A New Lease Chapter 5 - While Her Guitar Gently Weeps free porn video

I would've glided through the house after my shower, had I been coordinated. I ended up successfully making it from the bathroom to the bedroom without tripping over my feet, which I considered a success. Physical therapy had taught me to walk, but it had not so far taught me to be anywhere near graceful. I plopped on the bed next to Liz, who was laying there reading. It was some fantasy novel that was popular with the younger-than-us crowd, it seemed a new book series had come along every year or so trying to be the next Harry Potter or Twilight, and failing miserably. "So how did it go?" She paused her reading momentarily, glancing at me. "Pretty good. I mean I got mostly clean." I replied, smiling at her. "Uh huh." She turned back to the book. "We get to go shopping tomorrow. And you're gonna have to show me a couple things." "Like what?" "Well, for one, how to shave my ladybits without damaging anything." Liz put the book down before replying, "It's not that hard." "Says the girl who's been doing it for the past 15 years. I just got this equipment recently, ya know." "Ok." She picked the book back up and began reading again. - I got up, not yet tired enough for bed. It was fairly early, I could get in a few more hours of activity. Liz was just laying in bed because she'd always had back problems, and was far more comfortable laying down than sitting up. I returned to my office, deciding it was time for some housecleaning on the computer. I began sorting through the past 2-3 months worth of automatic downloads. Our media center was set to download our shows as soon as they were posted to the torrent sites, but the filenames were usually gibberish. I'd been out of commission for too long, I needed this sort of function in my daily life to help me adapt and get back to normal. I got the files renamed, then turned back to the internet. Reddit had blown up with me agreeing to do the AMA. I had agreed to do it quickly, I loved Reddit and the community, and I wasn't going to turn them down. When I checked back, it had only been a couple hours since I'd first posted, and I had a huge amount of replies and messages. I fired up notepad and began writing my mass email to my facebook friends. Friends, family, and acquaintances, Hi, how ya doin? I just got back from the hospital today. If you haven't heard, I was in a car accident in April, which was extremely serious. I should have died, and I would have, if the doctors hadn't been medical geniuses. They were able to do a brain transplant, or a whole-body transplant, and saved my life at the expense of my body. My friend, and a friend to many of you, Christine Graham, was also in the accident, and was pronounced brain dead when we arrived at the hospital. I was extraordinarily lucky that she and I had a close enough tissue match (the doctors said it was almost unheard of in unrelated patients) to pull this off successfully. Now, it's June. I've been in the hospital for two months, healing from surgery and learning to use my new body. I had to have every muscle group retrained, and I'm about as coordinated as a 5 year old right now. I'm sure a lot of you may have questions. I was at a press conference this morning, actually, so most of you probably heard the news at least that way. I've been asked to do some interviews online and on TV, which I'll be deciding which ones to do over the next day or so. Some questions I don't know the answer to. Anything about money or legal issues or whatever, the lawyers are going to be the only ones to answer. The medical stuff I know some of, but I can't answer in too much detail. There's paperwork being filed to have my name changed to reflect the changes that I've had to deal with. I figured it was better to go with it, accept it, and try to deal with my issues quickly and head-on as opposed to living in denial for the rest of my life. My name is now Nicole, or Nicci. It is almost certainly going to take a long time for me to get used to it, but try to get used to calling me that. Legally, Liz and I were forced to divorce when my legal sex changed, but we are still together. I ask you give us a little privacy in that regard. I spent two months literally chained to a hospital bed, so if I'm not active online, it's because I've got a lot of actual living to catch up on, and learn how to do. So yeah, I'm still me, but with a new face and name. I'd really like to get a hangout going again, maybe play some D&D or something. I just need a little while for the craziness to settle down. They kept me pretty insulated in the hospital, but just the past few hours have shown me that I've got a lot to do to get back to normal. I copied the message into a Facebook message addressed to everyone I