Frat party

You rummage through Sophia's phone, which was in her jeans pocket, finding her address and the location of her dorm. After a quick trip across campus, you find yourself standing in front of her closet, taking in the array of revealing outfits that make your pulse quicken.

You select a tight red dress that barely covers the essentials. The fabric clings to every curve as you admire yourself in the mirror, still not quite believing that the reflection is now you. You apply makeup with clumsy fingers, watching tutorials on her phone to figure out the basics.

"Close enough," you mutter, smudging eyeliner for the third time before giving up.

The walk to Greek Row feels electric. Every step in these heels sends vibrations through your new body, intensifying the constant arousal that seems to be Sophia's baseline state. The street is alive with students heading to various parties, music thumping from several houses.

You approach Delta Tau, the fraternity known for the wildest parties on campus. Two muscular guys flank the entrance, checking IDs and deciding who gets in.

"Hey there," the taller one says, eyes traveling over your body with obvious interest. "Haven't seen you around before."

You start to explain that you're Sophia, but catch yourself. "I'm... new," you manage, trying to mimic the confident swagger you've seen Sophia use.

"Cool, cool," he responds, clearly not caring about your backstory. "Cover's twenty bucks."

You hadn't thought to bring money. "I don't have any cash on me," you admit, voice faltering.

The guy exchanges a look with his friend. "That's okay, sweetie. For you, we can make an exception." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Just stick with me tonight."

Something about his tone makes you uneasy, but the persistent throbbing between your legs clouds your judgment. You nod, following him inside.

The party is sensory overload—pounding music, flashing lights, bodies pressed together. The guy—who introduces himself as Brett—keeps his arm around your waist, steering you through the crowd toward the kitchen.

"Let's get you a drink," he shouts over the music, already mixing something in a red cup. You watch him pour a clear liquid from an unmarked bottle.

You accept the cup hesitantly, taking a small sip. It burns going down. You step away from him with a casual excuse about needing to look around. His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't follow immediately, instead turning to chat with a fraternity brother while keeping you in his peripheral vision.

Leaning against a wall near the makeshift dance floor, you survey the party with new eyes—Sophia's eyes. The constant thrumming arousal in your body makes everyone look like a potential conquest, but you **** yourself to be selective, scanning methodically.

Across the room, a tall, broad-shouldered guy with basketball-player height is dancing with unusual grace for someone so large. There's something off about his movements though—slightly tentative, as if he's not entirely comfortable in his own skin. When he turns, you notice a pink wristband that marks him as a current swap participant. The party lights flash across his chiseled features as he moves awkwardly to the beat.

"That's Chad's body," a drunk girl confides, following your gaze. "Emma's in there tonight. Swap class experiment." She giggles. "Total mind fuck to watch Chad's body dancing like a sorority girl."

Your gaze drifts to a dark corner where a slim figure leans against the wall, nursing a beer. Short, choppy black hair frames a pale face adorned with multiple piercings. Heavy eyeliner accentuates eyes that haven't left your body since you entered the room. She wears ripped black jeans and a band t-shirt that hugs small breasts. When your eyes meet, she doesn't look away, instead raising her beer in a small salute.

"Charlotte," Brett says suddenly, appearing at your elbow and following your line of sight. "Waste of time. She's only into girls." He smirks. "Specifically, girls who look like you."

You also notice a nerdy guy trying to talk to some sorority girls. However, you quickly observe that it's actually your own body! Sophia must've come to the party in your body.

"That's just Jason," Brett dismisses when he notices your interest. "Computer science nerd. Probably doing some shit."

Your body—Sophia's body—responds to the possibilities with intensified arousal. You feel a dampness between your thighs just from looking at these potential hookups, this body's reaction seemingly automatic and beyond your control.

"So," Brett says, sliding his arm around your waist again, his hand dipping dangerously low on your hip. "Ready for that tour of the house I promised? The bedrooms are upstairs." His breath is hot against your ear, smelling of tequila and entitlement.

You realize you've attracted quite a bit of attention in the room. Several guys are watching you with undisguised interest, but it's the trio you identified—Emma in Chad's muscular body, the gothic Charlotte, and Sophia in your own body—who seem like the most interesting possibilities for what you have in mind.