Bikini Beach: Friends With Benefits free porn video

Bikini Beach: Friends with Benefits By: Light Clark Synopsis: Andy seems like the kind of guy that has it all, rich parents, good looks, and smarts. However, in spite of all that, he leads a double life while hoping to find a special friend who might be willing to share in it. A heavy sigh slid out of my lips as I plunked down at one of the round, common area tables with my lunch tray in hand. It wasn't because of the low-quality, lukewarm meal. I wasn't picky. Nor was it because I was stuck in school a mere two weeks from the end of the year and the freedom that promised. Unlike many, I'd never thought school was all that bad. No, it was my disappointing weekend that had prompted such lament. "This has been way harder than I thought it'd be," I muttered, thinking back over the failures that I'd suffered, and they were numerous - very numerous. After all, I'd spent probably half the weekends of my junior year on such efforts and had yet to find any success. It was enough to make a man lose hope. Fortunately, I was not left to stew in my frustration for long as a voice calling out, "Hey Andy," interjected just before its owner sat at the table a chair down from me. "What's up?" The speaker was my friend and sophomore, Ryan Verlander. Actually, I supposed that I could say that he was my best friend, now. That wasn't to say we were particularly close or that we'd known each other for all that long, because neither was true. We'd only started hanging out this year, a little after Christmas actually. Man ... Christmas ... I'd really thought I'd have this whole thing figured out by them. I was so close, too, so- "Something wrong, man?" Ryan pressed, making me realize that I still hadn't answered him. Adopting an easy smile, I shook my head. "Nah, just ... lost in thought." "About what?" the other teen inquired as he abandoned his concern to start into his meal. "Girls, of course," I offered my usual answer. "Of course," Ryan sighed, rolling his eyes at the answer. We may not have known each other for long, but it was long enough for him to be not just aware of but tired of my constant obsession. "Seriously, I don't get why you don't just ask one of 'em out rather than fantasize about 'em all day. It's not like you couldn't get one to say yes." That was true. Not to toot my horn, but I was considered quite the catch - tall and good-looking with a nice, lean build from plenty of swimming and icy blue eyes that had a way of driving girls wild. It was enough that I wouldn't even have had to ask a girl out like Ryan was proposing. Over the year, several had actually asked me out, but I wasn't interested. "I've told ya," I countered, although, I wasn't actually sure that I'd told this to Ryan yet. I'd had a lot of friends this year, and sometimes, it got hard to keep them apart. "It never lives up to the fantasy." "Yeah, but you can't hold a fantasy," Ryan pointed out. "All you're left holding is yourself." That remarked got a healthy chuckle out of me. "Nothing wrong with loving yourself." "Until you go blind from it," the teen shot back. This time, I blasted out a full on guffaw. "So true, but I think you may be surprised how little ... 'personal time'," I added some air quotes around the innuendo for extra emphasis. "I actually take." "You're right, I would be surprised," Ryan answered. "Mostly 'cause I never think about it and don't wanna know." "Fair enough," I allowed, trailing off into a chuckle. "But what about your own solo issues? Weren't you gonna ask out some crush of yours?" "And I did," Ryan huffed defiantly before his shoulders slouched and he added in a mumble, "But I got the 'I'm just not ready for a new relationship, yet. Can't we just be friends?'." "Friendzoned, ouch," I hissed sympathetically. "Funny how they always think you'll wanna still be friends after they crush your dreams." Letting out a sigh, Ryan nodded out a, "Yep." "But hey, bright side, that means you're still free to hang with me, for now," I added optimistically. My friend didn't seem to take it the say way, rolling his eyes as he muttered a sarcastic, "Hurray, just what I always wanted." "Don't be a smartass," I chided even as I snickered at the boy's joke. "No one likes those, always farting around like they know everything." Ryan chuckled at that, but it quickly trailed into a sigh. "Alright, man, sure, we can hang out. Got anything in mind?" "Nope, you know me, I just ride along and make my parents pay for stuff," I replied with a grin. "God, I hate you," Ryan muttered in frustration. "My parents won't pay for shit. I've had my license since October and I still have to ride the bus to school, 'cause they won't even buy me a damn car." "Well, you're welcome to drive mine whenever you want," I offered. Rolling his eyes, my friend dismissively scoffed, "Yeah, right." "I'm serious, dude," I told him. "I don't really like driving it." "You don't like driving a year old, cherry red mustang?" Ryan asked incredulously. I shrugged. "It gets old." "Right ..." Ryan remarked dubiously. "Trust me. It does," I insisted. "Besides, sometimes you just want to lay back and let other people do the work." "Whatever, man ..." Ryan replied, shaking his head at me. "Regardless, all I really want to do is sit around watching movies and shit, so if you want me to get off my ass and hang out with you, you've gonna do some of your own damn work and figure out what we're doing." Chuckling, I nodded in agreement. "Alright. I'll come up with something." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Ah, home sweet home," I sighed as I stepped through the door from the garage. Only stillness and the echo of my words and the metallic jingling of the keys that I bounced in my hand answered me. Well, those and my footsteps as I started the long trek from the garage to my room. That was one of the prices of a big, fancy house - it always took a lot of walking to get anywhere. "I wonder if I could get the 'rents to put in one of those treadmill things from airports," I mused along the way, thinking how much more convenient that would be. My mom would probably just say something about it ruining the decor or hurting the resale value or whatever, assuming I could get her to sit down and talk about it at all, but that didn't matter. It was just an idle thought anyway. That and others like it occupied my mind right up until I passed the parlour. I ducked in there real quick to pop open one of the house's liquor cabinets. There was some nice scotch waiting inside, and a quick shot was just the thing I needed after a day at school and the frustrating weekend that had preceded it. "Ah ... that's better," I chirped brightly as I finished off the drink and put everything away. Even if I left it out, I doubted anyone would notice, but there was no need to test my luck. My parents might not pay much attention, but when they did, they could be incredibly harsh. I'd always just found it easier to stay off their radar. It wasn't like hiding shit from them was hard, after all. With that detour complete, I returned to my hike, heading upstairs to my room. I didn't stay in there, though, just tossed my backpack by my desk, then went across the hall to the upstairs home theater. There, I turned on some music and flopped on the couch. "What to do ... what to do ..." I muttered, rubbing at my head. There were plenty of options. There was a massive TV with every channel, game system, and game I could want just a few feet away. There was a computer back in my room. I had my phone in my pocket. I could get back in my car and go anywhere in town. Nothing really struck me, though. "If only it was Friday not Monday," I lamented. Alas, the weekend had only just ended, and it hadn't been a particularly good one either. The next one would be better, though. I could just stop worrying about shit for a week, relax, and cut loose. Thinking about exactly that, I pulled out my phone to bring up my calendar. If memory served ... yep, there was a frat party this weekend. It was one of what would undoubtedly be many big events at the university as the school year wound down. "Still a week away, too," I grumbled in annoyance. Plus, the one that would happen the weekend after would probably be even better, but if I didn't put in some effort this weekend, I wouldn't be up for a party, then. Maybe it would make more sense to do it the other way around. "Not sure I'm ready for another try, yet, though ..." Even as I wondered about that, my phone buzzed to life in my hand. Returning my attention to it, I found a text from one of my older friends. "Huh, haven't hung with him for a bit," I remarked as I read on. "But getting some pizza does sound better than just sitting here by myself, so ..." Quickly, I typed out an affirmative, shoved my phone back in my pocket and hopped to my feet, eager to be off toward activity and out of my own damn head. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Jeez, dude, what happened to your face?" Ryan asked as he sat down for lunch again. Waving a hand dismissively, I muttered, "Nothing much. Just a reminder that fighting's never as easy as I think it'll be." That remark had my friend screwing his face up in confusion. "Fighting? You?" "What? Didn't think I could hold my own?" I remarked with a smirk. Ryan quickly shook his head. "Nope, just never expected you to have to. I mean, have you ever been angry?" "Everyone's been angry at some point, man," I pointed out. "Even the most laid-back hippy gets worked up if someone tries to cut down his trees." Chuckling, Ryan nodded in concession. "True enough, but you don't exactly strike me as an environmentalist." "Really? What gave it away? The gas guzzling car? The fact that I never recycle my soda cans, because some idiot thought we needed eight trash cans and only one recycling bin on the opposite fucking side of the room from where I sit," I ranted lightheartedly. "Yep, basically," my friend agreed. "Does make me wonder, though, what it takes to ruffle your feathers, because since we've met, I don't think I've never seen you even close to ruffled." "Well, all ya gotta do is try something with a girl that she doesn't like, and you'll see," I promised with an odd mix of my previously lax attitude and a serious bent to my voice. That answer actually got Ryan's eyebrows shooting upward. "Really? You, the guy that doesn't date 'cause he doesn't think real women aren't good enough, got into a fight on a girl's behalf?" "Yep," I affirmed. "It's a guy's job to take care of girls, hold doors, pay for meals, and beat the crap out of lowlifes." "How ... chivalric of you. When were you born, in the twelve hundreds?" my friend remarked dryly. Offering an indifferent shrug, I answered, "Make your jokes, but there was no way that girl was gonna punch out that guy, and she was grateful that I got him away from her, so clearly I did something right." "No, you did. I'm just still baffled by the fact that you, of all people, feel this way," Ryan clarified. "How can you think a woman's worth getting a black eye over but not worth going out with?" "Well, like I said, the first one's a guy's job," I began. "Some would say the second one is, too," Ryan noted. "Y'know, the whole survival of the species thing." "Yeah, well, the nice thing about fighting for them is I get to walk away once the punches are finished with," I explained. "Dating requires me to stick around, and they're gonna have to do their jobs if they want me to do mine on that front." Ryan raised an eyebrow at that remark. "Oh? Women have a job now, too? This should be good." "Oh yeah, now who's the one from the twelve hundreds, Mr. thinks women can't have jobs?" I shot back. Laughing, Ryan replied, "I guess it depends on what sort of job you're talking here. I'm guessing you feel its either hand, tit, or mouth?" "This has nothing to do with that," I refuted with clear disgust. "How two consenting persons pleasure one another is their own damn business." "Oh, is that so?" Ryann tried again. "Yes," I stated firmly. Shrugging at the dead end, my