knew, took a deep breath, and hit 'Send'. My statement was in the ether, there was no way to un-say it. I always had that little bit of anxiety whenever I wrote something personal and put it out there for the world to see. The message didn't contain anything remarkably controversial, so I put it out of my mind and went back to my email. I deleted the most obvious "No" ones. The porn studio, the tabloids, etc. I had two I was seriously considering, a primetime news show and a show on cable that focused on extreme survival and medical tales. There were a couple of minor appearances I wanted to make, local morning shows, that sort of thing. I decided pretty quickly I was going to need someone to help me sort it all out. I knew just who to call. I absently reached for my phone, before realizing it wasn't there anymore. That was going to have to be rectified in the morning. I had most of my phone numbers memorized, but I was going to have to get the others back somehow. For now, it was getting late. I'd spent the better part of an hour writing the facebook message, since my typing was slower and more awkward with these hands. I decided to make a list of things I needed to accomplish over the next few days, weeks, and months. By the end of this week, I wanted to have back everything I had lost in the accident, my phone, wallet, everything of that nature. Things I had to have to get along in the world. By the end of the month, I wanted to be done with TV appearances and interviews, and have our finances figured out. I was going to have to go back to work next week, but I'd been out of work for months already. My job was still waiting for me, of course. Benefits come with working for a family member. I knew that I'd be working sporadically while all the media frenzy was going on. By the end of the year, however, I wanted to be settled in completely. Working full-time, in full control and command of my body, and without need for physical therapy. To that end, I'd need to supplement my regular PT with other forms of exercise. I needed to be able to type well, which meant finger dexterity. My hands were small now, I might be able to use a mini keyboard more easily now. I'd figure out an exercise for those later. My major issues were hand-eye coordination and balance. Video games were useful for working on hand-eye coordination, but balance I wasn't sure how to train. That's when it hit me, like a flash of light: Martial arts. Every kung fu movie I'd ever seen had, without fail, included a number of poses my body should be limber enough to pull off, but required expert balance and control. It seemed like the perfect way to go beyond what was expected of me by the doctors. There was another item to be placed on one of my lists, but I wasn't sure which one. At some point, I was going to have to suck it up and quit being afraid of my new body enough to get intimate with myself, and with Liz. I'd accidentally touched my pussy a few times, not including the shower earlier, which had filled me with mixed feelings of electric pleasure and fear. However, I was a very sexual person before the accident, and Liz and I had finally, after 6 years of struggling to find our compatibility, found ourselves having sex an average of 10 times a week. Now, it had been more than 2 months since I'd had any release, and I'd assume Liz was in a similar boat, since she wasn't interested in masturbation. After hesitating for several minutes, I put it on my "end of the month" list. It might happen sooner, but if we hadn't at least experimented some by the end of this month, that was going to point to more serious problems. As I saved my list and closed the program, I glanced at the clock. Only 9:30 PM. I felt like it should be midnight, based on how much I'd done that day. I swiveled my chair around to get up and rejoin Liz in the bedroom when I noticed Christine's guitar bag propped against the wall. I hadn't played guitar in over a decade, having hurt my hand and being unable to play for a few months eventually led to me selling my equipment. However, Christine's hands had had no problems with them, other than the doofus that was now controlling them. I lifted myself from the chair, grabbed the bag, and dragged it across the floor back to the chair. I unzipped it, taking note that it was made of a relatively cheap nylon. This wasn't a high-end guitar by any means, but it didn't matter. I pulled the flap back, revealing the contents: A cherry red stratocaster knockoff. At that moment, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I'd just found the ideal finger exercise. I hoisted the guitar into my lap, pulled the pick out that had been woven between the strings, and gave it an open strum. It was horribly out of tune, causing my head to shake with minor shock. There wasn't