The Other Side of Me – Part Four
by Limbo’s Mistress

Katie threw her hands in the air in disgust and sighed.

“Jesus Christ! Come on, Chuck. Stop being such a whiny little priss.”

“I’m not being a priss,” I replied, knowing I sounded exactly like the whiny priss she was accusing me of being. “I’m … taking my time. No need to rush into it, you know?”

Another toss of the hands, this time followed by a super-exaggerated eye roll.

“Rush into it? It’s called undressing, doofus. I understand wanting to take it slow and sensual when the timing’s right. But unless you’re planning on seducing yourself, you’re not being romantic, you’re being a priss.”

After informing me, which a smile larger than I could have ever believed possible, that I needed to get naked as the first step in learning how to be a girl, Katie had practically shoved me through the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom. I was honestly surprised her eagerness to get started didn’t cause me to stumble over any of the furniture.

When we crossed into my room, however, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Back in my own dimension, I lived in a dorm suite on campus with three other guys. So the room I’d occupied until I graduated high school had been turned into my mother’s sewing and exercise room. The last time I’d seen it, two days ago, it had been cluttered with a stair climber, a stationary bike, and a table littered with scraps of cloth.

But on this side of the multiverse, Charlene never moved out. As such, the room before me was exactly how it’d been that morning when she’d left for class.

The hardwood floors were exactly the same. So was the bay window opposite the door. Everything else, though, was completely different.

The bed was a four-poster queen with a white wood frame and headboard. The thick comforter, a patchwork of pinks and purples, was in a bit of disarray. There was a dresser against the wall across from the bed, a three-drawer piece that matched the bed and the small nightstand next to it.

The closet on the far side of the room was closed, but the angle of it was wrong. Almost as if the original door had been moved at some point in the past so that the narrow space which I was accustomed to had been enlarged. The door itself was open just a crack, but the overhead light didn’t cast enough illumination to see into the darkness.

There were several framed posters adorning the walls. The one over the bed was a Monet. Waterlilies, I think. There was also a movie poster for a film called “Days of Love”. The image was of the front of a farmhouse with three women sitting on a porch, relaxed and laughing. The only one I recognized was Anna Kendrick.

“Weird, huh?” Katie asked, glancing up at my obviously shocked expression. “Guess I don’t need to ask if your room looks like this.”

I shook my head. “Not even close.”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to get acclimated to the décor. Move it.”

She pushed me into the room, marched past me, and opened the closet door. There was a full-length mirror hanging on the inside. Now that more light could get through the opening, I could tell, even from across the room, the inside of the closet was close to maximum capacity.

Katie placed her hands on her hips. “Well, let’s get this over with. The sooner you get over the hump…” she snickered. “Or, in your case, humps, the sooner we can move on to more interesting topics.”

I walked slowly toward her, and the mirror. The closer I got to my new reflection, the more apprehensive I became. Back in Jackson’s lab, I’d given Charlene a cursory examination through the dimensional window. But it had been more of a response to actually seeing what I would have looked like had I been born a girl.

As before, the weird sort of vertigo of watching my not-reflection get closer settled in. Only this time, it was far less jarring. Hopefully, it would eventually vanish altogether, but for right now, I focused simply on my new face.

There was a smattering of blue shadow across my upper eyelids, accentuating my eyes. As I stared at myself, I noticed for the first time that that the gray of them was like that of storm clouds. The nose parked between those eyes was slightly slenderer than I was used to, with the tip just barely upturned. My lips were full, and thankfully devoid of any sort of lipstick. Save the nearly vanished remains of the cherry gloss I’d tasted earlier.

“Have you seen yourself yet?” Katie asked softly, watching me study the girl in the mirror.

“Yeah. I little. But not like this.”

“Ogle away, girl. It’s your body now.”

I shot her a glance. “Temporarily.”

She sighed. “You know what I meant.”

Turning back to the mirror, I slowly lifted my arms to reach behind me to the band holding my long auburn hair up. As I did, I both noticed and felt my chest shift with the motion. The mounds actually seemed to inflate even more. Snapping my attention back to my new face, I yanked the cloth-covered elastic free. When I did, the whole silky mess came down to drift over my shoulders and frame my face.

