a good look.
“I wanted to give it to you for your date with Jake” the girl continued, unabated. “He’s got a thing for midriffs, Jess told me that when she was dating him, he…”
From the back of the bus, Emma was watching the entire spectacle unfold. An unfamiliar twinge of jealousy gnawed at her as she saw Ben - or rather, her body - being swept away into the mirthful chatter of her friends. She was left there, alone, in Ben's body, a spectator in her own life.
But amidst that feeling, there was also a sense of intrigue. Observing Ben navigate the complexities of her social life was enlightening, to say the least. He wasn’t being especially suave, but her friends seemed so understanding and patient with him- her- she should really appreciate them more. An off day? Nobody was batting an eye.
As the bus pulled up at the school, Ben was swept away with Emma’s friends, while Emma followed slowly behind, left alone by everyone. Ben was just beginning to get comfortable with their cheerful chatter when a friend, Amanda, suddenly leaned in and squinted at Ben's face.
"Oh my god, Emma!" Amanda gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. "What happened to your makeup? It looks like a two-year-old attacked your face with crayons."
The group of girls burst into laughter, their high-pitched giggles echoing around the bus. Ben felt heat rushing to his cheeks. He’d tried his hand at a bit of powder that morning, but he didn’t think it was *that* bad. He looked at Emma, who gave him an empathetic shrug. The world of makeup was a mystery to Ben, a chapter in the book of femininity he had never even flipped through.
"Well, we can't let you go around looking like that," Amanda declared, standing up. She took Ben's hand and started pulling him towards the bathroom. "We need to fix this, now."
As Amanda began to work on Ben's face, he watched his reflection in the mirror. It was surreal, seeing Amanda's hands move across his face, feeling the soft brush against his skin, but not recognizing the face that stared back at him. It was a face he was familiar with - Emma's face - but it was also a stranger's.
"Trust me, you'll look so much better after this," Amanda chatted away, her voice a comforting hum in the background. Ben listened to her and the other girls as they talked about the latest school gossip, their plans for the weekend, the new teacher everyone was crushing on.
The chatter was mundane, the kind of stuff Ben usually tuned out, but in this setting, it felt oddly intimate. He felt like he was getting a peek into a secret world, a glimpse into the life Emma led when he wasn't around.
Eventually, Amanda stepped back, her work done. Ben looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were subtly lined, his cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, his lips a soft pink. He looked like Emma. And, strangely enough, he felt like Emma too.
"There," Amanda said, beaming at him. "Much better."
Ben blinked at his reflection, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. But for now, he was just Emma, living her life, one makeup touch-up at a time.
_______________________
Emma, inside Ben's body, could not escape the sensation of strangeness that filled her every step. Even the simple act of walking was different, the additional height and strength both a wonder and a challenge. She found herself bumping into things more often, her perception of her body's dimensions no longer accurate.
The bell for gym class rang just as she was getting a hang of her new stride. She watched as Ben was dragged off into the women’s change room by her classmates, and she sighed and headed into the boys. It was loud and smelly, but she was able to change undisturbed, her new bony fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar fabric of Ben's gym kit.
Basketball was the chosen game of the day, a game Emma had always played, but never particularly excelled at. She was too short to really have much of a chance. But as she stepped onto the court in Ben's body, she felt a surge of energy she had never experienced before. Her fingers closed around the leather ball with a certainty that surprised her. She could even hold the ball in one hand!
The first few minutes of the game were a chaos of movement. Emma watched her classmates as they moved across the court, noting their strategies, the ways they used their bodies to block or pass. Her own body responded in ways she wasn't expecting. It was taller, faster, stronger. Who knew that Ben’s body contained such power?
To her amazement, she found herself actually enjoying the game. She could shoot, pass and defend with ease. Her body moved with a fluidity she had never known, each move instinctive, as though she had been playing this way for years. The ball seemed to follow her command, the hoop an easy target.
As the game continued, Emma became more and more confident. She dodged her opponents, her new height providing her with an advantage she had never had before. She was making shots that she would have only dreamed of making in her own body.
She looked at the scoreboard. Her team was in the lead, and she had been a significant contributor. Her eyes met Ben's - or rather her own - standing on the sidelines, and she saw a look of surprise. Emma smiled, a small sense of pride washing over her.
When the final whistle blew, her team had won, and she found herself surrounded by her cheering classmates, guys slapping on the back, rustling her hair, making her feel proud! They would never do that to her in her own body! It was like all of the distance that she usually felt between herself and guys had disappeared, there was no awkwardness in the touching, no creepiness in the looks. They just slapped her on the back and cheered.
Emma realized then, under the bright lights of the gym, that she was living a day in Ben's shoes that she would never have experienced in her own body. For the first time, she felt a strange sense of gratitude towards the body swap. It wasn't all bad, after all.
__________________
Meanwhile, Ben had been navigating through the labyrinth of Emma's school day, filled with its own unique challenges. There was an increased attention to detail, an amplified sensitivity to social cues, an intricate dance of interactions that he was not familiar with.
When it was time for gym class, something that Ben had always dreaded, he found himself lucky enough to be on the sidelines, designated as one of the scorekeepers.
As the game started, his attention was drawn to his own body on the basketball court. Emma actually seemed to be enjoying herself! And not just enjoying herself, she was good! He watched in awe as she swiped the ball from an opposing player with a quickness he didn’t know his body was capable of, and then sprinted down the court before passing the ball hard and fast to a teammate who scored.
She was good, better than good. In his body, Emma was making shots that neither of them could have done in their own forms. What gives! She was moving with a confidence, a certain ease that was strangely mesmerizing.
He found himself clapping along with the others, cheering each time she scored a point. It was surreal, watching his own body perform so well under someone else's control. At the same time, he felt a kind of jealousy. How come he couldn’t play like that? A team mate whooped as Emma scored again, and high fived his old body as they ran up the court together. Ben didn’t even know that guy’s name. Why couldn’t he be popular like that?
As the final whistle blew, he watched as Emma's team celebrated their victory, watched as his own body was surrounded by cheering classmates, hugged and slapped and lifted up in the air. Ben clapped quietly, feeling strange, but when Emma jogged passed, she beamed at him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
He followed Emma’s friends back into the girls’ change room, and couldn’t help but chuckle as they chatted about “Ben's” newfound skills. One of them even wondered if he was single!
What the hell was going on?
______________________________________
The lunchroom was buzzing with activity as Ben took a seat at Emma's usual spot, surrounded by her friends. He got a salad. That’s the kind of thing Emma usually ate, right?
He found himself laughing and giggling with the other girls. Something inside him had relaxed a bit and he was having fun exaggerating his body’s exploits with them.
“Oh yeah” Ben said, “And his arms are super muscular!”
One of the girls laughed. “Oh shove off it, Emma! Now you’re just being silly!”
“But speaking of big arms…” another girl said with a grin.
Ben looked up, expecting to see Emma in his body. Instead, he was confronted by Jake, a smug, condescending grin on his face.
"Hey Emma," Jake greeted, seeming to dazzle everyone else at the table. "Looking gorgeous today, as usual."
Ben blushed. This was so weird.
“Uh…”
“So, I was thinking after our date on Thursday we could head up to the river. My Dad said I could borrow his BMW for the night. What do you reckon?”
Ewwwww god no! Ben was in no place to be thinking about *that*. He’d only been a girl for 12 hours or so!
“Uh, no, no thank you.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Ben looked down at himself. His lithe body, bare legs, perfect skin. Fuck Jake, he didn’t need to justify himself. The whole point of becoming Emma was so that he could feel what it was like to be socially powerful, daring, bold! And… he could do whatever he wanted!
“Because.. you’re a brainless moron.” he said, a slight smirk coming onto his face. Emma’s face! He was doing it! Emma was dumping Jake!
Jake’s mouth opened slightly, and he frowned, more confused than upset.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re a bully. You’re mean. You’re an ugly, flat footed, stupid, neanderthal, um… dumb… just awful person!”
“What? But I thought-”
“And everybody hates you.” he added, just for good measure.
Jake clenched his jaw.
“So fuck off, actually, yeah fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of. I never want to see you again!”
Ben smirked. That felt good.
Jake's face paled, shock evident in his blue eyes. There was an agonizingly long pause as the words hung in the air, the cafeteria around them a blur of stares and whispers.
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Ben at the center of attention at the table, the girls still wide-eyed and silent.
Ben’s smug grin faded as he looked around the table, seeing the shock on the faces of Emma's friends. Surely it wasn’t that bad? Jake *was* an awful human. Emma would get over it. Besides, it was in her best interests not to end up with somebody like that.
These thoughts did little to help stop the sinking feeling in Ben’s stomach as he saw Emma gaping at him from across the room. She started to storm over to him, then stopped, seeming to change her mind, and scampered out of the room after Jake, tears in her eyes.
Ah.
Yes.
That was kind of mean. Just not to Jake.
To Be Continued.
Ben moved slowly through the bustling halls of Lincoln High, his face buried in the latest issue of Lunar Phantom, a new manga series he'd recently gotten into. He was an ordinary high school boy of medium build, with glasses perched precariously on his nose, hair unruly in a fashion that spoke more of negligence than style. His anime-themed backpack was more an advertisement of his passions than a call to belong.
A sudden shout jolted him from his colorful world of dragons and mythical creatures. It was a voice he knew well. A voice that made his insides shrink and twist. Jake.
Jake towered over the crowd, a behemoth in a letterman jacket, rippling muscles hinted at beneath the cloth. His presence was as chilling as a harsh winter's breeze, causing the sea of students to part as he strode towards Ben, eyes gleaming with a harsh intensity that promised trouble.
"Hey, nerd," Jake sneered, swatting the manga from Ben's hands, sending it flying across the hallway. The bright panels of Lunar Phantom lay scattered on the floor, a stark contrast against the dull linoleum. The hallway fell silent, eyes darting from Ben to Jake and back, anticipation hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.
"Whoops” laughed Jake. “Looks like you dropped your comic book!” Jake smirked at him like it was the funniest thing ever.
Ben reached down to pick up the scattered pages, hands shaking, but Jake's boot descended onto the colorful paper, grinding it under his heel. The snickers of Jake's friends echo’d around them.
“Oi, Jake” a male voice said, gesturing.
Around the corner came a beautiful girl wearing a cheerleader's uniform, and Jake quickly abandoned his mockery. He straightened up, pushing Ben to the side, and strode towards Emma. Left alone in the wake of the bully's departure, Ben clenched his jaw, simmering in a mix of embarrassment and resentment.
Emma was laughing, her blonde hair bouncing as she gestured animatedly at something one of her friends said. A group had gathered around her, attracted by the radiant cheerleader who had a kind word for everyone.
"Hey, Emma," Jake called out, causing Emma to turn towards him. Her blue eyes widened in surprise before being replaced by a warm smile.
"Hey, Jake," she replied, her voice melodic. She adjusted the red and white pompoms in her hand as she greeted him. They must have just come from practice.
The sight of Jake and Emma laughing together caused a sour taste to rise in Ben's mouth. He watched as Jake threw his arm casually over Emma's shoulder, making her giggle. Every smile she flashed at Jake was a jab at Ben's pride.
"Hey, so I was thinking," Jake began, his voice slipping into a softer tone as he leaned in closer to Emma. "Hell-o-saurus is coming out on Thursday. Thought maybe we could check it out together?"
Emma looked surprised for a moment, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Sure,," she replied, "I'd like that."
Ben clenched his fist. Of all the things… He watched as Jake gave Emma a triumphant grin and squeezed her shoulder lightly before he pushed off the lockers and ambled away, leaving a starstruck Emma behind.
Ben waited for a moment, the taste of his own defeat still bitter on his tongue. Finally, gathering his scattered manga and the remaining shreds of his pride, he approached Emma.
"What's so great about him?" Ben grumbled, giving voice to the annoyance he'd been nursing.
Emma jumped, startled. "Oh, Ben!" she said, her surprise quickly replaced by a soft smile. "I didn't see you there."
Ben scowled, his eyes following the figure of the retreating bully. "What do you even see in him?"
Emma shrugged, her smile fading slightly. "Ah, I don’t know. He's... nice, you know?" she replied, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "Confident, protective. He knows what he wants, you know? But isn’t pushy or desperate to get it."
"Yeah, nice," Ben muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm. “And not pushy…” he rubbed his shoulder where Ben had literally pushed him against the lockers. He stared at Emma, part of him wondering what it would be like to be her. How differently people treated them just because of their appearance. If he was her… well, he’d be able to dump Jake at least.
He smirked as he imagined Jake’s face, Emma’s body telling him exactly what Ben wanted.
“Anyway, it was nice to see you, Ben” Emma said as she turned back to her cheerleader friends. They quickly got to gossiping about the upcoming date, leaving Ben totally ignored and alone.
___________________________
Later that evening, Ben sat hunched over his laptop, the soft glow of the screen the only illumination. He’d been clicking around, bored and uninspired, when he came across a forum talking about body swapping. And talking about it *wa*y more seriously then he’d seen before. A role play group?
“NewYou is wild” read the opening post of a thread that caught Ben's attention. A few quick clicks later, he was deep into the thread, engrossed in the accounts shared by the anonymous users, all apparently claiming to have swapped bodies.
