It wasn’t the swap itself that was bad. It was not knowing if our lives had changed permanently—if we had each become a different person entirely—and the thing that every human being takes for granted, “being yourself,” was suddenly not an option for us anymore.

It was the possibility of forever that scared us.

Before this mess, I “never saw” my parents. But that was hyperbole because of course I saw them sometimes. They had to buy fucking groceries occasionally and stock the refrigerator and pantry to ward off Child Protective Services. But now it had been a month—one whole month—and I had not seen my parents, and it made me want to cry.

The crying part was probably also due to the fact that I was on my period again. (It was that time of the month!) I was cramping like a motherfucker, my boobs were more sensitive than my feelings, and Jesus, my feelings were out of control.

On the plus side, after last month, I liked to think I had become a minor-league expert at tampons. (No, Wynonna didn’t help me after the first time.) I resolved to figure this shit out on my own. I read dozens of online articles. I practiced. I even examined the Port of Entry with a handheld mirror.

And I bought lots and lots and lots of tampons.

I had them in my purse, in my locker, and the motherlode stashed in Wynonna’s bathroom at home. I bought some pads, too, but I quickly decided that I didn’t like those. Yeah, they were “noninvasive,” but they also made me feel like I was wearing a tiny diaper. And if you put the tampon in right—and, I had learned, the wrong size tampon gave plenty of opportunity to put it in not right—it hardly felt like it was there.

Imogen still wasn’t talking to us.

Holden still wasn’t talking to me.

Holden and Wynezra, however, had made a truce. Holden obviously didn’t believe that we had swapped bodies, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge either, so they made up shortly after the double date.

He didn’t ask who Wynezra thought she really was. And Wynezra never told him.

Wynezra did ask, however, if I could sit with them at lunch. Holden said he wasn’t ready for that. So she asked if she could take turns every other day, sitting with him, then sitting with me. He said that was fine.

Wynezra asked me if that seating arrangement was okay.

It was the last day of my first period, so naturally, I was on the brink of tears.

“W-w-w-why are you asking me?” I said. “Do what you w-w-w-want. I don’t care.”

That was another thing: Wynezra had become surprisingly considerate of me. I’d say we became friends, but it honestly felt like something different.

Something more.