Chapter 11 - Are you meat or are you loaf? Huh?

Taylor

I shot Abby a dirty look as I stumbled and nearly toppled over. I let out a grunt as I set down the insanely heavy box that was in my arms. She grinned and patted me on the head as if I were a puppy.

“Thanks for the help with the box of decorations,” I muttered, sarcastically. She shrugged and finished off the Snickers bars she’d been feasting on. “Need I remind you that I have the strength of a skinny, wimpy girl?”

“And that’s supposed to be any different than the strength I now possess?” She grinned and opened the bag of Lay’s potato chips beside her. “Besides, I’m way too busy filling your stomach. Do you realize that you’re always hungry? Like, the last night I had just eaten three helpings of your Mom’s home-cooked spaghetti and meatballs and an hour later your stomach was growling furiously at me.” She stopped and noticed my less than amused expression. “What? It’s a serious burden that I am still living to cope with.” I sighed heavily as she happily chomped down on a mouthful of chips.

“Ugh, slave labor... oops, I mean detention... sucks big time,” I commented, flopping down on the floor beside Abby. She nodded in agreement.

“I know what you mean,” she added, stuffing some more grease into her mouth. “I am truly suffering here.”

I gently punched her in the arm. “Can you get off your lazy ass and help me sort through these stupid decorations?” She grumbled and obediently peeled the masking tape off of the box.

We both scrunched up our noses as a stunning combination of mothballs and basement flooded our nostrils. Abby reached into the box and pulled out all kinds of pumpkins, ghosts, skeletons, and other assorted Halloween goodies to adorn the hallways with.

“What the hell are we supposed to do with all of this shit?” I asked, pulling out fake body parts and setting them on the ground. “It’s still September and we’re going to make a Halloween hallway. Does this seem odd to you?”

Abby shrugged. “Seeing as how we’re the only “volunteers,” it’ll probably take us the entire month to decorate the school.”

“Wait, I thought we had to decorate the courtyard for the carnival?” I asked, extremely puzzled.

She rolled her eyes and continued sifting through the box. “The carnival is next month, Taylor. Why would we be decorating for it now?” She grinned and pulled out a bunch of cardboard black cats. “You’re such a doofus sometimes. Ooh, these are so cute!”

I made a face as I threw my hair up into a messy bun. I never really was all that good at doing hair. I mean, my hair always just kind of landed where it landed and people called it stylish. “Wait a minute! Does that mean that we have to serve more detention next month?”

She threw a miniature pumpkin at my head. “Yes, genius. That means that we have to serve more detention next month. And you’re supposed to be the smart one.” She paused, grabbed another handful of potato chips and shoved them all into her mouth. “Speaking of being smart, how’d my chemistry quiz go?”

I swear, she has to be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever conversed with.

“Swallow and then speak, okay?” I scolded, repulsed. And that says a lot when you live with Zac Hanson. And Zac at least held the defense that he was only a guy. For girls, manners were supposedly more of a second nature. “And I got a hundred on the quiz. It was easy, really. Not a lot of your classmates really understood the whole converting liters to grams to moles to atoms thing so I think the teacher made it really simple.” I shrugged and began playing with the masking tape sitting next to me. “Chemistry isn’t so bad, really.”

Abby sighed heavily. “I miss it! Your economics class is so boring I want to shoot myself in the head.”

“But you’re doing okay in it, right?” I asked, nervously.

“I got a 98 on your test,” she said, her head down. “I know you would have aced it but I really did study hard! And, I’m really not all that good at economics! I’m sorry I couldn’t get a hundred.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and smiled. “Hey, a 98 isn’t bad at all! It’s still an A+ so I guess I can’t kill you for it.” She rolled her eyes and let out a giggle. “Besides, I know you’re doing your best and I appreciate it.”

“Me too,” she replied.

There was an awkward silence before Abby cleared her throat.

“Well, I guess we’d better get cracking on decorating then,” she commented, moving away from me quickly. I nodded and dug through the box, grabbing a variety of skeleton cutouts and other things of the sort. I was the designated “tape manager” while she was in charge of hanging things on the wall. My job pretty much consisted of dragging the box behind us and handing her pieces of tape because I was now too short to hang everything myself. And, Abby was still tall for a girl.

I don’t know how I would cope if I were suddenly thrown into a 5’2” body. My center of gravity would have been completely off. Losing an entire foot would have made my entire view of the world drastically different. Thank the Lord for small miracles.

After about three hours of hanging, dragging, and getting tape stuck in my ponytail, I looked down at my watch and let out a silent prayer of thanks. Detention was finally over for the day.

Great. Only four more days of merciless torment left.

