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Pidge’s soulmate was an absolute buffoon.
She knew that as certainly as she knew that she didn’t know how to fly an airplane. Which was unfortunate, because she had found herself, very suddenly, sitting at the controls of a plane, mid-flight. Fighter jet, by the look of it.
Every year, like clockwork, soulmates switched bodies for a day. It was something planned for, scheduled around, strictly controlled—expressly so situations like this didn’t happen.
Except, Pidge had never Switched with her soulmate before. The first Switch was unpredictable. It could befall you at any moment, for some it happened in childhood, others not until well into adulthood. Because of this unpredictable circumstance, Unswitched individuals were barred from certain professions…like fighter pilot.
Her soulmate was a liar.
And she hoped he wasn’t going to get them both killed.
“Lancelot?” The co-pilot called over the comms. “You okay up there?” Her soulmate’s name was Lancelot?
“No.” She answered, honestly. His voice was higher than she expected. Or maybe that was her own nerves. She couldn’t out him, even if he had royally fucked up by lying about their Switched status. He was her soulmate and she wasn’t going to ruin his prospects like that. She’d have to find another way out of this—incredibly dangerous—situation.
“Just breathe, cadet. I’ll take the controls if I need to.” The backseat co-pilot said. Oh good, he was only in training, there was a safety net. Still, she was at the helm of a fucking jet plane and had no idea what to do. Good thing his gloves had directions on them. Forward for down, backward for up. Seemed simple enough.
“Can you—uh—remind me what I’m supposed to be doing?”
A long suffering sigh. “Land the fucking plane, Lancelot.” Oh good, it was almost over then. She just had to land the plane. Easy, right? Forward for down.
Landing a plane, as it turned out, was not easy. The controls had been taken away from Lancelot and there was a disciplinary meeting. Not the first, by the sounds of it. She was yelled at, but she was just happy to be alive to be yelled at. Through the whole meeting, the one-eyed man who did the yelling only called her ‘Cadet’. No one seemed to call this guy by his full name. The other cadet in the locker room had just called him Lancelot, in a mocking tone. Apparently, even being someone else wouldn’t give her a reprieve from idiotic bullying.
His flight suit, flight jacket, every possession he’d had in his (unlocked) locker had just said ‘Lancelot’. There was a small mirror in the locker, that showed her dark hair, brown skin, and deep blue eyes. Features she didn’t recognise at all. It was supposed to be easy to find your soulmate after the first Switch. Most people carried ID in their pockets with their full names and home addresses, or a cellphone you could use to text yourself, or something that would make this process extremely straightforward.
Most people weren’t liars who illegally enrolled in military training programs.
Pidge was walking down the hallway in Lancelot’s body and the only she knew for sure was that he was tall. Much taller than she was. His strides were longer and the ceiling was closer than she was used to. If only she knew where she was going.
“Hey, buddy.” A arm landed around her shoulders, her head snapped around to see an even taller boy grinning down at her. “Heard you had another rough landing today.” The terrified expression gave her away immediately. “Oh no, it’s happening. Walk with me, act natural, it’s going to be okay.” Pidge let herself be pulled along in the urgent wake of the boy’s tight grip on her shoulders. “I’m Hunk Garret, we’re roommates. Don’t panic, I’ve got you.” He spoke in hushed tones, glancing around the hallway as they hurried. Pidge idly wondered if she should tell him not to panic. He seemed like he needed to hear it.
The door to a—surprisingly tidy—dorm room closed behind them before Hunk let go of her. Pidge stumbled a bit on her long legs.
“You can’t tell anyone, please.” Pidge begged, startled again by the unfamiliar voice she spoke with. “I know this is bad, but…”
“I won’t.” Hunk promised. “We made a pact a long time ago, I’m on your side.”
“Oh good.” She turned toward the room. “Um, which bed is…” she paused ‘his?’ or ‘mine?’ or what?
“On the left.” Hunk answered. Pidge sat heavily on the bed, slouching in her strange tall frame.
“Is his name really Lancelot?” She asked, abruptly.
“What?” Hunk paused rifling through the large bookshelf that bridged the two sides of the room. She gestured to the name tag on her flight jacket. “Oh, no, that’s his callsign. Like a pilot nickname, you know? He’s—actually, I’ll let him tell you that story. His name is just Lance. Lance McClain.”