“Experienced NewYou for the first time last week with my gym buddy. It was hilarious and weird. Flexing muscles I didn't even know existed and tasting food for the first time without my nut allergy was something else. Having to bench press twice my original weight was cool.”
“Okay, so I swapped with my younger sis, thought it would be a piece of cake. Boy, it was weird. I lost about a foot of height, and everybody treated me real different. She was massively embarrassing in my body too. Bleh! On the upside, I aced a history test for her, so I think she owes me for that.”
“You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I swapped with my cat because my friend Stace dared me to on a sleepover. BAD IDEA! As soon as we swapped, the cat in my old body went kinda crazy. She swiped at me, and do you KNOW how weird it is to get hit by your own hand!?! Stace had to hold her down for us to swap back. 7/5 with rice LOL!”
Thread after thread, post after post, the users' casual discussions about swapping bodies sent Ben's heart racing. They described the shock of waking up in a new body, the strange feeling of looking into a mirror and seeing someone else's face, the sheer thrill of walking in someone else's shoes. Literally!
He had to get in on this.
It turned out downloading the app wasn’t too difficult. You needed to put your phone into developer mode and hook it up to a computer, but essentially you could just download the software from the website and run it. Both people needed to do it on separate phones though, and both needed to agree to swap. That was the tricky part - Ben didn’t know who might want to swap with him of all people.
Unless…
"Emma," Ben mumbled to himself, the idea no longer an impossibility. It was as if the universe was answering his prayers. His mind raced with potential scenarios, all the things he could do. He could finally show Emma the real Jake, he could experience what it was like to be popular, and who knew, maybe he'd enjoy cheerleading. She was always pretty open to trying new things… who knows, maybe she’d do it as a favor?
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out of his house. The evening air was cool against his face, and the usually short journey to Emma's house felt like it took ages. He stood in front of her white picket fence, swallowed his nervousness, and walked up to the front door.
He rapped on the door lightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Emma’s mom answered the door, and with a surprised smile, she let him in. Emma's house had always been a home away from home for Ben when they were younger. The familiar smells and sounds brought back a wave of nostalgia.
Ben found Emma in her room, sitting on her bed, her cheerleader uniform discarded in favor of comfy pajamas. Her room was filled with cheerleading trophies, pop posters, and make-up scattered across her dressing table.
“Oh! Hey, Ben!” Emma exclaimed, surprised but clearly pleased. “What are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Oh, what is it?" Emma asked, sitting up straight, her face filled with curiosity.
"Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Even if it was just for a day?"
She looked at him quizzically, her head tilted to one side. "Um, no, not really. I mean I’ve been curious about–” she stopped talking, “Why are you asking?"
Ben took out his phone, showing her the NewYou app he had just downloaded.
"Because," he said, his heart pounding in his chest, "I think we can."
Emma looked at the screen of Ben's phone, frowning slightly. "NewYou? Is this some sort of game?"
"No, it's not a game," Ben said, shaking his head. "It's an app. It lets two people swap bodies."
He held his breath, waiting for Emma's reaction. She stared at the screen for a moment longer before bursting into laughter. "That's ridiculous! There's no way such a thing is real. You can't seriously believe this, Ben."
Ben didn't waver, didn't retract his statement. He had expected her to be skeptical. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think it's worth a try. Think about it, Emma. What if you could see the world from a different perspective? Wouldn't you like to experience what it's like to be someone else?"
Emma stopped laughing, considering his words. She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
He nodded, keeping his gaze steady on hers. "I am."
A thoughtful silence filled the room as Emma took in his words. Ben could see the gears turning in her head. He knew her well enough to know that she was considering it. Emma was always up for a challenge, always ready to try new things. That was one of the things he admired about her.
Finally, she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Okay, let's say I believe you. And let's say I'm willing to give this a shot. Why would you want to swap bodies with me?"
Ben considered his words carefully. "To see the world differently. You’re popular, you’re cool, people look up to you, and you’re, you know…” he gestured at her.
She giggled. “Hot?”
“I was going to say ‘a girl’, but yeah, that too.”
She punched him on the arm. “Alright Cinderella! You better not ruin this view when I get back to it!” She looked down at herself, stretching her arms out.
Ben exhaled, relief washing over him. He grinned at Emma, excitement buzzing in his veins.
Emma downloaded the app on her phone, following Ben's instructions, then they both opened it and Ben initiated the request to swap. Emma accepted it with a quick tap on her screen.
Their screens flickered for a moment.
“I don’t think anything happened.” said Emma, unsurprised. “God you almost had me going there!”
“No, no, wait” said Ben. “I can feel something.”
His hands and feet had begun tingling, and his stomach felt like it was dropping. Down. Away.
Ben blinked and found himself sitting on the other side of the room.
His phone buzzed. “Swap successful. Enjoy your NewYou!"
Ben gasped and looked down at his hands. Delicate fingers, manicured nails instead of his usual large and bony hands.
"Oh my god," Ben whispered, looking up at Emma. His voice was higher, softer. Emma's voice. His heart raced as he reached up to touch his - no, her - face, feeling the smooth skin beneath his fingers.
He looked at Emma, who seemed to be going through a similar realization. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she looked down at her - his - hands.
"Ben," she said, her voice lower, rougher. Ben's voice. "I think it worked."
Ben could only nod, his mind racing with the possibilities. They had done it. They had swapped bodies! And… easily! How was this not in every media outlet? How was this not all over the internet?!
Still clutching the phone in his dainty hands, Ben stood up, surprised by the effort it took. He looked down. The ground seemed closer than normal, as if he wasn’t standing up at all. He gingerly touched the soft fabric of the sweater he was wearing, and the gentle curve of the waist beneath it. He felt light, free, different. He very deliberately didn’t touch the breasts that were now hanging on his chest, not when their former owner was standing just a few feet away, though he felt them jiggle as he moved.
Emma, standing awkwardly in Ben’s body, snorted. “This is so weird,” she grumbled, adjusting the baggy jeans. She tried to cross her arms, a habit of hers, but found the movement unfamiliar and slightly awkward.
Then, she turned to look at her own body, now occupied by Ben. She raised a hand and brushed her own hair out of her former eyes.
Seeing her own face from an outsider's perspective was strange, almost surreal. She frowned as she gently tracing the contours of the face she knew so well, yet was now so alien. The long lashes, the soft lips, the small mole on the left cheek - everything was the same and yet, so very different.
"Wow," she breathed out, her voice deep and rough. "I didn't realize... I mean, you're… I'm… pretty."
Ben blushed, a pink hue appearing on his - no, her - fair cheeks. It was a strange sensation. His skin tingling, heart pounding in a chest that was no longer his.
“Yeah, you… I mean, I…” Ben stammered, flustered and unsure how to respond to that. “This is a lot to take in.”
There was a pause as the reality of their situation sunk in. They had swapped bodies, an impossible event made reality by an obscure app and a moment of daring curiosity.
"Let's just... take it slow, okay?" Emma finally broke the silence. She gestured to a mirror on the wall. "Maybe we should start with getting used to our new appearances."
And so they did. They stood in front of the mirror, marveling at the reflection that looked back at them. There was Ben, there was Emma. But the reflection of Ben wasn’t where it should be – it was two feet to the left of where it should be! Weird.
Just as they were starting to make peace with their reflections, a knock echoed through the room, followed by a muffled voice. "Emma, honey, dinner's ready."
Emma's - or rather, Ben's - eyes widened. He quickly turned to look at Emma, panic flickering in his gaze. She seemed calmer. “Well, you wanted to experience being me!”
"I know," he said, trying to steady his racing heart. "I have to go. I can do this. I can pretend to be you for one evening."
Emma was silent for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words. "Just... be careful, okay?" she finally said, her tone serious. "And text me if anything happens."
Ben nodded, giving her a small, assuring smile. Then, with a last look at the mirror, he left the room, his new ponytail bouncing with each step he took.
Dinner was a rollercoaster of emotions for Ben. Emma's parents were lovely people, he found, even if her younger brother was quite the pest. He did his best to act like Emma, mimicking her speech patterns and mannerisms. He laughed at her father's puns and helped her mother serve the salad. It was going well until dessert.
As he was reaching for a piece of pie, his sleeve snagged the bowl of cream, sending it splattering all over himself and the tablecloth. A gasp ran through the room, and Ben felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh, Emma!" her mother exclaimed, rushing to wipe the mess with a napkin. "That's not like you at all."
Ben blushed and apologized.
“I guess you better go have a shower and clean up. Don’t worry about it down here.”
Oh.
Oh no.
_______________________
Meanwhile, back at Ben's place, Emma was trying to navigate Ben's life. His parents were nice enough, though they asked a lot of questions about school and her - Ben's - future. She smiled and nodded, providing vague answers when she could. She even played a round of video games with Ben's 13 year old sister. It was a novelty for Emma, who had never been much of a gamer. But, it was nice, she thought. Different, but nice.
They were loading a new level when her phone buzzed. A message from ‘Emma’.
“Hey, so, um, I spilled some pie all over you.”
For some reason Ben had also sent a picture. It was an angled selfie, showed Emma’s body standing alone in her room, barefoot, clothes askew, and still covered in pie
“Should I- change and shower?”
Emma paused. Obviously? She wasn’t sure when he expected, if they were going to be each other for a few days. Was he never going to use the toilet too?
She texted back a “Yes, of course. Don’t wet my hair.” and got back to the game.
_____________________
As the first tendrils of sunlight began to stretch across the sky, Ben, in Emma's lithe frame, and Emma, housed within Ben's gangly body, stood side by side at the bus stop. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of dew-soaked grass.
They stood in silence, each immersed in the thoughts of their extraordinary circumstance.
"Your brother is quite the early bird, isn't he?" Ben finally broke the silence, his voice soft with Emma's familiar lilt. He was fiddling with a thread on Emma's pink scarf, not meeting her gaze. “He woke me up by diving on top of me at six in the morning.”
Emma giggled, the sound strange in the deeper resonance of Ben's voice. "Yeah, he'll do that. Any trouble after the pie incident?"
Ben blushed. “I swear I didn’t look at anything I shouldn’t have!”
Emma giggled again. “Well you better have cleaned everything you should have! I certainly enjoyed not having to sit down to pee this morning.”
“You mean you’ve seen-”
“What did you expect, you dolt! I’m inside your body!” Emma spread her arms wide, as if showing him who she was.
“It gets bigger…” Ben muttered
“Oh, I know”
“Wait- what–”
Their casual conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their school bus. The familiar yellow behemoth lumbered into view, its tires crunching on the gravel. They climbed aboard, momentarily parting ways to their respective seats.
No sooner had they settled down than a chorus of high-pitched squeals rang through the bus. A gaggle of Emma's friends, a vibrant assortment of high school girls, were waving energetically at Ben.
"Emma! Get over here!" they called out voices bubbling with enthusiasm.
Ben shot Emma a puzzled look, to which she responded with a smirk. "Go on. It will be good for you."
With a sigh that was equal parts resignation and nervous excitement, Ben rose and joined Emma's friends. Their conversation was a whirlwind of girlish chatter, an onslaught of cheerleading stories, crush confessions, and fashion advice. Soon, one of the girls produced a top from a bags, a beautiful, silky number that made Ben's new heart flutter.
"This would look SO good on you, Emma!" one of them gushed, holding the top up against Ben's body. "The color would really bring out your eyes!"
Feeling a warm blush creep up his cheeks, Ben nodded and thanked them, feeling an odd pang of guilt for the deceit. He was not Emma, and yet, he was playing her part, basking in her social glow. A small part of him felt like a fraud. Plus the shirt was… rather revealing. It would show off his cleavage and belly button at once. He tried to turn his head to see what Emma thought, but he couldn’t get a good look.
“I wanted to give it to you for your date with Jake” the girl continued, unabated. “He’s got a thing for midriffs, Jess told me that when she was dating him, he…”
From the back of the bus, Emma was watching the entire spectacle unfold. An unfamiliar twinge of jealousy gnawed at her as she saw Ben - or rather, her body - being swept away into the mirthful chatter of her friends. She was left there, alone, in Ben's body, a spectator in her own life.
But amidst that feeling, there was also a sense of intrigue. Observing Ben navigate the complexities of her social life was enlightening, to say the least. He wasn’t being especially suave, but her friends seemed so understanding and patient with him- her- she should really appreciate them more. An off day? Nobody was batting an eye.
As the bus pulled up at the school, Ben was swept away with Emma’s friends, while Emma followed slowly behind, left alone by everyone. Ben was just beginning to get comfortable with their cheerful chatter when a friend, Amanda, suddenly leaned in and squinted at Ben's face.
"Oh my god, Emma!" Amanda gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. "What happened to your makeup? It looks like a two-year-old attacked your face with crayons."
The group of girls burst into laughter, their high-pitched giggles echoing around the bus. Ben felt heat rushing to his cheeks. He’d tried his hand at a bit of powder that morning, but he didn’t think it was *that* bad. He looked at Emma, who gave him an empathetic shrug. The world of makeup was a mystery to Ben, a chapter in the book of femininity he had never even flipped through.
"Well, we can't let you go around looking like that," Amanda declared, standing up. She took Ben's hand and started pulling him towards the bathroom. "We need to fix this, now."
