Jake's POV
I dumped an entire bag of salt on Maya's dorm room floor.
"What are you doing?" Maya asked in my voice, watching me from the doorway.
"Making a circle." I arranged the salt into a perfect ring. "Emma said her grandmother knows about magic. She told me salt breaks curses."
"That's for demons, not body-switching!" Maya said, but she stepped inside the circle anyway.
We stood facing each other—me in her small body, her in my tall one. I closed my eyes and concentrated as hard as I could. Switch back, switch back, switch back.
Nothing happened.
"Try holding hands," Emma suggested from her bed. She'd been surprisingly calm about the whole thing, which was weird.
Maya—in my body—reached out with my big hands and grabbed her small ones. The touch felt strange, like holding my own hand but different.
"Now what?" Maya asked.
"Now we..." I had no idea. "Wish really hard?"
We stood there for five minutes, wishing and hoping and praying.
Nothing.
"This is stupid!" I dropped Maya's hands and kicked the salt circle, destroying it. "None of this works! We've tried everything!"
"We haven't tried everything," Maya said quietly. "We haven't tried finding Victoria."
"The police are looking for her!" I started pacing, which was harder in Maya's shorter body. "If they can't find her, how are we supposed to?"
"I don't know! But we can't just give up!"
"Why not?" The words burst out of me, high and panicked in Maya's voice. "Maybe this is my punishment. Maybe I deserve to be trapped in your body forever because of what I did to you!"
Maya's—my—face softened. "Jake..."
"No, it's true!" Tears burned behind Maya's eyes, and I couldn't stop them from falling. "I was horrible to you. I laughed at you, I let my friends record it, I made you feel so awful that you got in a car with a dangerous stranger. This is all my fault!"
"Stop." Maya sat down on Emma's bed, and seeing my own body move so gently was weird. "Yes, you were cruel. Yes, you hurt me. But this?" She gestured between us. "This isn't justice. This is insane."
"Maybe insane is what I deserve."
"Nobody deserves this." Maya's voice—my voice—was firm. "Not even you."
Emma cleared her throat. "So... what's the plan? You can't hide this forever."
She was right. We'd already been switched for six hours. People were going to notice eventually.
"We keep it secret," Maya said. "At least until we figure out how to switch back."
"How?" I demanded. "I don't know how to be you! I don't know your schedule, your friends, your life!"
"And I don't know how to be you," Maya shot back. "But we don't have a choice. The text said 48 hours. That means we have to survive as each other until tomorrow night."
"The tournament is in five days," I said, my stomach twisting. "What if we're still switched? What if I have to watch you ruin my future?"
Maya's expression hardened. "I won't ruin it."
"You've never played hockey in your life!"
"Then teach me!" Maya stood up, and my body towered over me. It was so weird being shorter than everyone. "You want to survive as me? I'll help you. But you have to help me survive as you."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to say it was impossible, that we should just tell everyone the truth and let them deal with it.
But looking at Maya—at my own determined face—I realized something.
She was braver than I'd ever been.
"Okay," I said finally. "We help each other. But if this goes wrong—"
"It won't," Maya interrupted. "It can't."
---
We spent the next two hours going over everything. Maya taught me her class schedule, showed me where she kept her homework, explained her job at the campus library. I taught her hockey basics, explained my training routine, warned her about which teammates to avoid.
"Marcus is loud but harmless," I said. "Tyler is the one you have to watch out for. He likes to test new people."
"Great," Maya muttered, writing everything down in her notebook. "What about Brittany?"
My stomach clenched. "What about her?"
"She's your girlfriend. I'm going to have to..." Maya made a face. "You know. Act like your girlfriend."
"Just avoid her," I said quickly. "Tell her you need space to focus on the tournament."
"Won't that seem suspicious?"
"Brittany always thinks I'm suspicious." I sighed. "She's been mad at me since the video anyway."
Maya looked up from her notes. "Why did you do it? Really?"
"Do what?"
"Humiliate me like that." Her eyes—my eyes—were serious. "You could have just said no thank you. You didn't have to be cruel."
I wanted to make excuses. To say I was stressed about the tournament, or that my friends expected it, or that I didn't mean for it to go that far.
But sitting here in Maya's body, feeling how small she was, how vulnerable, I couldn't lie.
"I was scared," I admitted.
"Of what?"
"Of you." The words came out as a whisper. "Of what it would mean if I was nice to you. My friends would think I was soft. Brittany would be jealous. And you..." I looked away. "You reminded me of someone I used to be. Someone weak and scared who got pushed around. And I hated that part of myself, so I took it out on you."
Silence filled the room.
"That's the most honest thing you've ever said," Maya finally said.
"Being in your body makes it easier to tell the truth," I said. "It's like... I don't have to perform anymore."
"That's how I always feel in my body," Maya said quietly. "Like the real me is locked inside, too scared to come out."
We looked at each other, and for the first time, I saw her. Really saw her. Not as some annoying fan or weak omega, but as a person. A person I'd hurt badly.
"I'm sorry," I said. "For everything."
"I know," Maya said. "And I forgive you. But only if you help me not fail your life."
"Deal."
Emma's phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and her face went pale.
"Guys? You need to see this."
She turned her laptop around. On the screen was a news report:
"BODY-SWITCHING EPIDEMIC: Five More Students Report Waking Up in Wrong Bodies"
Maya and I stared at the screen in horror.
"We're not the only ones," Maya whispered.
"This is bigger than Victoria," I said, my heart pounding. "This is something else."
Emma clicked on another article. This one had a photo of a symbol—a circle with strange markings inside.
"Police found this symbol drawn in salt at all the victims' homes," Emma read. "Experts say it's an ancient curse used to teach empathy to those who lack it."
The room started spinning.
"Lack empathy," I repeated. "Like bullies. Like people who hurt others without caring."
Maya's face was grim. "The other victims. Are they all..."
Emma scrolled through the article. "Star quarterback. Head cheerleader. Class president known for being ruthless. Student council treasurer caught embezzling..." She looked up. "They're all people who hurt someone else."
"This isn't random," Maya said. "Someone is deliberately switching bullies with their victims."
"But why?" I asked. "What's the point?"
My phone—Maya's phone—buzzed with a new text from the unknown number:
You're starting to understand. But understanding isn't enough. In 36 hours, you'll face your final test. Jake must publicly apologize to Maya for what he did. Maya must score the winning goal in the tournament. Fail either task, and every switched person in this town stays switched forever. Including you.
"That's impossible!" I shouted. "How can I apologize to Maya when I'm IN Maya's body? And how can she score a goal when she's never played hockey?"
Another text appeared: Figure it out. Or everyone suffers.
Maya and I looked at each other, the weight of what we'd just learned crushing down on us.
This wasn't just about us anymore.
Seven other people were trapped in wrong bodies because of what we'd started.
And if we failed, they'd all stay that way forever.