The Dark Of The Moon: A Sock In The Mouth free porn video

A Sock in the Mouth by Christopher Leeson Josette had a face and even a body like the old time troubadours used to sing about. Wow! That golden cascade, those swinging hips. I kept asking myself, "How can a nobody like me be so lucky?" and "How long can it last?" I was absolutely crazy about her, and who could blame me? She dressed the way I would have wanted any girlfriend of mine to dress - in mini- dresses and stiletto heels. The one worry I had that kept me from springing into the air and clicking my heels was the fact that I knew that no girl like her could possibly stay interested in somebody like me. Every day was a struggle to keep from awakening from what was a beautiful dream. I never understood exactly how I had gotten sucked up into paradise. The dream had started in early summer, when I saw her downtown looking gorgeous. With my heart beating like a hammer, I went up and said, "Hi, Josette." Instead of looking pained and turning away, like every other girl I liked would do, she said, "Darrell. Hi. I was going over to McDonalds. Want to come?" That really threw me. I hadn't realized that she knew my name. What was going on? Gorgeous girls only acted friendly on the Disney Channel. Though knocked back on my heels, I managed to say "Yeah, sure," or something that meant the same thing. Hell, if she had been a wanted serial killer, I probably would still have said 'yeah.' That's how much I needed -- deep down -- to be seen around town with a girl like her. We got in line and ordered our meals. I was worried that Josette was playing some sort of practical joke and that I'd be going home heartbroken. Instead, a miracle happened under those Golden Arches. While I sat across from Josette, pretty much speechless, she said, "I've heard that you know everything about Harry Potter -- the books _and_ the movies. That's really cool." I'm just not used to being talked to that way. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd asked her to go with me to _X-Men, Days of Future Past_. Usually, the females of the species hate the movies I brought up, but instead making an excuse and heading for the exit, Josette said, "Great. I'll pick you up tomorrow, about six-thirty." I guess she'd known that I didn't have a car. When we finished our chips and burgers, Josette said she had to get back to her shopping. I suspected it was really a brush-off, but from the door she looked back and winked. I half expected that she wouldn't show up to take me to the theater, but she did. After that first movie, I saw a lot of Josette. Sometimes she made suggestions about where we should go. And they were good places -- like that comic book convention out at the Holiday Inn. She seemed serious about comics and bought an armful of _Angel_ comics that day, mostly the _After the Fall_ miniseries. Her tastes were super. Instead of rolling her eyes and glancing at her watch every time I brought up a topic of conversation, she'd tune in and ask smart questions, like, "Wasn't it dumb to kill Katherine Pierce? What are they going to do without her? And don't you think it sucked that she seemed to go to hell when most of the other characters, including some of the heroes, have done things even worse?" Whenever I'd asked her out, she'd always say, "Yes." By that time in my life, I had ceased to hope that any pretty girl even knew the meaning of the word "yes"! We'd only been dating for a week before I was showing her my pulp magazine reprint collection -- at home and in my room. My folks couldn't believe their eyes when I introduced Josette as a friend and then guided her upstairs. After doing so much that for my status with the folks, I would have done anything for her. Our relationship got better and better. We had so many things to talk about. The rest of the summer was great. Better than great. Then school began, but that was a good thing, too. It gave me the chance to show Josette off around Daniel Kassler High as my girlfriend. People started looking at me as if I were a human being, a winner, instead of the Loser from the Black Lagoon. Before Josette, I always had to go it alone socially, unless I was with the guys, mostly wargamer buddies and sci-fi fans who couldn't find dates either. In those days, I tried to keep clear of the favorite spots where the couples hooked up, especially the beach. But now, with my arm around Josette's waist, her in that Rio-style bikini, I had self-respect -- and also the respect of the people who counted most: the jocks and the musicians. When other guys tried to move in on Josette, she always cut them off short. They simply couldn't understand what they were doing wrong. I couldn't either, frankly. Why did a svelte beauty with everything going for her want to hang with me? If this situation seemed too good to be true, it was. I've been talking about Josette as if she had appeared like a mirage out of nowhere, but that wasn't exactly true. I remembered seeing her around the school for the last couple years. She hadn't looked at me once in all that time, and I had tried my best not to let her catch me looking at her. What had changed in the universe that day when I'd said hello to her downtown? It was a total mystery, but I wasn't complaining. After school began, I suggested that we study together sometimes. Josette was always appearing on the honor roll and she didn't need help from a struggling C-student like me, but studying would give us another excuse to be together. Even though she must have guessed my ulterior motives, she went along with the scam. Life was so incredibly good that I could almost forget that there actually _was_ something wrong with our relationship. And that one thing was humongous. For whatever reason, sex was out of the equation. **** Trying to get Josette into bed was like trying to coax a cat into a traveling cage. The only difference was that sometimes you can actually cage a cat without violence. But I could never get Josette to make naughty with me. She was never mean when she said "Uh-uh, no way!" but she absolutely wouldn't put out. Not at all. Zilch. That hurt. It left me wondering. What was my appeal to a girl like that anyway? If she wasn't hot for my bod, what else did I have going for me? My brain? Not likely. Whatever it was, I wanted in on the secret, so that I could give her enough of it to drive her crazy with passion. There's an old saying, "Leave well enough alone." But that line was probably coined by some paunchy old nerd who had never gotten close to a babe during his whole life. Even though every ounce of good sense told me to back off, I had it so bad for Josette that I just couldn't act smart. Before I realized it, I was nagging her about getting naked just about every chance I got. Josette had a will like iron. She somehow got it into her head that the clothes we wore were provoking me, and so started to dress less like a Hollywood goddess. She was showing up in things like plaid shirts, dungarees, and sneakers whenever she knew that we would be getting together. I hated the fashion change, but a body like hers looked good in anything. And I told her exactly that -- every time I got her backed into a corner. Though I never stole a kiss, I never got a knee in the groin either. I did get a kick in the shin every once in a while. It seemed like the more effort I put into being romantic, the more Josette was driven to distraction. I was beginning to worry that if I kept going for the prize I'd be left back where I started -- alone. Fortunately, things didn't go that far. Or should I say, _unfortunately_ things didn't go that far. * * * * It was the second week of school, the day before the dark of the moon - - and that detail is important. Josette came over to study, but it looked like she was having trouble concentrating. Deciding to shut