As Amanda began to work on Ben's face, he watched his reflection in the mirror. It was surreal, seeing Amanda's hands move across his face, feeling the soft brush against his skin, but not recognizing the face that stared back at him. It was a face he was familiar with - Emma's face - but it was also a stranger's.
"Trust me, you'll look so much better after this," Amanda chatted away, her voice a comforting hum in the background. Ben listened to her and the other girls as they talked about the latest school gossip, their plans for the weekend, the new teacher everyone was crushing on.
The chatter was mundane, the kind of stuff Ben usually tuned out, but in this setting, it felt oddly intimate. He felt like he was getting a peek into a secret world, a glimpse into the life Emma led when he wasn't around.
Eventually, Amanda stepped back, her work done. Ben looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were subtly lined, his cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, his lips a soft pink. He looked like Emma. And, strangely enough, he felt like Emma too.
"There," Amanda said, beaming at him. "Much better."
Ben blinked at his reflection, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. But for now, he was just Emma, living her life, one makeup touch-up at a time.
_______________________
Emma, inside Ben's body, could not escape the sensation of strangeness that filled her every step. Even the simple act of walking was different, the additional height and strength both a wonder and a challenge. She found herself bumping into things more often, her perception of her body's dimensions no longer accurate.
The bell for gym class rang just as she was getting a hang of her new stride. She watched as Ben was dragged off into the women’s change room by her classmates, and she sighed and headed into the boys. It was loud and smelly, but she was able to change undisturbed, her new bony fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar fabric of Ben's gym kit.
Basketball was the chosen game of the day, a game Emma had always played, but never particularly excelled at. She was too short to really have much of a chance. But as she stepped onto the court in Ben's body, she felt a surge of energy she had never experienced before. Her fingers closed around the leather ball with a certainty that surprised her. She could even hold the ball in one hand!
The first few minutes of the game were a chaos of movement. Emma watched her classmates as they moved across the court, noting their strategies, the ways they used their bodies to block or pass. Her own body responded in ways she wasn't expecting. It was taller, faster, stronger. Who knew that Ben’s body contained such power?
To her amazement, she found herself actually enjoying the game. She could shoot, pass and defend with ease. Her body moved with a fluidity she had never known, each move instinctive, as though she had been playing this way for years. The ball seemed to follow her command, the hoop an easy target.
As the game continued, Emma became more and more confident. She dodged her opponents, her new height providing her with an advantage she had never had before. She was making shots that she would have only dreamed of making in her own body.
She looked at the scoreboard. Her team was in the lead, and she had been a significant contributor. Her eyes met Ben's - or rather her own - standing on the sidelines, and she saw a look of surprise. Emma smiled, a small sense of pride washing over her.
When the final whistle blew, her team had won, and she found herself surrounded by her cheering classmates, guys slapping on the back, rustling her hair, making her feel proud! They would never do that to her in her own body! It was like all of the distance that she usually felt between herself and guys had disappeared, there was no awkwardness in the touching, no creepiness in the looks. They just slapped her on the back and cheered.
Emma realized then, under the bright lights of the gym, that she was living a day in Ben's shoes that she would never have experienced in her own body. For the first time, she felt a strange sense of gratitude towards the body swap. It wasn't all bad, after all.
__________________
Meanwhile, Ben had been navigating through the labyrinth of Emma's school day, filled with its own unique challenges. There was an increased attention to detail, an amplified sensitivity to social cues, an intricate dance of interactions that he was not familiar with.
When it was time for gym class, something that Ben had always dreaded, he found himself lucky enough to be on the sidelines, designated as one of the scorekeepers.
As the game started, his attention was drawn to his own body on the basketball court. Emma actually seemed to be enjoying herself! And not just enjoying herself, she was good! He watched in awe as she swiped the ball from an opposing player with a quickness he didn’t know his body was capable of, and then sprinted down the court before passing the ball hard and fast to a teammate who scored.
She was good, better than good. In his body, Emma was making shots that neither of them could have done in their own forms. What gives! She was moving with a confidence, a certain ease that was strangely mesmerizing.
He found himself clapping along with the others, cheering each time she scored a point. It was surreal, watching his own body perform so well under someone else's control. At the same time, he felt a kind of jealousy. How come he couldn’t play like that? A team mate whooped as Emma scored again, and high fived his old body as they ran up the court together. Ben didn’t even know that guy’s name. Why couldn’t he be popular like that?
As the final whistle blew, he watched as Emma's team celebrated their victory, watched as his own body was surrounded by cheering classmates, hugged and slapped and lifted up in the air. Ben clapped quietly, feeling strange, but when Emma jogged passed, she beamed at him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
He followed Emma’s friends back into the girls’ change room, and couldn’t help but chuckle as they chatted about “Ben's” newfound skills. One of them even wondered if he was single!
What the hell was going on?
______________________________________
The lunchroom was buzzing with activity as Ben took a seat at Emma's usual spot, surrounded by her friends. He got a salad. That’s the kind of thing Emma usually ate, right?
He found himself laughing and giggling with the other girls. Something inside him had relaxed a bit and he was having fun exaggerating his body’s exploits with them.
“Oh yeah” Ben said, “And his arms are super muscular!”
One of the girls laughed. “Oh shove off it, Emma! Now you’re just being silly!”
“But speaking of big arms…” another girl said with a grin.
Ben looked up, expecting to see Emma in his body. Instead, he was confronted by Jake, a smug, condescending grin on his face.
"Hey Emma," Jake greeted, seeming to dazzle everyone else at the table. "Looking gorgeous today, as usual."
Ben blushed. This was so weird.
“Uh…”
“So, I was thinking after our date on Thursday we could head up to the river. My Dad said I could borrow his BMW for the night. What do you reckon?”
Ewwwww god no! Ben was in no place to be thinking about *that*. He’d only been a girl for 12 hours or so!
“Uh, no, no thank you.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Ben looked down at himself. His lithe body, bare legs, perfect skin. Fuck Jake, he didn’t need to justify himself. The whole point of becoming Emma was so that he could feel what it was like to be socially powerful, daring, bold! And… he could do whatever he wanted!
“Because.. you’re a brainless moron.” he said, a slight smirk coming onto his face. Emma’s face! He was doing it! Emma was dumping Jake!
Jake’s mouth opened slightly, and he frowned, more confused than upset.
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re a bully. You’re mean. You’re an ugly, flat footed, stupid, neanderthal, um… dumb… just awful person!”
“What? But I thought-”
“And everybody hates you.” he added, just for good measure.
Jake clenched his jaw.
“So fuck off, actually, yeah fuck off back to whatever sewer you crawled out of. I never want to see you again!”
Ben smirked. That felt good.
Jake's face paled, shock evident in his blue eyes. There was an agonizingly long pause as the words hung in the air, the cafeteria around them a blur of stares and whispers.
With that, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Ben at the center of attention at the table, the girls still wide-eyed and silent.
Ben’s smug grin faded as he looked around the table, seeing the shock on the faces of Emma's friends. Surely it wasn’t that bad? Jake *was* an awful human. Emma would get over it. Besides, it was in her best interests not to end up with somebody like that.
These thoughts did little to help stop the sinking feeling in Ben’s stomach as he saw Emma gaping at him from across the room. She started to storm over to him, then stopped, seeming to change her mind, and scampered out of the room after Jake, tears in her eyes.
Ah.
Yes.
That was kind of mean. Just not to Jake.
To Be Continued.
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In a world where body swapping is commonplace, Aaron and Miranda both find out something was changed when they were born. Now, on nothing more than a hunch, they start to get their own bodies back.
Technology was ever advancing, allowing modifications and things that were once only dreamed of in science fiction. While it wasn’t for the most ethical of reasons, eventually the technology to transfer consciousness between human bodies was created, decommissioned, re-commissioned and tested.
Naturally, the science and technology behind the body swapping was used primarily to assist people with mismatched bodies in some way or another. Though that was only recently. For a longer than it should’ve been time, some people used it when their child wasn’t quite as they were expecting. Parents who wanted a son would often swap with parents who wanted a daughter, and vice versa.
This naturally was stopped as soon as possible. The ramifications to a child’s mental health were too high risk. Especially if they found out what had happened to them as infants. Now, exceptions were made for the health of the infant, but naturally this allowed things to slip through the cracks.
However, by the miracle of humanity pulling its collective head out of its collective ass for once, there were no scars and if a child did go through the process, it was reversable. So, now that the process had become commonplace, everyone was likely to know someone who had at least part of their body swapped. Some used it in place of difficult surgeries, some used it for fun.
But that was the reality of today. In year 20XX where humanity had managed to make something cool for once. The concept of the self was more malleable than it had ever been, more flexible and fluid. Humans were their own playthings now, at least to a point.
But for some, there was a feeling that something wasn’t right. Not in the traditional sense of dysphoria or dysmorphia, those were now easily solvable, but in the sense that something wasn’t as it should’ve been. That nagging feeling of discomfort was just something that Aaron couldn’t shake. At home, at school or anywhere really.
The teenager had initially chalked it up to those awkward growing pains. Since he couldn’t place the discomfort, he had chosen to ignore it. But it was still there, ever present in the back of his mind, and nothing he tried was helping.
At least in school he could distract himself by trying to pay attention to science lectures in class. They weren’t boring by any means; it was just the same things repeated day in and day out. So, he let his eyes wander, his mind following suit, and it settled on someone else in the room.
A girl just a few desks away from him. Miranda was her name and as Aaron’s friends would tease him about. He was down bad. If he wasn’t trying to deal with whatever was going on with that nagging discomfort. He was trying to think of what games Miranda liked, or what she would want to do if he asked her out and said yes.
Miranda, however, was doing the same thing Aaron was. At least she would if having an eye on the back of your head was still legal. They had exchanged exactly one sentence with each other, both teens could remember it perfectly.
“Charizard is overrated.” Aaron had said during one of the many times a teacher had been running late. Which Miranda has overheard.
“Yeah, Blastoise is better.” she had responded, both nodded at each other, then went back to their own business. If clichés were able to physically manifest, it was love at first nerd. It had been over a year since then and they had managed to accidentally pick most of the same classes.
Eventually their friends had had enough and got them sitting right across from each other one lunch time. Hoping that this would actually let them talk to one another. The awkward teen romance was becoming hell for everyone, as even that attempt barely got them talking to each other.
“I don’t know...” Miranda said to one of her friends after another attempt at this. “It feels like... something’s off?”
“I don’t know why?” Aaron said, mirroring that sentiment with his own friends. “Whenever I try to talk the words get stuck in my throat. It’s really annoying.”
“You’re telling me,” Their friends would say, but eventually the attempts stopped. If it was going to happen it would just have to rely on them not getting stuck on what to say. So, they stopped, and eventually say them ever so slowly say more than single word answers to one another.
“Hey...” Aaron eventually said, managing to get words out of his throat. “You uh, look good?’ Miranda looked at him with a million-yard stare in response, like something had just forcefully inserted a Lego brick under her foot.
“Thanks...” she responded, trying her best to not blush. “You, too.” her response got a similar feeling out of Aaron, and neither of them knew why. It just made it more awkward, if that was even possible.
They tried again, but both had that same strange feeling. Not that either of them was hiding something, but something that matched up with that strange discomfort in the back of their minds. Each time they tried to talk outside of a class they just froze.
“Why can’t we talk?” Aaron had written on a note, trying to see if that was going to cause the same thing. He slid it over to Miranda and got a response back.
“No idea, maybe it’s something about our voices?” the note said, with a little drawing of a shrugging cat under it.
“it’s the only thing that makes sense I guess?” Aaron wrote back. The thought of their voices throwing them off was a possibility, but a weird one at that. The bell rang before they could try to piece anything else together, meaning they had to try and focus for the last class of the day.
That night however, both teens decided to look into things. The idea of their voices triggering something uncomfortable was too weird of an idea to shake. A couple hours of searching online brought them to the same conclusion.
“Body and Aspect Swapping. If the process is done incorrectly or too early, the recipients of the swap may experience mild to severe anxiety when meeting with the recipient of the traded aspects.” several articles reported on. The idea of having it done too early was a strange one, but that’s what the restrictions on the process were for. Though, the dates were strange, and both of the teens realized it and opened their emails.
“Did we switch bodies?” they both sent within seconds of the other. “Holy crap we did, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean I was a guy?” Miranda said, not hating the idea and finding some comfort in it that she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I was a girl? Awesome!” Aaron said, something in the back of his mind clicking at that revelation. They quickly started sharing that detail to one another in emails, back and forth. They agreed that this was just something they would’ve found out sooner or later but needed to think of what to do. After all, their parents probably didn’t want to bring it up, let alone have it be brought up to them.
Both teens knew their parents weren’t the type to do it out of malice, that was the one comfort for this. But they wanted the truth. So, it needed to be addressed before the school week resumed.
Each one started the same way with their parents. Asking to speak to their parents in the living room with a bit of printed out information. And for both teens, their parents knew the jig was up the second they saw the papers.
“There were...” one of them would start. The similar story being matched up later. “Complications.” That wasn’t surprising, even if it was before the practice was completely limited to emergencies, swapping infant bodies was used as an attempt to save children.
