Invited

I open my eyes, groaning in pain. I look up at the concerned faces floating above me.

“You okay, man?” Taylor asks me.

I slowly nod, rubbing my head. “Yeah, my head hurts a little, but I think I’m okay. Why? What happened?”

Taylor looks at Alec who replies, “The baseball hit you in the face. There’s this huge red mark right above your left eye.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Taylor asks, frowning.

I struggle to get to my feet. A baseball hit me? “Yeah…” I wave them off. Why am I playing baseball?

There are ten other boys standing around on the field. I shake my head. Huh.

“Griffin!” A male’s voice barks.

I look over at Coach Martin.

“You okay?” He asks.

I nod reflexively, more confused than ever. What the heck is going on?

“Carter!”

I twist and see Kylie Robbins running toward me. She throws her arms around my neck, and I stumble backward unsteadily.

“Griffin, why don’t you go home and ice your face, okay?” Coach Martin suggests, “You need to get that swelling down.”

I nod, unsure of how I got hit in the face or why I’m even playing baseball.

Kylie takes my hand and slings my arm around her neck. She kisses my cheek, and my stomach instantly recoils. Why did she just kiss me? What the hell is going on around here?

“Carter, here, man,” Neil says, handing me a plastic Ziploc bag of ice.

“Thanks,” I reply, taking it with my free hand.

Kylie helps me to the dugout and sets me on the bench as I press the ice to my swelling bruise. Kylie takes my other hand and sits next to me uncharacteristically quiet.

I frown. “What’s wrong?” I ask her, even though I’m in no condition to help her.

“I just don’t understand.”

I grunt. “That makes two of us,” I mutter under my breath.

“It was a perfect pitch, and the next thing we all knew, you were on the ground. Brandon hit the baseball so hard and fast, I guess there was no way that you could have dodged it.”

“Pitch?” I repeat, my mouth suddenly dry.

She nods. “You were pitching. Don’t you remember?”

“I…I didn’t think girls were allowed on the team.” I reply.

Kylie gives me a strange look and says slowly, “I’m not on the team. I was in the bleachers.”

“No—” I start to say no, not you, but I notice my hand pressed between hers. It’s broad and not my hand. But I feel it…it belongs to me. I look down and see legs covered in baseball pants with gold pinstripes. My eyes travel along my legs down to my huge, cleat-clad feet and then up to between my legs and see the bulge of a cup. What the hell…?

My breathing becomes ragged, and I notice my flat chest. Where’d my boobs go?! Oh my God! Where’d my vagina and ovaries go?! Holy shit! I’m a guy! And Kylie isn’t my best friend—she’s my girlfriend! Holy shit holy shit holy shit!

I jerk my hand from Kylie as if she is burning me. She gives me a confused frown.

“Carter…” She says slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“How—how long have I been like this?” I choke, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

Her brow furrows, more confused. “Like what…?”

“A—” A guy, I start to say but stop myself.

“Like what?” Kylie urges.

I shake my head. “Uh…bad at catching baseballs,” I say quickly and lamely.

She giggles. “You’re not bad, silly. You wouldn’t be their star player if you were bad.”

Star player? “Naw, you’re making that up,” I tell her, my legs beginning to shake.

She gives me a curious look. “Are you okay? Amnesia isn’t a good sign…Lemme drive you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

I stare at her a moment.

She looks uncomfortable and drops her gaze. “What?”

“You’re serious.” I say, fear settling in the pit of my stomach. This is seriously happening.

She nods, looking back up at me. “You’re scaring me, Carter.”

I clear my throat, listening to the booming baritone of a voice that I have now. “I’m sorry, Kyles, I’m just…a little confused.”

She smiles at the nickname. “Clearly.”

I dig my toe in the red dirt. What am I going to do? How’d I get to be…like this? Last thing I remember is: sitting at my desk, checking my pretty reflection in my compact, ignoring the teacher, and winking at the boy across from me. He had dropped his gaze and smiled at his notebook. Then I’d gotten up to sharpen my pencil, and while I was swaggering my way across the cheap, industrial-carpeted floor, the toe of my boot hit the edge of some kid’s backpack which sent me sprawling. On my way down, I hit my head on the edge of the kid’s desk—right above my left eye.

“Carter,” Kylie says, squeezing my hand.

I look at her. “Huh?”

“What were you thinking about?”

“The last thing I remember.” I say, “Hitting my head.”

She tentatively touches her fingertips to the knot above my left eye. “It’s not too bad.” She bites her lower lip.