the books, I brought out _Elric_, the-out-of print Avalon Hill game, to do a few turns. But her mind still seemed to be off in the clouds. After a little while, she took out this small vial, the kind that lets a person jiggle out one drop at a time, like an expensive herbal oil. She handled it very carefully, as if it held hydrochloric acid, and put a couple dabs on a Q-tip. She held it up to my nose. "I'm thinking of wearing this fragrance to school, Darrell. Take a whiff. What do you think?" I shrugged. It had a tangy scent, like lavender. "It'll make you smell like a New Age shop," I said. "What you're already wearing is better." "Are you sure? It's supposed to boost a person's output of serotonin, the happiness hormone. Please, give it a real chance." She started tickling my stubbly upper lip with the damp cotton, right under my nostrils. I liked the sensation and saw no reason to protest. "I wasn't sure about the bouquet myself at first," she said, "but the more I breathe it in, the better I like it. Is it the same for you?" Familiarity didn't make the smell any sweeter to me, but I _was_ getting some sort of tingle. I didn't know if the reaction was coming from the scent or from its contact with my skin. "You'd smell like a cherry orchard wearing anything," I finally told her. "Like skunk?" "No, not that extreme. Not even Selena Gomez could pass muster in skunk." "Well, all right then," she sighed, taking the Q-tip away. She dropped the cotton swab into a sandwich bag, which she then put into a small pocket of her purse. The motion was so careful that it was almost as if she was afraid of touching the oil herself. "Why don't you just toss it into the wastebasket?" I asked. "Or won't it stand up to a forensic examination?" "Silly," she replied without explanation. "You wouldn't poison me," I said. "So, what is it?" "An aphrodisiac -- a bogus one, I guess," Josette answered, her tone a little forced. "What do you need that for? I'm about as hot around you as I can stand to be. If you doubt it --" "You're right, I shouldn't have picked on you for a subject." Then she smiled. "It's just that you're the only person I'd risk experimenting on. Wouldn't it be gross if I'd tried it on any of those grabby guys at school and it worked?" "That sure would be gross," I agreed. The idea of Josette alone with some turned-on rival was nightmarish. "But, hey, I could be a grabby guy too if you gave me half a chance." She only smiled. We tried a couple more game turns, but the Mistress of War just didn't seem to be there with me anymore. "Don't you like _Elric_?" I asked. "I know there's a lot of carnage and that turns most girls off." She grinned. "I'm not like most girls, Darrell. Didn't I eat you alive in _Drive on Stalingrad_?" I grinned right back at her. _Drive_ was a sizzling game, to be sure. The Nazis blitzing deep into Mother Russia practically yelled "rough sex." It seemed like there had to be a sexual angle to make any pastime really great. "Yes, you did. Most girls are boring. You're - - unbelievable. Do you know what I like most about you?" She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. As if you ever stopped staring at them!" I chuckled. "No, they're Number Two. I like your lousy taste in men." Josette glanced at me for a second. "Are you taking about yourself? You shouldn't. Darrell, without a friend like you, my life wouldn't amount to much. As an animal species, human beings aren't hard wired to go it solo." "I can buy that." "Good. Can I come by again after supper, tomorrow?" "Sure, but you sound like you're getting ready to leave." "I guess I am. I'm just not into studying or gaming tonight. Tomorrow's a big day and I've got a lot on my mind." "What's happening?" "I'll tell you all about it after school. And, please, whatever you do, be here to meet me and, absolutely, don't go out before I show up. I have to tell you something ultra-important." "You're making it sound ominous." "I don't mean to. Let's just say that I'm planning a fantastic weekend for the two of us." "I can't wait. But can't you give me a hint?" "Sorry, a hint might spoil everything." She packed up her things very quickly and then I walked her to the door downstairs. Left alone, I finished my homework solo. At ten, I turned in, hoping for a long dream about Josette Melford, one in which she wasn't vulgarly overdressed. The only dream I remembered, though, concerned some guy trying to sell me a canoe paddle for the car that my dad had just given me. * * * * The next day was school as usual. I got near to Josette only a couple of times, but, to my chagrin, she seemed high-strung and standoffish. The one solid thing she said to me was "Hey! Darrell! Remember, I'm seeing you tonight. Wait for me at home." I wanted to do that. Tonight, if she was in a good mood, I'd tell her what I'd been thinking about. In a nutshell, if the two of us went to the same university, we could take a kitchenette apartment together near the campus. I could sell it to her at first as a platonic relationship that would help us save money, but once we were living in the same room, I hoped that nature would take its course. The rest of my day was filled with fantasies about the two of us creating a bull market for condom manufacturers. The entree at dinner that night was good, but by the time I'd emptied my plate, I was feeling sort of "off," and excused myself. Mom noticed my unsteadiness and asked about it. Except for being a little tired and unfocused, there wasn't too much to tell her. "I'll check you out about bedtime," she said. "I'm not a kid anymore," I reminded her. "Grown men still get sick. But I promise not to tuck my baby boy in." "Thanks." Upstairs, I shed my jeans and hit the mattress like a rock. I didn't register anything more until I felt Loren Melford poking my ribs and saying, "Hey, come out of it, Darrell. We've got some important stuff to talk through." Loren Melford? That name? Why had that name popped into my mind? I suddenly remembered. He had been my best friend for two years. But where had the guy been lately? Before I could sort it out, I felt a sock being stuffed into my mouth. At least it was a clean sock. "Don't scream, bro," Loren whispered, holding my arms flush to the mattress. "You're going to want to yell your tonsils out, but everything's cool. You'll understand it all in a minute." I wanted to get rid of the stocking, but my wacko bud was still holding me down and I couldn't reach it. I was normally stronger than he was, but I still felt weak. "Okay, listen, Darrell. I want you to sit up and take a look at the mirror. Don't be scared, no matter what you see. It's not forever, but if you freak out and start howling, your folks will come up. That'ld be bad. If you told them anything, you'd regret it for the rest of your life." Mirror? What was I supposed to see? What could be so horrible that I could go nuts at the sight of it? Had I broken out in a pox? Why should I get the pox if I never got the sex? "If it makes things any easier, just tell yourself that this is a dream. Nothing in a dream can hurt you." He eased his hold. "Okay, sit up, nice and easy." Bewildered, I pushed myself up. Blinking away the blur, I saw Loren's back reflected in the door mirror, but I also saw someone beyond him -- someone I didn't know from Adam. Or should I say Eve? She had long, dark, unkempt hair. Her eyes frowned with bewilderment, and she had a sock in her mouth, just like I did. Except for the misplaced stocking, she looked pretty good. I yanked the sock from between my teeth, and the girl in the mirror did the same. Loren squeezed my arm. "Remember, no shouting. Trust me." I still couldn't see myself in the glass, only that girl. She had on some kind of off the shoulder top and a simple pendant necklace. Whoever she was, she looked like the sort of Barbie doll that I'd like to get to know. But there wasn't supposed to be any girl in my room. Had Loren brought her? And why was she only wearing panties and a top so loose that wouldn't stay up? I didn't object to casual dress, but.... Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Loren take a letter from my nightstand. "It looks like your name is 'Charlayne Rivers' now. Hmmm. I like the sound of it." "Charlayne? What do you mean my...." Then I realized that my voice sounded 'way wrong. "Charlayne," I repeated. "Charlayne!" It still seemed off. "Fee-fi-fo-fum." What came out of my pipes had a soft sound, not at all my usual timbre. I reached back and stroked my hair in bemusement, but found more of the stuff than I'd bargained for. "Easy now, bro; sure, you've got longer hair, but it's no big deal," Loren said. "For your own good, don't say anything above a whisper. If you get excited, I may have to put that sock back into your pie hole." "What the fuck are you talking about?" He grinned. "Come on, Darrell, you never liked dirty-mouthed girls. Don't be one yourself." Girl? I glanced back at the mirror. That was it! I was dreaming that I was a girl. What I saw was supposed to be my own reflection. Was Loren just a part of the dream, or was this a hallucination? I touched my face. My stubble was gone. Out of the corner of my eye, the girl was touching her face in the same way. "A dream," I mumbled. "Sure, it's a dream," said Loren. "No sweat. Listen, I don't have a lot of time. If I don't do my own thing right away, I'll be stuck looking like this till the next dark of the moon. That would be bad; I'll be able to help you a lot more if I'm a girl, too." Had I heard him right? "Wha...?" He took a handful of leather bootlaces out of a bag. "When you see what happens to me, you'll probably start yelling bloody murder. So I'm going to have to hogtie and gag you again, just till it's over." I think I would have fought being tied up a lot harder if I weren't so absolutely sure that I was in Dreamland. To my annoyance, he shoved that damned athletic sock back into my mouth and fixed it in place with a nylon he found somewhere. Then he stood off. "All right, good," he said. "Now watch this, but for Christ's sake, don't flip out." He took a little vial from his bag; it looked like the same bottle that Josette had shown me the night before. Taking a Q- tip, he moistened it with oil from the bottle. "The magic oil can be put on a person anytime, but it only comes into effect during the dark of the moon, after sunset," he explained. "I put the magic oil on your upper lip yesterday. Tonight, the magic changed you, but what I dabbed on myself last month wore off at the same time. I want to be Josette for another month, though. The last time I tried this the new spell took off like a rocket." With these pretty much meaningless words, Loren intently rubbed the oily Q-tip into the back of his left hand. Almost at once, Loren seemed to get a little unsteady on his feet. "I'd b-better lay down before I fall down," he stammered. And so he did, onto a pile of laundry. But it didn't look like the same laundry that I usually left in a heap in front of the hamper. It looked like the laundry of some teenaged girl who was about as bad at housekeeping as I was. For the first time, I eyeballed the room around me. It wasn't my room. The colors, the decorations, the posters, and the clothing, were all wrong. But, when I looked more carefully, I could see that it was structurally unchanged. Someone had redecorated my room into some a teen-girl chaotic mode. 'A dream,' I told myself. Loren lay moaning, but it was the sound of someone in blissful sleep, not pain. What I saw happen to him over the next minute convinced me, more than ever, that I was hallucinating. It was like watching one of FX morphs of one person into another, like they do in _Grimm_, only this one was drawn out longer. Loren's clothes were changing, too, getting smaller to fit his shrinking build. When he looked up groggily, I saw not Loren, but Josette Melford, now dressed in a shirt and jeans, which wasn't unusual for her. Josette Melford? She'd entirely slipped out of my mind. Now she was back, and my memories of Loren and Josette were, all of a sudden, jumbled up weirdly. Then it hit me. Loren and Josette didn't exist separately. By a flash of inspiration, I was now absolutely certain that they were the same person! "Oh, Jeez," Loren -- or rather -- Josette said. "It really floors a guy, but it gets easier to handle each time." She got up then, all wobbly, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Darrell, you probably still think that you're not with it. We'd better keep you tied up and gagged until you understand what's what." Not liking that idea, I grunted a protest. "This is magic," Josette said. "When it makes people change, other people don't realize it. Like, you couldn't remember Loren Melford before, right? No matter how much the world changes, people will think that it's always been that way. Downstairs, your folks and your brother and sister wouldn't notice anything strange if you came down as Charlayne. You can probably remember me both as Loren and Josette now. That's because you've become a user -- of the oil. It creates some kind of alternate reality, but I don't really understand how it works. "You're probably wondering why I hexed you. A lot of reasons. Like, I want to hang with you, but all you want to do is to get into my pants. I really like you, Darrell -- Charlayne -- whatever -- and I've been wanting to tell you the truth, but there are rules. You wouldn't like the penalty that comes with breaking the rules of magic." I shook my head, wanting the gag out of my mouth, but she kept talking. "Now that you're enchanted, I have to warn you about the taboos. The bottle label says that if you violate a rule, the change becomes permanent. Or, if you're in your boy shape when you do it, you won't be able to change into a girl again, not ever. "The most important thing is that you can't tell anyone about changing your shape, not unless he's an oil-user himself. The first time I read the directions, I thought the whole business was nuts. But the basic idea seemed awfully sexy. Dab on a little oil and you turn into your favorite sort of girl. I decided to test it first on one of my mom's lab rats. When it didn't seem to hurt it at all, I decided it was a fake. But if it was a fake, I thought it should be safe to experiment on myself, like Dr. Jekyll did. "The first time I rubbed it on, I didn't really expect anything to happen. Nothing did happen, in fact -- not until the dark of the moon. That's when I suddenly turned into the girl you've been going gaga about. It was scary, but after I calmed down, I realized that I'd be stuck that way for a month and had no choice but to deal with it. I managed not to freak out and avoided violating the 'no-tell' rule,' even with Mom. "It was really strange to have her talking to me as 'her little girl' as if nothing had happened. Fortunately, school was out; that made social adjustment easier. Even so, I didn't go outside for two days. Then I put on some of the girl clothes in 'Josette's' closet and took a walk to the strip mall. It went okay, so I rode the bus downtown the next day. For the first time, I was able to go into a Victoria's Secret Store and _really_ look around, without having people think I was a pervert." I grunted again, to let her know I wasn't buying it. "After I figured out that no one remembered Loren, I started to have even more fun, but it was riskier being a girl than I expected. Boys turn on so easily. Just saying 'hello' is enough to start some of them groping. I had to be very standoffish, until I saw you downtown. If you hadn't talked to me first, I was ready to say hello to you. Things started out all right with us, but pretty soon you