All Because Of April free porn video

"Would our paths cross if every great loss had turned out our gain? Would our paths cross if the pain it had cost us was paid in vain?" -Poi Dog Pondering; "Thanksgiving" Robert sat in the wrought-iron patio chair in the warming morning air wondering if there was any way he could possibly make today a good day. He lifted his coffee cup and considered before sipping. Tracy and Derek Zimmerman. Though he didn't know it then, meeting them had been an important moment in his life. Since he'd gone on a mountain bike ride at Goat Hill and met them at the trailhead on that day in September over two years ago. They'd gone for beers afterwards and hit it off. Now, he was here watching their house while they spent a year in France. Sure, he was more of a cabin-in-the-woods kind of guy and this was a suburban house with a quarter-acre. However, it was a nice, unassuming house, though and, being a Vermont subdivision, it bordered woods and old, overgrown fields from the farm it replaced. Nobody was sure who owned the remaining land but, they had apparently refused outright to sell, so it sat semi-wild. All in all, not a bad place to be on a spring morning. A ride, he thought, that's what this day needs. He had some training to do if he wanted to race this weekend. Perhaps a race-pace sprint around Hobbe's Hollow for an hour. That would take his mind off of today. No, it couldn't be a training ride, he decided. He couldn't ride alone, especially not today of all days. He'd definitely have to take... "Hey," came a voice from his left. He looked up to see a brunette teenage girl looking down on him from the other side of the tall fence. She rested her head on one of her folded arms as her blue eyes considered him. He knew she was standing on the compost bin on the other side. "Hey, yourself, Mal." He smiled and gestured to the small, delicate cup and saucer on the table across from him, "Want some joe? I've got your cup." "You know, my mom says that your coffee isn't fit for normal humans," she replied. "Firstly, your mom never complains when she comes over to drink my coffee and chat "Robert snorted, "Secondly, when have you ever been a normal human?" "True... I'll be right over!", the girl smiled a quick smile and dropped down out of sight, headed towards the small wicket gate near the end of the yard. The Zimmerman's had installed it and an identical one on the other side of the yard over a decade ago. Mallory's best friend April had lived on the other side of the Zimmermans and the gates were there so that they could visit each other more easily when they were younger. Robert sighed. Mallory was a very special person in his life and it was good to see her smile like that. Now all he had to do his best not to allow today to be a bad day for her. Today had the potential to be an absolutely devastatingly awful day. Today was April's birthday. "If the wind won't catch you, I will If the wind's not there, I'm here" -Something Happens; "Parachute" He'd first met April Westerfield two years ago, give or take. At the time, he'd been in a funk for a few months or so. In March, he and his girlfriend Gretchen had split; she'd gone off to San Francisco with their good friend Marcus. The split was mutual and very amicable. All three were still good friends but, they were thousands of miles away. Then his best friends Karen and Andy got married to each other and moved to Virginia, where Karen had a job waiting. Sure, he still had coworkers acquaintances and riding buddies but, they were just that; he missed having real friends. Then along came Joy and Arthur Westerfield. He'd first met them at a cocktail party at the Zimmerman's. Joy was a librarian with a degree in Art History and he'd hit it off with her when he'd gotten caught up in a group discussion about Leonardo da Vinci. They'd commiserated over people who call the famous artist "Da Vinci" rather than "Leonardo". Joy's husband, Arthur, was a GP at a local practice and loved to argue and debate as much as Robert did. They ended up talking with each other until the Zimmermans kicked everyone out at 2am. Joy, Arthur and Robert began meeting for coffee, dinner, drinks or all three quite regularly and soon were fast friends. Then, one Friday came an invitation to a Saturday dinner at the Westerfields' home. Joy talked about food a lot and Arthur gushed about her cooking so, naturally he accepted. Arthur met Robert at the door, taking the bottle of wine he'd brought. He was led into the kitchen and there, seated at the island peeling garlic while her mother sauteed chicken, was April. He'd heard all about her, of course. When you've got a daughter, that tends to come up a lot in conversation. Though he got along great with young kids, he'd never really had much contact with thirteen-year old girls. But, since he got along with Arthur and Joy so well he thought he was ready. What he wasn't ready for was the instant rapport they'd have. It really started when Robert was set to work chopping vegetables. A potato slipped out of his hands and, with apparent grace, he managed to catch it just before it hit the ground. When Arthur complimented his catch, he smiled with mock arrogance and referenced his "ninja skills". With perfect timing, April pointed out that ninja weren't really known for their vegetable dropping abilities. Robert countered that was exactly what ninja wanted you to think and soon he and April were riffing together as though to a common script. When they weren't laughing, Arthur and Joy were amazed at how April and Robert were getting along. Over dinner conversation, Robert was himself amazed by April. She was intelligent, witty even, but, not annoyingly precocious. Like her parents, she was an avid reader and could definitely hold her own in conversation. She had definite opinions and wasn't afraid to voice them though, she always maintained an open mind. As the night wore on and dinner let to wine and heated games of Scrabble and Zombie Fluxx on the screened-in porch, Arthur noted how much April and Robert had in common despite their ages. From literary and musical tastes, to mountain biking and art, to their senses of humor, they were cut from the same cloth. For his part, Robert had rarely connected with someone so quickly, and never with someone so much younger than himself. The next day, he got a text from Joy. April wanted to know if he'd take her and her best friend Mallory riding on Sunday. Arthur wasn't sure, never having hit the trail with riders so young and inexperienced but, he felt that he couldn't disappoint April. He pulled his Outback into the Westerfield's driveway got out and was introduced to Mallory for the first time. Joy had 'warned' him yesterday about Mallory and April. Arthur, a fan of The Three Musketeers, had dubbed them "The Two Inseparables" and it was a fitting nickname. They'd been friends since they were toddlers and they'd been as close, if not closer than, sisters most of their lives. They played off each other's strengths and made up for each others' weaknesses. April was artistic where Mallory's talent lay in words. Mallory was impetuous; she often leapt before she looked, counting on luck and skill to carry her through. April was thoughtful and cautious; she wasn't a coward by any means but, she always had to plan. They fought like sisters and made up like friends. They weren't joined at the hip and didn't mind being apart but, when they were together, which was often, they were a team that complemented each other perfectly. Physically, they were near-opposites. April was tall and coltish. Her blonde hair was often in a single long braid and her eyes were deep brown. She had a wide, expressive mouth that was always smiling and laughing. Never seeming to be down, she was always in motion and always talking. In contrast, Mallory was short and a bit chubby. Her curly shoulder- length black hair was usually pulled into a pony tail and her eyes