Heading home

The testing did take quite a while. A couple of situations arose while I was going through all of it which actually ended up pushing it until almost 7 PM. When I was finally done, it was concluded that I had been right in my initial guess. This body seemed to come from a reality very close to our own. I had all of the right vaccines, I wasn't in danger of keeling over from some disease that I had never been prepared for (or passing one to anyone else), and I was a fully functional, normal woman.

When I was done, I was shown to my clothes. Or, rather, the clothes that this body came with. A black dress and a pair of flats. I wondered if this version of me also worked at the same company I did. At the very least, it seemed like she worked in some office.

I got dressed, begrudgingly, and noted that the dress showed off more of my new chest than I liked (which, to be fair, was any). It felt like I was practically wearing nothing, and each move felt like I could be exposing my underwear. I grabbed the purse and headed to the nurses station, completing my checkout process, then made my way down to the exit.

One good thing about the breaks in the testing was that it had afforded me the chance to make some calls. I managed to call my parents, and work to let them know what had happened. They had all heard about the attack, obviously, and my boss was nice enough to tell me a could take a month or so off to adjust. Unfortunately, I was a bit limited from there. I didn't have Scott's number memorized, or the landlord's. I had to hope that my contacts were saved somewhere so I could get them back once I talked to my phone company.

Even still, I was limited in some ways. I didn't have my debit card, and the one I did have was linked to an account that didn't exist in this world. I did find that the alternate me had a bus pass, and not finding any better options, I made my way to the stop.

I was waiting, alone thankfully, for about 15 minutes before my bus showed up. I took the first empty seat I found, and focused on the sights out the window. I was acutely aware of the looks I had gotten, mostly from guys, as I stepped onto the bus. I looked at the map of the route, seeing that I only had two stops until I got home, fortunately. The bus stopped at the one stop between me and my destination, and a few people climbed on.

One was a guy who looked to be a few years younger than me. Probably close to graduating college, based on his sweatshirt. He scanned the bus and grinned slightly as his eyes settled on me. He made his way over and took the seat next to mine. I turned away, looking to the window again and hoping to ignore him.

The bus pulled away from the stop and rejoined traffic. A few seconds after we were moving, the guy spoke. "Hey, I'm Todd." he said.

I looked toward him, hoping that my face would belay how tired I was, how little I wanted to deal with him or anyone. He didn't seem to take the hint. "Riley," I said, then turned back to the window.

"Nice name," Todd said, bobbing his head in a nod as he spoke. A brief pause, then he carried on. "You look familiar. Have I seen you around campus, or...?"

I looked his way again, seeing that he was pointing at the university name on his sweatshirt. I shook my head. "Been out of college for a few years, so no."

"Oh, really? I would have guessed you were a junior, or maybe a sophomore," he said. I sighed at that. I had looked a little older than I actually was this morning. Now I looked younger?

He kept chatting, trying to **** a conversation where I was determined to not let one exist. Finally, thankfully, my stop came and I stood and left. As I did, I heard Todd huff and call me a bitch.

I paused as I stepped off the bus, casting a quick glance back, then pressed on. I didn't really care what he said.

Even with the bus, I had to walk a couple of blocks to get home. I moved as quickly as I could, wanting this day to be done as soon as possible. It felt like forever, partly thanks to my now shorter legs and partly thanks to my exhaustion. When I reached my building, I hurried inside and up toward my apartment.

I didn't have my key, so when I made it I had to knock. I didn't hear anything at first. I felt a pit form in my stomach at the silence as I thought of what that meant. If Scott was out, then I would have to... I didn't really know, wait in the hall? I could try knocking on neighbor doors, trying to find a way to reach Marcus to get a hold of a spare key. I could feel panic welling up from the pit in my stomach at that thought. Both of those ideas, speaking to neighbors and trying to explain this whole shitshow to Marcus seemed like far more than I could handle in that moment.

Just as I was about to lapse into a full on panic, I heard the shuffling from inside the apartment, and the sound of the door unlocking. It cracked open, and I saw Scott peer out. His eye narrowed a bit as he looked at me. "Can I help you?"

"I... yeah, it's me," I said. His expression didn't shift, so I groaned. "I'm Riley."

His eye widened at that, then went back to it's previous state. "You fucking with me right now?"

"I have a fancy new ID from another reality that can prove it."

He stared at me for a moment, then pulled the door open. He gave me a once over, and the attention caused me to pull into myself a bit. After an agonizing amount of time, he nodded. "I guess you do look like him... like you," he said, stepping out of the way. I sighed in relief and stepped inside.

Once I was in, I walked over to the kitchen counter and dropped the purse on it, then kicked off my shoes. I looked at Scott, who was wearing a pair of sweatpants which were oddly bunched up and no shirt. I knew he tended to sleep in, at most, his boxers, which explained the delay in him opening the door.

He was the opposite of me in a lot of ways, even before this mess with the bomb. Where I tended to try and keep myself fairly put together looking, he tended to look more... unkempt. His dark blond hair was shaggy, hanging around his ears. He had a fair amount of scruff that I knew was more from apathy toward shaving than him trying to cultivate any sort of look. His pale blue eyes were locked onto me, still analyzing.

He was an independent contractor, doing art for people and companies seemingly at random, which gave him odd hours, but a bit of freedom. It had been a bit worrying when we first became roommates, but he was always on time with rent, so it hadn't been a problem. He also used the freedom his gig afforded him to hit the gym regularly, which one could see in the copious amount of muscle that he had. He was one of the only people I had ever met who actually had a six pack.

He cleared his throat, and I shook my head. My face heated up as I turned away from him. Had I been staring?

"So, you from one of the cool realities where they have powers? I hope you at least got something out of this whole deal."

"Nope, just... normal," I said. "No cool powers or anything."

"Well, shit," Scott said, "That fucking blows."

I let out a quick laugh, shaking my head. "Tell me about it. At least laser vision would have been something for having to deal with this."

Scott ran his hand through his hair, then turned and locked the door. "You look like shit..." he said. "Not, like, physically..." He paused, shaking his head. "Whatever, you get it. You look like you're about to pass out. Go to bed. I've got some work to do, but I'll be quiet. I'll try to turn in at a slightly reasonable hour and try to help you out with shit tomorrow."

"Alright. Thanks," I said.

"No problem."

I turned and went to my room, closing the door behind me. I took a moment to compose myself, trying to put the awkward moment where I had spaced out and stared at Scott behind me. Once I was in a relatively good place, I took off the damn dress and the bra and looked through my clothes. I didn't have much that could fit, but an old pair of basketball shorts that could be tied off to stay up and a shirt that looked more like a dress on me than anything would have to serve.

With that, I climbed into bed and fell asleep within seconds, the day finally catching up with me.