started nagging me for sex. I wasn't sure whether I should tough it out or break up with you. I definitely couldn't tell you straight-out who I was, because that would violate the taboo. I'm not planning to stay this way for the rest of my life, naturally. Who wants to slowly change into an old lady? "But if I called thigns quit with you, I'd be alone again; what's the fun in that? Then I got to thinking that if I gave you some of the oil, I'd get around the taboo, and be free to explain everything. Okay, that sounds selfish, but don't sweat it. You'll only be a girl for a month. I don't like sharing my oil anyway; I only have enough to last a few years, depending on how often I feel like being a girl. "You're probably going to be sore at me for roping you into this, but it's going to be a real blast for you. You don't just become a girl, you become the best girl possible! And think about how it's going to be once your month is over! We can go back the way we were, doing fun things together. People will go on thinking that we're sleeping together and they'll turn green with envy!" I was stunned. It had all been a lie, our whole relationship. Josette had only been role-playing. I'd never actually had the kind of girlfriend that I'd really wanted. I hoped and prayed that what I was hearing and seeing was only a dream. My nutty buddy must have seen the misery in my eyes. Frowning, he stood up. "Come over to the mirror and have a look at yourself." She half-carried me and, a moment later, had me up against the glass. My sweater was an oversized football jersey made for teen-girls, and, as I've said, I had on a pair of panties. I had gone to bed wearing a different sort of sweater and my skivvies. "Ouch!" I yelled into the gag. Josette had tweaked my backside. "You deserve it, you bun duster. You had no business putting me through the groping mill like you did. The pinch should at least tell you that you're wide awake. If you go on thinking that this is a dream, and that you can get away with saying or doing any dumb thing, you might say the wrong words to the wrong person. "We'll have to get you through school tomorrow without any big slip- ups. You're living in an alternate reality now, so you might find out that you have a different class schedule. We have to hunt up your student info and get things right, so that people won't think you've come down with amnesia. But first, you have to listen to all the saved messages on your cell phone, and read all the personal letters you can find. If Charla has a diary, super-great. That kind of documentation will tell you something about your alter ego's life and what's she's into. Once you squeak through school on Friday, we'll work on making you a more natural-acting girl over the weekend. By the time Monday comes around, you'll be better able to pass for normal." Pinch or no pinch, I was still in denial. "I'm going to untie you now, but, remember, you're Charlayne Rivers and nobody else. Look at those snapshots on the wall. They should tell you that you've already lived eighteen years as a girl. People are going to remember you in that life, even if you can't remember anything about it yourself. Before I leave, we'll pick out some clothes for school, something as boy-like as possible, to make the transition less traumatic." She tugged the gag out of my mouth, but I didn't say anything. Even if there was one chance in a million that this madness was real, being stuck as a girl forever was too much of a risk. Josette seemed to notice something that surprised her and brushed away the hair on my left temple. "Darrell!" she exclaimed. "You've gotten your pierced ears already! That's precious! Charla must be a real hottie. I can't wait to see what you own for clothes." "I am not a hottie!" I yelled. "So what's wrong with being a hottie? If you're going to be a girl, that's the best kind to be." She undid my wrist ties, saying, "Get dressed; we're going downstairs." I shook my head, not wanting to hear the sound of my own voice. I absolutely did not want to let anyone see me the way I was. "You can't stay in your room for a month. You'll feel a lot more confident once you realize that your family already knows about Charlayne. After that, we'll talk strategy." "I can't do it!" "Believe me, all they'll see is the same daughter and sister that they've been seeing every day for years. That's how it was with me. It's magic, after all." She paused. "You know, Darrell, I've been thinking that there may actually be a lot more of this supernatural stuff going on than anyone knows about." "More?" "Yeah. If magic makes people's memories change, how can we really know what the world used to be like, even yesterday?" "I don't want to think about it," I said. I snatched up a pair of jeans from where my -- Darrell's -- pants should have been. As I wrestled my legs into them, it seemed like they couldn't possibly belong to this new body, so tight were they. "Your hair's a mess," Josette remarked, now brandishing a rat-tailed comb. I backed away. "Ease up. If you think a comb's bad, wait until you get your first beauty parlor appointment." "Beauty parlor?" She put the comb into my hair. "Until you learn to do your own makeup, you'll need professional work or you'll feel ugly when we go into any of the good places. I've been wanted to have a dependable girlfriend to go place with. As Darrell you didn't have enough money to for any super night out. This way, we can be picked up by guys and get lots of freebies." "I don't think -- ow!" As she drew it through my snarled hair, I fought with myself not to get violent. I had been in love with this girl, and now all those hopes and dreams were dust. I felt horribly alone again, and I realized that there would be no cure for it. Sure, I now remembered my friendship with Loren, but that was nothing like having a girlfriend like Josette. What fun could it be being Josette's _girlfriend_? I just couldn't accept that everything that I thought we'd was lost forever. The scary thing was that all this _might_ actually be real. Christ! If it were actually reality, I'd have to live for a month as a girl! _A girl_. I've already let on how much I liked girls, but it was just _because_ I liked girls that I didn't want to be one myself. By now, Josette had terminated the comb-torture. Since I was barefoot, I looked around for footwear. There was a pair of female-type sandals at the side of the bed. I fitted them on. My treacherous friend was already holding the door open. "You've got to bite the bullet," she said. "The longer you sit up here scaring yourself with fantasies, the freakier you're going to get. Say as little as possible if someone talks to you. Tell anyone the wrong thing, and you'll have to get used to being female for the rest of your life." She went to my closet and took out a frilly red violet blouse. "Put this on; you don't know how to wear that pajama top right and it'll show too much cleavage to your family." She went to the door. She waited for me there and I told her not to turn around while I changed. When I was ready and she opened the door. I felt like a cat whose master was inviting it into a cold and rainy night. "Look, if this is a only dream, you can get a real a charge out it. The real fun will come at school. With your looks, people will treat you like something more than human." That didn't encourage me very much, but, after a moment's hesitation, I stepped through into the hall, and Josette slipped in behind me, to keep me on course. My legs felt little rubbery as I descended the stair, so I used the railing for support. On the wall below, I saw Mom's pictures of all three of us kids. Charlayne's picture was there, not Darrell's. The girl must have visited a beauty salon for that portrait, so much did she look like a starlet. But I was in no mood to stand in place and admire "myself." The TV was on in the family room. Keegan and Haley were watching _The Beauty and the Beast_. I decided to walk in, make it look like I was checking the listings on top of the set, and then leave. If the kids didn't ask "Who the hell are you?" it would tell me something, though I wasn't sure what my next move should be after that. I went in and pretended to look at the schedule. "Get out of the way, Charli!" Keegan yelled. My little brother knew me! He actually knew Charlayne. Her nickname was "Charli." It was like he already had some sort of alternate-world history of me in his head. But I didn't like being yelled at. "The more things change, the more you stay a brat," I replied crabbily. "Nyaaah!" he said, sticking out his tongue. "Shhh, you two. I'm trying to hear," hissed our sister Haley. "Hey, Charla," Josette suggested, "let's say hello to your mom." Mom and Dad were both in the kitchen, going over the week's receipts, discussing the ledger with glum faces, as they often did. Dad had said that healthcare, taxes, and regulations were killing his business. They gave Josette and me quick, sidelong glances, but registered no surprise. "Having fun, girls?" Mom asked. "Oh, yeah," I said. "Lot's of fun. How's things?" Mother looked back down at the papers. "Don't ever grow up, Charli. You won't like it one bit." "You should think of becoming a tax accountant," Dad added with a painful grin. "This government red tape is getting to be too much for your mom and me to figure out by ourselves." "Ah, yeah, I guess," I muttered. About then I realized how thirsty I was and went to the refrigerator. The glasses were right where they were supposed to be, even in this new reality. I filled one with orange juice. "Want some, OJ?" I asked. "I'd appreciate that." We carried our juices back up to my room. Josette had been right; the trip downstairs had bolstered my confidence. By now I had the presence of mind to take another good look at the place. It was packed with things I'd never seen before. The girl who lived there was into stuffed animal toys. The clothes I found hanging about were nothing likemy own ones. Some were sexy, some not so much. And the shoes! There were so many. I was pretty sure I still only had two feet, so what was the deal? They ranged from sensible to the truly demonic. Stiletto heels might catch the eye if a girl was pretty enough, but they looked like they could destroy my feet's entire bone structure. I held up one of the high-rise monstrosities. "Do these hurt as much as I think they do?" Josette shrugged. "Not so much; our feet are already used to them. Alternate reality, remember?" She started rooting through a lingerie drawer. "Hey, the really groovy stuff is in here." I stepped in next to her and looked inside; all my tee-shirts, bandanas, and skivvies were gone. What I saw now was a tangle of panties, bras, and filmy garments that looked like girls' pajamas at first, but looking closer, I saw that some of them turned out to be teddies and chemises. I unfolded what looked like the halter-top of a zebra-stripped bikini. The fabric had eye-appeal, but was of a stiff weave, not so soft to the touch. There were matching bottoms. 'Charla wore things like this?' I asked myself. Its scanty cut made beachwear that grandpa had thought looked so racy on Annette Funicello seem positively dowdy. "This is slutty stuff," I said. "You hypocrite!" laughed Josette. "Were you thinking 'slut' I when I wore my bikini to the beach a couple weeks ago?" "I loved the look on you." I scowled; it seemed perverse to be thinking that way about the girl whom I now knew to be Loren. "Anyway, I didn't notice that you seemed so uncomfortable wearing it." "How could you notice anything, considering where your eyes were glued? I tell you, if Charla wears a wardrobe like this, I can't wait to meet her!" "So, now you're turning lesbian on me?" I asked irritably. "Lesbian? Knowing what I am, can you blame me for liking girls?" "I still haven't figured out _exactly_ what you are! Where did you get that crazy potion?" Losing her smirk, Josette went to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm not sure how it happened. Almost three months ago, this middle-aged woman came up to me at the mall. She said something about me being special, that I had a blue aura, whatever that meant. She said she had something absolutely perfect for blue-aura boys. "She showed me that bottle. I asked her if she was pushing drugs. What she said was, 'No charge. Boys with blue auras have special dreams. This magic oil will make those dreams come true. But be sure to read the label carefully. If something happens that you don't like, it will be no one's fault but your own.' "I began to skim the label to find out what she was talking about, but when I looked up just a second later, she was nowhere in sight. It seemed impossible." "You should have thrown the stuff away. It could have been a deadly poison." Josette shrugged. "So sue me. I'm a risk-taker. Anyway, I wasn't thinking about sex changes. I thought she might have been talking about lucid dreaming. I was getting interested in that. There are herbs that are supposed to make vivid dreaming easier. Anyway, she didn't look like a random poisoner of teenaged boys." "What can anyone tell from the way some person looks?" "Well, you already know it wasn't poison. It's something incredible and it must be worth a fortune. The larger print said that one or two drops should be rubbed into the skin. The rest of the type was too small to make out under the overheads at the mall. I didn't trust the oil, but I was damned curious. Before I was going to let that stuff touch me, I experimented, like I've told you. "Once at home, I put the label under Mom's stereoscopic viewer and read it. Basically, it said that the treatment would change a boy's reality so that he will awaken into the life of his most desired female counterpart. The effect would begin at the dark of the moon, and then last until the next dark of the moon -- which is a fancy way to refer to the new moon. "What the label promised was too crazy to be taken seriously. But the test rat still seemed to be thriving a couple days after I'd dosed it and it hadn't changed sex, so I thought I'd try some on my own skin just before bedtime. I wasn't going to use any more than I'd given to the rat. "But like I said, there were taboos listed. Not to tell anyone is the one hardest one to follow. If I hadn't read the label, I certainly would have blabbed about it to somebody, to you or Mom, most likely. That would have been a bummer." "But why did the woman let the label warn you? Weird strangers want to do all the dirt they can to people, don't they? If it was just a practical joke using magic, why tip you off?" "I don't know. Maybe she has another angle. Or maybe she's like that old-time TV series, _The Millionaire._ Only, this old witch goes about looking for boys who want to be girls." "Loren! You're gay!" "No, stupid! It's more complex than that." "Who but a fruitcake would want to do something like this to himself?" She shrugged. "I've wondered about that. I was more than half convinced that it was a fake, because of the rat test. Maybe I wanted to try it out because I thought it wasn't going to be a physical change, but that it might make you dream about being a beautiful girl. Like, if you admired professional football players, wouldn't you like to sample life on an All-Star team, even if it is only in your head?" "Trying out a new job isn't like changing sex! Did you always think this way, even when you were acting like a regular guy?" "I am a reg..." Josette shrugged. "Shut up and listen. There are two more taboos you have to know about. The second is that you don't dare take another treatment before the first one has completely worn off. I had to be painfully careful to wait