Getting picked up by his... Cousin?

I've known Tiffany Brian for about two years now, ever since I moved to this town. Sure, we've met before during family reunions and family weddings and stuff, but we've never actually gotten to know each other until AFTER I moved here to attend college.

She was a nice girl, and very quirky when she opens up to you. A short haired brunette girl that tends to act more like a cartoon character more than a normal person. We've gotten along very well since I've moved here, to the point where I could safely consider her to be my sister and it wouldn't be weird.

She was very much of an outrovert, being outspoken and cheerful enough to get along with pretty much anybody. She was also a full on tomboy too, almost to an obsessive degree just to prove it. She tends to favor defying normal female conventions, like refusing to wear girly clothings and skirts, doing any kind of makeup, etc. It was the only part about her that I never fully understood, mostly because she never really talked about it.

Still, there was something very charming about her and her whole personality. I was never going to admit this out loud, especially not to her, but I often wished she wasn't my cousin just so that I could ask her out. She was pretty much prime girlfriend material, at least to me.

Ah well. Some things were never meant to be.

Just as I was going to leave the building, I saw a lady on the other side about to come in. My natural chivalrous instincts kicked in and I was about to hold open the door for her as a friendly gesture.

She seemed to have gotten the idea first, however, beating me to the punch and cheerfully opening the door and stepping to the side to let me pass first. "Go ahead! Gentlemen first!" She cheerfully exclaimed.

I blinked, feeling just a little bit stunned by what she said. I wasn't surprised at the fact that she opened the door for me, that's just normal common courtesy and manners. I just wasn't expecting gentlemen first to be a thing.

"Are you not leaving?" She asked curiously, seeing me standing still like an idiot while staring at her.

I snapped out of it, "Sorry, I am!" I hurriedly walked past her while giving a quick, "Thank you!"

"Don't be so surprised that chivalry hasn't died yet. Not all of us are inconsiderate." She unexpectedly winked at me, before heading inside.

Huh... I definitely don't know what to make of that. Seemed like a nice lady though. Must be trying to make a statement or something about gender norms.

Not one to judge, I silently cheered for her, More power to ya, lady!

"John?"

Hearing a familiar voice behind me, I smiled as I turned around.

"Hey there Ti-" I paused.

Wait, was that Tiffany?

There was this girl... She... Well, I mean, she definitely looked a little bit like Tiffany. I've seen her face long enough to spot her from a mile away, but...

There was something off about how she looked.

"Goddess, look at that bandage wrap on your head." The girl sighed, stepping up to touch my head in concern. "When you called me to pick you up at the hospital, I was really worried, you know. What did you even do to warrant a heavy concussion anyway? It's not like you to be so careless."

I still haven't reeled in from the fact that this girl, who possibly might or might not be Tiffany, was talking to me.

God, it had to be her, right? Otherwise, how would she know who I was and come pick me up?

"Is that you, Tiffany?" I asked tactlessly, peering into her face to make absolute sure I wasn't crazy.

"Do you not recognize me? Of course it's me." She said obviously. Then she had a worried look, "Wait, you don't still have a concussion do you? Or did your memories get messed up when you injured your head?"

But she just... looked so different. I don't even know where to begin.

For one, she had a mid length skirt on to match with her spring coat. I've never seen her wear anything but jeans or khakis though...

Plus, she just looked... Less cheerful? Less spunky?

Like she was noticeably less lifelike compared to how I usually see her. Honestly, if you didn't know what I was talking about, you might actually not be able to tell the difference whatsoever. But I've known her well enough to know what she usually wears and how she usually acts.

This is... Not my cousin, I don't think?

God, I don't even know if it was her messing with me, or if I'm actually still fucked up in the brain from the Walmart thing.

Deciding to play it cool and wait to see if this weird unfamiliar sensation would go away by itself, I tried to act naturally, "Sorry, I guess I'm not used to you dressing differently is all."

"I'm dressed differently?" She asked, confused. Taking a moment to observe herself, she said, "This is the same clothing I usually wear when I'm in class though. I wore this last week too."

Yeah, well, fuck if I know what's real and what's not anymore.

Jesus, even her whole demeanor was a lot different than how I remembered. She just seemed so... tamed? Professional? Depressed?

Like her cheerful jovial tomboy personality got shifted into this weird opposite machine, before being spat out to become what she was now.

It was seriously unnerving.

"Are you sure you're okay, John? Maybe we should head back in to get the doctors to examine your head again?" She offered, holding a hand out for me to take.

I gently pushed it away, and reassured her, "I'm fine, Tiff. The doctors checked me over and over, and they didn't see any major damage. This head bandage is just to take care of a bruise on my forehead, that's all."

