He just needed the remote.
It took him a few minutes, but he was finally able to find it under the end table. It was a tight squeeze but with a little stretching, he pulled out the device. He quickly positioned himself in front of the Television, which was still on and showing an infomercial for some allergy medication. With a deep breath, he pointed the remote toward the little black box and clicked the button.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, still nothing.
Confused, he looked at the tiny device in his hand. Looking at the LCD screen, he could see that it read STANDARD in tiny 8-bit letters.
Interesting. When he had it last, it was on ADULT, but she likely changed it back at some point. He clicked the arrows until it was on ADULT once again and hit ENTER.
A sudden pulse of energy rippled across his skin, startling Scottie enough to close his eyes. Then, a second later, it was all gone, with just a slowly diminishing tingle of static electricity. Risking the worst, Scottie slowly opened one eye.
He stood in his living room surrounded by the pile of boxes, opened, and papers were strewn out everywhere, just as it all had been mere moments before.
“I don’t get it,” Scottie said to himself as he turned, looking all around the room. He was still in his house, nothing had changed. The same infomercial was playing, now listing the dozens upon dozens of side effects one may experience. Yup. Normal.
Cautiously, he raised the black box remote and clicked the ENTER button. Nothing happened. Nothing changed at all. When he looked at the remote in his hands, all appeared normal there too.
“Shit,” he said. “Did I break it?” he asked looking around the room. No one responded.
Yet, as his vision passed the mantel, he noted his reflection in a mirror. The hairs on his head were all standing on end.
Scottie slowly approached the reflection, mouth agape as he brushed his hand through the short locks. It was as if an invisible balloon was just above him causing all his follicles to stand upward. Yet, as the seconds ticked by, they fell and the tingle was no more.
For the first time, he saw his red cheek. A very light outline of Hannah’s hand still was visible from her slap. His lip was slightly cut and a small dollop of blood was on his lip. He set the remote on the mantel and touched his lip, wincing at the stinging pain.
“Oh shit, Scottie. I got you good, didn’t I?”
He looked over to the source of the sound and found Hannah at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the banister and the other on her hip. She had changed back into her leggings and v-neck t-shirt. To Scottie, the pants seemed just a little tighter while the shirt was a little looser, or maybe it was his imagination sexualizing everything in the last twenty-four hours.
“Yeah,” he said trying not to look her all over. There was a slight redness to her cheeks, a slight fidget to her stance. “Are you… How are you feeling?” he asked.
She took a deep breath.
“Better,” she said. “I think. It’s been a weird couple of days, right?”