Prologue

I spat blood out of my mouth and onto the concrete floor. 

I should’ve spit it at my captor, but that would’ve resulted in another blow to my face.

"I’m tired of playing, girl," my captor growled, bending down to grab a handful of my hair. My scalp burned in protest. “Now let’s try this again,” he demanded, looming over me. “Who are you and who sent you?”

Looking up at him, I hesitated for a moment and replied. “Your mom.”

Another fist to my face and I collapsed to the floor. The warehouse was dark and smelled of dust and mildew, a perfect cliché for a low-stakes drug operation gone sideways.

"This is your last chance,” he warned, walking around my curled-up body. ”I don't care if you're working for the police or some rival crew. Tell me. Now!"

A rival crew? Yeah, maybe if the rival crew was The Girl Scouts, and this jackass and his crew were selling cookies. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a Girl Scouts uniform and that’s not flour on the table over there.

This sucks. I’m supposed to be at a graduation ceremony, but instead I’m lying on this cold warehouse floor getting my ass handed to me by some lowlife drug dealers.

Maybe Sophia was right. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Kayla is going to be pissed that I missed her walking across the stage, shaking Headmistress Hathaway’s hand, receiving her diploma, and becoming a full-fledged member of the adult population.

I closed my eyes, trying to find the strength to move. Just a few more minutes, and I could implement my escape plan. I needed to buy time. But first, I needed to survive the next thirty seconds.

* * *

Earlier that Day…

“Which dress should I wear?” my roommate Sophia inquired, holding up two dresses. A white floral one, and a yellow striped one.

“Does it matter?” I responded, looking up from my bed. “You’re not the one graduating.”

“Of course it does, silly. I still want to look cute,” she retorted. “What are you wearing?”

“This,” I said, motioning at my current attire, which was essentially one version of the school uniform. Well, my version of it. Blazer, tie, and chinos. Not very feminine, but that’s me. Not-very-feminine Cate. 

“Uniforms are optional,” she protested. “This is your chance to dress nicely. And show off a little.”

“Soph, how long have you known me?”

“Eight months.”

“And in those eight months, have you ever known me to want to look cute?”

“I call BS. I saw you sneak out of this room in a cute dress for your date with Brittany.”

My face burned red. I didn’t think Sophia noticed me slip out that night. How embarrassing. 

I mean, it’s embarrassing because nine months ago I was Jack Baker, 42 year-old detective. Oh, and male. Very male. I wouldn’t have been caught dead in a dress. Especially not the sexy red one my current girlfriend wanted to see me in that night. 

I’m what’s called a Displaced. You see, while working a missing person's case I encountered a Body Hopper who stole my body and trapped me in the body of one Emma Kincade — the teen girl I was searching for.

But now I’m 15 year-old female Cate Fox. Student at the Puellae Aurora Academy, a boarding school for people like me. People who forcibly had their gender TG’d. 

Sophia, my roommate, was also a dude once upon a time. Well, that’s not entirely true. Sophia was transgender before her transformation. I, on the other hand, want to believe I’m still Jack. No — I am Jack, dammit. Just in this young, petite package.

“You saw no such thing,” I quipped about the red dress my girlfriend insisted she see me in.

“Cate Jacklyn Fox, I know when you’re lying.”

I rolled my eyes at her use of my feminized former name as my middle name. I don’t have a middle name. “Fine,” I huffed. “She wanted to go out to a fancy restaurant for our six-month anniversary. I… humored her.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing Kayla wants to go out to a fancy restaurant tonight, too.”

“Oh? Which one?” I asked. Sophia clearly knew I could be motivated with food.

“Fratellis’.”

I bit my lip and raised my eyebrows. Maybe I could wear a dress for some of Fratellis’ chicken osso buco.

Just then there was a squawk from the police scanner located on my desk. Yeah, I know a police scanner isn’t something a typical PAA student has in her dorm room. It was a birthday present from my best friends — both Sophia and Sam. Something to keep me attached to my old life when I’m feeling like my current life is too much. Like right now.

I turned to the scanner and adjusted the volume. The woman’s voice at the Weatherford Police dispatch spoke, “We have a call from some parents about a missing teen girl. Please send a unit to 467 Oak.”

“Cate?” Sophia interrupted my train of thought.

“Yeah, hold on,” I replied, writing down the address on a scrap piece of paper.

“Wait, no. You’re not really going to go to that are you?”

“There’s a missing person. Do you really expect Weatherford PD to handle it?”

“Um, yeah. That’s kinda their job.”