“We got a lot done for only having the two of us,” Abby commented, as we admired our hard work. I nodded, letting out a small whistle at our gorgeous designing skills. I swear, we’re simply brilliant. We’d managed to complete two long hallways, which was quite an accomplishment for two people on their own.

I think music is no longer my true calling. Interior design is definitely the way to go.

Yeah, okay whatever. I am exaggerating horrendously, but I am a damn good decorator. Hey, I am! Abby was more of the brawn while I was definitely the brains. Really...

Abby looked at me and frowned. “What did you just say?”

I nearly jumped a mile. “Did I say something? I guess I was deeper in my thoughts than I thought I was.”

“Did you just say that you were the brains of this operation?” Abby asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “You’d better watch your mouth or I’ll... I’ll... do something really bad to embarrass you!”

I snorted and put my hands on my hips. “Ooh, I’m scared. As proven yesterday, anything you do to me, I can retaliate with something better. So, your threats are empty, my dear.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not really the bullying type.”

“Prick,” she muttered, through gritted teeth. “You know, just when I think that you might actually be a human being, your true asshole colors come shining through.” She walked over and grabbed the jacket she’d worn to school today from the floor. “This was a blast.”

My jaw just dropped as she stormed out of the school. Hello, wasn’t she going to wait for me? After all, she was driving my car home! How DARE she not wait for me? I muttered a couple obscenities before running into the parking lot. I immediately spotted Abby backing out quickly.

With an agitated sigh, I waited for her to stop for me to get in. The Explorer continued to head straight for me, without any sign of slowing down. Like she would actually run me over.

“ABBY!” I screamed, as the car stopped probably a faction of an inch away from running me over. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She merely laid on the horn and daintily gave me the bird.

Now, call me crazy but it seems as though I’ve pissed the lady off.

I stomped toward her and she rolled her window down. With a smile, she put her middle finger on the tip of my nose.

“Yeah, okay, I see it,” I muttered, pushing her finger away from my face. “I see that you’re pissed at me for some stupid reason. But, can you let me into the freaking car? It is mine after all.”

Abby narrowed her eyes at me. “This vehicle belongs to Taylor Hanson. I believe that’s me, buddy.”

“But I’m REALLY Taylor Hanson!” I protested, huffily.

“I have an idea, why don’t we go and take a poll on it and see what everyone else in the free world decides?”

I laughed tensely. “You really are a witty girl, Abby. Now let me in my car and let’s go home.”

She pretended to think. “Umm… how about no?”

“No? What do you mean no?” I exclaimed, getting angrier. First of all, I had no idea why she was so pissed off at me in the first place. So what if I said that I was the brains of everything? That’s just me being obnoxious. That’s just me being me. “You can’t tell me no! It’s MY car!”

“I’d really like to see you fight that one,” Abby said, rolling the automatic window up.

I gaped at her. “But, I thought you wanted to get together to find a cure! How am I supposed to get to my house? It’s like, fifteen miles away!”

She rolled the window down a crack. “You know what, Taylor? I don’t care if we don’t look for a cure tonight! Frankly, I don’t want to be in your presence a moment longer. It would be incredibly stupid of you to stop by tonight because I think it would result in my killing you before the night’s over. So, we can resume out quest for a cure tomorrow after detention, providing you don’t find a way to make yourself insufferable.” With a belittling wave, she took off in my Explorer.

I just watched her drive away for a few moments. I thought in the beginning that she would actually come back for me and insist she was merely joking. But I was clearly wrong.

I ended up waiting for forty-five minutes before I succumbed to the idea that she wasn’t coming back to pick me up. I wasn’t devastated or anything, just surprised really. I didn’t think that I had said really anything that had been that horrible to just leave me stranded. Not only was I stranded, but I wasn’t even allowed to come to my own house tonight. MY OWN HOUSE!

I kicked a pebble in my path as I made my way towards Abby’s house. What was I going to do with myself tonight? So far I’ve managed to avoid being at her house as much as possible by being at my own house or at school or just not there. I didn’t have a car to get me anywhere. I didn’t know Brooke’s phone number to invite myself over either. No, tonight I was stuck facing her family all alone.

After a long walk of feeling sorry for myself, I entered Abby’s house. It was about quarter to six in the evening, and I assumed that therefore all members of the household would be home. That was just ducky.

A woman, who I assumed to be Abby’s mother, looked over at me as I entered the kitchen. It looked like she had been making some kind of meatloaf dish for dinner. She smiled at me, her blue eyes twinkling. I smiled back, trying my best not to show my fear.

“Hi, Abby,” she began, kissing me on the cheek. “How was your day today?”

