Chapter 6: Back to Reality—And to Him

He was right. If this was enough, we’d already be home. Something was missing.

I sighed, feeling the weight of it. Maybe we were missing the point.

So what now? Was it back to me?

Alex nodded. “Looks like it.”

He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. We were both running out of ideas.

I sighed. “Guess we’re retiring here.”

I slumped onto a bench, oddly at peace with the idea. Maple Heights wasn’t so bad, all things considered.

When we left, the guy from before barely recognized Alex. Turns out, once Alex covered his face, people forgot him. It was all just surface-level crushes—nothing real.

It was like magic—the second the mask went on, people’s eyes glazed over. I even tested it with the barista. Nothing. Like Alex was invisible.

I explained, and Alex looked relieved. “Good. I’d feel guilty otherwise.”

He smiled, finally relaxing. I ruffled his hair, feeling a little lighter.

Now what? Only one option left.

I dug through my closet, determined to try one last thing. Desperation breeds creativity, right?

I pulled out a wig. “I have to cross-dress as a guy.”

I held it up, grinning. Alex’s jaw dropped to the floor.

Alex gave me a thumbs-up. “Impressive.”

He adjusted the wig for me, fussing over every strand. "You look great," he said, grinning like a proud parent.

With the wig and men’s clothes, I actually passed. Suddenly, people could see me. The world shifted.

I checked my reflection in a car window—short hair, baggy jeans, hoodie. I looked like someone’s little brother. It worked. I was visible.

We went to the park. A border collie ran up, tail wagging. I knelt to pet it. The owner—a cute guy—came over, apologizing. I shot Alex a look: Should I go for it, try to snag this guy?

Alex made a face, clearly unimpressed. I shrugged, rolling my eyes. Not his type, apparently.

Alex frowned at the dog. “Why is it so dirty?”

He wrinkled his nose, stepping back. The owner blushed, mumbling an apology, clearly embarrassed.

The owner looked mortified, the dog drooped, and I felt a pang of guilt for the awkwardness.

The poor pup slunk behind his owner, tail between his legs. I felt bad for both of them.

I tried to smooth things over. “He means lively! Hahaha…” My laugh was a little too loud.

I scratched the dog behind the ears, desperate to salvage the moment.

Alex pinched his nose. “Why does it smell?”

He looked genuinely offended. I nudged him, mouthing, "Stop." This was not helping.

I dragged him away. “Are you nuts? The dog peed on your shoe, didn’t it?”

I pointed at his sneaker, which was definitely damp. He grimaced, resigned.

He nodded. “It’s fine, I’ll clean it.”

He wiped his shoe on the grass, face scrunched up like he’d just eaten a lemon.

I ruffled his hair. “Let’s get out of here.”

He smiled, finally relaxing. We headed toward the coffee shop, ready for a do-over.

Now that I was visible, even the barista at the coffee shop smiled at me. I got his number—he was adorable, all sunshine, freckles, and the kind of dimples that could make you believe in love at first sight.

He doodled a little heart on my cup. I blushed, tucking the napkin with his number into my pocket, feeling like a middle schooler.

I went back to Alex, waving the napkin like a trophy. “See? I still got it.”

I waved the napkin like I’d just won the lottery. Alex rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his smile.

He shrugged, chugging his latte, pretending not to care.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking unimpressed, but I knew better.

“What next? Gonna ask him out?”

He raised an eyebrow, daring me to go for it.

I sipped my drink. “I’ll wait till he’s off work, then dinner.”

I checked the time, trying to act casual. Cool as a cucumber.

“Pizza again?” he asked, smirking.

He nudged me, grinning like a troublemaker.

“Nope.”

I stuck my tongue out. "I have standards."

He smirked, clearly entertained by my antics.

He leaned back, arms crossed, enjoying the show.

I waited hours. The barista finally clocked out, looking a little nervous. “Sorry, hope you weren’t waiting long.”

He looked sheepish, running a hand through his hair. I smiled, brushing it off like it was no big deal.

“Not at all,” I lied. For the mission, I could wait forever. Anything for a way home.

I’d have waited all night if I had to. The app in my head was, for once, completely silent.

Meanwhile, Alex called four times—door code, pajamas, Netflix password, hungry. I grumbled, but Venmo’d him enough for takeout.

My phone buzzed nonstop. I finally put it on silent, but guilt gnawed at me. I sent him a pizza emoji as a peace offering.

Barista asked what I wanted for dinner. I said, “Anything.”

I smiled, letting him choose. He looked thoughtful for a second, then grinned.

He chose—pizza.

I nearly laughed out loud. Some things never change, do they?

At the pizzeria, he gave me his jacket, mixed up a custom dipping sauce for me, and when I burned my hand on the cheese, he fussed over me, blowing on my fingers like it would help.

He was sweet, attentive, the perfect date. I almost forgot why I was really there. Almost.

The vibe was getting flirty when my phone rang—Alex, of course.

