Switch Mitchell’s - Chapter 8

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Most of the downtown businesses were closed. It was a cool evening, and there was no one on the streets. Worse, Michelle was disoriented and had run in a direction away from the main streets. She was completely unfamiliar with the twisting series of alleys she currently found herself in. She hadn’t seen another human being since she entered and didn’t think she would approach one if she did. Michelle took a quick peek behind her. She couldn’t see her pursuers, but she could hear them not far behind.

She’d managed to get at least a full turn ahead of them. This offered her some hope! If she could make a turn, and get them to go the wrong way, she might just get away. Michelle spotted exactly what she was hoping for, halfway down the next street.

There was a small alley leading off to the left. If these guys assumed she went straight, she would lose them. Michelle turned left into the alley, and ran full speed, Into a dead end. She turned back but heard her pursuers making the last turn.

Desperately, she looked around the alley. There was a door; she tried it, but it was locked. A couple of quick thumps brought no response. She heard the sound of pursuit, only seconds away. There was a dumpster at the end of the alley. Without considering the consequences, Michelle jumped in and listened intently. “Come on, he went this way,” she heard from the end of the alley.

It was difficult to make out anything over the pounding of her own heart. “No, wait, I heard something down here.” “It’s a dead end, he didn’t go down there!” “Let’s just check it out.” Quiet for a few seconds, “I can’t hear him running anymore. We lost him.” “So, let’s check out the alley.” “For what?” A pause. “Door’s locked.” Several thumps.

“Over here, guys, see what I found!” Michelle looked up, to see three faces looking down at her. “Oh yeah!” yelled Jerry. “A freak in the trash! Looks good on you, freak!” Jerry slammed the lid the reverberations nearly deafened Michelle. Jerry jumped up on top of the dumpster, yelling, “Oh yeah, this freak is going to die!” while leaping up and down.

The others kicked the sides of the dumpster and pounded it with broken bricks they found on the ground. Michelle screamed although it was unlikely anyone heard her. “Scuse’a me,” said a small man in a white apron from the previously locked door. “Wha’ d’you think you doin’?” The three stopped their pounding and turned to the little man.

Jerry jumped down from the dumpster and spoke. “None of your business, Short Order!” he said. The man looked around the alley, and then at the door behind him. “This is my business,” he said, indicating the door.

“So I think, this isn’t my business.” “Look, Short Order,” said Jerry menacingly. “We got no problem with you, so just get back in your little hole.” “Now,” said the man, “I think maybe I got a problem with you.” Two very large men with meat cleavers emerged from the doorway to stand behind the man. Jerry and his friends looked up in surprise. Slowly they passed the three men, cautiously heading for the street. The little man watched as they ran down the street.

Jerry called back, “This isn’t over, freak!” Then they disappeared around the corner. Michelle lay in the filthy, greasy restaurant remnants, and listened. She tried hard not to breathe, for at least two reasons. “What was that all about?” said one of the large men. “Kids,” said the little man. “Who knows what gets into them. Smoke?” Michelle waited while the three took a break from their work.

Then she waited a long time after they had left. She would wait until she felt safe again. Michelle waited a long, long time.

Julie stepped out of the back seat, onto her driveway, and closed the door behind her. Mitchell rolled down the window so he could speak to her. “Goodbye, Julie,” he said. “Goodbye, Michelle, Steve,” Julie replied. “I had a really I mean, it was really a, an interesting night,” she finally settled on. “I know,” apologized Mitchell, “that it wasn’t the evening we thought it would be. Just, everything went wrong. But please, please, please don’t blame Mitchell. It was it was all my fault!

Yes, like usual, it was all my fault. So please give Mitchell another chance!” Julie laughed, warming Mitchell’s heart. “You and your brother must be very close,” she said. “Okay, because you’re such a good friend, I can give him another chance. To tell the truth, I’m sort of curious to see what might happen next!” Steve pulled the car out and onto the street, where they watched as Julie ran up and into her house.

He put the car in park and turned to Mitchell. “Don’t worry about me, Michelle,” he said. “I’m having a wonderful evening.” “Just drive me home,” said Mitchell in exasperation. “But the night is still young,” said Steve. “I’d like to pick up where we left off, in the restaurant. I know a great place to park.

Quiet, a beautiful view of the city…” “Stop right there!” said Mitchell, removing Steve’s hand from his thigh. “This night is over, understand? OVER, over! You are going to drive me home, and if one of your monkey paws so much as brushes against me I am going to break it off!” Steve pulled back, assessing the situation. Finally, he put the car into drive and pulled away from Julie’s home. “Sure, Michelle,” he said reassuringly. “You’ve had a difficult night, I can understand that.