I quirk an eyebrow at her. “You’re a suckish liar, Kyles.”

She giggles. “I know.”

I shake my head. “Perhaps I should have my head examined after all.”

She giggles some more and leans toward me.

I cringe and let her press her lips to mine. When she’s done, she leans away, brow furrowed.

“It hurts,” I reply, hoping she mistakes my grimace out of disgust for a grimace of pain.

She gives me a motherly look and stands up. “Let’s go.”

Kylie takes the makeshift icepack and heads out of the dugout. I stand up and collect my gear, picking up the baseball bat with my name on it. I notice the number 23 stamped on the barrel as well as my sleeve. I smile. It’s my lucky number. I grab the baseball helmet with the 23 on it, too, and head out of the dugout after Kylie.

Trent Woodward is hustling toward me with a worn glove. I smile. Trent is a god, sleek and handsome.

“Hi, Trent,” I say, my voice saturated with adoration.

He eyes me strangely, and I inwardly kick myself. I look like a guy, for heaven’s sakes.

“Here you go, Carter,” Trent says, tossing me the glove.

I catch it, staring at his perfectly chiseled features. He knows my name…

“Better not let that happen in Friday’s big game,” he says, smirking.

I grin and instinctively retort, “I can take a beating.”

Trent nods. “That you can, Griffin…that you can.”

Kylie runs to me and says hi to Trent.

“Hey, Kylie,” Trent says, looking her up and down.

I feel something shift in my chest, and I tuck an arm around Kylie’s waist, momentarily forgetting what I am now.

Kylie smiles at Trent and wraps her arm around my waist, too.

The three of us stare at each other awkwardly for a moment. Then I clear my throat and say, “Well, see ya tomorrow, Trent.”

He nods, “Yeah, sure thing.”

He walks away, and Kylie directs me toward her car. I toss my gear in the trunk, get in on the passenger’s side, and watch Kylie climb in the driver’s seat. She ignites the engine, and soon we’re zooming away from the high school. We hop on the freeway, heading away from the hospital and toward our neighborhood.

I frown at her. “Uhm…Kylie, the hospital is the other way.”

She shrugs and says nonchalantly, “You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks for your concern?”

She flicks an annoyed glance at me.

“What?” I ask.

She whips into a parking lot and turns the engine off. She stares at the steering wheel for a second.

“Kylie?” I ask her.

She lets out a slow breath.

“You okay?” I frown.

She gives me a hard stare. “You fucking scared me, Carter.”

I backpedal. She never uses swear words. “Kylie, it’s okay—”

“No, Carter, you’re…you’re acting so strangely, and it’s really freaking me out.”

“But…I’m all right now.” I say uneasily.

She looks me up and down, eyes narrowed, and I tense under her wandering gaze.

She smiles mischievously up at me. She taps my cup, and I wince. “Doesn’t that get uncomfortable?” She asks me, peering up through thick lashes.

I shrug, swallowing. “Uh…sometimes.”

She looks me up and down again, and I feel my face redden.

“You could take it off,” She suggests, looking down and fiddling with the zipper on her jacket.

I nod, suddenly nervous. “Yep.”

She looks up at me, waiting.

I stare back, attempting to ignore my pounding heart.

She half-shrugs and clambers out of the driver’s seat, settling herself on my lap.

Uh…

She pushes the seat back and leans toward my face. Her lips touch mine, and this time they taste a little sweet.

“Kylie,” I begin, pushing her away, but she’s kissing me again before I can finish.

I feel her hands against me, and I realize that she’s removing the cup herself. I push her away again, her lips practically clamped on mine.

Suddenly, warm hands are wrapped around a part of me I shouldn’t have. “Oh,” I quietly say in surprise, something shifting inside me again.

This time when Kylie’s wet tongue slides past my lips, I don’t push her away—it feels…it feels good. Immediately, there is tension building within me. I want Kylie to keep going, but I can’t let her…She’s still my best friend; she can’t do this to me—Hell, I can’t believe that she’d do this to any guy.

I groan and push her away, and this time she complies. She looks down at me, pouting.

I sigh. Don’t tell me she actually wanted that. I mean…I’m not really supposed to be a guy…How awkward would that be?

“Kylie, maybe I should drive,” I suggest, trying to clear my head.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t think so,” she says, “There’s no way you’re driving my car with amnesia.”

“Then get off me,” I say evenly.

She narrows her eyes at me. “This is about Trent, isn’t it?”