were a brilliant blue. Her mouth was small and full-lipped. It seemed to be made for wry smiles rather than big, toothy grins which fit her personality perfectly. They didn't take to each other at once. Mallory had been a bit suspicious, as though Robert was going to steal April away from her. For Robert's part, he was nervous about having to deal with another thirteen- year-old girl. But, by the time they'd gotten to the trailhead and unloaded they were getting along famously. They couldn't help it. Robert and April were so similar, if you liked one, you liked the other. And if April liked Mallory, Robert couldn't help but like her, too. Though young and new to the sport, April and Mallory were serious riders with a great deal of natural talent. They'd discovered riding three years ago and had been attending local girls-only camps every summer since then. Though they were slower and less experienced than him, Robert found that riding with them was a treat. They exuded such an infectious joy of just being on bicycles, hooting and hollering at every G-out and small jump that Robert found himself smiling more on this ride than on any of his recent ones. They rode for over an hour and a half, taking time to session some jumps, play on some small structures and practice wheelies in the parking lot. As they packed up the car, April and Mallory cajoled Robert into a completely unauthorized stop for post-ride hot dogs. He had no choice, so all three of them singing along with Ok Go at the top of their voices, they headed to the Snack Shack. After an update text to Arthur, they spent an hour eating and talking. They didn't seem to even notice that he was over twice their age and he didn't mind that they were half his. That summer he saw a lot of Arthur, Joy, April and Mallory. So much so, that April dubbed him "Fake Uncle Robert". He was invited to cheer at April and Mallory's races, also acting a their unofficial team mechanic. More then once, during his own races, he was surprised to hear cheering as he passed the feed zone and looked up to see the Westerfields and the Kitteridges waving and shouting. A summer of riding turned into a fall of hiking and soon the snow began to fall. Mallory and April, both avid snowboarders, had decided that it was a crime that Robert had never ridden and convinced him to take lessons. By winter's end, he jokingly comforted himself that, while he hadn't hit the park yet, at least he was keeping up with two thirteen- year-old girls on the blue trails. The next spring was eventful for Robert. He lost his job as a graphic designer for a locally-based wedding magazine. Except for the loss of income, he was very happy about it; he'd grown tired of the overly-girly aesthetic, limited color palette and the near-constant drama that accompanied everything attached with the wedding industry. He'd gotten enough freelance clients over the years to keep some money coming in. A week later, he lost the lease on his apartment. He'd known it was coming a month before and had started looking for a new place when the Zimmermans approached him with their generous offer. They were spending eighteen months in the south of France as part of Stacy's job as a travel writer and they needed someone to watch their house while they were away. They couldn't think of anyone other than Robert whom they'd trust with their house for so long. Being next door to the girls mean that they saw a lot of each other. That summer was filled with riding, hiking, and movies. All of the ingredients for a great summer but, with lots of April and Mallory added. Though he was close to becoming a third Inseparable, the girls didn't usurp his time. They understood, almost innately when he needed to be apart from them. When there was freelance work to do, an art commission to finish, a date or just the opportunity to ride with people of his own skill level and/or gender, they made themselves scarce without offense. Dinner at the Westerfields became less of an occasion and more of a fixture. He was expected over nearly every night and became closer than ever to Arthur, Joy and April. As time passed, he became less "fake uncle" and more "fake big brother". He became the girls' sounding board and confidant. Secrets were shared, large and small. One late October afternoon, when Mallory was away, he and April climbed Mt. Mansfield. As they sat on the shoulder, looking out over the fading foliage, April told him a secret that nobody else, not even Mallory, knew. She'd needed to tell someone and he was both stunned and honored that it had been him. She didn't need to tell him to never speak a word of it; her trust showed she knew how much she meant to him. Robert didn't have a crush on April, far from it. He wasn't attracted to her in 'that' way, not in the least. For her part, April was certainly no Lolita. The lack of attraction meant that there was nothing in the way of their friendship. If he had to give their relationship a word, it would have been 'soulmates' but, he hated cheesy terms like that. He'd simply found someone that he was more connected to than anyone else. Someone that he got along with without thought, cared about without reservation. He'd have sooner cut off his own hand than ever harm her or allow her to come to harm. November came and with it a dead alternator that left him unable to attend his family Thanksgiving out of state. The day before Thanksgiving, April texted him inviting him over for Thanksgiving dinner with the whole Westerfield family. He was flattered, and said as much when he accepted. Between preparation, dinner and post-dinner desert, drinks and conversation, the day lasted until nearly 11 PM. As Robert walked next door, savoring the cold stars and swaying slightly, he was aware of two things. First, he'd better get some water if he didn't want a hangover. Secondly, he realized that he'd just had the best Thanksgiving ever. His own upbringing up could never in any way be called abusive, or neglectful or even "kind of not-that-great". His parents were caring and his relationship with sister was fine. But, there was never the closeness that he felt with the Westerfields. They were some of the most welcoming people he'd ever known. It wasn't a creepy welcoming but, a genuine show of affection. So genuine that you felt proud when they welcomed you in and became a better person just to live up to what you thought were their expectations. He had to admit that being with the Westerfields felt more like family than his own family did. Somehow, he didn't mind that. He managed to get himself to bed and fell asleep feeling incredibly lucky. Christmas came and went. He spent the holiday at his parent's house and, though he had a great time, he did keep thinking of the Westerfields. A Christmas eve text conversations with April and Mallory made the night. On New Year's Eve, he joined the Westerfields and the Kitteridges for a midnight snowshoe up Sunset Ridge. They climbed for over an hour, headlamps and full moon lighting the trees. At the top, they counted down the new year and toasted with a bottle of warm sake Robert had carried up with him in a Thermos. Robert thanked all of them for making his life quite wonderful by being his friends. It was sappy, but he felt it had to be said. What he didn't say out loud was that he desperately hoped he was doing enough in return to deserve it. April and Mallory stood beside him as they all watched the full moon set over the Green Mountains. He was as happy as he'd ever been. The happiness lasted until the second week in January, when their lives changed, completely and irrevocably it seemed, for the worse. "What were the words I meant to say before she left, when I could see her breath lead where she was going to?" "January Hymn" by The Decemberists He'd been in San Francisco to attend Gretchen and Marcus' wedding. They'd chosen an off-season date for economy's sake, so they could have all of their East Coast family