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Tomboy By: Light Clark Synopsis: Sam likes to roll with the punches, both in fights and in life. Well, life gave him just such a punch when he manifested, but this one is a lot harder to just roll with than most. That's not going to stop him from trying to, though. Warning: This story is 'technically' set in the Whateley universe. It uses no characters or places from that universe; just borrows a few terms and general thematics. It is certainly not canon. Chapter 01 "Bruce! Ball!" I called out as I cut around my defender toward the basket. Bruce Mathison reacted immediately, jerking to a halt mid dribble. His defender tried to stop short as well, but he ended up running a step too far which was all the further the tall, spiky haired teen needed him to go. Using the gap left by his defender and mine, he bounced a pass to me low where only I could get it. Naturally, I scooped it right up just before the opposing team's third, a hulking behemoth of a fourteen year old, moved into my way. I feinted left, using a spin move to take me back to the right and around the lumbering oaf. From there, it was just a couple steps to an easy lay up. "And that's the game!" I yelled as the ball funneled through the hoop, raising my hands in victory. "Suck it, losers!" The defeated team rolled their collective eyes at my gloating, making annoyed groaning noises. "Game's not over!" Adam Lind, the opposing team's captain, growled. The guy, who was already built like a linebacker even though he was only a freshman, stormed over to me threateningly. "You clearly travelled!" Before I could retort, Charles Cruise, better known to me as my friend Chuck stepped between me and Adam. "Calm down, there's no reason to get angry," the smooth blonde tried to soothe the situation. "Of course not, since I didn't travel, and we won," I antagonized from behind my friend. "You didn't win shit!" Adam spat, talking over Chuck as he stepped forward menacingly. As a show of solidarity, Bruce came over to stand next to Chuck, further blocking Adam from me. "I can't believe you're actually whining about something like this in a street game," Bruce remarked in disdain. "We're not little kids anymore. Just accept the loss like a man." Adam continued to glare at the my friends and I, but backed off. No one had stepped up on his side of the argument, and while he might have tried to fight two verse one, three verse one was not odds that he was apparently willing to take. "I'll get you next time, fucker." "Not unless you actually learn how to play by then," I shot back, not willing to be intimidated in the slightest. With a final menacing glare, Adam stormed off, leaving the trio of friends on their own. Sighing, Chuck ran a hand over his hair to make sure it was all in it's proper place. "He's gonna beat the crap outta you one of these days. You know that right?" "I'd like to see him try," I retorted confidently. That got some incredulous looks from my friends, which was no surprise. At five-seven, I was a few inches shorter than Adam and quite a bit lankier. I was scrappy and liked to fight, but even I had my doubts that any of that would matter in a fight with Adam. The brute might just break me in half. Of course, I had more than just my physique to rely on if I needed it, but my friends didn't know that. "Well it seems we're out of competition here," Chuck noted, glancing around at Adam's team dispersing. "Wanna head to the pool and see if anyone cute's there?" "Haven't gotten slapped enough times this summer?" I teased. Chuck grinned. "I only get slapped by 'em after I date 'em." I laughed at that. "Well as much as I want to watch you hit on every pair of tits that walks by, I've gotta get home soon, so count me out." Nodding, Chuck turned to Bruce. "What about you, Brucey? Wanna be my wingman?" Bruce shrugged. "Whatever." "I'm taking that as yes," Chuck remarked happily. "See ya around, Sam." "See ya," I replied, giving my buddies a slight wave as they headed off. Looking around, I spotted my basketball off in the grass about a dozen feet away. Running over, I scooped it up and set about taking some practice shots until it was time to go home. *********************************************** *********************************************** "So, Doc got some good news for me today?" I asked as I tugged my shirt back on. "I guess that depends on what you consider good news in a situation like this," Dr. Keppler replied, making a few notes in the folder that he was holding. That got a chuckle from me. "Don't worry, doc. I know what's in store for me, and I'm okay with it. Just telling me how it's going." "In that case, everything seems to be progressing well," Dr. Keppler replied. "There's no sign of abnormal physiology emerging. Your last tests showed that your hormone levels are stabilizing at appropriate levels. Secondary and primary sexual characteristics are both progressing well, so it seems like you won't get caught in between." I nodded along with the information, pleased to hear I wasn't going to be especially freaky or anything. "Good to hear." "Then we get to psychological stuff," Dr. Keppler continued. "Your mother says you refuse to see a counselor, that you hide your changes when outside of the house, and that you haven't told any of your friends." I sighed heavily. "Yeah, well my mom's a little too interested in getting the ball rolling on this whole 'I'm gonna have a daughter' thing. It's not like I'm trying to hide from it or anything. I just don't see the rush. Other than a little extra padding," I reached up to cup the small pointy mounts that were hidden under my shirt for emphasis, "I still look like a guy. I act like a guy. My friends think I'm a guy. It just seems easier to wait 'til I'm a little further along before I start doing the whole girl thing." Dr. Keppler nodded in understanding. "That seems perfectly reasonable. You have been perusing the information I gave you on what to expect?" "Yep, thanks to you, I now know more about girl parts than I do about boy parts," I replied smartly. "Some of it seems a little annoying, like the whole periods thing, but it shouldn't be that big a deal." "In spite of what your mother claimed, you seem to be taking this whole thing pretty well," Dr. Keppler noted. I just shrugged. "You say I was born this way and there's nothing that can be done to stop it. No sense getting worked up over something I can't control, right?" Dr. Keppler laughed at that. "In my experience that's usually what makes people the maddest," he commented before getting more serious. "How's the power control coming?" "Pretty good, I guess," I answered. "Haven't had much luck in getting it any more precise, but I don't miss much anymore and no more accidental activations. My brother's still angry about my manifestation cracking a few of his ribs, though." "Well if my memory serves, you'd still have to send him to the emergency room a few more times for you two to be even," Dr. Keppler replied. That got a laugh from me. "I don't think he sees it that way, but luckily his new girlfriend kept him busy all summer. He's already back at school now." "Another one already? That boy does get around," Dr. Keppler remarked, before rising from his seat. "Whelp, unless you have any questions for me, I think we're good for today. I'll see you in another month." Nodding, I rose as well. "Looking forward to it." After that, the doctor and I went our separate ways. Leaving his office behind, I made my way out to the waiting room where my mom sat waiting for me to finish. She and I bore a pretty strong resemblance to each other, same light brown hair, same brown eyes. Unlike her lanky son, she was a little chubby, but not unattractive. "How'd it go?" my mom greeted, rising from her seat. "No complications right?" "Don't worry. He