I rubbed my eyes and groaned, half-expecting to open them and find this whole "being a girl" thing was a bad joke.
Nope. Still a girl. Still Chloe. My reflection in the mirror didn't even look like me anymore. Where the hell had my broad shoulders gone? My legs were now so... toned in a way that made me feel like a giraffe trying to walk on stilts.
I mean, seriously, what happened to me?
I glanced down at my body. I swear I could almost hear my pants laughing at me. The waistband was tighter than my old jeans—probably because my hips were now actually hips. Not a joke. My body was 100% female. And the fact that I had no idea what I was doing made it 200% awkward.
"Okay, Chloe," I said to myself, forcing some confidence into my voice. I hadn't been Chase for less than a day, but I could already tell my former self would be having a panic attack.
This wasn't about how much I missed my old life (I definitely did, by the way). This was about surviving the day. I had no choice but to figure out how to... you know, be a girl.
As if that was a simple task.
I rubbed my hands through my long hair, which was now a shiny waterfall of black curls that cascaded down my back. I looked like I should be in a shampoo commercial. How the hell was I supposed to handle this without making it a full-blown disaster?
After a quick mental breakdown, I finally pulled together something resembling an outfit—a typical schoolgirl uniform: a white button-up shirt, a plaid skirt, and knee-high socks. I had no idea if this was what all girls wore to school, but it seemed like a safe bet.
Still, I couldn't help but feel like I was playing dress-up. My legs felt exposed, my skirt was shorter than I was comfortable with, and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing with my hands.
I shook my head. No point panicking over this, I thought to myself. The figure flashed in my mind.
The clock's ticking. Literally.
I grabbed my bag and bolted downstairs, feeling like I was stumbling through a reality I didn't quite belong to. The house was... exactly the same.
The same faded yellow walls, the cozy kitchen with chipped cabinets, the smell of Mom's coffee brewing in the background. Nothing had changed on the surface. But everything felt... off. It was like looking at a photo and realizing the people in it weren't who you remembered, even though the picture never changed.
As I entered the kitchen, my eyes instinctively went to the wall of family photos. And that's when it hit me—harder than anything else since I woke up in this messed-up world. Every single photo of me, Chase Martinez, had been replaced. There was no trace of me in my old life—no record of my rebellion, no evidence of my existence before today. All the pictures on the wall were of Chloe—the girl standing in front of the same damn counter, holding a fake smile.
The photo of me at a school dance, the one where I had my arm around Noah, laughing with my friends, was now a photo of her. The same event, but now she was wearing a bright smile and a perfect ponytail, instead of the scowl I remembered having in that picture.
My heart pounded. What the hell happened here?
It didn't make sense. There wasn't a trace of the boy I had been. No sign of who I really was. I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat, but all I could do was force a casual shrug. Chloe had lived here—had always lived here. I was just a distant thought, like some kid who might as well have never existed.
"Good morning, sweetie," Mom said, her voice warm as always, never changing. She was standing at the counter, preparing what looked like the same breakfast I'd seen her make a thousand times. "How'd you sleep?"
I had to fight the urge to recoil at how perfectly natural this conversation felt. Like nothing had changed. Like I had always been Chloe.
"Uh, fine," I mumbled, staring down at my hands. I couldn't stop looking at them. Girl hands. It was surreal. "You, uh, you sleep okay?"
Mom hummed as she flipped the pancakes, and I thought for a second she might burst into song. "I slept like a log, thank you for asking, sweetheart! Did you finish your homework last night at Annie's place? Or do I need to remind you to do it this morning?"
Wait—homework? No one had mentioned anything about schoolwork to me. In fact, I could barely remember the last time I'd been given any responsibility at all. Was I supposed to know what kind of student Chloe was? What if I wasn't prepared for whatever was coming? What if I bombed everything?
More importantly: Annie's house?! That quiet girl from English class that never spoke to me once? Wasn't there a party, or did that never exist in this world.
Focus, Chase–ah, goddammit. Chloe. This is going to be hell to get used to.