“Lance McClain.” She repeated. She didn’t feel any spark of connection with his name. She wouldn’t admit to anyone that she had kind of expected she would.
“Usually you’d have your customary day to wander around in his life, but I think you understand why you can’t do that. So, who are you and what’s he dealing with today?” Hunk took a book off the shelf and sat on the bed across from her. He had a particular sparkle in his eyes. He was enjoying the drama.
“Oh, uh, my name is Pidge, well it’s—but I, my close friends call me Pidge, actually it’s just my brother. I don’t have a lot of friends, I—Katie. Katie Holt.”
“Wait, you’re a girl?”
“I—yes?” Oh no. Was Lance gay? It happened all the time, soulmates who didn’t match one’s presumed sexuality. Sometimes they were able to work it out, through radical honesty and acceptance…and sometimes they weren’t. Pidge wasn’t the girliest girl, sure, but she’d never felt like…a guy? Even sitting in Lance’s body, she still felt like a girl. Would he…accept that? Was she lying to herself? Would they be another statistic?
“I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Hunk interrupted her doom spiral. “Lance likes women, he’s just absolutely terrible with them. I didn’t believe there was woman that would put up with him.”
“What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes, suspicious.
“There’s this bar, just off base, we go sometimes and he tries to pick up women. Just a string of embarrassing failures.”
“Well they all think he’s found his soulmate.”
“That’s not a concern to the women there.” Hunk smiled, patiently. “Regardless, what were you doing today?”
“I was writing a physics exam. That should be fine. Lance is smart, right? He got into pilot training.”
“He was always better at the practical side of things.” Hunk winced.
“I just got yelled at for almost crashing an airplane, and it very clearly was not the first time that had happened.”
“He’s been…struggling recently. Hopefully this will help.” He gestured vaguely in her direction.
“This?”
“Switching. I think it’s been really getting to him, just not knowing when it would happen, or who you were. He’s not even that old, but he’s started talking like he’s missed some kind of deadline.”
“How old is he?”
“Seventeen. How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Oh, high school physics? Yeah, he’ll be fine.”
“College admissions physics.”
“You’re some kinda genius, then?” Hunk said with a low whistle.
“Yeah, sorta. Will he still be fine?”
“Probably. He won’t ace it, but he should be able to pass.”
“I can make up the points somewhere else.” She said, fake casual, even if the thought of anything less than 98% made her break out in a cold sweat.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Hunk grinned. “So is he.”
“He lied well enough to get in here. When did he say our Switch date was? What the hell was he even thinking? What’s gonna happen next year?”
“The weight of responsibility and fear of consequences keeps most of the cadets here very honest, so no one even questioned him that hard. He said it’s December 14th. He’s headstrong, he probably wasn’t thinking. This is his last year as a cadet and if he flunks out the problem solves itself.”
“Do you like this guy or not?” Pidge asked. “I’m getting conflicting vibes.”
“He’s a good guy, but he’s also a bit of a dumbass. And now the consequences of his actions are catching up with him.”
“And when he doesn’t flunk out?” She asked, catching the ghost of a smile on Hunk’s lips.
“I hope you know a good hacker that can seamlessly alter his records.”
“Know one?” Pidge smirked. “I am one. One of the best.”
“Of course you are. Here.” He held out the book to her. “He wrote this for you, write your phone number in the back. We have a few days leave at the end of the month. Oh, this base is in New Mexico, by the way, not sure how that works for you travel wise.”
“Is this Collins?”
“Yes!”
“My dad works here. We live in Plaht. Holy shit.”
“Commander Holt is your dad?” Hunk’s excitement drained away.
“Why are you acting like that’s a bad thing?”
“He’s obviously going to know you and Lance haven’t been Switching for the last three years. He’s going to get caught.”
“And it would ruin his life.”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t worry, dad would do anything for family, and he’s…you know…my soulmate, which is basically family.”
“If you say so.”
“Trust me, dad kept a pilot on active flights after it was discovered he had a degenerative illness. He puts people over protocol all the time. If anything, this makes it easier.”
“You two sure are soulmates.” Hunk stood with a sigh. “I’ll get out of your hair, read through the journal, feel free to poke around his side of the room, but please stay inside for the day. It’s safer for all of us.”
“Of course.” Pidge nodded. She saw the distrust in his eyes, and just smiled charmingly.