a tuner in the bag, so I did my best to tune it by ear. I still remembered the 5/5/5/4/5 rule, and had it as close to in-tune as I could get it within a few minutes. The next strum sounded much better. I couldn't remember any chords other than the old power chord I'd learned when I'd wanted to be in a metal band. I spent a few minutes playing a very slow rendition of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit" before experimenting with fingering positions. Between ear-splittingly bad choices, I discovered a few that sounded quite pleasant. I wasn't sure which chords I was playing but it didn't sound half bad. I could take some online lessons to figure things out better, but for tonight, I was having fun. I sat there, playing with my newest possession for so long, Liz eventually got up to come get me for bed. I glanced at the clock. It was close to midnight. I'd been playing for over two hours, but the time had flown by. I zipped the guitar back into its bag and leaned it against my desk. "So how's your book?" I asked Liz "Eh. It's not that great." "Ok then. You ready for sleeps?" "Yeah I guess." I got up and followed her back to the bedroom. The dogs were all over me again. This wasn't going to be easy. "I don't know if this is gonna work out too well," I said as I sat on the bed, squinting to keep the dogs from licking my eyes. Liz grinned and laughed at it "You'll be ok. They'll settle down." "Maybe." I instinctively moved to fill my CPAP machine, a machine I'd been forced to live with for almost 10 years, with water, before realizing I no longer was a fat man with Sleep Apnea. Yet another of my belongings I could throw in the trash. "Guess I'm not gonna need that anymore." "Nope" Liz chuckled. I pulled the covers back and slipped under them for the first time in this body. It was pleasantly warm, and I realized how cold I had been all day. My sense of temperature was a bit off, I gathered. Liz kicked her socks off and threw them in the hamper before joining me. The dogs were calmed down and at the foot of the bed, as Liz had claimed they would be, so there was an empty space between us. Instinctively, we both scooted to close the gap, and our hands found each other's. Holding hands was quite different. Before, I'd had large hands, able to fully close around Liz's. Now, the opposite held true, with Liz able to clasp mine in hers. We both laid on our backs, staring at the ceiling. "So, what are we gonna do tomorrow?" I asked, looking over at her. "Dunno. You said we needed to go shopping." She looked back at me. "Yeah. I had to borrow your shower stuff." "No wonder you smell good" Liz stuck her tongue out at me. "No, that's cause I used your smell good spray you never use anymore." "That too." "Yeah, I need shower stuff, and I need to find some clothes of my own, and get a few other things." "Okay. You know, UPS is paying for everything. It's actually pretty awesome. You could get a whole closet full of stuff on their dime." Liz mentioned something I hadn't thought about. UPS was paying all of the legal and medical expenses to avoid a lawsuit, since it had been their truck that had hit us. We were going to get a new car out of the deal as well, and apparently they were picking up the tab for any items or services that were necessary "for my rehabilitation and recovery," which in this case, meant new clothes, as well as anything else I needed. I immediately thought about my martial arts idea. Turns out our finances weren't going to be that difficult to figure out. "Well, I am going to need a new wardrobe. I could probably get rid of all of the secondhand stuff." "Yeah you could. Although there's a few things that aren't too bad, you might wanna hang on to." "Yeah. I mean I'm not going to throw out perfectly good stuff." Christine had just gotten back from a shopping vacation, and lots of my new clothes were high-end designer things that had barely been worn. "Ok." Liz looked back at the ceiling. "So tomorrow we'll go to Wal-Mart, and Kohl's, and maybe the mall." "Sounds good." Now it was my turn to look back at the ceiling. It had become a hobby when I was in the hospital, trying to count the dots on the ceiling tiles. Now, I didn't have any ceiling tiles to count. I was getting restless, and I turned onto my side and looked at Liz. "Hey" I poked her side to get her attention. "What?" She grinned and looked at me. "I'm bored, and not sleepy." "Well I'm sleepy." "Well no, you gotta talk to me." I winked at her. She cocked her eyebrow at me, "I don't gotta do nothing." "Yeah-huh" "Nuh uh" "Yep" "Nope" "Grrr" I smiled "Don't grr at me" she replied. "I'll grr if I wanna" "Betcha won't" "How you gonna stop-" I was cut off as she pulled me towards her for a kiss. It was much longer than our previous, experimental kiss. This