Chapter 5 – A Disastrous Drama
Rae's POV
Note to self: never suggest meeting in the East Building again.
It smelled like mop water and broken dreams. The lights flickered like they were auditioning for a horror film. And for some reason, the floor was suspiciously sticky in random patches.
Lucas—me, technically—stood beside me, one hand hovering awkwardly near the door to the drama room. He was still catching his breath after what we’d just seen.
Well. More like what we thought we saw.
“I swear I saw someone,” he muttered.
I crossed my arms. “You mean your reflection?”
“I mean behind me. Or next to me. Or maybe I’m just sleep-deprived and losing my mind.”
“Welcome to my life.”
Lucas gave me a look. “Okay, comedian. Let’s agree on something—no more mirrors unless we absolutely have to.”
“Fine by me. I’ve been avoiding mine all day. I nearly brushed my teeth with lotion this morning just so I didn’t have to look up.”
He laughed, and the tension between us loosened a little.
Even with all the weirdness, it was nice to talk to him like this. Like we weren’t stuck in the world’s most inconvenient Freaky Friday spin-off.
“So,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, “why did you ask to meet here anyway? You could’ve just called.”
Lucas hesitated, then pulled something from the front pocket of my hoodie.
A folded piece of paper.
He handed it to me without a word.
I opened it.
My handwriting. Definitely mine.
But I didn’t remember writing this.
Dear Future Me (Or Anyone Else Reading This),
If this is in your hands, you’ve probably noticed something is off. Maybe you’re not in your own body anymore. Maybe things don’t make sense. Either way, this is your heads-up: pay attention. Not just to mirrors or reflections or spooky stuff. Pay attention to each other. There’s a reason this is happening. Don’t waste it.
Also, if Lucas is reading this—yes, I liked you. Yes, I said it. Now do something about it. Or I swear I’ll haunt you.
– Rae
I stared at it for a long second, heat rising up my neck. “I… I didn’t write this.”
Lucas squinted. “It’s your handwriting.”
“I know! But I didn’t… write it. I mean, I don’t remember writing it. Unless I wrote it and blacked out?”
He tilted his head. “You blackout confess to people often?”
“Shut up,” I mumbled, folding the note quickly and shoving it into my jeans pocket. Which, of course, were his jeans. Ugh. Everything was so twisted.
He grinned, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“Anyway,” I said, “did you want to meet just to show me my own accidental love letter, or…?”
Lucas sobered. “No. There’s something else. Something about your shoulder.”
My heart stuttered. “What about it?”
“You dislocated it last year, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Did anyone ever figure out how?”
I frowned. “I told everyone I tripped during gym. Why?”
He shifted on his feet. “Because I saw something today. Something that didn’t make sense. I was brushing my teeth—don’t laugh, I was brushing—and I felt this weird pain in my shoulder, out of nowhere. Same spot as your old injury. It felt like…”
“Like it popped?”
He blinked. “Yeah.”
We stared at each other.
“Lucas,” I said slowly, “are you saying that our bodies are reacting to memories? Like, physical memory?”
“I don’t know. But if I had to guess… maybe the swap isn’t just mental. Maybe it’s emotional. Or… something more connected. Like, what if we’re not just in each other’s bodies—we’re inside everything the other person carries?”
That weird ache in my chest returned. I looked down at my hands—his hands—and realized they were trembling slightly.
“What are we even supposed to do with that?” I whispered.
Lucas opened his mouth to respond—but the hallway light above us popped and fizzled out. We both flinched.
“Nope,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go. I’ve maxed out my tolerance for creepy schools and accidental feelings.”
He followed me out without argument.
Once we were outside, the warm night air hit us like a blanket. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been until we were off school grounds.
Lucas stretched his arms above his head. “You know, for a day where we’ve technically done zero homework, we’ve still done way too much thinking.”
“Agreed.”
We walked in silence for a few blocks. The kind of silence that wasn’t awkward, just… full. Like there was too much to say and not enough words to say it.
Finally, Lucas broke it.
“So… are you gonna talk to Jamie?”
I groaned. “Ugh. Do I have to?”
“You’re me. People expect me—you—to be blunt.”
“That’s not the same as being a jerk.”
“No, but it means you don’t get to chicken out.”
“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one who has to tell someone you don’t like them in their crush’s body.”
He winced. “Okay, yeah, that does sound bad.”
“And awkward. And probably scarring.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Want me to do it?”
I blinked. “What?”
“I mean, technically, I am him. For now. I could take the bullet. Let him down gently.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You’d really do that?”
He shrugged. “Well, you did promise not to ruin my life. I figure it’s only fair I return the favor.”
My heart did something weird. It fluttered. That was the only word I could think of. A flutter. Like a page turning too fast.
“Thanks,” I said, softer than before. “Really.”
He smiled. “Besides, I get to tell Jamie that he deserves someone who actually likes him, not someone who keeps putting herself last.”
That one hit deeper than I expected.
We reached my house—his house, now—and I stopped on the porch.
Lucas paused, too. “Guess I’ll head back.”
I nodded. “Don’t forget to plug in your phone. It dies fast.”
“Right. And don’t forget to actually eat something tomorrow.”
“Rude. I eat.”
He gave me a look.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I snack. I will attempt a meal.”
Lucas grinned. “Progress.”
I lingered on the step. “Lucas?”
He turned.
“This isn’t… I mean… thanks. For not making this weirder than it already is.”
He smiled. “It’s weird. But it’s not awful. I mean, I’ve learned a lot about you today.”
“Like how often I complain in my Notes app?”
“Exactly. And how many pictures of food you have without actually eating it.”
“Hey!”
He laughed. “Goodnight, Rae.”
“Night.”
He turned and started walking away.
I watched him go.
And then I went inside, closed the door quietly, and leaned against it.
My phone buzzed.
A new message.
From Lucas.
Lucas: By the way, I didn’t hate the note.
My heart thudded.
Before I could respond, another message came in.
Lucas: I think I wrote one too. Check under your bed.
I froze.
Slowly, I knelt down, reached under the bed, and pulled out a small notebook.
My fingers trembled as I opened the cover.
The first page read:
If Rae ever finds this, it means she’s me now. And if she’s me… she deserves to know the truth.