Chapter One — The Job

James Carter had applied for twelve jobs in three weeks.

Twelve.

He had a spreadsheet.

That was the kind of person James was.

Every application had a date, company, position, hourly wage, estimated hours, and current status. He had color-coded the spreadsheet because apparently engineering students were incapable of doing anything without turning it into a data-management problem.

Unfortunately, the spreadsheet contained a lot of red.

REJECTED.

POSITION FILLED.

NOT SELECTED.

WE’LL KEEP YOUR APPLICATION ON FILE.

That last one pissed him off the most.

“Maybe,” Ashley said from across the apartment, “you’re just applying to the wrong places.”

James stared at his laptop.

“I’m applying everywhere.”

“You’re applying to engineering internships.”

“I’m an engineering student.”

“You’re eighteen.”

“So?”

“So you’re a freshman. Nobody wants to give an eighteen-year-old engineering freshman an internship.”

James frowned.

“I’ve got a three-point-eight.”

“Congratulations.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Ashley walked into the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee. At twenty, she had the irritating confidence of somebody who seemed to have life figured out despite having absolutely no business being that confident.

She slid one mug toward him.

James took it.

“Thanks.”

Ashley leaned against the counter.

“You need a part-time job.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“You could work somewhere normal.”

“I’ve applied to restaurants.”

“Restaurants?”

“Five.”

“Retail?”

“Three.”

“Campus?”

“Four.”

Ashley stared at him.

James stared back.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “You really did make a spreadsheet.”

“I told you.”

“I thought you were exaggerating.”

“I don’t exaggerate.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

James sighed and closed his laptop.

He was eighteen, five-foot-six, and barely 125 pounds. He’d always been slim, but college had made it even more noticeable. He had brown hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and features that his sister had spent years describing as “annoyingly pretty.”

He had never considered himself particularly feminine.

But he knew he didn’t look especially masculine either.

Ashley had pointed that out approximately ten thousand times.

She was twenty, five-foot-six herself, and nearly identical to him in facial structure. The biggest difference was that Ashley was unmistakably feminine.

James was somewhere in between.

It had never bothered him much.

Until now.

Ashley took a sip of coffee.

“So.”

James narrowed his eyes.

“So what?”

“I have an idea.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“I know you.”

“That’s hurtful.”

“It’s accurate.”

Ashley grinned.

“You could work with me.”

James stared at her.

“At Hooters?”

“Yep.”

He laughed.

“That’s your idea?”

“They’re hiring.”

“They’re hiring waitresses.”

“Correct.”

“I’m not a waitress.”

Ashley smiled.

“Not yet.”

James slowly lowered his coffee.

“Ashley.”

“What?”

“No.”

“You haven’t heard the whole idea.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Just hear me out.”

“No.”

“You could do it.”

“No.”

“You already have the face.”

James blinked.

“What the hell does that mean?”

Ashley walked around the counter and stood beside him.

“It means you look like me.”

“That’s not exactly a compliment coming from you.”

“It’s absolutely a compliment.”

She studied his face.

“Seriously, James. Look at us.”

“I have.”

“We’re almost the same height. Same eyes. Same hair color. Same skin tone. Same facial structure.”

“You’re leaving out the obvious difference.”

Ashley shrugged.

“You’d be surprised.”

James laughed.

“You’re suggesting I pretend to be a woman.”

“I’m suggesting you could probably pull it off.”

“At Hooters.”

“At Hooters.”

“Where I would be wearing a uniform.”

“Yes.”

“Serving people.”

“That’s generally what waitresses do.”

“Ashley.”

She started laughing.

“Sorry.”

James shook his head.

“This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Probably.”

She took another sip of coffee.

“But you need a job.”

James looked at his laptop.

Then at Ashley.

Then back at his laptop.

He hated that she had a point.

“How exactly would this work?”

Ashley immediately smiled.

James recognized that smile.

He had made a terrible mistake.

⸻

Two hours later, James stood in front of Ashley’s bedroom mirror.

He was wearing one of her tops.

He hated it.

At least, he told himself he hated it.

