You surprise yourself.

“I don’t know what to do.” She kisses you on the forehead, your mind is swimming with weird new memories. “I want my family to be happy, but being young again is really awesome. I want to be young again, not like creepy young, I don’t know, like 19, ya, 19 would be cool. Oh and I like being little, getting fucked, oh, I think I want to have a pretty little pussy, a perky ass, oh, could I be athletic too? Dancing is really fun. An image, a memory, slips into your mind, of dancing at concerts and clubs dressed in skimpy neon colors grinding with both girls and boys and everything in between, oh ya I’m like totally bi, oh, ya pansexual I think. Another flash, cheering at games in high school, running, so fast, long legs, flat chest, brown hair in a ponytail, showering with the other girls, oh my boobs are so small. Getting picked on as a kid. Fighting back. Then something odd. You are there, but not you, oh fuck, you are the kid you never had. Your mom is so happy to be a grandmother. A car crash. Oh. The you, the old you was lost in the crash. Several tattoos. A dark mood creeps in. Fighting. Trouble.

You shake your head. Look around. You aren’t at the same club. Strange. Have you always lived in Iowa? It doesn’t seem like it. The lights are dark. The music is loud. You are sitting on a couch, hands forward, a topless blonde is grinding on your lap. Your best friend Marcy is laughing and hollering, trying to get the stripper to take your clothes off. Bright pink leggings cover your legs, a dark hoodie, zipped open, a bikini on your chest, pink socks, white shoes. Time begins to flow normally now. The spinning wheel of memories washing in and out of your head. It’s your birthday. 19. And Marcy has you at a strip club to celebrate. You can’t believe your stupid fake id got you in, then again, you are both hot, you’ve been getting into clubs for over a year now, why would tonight be any different.

The stripper has your nipple in her mouth. Other unfamiliar eyes are watching. Marcy is hooting. Her fingers slide down into the hem of your pants. Her long fingernail flicks the ring in your clit. She stops sucking your nipple and looks you in the eye. “Slut.” She says with a smile.

“Whore.” You say back to her.

“I’m not a whore.” Her fingers slide into you. “Take it back.”

“Eat me.” You fire at her.

Still grinning. “Wanna see my dressing room?”