said everything's moving along as expected," I replied. "And did he say anything else?" my mom asked leadingly. The question prompted an eye roll from me, as I turned to lead the way out. "Yes, and I explained to him just like I did to you, that it just doesn't make sense to do more yet." "Sam," my mom huffed in exasperation as she followed me out. "Being a girl isn't as easy as you think. You need to start learning now, so you'll be ready when the time comes." "Learning what exactly, mom?" I questioned, annoyed at having to go through this again. "I went through all the information the doctor gave me. I know what to expect." "There's more to learn than just the biology," my mom argued. "There's clothes, and makeup, and hair, and -" Rolling my eyes again, I let out a loud annoyed sigh. "Mom, I know you've got this fantasy of what you want your daughter to be, but I just don't care about that stuff. I like my clothes, long hair seems like a pain, and no way am I putting paint on my face unless it's for camouflage." "I get that you don't care now, but you might once you're further along," my mom argued. "It's not like it'll hurt you to try it out and see." I leveled an incredulous look at her, but she didn't waver. However, eventually I did. "Fine, I guess maybe I could grow my hair out. Happy?" I'd worn my hair long when I was little, so I figured it would be the easiest concession to appease her. A giddy smile on her face, my mom nodded happily. "I can't wait to show you some of the styles I've picked out that I think'll look cute on you and of course, you'll need some lessons in styling, and your own hair supplies to work with. We'll have to talk about proper maintenance and care, too." I already regretted my decision. *********************************************** *********************************************** "You're going down can," I warned the cylinder of aluminum as I set it down on the concrete. "Fifteen paces, turn, and shoot," I told it, like it and I were about to engage in an older western-style duel. The can naturally said nothing in return, so I just spun sharply away from it and started walking along the little back alley behind the school. It being summer, the school was deserted, and the back area was shielded from sight both from the streets by the school building, and the nearby subdivision by a wall of trees, brush, and fencing. It made it the perfect place for me to practice without anyone seeing me. When I made it to the mental count of fifteen, I spun and thrust my hand upward. There was a loud ping from the can as it flew straight up into the air. I watched it shimmer in the sunlight as it's momentum waned and it began to fall. Tracking its decent, I waited for the can be pretty close to the ground before I thrust my hand out. Another loud ping shot through the air as the can was launched away from me. It made it quite a ways before finally hitting the ground and skittering to a stop. Raising my hand in front of me like a gun, I blew on my finger. "I told you, you were going down," I taunted the inanimate object. "Now get over here!" Another gesture from my hand, this time toward me, caused another loud ping followed by the can skittering along the ground toward me. Between the fifteen pace difference from the start and the fact it was bouncing along the ground not sailing through the air, the can didn't even get close to reaching me. I had to repeat the gesture another couple times before finally it skittered to a stop at my feet. By then, it was badly scuffed, dented and torn, like I'd been shooting at it with a real gun. "Pretty good," I mused, scooping the can up off the ground. "Now to test for accuracy." Turning, I oriented on a small bin I'd brought with me as well. Normally it served as my family's recycling bin, but today it served as both target holder and target itself. Carefully, I aimed the can in my hand at the bin a couple dozen feet away. Releasing the can, I thrust my hand out, hitting it with a burst of telekinetic energy. There was a loud ping as the can shot off, soaring toward its destination. There, it clanged off the stone wall of the school a couple feet to the left of the bin and bounced away. "That was not so good," I muttered in annoyance, walking over to pick up the can and toss it into the bin. Missing the bin was not an uncommon occurrence for me. I had pretty limited control over my telekinesis. I could only do short bursts at a couple of strength levels, and even then only in pretty discrete directions like toward, away, up, and down. It made aiming an object propelled by my telekinesis difficult. Of course, if I didn't know where stuff I hit was going, I couldn't risk using my power to move things. I wasn't a particularly strong telekinetic, but I was strong enough to hurt someone, which meant practicing to make sure that, if I hurt someone, it was on purpose. Sighing, I bent down and grab several new cans from the bin. "Guess I know what I'm practicing today." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 02 "So who should I go out with on friday, Becky or Rachel?" Chuck asked. Bruce shrugged. "Whichever. They're both mindless drones." Rolling his eyes, Chuck turned to me. "I should have known better than to ask the shrugmaster. What about you, Sam?" "How should I know, man? Any girl willing to go out with you isn't worth dating," I insulted smoothly. That got a laugh from Chuck. "I just sorta walked into that one, didn't I? But seriously, I don't know who to pick. They're both hot, right?" Begrudgingly, I nodded. "Yeah, two of the hotter girls in our school, which makes it all the stranger that they'd be interested in slime like you." "But which one do I pick then? Rachel has an amazing butt but no boobs, and you know how I like those," Chuck commented. "The whole school knows," I pointed out. "Now, Rachel has great boobs, but she's got no butt and never shuts up," Chuck continued his assessment. "And we all know how much you love to hear yourself talk," I zinged. The insult didn't even register on Chuck's face as he continued talking. "It's the classic conundrum. Do I go for the T or the A?" "You're so pathetic," Bruce muttered in disdain. "That's easy for you to say!" Chuck exclaimed. "You've got that Hailey chick fawning over you. God is she hot." Bruce shuddered. "She just won't leave me alone. I keep telling her I'm not interested." Chuck blinked a couple of times before shaking his head. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're gay. Not that that's a problem. It would just explain a lot." "I'm not gay. I just don't like it when girls are all clingy like that," Bruce responded. "I need my space." "And with those four words, he has half the girls in school desperately in heat for him," I half-joked. It was only half a joke because Bruce really was popular with the girls at our middle school. He had the bad boy thing down perfectly. He was handsome. He played guitar. He showed no interest in anything that wasn't his music. He even had a pierced ear, spiky black hair, and grungy clothes. Girls practically worshipped him. "I hate you so much sometimes," Chuck told Bruce to which Bruce just shrugged. "Still, what am I supposed to do for friday?" I shrugged. "I don't know. I think Becky's a little cuter personally, but since it's you, let me put on my perverted douchebag hat for a second." I paused to pantomime putting a hat on my head, even pretending to spin the brim around like a douchebag would for a baseball cap. "I say you go with Rachel, get her to let you play with her tits then dump her and go out with Becky because she's cuter and isn't an airheaded bimbo." I paused to nod. "Yeah, that's sounds douchey enough for you." Chuck rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I know you were trying to be a sarcastic ass right there, but that's actually a