What no one expected was a mathematic formula of how convoluted the entire procedure was so no laws were violated and all parties involved were kept healthy.
“So... where did the clown come in?” the teens asked, very confused as they looked at pictures taken of the entire procedure.
“The doctor was on call and didn’t have time to wipe the makeup off.” The parents responded, admittedly realizing how bizarre that situation was in hindsight. “It was... a bigger mess than they thought.”
“How many kids were involved in this?” the teens asked, wondering how much of their bodies were on a technical level someone else's.
“We needed at least seven, it was a lot of parts being changed due to blood types and compatibility.” the parents said, taking some time to get the documents out for their kid to look over. “It... was tricky to bring up, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Thanks.” both teens said, looking at the forms.
“So why was I a guy then?” Aaron asked.
“Why a girl?” Miranda asked.
“That... is just how it shook out to be honest.” the parents responded. Trying to find any documents that could help them or their child. “Those parts had to be changed from other kids, and we agreed that if you wanted to change. Well. We'd support you.”
“I need to think on this.” both teens said, turning down the offer of hugs as they went to their rooms.
“How’d yours go?” Aaron asked, trying to not have a kneejerk response. “I... need to think on what to do.”
“Smoother than I expected.” Miranda replied a few minutes later. “Take some time to think, I already know what I want to do.”
“Already?” Aaron responded, frankly surprised his crush had a plan already. “Lucky. No wonder you get better grades.”
“Hey, I can always help you study after this.” Miranda responded. “Just, need to not freeze up when we speak.”
“Yeah, that makes it harder.” Aaron replied.
They went to bed soon after that, with Miranda already knowing what he wanted to do. He fell asleep within a few minutes. Aaron was struggling more, he... didn’t hate his body, but the idea of being a girl was too exciting to deny. Even if they both knew their bodies didn’t affect what their genders were.
It was the most awkward breakfast the next morning. Mostly since the parents were, frankly, expecting more than a quiet acknowledgment of what happened. But the morning went like most others, a tired good morning, breakfast, and both teens sitting in their rooms afterwards.
“I want to swap some things back with you.” Aaron wrote, sending the email before self-doubt could stop it. The teen waited for a while, or rather, what felt like a while. The seconds crawled by with a brutal lack of urgency.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Miranda wrote back. His email response only pausing as he tried to think of something. “Call me Joey now, by the way.”
“So, we’re on the same page,” Aaron responded. “Why Joey?”
“Dunno, seemed to fit.”
“Fair.” Aaron laughed, not bothering with the beating around the bush of trying to justify mistakes on his name. “You seem really prepared for this.”
“Hey, if we get this figured out then we don’t need to worry about it later.” Joey’s response had a big thumbs up on it. “Plus, did your parents have those forms? Mine did and I read through them with breakfast. We can schedule a change easily.”
“Couldn’t focus, but that’s good to know.” Aaron responded, the idea of what names she would pick from were starting to bubble up. “How soon?”
“Next weekend is open to schedule.” Joey replied, sending the website and needed formed. “We just need to agree on what’s being changed.”
“Want your shoulders back?” Aaron said, including a gif of a dog laughing. “Do we have to do this all-in-one go?”
“Hey, it’ll work better for me.” Joey responded. “And I don’t think so? One of my dad's mentioned it could take a couple sessions to get it right.” there was a sigh of relief from Aaron at that. Even if Joey wanted to rush forward, it didn’t sound like he was going to force Aaron to do the same.
“Screw it,” he replied after downloading the forms. “I want the longer hair.”
“Shoulders for hair? Sounds like a fair trade,” was the response. “Anything else?”
“Take my testosterone, please.” Was Aaron’s reply. “And why aren’t we using a chat room?”
“Didn’t think of it,” was Joeys response. Both teens swapping to a chatroom to hash out what was going to be swapped with what.
The parents weren’t ecstatic about it being done, but thankfully if it was reversable now, it would be reversable later. The appointments were made, documents were signed and the next weekend, both teens were ready to go.
Frankly, the procedure had machines right out of a horror movie. But both teens soon were unconscious, and everything started to go to work. Mass was transferred, body shape was altered, and those weird cramps you get in your feet were dealt with.
This was the first time they did this. A general one to allow them to see what they wanted to keep.
Joey loved the fact that now he wasn’t expected to wear skirts. He did so anyway because an entirely new closet of clothes was expensive, and it annoyed people. His hair was short and rough when they both came out of the first session.
Aaron was still picking out her name and had to fight her dads and Joey’s parents to get a dress that no longer fit her crush. Instead of the short buzzcut for simplicities sake, she was now sporting long blonde and pink hair. Right down to her shoulders.
“So...” Aaron started, expecting her voice to give out like it had before when talking to Joey in person. “...what now?” it had been three weeks since the first swap, everything had healed, and Joey had already swooned over Aaron suplexing a bully at school. “I still... like you.”
“Well, we can figure that out.” Joey had grinned, getting Aaron to blush at his smile. “How do you feel about your, old body? I guess?”
“it’s familiar?” Aaron said, trying to hide her blush. “But... not too familiar? Like I can grow into it.” she looked at her hands, a little shocked at how much softer her features had been becoming. Even after the swap her features just got smoother. A doctor mentioned her body was going to be overcompensating for a while on balancing her hormones out.
“Same, I wonder if I'll get taller?” Joey laughed, taking advantage of Aaron looking at her hands to let himself blush. He was definitely feeling the same side effects of the transfer. A level of machismo was hitting him, and aside from noticing girls more, he swore he could take a bear in a fight.
Apparently, this was a near universal male instinct to try and think of an animal they could beat up. Even if logic said they would lose. But it definitely felt better for him as a person. School had been going well, their friends were just glad the awkward teen romance could move past the awkward stage more than worrying about their genders and bodies.
Also seeing the first person to try and start shit wind up with a bloody nose was a very good deterrent. Especially since it was at the first provocation, no one would mess with someone if there was an immediate consequence for doing so.
But the school year went on, and despite the awkward phase staying far longer than anyone would’ve predicted. Eventually Aaron chose Dot as a new name, Joey was still dressing in any way he wanted, skirts and dresses some days but jeans and tank tops other days.
A walking middle finger to the people who still would hold onto his pronouns determining how he was allowed to dress. Meanwhile Dot was going all in on femme fashion, her dads even ordering frilly fancy Lolita style dresses that she would wear on weekends while playing games. The dissonance between her playing Doom and dressed like she was supposed to be a princess was something Joey couldn’t get enough of.
And that was something that, after literally so many events that should’ve pushed them together, it happened at the last possible moment of high school. With their friends celebrating just for the mental relief of not having to picture the two dumbasses not being together when they should've been.
The cream pies being thrown at them was definitely their revenge for the years of indecisiveness after an immediate connection. Everyone was laughing as pie filling was being cleaned off the pair, their friend groups ribbing them endlessly as they finally had their first kiss.
At least, first one that didn’t result in literal butting heads due to a height difference. Or a phone going of, or any other number of perfectly timed mood killers. Both of them were, frankly, happier, even if they didn’t realize they were unhappy before. The weight of discomfort they’d both been experiencing hadn’t bothered them for the last years of high school, and they certainly weren’t going to bother them in the future.
“So... what next?” Dot said, still picking bits of pie out of her pink and blonde hair. She didn’t even remember what she asked her natural hair color to be at this point. “More school? Work?”
“How about an actual first date,” Joey chuckled, knowing his prom suit and dress were going to have stains on them for years. “Unless you want to count when I schooled you at the arcade?”
“You mean where I kicked your ass?” Dot teased, flicking a bit of pie off her dress onto Joey’s shoes. “Someone doesn’t remember how many tokens you spent on me.”
“Fine, rematch!” Joey laughed, sending a bit of pie back at Dot. “And then a date!”
“Works for me!” Dot laughed as they resumed the pie slinging until they were forcibly stopped by their parents.
Technology was ever advancing, allowing modifications and things that were once only dreamed of in science fiction. While it wasn’t for the most ethical of reasons, eventually the technology to transfer consciousness between human bodies was created, decommissioned, re-commissioned and tested.
Naturally, the science and technology behind the body swapping was used primarily to assist people with mismatched bodies in some way or another. Though that was only recently. For a longer than it should’ve been time, some people used it when their child wasn’t quite as they were expecting. Parents who wanted a son would often swap with parents who wanted a daughter, and vice versa.
This naturally was stopped as soon as possible. The ramifications to a child’s mental health were too high risk. Especially if they found out what had happened to them as infants. Now, exceptions were made for the health of the infant, but naturally this allowed things to slip through the cracks.
However, by the miracle of humanity pulling its collective head out of its collective ass for once, there were no scars and if a child did go through the process, it was reversable. So, now that the process had become commonplace, everyone was likely to know someone who had at least part of their body swapped. Some used it in place of difficult surgeries, some used it for fun.
But that was the reality of today. In year 20XX where humanity had managed to make something cool for once. The concept of the self was more malleable than it had ever been, more flexible and fluid. Humans were their own playthings now, at least to a point.
But for some, there was a feeling that something wasn’t right. Not in the traditional sense of dysphoria or dysmorphia, those were now easily solvable, but in the sense that something wasn’t as it should’ve been. That nagging feeling of discomfort was just something that Aaron couldn’t shake. At home, at school or anywhere really.
The teenager had initially chalked it up to those awkward growing pains. Since he couldn’t place the discomfort, he had chosen to ignore it. But it was still there, ever present in the back of his mind, and nothing he tried was helping.
At least in school he could distract himself by trying to pay attention to science lectures in class. They weren’t boring by any means; it was just the same things repeated day in and day out. So, he let his eyes wander, his mind following suit, and it settled on someone else in the room.
A girl just a few desks away from him. Miranda was her name and as Aaron’s friends would tease him about. He was down bad. If he wasn’t trying to deal with whatever was going on with that nagging discomfort. He was trying to think of what games Miranda liked, or what she would want to do if he asked her out and said yes.
Miranda, however, was doing the same thing Aaron was. At least she would if having an eye on the back of your head was still legal. They had exchanged exactly one sentence with each other, both teens could remember it perfectly.
“Charizard is overrated.” Aaron had said during one of the many times a teacher had been running late. Which Miranda has overheard.
“Yeah, Blastoise is better.” she had responded, both nodded at each other, then went back to their own business. If clichés were able to physically manifest, it was love at first nerd. It had been over a year since then and they had managed to accidentally pick most of the same classes.
Eventually their friends had had enough and got them sitting right across from each other one lunch time. Hoping that this would actually let them talk to one another. The awkward teen romance was becoming hell for everyone, as even that attempt barely got them talking to each other.
“I don’t know...” Miranda said to one of her friends after another attempt at this. “It feels like... something’s off?”
“I don’t know why?” Aaron said, mirroring that sentiment with his own friends. “Whenever I try to talk the words get stuck in my throat. It’s really annoying.”
“You’re telling me,” Their friends would say, but eventually the attempts stopped. If it was going to happen it would just have to rely on them not getting stuck on what to say. So, they stopped, and eventually say them ever so slowly say more than single word answers to one another.
“Hey...” Aaron eventually said, managing to get words out of his throat. “You uh, look good?’ Miranda looked at him with a million-yard stare in response, like something had just forcefully inserted a Lego brick under her foot.
“Thanks...” she responded, trying her best to not blush. “You, too.” her response got a similar feeling out of Aaron, and neither of them knew why. It just made it more awkward, if that was even possible.
They tried again, but both had that same strange feeling. Not that either of them was hiding something, but something that matched up with that strange discomfort in the back of their minds. Each time they tried to talk outside of a class they just froze.
“Why can’t we talk?” Aaron had written on a note, trying to see if that was going to cause the same thing. He slid it over to Miranda and got a response back.
“No idea, maybe it’s something about our voices?” the note said, with a little drawing of a shrugging cat under it.
“it’s the only thing that makes sense I guess?” Aaron wrote back. The thought of their voices throwing them off was a possibility, but a weird one at that. The bell rang before they could try to piece anything else together, meaning they had to try and focus for the last class of the day.
That night however, both teens decided to look into things. The idea of their voices triggering something uncomfortable was too weird of an idea to shake. A couple hours of searching online brought them to the same conclusion.
“Body and Aspect Swapping. If the process is done incorrectly or too early, the recipients of the swap may experience mild to severe anxiety when meeting with the recipient of the traded aspects.” several articles reported on. The idea of having it done too early was a strange one, but that’s what the restrictions on the process were for. Though, the dates were strange, and both of the teens realized it and opened their emails.
“Did we switch bodies?” they both sent within seconds of the other. “Holy crap we did, didn’t we?”
“Does that mean I was a guy?” Miranda said, not hating the idea and finding some comfort in it that she didn’t quite understand yet.
“I was a girl? Awesome!” Aaron said, something in the back of his mind clicking at that revelation. They quickly started sharing that detail to one another in emails, back and forth. They agreed that this was just something they would’ve found out sooner or later but needed to think of what to do. After all, their parents probably didn’t want to bring it up, let alone have it be brought up to them.
Both teens knew their parents weren’t the type to do it out of malice, that was the one comfort for this. But they wanted the truth. So, it needed to be addressed before the school week resumed.