friend circled back to his first question, "Then what's this job women have? Maybe, I can find you one who actually does it?" "I doubt it," I replied pessimistically. "Well, I certainly can't if you don't tell me what it is," Ryan pointed out. "Not my problem," I answered. "But you know what is my problem, coming up with something for us to do, so how 'bout we grab something to eat after school." That plan had Ryan twisting his face uncertainly. "I don't know, man. I kinda wanna just get outta here, crash on my couch, and zone out." "Are you sure? I'll let you drive my car," I pressed. "We can even take it over to the edge of town where those gearheads do their racing shit, so you can really open it up." There was still doubt on my friend's face, but I could see the resistance crumbling. "Uhm ... okay. Meet ya at your car once school's out?" I nodded in agreement. "Works for me." *********************************************** *********************************************** The sound of a roaring engine mingled with the clatter and spit of gravel being thrown about under skidding tires as the car spun around in a big, loose loop. In the passenger seat for the whole ordeal, all I could do was brace myself and enjoy the ride. It was easy to do, like being on some really wild rollercoaster. While I was having some fun, it was nothing compared to Ryan. Behind the wheel, the other teen had been whooping and hollering with every twist, turn, and burst of speed he put the car through. This time, though, at the end of his loop, he let the car lurch to a stop, seeming to finally be ready to call it quits. "Damn man! This car is amazing! Fuck!" Ryan shouted, even going so far as to smack his hands on the wheel on that last word. "How can you possibly not like driving this thing?!" "First of all, it's not like I hate it. I'm just not excited about it," I corrected. "And second, I could show you how, by dragging your ass out here every damn day and making you do the same damn shit over and over. You'd get bored of it eventually." "I don't know about that," my friend remarked, eyeing the dash jealously. "Maybe if I was out here every day, but not just like, driving it around town or something." Not seeing much point in arguing something that couldn't be proven, I shrugged. "Whatever, if you like it so much, have at it, but while you're playing chauffeur, I'm hungry, so how about we go grab something to eat?" "That sounds good to me," Ryan replied, twisting the wheel and revving the engine. A moment later, he took off, kicking up more gravel as the car fishtailed a bit on the unstable ground. He got it straightened out before too long, though, racing off toward the main road. "And try not to get us pulled over," I warned. "I'm in no mood to spend twenty minutes on the side of the road waiting for some cop to write you a ticket." "Aw, come on, in this baby, I could probably outrun 'em," Ryan countered confidently. I rolled my eyes. "Great, my tombstone's gonna read, 'Stupidly let his friend drive'." "Alright, alright," Ryan conceded, easing up on the gas a little. "Jeez, what a killjoy." "Not at all, I enjoy my life and you're the one looking to end it," I joked. "You're the killjoy." "Whatever," my friend conceded before quickly changing topics. "Where we going to eat, anyway?" I shrugged. "Wherever you want." "Alright, what do I want, then?" Ryan mused aloud. "How the fuck should I know," I taunted. "Even with x-ray vision I couldn't see through that thick skull of yours." "Actually, with x-ray vision you couldn't see through anyone's skull," Ryan pointed out. "That's sorta what makes x-rays work. They get absorbed by bone while going through everything else." "Oh, look at that, the smartass is back to fart all over everything again," I snarked. Grinning, my friend just shrugged off my mocking. "Hey, if you don't wanna get blasted by the smartass, maybe you should think up some better insults." Chuckling, I nodded in concession. "Maybe, I should." Rather than add more, I drifted off into silence, and Ryan seemed to still be too into driving my car to care about talking. At least, so I assumed from the grin that would curl his lips every time we'd have to stop at a light, allowing him to rev the engine into another tire squealing take off. That was fine, though. In spite of his supposed lack of driving experience, he seemed to handle the car well enough, and at least, he wasn't moping about that girl who'd turned him down anymore. If only I could solve my own problems so easily. Sighing, I shifted my gaze to the passenger window, watching the world zoom by as my thoughts wandered aimlessly. They didn't have to keep that up for long, however. It was a small town, after all, so Ryan was soon pulling us into a parking lot. "Sandwich shop? Really?" I question in surprise at our destination. "Yeah," Ryan confirmed as he turned off the car. "Why? You got something against sandwiches?" Unbuckling my seat belt, I shook my head. "Nope, just surprising is all," I answered, pushing open my door to get out. "Usually, when people see if I'm buying they either head to someplace expensive or for something they can pig out on, like a fancy sitdown place or a takeout order of a dozen extra large pizzas for three guys." "And how do you know I'm not gonna make you buy me one of those six foot party subs?" Ryan inquired as he got out, as well, smirking the whole way. Laughing while we both closed our doors, I shrugged. "I don't, but that would certainly be a first." "Well, sorry to disappoint ya, but I don't like taking advantage like that," Ryan replied as we started off toward the restaurant. "Besides, I like sandwiches." "Me too," I concurred with a smile. As we reached the door, an older guy with a bag of subs in one hand came out, stopping to hold the door for us. "Thanks," Ryan mumbled politely as he passed, which I parroted when I followed after him. "Sure thing," the stranger replied before we were by each other. Right in the middle of rush hour, the place was pretty busy, leaving the two of us to