"Yeah, um, homework is fine," I replied weakly, rubbing my temple. This felt like too much all at once.
Mom smiled at me, like everything was normal. "Great. You know, you should really try to focus on your science grades, Chloe. Remember what we talked about last week? That project you're doing with Noah? I think you should focus on that, especially. You've got a real knack for that stuff."
I froze. Noah? Project?
Last week? What? Had I really—no, Chloe—had really worked with Noah on something? There was no way she'd been talking to him like this before. This was... this was new. Right? But Mom's face showed no signs of doubt, like this was just another Tuesday morning conversation.
"Yeah, yeah, the project," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll get right on it. Thanks, Mom."
Mom was still looking at me, her eyes filled with that same gentle love. "You're welcome, sweetie. You know I'm always here if you need help."
It took everything I had not to throw up from the overwhelming weirdness of it all. How could this woman love me like this? How could she look at me like I was her daughter when I was just... someone else? I was beginning to wonder if I was going crazy—or if I had been crazy all along.
As I turned to grab my jacket from the hook by the door, I caught another glimpse of the family photo wall. More pictures of Chloe. Pictures of school dances, soccer games, family vacations—Chloe had been in them all. She'd been here the whole time, this perfect, smiling version of me that wasn't even me.
I tried to breathe through it. I had to hold it together. I couldn't let Mom see how much I was freaking out.
I picked up my backpack, adjusted my skirt—because apparently, that was a thing now—and put on the best smile I could manage. "Alright, I'm off to school, Mom. I'll see you later."
"Have a good day, sweetheart," she called after me. "Don't forget your valuables!"
"Thanks!" I called back, already halfway out the door. But as I stepped outside and shut the door behind me, the weight of it all hit me again.
I stood there on the porch for a moment, the door clicking softly behind me, before reality came crashing down like a freight train. My chest tightened, and I felt dizzy.
This was my life now. I wasn't Chase anymore. I wasn't the guy I used to be. I was... her. Chloe. And the worst part? No one seemed to notice. No one saw anything wrong. They all acted like I had always been Chloe, like I had always belonged in this body. How was I supposed to live like this?
Shaking my head, I forced myself to move. There was no time to dwell on it now. School awaited. And school, apparently, was an entirely new kind of hell when you were a girl.
I walked briskly down the sidewalk, my new skirt swishing with every step. The air felt colder than I remembered it, biting at my exposed skin. I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders, trying to ignore the constant feeling that I was being watched.
I made my way to school in a hurry, heart pounding with each step. The whole thing felt like a bad dream, one I couldn't escape.
When I finally reached the school gates, I was already running late, but I had bigger problems than being tardy. The second I stepped through the gates, I could feel it—the stares. It wasn't like they were just looking at me. It was worse. It was like they were judging me.
Boys from my old friend group—no, my old friend group—were looking at me like they didn't recognize me. They weren't laughing, they weren't nodding their heads in friendly acknowledgment. They just stared. And some of them even smiled.
A boy named Thomas—who had always been the class clown—shot me a weird smile that had me almost tripping over my feet. I swear he winked. What the hell?
I could feel my cheeks reddening, and I wanted to disappear. This was too much. Too awkward. I wanted to call out to them, to ask why they were looking at me like I was some stranger, but I couldn't bring myself to. I was... I wasn't Chase anymore. I didn't know how to deal with this version of myself.
Still, I tried to push through the awkwardness. I made my way to class, walking as confidently as I could manage.
Just as I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with a familiar face.
"Noah!" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He looked at me, and for a split second, his eyes widened like he had seen a ghost. But then he recovered, and there was that same weird, shy smile.
"Chloe! Hey." He took a step back, like he was giving me space, like... like I was a stranger.
We were supposed to be best friends—at least, I had been best friends with him. He was my Noah—the guy I could always count on. But now? He was acting like I was someone he didn't know.
I felt a twist in my stomach. This wasn't the Noah I used to hang out with. This Noah was different. Hesitant. Shy. And I hated it.
"Uh, sorry about that," I said, awkwardly. "I was running late and didn't see you."