“Oh yeah, you two are meant for each other.” Hunk muttered, heading out the door.
Pidge opened the journal Hunk had handed her. Lance’s handwriting was neatly spaced and rounded many of the sharp corners on the letters for efficiency. She decided she liked that about him.
‘Hello soulmate! Sorry about all of this, hopefully you didn’t get caught up in anything too crazy today. I know that the Unswitched aren’t allowed in pilot training, but this dream is really important to me and I’m tired of waiting around. Oh, not that you’re taking too long or anything, I know it comes down to both of us.
‘My name is Lance McClain, I’m 15 16 17. I grew up in Cuba and I have a big family: grandparents, mom, dad, 2 older brothers and 2 older sisters. They’re all excited to meet you. I am too. Oh, man, I am so excited to meet you. I promise I’m taking good care of your body today. I hope I get to see you soon. I know I’ve made it harder by being on a military base, and I hope you aren’t too mad about it. I guess I have a lot of hopes. My mom said I shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ yet, so I won’t.’
The rest of the journal contained smaller entries, sporadic updates at important events or emotional moments. Small things that let her get to know him. She wished she’d been thoughtful enough to write something like that for him. Pidge hadn’t prepared anything for her first Switch, too busy with her day to day life to think about it. There was an entry for the day Lance moved from simulator training to real planes.
‘I was sure we would have Switched by now. I never meant for this to go this far. I’m not stupid or irresponsible, I promise. I just wanted to follow my dreams. I was 14 when I applied. I really believed it would all work out somehow and now things have gotten out of hand. I want to keep going. I feel like I have to. I need to keep believing it will work out.’
Pidge dug around the desk drawers until she found a pen. ‘It will work out’ she wrote under the entry, in her own looping hand ‘I promise.’ Pidge hated her handwriting, the letters were inconsistent sizes, and she’d spent too much time perfecting the loop on the ‘g’s only to realise the letter was less common than she hoped. It looked strange, next to Lance’s tidy letters, but she didn’t dwell on it and kept reading. She’d make notes occasionally, and sometimes doodle something where there was enough space.
Mostly she just read his words. She read them outloud, hearing them in his voice, trying to figure out what his usual intonation was. Just trying to find what felt ‘right’.
The latest entry was dated from the week before.
‘I’m getting worried that maybe you don’t exist, Soulmate. I know I’m not that old but it feels like it’s been so long. Everyday, every flight, is just another chance where the worst-best thing in my life didn’t happen again. I think I’m going to lose my mind waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hope you’re having a better time than I am. I hope you’re out there. I hope I can find you soon.’
In the back, past a clutch of still empty pages, he had written his phone number. And left a place for her to write her own. Thankfully, memorising strings of numbers was a Pidge speciality and she made a mental note to text him first thing in the morning. Or sooner, if she could find his phone.
She poked around his side of the room for a while, not finding a phone, or anything terribly interesting. He clearly had a favourite pen—blue ink, ball point, retractable—he had about 20 of them in the desk drawer. There were contraband snacks in the bottom drawer, so at least she wouldn’t starve. His side of the bookshelf held piloting manuals, old pulp novels, fitness magazines from a subscription that had run out 2 years ago, and and next to the empty spot where Hunk had pulled out the journal was another journal. She opened the nearly identical book: ‘¡Hola alma gemela!’ it declared. It seemed to be an identical journal, but written in Spanish. It wasn’t guaranteed that soulmates would speak the same language, it was nice of Lance to try to cover all the bases he could. Pidge didn’t speak Spanish, but seeing the easy natural flow of his writing in his mother tongue, she resolved to learn it.
Hunk had made her promise to stay in the room, and she knew it was the safest course of action. Even if she did want to go pester her father and get a head start on the record remediation she’d have to do.
On one hand, Lance’s stress and anguish compelled her to stay in the room. To play it safe. On the other hand, she was a problem solver, a well connected wunderkind, who could fix everything for him. As long as she didn’t get caught.
Her indecision was solved when Hunk came back. With dinner.
“Can you take me to my dad’s office?” She asked, between bites of cafeteria cheeseburger.
“Wouldn’t he be gone for the day?”
“Probably not. I know you think it’s a bad idea, but he’s my dad.”
“But you’re not ‘you’ right now.”
“You can take me, or you can sit here and argue with me all night.”
