After Top Student and Delinquent Swap Bodies, Life Peaks

I was the top student at an elite college-prep high school, and I'd won the highest honors in three national top-tier competitions.

Guaranteed Ivy League admission was a done deal.

But after one physical touch, I swapped souls with a morally corrupt underachiever.

Rebecca Morton stood in front of me, wearing my face with an utterly contemptuous smile.

"Margaret Cox, you only became a top student because you got stuck with professor parents, didn't you?"

"Let me tell you, this body swap is something I traded a whole lifetime of poverty and hardship for, and it's permanent."

"From now on, your honors, your eight-thousand-a-month allowance, and your guaranteed Ivy League spot are all mine!"

"You can live out a life of poverty in my place!"

I looked at the face I'd been staring at for seventeen years, and suddenly I smiled.

Nobody knew that the academic star everyone envied was scraping by on four hours of sleep a night.

I started learning English at three, and one word memorized wrong earned me a beating.

I started advanced math at five, and one problem wrong meant copying it out a hundred times.

I started programming at seven, and one wrong line of code meant rewriting it all night long.

Even my eight-thousand allowance was tied to my studies.

One wrong answer, minus a hundred; one point lower, minus two thousand; and if I didn't rank first in the grade, my allowance was gone entirely.

Then I'd be eating plain bread and pickles for a month.

My parents were harsher on me than wardens on a prison inmate.

What they gave me was never talent it was fear.

This is the life she wants?

Fine.

Those twisted parents, and that hell of a home.

She can bear it all in my place!

01

Working from Rebecca's memories, I quickly made my way back to her home.

When I pushed the door open, it wasn't the dirty, messy place I'd imagined.

The living room was smaller than the storage room in my house, with a round table barely big enough to seat three.

Not like my dining table at home six feet long, one person to a side, as if we were forever separated by a battle line.

On the wall hung a photo of the three of them, her parents smiling sweetly, their arms wrapped tight around Rebecca's shoulders.

On our wall at home, all that hung were the award certificates of the three of us.

I couldn't help the tears that fell.

So nice.

No piano, no violin, no dance studio.

Not even a single book.

I wouldn't have to stay up all night grinding through practice problems to earn my allowance.

I wouldn't have to practice piano, practice dance, or come in first just to please someone.

Rebecca's mother came out carrying a bowl of soup. When she saw my tear-streaked face, her grip slipped, and the scalding soup splashed onto her hand, turning it red in an instant.

But she paid no mind to the pain and hurried to pull me down into a seat.

"What's the matter? Is the teacher calling parents in again? It's all right. If you can't get into college, then you don't. You can make a living doing anything."

My hand froze.

I had never known a mother's hands could be so warm and dry.

My own mother, to train me to be independent, had never held my hand again after I turned five.

If my parents ever got called in, all that waited for me was a beating from both of them and double the punishment.

Not like Rebecca's mother, who panicked and burned her hand just from seeing her daughter cry.

I gently blew on her scalded, reddened hand, my tears flowing harder and harder.

"Mom, does it hurt?"

My mom's head shot up, her eyes going red.

"Becca's grown up she knows to care about her mother now."

She wiped her tears away.

"Mom's fine. And don't you listen to that idle gossip. So what if you're slow? Fools have their own kind of luck."

A warm current surged up in my chest and lodged in my throat.

What others saw as a flaw, Rebecca's mother treasured.

And yet Rebecca had thrown it away like garbage.

And that very thing she scorned was exactly what I had longed for and never had.

Back in Rebecca's room, it was full of all kinds of plush toys and figurines.

Some were limited editions, ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand.

Rebecca's parents were just ordinary working-class people, but they scrimped and saved to indulge their daughter's tastes.

My room, on the other hand, held nothing but books and exam papers.

When I was little, I secretly used my pocket money to buy a SpongeBob doll, and my mom cut it to shreds right in front of me.

After that, nothing to do with "play" ever appeared in my room again.

My phone buzzed. It was Rebecca.

She'd sent a video call request.

I answered.

That familiar face appeared on the screen.

She was wearing the couture gown my mom had just bought me, smiling smugly at the camera.

"Margaret Cox, your parents are about to take me to a banquet. Joshua Sanchez, the campus heartthrob everyone says is the perfect match for you, is going too."

She plopped down on my soft, big bed and bounced on it hard.

"So soft. How's that? You getting used to my little wooden bed?"

"Margaret Cox, aren't you about to lose it?"

I looked at her calmly.

"It's good."

"Good?"

Rebecca froze for a moment, then laughed even harder.

"What are you putting on airs for? Margaret Cox, do you know what I hate most about you? That look, always so high and mighty, always so above it all, wanting nothing. So fake!"

