Disclaimer: You know, I've tried and tried to persuade Disney to let me own Mighty Ducks… but they're not budging. So, as of now, I don't own them. Nor do I own the companies of Seventeen Magazine and Dooney & Burke. I only own Becky and the spoiled brat that she is.

You know those really long days? The ones that never seem to end? And whenever you look at the clock and you think at least 20 minutes has passed, it's only 5 minutes later from when you last looked? That's definitely the kind of day I'm having.

Here I am, sitting in the last period of the day – which happens to be Spanish, which I happen to suck at… who learns Spanish anymore? French, mes amis, is way more useful. Especially when you go to Paris for fashion week every year.

ANYWAYS, when the bell finally rings (after about 50 or so hours of school), I have no problem offending the teacher by sighing with relief and scuttling my butt (which, I've noticed throughout the day, to be rather…well-rounded) out of the classroom and back to my dorm. I must admit, though, school wasn't all that bad. Albeit, there were too many classes and they were much too long… I didn't mind learning new stuff like that. It was quite interesting, in fact.

…Okay. Some sort of permanent transformation must be going on. Because, would Becky Conners really say that? Yeah. Didn't think so.

After jogging up the stairs in my dorm building, not only am I surprised to see I'm not out of breath, but I'm surprised that I actually remember which room is mine! I sling my book bag over the computer chair and sit down, turning on the slightly old-ish computer. It's not my iBook or anything, but it'll do for now. Excitedly, I go to Seventeen dot comand wait for hours for the page to load.

Yay! My spread is up! My cover picture! My…horrendous, unprofessional, ugly, amateur, did-I-mention-HORRENDOUS picture! What happened? I ask myself, gulping and absentmindedly biting my nails.

Waaaaaaait just one minute. I didn't even do this shoot. It was Adam. Must have been. Who else could look this bad? I mean, he is a hockey player after all. They have absolutely no poise nor stature. It's disgusting.

Just then, a cell phone starts ringing. I look around cautiously, trying to identify its location. I search in a pocket of a pair of dirty jeans and come out successful. I hesitantly answer it, but try to sound cool at the same time (when really, I'm laughing on the inside because of how huge this nasty flip phone is. Hello? Who DOESN'T have a Razr?)

"…Hello?" I ask it, sitting at the edge of my bed. Not at all am I surprised when an annoying, high-pitched voice spurts out immediately.

"ADAM! What's up with you? You didn't talk to me at all today! You didn't even sit with me at lunch! You know… you're acting different lately. I don't want to do this to you, but I think we should break up. Sorry."

The biggest smile ever comes over my face. Can you believe this luck? SHE is breaking up with ME… or HIM. Or whoever!

"Oh, that's okay. There was kind of this other girl anyways. Bye." I say in one breath before slamming the phone shut and throwing it by my pillow.

I wasn't lying, per se, just… improving the truth. There was kind of another girl.

Me. Or Adam. Or whoever!

My hands are nervously shaking the entire 1.5 hour ride to Eden Hall, my school, my home, my comfort zone. But, once I get there, what am I going to do? Go to the front office and ask for Adam Banks?

Well, actually…

"Uhm, hi. May I please see one of your students? His name is Adam Banks." I say quietly to Miss Perkins, the school secretary. "It's kind of urgent."

Miss Perkins gives me the weirdest, most awkward look possible before picking up a nearby phone and dialing three numbers – 223 – yes! My dorm room!

I sigh happily and step back, looking around the office. I jump back a little when I notice a mini-swarm of people peeking in through the windows. One of them being Connie. I almost smiled and waved to her, but I'm actually getting used to the fact that I am not Adam Banks.

Wait, Connie knows who Becky Conners is and is actually excited to see her? Oh my lord, she better not own her movies or CDs. Intervention time might be drawing near…

"Miss Conners?" I hear before immediately turning around. "Mr. Banks is on his way." Miss Perkins explains, the phone still held to her ear.

"No, that's okay. I'll go to him." I say, smiling, and rushing out before she can ask any questions.