and friends out to the West Coast. He'd just finished a comedic slow dance with Marcus when his phone vibrated. He thought about turning it off but, checked the number out of reflex and saw that it was Mallory. Suddenly, he had a very bad feeling. Mallory certainly wouldn't call him here and now on a whim, it wasn't like her. When he stepped out onto the hotel's balcony to take the call his hands were trembling. After he answered, all he could hear was sobbing. It took a while of Robert talking softly to her for Mallory to even speak. When she did, the world seemed to fall away from him and his heart felt as though it had been torn from his body. April was dead. He pulled himself together long enough to assure Mallory that he'd get a flight that night and he'd be home as soon as he could. He ran back in and made his apologies to Marcus and Gretchen, citing a non-specific emergency. He'd tell them later. He didn't want to ruin their special day with such awful news. It took some haggling and near-begging but, he managed to get a red-eye back to the East Coast that would get him into Burlington around five in the morning. The flight was a blur. He didn't remember sleeping but, couldn't remember being awake. Drunk on fatigue poisons and sorrow, he managed to negotiate the snowy roads from the airport without incident, arriving at the Zimmerman's driveway around 6 AM. He sat in the idling car, mind racing, getting up the courage to go to the Kitteridge's. He knocked on the Kitteridge's door and Amy answered, Dennis standing in the hallway behind her. Their eyes were red and raw, their faces drawn. They knew he was there to see Mallory and welcomed his arrival, thinking, hoping, it would do their daughter good. He got most of the story from them. They had to keep spelling each other, as each became overcome with emotion. April had been snowboarding with the usual gang on Saturday afternoon. Shortly before their last run, she'd complained of a headache and, after arriving home went straight to her room for a nap. When Joy had gone to get her for dinner, April wouldn't wake up. The EMTs found no heartbeat but, performed CPR all the way to the ER. April was pronounced dead within minutes of reaching the hospital. The doctor said it was a ruptured cerebral aneurysm; she had died almost instantly while asleep. Amy took his face in her hands and told him to go see Mallory. She'd been waiting in the Zimmerman's living room almost as soon as he'd hung up. "You're a good fake uncle, Robert," Amy smiled at him through the tears. "Do you know that?" "I hope so. She's worth it," he said, "I'll bring her back over before I go over to Joy and Arthur's." He found Mallory curled up on the living room couch. She'd fallen asleep crying, face buried in a large plush goat that Gretchen had given him at art school. He sat down by her head and laid his hand on her shoulder as he thought about what might come next. He'd sat down on the couch beside her and lightly touched her shoulder. Mallory woke up with a sigh and looked around as if unsure of where she was. Then she saw Robert and he watched her face break as she remembered why he was there. With a sob, she flung himself at him and cried, her body shaking with sobs. He cried, too. But, not for April, not just then, but for Mallory and the terrible grief he wished he could take from her. He held her until she fell asleep, exhausted. He wrapped her in a blanket and carried her carefully to the waiting arms of her parents. Seeing the Westerfields wasn't much better. At the door Joy hugged him as tightly as Mallory did. When she didn't let go, Arthur joined them and they stood together in the doorway, holding each other silently mourning. The funeral was held a three days later with a huge turnout. Joy startled him by asking him to help carry April's coffin. Humbled, he carried April with Arthur, Dennis and April's grandfather, Mortimer; it felt as heavy as lead. Mallory walked just behind him, one hand on the coffin's side, her right holding his free one. She dry-eyed the entire day, having no tears left. In the months that followed, he never believed he could be so sad. It's not that he hadn't known death. There was his beloved grandfather ten years prior, and a favorite uncle a short time after but, he'd never mourned as he'd mourned April. He'd wanted to see her grow up. See her graduate college. See her become the art teacher she wanted to be. It felt as though he'd lost part of himself. For as bad as he felt, he could only imagine how bad it was for Mallory, Joy and Arthur. He'd only known April for a year and a half; they'd known her for her entire life. Their grief was worlds larger than his and he didn't want to intrude on it, so he tried to lay low. It turned out he was wrong about intruding. After a week, Joy called to find out how he was and invited him over for dinner. They needed each other more than they realized at first. Though some of their dinners left them feeling worse than ever, they had to be there for each other; it was at least something to know you weren't alone in mind-numbing loss. If there could be anything that could be called a bright side, it was that he and Mallory grew closer each day. What started as mutual grief grew into a friendship what was deeper than it ever had been. Deeper even than the one he'd shared with April. Often, they didn't have to speak but, knew, almost by empathy, what the other would say. Every weekend morning, Mallory would come over for breakfast and they'd talk. He was as important to him as April had ever been. "You tell me, that "Its getting better", But, every time that we say goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, I am haunted by your eyes and how long they've been crying." -Au Revoir Simone; "Shadows" Now, four months had gone by. The pain had subsided to a dull, nagging ache. It was there but, only if he let his guard down, then it always threatened to come down like a burst dam. Mallory seemed a bit more relaxed, finding respite from her grief, if not joy. But, today was April's birthday. He had to be strong for everyone, especially Mallory. "Feel like a ride, Malodorous?" He asked as he poured a final cup from the French press. He'd lately taken to calling her by any word that started with 'Mal'. It made her smile every time so, he kept it up," "I suppose. It's gonna be such a nice day, it'd suck to waste it. 'Sides," Mallory grinned, "I think I can kick your old butt today." "You think so, kiddo?" he said, "Finish your java and then get your gear. Make sure it's okay with your folks." The ride was a good one. It was warm for early Spring and the trails were perfect, just tacky from an evening's light rain. As he rode he could feel that he was losing himself to the trail and it was exquisite. There was hardly a thought of what today meant; hardly a thought of April. He could see that Mallory was feeling the same. She'd rarely been so fast or so smooth. He allowed her to lead and she railed. Often he didn't have to hold back as much as usual to keep from tapping her tire. When he dropped her off, she was smiling and said she'd wanted some time to herself, that maybe she'd go for a walk. After a few subtle questions to suss out if she going to be okay, he waved goodbye and went into Burlington to hit the record store and then sketch at the coffee shop for a couple of hours. When he got back to the Zimmerman's after dark, he found Mallory on the couch, almost exactly as she was that terrible January day. She looked up as he came into the room and seemed as though she was barely holding together. "My mom said it'd be cool if I came over to see you," she stood and met him halfway. "Are you okay, Mal? "he said but his question was answered by Mallory's tears. "I thought I was, but I'm not. I'm really not" she threw herself into a hug, squeezing him hard. She released a bit, then looked up at him and tried to smile through her tears,"I guess the walk in the