Ashley stood behind him, examining his reflection.

“Turn around.”

“No.”

“James.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

He reluctantly turned.

Ashley nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“This could actually work.”

James looked at himself.

The outfit was strange.

Very strange.

He didn’t recognize the person in the mirror.

Ashley grabbed a brush.

“Your hair needs work.”

“My hair is fine.”

“Your hair is extremely boyish.”

“It’s my hair.”

“And you’re trying to look like a girl.”

James sighed.

“This is insane.”

Ashley began brushing his hair.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it is.”

“You’re the one who agreed to try it.”

“I agreed to try clothes. I didn’t agree to become a fucking woman.”

Ashley laughed.

“Nobody’s turning you into anything.”

James looked at her through the mirror.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She paused.

“Although…”

“What?”

Ashley smiled mischievously.

“If this works, I’m calling you ‘bitch.’”

James turned around.

“What?”

“Think about it.”

“No.”

“It’ll be affectionate.”

“It will absolutely not be affectionate.”

“It’ll be funny.”

“It’ll be fucking annoying.”

Ashley grinned.

“Exactly.”

She went back to brushing his hair.

“Bitch.”

James stared at her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“See? It already works.”

“I’m not answering to that.”

“Sure thing, bitch.”

James rolled his eyes.

Ashley laughed.

And despite himself, James smiled.

⸻

The next hour became an experiment.

Ashley showed him how to change his posture.

“Relax your shoulders.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“No, you’re standing like you’re about to deadlift a refrigerator.”

“I don’t stand like that.”

“You absolutely do.”

She gently pushed his shoulders down.

“Again.”

James tried.

“Better.”

She demonstrated how she walked.

James attempted to imitate her.

He immediately felt ridiculous.

Ashley burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I know.”

“Again.”

He tried.

This time Ashley didn’t laugh.

She studied him carefully.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“That was actually pretty good.”

James looked at the mirror.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He tried again.

Something about the movement felt strange, but it wasn’t as difficult as he’d expected.

Ashley noticed.

“You’re getting it.”

James smiled reluctantly.

“Maybe.”

“See?”

She picked up a makeup brush.

“Now we have to fix your face.”

“My face doesn’t need fixing.”

“You know what I mean.”

James watched her gather makeup from her vanity.

Foundation.

Concealer.

Mascara.

Blush.

Lip gloss.

There seemed to be approximately four thousand different products.

“How many things do you put on your face?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether I’m trying to look cute.”

“And today?”

Ashley smiled.

“Today we’re making you convincing.”

James groaned.

“Jesus.”

Ashley laughed.

“Relax.”

⸻

By the time Ashley finished, James barely recognized himself.

His hair was styled differently.

His eyebrows were subtly shaped.

His complexion looked smoother.

His eyes seemed larger.

His features looked softer.

Ashley stepped back.

“Okay.”

James stared at the mirror.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

“Well?” Ashley finally asked.

James swallowed.

“I look…”

“Like what?”

He struggled to find the word.

“Different.”

Ashley smiled.

“Very.”

James turned his head from side to side.

He didn’t look exactly like Ashley.

But he looked enough like her that, from a distance, the resemblance was striking.

Ashley walked beside him and looked at their reflections.

“Okay,” she said. “Now we need a name.”

James laughed nervously.

“A name?”

“You’re not going to introduce yourself as James.”

“I know.”

Ashley thought for a moment.

“Jessica.”

James looked at her.

“Jessica?”

“Jessica Carter.”

He repeated it quietly.

“Jessica Carter.”

Ashley nodded.

“It fits.”

James looked at the mirror again.

The person staring back at him looked nervous.

But she also looked surprisingly natural.

“Jessica,” he said again.

Ashley smiled.

“Nice to meet you.”

James rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Nice to meet you, Jessica.”

He couldn’t help laughing.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Ashley put an arm around his shoulders.

“Maybe.”

Then she grinned.

“Come on, bitch.”

James groaned.

“Ashley!”

She laughed as they headed downstairs.

And neither of them knew it yet, but Jessica Carter was about to become far more than a temporary name.