“What?!” I reply. “That’s ridiculous. I got clobbered with a baseball and can’t remember shit.”

Kylie rolls her eyes and says, “All right, all right, I’ll get off…”

I close my eyes as she slides back into the driver’s seat, wishing I could explain myself. I’m in some freakish dream world, I want to tell her. Where girls are guys and their best friends are their girlfriends.

I relax a little as we pull back out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

We’re at my house within five minutes, and I grab my gear. I thank Kylie for the ride and watch her drive down the street and out of sight. I go inside and find my mom at her desk, working on her latest novel.

“Hey, sweetie,” she calls.

“Hey, Mom,” I reply.

“You’re home from practice early,” she comments, looking up.

“Well…” I start.

She sees the huge welt over my eye and springs into action.

It takes nearly twenty minutes to calm her down. She keeps asking me if I’m okay and handing my icepacks and giving me Tylenol and demanding me to retell the story and asking if I need to go to the hospital and on and on and on…Well, Mom hasn’t changed any. Looks like it’s just me and Kylie.

“Mom, I’m fine!” I groan for the umpteenth time. “I just need to rest!”

She gives me a concerned look. “All right, dear.”

She watches me go up the stairs to my room. Once I’m safely inside, I lock the door and let my breath out in a whoosh. I need to figure out what the hell is going on. I frown, looking up at a strange sight: my usually blue walls are covered in papers, some with pictures, some with words, some with both. I tear one off the wall and see what it’s about.

There is one name typed over and over: Perry Hamilton. I frown. Who the heck is he? I grab another piece of paper and see Perry Hamilton typed all over this page, too. I look at the picture. It’s the guy from the last class I remember—I think it was math…It’s the boy I winked at, and then I tripped and got launched into this strange world. I frown. I don’t remember a Perry Hamilton ever going to school. I grab another page. This one says: FIND PERRY HAMILTON.

I frown. Wow. Whoever I was before I got bonked with the baseball sure wanted to find this Perry kid. I wonder if whoever I was found him.

I get a shower, and when I’m done, I wrap my beige towel around my waist and stand in front of the mirror. I rub my hairless chin, eyeing the razor sitting on the lip of the sink. I can’t imagine shaving my face. I look down at my hairy legs and the smooth, slightly hairy chest. This is weird.

I pull the towel back and look at my new appendage. Not quite as I imagined it would be…

I think back to sitting in the car with Kylie. What had she done? Oh, yeah…I mimic her, wrapping my long fingers around myself. I’m using nerves I’ve never had before. It’s strange.

But definitely good. I mimic Kylie some more, and a sharp, twisting sensation of pleasure shoots through me. I shudder, my lips parting in a smile. I meet the dark blue eyes of the boy in the mirror. His dazed smile tells me that tonight there’s nothing I can do about this Perry kid. I take in a deep breath. I’ll worry about him tomorrow. For now, while I’m a guy…

I wake up to my Mom pounding her fist against my door. I bolt upright and dash to the door. I fling it open, and she stares at her boxer-clad, messy-haired son.

“Bus leaves in ten minutes, sweetheart,” she reminds me.

I smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt and run my fingers through my hair. I take a handful of papers and cram them into my backpack. I gotta figure out who this Perry Hamilton kid is.

I jump down the stairs and fly through the front door. The bus rolls to a stop across the street, and I sprint toward it. Manny the Bus Driver waits for me to board the bus before jerking the doors closed and taking off.

Kylie waits for me in seat eight.

I swallow the lump in my throat and sit next to her. I have to tell her what’s going on. Maybe she can even help me find this Perry kid.

“Hey, Carter, feeling better?” She asks, lightly thumbing the yellowing bruise.

I nod. “Yeah, I don’t have a headache anymore.”

She smiles. “Good.”

I situate my backpack onto my lap as she nervously stares at me.

“What?” I ask her.

She flutters her eyelids, like she’s impatiently waiting for something. A look of hurt creeps over her pretty face. “Well?”

“Well what, Kylie?”

“Aren’t you gonna ask me?”

I frown. “Ask you what?”

She chews her bottom lip. “If I missed you…”

I close my eyes. Yeah, we definitely need to talk.

“Carter, what’s wrong with you? You’re acting all strange and different. Did that baseball knock some neurons loose?”

I take a deep breath. “Kylie, there’s something I have to tell you…”

She gives me a horrified look. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean…Look, Kyles,” I say, “I’m…I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m…I’m not who you think I am.”