The effect, to put it mildly, was stunning.

Katie laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re hot. The only consolation is that you don’t really know it yet.”

I glanced over at her. “Sounds like someone’s jealous.”

“Duh. I mean, look at you. Her. Whatever. And on top of that hotness is a set of brains. Sure, maybe not in the same league as her boyfriend, but enough to ace most of her classes. Totally not fair.”

I turned back to my reflection. The more I stared, the more I saw just how pretty Charlene truly was. Katie was right, it wasn’t fair. Because, let me tell you, Charlie was not anyone’s idea of a hunk. Samantha Thomas being the lone exception.

“Okay, that’s enough staring at your face. It’s the areas below your neck you’ve got to come to terms with first.” She pinched the front of my vest with her finger and thumb. “Strip.”

“Give me a second,” I said, feeling my pulse quicken. “No need to rush into it.”

Which had led to her labeling me a “priss”.

“It’s like a band-aid,” she said, gesturing in the air. “Just rip the thing off and be done with it.”

I drew in a breath, bit down on my lower lip, then reached up with a mildly trembling hand to grab the zipper on the front of the garment. Slowly, I pulled it down, revealing a dark blue sports bra beneath. As the confining factor of the vest loosened, the buoyant globes held in check by the bra expanded.

“Holy …” I tried to not stare at the deep cleft of cleavage, but that would have been like asking me not to stare at a unicorn or something. “They’re … huge.”

Katie giggled. “Not really. I mean, yeah, they’re bigger than mine. But I’m only sixteen.” She paused for a second, then shrugged. “Then again, I guess they’re humongous when compared to what you’re accustomed.”

“That’s putting it softly,” I grumbled.

I slipped my arms out of the vest and tossed the jacket over onto the bed. Turning back to the mirror, I was finally able to remove my eyes from my new bosom to gawk at the ripple of muscle located beneath the bottom edge of the sports bra.

Long-distance running will keep you lean, with the only part of your anatomy getting rock-hard being your calves and quads. A six-pack was not the standard fare of a cross-country athlete.

Apparently that was so not the case with cheerleading.

I reached down and ran my fingers over the taut muscle, shuddering a bit at the feeling of the smooth, hairless, super-soft skin of Charlene’s abdomen. With my index finger, I traced the outlines of the muscles beneath, my eyes focused squarely on the mirror.

“Wow,” I breathed in awe. “I always wanted to have six-pack abs. Just never thought it would take travelling to another dimension, and another body, to get them.”

Katie laughed. “Yeah. Well, that’s the results of almost an hour of exercise in the morning. Every morning.”

Her statement drifted past my awareness as I nodded in agreement. My fingers slid over a small scar on the lower right side, just above the curve of my hip bone. I glanced over at Katie.

“Appendectomy,” she said.

I blinked, staring at her for several long seconds. “Like, three weeks after her fifteenth birthday? I asked.

Her eyes widened. “Really? You too?”

I shook my head. “I had tonsillitis. Weird, huh? So much is exactly the same and then there are things that are really close.”

Katie grinned and reached out to poke one of her fingers into the side of my boob.

“And some things that are way Hella different.”

I nodded. “Tell me about it.” I turned back to the mirror and worked on building my resolve to continue the undressing and inspection.

“Keep going, Chuck,” Katie said, reaching out to tug on the waistband of the yoga pants. “No need to press pause now.”

I nodded in agreement. It was better to just go ahead and get this over with. If I chickened out now, I would never be able to move forward. “Okay,” I said in a slightly trembling voice. “Here goes nothing.”

Using the toe of my right shoe, I pressed against the heel of my left and slipped my foot free. The sock that appeared was white and pink with little red hearts all over the top. Seriously? I shook my head in a passing moment of dread about the clothing I was going to be stuck with during my hopefully brief stay. I was starting to get the feeling Charlene was quite the girly-girl.

Grabbing the waistband of the pants, I pushed them down a pair of very toned, shapely legs. I pulled one foot free, then the other, kicked the bunched up material aside, and stood back up.

“Oh,” Katie said, covering her mouth with one hand as her eyes drifted down to my posterior. “I think someone was planning on a little private time with Jackson when she got dressed this morning.”