pretty good plan. I get to try out the tits. If they're amazing, I just stick with them, and if I'm good after one grope, I can move on to the next girl." "Congratulations, you've reached a new level of douchebag," I announced. "We should probably get you crown, because you have to be the king of that by now." "I'm gonna go tell Rachel the good news," Chuck decided, ignoring my barbs. Taking out his phone, he rose and left the table, leaving me with Bruce. "So, Bruce. How's the new song coming? Good?" I asked, shifting topics to something that Bruce and I actually had interest in. Bruce nodded. "I think so. It's a mix of heavy metal and power ballad with just a touch of sorrow. I just need one more verse and an outro to finish it off. You're still going to do the piano part for me right?" "Yeah, if you really want one. Not sure how good it's going to sound in a heavy metal power ballad," I replied, knowing that Bruce involved me mostly because I was the only other musician that he knew. "I was thinking we'd do a kinda synth organ more than actual piano," Bruce explained. I gave it a little thought before nodding. "I could see that working. Just email it to me when it's ready for me to work on it." "I will," Bruce assured me. "It'll be nice to get the opinion of someone else with some actual musical talent." I couldn't help but laugh at the idea that I had musical talent. While I wasn't bad, the only reason I played piano was that my mom had insisted that I take lessons when I was little. It certainly wasn't a passion of mine like guitar was for Bruce. "Not sure about that last part, but I can give you an opinion at least." "You've got more talent than just about anyone else in that horrid drone machine we call school," Bruce replied. I tilted my head from side to side. "Well that might be true, but that school's full of idiots." While he didn't laugh, Bruce managed one of his rare smiles. "Yeah, and the biggest one of them is about to come back and gloat about whose tits he's gonna get to squeeze." I shrugged. "Everyone should get to gloat about their triumphs, no matter how base and perverted they are." *********************************************** *********************************************** Frowning, I reached up to cup my chest. My hands confirmed what what my reflection in the mirror was already telling me. While still fairly small, the soft mounds were starting to fill my palms pretty well. My breasts were only the most obvious change of my slow march toward becoming a girl. My body, always kind of lanky, was looking a little less straight and rigid. Slimmer shoulders, a slight rounding to my hips, and a general softness had come into being. It was messing with my face too, making it look a little less angular. "Maybe I should just start school as a girl," I mused, thinking that I probably looked more like a boyish girl than girlish boy at that point. Such a decision would certainly make my mom happy. My increasing girlishness had come with an increase in nagging from my mom that I really should get some new clothes. If she had her way, though, I'd be decked out in frills and skirts, which was something that I didn't want. Boy or girl, I planned to keep being me, and I enjoyed physical stuff too much to saddle myself with anything more troublesome than shorts and tennis shoes. Besides, it wasn't like my current clothes didn't fit. They were a little loose around my shoulders and a touch tight in the hips, but not bad enough to warrant buying a whole new wardrobe. "Gonna need bras as a girl, though," I reminded myself. Up until now, I'd just been wrapping my chest. It flattened out the modest bumps quite well, keeping them from being visible through my shirt and from bouncing around any - not that they bounced much anyway. That wasn't what girls did, though. They wore bras, and I knew my mom would make sure I wore them too. "I'll need to try to think of some way to get mom to let me shop for them on my own, before I make any decisions," I told myself, reaching for my wrappings. There was no way I was going to let my mom buy my bras, and I had almost a week still before school started. That would be plenty of time to come up with something to at least try. Once I'd wrapped my chest, I tugged on some clothes and left my room. Trying to be sneaky, I scurried down the steps. I didn't want my mom to hear me leaving or she'd stop me to talk. "Hey there, sweetie," my mom's voice cut into my back like a knife. Not even trying to hide it, I let my shoulders slump as I let out a long heavy sigh. "Hi, mom," I returned the greeting as I turned around. "I was talking to your principal today about your status for next year. She wanted to know if you were planning to start as a girl or switch over some time during the term," my mom informed me. "Have you thought about that yet?" "Yeah, but I haven't decided," I answered noncommittally. "You know, you really do look pretty girly now, and it'll be a lot easier on you and the staff if you just started that way," my mom pointed out. My mother's nudging got another sigh from me. "I know, but I still haven't decided." "Well as long as you're thinking about," my mom conceded. "Try not to think too long, though. We'll need at least a couple of days to get things together if you decide to start as a girl." Suppressing a shudder at the idea of two days of shopping, I nodded. "Got it. I'll make sure to let you know soon." "So where are you going?" my mom asked, Asking where I was going when I left the house was a new, and annoying, habit that she'd picked up - like she didn't trust me to take care of myself anymore. "Just over to Chuck's. We're going to a movie later," I answered. My mom nodded. "Alright. Just make sure you're home by ten." "I will be," I assured her before turning and heading out the door. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Wow, look at her," Chuck directed, elbowing me to get my attention. I look up to see a slutty looking college girl with plenty of curves and not a lot of clothes covering them walk into the mall. "Nice. Too bad she's too old for you." "Yeah well we're not gonna be this young forever. I'm sure there'll be plenty of girls like that once I'm that age," Chuck replied optimistically. "And I'm sure they'll be just as dumb and slutty for you too, pal," I remarked without missing a beat, even giving Chuck a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "God, I hope so," Chuck sighed wistfully. That made it Bruce's turn to sigh, albeit his was more heavy than wistful. "Don't encourage him, Sam." "What? It's not like we've got anything better to do while we wait for Mrs. Cruise to get here," I pointed out. "Might as well take in the view." "Atta boy. I'm finally starting to rub off on ya," Chuck cheered proudly as he threw an arm around my shoulder. "Pretty soon, I'll have you dating the ugly friends of the girls I go out with." Shuddering, I squirmed out from under Chuck's arm. "Yeah, I don't want your rejects. Hell, I don't want most of the ones you actually pick." "You two are never going to find a date. You're both too damn picky," Chuck grumbled. "What you need to realize is that they're all either crazy, stupid, or both, so you might as well find one that looks good." "Yeah cause you're such an expert," I muttered sarcastically. "Hey, I've had eight girlfriends. What have you had? One? Bruce hasn't even had any," Chuck reminded me. "Clearly I'm the expert of the three of us." I rolled my eyes. "The expert at getting dumped maybe." "Whatever. Spend your life alone," Chuck retorted defensively. For a few moments there was silence, before I saw a cute blonde walk out of the mall with her mom. "Oh what about her. She's cute and actually around our age." Chuck looked up to follow my gaze. "Yeah, she is. You should go ask her out." "Are you nuts? Her mom's right there, plus they're leaving," I argued. "Coward," Chuck teased. "Whatever, man. You wouldn't ask her out in this situation either," I challenged. Chuck shrugged. "Of course not. I was just hoping you'd make a fool of yourself." "Yeah well you're gonna have to try something a little more clever than calling me a coward to get me to do that," I replied smugly. "What would work then? A double dog dare?" Bruce commented derisively. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "A double dog dare, you say? That would be hard to turn away from." "Well naturally. At that point it's a matter of honor," Chuck furthered, playing along. Bruce rolled his eyes at both of us. "You're both such children." Bruce's response prompted a laugh from Chuck and me. I was just starting to reel that laughter in to make a joke when a woman's scream cut through the air. Immediately, I looked up, trying to see what was up, but all I could see were cars tinted red and purple in the light of the nearly set sun. "What the hell was that?" Chuck gasped, glancing around as well. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out," I replied, hopping from my seat and running off toward the noise. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 03 Sprinting through the sea of parked cars, I kept an eye out for whoever might have been the source of the scream. There were several people standing around with confused and worried looks on their faces as I ran by, but no one that appeared distressed enough to be the one responsible. Continuing onward, I tried to make sure I was angling in the direction that I'd thought the sound had come from, searching for any signs. "Let go of her!" a woman yelled. The voice was lower, angier, and not as frightened as the one that had screamed, but it was coming from the same direction. It was also quite close, seeming just a lane or two over. Cutting across a line of cars, I burst out from behind a full-size truck. Waiting for me on the other side was the cute blonde girl that Chuck and I had been checking out before and her mother. The girl was struggling to break free of the grip of an older boy, somewhere in his late teens or early twenties. Meanwhile, the mother was being held by two more boys, all while a fourth boy was trashing the items that they'd purchased by throwing them on the ground and smashing them under his heel. "The lady told you to let her go," I cut in, trying to sound badass except my voice cracked midway through the line. Four verse one wasn't a fight even I would look forward to, but I wasn't going to stand by and do nothing. The boy trashing the two girl's things looked up from his work and laughed. "Get lost, kid. The gene scum isn't worth your trouble. Ain't that right, purple eyes?" "Leave us alone!" the blonde teen, clearly the one being referred to as purple eyes, begged the man that was holding her. My own eyes narrowed at the mutant slur. If there was any chance of me backing down before, it was gone now. "I think you should listen to her," I warned, managing to sound a lot more menacing this time. "Beat it, punk, before I wipe the floor with you!" the teen growled, tossing down the two girls' things and stepping toward me threateningly. Given that the guy was a few inches taller than me and probably sixty pounds heavier, I was a little intimidated, but my mind was already made up. I thrust my hand outward, unleashing a telekinetic burst. The force thrust into the guy's chest hard enough to slam him back against the car behind him with a loud thud. He's slumped against the car in a daze, shaking his head to clear his vision. "Shit it's another one!" the guy holding the blonde girl warned. The two guy's holding the mother reacted immediately. One slapped the older woman hard, driving her to the ground, while the other turned to orient on me. Seeing that I wasn't going to get out of this just by smacking down the leader, I raised my fists and got ready to use my telekinesis again. The guy that was focused on me took that as his sign to rush forward, coming at me in a wild charge. I took a step to the side to line things up and thrust a hand out. Another burst of force slammed into the guy, shoving him back. Unlike with the first guy, there was no car behind this guy to stop him, but his other friend was. The two crashed into each other with a thump and a yelp before tumbling to the ground in a tangled up mess. With three of the four enemies down, I oriented on the guy holding the girl. This proved to be quite the problem for me as I doubted that I could hit him without hitting her as well. That meant I couldn't use my powers to take him down from afar, and he was a lot bigger than me. At that point, though, I didn't even care about that and just started stalking forward. "Let her go," I growled, my anger clear in my voice. "Not a chance, freak," the man spat, jerking on the girl to get her to gasp in pain. Sick of these idiots bigotry, I charged forward, yelling out in anger. Clearly scared by what I'd done to his buddies, the guy shoved the girl into my charge before turning to run away. Skidding to a stop, I barely managed to not crash headlong into the girl. Instead, I caught her, though not exactly gently, in my arms. After a brief, nervous embrace, I stepped back, blushing. "Sorry! You alright?" "I think so," the girl mumbled in response, looking down shyly. "I can't believe you just charged in here like that, though. Weren't you scared?" Suddenly feeling very flustered and nervous, I managed an awkward chuckle while rubbing at my hair. "It was nothing," I told her, trying to sound tough even as adrenaline made my hands shake a little. The girl smiled at that before looking up at me. The moment she did, though, her smile vanished and there was a brief moment where I was worried that I'd done something to upset her. "Look out!" she yelled, too late for me to react. A sharp stab of pain cut into my lower back and up into my abdomen. There was a moment where I was too stunned by the sudden pain to even cry out. All I could manage was a stunned gasp and wide-eyed expression. Then, I felt a dull ache as something get yanked out from inside me. Vaguely, a terrified shriek registered in my thoughts as I crumpled first to my knees and then face planted onto the concrete. Somehow, hitting the hard surface didn't hurt. All I felt was a pervasive cold as faint buzzing noises surrounded me. Then, there was only darkness. *********************************************** *********************************************** Somewhere in the darkness, words started to filter into my consciousness. "Thank you for letting me stay," a vaguely familiar female voice said. Stay where, I wondered. "It's the least I could do after you saved Sam's life," another woman spoke, this one quite familiar. Even so, it took a moment for my brain to register who it belonged to. It was my mom's voice. "Well he saved me first," the first voice replied. "I just wish I hadn't caused him so much trouble ..." Suddenly, there was light as my eyes cracked open - blinding painful light. Whimpering in pain, I shut my eyes again, and snuggled my head down against my neck to try to hide from the glare and go back to sleep. My body was already waking up, though, complaining about several uncomfortable aches and pains. My lower back was especially noisome, sending dull throbbing aches shooting up my spine every few seconds. "Sam? Honey?" my mom called out. I could hear her get up and come over to me, which meant I needed to finish waking up to talk to her. Prepared for pain, I cracked my eyes open just a bit, squinting against the harsh light. It took a few seconds for them to finally adjust enough for me to see my mom standing there looking down at me. Her expression was filled with relief when she saw my eyes. "Hey, mom," I greeted my voice a raspy and oddly pitched. "Guess I didn't make it home by ten. Sorry." "Don't worry about that, honey. I'm just glad you're okay," my mom replied, reaching out to caressing my hair lovingly. "I'm glad you're okay, too," the other voice added before its owner stepped closer as well. The voice apparently belonged to the cute, blonde girl that I'd leapt to the rescue of. She had a nervous, uncertain look on her face and kept her purple eyes averted from mine as she spoke. "I'm so sorry you got hurt helping me." "What were you thinking trying to fight four grown men, anyway?" my mom chided. I managed a weak little shrug, not really sure how I'd thought that was a good idea at the time either. "Just had to help, I guess. What happened anyway? The end of the fight is sorta hazy for me." "You were stabbed, Sam," my mom answered. "The doctors say you would've died if Amy hadn't been there to heal you." "Amy?" I repeated the name as a question. "That would be me," the blonde said, raising her hand. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to save you. I didn't know my healing would turn you into a girl." "What?!" I gasped in confusion. Amy seemed to get even more self-conscious, refusing to look at me at all. My mom, however, stayed focused on me. "Her healing seems to have accelerated your changes by quite a bit, Sam." Hearing that news, I tilted my head up so that I could look down at myself. There wasn't all that much that I could see, mostly because my eyes immediately glued themselves to the very sizable mounds on my chest. They were definitely not the little bumps that I'd seen in the mirror that morning. "Oh." "I'm so sorry!" Amy apologized, clearly thinking I would be upset. Forcing myself to not stare at my boobs, I looked back up at Amy and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. It's not a big deal. It was going to happen to me eventually, anyway." "But-" Amy tried to protest. "It's fine," I insisted. "Honestly, you probably did me a favor. Now I'm not stuck being in between for so long." While that was true, I was a little annoyed that I was going to miss out on my last few days as a guy. No sense in making her feel bad about it, though. It wasn't like her guilt would change me back or anything. "Thanks for saving me," I added gratefully. "Thanks for stopping those men," Amy replied shyly. There was a moment of awkward silence before she continued. "I should ... uhm ... probably get going ... so you can, like, rest and stuff." As she spoke, she backed toward the door, then with a quick wave, she ducked out of the room. Smiling, I returned the wave just before Amy ducked out of view. Even after she was gone, I just kept staring that way. I couldn't believe a cute girl like that had actually worried about me enough to wait around for me to wake up. "Sweet girl," my mom commented, snapping me from my stupor. "She's going to the same school as you this fall, you know." "Really?" I asked, the eagerness in my voice quite obvious even through the raspiness. My mom nodded as she shifted around to sit on the bed next to me. "Yeah. We talked a little bit while we waited for you to wake up. She was really impressed by the way you jumped in to save her from those guys." That knowledge just made my smile all the bigger. If we were going to the same school, I would definitely get to see her again. Plus, I'd already made a great first impression. That was probably worth almost dying for. "Anyway, thanks to Amy's help, Dr. Keppler says you're pretty much healed," my mom changed the subject. "It might hurt for a few days, though." "So, I can tell," I grumbled, trying to no avail to twist my back into some position that would alleviate the constant aching. Moving around caused my boobs to wobble and shift on my chest in a way that they'd never done before. Previously, they'd been very small and firm, not moving much at all, but that clearly was no longer the case. Glancing back down at them, I was struck again by how much larger they were - much bigger than my mom's modest bust. It also made me realize that other things had probably changed as well, such as a distinct lack of the usual presence between my legs. "Guess, I'm starting school as a girl, huh." "I think that would be for the best," my mom replied wryly. "You don't look like a boy at all anymore, and from what Dr. Keppler could tell, your changes are either complete or nearly so." I couldn't quite keep the annoyance from my face at the news. The girl thing was expected, but it was early. The bigger problem, though, was that it had robbed me of the time to think of a plan to get out of shopping with my mom, so I knew what was about to happen. "We'll need go shopping to get you some new clothes," my mom announced before adding. "Once you get out of here and have recuperated some of course." All I could do was sigh at the dreaded news. I hated shopping, especially for clothes. I knew this time would be even worse than usual as my mom undoubtedly had plans to subject me to being dressed up in all sorts of things. There was nothing I could do about it, though. Knowing I was stuck, I merely nodded in agreement. "Okay." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 04 "Oh this is cute," my mom remarked as she grabbed a leather skirt off the rack and held it up in front of my hips. Even without putting it on, I could see that it would be quite short and tight, which would be both revealing and inconvenient. "You certainly have the legs for it." All I could do was let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously, mom? A mini-skirt? Aren't you supposed to be trying to keep me from wearing stuff like that not picking it out for me?" "Nonsense. That's just the fashion these days," my mom countered, as she tossed the skirt over her arm for me to try on later. "Besides, it would be such a waste for someone as pretty as you to hide in baggy t- shirts and shorts." Much to my annoyance and my mother's joy, I was in fact pretty - very pretty even. I was slim, but definitely not scrawny with great legs, a well-rounded butt, and a small waist. Add to that my pretty face and excessively large tits, and I was definitely a babe - even my voice sounded pretty hot. Not even my short, boyish hair could manage to diminish my looks much, and my mom was determined to not let anything else do so either. Given that I was the same height and not all that much thinner thanks to my new curves, most of my old clothes actually still fit pretty well. My shirts had plenty of room to accommodate my chest, and while my shorts hung a little lower, they managed to squeeze over my hips. Of course, I'd tried to argue that I didn't actually need new clothes at all, since I could just wear my old stuff, which I liked because it was comfortable and easy to move around in. My mom would have none of it, though, which was why I was now in some teen clothing store rolling my eyes at everything my mom picked out. "Can't you at least pick stuff I could actually run in without flashing my underwear to everyone around me?" I pleaded, trying to reel my mom's enthusiasm in at least a bit. Surprisingly, my mom actually took a moment to give that some thought. "There's a rack of shorts over there," she said, pointing toward a little tower of shelves with clothes laying on them. "You can pick out a couple pairs of those." "Thank you," I breathed in relief as I left my mother's side. My relief proved short lived as I picked up one of the pairs of denim shorts from the shelves. It looked even smaller than the skirt with only about a half inch of leg to it. It seemed every bit as tight as the skirt too. Still, it would at least cover my underwear, and maybe it wouldn't be too restrictive to move in. Figuring that the shorts pretty much had to be better than that skirt that my mom had just picked up or that dress that she was currently