one was loving, slow, and tender. My lips parted, and her tongue invaded my mouth. I was paralyzed, both enjoying the sensation, and afraid of what might happen. Finally, after the longest minute of my life, our lips parted briefly. We kissed again, and I laid my head on her shoulder. "Well, that's one way to shut me up." Liz chuckled, "Yep." "So...are we ok now?" "I think so." I kissed her again, and she rolled onto her side, facing against me. Spooning like this was a common occurrence when we laid in bed together, before sleeping; however tonight, it wasn't working. I was shorter now, I could no longer lock her in place with my legs. Sensing the issue, Liz rolled back onto her back, and pushed me onto mine. I took the cue, and rolled onto my other side. Liz scooted up against me, weaving her legs between mine. "You shaved your legs?" she asked. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?" "I just didn't think you'd start doing stuff like that right away." "You know me, I'm not gonna half ass anything." "Well, yeah." She draped her arm over me, resting it on my stomach. I felt comfortable wrapped in her arms, like a baby being swaddled. I couldn't worry about interviews, or money, or anything when she held me. As I drifted to sleep, I felt her hand creep up my stomach, but I was too far gone to stop her by the time she reached my breast. That night, I dreamed of sex for the first time since the accident. I wanted to get back to normal with Liz, whatever that was. - The next morning, I awoke to someone banging on the front door. It was far too early for that to make any sense whatsoever. I reached for my nonexistent phone to check the time. Not finding it, I attempted to move Liz away from me so I could get a look at her alarm clock. No luck. I slipped out from under her arm and, as quietly as I could, got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. Not the smartest move for an uncoordinated small girl who had just gotten out of the hospital, but one I would've made in my old body. I still hadn't adjusted to my new vulnerability. Standing out front was Liz and Adam's mother. I glanced at the clock on the living room wall, it was almost 9. Well, early was relative to people like Liz and I. I opened the door and let her in. She immediately pulled me into the tightest hug I think I've ever received. "I'm so glad you're okay. I got your message on facebook and I wanted to get over here to see how the two of you were getting on." "Well, I'm fine. Liz is still asleep. Or she's awake, being a lump on a log. Hard to tell with her." I got a smile out of her mother, which was a good sign. I walked back to the bedroom, letting the dogs out to greet the guest. I shook Liz "Your mom's here. Get up sleepybutt." She groaned as her legs started straightening out. "Why's she here?" "Why do you think? To check on us." "Great." Liz's mom didn't come up that often, she lived a good hour's drive away. I ran my fingers through my hair to try and straighten it out, while Liz brushed her hair. I was going to need one of those, too. My old combs were specifically made for curly hair, just like my hair care products had been. I grabbed a bra, a clean shirt, a purple tee with a cartoony glass of orange juice on it, and a pair of shorts from my dresser. I pulled my shirt off when I noticed Liz watching me. "Like whatcha see?" I winked at her. "I'm pretty sure everyone is gonna like it if they see what you have. I'm jealous." I couldn't tell if Liz was being sarcastic or not. She was fairly flat chested, but it was hardly a flaw. I found her body perfect the way it was, and wouldn't dream of her changing it. I fiddled with the bra. I hadn't put them on much before, just a couple times at the hospital. I couldn't quite figure out the 'easy' way that girls seemed to get them on and off in seconds, but eventually I got it hooked. It was black with aqua trim, pretty plain, but it was a pushup bra, which gave me a lot of cleavage, more than I was anticipating seeing when I looked down. "Well, apparently I just grew a cup size." Liz turned and looked at me. "Yeah, that kinda bra will do that." I grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head. It was fitted, and showed off my body quite well. The shorts were last. I plopped them on the floor, stepped into them, and pulled them up. They were shorter than I'd expected, and I felt exposed. Still, this is what I had to work with, it was too hot to wear long pants, and Liz and I had a lot of running to do today. I took a look at myself in the mirror. My hair looked like crap, but I was looking pretty good, in my opinion. I turned and followed behind Liz as we made our way to the living room. - The visit from Liz's mother was short, but nice. She didn't pry too much into our personal lives, that