until I was myself again, even though I was already planning to spend another month as Josette." "Jeez! A double treatment could happen by accident! What if the stopper got loose and leaked into your pocket? From now on, keep that bottle away from me. What's the last taboo?" "I can't see either you or me breaking this one." "What?" "If you have sex, don't get pregnant." I let that sink in. "Is that why you were so against sleeping with me?" "Mainly. Also, it would have felt creepy. You were like a brother. Sex would have felt like incest." "So, except for incest, you don't think it's so bad having sex with guys?" "Think about it? How bad can sex be if so many girls are hot to trot? But I kept clear of that; it would have been too big a leap. Even though every new dose I take makes guys look better me, I don't want to give in. And it would be dangerous if I did; I haven't had the nerve to go out and get the pill yet." "I don't like any of this, Loren. There seems to be a lot of traps set for people using that glop. That strange woman could be a witch spreading this stuff around maliciously. Who knows whether anything on that label is true? Maybe it's meant to trick you into doing exactly the wrong things. And what did she mean about the blue aura?" Josette frowned prettily. "I don't know. There are lots of books about auras, and they even mention blue ones, but they don't say how they apply to sex." "Anyone who deals in big secrets has to be up to no good. Otherwise, they'd put in on the market and make a mint. I think you should pour that crap out, and make sure you don't splash a drop on yourself while you're doing it." "Easy for you to say," she shot back. "Since I've had this bottle I've been living in Never Never Land. I never had so much fun. All the best things in life is out there to enjoy. Even just looking into the mirror is a blast. Do you know why I was experimenting with lucid dreaming? It was so that I could do in my dreams what I'm doing now in the flesh." "How can you say something like that and still say you're not gay?" "I didn't want to be just a girl. I want to have incredible adventures. I'd like to be the new James Bond, too. Most people are more complex than they pretend, Darrell. I never told anyone that I wondered about how it would feel to be the hottest girl in school because almost everyone would jump to the wrong conclusion, just like you're doing now. I'm normal; I just got an open mind. I actually never owned any women's clothes before. I never hung out with pretend chicks and I certainly never was one." I threw up my hands. "How can we keep being friends when you're so weird?" "It's called honesty, bro. Can't you handle it? I'm still the same person. I've always had these interests. What's your beef? It's not like I ever wanted to go to bed with you. Hell, I'd rather sleep with you the way you are now than the way you were before." "Is that supposed to reassure me?" She stood up, folded her arms and turned away. "I wasn't lying about anything. I just didn't want to tell you more than you wanted to know. Don't you have plenty of secret interests that you don't tell even to members of your own family?" "Sure, but they're guy things, like being on a desert isle with ten beautiful girls, all wanting me to hunt for them. They don't have any choice but to give me some quid pro quo..." I paused with a sigh. "Forget that. We need to figure out why that woman is victimizing you, or maybe a lot of people like you." Then I added, "If she could read your mind, or tell something about you because of your aura, she must know you better than I do. If we're going to figure this out, you'd better own up about what's making you a target." She turned back to face me. "I _have_ been owning up and you haven't liked it." "When did you start thinking that you'd like to be a girl, for instance?" "I wouldn't put it that way, but when I was about six I saw a movie about the subject was _Switch_ on HBO. It seemed to me there that if Amanda had just loosened up a little and had been willing to go with the flow, she could have had a lot of fun." She paused. "It's no big deal!" "It's a big deal now. Look at you! And you've gotten me mixed up in all this nuttiness, too." "Darrell, I either had to get you mixed up in it or dump you. I thought this would hurt you the least." "You made the wrong choice. I might have jumped off a bridge if Josette dumped me, but people survive emergency care every day. This is just too much!" "I'm sorry, but you're looking at this all wrong. The more you know about how other people think and feel, the wiser you are. From ancient times, people have been telling stories about people changing sex." "Mother Goose didn't tell any!" "No, but _The Arabian Nights_ did. Hindu legends are full of it. Greek mythology has some, too. So did Frank Baum, in the _Wizard of Oz_ books." "I didn't read anything like that." "Check out _The Land of Oz._ The book, not the dumb film." "I still think it sounds gay." Her eyes flashed. "It's not gay! It's not even transgenderism. It was just an interesting fantasy. There's some of it in science fiction novels, especially the ones by Chalker. Didn't you ever wonder what the best type of girls were all about, down deep, on the inside?" I shook my head emphatically. "I've been checking out YouTube. Japan has lots of films about boys and girls switching bodies. All over the world they've got shows like Britain's _Boy Meets Girl_, the French _Vice Versa _.' In Belgium it was _LouisLouise_, and in Greece, _Lola._ In Russia --" "Who'd watch that crap" "Hundreds of millions of people. Some of these shows have run over two hundred episodes. That's as many as _Smallville_ raked up in ten years." "Christ, I feel like I've lost my best guy friend and best girl friend on the same day." Josette sighed. "You haven't lost anything yet. Just open your mind and let a little honesty blow through. See why I never told you who Josette was the first time you saw her? You're freaking out." "It's like I never really knew you at all." "Nobody knows anybody, Darrell. Husbands and wives don't understand each other. Parents and children don't either. How much is there about you that don't I know?" I sat down. "I want to go on hanging with you, Loren, but there can't be any more of this...weird talk. If you can't wean yourself off it, it's going to kill our friendship!" "You're still stuck on this gay obsession. 'There's more things on heaven and earth, Horatio....' What am I doing that's so awful?" "Where does the word _awful_ begin with you? You're using sorcery, man. You're creating alternate universes just for kicks. Tell me. Are you one of those people who want ... the operation, like that science fiction author got after he -- she -- wrote one novel about sex-change?" I was trying to think of the book's title. The movie's title had been different. It was called _Synapse_. She clutched a handful of her own blond hair. "No, you dolt! I like being a guy. If given the chance first, I'd have loved to be an uber- male, one with all the money and all the toys. But no witch ever came up to me with that kind of offer. Things worked out, though; as Josette I'm being treated like somebody who matters. That never happened to me before." "Guy fun and girl fun. Those are total opposites!" "No, they're not! Look at it this way, Darrell. Human beings come in two sexes. They're important to each other. It's perfectly natural to wonder about how the other half lives. The Hindus actually believe that no soul can reach Nirvana unless it lives many lives in both sexes." "What's exactly is this all about, Loren -- Josette? What in hell are you asking me to do for you?" "I thought I told you. What I want is what you did before. I want you to keep me company. There are lots of things I'd like to try as a girl, but I'm too chicken to do them without