Best Served Cold2:A Dish Served Cold free porn video

A Dish Served Cold By Bill Hart It was difficult for him to believe that a full decade had passed since the accident that resulted in his being confined to this wheelchair. Ten years was better than a third of his life, and Daryl Lindwell had hated every day he'd been required to sit in that damnable chair. Even now, it was still extremely difficult for him to conceive of ten years passing so quickly after that fateful football game against their crosstown rivals. Having been tackled hard, but he always thought cleanly, he suffered two broken vertebrae in his lower back, which resulted in paralysis from his waist down. But last night's high school Homecoming reunion had brought back all of those ugly memories he'd thought long buried. He had hated having all of his old friends see him in the chair, but there was nothing he could do to change it. That was a thought had that been drilled into him repeatedly over the first three years he'd spent in the chair. And after a while, he'd simply given up all hope of ever walking again. Some of his friends had wanted to talk about that game. Why, he could only guess. There had been 6:13 left in the third quarter, when the ball had been snapped. After the quarterback had handed the ball off to him, he'd spotted the hole and sprinted into the opening only to have it close almost immediately. The tackle had jarred him, and he'd felt a momentary fire in his back even as he heard the snapping of bones. Then all sensations vanished. And the next thing he'd remembered was waking in the hospital. He'd been surprised when he saw Michelle Dawson arrive alone. She'd always been a pretty girl, and she'd definitely grown into a beautiful woman. And yet somehow, she remained unmarried and apparently unattached. He remembered asking her to go the Homecoming dance the day before the accident. And she'd almost floored him when she had agreed to be his date. But, of course, that was all just something in what-might-of-been now. He hadn't been able to go. And he had never known if Michelle had gone without him. But he'd been even more surprised by Michelle's refusal to even speak to him last night. They'd been friends a long time and her silence and cool aloofness towards him had been the last thing he would have ever expected from her. She appeared to be angry with him. He wondered why. As the Homecoming dance was winding down, one of Michelle's girl friends had approached him to explain that Michelle had found out something about him and her cousin Rebecca Wilson. And now, for that reason, Michelle blamed him for her cousin's death. He wondered exactly what it was that Michelle thought she'd found out. It had been twelve years since Becky had killed herself. It couldn't be that Becky and he had broken up again about a week or so earlier. She'd known that then. Just as she knew that he had never seriously considered Becky his future life's partner. How many times had he told her that? At least once every time he and Becky had split up in the past. And their break ups had been so common that he'd lost count of their exact number. Could it have something to do with his knowing Becky longer than her. In fact, Becky had introduced him to her. Certainly that couldn't be it. But after all this time, he found it peculiar that anyone would think Becky had suicided because of something he had done, when no one had thought so before. However all of that was ancient history now. There was nothing he could do to bring Becky back from the dead. Nor was there likely anything he could do or say to Michelle that would change her new attitude towards him. They were both things over which he had absolutely no control, just like being in that damned chair for the rest of his life. Trying to forget the strange happenings of last night, Daryl focused his attention on the televised college football game on television. He couldn't help thinking aloud he could do better than what he was watching. "Shit." he swore. "If only the accident hadn't happened, I could be out there playing better than them right now." "Perhaps you still might." echoed an unknown voice in his mind. "That's impossible." Daryl grumbled not realizing he was still alone in his room. "I can't get out of this damn chair." "But still, my young friend." replied the unknown voice. "Many things thought impossible in one reality are not in all realities truly impossible at all." A short man entered his view from the shadows, appearing as if out of nowhere. "Who are you?" asked Daryl. "I'm a friend. One that has it in his power to help you." The short man smiled. "You may call me Morfus - Aloysius Morfus. But you, like all my other friends, may call me simply Al or perhaps A, whichever makes you feel most comfortable. It is your desire to walk away from that chair you sit in. Is it not?" "Yes. But how?" "Quite simple, my friend. We merely change the past. The accident you suffered in this reality will be erased from history, while something else replaces it to form a new reality. For practical purposes, it will be as if the accident _never_ occurred." "What's in it for you?" "Why nothing, my friend." replied