Page 107 of Switch!

She giggles and nods, her eyelids out of sync when she blinks. She’s drunk. So is my host. I lost my taste for alcohol after Caleb’s accident, but Jesse would drink on occasion with Colin. More responsibly. I haven’t been this drunk since the day I died.

“We wouldn’t want to fall off the motorcycle,” Lou says.

Carmen looks at me and blinks a few times. “We don’t have a motorcycle.”

“Even more reason to take a taxi.”

They both splutter laughter. I’ll have to be careful. Lou is much more suggestable than I expected, maybe because of the state he’s in. That might work to my advantage.

What beautiful music!I think.Wouldn’t it be romantic to walk over there with Carmen so we can listen?

“I have the most wonderful idea,” Lou says before burping. “Sorry. Come with me.”

He offers his arm before remembering that his wife is already holding on to it. Together they wobble across the street, narrowly missed by the cars that swerve to avoid them.

Trixie is already engaging with them as she continues to play, smiling and nodding as they near. She’s really showing off, switching to an Irish song that involves fiddling and a sung chorus. Her voice isn’t bad, but I’m here for more than a show, so I mentally praise her.

I’ve never heard more beautiful music in my life!

I think this a few times, really wanting to drive home the impression.

“Gorgeous!” Lou gasps when the song ends. His eyes roam over Trixie, stopping some places longer than others. She’s certainly cuter when seen from this body. I suppose Lou’s wife is evidence that he prefers younger women. Carmen is clapping happily, which creates the perfect opportunity to nudge him mentally.

What a perfect way to end the night. I should reward her.

I decide to leave it at that. Suggesting how much Trixie should receive feels too much like coercion, so I remain silent, even when I see how much cash is stuffed into his wallet. Lou takes out a fifty and hands it to Carmen. Then he pulls out another for himself. They both approach Trixie and drop the money in her case. Then they start complimenting her. From their enthusiasm, I suspect all I really needed to do was expose them to her talent.

I feel satisfied when slipping back into Patrick’s body. And a lot more sober. I watch the happy couple hail a cab, Trixie fiddling while they wait. Only once they’ve driven away do I rise and approach her. She’s so happy that she hugs me.

“Let’s buy ourselves dinner! Then we can keep going. If you want.”

“I’m down!”

I’m happier than ever that we met. Thanks to Trixie, I’m no longer going through this alone. I’m learning more about myself, but most of all, I get to enjoy hanging out with my best friend. Sure, she’s myonlyfriend, but even if I had more, she’d be the greatest of them. I want to give just as much back to her in return. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush from our success, but I feel like together, we can do anything we set our minds to.

Twenty-six ↔ Chapter

When I return to Patrick’s body, he’s sitting on the ground with his back against a tree. A group of teenagers occupies the bench we used yesterday, or I would have chosen the more comfortable option. While working out the kinks in my back, I notice Trixie walking glumly toward me, already knowing she won’t be happy.

“Five bucks?” she asks incredulously.

“I know, I know,” I say hurriedly. “He was only dressed fancy because of a job interview earlier in the day. He got it too. That’s why he was out drinking, to celebrate. I feel bad enough about the fiver. I think he’s even more broke than we are.”

“I bet he doesn’t owe three months’ rent,” Trixie retorts. “And did he have to stand there for so many songs?”

“He kept debating whether or not he could spare the money.”

“I know the feeling,” she sighs. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay.”

I get to my feet and offer to carry her violin case, but she never likes me to touch it. The instrument especially. It’s sacred. Earlier in the evening, a drunk guy asked if he could play her violin before attempting to grab it. Trixie took a step back and swatted his hand with the bow, which enraged the man. I had to put on a tough-guy act to scare him off.

“It’s been a rough night,” I sympathize as we begin the walk back to the car. “Yesterday was so much better.”

“That happens,” Trixie says with a nod. “You can make good money on the weekends, but there’s more bullshit to deal with too. Tomorrow we’ll find somewhere else. An expensive shopping area during the day. There’s not enough nightlife on a Sunday to make it worthwhile.”

I feel bad. She’s doing the bulk of the work. I might be popping into any body that looks like it has money, but that’s entertaining. I get to spy on the lives of other people, like the open houses my mom used to drag me to. I always paid more attention to the personal possessions in each room and the photos out on display, weaving a story about each family in my mind. Now I have access to intimate details, especially when the music whisks them away to significant moments in their past. I live vicariously in those memories. Trixie has to stand and fiddle for hours on street corners.