take our place in line, waiting to order. It looked to be going pretty quickly, so I doubted the wait would be a long one. Still, it left some idle time, so I glanced toward my friend, trying to decide what to talk about while we filled the time. "Oh, hey, here are your keys," Ryan spoke up first, fishing the car keys from his pocket to hand them to me. Holding up my hands, I shook my head. "Nah, you hold onto 'em until we get to your place." "You sure?" Ryan asked. I nodded in affirmation. "Yep." "Alright," my friend agreed. "Not like I'm gonna complain about getting a little more time behind the wheel of that thing. It's amazing." "So you've said," I remarked absently. "Well, it is," Ryan repeated himself. "Wish my parents would buy me something even half that nice. Hell, I'd settle for worse than that at this point." "You wanna hang out again on Saturday?" I asked without preamble, ditching more talk about cars. The sudden topic switch momentarily bewildered my friend, furrowing his brow. "Huh? Oh ... uhm, sure, I guess. Got a movie you wanna see or something?" "Not exactly," I answered. "I was thinking we'd hang out in the afternoon, then go to this frat party that I know about in the evening." "A frat party?" Ryan blurted incredulously, eyes going wide. "How are we gonna get into something like that?" "Don't worry, I can get us in," I assured him. "Oh, and bring a swimsuit." "A swimsuit?" came the other teen's second question, but this time, he just shrugged off his doubts. "Alright. I'll bring one." "Great," I answered before pointing toward the counter. "You're up." *********************************************** *********************************************** "A waterpark? Seriously? What are we ten?" Ryan questioned skeptically as I guided the car along toward exactly such a destination. "Yes, seriously a waterpark, and no we're not ten," I replied, glancing over to add, "Obviously." Rolling his eyes, my friend let out an exasperated sigh. "Then why the fuck would I want to go hang out at a waterpark?" "It's hot out?" I tried. "That's what air-conditioning is for, jackass," Ryan spat derisively. That got a chuckle out of me as I offered another answer. "How about because the place is loaded with total hotties." "First of all, isn't that what that party tonight is for? And secondly, there is no way this place is 'loaded with hotties', unless you've got a thing for little girls, in which case, seek help," Ryan retorted. "'Cause seriously, even just keeping that to fantasy is fucked up." "No, I'm not into little girls, dipshit," I shot back. "I mean ... there are little girls there, but they're not who I'm talking about." "Right ..." the teen remarked uncertainly. "They're not!" I insisted. "I'm talking about hot girls, highschool to college aged. Lots of 'em." "No way," Ryan denied outright. "Yes way!" I retorted. Ryan just shook his head. "Nope. Why would a bunch of hot highschool and college girls go to a waterpark, and more importantly, how the fuck would we not know about it? Guys from all over would be swarming this place just to look at 'em if nothing else." "Look, you don't gotta believe me-" I started a new argument. "And I don't," Ryan interjected. After tossing my friend a quick look of annoyance, I turned back to the road and continued. "All you gotta do is ride along until we get there and look out the window. Then, you'll see the truth, and I'll give you a big fat helping of I told you so." "But when I don't see these fictitious hot chicks, I expect a different big fat helping of ... food," Ryan countered. "Deal," I agreed without the slightest of hesitation. My apparent certainty gave my friend pause for a moment, but he quickly shrugged it off. "Easy to gamble when it's not your money on the line." "Hey, you're the one that set the terms," I pointed out. "Want to wager something else? Maybe, make me do something embarrassing instead? I don't care. I'll still take ya on, 'cause I know I'm right." "Fine, fine, just bring 'em on then," Ryan relented. "Alright, just a minute," I told him. That estimate proved to be pretty much spot on as just over a minute later, I was turning into the parking lot for the waterpark, a place called Bikini Beach. Even though it wasn't technically summer, the place was pretty crowded. That meant an annoyingly long walk after I parked my car, but it also meant that there were plenty of people to see entering the place, people that proved my earlier claims right. Bikini Beach was certainly strange as such parks go. Their attendance was very broad, from little kids, to teens, to even adult and old women on their own. Such groups were almost always either all or mostly female with very few boys in the mix. There did seem to be another group of teen boys with similar interests to Ryan, looking for some easy access to eye candy and dating prospects, but outside of that, it was mostly little boys filtered in among the gaggles of children. "Wow ... this is, like, legitimately unbelievable," Ryan remarked as he gawked out the window. "This place is like ninety percent girls and tons of 'em are hot." Turning to me, he demanded, "How have I never heard about this place?!" "My guess is before you never needed to before," I answered as I found a spot, pulled my car in, and stopped. Once the engine was off, I turned to grin at my friend. "But hey, you have now, so you ready to get to it?" "Hell yeah!" Ryan exclaimed shoving his door open to spring out of the car. For my part, I was much more languid as I slid out to stroll easily toward the park. Even in his eagerness the other boy waited to walk along beside me. "How did you hear about this place anyway?" I smiled mysteriously. "I have my ways." "Right ..." the other teen muttered, rolling his eyes. "Is that how you're getting us into that frat party, too?" "In a manner of speaking," I confirmed. "Really? Not gonna tell me anything, huh?" Ryan noted. I shook my head. "Nope, it'll be more fun to witness than to talk about." That comment had my friend raising an eyebrow. "Really? You've