“Secret third option: I leave you alone again, and wash my hands of this. Whatever you do is your own problem.”
“You’re a better person than that.” She argued. Hunk scowled.
***
In a surprising turn of events, Sam Holt was not in his office.
According to his assistant ‘his wife called, so he left on time’. Lance was probably having a nice dinner with her family. She was jealous. They were almost back to the safety of the dorm room when Hunk grabbed her shoulder.
“Just act natural.” Hunk whispered. “James Griffin and Ina Leifsdottir on the left. Hopefully they’ll leave us alone.” Pidge tried to subtly observe the approaching figures, a young man with a well sculpted face that would look great on recruitment posters, and a gangly woman who kept her gaze on the floor.
“McClain.” James called.
“Shit.” Hunk muttered. “We should run.”
“Oh, because that’s not suspicious at all.” Pidge fired back.
“Heard you got chewed out again today.” James said, drawing nearer.
“Back off, Griffin, he’s not feeling well today.” Hunk said, trying to angle himself between them.
“Seems to be the case everyday.” James sneered. “We don’t need a loose cannon like you in the program.”
“Hey!” Pidge protested.
“I’m just trying to do you a favour, McClain. Drop out now and leave with some of your dignity intact. Solo flights start in a few months and we all know you’ll be held back. Command can’t trust that you won’t crash and hurt someone, or worse.” Ina kept her eyes down, her agreement loud in her silence.
“You’re right.” Pidge said. Hunk looked back at her surprised. “I messed up. It can’t keep going like this. I’ll do better, or I’ll bow out.”
“Huh?” James said, all wind gone from his sails. “I mean, yeah. That’s right.” James nodded and stalked off. Ina followed after him, tossing a suspicious glance over her shoulder.
“What was that?” Hunk hissed.
“He’s right. If Lancelot here doesn’t get his shit together he’s gonna fail out of the program. That’s the second time I’ve been berated about it today.” She sighed. “Owning it seemed like the easiest way to get that guy to shut up.”
“Man, I hope my soulmate is as good for me as you are for him.”
“You haven’t Switched either?!”
“Shhhhhh.” Hunk looked around the empty hallway frantically. “Don’t shout incriminating things, I am begging you. I’m a mechanics cadet, it’s fine. My only crime is being complicit in this, and I regret it more every second.”
They made it back to the dorm room with no further incidents. Hunk left again, saying he would stay somewhere else for the night, and implored her to stay inside. It was almost curfew anyway. So, she contented herself with curling up in his bed, comparing the journals, trying to find the patterns that would unlock the foreign language for her.
Lance wore cheap cologne, but beneath that his bedding smelled like industrial detergent and a comforting natural man smell.
She fell asleep in his bed and woke up in her own.
“Dad!”
***
“He probably just wants to welcome me to the family.” Lance prattled as he and Hunk headed to Commander Holt’s office. The Commander had summoned him immediately after breakfast, and Lance had been white-knuckled trying to keep hold of his relaxed demeanour. Sam Holt had been remarkably understanding when he’s explained the situation over dinner the night before, but he really had no idea what to expect in a professional setting.
Hunk had tagged along, citing that he was just curious after his fruitless trip to Holt’s office the day before. Lance knew Hunk was a messy bitch who loved drama.
“Or he wants to rake you over the coals for endangering his daughter.”
“Shit.” That was very possible.
They rounded the corner and two figures stood outside the Commander’s office. His gaze locked on the shorter one, a familiar brown haired girl he’d seen in the mirror just the day before.
“Katie!” He was moving toward her, even as he watched her expression shift to surprise, to happiness, and back to surprise as he scooped her into a twirling embrace.
“Lance!” She squeaking, arms pinned down at her sides.
“Sorry, sorry.” He set he down and stepped back, he could feel the flush and the stupid grin on his face but could do nothing about it. “I’m just excited to meet you, for real.” He grinned. He’d known she was short, but standing next to her as himself he realised she didn’t even reach his shoulders.
Commander Holt cleared his throat.
“Sir.” Lance saluted, suddenly finding the discipline he’d been missing.
“Good to see you again, Lance.” The Commander smiled. “Now, Cadet Garret, I believe we’re wanted elsewhere.”
“Uh…yes, sir?” Hunk was lead away and they were left alone.
Lance was struck with the odd feeling that he knew this girl so well, but also not at all.