Noah nodded, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "No problem. So, uh, how's everything going?" His voice was quieter than usual, like he wasn't sure how to talk to me now that I was... Chloe.
I opened my mouth, about to say something, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Saved by the bell.
"Sorry," I muttered, pulling it out of my bag.
It was a text from Lily.
"Hey Chloe, wanna hang out at lunch today? Let's check out what's new at the cafeteria."
I froze. Lily? The same Lily that owned the sketchbook I lost? That Lily whose blond hair kept coming up in my mind late at night?
I glanced up at Noah, my heart thumping in my chest. Oh God, I'd never told anyone about that. Not even Noah. But now? Was she... was Lily interested in me? She was asking me to eat lunch at her.
Hold on. In this world, she's actually a friend? But was she... flirting? Or is this something girls do all the time? My mind raced with panic.
"Uh... yeah, we can definitely do that," I typed back, trying to play it cool. But internally, I was freaking out.
"Who's that?" Noah asked, his voice awkward again. I realized, with a sudden jolt, that he was staring at my phone, his eyes flickering between it and me, like he was waiting for some kind of response.
"Lily," I said, shrugging, trying to act casual. "She asked if I wanted to grab lunch together later."
Noah's smile faded for a fraction of a second. I could see it, just barely, before he plastered it back into place. "Oh. Right. Cool."
Cool? What was that supposed to mean? Why did he seem so... off? Was he jealous?
I tried not to let the thought settle in my mind, but there it was. A tiny, uncomfortable feeling that made my skin crawl.
As I walked into class, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything had changed. The boys in the hallway kept sneaking glances at me, and the teachers... Oh God, the teachers. They treated me like I was a different person altogether.
Ms. Walters, my history teacher, looked at me like I was some stranger when I walked into the classroom. She gave me a long, appraising look before finally nodding toward my desk. "Good morning, Chloe," she said, like she'd been calling me that for years. "Take your seat, please."
I sat down silently, still feeling like it was all a dream.
I couldn't help but feel like I was being examined under a microscope. Chloe, the perfect student. Was this what she had been like all along? Did I have to live up to this flawless image of... well, her?
I mean, perfect Chloe probably remembered her homework assignments two weeks in advance and knew every single teacher's name on a first-name basis, right? Meanwhile, I could barely remember my own name right now.
My stomach twisted into knots, my mind racing with the terrifying thought that I had to somehow embody the ideal version of this girl. I couldn't even get my skirt to stay in place properly!
I really didn't belong here. I looked like I was about to faint or throw up or both at the same time.
Maybe I'd just... leave? Or, you know, maybe hide under the desk for the next few hours until everyone forgot I existed. That seemed like a solid plan.
And then, I saw her. Lily.
She appeared at the door with a gentle smile, her blond hair falling in soft waves around her face, catching the sunlight just right. It was like something out of a shampoo commercial, and for a second, I found myself... staring. Really staring.
Her hair was so pretty. How was it that perfect? It looked like someone had carefully hand-painted each strand to shine just so. I barely remembered how to breathe.
"Hey, Chloe!" she said, giving me a soft wave.
I snapped back to reality, my face turning beet-red. Smooth, Chase. Real smooth.
"Uh, hey, Lily," I muttered, realizing I probably looked like an idiot. She didn't seem to notice, though. She smiled at me, all sweet and shy.
"Have you finished the math assignment?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her glasses catching the light.
Suddenly, all the panic I'd been feeling went into overdrive again. Lily. Me. Talking. Oh God. What do I even say?
I gulped and forced a smile. "Totally. No problem with that at all." I had no idea what the assignment was, but hey, what's the worst that could happen? Right? Right?
And then I got distracted again, watching her hair bounce as she moved, realizing I'd never noticed how gorgeous it was before.
"Gosh, you're so smart, Chloe," Lily continued, a smile playing on her face. "By the way, what's your thoughts on the drawing in my sketchbook? Is it any good?"
Oh, I thought, barely feeling the heat in my cheeks now. So that wasn't completely written off in this world.
This... was going to be a disaster.