Morfus. "I gain only the satisfaction of helping someone in need of the benefits I can provide." "That's bull!" exclaimed Daryl. "You can't fool me. Nobody helps anyone for nothing." "You are most astute, Daryl. But in this matter, let me assure you, I shall gain absolutely nothing from you. The fees for my services in this and related matters have already been charged and paid by someone who, among many other things, has the wish that you regain the use of your legs. You need only agree to my offer." "Who paid you?" "That, I'm afraid, like all of my transactions, must remain totally confidential. I'm sure you'll understand. You may choose to accept my services, or you may choose to decline them. The choice is yours, and yours alone. Whatever you choose makes little difference to me. I have been paid no matter what you wish to do. Remain in that chair, or walk again. As I said, the choice is yours." "I do want to walk again. I hate this chair." said Daryl. "But everyone's always said it was impossible for me to walk again." "That is true, my friend. In this reality, you will _never_ walk again. But, as I said earlier, it is in my power to alter this reality into a new one where the tackle that broke the bones in your leaving you paralysed never happened. As a result, that chair you profess to hate so much would, at least with respect to you, cease to exist. So what do you have to say, my young friend?" "Is there some kind of guarantee with this?" "There are no guarantees in life, Daryl." replied Morfus coolly. "But, in the spirit of good faith, let me say that I can assure you of a fine healthy body for the normal remainder of your natural life. It's the best 'guarantee' I can offer, my friend." Daryl smiled at the short man. He couldn't believe that he was going to regain the use of his legs. Could this short odd man really do what he said he could. But, even if it didn't work, he wouldn't be out anything, someone else was paying for his long hoped for miracle. "I accept, Mr. Morfus." "Excellent, my friend. You will never regret what you have done today." "What do I have to do?" "Just close your eyes, my friend." Daryl closed his eyes. In a moment, he felt a tap on his forehead, then he felt Morfus' hands rub softly across his temples. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and in mere seconds he had passed out. ***** When Daryl woke up, he was surprised at finding himself in bed in his room just as the sun was rising. But it was neither the room nor the bed he'd grown accustomed to over the past decade. Instead, he was in his bedroom at his parents' house, a place he hadn't slept a night since he'd moved out on his own. From his prone position, he scanned the room in awe, remembering things he hadn't thought about in many years. Without thinking, he turned over, then casually stretched his arms and legs. Suddenly it dawned on him that he had actually moved his legs for the first time in over a decade. Slowly he rose from his bed and soon stood on legs that easily supported his weight. "I'm whole again." he whispered to himself as he jumped up and down with joy. "That Morfus guy really came through, just like he said he would." And when Daryl walked into the bathroom, he could only gape at his reflection. "Shit. Not only am I whole, but I'm seventeen again. This is fucking great. What a great guy Morfus is." After a quick shower, Daryl joined his parents in the kitchen for breakfast. "Ready for the game against Westmont?" his father asked. "Of course, we'll beat them just like we always do." he replied smugly. "It's always fun to beat your crosstown rivals. This game won't be any different from any of the other Westmont games I've played in." "This will make four straight wins against them. That is, if you win. Won't it?" "It's not an if, dad. It's when." Suddenly Daryl shuddered. Four straight crosstown titles? Oh no, he thought. The upcoming game against Westmont was the game in which he'd been injured. It wasn't fair. He'd just got the use of his legs back. But didn't Morfus say things would be different? Wasn't this supposed to be a different reality? Maybe he wasn't going to be hurt this time. "Have you decided who you're taking to the Homecoming Dance, Daryl?" asked his mother. "I was thinking about asking Michelle Dawson to go with me. She's in the running for Homecoming Queen, but I don't think she has much of a chance of winning. The student elections for Homecoming Queen are generally huge popularity contests and Michelle isn't nearly as popular as Cindy Clanger. Michelle's certainly prettier than Cindy, but 'Clanger the Banger' uses everything she has to gain any advantage anyway she can." Daryl's father grinned, but his mother gave him that reproachful look of hers. But neither said another word, as they left him alone at the kitchen table. Sitting there, Daryl realized that today was the day before the accident. After school today, he was going to ask Michelle to go to the Homecoming Dance and she was going to accept. But if Morfus were right, something would happen differently this time. And if things were different, then maybe he and Michelle would make it, as a couple, to the dance. And