“Well, that was my job too,” I countered. As Detective Jack Baker, I specialized in finding missing persons. It’s what led me here to PAA.  The school needed help finding a missing girl, and since I was already a TG and in the body of a 14-year old girl, I was enrolled as a Freshman. “I'm the most qualified person. I have twenty years as a missing persons detective. That’s more than the entire Weatherford PD combined.” It also doesn’t help that the Weatherford Sheriff was still brand new and still learning on the job.

“Cate, we didn’t get that scanner for you to become a vigilante. We got it for you because I know how much you’re having a hard time leaving your former life behind.”

“I’m just going to go check it out. I’ll be back in no time.”

“Cate!” Sophia whined. “The graduation starts in a few hours.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Then at least take Sam as backup.”

“I don’t need Sam - or backup.” I looked at her and gave her that patented Jack Baker smile that always makes the girls swoon. Well, used to. When I wasn’t one, too. “I'll be fine. I promise.” Honestly, I just needed a reason to get out of the dorm. I’m suffocating here on campus. I needed a reason to be Jack Baker again. I needed to do detective work on the streets, not dress up like a girl and go to graduation parties.

* * *

Despite wearing a school uniform most days, I had started to accumulate a collection of teen girl’s clothing. That was mostly thanks to Sophia, who dragged me to stores every chance she got.

I learned in my time at PAA that we should not head into town wearing our school uniform. The locals don’t particularly care for us TGs. In the few times I forgot—OK, ignored—this rule, I’d heard almost every transphobic slur known to man hurled at me. What they don’t know is I’ve got a mouth like a sailor too. Those verbal bombs I lobbed back at them surely left their egos bruised.

So I wore a pair of black jeans and black baggy T-shirt and a worn leather jacket I found at a thrift shop. Not exactly inconspicuous, but it was closer to what I used to wear when I was on the job. It made me feel more like Jack Baker, Detective, and less like Cate Fox, high school freshman. 

I set off on foot to the address I wrote down. Obviously, I wished I had a car, but they don’t typically give cars to 15 year-olds. I’d usually borrow Kayla’s car, but she’s a tad occupied with getting ready to graduate and learning the lyrics to Pomp and Circumstance— or at least that Vitamin C song— or whatever song kids these days sing upon getting released from public school.

The address, 467 Oak Street, was on the other side of town and took me a good twenty-five minutes to get there. I arrived at a tidy, suburban home, and rang the doorbell. A woman with a red face and tear-crusted eyes answered.

"Can I help you?" she sobbed, clutching the doorframe.

I needed to play the part of an emotional teen. A task made easier by these raging teen hormones in my current body. “Hi, my name is Cate.” I held back a fake whimper. “I go to school with…”

The woman came out and gave me a very tight hug. “Do you know where Alice is?”

“No,” I replied, hugging her back. “When she didn’t come to school today, I was really worried. I wanted to see if I could help.” 

The woman's face crumpled with relief and fresh despair. I should’ve taken up acting as a career. “Oh, bless your heart, dear. Come in. The police were here, but they just asked a few questions and said they’d ‘put out an alert.’ It’s been hours, and no one is doing anything.”

An exaggeration from an emotional mother. I knew from the police scanner in my room that the police were here just as I left PAA.

She led me into a living room already present with a man pacing nervously. Alice’s father perhaps?

“Tell me everything,” I said, pulling out my notebook and pencil and finding a spot on the edge of an armchair. “When did you last see Alice?” I hope they don't think it weird that their daughter’s classmate is questioning them like this.

“Last night,” Alice’s father explained, stopping his pacing abruptly. “She was in her room. We checked on her before bed around eleven.”

“And this morning?”

“I went in to wake her for school, and she was gone," Alice’s mother choked out. “The window was open.”

“Was anything missing? Did she take things with her?”

“Her backpack was gone,” the mother replied. “Her wallet was on her dresser, but her phone… her phone is off.”

I needed more answers to questions that a real classmate would already know. I decided to skirt around those by pretending to know. “She’s been different lately.”

“Her grades have slipped,” the father replied.

“Did you get into any arguments last night?”

“Alice would never run away,” the mother responded defensively. “She’s a good kid. Sure, she keeps to herself, but don’t all teens nowadays?”

“Does she have any… new friends?”

“Well, she has been going over Jenny’s a lot.”

“Jenny?” I echoed.

“I don’t know her last name. I think she lives in the trailer park on the east end of town. Other side of the train station.”

“Have you seen Jenny?”

“No. We’ve never met her.”

“Literally the other side of the tracks,” I mumbled. “Did you tell the police this?”

“No. They said a person isn’t really missing until 24 hours.”

Typical.

