I Flushed The Return Ticket

Summary

On my twentieth birthday, my supposed best friend gave me a bottle of perfume.

She was notoriously cheap, so seeing her hand over a designer bottle with a price tag that required a payment plan took me by surprise.

I was just about to spritz it on my wrists when a stream of glowing, scrolling text suddenly materialized in the air before my eyes, like a glitch in the universe.

The floating text said this was a magic perfume. It said my best friend wanted to use it to swap bodies with me, to steal my life, and to get her hands on my incredibly wealthy boyfriend.