Page 88 of Switch!

“Your memories! Your personality and everything else too! Whatever gives you this ability lets you keep all the important stuff. You might be signing into a different computer with each body, but you can still download your old data.”

“How would that work? Cloud storage might feel like our files are floating around in the sky, but they’re basically just stored on another computer somewhere. Would that be my old body?”

“Maybe,” Trixie says, “but assuming that we each have a soul—and you sure seem to be evidence that we do—what happens when we die and our physical brains no longer exist? If we still get to keep our memories in that scenario…”

“Then maybe everything that makes me who I am transfers along with me. Like a new computer accessing old data.”

“Yup!”

We smile at each other. I still need to consider the implications. And digitize my notebook. That’s so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. Maybe I would have, if I’d had someone I could talk to about this.

“I’m really glad I met you,” I say.

“Same here,” Trixie replies. “I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun. What’s next?”

I check the clock on the dashboard and swear. “I have to get going. Jesse’s shift starts soon. Where can I drop you off?”

“Are you heading downtown?”

“Yeah.”

“Anywhere in that area is fine.”

I start the car, an unasked question on my lips. I don’t hold back. Not after we’ve shared so many intense experiences. You don’t go to funerals and rob houses with just anyone. That’s best friend level stuff. “Are you homeless?”

“I’m not sleeping on the streets,” Trixie says.

“That’s a relief, but it’s also not what I asked.”

“It’s the truth. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I promise. Let me askyousomething. When the neighbor caught us, why didn’t you switch into his body and make him go away?”

“Like I said, I’m not sure how my powers work anymore. Everything keeps changing. And it would have been a challenge, since I have to feel a strong desire to be that person or—”

I explain the best I can during the rest of the drive. When dropping her off at a seemingly random street corner, I’m tempted to follow her in the car until she gets to wherever she’s going. Even though it’s broad daylight. Am I sexist? I didn’t worry this much about Sarah. My mom often worked nights and I never bit my nails waiting for her to return home. Why am I so nervous now? Something to ponder while in my black box.

Jesse has places he needs to be. Before I relinquish control to him, I look to where my old backpack sits on the passenger seat and wonder if I should hide it from him. How though? I can’t make him close his eyes and not pay attention to where I put it. This will be another difficult day to explain to himself… unless Jesse is willing to accept the truth. That would certainly make my life easier. If he needed proof that this isn’t a game, he now has the best I can offer. I just wonder what he’ll make of it.

Twenty-three ↔ Chapter

After driving back to the apartment, Jesse changes into his work uniform, but I don’t give him privacy. Instead I remain silent and still, wanting to observe how he’ll react to the events of the day. My backpack is sitting on his bed. He keeps glancing at it while getting dressed. The thoughts I pick up on are fragments of explanations, each abandoned as quickly as they come.

She must have known it would be there. No. I drove to that house on my own. And it’s where Caleb used to live! The family photo proved that. Unless it was planted there. Trixie even drew my attention to it. The neighbor could have been in on it too—an actor, maybe—although I’m the one who knew about the hidden spare key. Then again, she mentioned a fake rock before I did so… The power of suggestion! Maybe she led me to the house that way too. Somehow. Even if I’m right and it was all an elaborate setup, what would be the point?

Jesse is still trying to figure it out when brushing his teeth. After checking his hair in the mirror, he sits on the bed and takes the notebook from the backpack, flipping through the pages while only glancing at the text.

Where’s that library card? Maybe I can call and ask if Travis is a real person. Of course he is. Caleb, or maybe Trixie, probably stole these things from him. How come? Is this evidence they wanted to keep hidden? Did they kill Travis? What about Caleb? What have I gotten myself mixed up in?

Oh great. Now he thinks we’re murderers and thieves. I want to reassure him that we’re good people, but I’m not sure how. If only we could communicate face to face.

I need to stop playing these games, Jesse thinks.Grieving process or not, it’s gone too far. Unless… Ugh. Why not? *ahem* If this is real—if anyone is inside my head—give me a sign.

I’m real,I think as loud as I can.And you can trust me. I promise.

I can feel Jesse’s shock. Did he hear me? Did it work?

The buzzer rings, making him jump. Then he remembers that Stan is due to pick him up. Jesse stuffs the notebook into the backpack and tosses it in the corner of the closet where he hides birthday and Hanukkah presents from Colin. Then he hurries out of the apartment while shaking his head, convinced it’s all a bizarre social experiment that he has yet to figure out.

— — —