I haven't had the chance to explore Weatherford much since enrolling in PAA. It’s a small town. It has a single train station which I’ve visited once to flee this hellhole. If you asked me what was on the other side of the tracks, I would’ve said, “Nothing.” Lots of nothing as far as the eye can see. Oh, and corn fields. Can’t forget the corn fields.

I glanced at my phone. I was running out of time if I wanted to get to the graduation ceremony. But, I really wanted to solve this case, too. “Thank you for your time,” I said, closing my notebook and getting up. “I know Alice will come home soon.”

So, I had a choice. I could go back to PAA, having successfully stretched my detective legs and leave Alice’s disappearance to the Weatherford PD. Where I would return to my dorm, put on a nice outfit—not a dress—and go see my friend graduate. Or, I could push forward. Be Jack Baker for another hour. Find that missing girl. Save the day.

In my head, the choice was easy. The despair in the eyes of Alice’s parents was a familiar siren song to me. And I had a feeling that the inexperienced police, hindered by the 24-hour rule, would only make finding Alice alive and well, much less likely. I was Jack Baker. And Jack Baker didn't walk away from a solvable case. Hell, it wasn’t even my graduation. I wasn’t ready to hang up my leather coat and notebook.

I left the suburban neighborhood and walked towards where I knew the railway to exist. Weatherford is located in the middle of nowhere Appalachia. It’s surrounded by cornfields and mountains beyond that. It has a single train that was used back in the day to ship TGs to PAA. Now, I suppose it only ships corn. And the occasional passenger that needs to get the hell out of this hick town.

When I arrived at the train station at the edge of town, I looked off in the distance. Sure enough there was a small trailer park. But what really interested me was the warehouse just beyond that.

As I got closer to the dilapidated building, I read the faded sign, “Weatherford Storage.” I wondered what was stored here. This town didn’t have much of an industry outside of PAA and the usual public and retail industries. Corn isn't stored in warehouses. So what could possibly be in here?

The warehouse stood there silently, as wind rustled through the nearby corn field.

I followed a well-worn dirt path that led to a hole in the chain-link fence.

Since it was still midday I stood out like a sore thumb in my all-black attire. I quickly made my way to the outer wall of the warehouse and found a door that was slightly ajar.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I shouldn’t be here. Neither should Alice. Hopefully Alice really was at Jenny’s house. 

I pushed the door open just enough to slide inside. The warehouse interior was vast and dimly lit by streaks of sunlight filtering through grimy windows near the ceiling. A few low-wattage bulbs cast pools of weak, yellow light.

And under the lights, I saw them.

Maybe I should’ve brought backup.

Two men, clustered around a workbench covered with plastic bags of white powder. Who knew Weatherford had this seedy underbelly?

Nearby, passed out on a torn-up couch, was Alice and another teen. A boy.

The door behind me fell shut with a large clang, surprising even me. 

The men looked up towards the source of the sound. Well, there went the element of surprise.

I needed to think of something — fast. “Hey - um - Alice’s mom called. She’s late for school.”

“Who the fuck is she?” I heard one guy ask.

Before I was able to turn and flee, I felt a strong hand grab the back of my leather jacket and pull me further into the warehouse.

“You’re a long way from cheer practice, little girl,” another snickered.

Cheer practice? I would never. I ignored him and looked at Alice. She had a hard time focusing. I recognized the symptoms. She was high as a kite. “Are you OK?” I asked her. “Did they harm you?”

She looked at me, unable to maintain eye contact. “What? I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you didn’t come home. Your parents are concerned.”

“Fuck!” she yelled, sitting up. “Did you follow me here?”

Fuck. I guess this was a runaway situation, not a kidnapping. And she doesn’t look home-sick.

The guy with his hand on my jacket jerked me around to face him. “Does anyone else know we’re here?”

I should’ve said no. But truth, like trust, is earned. “Just the cops. And the evening news.”

Wrong answer. A fist came out of nowhere and made direct contact with my face.

That shit hurt. I hadn’t been punched like that in a long time. Did this asshole really just hit a girl?

I could feel the world spinning from behind my quickly-water-filled eyes. I’m no stranger to getting my nose busted, but this is a first in this body, and a part of me is quickly feeling regret that I’m going to give his body back to its owner with a crooked nose.

“Who are you? Who are you working for?”

“Nobody,” I said, my face red-hot in pain. “I came here by myself.”

I felt him reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my student ID.

“Cate Fox. Pu…Pull…ella A… rora Academy,” he read out loud, butchering the Latin.

“She’s one of those freaks from the freak-school,” Alice laughed scornfully.