wondering just how things might be different, Daryl left for school. ***** Daryl had more fun going to his classes then he could ever remember having before. And just about everything and everybody brought back memories. His first class was Mr. Ruehle's history class. The ancient standing gag was that old man Ruehle didn't teach history, he remembered it. And when he spoke of Washington's crossing of the Delaware that day, Daryl was certain it was recalled from first hand observation. Then he went to Miss Samples' English class. He had loved going to this class, when he been a student the first time around. And it wasn't because he particularly liked English. Instead it was because of his teacher Elizabeth Samples. This was her first year and she was only a few years older than the students in her class. And between being very pretty and those short skirts she always wore, Daryl had been surprised he'd learned any of the subject matter she'd taught. Then there had been the morning break. He wandered about the campus, looking at things he hadn't seen in years. After the break, he went to Geography taught by Mrs. Murphy. It was the only class he shared with Michelle, but he never had a chance to speak with her after class as their next classes were at opposite ends of the campus. Daryl took off for Wood Shop, while Michelle was off to her Thespian pursuits. He finished off the day with a period of Study Hall, followed by his gym class taught by one of the assistant football coaches, Mr. Hall. And as Daryl was heading for home, he ran into Michelle. "Hi, Michelle." "Hi, Daryl." she smiled. "I thought you had practice." both said to the other. "I do." said Michelle. "But I just told Mrs. Willis I wasn't feeling very good. I tried to call home but there wasn't anybody home." "I'm supposed to take my mother to her doctor's appointment. That's why Coach Hall let me off early today." said Daryl. He smiled knowing that the coach had bought the same excuse he used the last time he'd wanted out of practice. "I can take you home, if you'd like." "That would be wonderful." "Would you like to go to the homecoming dance with me Michelle." "I'd love too, Daryl." she replied. "Oh my. All of a sudden, I feel really dizzy." To steady herself, she put her arms about Daryl's waist. Seizing the opportunity, Daryl quickly put his arms around her and held her close. Then suddenly, he began to feel dizzy too. "It is the moment for the nexus of change, Daryl." spoke the voice of Morfus in his head. "What must be altered to prevent that which once passed from passing again must now be forever changed. And for a while, you will not recall our having met." Daryl's head spun. He began to feel very strange. Either Michelle was getting bigger or he was shrinking. Even worse, maybe both were happening. He held her tighter. As he did he swore her breasts were shrinking. Then all awareness of her presence disappeared. Wherever it was he found himself, he was now very much alone and frightened. A cool breeze suddenly whipped across his legs making him shiver. When he looked down to find out why he felt a breeze on his legs, he was shocked at the short skirt he was now wearing. Neither could he believe the smooth feminine legs that extended from that skirt down to the floor. In total disbelief, he moved his left hand down to the skirt he now wore. He felt felt first the smoothness of its fabric before moving his hand down to his equally smooth legs. And when he raised his hand back up holding it in front of his face, he stared at the long slender fingers even as his nails first lengthened, then darkened with red nail polish. Unconsciously, he raised his right hand up in order to compare it with his changed left hand. And while he looked on in disbelief, the fingers of his right hand narrowed as its nails grew longer and colored to become the perfect match of his left hand. Continuing to watch in awe, his hands shrank. Then, starting at his wrists and progressing steadily upward, he watched helplessly as his arms grew ever slimmer, as his muscular arms shrank slowly away. A sharp pain in his groin forced him to double over. As he slowly recovered, he felt the pull from the weight of the long hair he now possessed. He reached up, grabbed several strands with his slender fingers, and pulled gently. Incredibly, the hair was his. And then he stared, first at the fingers, then at the hair between them. As he straightened up, he was amazed at finding himself wearing a pullover sweater. It felt strange to feel the weight of the long hair that laid across his back, but seeing extend downward onto his sweater covered chest was an even stranger feeling. For a moment, he thought ... But it was too late. An itchy tingling feeling began spreading across his chest. And as he watched in baffled silence, two breasts began to swell under the sweater he now wore. Then as his dizziness slowly passed, the awareness of others around him also slowly returned. Without knowing why, he found himself standing with his arms wrapped tightly around the waist of some _boy_. And that boy was holding on just as tightly to him. Where was Michelle? Then he was stunned as he heard the