a buddy to back me up. "Also, there's something else I' wanted to talk about. I've getting more and more worried." "About what?" About what all this is all about?" "Is that one of those Big Questions? Like, why are we here?" "No, I mean, did I do the wrong thing? Was that old woman like a fairy godmother, or is this some kind of deal with the Devil? I'm having fun, but is that just the bait for some sort of a trap?" I sighed. "I'm sure I don't know. There aren't any altruists on the mean streets, Loren. She's after something. And does she only change boys into girls, or is she into even worse things? If some nutcase wanted to be a horse, like in _All of Me_, could she grant that wish, too?" "You're really setting my mind at ease!" "I can't sugarcoat your bottle of nitro." "I suppose, but it's too late to swear off the oil this month. I don't have any choice but to wait it out." "Me, too, and whose fault is that?" "Mine! Is that what you want to hear?" "I want you to grasp the fact that you double-crossed me to the nth degree. Now, what are we going to do about this ridiculous situation?" Her answer was incredibly anti-climactic. "I think the most important thing is to get you ready for school. Let's find that class list." **** We luckily found what we were looking for, in one of Charla's -- my -- school folders. But we also turned up something else while rummaging. A cheerleader's uniform. It belonged to the Daniel Kassler High School team. "Shit, Charla. You're a D.K. Cheerlion!" "That's screwy! I'm no athlete!" She started searching through the stacks of books and leaflets in the drawer of my end table and pulled out a large format hardcover. "Look at this, _The Cheerleader's Guide_." She paged through it, frowning. "The pictures aren't very hot." "It doesn't belong to me, then." "It belongs to the new you. I see a pattern here. The bottle says, '...his most desired female counterpart." Do you get it? It's about a guy's most perfect "better half." Me, I was always a huge fan of _Unhappily Ever After_. I couldn't get enough of Nikki Cox -- the brainy girl who always wore those incredibly short dresses. It still drives me crazy that they never put the series on disc. But you were always obsessing about cheerleaders. You burned every episode of _Hellcats_ on DVD. I bet that you'd marry a cheerleader if you could. I've read that when we go out looking for a mate, we're really trying to fill in a missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle of our own psyche." "Whatever. But I'm quitting that damned team!" "Why?" "I can't do those jumps and kicks. I can't dance. I can't balance myself on top of a pyramid. And me in a Cheerlions outfit?" "You said you loved that uniform." "Not to wear it, idiot!" Josette was smirking again. "Oh, yeah? Look at those pictures. Sexy leotards. Hot shorts!" I scowled; the pictures belonged to the girl who had owned this room, but she had never actually existed. "Charlayne Rivers must be an athletic type. That makes her totally different from the old you. She's probably had all she needed to be a topnotch cheerleader." "Why are you so eager to get me into that ridiculous miniskirt?" "Come off it, Darrell. Male beach trunks show off more skin than that uniform does. Look at the big picture. We've been slouching around the fringes of society all our lives. Now I'm a fox. I'm not exactly turned on by boys, but I _do_ like being treated special. And here you are, one of the elites yourself. Think of it. In high school, being a cheerleader is almost as good as being a Playboy Bunny." "So, you've got Playboy Bunny fantasies, too?" I didn't expect that kind of smile. "The real Josette did. You wouldn't believe some of the things I found in her closet at home." "I've seen your closet. What are you talking about?" "I hid the good stuff. I didn't know if Mom would approve, and I couldn't afford to give you any worse ideas that those you already had." "Loren, I want to hang with girls. My head is on straight, so I don't want to be a girl. Never! Ever!" "Take your smart pills, will you, guy? As a cheerleader you'll be rubbing tushies with the best of the best. You can't get regular sex as Charlayne, but you weren't getting any before, so what's the problem? In a month, you're going to know a lot about those chicks, both inside and out, dressed and undressed. Maybe you'll figure out what makes a couple of them tick and be able to finagle them into the sack." "By wearing an outfit like theirs and jumping around in front of crowds? No, way! I just want to keep out of sight until this month is over." "Don't throw away the best opportunity you've ever had. You can finally find out what it is that the girls you want themselves want, and next month you can pretend to be that sort of man. Then it will be Score City." I took another look at myself in the mirror. "I think I'm going too be too sick for school tomorrow. It'll probably last about a month." But my plan wasn't practical. Malingering would bring the school administration down on me for truancy, and it might even put me into a psychologist's office. If I didn't want any worse hassles to plague my miserable life, I had to go to school and make it appear like nothing was bothering me. **** Josette didn't normally pick me up mornings, but because I was facing my first day as a girl she thought that I needed some moral support. "Got your class schedule?" she asked. "Check! I'm not an moron." "Just be sure that you don't make the old boy's room-girl's room mistake, like on _Lalola_. I scowled. _Lalola_ was yet another of those foreign sex-change comedies that Loren was so well versed in. "Yeah, you warned me about that already." "And be sure to sit down on the seat. You can't aim and point anymore." "I had some practice last night," I replied acerbically. "What are you so grumpy about?" "You'd be grumpy, too, if you lost your own popular culture collections worth thousands of dollars!" "Wha --? Oh, yeah. My own stack of _Playboys_ turned into _Cosmopolitan Girl_ crap. Chicks don't have the same tastes as guys. But don't worry. They stuff'll come back after you revert. By the way, does Charlayne have any collections of her own?" "Sure, miniature dolls, porcelain unicorns, and boy-band CDs." "Gruesome. I never figured that down deep you were that kind of girl. I had you pegged for...something weirder. The Cheerlion image is so clean-cut." I realized that she was giving me the up and down. "Hey, keep your eyes on your driving." "You look okay," she said. "That loose hair should be easy enough to handle. Just run a comb through it each break. On the weekend, I'll show you some fancier styles." "I've seen you fussing with your hair a lot. Why bother?" "Tiffany Malloy didn't just wear short dresses; she was classy in every way. I've found out that nobody can be a babe of any kind unless she works at it." I couldn't help but smile. "Tiffany was a redhead. You look more like her arch enemy, Sable O'Brian." Josette tossed off a shrug. "Well, I wouldn't have kicked Kristanna Loken out of bed either. It was nice to see her land starring roles in _BloodRayne_ and _Painkiller Jane_." "Nikki Cox got _Nikki _ and _Las Vegas_." My companion wrinkled her nose. "I liked the showgirl acts in _Niki_, but they dropped those in the second season; I stopped watching. And there was absolutely nothing good about _Vegas_. All they had to do was make the showgirls and cocktail waitresses the center of the plot and they really would have had something." "You still like girls then?" "Yes, I like girls! Maybe not _you_ so much." I grunted. "Who and what are you anyway? It's like I fell in love with a Halloween costume, not the person inside it." Josette frowned. "I'm a full person. But you only saw what you wanted to see, even if it wasn't really there. You were bound to figure that out and be disappointed