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*Click... Click-click
— …Fu... — the sound slipped out barely above a whisper as the girl, holding a cigarette she’d recently swiped from her mom’s purse, kept flicking the lighter. — Gotta come up with something...
In the dark, her face was lit only by the flashes of the lighter — pale, still with a child's flush, but the eyes... the eyes were all grown up. Matt — or rather, the former Matt — a thief, a heister, a loner, already knew how this shit worked: panic was the worst thing you could do. But now his hands… weren’t his. Small, with neat little fingernails practically begging for nail polish.
— Shit, this isn’t a dream, — he muttered out loud, but the voice came out high-pitched, with a slight, strangled tremor.
His head throbbed. The room around him was completely unfamiliar, yet disturbingly fitting for who he was now — with a Princess Elsa backpack tossed on the floor, a teddy bear slumped at the edge of the bed, and every other cliché of a girl’s bedroom. Kimberley’s room.
Small hands brought the cigarette to her lips, and a second later, a loud coughing fit echoed through the room. Loud enough that even the teddy bear, collapsed on the edge of the bed, seemed to glare at her — or was it him? At Matt. The thief. A thirty-two-year-old man who just yesterday had broken into a jewelry store in St. Louis. Everything had been going according to plan until he saw that stupid ring in the display case — thin, with an amber stone and strange symbols. He slipped it into his pocket… but something about it made him want to try it on. Just for the hell of it.
And then he was suddenly in this girl’s body...