Jon couldn’t stop bouncing in front of the mirror, boots flashing each time his feet hit the floor. His giggles filled the changing room, the kind of carefree, bubbly laugh that didn’t sound like him at all.
Karyn crouched down, eyeing him carefully. “You uh.... You like those, huh?”
Jon nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh! They’re the best. Pinkie Pie makes everything fun!”
He twirled again, skirt hem of the shorts brushing against his legs, pony shirt bright and happy. For a moment, Jon tried to think through his childish fog. *Wait—this isn’t me. I’m Jon. I’m.... not supposed to like this......
But then, just as suddenly, another thought bubbled up, soft and certain, oh right!!? They needed to...!
“After this, Mommy’s taking me to school, right?” Jon asked casually, turning to Karyn with wide, innocent eyes.
Karyn froze. “What did you just say?”
Jon blinked. “School…? You ugghh.... You promised, remember? I don’t wanna be late! Miss Carter gets upset if I’m late"
The words spilled out naturally, images filled his head—desks, crayons, his favorite seat by the window, even the sound of kids laughing at recess. The memory felt real, sharper than any of Jon’s old ones.
Karyn’s stomach tightened. “Jon, listen… that’s not—”
But Jon cut her off with a little stomp of his pink boots, pigtails bouncing. “It is too! Mommy said after shopping we’re going to school. You promised!” His voice rose like the upset little girl he now was, club ching the hem of his Pinkie Pie shirt with both hands and frowning sadly.
“I don’t wanna miss show-and-tell…”
Karyn bit her lip. The longer she stared at him, the less Jon looked like her friend in a six-year-old’s body, and the more he looked like… a real little girl, with her own life, her own memories, and no doubt that she belonged in them. Just how much had that wish done? And why was he calling her mommy?