She presses her back against the window, staring at me with unease, distancing herself from me.

“Kylie, I’m…I’m really a girl trapped in this boy’s body.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Maybe I was wrong yesterday when I said you were fine.”

I shake my head. “I’m being serious here, Kyles. Before I got hit, I was a girl, and you were my best friend. I didn’t play baseball, and we both thought Trent Woodward was a god. He even asked you to Homecoming.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “I don’t believe you.”

I dig in my backpack for the papers. “Here,” I say, handing her one, “D’you know who this is?”

She nods, looking at the name and picture. “Yeah, Perry’s in our fourth period.”

“Our fourth period?”

She nods. “Yeah, math.”

“Okay, well, I need to talk to him. I think he’s somehow a part of this.”

“A part of what, Carter? Nothing’s wrong. You’ve always been a guy, and we’ve been going out since freshman year. Trent and I are friends because you’re both baseball players. He never asked me to any dance.”

I stare at her. She’s not gonna believe me. “Kylie, you think all that because you were changed, too.”

“Oh, yeah, Carter? What about your mom? Was she upset because you’re no longer a daughter? Was Coach Martin weirded out that some girl-turned-guy was playing on his team? No! Carter, you’re wrong! The only person that’s been changed here is you, and you’re really starting to freak me out.”

I sigh. “Kylie—”

“Carter, when we get to school, you need to go see the nurse. Maybe she can call your mom and have her take you to the ER.”

“Kyles, I—”

“No! I don’t wanna hear anymore nonsense about you being a girl!” She folds her arms across her chest and sullenly stares out the window.

I shake my head and sit back against the bus seat.

“What parents name their daughter Carter anyway?” She adds.

I give an exasperated sigh. This is ridiculous. Kylie warily glances sideways at me.

I meet her gaze, and she hastily looks away. Great. Now she’s afraid of me.

I rub my eyes, thinking. I gotta make it up to her. She is still my best friend.

I cave and ask her, “Did you miss me?”

Her lips relax into a familiar smile. “A little.”

Something shifts inside me, and I find myself playfully asking, “Only a little?”

She scrunches her nose. “Maybe a little more than that…”

I quirk an eyebrow at her.

She giggles. “All right, I missed you lots!”

I smile. “I missed you, too, Kyles.”

She slides back toward me and sits so that our legs are touching. I weave my fingers through hers. She looks at me, momentarily satisfied, and leans her angel head on my shoulder. I smile at her and think of last night…

Fourth period takes way too long to roll around. When it does, I practically sprint there, dragging Kylie along. She pouts about her sore arm, but I shrug her away. She collapses in her desk and sulks.

I scan the room for Perry Hamilton, but he’s nowhere to be found. Great.

I poke my head out into the hall and see a familiar-looking kid disappearing into the men’s restroom. I push my way across the crowded hallway and follow Perry into the bathroom.

He’s standing in front of a urinal. My feet halt when I see him standing there, peeing. Uhm…This is way awkward, being in here..

Perry looks up at me. “How you holdin’ up, Carter?”

I instinctively check over my shoulder before going to the urinal beside him. I lean against the dirty porcelain and stare at him a moment, unsure of where to begin.

Perry nods and zips himself up. “I take it you don’t remember.”

I frown. “Remember what, Perry Hamilton? All I remember is being a girl sitting in math class and needing to sharpen my pencil. I get up, trip, and hit my head on the edge of your desk. When I wake up, I find myself on the pitcher’s mound with a huge welt over my left eye and a dick in my pants. Then, after my best friend who’s suddenly my girlfriend gives me a hand job, I go home to a room covered in papers with your name and picture all over them. Now, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know you know.”

Perry nods and washes his hands. “It figures that you wouldn’t remember. You didn’t want to remember. That’s why you had me bring you here.”

“Where’s here?”

“This, my confused cross dresser, is the seventh dimension. It’s a parallel universe to that of the sixth dimension, which is where you used to be. In the sixth dimension, you were a chick with a best friend, who was too busy chasing after some baseball guy who didn’t even know you two existed. You hated your life, thought it sucked, and came to me for help. You paid me six months allowance in advance, in case you didn’t remember or believe me. You said you would wink at me when you were ready. Yesterday, in the sixth dimension, you winked at me in math class, and I sent you here.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously?”

He nods. “This is a trial run, a break from your old life.”

I shake my head. “This is nuts. Like you could actually send me to another dimension. As if there were even alternate dimensions!”