woods alone was a bad idea, huh?" "Oh, Mal, I'm so sorry," he said, wishing he could take some of her pain into himself; even though, at times like this, he felt full to bursting, himself. They walked over to the couch and sat down together. An hour later, Mallory slept, her head on the pillow on his lap, Buster in her arms. Robert had read out loud to her until she'd finally fallen asleep and now he sat trying to finish the book. He just realized he'd read the same line four times, when he felt Mallory stir. By the sound of her breathing, he could tell she was awake but, she didn't move so, he said nothing. "Robert?" she asked after a while, still not moving,"Do you love me?" "What? Jeez! That's- um..." he stammered, completely unprepared. "Not that way, you creep!" Mallory sat upright and tried to grin as she smacked him with the pillow. Her voice softened, "I mean it. Do you love me." "Mal, I care about you. A lot. You're one of my favorite people in the universe," he said, but she looked at him so imploringly he smiled and added "Look, um... Heinlein said that, 'Love is the condition that exists when another's happiness is essential to your own', right? That's how I feel about you. So, I do love you, Mallory, very much. I'd do anything for you. You know that." "Anything?" "Of course. Always." "Thank you, Robert," Mallory said, leaning over and hugging him, "For everything." "I'll hold a place for you inside Inside my heart for you and I I won't forget these tears I cry With every year that passes by " -Amber Pacific; "Always You" Spring progressed into summer and Mallory's mood improved. April wasn't forgotten but, Mallory seemed to be moving on. She was happier, almost giddy at times; she even seemed to laugh much more than she did when April was alive. She raced and rode and hiked. She hung out with her friends more than him now and he knew that was a healthy sign. The only thing that bothered him was the speed of the transition from the Mallory on April's birthday, to the Mallory now. But, to all appearances she was fine and her mood rubbed off on him and the Westerfields. Even they were more relaxed. Their time hanging out together was almost like old times again. Then, one hot July Saturday afternoon, he got a text from Arthur inviting him over for dinner and drinks. He arrived to find that Joy had pulled out all the stops. His favorite artisan cheddar and a chocolate stout to start, then some dolmeh, then chicken curry followed up by raspberry crumble. It was one of the best dinners he'd ever had at the Westerfields, which was saying a lot. As they sat in the living room, talking and slowly digesting the wonderful meal, Robert asked Joy why the big dinner with all of his favorites. "No reason," she smiled. "We just thought you'd like it, that's all." Her smile was a bit forced but, between the dinner and the beer, Robert was feeling a little lightheaded and didn't notice. His eyelids got heavier and slowly closed. They snapped open as Robert realized that he'd nodded off for a second. "Oh, man. Sorry, guys," he said and yawned. "Jeez. I didn't think I had that much to drink. I should head home." "NO!" Joy said, a touch too loudly. "I mean, the night's still early. It's not even midnight yet. You don't have to work tomorrow." "Heh. I'm a freelancer,"Robert said sleepily, eyes half-lidded,"I don't have to work any tomorrow I don't want to." He raised his glass to toast his statement, drained it, then slouched deeper into the couch. "Unless you want to pay bills," Arthur laughed. "Yeah... That's true... I still have tooo..," Robert's head tipped slowly backwards to rest on the couch cushion. His glass began to slip from his nerveless fingers but, Arthur caught it and placed it on a coaster. On the couch, Robert was snoring softly. Joy and Arthur stood up slowly. Arthur stepped over to Robert's sleeping form while Joy picked up her phone and began to text. "December is darkest and June is the light but this empty bedroom won't make anything right" -Stars; "Calendar Girl" Robert awoke feeling a bit woozy and rather surprised to have fallen asleep at all. The first thing he noticed was that he was horizontal. The last thing he remembered was sitting on the couch; he must have fallen over. The second thing he noticed was Arthur, Joy and Mallory standing around him. "Hey, guys. Hey, Mal. What are you doing here?" He yawned. "I must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry. I think I drank a little too much. I haven't done that since..." He paused. He wasn't on the couch but on a bed. Sensations slowly began filtering into his mind and he realized that he wasn't just in a bed. He was naked with a sheet over him up to his chest, with his arms by his side outside the sheet. His brain acknowledged this information and the strangeness of the situation was apparent but he remained calm. It was as though everything was damped. Then, he noticed the third thing. He also couldn't move anything but his face and eyes. He could still feel his body down to his toes, but he just couldn't move. Still wondering why he wasn't panicking, he looked around. The room was dim, lit by a large red candle on a table at the foot of the bed. It cast strange shadows over his friends' faces, making them slightly eerie. "What the heck's going on, guys? And uh..." He was suddenly more awake but, the calm that held him also seemed to keep him from using profanity or raising his voice, "Why the heck can't I move?" "That's the potion we gave you," Mallory said. "So you wouldn't hurt yourself." "It also keeps you calm," added Arthur. "You drugged me," Robert said in an even voice. "Well," Mallory shrugged. "It sounds better if you say "potion". I got it from a magic book, after all" "Magic. Book," Robert intoned. "Mallory, what's going on?" "We miss April. We miss her so much. It's too hard. The house is too empty without her," Joy's eyes were dry but her voice was full of emotion, "We need a daughter in our lives again," "Need a daughter? What do you mean, Joy? You don't-" Robert asked slowly. His eyes grew wide and his induced calm nearly broke as horrifying images formed in his mind, "Oh, god. You're not going to cut off my- and- and-" "No!" Joy rushed to the bed and sat down next to Robert's head and began to stroke his hair, "We're not going to hurt you at all! We could never hurt you." Robert calmed a bit at Joy's assurance but, only a bit. Mallory leaned on the footboard of the bed. "It really is a magic book," she said. "After we went on that ride on April's birthday, I went for a walk in the woods. I thought being alone would help. It didn't, really. But, remember that really old farmhouse we found last year, the one that didn't even have any graffiti? I went up in the attic to... cry and- and I found it. It looked so cool that I took it and read it. I thought it was a joke until I started trying some of the things in it." "It does sound crazy. We didn't believe her either," added Arthur. "Not at first. But, she showed us. It's real. It's like... nothing you can imagine." "I accidentally found the perfect spell. It took, like, month to get things right and get the everything ready," Mallory paused for effect, "We're going to turn you into a girl so you can live with the Westerfields. You can be their new daughter and you can be my best friend instead of just my fake uncle." Robert moved his eyes to each of them in turn, trying to read their faces. "Guys," he said carefully, "I miss April, too. A lot. I think about her every day and it still hurts, I know. But, this? This is insane. Magic doesn't exist and just saying it does won't bring April back. You guys really need some help. We can work this out. I promise, I won't tell anyone about this and we can get some help." "Robert," Joy said, moving so she could look him in the face, "I know it sounds crazy, but, it's real, we've seen what the book can do. Not something this big, but still, we've seen it. You have to