boy ask, "Are you alright, Darla?" Darla??? What in hell was happening here? But in answering the boy, he could only shake his head weakly as if to say yes. As he did, he felt the drag of his long hair across his back and his breasts. His _breasts_??? He looked down to see the two large firm mounds of feminine flesh jutting out from under the sweater he was wearing. He realized that what had just happened to him hadn't been some weird dream after all. It had been real after all. "Well?" asked the boy. "Well what?" he replied, surprised at the softness of his new soprano voice. "Do you want to go to the Homecoming Dance with me, or not, Darla?" "Of course, I'd love to." Daryl was quickly taken aback by his response. Why had he agreed to a date with this boy? And making matters worse, he had no idea who this boy even was. "Would you mind taking me home now? I'm really not feeling very well." "Of course, Darla." ***** On the way home, Daryl wondered how he could ever explain being a girl named Darla to his parents. Hell, he couldn't even explain it to himself. But there was little denying that he'd left home this morning male and in some inexplicable manner he was female now. After the boy pulled up in front of his parent's house, he walked him up to the door. The boy gave him a warm hug him, then gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Mentally Daryl was stunned by this turn turn of events, but physically his body had apparently enjoyed the experience. "Take care of yourself, Darla." he told him. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow if I don't see you at school. Okay." "Sure. I guess." he answered not really knowing what he should say to this stranger. He fumbled in his purse for the key. "Hi, honey." said his mother when he finally opened the door. "You're home early, aren't you? I thought you had cheerleader practice today for tomorrow's big game." Cheerleader practice??? "I wasn't feeling too good, mom, so I came home instead." There was certainly no lie about that. "Did you let Mrs. Willis know you were coming home, dear?" "Of course." he replied. "And did Mike bring you home?" Mike??? He didn't have the slightest idea who this Mike was, but his mother had expected him to bring him home, so he shook his head to indicate a yes. His mother felt his forehead. "You don't feel warm, dear. But to be on the safe side, why don't you go to your room and lie down for a while." "Okay, mom." ***** "Damn. Even my mom thinks I'm a girl now." Daryl grumbled on his way to his room. "I sure wish I knew what the hell was going on around here." But when he reached his room and opened the door, he cringed at the changes in his room. "Oh, shit." he exclaimed. "This isn't even my room anymore. This is a girl's room." The windows had frilly curtains. And there were stuffed animals and dolls on both the window sills and the dresser. But also standing on the dresser was a large mirror. Hesitantly he walked over to peer in the mirror. For the first time since he'd been transformed, he stared at her reflected image. He couldn't believe what he saw. Was this really how everyone else now saw him? She was shorter than he had been by several inches. Her hair was the same color his had always been, but instead of his closely cropped cut, her hair flowed down over her breasts. Her eyes were the same as his. It was probably the only thing about him that hadn't been changed. In his mind, the girl in the mirror looked like she could have been his sister, that is, if he'd had a sister. And there was no trace of anything masculine in her face. In fact, Daryl thought she was kind of pretty. He just wished she wasn't him. He pulled the sweater off over his head. He stared at his breasts and wondered if he should remove the bra to better examine these brand new additions to his anatomy. To Daryl, they felt like someone had hung two large melons from his chest. Just how did girls get along with things this huge bouncing about their chests all the time. He stared at her body. She had a nice figure and wonderfully long slender legs. He wished again that, instead of being the girl whose image was reflected in the mirror, he could somehow get to know her better. He opened her purse and checked its contents. Inside he found her driver's license. It was issued to Darla Abigail Lindwell, sex female, age seventeen, height 5'6", and weight 119 pounds. Only his age had remained constant. And not only had he become a girl, but in the process he had lost ten inches of height and better than half his body weight. From the shelf on the dresser, he picked up last year's yearbook and quickly flipped to the page where he thought _his_ picture should be, but instead of him, he blankly stared at the picture captioned "Darla Lindwell." When he checked the index, he found a some additional entries for her. On one page he found a posed picture of the cheerleaders from last year's squad. And there _she_ was. And yet even stranger, he, or was it she now, remembered posing for the picture as well as all the names of every girl in it. Had _he_ known all their names before? He couldn't remember. On another referenced page, he found another picture of