You don’t

You want to kiss her, but your new body seems to recoil from her. You pause, look her in the eyes, her smile fades and she steps back to allow you out the door. The two of you make your way to the subway. The ride isn’t long. She is quiet till the train arrives at your stop. She looks at you and says, “Are you getting serious with Crystal?”

A flash of memory of Crystal when she says the name. Long platinum blonde dreads with gem like beads woven in. Skin pale like snow, just the hint of pink showing through. Perfect body, skilled dancer, good kisser, you can remember the feeling of her tongue inside of you. “I don’t know. I think she’s nice.”

“Just be careful, okay. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” Her eyes read of genuine concern.

You squeeze her hand. Several memories flash, her rushing you to a hospital, her finding you in an abandoned building, her yanking you out of a car and screaming at some guy. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

The club is only a short walk from the station. The man at the door is kinda fat but obviously very strong. He greets you both with a wide smile. You learn her name is Victoria. Another Vikki, strange, perhaps it means something. You also learn your name is Alex, and just that, it isn’t short for anything, and not a nickname either. As you hear it you remember your dad admitting one day he gave you the name because he was certain you were a boy when you were born. Your mom just said it was a cute story but you don’t know the truth of it all.

You take your place behind the bar and Victoria heads further into the club. To your surprise the men at the club treat you with more respect than you would have guessed and by the end of the night you have $200 in tips, a phone number you never plan to call, and a bit to many drinks. 2am comes faster than you expected. You don’t know exactly what you were expecting, but this wasn’t it, not exactly. This was just a night at work. A good job it might seem, but hardly a life anyone would dream of, make wishes and use magic to get. It would seem that while you live with and probably occasionally sleep with Victoria, the two of you aren’t dating. Your best guess is the former you was in fact extremely depressed, bipolar or something similar. Several times throughout the shift you get compliments on your positive mood.

The night over, you watch as Victoria hops in a car with a guy you know is named Jimmy, though you can’t say when you heard the name. Crystal walks out of the club a few moments later, now dressed in leather, another odd similarity, she calls over, “You’re not taking the subway home, are you?”

“I guess.”

“There’s room on the back of my bike if you want a ride.”