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Maysilee has never believed in soulmates. That stuff is for little kids who haven't had all their hopes and dreams crushed in front of them yet. For people who deserve love. Not like her.
Soulmates seem too far-fetched of a concept to exist but it does. It's ridiculous, really, Maysilee thinks. Her twin sister Merrilee recounts a story about a bonding— the strange happening that brings two people together as soulmates— she had overheard two customers at the Sweet shop talk about today. It can happen many different ways. The most common is feeling a strange pull in one's chest, as if a string of fate links two people. The soulmates' first words spoken to one another tattooed somewhere on their bodies is one described often. A rare one Maysilee has heard about is being able to write on one's own body, and the ink appearing on the determined soulmate's. In any case, Maysilee is absolutely certain that kind of nonsense is never happening to her.
Maysilee is too rough around the edges. Sometimes she is mean, although she prefers the term brutally honest, and doesn't let herself dream about much anymore. Not since her fate was sealed the day she was born. Taking over the Sweet shop, that's her predetermined destiny. Not some random person from the other side of the District. Not a soulmate met through irrational shenanigans. No unconditional love. Nobody will ever want her anyway. The whole town loathes her. Maysilee sighs as she looks at Merrilee, her twin's eyes sparking with glee as she recalls the customer saying that meeting their soulmate was the most beautiful event in their life so far.
Yeah. Not happening for me.
Maysilee and Merrilee spend their twentieth birthday wrapping candies and lollipops in polka-dotted paper until their hands are sore. Life at the Sweet shop is tougher than everyone in the District seems to think. Sure they're not digging in deep dark mines or ruining their hands washing laundry, but working the taffy machine still isn't easy work. Doomed to work here until we're as old as Grandma was, always says Maysilee. How she misses her grandmother… She grumbles under her breath at the seventh candy she drops down because of her hand cramping up. Merrilee picks it up wordlessly, always more agreeable than her twin. Today Merrilee is in her usual pinks and reds color palette. It suits her rosy cheeks. Despite looking identical, Maysilee's cheeks never achieve such a color without blush. She is hit with a twinge of jealousy before reeling it back. No point in thinking that. Merrilee doesn't deserve her wrath. However, someone else in the Donner family does…
The twins' mother had finally stopped trying to dress them identically around their eighteenth birthday, two years ago. If it had gone on for any longer, Maysilee would have probably had the meltdown of the century. Spending her whole life forced into frilly colorful dresses matching with her sister to the point that people couldn't differentiate them was always a sour subject .
So this year to celebrate her birthday, which she unhappily spent working, Maysilee adorns a favorite of hers. A lilac dress that stops above the knee in delicate scallops, with sleeves that puff up slightly around her mid-arm. Maysilee's necklace collection clinks whenever she bends down to pick up whatever candy she's accidentally dropped down. She puts the peach flavored chewy candy back in the bucket. A smirk threatens to appear on her lips at the thought of someone she has had a spat with or simply dislikes getting that one in their candy bag. Not very nice of her to think that but again, that's what she's known for.
Wyatt exhales heavily as he kicks off his work boots. It had been a rough day in the mines. An issue with explosives had kept the miners on site for way longer than usual, and not mention feeling on edge from the explosion risk. For one, his body is about to give out underneath him from sheer exhaustion. His knees had buckled many a time on the walk home. Two, he feels absolutely disgusting. Coal dust clings to every inch of his body from the sweat. It gets hot underground and swinging a pickaxe repeatedly leads to sweating profusely. No matter how hard he scrubs his nails, they remain stained black. He sits in the lukewarm tub of water his mother filled for him after she saw how dirty he'd come back. Wyatt's father, Mr. Callow, and his older brother Kenneth had gone straight to the Hob for drinks after work, needing to unwind more than getting cleaned up. Wyatt is just glad today didn't have any betting to set the odds for going on. His main day job may be busting his ass digging at coal ore in the old cramped up mines of District Twelve, but the more important one is actually his odds making job. Wyatt is able to figure out the odds of pretty much anything. He'd been very observant and skilled at math since childhood, and once these talents had proven useful for monetary gain, his father had quickly taken advantage of it. Since the age of thirteen, Wyatt would join his father and brother to the Hob, or rather the dingy garage behind the old warehouse, where they would give out odds of events, anything from mayor elections to card, dice games, even underground boxing matches, and collect the Booker Boys fees to earn extra cash for the family. Thanks to that, the Callows are better off than most in the Seam, where they reside in the District. However, they had also earned themselves a not so great reputation from Wyatt’s father having no scruples collecting fees from close to black-out drunkards, often resulting in fights and long-lasting grudges. What always bothers Wyatt is being associated with these wrongdoings by just being his father's son. Wyatt’s a quiet boy who keeps to himself, his head full of numbers and faded dreams. He's always done his best to stay out of any trouble but it somehow always finds him instead.
After ravenously eating a bowl of stew left by his mother, Wyatt collapses in bed, totally beat from the workday. It's not long before his loud snores fill up his small bedroom, the only other sound the ticking of the analog alarm clock on his bedside.
Light pours in Wyatt’s bedroom. His dark navy curtains usually do a good job at keeping the room dim even when it's bright out. Strange. He realizes he woke up before his alarm, which is unusual for him. The long workdays meant extreme exhaustion to the point of sleeping like a dead man until the loud ringing brought him back to life. Eyelids fluttering, Wyatt turns his head on the soft pillow. It's too damn bright in here. Had he somehow left his curtains open? Wyatt inhales deeply, starting to feel more awake as the seconds pass. That's when the unfamiliarity of his surroundings hit him like a brick. The room is way too bright, his alarm clock hasn't rung, it smells different, floral. The pillow under his head is way more plush than his own. He isn't in his own room.
How could that be? He knows he went home yesterday after work, bathed and ate before practically passing out on his bed. A sense of dread fills him, suddenly feeling scared to open his eyes. But he has to get to the bottom of this. Maybe he's having a very weird lucid dream? Pa had those sometimes if he has drunk too much white liquor.
Opening his eyes, he takes in the room that is indeed not his. The faded yellow wallpaper has pink butterflies on it. The window is covered by sheer white curtains embroidered with flowers that let a lot of light through, explaining the brightness. A fuzzy purple circular rug lays between the two twin beds that are pushed against opposite walls of the room. Wyatt lays in one of them, his confusion growing bigger the longer he observes the room. In the other bed, a figure is seemingly sleeping, cocooned in a patchwork blanket. He can't make out who they are from here, so finally, Wyatt looks down at himself. The covers bunch up at his waist as he sits up in the bed against the headboard. His eyes fall on pale freckled arms and hands. He wears purple pajamas, the sleeves falling mid-arm. The body looks feminine, and it's definitely not his own.
What is happening?
Maysilee is woken up by the loudest alarm clock ringing she's ever heard. Has Merrilee lost her mind? Why would she set it to be so blaring? Does she want her twin to go deaf at the ripe-age of twenty years-old? Her arm reaches out blindly, trying to stop the awful sound. She manages to hit the clock, and it falls to the ground with a loud thud. Great start to the morning. Barely awake and already pissed off. It's Saturday too, which means she has to work the most annoying shift at the Sweet shop, the afternoon one. Maysilee sighs as she tries to hype herself up to start and getting ready for the day. Maybe she could wear her newest dress to cheer herself up. It's a pretty pale blue with a darker blue trim around the bottom, collar and sleeves edges. Maysilee hand sewed that detailing herself.