I’ll just take you home. You obviously need to, look out!” Steve slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Mitchell was thrown forward, but Steve threw out his right hand to stop him. When his heart stopped racing, Mitchell turned to Steve. “What was that all about?!” he demanded. “A cat, in the road,” said Steve. “That poor animal, we almost hit it.” “There was no cat in the road,” said Mitchell.

“Oh yes, there was,” said Steve. “I barely stopped in time.” Mitchell looked down, to where Steve’s hand was still holding his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?” “It’s all right,” said Steve. “I saved you.” He still didn’t remove his hand, but instead, his fingers began to examine the lace edging of Mitchell’s brassiere. Realization dawned on Mitchell’s face. “You pig!” he cried, grabbing Steve’s hand from his breast and tossing it at him. “You disgusting pig!

You did that just to get a quick feel!” “No, Michelle, that’s not,” said Steve, but it was too late. Mitchell had left the car and was screaming at him from the sidewalk. “You creepy little pervert! You nauseating heap of dog vomit! Don’t you ever come near me again, do you hear?”

Steve put the car into drive and raced off into the night. Mitchell continued to rant, even as Steve turned the corner and disappeared. When Mitchell finally managed to stop screaming, he realized the only sound was his own labored breathing. He also realized he was miles from home, in the middle of the night, without a ride.

Mitchell sniffled, then turned, and walked back down the street to Julie’s house. Michelle closed the front door behind her. She was finally home finally, completely safe. With a sigh of relief, she turned the lock and then headed for the stairs. “Mitchell?” said her mother, emerging from the kitchen. “Is everything okay, dear?

You’re home so late, and you didn’t call, I was worried.” “Sorry, Mom,” said Michelle, sounding very tired. “I ran into some trouble, but everything’s fine now. I have to talk to Michelle for a few minutes, then I’m going to bed.” She turned to continue up the stairs. “Alright dear,” said her Mother. “That sounds like a good idea. Except Michelle isn’t here.” Michelle stopped again and turned.

This time she sounded wide awake as she said, “Michelle isn’t here? Where is she?” “She had some trouble with her ride,” explained her mother. “She’s staying over at a friend’s house.” “What friend? Where does she live?” asked Michelle, racing to the front door as she pulled out her car keys. Mrs. Everett placed a motherly hand over Michelle’s and smiled.

“She’s staying with a girl named Julie,” she explained as she took the keys from Michelle’s hand. “I don’t know where she lives, and if I did, it’s too late to pick up your sister tonight. The girls are probably asleep in bed already, which is where you should be. So, scoot upstairs and get into bed!” There was nothing else for her to do. Michelle went upstairs, washed off as much filth as she could, threw Mitchell’s clothes into the laundry, changed into his pajamas, climbed into his bed, and fell asleep.

Ground Zero “Michelle! Sleepy-head, get up already!” Mitchell opened his eyes. He was lying in a sea of pink sheets, in a room decorated with soft pastel colors, lacy curtains, and stuffed animals. Looking up, he saw Julie, dressed only in panties, sitting on the side of the bed and doing up her bra. He was starting to get used to these situations and was not surprised to find that he was wearing a baby yellow, shorty pajama set with lace bloomers and a baby doll top.

Mitchell quickly covered his aroused interest with the bed sheets. “Julie,” he said groggily. “What time is it? It’s only seven! Wake me in about an hour, okay?” He put his head back on the pillow and was almost asleep again. “Oh no, you don’t!” said Julie, grabbing the covers and tearing them off of Mitchell. “I let you sleep while I had my shower, but we both have to get ready for school!

Come on, you need to wash your hair, then dry it, and style it. We both need makeup and to choose a dress for you. Come on, let’s go!”

Mitchell sat up beside Julie, rather than continue to lie exposed on the bed. “Okay, I’m up. What’s first then? Shower, and wash my hair, that’s what you said, right?” “Right,” agreed Julie, as she stood and gave Mitchell a hand up from the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, but if we’re both going to get ready on time, I’m going to have to do my makeup while you shower.