"There's no point pretending. You'll always be under my heel."

After the call ended, I laid my hand on the small bed.

Not soft, but solid, dependable.

I glanced at the time. Nine o'clock at night.

I got into bed and turned off the light.

So what if that big bed was soft?

I never lay on it more than four hours a day.

Lying on the narrow little bed, my eyes slowly welled up.

This was the first time since I was three that I'd gone to bed this early.

The next morning I got up at six, two hours later than usual.

On the table were the hash browns my own parents had never once let me eat.

Mrs. Morton dunked the hash browns in the orange juice and pushed them in front of me.

"Becca, this is your favorite way to eat them. Go on, eat up, and then your dad will take you to school."

It was the first time I'd ever eaten hash browns and orange juice this way. The hash browns had soaked up the juice, soft and savory.

After breakfast, Mr. Morton drove me on his little scooter.

As far back as I could remember, my own parents had never taken me to school themselves. They always had one more research project, one more business trip.

Once a teacher had actually assumed our driver was my father.

Now, sitting on the back of the scooter, all I had to do was open my eyes and I could see Mr. Morton's broad shoulders.

In that moment, for the first time, I felt like a kid.

At the school gate, Mr. Morton pressed a crumpled twenty-dollar bill into my hand.

"Becca, buy whatever you want for lunch, don't skimp. If you don't get something, don't force yourself to learn it. As long as you're healthy, that's all that matters."

I nearly cried.

Allowance with no KPIs attached. No tightening headband of "you must be number one."

Twenty dollars felt heavier than the eight thousand that used to hang over my head.

Rebecca climbed out of the Mercedes and strutted over to me, chin high.

"Well, well. Came on a little scooter? How'd that feel?"

"Wasn't a room with no AC and no private bathroom just disgusting?"

I glanced at her. The skin under her eyes was clearly dark and bluishobviously she hadn't slept enough.

I smiled. "Four hourswas that enough sleep?"

Her face went stiff and she glared at me hard. "So what if I can't sleep in a strange bed?"

With that she stuck out her neck and stalked off.

Sitting in Rebecca's seat, I flipped through the textbook.

A true underachiever's book, all rightcleaner than a brand-new one.

Rebecca and I had swapped souls, and our brains had swapped too. Not one bit of the knowledge I'd learned before had come with me.

Rebecca's foundation really was terrible. The only reason she'd gotten into an elite college-prep high school was that her parents had thrown money at it.

They only wanted her to get into a good university.

But instead of working, she racked her brain over cozying up to rich kids and poured all her energy into her looks.

When she ran short of money she conned her family for tutoring fees, stole her classmates' cosmetics, ranked dead last every single year, and had a reputation that stank for miles.

With less than a year until the SATs, getting into the university she wanted was no easy thing.

I couldn't understand a lot of what the teacher was saying, so all I could do was take careful notes.

At the break I borrowed the class rep's notes to copy. Rebecca walked over and looked down at me.

"Ooh, everybody come look! The underachiever's studying now? Who are you kidding with this hard-work act? You even understand functions?"

Snickers broke out around us.

A few classmates who usually lumped themselves in with me as the good students spoke up scornfully.

"Rebecca, you've got a screw loose. Studying won't help you. Don't waste your life."

"No matter how hard you try, you're a joke. If you get into college, I'll walk backwards."

"She always used to try to keep up with the top students. They took piano, so she took piano; they danced, so she danceddrove her parents into picking through trash, and she never learned a thing."

"Too funny. Not pretty, not smart, and poor on top of itwhat does she have to compete with the top students?"

I didn't argue. These were all facts Rebecca had made true in the past.

I kept my head down and went on copying. Then Rebecca slammed her hand down on the notebook, her tone insolent.

"Can't you understand plain words? I told you to quit studying. Your brain's dumber than a pig's. Stop embarrassing the whole class!"

With that she ripped out the notes I'd copied, tore them to shreds, and flung them in my face.

"Quit the show. People like you only belong rotting in the mud. You'll never claw your way up!"

When she finished, the classroom went silent.

I looked at her long and hard, and said nothing.

She seemed to feel the stunned stares around her too, and for a second panic flickered across her face.

You can change a person's face, you can change their figure, but you can't change what's in their bones.

She thought that putting on my skin made her me. She was used to throwing her weight around, and this was just her instinct showing.

Joshua's brow furrowed, and the way he looked at me was different from before.

Rebecca gave herself an out.

"Fine, fine, let her study if she wants. It's not like it embarrasses me. Lunch is on me, everybodyorder whatever you want from the cafeteria."

A classmate chimed in at once. "The top student gets eight thousand a month for allowance and never once treated us. Going all out today, so we've got to show up for her!"