I didn’t bother to answer. Instead, I gaped at the satiny, dark red material that covered my more intimate bits. Though the front of the garment was obviously more than enough to keep everything hidden from view, to me it felt like less cloth than one would find in a hanky.

A second later, I realized that what I thought was a minor wedgie that had been bothering me since I woke up in Jackson’s lab, was in fact, a thong.

I let out a little squeak of surprise, and covered my crotch with both hands. My cheeks, not the ones with the high end lingerie nestled between them, ignited with shame.

“Oh lord,” I groaned, feeling like I was completely naked and standing in the center spot on a platform stage during a Nationals Meet awards ceremony. “Just shoot me now.”

The smile behind Katie’s fingers widened. Quickly followed by a giggle that soon devolved into a round of uncontrollable guffaws. Not even my most potent death stare could rouse her from her chortling.

“This is absolutely precious! I …” More laughter. “I can’t …” Now she was stumbling backwards to the bed, where she collapsed on her side and curled up as the humor of the situation, which I found not the least bit funny, overwhelmed her rational processes.

Grumbling, decided against putting the yoga pants back on. Instead, I marched over to the bed and leaned over her.

“I don’t find this funny in the least, Katherine!”

Her eyes opened, looked up to see me there with what I knew was a furious expression plastered on my face, then closed again as another fit of giggling ensued.

I balled my hands into fists, nails digging into the palms. I was dealing with an existential crisis of galactic measure and one of the few people I thought I could count on for help was currently chuckling herself into an early grave. Was my own Katie so … flighty? I was ashamed to realize that I really didn’t know.

“You’re supposed to be helping me,” I said, stomping my foot. Which led to a wince when I realized that was totally not something I normally did. Damn this body’s unconscious muscle memory.

Katie continued to laugh, attempting to speak actual words through the giggling.

“You … hahahaha … boy in … hahahahaha … thong.” Another round of high-pitched laughter. “Your face. Hahahahaha! Your face.”

I gritted my teeth together, the heat from before surging up my neck and onto my cheeks. I had patience with a lot of things. Some of them, like remaining friends with Jackson despite the effect of his wacky experiments, required a near infinite amount. However, one thing I couldn’t stand was being laughed at.

At least, when I wasn’t trying to be funny.

I glared at the giggling girl on my bed.

“If all you’re going to do is laugh and mock me, then consider our deal off. I’ll just stumble around like the clueless guy I am and do the best I can to keep Charlene’s life on track by my lonesome.” I waited a dramatic three seconds before lowering my voice to what I hoped was a threatening level. “And I’ll make sure that Jackson knows how much help you weren’t. That way he can give her a full report the moment she’s back on this side of the multiverse.”

The laughter cut off as abruptly as if I’d pulled a plug. She leapt up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, looking up at me with wide-eyed concern as the color drained from her formerly blushed face.

“You … you wouldn’t,” she said in a near-whisper. “She would kill me.”

I nodded. “Not to mention, I might even be so inclined to call Tabby Johnson and argue against her sister giving you a shot to be on the squad.”

Now, I couldn’t be completely sure what kind of a person Charlene was. Our lives had a lot of similarity, but that didn’t mean that we had matching personalities. For all I knew, she was the type of big sister to constantly lord her age and connections over her younger sibling like some sadistic drill sergeant toying with a fresh-off-the-bus recruit.

Though, considering everything I’d managed to learn about her in the short few hours I’d been trapped in her skin, I doubted my doppelgänger was anywhere close to being such a horrible person. Katie, of course, would know that about her sister. So it was likely that such a threat coming from Charlene might have been brushed off as idle.

However, Katie was well aware that her sister wasn’t currently in this body’s driver’s seat, and had no earthly clue what type of a person this strange boy from another universe might be. For all she knew, I might actually follow threw on my threats.

After a second, she nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she said, actually sounding contrite. “Since you dropped the news on me in the kitchen about what happened to you, I couldn’t get the picture out of my head of my sister over in your world. Trapped as a boy. Having to go through the things that you were over here.” She swallowed, wiping at the tears straining to leak over her eyelids. “And the more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.”

“Okay …” I said, wondering if she was going to get to her point anytime this evening.