You don’t mind sharing the bathroom, do you?” “No!” said Mitchell. “Well, no, I mean, of course, I don’t mind, that is, I can’t think of any reason” “Good, come on, I’ll get you a towel!” Now this was going to be a challenge. “Mitchell! Sleepy-head, get up already!” Michelle opened her eyes and looked around Mitchell’s room. Everything was in dark shades, black and gray. Piles of clothes and junk lay everywhere; the walls were decorated with posters of supermodels and grunge bands.

Looking up, she saw her mother sitting on the edge of the bed, gently massaging her back and shoulders. Looking down, she remembered she was wearing her brother’s flannel pajama bottoms and a loose black T-shirt. Michelle quickly grabbed the sheets and pulled them to cover her chest. “Mom,” she said as she sat up, refreshed from a good night’s sleep. “What time is it?

It’s 8:15! How could you let me sleep this late?” “Relax,” said her mother. “You always get up at this time. What’s the matter, sweety?” “Well, I mean,” stammered Michelle. “I mean, I have to do my hair, and, and” “Do your hair?” asked her mother curiously. “Do you mean wash it? You always wash your hair at night, and I know you washed it a couple of days ago.” “A couple of days ago?” said Michelle. “Just how often do I wash my hair?” Her mother had to think about this. “I guess once, sometimes twice a week? Now stop all this foolishness.

You get dressed and downstairs; you have to leave for school in fifteen minutes.” “Fifteen minutes to get ready for school?” said Michelle after her mother had left. “Sleeping until eight? Washing his hair once a week? This is one sweet life he has going!” Michelle threw on a baggy shirt and black jeans over her sports bra and a pair of boxer shorts and was ready for school.

“You’re late, Miss Everett.” Mitchell staggered into class, unused to balancing his load of schoolbooks while navigating the classroom in his high heels. “I’m sorry, sir,” he apologized. “I had some trouble at my locker, it took me a while…” “Never mind, just take your seat,” he was told.

Mitchell found his way to his sister’s seat, next to his own, where Michelle now sat dressed as him. Michelle watched as he sat, then looked him up and down, an expression of disgust on her face. “What?” Mitchell mouthed at her. He didn’t know what she had to complain about. At least she was dressed in clothes she could name.

And Mitchell felt he was actually managing to do a fairly good job on his hair, makeup, and clothes. After he had washed and dried his hair, Julie had helped him to brush and style it, and he had done the same for her. He was getting used to doing his makeup, having had it done a few times now, and having done it for himself a couple of times as well.

And the dress Julie had found for him was absolutely adorable. The soft, stretchy white fabric clung to his every curve. The belt pulled his waist in tight under his ribs. The white sleeves ended just below his elbows, where they became black and white striped sleeves that continued to his wrists.

Similarly, the white skirt ended below his hips, where it continued in black and white stripes to fingertip length. In short, it was the cutest dress you could possibly imagine. Michelle continued to look at him as if he were wearing a burlap bag. Mitchell decided to ignore her.

He crossed his legs into the aisle and turned to face the front of the class. “Alright,” began the teacher. “If you would all please stand, and exit in an orderly fashion. Bring your things, as we won’t be returning to the classroom.” Michelle and Mitchell looked around, unsure what was happening.

No one else seemed surprised, however. Mitchell picked up his purse and books and followed the crowd out the classroom door. “Nadia, where are we going?” asked Mitchell as he caught up with Nadia. “It’s in the cafeteria this year,” Nadia told him. “What? What’s in the cafeteria?” asked Mitchell as he was jostled down the hallway in his three-inch heels. “School pictures, of course,” he was informed. “You remembered it’s picture day, right? That’s why you changed your hair and the new makeup? I really like your dress, by the way. I thought you were going to wear your new, pink mini-dress for pictures? I think this was a good choice, though.” “Picture day? Oh, no,” said Mitchell.

With everything else that had happened, he had completely forgotten. “Mitchell,” said Michelle, as she caught up to her brother. “Michelle,” she corrected herself when she received a few odd looks. She grabbed Mitchell’s arm and drew him aside. “Today is picture day!” said Michelle, quietly but urgently.

The two continued to walk with the crowd toward the cafeteria. “No kidding, what was your first clue?” replied Mitchell. “Come on, we can change in the washroom.” “Change?” said Michelle, as if this would never have occurred to her. “No way, I’m not going to change with you! Do you think I want to get my picture taken with this hair? No, you’re going to have to be me for my picture.” “You are so unbelievable!” shouted Mitchell, drawing attention to their argument.

