The following is a re-write to the original chapter two. I received some very good constructive criticism of the original chapter and realized a few things about the story. I've come to find there is a much longer story arch for this character than I originally thought when I started writing chapter one. The original version of chapter two rushed into conflicts and character points that need a longer time to develop. Due to that I've gone back and revised this chapter.
As I said in the first chapter, (though I have been writing for a long time) this is my first attempt at this genre. I originally thought there should be some type of explicit material in each chapter as to give the reader what they're looking for. I've come to find from reader feedback that that's not necessarily the case. There's a lot of conflicting views on the subject. I've decided I'm not going to force the explicit material into each chapter. There might be some and there might not be. I hope you enjoy the story enough to continue reading in the chapters that won't have any and that you enjoy the moments in the chapters that do.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this revised chapter two. Thank you for reading!
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I wake up the next morning feeling just as hazy as the night before. What a dream! It felt so real. As my eyes open to the ceiling I can tell something is off immediately. My vision isn't blurry. I reach over to my end table and sure enough, no glasses. I close my eyes, wondering if this dream could still be happening. There is no way a dream can last for two days. I open my eyes and look at the wall across the foot of my bed.
Taylor Swift is staring back at me.
It's not a dream. I hesitantly bring my hand to my chest, wondering what to expect, though I know what the outcome is going to be. I can feel them there even without touching them. Sure enough, my hand lands on a firm round breast. I look down and see the same white spaghetti strapped top I had been wearing when I went to sleep.
It wasn't a dream. I am still Ashley.
I sit up in bed and look around. Yesterday I didn't really take a good look at the room as I spent most of the day hyperventilating. It's a basic teenager's room. A few posters along the walls, a desk scattered with junk, a dresser scattered with more junk, clothes all over the floor. If I woke up again as Ashley, did that mean I was going to be her permanently? And if I am in her body, why don't I have any of her memories? Did I take someone else over? Where is the
real
Ashley? These thoughts start to hurt my head so I quickly push them away.
At least this morning no one is calling me to breakfast. My birthday (Ben's birthday) was on a Saturday, which means my first day as Ashley (yesterday) must've been a Sunday. So today is probably Monday, meaning no middle-aged people/parents to deal with. I get out of bed and quietly open the door, peeking my head out.
Silence.
Maybe I'm alone. I walk down the hallway and peek around the corner to the living room. No one is there.
"Hello?" I call out knowing no one is going to answer. Sure enough, no one does. Again, I realize I didn't get a chance to take a good look at the place yesterday in my state of panic. It's a living room and dining room with a conjoined kitchen. There's a corner couch with a TV on the wall across. On the left of the couch is a table with chairs where we ate breakfast yesterday. To the left of that is a counter that opens up into a kitchen. The kitchen is what can be seen in the hallway, the living room hidden from view until you're already in the room.
On the wall with the TV are some shelves with picture frames. I give them a look. Who knows, maybe this will give me some much-needed information. I can see what looks like pictures of the middle-aged...I mean my parents when they were younger. More pictures show the boy from yesterday and me. Now I know he is older judging from the pictures. However, nothing gives me any information that is useful. They seem like a typical family with a typical daughter.
Except I'm not a typical daughter. I'm a thirty year old man trapped in the body of an eighteen year old girl. It was the wish I made at the Bethesda Fountain that got me here. Today I'll make a visit and see what I can find. What else can I do? I can't tell anyone what's happening; they'll think I'm crazy. I can't change back as far as I know. I don't even know how I changed in the first place. I know I'm starting college in three weeks and I have a crush on a boy named Brian (or at least that's what my friends tell me). I remember the events of last night and shake my head. Masturbating as Ashley wasn't exactly what I thought it would be. Thoughts of girls seemed to do nothing for me but the moment Brian popped in my head the floodgates opened. I think I'm going to refrain from touching myself for a while. At least until I figure this out.
A voice in the back of my mind says,
It did feel good though, didn't it?