“So, what are you doing here? Flattering as it would be, I’m pretty sure you didn’t come all this was just to see me.” His hands dove into his pockets to hide the fact that he had no idea what to do with them.
“Just doing some light record remediation.” She said simply.
“What?”
“So there’s no paper trail when you need our Switch Day off next year. And…sorry I’m not a Brazilian model or anything.”
“What?” Wow, he was killing it in the suave department. “Oh god, you’ve seen my records.” The floor fell out from under him, why the hell had she seen that before he even got a chance to see her face to face? “I wrote that when I was 14, it was stupid. I…I think you’re great.” He’d wrote on his pilot application that his soulmate was an up and coming Brazilian model named Maria Clara Alves. It was exactly the sort of thing a 14 year old boy would write. The fact that they hadn’t audited him based on that alone was almost distressing. “I’m sorry, about all of this, everything that happened. The whole…plane thing was really bad.”
“Well, I survived, so it’s just a fun story now.” She grinned. He liked her smile, he decided. When he’d tried it in the mirror it didn’t look quite right, but she wore it effortlessly. “By the way, what happened with my exam?”
“Oh man, I panicked immediately and told the proctor I wasn’t you. I don’t know what kind of reputation you have with that school but they had me out of there right away. You’ll get a rewrite or a free pass or something, they’ll let you know.” He took her proffered hand and let her lead him through the faculty hallways. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“You know who my dad is, I basically grew up here.” He ran this thumb over the bumps of her knuckles. She was more intense than he expected. He probably needed that.
“Is your dad…mad at me?” Even as he asked it the question felt like the wrong thing to ask, but the right words wouldn’t present themselves.
“No, he’s weirdly free-spirited for a military man. Don’t worry about it, just focus more on your flight stuff. It’s not fun being yelled at all the time.” She opened a nondescript door and a blast of dry desert air washed over them.
She lead him into an enclosed courtyard, young alamo trees lined the concrete walls around a small path with some benches.
“I thought the faculty courtyard was a myth.” Lance breathed. He’d heard all manner of urban legends since he joined the cadet program and they always took place in the hollowed faculty courtyard. Everything from ghost sightings to illicit hookups with senior officers.
Katie let go of his hand and his surprise drove his eyes to find her. She was smiling up at him.
“What?”
“I was just thinking it’s good that you’re easily impressed.” She kicked at a pebble in the gravel path.
“Sorry, aren’t you graduating high school like 3 years early and going to the best school in the country on an academic scholarship? What part of that is not impressive?”
“It’s just book smart stuff.” She muttered.
“Yeah, and? You’re a genius. That’s cool.”
“No one has ever said I’m cool.” She laughed.
“Your brother has. And a lot of other things that were very complimentary of you and vaguely threatening toward me.” Lance took her hand again, heading for a shaded bench. “He’s cool though.”
“If Matt reads as ‘cool’ to you maybe we can make this work.” She laughed.
“Of course we can, we’re soulmates.”
***
Katie opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.
It was the anniversary of her first Switch. Time for her first scheduled Switch. She'd been excused from all her classes for the day, giving her soulmate the opportunity to roam around Boston doing whatever he pleased.
Her soulmate.
The idea still made her a little giddy, even a year later.
Despite their…tumultuous first meeting, it had been so easy to fall in love with him.
He’d turned his flight performance around and had nearly completed all his certifications for active duty. Her dad was quietly pulling strings to get him assigned closer to her school. She missed him.
She stretched her long limbs and sat up, wondering what sort of day she was in for. He’d clearly been up to something, avoiding talking about what he was doing on Switch Day, and then only sending her 3 selfies the day before instead of his usual 8-12. He’d been plotting something, but she had no idea what.
They hadn’t even discussed the possibility of him coming to see her for their Switch Day. They were both too busy. They had been able to see each other a few times a month before she moved across the country, but her robotics scholarship wasn’t exactly portable, so they had to deal with seeing each other less for a bit.
She had barely registered a small, simply decorated, bedroom when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in?” She called, in her borrowed voice. The door popped open and a woman who had short brown hair and a strong familial resemblance to her soulmate poked her head in.
“Ah, good morning.” (Presumably) Lance’s sister smiled, before turning back to the unseen hallway beyond. “¡Mamá, ella está despierta!” She shouted.
Katie was in his family home. About to meet his family.
Her soulmate was the actual worst.