Jake

The first thing that struck me was the smell. Not the usual sweet scent, but a sharp, tart trail of cologne. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, trying to push away this intrusive little world, but it was everywhere—on the pillow, on the blanket, in the very air I breathed.
I reached up to rub my sleepy eyes and felt an unfamiliar heaviness in my muscles. The hands were too large, the palms rough and strong. Anxiety, sharp and chilling, gripped my chest. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
Above my head wasn't my white ceiling with the butterfly chandelier, but gray plaster. I glanced around. The room was foreign, ascetic and boring. Bare walls, if not for a worn-out poster of some loud rock band that I had always hated. On the desk—a pile of textbooks, scattered parts from some mechanism, and an empty soda can. This was his room. Jake's room. The same guy who had pushed me with such contempt in the school hallway yesterday, tossing over his shoulder: "Watch where you're going."
Panic, hot and uncontrollable, hammered in my temples. No. It can't be. This is the worst nightmare.
My hand—no, his hand—reached on its own for the nightstand, where a foreign smartphone lay. I grabbed it frantically. The screen was locked. A blind guess made me press my thumb to the scanner. Unlocked.
A call flashed on the screen; I picked up:
This is Jake. Don't laugh, don't panic, and don't hang up. You won't believe this. I woke up today—and everything around me is pink. Those stupid floral wallpapers, everything is sickeningly cute... And when I went to wash up, I saw YOU IN YOUR MIRROR.
At first, I thought it was nonsense, a nightmare. But no. This is your body. Which means somewhere out there, in MINE, you're sitting.
Listen up and remember. You're in my apartment right now. Don't touch my things. Don't go into the bottom drawer of the desk. And don't talk to ANYONE—especially not my friends. One wrong move, and we're both screwed.
We meet today at 17:00 by the old garages behind the school. You know where that is. Come alone. And look... like I usually look. Dammit.