Randy stared at his reflection, not believing what he was seeing. He knew he was different since the switch, but this was the first time that he himself saw the changes, the differences.
Greasy (but combed) hair, acne-filled skin, thick glasses, and braces. He wore a white short-sleeved collared shirt underneath an olive-green sweater vest, and a pair of beige corduroy pants.
It was a nightmare. His sexy physique and stylish clothes were gone, replaced by this disgusting body and pathetic wardrobe. The first chance he had, he was going to buy better clothes. If not, people would think he was a dweeb.
He looked around his room, taking his eyes off of himself for the first time since he got home (and he was glad to). His weights were replaced by a computer workstation. All of his sports posters were gone, replaced by framed photos of notable authors (such as Ray Bradbury and Philip K. Dick). And all of his athletic magazines were replaced by books, all of them science fiction, by the look of it. It seemed he was supposed to really be into sci-fi (or more specifically, sci-fi novels).
Randy hated all that science fiction and fantasy stuff. It was all just for kids and had no place in his life of football and girls. He had grown up.
Although, in this new reality, it seemed that he hadn't. No way would he ever be able to play football in his current condition, and no girl would ever want to date him, looking as he did.
"Randall! Dinner's ready," his mom shouted from the kitchen.
Did she just call me Randall? he thought. Technically, that was his name, but he was always called Randy. The name Randall seemed too ... dorky.
The contrast of Walter's new bedroom, compared to his old one, nearly sent him into shock. He had just gotten over the fact that he was physically different than normal (and that took a lot of doing), but now he was discovering that it wasn't just himself that had changed, but everything else about him as well. Part of him was fascinated by all of this, as it reminded him of a sci-fi book he had once read. But this wasn't fantasy. This was real. This was his life that had changed. And as far as he could tell, it had changed forever.
He was no longer ugly (although, really, he had no interest in his appearance before, so he didn't care if he was ugly or not) and from a few photos around his bedroom, he figured that he was most likely dating.
Dating.
He had never been out with a girl in his life. Well, except for Kyla. But that wasn't a date. Just the thought of being with a girl made him frightened. He wasn't scared of girls, of course, but he was scared about what to do with one. He didn't know the first thing about dating. He had spent most of his life reading books. His books were his world. And now all of that was gone.
He knew Randy Goodman's reputation. He was a major player in the world of dating, right up there with Steve Farber. Was Walter expected to be the same? How was he supposed to do that?
Seeing that he could never be like Randy, Walter decided to leave that part of his new life alone. Maybe if he ignored it, he wouldn't have to deal with it. Of course, that was how he dealt with a lot of things.
"Walter! Dinner's ready," his mom called out to him from down the hall. Walter sighed, then left his room.