eventually. I think that's why so many marriages hit the rocks." "With so much going on in your life, how did you finally knuckle down and become a good student?" "I guess the magic gave me the whole Tiffany Malloy package. She was an A-lister, remember? My mind feels clearer, and my memory is better than it used to be. What I read or hear, I remember. And the secret of good grades is not really about knowing a lot of stuff. You just have latch on to what the book says or what the teachers are feeding you and then throw the same garbage back at them; that makes them think you're a genius." Just then, Josette turned into a free parking spot, three blocks from the school. We got out and walked swiftly to the entry. I was edgy, even though I was wearing sneakers, a conservative tee shirt, and jeans. Inside, we made for our lockers. The magic hadn't changed my locker assignment; go figure. My nerves were getting the better of me. I clung to the door, my head swimming. In mere minutes it was going to be my doom to attend class as a schoolgirl. Somehow fought back a faint and reached social studies without falling unconscious onto the terrazzo floor. I took my usual chair. "Miss Rivers, please let Miss Kassock into her desk, please." I looked up at Mrs. Krentz blankly. "Where should I be?" "Over there, in front of Hiu. Are you feeling all right, Charlayne?" "Sorry." I kept my head down and just listened to the babble concerning city planning for the next hour. Fortunately, that desk foul-up was the worst thing that happened before the ending bell. On the way to World History, a girl I barely knew, Beth Muzzleman, came up and said, "That's a new look for you, Charli. Did you lose what little fashion sense you were born with?" That snarky tone told me that this was no gal pal of mine. I wanted to toss back a double-barreled zinger of some kind, but I couldn't think of anything that would be wounding enough before she turned away down the hall. After World History came English. I had begun to notice that boys were giving me the eye; they'd probably been doing so all day. At first, I worried that I had made a poor choice in clothing, like Beth had implied, but I soon figured out that they liked what they were seeing. I'd always wanted to be admired, but under these circumstances it was embarrassing. I met Josette for lunch. The menu was the usual Education Department scandal, so I mostly dined on chocolate milk and peanut butter sandwiches. "Easy on those gut bombs," my bud warned. "The magic gave you a body worth dying for; don't wreck it by becoming the new Kirstie Alley." I winced. It was painful to remember how beautiful she had been as Saavik, in _Star Trek II_. "I know one of the cheerleaders in my Social Studies class," Josette was saying. "She says that practice is being held in the gym, for two hours, three times a week. The first session will be after school next Monday. That will give you some time to psyche yourself up for it." "I'm not going to wear that uniform!" "You won't need to bring your outfit to practice, just wear exercise clothes, like they did on _Hellcats_." That damned smirk of hers came back. "I know you have more than one set of those; I saw them on your wall. Sexy." "Quick looking at me that way!" I snarled. "I almost wish that you'd start liking guys." "So, you don't see yourself as a guy? And it's only your first day. Interesting." "You know what I mean. Now, tell me something useful. What were you saying about practice?" "You made the tryouts this Wednesday -- in the Twilight Zone, I mean. It's funny to think that Charla was getting her pom-poms certified at the same time that I was putting oil on your upper lip." "I'll get even with you for that, somehow," I warned. "And forget about practice! I'm not going to cheer-lead!" "Well, if I were you, I'd definitely go." "If you were me, you wouldn't be so dumb!" "Me dumb? You can say that with report cards like yours?" "Those were Darrell's report cards. Maybe I'm smarter than you are now!" "Cheerleaders are all jocks. They make it through school on beauty and pep. Then they become waitresses. Josette seems to have been too serious-minded to waste her time doing cartwheels." There was no civil reply I could make, so I finished my bland lunch in grudging silence. Homeroom came next, and then Charlayne's elective. As Darrell, I had been taking shop; I've always liked making things. But Charlayne was enrolled in Design I, a fancy name for making clothes. I couldn't think of a more boring pastime. The up-side was that Lyda Imray was in the same class. She was one of the D.K.H. cheerleaders, the one whom I'd most often fantasized about dating. To have a locker next to hers at the gym would be a wish come true. Before Josette, my best daydreams had centered on Lyda. Following Design, was Trig. After that ordeal, I found Josette waiting by our lockers. She had planned the weekend around teaching me how to get pass for a girl. I hadn't liked the idea, but after living in Charlayne's skin all day I knew that I could use some pointers. Only, I wasn't so sure that Josette knew much of anything useful. I had never supposed that Josette was dumb, but I was open to another opinion about Loren. I'd been eighteen for three weeks, an adult in our state, and so I didn't need to get Mother's permission to stay out late. But I also wanted to play it cool. Acting too headstrong would make it look like Josette and I were up to something. I thought it smart to phone Mom and tell her that that my gal pal and I were having were having dinner at the Melford's and that Josette would bring me home about 10:00 p.m. Once back at the house, I'd spring the news that I was going to be sleeping over at her place on Saturday night. Mrs. Melford, by the way, wasn't going to be there. She had an out of town medical conference and wasn't going to be back until after dark on Sunday night, but Mom didn't have to know that. **** After a snack, Josette was eager to get started with lessons. "First, we need to get you walking right. You're shuffling around like a boy on sore legs. You've got a different hip structure now, supporting a different weight distribution. Girls have developed their own way of walking. I'll show you, but first you'd better put on one of my minidresses." "The hell I will!" "I have to see your leg movements, and, anyway, this weekend will be a good chance to get used to female fashion. Would you like to slip into a short skirt for the first time and then go directly to school?" "What's wrong with what I wore today?" "Nothing, but we don't know what's going to be coming at you over the next month. Won't it be easier to practice sitting down in a mini here, instead of in front of strangers?" "What strangers?" "Think. You'll be changing clothes twice a week in gym class, and three times a week at cheer practice -- unless you cop out." "Aren't you ever embarrassed, dressing like a bimbo all the time?" "It was embarrassing at first," she admitted, "but I thought it would be neat to be another Tiffany Malloy, so I got over it." "I always thought it would be more fun to be Tiffany Malloy's boyfriend." "You practically were," she reminded me. "Love without sex isn't really love." "Genius! Tiffany never put out either, so you weren't missing anything." Jo changed the subject. "There's something you ought to know. We're not exactly as we were. It's like we're thinking with girl versions of our own minds." "Now you tell me!" "It's not so bad. A lot of thing that I didn't know I knew came easily after a little practice, as if I'm remembering habits that I'd forgotten." "Like sitting in a mini? Isn't that super?" I'd thought that my worst character flaw -- being unable to deny Josette anything -- had ended when she'd outed herself as Loren. But before I knew it, here I was, scowling at myself in the mirror wearing