Each one started the same way with their parents. Asking to speak to their parents in the living room with a bit of printed out information. And for both teens, their parents knew the jig was up the second they saw the papers.
“There were...” one of them would start. The similar story being matched up later. “Complications.” That wasn’t surprising, even if it was before the practice was completely limited to emergencies, swapping infant bodies was used as an attempt to save children.
What no one expected was a mathematic formula of how convoluted the entire procedure was so no laws were violated and all parties involved were kept healthy.
“So... where did the clown come in?” the teens asked, very confused as they looked at pictures taken of the entire procedure.
“The doctor was on call and didn’t have time to wipe the makeup off.” The parents responded, admittedly realizing how bizarre that situation was in hindsight. “It was... a bigger mess than they thought.”
“How many kids were involved in this?” the teens asked, wondering how much of their bodies were on a technical level someone else's.
“We needed at least seven, it was a lot of parts being changed due to blood types and compatibility.” the parents said, taking some time to get the documents out for their kid to look over. “It... was tricky to bring up, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Thanks.” both teens said, looking at the forms.
“So why was I a guy then?” Aaron asked.
“Why a girl?” Miranda asked.
“That... is just how it shook out to be honest.” the parents responded. Trying to find any documents that could help them or their child. “Those parts had to be changed from other kids, and we agreed that if you wanted to change. Well. We'd support you.”
“I need to think on this.” both teens said, turning down the offer of hugs as they went to their rooms.
“How’d yours go?” Aaron asked, trying to not have a kneejerk response. “I... need to think on what to do.”
“Smoother than I expected.” Miranda replied a few minutes later. “Take some time to think, I already know what I want to do.”
“Already?” Aaron responded, frankly surprised his crush had a plan already. “Lucky. No wonder you get better grades.”
“Hey, I can always help you study after this.” Miranda responded. “Just, need to not freeze up when we speak.”
“Yeah, that makes it harder.” Aaron replied.
They went to bed soon after that, with Miranda already knowing what he wanted to do. He fell asleep within a few minutes. Aaron was struggling more, he... didn’t hate his body, but the idea of being a girl was too exciting to deny. Even if they both knew their bodies didn’t affect what their genders were.
It was the most awkward breakfast the next morning. Mostly since the parents were, frankly, expecting more than a quiet acknowledgment of what happened. But the morning went like most others, a tired good morning, breakfast, and both teens sitting in their rooms afterwards.
“I want to swap some things back with you.” Aaron wrote, sending the email before self-doubt could stop it. The teen waited for a while, or rather, what felt like a while. The seconds crawled by with a brutal lack of urgency.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Miranda wrote back. His email response only pausing as he tried to think of something. “Call me Joey now, by the way.”
“So, we’re on the same page,” Aaron responded. “Why Joey?”
“Dunno, seemed to fit.”
“Fair.” Aaron laughed, not bothering with the beating around the bush of trying to justify mistakes on his name. “You seem really prepared for this.”
“Hey, if we get this figured out then we don’t need to worry about it later.” Joey’s response had a big thumbs up on it. “Plus, did your parents have those forms? Mine did and I read through them with breakfast. We can schedule a change easily.”
“Couldn’t focus, but that’s good to know.” Aaron responded, the idea of what names she would pick from were starting to bubble up. “How soon?”
“Next weekend is open to schedule.” Joey replied, sending the website and needed formed. “We just need to agree on what’s being changed.”
“Want your shoulders back?” Aaron said, including a gif of a dog laughing. “Do we have to do this all-in-one go?”
“Hey, it’ll work better for me.” Joey responded. “And I don’t think so? One of my dad's mentioned it could take a couple sessions to get it right.” there was a sigh of relief from Aaron at that. Even if Joey wanted to rush forward, it didn’t sound like he was going to force Aaron to do the same.
“Screw it,” he replied after downloading the forms. “I want the longer hair.”
“Shoulders for hair? Sounds like a fair trade,” was the response. “Anything else?”
“Take my testosterone, please.” Was Aaron’s reply. “And why aren’t we using a chat room?”
“Didn’t think of it,” was Joeys response. Both teens swapping to a chatroom to hash out what was going to be swapped with what.
The parents weren’t ecstatic about it being done, but thankfully if it was reversable now, it would be reversable later. The appointments were made, documents were signed and the next weekend, both teens were ready to go.
Frankly, the procedure had machines right out of a horror movie. But both teens soon were unconscious, and everything started to go to work. Mass was transferred, body shape was altered, and those weird cramps you get in your feet were dealt with.
This was the first time they did this. A general one to allow them to see what they wanted to keep.
Joey loved the fact that now he wasn’t expected to wear skirts. He did so anyway because an entirely new closet of clothes was expensive, and it annoyed people. His hair was short and rough when they both came out of the first session.
Aaron was still picking out her name and had to fight her dads and Joey’s parents to get a dress that no longer fit her crush. Instead of the short buzzcut for simplicities sake, she was now sporting long blonde and pink hair. Right down to her shoulders.
“So...” Aaron started, expecting her voice to give out like it had before when talking to Joey in person. “...what now?” it had been three weeks since the first swap, everything had healed, and Joey had already swooned over Aaron suplexing a bully at school. “I still... like you.”
“Well, we can figure that out.” Joey had grinned, getting Aaron to blush at his smile. “How do you feel about your, old body? I guess?”
“it’s familiar?” Aaron said, trying to hide her blush. “But... not too familiar? Like I can grow into it.” she looked at her hands, a little shocked at how much softer her features had been becoming. Even after the swap her features just got smoother. A doctor mentioned her body was going to be overcompensating for a while on balancing her hormones out.
“Same, I wonder if I'll get taller?” Joey laughed, taking advantage of Aaron looking at her hands to let himself blush. He was definitely feeling the same side effects of the transfer. A level of machismo was hitting him, and aside from noticing girls more, he swore he could take a bear in a fight.
Apparently, this was a near universal male instinct to try and think of an animal they could beat up. Even if logic said they would lose. But it definitely felt better for him as a person. School had been going well, their friends were just glad the awkward teen romance could move past the awkward stage more than worrying about their genders and bodies.
Also seeing the first person to try and start shit wind up with a bloody nose was a very good deterrent. Especially since it was at the first provocation, no one would mess with someone if there was an immediate consequence for doing so.
But the school year went on, and despite the awkward phase staying far longer than anyone would’ve predicted. Eventually Aaron chose Dot as a new name, Joey was still dressing in any way he wanted, skirts and dresses some days but jeans and tank tops other days.
A walking middle finger to the people who still would hold onto his pronouns determining how he was allowed to dress. Meanwhile Dot was going all in on femme fashion, her dads even ordering frilly fancy Lolita style dresses that she would wear on weekends while playing games. The dissonance between her playing Doom and dressed like she was supposed to be a princess was something Joey couldn’t get enough of.
And that was something that, after literally so many events that should’ve pushed them together, it happened at the last possible moment of high school. With their friends celebrating just for the mental relief of not having to picture the two dumbasses not being together when they should've been.
The cream pies being thrown at them was definitely their revenge for the years of indecisiveness after an immediate connection. Everyone was laughing as pie filling was being cleaned off the pair, their friend groups ribbing them endlessly as they finally had their first kiss.
At least, first one that didn’t result in literal butting heads due to a height difference. Or a phone going of, or any other number of perfectly timed mood killers. Both of them were, frankly, happier, even if they didn’t realize they were unhappy before. The weight of discomfort they’d both been experiencing hadn’t bothered them for the last years of high school, and they certainly weren’t going to bother them in the future.
“So... what next?” Dot said, still picking bits of pie out of her pink and blonde hair. She didn’t even remember what she asked her natural hair color to be at this point. “More school? Work?”
“How about an actual first date,” Joey chuckled, knowing his prom suit and dress were going to have stains on them for years. “Unless you want to count when I schooled you at the arcade?”
“You mean where I kicked your ass?” Dot teased, flicking a bit of pie off her dress onto Joey’s shoes. “Someone doesn’t remember how many tokens you spent on me.”
“Fine, rematch!” Joey laughed, sending a bit of pie back at Dot. “And then a date!”
“Works for me!” Dot laughed as they resumed the pie slinging until they were forcibly stopped by their parents.
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What if athletes could compete in a body perfectly designed for their sport? What if the same athletes had to compete again in a randomly-asssigned body?In the not-too-distant future, technology has advanced to allow people to experience life in any body of their choosing, then return to their own body after six hours. Athletes compete in body-swapping sports to test their skills, their athletic intelligence, and the genetic limits of the human body.
As usual, the tingling subsided as soon as Zella stepped out of the chamber. She looked down over her new body - well by now, she’d spent so much time in this body, pushing it to its physical limits, the lines were starting to blur between this body and her own. She studied her hands.
“You know what,” she said carefully. “Let’s do the longer fingers.”
“You sure?” asked Nix. “These are the ones I gave you for the time trials yesterday.”
“Yep. I was thinking about it last night. They didn't feel quite right.”
Zella turned on her heels and clicked the door to the chamber open again.
“Zel, this isn’t the time to play around,” her coach, Liza, said sternly from over Nix’s shoulder. “Your career is on the line.”
“I’m sure.” Zella said confidently as she lay down on the chamber’s smooth white bench. “Change the fingers.”
Nix tapped on the projection display in front of him and the chamber’s machinery whirred. Zella felt the familiar pins and needles, but only in her fingers this time. Finally, the whirring stopped and the door’s lock clicked open again.
“Perfect,” Zella said, admiring Nix’s work. “Let’s go.”
As Zella, Nix and Liza wove their way through the smooth, gray halls of the stadium’s interior, Zella took deep breaths to calm her anxiety. There was so much at stake. Sure, she’d been a world champion several times over, but the Olympics was a different thing altogether. Earning a cobalt medal at the centuries-old games, could mean lucrative sponsorships, projector broadcasts around the world, becoming a household name. 2084 was only the third year that body decathlon was recognized as an official olympic event, so there wasn’t much precedent to look to for clues about what today’s competition might be like.
Zella was one of the last to arrive at the track. Most of the other athletes were already warming up their competition bodies. Zella scanned the crowd until she locked eyes with Ji Yoon Kim. She instantly recognized the intimidating scowl that the United Korean Peninsula athlete chose for her competition body’s face. The grimace had become something of a calling card and Zella had seen Ji Yoon’s fans wearing caricatures of it on t-shirts.
Ji Yoon and Zella had been neck and neck in the standings for the last two years, alternating first and second place at other world-class body decathlons. Winning the olympic cobalt would solidify one of them as the reigning champion. Zella had sighed with relief when she found out she’d beat Ji Yoon at the time trials yesterday, although it was only by half a second.
Ji Yoon shot Zella a nod of recognition, then went back to bending straight down over her competitive body’s long, muscular legs. Zella noticed that she’d chosen to fill out her body’s shoulders a tiny bit since yesterday. Smart move. She’d seen Ji Yoon lagging a bit during the boulder carry at time trials.
The announcer’s voice sounded through the stadium ordering the athletes to take their places at the starting gates. Cheers roared around the building. Zella scanned the stands looking for Americanadian flags. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed since the civil war, that the Americanadian team could sit right next to the Dixieland team with no violence.
She spotted her family sitting in the front row of the balcony, decked-out in maple leaves and stripes. She caught her wife, Charelle’s eye and blew her a kiss. Her sister, Malya and twelve-year-old nephew, Kit waved excitedly, their faces painted red white and blue. Zella beamed, she knew it’d been difficult for her sister and nephew to travel and she was so grateful to see them there.
Zella took a deep, calming breath as she pushed her feet up against the starting blocks. The organizers had placed her and Ji Yoon beside each other in the center of the track. Zella willed herself not to peek over at her rival
“On your marks,” spoke the announcer through the speakers.
“Get set.” Zella tucked her chin.
“Go!”
Zella breezed through the 200-meter dash, Ji Yoon right beside her. The two of them pulled slightly ahead of the rest of the pack. They worked the sinewy legs of their competition bodies until they reached a sprinting speed of almost thirty miles an hour. They passed the 200-meter finish line and kept sprinting down the track towards the climbing wall. Zella saw Liza waiting with the harness ready.
“You’re doing great,” Liza whispered as she fastened Zella’s buckles. “Remember, clear mind, think only about the competition at hand.”
Zella nodded and hooked her foot into the first rung of the 50-foot wall climb. She pushed up on her competition body’s strong feet and began to ascend. The long, slender fingers Nix built for her were stretching perfectly to reach the holds in the rock. Much better than yesterday. Zella silently celebrated her smart decision as she looked down and saw Ji Yoon climbing ten feet below her.
She focused on the wall, pushing her competition body to move up the rocks as quickly as possible. Zella executed movements she’d never dream of achieving in her natural 45-year-old woman’s body. The proliferation of body swapping sports had been a gift for older athletes and female athletes like Zella. Suddenly, she could compete in a situation where her athletic intelligence was the most important factor, as opposed to her body’s physical traits.
CRISPR, the technology that supported body-swapping sports, had matured in the late 2030s, but it hadn’t been used for recreation until the last decade. When it was first developed, the changes CRISPR made to human DNA were unpredictable. A CRISPR mutation that was meant to cure Multiple Sclerosis left the patient with limb paralysis. A treatment for blindness also caused seizures. Not only were these changes permanent and irreversible, scientists were shocked to find that the mutations lived on into the children of these patients and into the next generation as well.
