Blake’s bedroom feels like another planet at night.

The door is closed, the light is off except for the faint glow from the streetlamp outside, and everything smells like him. Clean soap, a hint of cologne, and something warm I cannot name. I sit on the floor between the bed and the wall, knees pulled up, trying not to think about how completely insane my life has become.

I am trapped in a six foot tall boy’s body.

I am wearing his shirt.

I am breathing with his lungs.

And across the ...