Chapter Four: The Switch

That afternoon, Jean and I went back to my place. She studied in my room listening to music while I watched Gloriana Florea on tv again. I tried to distract myself away from Jason's words with the show, but damn, he really got to me.

She can't say no. How true was that? I decided to find out.

I got up and closed the door. I didn't want my dad to come in at a time like this. I walked over to Jean and took out one of her earphones. She turned and looked up at me, studying me studying her.

"Come here", I said, walking over to the carpet and sitting down on it.

She followed me with a slow caution. She plopped down next to me, keeping a comfortable level of distance.

"W-- what is it, Nick?"

"Kiss me," I said. I felt my face becoming hot, but I continued my intent gaze on her, not looking away as badly as I wanted to.

She gasped, and turned away. She was quiet. "Okay," she eventually meeked. She closed her eyes with such tightness, and held my face, inching hers over to mine, slowly, slowly, slowly. It was as if she was stalling her death. When her lips were just about to touch mine, I stopped it and pulled away.

"That's enough of that," I said.

This time she stared at me for moments at a time, and I stared back.

"Be honest Jean. Did you even want to kiss me?"

"I . . . I didn't."

I buried my face into the carpet and groaned.

"Are you upset because I didn't want to kiss you?"

"No! I'm upset because you didn't want to kiss me but you were going to anyway."

"Well what did you want me to do?"

"I don't know. Stand up to me? Tell me no? Say 'not in a million years'? Leave? Anything but what just happened. Because if you were going to kiss me even though you didn't want to then that means--"

"--that I had to kiss Jason when I didn't want to."

I got up and jerked my lamp through my window. "I can't FUCKING believe that!"

I stood there looking out into the street at my broken lamp. I inhaled, then exhaled repeatedly. Finally, I composed myself well enough to have a calm and collected conversation.

"Jean."

She was still sitting there on the floor, wide-eyed. "Y- yes?"

"Why don't you ever fight back?"

"I physically can't disrespect a master, or go against what they say."

"Fighting back doesn't have to be a sign of disrespect. Just now when I told you to kiss me, even if you physically had to do it, couldn't you have told me beforehand 'only because I have to'? Couldn't you have made it clear where you stood? Why do you think you have to shut up and take it?"

Jean let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"Stop apologizing to me. Every now and then I see you get frustrated by the things I have to say, but you keep it in. Let's get past the point of politeness, shall we? Politeness is for strangers. Be raw with me. Be real."

"I . . . can't."

"Let me be perfectly clear. Tell me what you really think, right now. And don't hold back. That's an order."

"GOD, NICK!" Jean stood up, pounding her fist on the cushy bed. "I am so very very fucking sorry that I can't be as brave and confrontational as you but you don't understand. You will NEVER understand what the FUCK I HAVE BEEN THROUGH! You want me to fight back? Huh? You know what crush's someone's spirit? Being a fucking slave. Being forced to grant wishes to ungrateful fucking humans for thousands of years, many of them beating me, cursing at me, harassing me, and so much more. So fucking excuse me if I have lost the will to fight. Excuse me if I'm afraid to speak my mind, when everyone has always made me feel like I don't matter."

I sank in my chair. "There we go, Jean. You were finally real with me."

"I . . . I lost control for a second, Nick. I couldn't stop myself from saying that." Jean melted on the floor, cradling herself. "I never spoke to a master like that before. I never spoke to anyone like that before."

"Look . . . I'm sorry I made you say all that. I shouldn't have made you do it. But if you ever want to speak to me like that on your own free will then feel free to do it. Don't be afraid to put me in my place if I deserve it. Be honest with me. Be real. I respect it."

"Nick, you really . . . Don't understand. I get so anxious showing myself to people. My whole life, who I was never mattered. Everyone was more concerned with what I could bring them instead. In fact, trying to stand up for myself got me hurt. I'm immortal, but I can still feel pain . . . So much pain. Both physical, and psychological."

"You're right. I don't understand, but I want to. I'm trying to."

"How can you if you haven't lived it?"

"There's an idea, actually."

Jean narrowed her already narrow eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Let's switch places for a day."

"What are you proposing exactly?"