I groaned, apologizing to the barista. He waved it off, smiling like he’d seen it all before.

He begged, “I watched a horror movie. I’m scared. Come home?”

His voice was tiny, almost like a kid’s. I felt a stab of guilt right in my chest.

“I’m on a date, dude.”

I whispered, covering the phone. The barista looked amused, like he was in on the joke.

“Then I’ll come to you!”

He sounded determined. My heart skipped. Oh no.

“No! If you show up, my work’s wasted.”

I hissed, praying he’d stay put.

He sulked. “Come home soon.”

He hung up, and I slumped, shoulders heavy.

Back at dinner, I was distracted. Barista noticed. “If you need to go, it’s fine.”

He smiled, understanding. I promised to make it up to him next time. Rain check.

He called a car for me. I promised to make it up to him with a movie night soon.

He waved as I left, jacket draped over my shoulders. I felt oddly empty, like I’d left something behind.

When I got home, Alex was sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty soda bottles, looking like he’d just lost a battle.

He looked like he’d been through a war zone. I kicked off my shoes, bracing myself for a lecture.

“You drank?”

I eyed the bottles, raising an eyebrow. Classic Alex.

He looked at me, eyes watery. “You’re back?”

He sounded so relieved, I almost forgot to be annoyed at him.

“Yeah, you called five times. My first date’s ruined. When are we ever leaving?” I ripped off my wig, tossing it aside.

I tossed it on the coffee table, flopping down beside him with a huff.

He still held my wrist. “Why aren’t you wearing slippers?”

He looked genuinely worried. I blinked, caught totally off guard by the concern.

“What? Is that a crime?”

I wiggled my toes, suddenly self-conscious and oddly touched.

He fetched my slippers, knelt on the floor, and gently slid them onto my feet like I was Cinderella at the ball.

His hands were gentle, almost reverent, like he was afraid I’d disappear. My heart skipped a beat.

“You…” I blurted, “Do you like me?”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. He froze, deer-in-headlights.

He ducked his head. “Yeah. I think I do.”

His voice was soft, vulnerable. I felt my cheeks go hot, like I’d stuck my face in a toaster.

A mechanical voice chimed, “Congrats! Mission complete—successful love connection!” I blinked, startled by the sudden Americanized app-speak.

The app’s voice was back, as annoyingly chipper as ever. I stared at Alex, totally floored.

What? Wait, who did I just win over?

I looked at him, then at my own hands. The realization hit me like a truck going sixty.

Alex looked just as stunned. “You succeeded?”

He blinked, mouth open. I nodded, still trying to catch up.

“No, only you confessed!”

I pointed at him, accusing. He laughed, a little shaky but happier than I’d ever seen him.

We stared at each other, both a little shell-shocked.

The silence stretched between us, then—slowly—we both started to grin.

Oh. Alex was a guy in this world now. Huh.

I poked his cheek. “Why didn’t you like me sooner?”

He grinned, cheeks flaming red. "I was scared," he admitted.

He smiled, pulling me into a hug. “I’ve liked you for a while. Just didn’t dare say it.”

His arms were warm, solid. I hugged him back, my heart thumping so hard I thought it might burst.

We got all awkward and giggly. Suddenly, his warmth faded, the world collapsed, and I blinked awake—in my own room.

I sat up, disoriented. My posters, my desk, my old hoodie draped over the chair. I was really home. For real this time.

I was home.

The silence was so loud, it almost hurt. I waited for the app’s voice, but it was gone. Just me.

I looked around. No Alex. My chest felt hollow, aching in a way that surprised me.

I hugged my knees, staring at the empty space beside me. It felt colder than before—like something important was missing.

He was just an app, not even from my world. I tried to go back to normal, but everything—pizza, lattes, movies—reminded me of him. Every little thing.

Every time I passed a pizza place, I thought of his goofy grin. Every strawberry latte tasted flat, like someone had stolen the sweetness.

I realized: I liked Alex too.

It hit me in the middle of the night, scrolling through old photos. I missed him. More than I wanted to admit.

Weeks passed. One afternoon, I sat under a maple tree, watching guys play basketball. A ball came flying at my face. Someone blocked it, just in time.

The sun was warm on my skin. I closed my eyes, letting the world blur. Then, suddenly, a familiar voice—one I’d been aching to hear.

I looked up—it was Alex.

He stood there, grinning, hair tousled, eyes bright as ever. My heart nearly exploded with relief and joy.

He grinned. “Found you. Hope I’m not too late.”

His voice was the same as ever—warm, teasing. I could barely breathe, I was so happy.

I smiled. “Your turn to buy dinner, right?”

I tried to sound casual, but my voice trembled. He just laughed, eyes sparkling.

He patted my head, eyes shining. “Of course. Let’s go—pizza’s on me.”

He offered his hand. I took it, and together we walked toward the future—one slice at a time.

[The End]