The bedroom is much darker than it should be, which utterly confuses her when her eyes blink open, eyelashes stuck together. Eyes barely creaked, she uses muscle memory to go try to pull back the curtains but immediately stumbles on her feet. She is… much taller than normal? What the hell? Maysilee forces her eyes open wide and looks down at herself. She must be dreaming, because why is she in a boy's body? It's definitely not her own. Taller and bulkier. She tentatively pats at her, no— the body's chest and arms, to see if she can feel it. She even pinches at the skin and when a voice lower than her own responds in pain from her throat, she thinks she has lost it. What is going on? Her mind feels blank, having no rational explanation for whatever is happening. It's so…
No way. No way this is happening to her, and right now. The bonding? The very thing she'd sworn could never be a reality for her. The stupid soulmate bond that was probably just a myth. Except it was real. She'd literally heard about it actually happening to other people yesterday. And now her? What a stupid coincidence. Still, Maysilee had never heard of switching bodies with one's supposed soulmate. Panic fills her stomach, heart racing at the thought of that stranger boy also waking up in her body. Oh no. What if the guy is a creep or something? What if he knows her and already hates her, from childhood teasing? Is he even her age? She doesn't want to date an old dude. Maysilee slowly brings a hand to her (the boy's) face. The skin is overall pretty smooth, with the exception of a couple bumps of acne and some stray stubble at the jawline, but nothing like wrinkles or scars. She concludes he must be young, in the same age range as her. Just as she thinks she should head to a bathroom to see his face up close, the door of the unfamiliar bedroom slams open. Maysilee freezes in place.
"Wy! You awake? Guess what? They're closing the mines today for further inspection! Extra day off for us, woo!" a young man cheers, staying near the doorframe, not looking at Maysilee (or the boy's body she currently inhabits) for too long.
"Uh, great, I'll, uh, go back to bed a bit then," she says, the masculine voice coming out of her mouth startling her. The young man, a brother? replies something she doesn't hear and closes the door. Maysilee lets out a big sigh before flopping back onto the bed. it's a bit lumpy and the pillow is much flatter than her own at home. The words of the other young man come back to her mind. The mines. Both apparently work there, and luckily for her, they're closed today for inspection. Her brain starts to try and narrow down who she—the boy whose body she's in, could be. It'd be easier if she went and looked at his face, but the thought of doing that suddenly feels daunting. He is supposedly her soulmate.
It had taken all but two minutes for Merrilee to understand that Maysilee wasn't Maysilee. Or rather, someone else is in her twin's body. Unlike Maysilee, Merrilee is a big believer of the soulmate bond myth. Well is it really a myth when it keeps happening to people she knows? And now her own twin sister. It was really easy to guess. Maysilee is standing awkwardly in their own bedroom in a pink dress that is actually Merrilee's. Real Maysilee would never do that. The pink clashes with her blue socks and her hair is unbrushed, meaning she, or he? whoever is in Maysilee's body, hasn't gone to the bathroom to check their face. But now that Merrilee is awake and staring her sister's body down, who bears an uncomfortable look on their face, there's no way the person inside doesn't know who they're inhabiting.
Wyatt is in Maysilee Donner's body and he feels like he can't breathe. The necklaces tangling around his neck are a strong confirmation. When Merrilee wakes up and glares at him immediately, he knows he's already been found out.
"I, uh, can't explain this, it's…" words stumble out of his mouth but he has no idea what to say. This situation is so out of his hands, which is something he usually tries to avoid at all costs. Wyatt likes to know all variables to a situation. But there's nothing he can predict about this mess.
The blonde girl's eyes narrow a bit before a small smile appears on her face.
"I know you're not Maysilee. First of all, that's my dress you're wearing, and two, Maysilee would never look this confused in her own room. She'd be complaining about the afternoon shift already," she climbs out of bed, straightening out her pink pajamas. "I'm Merrilee, by the way. And you're in Maysilee's body, if you hadn't caught on already," she says as she approaches Wyatt.
He nods. "I had caught on, but thanks for explaining." Wyatt had never felt so incredibly awkward in his life. He's in a girls bedroom and wearing a dress for fate's sake.
Since he stays silent just standing there, unsure of what to do, Merrilee speaks up. "So, are you going to tell me who you are, or do you expect me to share my room with a stranger in my sister's body?"
Panic flashes across Wyatt's, or rather Maysilee's face. Should he tell her who he is? Would she be disgusted by the fact that a Seam boy, and furthermore a Callow, is in her room and her sister's body? Merrilee does have a point. Not telling who he is would be more awkward. He is a stranger to her afterall.
"I'm…uh…this is so strange, y'know, I wake up and it's not my room. Then I see I'm in a girl's body and now you found me out already. Will you keep it secret? Please?" Wyatt pleads and he doesn't really know why. It's just too weird of a situation to admit to anyone. He could have never predicted something like that to happen to him. Something so supernatural like, that only happened in stories told by kids or old ladies.
"Of course I'm keeping this secret. It's not even about me anyway. It's about Maysilee and you, whoever you are. Boy or girl, by the way?" Merrilee asks as she turn around to dig in the closet.
"I'm a guy, from the Seam. Hope it's a not a problem…" Wyatt starts, a bit unsure with how much information about himself he should give out.
Merrilee just hums an encouragement as if to tell him to keep going, so he does.
"I'm twenty-one, turning twenty-two in November. I work in the mines and also uh…" should he tell about his oddsmaking? That'd be a dead giveaway about who he is. No one else does what he does.
"No name?"
Wyatt stays quiet. the Callow name is also openly scorned in the District, or at least in the Seam. He doesn't know how far the dislike of his father extends to. Does it reach the town side?
"Oh well, I'll know soon enough. You seem like an alright guy. I'm sure you'll want to meet up with her, Maysilee, I mean." Merrilee holds up a pair of white lacy socks. "Here, wear those, the blue socks you have on clash with the dress. Also you should go brush your hair. My sister wouldn't be caught dead with her hair unbrushed," she stares at him as he switches out the socks, and then leads him to the bathroom.
Wyatt stands in front of the mirror as Merrilee brushes his— Maysilee's hair for him, braiding a purple ribbon into the strands. He examines his face closely. Maysilee Donner has sharp features. Blue eyes that often throw daggers at people from behind the Sweet shop counter. Those eyes are bordered by long lashes. High cheekbones, porcelain skin littered with freckles. Blonde bangs that hide arched eyebrows. Pouty pink lips often seen in a scowl. She's pretty, he realizes. That makes his heart skip a beat. He must make a peculiar face, because Merrilee pauses her hairstyling.
"You okay?" she asks.
Wyatt nods back. They had concluded that the best thing to do today was for Wyatt (in Maysilee's body) to go find the real Maysilee, whom they highly suspected to be in his own body. Merrilee would cover the Sweet shop shift. They haven't discussed about the implications of the body swap just yet. Wyatt know Merrilee wants to. He can practically feel her buzzing with questions next to him. The implications are of course, that this whole ordeal is a bonding. What happens when two soulmates are being pushes together by unknown forces. Fate, some people say. His grandma had taught him about it when he was little. Wyatt hadn't believed in it at first, like most people. But seeing it happen a couple of times during his school years had kept the existence of soulmates at the very least in the back of his mind. It wasn't very common. His parents weren't soulmates, as far as he knows. His brother Kenneth and his girlfriend Norah aren't either. But he clearly remembers a boy and a girl back in school showing off matching soulmates marks on their arms. And sometimes, at the Hob, the old drunk Perdue who loses at dice all the time would talk about how his wife and him had felt that magnetic pull toward each other. They've apparently not left the other's side since. Soulmates.
Him and Maysilee switching bodies might mean they are one another's soulmate. Wyatt has trouble wrapping his head around it. He pulls up his mental notes about her. It's not creepy. He keeps tabs on pretty much the whole District. Or at least people he's interacted with before.
Maysilee Donner. One of two heirs to the District's only sweet shop. Two years under him at school. Infamous around the whole town for her haughty attitude and frilly dresses. Although he had noticed she'd been wearing simpler things recently. Her jewelry, more particularly her necklace collection is also well known, as owning this many pieces is quite uncommon. People whispered about her grumpy attitude and how she'd made vile comments about their clothes, make up or hairstyles. She'd made many a enemy back in school because of that. Wyatt remembers her getting into petty arguments with classmates in the hallways, as he walked past with his head down. Merrilee and their other blonde friend, the Apothecary's daughter, always by Maysilee's side.