"For one day, say, tomorrow, treat me as, say, Jason treated you. Make it as realistic as you can. I'll obey all your commands, and follow all your orders, weighing you hand and foot."

She tilted her head at me, pondering about what I'd just suggested. "Are you sure? Jason treated me really--"

"--I know. That's why I want to do it. I'll never understand it unless I experience an example."

Jean parted her lips to speak, but no words came out.

"I told you. I want to understand. Not for you, but for me. Show me pain."

She nodded. "If you really want that, then I'll do it."

"Alright. Starting tomorrow."

"I should get going then. I need to plan out exactly how I'm going to do this." She headed towards the door. "See you tomorrow." Five seconds later, she came back in. "Oh and by the way, tomorrow you still need to avoid saying 'I wish'. I still have to grant a wish if you make one."

"Thanks for the heads up."

I was finally alone with my thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and evening, imagining what the next day would be like.

I woke up at five thirty in the morning to my phone blowing up with dozens of calls and messages. I read the messages. It was a formula of Jean accusing me of doing something terrible in one message, and then apologizing immediately after in the next, over and over again. I was confused at first, but then I remembered the deal--today Jean would treat me as Jason had treated her. We were off to a rocky start.

I finally answered my phone's ringing. "Hello?"

"Oh so you finally bothered to answer. What were you doing? Off messing with another girl?"

"No I just--"

"Admit it."

"I was sleeping."

"Yesterday you answered me at five fifteen, but right now you're answering at five thirty. What happened with the other fifteen minutes? Decided you needed a break from me?"

"No--"

"Come to my house right now, and you better be here in fifteen minutes."

I didn't even have time to use the bathroom or brush my teeth. I just changed my clothes and hurtled myself to my car. I had to speed to get to Jean's house in time."

Finally I got there with two minutes to spare. I rushed to the door and before I even knocked, Jean opened the door and pulled me inside.

On the table there was cheese, milk, and eggs. "Make me an omelette," she said.

No hello or anything, straight to the slave work I see. Well, I asked for it.

I did as told and made the omelete for Jean. She took a bite. "It's good, I like it." She pet my hair and kissed me on the forehead.

I wasn't expecting that in the least bit, so I immediately jumped back so hard that I slammed into the refrigerator.

Jean giggled nervously. "Sorry, I was just trying to make it accurate. Was it too much?"

"Well I did ask for accuracy . . . It's fine."

She giggled some more. "Okay okay, let me get back into character." She tried calming herself a few times, but the festering excitement was a lot to contain. Finally she got a grip. "We have time. Make yourself an omelette too."

"Yes, master," I said.

When I turned my back to make my breakfast, I heard more snickering. You're enjoying this, aren't you, Jean?

Once I was done, Jean had me do the dishes.

"Oh Jean, how rude!" Mrs. Wu walked in. "Nick is our guest, how could you let him do chores?"

Jean was all choked up at her mother's inquiries. "I--"

"I insisted," I said, which was technically true in the long run.

"Please, let me," Mrs. Wu said.

Jean stood in her way before she could. "Ma, it's early. You should rest some more. Don't you have an appointment at the hospital later today?"

"It's not your job to worry about that, dear."

"Dishes are all done," I said.

"It's okay now ma, go back to sleep."

"If I can even get any sleep." Mrs. Wu slumped herself back up the stairs.

"So is this what you did early in the morning? Go to Jason's house and make him breakfast?" I asked once Jean's mom wasn't in earshot anymore.

"Pretty much, yeah. Except I would have to make breakfast for Jason's mother too. They both had to like it, or I would have to scrap it and make it again. If his mom was in a bad mood she'd curse at me for making a bad breakfast too. As difficult as Jason was, his mother was so much worse. She was always so critical of me and Jason. She never held back to tell us what she really thought of us in the meanest way possible. It's not like I could simulate that part though. My mom is an angel."

"I see. Okay, back into character."

"Stand up," Jean was obviously doing her best to keep a straight face, but the edges of her lips kept twitching.

She circled around me a few times, looking at me up and down.

"Yes?" I asked

"Did you get dressed in the dark? What are you wearing?"