her, and that same guy who'd brought him home this afternoon. In it, she was the junior homecoming princess. And suddenly, he knew that this guy had been her homecoming date. Quite possibly he rationalized, he was also her boyfriend. But who was he? Acting on a sudden impulse, he turned back to the index and checked for the name Dawson. To his surprise and consternation, he found "Dawson, Mike." Michelle was not listed. He flipped to the first page listed and stared at the picture of the boy who had brought him home. Evidently, whatever had changed him into Darla had also changed Michelle into Mike. However, Mike apparently had no memories of ever having been Michelle, and from his earlier actions, he almost certainly didn't remember that Darla had once been Daryl. And then there was the team photograph of the football team. Mike was listed as one of the running backs. "But I was a running back." he whispered to to himself. Just then, another sudden realization swept his mind. "Oh, no. This isn't fair. Why should Mike be the one to be tackled and have his back broken instead of me? He didn't do anything to deserve being hurt, while I'm safe and sound on the sidelines as Darla." Without conscious thought, he turned back to the yearbook for another look at the picture of Mike in his uniform. "Damn, he's cute." Darla whispered to herself and smiled. "Good God!" Daryl exclaimed. "Just why in the name of hell am I thinking that about some guy." * * * When Daryl came down for dinner, he had re-dressed his female form in one of the matching sets of sweat pants and shirt he'd found in one of the dresser's drawers. Even though he wasn't overly happy about having to wear anything pink, he had to admit that the pants and shirt had been nearly a perfect fit as they completely covered his new body. The only real problem he had was with the shirt. It was a little tight in places and tended to accentuate his breasts. Even the pink tennis shoes he'd found had seemed the perfect match for what he now wore. "Did Mike ask you to go to the Homecoming Dance." asked his mother. "Yes." he answered curtly. "Well. What did you tell him? Are you going with him?" "Yes." "I know you'll have a wonderful time, dear." gushed his mother. "Why I remember when your father asked ..." The phone rang. "People shouldn't call at dinner time." remarked his father. "I'll get it." said Daryl. "Stay at the table, sweetheart." replied his mother. "I'll get it." Daryl squirmed in his chair, as he tried to listen to the one-sided conversation. "Hello. . . . Yes, Becky. Darla seems to be much better now." Becky??? "Yes. . . . You can tell Mrs. Willis that she'll definitely be at school tomorrow and ready to cheer for the team. . . . Do you want me to have her call you back? . . . Okay, then I'm sure she'll see you at school tomorrow. . . . Thanks for calling, Becky." Daryl watched as his mother hung up the phone and returned to the dining room table. "Who was that on the phone, mom?" he asked cautiously. "That was Becky Wilson, dear." she replied. "She knew you'd left practice early because you weren't feeling very good and she wanted to find out if you were feeling better now." His mother's answer struck him like a sledgehammer. Just how could that have been Becky Wilson on the phone? Becky was dead. Wasn't she? ***** After finishing his dinner in silence, Daryl excused himself and returned to Darla's room. He could no longer think of it as his room anymore. He re-opened the yearbook to the posed cheerleader picture. For several minutes, he stared at the girl standing next to Darla. It was Becky Wilson. How could he have missed her standing there right next to him when he'd looked at the picture earlier this evening? But he couldn't remember now, if she had or hadn't even been in the picture earlier? Things were definitely changing. He was now a girl named Darla. Michelle was now a boy named Mike. Now Becky had somehow been returned to life. What would be next? he wondered. Daryl thought back to that night two years earlier. He had been on his way home from visiting Michelle, when he spotted the flashing lights of the ambulance and police cars in front of the Wilson's house. Not knowing what was happening, he stopped and quickly made his way to the door. Warily, he knocked on the door and ... Becky opened the door. "Hi Darla." he remembered her saying. "It's kind of late to be visiting." "I know." replied Darla. "But when I saw all of the flashing lights and the ambulance and the police cars out in front of your house, I was afraid that something was wrong." "Oh. Everything's alright here." Becky smiled at her friend. "All of the activity is next door. Our neighbor Mr. Martin apparently had a heart attack and Mrs. Martin must have been so rattled she gave the emergency people the wrong address. Mom and dad were sure surprised when the paramedics arrived." "I'm glad everything's alright, Becky." said Darla. "Well, I guess I'd better head for home or my parents will be worried about where I am." "As long as you're here, would you like to come in for a couple of minutes, Darla?" asked Becky, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "There's someone here I'd