After some time, CRISPR technology became more precise, but the process was still prohibitively expensive. For the next two decades it was reserved for curing debilitating diseases. Of course there were debates over the ethics of using CRISPR to make yourself taller or more attractive, but these were mostly theoretical. The long-term side effects were still unknown, so people were wary of using it to give themselves bigger breasts or bluer eyes.
In the 2070s, however, a breakthrough made the CRISPR process much faster and more affordable, but the DNA changes made using this method wore off after six hours. The impermanent results almost made this technique even more exciting. A revolution in body experimentation began.
People harnessed the technology for sexual adventures and movie stunts. It was used to help the elderly regain mobility. CRISPR salons sprung up where customers could alter their appearances before a night out on the town. It became illegal to seduce another person in a CRISPR body without disclosure.
The technology was life-changing for the trans and gender-fluid community. Suddenly, trans people could experience life within the exact bodies they were meant to have. This was how Zella’s body designer, Nix, began their career. Every morning and afternoon, Nix stepped into the CRISPR chamber and came out in their androgynous body, expertly fine-tuned after years of tweaks to its programming. Zella knew that it must break their heart to have the changes wear off overnight.
People quickly discovered CRISPR’s profound implications for sports. Most major leagues banned the technology, but side leagues popped up almost immediately. Spectators were fascinated to see what a body perfectly designed for basketball could achieve on the court. And sports like the body decathlon were invented to test the overall limits of the human body.
.
Zella caught a glimpse of her competition face’s triumphant grin on the stadium’s huge projection screen as she rang the bell at the top of the climbing wall. She was comfortably in the lead now, but she chided herself for the display of arrogance as she repelled down. There were still three other events in today’s race - this wasn’t the time to become complacent.
“Great work,” said Liza as she unclipped Zella’s harness. “Keep it steady on the uneven bars. Remember, elbows straight on the spin. You got this.”
Zella nodded with gratitude. She would never stop being impressed by Liza’s versatility as a coach. Like most other elite body decathletes, Zella worked with specialized coaches for each event. It was crucial to have a head coach like Liza who could pull all the events together. Event coaches always pushed the body designer for tweaks that benefited their own sport. The 200-meter dash coach wants long legs, the boulder carry coach wants bulky arms. Liza was well-versed enough that she knew which adjustments would be detrimental to other events. It was Liza’s direction that led Nix to fine-tune Zella’s competition body to work well for everything.
Zella took a deep breath as she chalked her hands for the uneven bar routine. Of all the events, this one challenged her the most. Each athlete had to complete a pre-set gymnastics routine under a referee's watchful eye. There were no extra points given for perfect form, but certain mistakes could mean disqualification. In every body decathlon, several athletes were usually removed due to a missed catch or a single flip instead of a double. Zella spent months practicing the uneven bars with an olympic gymnast’s physique, barely coming close to completing a successful routine. Her own body was nowhere near flexible enough to execute any of the stunts, so it felt unnatural to trust that her competition body would bend that way.
Zella hopped up to grab the high bar, swung up into a handstand and leapt into her first catch on the low bar. It was going well today. The trick felt good, as natural as walking down the street.
Now for the combination. This was always the toughest to execute. The competition body needed long limbs for climbing and running. These weren’t ideal for gymnastics. Zella had suffered a few embarrassing early-career disqualifications for awkwardly whacking her foot against the bar.
She swung into a pike position, bending her legs up towards her face until the tops of her thighs made contact with the bar. For a moment, she panicked that she might lose her balance, but no, just as she’d done a thousand times in practice, she executed a graceful leap to catch the high bar again. Relief washed over Zella as she completed the final spin around the high bar into a perfect double backflip dismount. The worst was over.
Zella was still in first place, with Ji Yoon on her tail. The Australian, Japanese and South American Republic athletes were close behind. They rounded the track to take their seats at the sewing table. The roar of the crowd always hushed to a whisper at this part of the competition. Fans collectively held their breath to watch close-ups of the athletes’ fingers on the projection screen.
Zella completed her first of twenty stitches, right through the middle of the guideline. It had taken her years to learn how to keep her hands from shaking after the demands of the wall climb and the uneven bars.
As Zella sewed, the long fingers that had been such a boon during the wall climb were feeling more and more like a bad decision. Zella and Ji Yoon were seated next to each other, so she could see that her foe was already completing her tenth stitch, while she had only finished four.
A thunderous gasp rang through the stadium. Zella couldn’t help but look up from her work to catch a glance at the projection screen. She saw a close-up of the Australian athlete’s needle popping through the fabric, ever-so-slightly outside the guideline. This meant instant disqualification. Zella’s heart sank with pity, she’d met the Australian athlete last month at the world championships and liked her.
She narrowed her eyes to focus on her own sewing, She could not afford a similar mistake. Ji Yoon was nearly at the end of the guideline now, how was she going so fast? Zella silently cursed herself for her last-minute choice to lengthen her body’s fingers.
Ji Yoon held her completed stitches over her head triumphantly and raced towards the final event. Zella still had four stitches to go. Finally, after what felt like eons, Zella’s needle made its twentieth stitch. She threw the fabric aside and launched herself up from the table.
The body decathlon’s final event was the boulder carry. Ten rocks of increasing weight had to be moved from one basket to another ten feet away. Most athletes went from lightest to heaviest, but Zella preferred to move the heaviest boulder in the middle to avoid getting too fatigued to lift it.
Ji Yoon was already on her third boulder by the time she arrived, so Zella worked quickly to catch up. She had to resist working too quickly, however, as she knew that any injury made to her competition body would show up on her own body as well.
As Zella heaved the heaviest boulder into the second basket, she saw that Ji Yoon was nearly done, with only two boulders left. Of course, Ji Yoon still had her heaviest boulder to go, while Zella had already taken care of hers. It was hard to tell who was in the lead.
Zella passed Ji Yoon carrying her next boulder, but she still had two more left, while Ji Yoon only had one. The fans in the crowd were all on their feet cheering now. Zella raced back to grab her last boulder. Her rival was almost finished. She’d nearly caught up just as Ji Yoon was tipping her last boulder into the basket. The buzzer sounded. Ji Yoon had finished the day’s events 0.7 seconds ahead of her.
Zella hung her head with disappointment. She remembered that the projection cameras were focused on her, so she tried to remain stoic.
Liza appeared by her side and patted her on the shoulder.
“It’s OK, Zel,” she said. “It’s not over yet. There’s still tomorrow.”
—--------------------------
The next morning, the sun was just beginning to rise as Zella and Liza walked through the belly of the stadium to meet Nix at the Americanadian CRISPR chamber.
Nix had already received the olympic committee’s instructions to program today’s body and they were hunched over the machine, entering commands into the control panel. Yesterday, the athletes competed in their own unique competition bodies, but today they would all compete using the same randomly-assigned body. This posed a different test of athletic intelligence; how well could each athlete adapt to a less-than-ideal physique?
To prepare her for this part of the competition, Zella’s training regimen alternated bodies each day. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, she practiced in her ideal competition body. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Nix threw her whatever challenge he could think of - seven-foot-tall bodies, three-foot-tall bodies, toddlers, 75-year-olds, amputees, cancer patients with painful tumors that inhibited her movements, 300-pound bodies, 75-pound bodies - you name it.
The only limits set by the Body Decathlon Federation were that the bodies had to exist within the genetic limits of humanity and they had to theoretically be able to complete the competition. Infants and bodies with extremely low mobility were a no-go.
Zella and Liza waited for Nix to complete the programming instructions, rocking from foot to foot with anticipation. Nix was taking longer than usual today.
“You okay Nix?” asked Liza.
They furrowed their brow. “Um… yep. Almost done, I think.”
“We’ve got lots of time, so don’t rush.” Liza assured them.
“Mhm,” they grunted, running their hands over their chin-length hair nervously as they squinted at the control panel. This confusion was uncharacteristic of Nix. Zella had been working with them for nearly five years and she’d never seen anything phase them.
“Okay. Ready.” Nix finally said and pressed the button that opened the chamber’s door.
Zella entered, the machinery whirred and she felt the tingling rush throughout her body. After twenty minutes, the door clicked open and she stepped out into the room.
Liza and Nix took Zella’s new body in. “A ten-year-old boy?” Liza said, dumbfounded.
Zella looked down and patted her new hands up and down her new body’s smooth chest. “Really? So easy.”
Four years ago, the day-two body at the Olympics had been a fifty-year-old woman with severe scoliosis. Zella was expecting something more challenging. Sure, children’s lack of fine motor control made sewing more difficult and the boulders would be challenging, but overall, a ten-year-old’s body would be a cinch.
Liza shrugged. “If that’s what the instructions said, I’m not going to argue. Let’s go to the field.”
The team moved towards the doorway. Nix drew in their breath as if they wanted to say something. Liza and Zella whirled around.
“What is it, Nix?” Zella asked.
“Um… it’s just... “ Nix looked conflicted. Their eyes darted back and forth between Zella and Liza. “Never mind.”
“If you made a mistake programming the body, now is the time to say so. We can still go back and fix it.” Liza said sternly.
“No, it’s not that at all,” they promised. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
Liza rolled her eyes and the three of them began to walk briskly towards the track.
Zella’s team arrived at the starting gates. Now, the only visual difference between the athletes were the flags on their uniforms. Zella always thought it strange that she was a world-famous athlete, but her fans never saw her real face when she competed. Zella saw that most of the other athletes and coaches wore the same bewildered expression at the assignment of the ten-year-old’s body.
Again, the announcer called the athletes to take their places. Zella and Ji Yoon nodded their identical faces towards each other as they lined up at their blocks.
“On your marks…” the announcer called. “Get set… Go!”
The athletes launched into the 200-meter dash. Zella felt her heart rate speed up as she ran. It was more intense than usual, like her heart was about to leap up into her throat. She compensated by taking bigger, gulping breaths into her diaphragm.
Although the body’s heart was racing, its other muscles felt slower than they should, as if she was trying to run under water. She was at the front of the pack, but she didn’t feel like she was performing at her peak. Ji Yoon raced just behind her, also gasping for air.
As Zella and Ji Yoon crossed the 200-meter finish line, a loud gasp resounded around the stadium. Zella glanced backwards to see that the Japanese athlete had tripped and fallen mid-race. Falls during the uneven bars were common, but a fall during the sprint was unheard of. Something about today’s body was not as it seemed.
“Keep your head in the game,” Liza reminded Zella as she fastened her climbing harness.
Zella began scaling the wall. She made what should have been an easy reach for a hold above her head, but found that her hand missed its target. Her legs refused to push straight up off the footholds. She began to take smaller steps, using rungs that were close together. Her heart continued to pound as she climbed. She wondered if Nix had made a mistake in the programming. But if that were true, all the other athletes would be ahead of her by now and she was still leading the pack by a hair.
After several agonizing minutes of struggle, Zella rang the bell at the top of the wall. She looked up at her family in the stands and saw her nephew, Kit staring down at her, his eyes wide with shock.
The moment she locked eyes with Kit, she knew.
Her mind flashed back over memories of anxious, late-night phone calls with her sister, Malya. The hours they’d spent poring over clinical test reports, trying to decipher the doctors’ notes on Kit’s condition. CRISPR treatments had improved his prognosis, but they couldn’t cure him entirely. He still lived with the unique challenge of having a neuromuscular disability that was invisible at first glance. Malya worried he’d be bullied on the playground for his clumsiness. People were always confused as to why he couldn’t do the same physical activities as his classmates.
Zella realized that today’s competition body must be burdened with a neuromuscular disease similar to Kit’s. As she repelled down the wall, she mulled over what to do with this information. She guessed that most of the other contestants hadn’t caught on yet and would continue to use the body as if it were a typical ten-year-old’s. She could use this to her advantage.
“Something seems off today, but keep pushing,” Liza said as she unfastened Zella’s harness. Ji Yoon had also just made it down the wall, so they were tied for first.
“I got this.” Zella nodded confidently and jogged away from the climbing wall towards the next event.
The gymnastics event at day two of the body decathlon took place on a balance beam instead of the uneven bars. The upper-body strength required to complete the uneven bar routine was too difficult for most bodies. Still, Zella knew she’d have to be cautious.
She clenched her muscles and pushed herself up onto the beam. Pausing for a moment, she considered how she might complete the first spin. She decided to copy a technique she’d seen Kit use on the playground. She took a deep breath in and focused her eyes on a spot in front of her before attempting the trick. Slowly and carefully, Zella executed the move. Success. Only two more moves to go.
She rose to her feet and lifted her arms over her head. Now for the split jump. Remembering that there were no points given for perfect form, Zella completed the smallest amount of movement allowed. Even then, she had to strain against the cramps in her legs and she wobbled as she landed on the beam.
All around her, other athletes were falling off their beams and disqualifying themselves. Beside her, Ji Yoon wind-milled her arms, nearly losing her balance after the leap.
Last was the cartwheel dismount. She recalled the summer when Kit first received his diagnosis. One of the early clues that something in his body was amiss was that his elbows kept giving out when he attempted a cartwheel. Zella copied the form she’d seen him use with bent arms. She sank low to absorb the shock in her legs as she landed.