Amid the cheering, Rebecca was carried out of the classroom like a star surrounded by her admirers.

I watched her smug back and smiled.

She thought that eight-thousand allowance was hers to spend however she liked.

I hoped she'd still be able to laugh in a little while.

In the cafeteria, the whole class was reveling like it was a carnival, ordering everythingfried chicken drumsticks, braised pork belly, all the dishes they usually couldn't bring themselves to buy.

Rebecca stood in front of the serving window and waved her hand grandly. "Take whatever you want, don't be shy with me. Buy a plate and dump a plateI've got money!"

When she saw me, she automatically had them shut me out.

"I'm not treating some fake-effort show-off. I don't want to catch her bad luck."

A classmate chimed in.

"Exactly. The top student is treating, so certain people shouldn't come mooch off her. They should take a look at whether they even deserve it."

I ignored her, bought a ten-dollar boxed lunch, and sat down in a corner.

Quiet murmurs drifted around me.

"What's up with her today? She always gets the top setup, two meats and two veggies. Why is it all vegetables today?"

"No matter how much she puts on airs, she can't change that dirt-poor look. Her parents are just trash pickers. Can they really keep spoiling her forever?"

I kept my head down and ate, saying nothing.

Over the cafeteria's noise, Rebecca's voice was especially grating, surrounded by people praising her guaranteed Ivy League admission.

As if this were her college send-off party.

Charge after charge went through, and before anyone had even eaten, my motherthe great Professor Matthewscalled.

"Margaret Cox, did you eat an elephant? You spent over two thousand?"

Rebecca's smile froze, and she quickly cupped the mouthpiece.

"Mom, I'm treating my classmates..."

"Why are you treating classmates to a meal? Who gave you permission? If you don't get number one in the whole school on the monthly exam, your entire eight-thousand-dollar allowance gets cut offdo you understand?"

Rebecca's face went pale, then flushed, but she forced a smile and lowered her voice.

"Mom, I promise I'll be number one in the whole school on the monthly exam. Just this once, please..."

There was a long silence on the other end, and then four words dropped.

"Don't let it happen again!"

The students all looked at her. "Margaret, didn't you say order whatever we want? Did your mom yell at you?"

Rebecca forced out a smile. "No, my mom's just afraid I'll get scammed. Everyone keep eating, don't hold back, we have to enjoy ourselves today."

Some bootlicker said, "When the top student says her treat, it's her treat. A future Ivy League geniuswhat's a little money to her?"

Flattered, Rebecca got carried away again and smugly mouthed a taunt at me.

"Don't think you'll get to watch me fail. Number one in the whole schoolit's mine, no one else's."

That night at home, I studied late by lamplight.

I started from the first-year textbooks. Even though the knowledge in my head hadn't come over with me,

the study habits and efficient methods I'd built up since childhood were still there.

They helped my catch-up work enormously.

Mr. and Mrs. Morton came in three or four times, bringing fruit and milk.

They wanted to ask something but didn't dare.

I looked up at them.

"Dad, Mom, I want to give it a real try."

Mrs. Morton's eyes reddened instantly.

Back when she used to push Rebecca to study, she had cried, made scenes, and pleaded.

But Rebecca just wouldn't study, and the tens of thousands in tuition every year were wasted.

She came in and stroked my head.

"Becca, don't study too late. As long as you're healthy and well, that's enough for us. Don't wear yourself out."

Mr. Morton nodded beside her. "Becca, don't push yourself too hard. Whether or not you get into college, you're still our daughter. We'd never treat you as something to brag about to other people."

My chest took a hard blow.

My own parents had never said anything like that. My birth was only ever their assignment.

Between me and them, there were only ever grades, rankings, and awards.

So it turned out this body's parents loved her far more than I had imagined.

Rebecca, how could you bear to treat parents who love you this much this way?

I fought back the sting in my nose and softly answered, "Okay."

At eleven o'clock, I got into bed right on time.

For someone like me, who for years has gone to sleep at one in the morning, going to bed at eleven was pure luxury.

For the next month, I went to class during the day and studied at home every night.

Seeing me push myself this hard, Mr. and Mrs. Morton cooked me something delicious in a new style every day.

Rebecca, coasting on the knowledge still stored in this brain, slept through class and vanished the moment the bell rang.

The top student who used to nail herself to her desk every single day now, when she went wild, wouldn't even do her homework.

The top student's parents got called in for the first time, and when my mom came out, her face was so dark it was unbearable to look at.

The next day, Rebecca showed up at school with heavy dark circles under her eyes.

I knew she must have been made to copy her homework a hundred times, up all night.

After I started junior high, I never got this kind of punishment again.