really like you to meet." "I suppose. But I really shouldn't stay long." Darla followed Becky into the living room. As they entered the room, the young man sitting on the couch stood up. "Darla." said Becky. "I'd like you to meet my cousin Mike Dawson. Mike, this is my best friend Darla Lindwell." "Hi Darla." said Mike shyly. "Hi Mike." Darla replied coyly. Damn, he's cute, she thought. "Oh no, you don't. Not again." exclaimed Daryl as he broke out of his recollections of events that were now happening differently than he'd thought he remembered them happening. "So that was how _I_ met Mike. Becky introduced us, just like she had introduced me to Michelle before." For just a fleeting moment, Daryl felt oddly disoriented, but the feeling passed quickly and was soon forgotten. And for a few seconds, he wondered who Michelle was. Daryl glanced over at the clock. How did it get to be so late all of a sudden? I guess its time I should get to bed. Anyway I can worry about all of this other shit tomorrow. Quickly Daryl stripped out of his pink sweats. Then, he opened one of the dresser drawers in search of something comfortable in which to sleep. After finding and putting on what he considered the perfect sleeping attire, he wandered back in front of the mirror. Daryl smiled. "Damn, you look hot." he said to the image of the girl in the skimpy teddy reflected by the mirror. ***** When morning arrived, Daryl was surprised that he still possessed the body of an attractive female. It had been his hope that upon waking, he'd discover that everything that had differed from what he'd thought as normal, especially this female body, had been only a dream. But it hadn't been a dream. He was still the girl in the sexy teddy he'd been when he'd slid under the covers of his bed last night. But now he had to somehow get ready for his first day of school as a girl. Quite amazingly he had no trouble whatsoever getting dressed or fixing his hair or applying his makeup. While he couldn't remember ever having done any of these things before this morning, he had the strangest feeling that he'd been doing all of these things for years. And if the results reflected by the mirror were a true indication, then he definitely must have been doing them for years. Daryl was frightened. Was Darla somehow taking over his life? He thought back to last night's memories of meeting Mike. He wondered how many of Darla's memories were supplanting his own. And just how far did these girlish memories of his go back? Daryl recalled his first varsity football game. The coach had put him into the game in its closing minutes. The quarterback had called for a draw in the huddle and then called his number on the line. After the quarterback had handed the ball off to him, he ran fifty-eight yards for the winning touchdown as he leaped into the end zone. . . . And landed in the arms of one of the male cheerleaders after being tossed into the air in celebration of Mike Dawson's winning touchdown. Daryl sighed. As far as she could remember, there was nothing wrong with her memories of her first day as a varsity cheerleader. Then Daryl thought back to the birthday party he'd had when he turned six. It was a guys only party, no girls had been invited. He clearly remembered that Chuck had given him a toy machine gun. And Davey had given him a really neat erector set. . . . And Holly had given her the cutest and cuddliest stuffed bear she'd ever seen in her life. And her best friend Becky had given her one of the new Barbie dolls. Darla smiled. She wondered why she'd thought something was wrong with her memory, when there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Of course, she still didn't have the slightest idea why she was now a girl instead of the boy she'd always been. She really hoped that whatever had changed her would wear off soon. It wasn't that being a girl was all that bad, because it really wasn't. It was because she knew she'd been born a boy and was really supposed to be one now. As usual, Darla ate her breakfast alone. Both of her parents had to be at work before she normally got out of bed. And after she finished eating, she left for school. Shortly after entering the school grounds, she ran into Mrs. Willis, the faculty advisor for both the cheerleader and pep squads. She apologized again for missing yesterday's practice. She was glad that Mrs. Willis understood and would let her dress for tonight's game. For some reason, she was very worried about not seeing Mike at all. But then, that wasn't all that unusual on game days, since, on those days, the players generally hung out together and kept to themselves. Yet somehow, in the back of her mind, Darla had the strangest feeling that Mike was going to be seriously hurt in the game tonight. And that same mysterious feeling told her there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Her classes seemed to go slower than usual. Her first class had been Mrs. Warren's English class. They were currently reading Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." She thought the story was a fun read, but wondered what old William had been smoking as he wrote the story. Somehow she just had problems