On the very rare times he'd talked to her, she'd been indifferent, bordering on cold. But again, he can't judge her solely on how she act at work behind the Sweet shop counter she seems to despise. An itch grows inside of Wyatt. He wants to get to know this girl he currently inhabits the body of. She's…intriguing to him. Someone with a not so clean past but he doesn't care about that. How she would act toward him matters way more. His heart beats fast as Merrilee opens the back door for him. He's about to make his way to his own house in the Seam in the hope to try and find Maysilee. Meeting in person might untangle their body switching mess.
Maysilee has hunkered down in the bedroom for so long that the boy's —Wyatt, she'd learned his name was— mother had come to check on her. She had feigned vague sickness in order to be left alone. So now there she is, in the small house's bathroom, hands gripping at the sink, eyes boring into the unfamiliar ones looking back at her in the mirror. The boy, Wyatt, she reminds herself, isn't fully a stranger to her. She remembers him being a couple of grades ahead in school and always quiet, by himself. One day, he'd left to go work at the mines, like most Seam boys do. On occasion, he had come to the Sweet shop while it she was working the register and had small exchanges regarding the candy he bought or the weather. Just normal boring stuff. Maysilee's just glad he seems to be normal and isn't someone she has a troubled past with. Imagining her soulmate being a classmate she had teased to no end back in school, like Haymitch Abernathy, makes her gag. No thank you. This Wyatt guy has a mysterious aura to him, she thinks as she looks at him— herself, in the mirror. The dark eyes are trimmed by short eyelashes, and his dark brown, almost black hair is all mussed up from sleep. She grabs a comb and tried to smooth it out but it looks weird so she gives up and just rakes the hair to a somewhat presentable state with her fingers. The back is overgrown, making her neck feel sweaty. The longer she observes the boy's face the cuter and more handsome she finds him. There is a mole on the bridge of his nose. Urgh. She groans at herself. This soulmate business is clouding her judgment. She really has to figure out more about him before even thinking he's cute. The easiest way to make sense out of this whole mess would be to go out and find him, as he is presumably in her own body. Maysilee goes back to his bedroom on a quest to find a decent outfit to wear out. In a different body or not, she won't be caught in ugly clothes, that's for sure.
Wyatt wanders around the town, feeling unsure about going straight for his own house where Maysilee has a high chance of being in. He keeps having to remind himself that he's in her body right now, and Maysilee Donner going to a house in the Seam, especially the Callows' house, this early in the morning would be seen as strange and suspicious. The Saturday morning market is in full swing at the town square. A variety of stalls are selling goods, and Wyatt finds himself feigning to browse as a way to kill time. He's growing nervous at the thought of spontaneously meeting up with the girl who's currently trapped in his own body, and him in hers. The situation is so strange. Every time he sees his reflection or looks down and sees the pale legs stretching out underneath the pink dress hem, his stomach twists and he feels sweat down his back. He really hopes she doesn't hate him immediately and thinks he's strange. They haven't interacted enough before this mess to have proper strong opinions on one another, or at least that's what Wyatt is hoping Maysilee thinks about him.
One thing nags at him. What if she knows of the Callows bad reputation and wants nothing to do with him? Additionally, dating between Seam and Town folks is looked down upon. It's not prohibited by any laws, and it has definitely happened before. However, the townsfolk tend to be judgemental and biased against the lower class of the District, rendering romantic relationships between two from town and Seam a complex thing. Merrilee hadn't seemed bothered by Wyatt being from the Seam though, so he hopes that her twin has similar views…
At a stall selling metal ornaments, tools and even jewelry pieces, Wyatt comes to a stop. He can feel the weight of all the necklaces on his skin. After the few hours he has spent in this body, he has grown accustomed to it. His eyes dart around the stall's merchandise. A pretty metal chain with a butterfly pendant catches his attention. If he had any cash on him, getting it for Maysilee would be a great meet-up gift and maybe she would give him a chance. She does seem to have a soft spot for jewelry, as Wyatt got a glimpse of her collection displayed on her vanity in the bedroom shared with Merrilee. With no means to buy the necklace, Wyatt leaves and is back to square one. He can't find a good excuse as to why Maysilee would be seen going to the Seam. When he would knock on his house's door, his mom would be utterly confused as to why a pretty town girl suddenly wants to talk to her youngest son. Wyatt’s mom is perceptive, just like he is. That's where he gets it from, so if Maysilee shows up at the door, there's a high chance Mrs. Callow will pick up on his weird and awkward behavior and figure out something is afoot. Maybe even suspect a soulmate bond is happening in front of her. Going without a plan is too risky, so Wyatt retreats to the Sweet shop where Merrilee is currently standing behind the counter, looking bored with nobody to ring up.
This poor boy's wardrobe is in dire need of help, thinks Maysilee as she peruses through his meager closet. She understands Seam folks don't really have the funds to enjoy a thorough wardrobe, but something has to be done. If she ends up dating this guy, he definitely needs an upgrade. She ends up selecting a simple pale gray t-shirt, and she pulls a thin brown linen button up on top that she leaves open. For pants there's not too many option. It's either coal covered miner's coveralls (ew, no), a pair of plain denim jeans or a pair of brown flared pants that feel too fancy for a daily outfit. Jeans it is. Maysilee has never worn such an outfit and while all the clothes feel unfamiliar to her, they at least suit the body she's in now, Wyatt’s body. She tries to not look and pry too much when she pulls down the pajamas pants to put the jeans on. Now to go out and find him. If they could figure out why this is all happening, maybe they'd go back to their own bodies. Maysilee doesn't have a plan. She's an act first, think later kind of gal, which has caused her all sorts of troubles back when she was in school. Opening her big mouth and letting out all her fashion opinions certainly hadn't been to the taste of her classmates. Especially when they were the targets. Probably why she has only two friends, one of them being her twin, looking back.
A knock on the bedroom door startles Maysilee. Is it Wyatt’s mother again? Maybe she wants to feed some soup to her sick son. Maysilee feels bad from lying about being sick, especially since now she wants to go out and— the door cracks open, revealing who is behind.
It's herself. Or rather, her own body, with someone else inside. Wyatt. An unobservant person would probably mistake her for Merrilee, due to the pink dress, but Maysilee knows the subtle differences between herself and her twin. Also the necklaces make it abundantly easy to spot which twin is which. People just don't take the time to get to know them individually. Seeing herself from another person's point of view is so strange that Maysilee is stunned for a long while. It seems that Wyatt feels the same, because he doesn't speak up either. When they do talk, it's at the exact same time.
"I—"
"No, no, you first!" they say that in unison too and awkward smiles appear on both their faces.
"How'd you get in here?" finally says Maysilee, eyes darting around the room, finding it hard to look at herself.
"I, uh, lied to my ma about a candy order with delivery. I don't think she bought it but she let me in."
Maysilee notices the striped candy bag that Wyatt is holding between her own painted nails. She hopes he hasn't chipped the nail polish. She is however grateful he was smart enough to have a plan for how to come to talk to her. Maysilee was just going to try and show up at the Sweet shop. That was probably a stupid idea.
"This is so weird, isn't it?" she says, still unused to the deeper voice coming out of her mouth.
He nods back, the blonde hair swaying gently around his face. He closes the door and takes a few steps closer. Maysilee notices he has her favorite black Mary-jane flats on.
"Should we talk about the… you know… soulmate stuff?" Maysilee cringes at herself saying that but someone has to bite the bullet. Wyatt nods again and gestures to his bed. They take seat, close but not close enough to touch. He opens up the candy bag and wordlessly offers the contents to Maysilee with a small glance in her direction. It's filled with her own favorite sweet, a chocolate covered dried strawberry, and another she recognizes as a caramel crunch bite. Is it Wyatt’s favorite? She takes one of each and pops them in her mouth. It tastes good together. Better than she had expected. It's also the first thing she's eaten today and it makes her realize how hungry she is.
"Merrilee knows about all… this," Wyatt starts, hands gesturing between the two of them. "She's the one who helped with the hair, the candy plan and everything. She's great."
