I could go back to being Billy Jones. Did I want to?

I chewed and swallowed again. Such a marvelous meal Jack had had catered. I sighed. I put down the fork, took a sip of wine, and turned so I didn’t have to look at him sideways. I pushed a curtain of hair out of the way. “Did you just say….: I paused to try to think but he was already grinning and nodding at me.

I tried again. “Did you say you found the magic camera that turned me into a girl?”

“I did say that, I did,” he agreed, looking pleased. “But it wasn’t in the film museum….”

I interrupted. “I don’t care where it was! Where is it now?”

“Safe,” he said.

I frowned at him, but he just grinned at me. “Don’t pout,” he said. “I can get to it quickly. But we need to talk.”

I turned back to the food. I was not pouting, and to prove it I was going to eat this incredible meal. But the camera…. I could go back to being Billy Jones.

Did I want to? I took another serving of potatoes and chewed while thinking.

Being Billy Jones was being who I had been my whole life up until a couple of days ago. Billy, who wanted to get into movies, to become an actor. Billy who most people wouldn’t look twice at.

Being Hallelujah Jones was being someone who turned heads, who attracted attention, who got things offered to her. Like a part in a movie.

“You’re thinking,” said Jack. “I can smell insulation burning.”

“Shut up,” I said. “I’m trying to eat here.” But truth to tell, I had taken the edge off my hunger and felt mildly concerned that I wasn’t demanding Jack use the camera to turn me back to Billy immediately.

Jack laughed at me, grinning like a hyena.

“What?” I demanded.

He shook his head. “You look so cute when you’re confused.”

“Hmmp,” I said. Was that a compliment? Just on general principles, I glared at him and stuck out my tongue. He laughed so hard, he almost fell out of the chair.

I had a hard time not giggling at his antics, so I clapped a hand over my mouth and fizzed like a teakettle.

“Ah, babe,” said Jack, after wiping his eyes, “you’re just too good at this stuff. Is there room in the movie industry for a comedienne with a killer body like yours?”

“I hope so,” I managed to say.

He nodded, calmly. “So you’re going to stay Hallie and I can sell the Magic Camera on eBay?”

“Don’t you dare!” I warned him. “That thing is dangerous!”

Jack laughed again. “There are people who would give a lot to have their picture taken with it.”

“Huh?” I said. “People who want….” I stopped. Of course there were. Imagine if Bruce Jenner had been offered such a thing before spending a fortune on transforming into Caitlyn. I frowned. There had to be something wrong with that plan.

Jack watched me, smiling, clearly waiting for something.

I didn’t know what else to do so I started putting the food still in the catering containers into the refrigerator. “You got enough here for two or three days.”

He shrugged. “I ordered a meal for two people, they’re generous with their portions.”

“Yeah, well,” I turned to him after putting the veggies in the crisper. “I need to see the camera, Jack. Make sure it’s the right one.”

He nodded. “It’s the right one,” he assured me. “They’re can’t be two crazy machines that look like antique cameras, but are covered in dials and switches that don’t seem to do anything.”

“Where is it?” The potatoes went on a lower shelf and the meat on a higher one, both still in their catering boxes. The wine I resealed with one of the plastic corks we kept around, and the loaf of bread went into the bread keeper. It was red wine so it didn’t need to be kept cool, and if we didn’t eat the bread tomorrow, it would make good French toast on Monday.

I checked to see if we had eggs and cream. We did.

“You’re taking this awfully calmly,” Jack commented.

“It’s called acting, Jack. Outwardly, I’m all calm and know my lines, but inside I am freaking the fuck out.” I glared at him. “You’re a business major, you wouldn’t understand.”

He snorted, wagging one eyebrow. I wondered if I could learn to do that.

I took a deep breath. “”Where’s the fucking camera, Jack?”

“In the safe in my closet,” he admitted.

“You’ve got a safe in your closet?” I asked as intelligently as such a stupid question could be asked.

He spread his hands in a gesture. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t even have a closet,” I reminded him. All I had was a freestanding wardrobe in my tiny room.

“Well, it’s safe where it is,” he said. “But you need to decide what we’re going to do about it.”

“Yeah, well….” It shouldn’t be a hard question. I should jump at a chance to go back to being the person I’d been my whole life. But, but, but….

Jack watched different expressions chase across my face, his own smugness an irritant that was unlikely to produce a pearl.

“You kinda like being Hallelujah Jones, don’t you?” He observed.

“I’ve always been Hallelujah Jones,” I retorted. “It is my middle name.” I looked around the kitchen to be sure I had put all the food away.

“But no one was shouting it, were they?” He waved his hands around. “Hallelujah! Hallie-Lu-Yah!”

I sniffed, pushing hair out of my eyes. “That’s the worst Leonard Cohen I’ve ever heard,” I said. I dropped a few utensils into the sink, grabbed some paper towels to wipe the counter down with.

He chuckled. “You’re a gorgeous woman, so good-looking it’s almost scary. And you’ve got that little-girl voice to make you sound vulnerable so that guys will fall over themselves to protect you.”

“Huh?” I stared at him. The counter was as clean as it was going to get and I dropped the wad of paper towels in the trash. “Huh?” I repeated.

He waved away my confusion. “You don’t want to go back to being Billy Same-ol-thang Jones, do you?”

“Huh?” I said again, third times the charm. I’m not always so slow on the uptake. I blew out a puff of air with a lock of blonde attached. I must not have heard him right. “Billy Simoleon?”

He waved that away, too. “I think I made this offer before, but if you stay Hallie,” this time he waved at me. “Stay as Hallie, looking like that. You don’t have to pay rent. And….”

I backed away from him. “Jack, are you just trying to get into my pants?” I squeaked.

“Not ‘just’,” he waved some more. “I want to help you be you. I’ll take on the job of being your manager and agent. So my business and marketing studies will help with that. I already got you one job….” He hiked his ass up and sat on the arm of our big couch.

“The car thing,” I said remembering.

“Car show at Century City, yeah….” He stopped and seemed to be staring at my chest. “From this angle, I can just see a bit of underboob.”

I frowned. I tried to replay the conversation. Had Jack admitted that he was trying to get into my pants. I looked down again. I wasn’t wearing pants.

“That costume is genius, by the way, the boob window is just in the right place,” he said.

I looked down, again, blondeness in the way. Wait…. Which costume was this? I didn’t even know any more. I glared at Jack. “It’s still glued on!” I reminded him.

“Hmm.” He cocked his head to one side. “We need to get it off you by nine in the morning, so you can wear a bikini for the car show!”

“I—what? A bikini!”

“You’ve seen these car shows haven’t you? The models always wear bikinis. No one looks at the cars.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dammit, Jack.” I squirmed. “I wanna…,” but he interrupted me again.

“Does it itch?” he asked.

“Does what itch? … No!” He got another glare. “Jack! This is all distraction….” I yawned suddenly. “What are you doing with a safe in your room big enough to hold an old-time camera?”

“The film canisters come off,” he mentioned.

“It would still be huge!” That last word turned into another yawn. “This is all so confusing. I wanna see the camera!” I pouted at him, but spoiled it with another yawn.

I tried to stand up. “I’m exhausted. And that carby meal is making me so sleepy….” I took a step toward my room. I hoped it was toward my room.

Jack was beside me, half-propping me up. “Are you going to be able to sleep still glued into the costume?”

“I did on the bus,” I remember saying. That struck me as funny and I giggled sleepily.

Then I heard Jack say, “Whoa!” He caught me before I hit the floor.

As something reached up and pulled me into inky darkness, I remember thinking, “I still haven’t decided on whether to change back.”

At least I was going to be able to sleep on it.