Perry shrugs, leaning against the white wall. “I’m one of a few with interdimensional connections. I can send you to any dimension, but it’s sorta illegal so that’s why it cost you so much.”

I frown, thinking. “You said this is a trial run?”

He nods. “Yeah, you get to be a guy for three days. When your three days are up, if you want to go back to the sixth dimension, you’ll meet me at noon in the park. If you don’t show up, you’ll be stuck a guy forever, and you’ll never be able to go back.”

My voice suddenly jumps an octave higher. “Stuck a guy?” I do not like the sound of that.

“Well, you’ll change gradually…I mean, even now, as we’re speaking, I can sense you changing genders. You came in here a girl, but the longer you stand there, the guy in you is taking over. Some because you want to beat the crap out of me and some because you’re thinking of Kylie.”

“So…lemme see if I’ve got this straight: I’m in an alternate dimension because in my real dimension my life sucks. I can go back after my trial run is up, or I can stay here a guy forever. I’m also changing into a guy as we speak.”

Perry nods. “Sounds right.”

“Hm,” I speculate, trying to take everything in, “You’re sure about all of this?”

He chuckles. “Yes, Carter. Here, I can prove it to you.”

I watch him pull out a five-inch long key. He snaps and shakes it like a glow stick. He then carves a huge oval in the air and opens the portal with the key. I look through the oval opening and see a familiar looking girl eating lunch with Kylie. She doesn’t look miserable. She looks...

Kylie gets up to throw her trash away, and Girl Carter steals a jealous glance over her shoulder toward Trent. I frown. I remember now: I hate my life…though I don’t know why…

Perry shuts the oval door and sticks the key back in his pocket. “The Carter Griffin from this dimension switched with you. He was the only one willing.”

“What?”

“There are other Carter Griffins in other dimensions, but they all like their lives. The Carter Griffin from the seventh dimension didn’t mind switching with you. He was tired of his life.”

The bell rings, and we stare at each other a moment.

“So…Saturday at noon?” I clarify.

“Only if you want to go back.” Perry nods.

I slowly nod. “All right. Thanks, Perry.”

We head back to fourth period and take our seats.

Kylie passes me a note halfway through the class. It reads:

So what’d Perry say?

I respond:

I’ll tell you at lunch.

She frowns and scribbles back:

Why can’t you tell me now?

I sigh. Kylie, sometimes you make my head hurt, girl:

It’s too long and confusing. It’d make more sense in person.

She eyes me but replies:

All right, but you better not forget!

I smile:

I won’t, Kyles. I promise.

She scrunches her nose at me in a silent giggle:

So…the big game is tomorrow…

Unease settles in my stomach. Oh, yeah…dammit:

Yep, you gonna be there?

She frowns at me:

Duh, Carter! I’ve been to ALL your games!

I wince. Yeah, duh, Carter! She is your girlfriend, mate, what’d you expect?

I hastily scribble back:

Just checking!

She narrows her blue eyes at me and crams the note in her pocket as Mrs. Orrender walks down our aisle, eyeing us suspiciously.

When the bell rings, we head to the cafeteria to eat some lunch. We’re sitting at a table, my arm around Kylie’s shoulders and my hand in hers, when Trent and this girl named Ashleigh sit down across from us.

“Hey, Trent,” I greet.

Trent nods at me. “Griffin.”

Ashleigh smiles at me. I think she’s a vampire—one who feeds on gossip. She leans toward me, her back showing. “I heard Brandon hit the ball really hard,” She says, caressing the bruise, “and that you didn’t even have enough time to duck.”

I roll my eyes. “Ash, it’s just a bruise, nothing interesting to see.”

She frowns and sits back down beside Trent.

“So, what’d Perry say?” Kylie asks me.

I cringe. “Not now,” I say in a low voice.

Kylie gives me a funny look but shrugs it off.

“So, you ready for the big game tomorrow?” Trent asks.

I nod. “You?”

He smiles but says warily, “Coach wants me to catch for you tomorrow night.”

“You’re a good catcher,” I assure him.

Trent laughs. “Mildly. Brandon would be a better match. I don’t know why Coach doesn’t put me at second or short stop…”

So, I don’t get around to telling Kylie about Perry’s and my deal at lunch, and afterward we go our separate ways though we catch back up on the bus. We sit in seat eight again and chat about the rest of our days. When we get off the bus, we walk hand-in-hand to Kylie’s house. We go up to her room and work on homework. Around four, I have to go back to the high school for baseball practice, so Kylie drives me over and watches me practice with the guys.