got some sort of spectacle planned?" This time, I didn't even say a word, just grinned and shrugged. "Whatever, as long as it doesn't require me to do anything embarrassing," Ryan huffed dismissively. "You can embarrass yourself, though, if you'd like." "I can't say I have any plans for that, but I'm glad to have your permission," I joked as I led the way up to the service booth by the gate. In spite of the park's high traffic, there wasn't much of a line - just the guys I noticed earlier and a couple groups of girls. It wasn't long before all of those were out of the way, leaving me to step up to the counter. On the other side, was a girl that proved that not just the guests were young and pretty. She was in her twenties, dark-haired, and beautiful, wearing a staff swimsuit that was hardly risque but still plenty sexy on such a nice figure. A little tag attached to the suit announced her name was Anya. The sight of me put a smile on the girl's face, but not the clean professional one that she gave to most customers. No, the one I earned was twisted in that exasperated and condescending way that one smiles at a troublemaking little boy. "Ah, Andy Harper, back again, I see." "As I'm sure you knew I would be," I replied, pulling out my wallet to toss my card onto the counter. "The usual please." "Well, you're persistent to say the least," Anya replied as she picked up my card to run the bill. As she did, she smiled over at Ryan a much more friendly and sympathetic variant the one I'd been favored with. "Nice to meet a friend of Andy's." "N-Nice to meet you, too," my friend answered, obviously a bit intimidated by the older woman's beauty. Interesting ... Nodding, Anya turned back to her task, quickly finishing with my card before printing out a pass for Ryan, both of which she handed to me. "Alright, here's his day pass. Don't forget to shower before you enter the park, and try not to get too wild. Alright?" "I'll keep that in mind," I answered seriously, taking both items. Tossing the pass over to Ryan, I slipped my card into my wallet, switching it out for a different item. "Don't you need a pass, man?" Ryan asked as he caught his. "Already have one," I answered, holding up the bit of plastic that I'd retrieved. "Ah, guess that explains why the staff knows you," Ryan remarked. "You must come here all the time." "Well, you're half right," I replied with a chuckling before turning toward the gates. "Now come on. The park awaits." That guidance got Ryan moving, but as he did, he favored me with a bewildered look. "What do you mean, half right?" As with earlier, my only answer was a grin and shrug. "Geh, you're weird," my friend huffed, shaking his head. Well, I had no arguments for that, and even if I did, I wouldn't have voiced them. Such things would only slow us down, and I was eager to charge forward. I swiped through the gate with practiced ease and marched straight to the men's locker room. "Look how much smaller it is than the girl's one," Ryan remarked as we neared the door. "It's as big as it needs to be," I told him, yanking open the barrier and holding it for the other guy. "Let's just get changed, shower, and get out there." "What's with that shower shit, anyway?" my friend asked as he walked in, immediately moving over to the available lockers as he stripped off his shirt. "Health regulation. I guess to make sure nobody tries to use one of the pools as a bathtub?" I remarked, finding my own locker to strip down by. As I did, I glanced over at my friend. Unlike me, Ryan was a decidedly average looking guy. Five-eleven was maybe a bit tall for a sophomore, but still three inches shorter than I was. He was pretty lanky, too without much muscle. Altogether, pretty unimpressive. Shrugging, I yanked down the shorts I had on over my trunks, then tossed everything into the locker and took the key. After that, I spun around, heading to the other side of the room which was full of shower stalls. "Whatever the reason, make sure you do, because you don't want to get in trouble here. Trust me." "Why? What are they gonna do to me, splash water in my face?" the other boy joked. "Maybe," I answered with incongruous solemnity. Laughing, Ryan followed me over to the showers, picking a stall of his own. "Well, I'll be sure to be on my best behavior, then." "Good," I replied, before I turned the knob and felt the first hit of water. Contrary to most public showers, Bikini Beach had excellent facilities. The spray was always steady, and most importantly warm. It even felt sort of like a vibrating shower head with the way the water tingled on a person's skin, massaging away focus and worries, so that they could just enjoy the moment. It was a little too good at that in my opinion, as I frequently found myself getting caught up in it rather than paying attention to other, very interesting, things. As the tingling started to fade, I shook my head to clear it, reached out, and shut off the water. Even then, I still wasted a moment, clinging to the knob to steady myself. Fortunately, the sound of running water from Ryan's shower continued through that, allowing me to regain my senses and look that way. Most people would have been shocked by what I saw, but this was not my first time through these showers. As such, seeing Ryan standing there, looking shorter and softer than just a few moments ago was no surprise. Nor were the budding mounds on his chest that were still maybe passable as man-boobs at that moment, but wouldn't be for long, especially not with their continued growth. As I watched, the 'boy' shrank until he couldn't be more than five- six. That was much less important than the curves that filled in his frame, turning lanky into pretty voluptuous. The large, bare breasts capped with stiff nipples were obvious, but the wide hips that his trunks-turned-bikini-bottoms now rested on were no less feminine. Some might consider his legs and waist a bit thick, but overall, it was a very nice figure that he was obviously completely unaware of, especially when it came to the