Yes (4 page)

Ian blinked and snapped back to reality. He stared at the mirror again but didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. He reached out and touched the glass with his soapy finger. It wasn’t just that he looked twenty pounds lighter…. He tilted his head forward and checked out his scalp. Where did that come from? He carefully pinched the bottom edge of his white T-shirt, lifted it up, and gasped at the flatness of his stomach. “What the fuck?” Ian let the T-shirt drop and spun around, as if he expected to find someone standing behind him. As the gravity of the situation dawned on him, Ian shook his head. No way. Things like this didn’t happen in real life. He turned back to the basin and rinsed off his hands. He splashed some water on his face, rubbed his eyes, and checked the mirror again. He touched his cheekbones and scowled. His beard made him look like a hipster.

This could change everything
.

“Don’t panic,” he said to his reflection.

Ian dried his hands and pressed them against the mirror to make sure it wasn’t some kind of trick. No one could pull that off. Not on a commercial airline, at least. He poked around the corners near the ceiling and looked for a hidden camera. No, he had to be hallucinating, except he didn’t feel stoned at all. Or was he so stoned that he didn’t even realize how stoned he was? Then again, if this wasn’t a hallucination—if it was really happening—that would explain why the young woman in the aisle mistook him for a student. Unless maybe she was part of the hallucination too.

Was he even on an airplane
?

Ian lowered the lid of the toilet, sat down, and pulled his knees to his chest. It couldn’t be a trick and it couldn’t be real. Even though he didn’t feel stoned, this had to be the effects of Manick Butter. His visions in the mirror and his conversation with the young woman were all part of a wild trip. He must have imagined her. No other logical explanation existed. He cursed his decision to eat the kiss before boarding a plane, but at the same time, he wasn’t a novice at this kind of thing. Ian remembered the night he did too much GHB at a bathhouse in Fort Lauderdale, and another night he did too much ketamine at a circuit party in Houston. He looked around the compact bathroom. He felt comfortable enough. Maybe he could stay here for the rest of the flight and ride it out.

Someone knocked on the door and said, “Excuse me?”

Ian pulled his knees in closer. The voice belonged to the young woman waiting after him, which meant he hadn’t imagined her. “Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine,” Ian said. “I’m sorry. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Thank you. I really need to pee bad.”

He couldn’t stay in the bathroom any longer. It would only create a scene and draw attention, two things Ian needed to avoid. Despite his uncertainty, he eased his legs forward and stood up. He washed his hands again and tried to avoid looking at himself in the mirror. He had no idea how to proceed. “You can get through this,” Ian told himself, but he needed an anchor.

Mark.

He had to keep it together for sixty seconds and get back to his seat next to Mark. Then everything would be okay. Ian dried his hands and took a deep breath. He opened the door and practically knocked over the young woman waiting in line. He apologized and hurried past her down the aisle. He took his seat next to Mark, shook him, and lifted his sleep mask.

“Wake up,” Ian said. “I’m having a really bad trip.”

Mark opened his eyes and recoiled. “What the fuck, man? Who in the hell are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Mark shook off his nap and looked around. “You must have overshot your row or something. Someone else is sitting there. What’s your seat number? Do you have your boarding pass?”

“It’s me. Ian.”

“Ian?” Mark glanced up and down the aisle. “Okay. If you say so. There’s no point in getting into an argument about it.” With a look of subdued terror on his face, Mark reached up and pushed the flight attendant button.

“What are you doing?” Ian said. “Don’t you recognize me? I thought I was hallucinating. Tell me I’m hallucinating.”

Mark removed the pillow from around his neck and swiped off his mask. “Let’s let the flight attendant handle this, okay? I don’t want any trouble. Please, whatever you’re doing, you don’t have to go through with it. Think about prison at your age. Have you ever seen
Turned Out
? Or
Oz
? Sure, I know it looks hot when it’s Chris Meloni, but this isn’t fiction, young man. You’re on a real plane, and I’m a real person. These things have consequences, and there’s no point in ruining your life before it’s even begun. I’m sure your cause—whatever it is, religious or otherwise—I’m sure it’s a worthy one. Have you been wronged by the American political system? Well, take a number and get in line. But you have to ask yourself, is this kind of criminal behavior worth what comes after? Have you thought about being thrown into solitary confinement? Because you seem to have anger issues. I know I just met you, but it doesn’t take a degree in psychology to figure that out. It makes me wonder, have you asked yourself the hard questions? We always have options.”