Maysilee can't help but nod in agreement. Her twin really is great. It must have been easy for her to notice that a boy was inhabiting Maysilee's body. "I'm glad you had her to rely on. All I did was lie to your mom about being sick so I could hide out in here all morning without having to talk to your family."
"It’s okay, it's a desperate situation, isn't it?" Wyatt laughs a bit and Maysilee thinks his reaction is cute but that'd mean thinking her own laugh is cute and that's confusing her. She groans, letting out a sigh before grabbing one more strawberry candy.
"How do we turn back? No offense but I really, really don't think I can handle going to work in the mines," she says, looking at him and then the closet where the coveralls are hung up.
"None taken. I honestly don't wanna go in there either. And I'd rather not work a shift at the Sweet shop. From seeing you behind the counter when it gets crowded, I've always been able to tell it's hard work," he says sympathetically. Maysilee smiles at his words.
"Thanks. You know, no one's ever acknowledged that. It is hard work. You would never guess much prepping actually goes on behind. Making the candy is actually tricky and boring and I have zero interest in it. Dealing with annoying customers is the cherry on top of the bad, too-sweet cake." Maysilee exhales sharply at the end of her rant. She looks up at Wyatt, to see if she's overdone it an put him off with her grumpy behavior, but a neutral expression rests on his (her own) face.
They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Maysilee doesn't feel in a rush to talk about the elephant in the room. She knows she brought it up first but talking about romance, soulmates, has never been her strong suit. That is usually Merrilee's game. Talking about cute boys is an activity Maysilee tends to just listen to, not proactively partake in. And someone bringing up a soulmate bonding story typically makes her roll her eyes. She must look gloomy, because Wyatt speaks up.
"So…from your overall behavior, I'd say you don't care much about the soulmate business. Didn't believe in it until it happened to you?" he questions, head cocked to the side, a hand playing with Maysilee's necklace around his neck.
If it were anyone else in her body, touching her precious necklaces, Maysilee would probably be furious, but Wyatt is so respectful and nice that she lets it slide immediately.
"It’s not that I didn't believe in it. I knew it was real. There's too much proof for it to be fake. And it happened to me, to us. But I just…" she trails off, not wanting to reveal her insecurities just yet. How she didn't think it'd ever happen to her. Because deep down she doesn't feel deserving of romantic love.
"Yeah, me too" says Wyatt simply. He looks at her, and instinctively wants to wrap his arms around her, but that would mean hugging himself and that's just weird. He can't wait for them to un-switch, however that would work.
"How do you think we switch back to our own bodies?" Maysilee asks, hands pawing at the rough fabric of her jeans, desperately wanting something to fiddle with to calm her nerves. Wyatt seems to notice that, because he pulls out the drawer of his rickety nightstand and hands out a coin to Maysilee. It's not just any coin. It's a scrip coin, the currency miners get paid in. Maysilee recognizes it immediately because the Sweet shop doesn't take scrip and she has to remind customers constantly.
The coin lays flat in her hand and she is unsure of what to do with it when Wyatt speaks up.
"It’s what I use when I need to focus on thinking, or just need to fiddle with something. You can use it while you're in my body. I'll take good care of your necklaces, by the way," he says softly, tapping the pendants on his upper chest. That makes Maysilee's heart squeeze.
"About the body switch, it seems to have happened during our sleep last night, so maybe just sleeping again will fix it all?" he continues talking as he watches Maysilee's fingers trace the coin engravings. She nods in agreement.
"Even if we don't switch back, tomorrow is Sunday so at least you'll be spared from the mines for one more day. We'll figure this out," Wyatt says with more confidence than he actually has. There's just something in him that wants to impress her. Make her think he's smart. Which he is, but body-switching soulmate bonding isn't is specialty at all. He doesn't think there's any odds he can calculate about this.
"What if we sleep and we don't switch back?" Her eyes, (his own) look at him with such fear that he can't help but reassure her, even if he has no strong basis for his claim.
"We meet up again and see what we can do. We could ask people around. Maybe it has happened to someone else before."
Maysilee winces at the thought of involving more people into their whole ordeal. She'd rather keep it under wraps. Not that she's embarrassed of Wyatt. He seems like the whole package, in all honesty. Kind, smart and handsome. What more could she ask for in a soulmate? But that's the issue. What if he realizes that Maysilee isn't that great. That she's got anger issues that boil down to her insecurities?
"Maysilee?"
Her head perks up at her own voice calling out her name.
"I understand if this is all too much for you. It's a lot for me too…"
They stay quiet a long while and share the candy until it runs out. Then, Wyatt remembers that he's in Maysilee's body in his own bedroom and his mother might be growing suspicious of why the two of them are spending such a long time in his room. Alone. That makes his heart race.
"Uh, I should probably go, but let me do something first," he walks over to his desk where he used to do homework during school and where he calculates odds when he feels like writing them down and not just doing it in his head. He grabs a notebook and a pen, flipping it to a blank page. Under Maysilee's gaze he writes information about himself that she should know about would she be asked for it.
He writes down the names of his family members and mine crew colleagues. His birthday and favorite foods. He writes about some easy to calculate odds, in the off chance that someone asks her about it. But that could be avoided by not going to the Hob. Oh dear, Maysilee having to go to the Hob, especially that old dingy garage his father gathers betters in makes his stomach churn in fear and disgust. That place is definitely not for her, even if she would hypothetically be in his body were she forced to go. They really have to figure out a way to un-switch themselves before that happens. Wyatt hands out the paper to Maysilee and she looks at him with gratitude in her eyes.
"Should I write something for you too?" she says, clutching the paper against her chest as if it's the most precious thing.
"Nah, Merrilee will help me out, since she figured it out immediately," Wyatt jokes and it draws a laugh from Maysilee.
"We aren't twins for nothing! She knows me better than anyone!"
"If you're wondering, it was the dress. Apparently, pink is her color, not yours. I'll be keeping that in mind from now," now he's laughing too and the sound of their chuckles fills the room.
"Okay, I really should go. I need to report to your sister. You should be fine for the rest of the day. Since you told my ma you're sick, just let her feed you soup, she'll mostly leave you alone. If my brother comes to tease you for whatever reason, tell him to get the hell out, and if he doesn't let up, threaten to tell our ma. It'll make him stop. Okay, am I forgetting anything?" Wyatt rattles on under his breath, under Maysilee's burning gaze.
He's cute when he speaks a lot. He said he's usually a quiet person but Maysilee guesses that she is an exception to the rule.
"Whether we switch back or not tomorrow, let's meet up at the Sweet shop," she says, suddenly feeling emboldened. Dark eyes meet blue ones and it's as if electricity fills the room.
When Wyatt leaves, Maysilee feels empty and alone. Is that what being soulmates is like? Feeling un-whole, only half of yourself, if you're not together? The feeling is unsettling and it leaves her craving his presence. Crazy to think that yesterday, the two of them were barely acquaintances, but from today, they share this special bond. This string of fate that ties them together. Later that night, after being given a big bowl soup by Wyatt’s mother, Maysilee goes to sleep in his bed. She secretly revels in his scent on the covers and pillow. It's like being surrounded by him and that bring her great comfort. With butterflies in her stomach, her eyes flutter closed and she slips into slumber.
When the blaring alarm clock wakes him up, Wyatt instantly knows he is back in his own room, in his own body. It feels good. Heavy and familiar. Back to normal. Maysilee's body had been so light. A tiny part of him misses the peculiar feeling that had been being in her body. It had been an interesting experience for sure. When he remembers the plan they made to meet up today, his body jolts awake, any remnants of sleepiness gone. Wyatt is starving, due to only eating candy and soup yesterday, well technically, Maysilee ate it while she was in his body. Thinking about yesterday makes his head spin so he goes on to focus on getting ready to distract himself from overthinking.
