Hara (KARA), Taecyeon (2PM), Soyou (Sistar)

Day 5995

I wake up thinking about yesterday. The joy is remembering; the pain is in knowing it was yesterday.

                I’m not there. I’m not in Tyler’s bed, not in his body.

                Today I’m Hara. I’ve slept through the alarm, and her mother is mad.

                “Get up!” she yells, shaking my new body. “You have 20 minutes, and then Taecyeon leaves!”

                “Okay, Mom,” I groan.

                “Mom?! If your mother was here, I can’t imagine what she’d say!”

                I quickly access Hara’s mind. Grandmother, then. Mom’s already left for work.

                As I stand in the shower, trying to remind myself I have to make it a quick one, I lose myself a minute in thoughts of Jessica. I’m sure I dreamt of her. I wonder: If I started dreaming in Tyler’s body, did he continue the dream? Will he wake up thinking sweetly of her?

                Or is that just another kind of dream on my part?

                “Hara! Come on!”

                I got out of the shower, dry off, and get dressed quickly. Hara is not, I can tell, a particularly popular girl. The few photos of friends she has around seem half-hearted, and her clothing choices are more like a thirteen-year-old’s than a sixteen-year-old’s.

                I head into the kitchen and the grandmother glares at me.

                “Don’t forget your clarinet,” she warns.

                “I won’t,” I mumble.

                There’s a boy at the table giving me an evil look. Her brother, I assume – and then confirm it. Taecyeon. A senior. My ride to school.

                I’ve gotten very used to the fact that most mornings in most homes are exactly the same. Stumbling out of the bed. Stumbling into the shower. Mumbling over the breakfast table. Or, if the parents are asleep, the tiptoe out of the house. The only way to keep it interesting is to look for the variations.

                This morning’s variations comes care of Taecyeon, who lights up a joint the minute we get into the car. I’m assuming this is part of his morning routine, so I make sure Hara doesn’t seem as surprised as I am.

                Still, Taecyeon hazards a ‘Don’t say a word’ about 3 minutes into the ride. I stare out the window. 2 minutes later, he says, “Look, I don’t need your judgement, okay?” The joint is done by then; it doesn’t make him any mellower.

I prefer to be an only child. In the long term, I can see how siblings could be helpful in life – someone to share family secrets with, someone of your own generation who knows if your memories are right or not, someone who sees you at 8 and 18 and 48 all at once, and doesn’t mind. I understand that. But in short term, siblings are at best a hassle and at worst a terror.

                The best I can hope for is a quiet sibling. At first I have Taecyeon pegged as one of those. In the car, it appears I’m wrong. But then, once we get out at school, it appears I’m right again. With the other kids around, he retreats i