was one of the things I loved about Liz's family, they didn't pry, and kept to themselves. She mostly wanted to make sure I was feeling okay, find out what we were going to do today, and about work. After she left, we fixed breakfast. That's when I discovered how different my tongue was now. I could no longer stand the taste of eggs, a food I'd come to love fixing at any time of day. I finished my bacon, which was delicious, and my toast, but I was still hungry, so I picked at the disgusting food in front of me until Liz finished eating, then gave the dogs the rest of it. - Our first stop was the DMV. I needed a new ID. Fortunately, all the paperwork for my name change had come in the mail that morning, so we could hit the DMV and the Social Security office at the same time. I was now legally Nicole Thomas, a fact that at once both comforted and terrified me. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking 'You have been way too okay with all of this'. I realized it was all going to hit me at some point, things like this usually did. We did the smart thing, since the two locations were right next to each other. The Social Security office always had longer wait times, so we got our number there, then I ran next door to get my number at the DMV. Since they'd implemented smartphone apps, Liz was tracking them both on her phone. I could hop back over to Social Security if it somehow popped first. The DMV won the race, in the end, and when I was called, I had to be elevated to the supervisor. I had to give them two doctor's notarized statements, the legal change of name form, and Christine's death certificate to do everything that needed to be done. They had to delete Christine's image from the database so that facial recognition wouldn't get mixed up. Now, her face was legally mine and mine alone. That thought caused a tear to form in the corner of my eye. I had completely deleted Christine from existence, it seemed. I was waiting on my photo to be processed when the Social Security queue popped. I theoretically had 10 minutes before they'd move on, but in reality I had about two. Luckily, my new Driver's License popped out of the machine, I was free to go, and I made it back over there just as they were giving me the last call. Liz and I slid into the chairs provided and set the folder full of paperwork on the desk. The woman at the desk recognized me from the press conference yesterday, which made things easier. She still needed a metric ton of paperwork, which we had. All in all, once we were sat down, we were out in less than 15 minutes. The next stop was the phone store at the mall. Armed with a new Driver's License, as well as the paperwork proving that I was the owner of my previous account, I should have been able to get a new phone without a moment's holdup. That was not the case, however. We were there well over an hour, arguing with the manager. I had to sit there, in the store, and call the phone company to get it straightened out. Eventually, though, I walked away with a new phone, identical to my old one. I turned it on and was greeted by hundreds of text messages from people I barely knew. Apparently someone had posted that I was in the hospital, and that I'd enjoy some well wishing texts. Most of them were generic, like "Hope you recover soon", which brought a smile to my eye. There were a few well-thought out messages though. People kept saying how lucky I was to be alive. I realized then that I never learned the extent of the injuries that had led to them deciding a brain transplant was the safer course of action. - In my brief flashes of consciousness, I knew only pain. The idea of comfort, of happiness, was foreign to me. I saw brown, twisted metal passing through black metal that had been crumpled like tin foil. I saw blood clouding my vision. I saw asphalt. I heard nothing. No screams, no sirens, just cars driving by and slowing down on a typically quiet stretch of highway on a lazy sunday morning. - The flashback shook me. I hadn't had one since the accident. It had felt like a realistic dream that you weren't quite sure was real, only this one had been pulled from my memory. I scrolled down. I had a couple of picture messages. As I opened them, I realized I shouldn't have. They were pictures of the accident, taken by the police, and sent to me by my sister. When I realized what had happened, I had no need to wonder why they'd gone ahead with the brain transplant. I was almost crushed to death by the front end of the truck. The entire front passengers side of the car was gone, and I wasn't exactly sure how I'd managed to survive the initial impact. I had to sit on a bench at the food court, and barely made it off my feet before I doubled over crying. Everything hit me like a Mack truck. Christine, a girl I considered a friend, was dead, and she should have lived. I was spared by a spark of luck, and I should have died. I was a woman now, and my body was destroyed. I was a rational person, I knew the brain was the self, but the body provides the self image, and mine was distorted. I thought back to last night, looking in the mirror, declaring to myself that I was Nicole. The words rang hollow in my head now. Apparently this is what an identity crisis felt like. Liz brought me a drink, and I took a sip before making a mad dash to the nearest trashcan to throw up. Vomiting has a strange psychological effect. It has a way of calming you down, letting you feel you've expelled that which was making you upset. I had a moment of clarity, and realized that I was having an aggravated panic attack. I'd had panic attacks my entire adult life, and right now I was a psychological mess. I calmed down, and called my sister Vicki. She said she would call me in a prescription for a drug she prescribed for anxious patients, and helped talk me down. In another life, she could have been a great therapist. Since we were at the mall, we decided to shop around. I wasn't feeling particularly feminine, so we skipped Victoria's Secret. I had kind of wanted to go check it out, always wondering what was so special about expensive underwear. Instead, we hit up a couple of shops that catered to the younger crowd, filled with dance music that was far too loud to conduct routine business transactions. I wasn't going to go wild. I did need a lot of clothes, though, and I quickly did the math based on how much I'd had as a man versus how much I had now of Christine's, as well as how much Liz had. If I was going to throw out most of Christine's clothes, I was going to need a couple weeks worth of shirts for work and home, and at least a week's worth of pants. Some shorts that covered more than my ass would be nice as well. A full set of underwear, bras, and socks, and at least one pair of shoes. Right now, I was wearing her flip flops, which I didn't mind keeping, but her other shoes weren't appealing to me. At the first store, I picked out a couple pairs of jeans and a pair of shorts. At the next, a few off day shirts, mostly band and tv show related tees. I wasn't up for spending the whole day at the mall, however, so we decided to visit the department store near where we'd parked, then move on. There, I picked up a bunch of clothes for work, khakis and plain polos. Sizing was difficult at every store, none of the numbers made sense, and I longed for the Men's department, where everything was listed in inches. Finally, we made our way to the intimates section. I had little interest in most of what was for sale, but Liz kept holding things I'd never wear up to me. Finally, I broke down and asked, "Are you trying to tell me something here?" "Eh, just trying to see what you'd look like all dolled up." "Since when are you interested in me getting dolled up?" "Since I realized how much I love you, no matter what you look like." Liz wasn't one for saying emotional things like that, so her statement was both surprising and moving. In that instant, my fears alleviated. "So you're ready to deal with being in a homosexual relationship?" "I'm not homosexual. I'm not heterosexual. I'm you-sexual. Dork, you think anyone but you could ever turn me on?" There, in the middle of mini-pantyland (pantyland had always been my joke name for Victoria's Secret and the like), I burst out both laughing and crying. This time, I was crying with joy. My worries about my relationship were gone completely now. Suddenly, I felt a little braver. I decided I'd go ahead and try on a few different things, including a lacy frilly thing Liz insisted on. I was still conflicted about my body, but I'd resolved that whoever it really belonged to, it was mine now, to do as I saw fit. And right now, I saw pleasing my wife as the fittest thing I could do. Once I'd made that decision, something just clicked in my mind. Once I'd locked myself in the changing room, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Liz wanted me to wear these things, she was going to get an eyeful. I quickly stripped my clothes off, and snapped a picture of myself in my current underwear in the mirror. I sent that off to Liz with a winking smiley, then quickly stripped down to nothing. I took a good long stare at myself in the mirror. I was no longer someone I wanted to look at sexually, my body no longer aroused me. Christine had been beautiful, but now it was me I was looking at, and I was the beautiful one now. I felt a warm shiver run down my spine as I tried on the first silky undergarment I'd been presented. It was a deep maroon color, and I realized the design was significantly different than any of my other panties. As I looked in the mirror, I realized these were for one purpose and one purpose alone: Sex. They weren't meant to be worn for very long before being removed. I attempted a sexy pose, but probably ended up looking like a fool as I snapped a picture of my ass and sent it off to Liz. In the end, Liz ended up with a half-dozen pictures of me in various bits of lingerie, none of which I particularly wanted to buy, but I'd let her pick out one or two things and surprise her some night. I had a feeling that the sex issue was going to be dealt with well before the end of the month, if I could only get used to the idea of sex as a woman. I got re-dressed and headed back out to where Liz was. Judging by the bright red color of her cheeks, almost deep enough to match her hair, she'd received the pictures. I gave her a wicked grin as I walked up to her. "Choose" "What do you mean, choose?" Liz had given me the perfect opening. "Choose the form of the destructor!" We both had a giggle at that one. Ghostbusters had been the first movie I ever saw as a child, and I'd watched it so many times she loved it almost as much as I did. "But seriously, pick a couple things out, you saw how they look on me." She gave it some thought and handed me the maroon silky panties, along with a matching camisole. Perfect. I picked out a few bras, they were mostly plain, although I had always been a sucker for Hello Kitty, and I couldn't help but pick up a matching bra and "boy short" panty set. As far as panties went, I stuck with string bikinis, I'd found about a dozen I liked. As we were heading to the checkout desk with an armload of stuff, we passed by the accessories. I managed to pick out a belt that didn't look too silly, and I considered picking up a bag of some sort. Women's pants didn't have very big pockets, so trying to carry everything I needed was going to be a hassle. Liz and I both decided that was probably a little too much for right now, so I just grabbed a small wallet that would hold my ID and other cards that I was going to have to replace. We checked out, and I felt good about what I'd found. As we made our way back to the car, I linked my arm in Liz's. I may have been a psychological mess, but I was in love, I was loved, and for the first time in a long time, I was happy. - The next stop was Kohl's. That's where Liz and Christine had both bought most of the clothes they owned. Hopefully, I'd have some luck here finding some clothes I liked. The day was wearing on, however, and it was getting uncomfortably hot out. I was glad I'd worn shorts, even though they showed off a little too much for my comfort. Making it into the store was a huge relief, but Liz immediately dragged me off to look at clothes. I'd never hated shopping, but it seemed Liz was having a little too much fun with this. She'd never really had any female friends, though, so it kind of made sense that she was having fun with it. At Kohl's I got a bunch of assorted tops, some more shorts, and two pairs of shoes, one for at home or going out, the other for work. I also made a detour to the music store next door, and picked up a few things for the guitar: New strings and picks. A tuner should be in one of the boxes, but if not I could always come back. The last stop was Wal-mart. I needed some basic house supplies. The drive from Kohl's to Wal-mart was the longest of the day, so far, but I was content, since I had Liz's hand clasped in mine as she drove. I laid my head back, closed my eyes, and, for the first time, I wasn't imagining myself as my old self. It was if my sense of self positioning had finally adjusted itself, letting me feel a little less awkward about my situation. When we arrived at the monstrous cavern of a retail establishment, we luckily found a parking spot close to the entrance, which let us avoid some of the heat. It was the afternoon, and I found myself getting quite hungry, especially considering that my breakfast had been fairly sparse. I gravitated toward the grocery section, my stomach grumbling unhappily with me. Liz pulled me back on track, however, and we agreed we'd stop and get something to eat after we left. We'd passed one of my favorite restaurants on the way from Kohl's, but we could find something else near here. We might even order a pizza and have it delivered to the house. We only meant to pick up a few things, but in the end, we filled the cart, since I couldn't decide on one shampoo (and neither of us were sure whether I needed anything specific). A new razor and blades, two hairbrushes, a new sonic toothbrush, body wash, a softer bath poof, and Liz insisted I try out a hair removing cream that had just come out. I got a step stool that made up for my lost height to go in the kitchen, as well as a few extension chains for the ceiling fans and