I leaned against the doorway of Mr. Thompson’s algebra class, a grin spreading across my borrowed face. The room buzzed with chatter, completely unaware of the storm of absurdity about to hit them.
Perfect.
With a snap of my fingers, Everyone names was different now. No one noticed. But the changes? Oh, they were glorious.
At the front of the room, Mr. Thompson—now Ms. Brittany Thompson—adjusted his tie, completely oblivious to the fact that his name had just taken a sharp left into femininity. He cleared his throat. "Alright, settle down. Let’s take attendance."
He picked up the roster and began calling his students names.
"Ashley?" A burly football player in the back row raised his hand. "Here."
"Gregory?" A petite girl with pigtails blinked. "Y-yes?"
The class didn’t bat an eye. To them, this was normal. Always had been.
I stifled a laugh as Ms. Brittany continued, unfazed. "Jennifer?" A lanky boy in glasses nodded. "Present."
The real fun began when the students started interacting.
"Hey, Jessica, did you finish the homework?" a girl—now named Kyle—asked her friend, who was currently a broad-shouldered guy named Emily.
"Yeah, I didn't really understand it," Emily groaned, rubbing his temples. "I stayed up till, like, midnight."
Nearby, a boy named Sophia talk to a girl that sit beside him, Christopher, formerly Christina. "Hey, Are you free after school."
Ms. Brittany sighed. "Sophia, pay attention. And stop distracting Christopher."
after done taking attendance, Ms. Brittany adjusted his tie and tapped the chalkboard. "Alright, class, let’s review the homework I gave you Last week. Daniel, care to solve this one?"
A girl with a ponytail blinked. "Uh, sure, Ms. Brittany." She stood, her sneakers squeaking against the linoleum as she walked to the board. Daniel had been Danielle five seconds ago.
I leaned in the doorway, watching the beautiful absurdity unfold.
Two football players in the back, now Sophia and Emily, were whispering. "Dude, did you finish the history homework?" Sophia asked, scratching his stubble.
"Yeah, but it was brutal," Emily replied, cracking her knuckles.
At the front, Daniel finished writing her solution and turned to the class. "So, x equals negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus 4ac, all over 2a."
"Excellent work, Daniel," Ms. Brittany said, nodding approvingly.
Across the room, a boy in glasses—formerly Brandon, now Brenda—raised his hand. "Ms. Brittany, I think I got a different answer?" His voice was light, casual, as if he’d never known anything else.
The teacher smiled. "Let’s hear it, Brenda."
Not a single eyebrow was raised. Not a single memory questioned. To them, the world had always been this way—boys with names like Lily and Grace, girls answering to James and Michael.
This was entertainment.
Ms. Brittany didn’t miss a beat. "Alright, class, let’s move on to the next question?"
The students eagerly flipped their notebooks to a new page.
I slipped out of the room, already plotting my next little game.
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