It’s not all that bad, being a guy. I understand now what Perry meant about changing genders. Sometimes everything just feels natural and right.

I also get these strange sensations and impulses, but I mainly just try to ignore them—although there is one impulse that’s practically impossible to ignore…Practice is over, and we’re back in Kylie’s room. I’d dropped all my stuff off at my house a block over and gotten a quick shower. Then, Kylie had driven me over to her house again.

Kylie steps out of her bathroom, soft pink bathrobe wrapped around her. I look up at her wet hair and smell the thick scent of fruity soap wafting down from her. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to ignore the tightening in my pants. She smiles at me. Wordlessly, she sits beside me on her canopied bed.

I don’t know if she moved my hand or if I did, but the next thing I know is that our hands are on her matching soft pink belt, together loosening the thin fabric, my heart frantically jumping into my throat. I know it shouldn’t shock me, seeing her, since I used to look the same, but it does. Her skin is tanned and perfectly smooth, and I can’t help but touch her.

Our breathing becomes labored, and my head becomes fuzzy. I’ve pushed her back onto her king-sized mattress and removed my shirt. If things continue in the same fashion, my pants will be gone soon, too.

And in no time, they are. Kylie tells me to look in her nightstand, and I slide the wooden drawer out. I see the packets of condoms and wonder where she got them. I peer back at her quickly rising and falling chest, and I watch her taut muscles quiver.

“Hurry, Carter,” she gasps. She squeezes her eyes shut, and her lips part. She moans and relieves some of her tension.

I can’t do it. I close my eyes, my face burning. I can’t screw my best friend. I don’t care if I look, act, feel, smell like a guy. Kylie doesn’t want this, and I can’t do it.

I shake my head and shut the drawer.

Kylie frowns at me through heavily-lidded eyes. “What’re you doing?” She asks, almost desperate.

I roll off her bed and pull my clothes back on. “I’m sorry, Kyles…”

She breathlessly calls to me, but I block out her voice and leave.

I walk home in the chilly air, the tears scalding my face. She’s gonna hate me.

No. No, she won’t. She’ll be grateful. She’ll be glad. We were about to make a huge mistake, and I won’t do that to her. Kylie deserves someone who won’t hurt her—and is really a guy. In two days, the real Boy Carter will be back and probably be very willing to give Kylie what she wants and not what she needs.

I trudge home. When I walk inside the house, my mom begins asking me about my day. Since I need distracting, I sit and let her distract me.

I fall asleep thinking of Kylie.

The next morning, she isn’t on the bus, waiting for me in seat eight. I sit alone, trying not to care where she is.

She doesn’t talk to me in fourth period, and I start to wonder if she’s ever going to speak to me again. Perry gives me an encouraging smile, as if he knows what’s going on.

Trent, Ashleigh, and Kylie are already sitting at the lunch table. I take my place beside Kylie but don’t touch her.

“Ready, Griffin?” Trent asks, psyched up for the big game.

I give him a brief nod. “Yeah, you?”

Trent pounds the table. “Hell yeah!”

I shake my head at him. It seems almost childish of me to think of him as a god. He’s just a person. Like me or Kylie.

Kylie doesn’t speak to me until after school. She’s in the parking lot, about to climb in her car, and motions me over. I go to her.

“Carter,” she begins.

“Hey, look, Kylie, it’s all right…about last night, you know, I…It wasn’t you.” I say, struggling to find the right words. “It…it was me. Remember when I said I’m a girl trapped in a boy’s body? Well…talking to Perry confirmed it. He sent me to this dimension. Apparently I hated my life in my old dimension. I’m still a girl sometimes inside and…things get awkward.”

Kylie’s face doesn’t change at all. She just stares at me. “Well, when does the real Carter come back? Cuz this one sucks.”

I grimace. “Saturday…Perry sends me back Saturday.”

She nods. “Good.”

“Kylie, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“The old Carter didn’t care.”

“The old Carter wasn’t happy here.”

“Well, I was happy with the old Carter.”

I stare at her. “Look, Kyles, I really need you right now. Okay, I’m…I’m not what either of us wants, all right?”

She snaps at me, “Carter, you’re so selfish! You can’t see past your own nose!”

“What?!” I ask in surprise.

“You’re fucking making up all this because you can’t just break up with me. It’s not me, it’s you! Cuz you really love Ashleigh and not me. You don’t really care about me. No, you see how Trent eyes me, you know he wants to get in my pants. Is that it? You guys trade girls like Pokémon cards? Well, you can kiss my ass, Carter Griffin!” She shouts and slams her car door.

