It was supposed to be a normal Monday afternoon. Or at least as normal as life could be when I was stuck inside Blake Thorton’s body, pretending I understood even half of how he walked, talked, or survived daily chaos. School was finally done. Blake and I had exchanged our usual quick end of day check in through text. He promised to help me later with math and I promised to remind him how to braid hair without pulling his scalp off.

By the time I got to the Thorton house, I was exhausted. Mrs ...