“Well, fuck you too, Alice,” I yelled back at her.

“Who are you?” the man repeated, shaking me to show he meant business.

“What, Einstein, was my school ID not explanation enough?”

Another blow to the head. I gotta watch the sarcasm or none of us are going to make it out of here.

The room was spinning faster. Strong arms picked me up and propped me on my knees.

I spat blood out of my mouth and onto the concrete floor. 

I should’ve spit it at my captor, but that would’ve resulted in another blow to my face.

"I’m tired of playing, girl," my captor growled, bending down to grab a handful of my hair. My scalp burned in protest. “Now let’s try this again,” he demanded, looming over me. “Who are you and who sent you?”

The present…

As I tried to catch my breath, I took note of what I was up against: three men in their thirties. One teenage boy. Alice. The teens were high as fuck.

I knew for certain I could take Alice. Even given my current stature and nosebleed. In my old life as Jack, I could probably take two of the men. But all three of them— plus the high teenagers? True, I'm much more agile in this body than I was as Jack. And True, I’ve gotten eight months to get used to it. Plus my daily workouts at the gym. Hopefully it’s enough.

I slowly pushed myself onto one elbow, trying to look pathetic. The leader—the one who kept hitting me, who I mentally dubbed ‘Knuckles’—was circling behind me. The other two henchmen, ‘Tall’ and ‘Short,’ were watching the action from near the workbench. Alice and the teenage boy, who was fidgeting, were still pretty zonked on the couch, but conscious enough to be a problem.

Knuckles stopped, ready to administer another kick. “Time’s up, little freak.”

“Wait,” I wheezed, clutching my ribs. “The cops… they don’t know you’re here. But they are looking for a missing girl.”

Knuckles paused, his boot mid-air. He glanced over at the couch.

“If you flee now, nobody will know. But Alice’s parents did tell the cops she might be visiting Jenny at the trailer park. They’ll be here soon once they’re done questioning her.”

“There is no Jenny,” Alice called out. “I made her up.”

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

Tall and Short looked at each other nervously. “I told you we shouldn't have brought her in,” Tall admonished.

“Nah, man, she’s cool,” the high teenage boy vouched. 

Knuckles scoffed, but a flicker of doubt crossed his face. "Lies. That doesn’t mean they know about the product."

“What if they come in now?” I pointed out. “It won’t just be a missing person. It’ll be kidnapping. Assault. High-level drug possession with the intent to distribute.” I decided not to give these goons any ideas about what other crimes they could commit while they had the upper hand. “You’ll be going away for a long time.” 

“But you won’t be able to tattle,” Knuckles sneered, stepping closer to me. 

I moved.

It was pure instinct, honed over twenty years of detective work, now hampered by a smaller, weaker body, yet more nimble and fueled by adrenaline. I channeled all my weight and momentum into a quick jab into his solar plexus.

Knuckles gasped, doubling over, the air punched out of his lungs.

I may or may not have learned that from Mrs. Barnes’ self-defense class at PAA. 

Before he could recover, I spun, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand and slamming his face hard against my knee, producing a sickening crack. He crumpled instantly, unconscious.

I may or may not have gotten an A in that class.

Tall shouted, reaching for the small, cheap pistol tucked into the back of his jeans.

But I was already moving. I grabbed a heavy metal folding chair that was at the workbench when I arrived and flung it sidearm like a frisbee toward the workbench. Tall dodged and stumbled backward into Short. The chair scattered white powder and plastic bags everywhere.

That’s all I wanted. The chaos of the impact bought me two more precious seconds. I lunged at the workbench, skidding on the scattered drugs, and snatched up a heavy, rusted pipe lying among the tools. Not quite as long as my lacrosse stick, but it’ll be effective.

I didn't give Short time to think. I swung the pipe behind his knee to knock him over. Then I brought the pipe down hard, catching him on the shoulder blade. He yelled and stumbled back, clutching his arm, effectively out of the fight.

Tall, recovering faster, was scrambling to pull his gun free. He had it half-drawn.

"Don’t," I warned, my voice flat, holding the pipe like a baton, ready to strike. The pain in my face and body was a dull roar compared to the focus on survival.

He hesitated, seeing the sheer, unexpected violence in the eyes of the girl he thought was a "freak."

I didn’t wait for him to make the decision. I kicked out low, catching his knee hard. As he pitched forward with a yell, I brought the pipe down on his exposed hand, hearing a satisfying crunch as the pistol flew across the floor.

That was the three men. Now, the teens.

Alice was trying to sit up, her eyes wide, half-drugged and terrified. The boy, still mostly catatonic, slid off the couch.