I looked down at myself. I had gray sweats, and a plaid green t-shirt. It's not like I was a fashionista or anything, but "I could have dressed better if I had more time to get over here."

"Oh shut up. I won't be seen with you wearing that. Come to my room. I got something you'll look hot in."

We went up to her room, and she handed me a bag of some brand name clothes. "Put these on."

"When . . . When did you get these?"

"Yesterday."

"Just for the simulation?"

"Yep"

I definitely was going to pay Jean back after this.

"Where can I change?" I asked.

"Right here is fine." She placed herself on the bed and stalked me.

I stared back, wide-eyed. I was tense about this, but I said I was going to commit to this for one day, and that was what I was still going to do. I slowly began to take of my shirt.

"I'm not going to actually watch this," she said, turning around to face the wall. "Jason usually does, but I won't."

"Thank you," I said, putting on the clothes she gave me.

"Just tell me if at any time you're uncomfortable. We can stop doing this."

"I told you I wanted to understand, Jean. I want to continue it. Okay, you can turn back around now."

She turned back and gasped into a grin. "You look really good, Nick!"

"Really?" I looked into her mirror. Denim jeans, plain white t-shirt, sneakers, sunglasses, and leather jacket just like all the basic bros in 80's movies. "I feel odd wearing this."

"Now the finishing touch." Without warning, she ambushed my hair and slicked it back.

"I look like a greaser."

"You look awesome. I'm gonna look good with your arm around me."

"That's a ridiculous sentence."

"And that's a sentence he actually said."

I noticed what Jean was wearing: a yellow Sunday dress with white polka dots. Now that I'd thought of it, Jean started dressing differently since she shook off Jason. She used to wear crop tops or spaghetti straps and short shorts, even in the cold. Jason must've always had her wear whatever was appealing to him, not taking Jean's wants or needs into consideration.

I drove us both to school, and when we got there people were looking at me. People were noticing me. I didn't like it. The point of the type of style I had before was to blend in. I didn't want to stick out.

We had some time to kill before class, so we sat outside my locker.

"Put your arm around me," Jean instructed.

"Yes, boss."

Jason walked by us with his new emo friends and made no attempt to his eyes of hatred and glare of disgust at me.

Ryan and Kaylee came over and sat down with us.

"Damn Jean, okay. I see what's going on there," Kaylee teased. "Y'all are getting cozy now, huh?"

"I guess so," Jean smiled, leaning her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arm around my waist.

"What's up with the greaser clothes?" Ryan raised his brows. "And since when do you wear brand designer clothes? Last time I checked you wouldn't even hit up Wal-Mart unless your very last shirt had a hole in it.."

"Well apparently I do now," I said, giving a stiff smile and patting Jean on the head in an unnatural way.

The four of us just sat there teasing each other, talking about jokes, drama and things that didn't matter all morning long until it was finally time for us to head to class.

During lunch, I met up with Jean at my locker. She had her hands behind her back, stared at the floor, and was fidgeting her body back and forth.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well uh, Jason and I spent every lunch together in the couples' hallway.

I flashed my mind back to the day I got the necklace, and remembered seeing them there. "Oh . . ." And then I remembered how Jason groped Jean and kissed her viciously. "OH! Well I won't do those things for the sake of the simulation. The point of the simulation is to show me what your life was like. Not make you uncomfortable."

"Would you be uncomfortable with it, Nick?"

My face got really hot imagining myself in Jason's place. "I don't care. I just want to learn, but not at your expense."

"I���ve already thought of a way around that. Come with me." She held my hand and led us into the couples' hallway. We took a seat.

My heart was pounding like a space bar, but I was mentally prepared for whatever would happen.

"I'm not going to actually kiss you or touch you," Jean said. "We're just going to pretend."

I exhaled, and my heart calmed too. "Okay, good."

"Are you ready?" her face became rosy with angst.

"I guess."

"Close your eyes." She pulled out a book and put it on my face.

I did as told. Next thing I knew, I heard 'mmm' and 'yeah'. She was grabbing the air in front of my chest and moving her lips all over her side of the book.

"Jean!" I snapped.

She opened her eyes. "W- what is it?"

