It's Definitely Weird

Twelve: Grace (Part One)

"What crawled up your underwear and died?"

Grace's POV:

I was in the body of Luke Evans. Of the billions of people in the world, I just had to be stuck in his body. This is just great.

Currently in the elevator of a huge hotel, Luke's mom explained, "You will rest for two months, while attending physical therapy. You will be instructed by Agatha, as she is licensed for such work. When the two months are over, you will proceed to attend school. Understood, Lucas?" Jeez, why did she speak so formally with her son? Who was Agatha?

I responded, "Yeah, okay."

"What have I told you about improper language, young man?" She looked at me with hatred in her eyes. "It is for the poor and uneducated; we are neither." What was her problem?

I looked down at the floor, "Right, I'm sorry."

"It's correct, mother. I am sorry," She yelled. As soon as she finished, the elevator door opened, saving me from her wrath. In front of me was a huge penthouse. We must've been at the very top of the hotel.

Forgetting me and Mr. Evans, who hadn't said a word at all, "mom" walked out of the elevator and into the living room.

"Wow, this is much bigger than our apartment," I thought. They had a marble piano in the middle of the room and a huge crystal chandelier above.

"Uh, what, Luke?" The man, Luke's father, looked at me, confused. Oh, I had said that aloud. Nice going, Grace. It was the first time he had spoken to me, and it was only because that crazy lady wasn't in the room.

"It is nothing, father. Just thinking aloud," I said, remembering to use "formal vocabulary."

The man chuckled, wrinkles of hard work appearing on his face, "Remember, no need to talk like that when your mom isn't here, buddy."

I smiled, "Right, I'm sorry. I forgot." I tried to explain. Why were Luke's parents such opposites? Why would Mr. Evans even try to marry Luke's mom if he was clearly scared of her? I was about to ask Luke's dad—er, my dad?— when I heard someone shout.

"Luke, my boy! I missed you!" The person shouted. A small, old woman appeared into the living room. The lady soon grabbed me and hugged me tight, while Mr. Evans laughed. She smiled, "I've baked some of your favorite pastries, my boy." 

I was not okay with strangers randomly hugging me, no matter if I was Grace or Luke, but who can resist desserts? I was about to thank her, whoever she might be, when someone shouted, while loud footsteps were now heard in the immense living room.

"Agatha, you know that I do not welcome physical affection in this household," Luke's mom shouted at the little old lady.

Agatha looked down at the floor, and mumbled an apology, while Mr. Evans looked down, too. They seemed to be used to Mrs. Evans' constant anger and rage. Is this what Luke had to go through every day at home? How could everyone just let Mrs. Evans treat them so badly?

"What did you say, Agatha? I have told you repeatedly that no mumbling is allowed," she kept shouting.

Jeez, what crawled up her underwear and died?

Mrs. Evans turned to me with fire in her eyes, "What did you just say to me, Lucas?"

Uh oh.