eyeing, I grabbed a couple pairs in the size my mom had told me I now wore. "Here ya go," I said as I came back and set the shorts onto the armful of clothes. My mom just nodded as she continued rummaging moving on to a rack of tops while looking for things for me to wear. Sighing, I just leaned back to wait, knowing that the trip was far from over. As I did, I glanced around the place, trying to find anything interesting to pass the time on. I noticed a couple of girls at a rack not that far away, looking in my direction. They were pretty cute and around my age, which certainly made them more interesting to look at than clothes. I tried not to be too obvious about what I was looking at, just occasionally glancing the girls' way as I pretended to look around. As I did, I noticed that the girls would occasionally glance my way before one of them would say something and they'd both burst into giggles. That brought a frown to my face. It seemed like they were laughing at me for some reason. "I'll be right back, mom," I told my mother, getting a mumble of consent from her. Trying to appear to just be looking at some clothes, I slipped behind a rack, using it to get the girls to lose sight of me. Once I had, I ducked low, and slipped around the other side, using racks to keep myself hidden as I crept closer to the girls. "Can you believe that girl is still shopping with her mom?" I overheard one of the girls say. "I know! What a loser!" the second girl concurred. "And did you see her hair?" the first girl continued, both of them bursting into a fit of tittering giggles. "Her mom must have picked that style out for her too," the second girl added. "That's the only way she could end up with something so hideous." Furious at the insults, I popped out from my cover and barged over. "What the hell's your problem?" The two girls were momentarily surprised by my appearance, but they recovered from it quickly. "You're the one with the problem. What did you do, dress in your brother's clothes by mistake?" "Maybe she's one of those confused girls that thinks she's actually a boy. That could explain the clothes, too," the second girl reasoned in a mocking tone. Clenching my fists at my side, I struggled to keep it together as anger flared. If they were guys, I would've taunted back or just thrown a punch, but they weren't guys. They were girls, which meant I couldn't hit them, and I didn't really know how to insult them either. Something about clothes or hair, might work, but as far as I could tell they were perfectly normal in that regard. I needed something else, but nothing came to mind. It was so frustrating. "And the hair too," the first girl added. "She looks like she's about to cry, though, so she must think she's a little boy, one that still needs his mommy," the second girl furthered, before they both burst into laughter again. Unable to think of anything, I just spun and stormed away. The mocking sounds of the girls' laughter followed me as I went, taunting me for my patheticness. My vision started to blur as I fled back to where my mom was waiting. "Is something wrong?" my mom asked as I got back. Keeping my eyes on the ground, I shook my head fiercely. "No," I muttered, the tone of my voice betraying my emotional state. My mom glanced between me and the pair of giggling girls, getting a sympathetic expression on her face. "You wanna talk about it?" she asked, getting me to shake my head again. "Well, I think we've got more than enough stuff for you to try on." Talk of clothes got me to glance down at what I was wearing - what the girls had been teasing me for wearing. "Fine," I mumbled, starting toward the dressing room. *********************************************** *********************************************** For the most part, other than the run in with those girls at the clothing store, I hadn't felt particularly embarrassed or nervous being out in public as a girl. After all, girls didn't feel embarrassed to be girls, so I figured that I had no reason to be embarrassed by it either. There had been more attention from people than I'd expected, but it had also been easy enough to ignore that. However, the moment I stepped into the lingerie store with my mom, my entire face was burning with embarrassment. All around me was a forbidden place full of things of lace and silk that I'd only ever really seen in dirty pictures. It made me feel like I was about to be caught doing something I shouldn't be just by being there. The fact that there was no immediate alarm nor any looks of disdain from the women inside, though, helped to ease my anxiety. Everyone seemed to think it was perfectly natural for me to be here, and why shouldn't they? I was a girl. I needed girl underwear just like every other girl in there. It was perfectly alright for me to be here. While I calmed myself down, my mom led the way toward a counter with a woman behind it. "You have a fitting service here, right?" "Yes, ma'am," the attendant confirmed cheerily. "Is it for you or your daughter?" "My daughter. You know how they are this age, growing like a weed," my mom remarked. The attendant nodded knowingly. "Yeah, thank God my own little girl is still a few years off from that," she replied before turning to look at my chest appraisingly. "Let's go back to the dressing rooms and get you measured." Stepping out from behind her counter, the woman led the way to the back of the store where the dressing rooms were. There, she took me inside one of them while my mother waited outside. "Take off your top and stand there back straight with your arms at your side," she instructed as she pulled out a measuring tape. Thinking it a simple enough request, I quickly tugged my t-shirt off, and tossed it on the little bench in the room. Without the camouflaging nature of the baggy shirt, it was a lot more apparent just how large my breasts actually were. They were quite a bit bigger than Rachel's, the girl whose cleavage Chuck had been drooling over, and she had some of the largest, if not the largest, tits in our old school. They looked great too, big, round, and perky. It was too bad they were attached to me. "This good?" I asked as I straightened my back, thrusting my chest out a bit. The attendant seemed a little taken aback by their size, but she didn't comment on it at all. She just confirmed with a quick, "Yep," before stepping forward so that she could thread her measuring tape under my arms and around my torso. As the cold tape settled on my skin, I shuddered a bit, but otherwise remained as still as I could.. The attendant went about her work quickly, first measuring around underneath my boobs before shifting the tape up to measure around them at their fullest. The cold tape on my nipples caused another shudder as the little nubs stiffened in response. "Well, I've got some bad news," the woman announced as she double checked the numbers. Confused, I looked down at my chest, wondering if something was wrong with my breasts. They seemed normal enough, if a bit big, but a lot of girls I'd seen on the internet were not just as large but quite a bit larger. They didn't appear to be deformed or anything either. "Is something wrong with them?" The woman laughed at my assumption. "Oh sorry, no. Nothing like that. It's just that, while we do carry items for girls that are ... well- endowed, you're so skinny that I think we only have maybe a handful of styles in your size." "Oh ... is that all? That's perfectly fine," I replied, actually a little relieved that I wasn't going to be subjected to trying on all that many bras. Lingerie shopping might go a lot quicker than I'd thought it would. The attendant looked surprised by my upbeat response. "Well then I'll go grab what we have for you. Okay?" "Sure," I replied. After that, the attendant departed, leaving me alone in the dressing room for a bit. With