In Your Shoes

Chapter 13- Sam

Tess glowered at the fortune teller as she sat down, squeezing my hand and leaning against my chest. I sighed indignantly.

"Now," proceeded Madame Zylah, "the future is a delicate concept, and it is never set in stone, only heavily suggested."

"So, if we wanted, we could change the future?" I had jokingly accepted the activity, but I'd be blatantly lying if I said the topic didn't interest me. In all honesty, it was something I rarely thought about.

"Theoretically, yes. However, there is no way to be certain of the steps that will lead you down your desired path. I will be reading your auras and, ultimately, the spirits will guide me to the clearest, most likely future." A part of me fought back laughter. It was hard to comprehend any possible seriousness behind Madame Zylah's outrageous attributes, but, in a deep pit in my stomach, I could feel this wavering sense of . . . dread? I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was weirdly prominent.

Her electric eyes seemed to pierce through my soul as if she were truly all-knowing, and the edges of her bright red lips tugged into a subtle grin as she examined my demeanor. I uncomfortably adjusted my sitting position.

"Don't be nervous, dear," she said soothingly without once breaking eye contact. "I will gladly help you with your predicament."

My face tensed up. She couldn't have known what had occurred a day prior — I was certain that anybody we'd tell would immediately believe we had lost our marbles. Though, I had to admit, the lady in front of me — if not an act — had to have already lost some of her own. I glanced beside me to see Tess gazing up at me with a slightly quivering lip. "You . . . you will?" I inquired in a low tone. She had to have been referring to my extremely obvious and puffed up black eye, assuming some sort of problem had arisen out of it.

"Yes, if you would like me to." She examined me once more, again seeming to analyze my thoughts. "Mm," she shook her head slightly, her smile fading. "Your soul . . . is clouded in dark magic."

I rose my eyebrows. "My–"

"You have landed yourself deep into a dead chain of events, my dear," she continued with a hint of concern. I didn't want to believe that this was real, that whatever she was saying wasn't complete and utter insanity, but a sliver of anxiety in the back of my head disagreed. As much as I attempted to deny the circumstances surrounding my situation, and the endless possibilities of what else could be manipulated with magic, I had to force myself to embrace it. I, along with Matt, was never open-minded about the concept. Though my attitude always expressed a glass half full, it was difficult for me to comprehend what I had always believed to have been fiction. On the other hand, Matt was confident of his close-mindedness and never grasped what wasn't presented to him first-hand. Even when he was wrong, he would hold onto his primary beliefs and pretend that nothing bothered him.

In a way, I envied him for that. He was always right in his own way, but me? I would cower at the slightest form of intimidation or disagreement -- unless, of course, I was comfortable around the person. What was happening to Matt and I was real, whether we liked it or not, and we had to be each other for as long as we were inhabiting the other's body. That meant that I had to be the complete opposite of myself: confident, blunt, and laid-back. And if it came to the point where I returned to school as Matt, I would be restricted as ever, yet, at the same time . . . I would be free. Free to express my opinions, free to truly open myself up . . . free to finally be someone that wasn't me.

Of course, I didn't truly accept that I felt that way, and, despite how I felt, I still had to live someone else's life. I still had to maintain a relationship with someone who despised me, deal with body parts I had never dealt with before, and, worst of all, play football. The one sport I had absolutely zero knowledge of.