I broke out into an enormous laugh. "YOU--" my laughing got in the way, I couldn't even let out my words. "YOU'RE!" I rumbled with the laugh just once more, this time I had to let it all out so I could speak. "YOU'RE MAKING OUT WITH A BOOK!" This time I completely lost it, and I was roaring so hard that I was on the floor. "HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Hey!" Jean protested. She started laughing as hard as I was. "Don't make fun of me."

"You looked ridiculous." I grabbed the book. "This must be a really good story, huh?"

"Stahp."

We laughed together for a good five minutes. Couples around were glaring at us. Finally, we became calm.

"I've already seen this part of your day firsthand," I said. "Did you really come here and do this every day?"

"Yep. Every day for two years."

"Huh. I don't get it. I know teenagers are horny bastards that can't keep their hands off each other, but didn't Jason get bored?"

Jean shied away.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"It's silly."

"What did I say about honesty? If I insulted you then you really gotta let me know because I won't be able to figure it out on my own."

"Do you really think being with me is boring?"

"That's not what I meant. All I meant was that making out here in this hallway every day just seems . . . repetitive, and also really tacky. I mean, you never played tetherball together? You never hung out with anyone else? You never shared pastries?"

"We never did any of those things. Every day was pretty much the same."

"What if one of you were sick?"

"If I was sick he'd get mad at me the next time he saw me and force me to text him constantly all day, and to do things like take pictures of spoons on my head to make sure I was really at home. If he was sick then I had to stay out of school and take care of him."

"What about on weekends though? Did you ever go on dates?"

"Rarely. He only ever left the house if he absolutely had to. That's mostly his mother's fault though. She has him do chores during the weekend, but since I'm his slave I have to do it on his behalf. I clean the whole house and take care of errands while he studies, from seven in the morning to four or five in the afternoon on most days."

"And then you go home?"

"Nope, I always went home on ten usually. After I finished the chores . . . Actually, the end of each day was the same. You said you wanted to experience it instead of being told what happened, right?"

"Right. Show, don't tell."

"By the way, Nick," she was charging the strength to say whatever she was going to say next. "When we get back to my house after school, I'm going to get back into character, and you might be uncomfortable with what you experience. If you ever want me to stop then just say so."

"I think I can handle it."

jean shrugged.

The bell rung. "I guess I'll see you in history class," she said.

I gave her the necklace to hold for me during P.E. "See you then."

We got through the rest of the day until it was finally time to go home. We went back to Jean's place, and she instructed me to do a little light cleaning around the house while she studied. When I was done I went back into her room and did my own homework for once.

"I'm done with my homework and studying," she said.

"I'm almost done."

She pulled the assignment right out of my hands. "You can do that later." She grabbed both of my shoulders and pushed me back onto the floor. She was on top of me, and our faces were just out of reach from one another. It's like we were frozen that way. Her expression wore a maroon color, but her eyes were dauntless.

I was honestly uncomfortable in this situation, but I wasn't about to tell her to stop. I wanted to know what would happen next. I was curious.

She grabbed a square-shaped piece of paper from her pocket and put it on top of my lips. She ruffled up my hair. "Close your eyes."

I did as told, and then Jean pressed her lips onto the piece of paper. It's not like that could actually count as a kiss--our mouths weren't touching--but paper was thin, and I could still feel the vague shape of her lips on mine. I felt stiff. So, so stiff.

She paused for a moment and grabbed my hands. "Come here." She got on the bed and motioned me to get on top of her. I was hesitant, but did so. She put a pillow in between us to prevent things from getting too intimate.

She got the piece of paper and we pretended to kiss again. "Unbutton my dress," she said.

"Wait, WHAT?"

"Just do it. Trust me."

Reluctantly, I unbuttoned Jean's dress all the way down, and was both shocked and relieved to see what was underneath: another dress.

Jean giggled. "Just pretend I'm naked."

"Ah, um, okay . . ."

"Now nibble on my neck," she said.

I placed my chin on her shoulder and got into position to do the task. My adrenaline was spiked and I've gone back and forth in my mind over it, but I finally convinced myself that I had to do it. I had to understand what Jean was going through.

I licked a spot on her neck and suckled on it.

"Agh! No!" Jean moaned.