believe us. "It won't matter if he doesn't believe us," Arthur said, looking away. "In the morning it'll be apparent" "No," said Joy looking up sharply, "I don't want him thinking we're lying or that we're going to hurt him. That's no way to start this. Mallory can you think of something?" "The body changes are separate from the rest of the spell," Mallory said after a moment's thought. "Well, not exactly separate. I mean, they're totally tied up together but, we can start the body stuff first while he's awake. You know, just to show him?" Mallory walked over to Robert's left side. She held a piece of paper that looked thick as hide but was translucent. Robert could see paragraphs of tiny writing covering one side, and a complex pictogram on the other. "We worked for days on this! We argued a lot, but it was so worth it," she said proudly, "This is the new you. How you'll look and stuff." As she spoke, Joy lifted his hand and separated his index finger and held it out. "Mal...ow," Robert said as Mallory pricked his finger with a small silver knife. It startled him but, didn't really hurt; the pain was as distant as his panic. Mallory blotted his finger on the paper, in an open circle on the pictogram. She pulled the paper away as Joy wrapped a handkerchief around the cut and gently placed his hand back down by his side. "Okay. This is you." Mallory held up the parchment and flashed Robert a conspiratorial smile. "I won't go into all the details but you're going to be super-cute." Robert was about to interrupt her when she held the parchment over the red candle's flame. The parchment caught the flame and began to burn and then was suddenly consumed in a flash of greenish light that lit the whole room. "Whoa!" Mallory jumped. "That was cool!" "Nice trick, Mal," Robert tried to sneer, "But, what happens now? Will you let me go?" "Not yet. We just have to wait a bit," Mallory said. "The changes will start, then you'll fall asleep and then we do the rest of the spell. The big part." "He still doesn't believe us," Joy said, hand resting on Robert's head. "Didn't you say, Mallory," interjected Arthur, "that you could hurry the spell along somehow?" "Oh yeah! That's right!" Mallory said. "If we mention specific things on the list after the spell starts, it'll happen first and faster," She looked down at Robert, then leaned in over him and smiled a mischievous smile. "Since you like to sing all the time, we decided to give you a really pretty singing voice." Mallory grinned over Robert's head at Arthur and Joy "So, it won't be as painful for all of us to listen to." Despite his predicament, Robert was a bit insulted. "Hey! I don't sing that... bad?" He trailed off as he heard his voice in his ears. It was higher, sweeter and decidedly feminine; a girl's voice. He continued in a whisper, "What the heck's going on? How are you doing this?" "We told you. It's magic," Arthur said smiling self-consciously. "The changes are starting. Mallory says you'll start to get sleepy. While you're asleep, we'll do the second part of the spell. The one that will change reality to match the new you." "Look," said Mallory, "his hair's changing!" Joy had been stroking Robert's hair. Now she was running her fingers through it. He blinked. His hair was always very short with a military taper on the back and sides, how could Joy run her fingers through it? "You're really changing me." Robert's new voice was still calm and a small part of him was still worried by the calmness, "What happens when it's all done? How long will I have to stay a girl?" "Well, um..." Mallory said, biting her lip. "Robert," said Joy, still stroking his lengthening hair, "it's forever. You'll be our foster daughter." "Forever?" His eyes darted back and forth. "What about all the people who know me? What about my parents? What are they going to think happened to me? They'll think I'm dead. Are you going to tell them?" "No. Nobody will remember you, Robert, nobody," Joy said, with a touch of sadness in her voice. "You won't exist except as Juliette." "Juliette? Who- who's Juliette?" Robert asked. "Juliette's who you'll be when we're all done," Mallory said as if reading from a script, "Juliette Oster. She's from Portland. The one in Oregon. Her parents died in a house fire in May while she was at a week- long mountain bike camp. Mr. and Mrs. Westerfield have known her parents since Mr. Westerfield and Mr. Oster were in med school. Since Juliette's got no other living relatives, they put the Westerfields in their will just in case anything happened to them. So, she's come to live here as a foster kid," Mallory paused, almost out of breath and smiled, "We worked it all out." "Died? You didn't-" Robert asked. "They're not real," Arthur said. "They'll be... invented as part of the spell. It's very powerful." "Why won't anyone remember me? Mallory." Robert blinked. "Leah and Mary were on a ride with us just today! What about the Zimmermans? What about your folks? What about Gretchen? You can't erase everyone's memories. You can't create three people from thin air." "I think the spell can," Arthur said. "According to Mallory's book, everyone who knew you will still have the effects you had in their lives, they just won't realize where they came from. Like a... a gift you like but, don't remember who gave to you. And as far as the Osters are concerned, memory's malleable, Robert. You've listened to enough RadioLabs to know that. The world will adjust to make a place for a fourteen year old orphan girl. It's something that they'll want to believe in. The book said that helps." Robert's eyes were getting heavier and he felt odd in places, the sheet felt as though it was moving over his skin. He wished he could see his body but, he could still only move his eyes. "We chose Oregon," Joy continued, "because, the book said that it'd make it easier to make reality fit if your new self was from far away. Plus, we thought that if any place besides Vermont could create a girl who'd be like you'd be, it'd be Portland." Robert looked very confused. Even with the calm over him, he was having trouble taking this all in. He was also starting to feel very sleepy. "Why not adopt?" he managed to ask, "I mean, that's not hard." "To risky," Arthur said. "We wouldn't know what we might get," Joy continued, then brightened a bit, "This way, we get you. We know you so well, Robert, you're practically family. You and April were so much alike. She loved you. And so do we." "This doesn't make any sense at all." Robert felt he should be screaming this but, he couldn't. "We know, but," Arthur said, his eyes slightly wet. " 'The heart has reasons of which reason knows nothing'." "Don't worry," Mallory chimed in, "you'll still be you inside! We don't want you to be different, we want you. And, you'll still remember how to do all the stuff you're good at," Mallory counted on her fingers,"Like riding, and drawing and music and all that. You're gonna be such a great tomgirl!" "Don't you mean 'tomboy'? What's a 'tomgirl'?" Robert asked dreamily. "Duh! That's like me and April. When you're a tomgirl you like doing some boy stuff but you like being girly, too." "Hold on. I don't like being girly. What do you-" Robert was more awake for a moment. "Oh, my god. You can change my brain? Don't change my brain!" "It's for your own good, dear," Joy soothed while she continued stroking Robert's now strawberry-blonde hair, "It will make it easier for you to be a girl." "I don't want easier. Why would I want easier?" Robert fought to stay awake but, the pull of sleep was getting stronger. "I don't want to be a girl at all. Please, Mal, don't change my mind..." "You'll still be the you we love," Mallory said, squeezing his hand. "I mean it." "Don't make me like guys, Mal, please don't," Robert whispered. His sleepy face was a mask of anguish. "Please..." Mallory bent down and put her face beside his. He could feel her lips brush his ear as she spoke in a whisper only he could hear, "Don't worry. I'd never, ever do that to you. Not in a million years. I promise." Mallory stood up, happy to see that Robert's face had relaxed a little. She reached to the table by the window and picked up another, larger sheet of the thick, translucent paper and the small silver knife. Mallory placed the paper on Robert's chest. His eyes followed it down and, before it went out of sight, he saw hundreds of words interweaving in a complex design. "It's time," Mallory said, offering the knife. "Joy, you're first." There was movement to his left as Joy stood and took the knife. She drew a deep breath and held the knife to her left thumb. "Upon my blood and my soul, I, Joy Margaret Westerfield, take full responsibility for the life I am changing and the world I am creating," Joy said. She drew a breath through clenched teeth as she pierced her thumb, drawing a large bead of blood. She reached down and pressed her bloody thumb onto the paper, "I want a daughter again." Robert felt the paper get oddly warm. Not warm from the blood, there was only a thick thumbprint of it but, from the paper itself. It pulsed and washed over his body; he felt a wave of sleepiness pass over him. Arthur took the knife from Joy and held it to his own thumb. Robert's eyes shut and he barely heard Arthur speak. "Upon my blood and my soul, I, Arthur William Westerfield take full responsibility for the life I am changing and the world I am creating. I want a daughter again." Another thumbprint and another wave of warmth that pushed Robert inexorably towards sleep. As he faded away, The last thing he heard Mallory's voice coming from far away. "Upon my blood and my soul, I, Mallory Rebecca Kitteridge take full responsibility for the life I am changing and the world I am creating. I want my best friend again..." "There ain't much that's dumber Than pinning your hopes on a change in another" -Ok Go; "Needing/Getting" In the pre-dawn light of the next morning, the birds outside his window began their morning cacophony. He stirred and opened his eyes just a little. He really loved the sound of dawn birds, he always had. If only sunrise didn't happen so early. He closed his eyes, rolled onto his side and stretched luxuriously. Suddenly, he stopped, his brow wrinkled. The sheets fell oddly against his skin and the mattress felt all wrong but, that wasn't the most puzzling thing. There haven't been any birds outside of his windows since he was a kid and certainly not outside the Zimmerman's guest bedroom. Where was he? His eyes snapped open and he looked around. The wall that he saw wasn't the Zimmerman's. It was off- white and this was a pale blue. Carefully, raised himself up on his elbow. As the covers fell away, they hung on his body strangely. He looked down at himself and with a yelp that sounded strange to his ears, he flung himself backwards until he was backed up against the headboard and wall. In a panic, he kept moving and kicking as though he was trying to get away from a spider. But, it was his own body he was trying to get away from so, after a few seconds, he calmed down enough to stop flailing. "W-w-wha-" he stammered then shut his eyes tight, screwing the heels of his hands over them. Rocking back and forth, he tried to calm himself. It felt like an eternity before he was ready to look again. Dropping his head down, he opened his eyes and gasped. It took a few moments for what he saw to register. The body he saw was not the slim, muscular, and rather hairy one he remembered. Now, it was hairless, just a little bit chubby and very female. Mesmerized, with more curiosity than panic, he began to examine his body. The first thing he touched was his belly, rubbing his now-small hands over the soft, hairless skin. The abs he worked so hard to achieve even a little definition to were gone, replaced by girlish softness. His hands moved down his belly nearer his crotch. He opened his legs wide to look at his change and moved his hands closer to his new vagina. He couldn't bring himself touch it and instead moved his hands to his slightly wider hips and down to rest on his soft thighs. He looked at his now-tiny feet. Strangely, they looked much closer than he remembered and he wondered how short he was now. His eyes worked his way up his legs. His calves were smoother and a bit chubbier than the thin, muscular "racehorse calves" as he called them when Gretchen teased him about how skinny his were. Then on to thighs that were softer and decidedly less muscular than the ones that had won races. His eyes moved to his chest, looking with fascination at the budding breasts and pink nipples. He could remember looking down at his hairy pecs for years and now looked at breasts poking softly out from a hairless chest. They were tiny, barely a handful for his now-smaller hands but they looked so alien. Raising his hands to and cupping them them, he felt a momentary disconnect. He'd touched plenty of breasts in his time and had felt his own pecs but, the feeling of touching breasts that were on his own chest was a very odd feeling. It startled him so much that he pulled his hands away and reached up to feel his face instead. As his hands touched his cheeks, he felt suddenly very stupid. He had no idea what feeling his face would accomplish, apart from noticing the absolute smoothness of his cheeks. He certainly wouldn't be able to tell what he looked like by touch. Feeling like an idiot, he dropped his hands. Hyper-aware of his body now, he moved carefully to the foot of the bed. He slowly crossed his legs trying to ignore the feeling of the sheets on his softer skin, of the added padding on his rear, of how much easier it was to bring his legs into lotus. Placing his hands one atop the other in his lap, he drew his naked body ramrod straight. Through half-open eyes, he watched his new belly rise and fall with his breathing. Time passed. There were footsteps in the hall and a furtive knock at the door. He didn't say a word and the footsteps retreated. It was a very long time before he finally spoke out loud. "They did it," he whispered. "It's real." He didn't dare talk louder. He knew his voice would not be the one he was used to. Even at a whisper, it scared him. Dropping his eyes, he noticed his hands and was suddenly struck by them. He examined them minutely, rubbing the dainty fingers and soft palms. These hands were his, they moved when he asked them to move, but they weren't his. They didn't exactly seem strange either but, they were... off. They certainly weren't the hands he had last night. What were his old hands like? He tried to remember but, who memorizes their hands? He looked for the things he did remember. The thin, spidery scar he had across the back of his left hand, from some unknown injury long ago, was gone. The slightly misshapen first joint of the right index finger, the aftermath of a badly healed rock-climbing dislocation, was healed. He studied the palm of his hand. The lines were less deep but, he couldn't tell if they were the same. Then something at once startling and comforting caught his eye. At the base of his right thumb, just below the webbing was a small black spot about the size of half a grain of rice barely visible beneath the skin. It was the bit of pencil lead that had been lodged there since a third grade pencil accident. He rubbed it gently. Was that all that was left of who he was? Was a tiny black speck beneath pale skin the only thing to show who he had once been? He felt tears start to sting his eyes. He shook his head to dispel the urge to cry. When he stopped shaking, he saw April's free-standing wood-framed dressing mirror standing across the room near the closet. In it, he could see the window at the foot of the bed and nothing more. He decided that had to see himself fully. It wasn't that he really wanted to but, to put it off felt like chickening out. He carefully swung his legs over the edge of the bed and dropped to the floor. The