'Hmmm… that's funny.' I ponder to myself, hanging up the phone and gazing out the foggy, frost covered window onto the still perfectly perfect snow-covered courtyard. 'Who would want to see Adam Banks?' I shrug and turn away, plopping back down on my bed.

Just then, a small knock reverberates through my room and I stand up, striding over to open it. And once I do, I kind of wish that I never had.

"It's YOU! Or…ME!" I gasp, my voice not going near as high as I want it to. You know, for that surprised effect?

"And it's ME! Or…YOU!" Becky/Adam squeaks back. Now that's more like it. You have to get it up real nice and high.

"Okay, wait." I say, holding up my rough, unmoisturized hand. "I will be Adam. You will be Becky." I say firstly. "Just so no one else gets confused. Okay. Proceed. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Uh, I've come to get my body back!" Becky replies, putting her nice manicured hands on her hips. "What am I wearing? It looks like you spent 10 minutes OR MORE picking that out!"

I whistle and rock back and forth on my feet, twiddling my thumbs behind my back. "Now, is that really what matters right now? What matters is how did we get this way?" I asked, smoothly changing the subject. Besides, I didn't even mention what he dressed ME in. Those UGGs are definitely LAST winter.

"Beats me… the last thing I remember is from practice on Friday. I was complaining to Dwayne about not noticing that I was open and could have easily scored… then I wished someone would notice for at least one day… then I got checked. Pretty badly." Becky walked inside, throwing the, must I say expensive, Dooney & Burke purse onto the bed. "Then I woke up with Mr. Mafia and bunch of other people hovering over me. And I was you."

"Awh, Benny. How I miss him." I sigh nostalgically, gazing out the window once more. "Anyways, here's what I remember. I was doing a photo shoot for Seventeen – we'll talk about that LATER Mr. I-can-never-ever-make-it-as-a-model – and I didn't want to because it was Friday the 13th and I'm superstitious. Then, Benny - did I mention how much I miss him - was getting mad at me and I wanted to be normal for just one day. Then I got hit in the head with a wooden beam and I woke up as you. With all these smelly hockey players hovering over me."

"So, are you saying that this was, like, magic or something? Like that movie with Lindsay Lohan?" Becky asked, looking just a tad skeptical.

"Lindsay! I haven't talked to her in ages. I wonder whatever happened to that…" I ask myself, but stop because of the annoyed look on Becky's face. "Yeah. Sorry. I guess that's it? There's really no other explanation for it."

"So… what now?"

"Heck if I know. I didn't find any piece of paper with a strange incantation on it that I thought might be useful later in life." I shrugged, stuffing my hands in my pockets all boy-like. "But, can I tell you something without you getting offended?"

Becky shrugged her blue, cap-sleeved clad shoulders lightly.

"You, as in me, as in Adam Banks… is pretty hot. Just thought I'd put it out there."

"Uh… thanks." Becky replied, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. Then, a light bulb turned on above her head and she looked up at me. "LACI!"

"Don't worry. It's taken care of. She broke up with me…you…us this afternoon. So, Laci and Adam Banks? Splitsville. Dunzo." I answered, smirking rather smugly.

Becky's face turned immensely angry and sad, but after a while, it calmed down and turned into a nice, bright, happy expression.

"Actually, that helps me out a lot. I was planning on breaking up soon." She shrugged and sat down on the bed, smoothing the covers down.

Then, breaking the awkward silence, coming to save the day, Charlie burst in all hot and out of breath. "ADAM! HAVE YOU HEARD! BECKY CONNERS IS HERE!" He said, glancing at the picture of her on his desk.

"…And definitely in this room." I reply, eyeing myself sitting on the bed.

Charlie's eyes did this weird little ditty where they kind of rolled back into his head. Then he hit the ground.

Yeah, I doubt anyone will be reading this. But, I got a request from pipsqweek91 to update after about 6 months. So, here I am! Updating! Woot woot.

Anyways, glad you liked it pipsqweek. May I call you Pippi? Glad you liked it Pippi. This update is especially for you. And I hope it doesn't disappoint you!