She seemed doubtful, looking me up and down as if I was a whole different person than I should have been. But she relented and gave me a calm smile, "Okay then. As long as you're not hurt."

Seriously, this felt so weird.

Usually, an interaction between the two of us would go something like this-

"Damn it, John! Can't you take better care of yourself?! You had me worried sick when you called!" Tiffany punched me in the arm with an annoyed expression.

I laughed, "Sorry, sorry, it won't happen again."

"It better not. Now come on! We're taking you home and you're buying me pizza when we get there."

"Sure sure sure."

But that clearly wasn't happening right now. It sort of freaked me out.

"Come on, let's get you back to your apartment. I'll even order you some takeout, if you're in the mood." She told me, grabbing my wrist and gently pulling me to follow her back to her car.

For real. This is some crazy stuff.

Come on brain damage, hurry up and go away so that life goes back to normal already!

"Here we are." Tiffany lead me back to the familiar sight of my small apartment door.

Well, at least the door didn't give me weird unfamiliar vibes at least. Hopefully, that meant things were slowly going back to normal. God, the ride here was so awkward and silent. It felt like I was driving shotgun with a complete stranger instead of my own cousin!

"Here, I'll open it for you." Tiffany said, taking out the spare key I have her a while back to unlock my apartment door.

If I had been hopeful for things to return to normal soon, I was in for a severe disappointment the moment she opened the door for me.

Going inside my apartment, the weird feeling that everything was different came back in full Megaforce.

Now, I will admit without any shame whatsoever that I was a sort of messy person. I leave leftovers on the eating table all the time, I don't empty my trash cans until they're overwhelming full, and I leave dirty laundry on the floor of my room. You know, typical careless guy stuff.

So when I walked in and saw my entire apartment completely organized and spotless of any degree of trash, I almost panicked and thought that OCD burglar ninjas had just broke into my place to steal my stuff and clean all my mess.

It was so clean and orderly, I thought we might have gotten the wrong apartment by sheer accident.

"Still tidy as usual." Tiffany chuckled, as if she was in on some joke that I clearly wasn't a part of. "Sometimes, I wish I was half of attentive as you when it comes to taking care of my own house. Mom can be such a slob sometimes, so you're basically my only good influence when it comes to self-care."

She's joking, right? Everytime I came over to their place, their house was usually fifty times more clean than my own. Aunt Felicia was huuuuuuge clean freak, and could get easily antsy over even the smallest out of place detail.

"Hey, since we're not buying take out, you mind if I make us something from your fridge?" She asked, going into my kitchen without even waiting for me to reply.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I gave her permission anyway, too caught up with this whole top turvy world to properly care about that at this point.

I walked over to the sofa couch and spontaneously decided to push it out of the way to see the carpet underneath.

Clean. No stains.

That's impossible.

There used to be a coffee stain here from when I just started renting this place. I got careless and spilled it right at this exact spot. It was an eyesore in an otherwise perfect looking apartment, but I was too lazy to properly clean it up.

Instead, I just moved the couch over to cover it up and pretended it didn't exist.

Now it was gone.

I'm beginning to feel like this wasn't because of my concussion anymore... Something is definitely wrong here, and this time, it wasn't my own fault.

Maybe I should look this up online to see what my problem is. There had to be a logical explanation for all this, right?

"I'm gonna fry up some fish sticks from the freezer! You should remember to buy some groceries later though, your fridge is nearly empty!" Tiffany called out from my kitchen to remind me.

Well, that at least explained why I was in Walmart in the first place.

Okay, Internet time.

I instinctively reached into my pocket to pull out my phone, only to remember it wasn't there.

Shit.

God, please don't tell me I lost my phone in Walmart yesterday.

I went in to my bedroom to see if my phone was in there. The moment I went in though, I had the same case of heebie jeebies I've been getting lately about how different everything was.

My room was devoid of any dirty laundry, my bed was neatly and tightly tucked in and made, and everything was organized as if a top-tier maid went through this place.

Agh, goosebumps. I was getting so creeped out, I actually got goosebumps.

But I did manage to find my phone, thankfully.

It was charging next to the outlet on my desk. I almost forgot, I decided to leave my phone home last night to charge because I figured I would just be in and out of Walmart for a quick groceries run. I wasn't expecting this whole thing with me passing out and puking my guts out to happen.

I quickly went over to disconnect it and picked it up-

God dammit, even the phone is different than how I usually remembered it. There should be a small crack on the screen from that time I stupidly dropped it down the staircase in my Aunt's house. Now it wasn't even there. Gone, kaput, nada. Like it never even existed.

Whatever.

Time to do some research to see what was wrong with me. Or better yet, what was wrong with life itself.