with Nick Bottom being given the head of an ass. It was so unreal. In real life, nobody was ever transformed like that. Miss King's history class was next. And it was just as boring as it was normally. Darla was certain that the reason the class was so dull was because Miss King was only four or five years older than she was. It was just so hard to take history seriously from her. The day continued with Mrs. Baker's Home Economics class. Another dull class. But then nothing noteworthy ever happened in Home Ec. And she'd always looked forward to Mrs. Murphy's Geography class, simply because it was the only class she shared with Mike Dawson. She'd wanted to let him know about her feelings of him being hurt, but, as always, she hadn't had any time to speak with Mike after class. His next class, Wood Shop, was at the other end of the campus from her Drama class. Ms. Marston's drama class had been the most fun of the day and, as a result, seemed to be over almost as soon as it had started. They were in a partial dress rehearsal for the play the class would be performing for the senior class next week. Darla hoped that Becky wouldn't tell her cousin Mike just how much fun it was acting opposite, not to mention being kissed by, that hunk Jason Mitchell. And finally the day ended in Mrs. Willis class. Darla was glad that the school day had finally ended. ***** At the game that night, Darla, certain that something would happen, intently watched from the sidelines everything that Mike did when out on the field. Fortunately, nothing had happened to him during the first half of the game, but that nagging feeling that he'd be hurt sometime during this game wouldn't leave her in peace. Darla felt better after the second half started. After several minutes, she began to think that maybe the premonition she'd had earlier had been wrong after all. Then suddenly, she felt that odd feeling of foreboding return in force, as she looked up at the game clock. There was 6:13 left in the third period. Anxiously, Darla watched Mike take the handoff from the quarterback. He had just sprinted into the hole created by his linemen, when it closed just as quickly and he was crushed by a jarring tackle. Darla cringed when Mike didn't get up immediately. It was all my fault, thought Darla. I should have told him about my premonition. It was a warning and I ignored it. And from the deep recesses of her mind, she swore she heard a familiar, yet not familiar, voice saying "It should have been me." But when, after several minutes delay, the stretcher was brought out onto the field, Mike had stood and waved them away. Under his power, he walked wobbly off the field and then sat down on the end of the player's bench. Once sitting, he was immediately surrounded by the coaches, his teammates, and the paramedics from the in-attendance ambulance. Darla was relieved that Mike was alright, but, in light of her strange feelings all day, she wondered why he was still okay. Never in her life had she ever been so happy to be wrong about something. She knew she had to talk with him. Mike smiled as he saw her approach. "Are you alright?" she asked worriedly. "I'm just fine, Darla." he replied. "For a moment, I thought I heard some bones breaking, but I must have been wrong. Besides, I couldn't let anything interfere with our date." They smiled at each other. And then the paramedics took him away in the ambulance to the hospital. They said it was just a precautionary measure, and she could visit him there tomorrow, if she wanted. As Darla watched the ambulance drive away, she heard a voice in her mind. "The moment required for the nexus of change has now passed, Darla. That which needed to be altered has been so altered, and what once had passed in another reality has no longer passed in this one. Now it is time that you must return to where you belong." And as dizziness overwhelmed her senses, she closed her eyes. When the dizziness passed and she re-opened eyes, the football field had disappeared. And the night had been replaced by the dawning of a brand new day. "Where am I now?" she whispered. "This isn't my parents' house and it's certainly not my apartment anymore. It looks like I'm in somebody's bedroom. But whose?" Darla looked in mirror standing in the corner of the room. She was surprised she was still Darla. Even if she now appeared to be about ten years older then the last time she'd looked in a mirror, she had expected to be male again when her misadventures had finally reached their conclusion. "I must be back where and when I started. But where is here? And why am I still this female?" On the table near the mirror, Darla spotted a large book. She picked it up and discovered it was a photograph album. She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the album. Inside were pictures of her. But why should someone have pictures of her in their room? She looked at the pictures taken at her sixth birthday party. There was one of her and Holly with the stuffed bear Holly had given her. And another one showed her and Becky playing with the Barbie doll that Becky had given her. And there were pictures of lots of other girls, she hadn't thought about in