distance to the floor was greater than he expected and he fell. With a high-pitched "EEP!" that both surprised and embarrassed him, he caught himself just in time by the blanket. Pulling himself upright, he was startled at how much shorter he was. Taking a deep breath, he gauged the distance and direction to the mirror, then fixed his eyes on his toes. Slowly, carefully, he padded forward. He watched his feet in fascination, the dainty toes deforming softly as he made his way across the hardwood floor. It seemed like an eternity before the mirror came into his peripheral vision. As he saw his toes reflected in the mirror, he stopped. This was close enough but, now that he was here, he found he couldn't raise his head. He wondered why he was so scared to look. He'd been in this body for over an hour, what would looking in the mirror hurt? There was a difference, though, he knew that. In the past, he'd often found himself going to the mirror and seeing himself differently than how he perceived himself moments before. In the mirror he would be skinnier or fatter, leaner or more muscular, uglier or better looking than he imagined before he looked. The mirror was somehow more real and the thought of seeing his new body in full terrified him. Another deep breath and he forced his head up slowly. In the mirror, feet led to ankles and calves. The calves led to dimpled knees and the plump, yet athletic thighs. A nearly hairless vagina, nestled between the thighs was still startling. Despite himself, he found that he was starting to admire the reflection. The soft thighs led to hips that were just starting to round. Above the hips was the soft belly with, what he considered to be, a perfect innie belly button. He was lost for a moment, enjoying the view. That girl has a really cute belly button, he thought, I'd sure like to... Then he felt his abdominal muscles tense for an instant. When, at the exact same time, the muscles of the girl in the mirror twitched under her soft flesh, he was pulled back to reality in a painful flash that made him gasp. Those were his muscles that twitched. That was him in the mirror. He was- Then, almost out of his control, his eyes began to travel upwards. His breath started coming in shorter and shorter pants and he wondered if he would hyperventilate. His eyes moved past the waist and ribs to the budding breasts and small pink nipples. Strawberry blonde hair draped itself over the narrow shoulders down over the collarbones. Then the slim neck that led to the face. Time seemed to move slowly and every detail become prominent. The face was slightly rounded with small chin. The full, well-shaped lips that had a very small overbite that made them look as though they were smiling at an ironic joke. They parted and revealed teeth that were white and straight; the front ones slightly buck. The rounded nose was neither tiny nor large and just a little upturned. Then, when he reached the wide, fearful eyes, something between a whimper and a gasp escaped him. He stopped breathing. His eyes. Those were his eyes. The shape of the lids was different, the lashes fuller but, they were his eyes. They were the ones he looked at for three decades. The greenish-grey eyes that a girlfriend had once described "stormy sea eyes". He stared at his reflection unable to turn his head, fascinated by his own eyes. Then, as though he was hit by a cold breeze, a shudder passed through his body. Memories suddenly assaulted him and he flinched and blinked as though a flash had gone off in her face. She drew a hitching breath as her eyes searched the middle distance. Then, her lips turned up in a frightened smile for an instant. "My god," she breathed, "I'm- I'm..." A quizzical, slightly sad look came to her face and she looked as though she had just realized something important. "...Juliette Alexandra Oster..." "Is losing something that you love a blessing in disguise? who comes and goes into our life not for us to decide" -Devotchka, "Blessing in Disguise" An hour later, Mallory pushed the sliding patio door aside and walked into the Westerfield's breakfast nook. She found Joy nervously drinking tea and pretending to do a crossword. "Hi, Mrs. W. Is... she up yet?" she asked. "Good morning, Mallory. I heard her moving around pretty early, so I went up and knocked but, she didn't answer. I thought I'd make her some breakfast after a while," she looked towards the kitchen counter with a large pile of very cold pancakes sat forlorn,"But when I knocked on her door again, she shouted at me to go away. Very loudly, I might add." "Oh," Mallory looked disappointed. "That was about a half-hour ago. I don't think she's very happy with us" Joy said,"Maybe you could get her to come down and eat?" "I can give it a try." Mallory smiled with feigned nonchalance. "She's my friend, isn't she?" Mallory knocked quietly and receiving no answer slowly opened April's bedroom door. There was a short girl with strawberry blonde hair sitting in the window alcove looking out over the gardens in the Westerfield's backyard. She was dressed only in an over-large t-shirt that was April's old nightie. Robert had silk-screened one for Mallory and one for April last Christmas. In it's center was a stylized mountain bike wheel inside a blue heart; Mallory's was pink. Mallory had kept April's, though she couldn't say why, Last night, after the spell was complete, she left it folded neatly at the foot of the bed. "Um, Hi?" Mallory said tentatively as she closed the door behind her. The girl continued to look out of the window. "Who am I, Mal?" the girl asked without turning, partly to Mallory and partly to the world in general. "Can you tell me?" "Um. You're Juli-" The blonde spun around with surprising speed, pointed an accusing finger at Mallory and screamed. Mallory flinched as though struck and looked away. "DON'T YOU SAY IT! Don' t you dare say that name!" Her voice became a whisper. "Don't you dare." When Mallory looked again the girl was sitting with her hands in her lap; she was rubbing her right palm absently. Her gaze was fixed directly on Mallory. "Do you have any idea what it's like?" the blonde girl accused. "You know your name, don't you? I know my name. When I think of who I am, I get a name, just like you're supposed to. It's 'Juliette Alexandra Oster'. It's there as plain as day. My name equals Juliette. Juliette equals my name, right? But, it's not my name and I know that, too. I know what my name used to be. It was 'Robert Joseph Everett' but, it's just a name. It doesn't feel like my name, it just feels like a name. Except it's not, is it?" Juliette turned to face the window and seemed to study the gardens below. She was still talking pretty coherently but seemed close to babbling and Mallory was growing concerned. Did the transformation drive her mad? She moved closer and sat down very carefully on the cushion across from Juliette. Juliette noticed Mallory and looked up. Her eyes were searching, sad, her voice measured. "Can you even imagine knowing your name and knowing it's wrong somehow? It's like holding something in your hands that's... " Juliette held her cupped hands out to Mallory and mimed squeezing something, "... that's as hard as rock and as soft as Jello at exactly the same time. Something that's two things at once and doesn't know what it is. I can feel both things at once. It's infuriating. It feels like..," she closed her eyes, her voice catching in her throat,"Like me." Mallory bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She wanted to reach out to Juliette but she didn't dare move. "I've got memories, too, Mal," Juliette said, "but, it's like... like knowing a movie script by heart. I know things, I know everything, about my- about Juliette's life but they're just facts. I don't... feel anything about them." Juliette began to study her hands intently. "I know that m- Juliette's parent's were David and Magueritte Oster. They lived in Portland Oregon in