Chapter 9

Nine

M aple

“That could have gone better, but it wasn’t terrible,” might be the most insightful thing I’ve ever heard coming out of Brayden’s mouth.

“Thanks for your help in there,” I say.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says, rubbing his hands together excitedly as the server delivers his bowl of spicy ramen.

He’s correct, and yet the board of directors really liked him.

I half-assed my way through the presentation, pretty much echoing everything that was being spelled out in the slides. Afterward, the board president patted me on the back, informed me that I’m due a big bonus, and more or less implied to Brayden that he has a promising future with the company.

Meanwhile, as far as I could tell, Hollis’s assistant, Erin, did most of the technical work.

That’s why, immediately after the board of directors dispersed, I sent Brayden off to do some busy work while I dove into Hollis’s computer and did a little bit of re-arranging. His big end-of-year bonus is going to Erin, along with a more substantial cost-of-living raise.

That’s the new era of Maple at work. The Bad Bitch uses her powers for good.

“Why are you smiling like a cartoon villain?” Brayden asks with his mouth full of noodles.

I’d be grossed out if I wasn’t feeling maternal about the boy.

“I was just thinking about wealth redistribution. You know. The usual.”

He nods, a pleasant, if blank, expression in his eyes. “Cool. So I was wondering about the workshop tomorrow.”

God, I hope I’m not still stuck in Hollis’s body tomorrow. I do not want to be trapped in New York for an entire weekend with this kid. “Right. The workshop. Were you wondering what parts of your presentation need fixing, or…?”

Brayden shakes his head. “Nah, I was wondering if we could do our work in the game room. I think I saw an air hockey table.”

Oh yeah. I’d noticed how Brayden had gawped at the classic Art Deco office building on Central Park West and behaved like a kid in a candy store at the sleek, contemporary workspaces inside. The snack carts, bean bags, and screening rooms outfitted with comfy chairs and cupholders. And yes, the game room.

“Sure, why not?”

“Sweet!” Brayden really is easy to please. I almost feel bad for being filled with such vitriol against him yesterday. He is not the brightest bulb, but he’s sweet. Innocent. And okay, fine. Hollis is right; he’s fun.

Sigh. I hate it when I’m wrong.

My consternation flies away briefly when the server delivers my plate of steaming pork buns and bowl of spicy miso ramen. I don’t usually indulge in a huge lunch—I stuff my face with a fast food salad in my car—so I’m going to enjoy it. And since I’m occupying someone else’s body? I’m going to stuff my face consequence-free. With his lean muscles and speedy metabolism, Hollis doesn’t know how good he has it. If I ate like this with my digestion, I’d be bloated for days.

As I’m diving into my pork buns and soup, and listening to Brayden chatter excitedly about all the things he’d like to do while in the city, my phone alerts me to an incoming FaceTime call. I hate not carrying a purse; I am going to yeet this belt clip into the sun.

“What are you eating?”

“Hi, Hollis. I mean…Hi…Maple. Pork buns. You?”

On the screen, Hollis-as-me appears to be riding in the back of the rental car, headed somewhere. I see my face looking enraged and white as a sheet.

“Ma—Hollis,” Hollis hisses. “That was the creepiest, most violating experience of my entire life.”

Oh. The exam.

“Welcome to womanhood,” I sigh.

Brayden slurps his ramen and laughs. “Dude, what?”

“Inside joke,” I tell him.

He shrugs and goes back to his food.

“How and why do you…how do women put up with that?” Hollis asks.

I sigh. “Prevention of cervical cancer and other issues? Access to birth control pills? I don’t know what to tell you, bro.”

Hollis leans forward and whispers. “I told the doctor about…that other thing… Why haven’t you mentioned it to him before?”

“What other thing?”

Did he go to my house and look through my journals? Because I might have to kill him.

“Let’s have a text conversation about this. I’m not alone.”

I hang up before Hollis can push back on it, then immediately receive a text from him.

I mentioned the weird cramps you’ve been getting in between your periods.

What did he just type? I chew on a pork bun and feel rage building in my belly.

How did you know about that?

I just knew. Like, I can feel your past pain. It’s weird.

Bullshit. I deleted my period tracker, so you must be reading my journal.

I promise I’m not! I swear to god, I feel stuff.

This can’t be good. I don’t like this.

None of what’s happening is what I would call good, baby girl.

I am a whole-ass grown woman who has never been spoken to like that in her life. I’ve no intention of letting anyone call me that now, either. And yet…and yet…ugh. What is wrong with me? Why did I feel a tingle in my belly when I read that? What the fuck is going on? Hollis is reading my memories. I’m feeling fluttery sensations for a man, inside a man’s body that doesn’t work the same way as mine. It feels like something bigger is happening, like our brains are becoming one. Or bodies. Or something. I feel violated, but this entire day has been a violation.

So…what did the doctor say when you told him about the weird cramping?

He said to consider improving my diet and exercise regimen. Following that, I should take Tylenol and get more sleep.

Good. Fine. Do that.

So I told him I wanted a second opinion.

Hollis!! Do you know what that’s going to cost me to go out of network?

Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. I brought it up, so I’m taking care of you.

Despite all my misgivings about the trouble he’s been causing me today, a warm feeling travels down my back when I read those words. I’m taking care of you. I don’t officially approve. And yet…

So, do you want to hear about the meeting?

Yes!

I feel bad for socially abandoning Brayden while having a text conversation, but when I look up, he’s smiling and watching people walk by. Laughing at pigeons. Waving at cops on horses.

Opening up Hollis’s email, I take screenshots of the board of directors’ feedback and the notification about his coming bonus, then share all of it via text.

Wow.

I guess they liked what you showed them.

Erin did most of the technical work.

I know. Which is why Erin shall be awarded your bonus.

Excuse me?

Problem?

…no problem.

I sigh. This mess.

What are we going to do?

We just have to wait, and we’ll wake up from this nightmare. I don’t see any other options until we hear back from Magda. Don’t worry. It’s all gonna be okay.

It’s really not, Hollis.

Listen. None of my research says anything about demons casting spells like this. I don’t think it’s demonic.

So you’ve finally accepted the idea that the cause of this is something supernatural?

I can’t believe I even let myself entertain that idea for a minute. But…yes. It might be. Might.

Acceptance is the first step to healing, lol.

I’m going to go heal my feelings with an entire pizza and take a nap in your bed.

How can you take a nap at a time like this?! We have to figure this shit out!

Because I’m out of ideas. Because this is stressful. And because I’m still recovering from the doctor’s visit.

I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost. Yes, there’s a definite twinge of empathy. An urge to hug him? I don’t know. Maybe to tousle his hair and tell him he’s doing great. But that’s all.

It is my body, after all. Sure, go have a nap.

You should nap, too. I bet everything will be back to normal when we wake up.

Maybe. But I doubt it.

At the very least, go fuck around in my apartment. You know I’m going to rifle through all your shit today.

HOLLIS.

Goodnight, sweetheart.

A sensation like I just swallowed something warm and spicy fills me to the tips of my fingers and toes. And it’s not the miso.

No one’s ever used terms of endearment with me except my parents. I don’t understand why Hollis is doing it. And I don’t understand why I don’t hate it. Especially knowing he’s going to snoop in my room.

But I know one thing. It really sucks that it’s happening two hundred miles apart.