Somehow, meeting up with Maysilee as himself is nerve-wracking. What does she think of him? Does she think he looks alright? Wyatt feels like he looks like any other man from the Seam, with his tan skin and dark hair that falls messily over his forehead. Most people have grayish eyes, but his are a dark brown, almost black. Nothing to write home about. Whereas Maysilee is the prettiest girl he's ever seen. Well, not like he's paid attention to girls until this point. Romance had never been a big point of interest for him at all. What Wyatt cares about is odds and not getting in trouble with anyone. Helping out his family and living out his life in relative peace. Having a girlfriend hadn't really ever crossed his mind. Vague thoughts of it had passed in his busy brain sometimes in school, especially because of this couple with the soulmates marks in his class. But actually getting into a romantic relationship seemed way to far-fetched for him. He's just plain old loner Wyatt Callow. And now he has a soulmate bond with miss talk-of-the-town Maysilee Donner? Unimaginable, actually. He scrubs himself harder than he ever has under the cold shower water (hot water doesn't run in his house). Getting rid of the coal dust in every single crevice of his body feels of quite high importance today. After, Wyatt tries to tame his hair in the bathroom mirror but to no avail, it is as messy as always.
As soon as she stirs to consciousness, Maysilee's eyes snaps open. She needs to know if she's herself or Wyatt. Not that being in Wyatt’s body had been unpleasant but she does like being herself better. Seeing her own bedroom ceiling, pink fabric hanging around the light bulb, is enough of a confirmation. Just to make sure, she pats down at her face and neck, feeling up her dear necklaces. They're all here and in good condition. She gently takes count of all of them,stroking the beads, metal and cord, the charms, the heart-shaped locket with her grandmother's photo. Maysilee lets a small sigh of relief.
"Merrilee, Merri!" she goes and shakes her sister awake. Merrilee groans, a strand of hair stuck to her cheek with saliva. That makes Maysilee chuckle. "I'm me again! That was so weird!"
"Nng, hi, that's good," mumbles Merrilee.
"I need to get ready to meet Wyatt," says Maysilee, barely concealing her excitement. She's actually pretty nervous about it, but the positive emotions are taking over for now.
"Isn't it like, awfully early? Aren't you meeting him after lunchtime?" says Merrilee voice full of sleep.
"Yes, and?" retorts Maysilee. She has already decided she needs to look her best. Heading to the bathroom, she brainstorms her best outfit and jewelry combos. Plum dress with gold accents? No, too much. Skirt and blouse? Maybe. She could mix and match silver and bronze jewelry too. Her lavender dress is in the wash so that won't do…
As soon as Wyatt steps out of his room dressed in his nicest clothes, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, he can tell that anyone looking at him right now will figured out something is afoot.
"Going out on a date, honey?" Mrs. Callow says, looking up from her cross-stitch as she sits at the kitchen table.
Wyatt's eyes widen impossibly large. He straightens up, his whole body becoming stiff.
"N-no?" it comes out more like a question that a negative answer. His mother sees through him like he's transparent.
"Is it with the lovely candy store girl from yesterday? I knew something was up immediately, you know, you don't have to lie to your old ma," she gives a comforting smile, while Wyatt looks like he's about to be sick. He relents, sighing and lowering his shoulders.
"Okay, fine, it's her. But it's not a date, we're just, uh— meeting up as friends." he says, with fake confidence.
"Alright honey, I believe you. Anything else I should know about this new friend of yours?" she has a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile on her face. Had the bonding secret been found out? Had Maysilee said something weird at dinner that had pointed to her inhabiting Wyatt’s body yesterday? Wyatt cuts himself off from those thoughts. No point in ruminating like he often does. Telling his ma will be more straightforward and then he won't have to lie to her. And she won't tell anyone if he asks her not to. She's great like that. So Wyatt takes a seat on the opposite side of the table from his ma, and starts talking about yesterday's soulmate bonding.
Maysilee is a bouncing ball of nerves, waiting by the Sweet shop back door. She ended up putting on a lilac dress, with a white collar and lace trim at the hem. She paired it matching white lace socks and her favorite shiny black Mary-janes. For her hair, a simple purple ribbon woven into a braid pinned atop her head like a headband finishes the look. Of course, her numerous necklaces adorn her neck, and a couple of bracelets and rings decorate her hands. It's very her but not too elaborate at the same time.
Focused on smoothing out barely visible wrinkles on her dress, Maysilee doesn't hear the first time there's a knock on the door until it gets louder. Scrambling, she opens it, face a bit flushed. There stands Wyatt, hands shoved in his brown denim jacket pockets, eyebrows slightly furrowed and his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. Maysilee's heart skips a beat. Or two. His hair is messy, maybe from the late summer wind. There's a cowlick that she really wants to pat down for him before she realizes she's staring. Except she can't seem to make herself stop. Especially when he's staring right back. Their gazes cross for the first time in the correct body. It's definitely different than yesterday. Maysilee swallows hard, her throat feeling impossibly dry.
"Come in," she says in a much quieter voice than she intended.
Once they both sit in the backroom of the Sweet shop, closing the door behind them to not get interrupted, the awkwardness dissipates. Maysilee looks as Wyatt rolls the coin between his finger. It's the one he had lent to her yesterday, while they were swapped. Is he as nervous as she is right now?
"So," he starts in a low voice, "we did switch back in our sleep. That was easier than expected."
Maysilee nods at his words. She can't stop taking glances at his face. His dark eyes captivate her. She is desperately searching for the electricity she had felt yesterday, before they had parted ways. Maysilee inhales sharply, trying to regain control of herself.
"Yeah. I'm glad we did. But the question is, what do we do if it happens again?
Wyatt stays quiet, his features twisting into a pensive look, eyes looking faraway. When he licks his top lip, Maysilee's stomach flips.
"It’s not a solution, but one way we could deal with it happening again is to at least know a lot about each other. Then we won't risk getting found out if we get switched out of the blue," Wyatt proposes. It's a good plan. It makes a lot of sense.
Over the next few hours, Wyatt and Maysilee talk and talk. About everything and anything. Likes and dislikes, childhood, current jobs, hobbies. It never gets boring or dry, and the longer it goes on, the more Wyatt feels like he's known Maysilee his whole life. Despite how different they may seem at a surface level, Seam and Town, they both have the same outlook on life. A rather bleak one, that is. Defeated, hopeless, stuck in a cycle. Having no choice in their futures, the family businesses tying them down. An abysmal lack of friends. And no romantic prospects despite being in their early twenties. People marry young in Twelve, so even with no seeming interest in romance themselves, people around them coupling up does bring an unwanted sense of urgency.
A glimmer of hope shines through, growing as the hours pass. They have each other now. Fate has pushed them together and neither is rejecting it. When Wyatt looks at Maysilee while she tells stories of annoying Sweet shop customers, he can't help but smile. This girl, prim and proper looking, pretty pastel dresses and ribbons, has a large vocabulary of insults she doesn't hesitate to use. And he, as scruffy he may look with his mended, sometimes too big clothes and overgrown hair, would never dare utter such words. It's funny, this situation they're in. He's learned more about Maysilee Donner in a matter of hours than the whole population of the District where she's born and raised probably knows about her. Maybe with the exception of her sister and friend Asterid.
Now, he knows she loves clothes and jewelry. Well, that had been obvious. It turns out she's really talented with cord, as she shows off some of her impressive braiding work in her necklaces. She can use pliers and knows how to make pretty flowers out of beads and string. Maysilee even lets out in passing that she could make him a necklace, one to keep his scrip coin safe. That makes Wyatt feel all warm and fuzzy. At the mention of his coin, Wyatt want to impress her so he shows off some tricks. Passing the coin from one hand to the other by flipping it high, rolling between knuckles and cleverly hiding it away in his palm in mere seconds. Maysilee watches with sparkles in her eyes and Wyatt can't help but stare back at her in a similar fascination.
For a moment, it's just the two of them. Sitting on crates in the Sweet shop storage room. Eyes locked together. The sound of their breathing echoes in the room. Slowly, hands reach toward each other. Fingers interlace gently. His are a bit calloused, hers soft, but it's exactly what they need.
The moment is broken by the door opening loudly, hinges creaking, bright light from outside pouring into the dim storage room. Wyatt is startled and Maysilee scowls at her twin entering.