a blue house. David was a surgeon who loved surf guitar music, mountain biking and samurai movies. He had a small scar that split the end of his left eyebrow and he made terrible puns. Magueritte was a cardiac nurse who retired to homeschool her daughter. She played the piano very well and had a beautiful singing voice. She was a dedicated gardener, a great cook and loved old Doctor Who episodes. She sang while she cooked, too. They..." Juliette paused. Mallory waited, eyes wide. "Every Thursday night the whole family would get together and they'd take turns reading a book aloud. It was a tradition for as long as they could remember. Friday was movie night and Juliette's friend Megan would come over. They'd watch a movie and David would make popcorn in a cast-iron kettle. Saturday was for being in the woods riding or hiking. I know this, I know all of this. I know Megan's laugh and the taste of the popcorn and the sound of Margueritte's singing." Juliette took a deep breath, held it for a few moments and began again, quieter. "I remember when the state trooper came to the camp and told Juliette about the fire and that her parents were dead. I remember the drive back to Portland, how huge the cruiser seemed, how concerned the trooper was. I remember the funeral. I know David and Margueritte aren't really real but, they're real in my head. As real as anyone. I know so much about them." She turned to Mallory again, eyes pleading, "Why, Mal? Why do I know this and it doesn't make me feel anything? David and Magueritte seemed like really nice people, people I'd really like and now they're dead and I don't feel anything. I mean, should I? They're as real to me as anything but they aren't real, are they?" Tentatively Mallory reached out her hand and laid her hand gently on Juliette's arm as Juliette dropped her head to her chest. A chuckle mixed with a sob left her. "Feeling nothing feels worse than feeling sad! I feel bad for not feeling bad. That's pretty messed up. Mal..." Juliette said, turning and placing her hand over Mallory's. "...I'm pretty messed up." Mallory found that she couldn't say anything. Thoughts and words jumbled up inside her and she didn't know how to make them come out. She couldn't get her mouth to work at all. Instead, she squeezed Juliette's hand until two words fought to the front of the queue. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking a little. They sat for a very long time in silence studying their hands. Outside the window the sounds of a summer Saturday drifted in. Somewhere in the neighborhood a lawnmower started and moved around somewhere in the neighborhood. Laughter from the Nickerson's pool drifted in along with the barking of a dog. The Westerfield's back door opened and closed and there were footsteps on the deck. The lawnmower sputtered into silence, it's job apparently done. "It was a while before I got used to my voice," Juliette said finally. "It sounded so strange. But, I knew you were coming, so I practiced. I'm so angry with you, Mal, I can barely think. How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends?" "We were- I mean: we are," Mallory said, then added quietly, "Um, aren't we?" "I'm not sure, anymore. I don't think so," Juliette said, pulling her hands away from Mallory's. "You've taken everything away from me. Everything! That's not what friends do." "I didn't do it to hurt you!" Mallory sobbed. "I did it because I miss April! I needed my best friend back and you said you'd do anything for me! Remember?" "Mallory," Juliette said, half laughing, half sobbing, "of course, I'd do anything for you but, I didn't mean this! You meant as much to me as anybody. More! I tried to always be there for you. Remember when you and April decided at the last minute to ride in the Leaf Blower in Stowe last fall and needed me to come? I cancelled a second date for that! A second date for crying out loud! There wasn't a third! What more do you want from me?" she gestured at her body,"Is this enough, Mallory? Is this all you wanted?" "I wanted..." Mallory hung her head. "I want... someone like April. You were so alike. You were my best friend, too but, I need a best girlfriend." "That's selfish!" Juliette snarled. "I know that," Mallory whispered. "But, it's true. All of it." Juliette glared out the window, her jaw tight. Mallory dropped her head and soon her shoulders shook but, her noiseless sobs didn't break the new silence that filled the room. It was a tentative silence that was unsure if it would be broken in moments or continue on forever. Not taking her eyes from the window, Juliette spoke. "I can never-" Her voice broke. She swallowed and started again. "You can't change me back can you?" "No. No, I can't," Mallory said, sniffing her running nose. "Nobody can. The book- when we finished the spell, the book disappeared. I think the spell took so much power to change so much stuff that the book used itself up." Mallory wiped her eyes with her t-shirt and watched Juilette's face wondering if she'd yell or cry but, she didn't. She just looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Figures," she said. "So, Mal, what happens to me now?" So many things jumped to Malloy's mind. So many things she wanted to say: Live as Juliette! Have fun! Ride with me! Be my best friend! She stayed silent, though, feeling that anything she'd say would be the wrong thing and any chance of Juliette being her friend again would be lost. "So. Here I am. All alone," Juliette said. "You're not alone" "Aren't I?" Juliette almost sneered. "Who can I trust, Mal? You? How can I trust you again after this?" "I don't know," Mallory said, "but-" "Tell me one thing, Mal," Juliette said, looking directly at Mallory. "Tell me the truth. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. It's the only way we can ever be friends again." Mallory's heart leapt and the mere suggestion that Juliette might forgive her and be friends again. "Anything..." she said. "After you cast the spell last night and I fell asleep, did you do anything else? Anything that I couldn't hear? Did you change me or my mind in any way? Any way at all?" Juliette looked deep into Mallory's eyes. Mesmerized, Mallory couldn't look away. "Remember, Mal, the truth." "I- of course." Mallory sounded slightly offended that Juliette would assume she'd lie. "I did do some other stuff after. But, it wasn't bad stuff! Honest!" "What did you do, Mallory?" Juliette's voice was even, controlled. Her eyes bored into Mallory's. "Well, the spell is open, sort of. You can work on it for twelve hours after it starts. Add stuff, you know? So, I went back to my room and added some more stuff. Personal stuff that I thought..." Mallory paused, waiting for an angry comment but, Juliette simply regarding her. Mallory gulped and continued. "I, uh, made it so you wouldn't get sick and that you'd heal pretty fast. You know, in case you crash? That's not bad, is it?" She paused, waiting for Juliette to speak. When Juliette stayed silent she tried to continue, "And then I, um, I.." "What?" Juliette said, eyes narrowing. "I, uh, wished that you'd get used to your body really quick," Mallory almost hunched nervously. Juliette blinked at this. Her body had been feeling less and less uncomfortable and alien as the morning wore on and that fact bothered her. Now she knew why and it actually bothered her less. Mallory saw the thoughtful look in Juliette's eyes and interjected quickly, thinking it was anger. She spoke as fast as she could, "Only, I knew you'd want to start riding and stuff again as soon as you could! I know how much it means to you and I didn't want you getting hurt and frustrated because you were all, like, uncoordinated and stuff 'cause your body's different and I just thought I could make it so you could ride and- and... stuff," she finished somewhat lamely Juliette took Mallory's left hand in both of hers. She brought it to her lips and closed her eyes as she kissed the knu