“Mark, it’s me. Can’t…? Look, I’m wearing Ian’s clothes.”

“And that’s supposed to convince me? You’re wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt. If they belong to Ian, then what have you done with him? What’s your angle here, kid? Why do you insist on pretending you’re Ian Parker?”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Then prove it,” Mark said.

“I can… I can tell you things I know about you, like your favorite TV show is
RuPaul’s Drag Race
. You’re obsessed with Robbie Rogers, which I totally don’t get. And you have a dog named Kitty.”

“Practically anyone who follows me on Instagram could know those things. Have you been stalking me? Does this involve sexual blackmail? Because let me tell you right now, I—”

“We met at Jester Hall twenty-two years ago. You live on West Thirty-Ninth Street between Avenue B and Avenue C. You used to have a boyfriend named Troy, but I called him Sparky for no other reason than I thought it suited him better than Troy.”

Mark paused, and it looked like maybe Ian had convinced him. But then Mark shook his head and said, “Still not conclusive. Are you al-Qaeda? Or maybe NSA? It’s so hard to tell the difference these days. Or a spy? No, you’re too young to be a spy. What am I saying? They have spies who are kids now. There’s a whole movie franchise built around them. What have you done with my friend? Did you lock him in the bathroom? Is that what you did? Because if you’ve hurt him in any way, I swear I’ll—”

“I am your friend. Why can’t you look at me and see that?” Ian glanced down the aisle and saw a female flight attendant heading their way. He had to think of something fast. He turned to Mark and whispered, “Okay. I didn’t want to go there, but could practically anyone else know you have a thing for twincest porn? Maybe Elijah and Milo Peters? Or the two brothers from Brazil?”

Mark’s jaw dropped.

“I thought that would do the trick.”

The flight attendant appeared next to their seats. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

Mark looked at Ian and then at her. “I’m sorry. I must have hit the wrong button. I meant to turn on the reading light.”

“That’s not a problem,” she said cheerfully. “It happens all the time.” She turned on Mark’s light and then walked away toward the front of the cabin.

Mark reached out and touched Ian’s face. “Am I dreaming?”

“I don’t think so,” Ian said as he slapped Mark’s hand away. “Stop touching my face.”

“Look at me.”

Ian turned and stared at his friend. They gazed into each other’s eyes for several moments and then started laughing.

“Oh my God,” Mark said. “It really is you. How is that even—?”

“Do I look like I did in college? I mean, am I actually young again?”

Mark nodded.

“I went to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. I thought it must be the Manick Butter kiss—that I was hallucinating. But if you see it too, then I don’t know what’s going on. Mark, I’m scared. What if none of this is real? What if I’m on some kind of extreme
Jacob’s Ladder
trip? Then again, what if it
is
real, like a quirk of the universe or something?”

“Why would it be happening to you now?”

Ian remembered his birthday wish, but instead of telling Mark about it, he answered, “I don’t know.”

“Well, we can’t be sure that anything is happening until we get home.”

“What are you talking about?”

They were interrupted by the voice of the pilot. “Hello, folks. We’ve begun our descent into Austin, and it looks like we’ll be pulling into the gate about ten minutes ahead of schedule. The weather report shows sunny skies with a temperature of seventy-eight degrees. We want to thank you for flying United today—we know you have a choice. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for arrival. We’ll be on the ground shortly.”

Mark pulled his messenger bag from underneath the seat in front of him and packed away his pillow and mask. “Let’s stay calm and not make a scene. There’s got to be a logical explanation for this. Once we land, we’ll go back to your house and do a test.”

“What kind of test?”