"Sorry to bother, but mom came home, and I don't think she's going to like finding you two in here, so I came to warn you," she says, eyes glancing at their intertwined hands, before leaving as quickly as she came.
Wyatt's stomach drops. He checks his watch. He has work tonight, he should be getting to the Hob by this time.
"I didn't realize so much time passed... I gotta go or I'll be late to work. My pa will have me work overtime for that," he hushes to Maysilee, who looks back with a frown. He knows how she feels. He wants to stay together and talk too.
"Can I…" she starts but doesn't end her sentence. She looks down at her hands like she regrets having spoken up at all. Wyatt cocks his head in curiosity.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, it's stupid. I was gonna say that maybe, I can come with you… but I know that'd be foolish. That place isn't safe for girls, right?" Maysilee looks at him with such sadness in her blue eyes, Wyatt feels like his heart stops in his chest. He'll do anything in his power to put a smile back on her face, but she's right. The Hob is already a dingy place, technically an illegal black market, but the Peacekeepers pay it no mind most of the time because they too, like the entertainment of a bottle of liquor or the occasional music number played there. But the old shed behind it, where Wyatt is about to go to, is definitely unsafe for a pretty town girl such as Maysilee. Wyatt's cheeks redden as his inner thoughts refer to the girl only a foot away, holding his hand, as pretty.
"Maybe another time?" he resolves to say, apologetically with a slight smile on his lips. Maysilee pouts but ultimately, he knows more about the place and whatever goes on there than she does, so she trusts Wyatt’s judgment.
Wyatt needs a drink. Anything to wake him up from his daze. He can't focus on anything. The numbers he's supposed to make sense of are just a scrambled mess in front of his eyes. Even putting it on paper doesn't help tonight. Every time he closes his eyes, Maysilee's blue orbs, golden hair, smile, appear behind. He cannot shake her away from his mind, even though he really, really has to focus. His pa will be breathing down his neck if he messes up these wrestling match odds for next weekend.
Earlier this afternoon, he had explained his odds making to Maysilee. Having someone actively listen and seem interested as he talked about his one and only passion in life had felt exhilarating. She had nodded along, not interrupting him, letting him rattle on about numbers and random observations freely, only asking for clarifications whenever she didn't quite grasp something. In the dim backroom, between the crates full of bags of sugar and the boxes of wrapped candies ready to be stocked on the shelves, Wyatt had never felt better about himself. This girl, whom he had barely known before yesterday, was becoming his number one best friend at break-neck speed. If the Fates really existed and had truly brought them together with this body-swapping, mind boggling experience, Wyatt wanted to thank them a million times. Not only Maysilee was gorgeous, she was nothing but kind to him. She might not be very nice to most people, but that was just because they weren't deserving of it. And also because she seems to hold grudges. Though that doesn't really concern him. As long as he gets along with her, he'll stand by her side.
Unable to escape her, he takes a break from the smoke filled shed to get some fresh air. Outside is cool for a late summer night. A slight breeze blows, making Wyatt shiver. He pulls on his jacket to try and keep warm. Walking over a few steps, he leans back on the wall of the shed. A glass of liquor would sure keep him warm but he resist a bit longer.
The events of the last two days replay in his mind. Waking up in her body had been totally weird, looking back. And he had survived the whole day without Maysilee and Merrilee's parents suspecting anything. Today, he had been back in himself and told his ma everything, because lying to her just feels wrong, and she had seen right through him anyway. At the very least, he had avoided getting teased by Kenneth, which is always a good thing.
Just thinking about holding hands with Maysilee earlier makes Wyatt’s heart beat faster. Considering that, maybe getting alcohol is a bad idea. Especially since he can only afford the cheap stuff, and that will burn his throat and stomach, ultimately making his heart rate rise too. He can do that himself by fantasizing about a certain girl, thank you very much. Thinking about her makes him feel like flying high above in the sky. It makes his head spin like when he has accidentally drunk too much after a long night doing odds for his father without resting. Huh. Is that why people say drunk on love? Wyatt exhales harshly. Stop it right there. Love? It's way too early to call it that. He's getting way ahead of himself. Him and Maysilee have known each other for all of two days. Sure, the Fates seemed to have decided that they're meant for each other, but it doesn't mean they're in love just yet. A small voice in his head perks up.
There's no way she'll fall in love with you, Wyatt Callow. Nobody likes you and your family. You don't even try to be likable. You don't have any friends, are average looking and—
Wyatt's hands clamp down on his ears with force to make the voice stop. He inhales deeply a couple of times. Deep down, he knows it's just himself, his own insecurities speaking, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it. It's just making him feel bad when he was actually feeling pretty good about himself for once. Something good had happened to him. Something mystical and rare. Something that could turn out beautiful, if he didn't self sabotage. He has to try his best. He's lonely, most of the time. Of course, he has his family and they're dear to him. But he'd like to enjoy the company of someone else from time to time. The soulmate bond had given him that opportunity and he isn't about to throw it away just because someone liking him seems unlikely. The odds… he hasn't ever tried to calculate his own romantic relationship odds because he'd always felt like they'd be bad. But now that the Fates had meddles with the numbers, he isn't sure.
Maysilee had looked happy too, chatting with him this afternoon. They'd shared personal stories and laughed, made dumb jokes and reminisced about the previous day's body swap madness. It had actually been one of the best days of Wyatt’s life.
His head feels clearer so he returns to his work in the shed. At the back of his mind, the promise to meet up next Sunday with Maysilee. Wyatt smiles to himself as he pushes the creaking door.
The week has been such a slog to get through. Work was annoying as usual. What about the start of September made people crazy for candy, exactly? Cinnamon cream cheese balls sales had gone up exponentially.
Maysilee can't wait for Sunday to come. On Saturday evening, she lies in bed, unable to sleep from anticipation. Tomorrow, she's meeting up with Wyatt again. A boy apparently fated to be her soulmate. Maysilee is normally skeptical, wary, quick to pounce and insult back anyone who dares to foul mouth her. The word guarded encapsulates her general behavior well. But with Wyatt, it's a completely different story. She feels like she's allowed to be herself. A simple girl. A girl who wants to be loved. One who had given up on dreaming years ago. With him, she can let go of this though act to protect herself from the harsh reality of life in the District. She may not have it as bad as most people, but the truth is, nobody can truly thrive under such an oppressive system. Sometimes she wishes it would all burn down. With him, maybe she can be sweet and kind.
You're getting worked up. You won't be able to change any of it. But you could let yourself have something good. Something sweet. Him. You've been pushed toward him for a reason. He's nice, that's a fact. Maybe he could rub some of that niceness onto you.
Maysilee remembers Wyatt, as he had entered the room while in her own body. He'd been awkward, understanding, and hadn't seemed to mind that the person he had switched bodies with for a day had been Maysilee. Granted, it was still a possibility he hadn't heard about her reputation, but Maysilee doubts that. He seems like a pretty observant person, with all the data he collects about anything and anyone around him for his odds calculations. He must have known. They weren't that far apart in school, and in such a small town, rumors travel fast. Even if he isn't the gossiping type, he simply couldn't have avoided hearing about all her verbal altercations.
Maysilee sighs to herself. Sleep really isn't taking her away as she wishes it would. She just wants to wake up and for it to be Sunday morning, so she can decide what pretty dress to wear to go meet him. Oh, how she wants to look her best for him. Well, she wants to look her best everyday, because it's one of the only things that bring a sense of control in her life. If she can't choose her job and family, she can at least choose how she presents herself. And Maysilee wants to look jaw dropping for him. Why? She isn't sure. She just knows she liked the way he had looked her up and down last time they'd met up, in their own bodies. With curiosity in his eyes and a flush on his cheeks. She wants to see that again. As she brainstorms color combos suitable for early September, slumber finally comes over her.