He continued quietly, “I want my life back! So if you don’t want to change, what is it you want from me?” “You’re completely ruining picture day for me! I had a dress picked out for this, you know.” “Yes, I do know. There’s no time for me to change into your pink mini-dress, though, even if I had it with me. Besides, Nadia says this dress is a better choice.” “Did Nadia also tell you that your hair is flat and lifeless, and your makeup is all wrong?”

“Julie and I worked on my hair together this morning, and I happen to like it. It’s my hair, and you have nothing to say about it.” “No, it’s my hair! It’s my photo, going in my graduation yearbook above my name, and you’re ruining it!” “And I happen to think my makeup looks great,” said Mitchell with obvious pride. “Maybe if you’re trying to blend into a crowd. This is my yearbook photo!

I need to stand out! Why haven’t you used my glossy red lipstick? And did you use any eyeliner at all?” “Just back off, Mitchell,” Mitchell told his sister. “I worked hard on my makeup this morning, and I’m actually getting good at it. I’m not changing a single thing for this photo.” “Give me your brush!” said Michelle, lunging for her brother’s purse. “Just let me fix your hair!”

“No!” replied Mitchell, grabbing his purse back. “I am not going to stand in line, while everyone watches my brother brush my hair!” “Mr. Everett, Miss Everett, is there a problem here?” Mitchell and Michelle stopped fighting over the purse and looked up. Michelle was left holding the purse but quickly handed it back to her brother. “No sir,” they said in unison to their teacher. “That’s good, I’m glad because it looked like a problem. Since it isn’t, the two of you should be able to stand quietly and wait your turn, is that right?”

“Yes, sir,” they replied as they stared at the floor. Their teacher walked away but made it clear that he was still watching them closely. Michelle and Mitchell quietly waited in line, slowly moving toward the photographer at the front of the cafeteria. Eventually, it was Michelle’s turn, so Mitchell walked forward and sat for his sister’s photo.

He posed and smiled, was told he was beautiful by the photographer, and then stepped into the hall to wait for his sister. A few minutes later Michelle walked out to join him. “I think you’ll be happy with your picture,” he said kindly to reassure her. “How did mine go?” “Not so good,” answered Michelle with a belligerent tone. “I think he took the picture when I had my eyes closed. Oh, and I think my thumb may have been up my nose.”

“You ruined my photo?” said Mitchell in disbelief. “After you ruined mine,” answered Michelle. “Now come on, let’s find a place to change. That dress will have to be done for today. I suppose I can get by with whatever makeup you have in that purse as well. Maybe I can borrow something decent from Nadia.” Mitchell was outraged. “Now you want to change?

=You humiliated me forever by having me photographed like this, then ruined my photo, and now you think is the right time to change?” “Don’t be such a spoiled little girl,” said Michelle. “Now is the perfect time, we have at least half an hour till our next class.” Mitchell took a moment to calm himself, then said, “Fine. I know the perfect place to do this.

We just need to stop by my locker to collect something first.” “Whatever,” said Michelle. Michelle and Mitchell walked quickly to Mitchell’s locker, where he picked up his sports bag. From there, Mitchell led them to the hallway behind the gymnasium. “Where are we going?” asked Michelle. “The locker room?

What if a class comes in?” “Relax,” said Mitchell. “I have something better in mind.” Mitchell led Michelle past the locker room, around the bend to the short hallway leading to the coach’s office. Where they found the coach. “Everett!” shouted Coach Horton. “Nice of you to show up! Where have you been?”

Michelle looked at Mitchell, unsure what was going on. “He’s talking to you,” said Mitchell, looking at his sister with a delighted grin on his pretty face. “Me? I was, uh” stammered Michelle. “It’s picture day.” “The team gets their pictures tomorrow, after class,” she was told. “You knew that, Everett.

Fortunately, the bus was late, so you didn’t miss it. Now get out there!” “I guess we get another chance at that picture after all,” Mitchell told her. Michelle stood with her mouth open as he continued, “I had hoped to spare you from this, but you were just so helpful this morning.

Here’s your uniform.” “Remind me,” said Michelle, accepting Mitchell’s sports bag. “What sport do you play again?” “Rugby,” replied Mitchell. “Good luck in the tournament!” “Come on, Everett,” said the coach, grabbing Michelle by the collar and dragging her out to the bus. “You can play hopscotch with the little girls later.” Mitchell was left alone in the hallway, where he crossed his arms below his prominent chest, and smiled a very satisfied smile.

Of course, he realized that he was now stuck playing Michelle all day, but. “That was so totally worth it!” he said, then spun on his heels and headed to Michelle’s next class.