lights at home that I could no longer reach. At the pharmacy, I went ahead and picked up some cough drops, as my throat was still hurting. I ripped the bag open and began sucking on one as we waited in the checkout lane. Liz and I were chatting about nothing in particular, when someone ran up to us. I didn't recognize her, but she ran up and gave me a big hug. "I haven't seen you in so long!" she exclaimed. She was a large girl, about Christine's age. "Apparently not. Listen, I-" I tried to reply. "Oh come on, surely you didn't forget me. We were in half the same classes our senior year." "Hey, I gotta tell you something, it's gonna be hard to explain," I began, "I'm not who you think I am. I was in a car accident and they had to transplant my brain. It was on the news just yesterday." "Well if you don't want to talk to me you don't have to make up some bullshit story," she fumed. This was just what I needed. "I'm not making it up. Here, look at my ID." I pulled my wallet out and showed her the ID, showing my name as Nicole. The look on her face was both confusion and anger. "I coulda sworn you were Christine..." "Well, I was. At least my body was. Her body. Whatever, pronouns are confusing, but listen, I'm sorry, I hate to tell you this, but Christine was killed in the same car accident I was in. That's why I was able to be transplanted like I was." "But you look just like her." I sighed, dejected. "Yes, I know. Listen, check out the news from last night when you get home, you should be able to find out what you need to know." With that, she turned and slowly plodded away. Liz turned to me and said "Well, you handled that well." "I guess. I feel like I was a dick to her though." "It happens." The line was moving, and Liz started unloading the cart, leaving me behind it alone. Even though she was less than 5 feet away from me, I still felt vulnerable. I felt like there were tons of people staring at me, and I could feel the unease rising in my stomach. I glanced around and saw nothing, but I felt the need to check right behind me. There, I found the man in the cart behind me trying to avert his eyes. He'd been staring at my ass the entire time. I shuddered to think of how many people had checked me out already today. I felt dirty. I looked ahead at Liz, who had just finished unloading. "We need to hurry up and get out of here. I don't like being around this many people." Liz had seen the look on my face after I'd seen the man staring at me. She nodded, but there wasn't anything we could do other than wait for the cashier to ring it up, and she was taking her time. An older woman, who had to make a comment about every item. She was nearly done when she looked up and saw me, instantly recognizing me from TV. "Oh my goodness, you're that girl from the hospital! Had your brain worked on!" "Ummm, yeah I guess you could say that." I replied. I was anxious to get out of the conversation, and the store, and back home. Anxiety, rage, and hunger were combining in me to form a venomous combination of emotion. I couldn't say another word, but the cashier was content to ramble on about a friend of hers who'd had a brain tumor removed or something like that. I wanted to put my fist through this woman's ribcage. I bit my tongue, gave the fakest smile in recorded history to her, and pushed the cart away from her as quickly as possible once we were done. Liz's car was loaded down with bags from a half-dozen stores now, and I still needed a few things I could only get by shopping online. Key pieces of my wardrobe from my days as a man needed to be replaced. I borrowed Liz's phone to order pizza, as I felt like going straight home. When we got home, it still had 20 minutes to go, so we got the car unloaded and I decided to try and brush my hair. As I ran the brush through my hair, I realized exactly how relaxing a sensation it could be. Being home itself was a huge relief, but I could have wasted half the day away, drawing it out and watching my hair cascade down in waves. The knock at the door awoke me from my hair- induced trance, and I joined Liz in the living room as she paid the driver. My thoughts were consumed with food lust as I opened the pizza box. I barely registered that I needed to grab a paper plate before the first bite reached my lips. I had never tasted something so delicious in my life. By the time I was done, I felt like I must have eaten half the pizza, as I was stuffed. I laid back on the couch, and Liz put her legs in my lap. Things were mostly back to normal already, or so it seemed. I turned the TV on, and managed to catch the afternoon news before it went off. There was a bit on me, of course. I was probably on cable news still. I turned the TV off and closed my eyes. I dozed off, and found myself dreaming of myself as a rock star.