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Authors: Jessica Shirvington
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keep some warmth in there. But definitely blonde.’
The stylist forced a smile, looking at me like she was having second thoughts about her career choice. I sympathised, but held my ground. I wasn’t going to let the hairdresser have freerein in this life. It was essential that my new hair be Wellesley appropriate.
While she shampooed and conditioned my hair with all-organic products, I finally let my mind slide into murky waters. The thing was, now that I was in this new situation, I couldn’t imagine a way back. Not knowing what I now knew.
All my life, there’d been no choice. I lived two lives and that was it. Never just one or the other – broken in two and all alone. But now … now there was a chance. Hope. The possibility of a normal existence.
If the physical parts of me were not connected … If what I did in one life in no way affected the other … If I could bleed in one and not the other, cut off parts of myself, dye them different colours … If I could take laxatives and get drunk and have none of those things cause any reaction in my other body, then to some degree – a very relevant degree – I was two separate bodies. And if I was two separate bodies … and one of me was to stop existing … the other should continue.
And I’d have just the one life.
But …
There was still one more test to carry out before things could go any further.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wellesley, Saturday / Roxbury, Sunday
M y new blonde hair, styled the way it had been crying out to be for so long in this world, did not disappoint.
When Mom saw me, she was so delighted she forgot all about being unhappy with me and shooed me away when I offered to help with the cleaning up.
A multi-level victory.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to visit Miriam and Lucy for a gloat session. Or better yet, Dex. I was certain he would forgive my strange behaviour last night when he saw the new me. But I was dead on my feet after the three-hour makeover and still had a hangover migraine. Bed was the only option.
Lying back on my silk sheets in the early evening, confidence on high, I decided on my next move.
It was a risk.
But if I could get through this final test, I would have options I’d never thought possible. I considered setting an alarm to wake me up before the Shift, but I was so tired I couldn’t be bothered. Waking up groggy in this world or the next, it made little difference right now and at least I wouldn’t have to go through the pre-Shift jitters.
The transition turned out to be the smoothest in days. I’d been fast asleep in my Wellesley world when I Shifted back to Roxbury. Normally the conflict of a sleeping mind being thrust into an alert physical body was disorienting to the extreme. But I was so exhausted, I was almost numb to the change. Post-Shift I simply registered my still-broken arm, the cuts aching on my leg, belly and arm, and then rode the adjustment period, dropping off to sleep soon after in my grey flannel sheets.
I’m sure I could’ve slept for hours, but instead my sleep was seriously interrupted as, several frantic times, I paid for my sins.
The laxatives had kicked in.
By the time I had no fluid left in my body, I crawled back into bed with every intention of spending the entire day sleeping it off. Maddie, however, had other ideas.
By mid-morning she was bouncing persistently on the end of my bed. At first I mumbled for her to go away and buried my head under the blankets, but then I remembered that today was … well, today .
I had things to do.
‘Binie, come on, get up! Mom says you have to come down and see her before she goes to work.’
I groaned, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. Everything hurt.
‘I didn’t think she was working today,’ I muttered.
Maddie just shrugged and took one final jump on the bed, landing on her butt beside me. ‘Said she’s going in with Dad to do something.’
‘Oh,’ I said, still sifting through my thoughts. ‘What are you up to
The stylist forced a smile, looking at me like she was having second thoughts about her career choice. I sympathised, but held my ground. I wasn’t going to let the hairdresser have freerein in this life. It was essential that my new hair be Wellesley appropriate.
While she shampooed and conditioned my hair with all-organic products, I finally let my mind slide into murky waters. The thing was, now that I was in this new situation, I couldn’t imagine a way back. Not knowing what I now knew.
All my life, there’d been no choice. I lived two lives and that was it. Never just one or the other – broken in two and all alone. But now … now there was a chance. Hope. The possibility of a normal existence.
If the physical parts of me were not connected … If what I did in one life in no way affected the other … If I could bleed in one and not the other, cut off parts of myself, dye them different colours … If I could take laxatives and get drunk and have none of those things cause any reaction in my other body, then to some degree – a very relevant degree – I was two separate bodies. And if I was two separate bodies … and one of me was to stop existing … the other should continue.
And I’d have just the one life.
But …
There was still one more test to carry out before things could go any further.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wellesley, Saturday / Roxbury, Sunday
M y new blonde hair, styled the way it had been crying out to be for so long in this world, did not disappoint.
When Mom saw me, she was so delighted she forgot all about being unhappy with me and shooed me away when I offered to help with the cleaning up.
A multi-level victory.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to visit Miriam and Lucy for a gloat session. Or better yet, Dex. I was certain he would forgive my strange behaviour last night when he saw the new me. But I was dead on my feet after the three-hour makeover and still had a hangover migraine. Bed was the only option.
Lying back on my silk sheets in the early evening, confidence on high, I decided on my next move.
It was a risk.
But if I could get through this final test, I would have options I’d never thought possible. I considered setting an alarm to wake me up before the Shift, but I was so tired I couldn’t be bothered. Waking up groggy in this world or the next, it made little difference right now and at least I wouldn’t have to go through the pre-Shift jitters.
The transition turned out to be the smoothest in days. I’d been fast asleep in my Wellesley world when I Shifted back to Roxbury. Normally the conflict of a sleeping mind being thrust into an alert physical body was disorienting to the extreme. But I was so exhausted, I was almost numb to the change. Post-Shift I simply registered my still-broken arm, the cuts aching on my leg, belly and arm, and then rode the adjustment period, dropping off to sleep soon after in my grey flannel sheets.
I’m sure I could’ve slept for hours, but instead my sleep was seriously interrupted as, several frantic times, I paid for my sins.
The laxatives had kicked in.
By the time I had no fluid left in my body, I crawled back into bed with every intention of spending the entire day sleeping it off. Maddie, however, had other ideas.
By mid-morning she was bouncing persistently on the end of my bed. At first I mumbled for her to go away and buried my head under the blankets, but then I remembered that today was … well, today .
I had things to do.
‘Binie, come on, get up! Mom says you have to come down and see her before she goes to work.’
I groaned, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. Everything hurt.
‘I didn’t think she was working today,’ I muttered.
Maddie just shrugged and took one final jump on the bed, landing on her butt beside me. ‘Said she’s going in with Dad to do something.’
‘Oh,’ I said, still sifting through my thoughts. ‘What are you up to
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