decidedly flat front that rested between his legs. "Wow ... nice showers," the now-girl breathed as she finally shut off the water and turned toward the door. She seemed to completely miss the somewhat-throaty but obviously female tone to her voice as she said those words, but that maybe that could be forgiven given how unlikely such a change was. Rather than respond, I just kept watching the girl, my gaze growing more intense as my hands clenched tightly. In just a couple seconds, she would round the corner and see the mirror on the door there. That was the moment of truth. There would be no mistaking her reaction, there. "Don't comment about forgetting your top. Just don't ... come on ..." I muttered under my breath as I drifted forward, staying well behind the girl. Then, finally, Ryan slipped around the corner, and I sucked in a sharp breath of anticipation. "Whoa! Sorry!" the former boy blurted, yanking her hands up to block her eyes even as those very eyes tilted downward. "What the fuck!" came her second, much louder outburst as thoughts of blocking her vision were replaced by a need to use her hands to grope her newly discovered breasts. My jaw dropped at that reaction as my eyes went wide with disbelief. There was no way to mistake this, right? That was definitely the reaction of a boy discovering that he'd been turned into a girl. "Oh my god, you actually remember!" I gasped, still overwhelmed by this turn of events. How many friends had I brought here only to be disappointed? A dozen? More? A whole year's worth of work to never find another one that remembered the change, but here it was, finally, someone else like me. It seemed that Ryan was still quite bewildered by the situation as well, since she didn't even seem to hear me, but just blurted out, "It's gone!" as her hands darted lower. That sealed things for me even as it pulled a snicker from my lips. "Well of course, it is! You'd look pretty peculiar if it wasn't!" This time, I was loud and intrusive enough to break through Ryan's shock, getting the former boy to turn toward me. She did so with a hilarious stunned expression on her face that got another laugh out of me, a laugh that she didn't seem to approve of. Narrowing her eyes, she demanded, "Who are you? Did you do this to me?!" "I'm the only other person who was in here with you," I answered gesturing at my chest, a chest that I knew was as bare and be-boobed as my friend's was. "The person who ... Abby?!" the girl questioned incredulous before furrowing her brow. "I mean Abby. Abby! ABBY!" "Yelling isn't going to fix it, especially since you got it right the first time," I answered with a grin. "I am Abigail Harper, but not when we first got here. Just like you're, Rebecca Verlander ... really Becka, huh? Okay ..." I trailed off for a moment before I got back on track. "Anyway, like me, you were a little different outside than you are now. Right?" "More than just a little," Becka growled gesturing pointedly at her female body. "I'm a fucking girl." "Yes, me too," I answered. "Then, why the fuck are you so calm about it?!" Becka blurted. Giggling, I shrugged. "Might have something to do with the fact that I've been coming here since I was a little kid." "And this always ... wait ..." Becka started to say only to trail off as the pieces started to fall into place. "You brought me here to turn me into a girl?!" "Jeez, girl, relax. It's just for a day," I replied nonchalantly. "You'll turn back tonight." "I will?" Becka questioned doubtfully. Smiling, I nodded slowly. "Yep, so stop freaking out. Nothing terrible's happening, you haven't been castrated or something, you're just gonna get to see how the other half lives for a little bit." Jaw clenching, the former boy leveled a glare at me. "Change me back." "I can't," I answered. "I said change me back!" Becka screamed. My answer was a helpless shrug. "You can yell and scream all you want, but I'm not some wizard. I didn't do this. The park did, and it's not gonna turn you back until tonight, so you should really relax and try to have some-" "I'm going home," the girl stated, spinning away from me to march toward her locker. "Wait!" I blurted, dashing over to snag the girl's wrist and drag her to a stop. "Let go of me!" Becka yelled as she tugged hard on her arm. Given her full-figure and slightly thick frame, she actually had a fair bit of weight to throw around, nearly yanking herself free. Luckily, I'd retained enough athleticism that even as a girl I was strong enough to keep my grip. "No, not until you calm down and think about this rationally," I countered. "There's nothing rational about me being turned into a fucking girl?!" Becka shrieked hysterically. "How is that even fucking possible?! Chemicals in the water?! Hallucinogens?!" "Magic, actually," I answered. Even with as absurd as the situation was, Becka was taken aback by that, giving me a dubious look as she parroted, "Magic?" "Yeah, Magic, as in that girl at the ticket counter, Anya, she's a witch," I answered only for my friend's mouth to immediately open, undoubtedly to refute the claim, but I cut her off. "And before you say anything, think about the fact that in a couple of minutes you grew those boobs and lost your dick. What else is doing that but magic?" "But magic can't ... I mean there has to be ..." the former boy stammered, but at the same time, she looked down. The sight there defeated every argument. "I know it's hard to believe, but there is actual magic in the world, and we both just experienced it," I pressed. "Now, we can either take advantage of it, and get a perspective on life that most guys will never have, or you can act like a little bitch, go home, and cry into your pillow all night 'cause you can't live without your dick for twelve hours." That was a risky play, one that was just as likely to earn me a gigantic 'Fuck you!' as it was to get me what I wanted, but desperate times and all that. Luckily, there wasn't any such immediate outburst. Instead, I could see my words finally sinking into my friend's head. "It's