I blushed from the kiss. It was weird having some woman you didn’t even know kissing you like that. “It was okay.”

“You’re home awful early,” she continued, focusing on the meatloaf in front of her. With her back turned to me, I was able to scrunch my face up in disgust at the thought of eating meatloaf for dinner. I loathed meatloaf. My distaste for meatloaf wasn’t as overwhelming as my abhorrence for bacon, but it still made my stomach set funny.

“Yeah.” I opened the refrigerator slowly and peered inside in hopes of some kind of snack that could tide me off until I could sneak back down for food later.

“Abby! We’re about to have dinner!” Her mother scolded, shoving the loaf in the oven. “It’s just about ready.” With the meatloaf out of her hands, she could fully concentrate on talking to me. “How come you’re home so early tonight? Not that I’m not overjoyed at seeing my daughter for once but aren’t you usually at your friend’s house? Have the two of you had a falling out?”

Geez, this woman was a lot like my own mother in a lot of cases. First, she wouldn’t let me snack before dinner and now she was asking a million questions about my day. Maybe all mothers had the uncontrollable need to nose around in their children’s business. Maybe it was something hormonal that occurs immediately after giving birth.

“Well, Mom,” I began, trying to act Abby-like. “I guess I kind of had a falling out. I think we’ve just been spending way too much time together lately. Like, it seems as though every little thing is getting on each other’s nerves. It’ll be fine tomorrow, I’m sure.”

She nodded, listening intently. “Well, I hope so. I’m so glad that you made friends so quickly. It seems as though you are fitting in even better than you thought.”

I nodded. Even though she was talking about Abby, I couldn’t help but feel a little proud of myself. Since I’ve been in Abby’s body I’ve been more open with people and had more courage when interacting with strangers. That was a huge deal for an anti-social person like myself.

I grinned to myself as I headed up the stairs to Abby’s room. I couldn’t believe that it was already Wednesday and that I’ve been a girl for four days now. The entire situation still feels utterly surreal to me. Who would have thought a week ago that I’d be in the position I am in now?

I opened the door to the single bedroom and closed the door behind me. Privacy was probably the only luxury I’d been granted while being trapped inside a girl’s body. And while I suppose it was nice for a while, I couldn’t help but feel a little homesick and lonely.

Abby had a pretty decent-sized room. I’m honestly a little unclear on the details of her exact financial situation, but her house wasn’t nearly as humble as she made it seem. Maybe after she calms down a bit I’ll ask her about what’s going on and why she’s so embarrassed over nothing.

From Abby’s desire to keep her home life quiet, one would have thought that she was sleeping on a lumpy, recycled mattress and wearing the same torn, fraying jeans three days a week. Now, I myself have been known to wear the same pair of torn, fraying jeans three times a week but that’s only because I’m severely lazy and mildly disgusting, not because I have nothing else to wear. But no, Abby had a closet full of perfectly fine clothes and a dresser full as well. She had probably about nine or ten different pairs of shoes scattered about in her messy closet as well.

Nope, this girl made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Abby’s room was small, but cute and cozy. Her twin bed was covered by a soft sea green comforter with wavy designs splattered on it. At the head of the bed there were two fluffy sea green pillows and a very worn out, over-snuggled, one-eyed teddy bear with a once pink (it now kind of resembled a pinkish-gray) ribbon around it’s neck resting peacefully against them.

Oh, yeah, Abby’s a badass all right.

I’ve slept in her bed twice so far, and I made sure that every morning I made it identically to the way I had found it. When this whole body-switching ordeal is finally over I just want us both to pick up where we left off in our respective lives. I’m not really sure how leaving her bed intact would help, but it made sense to my poor demented mind in some small demented way.

“ABIGAIL! OLIVIA! DINNER’S READY!” Abby’s mom shouted, from the hallway downstairs. With a deep breath, I left Abby’s sanctuary of a room and tried my best not to dread with a fiery passion the dinner that would soon lay before me. I was suddenly caught off-guard by a stampede of thundering steps.

Olivia, that sweet, charming elephant of a girl, pushed past me so fast that I nearly fell down the entire flight of stairs. Giving the hateful bitch a vengeful glare, I carefully made my way down the rest of the stairs, gripping the handrail for dear life. I suppose when Abby’s sister was hungry heaven help the poor imbecile who got in her way. I would have to think of a worthy punishment for her attempted murder.

Olivia was already spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate by the time I got into the kitchen. Abby’s mom handed me a china plate and I stared down at the meaty-loafy product sitting on the kitchen counter. It seemed as though there was no way out of eating the dreaded loaf.