nothing to do, I plopped down on the bench and looked at my reflection in the mirror. It was pretty weird to see a busty topless girl as my reflection. Kind of arousing too, if I didn't think about the fact that it was me. Reaching up, I ruffled my light brown hair a little. Still quite short and cut and styled in a boy's fashion, it really didn't suit my girlier face at all, making me wish I'd let my mom talk me into growing it out sooner. If I had, it might be long enough by now to at least match the rest of me. As it was, it was only just starting to look a little shaggy, so it would be quite a while before it grew enough to be considered long. There was a soft knock before the attendant stepped into the changing room with several bras over her arm. "This is what I could find in sizes that might work for you." There were more bras than I'd expected, but it still looked like a pretty small pile, which I was happy about. Reaching out, I took the first ba, a black one, and slipped my arms through the straps. That was where things got tricky. I had messed around with one of my mom's bras one afternoon out of curiosity, but I found out quickly that it was a lot harder to get one on with my current melons wiggling around. Finally, I did managed to get the bra hooked, turning to the mirror to inspect it. It didn't look very good at all, though. The straps were half slid off my shoulders, and the band and cups were both pinching my boobs. It seemed that this one didn't fit. Meanwhile, The attendant was giving me a weird look, making me wonder what I was doing wrong. "Do you ... want some help?" "Uhm ... yeah, that would be nice," I replied uncertainly, blushing slightly as I realized I must be making a fool of myself somehow. The attendant immediately set to work on the bra, tugging and adjusting things. She tightened up the straps and twisted the band a bit. The part that really shocked me, enough to elicit a surprised gasp, was when she reached into the cups, grabbed my boobs, and pulled them up and into the cup. I couldn't argue with the results, though. Looking in the mirror, I saw myself standing there, the black cups of the bra comfortably full of inviting flesh without any signs of the pinching from before. If anything, it was weirder and more erotic to see myself like that than seeing myself topless. I straightened my back and rolled my shoulders back to really emphasize my boobs as I turned from side to side to look at them. "This one seems good." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 05 "Damn this thing is tight," I complained as I stood in front of my mirror tugging on my sports bra. No matter how I tugged or twisted, it always snapped back, still just as constricting as before. I supposed it had to be, though, to corral the obnoxious bouncing of my chest that otherwise resulted from even light physical activity. Even as tight as it was, though, it couldn't fully stop the bounce, just kept it in a controlled range. Finally giving up in frustration, I released the bra and pulled my shirt on - one of my old shirts. The last thing I needed was even more stuff constricting my chest and making it harder to breathe. It was paired with one of my old pairs of shorts that actually had a drawstring so that I could get them to fit around my waist and a pair of new sneakers that I'd managed to convince my mom that I needed. An ideal outfit for a little basketball. Leaving my room, I hurried down stairs and toward the garage. Unfortunately, my mom was waiting along my path as if waiting in ambush for me. "Where are you off too?" "I'm just gonna go down to the court to take a few shots," I told her. My mom's expression immediately turned to concern. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. You just got out of the hospital a few days ago." "And Dr. Keppler said then that thanks to Amy I'm perfectly fine," I argued. "It's just a little basketball." "Alright, but be careful," my mom conceded. "Thanks!" I told her, immediately making for the door to the garage before she could change her mind. "See ya later." Having escaped from my mom's nagging, I snagged my ball from the garage and headed outside. From there it was just a short walk to the main road and then a little ways down that to the little neighborhood park where the playground and basketball court were. It was basically the only saving grace of living in the middle of the big sprawling suburb. As I neared the courts, I saw that several of the guys seemed to have had the same idea that I'd had. It was the last day left before school trapped us at desks to listen to boring lectures, so everyone was out trying to enjoy their freedom. Currently it looked like there was a two verse two game going, with a few people watching in interest. It took a few more steps for me to distinguish who the players were. Adam and his mountainous lug of a friend were one team while the other team was a pair of brothers, Luke and Caleb if I remembered their names right, that lived deeper into the suburb. It looked like Adam's team was dominating. Something weird happened as I got closer to the court, though. First, the guys that were watching the match, turned their attention to me instead. They whispered, nodded, and nudged each other with elbows, all while watching me approach. That would have been weird enough on its own, except that the guys actually playing seemed to notice me after a basket, and they all stopped as well to look at me. Suddenly, I felt very out of place. "Hey," I greeted, fighting against my self-consciousness. Adam took the lead for the group of boys, nodding in greeting as he walked up to talke to me. "Hey." My battle against my self-consciousness quickly went down hill as everyone continued to just stand there doing nothing but stare at me, making me increasingly uneasy. Maybe my mom had been right about this not being a good idea. "Uhm ... I was gonna shoot a few hoops ... " I mumbled, holding up the ball that I'd had tucked under my arm, " ... but I can see you guys are busy, so I guess I should go." "Nonsense," Adam replied dismissively. "Stick around. You can watch me finish burying these two idiots, then maybe you and I can play a game of horse or something." Normally a comment like that would earn an instant rebuke from the other pair, but nobody else bothered to cut in. That wasn't the only weird thing either. Adam, who normally hated my guts, was being creepily nice, like he didn't want me to leave. Sure, he probably didn't recognize me like this, but I'd never seen him act like that before. Normally he chased off anyone that appeared even remotely intimidated by him. "Uhm ... okay ... I guess," I mumbled uncertainly when my mind failed to provide an excuse to leave. "Great! Let me just go win this match real quick," Adam exclaimed, turning to hustle back to the court. From there the game resumed, and I walked over to sit on a low wall nearby to watch the conclusion. Almost instantly, a guy was sitting on the wall on either side of me, asking me questions like which school I went too, what my name was, and how long I'd been into basketball. The attention and questions made me feel even more out of place, but I did answer them, although, I supplied the name Samantha. My mom had insisted that that was my name now, and I hadn't even bothered to argue about it. I clearly wasn't a Samuel anymore and Samantha let me still go by Sam. Unfortunately, the guys that I was talking to decided to shorten the name to Sammy instead, a nickname that I'd always thought was far too cutesy and childish. Thankfully the game went quickly, freeing me from the attention of the onlookers as they all made excuses to go. That resulted in a new problem, however. I was now completely alone with Adam at the court. "Ready for that game of horse, babe?" Adam called out, tipping his head toward