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Class 3B, Tuesday, morning. Another day in this hell I call my life. It's been a month since I got stuck in the body of this Polish cleaning lady, Apolonia Kowalska. And here I am, standing with a rag in my hand, trying not to lose my mind from boredom and humiliation. Dust on the tables, crumbs on the floor, obscene drawings on the board — these little bastards are clearly messing with me. But what can I do? I'm no longer Mike O'Connor, the cool guy with a sarcastic sense of humor and a love for dark jokes. Now I'm Apolonia, a short, modest cleaning lady with an accent, who struggles to speak English.
— Good morning, Sexy pani Mop! — a voice came from behind me.
I froze, nearly dropping the rag. "Sexy pani Mop"? Seriously? These little assholes don't even try to be original. I slowly turned around to see who decided to show off their "wit" this time.
At the entrance to the class stood Erik — one of the loudest students, the eternal clown. His cap was on backwards, his backpack hung off one shoulder, and in his hands was a phone he clearly never parted with. His buddies crowded behind him, immediately bursting into laughter.
— What you say? — I said with the strongest Polish accent.
Erik grinned like he'd just won the lottery. His friends were almost falling over with laughter, elbowing each other and whispering something about "Sexy pani Mop". I could feel my anger boiling inside me. But what could I do? I can't just tell them to fuck off like I used to. Now I’m Apolonia, and she, according to the dossier, is non-confrontational.
— I say "Good morning, Mrs. nice racks and sweet booty," — Erik started again, mocking my accent.
I frowned, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. Racks? Booty? Was this their new slang? Or had they just made up another stupid joke?
— Mrs... what? — I asked, feeling my brain start to overheat.
Erik, seeing my confusion, grinned even wider, while his friends laughed even louder, like a pack of hyenas. Apparently, the whole point of their joke was that I didn’t get the hint.
— I say — cool jugs! You know, knockers, balls!— Erik continued, gesturing to his chest.
For a second, my brain froze. "Tits, balls"? Seriously? These little bastards are talking about my breasts now? I felt my face flush. The rag in my hand was clenched so tightly that my fingers started to hurt.
— What?! — I almost screamed, barely holding back my outrage.
Erik burst into laughter, so loud that the echo bounced around the class. His friends were literally rolling over each other, leaning against the walls, clutching their stomachs.
— Relax, Pani, it's just a joke! — Erik managed between laughs, wiping away an imaginary tear.
I could feel my face burning. My whole body was tense, the rag in my hand so tightly clenched that my fingers were aching. They were clearly saying something bad, but what the hell was it?!
— This... this no joke! This... bad! — I blurted out, struggling to find words in English. But my attempts only fueled their laughter.
I was about ready to throw the rag down and give these little shits a lesson, but just then the door to the classroom opened. I didn’t immediately notice, but then I heard a melodic, bright voice, and I froze.
— Excuse me, is this room 3B? — she said, slowly scanning the class.
I turned around and froze. It was her. Stephanie. My world seemed to collapse. It was her. It was her. Stephanie. But not the same Stephanie I knew.
More like her new version. A fifteen-year-old girl with long blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail. Her blue eyes still reminded me of the ones I’d stared into so many times. But now they belonged to a schoolgirl, who looked perfectly confident and calm. She wore a plaid skirt and a white blouse — the standard uniform for girls at this school.
I froze, feeling the rag slip from my hand and fall to the floor with a dull thud.
— Stephanie?! — I blurted out before I realized I said it out loud.
Her gaze locked on me. For a moment, her face remained calm, but then I noticed her eyes widen.
She recognized me, didn’t she? Damn it, where has she been?! Why is she showing up now?
But then her face, as if on cue, took on a calm expression. She blinked slowly, as if she was seeing some strange woman who mistakenly mistook her for someone else.
— Excuse me, ma’am, you... me? — she said with perfect politeness, tilting her head slightly. Her voice sounded so sincere that for a moment, I started to feel crazy.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was her. I had no doubt about it. I felt the ground slipping from under me. Didn’t she recognize me? Or was she just pretending? I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It was her. Or rather, her new version.
— Żartujesz? (Are you kidding?) — I said, feeling anger slowly rise within me. — To ja! Mike’a! Twoim chłopakiem! Ty mnie tu przyciągnąłeś, pamiętasz? (It's me! Mike! Your boyfriend! You dragged me here, remember?)
Her face remained completely blank, and only the slightest movement of her eyebrows revealed that my words had, in some way, affected her. She quietly repeated:
— Excuse me, I don’t understand. Do you speak English?
— Hey, it's alright, — suddenly Erik's voice came from behind me. He had walked up to Stephanie. — Our Sexy-Pani is just a little nervous today. What's your name?
Stephanie turned to Erik, slightly frowning, as if he had distracted her from some important thought. She pressed her backpack to her chest, as though it could create some kind of barrier between her and his persistence.
— Mari, — she answered briefly, holding back a polite smile, which seemed a bit mechanical. — And you?
Erik literally lit up upon hearing her answer. He grinned even wider, as if he had received some invisible bonus for her attention.
— Erik, — he said proudly, straightening his shoulders. — The local genius and leader. If you need anything, just ask. Or, if you want company at lunch.
Stephanie looked at him with an expression that was a mix of light mockery and subtle evaluation. She slightly tilted her head, as if contemplating his words.
— And you’re cute, — her voice held an obvious hint of interest, not irony, which made Erik momentarily lose his speech. His friends behind him chuckled, nudging each other and exchanging glances as if they couldn’t believe his luck.
— Well, thanks, — he replied, recovering and trying to look even more confident. — Maybe I’ll give you a tour? The school’s big, it’s easy to get lost.
Stephanie smiled, but the smile was still strangely distant. Her gaze skimmed the class, landing on me. In her eyes, I saw something that I couldn’t quite decipher: a mixture of recognition, distrust, and... wariness?