I immediately jumped off of her and ended up on the other side of the bed. I was hugging one pillow as a shield, and she was holding another.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"It's my fault. I wasn't clear. I thought you could tell from the tone that I actually meant pretend to nibble on my neck."

"Oh Jean, I am so sorry."

"Let's just forget about it."

We were silent for a few minutes, not even looking at each other. I was thoroughly uncomfortable, but what surprised me was that I was actually a little turned on from kissing her neck. I was erect to be completely forward. I hadn't been able to get it up in a long time, but maybe now I was recovering from whatever that was.

"I think I understand now," I said. "Or understand better at least."

"Were you uncomfortable?"

"Yes, but that was the point, right? You must've felt the same way, except worse, having to do all these things every day, being a slave, and being forced to be a lover to a psychopath that wants to know your whereabouts every five seconds. I think I can get a sense of who Jason is too from all this. He needs some serious psychological help."

"Agreed."

"And again, I really am sorry I made you do this. I wasn't thinking. It was probably painful having to relive this all over again."

"I think I needed this too," she said. "For a long time I've been controlled repeatedly, again and again by so many masters. A few of them were nice, or at least okay, but the majority of them were so . . . cruel. And then today, I got the chance to be in control for once. I got to call the shots. I felt powerful."

"And what did you learn from it?"

"I think my masters had the attitude they did about me because they knew I was unable to fight back. People have a mentality to them. They think that just because they can do something then they should. It's scary what too much power can do to a person. Power-hungry is an easy slippery slope, you know?"

"Is that how you feel now?"

"I don't feel power-hungry . . . but I don't feel like going back into a bland, submissive blob either. I just want--"

"--to be free. The way you were before you met Jason."

"Yeah, I guess. Before Jason and I met I was better. Sure I had petty problems at times, but overall I was content. I was kind of a loner, but I found friends in books and stuff. I drew pictures. I wanted to be a manga artist. Once I regained my memories of my genie past I felt so trapped in it all. I have PTSD. I have panic attacks every night. I feel so . . . Hopeless. Like nothing has a point."

"I see . . . I just wish--"

Jean covered my mouth. "Be careful," she said.

I realized I almost made a wish, and stopped my sentence. I just wish things could be different. That's what I was going to say.

"Anyway, it's getting late," I said. "I think we should call it a night."

"We aren't done yet," said Jean. "There's one more thing Jason and I always did before we parted ways.

"Sex?"

"What? No! Well yes, but I didn't mean that!" Her face was flushed. "I mean after that."

Jean layed down and motioned for me to lay down next to her. I did so. She put a pillow in between us and we cuddled sorta. I was still stiff, and so was she.

"Awkward, right?" She asked.

"Very."

"Well you gotta cuddle me anyway, no choice."

I snickered.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me you love me."

My heart rate spiked. "What?"

"Jason always told me to tell him I loved him at the end of the day. I had to say it whether I liked it or not."

"I love you, Jean."

She was starting to doze off. "Stay with me until I fall asleep."

"I can do that . . ."

The sleepier she got, the more natural she became holding me until her heart rate finally normalized.

"Jean?" I asked.

"Mmm . . . Yeah?"

"Do you remember that day back in kindergarten when we met, and you lent me your maroon crayon?"

"I don't remember . . . I had a 64 pack of crayons. A lot went missing. I thought I lost it."

"You gave it to me when I had nothing to draw with. . . It was actually a really nice gesture at the time. I know it sounds odd, but all this time I've wanted to say thank you for that because I always pay my dues, but then so much time had passed that it felt odd to even bring it up."

She wasn't responding anymore. She was asleep, which meant I was free to go. I wanted to stay a bit longer though. I wanted to rest. Her head was all nuzzled up next to mine, and I involuntarily took in her scent. She smelled pleasant and clean like baby powder. I watched her sleep a bit. She was objectively very cute. She looked so innocent and peaceful sleeping there. I just kept thinking about how complicated Jean's life was, and how she was such a mystery that I wanted to know better. I don't say that because she's a genie, but just by the way she is. The observations she made. The opinions she had. The feelings she felt. Being around her was beneficial to my quest in understanding people better.