“Well, when you started acting all weird while you were looking at yourself in the mirror, it made me think about Charlie looking at her new self. Then n you saw yourself in her panties … I sort of just lost it. All I could think of was the fact that my holier-than-thou big sister was probably sporting wood.” She frowned, looking up at me with still-damp eyes. “I really am sorry for laughing at you.”

I felt my heart soften as my icy rage simply melted away to steam. I sat down next to her, cognizant of the cool surface of the comforter against my naked butt.

“Okay,” I said softly. “I understand. It’s a lot to process. I’ve at least had a couple of hours’ head start.” A small grin formed on my face as I leaned over and bumped my shoulder lightly against hers. “I guess my reaction was pretty funny, wasn’t it?”

She waited a second and nodded. “A little. Which makes me a little jealous that your Katie is probably enjoying my sister’s predicament.”

I shrugged. “She might not even tell her. My Katie is a lot of things, but knowledgeable in how to be a guy isn’t one of them. More likely, Charlene will ask my Jackson for help.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Wait, you’re not, uh, gay, are you?”

I shook my head “Not in the least. Why?”

She sighed. “Because Charlene really loves Jackson. Like, seriously in love. I think it’s going to be hard on her to be around him.”

I put my hand on her knee. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. Jackson is my best friend. I’m positive he’ll look out for her while she’s over there.” I smiled at her, then gestured at the mirror. “So … shall we continue?”

She shook her head and stood up. “No. I think I should step out for a bit.”

I rose from the bed as well, my pulse quickening as my stomach did one of those rollercoaster level drops.

“I thought you were going to help me.”

“I am helping you, Charles.” She pointed at the mirror. “I’m leaving the room so you can do this at a pace that’s comfortable for you. Take an hour. Hell, take all night, if that’s what you need. My standing here staring at you, or laughing, isn’t going to make the process any easier.”

She smiled up at me. A genuine, warm smile that was just like my Katie.

I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Just remember,” she said as she reached out and put her hand on my bare shoulder. Her fingers were warm against my chilly flesh. “This is your body now, not hers. Maybe it’s only a temporary situation. Maybe it lasts longer than anyone expects. However, you’re not going to be able to make other people believe you’re Charlene unless you’re comfortable being Charlene.”

I stared at her for a moment, then flashed a tiny smile of my own.

“You’re awful wise for a sixteen-year-old, you know that?”

She laughed and walked toward the bedroom door.

“I have to be, Chuck. My older sister is a gorgeous, popular, smarty-pants who farts unicorn kisses and is head over heels for a lunatic who might very well be one of the most brilliant minds of the century.” She shrugged. “I’m sure your Katie is just as wise.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But I know she’s just as caring.”

Katie opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Before she closed it behind her, she turned back to look at me through the opening.

“When you’re ready for Stage Two, you know where my room is.” Then she closed the door, leaving me alone with my not-reflection.

For a few moments, I didn’t move. Partially because of the nagging voice in the recesses of my brain that focused on the finally spoken possibility that my time as a hot college cheerleader might not be as brief as I’d originally hoped.

I cut my eyes upward to the ceiling, as if I could peer through the plaster and wood over my head and gaze across the boundary that separated our universes.

“I really hope you’re having an easier time learning to be me,” I whispered, “Because I’m going to need all the luck I can get learning to be you.”

Slowly, I turned an approached the mirror. Even though the sight of myself in ladies’ underwear still struck me as completely unnatural, I had to admit one undeniable fact.

Charlene looked good in it.

Drawing in a breath, I turned to look at my profile. The butt I had originally envisioned as being larger than humanly possible, wasn’t really all that big. Sure, there was a noticeable curve, but it was obvious that all the exercise and such kept its size well under control. Hesitantly, I reached around and stabbed one of my fingers into the flesh.

“Firm,” I said as I turned even more around so that my chin was resting on my shoulder and nearly my entire rear was visible in the mirror. “But that butt-floss has got to go. I don’t care how good it looks.”

Turning back to face forward again, I bit down on my lower lip, then grabbed the bottom edge of the sports bra. Before I could start to second-guess myself, I pulled the stretchy fabric up over my head and let it drop to the floor next to the pants. My hands were securely pressed against my hips as I studied my naked torso.