really just for twelve hours?" the former boy questioned skeptically. "Well, there's not like an exact time frame on it, but you'll go to sleep as a girl and wake up as a boy. I promise," I assured her. "Okay then," Becka relented. "I guess this is a pretty special kind of opportunity ..." "Exactly," I chirped brightly. "And trust me, it's really not gonna be as bad as you think. The magic's gonna smooth things over for you, so being a girl will be a breeze." Lifting her gaze, Becka crinkled her brow at me. "The magic's gonna do what now?" "Here, easier to just show you," I said, holding up a finger to get the girl to wait. Then, I ducked around her, walking over to the bench where there were two bikini tops. I grabbed them both, but the larger one, which was also more full cover and the same orange as Becka's bikini bottoms, I gave to the newly minted girl. "Here try to put this on, but don't think about how to actually do it. Just sorta let your hands move." "Alright ..." Becka agreed reluctantly taking the garment while eyeing it suspiciously. There were a couple false starts where she pulled it toward her chest only to stop midway and go back to staring, but eventually, she made a real attempt. It went flawlessly. The girl slid it on like she'd been doing it for years, and given the size of her chest, she probably had been. She wasn't happy about it, though, eyeing her covered breast with a little bit of fear. "Okay, that's really creepy." "It can be at first, but trust me, when you're trying to walk around in heels later, you're gonna be real glad you've got some training wheels to keep you from crashing," I told the girl as I slipped on my own top. Once I had, I stepped over in front of the mirror to see if anything needed adjusting. As usual, the park's magic water had done an excellent job. There was no sign of the handsome young man I saw so often in my bathroom mirror back home. Instead, there was a tall girl standing there with blonde hair. She wasn't as curvy as Becka was, but she wasn't some twig either, with nice, albeit modest curves and a physique that was lean and athletically toned. "God, it's like you really are a girl," Becka remarked as she watched me fuss with my appearance. "Well, this is hardly my first time," I pointed out as I turned back around to look at my friend. "But also, until tomorrow, as far as anything in this world is concerned, we are really girls, and have been since we were born. Friends, parents, everyone who knows us will only remember Abby and Becka." "Okay, no - that's - really creepy," Becka corrected her earlier claim. Smiling, I shrugged. "Just be glad they don't use their magic for evil, and that you're here with me, and not because you did something to earn yourself a ... longer visit, if you catch my meaning." "Longer ... wait ... they turn guys into girls here, like, forever?" Becka questioned, eyes going wide. "Some really bad ones, like rapists and stuff, yeah," I told her. "Most guys, though, just get a short lesson on how to the other half lives, if they even remember that is. The actually majority just don't even realize they've been changed, spend a day as a girl, then wake up their old selves thinking they'd just had fun at a waterpark like normal." "Okay, I'm gonna need you to stop talking now," my friend answered, looking decidedly pale. Chuckling, I nodded in agreement. "Fair enough. How 'bout we go have some fun in the park. It's a great place to loosen up and get used to the new you." Twisting his face up skeptically, Becka glanced down at her bikini clad self. "You want me to go hang around in a water park ... like this?" "Girls wear bikinis, Becka," I pointed out. "Besides, it's an all- girl park. Literally every guy that comes gets transformed like we did, so there's no one to gawk at you or even care." "Still ..." Becka held on reluctantly. "Plus, since it's an all-girl park, if you're ever unsure of how to act, you can just look around to see dozens of examples of either how to do it right or just that what you're doing isn't that weird at alll," I added. The new girl tilted her head from side to side before finally lifted her gaze back to me. "It's really just until tomorrow?" "Yes, it really is," I assured her. Finally, Becka relented with a shrug. "Okay, let's go." "Excellent!" I declared brightly, bounding over to the door and yanking it open. "After you!" "Ugh, you're way to fucking happy about this," Becka muttered as she walked by me, stepping out into the sun. "Of course," I chirped as I followed after her. "Because you're sadistic or 'cause you just like being a girl?" Becka questioned as she glanced around with obvious trepidation. That feeling's hold on her only grew more clear as she folded her arms and hunched forward. "Well, first of all, you're gonna find out being a girl is more fun than you probably thought, but only if you actually embrace it," I informed her before smacking her on the back between her shoulder blades. "So stop hunching over like you live in a french cathedral. Most of these people don't even know the park is magical. No one knows you used to be a boy except me. No one is looking at you. No one fucking cares that you're wearing a bikini. Hell, it's not even a skimpy one. Mine covers way less as do a lot of the ones we can see right now. Ooo, like hers." Pointing off to one side, my finger singled out a blonde woman that pretty much had to be a stripper. She was made out of curves, curves which were really more shown off than covered by the teeny, tiny strings of her bikini, and it was pretty much just strings. Hell, the whole thing could be one single piece wrapped around her to barely hide everything it needed to. 