The Switch [COMPLETED]

Chapter 30

Paisley Monroe:

Asher was being weird. Like...weirder than usual. 

It had started that morning when he had woken me up by punching the bottom of my bunk and yelling at me about my hair. Then, after breakfast, I had made a comment about making sure we got to the conference center on time and he had mimicked me in a high-pitched voice complete with a snarky scowl. The cherry on top, however, came when we had finally gotten to the conference center and were waiting in line to buy our entrance passes. 

We were almost to the front of the line when I had started getting apprehensive. Were we sure this was the right guy? Would he change us back? What if we were wrong and he had nothing to do with this after all? What if we were stuck this way forever?

"I really, really hope this works," I had mumbled nervously, fiddling with the zipper on my sweatshirt. Asher had made sure that I was dressed in as casual an outfit as possible complete with dark black sunglasses and a baseball cap over his trademark curls. Tucker had also come with us, so he was dressed similarly in a slouchy beanie and oversized aviators. Leo had seemed wary of letting Tucker tag along, but he was the only boy who didn't have private rehearsals that morning. 

"It'll work, dude," Tucker had said confidently, slapping me on the shoulder. "I feel it."

"Mm," was all Asher had said in reply. He was standing next to me with his arms crossed and his mouth set in a solid line. 

"Okay, seriously...are you okay?" I had asked him for the hundredth time that morning. I had somewhat gotten used to his bizarre mood swings, but this one was definitely taking the cake. It had lasted all of the previous night and all of this morning, and I was getting tired of it. I had thought that we had had a pretty solid "moment" when he had been telling me about his ex-girlfriend, but apparently any closeness I had hoped to achieve from the intimate conversation was entirely one-sided. 

"Dude, I'm fine," he had snapped, glaring at me. "Quit asking me."

I had tried to stay calm, but I couldn't help the quick retort that flew out of my mouth at his sour attitude. 

"Ugh, why are you being such a jerk?" I hissed angrily. "I can't wait to get my body back and get out of here," I mumbled as an afterthought. 

Asher had noticeably stiffened beside me, his shoulders becoming rigid under the thin hoodie he was wearing. 

"And go where?" he had quipped sarcastically. "Have you even thought this through at all? You have nowhere to go, Paisley Monroe," he said sarcastically, drawing out each syllable of my name. "Without my help, you're nothing."

The line was moving up a bit, but I had stayed rooted to the spot, completely stunned. Where had all of this come from? The comment had hurt, of course, but my hurt had been overshadowed by anger.

"I don't need your help!" I had spat, glaring down at Asher. "And I don't know where I'm going, but anywhere is better than here with you and your egotistical PMS mood swings!"

Asher had said nothing, choosing only to spin on his heel and walk forward a few steps so that his back was to me, where he stood stiff as a board and ignored me for the rest of the hour like a moody kid. 

Now, Tucker, Asher and I were sitting on uncomfortable metal folding chairs in a stuffy auditorium filled with balding men and disheveled women who all reeked of midlife crisis. We were the only three under 40, and I was slightly more comfortable when I realized that the chances of me and Tucker being recognized amongst this crowd were slim to none. 

"How are we going to get to him after the conference?" I whispered to Tucker, wringing the slim paper program that had been handed to us at the door in my hands.