Chapter 5 I AM CASEY?

EHAN.

I let out a loud groan, every muscle protesting as I attempted to move.

What the hell? Pain pulsed through my back, head, and legs. Did that oversized clown actually fall on me?

My head buzzed with various sounds bombarding my ears. Beeping machines. Groans and cries coming from all sides.

I managed to open my eyes, squinting against the bright lights. It certainly looked like a hospital, but what on earth was going on?

Curtains hung around the beds, and people were packed in tightly. It was nothing like the private suites my dad always got me, with large windows and quiet nurses. This place was loud and chaotic.

The heat pressed down on me, thick and oppressive.

 Was there really no air conditioning in this shithole?

I slowly sat up, my head pounding. Every part of me ached. That fat nerd probably did this on purpose.

A nurse rushed over, curtains swishing as she pushed through. She looked wrecked—bags under her eyes, hair messy, uniform wrinkled. Not the pretty, smiling ones who usually fluttered around me at the good clinics. She didn't even ask. Just started touching me, poking at my arms, checking the machines, adjusting some tube thing.

"Easy there," she muttered, her voice tired. "Vitals look stable, but you took a hard fall."

Then I noticed the awful smell—medicine, chemicals, urine—all blended together. It churned my stomach.

 People groaned louder around us. Some old guy behind the next curtain whimpered, "It hurts... nurse, please..."

Another voice cried out, "I can't feel my legs!" The beeps never stopped. What the actual hell?

I watched her in confusion, pulling away from her hands. Where were my friends?

Ivy?

The team?

How could they leave me alone in this hellhole?

This is bullshit.

I sighed, rubbing my temple.

I probably missed practice. Coach was gonna ride my ass.

The nurse finally looked at me properly, her eyes softening a bit. "Miss Bell, how are you feeling? Any dizziness? Pain in your neck or back?"

Miss Bell?

I furrowed my brow, staring at her. "Miss Bell? What the hell are you talking about? Who do you think—"

I froze at the sound of thin, high-pitched, feminine voice echoing in my ear.

It sounded like that nerd's voice.

 "What the...?" I tried again.

I clamped my mouth immediately, my heart slamming in my chest.

No.

No fucking way.

I lifted my hands fast, staring at them. Chubby fingers, short and stubby, nails bitten down.

Not my hands.

Not my strong, callused ones from gripping sticks and weights.

"What the fuck is this?" I screamed, the girly voice resounding.

I pulled the thin blanket, scrambling out of the bed, my legs shaky and weak. The floor was cold under my bare feet.

People around groaned louder at the noise. "Quiet down!" someone yelled from behind a curtain. "Some of us are dying here!"

"Shut the fuck up!" I snapped back.

I glanced at the old tattered phone on the bedside table—cracked screen, cheap case, nothing.

I couldn't even bare to touch that thing.

I shoved the curtain aside and stumbled out into the open ward, dodging a rolling cart and nearly tripping over some wires.

"Where's a mirror? There has to be one in this dump." I pushed past a slow-walking patient, ignoring their complaints. My body felt heavy, off-balance.

Ears ringing, I spotted a bathroom area down the hall and bolted for it.

I burst through the door, the fluorescent lights buzzing, and stopped dead in front of the first mirror.

My scream tore out loud and raw, echoing off the tiles.

"What the heck is this?"

I leaned closer, hands—her hands—gripping the sink. Same glasses, same plain face, same messy hair. Those eyes wide with panic that matched the terror twisting in my gut. I touched the cheek, and the reflection did the same.

"No. This isn't real. Wake up, Ethan. This is some coma dream or drugs they gave me. That bitch fell on me and now... what?"

I slapped my face—her face—hard. It stung. "Come on! Change back!" The voice was hers, every word.

I hated it.

The nurse came rushing in after me, looking frazzled. "Miss Bell! You shouldn't be up yet. The doctor needs to check you after that fall. You landed hard on that boy from school."

"That boy? That's me! I'm Ethan Blake!" I spun on her, jabbing a short finger at my reflection. "Look at this! This isn't me. Fix it! Get me out of this body. Call my parents. Call Ivy. Now!"

She blinked slowly. I probably sounded crazy. "Miss Bell, you've had a traumatic incident. Jumping from the roof... it's normal to feel confused. But you're safe now. Let's get you back to bed."

"Confused? I'm not confused, I'm trapped!" I yelled, the feminine pitch making it sound pathetic even to me. "That loser Casey did this. She cursed me or something."

Other patients in the hall were staring now, murmuring. A guy with an IV drip chuckled weakly. "Poor girl lost her mind."

"Shut your mouth!" I snapped at him, but it came out squeaky. I turned back to the mirror, tugging at the hospital gown. Everything felt wrong—the softness, the way my center of gravity sat lower. "Ivy? Where's Ivy? Get her here now!"

The nurse tried to grab my arm gently. "Miss Bell, please. Your parents are on the way. We called them after the incident. You need rest. That head bump was serious."

"Parents? My parents?" I laughed, but it sounded like a sob. "They'll make you pay for thus."

"I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Bell—"

"Her parents? You called her parents?" I threw my hand in the air with disbelief. "I don't want her life. I have games. Scholarships. Everything. She has nothing. This can't be happening." I paced in front of the mirror, short legs moving awkwardly.

The nurse just shook her head. "We'll get you something to calm down. Try to breathe, Miss Bell."

"Stop calling me that!" I screamed again, staring at the reflection.

How the fuck did I end up in Casey Bell's body?