I stare at her in disbelief. “Oh, like hell!”

She rolls down her window. “Stay away from me, okay? If you come near me, I’ll…I’ll call you out on harassment.”

“Kylie, I—”

“I hate you,” She spits. She rolls up her window and drives away, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I go down to the baseball field, dazed, and sit in the dugout, waiting for Coach Martin to call us together.

Why can’t Saturday come sooner? I want to be far, far away from this mess. I was only doing what was best for Kylie. That’s all I’ve ever done!

Slowly, the rest of the team shows up, and Coach Martin gives us a pep talk. We change into our uniforms and warm up on the field. I’m starting pitcher.

As the bleachers begin to fill, I search the crowd for Kylie, but I only spot Perry and my mom. I sigh, and soon the game begins.

I’m playing shit tonight. I can’t hit worth crap and keep walking players left and right. We’re down two runs in the bottom of the ninth inning when she shows up. She hangs on the edge of the crowd, probably watching more out of obligation than anything else.

I’m standing in the dugout, chugging down some water before heading out to bat. I see Kylie slip up to the top bleacher, a blanket wrapped around her frame. She notices my gaze and hesitates, slightly raising her hand in a wave, but she stops herself and reaches for her necklace instead, quickly looking away. I can’t help my smile. Something shifts inside me, and as I go out to bat, I know I’m going to slam it.

Sure enough, after two balls and a strike, the perfect pitch comes sailing my way. I drop my right shoulder and swing the bat with all my might. I can feel the power rippling throughout my body as the ball reverses and shoots toward deep left field. I hope Kylie’s watching as I round first base, barely touch second, and slide into third. I pant with one foot on base, and the third base coach congratulates me on my good hit.

The next two kids are walked. The bases are loaded, and Trent steps up to bat. He watches two good pitches zoom by. Nervously gripping the bat, with two strikes, Trent focuses in on the third pitch. He crunches the ball, and we all take off as it soars over the fence.

Grand slam! Not only have we caught up, but we’re now in the lead by two points. We continue to gain four more runs. Now all we have to do is hold ‘em, and we’ll win.

When the top of the ninth rolls around, I take my place on the mound. I briefly glance up to the top of the bleachers. Kylie is still sitting there. She must have seen me looking at her, for she drops her gaze, twisting her fingers around her hair, and pulls out her phone to check the time or something.

Brandon calls for a low slurve, and I deliver it to the unsuspecting batter. He swings and misses. One strike. Brandon takes a risk and calls for it again. I squelch the urge to shake my head the tiniest fraction, and do as he calls. Again, the batter swings and misses. Brandon calls for a high fastball. Again, I pitch, and the batter swings and misses. I feel relieved as the frustrated batter retreats to his dugout. Only two more outs to go.

Brandon calls for a fastball for the second batter. I pitch it and watch the ball reverse course and shoot toward Trent at second, who jumps for it. But he misses, and Taylor in center has to back him up. The batter makes it to second due to Taylor overthrowing to first.

I glare at Brandon, and he half shrugs as if to say it wasn’t his fault. We both know we better get the next two outs quickly and smoothly. The team’s starting to wear out.

The third batter smirks to the crowd and steps up to home plate, confidently wagging his bat in the air.

Brandon calls for a change-up, and I give it. The batter swings and foul-tips the ball. Brandon calls for a wide fastball, and I recognize what he’s doing. I nod and pitch. Brandon jumps for the ball and slings it toward Trent, who tags out the batter attempting to steal.

I pump my fist to the crowd and watch Kylie smile. Who’s smirking now?

The third batter leers at me through his face mask. Brandon calls for a slurve, and I pitch it. The batter watches the pitch sail over the plate, misjudging it as a ball. The umpire announces the strike, and the batter vaults out of the batter’s box. He nastily whips something to the umpire, who gets onto him for back-mouthing.

The batter steps back up to the plate, and this time Brandon calls for a low fastball. I shake my head at him, but Brandon remains adamant. It could easily be the game ball, and Brandon is playing it like a freaking game of chance!

I angrily sigh and wind up. I deliver the fastball low and right, just barely within the strike zone. The batter swings and misses, and the crowd immediately begins screaming in excitement—well, my high school’s crowd. The other team begins cussing the umpires out. I suck in a huge breath, relieved. I laugh and smack Brandon’s catching helmet.

“Close call!” I tell him.