This was the first time I'd ever seen myself like this, as an outsider.

There was no gloating, only the sorrow of one sufferer pitying another.

And my hard work finally started to show.

Before, I could only guess a third of the questions right on a paper at most; now, I could already get half of them right.

The other students all talked about it behind their backs.

"Is Rebecca really working this hard to compete with Margaret Cox?"

"What are you thinking? At her level, even a top student who didn't study for a whole year would still leave her ten streets behind."

"So what? Gaining one point still counts as improvement, but she's not getting out of dead last."

Someone turned the topic straight to Rebecca.

"What do you think, top student?"

Rebecca seemed pretty confident in her own pig brain and didn't take me seriously at all.

Still, after being punished, she'd toned down her talk quite a bit.

"Let's stick to encouragement, everyone. Her being willing to study is the biggest progress there is."

"But studying isn't about rote memorization. Don't wear yourself out trying to catch up to me."

The classroom broke into laughter.

"Catch up to you? How? You two are worlds apart, one in the sky, one on the ground, a hundred thousand miles apart. Not even a rocket could catch you."

"Top student, you're too modest. If she could really catch up to you, the sun would rise in the west."

Rebecca smiled smugly. "Don't be so hard on Rebecca either. How about this: if Rebecca closes the gap between her ranking and mine by ten places this time, I'll treat the whole class to the Ocean King 999 seafood buffet. How's that?"

Everyone jeered.

"Top student, you're not being sincere about treating us. She's a hundred points behind even the second-to-last kid. Moving up one place is a struggle, let alone ten. She'd have to cheat!"

"Exactly, that's not fair. If we're betting, everyone bets. If Rebecca doesn't move up ten places, then the Ocean King 999 seafood buffet is on her!"

Someone jumped in right away.

"Agreed!"

"Agreed, plus one."

"Rebecca, don't chicken out. You brave enough to bet?"

All eyes turned to me. Rebecca watched me at her leisure, the mockery at the corner of her mouth completely undisguised.

I nodded. "Fine, but I want to add a condition."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "What condition?"

I looked at her and said slowly, "If you don't take first place in the whole school, you apologize to me in public and admit you're a pig brain."

Her face changed, and she glared at me coldly.

"Fine, I agree. But if I take first place in the whole school, you have to kneel down and kowtow to me and bark like a dog in public."

The classroom broke into an uproar.

"This is so exciting. I can't wait to watch someone bark like a dog."

"The top student takes first in the whole school like it's nothing. Rebecca's just asking for it."

"Thanks to Rebecca's pig brain, now we've got a good show to watch."

I didn't say a word. I just quietly worked through practice problems.

Soon it was the day of the monthly exam. When I walked into the exam room, Rebecca was still chatting and laughing with people at the door. When she saw me, she deliberately raised her voice.

"Certain people had better not bomb too badly. Raising your score by more than two hundred points isn't something you can pull off just by grinding a few practice sheets."

"Or just skip the exam. For old times' sake as classmates, kowtow and bark like a dog right now, and I'll cover your seafood buffet."

The students howled with laughter.

I ignored them and walked straight to my seat.

The first exam was the language section, and I filled in as much as I could, turning my paper in last.

The second exam was English, and I checked it over and over to make sure every blank was filled.

When I handed it in, the proctor glanced at me.

The next day was the math exam. I filled five sheets of scratch paper and turned mine in with a minute to spare.

Rebecca, on the other hand, was the first to hand in her paper every single time.

Even the proctors couldn't help praising me. "Margaret Cox is as steady as ever."

In the days waiting for the results, my classmates had already picked the spot where I'd kneel and apologizeright in front of the athletic field's platform.

They'd even made a banner that read, "Rebecca Barks Like a Dog, Live."

They'd even started reserving spots at the seafood buffet, ready to bleed me dry.

On the day the results were announced, the grade sheet was posted to the class group.

Nobody looked at their own grades; the whole class went straight to check my ranking.

"Scroll down further, she's definitely dead last."

"Holy crap, she's not dead last?"

"Not second-to-last or third-to-last either, she did this well?"

"Relax, she moved up five places tops. This seafood buffet is on her for sure."

Even down to tenth from the bottom, my name still wasn't there, and the class couldn't sit still anymore.

"What's going on? Her grade didn't get thrown out, did it?"

"Here, I see it, thirty-seventh place..."

The classroom went silent in an instant.

A full five seconds passed before someone cried out.

"Thirty-seventh place? She jumped a whole fifteen spots?"

Rebecca's face had already gone pale.

"Looks like she won't be treating us to the seafood buffet. But what about barking like a dog? The top student's got to be number one in the whole school."

Just then, someone shouted, "The school rankings are out!"