Bus Hopper

by Erick S.

The kid was cute. Not dashingly handsome, or particularly well built. But there was something cute about him with his scruff and his piercings. He must have caught me checking him out because he turned away quickly. He was blushing and sort of holding back a grin. Adorable. Of course, the body I was in then was smoking hot. I’d picked it up -- no joke -- outside of a casting call for a modelling agency last week. I’d flipped through his portfolio after I’d hopped into him and aced the casting call -- not that it mattered, since I didn’t plan on staying in him long enough to even attend the call-backs. He was the kind of guy who could be on the cover of mens’ fashion magazines. Sort of flawlessly handsome. Almost too handsome. And when you get a body like that, you kind of get tired of everyone always gawking at you all the time.

When this unassuming kid hopped on the bus with his headphones on and his jacket slung over the strap of his messenger bag, I knew it was just what I was looking for.

I watched him for just a couple moments more. He was watching me, too, out of the corner of his eye. After a few stops, I couldn’t wait anymore, and I didn’t want to risk losing my chance if he got off. So the next time our eyes met, I did it. Like a great exhale, I let go of the body I was in and felt myself flowing into the kid. Up his fingertips and right into his core, and then spreading myself out across his entire body. It takes a lot of focus to project yourself like that, especially when you’re somewhere crowded. There were some times when I’d first started doing this that I’d ended up in the wrong body. And back then, it took me around 12 hours before I could hop again.

So there I was, standing up now in my latest body, looking down at the supermodel, who had a bit of a clouded expression on his handsome face. The cobwebs would clear pretty soon, although the past week would probably seem like a blur to him.

Refocusing and settling into my new body, the first thing I searched for was a name. Chuck Kowal. Cool. Student at Northwestern University, 21 years old. On my way to class. Introduction to Industrial Design Methods. I could feel that he wasn’t very confident about the homework they’d been assigned last night. The music in my headphones was the new Tegan and Sarah album. I’d never heard of them, but Chuck seemed to be a pretty big fan. It’s always fun to suddenly know lyrics to songs you’d never even heard before.

Next stop was where I was getting off. It was the downtown campus, and I’d stop at Starbucks on the way to grab a venti Americano. I patted my messenger bag. American Spirits were in the front pocket. I’d need one after class. I grinned, thinking this could be a pretty chill body to hang out in for a little bit. Of course, I always thought that when I hopped into someone new. Truth is, I never know how long I’ll be in one body before I see another one that catches my eye. Maybe only a couple hours, maybe a couple of weeks. The most I’d ever spent was close to two months. It got uncomfortable. But maybe, just maybe, I’d stay as Chuck for a little bit longer than usual. I hadn’t been in a college kid’s body for a while, and college was always fun.

As I reached my stop, I took one last glance back at the supermodel. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a dude in Chuck’s class who he had a little bit of a thing for, asking if he wanted to meet at the Starbucks and head to class together.

“Sounds great,” I texted back.

I flipped my sunglasses on, readjusted the strap on my messenger bag, and turned up my music. For now, this was my stop.