Charlene’s breasts were a little larger than the constricting nature of the athletic top led me to believe. To a guy who’d never so much as had an ounce of flab across his chest, they seemed gigantic. However, the more I forced myself to be objective in my observation, the more I began to deduce that perhaps they were not the titanic stripper globes I feared. In fact, I dared think that perhaps they were about the same size as my mom’s. Guess Charlene inherited some of her physical characteristics from her.

Carefully, I pulled one hand off my hip and brought it up to gently cup one. Watching the action made me laugh at myself.

“I can’t remember how many times I’d answered the question ‘if you were a girl, what is the first thing you would do’ with ‘fondle my own boobs’.” I shook my head. “Now when the unthinkable has actually happened, I keep expecting to get my hand slapped.

The lump of fat and skin was semi-solid, with just enough squish and heft to warn me that it would be unwise to forgo support if I were going to do anything crazy, like gymnastics. Or walk at more than a brisk pace.

The areolas were darker than my male ones had been, and easily three times the size. Where my boy nipples barely extended an eight of an inch, the ones I currently sported were almost a full inch in length.

“All the better to suckle a child with,” I mumbled, then instantly regretted it.

Having achieved satisfaction that my new chest assets weren’t the horrible curse I’d feared, I went for the last hold out in my bodily exploration.

“Here goes nothing,” I said as I hooked my thumbs through the waistband of the panties and pushed them down to my knees. Still bent over, I let them drop to my ankles and carefully stepped out of them. When I stood upright again, I realized that my new pubic area perfectly resembled the pubic area of any of the few girls I’d actually seen naked.

From the way I was standing, the vaginal opening was almost invisible. Just a small line surrounded by a neatly trimmed patch of reddish-brown curls that informed me that the carpet did indeed match the drapes. The hair was shaved into a little patch about small triangular shape approximately an inch or so in length and around two inches wide at the top.

I felt no need to touch myself down there just yet. Not from any sort of fear or anxiety, but more from the fact that I was working on accepting my new body as mine. There would be plenty of time to touch and explore the plumbing when I got around to taking a shower.

“There,” I said to the girl looking back at me. “Not so bad, right? Before long, it won’t give me déjà vu to look at you.” I smiled at myself, actually liking the way the expression seemed to light up my face. As a guy, I generally leaned more toward smirking when I was amused, due to possessing a couple of crooked teeth. My parents had left the decision to get orthodontics up to me, and I’d declined the corrective measure.

Charlene, however, had obviously accepted and the result was a smile I had no doubt had put many a high school boy to swooning.

Running my fingers through my hair, I grimaced at the feeling of dried sweat and product. Turning around, I stepped into the closet and paused at the incredible amount of clothing options that lay before me.

Pants. Dresses. Skirts. Blouses. Sweaters. T-shirts. All meticulously organized by type, then by color. The fear that I would have to choose between gym attire and pretty pink princess evaporated like an ice cube in an oven. I had the feeling that I could avoid anything that showed my legs for the entire time I was stuck here, and no one would so much as bat an eye.

However, my main purpose for venturing into the walk-in closet waited for me on a hook next to the door. A large and fluffy white terrycloth robe. I’d spotted it earlier when Katie had opened the door. Just the perfect thing to put on for my trek to the bathroom.

I slipped my arms into the sleeves, sighing as the ultra-soft material caressed my sensitive new skin. Closing the folds over each other, I secured them with the belt, and turned back to the mirror. The robe fell to mid-thigh and the opening at the top was loose enough to reveal the deep cleft of my cleavage.

Reversing direction, I drifted across the room to the dresser and took inventory of the items within. The top drawer was full of underwear. Bras and panties in nearly every color and pattern. There was easily three dozen or more matched sets and another dozen of separates. However, as I lightly rummaged through them, I came to a horrifying realization: the number of panties that contained a full bottom numbered only five.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I grumbled. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Guess I was going to have to go shopping. Either that or get used to having a strip of fabric jammed in my crack.

The second drawer contained about a bajillion pairs of socks. As well as assorted stockings and hose. Despite my adamant stance that the more sheer items were going to collect dust while I was around, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching into the drawer and brushing my fingertips along the material.