“Nah, there was never any doubt you’d let that jackass hit the ball,” he chortles, flipping up the bill of my cap.

I gloat and join my team right outside the dugout. I look up to the bleachers and feel my heart sink. Kylie’s gone.

Hands clap my back and people congratulate me and smiles greet me and…I don’t feel the excitement anymore. None of it. Because tomorrow, at noon, I’m going back. Because Kylie wants me gone. Because I do what’s best for Kylie. Because I care. I’d rather be miserable than live knowing I made Kylie miserable. She’s my best friend, for heaven’s sakes. Who cares if I’m a star player here? I’ve lost my best friend.

My mom takes me to Bruster’s for ice cream and buys me my favorite: double cinnamon in a dipped waffle cone. I watch it melt in my hands.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” She asks me. “You just won the big game. You should be celebrating.”

“I lost my best friend, Mom. There’s nothing worth celebrating.”

She frowns at me. “Who? Kylie? She was there…She was cheering you on.”

“We had a fight, Mom.” I say. “She was just caught up in the spirit of things. She probably hates me again.”

Mom rubs my knee. “Have you tried talking to her, Carter? Maybe it’s just miscommunication.”

I shake my head. “No…she doesn’t want to see me anymore. We’re done.”

She pats my hand comfortingly. “I’m sorry, love. I know how much she means to you.”

I look at her and smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Eat your ice cream, Carter. That cost me over four dollars.” She commands, dropping the subject.

I sigh and comply. Eating ice cream always clears my head, so it’s no surprise that I fall asleep that night clearheaded.

When I wake up, I tell my mom I’m going for a walk in the park. I stroll around for half an hour, keeping an eye out for Perry, and wind up sitting on a bench in the middle of the park. I stare at the huge oak tree across from me.I know why I hated being a girl, and I know why I asked Perry to send me here—I know why.

But for the very same reason, I’m going back.

“You don’t want to do this.”

I look up and see Perry leaning against the huge oak.

“Why not?” I ask him.

“Because you like it better here.”

“What I like doesn’t matter, Perry,” I reply, looking away.

“So you’ll have done all this for nothing?”

I shake my head. “No, not for nothing.”

“So you have learned something.”

I nod, glancing up at him.

Perry looks at me. “Then why are you here?”

I frown. “I’m doing what’s best for Kylie.”

Perry crosses over and sits on the bench with me.

“Are we going back now?” I ask him.

He studies me. “No.”

“What? Why not?”

Perry stands up. “I’m doing what’s best for you,” he says, walking away.

I jump up. “Perry!”

He turns around. “What?”

“Where are you going? Why won’t you take me back?”

“I’m going to a marvelous garden party, and you’re not invited.” Perry says.

I narrow my eyes at him.

“If you love her, man, what the hell are you doing here?”

I stare at him.

Perry gives me one of those looks that say get going, idiot. “Look, you tried doing what’s best for her, but I’m doing what’s best for you. You need to stay and love her, mate. Other Carter is sucking faces with Trent Woodward anyway. Everything worked out just like you wanted it to. Now, get your ass in gear before she slips away.”

I stare at him a little longer.

“Go!” He shoves me back toward my house.

I blink, pausing to think about this. He’s right. I came here so that I could properly love Kylie. That’s why I’m here. That’s what I should do.

I take off for her house, calling over my shoulder, “Thanks!”

But Perry’s already gone, the oval portal closing behind him.

I sprint all the way to Kylie’s house and knock on the door. I lean on both knees, panting, waiting for someone to answer the door. I glance at my watch. It reads 12:01 pm. Come on, Kylie, answer the door, dammit!

Suddenly the lock creaks, and the door swings open. I look up and see Kylie standing there in pajama pants and a purple camisole. Her eyes are red from crying, and I immediately stand up straight.

“Hey,” she croaks, surprised. “Carter, I…”

“Listen, Kylie, there’s something I have to tell you,” I say, words tumbling out of my mouth.

She nods. “Why don’t you come in?” She offers, sniffing.

I step inside and study her face a moment.

She places a hand to her forehead in embarrassment and sobs, “Carter, look, I’m so sorry. I…I should never have said—”

“Don’t,” I say. I shake my head and gently take her in my arms. “It’s okay.”

Her eyes flutter closed in relief, and she smiles, throwing her arms around my neck.

As I kick her front door shut, I whisper in her ear, “I love you.” I pull her lips to mine and kiss her, not holding back any longer.

“I love you, Kylie.” I repeat. “I love you so much.”