I pointed the pipe at them. "Stay put. The police are coming. Don’t make this worse for yourselves."

Alice didn't move. The boy was whimpering.

I didn't waste another second. I collected my student ID, ran to the door I’d slipped through, yanked it open, and exploded out into the fading daylight, discarding the pipe as I ran. The warehouse was silent behind me save for the groans of the three men.

I was running toward the railroad tracks, spitting blood onto the dirt path, and shaking white power off my jacket and clothes. Pulling out my cellphone I left an anonymous tip to the police station of drug dealers and the missing girl.

The graduation was going to start any minute. I just hoped Kayla wouldn't be too pissed.

* * *

Lonnie slid off the couch and tried to stand. The crazy freak-school girl was gone. Sirens were heard in the background and they were getting closer.

The three men he associated with were writhing in pain on the floor of the warehouse. Alice was crying on the couch.

As the sirens reached the building and stopped, Lonnie’s fight or flight instinct kicked in and he ran into the shadows of the warehouse and threw himself behind some cardboard boxes just as the door was kicked open by the cops.

“Freeze!” echoed the cop’s command. “Come out and put your hands up.”

Each of the three men were escorted out of the building first.

As someone came to get Alice, she looked back towards Lonnie’s hiding spot. She didn’t say a word.

He regretted letting her get grabbed by the cops, but saw no choice.

When he was alone he inspected his surroundings. He had crushed several boxes in his attempt to hide. Boxes labeled “Fragile” and "Dangerous" along with a symbol of the ‘freak school’ on the side.

It didn’t surprise him. This warehouse was full of old stuff from that school. Boxes of old books and stuff.

Something shiny caught his eye. A box was ripped open, and in the middle of shreds of packing paper, a choker was just lying there drawing his attention.

It had a thin black leather band and in the middle was a golden gem that seemed to glow.

“Take me,” a whisper of a voice called to him.

“Who’s there?” the boy asked, looking around, confused. But no more sound was heard, save for the echo of his own voice.

“Take me,” the voice whispered again.

Lonnie looked back at the choker and the gem glowed. He found himself picking it up without any more thought.

When he realized what he did, he wanted to drop it like it was on fire. Instead he considered that this choker might be of value, so he slid it into his pocket.

* * *

I ran up to my dorm and quickly stripped out of my clothes. I didn’t need to be showing up to the graduation covered in Knuckle’s product.

I felt guilty for ditching Kayla’s graduation for that. So guilty— that I borrowed Sophia’s yellow dress.

When I arrived at the field where the ceremony was being held, it was already over.

I nonchalantly walked over to where my friends were huddled. Sophia, Sam, Lulu, Kayla, and Brett all gawked at me in shock.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked, her voice rising in panic.

“Well, you should see the other guy,” I smirked.

Kayla stepped forward in front of Sam, a stern look on her face. “You better show up looking like you got your ass beat after missing my graduation.”

“I’m sorry Kay. There was something I needed to do.”

I was surprised when Kayla came over and pulled me into a tight hug. My ribs screamed in agony. “Don’t change, Cate.”

When she finally let go she had tears running down her face. “I’m going to miss you all.”

“You’ll just be down the street,” Sophia said, rubbing her own eyes.

“We’ll see. If I don’t have a job, I’m going to have to move back in with my parents.”

Sophia came over to me with her purse and pulled out her makeup compact. “Seriously, Cate, did you not even look in the mirror before you came?”

“Hey, I put on a dress didn't I?” I chuckled through the pain as I twirled around— the breeze on my bare legs reminding me that I feel exposed.

“While it does look cute on you - your face, Cate.” Sophia dabbed my face with makeup which immediately made me flinch.

“Did you at least find the missing person?” she asked, ever hopeful.

“Yeah, I did,” I quietly replied, remorse evident in my voice as I recalled the unexpected turn of events.

“What do you say we all go out for one last dinner before summer break?” Kayla suggested.

“That is why I got dressed up,” I replied, my mood instantly rising. “Fratellis’?”

As the afternoon went on into the evening, my friends seemed to forget about my unfortunate vigilante episode. I was glad too. It represented my worst tendencies. Parts of myself I was unwilling to let go. My desire to be the hero. Thankfully, they focused instead on saying goodbye to Kayla and excitedly chatted about what everyone was doing during summer break.

Speaking of summer break. My plan this summer was to return to this body’s home and just sit and relax. Perhaps maybe I could assist my old police force in finding my original body and Emma Kincade - the girl this one belongs to. A three-month getaway from PAA and being Cate Fox.

I smiled as I pondered my perfect summer plan.

But that’s not what happened.