As a guy, one of my greatest weaknesses when it came to women’s clothing was stockings. Even the most ordinary looking girl jumped several notches of hotness in my book if she was wearing hosiery. Something about nylon-clad legs always managed to trip my triggers and catch my attention.

Too bad for the guys in this universe, they wouldn’t be seeing Miss Charlene Miller’s hosed legs anytime in the foreseeable future.

The bottommost drawer held an assorted array of athletic apparel. Sweatpants, yoga pants, tights, shorts, sports bras, and tank tops. All of it serving to remind me that my normal exercise routine, which generally consisted of heavy duty stretching followed by a run, was going to have to be taken up a notch. Katie had mentioned an hour of exercise each morning. For starters.

If that was the case, I was sure me and the contents of the third drawer were going to be well acquainted.

I returned to the underwear storage and pulled out a matching set that didn’t seem to be too bad. The panties, despite being yet another thong, were a light peach color with a barely-there pattern of intricate swirls and loops in white. The accompanying bra was simplistic. With two cups, two shoulder straps, and a single back strap with a triple-eye hook fastener.

I’d removed one remarkably similar from Samantha a couple of times, but the best part was the fact that I could remember watching her put it back on afterwards. All I had to do was duplicate her and I’d be golden.

I turned the bra over in my hand, pulling on the small tag attached to one side of the back strap. 36-C. Okay, well at least I knew how big I was. Not that I had anything to compare it to. As a guy, the only measurement of boobs to which I subscribed was “flat”, “nice”, “big”, “wow”, and “dear god”.

One thing for sure, I was going to come out of this experience a lot less chauvinistic than I started.

Tossing the undergarments on the bed, I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Turning left would take me to the bathroom Charlene likely shared with Katie. Turning right would bring me to Katie’s room. As much as I felt like I really needed to get cleaned up, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to pop in and let my confidante know that I was making fairly good progress.

As far as I was concerned.

I stopped outside her partially-closed door. Considering the state of undress she’d been in the last time I just barged inside, I thought knocking might be required. Lifting my hand, I rapped lightly on the frame with my knuckles.

“Come in.” Her voice was barely audible.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Katie sat on the bed, with a thin book open on her lap and a red ballpoint pen in her hand. She glanced up at me, her eyes swooping up and down over my towel-clad form.

“I guess you finally got down to your birthday suit, huh?”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything. There was a strangeness to her voice. A softness that had an undertone of worry in it. Did she think my idea too far-fetched? Had she retreated, not to give me space as she’d claimed, but to get away because what I was asking her was impossible? Was the plan of living as her sister doomed from the start?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a step closer.

She sighed. “I was sitting here, you know, while you were exploring yourself. Trying to make a list of the things we should focus on first. The things that all us girls already know that any boy, not just one trying to be Charlene, should know.”

I nodded. Her plan made sense. “Like putting on makeup? Coordinating outfits? Sitting properly?”

Her blonde head bobbed once in agreement.

“So, again, what’s wrong?”

“I started the list, but then got sidetracked with the more, uh, biological aspects of being female. Things that guys have zero experience with.”

“Like, sitting down to pee?”

She shook her head as her fingers curled around the edges of the book on her laps. Now that I was closer, I realized that it wasn’t a book, actually. It was a monthly planner. Five consecutive days were denoted with big red “X” s.

“No,” she said, looking down at the calendar. “It was the other biological process that sprang to mind.”

My blood turned to ice water. I had refused to let myself think of that particular function of being in a young, fertile, feminine body. Perhaps on some level, I clung to the hope that Jackson would find a way to send me back home before that day came. Now, looking at the expression on Katie’s face, I knew without question that wasn’t going to happen.

“How …” my voice caught in my throat. “How long do I have?”

Yes, it sounded ridiculous. As if I were asking my oncologist when I was going to die. Rather than simply inquiring as to when Charlene’s monthly visitor was due to arrive.

Katie’s gaze practically dripped with sympathy.

“Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your view, Charlene’s cycle is fairly regular. Not all of us are that lucky.”

I drew in a deep breath and held it for a second, fighting against the urge to scream.

“How long?” I asked again.

“Three days.”