Wyatt wakes up in a cold sweat, springing up in a sitting position, hands gripping at the sheets. When his breathing calms down, images of his nightmare come back to him in a flash. A mines explosion; a common nightmare for any man working deep underground in the coal mines of Twelve. He wipes his brow with the back of his hand when he notices something is off. His eyes adjust to the brightness of the room, the sheer curtains letting in more light than in his own room. The hand that had touched his face was smooth, long painted nails shining under the moonlight. He's in Maysilee's body again.
Wyatt's stomach drops. Today, they had plans to meet up again. He had wanted to be himself for that. He wanted to take her down to the Hob, because he had to work collecting bet money at the wrestling match, and she had seemed interested in coming last week. He'd also definitely treat her to a drink. A good one, not something that would burn her throat. Maybe they could do something silly and romantic after, like stargaze on the way home. Maybe he'd hold her hand. It's all crashing down as he realizes he'll have to do it all while in her body and her in his. Exhaling, eyebrows pulled together, he does his best to see the positives. He'll still see her as they planned. It'll be alright. At least today, neither of them work their regular jobs, so no mines and no Sweet shop counter. Just two young people, meeting up. Ignore the weird soulmate bonding body switch. Yes. Just getting to know each other. Nothing strange going on.
Maysilee stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. Well, she's not exactly herself. The fates have decided that supposedly, once wasn't enough so she and Wyatt have switched bodies once again.
As her eyes scan her face, it seems more and more likely that Wyatt had failed to wash up after his last mine shift. Black coal dust sticks to the skin, into every inch of his face and arms. His sleeves must have been rolled up. Maysilee bites her lip as she considers showering. She'd have to get undressed for that. The mere thought makes her head spin and heart beat quicker. Still, there's no way she's showing up dirty like that to their meet up…date?
She's never seen a boy in any state of undress, so it takes a lot of courage to start. She starts with the pajamas t-shirt. Her breath catches in her throat as she eyes his bare chest and biceps. It feels invasive. Like she shouldn't be doing this. Wyatt isn't there to agree to it, she's just stuck in his body. She reasons with herself, trying to stay calm. Maybe he'd be grateful that didn't let him get out of the house looking unwashed? A lot of coal miners in Twelve give up on staying clean but Wyatt doesn't seem like the type. He'd been well put together last Sunday when they'd talked in the Sweet shop backroom.
Sighing, Maysilee resigns herself. She takes the pajamas shorts off, leaving only the flour sack underwear on. She's grateful for him wearing that. It avoids lots of potential awkwardness. Sponge bath time it is.
The sun is slowly making its descent in the sky. A cool breeze blows, making the hairs on Wyatt’s arm stand. He should have brought one of Maysilee's wool cardigans to keep warm. One thing he has learned by being in her body once again is, she runs way colder than his own body does. The sound of footsteps approaching makes him look up from the ground where he was kicking a pebble.
"Hi," says his own voice. It's Maysilee, inhabiting him again. The fates really have to stop this madness. Or they need to figure out a way to make it stop themselves.
"Hey," he answers, as their gazes cross. They don't need to comment on the switch. At least this time has been a bit less of a surprise than the first time. He scans her face, and realizes it's been washed. He vaguely remembers passing out in his bed, too tired to wash up and counting on doing it in the morning. Except he'd woken up in Maysilee's body. That can only mean one thing…
"Did you—" his voice catches at the thought of her having seen his body undressed. "Did you shower?" he asks, cringing at his obvious embarrassment.
"Oh, uh, no. Not really, I mean," Maysilee's words are choppy, as she grows flustered. "I did wash you up. Coal really gets everywhere, huh? I hope you don't mind," she says, as her face grows beet red, twisting on her fingers from awkwardness.
"It’s okay, I don’t mind," Wyatt says quickly. To make them both feel less awkward, he decides to share his own story.
"I didn't shower before sleeping but seems like you hadn't gone to pee, because I woke up in your body feeling like my bladder was bursting. There was no choice but to go, so I looked at the ceiling the whole time I did it. I wouldn't even be able to tell you the underwear color you, I? am wearing right now." He gives a snicker at her scandalized expression. He's never seen his own face be so expressive. Wyatt is usually the poker face type. She smack his arm as retaliation, but she ends up laughing too.
In the Hob, it's warmer than outside. Sunday evenings get crowded and body heat from people coming in makes it worse. There is still one hour until the wrestling match is on and Wyatt has to collect the bet money. He takes Maysilee on a tour of the place. It's not like there's much to show off but he does explain the different stalls, what they sell and who sells what, who accepts bargaining and who doesn't. They go sit at a table near the main bar. It's very crowded so nobody notices them, which really plays in their favor, being switched and all. Maysilee takes it all in, eyes sweeping over the crowd at the back of the warehouse. She raised an eyebrow and Wyatt understands her question.
"They're preparing the ring for the wrestling match. It's just mats and some barriers so the crowd doesn't get accidentally hit. It does tend to get kinda violent. We don't have to actually watch it. I don't care for it," he says, eyeing her, wondering what she'll think of it.
"I don't really want to watch either. Maybe we can go out during. So what's your job in all this?" she asks, hands crossed under her chin, all ear for him.
"My job was to make odds on who'll be the winner, based on their previous match results and other factors I won't bore you with. Tonight, my pa will announce those odds before it starts. People will take their bets and we'll, me and my brother, collect the money from them." Maysilee nods along his words.
"Once it's over, we give out the winners of the bet their profits, taking a cut for the Booker Boys fee, and that's it."
"That's…" she looks for the correct word. Saying 'interesting' sounds boring, insincere. She is truly fascinated by what Wyatt is able to do with numbers, and his job is so different from hers. To her, an outsider, it almost sounds fun. At least different enough from making taffy over and over, or weighing candy bags for ungrateful children.
"Do you have fun doing it?" Maysilee pivots her reply, wanting to know more about how he feels.
"Hmm," he thinks, a crease between his brows. "I do enjoy the math part, having to think about all the aspects of two sides, before deciding which will be the favorable outcome. I like being able to predict things and them coming to fruition. I guess it means I like predictability? Or being right," he gives a short laugh, and Maysilee can't help but join in.
On the sticky wooden table made from a crate older than Panem itself, their hands meet. It's different than last week, where they had been in their own bodies. But it's not unpleasant. Warmth bloom on Maysilee's cheeks. Wyatt wonders if his face is as red as hers right now. Gazing into each other's eyes, the sparks fly, the air is buzzing. When someone comes close to the table, they don't notice a thing.
"Hey, Wy, it's almost time to—" Wyatt’s older brother's words come to a stop as he notices Wyatt and Maysilee's intertwined hands.
"Oh, so sorry to interrupt your…date?" he says, eyebrows raised high. Maysilee and Wyatt profusely shake their heads.
Wyatt opens his mouth to speak up and answer to Kenneth when he remembers he's in Maysilee's body. This is going to complicate things, he thinks, until he looks at her. Her gaze tells him everything he should know. Why bother keeping it secret from Kenneth? Her sister and his mother already know. It's not like a soulmate bonding has to remain secret at all. Telling him would make the evening simpler, avoiding having to lie and pretend to be the other. With a nod, Wyatt steadies himself to tell his brother, who is looking at the two of them with utter confusion after witnessing their silent conversation.
"So, it's not a date," he starts, eyes darting at Maysilee, "and also, um," he trails off, suddenly feels at a loss for words, wondering how to explain everything simply. Maysilee takes over.
"We're switched, me and Wyatt," she says as if it's an easy concept to grasp.
"What do you mean, 'me and Wyatt'? You're Wyatt," says Kenneth, eyes narrowing to look at his brother's face, which Maysilee currently inhabits.
"It’s because I'm Maysilee, in Wyatt’s body right now. We're not messing with you. It's a…um…a soulmate thing," she says first with confidence, then her words grow quieter, arms crossed on her chest. Admitting that they're soulmates to people feels weird, but not in a bad way. Wyatt just nods along, hoping his brother is taking the hint.
It seems like he does take the hint, because a look of realization flushes over him.
"Ooh, that makes so much sense. And Ma was looking like she knew something was up with you this morning!"
