Chapter Text
The worst part of this was that she was very pretty.
Pretty in the intimidating sort of way. Choppily cut hair, bad bleach job. She had a nose piercing, Malachi realized, as he peered into the reflection of the bus window to get a better look. Gold embedded into the left side of her face. It felt strange to him, as if there was something stuck up there and he may sneeze at any given moment. The bus rolled around the corner, sending sunlight beaming through the window. She had a freckle on the top of her left cheekbone, he realized. For a moment he sat, gawking at the reflection. And then once again came the; holy shit, I am in Cosima Prior’s body.
I will not cause a scene on the bus. Malachi felt as though he might faint. Cosima in the reflection of the window looked as though she might faint too. But he tried to steel his resolve, tried not to scream and or have a breakdown. Because if he did that, then the bus driver might stop, and everyone would look and maybe he’d be sent to a loony bin or get expelled or something equally as life ruining.
He looked down at the phone in his lap, hoping for (but also perhaps dreading) a phone call from his own phone number. A purple Samsung, the back of the case filled with polaroids of Cosima and friends, some glitter, and also a picture of Luigi for some reason. He couldn’t get his way in. Whatever Cosima’s password was, he wasn’t privy to the information. Of course, because they were barely even friends. Hardly acquaintances. He just saw her in the corridors at school sometimes and thought to himself, she seems nice, and also, she seems pretty.
And now he was her. He couldn’t wrap his head around that fact. That morning, when he’d woken up in an unfamiliar bedroom and found himself face to face with a purple bedspread, and also a pair of tits, he had what is commonly known as a breakdown. Tried to go back to sleep, convinced himself it was a dream, and then did that three more times as Cosima’s alarm blared at him to wake up. He still wasn’t sure that it wasn’t a dream. It could be a dream. Except only Cosima’s parents seemed very real, and the bus he was on on his way to school felt very real, and also, for as uncomfortable he felt in this body, it also felt very real.
The bus lurched to a stop. Shit, he thought, as he looked out to see the familiar sight of his school courtyard. Around him, students began to stand up, chattering to one another as they picked up their backpacks and started to shuffle off the shuddering bus. He wished he could have called in ill, but one look at Cosima’s dad had scared him slightly shitless. Besides, if he couldn’t get into her phone, it meant the only way he could get in contact with her was to come to school. If he was in her body, she must be in his. The thought made him shudder, as he stood up. His legs, or Cosima’s legs technically, were wobbly. He felt like a newborn deer, struggling to get up. Everything felt wrong. The way his legs touched, the way his weight was displaced, he felt like he was walking underwater.
I don’t know where her locker is, he thought to himself. The thought sent his heartbeat shuddering. The air outside was cold, and he tensed instinctively. Cosima didn’t own many jackets. All he could find was, least offensively, a hoodie and some ripped jeans. It had been almost impossible to get dressed with eyes clothes, but he thought he should offer her some form of dignity. He also very much did not want to look. He felt bad about not wearing a bra, but he also knew there was no way he could get that on.
I guess I’ll wait by my own locker, he reasoned. She’ll show up there at one point. He hoped Cosima didn’t have the same thought. Walking through the crowd of students, he suddenly realized how strange it was to be shorter than most people. He had never thought Cosima was short, but she always wore those boots, and he didn’t know where she’d left them. It made him feel uncomfortable and overwhelmed.
“Cosima!” The voice came from behind him. Malachi jumped and turned around in a panic, finding himself eye to eye with;
“Isaias!” He panicked, trying hard to pitch his voice up in an impression of Cosima’s accent. “Hey.”
Isaias grinned at him. He was a lot taller than Cosima, taller than Malachi too probably. He was lean and lanky and had stringy dark hair that might have looked sickly on some people, but not on him. “What the hell are you doing around here?”
“What?” Malachi said, trying not to panic.
“You haven’t been answering your phone.” Isaias said. “I told you to meet me by the cafeteria.”
“Oh.” Said Malachi. “It’s out of battery.” He lied.
“Are you having a stroke?” Isaias lent in.
“What?”
“You’re talking funny.”
“Oh.” Malachi wanted to die. “I bit my cheek in my sleep.” Isaias kind of scared him. Malachi knew they were best friends, because he never caught one away from the other. He used to think he was dating Cosima, but it became very clear that Isaias was gay.
“Owch.” Isaias said. “Do you want to go, then? Class starts soon.”
“Okay.” Malachi felt like he was going to faint. But before he could say something else, Isaias’ eyes darted to the corner.
“Why’s that guy eyeing you up?”
“What?” Malachi turned around, trying to see who Isaias was staring at. Only, he found his attention being drawn to … himself. Leant against his own locker, arms crossed and looking at him with narrowed eyes that were maybe a bit amused.
“Isn’t he in our year? Malachi or something?”
“Malachi, yeah.” He repeated, his mouth dry. “I think I should maybe go talk to him.”
“Why? You guys don’t know each other.”
“Yeah we do. We, uh, we’re working on a project together.”
Isaias seemed surprised. “I didn’t know you guys had classes together.”
“Yeah.” Malachi felt like he was going to start crying. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Okay.” Isaias seemed a bit surprised. “See you.”
Isaias started to walk away, and Malachi took a deep breath in. His body was still staring at him. Slowly, he walked up to it.
“Hi.” He said.
“What the fuck?” His body said. Malachi realized how weird it was to talk to himself. His voice came out a lot higher, and strangely nasal with a different accent.
“Yeah.” Malachi agreed.
“We should find somewhere to talk.”
“Okay.”
They were lucky that the bell hadn’t rung yet, so finding an empty room was easy. As the door closed, he saw himself let out a breath and then shake their head, laughing. It was so strange to see himself laughing. Malachi felt as though he suddenly had gained a twin.
“This is so fucking weird.” Cosima said. “I’m so much shorter than I realized.”
“I thought so too.” Malachi said. “You’re Cosima, right?”
“Yep. Malachi?”
“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Did you tell anyone?”
“I nearly called Isaias.” She said. “You?”
“No.” He said. “I didn’t want to be sent to an insane asylum.”
“You sound like you’re going to cry.” She grinned. “Is being in my body that bad?”
“I’m freaked out!” He said. “Are you not?”
“No.” She shrugged, as if she was talking about the weather.
“Why?”
“Because.” Cosima beckoned him closer, as if she was going to tell him a secret. “I did this on purpose.”