“Shush. Lower your voice. If anyone finds out about this, you’ll be dragged off screaming to some laboratory in Virginia. Don’t say anything more until we get back to your place.”

“But—”

“Silence,” Mark said. “I need to concentrate.”

Ian extended his arms. “Would you look at my skin? There are no age spots, and those droopy little blobs around my elbows are gone.”

CHAPTER THREE

T
HE
PLANE
landed in Austin, and they caught a shuttle bus to Mark’s car. He drove them to Ian’s house in silence, and they went inside. Ian parked his luggage in the hallway next to the door and then led Mark into the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? Or smoke?”

“No, thanks. I’ll be right back.”

Ian got two bottles of water from the fridge and sat on one of the stools next to the kitchen island. Mark returned from the living room with Ian’s antique copy of
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
, by Lewis Carroll.

“Really?” Ian said. “Don’t you think the comparison is a little heavy-handed?”

“That’s not what this is about. It just happened to be the first book I grabbed. I want you to read it.”

“Now?”

“Out loud,” Mark replied. “This is the test I was talking about. Read a couple of sentences.”

“Why?”

“I saw it on
Teen Wolf
. Stiles said you can’t read when you’re dreaming. We need to eliminate the possibility that this is a hallucination.”

“So that’s your first move? You’re taking a cue from an MTV show about werewolves? What happened to a logical explanation?”

“Just read, please.”

Mark handed the book to Ian, and he opened it. “Holy shit. I don’t even need glasses for this.” Then he read out loud, “‘I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,’ said Alice a little timidly, ‘but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’”

Mark grabbed the book and skimmed over the page. “You did it. This isn’t a dream, Ian. Or a hallucination.”

“So it’s real. Then what’s the next step?”

“We need pictures.”

“Why?”

“To figure out how old you are. Where are your pre-phone photographs?”

“In the guest room closet. There’s a shoe box full. But I didn’t have a beard back then.”

“Then I’ll have to imagine you without one.”

Ian retrieved the box and spilled the photos onto the kitchen countertop. Mark rummaged through the pile and occasionally held one up to compare it to Ian’s face. Finally he found a match. “I took this at my twenty-second birthday party.”

“Which means I was twenty-one,” Ian said.

Mark looked him over carefully. “Your hair’s the same—everything except the beard. You’re twenty pounds lighter, just like you were back then.” Mark stared in disbelief. “It had to be the kiss. Manick Butter isn’t a high. You’re literally half your age. It’s like that movie
Big
—only gay and in reverse.”

“What?”

“You know. The one with Tom Hanks, about a boy who becomes a man overnight. Then there’s
13 Going on 30
, about a girl who becomes Jennifer Garner overnight. Although technically that’s a time-travel story, because everyone else around her grows up too.”

“Are you saying I’m trapped in a body-swap comedy?”

“No. This is different from
Freaky Friday
. There’s no swapping going on here. You’re still you.”

“But
Big
and
13 Going on 30
are about people getting older. Does it ever go in the other direction?”

“
17 Again
.”

“Ah, the one with Matthew Perry.”

“Chandler Bing himself,” Mark said. “Thirty-seven-year-old Mike O’Donnell makes a wish with a mysterious high school janitor. Later that night, when he’s driving home, Mike sees the janitor about to jump off a bridge. Mike tries to save him, but then the janitor disappears and Mike falls into the river, where he’s magically transformed into a teenager who looks like Zac Efron.”

“I never bought that part. Not the ‘Mike becoming seventeen again.’ I had no problems with that. But there is no universe in which Matthew Perry ever looked like Zac Efron.” Ian put his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this. Then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“What are you talking about?” Mark asked.

“You said Mike O’Donnell made a wish. Well, so did I. On my birthday cupcake. I wished that I could go back and do it all over again, and now this is my chance. I put myself out there. I took the plunge and bought the kiss, and look what happened.”

“We should call the store and report it.”

“Why?” Ian protested. “Aren’t you listening to me? I did this. Me and Mrs. Brown. What are we going to report? That my wish came true? That Tad should have charged me a million bucks instead of a measly hundred?”