Well yes, it did. It really did, but that doesn't make it any less weird. It must be something with my new body, female hormones running through me and whatnot. I wonder if the real Ashley is trapped in my body somewhere. It must be, right? There's no way Ben Telaney no longer exists. Yesterday I found that I (Ben) didn't have a Facebook profile, but that could be because of anything. Maybe in this alternate reality Ben Telaney never created a profile. Maybe I (I mean he) made it private. Maybe a million things. My parents were listed as single though. That is weird.
I did wish to be a new person and here I am. I guess I should be happy. A part of me is and a part of me isn't. The thing that's freaking me out the most is that I have no idea who I am. What are my dreams? What do I like, what do I dislike? Jeez, even the question "what am I supposed to do today" freaks me out. I have no idea.
Ah, my phone! I can check my phone. I go back to my room and grab it off the side table. I pull up the calendar and find today empty. Either I have nothing to do or Ashley wasn't diligent on filling in her appointments. I mean, how much can an eighteen-year-old girl really need to do? She doesn't have a job (thank you Facebook for that information), school is in summer break, I'm free to do anything I want.
So what do I want to do?
Isn't that the million-dollar question? I decide to take a shower. I actually forgot to take one yesterday. In my confusion I just left for the day and didn't even think. Come to think of it, I didn't even go to the bathroom yesterday. I know this because suddenly I have to pee like I've never had to pee before. I go to the bathroom and sit on the toilet and start to pee. The relief is instantaneous. Suddenly I realize that I'm peeing sitting down, I didn't even think to stand up. You'd think someone who spent thirty years of their life as a man would first stand in front of the toilet and then realize he (or she) would have to sit down. It's almost as if I already have female instincts. But then again, who really thinks about how they're going to pee? You just do it. Again, thinking too much about this is starting to hurt my head.
When I'm done I stand up and start to strip down so I can take a shower. I start to feel some pee run down my leg. So there's something that's not so instinctual. As a man, I know to shake it out when I'm done. Since there's noting to shake I just didn't think of it. Now I know next time to use some toilet paper to wipe the last couple of drops.
When I'm fully naked I step into the shower and turn the water on. I notice how smooth my whole body is. No hair anywhere. It's a weird feeling. The water warms up and it starts to hit my chest, almost like a warm massage. Wow, this feels good. I found out yesterday that my nipples are much more sensitive than they ever used to be when I was a man and I'm starting to find out that also applies in the shower. I just stand there letting the water hit me for a minute or two. I realize the real problem is my hair. It takes so much longer to shampoo now. As Ben, I had short hair. It took a couple seconds to wash. As Ashley, it's quite an ordeal. It's going to take forever for all this to dry! When I get out of the shower I dry myself down and wrap the towel around my waist. I'm about to brush my teeth when I realize I don't know which toothbrush is mine. I grab the first one I see and use that. Who cares, we're all family right? When I'm done I dry my face off and walk into the hallway.
Right as I step out, one of the bedroom doors open and the boy is standing there. He's just looking at me. It seems like something is wrong but I don't understand what.
"Morning," I say with a nervous half smile.
"You're...um..." Me mumbles, pointing at my chest.
I realize I wrapped the towel around me as if I were a man, only around my waist. My breasts are wide open for anyone to see, including the boy (my brother).
I quickly wrap my arms around my breasts. "Sorry!"
"It's okay," he says, still keeping his eyes pointed away. "Just don't walk around naked. It's weird."
"I didn't know anyone was here."
"You know I don't work on Mondays."
"I...I forgot it was Monday." I quickly turn around and run into my room, closing the door behind me.
I think it's time I found out what my brother's name is. I grab my phone and open up Facebook. His name is Jack. Ugh, Jack! Just the sound of it makes me queasy. It's Jack Daniels that got me into this mess to begin with. Well no, not Jack, the wish. It's the wish that got me into this mess. The silver half-dollar coin. I wonder if it's still there, in the fountain. I decide that's my first destination. I open the dresser drawer and pull on another pair of black panties (non-thong) and another black bra. It's August in New York so I can only assume it's going to be disgustingly hot and humid outside. Definitely not going to wear pants. I decide to go with jean shorts again. They're very short, which will be nice on what I can already tell is a muggy day. I go to the closet and pull out a short-sleeved purple blouse. The fabric is very thin so it feels like it won't be that hot.
I look in the mirror and remember the words of my friends last night. Makeup. I should put some on but I have no idea how. I can see all the paraphernalia on the dresser beneath the mirror. I open my phone and pull up YouTube. There must be videos on there that show you what to do. And of course there are millions of them! I never realized how much actually went into all this. After about twenty minutes I'm ready to go. It probably won't take this long next time. There wasn't a damn video shorter than ten minutes! I slip on some sandals and look in the mirror.
I look good! Maybe I can get used to this. As Ben, I never looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. For the first time in my life I actually feel attractive! Well, don't get too carried away Ben. When this fiasco is over it's back to your normal unappealing self.
Even more reason to enjoy this now. I smile and make a kiss face at the mirror.
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I get to the Bethesda Fountain and already it feels like a million years since I was last here. There are mostly people with kids and strollers. Babysitters all taking care of those wealthy Upper East Side kids. A much different crowd from my new neighborhood in Inwood. I gaze up at the angel and get a sense that she's staring at me. Though to be fair, I felt like that the whole ride over. I got quite a few looks on the subway and I didn't mind it one bit. My legs are quite a sight if I do say so myself (and I do!) and many a man couldn't help but stare at me. But the angel's gaze is just in my head.
I search for the spot I was standing on my birthday two days ago. Of course the fountain bed is littered with coins. No matter what universe you're in there will be pennies thrown in this fountain. I lean over the side trying to look at every coin as not to miss it. Sure enough, there it is! A silver half-dollar coin. It must be the one I put in there. How many people actually fling a half-dollar into this fountain? It's got to be mine. Can you take a wish back? If I take the coin, will I wake up as Ben in the morning? If it's possible to work one way it's got to be possible to work the other.
Do I want to wake up as Ben?
The thought seems to poke its head up involuntarily. As if someone else is asking it. Do I really want to go back to being Ben? I'm eighteen, I can do anything I want. Granted Ben is only thirty, it's not like he's stuck in life. But right now I'm eighteen. I have no student loan debt, no bills, no credit cards. I realize I don't actually know that for sure, but I (meaning Ashley) only turned eighteen in March. It's now August. Even if she opened a credit card on her birthday, how much debit can she really be in? No, I bet she doesn't even have a card yet. (Note to self: check her wallet for credit cards) I have no debt and no bills and no obligations. It's a clean slate.
So it begs the question, do I really want to be Ben?
Then the image of my parents comes to mind. If I stay as Ashley, I'll never see them again. I'll miss my mom (my real one). If I stay like this, I'll be giving them up. Even if I visit them they won't recognize me. And what can I tell them? "Yes I may look like this teenage girl, but I'm really your adult son named Ben." I look down at the coin.
Without thinking I lean over the edge of the fountain and plunge my hand into the water, reaching for the coin. It's deeper than I originally thought and I lean a little further over the edge, my feet lifting off the ground. The water feels good on my arm, a bit of a refreshment from the humidity of the day. I reach a little further in, making sure not to fall into the fountain. I finally get my index and middle finger on the edges of the coin and fish it out. Back on my feet, I hold the coin up, water dripping down my arm. It doesn't look like there's anything special about it. Just looks like a regular old coin.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I hear a man's voice behind me. I feel my stomach sink as I immediately assume I'm in trouble.
I spin around as I say, "what?!"
There's a man standing there with a half smile on his face. He looks like the quintessential suburban dad. Light yellow polo shirt, kaki shorts, low cut socks and a pair of white sneakers.
"The coin, it's beautiful isn't it," the man says to me.
"Uh...yeah, I guess."
I can tell he looks surprised but for what reason I don't know. "You're not a collector?"
"A collector of what?" I can't help but hide my confusion. Why is this man talking to me?