Suddenly, the crowd let out a loud “ooh!” The projection screen showed an instant replay of the French athlete painfully smacking their shoulder as he failed his dismount.
Only five athletes remained in the competition when Zella sat down at the sewing tables. She knew she’d have to be extremely cautious to avoid disqualification.
She picked up her needle and thread. It took six tries today to thread the needle because her hand kept slipping and missing the hole. Slowly, painstakingly, she made the first stitch, then another. She moved at a snail’s pace, watching as other athletes attempted to rush through and were disqualified. Ji Yoon seemed to sense that slow and steady was the best bet as well and she crept along with Zella. By the time they finished their twenty stitches, nearly thirty minutes later, the two rivals were the only athletes left in the competition.
Zella put down her sewing and jogged with dread towards the boulder carry. How would she ever complete it? The day-two boulders were lighter than yesterday’s, but it would still be an inconceivable challenge.
Zella mulled over the problem. Maybe rolling the boulders would be easier. There were no rules against rolling, but this would use up so much extra time. It was a risky move, but it would pay off immensely if she managed to preserve her strength and Ji Yoon tapped out early. Zella heard the crowd muttering with confusion as she began to roll the smallest boulder.
By the time her first boulder was in the basket, Ji Yoon was already way ahead of her, carrying her third. Zella began to worry that she’d guessed wrong.
She snapped back to attention and scolded herself for focusing on Ji Yoon. There was no point in looking at what her competitor was doing. She’d decided on her strategy and she would stick with it.
By the time Zella had moved her third boulder, things were looking as though they might take a turn. Ji Yoon was working on her fifth boulder and struggling miserably. For the sixth, she began to copy Zella’s method of rolling them. Zella managed to catch up and the two athletes rolled their sixth boulders into their baskets at exactly the same time.
Zella decided that now was the time to try the heaviest boulder. She knew she’d have to save some strength for the end. She heaved against the rock with all her might and it barely moved an inch. Ji Yoon passed her with the seventh-heaviest boulder. Little by little, she rolled it across the field.
When Zella finally tipped the heaviest boulder into the basket, Ji Yoon was working on her ninth boulder, struggling against its weight. Her competitor stopped mid-field, her hands on her thighs, painting with exhaustion and Zella caught up. Both athletes tipped their ninth boulders into the basket at the same time. They were tied again with one more rock to go, although Ji Yoon still had her heaviest. Both athletes trudged back to the first basket.
Ji Yoon braced her body against the boulder. It didn’t budge. She’d used up all her strength and couldn’t push any longer. Zella realized that the cobalt medal was hers, just as long as she could move the last boulder. Her body was so sore by now, it felt like her arms and legs might fall out of their sockets. She stretched the fingers of her hands in the same way she’d seen Kit do it. She steeled herself and began to move the last rock.
It took all her might, every last ounce of strength she had to roll it across the floor. She passed Ji Yoon and saw tears running down her competitor’s face as she tried in vain to catch up. Zella heaved and heaved, taking breaks to breath and stretch out her fingers. She worried that Ji Yoon might regain her strength at any minute.
In the stands, the Americanadian fans were on their feet, fervently waving their flags and cheering. She saw Kit yelling, “Go! Go!” She knew she had to win this for him. If she could do this, it would help prove that he could live any kind of life he wanted. Determined, she made the final heave and the boulder landed in the basket. Zella collapsed on the ground, exhausted but elated. She’d won.
Liza and Nix rushed onto the field to join her. They lifted her up with her arms around their shoulders and helped her walk to the first-place podium. Someone brought out a cobalt medal and hung it around her neck.
“I wanted to tell you!” Nix whispered breathlessly in her ear as she waved to the cameras. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but I knew it was against the rules.”
“I know,” Zella nodded. “I figured it out, I guess.”
Nix and Liza raised Zella’s exhausted arms over her head in triumph. Ji Yoon nodded at her respectfully. She would take home the silver for advancing the farthest of any other competitors.
Zella’s family made their way down from the stands and joined her on the field. Her wife embraced her and kissed her deeply. She knelt down to meet Kit’s eye and the two looked at each other knowingly for a long time.
“I’m proud of you, Auntie,” Kit said.
“I’m proud of you,” said Zella and she pulled him in for a hug.
As usual, the tingling subsided as soon as Zella stepped out of the chamber. She looked down over her new body - well by now, she’d spent so much time in this body, pushing it to its physical limits, the lines were starting to blur between this body and her own. She studied her hands.
“You know what,” she said carefully. “Let’s do the longer fingers.”
“You sure?” asked Nix. “These are the ones I gave you for the time trials yesterday.”
“Yep. I was thinking about it last night. They didn't feel quite right.”
Zella turned on her heels and clicked the door to the chamber open again.
“Zel, this isn’t the time to play around,” her coach, Liza, said sternly from over Nix’s shoulder. “Your career is on the line.”
“I’m sure.” Zella said confidently as she lay down on the chamber’s smooth white bench. “Change the fingers.”
Nix tapped on the projection display in front of him and the chamber’s machinery whirred. Zella felt the familiar pins and needles, but only in her fingers this time. Finally, the whirring stopped and the door’s lock clicked open again.
“Perfect,” Zella said, admiring Nix’s work. “Let’s go.”
As Zella, Nix and Liza wove their way through the smooth, gray halls of the stadium’s interior, Zella took deep breaths to calm her anxiety. There was so much at stake. Sure, she’d been a world champion several times over, but the Olympics was a different thing altogether. Earning a cobalt medal at the centuries-old games, could mean lucrative sponsorships, projector broadcasts around the world, becoming a household name. 2084 was only the third year that body decathlon was recognized as an official olympic event, so there wasn’t much precedent to look to for clues about what today’s competition might be like.
Zella was one of the last to arrive at the track. Most of the other athletes were already warming up their competition bodies. Zella scanned the crowd until she locked eyes with Ji Yoon Kim. She instantly recognized the intimidating scowl that the United Korean Peninsula athlete chose for her competition body’s face. The grimace had become something of a calling card and Zella had seen Ji Yoon’s fans wearing caricatures of it on t-shirts.
Ji Yoon and Zella had been neck and neck in the standings for the last two years, alternating first and second place at other world-class body decathlons. Winning the olympic cobalt would solidify one of them as the reigning champion. Zella had sighed with relief when she found out she’d beat Ji Yoon at the time trials yesterday, although it was only by half a second.
Ji Yoon shot Zella a nod of recognition, then went back to bending straight down over her competitive body’s long, muscular legs. Zella noticed that she’d chosen to fill out her body’s shoulders a tiny bit since yesterday. Smart move. She’d seen Ji Yoon lagging a bit during the boulder carry at time trials.
The announcer’s voice sounded through the stadium ordering the athletes to take their places at the starting gates. Cheers roared around the building. Zella scanned the stands looking for Americanadian flags. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed since the civil war, that the Americanadian team could sit right next to the Dixieland team with no violence.
She spotted her family sitting in the front row of the balcony, decked-out in maple leaves and stripes. She caught her wife, Charelle’s eye and blew her a kiss. Her sister, Malya and twelve-year-old nephew, Kit waved excitedly, their faces painted red white and blue. Zella beamed, she knew it’d been difficult for her sister and nephew to travel and she was so grateful to see them there.
Zella took a deep, calming breath as she pushed her feet up against the starting blocks. The organizers had placed her and Ji Yoon beside each other in the center of the track. Zella willed herself not to peek over at her rival
“On your marks,” spoke the announcer through the speakers.
“Get set.” Zella tucked her chin.
“Go!”
Zella breezed through the 200-meter dash, Ji Yoon right beside her. The two of them pulled slightly ahead of the rest of the pack. They worked the sinewy legs of their competition bodies until they reached a sprinting speed of almost thirty miles an hour. They passed the 200-meter finish line and kept sprinting down the track towards the climbing wall. Zella saw Liza waiting with the harness ready.
“You’re doing great,” Liza whispered as she fastened Zella’s buckles. “Remember, clear mind, think only about the competition at hand.”
Zella nodded and hooked her foot into the first rung of the 50-foot wall climb. She pushed up on her competition body’s strong feet and began to ascend. The long, slender fingers Nix built for her were stretching perfectly to reach the holds in the rock. Much better than yesterday. Zella silently celebrated her smart decision as she looked down and saw Ji Yoon climbing ten feet below her.
She focused on the wall, pushing her competition body to move up the rocks as quickly as possible. Zella executed movements she’d never dream of achieving in her natural 45-year-old woman’s body. The proliferation of body swapping sports had been a gift for older athletes and female athletes like Zella. Suddenly, she could compete in a situation where her athletic intelligence was the most important factor, as opposed to her body’s physical traits.
CRISPR, the technology that supported body-swapping sports, had matured in the late 2030s, but it hadn’t been used for recreation until the last decade. When it was first developed, the changes CRISPR made to human DNA were unpredictable. A CRISPR mutation that was meant to cure Multiple Sclerosis left the patient with limb paralysis. A treatment for blindness also caused seizures. Not only were these changes permanent and irreversible, scientists were shocked to find that the mutations lived on into the children of these patients and into the next generation as well.
After some time, CRISPR technology became more precise, but the process was still prohibitively expensive. For the next two decades it was reserved for curing debilitating diseases. Of course there were debates over the ethics of using CRISPR to make yourself taller or more attractive, but these were mostly theoretical. The long-term side effects were still unknown, so people were wary of using it to give themselves bigger breasts or bluer eyes.
In the 2070s, however, a breakthrough made the CRISPR process much faster and more affordable, but the DNA changes made using this method wore off after six hours. The impermanent results almost made this technique even more exciting. A revolution in body experimentation began.
People harnessed the technology for sexual adventures and movie stunts. It was used to help the elderly regain mobility. CRISPR salons sprung up where customers could alter their appearances before a night out on the town. It became illegal to seduce another person in a CRISPR body without disclosure.
The technology was life-changing for the trans and gender-fluid community. Suddenly, trans people could experience life within the exact bodies they were meant to have. This was how Zella’s body designer, Nix, began their career. Every morning and afternoon, Nix stepped into the CRISPR chamber and came out in their androgynous body, expertly fine-tuned after years of tweaks to its programming. Zella knew that it must break their heart to have the changes wear off overnight.
People quickly discovered CRISPR’s profound implications for sports. Most major leagues banned the technology, but side leagues popped up almost immediately. Spectators were fascinated to see what a body perfectly designed for basketball could achieve on the court. And sports like the body decathlon were invented to test the overall limits of the human body.
.
Zella caught a glimpse of her competition face’s triumphant grin on the stadium’s huge projection screen as she rang the bell at the top of the climbing wall. She was comfortably in the lead now, but she chided herself for the display of arrogance as she repelled down. There were still three other events in today’s race - this wasn’t the time to become complacent.
“Great work,” said Liza as she unclipped Zella’s harness. “Keep it steady on the uneven bars. Remember, elbows straight on the spin. You got this.”
Zella nodded with gratitude. She would never stop being impressed by Liza’s versatility as a coach. Like most other elite body decathletes, Zella worked with specialized coaches for each event. It was crucial to have a head coach like Liza who could pull all the events together. Event coaches always pushed the body designer for tweaks that benefited their own sport. The 200-meter dash coach wants long legs, the boulder carry coach wants bulky arms. Liza was well-versed enough that she knew which adjustments would be detrimental to other events. It was Liza’s direction that led Nix to fine-tune Zella’s competition body to work well for everything.
Zella took a deep breath as she chalked her hands for the uneven bar routine. Of all the events, this one challenged her the most. Each athlete had to complete a pre-set gymnastics routine under a referee's watchful eye. There were no extra points given for perfect form, but certain mistakes could mean disqualification. In every body decathlon, several athletes were usually removed due to a missed catch or a single flip instead of a double. Zella spent months practicing the uneven bars with an olympic gymnast’s physique, barely coming close to completing a successful routine. Her own body was nowhere near flexible enough to execute any of the stunts, so it felt unnatural to trust that her competition body would bend that way.
Zella hopped up to grab the high bar, swung up into a handstand and leapt into her first catch on the low bar. It was going well today. The trick felt good, as natural as walking down the street.
Now for the combination. This was always the toughest to execute. The competition body needed long limbs for climbing and running. These weren’t ideal for gymnastics. Zella had suffered a few embarrassing early-career disqualifications for awkwardly whacking her foot against the bar.
She swung into a pike position, bending her legs up towards her face until the tops of her thighs made contact with the bar. For a moment, she panicked that she might lose her balance, but no, just as she’d done a thousand times in practice, she executed a graceful leap to catch the high bar again. Relief washed over Zella as she completed the final spin around the high bar into a perfect double backflip dismount. The worst was over.
Zella was still in first place, with Ji Yoon on her tail. The Australian, Japanese and South American Republic athletes were close behind. They rounded the track to take their seats at the sewing table. The roar of the crowd always hushed to a whisper at this part of the competition. Fans collectively held their breath to watch close-ups of the athletes’ fingers on the projection screen.
Zella completed her first of twenty stitches, right through the middle of the guideline. It had taken her years to learn how to keep her hands from shaking after the demands of the wall climb and the uneven bars.