The evil meatloaf smiled maliciously at my misfortune. He was actually gloating, the spicy bastard, at the fact that I had to eat him. It was as if he was saying, “Ha, ha, Taylor Hanson, you have to eat me!” If he wants man vs. meat, so be it.

“Oh yeah, well you’re not even good enough to have one name!” I muttered, stabbing at the loaf. “Are you meat or are you loaf? Huh? Or will neither category have you, you pathetic excuse for an animal byproduct…”

I felt a hesitant hand on my shoulder. “Abby, sweetie, are you talking to the meatloaf?”

Oh, great, now the meatloaf is laughing at me. That’s right loafy, yuk it up while you still can. I dare you.

I looked at Abby’s mom and smiled sweetly. “Of course not, mother.” I swallowed hard as I set a teeny hunk of meatloaf on my plate far, far away from where the rest of my food would shortly be. I scooped four enormous mountains of mashed potatoes onto my plate and shoved a few servings of broccoli on top. I took my plate to the table and sat down at one of the chairs.

My eyebrow rose as Olivia, who took a hefty helping of meatloaf, poured herself a glass of milk and proceeded to trudge back up the stairs. Now that her children had been fed, Abby’s mom fixed herself a small plate of dinner. She then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a can of diet soda. I frowned as she walked past the kitchen table and sat down on the living room couch, turning on the television.

Here I was, awkwardly enough, sitting at the Deluca kitchen table completely alone at dinner. What kind of family ate dinner completely separated? If I ever dared to turn on the television during supper my mom would have beaten me with the remote. Wasn’t dinnertime supposed to be a time of family togetherness? While I didn’t exactly want to hang out with the family or anything, I felt extremely lonesome eating dinner alone.

“Did you get enough meatloaf, sweetheart?” Abby’s mom asked, peeling her focus from the television set to me. She must have noticed the disdained look in my eye because she suddenly grew concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re sitting in the living room?” I asked, in a confused tone.

Abby’s mom cocked her head to the side with an amused smile on her face. “You’re sitting in the kitchen? Usually you’re too busy having your nose buried in a book to eat at the table. Why are you looking at me like that?”

What the hell is wrong with this family?

“Do you have something against the kitchen table?”

“Why would I have something against the kitchen table?” Abby’s mom asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you acting so peculiar? I eat dinner in front of the TV every night. You know what a huge fan I am of Judge Judy.”

I just shrugged and stabbed at my mashed potatoes.

“Do you want me to come sit by you?”

I shrugged again. “No. I can sit at the table by myself.”

A moment later I heard the chair beside me being pulled out. Abby’s mother was grinning happily at me as she set her plate down beside mine. I could feel myself begin to relax for some strange reason as we ate together in silence. Abby’s mother had the most soothing, serene presence and she reminded me so much of my own mother.

I could feel her eyes on me and I looked at her apprehensively. Her vivid blue eyes had the slight twinkle of tears within them and she was still smiling. I turned so that my whole body was now facing her and put my hand gently on top of hers.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely concerned. I hoped my whole kitchen table spiel hadn’t upset her to the point of tears. All I needed was to make someone’s mother cry to get the coveted Bastard of the Year Award that I was so close to receiving.

“You haven’t asked me to sit with you like this in years,” she began, looking down at her almost empty plate shyly. She didn’t say anything more, but my heart continued to break for her.

Fight as we do, my mother is probably my best friend. Before I started attending a private high school, I think I told her almost everything that was going on in my life. I mean, I never told her about the women or alcohol or anything like that. I might be blond but I’m hardly that stupid! Ever since I was a little boy I’ve always helped her make dinner and even watched soap operas with her on occasion. I couldn’t imagine not eating dinner with her and discussing what was going on in each other’s lives. And I especially thought that girls were more likely to confide in their mothers than boys. Apparently that is not always the case.

“We don’t talk often?” I asked, feeling shame for Abby’s lack of sensitivity.

“Oh, honey, don’t feel bad,” she insisted, brushing a strand of hair behind my ears. “I understand that you’re busy. You have school and friends and everything and I want you to be involved…”

“Mom, you are the very most important person in my life,” I replied, noticing more tears start to well up in her eyes. “Never doubt that, no matter how busy I am. Shame on me for ever making you feel otherwise.”

Abby’s mother dropped her fork and threw her arms around me in a warm hug. It startled me to be held so tightly at first, but I began to enjoy it as I got used to the feeling. It had been so long since I’ve hugged my own mother, and been hugged by my mother. I could feel her melt against me and her head eventually rested on my shoulder. I rubbed her back gently and allowed the woman to hold the daughter she loved.

It seemed as though I had yet one more responsibility to uphold as Abby.