“I didn’t.”
“—you are depressed. You really need to start—”
“Depressed?” Chris’s head snapped upright; she jammed one hand onto her hip. “Eva, this is nothing like depression. I’m trying for something I’ve never had in my entire life, total contentment and total confidence in my ability to give up control and just be in the moment.”
“I get that.” Eva’s voice gentled. “Really, I do. It just...doesn’t sound like you.”
Chris closed her eyes, let her arm drop and recentered her body, trying to maintain mental equilibrium. It occurred to her suddenly that her twin might just be disoriented by the changes. She tried to think how she’d feel if their positions were reversed and Eva started behaving differently. It would certainly be confusing and frightening. Maybe Chris would react negatively, too. “People change, Eva.”
“They don’t change that much. Not fundamentally.”
“Trust me, I’m more me than I ever have been.” She glanced at her watch, trying to ignore Eva’s exasperated snort, though it hurt a little. “I have to go. Gus is picking me up in a couple of minutes.”
“Now? It must be after ten there.”
“What, do I have a curfew?”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re just not a late-night person... Right, I know, you’re changing. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything stupid like fall for him.”
“Om Saha Naavavatu. If the crystals align, and my chakra bids me to do it, I just might.”
“Uh...Chris? You’re really scaring me.”
Chris’s laughter died into dismay. “Eva, I was kidding. I don’t really talk like that, and I’m not going to fall in love with Gus. Please don’t worry about me. I’m really fine.”
“But— Oh. Ames is telling me to butt out again. I’ll let you go. Have fun.”
“Thanks, Eva.” Chris hung up, unsettled and anxious—the way she used to be nearly all the time. She and Eva rarely disagreed, especially about anything so personal. Thank goodness she had a weapon against that kind of tension now. Eva would come around when she saw how much freer and happier Chris was in her new skin, and how their relationship would only change for the better. Next time Eva decided she wanted to go out after Chris had already settled into a comfortable chair with a good book or movie, Chris would be all over it instead of declining. Maybe she’d even cut her hair for real at some point.
A peaceful minute later, she was calm again, adjusting her funky wig, smoothing the hem of her casual floral tunic top which she wore over skinny jeans, and remembering the outfit she’d worn on her first date with Gus—a fancy white top, carefully ironed blue linen shorts and matching sandals. For heaven’s sake.
This evening would be fun. Casual and playful. Definitely out of the ordinary. On dates in New York, she’d go to a show, a movie, a museum or to any of the thousands of fantastic restaurants. Ah, New York.
Tonight she was going to play pool and darts in a bar with Gus and his buddies. Now that she was so much less judgmental, having let go of the fear that required her to be in control at all times, she was open to so many more experiences. She was quite sure she’d love this one.
* * *
THREE HOURS LATER, Chris walked back into the house, head pounding, throat hoarse from shouting over the music and over the other people shouting over the music.
She’d hated every minute of tonight.
The pool hall had been loud and full of too-young, weird-looking people, and as much as she tried very hard to love and accept them all, she really wanted most of them to grow up and be quiet and stop drinking so much. A long, hot shower would be a super idea for many of them, too. And maybe a few could give the tattoo parlor a rest after six or seven thousand visits.
Yes, she’d gotten one tiny tat on a particularly fun evening last fall when she’d been out with Summer and the rest of the part-time staff for a meeting that had turned into a bar visit and a trip to the parlor. She and Summer had both gotten tattoos—after Chris insisted on paying. Summer got a tiny rose on the inside of her upper arm. Chris’s phoenix was rising from the ashes to signify her new self emerging. Clichéd, but she loved the symbol. At least her tiny delicate bird didn’t take up most of her visible skin so it looked as if she’d been rolling in used engine oil.