years. She smiled as more and more childhood memories resurfaced in her mind. And she never noticed the cutest and cuddliest little stuffed bear that silently appeared on the dresser. Then there was a picture of her being caught in mid-air by one of the male cheerleaders after she'd been thrown high into air following Mike Dawson's game winning touchdown. Her mom had taken this picture, she remembered. And even after all this time, it still made her smile when she looked at it. She turned the page and found a picture of her with _her_ homecoming court. For a moment, the picture of her as the Homecoming Queen had surprised her. She'd thought that Cindy Clanger had been elected the queen. But then she remembered that Cindy's reputation as "Clanger the Banger" had finally caught up with her. And as she now recalled, a tearful and very pregnant Cindy had abdicated her throne in favor of the first runner up. The next page had a picture of her and Mike taken at the senior prom. She thought, he was so handsome in his tuxedo. She remembered how happy she'd been that he hadn't been hurt in that football game so many years ago. And she knew that she wouldn't have wanted to go to their prom with anyone else but _her_ Mike. Suddenly, she felt strange, but the feeling passed almost immediately. She stood up and looked in the mirror. Was she fatter than she'd been a few minutes before? No, things like that just weren't possible. Even pregnant women didn't gain weight that quickly. And the doctor had only verified her pregnancy this morning. The next picture was her and Mike's wedding picture. Her best friend Becky had been her maid of honor. And Holly, who had been her friend since they were both little girls, had been one of her bridesmaids. As she stared at the picture, a wedding band appeared unnoticed on her finger. She remembered Becky telling her that she'd have more fun on her wedding night than she'd ever had in her entire life. She always wondered how her single friend Becky knew that would be true. Another glance in the mirror showed her slightly swollen two-month pregnant belly. Turning the page, she found a picture of her and Mike and their daughter Lynette taken on her first birthday. She stared at her image in the picture. When had her breasts grown so large? She remembered how happy she'd been when Lynette had been born. And she remembered how wonderful it had made her feel to breast feed Lynette. In response to her memories, a pleasant tingling spread across her breasts. And as she remembered just how much Mike had enjoyed playing with her breasts after they'd expanded three inches and a cup size, she smiled. And, unnoticed by her, her breasts expanded to match their size in the picture before her. And when she looked in mirror, she saw herself, as expected, nearly four-months pregnant. The next picture in the book showed her and Mike with Lynette and their second daughter Diane on her first birthday. At first, Mike had been clearly disappointed that Diane hadn't been a boy, but anyone who looked at this picture could tell he loved both his girls equally. The picture had been taken about month ago and Darla still thought the picture made her look fat. But then most women at seven months looked fat to her. Another turned page. A photo of a short unknown man stared up at her. Until he spoke, Darla had no idea who he could be. "This page is reserved for your soon-to-be-born son, Darla." said Aloysius Morfus calmly. "You!" exclaimed Darla. "You're responsible for this! What have you done to me?" "Most interesting." replied Morfus. "I was unsure if any of the you that had previously been would still exist at this point. But I am very certain that very little of Daryl still exists in you. And quite soon, even that little part of him will no longer remain a part of your soul. "As far as what I've done to you, my dear, I have done absolutely nothing that was not expected of me or planned by those who paid me or agreed to by you, sweet Darla. I only guaranteed you a healthy body free of its confinement from that wheelchair in a reality that has now been rewritten. And I believe I have faithfully delivered on that guarantee. Even if your body may not be exactly as _you_ would have desired, it does fulfill _exactly_ the desires of someone else." "Who?" "Now that would be telling. Wouldn't it, Darla?" replied Morfus with a cheshire cat grin. "Not that it will make any difference to you, I can say it was someone close. Someone who gave up much to gain that which was returned. Was it worth it? I do not know. And in any event, it is beyond my place to cast judgement." Darla wanted to slam the book shut, but her arms refused to move. "But now, Darla," said Morfus, "it is time for you to sleep. Your time draws very near." Darla yawned. As forced sleepiness began overtaking her senses, she watched the picture of Morfus slowly fade away. After it had vanished completely, her eyes closed in quiet sleep. ***** A sharp pain woke Darla from her peaceful slumber. Rolling over, she shook her husband in order to wake him up. "Mike." she told him calmly. "I think its time, dear. And I really think it will definitely be a boy this time." THE END