Biff passed the mashed potatoes to his father.
"So," his mom started. "Are you done with your project yet?"
She was looking at Biff. "Project?" he asked, obviously not knowing what she was talking about.
"Yeah. Your project for the science fair next week."
Science fair? Biff thought, groaning. That's where all the losers and dweebs went. The ones that weren't popular enough to be part of important things, like football.
"Biff?" she asked, pushing for an answer.
"No. I'm not done." The thing was, he didn't know what project he was supposed to be doing, and he really didn't care. He wasn't going to a geek competition.
His father coughed, then asked Wesley about his day, as if Biff's life wasn't all that interesting to talk about. And with that, Biff could agree. It still sickened him that he was stuck in the life of a loser.
"Your father's going to be late again, honey," Jay's mom said to him.
Just the fact that he was coming home at all was amazing. Jay was actually going to meet his father for the first time. Except, in this reality, he had always been around. How was Jay supposed to interact with him if he didn't know anything about him? Suddenly, he felt like meeting his dad was probably not such a good idea after all. At least, not until he found out a little more about him.
"Since it's just you and me tonight, I ordered a pizza."
Jay was used to it just being the two of them.
"Michael? Is there something wrong?"
Mike looked up. His mom looked concerned.
"You're not eating."
"I'm not really that hungry," he said, glancing down briefly at the large serving of lasagna. How could anyone eat all that?
"But you're always hungry. Are you sick?" She stood up and placed her hand on Mike's forehead. "You don't feel warm."
"Mom, I'm okay," he insisted, although really he was about as far from okay as he could get.
She continued to stand there. "Then what's wrong? What's really wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Can I just go back to my room?"
"Okay," she reluctantly said.
It took Mike longer than usual to stand up. But when he did, he waddled back to his bedroom, then broke into tears.
Leonard looked down at his plate with wide eyes. "What's this?"
"Salmon," his dad said.
"I don't think this will be enough," he said. "Why didn't you make lasagna, like you usually do on Thursdays?" he asked his mom.
"Lasagna? I've never made lasagna before. Besides, isn't that a little too fattening?"
"Uh, yeah. Of course," Leonard said, realizing that in this new life he would always eat healthily. No more pasta, burgers, pizza, tacos, or any of his favorite foods. He looked back down at his plate. Salmon. Yuck.
Regardless, though, he was hungry. And he was known for eating anything. Well, actually he didn't eat anything, but that's just what people said, mainly because of his weight problem. His former weight problem.
"Mommy, I want more," Lisa whined.
"In a minute, dear," her mom said, grabbing the bowl of fries and putting some on Lisa's plate.
Now that Lisa was satisfied (for the moment), she turned to Chris. "Are you excited about tomorrow?"
"Huh?" he asked, looking up from the burger he held in his hands.
"The big game?"
At first he thought she was talking about him playing in the football game, but then when he realized that couldn't be (not in this reality), he figured that she meant the marching band that played at the game. The marching band that he was now undoubtedly a part of.
"Yeah," he weakly said.
"You don't sound very excited."
"I am." But he still didn't seem like it.
Chris took another bite out of his burger, trying to forget that any of this was happening. Trying to forget that was now a band geek. A wimpy pasty-skinned band geek.
Out of all the switched guys, Carl was the one that was the most pleased with his "transformation". He couldn't be more thrilled with his current situation. And at the dinner table, he was more than happy to discuss his day with his family, leaving out a few details of course and mainly making up new ones. He had to convince them that he was the same Carl they already knew. Not knowing things about himself in this new reality kind of made that difficult, but he was clever enough to ask the right questions, without looking too foolish. And the answers he got back were very interesting. Like the fact that he had a girlfriend named Cindy. He didn't know anyone by that name at the high school, but that was because she was a college sorority girl. He was dating a sorority girl! This life just seemed to get better and better.
"Randall," his mom said, sitting down at the kitchen table. "You really have to get out of the house more often."
Not looking like this, I won't, Randy thought.
"You're constantly in your room reading those books. How about going to see a movie with your friends?"
"Maybe later," he said. He had no intention of going to see a movie. Although he did have an intention of going out, but only to buy some things at the local Walgreens. Some acne cream and shampoo, for starters. He had a lot to fix.
His mom nodded, then started in on her food.
"So, did you pick someone for your date to prom?" Walter's mom asked him.
"Prom? That's weeks away." It was a school event, otherwise he wouldn't know when it was. Walter had never gone to prom or any of the other dances. He wasn't a very social person.
"Yeah, but remember last year? There were so many girls that wanted to be your date ..."
The concept was new for Walter. Girls shied away from him. And why wouldn't they? He was ugly. Of course, Walter didn't really care. He wasn't interested in dating. The only thing that mattered to him were his sci-fi novels. But he no longer had that life.
His dad punched him in the arm, just like the jocks usually did, but it didn't seem to hurt as much as it used to. "That's my boy," he said, smiling. Apparently, his dad liked the fact that Walter was a major player. Usually parents were against sexual relationships, but his parents seemed to be all for it. The weird thing was that in the normal reality, his parents weren't like that at all. At least, not that he knew. He spent most of his time reading his books. Could it be that there were things about his own family that he didn't even know?
Sitting on his bed, Tom stared at himself in the mirror. I'm such a freak, he thought. How am I supposed to live my life like this?
But then a different part of him spoke. A decidedly new part. Who cares if I'm a freak? It's none of anyone's business but my own. The disturbing thing was that Tom found some truth in that.
A knock at his door pulled his gaze away from the mirror.
"Who is it?"
"Dinner's here." It was his mom.
"I'm not hungry," he said back to her. He just couldn't go out there.
There was no answer and Tom was left alone with his own thoughts for the rest of the night.