"So you believe us?" says Wyatt.
Kenneth nods, but then his face takes on a serious look. "We've gotta go gather the bet money, like, now, or else Pa'll freak out and say we're makin' him lose cash."
"But, I'm, I look like this," Wyatt stammers, gesturing at the blonde hair and dress. Ken looks at him (in Maysilee's body) and then at Maysilee (in Wyatt’s) and says, "well, it's just collecting the money. All you need to do is go through the crowd and betters will recognize you as Wyatt and hand you the cash. Nothing too hard. You up to the task…?"
"It’s Maysilee," she says, a frown resting on her face. "And yes, I can handle it."
Wyatt’s heart skips a beat. Maysilee's attractive when she's self assured.
The three of them trade through the sweaty and rowdy crowd. The match is about to begin. The two competitors warming up in the ring. Wyatt tags close behind Maysilee as she gathers the money handed to her by betters who recognize her (or rather Wyatt, since she's in his body). As he follows her, he's glad to not be alone in here, because the way old drunk men look at him makes him shiver. Is that what it feels like to be a girl? That's upsetting. He had definitely been right when he had guessed that this place wasn't meant for pretty town girls.
When all the money is collected, Maysilee hands the wad of cash to Kenneth with a satisfied smile. Then, she promptly turns her heel, faces Wyatt and takes his hand, leading them out of the noisy warehouse and into the cool night air.
For a couple minutes, they take in the pitch black sky, the stars shining above them. Their linked hands warm between them. It is chilly, much more than earlier. Now Wyatt really wishes he'd brought the cardigan.
"Aren't you cold?" he asks Maysilee, looking up at her. It's weird to have to look up at his own face when talking to her. She shakes her head.
"Your body's really warm, pretty much all the time. Are you cold though? I could…" she doesn't end her sentence as she starts shrugging off the brown jacket she has on, and plopping it on Wyatt’s shoulders. Oh. Usually, it's a gesture a guy would do for his girl. The roles are just reversed here. But nonetheless, Wyatt appreciates that she did that for him greatly. He does feel warmer now. The flush on his cheeks is definitely not from getting warmer thanks to the jacket.
Loud cheers and applause coming from the Hob are growing distant with each step they take. Wyatt's hand is in Maysilee's again and that feels great. Who could have know holding hands would feel this good? Truthfully, Wyatt could die happy right now. The rush of happiness he's getting from being with Maysilee right now is incomparable to anything else he's ever felt. They may be in the wrong body right now, but that switch, soulmate bonding, had been a blessing. Pushing them together by force, since there was a low chance of them ever organically meeting and realizing how perfectly their pieces fit together. Looking up at the stars, Wyatt thanks the fates, the universe, for making his and Maysilee's paths cross. With his hand in hers, he barely feels the cold breeze anymore.
When he looks at her, she's already staring at him. In romantic stories, this is where they should kiss, or admit their feelings to one another. Maysilee's hand moves as if to cup Wyatt’s cheek, but a smirk forms on her face, soon followed by a burst of laughter. It leaves Wyatt feeling all confused, eyebrows down turned and lips quivering, full of questions. Maysilee stops laughing, an apologetic look on her face.
"I'm sorry, really, didn't mean it. It's just that, I tried to be sweet, touch your face, but then I realized it's my own face I'd be gently cupping and it sent me over the edge, so sorry," she says, a touch of amusement remaining in her tone.
Wyatt understands now. It must have been strange indeed. He deeply wants to do the same to her, but when he's himself. He wants to touch her face too, take her in his arms, feel her warmth, kiss her…
"I really wish I was myself right now." he says. Maybe things would have gone a bit differently if we were in our own bodies, he thinks in his head, picturing an embrace between them.
"At least we held hands. That's cute," Maysilee says, trying to see the positives.
"Actually, I like it better than I'd imagined I would, always thought it'd get sweaty" he says, hands in the jacket pockets. The Mary-janes on his feet kicking at the dirt. He stops. Maysilee wouldn't like him dirtying her shoes. He's right as he immediately senses her eyes on him. They both let out a chuckle at the silliness of the situation.
"The wrestling should be done by now. We gotta give out the winnings to the betters, and then we'll be free." Wyatt says, taking one last look at the stars.
"Okay." Maysilee pauses, following his gaze high up above. "How about that drink you promised me?" she says, and Wyatt can hear the smile behind her words.
"I'll treat you, of course. Don't think I've forgotten," he gives a wink with that.
It's late. Around ten more minutes before midnight rings according to Wyatt’s watch. The Seam is quiet, only a couple of owl sound in the night. There are barely any windows with lights behind them. They'll get to town in a short bit.
Maysilee feels a bit tipsy. Not to the point of having trouble walking, thankfully. As promised, Wyatt had gotten her something more refined than white liquor to drink for her first time at the Hob. She's not sure exactly what she drank was but the couple of smashed berries in the glass did give it a refreshing fruity taste. With the alcohol in her stomach and the constant blush on her face from being very near Wyatt the whole evening, Maysilee doesn't feel a lick of cold on her skin. They walk back toward the town together in relative silence.
"So, how was your very first evening at the Hob?" Wyatt asks, still wearing the— technically his own— jacket lent by Maysilee earlier.
"I had fun, but I don’t think the location had much to do with it." She gives a content smile, mussing up the hair at the back of her neck.
"It was fun because I got to spend time with you, Wyatt," Maysilee adds, looking up at the stars.
"I had fun being with you too, Maysilee" Wyatt says quietly. Taking his hands out of the jacket pockets, he reaches to hold her hand again. He's linked their pinkies when out of nowhere, an electric current surges through the both of them, pinning them in place.
It doesn't last longer than a couple of seconds, leaving them feeling buzzed and light-headed. There's this strange sensation like Maysilee has moved a foot to the left without her body actually taking any steps.
"What the hell was that?" says Maysilee, feeling disoriented. When her own voice comes out of her mouth when she speaks, it dawns on her. She's back in her own body! "Wyatt! We switched back!" she exclaims, feeling a burst of energy.
"Woah, did it happen exactly as the clock struck midnight? That's so weird," he says, checking his watch, still indicating twelve o'clock on the dot. He pats down his own body, making sure it's for real. Yup, back in good old Wyatt Callow. Feeling up the coin in his jeans pocket reassures him. He can do this.
"I guess it did, huh. Wonder if it'll happen again or if two time's the charm." Maysilee jokes. Switching bodies was fun and all but she would rather stay herself so she can look at Wyatt with her own two eyes and admire how cute he is.
There is a short silence between them. In the clear sky, the white crescent moon illuminates their features while a few streetlight close by give the scene a soft orange glow. Maysilee and Wyatt readjust to being themselves for a few seconds. She straights out her dress and necklaces, he fixes up hair strands that stuck out from the breeze. Once everything feels in order, there's this pull between them they can't spend any more seconds ignoring.
It's as if the stars are instructing them to move. Maysilee isn't sure she tells her hands to reach for his or if it's pure instinct at this point. In any case, she doesn't fight it. When her head meets his chest in a small thud, his arms wrap around her, making her mind goes blank in the most delicious way possible. She never knew being held could feel this comforting. So safe. Maysilee loops her arms around Wyatt’s neck, still acting on impulse, having no idea where this is going. He seems to be in the same boat, because his dark eyes, half-lidded, have this hazy look to them. His parted lips shine in the moonlight as he quickly bites down on his lower lip before releasing it. Maysilee's eyes flicker between Wyatt’s eyes and mouth, her heart thumping in her ears loudly. His fingers dig into her waist and the pressure should feel uncomfortable but it's the opposite. Maysilee can't get enough. She goes for it and presses herself up against him. Their faces are a few inches apart. She can feel his breath on her skin and count his eyelashes. Her fingers rake into his thick hair, drawing a soft sound from his mouth. He leans down a bit more and their noses touch.
In the middle of a dark street, at midnight, Maysilee Donner and Wyatt Callow share their first kiss. It tastes like berry liquor.
High above them, the stars are watching.