the court. I frowned at getting called babe. I was nobody's babe. Rising from my seat and leaving my ball behind, I started toward the court. "I'm ready to play. Question is, are you ready to lose?" Adam grinned. "Oh is that so? Well, show me what you've got." With that, he passed his ball to me intentionally putting a little extra zip on it. In spite of his intentions, I caught the ball with ease, not showing even a slight bit of discomfort. "Gladly." Confident that I could beat a mediocre shot like Adam without any trouble, I strolled up to the top of the key to set up for a long shot. Bending at the knee, I lined up the shot carefully before taking one deep breath. From there, I straightened up, did a short hop and thrust my hand forward. Even though I did everything like I usually did, the ball came out of my hand all wrong. Not only did it go wide left, but it did so with far too much force, slamming into the backboard with a loud whack before deflecting off far to the side. "Not bad," Adam remarked condescendingly before he trotted off to go grab the ball. Once he got back, he lined up for an easier shot at the free throw line and sunk it. "I could give you a few pointers if you'd like." Tossing a glare Adam's way, I jogged over to grab the ball before going to the free throw line. "I don't need pointers." "Suit yourself," Adam responded smugly, shrugging as he stepped out of my way. I moved up to the line, taking a few practice bounces with the ball. Even dribbling felt all wrong to me. It didn't feel like I was bouncing the ball all that hard, but it kept shooting up off the ground far faster and harder than I expected. The ball felt a little bigger too, and moving my arm felt a little off. Plus, there was the shifting of my boobs in the sports bra messing me up. Trying to compensate for all the little problems, I carefully lined up the shot. Try as I might, I couldn't find a stance that felt right, though. I straightened out again and flipped my wrist lightly. Clearly, I'd overcompensated from the last shot as the ball went wide right this time and failed to even make it to the hoop. Instead, it dropped pitifully an inch or two short to bounce off the pavement and out into the grass behind the basket. "Damnit!" I growled in frustration. "That's H," Adam noted confidently as he started walking after the ball. "You sure you don't want some pointers? I'm a very good teacher." "No!" I hissed, enraged my Adam's smug taunting. Adam and I went back and forth a few times. While he didn't always make his shot, I always missed mine. I'd thought being a girl might throw off my game by a little, but it was way worse than that. Trying to use the same amount of strength I was used to resulted in me throwing the ball too hard, one time even right over the backboard. Everything from my hips to my chest to my arms moved just a little bit differently than I was used to as well. Pretty much the only thing I managed to figure out was how to situate the ball in my smaller hands - not that it helped me make a basket. "And that's E," Adam declared arrogantly as my shot clanked off the rim, the closest that I'd gotten to making one the entire time. Utterly disgusted at my performance, I just spun and stomped away. "Where are you going, babe?" "Home," I grumbled as I snatched my ball up from where I'd left it. "I'll walk you," Adam offered, hurrying to catch up with me. I turned and leveled a withering glare at him. "Try it and I'll tear your fucking arms off." Adam backed off, raising his hands non-threateningly. "Sor-ry. Why don't you wear a sign the next time you're on the rag, dyke." That proved to be the last straw for me. Dropping my ball, I lunged at him. Adam just stood there in wide-eyed surprise as I stepped toward him and swung. At the last second he tried to get an arm up to catch my punch, but I plowed right through the attempted block to crunch my fist into his jaw. His head snapped to the side as he toppled to the ground. "Shit!" Adam cursed, rolling on the ground, clutching a hand to his jaw. "You hit like a fucking truck!" I just spun away and stormed off. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Well that fucking sucked," I muttered as I plopped onto my bed. Flopping onto my back, I rubbed my hands over my face and along my hair, trying to calm down a bit. Even after the walk home, I was still furious about everything that had happened at the basketball court. Everything from Adam's condescending attitude, to how the other guys had been suffocatingly interested in me, to my terrible performance in the game was just eating at me. None of it made any sense. Sighing, I raised a hand over my head to peer at it. It didn't look like much, a little smaller and slimmer than my old hand, but pretty normal for a girl. At the same time though, I'd been consistently overthrowing shots, and then I'd punched right through Adam's block to drop him in a single hit - something I wasn't sure I would have been able to do even with a sucker punch before. "I don't think I used my power, though," I mused. Certainly, I hadn't been trying to use my power, but I was angry enough at Adam that I might have accidently. That didn't explain the shots missing, though. I'd tested my telekinesis the day before, though. I knew that my power worked like I remembered, and I definitely hadn't been using it while shooting. Besides, if I'd used my power, I probably would have broken Adam's jaw. As little sense as it made, It seemed like I was just stronger than I was before even though I was a girl now. I wasn't sure of a good way to test that, though. Shrugging, I let the hand fall to my lap. It's not like being stronger was a bad thing or anything, so there was no sense worrying about it too much. I'd just have to get used to it, and it would be fine. Apparently strength wasn't the only thing I was going to have to spend some time getting used to. Attempting real physical activity had taught me that while I hadn't thought being a girl had affected me all that much, it clearly had. My balance was a little off, and I moved a little bit differently. It didn't seem to be a problem just walking around, but it was going to take some work to get used to for anything requiring precise movements. Thinking my physical issues through helped me feel a little better. I would just have to put forth a little extra effort to get used to my new anatomy. It wasn't a big deal at all, certainly not worth getting as worked up over as I had been. "I'll be beating Adam on the court again in no time," I told myself as I got up from the bed to go sit down at my keyboard. If I was going to fix things, I needed to figure out what all was wrong first. It could just be tasks that rely on strength, or anything that required precision. Piano would help me figure that out. Starting slow, I moved through a few simple scales to warm up my fingers and get a feel for things. There didn't seem to be any problems, so I started to step it up, moving through progressively more difficult excerpts from classic piano pieces. It didn't take long for mistakes to start appearing, little fumbles with keys and missed chords even in only moderately difficult songs. The more trying of the pieces that I knew how to play were practically impossible now as mistakes completely threw off my rhythm. "Ugh ... " I groaned when I finally finished, far from happy with my terrible performance. It was going to take a lot of practice to adjust to my different hands, so that I could get back to where I was supposed to be. "So much for enjoying the last day of summer break," I sighed, flexing my fingers a little. After that, I went back to some of the firsts pieces that I made a mistake on and started going through them over and over again to get the perfect like they'd once been. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapte