“I swear, Alison,” said Deborah’s mother when she came to wake her up for school and saw the wet sheets. “What is this? The second day in a row? I won’t mention the accidents you had Wednesday.”
Deborah looked toward her mother. “I’ve been having bad dreams at night,” she said. She did not want to tell her about her regular bad dreams and she definitely did not want to tell her about her body jumping.
“We will talk about this later. Get ready for school and come down for breakfast.” Her mother walked toward the door, but turned back to face Deborah. “We need to have a talk after school.” She left Deborah alone.
Deborah went to the bathroom and peeled off her wet pajama bottoms. This had to stop. There was no way she could continue waking up wet every morning that she had been in Alison’s body. She was at a loss. The hot shower water rinsed the pee smell from her legs and crotch. Her hands rubbed the soap against her skin. It was much softer than her skin had been before when she was Deborah, but of course, Alison was much younger. Her hair was an actual color: a deep, rich brown that contrasted with her milky white skin. It was a lot better than the mouse brown her old hair had been, plus it was straight and smooth. She wondered why Alison wasn’t more popular.
She wasn’t in the in crowd because she was smart. Lia had confirmed that, and besides, her accident in school did not help matters. Lia said people would forget about it soon, but she doubted it. She still remembered the girl in seventh grade who wet her pants before giving a presentation in English class.
She stepped out of the shower, toweled herself off and hurried to her room to dress. She chose a plaid skirt and a white top–the Catholic look would always be in–and headed down stairs for breakfast. She smelled bacon and eggs as she walked down the stairs to the kitchen.
A man, sitting at the table looked up from a newspaper and greeted her, “Hey, pumpkin, did anything exciting happen when I was gone.”
She looked at her mother who shook her head. “No, sir.” She pulled out her chair and sat down.
“Why so formal today?” he asked.
Deborah’s father had been in the military and expected her to say “yes, sir” and “no, sir”. This would take some getting used to. At least she was able to spread out the misery a bit. “Sorry, Dad.” Sooner or later someone would think her miscues were strange and they might find she wasn’t who they thought she was.
“I missed you when I was away.”
“I missed you too, Dad.”
“Well, I better get to work.” Her father folded his newspaper and walked out the door.
Deborah sat and ate her breakfast.
“Now remember we need to have a talk when you get home,” her mother said.
“It’s going to be about my punishment for wetting the bed. Isn’t it?” She wondered what her mother could have in store for her. Fear of punishment might make things worse. She knew that a punishment wouldn’t make the dreams go away. Nothing would.
“It is about your bedwetting,” her mother said, “but don’t think of it as a punishment.” She picked up Deborah’s empty plate and took it to the dishwasher. “Now catch you bus before you get left behind.”
Deborah hurried out to the bus ready to begin class
Like yesterday, Deborah rode the bus sitting next to Lia. “I’m so glad it is Friday,” she said. “So are we going to work on Spanish after school?” She really needed help to get through her Spanish conversation. She had tried reading through it, but had trouble with her pronunciation.
“Well, I thought we’d see Star Trek and then study.” Lia looked at her and smiled. “You can stay over at my house and then we can stay up as late as we need to get through the entire conversation.”
“Lia, I don’t think it would be a good idea to stay at your house.”
Lia looked hurt. “I thought you would protest going to see Star Trek. We could see a romantic comedy if you insist, then you can come over.”
“Star Trek is fine,” Deborah said. She wanted to see it, but did not want to wait too long to get studying. She certainly didn’t want to spend the night and wake up wet at Lia’s house. “I just don’t want to sleep over.”
“We have fun. We’re best friends,” Lia protested. “Why don’t you?”