“I saw you checking me out,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

  During homeroom, an orange genie forced me to re-experience Knox’s death through an illusion, but the moments felt real; I could smell ash and cinder, and I could feel the fme’s heat. I begged for my life for a second time, but when the illusion finally ended, a cssmate approached me. “Date me,” she said. I would never date a child—I’m a forty-year-old soul in the body of a teenage boy—I couldn’t live with myself. But my cursed genie compelled me by narrating my actions into existence because I’m supposed to “acclimate” or some crap.

  “So, what caught your attention?” she asked, hoping for a positive answer.

  I didn’t like her; I didn’t like anyone. I was having an out-of-body experience.

  We walked down the hall, sunlight streaming through tall windows and reflecting off the flood of students around us. Passersby shoved me as I waded through the crowd with her clinging beside me. The noise created by multiple students talking at once provided a smoke screen to ignore her questions. All I wanted was for the crowd to separate us — I silently prayed for it, just to end the awkwardness. Suddenly, she grabbed my wrist.

  “Science, right?” Startled by her strength, I nodded in response. “I got you,” she said, then vigorously pushed through the tide of students, apologizing. I considered the monstrous difference in strength. In my world, men were stronger, but not by much. We had to build ourselves to create power gaps like this. Her grip was firm, yet delicate around my wrist: I knew she wouldn’t let go or hurt me.

  “Move out of the way! Sorry! Apologies!” She said as we moved through groups of students. We made it to the stairwell and swiftly ascended to the third floor.

  “Wait! I need to rest.” I said, gasping for air. She let go of my wrist. I had never moved that fast, and based on the burning sensation in my lungs, neither had Antwon. Gasping, I looked around. The third floor was almost empty. I guess more students had homerooms on the third floor, causing a cascade when the bell rang.

  “Who is your first-period teacher?” she asked.

  Come to think of it, how did I know science was my first css?

  I folded my arms and tried to remember how I got this information. I remember the sound of the bell. Just then, the bell rang, echoing throughout the hall. Images of a small, yet sturdy Asian woman popped into my head; she’s lecturing about covalent bonds, and a young man raises his hand for help, calling out, “Ms. Abutin.”

  “Dang. We missed the bell—are you sure you want to show up te?”

  The bell ended, leaving the halls empty and my head filled with more questions: Why would she ask me that, I thought.

  “Yes, I need to learn science.” I didn’t care about science, but I needed to act normal until I figured things out.

  She retook my wrist, and we sailed through the empty hall. After a few minutes, we nded in front of Ms. Abutin’s door. If I’m te, this girl is extremely te.

  “Okay, this is me, so – “I started moving toward the door when an arm stiffly blocked my way. I turned slightly, expecting a familiar hunger, but she looked more nervous than fiendish. So, I turned completely, knowing I couldn’t overpower her, and asked her: “What’s wrong?”

  “I just really like you, and I’ve been toyed with by guys before,” she said nervously. I could rete. In my world, uninterested girls would string guys along, taking them for everything before ghosting them.

  “Well, I– “

  She leaned in and took a deep, audible whiff of me, startling me. I jerked back, stunned. Her face was red, and I knew this, whatever this was, had to stop. “I like the way you smell. I hope that didn’t come off as weird.”

  That ship has sailed.

  Genie: “Antwon, instead of cogitating negatively, use this moment to ameliorate your disposition in this world.

  You again! I softly groaned.

  I hated having two conversations because I couldn’t control my outward expression, and I could tell from how she stared at me that I was bad at hiding it.

  I’m dealing with the situation you got me into, genie.

  “Yo, are we good?” she said.

  Genie: Use your interaction with Sakura as a benchmark and quell her uncertainty by providing emotional support.

  No! I’m not doing that, I thought. You got me here; you deal with it. The voice was silent. Of course, I wouldn’t get any help now. The girl sighed, frustrated. She raised her other hand and pressed it against the wall beside my head, boxing me in.

  “Please say something,” she said softly. Her voice trembled—not from tears, but from something heavier. Fear. Frustration. Maybe both. I could see it in her eyes—something in her past had broken and never fully healed. And somehow, I was triggering the aftershocks.

  I thought about this morning. About Sakura. I couldn’t grab this girl by the colr. Couldn’t bark orders. I hated how powerless I felt in this new world. But I’d seen this kind of pain before. Not on the giving end, but the receiving.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing her attention. She looked up with soft eyes, searching my face. I gently brushed her cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” She nodded as the pain in her face washed away. I tried to remember the exact actions of the women who used to console me. With my other hand, I ran my fingers through her long brunette hair. It was smoother than I expected. And since she wasn’t bald, I felt it had more impact. I leaned forward, our foreheads touching, hoping my gesture said more than words could.

  Maybe this wasn’t the right py. I thought. I had broken multiple known barriers—I made physical contact, intimate gestures, and held eye contact.

  “W-what should we do after school?” she asked, blushing. I blushed, not because of her, but because I’d never considered how much willpower it took the dies of my former life to act so submissively. In Knox’s death, I found respect for their performance. Then, out of nowhere, her arms moved from the wall and slipped around my waist, and I froze. I knew I was in deep waters and didn’t know how to swim.

  Where do kids in this world go on dates? What do dates involve? When did she move her hands from the wall to my waist? Thoughts raced through my mind, but I had to respond fast because the gap between our faces was closing. “Eh, how about we go to the…arcade,” if there are arcades in this world.

  “Seriously!” The sound reverberated throughout the empty halls.

  Did I mess up? I tracked her expression. She was shocked, but I didn’t know the impact.

  “You want to py video games on our first date?”

  “Is that a problem? If it is, we can always—”

  “That’s awesome!”

  I nailed it, but the gap was fading. Crap! What did women do who didn’t want to kiss me?

  I slid my hand from the side of her face, tracing her lips with my fingers, causing noticeable excitement. I had to do something to create distance; something drastic, yet impactful. My mouth grew wet, and my body warm. Breaths grew heavy as our mouths drew closer. Something in me began to surface—some part of me wanted this to happen. I got it. I know what to do!

  The grin on her face widened as her hot breath warmed my moist lips, and her bck, abyss-like eyes drank me in. “S-sis,” I called out, burning hot. “I need to go to css.” She jumped back and grabbed her face.

  Nailed it again, escaping yet another awkward situation.

  “S-sis!” She shouted. Her reaction was the same as Sakura’s, but this time, I was in control. She grabbed my hands, red-faced. “Are you serious?” she asked, gently squeezing my hands.

  I rescued one of my hands and pced a finger to my lips, and elevated a shoulder because I’ve seen women in my past do that to lure me in. “Only if I’m enough for you.” Every word felt like acid leaving my lips because I was talking to a child, betraying myself to survive.

  “I’ve never… You know, but I promise we can practice until I’m good. And don’t worry; I’ll take responsibility,” she said.

  I’ve never heard that phrase or seen a girl with so much conviction. Then it hit me like a hammer to the face. “Get good at what?” She moved in for who knows what. Some instinct—conditioned or cursed—made me open my arms. I hated myself for it. Another betrayal, but Ms. Abutin’s cssroom door swung open, and we both froze to see what was going on.

  Ms. Abutin stepped into the hallway and looked at our blushing faces. First me, then her, then back to me... She scoffed at us. “Mr. Carter, you’re supposed to be in here,” she said sternly. “As for you, Christine, stop praying on vulnerable boys,” she said, and I agreed.

  ***

  I ducked into the cssroom. The brightly lit room and disciplined students starkly contrasted with my homeroom.

  “I’ll find you after css, okay?” Christine shouted loud enough for the whole css to hear, causing me to recall our near kiss from moments ago, leaving my face afme.

  The students in the cssroom giggled in response.

  “Christine, get to css, or else I’ll escort you to the principal’s office and have your mom called,” Ms. Abutin said.

  Genie: You exceeded my expectations.

  “Shut it,” I muttered as I walked to a desk amidst the giggling students. The css quieted down, but my pulse didn’t. I felt like all eyes were on me, following my every move, judging me. I sat down in a chair and gnced at the young man next to me from the corner of my eye.

  He smiled uncontrolbly while watching me. “You can shut it, too,” I repeated.

  KnoxCross116