As Zella sewed, the long fingers that had been such a boon during the wall climb were feeling more and more like a bad decision. Zella and Ji Yoon were seated next to each other, so she could see that her foe was already completing her tenth stitch, while she had only finished four.
A thunderous gasp rang through the stadium. Zella couldn’t help but look up from her work to catch a glance at the projection screen. She saw a close-up of the Australian athlete’s needle popping through the fabric, ever-so-slightly outside the guideline. This meant instant disqualification. Zella’s heart sank with pity, she’d met the Australian athlete last month at the world championships and liked her.
She narrowed her eyes to focus on her own sewing, She could not afford a similar mistake. Ji Yoon was nearly at the end of the guideline now, how was she going so fast? Zella silently cursed herself for her last-minute choice to lengthen her body’s fingers.
Ji Yoon held her completed stitches over her head triumphantly and raced towards the final event. Zella still had four stitches to go. Finally, after what felt like eons, Zella’s needle made its twentieth stitch. She threw the fabric aside and launched herself up from the table.
The body decathlon’s final event was the boulder carry. Ten rocks of increasing weight had to be moved from one basket to another ten feet away. Most athletes went from lightest to heaviest, but Zella preferred to move the heaviest boulder in the middle to avoid getting too fatigued to lift it.
Ji Yoon was already on her third boulder by the time she arrived, so Zella worked quickly to catch up. She had to resist working too quickly, however, as she knew that any injury made to her competition body would show up on her own body as well.
As Zella heaved the heaviest boulder into the second basket, she saw that Ji Yoon was nearly done, with only two boulders left. Of course, Ji Yoon still had her heaviest boulder to go, while Zella had already taken care of hers. It was hard to tell who was in the lead.
Zella passed Ji Yoon carrying her next boulder, but she still had two more left, while Ji Yoon only had one. The fans in the crowd were all on their feet cheering now. Zella raced back to grab her last boulder. Her rival was almost finished. She’d nearly caught up just as Ji Yoon was tipping her last boulder into the basket. The buzzer sounded. Ji Yoon had finished the day’s events 0.7 seconds ahead of her.
Zella hung her head with disappointment. She remembered that the projection cameras were focused on her, so she tried to remain stoic.
Liza appeared by her side and patted her on the shoulder.
“It’s OK, Zel,” she said. “It’s not over yet. There’s still tomorrow.”
—--------------------------
The next morning, the sun was just beginning to rise as Zella and Liza walked through the belly of the stadium to meet Nix at the Americanadian CRISPR chamber.
Nix had already received the olympic committee’s instructions to program today’s body and they were hunched over the machine, entering commands into the control panel. Yesterday, the athletes competed in their own unique competition bodies, but today they would all compete using the same randomly-assigned body. This posed a different test of athletic intelligence; how well could each athlete adapt to a less-than-ideal physique?
To prepare her for this part of the competition, Zella’s training regimen alternated bodies each day. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, she practiced in her ideal competition body. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Nix threw her whatever challenge he could think of - seven-foot-tall bodies, three-foot-tall bodies, toddlers, 75-year-olds, amputees, cancer patients with painful tumors that inhibited her movements, 300-pound bodies, 75-pound bodies - you name it.
The only limits set by the Body Decathlon Federation were that the bodies had to exist within the genetic limits of humanity and they had to theoretically be able to complete the competition. Infants and bodies with extremely low mobility were a no-go.
Zella and Liza waited for Nix to complete the programming instructions, rocking from foot to foot with anticipation. Nix was taking longer than usual today.
“You okay Nix?” asked Liza.
They furrowed their brow. “Um… yep. Almost done, I think.”
“We’ve got lots of time, so don’t rush.” Liza assured them.
“Mhm,” they grunted, running their hands over their chin-length hair nervously as they squinted at the control panel. This confusion was uncharacteristic of Nix. Zella had been working with them for nearly five years and she’d never seen anything phase them.
“Okay. Ready.” Nix finally said and pressed the button that opened the chamber’s door.
Zella entered, the machinery whirred and she felt the tingling rush throughout her body. After twenty minutes, the door clicked open and she stepped out into the room.
Liza and Nix took Zella’s new body in. “A ten-year-old boy?” Liza said, dumbfounded.
Zella looked down and patted her new hands up and down her new body’s smooth chest. “Really? So easy.”
Four years ago, the day-two body at the Olympics had been a fifty-year-old woman with severe scoliosis. Zella was expecting something more challenging. Sure, children’s lack of fine motor control made sewing more difficult and the boulders would be challenging, but overall, a ten-year-old’s body would be a cinch.
Liza shrugged. “If that’s what the instructions said, I’m not going to argue. Let’s go to the field.”
The team moved towards the doorway. Nix drew in their breath as if they wanted to say something. Liza and Zella whirled around.
“What is it, Nix?” Zella asked.
“Um… it’s just... “ Nix looked conflicted. Their eyes darted back and forth between Zella and Liza. “Never mind.”
“If you made a mistake programming the body, now is the time to say so. We can still go back and fix it.” Liza said sternly.
“No, it’s not that at all,” they promised. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
Liza rolled her eyes and the three of them began to walk briskly towards the track.
Zella’s team arrived at the starting gates. Now, the only visual difference between the athletes were the flags on their uniforms. Zella always thought it strange that she was a world-famous athlete, but her fans never saw her real face when she competed. Zella saw that most of the other athletes and coaches wore the same bewildered expression at the assignment of the ten-year-old’s body.
Again, the announcer called the athletes to take their places. Zella and Ji Yoon nodded their identical faces towards each other as they lined up at their blocks.
“On your marks…” the announcer called. “Get set… Go!”
The athletes launched into the 200-meter dash. Zella felt her heart rate speed up as she ran. It was more intense than usual, like her heart was about to leap up into her throat. She compensated by taking bigger, gulping breaths into her diaphragm.
Although the body’s heart was racing, its other muscles felt slower than they should, as if she was trying to run under water. She was at the front of the pack, but she didn’t feel like she was performing at her peak. Ji Yoon raced just behind her, also gasping for air.
As Zella and Ji Yoon crossed the 200-meter finish line, a loud gasp resounded around the stadium. Zella glanced backwards to see that the Japanese athlete had tripped and fallen mid-race. Falls during the uneven bars were common, but a fall during the sprint was unheard of. Something about today’s body was not as it seemed.
“Keep your head in the game,” Liza reminded Zella as she fastened her climbing harness.
Zella began scaling the wall. She made what should have been an easy reach for a hold above her head, but found that her hand missed its target. Her legs refused to push straight up off the footholds. She began to take smaller steps, using rungs that were close together. Her heart continued to pound as she climbed. She wondered if Nix had made a mistake in the programming. But if that were true, all the other athletes would be ahead of her by now and she was still leading the pack by a hair.
After several agonizing minutes of struggle, Zella rang the bell at the top of the wall. She looked up at her family in the stands and saw her nephew, Kit staring down at her, his eyes wide with shock.
The moment she locked eyes with Kit, she knew.
Her mind flashed back over memories of anxious, late-night phone calls with her sister, Malya. The hours they’d spent poring over clinical test reports, trying to decipher the doctors’ notes on Kit’s condition. CRISPR treatments had improved his prognosis, but they couldn’t cure him entirely. He still lived with the unique challenge of having a neuromuscular disability that was invisible at first glance. Malya worried he’d be bullied on the playground for his clumsiness. People were always confused as to why he couldn’t do the same physical activities as his classmates.
Zella realized that today’s competition body must be burdened with a neuromuscular disease similar to Kit’s. As she repelled down the wall, she mulled over what to do with this information. She guessed that most of the other contestants hadn’t caught on yet and would continue to use the body as if it were a typical ten-year-old’s. She could use this to her advantage.
“Something seems off today, but keep pushing,” Liza said as she unfastened Zella’s harness. Ji Yoon had also just made it down the wall, so they were tied for first.
“I got this.” Zella nodded confidently and jogged away from the climbing wall towards the next event.
The gymnastics event at day two of the body decathlon took place on a balance beam instead of the uneven bars. The upper-body strength required to complete the uneven bar routine was too difficult for most bodies. Still, Zella knew she’d have to be cautious.
She clenched her muscles and pushed herself up onto the beam. Pausing for a moment, she considered how she might complete the first spin. She decided to copy a technique she’d seen Kit use on the playground. She took a deep breath in and focused her eyes on a spot in front of her before attempting the trick. Slowly and carefully, Zella executed the move. Success. Only two more moves to go.
She rose to her feet and lifted her arms over her head. Now for the split jump. Remembering that there were no points given for perfect form, Zella completed the smallest amount of movement allowed. Even then, she had to strain against the cramps in her legs and she wobbled as she landed on the beam.
All around her, other athletes were falling off their beams and disqualifying themselves. Beside her, Ji Yoon wind-milled her arms, nearly losing her balance after the leap.
Last was the cartwheel dismount. She recalled the summer when Kit first received his diagnosis. One of the early clues that something in his body was amiss was that his elbows kept giving out when he attempted a cartwheel. Zella copied the form she’d seen him use with bent arms. She sank low to absorb the shock in her legs as she landed.
Suddenly, the crowd let out a loud “ooh!” The projection screen showed an instant replay of the French athlete painfully smacking their shoulder as he failed his dismount.
Only five athletes remained in the competition when Zella sat down at the sewing tables. She knew she’d have to be extremely cautious to avoid disqualification.
She picked up her needle and thread. It took six tries today to thread the needle because her hand kept slipping and missing the hole. Slowly, painstakingly, she made the first stitch, then another. She moved at a snail’s pace, watching as other athletes attempted to rush through and were disqualified. Ji Yoon seemed to sense that slow and steady was the best bet as well and she crept along with Zella. By the time they finished their twenty stitches, nearly thirty minutes later, the two rivals were the only athletes left in the competition.
Zella put down her sewing and jogged with dread towards the boulder carry. How would she ever complete it? The day-two boulders were lighter than yesterday’s, but it would still be an inconceivable challenge.
Zella mulled over the problem. Maybe rolling the boulders would be easier. There were no rules against rolling, but this would use up so much extra time. It was a risky move, but it would pay off immensely if she managed to preserve her strength and Ji Yoon tapped out early. Zella heard the crowd muttering with confusion as she began to roll the smallest boulder.
By the time her first boulder was in the basket, Ji Yoon was already way ahead of her, carrying her third. Zella began to worry that she’d guessed wrong.
She snapped back to attention and scolded herself for focusing on Ji Yoon. There was no point in looking at what her competitor was doing. She’d decided on her strategy and she would stick with it.
By the time Zella had moved her third boulder, things were looking as though they might take a turn. Ji Yoon was working on her fifth boulder and struggling miserably. For the sixth, she began to copy Zella’s method of rolling them. Zella managed to catch up and the two athletes rolled their sixth boulders into their baskets at exactly the same time.
Zella decided that now was the time to try the heaviest boulder. She knew she’d have to save some strength for the end. She heaved against the rock with all her might and it barely moved an inch. Ji Yoon passed her with the seventh-heaviest boulder. Little by little, she rolled it across the field.
When Zella finally tipped the heaviest boulder into the basket, Ji Yoon was working on her ninth boulder, struggling against its weight. Her competitor stopped mid-field, her hands on her thighs, painting with exhaustion and Zella caught up. Both athletes tipped their ninth boulders into the basket at the same time. They were tied again with one more rock to go, although Ji Yoon still had her heaviest. Both athletes trudged back to the first basket.
Ji Yoon braced her body against the boulder. It didn’t budge. She’d used up all her strength and couldn’t push any longer. Zella realized that the cobalt medal was hers, just as long as she could move the last boulder. Her body was so sore by now, it felt like her arms and legs might fall out of their sockets. She stretched the fingers of her hands in the same way she’d seen Kit do it. She steeled herself and began to move the last rock.
It took all her might, every last ounce of strength she had to roll it across the floor. She passed Ji Yoon and saw tears running down her competitor’s face as she tried in vain to catch up. Zella heaved and heaved, taking breaks to breath and stretch out her fingers. She worried that Ji Yoon might regain her strength at any minute.
In the stands, the Americanadian fans were on their feet, fervently waving their flags and cheering. She saw Kit yelling, “Go! Go!” She knew she had to win this for him. If she could do this, it would help prove that he could live any kind of life he wanted. Determined, she made the final heave and the boulder landed in the basket. Zella collapsed on the ground, exhausted but elated. She’d won.
Liza and Nix rushed onto the field to join her. They lifted her up with her arms around their shoulders and helped her walk to the first-place podium. Someone brought out a cobalt medal and hung it around her neck.
“I wanted to tell you!” Nix whispered breathlessly in her ear as she waved to the cameras. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but I knew it was against the rules.”
“I know,” Zella nodded. “I figured it out, I guess.”
Nix and Liza raised Zella’s exhausted arms over her head in triumph. Ji Yoon nodded at her respectfully. She would take home the silver for advancing the farthest of any other competitors.
Zella’s family made their way down from the stands and joined her on the field. Her wife embraced her and kissed her deeply. She knelt down to meet Kit’s eye and the two looked at each other knowingly for a long time.
“I’m proud of you, Auntie,” Kit said.
“I’m proud of you,” said Zella and she pulled him in for a hug.
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