'Whoa ..." Becka gasped at the sight. "Yeah, decent chance she's one of those rapists or whatever that got punished," I remarked, going more off the vacant, cheery look on the girl's face and the bikini's style than anything else to do with her appearance. She just looked like an empty-headed man-hunter. "Remind me to be on my best behavior ... forever," Becka told me. Giggling, I shrugged. "I don't know. You might be surprised how much fun a girl like that can have." "And how would you know?" Becka questioned. "Because I've tried it before," I answered matter-of-factly. "What?!" my friend blurted. "How?!" Turning back to the other girl, I screwed my face up incredulously. "Really? We're in a magic park, and you're asking how?" "Oh ... right ..." Becka muttered before something clearly clicked for her. "Wait ... did you like design these bodies? Is that why I'm stuck with these huge balloons while you've got those small ones." "Hey! They're not small! They're perfectly normal sized!" I protested defensively. That response earned me an uneasy look from Becka. "Uhm ..." "Sorry, girl's gotta defend her assets," I apologized perfunctorily before switching back to the original topic. "And also, no, I didn't design these bodies. This is what I would've looked like if I'd been born a girl, right down to the fact that I bleach my hair. I'm a little less certain about you, though. My arrangement with Anya is to make sure any friend I bring is at least cute, even if they wouldn't be normally, so you may have been ... upgraded. I don't actually know, but you certainly look like you could be a girl you." "So these things could be your fault?" Becka argued, glaring down at her chest. I shrugged helplessly. "Maybe? Do the girls in your family tend to be big up top?" "I don't know. I don't exactly go around checking out my relatives," Becka answered sharply before adding a shrug of her own. "But I guess my mom's are kinda big." "Then, I think you might have to blame them on her," I remarked with a grin. Sighing, the other girl rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let's just go see what this park has to offer." *********************************************** *********************************************** Arms and legs working in fluid harmony, I cut through the water's grip with ease. I loved that feeling, almost like I'd figured out how to fly in the sky. Well, I guess swimming probably wasn't really all that comparable to that, but it still felt great. A few more strokes and I found reached the wall. Drifting to a stop, I grabbed ahold and yanked myself up out of the water. A rush of cold shot through me as wet skin met the air, but it didn't last long. The sun was hot enough and my blood was pumping after the workout. By the time I'd flipped myself around to sit on the lip of the pool and look back where I'd just been, I was warm again. Back that way, I saw the form of my friend, trailing behind me by quite a bit. Some of that was probably because, while she clearly knew how to swim, I doubted she practiced every week like I did. I even went to an indoor pool during the cold months. A lot of that practice was as a girl, too, giving me another leg up in terms of speed. "Oh ... looks like you finally made it, slowpoke," I teased when the other girl finally reached the end of the pool. Clinging to the wall, Becka gasped for air as she huffed out, "You only won ... 'cause you've got ... less drag ..." That retort just got a snicker out of me. "Y'know, you're really starting to sound like one of those bitchy, big-boobed girls that is always complaining about their tits to draw attention to them." "Fuck you!" my friend spat, glaring up at me. I kept right on snickering at the girl.. "Sorry, but you're just not my type right now." "What do you mean, 'right now'?" Becka questioned, furrowing her brow at me. "I mean, you're cute, but I'm not into girls at the moment," I explained. "You aren't either by the way." "What are you talking about? Sure I-" Becka started to declare as she shifted her grip on the wall to drag herself out of the pool. Unfortunately, she didn't quite take into account those complaints of hers, staying a little too close to the wall. As such, she ended up catching her chest on the lip and falling back into water with pained, "Ow! Stupid fucking - Aargh!" More laughter, girlish giggles this time, leaked out of me. "Gotta be careful with those." "Ah ... seriously, go grab one of those umbrella poles and shove it up your ass," Becka hissed as she rubbed at her sore chest. "Jeez ... so angry all the time," I chided, clicking my tongue at the girl. "You're never gonna snag a man like that." "Good, 'cause I don't fucking want to," Becka huffed, trying again to get herself out of the pool. This time, she accounted for her chest properly, but not the strength of her arms, making her second attempt fail as well. It wasn't until her third attempt that she finally got out of the water, flopped onto land, then rolled onto her back to just stare up at the sun. "God ... this is a nightmare." Chuckling, I rolled my eyes at my friend. "That's not what you said when we were doing those water slides earlier. I distinctly remember you squealing with delight." "I did not 'squeal'," my friend denied, putting an extra, derisive emphasis on that final word. "It was either a squeal of delight or shriek of terror. Which do you prefer?" I teased. "I'd prefer a new friend - one who's mute," Becka huffed. Shrugging, I decided to oblige my friend, falling silent. That left the girl free to just lay there for a few moments and finish catching her breath. Unfortunately, it also left a gap for her thoughts to start churning. "Were you serious earlier about us not liking girls right now?" Becka asked a few moments later. Keeping my lips sealed, I glanced about idly. "Abby?" my friend asked, sitting up. When that didn't get an answer either, she even poked my arm. Glancing the other girl's way, I smiled but didn't say anything. "Were you serious about the not liking girls thing?" Becka reiterated. I cocked my head slightly to the side. Finally, the situation dawned on my friend. "Oh ... ha ha, you're being mute. Very funny ... ass. Will you answer the damn question, already" "Hey, it was what you asked for," I pointed out, finally breaking my silence. "Answer ... the question," Becka ordered sternly. Snickering, I nodded in affirmation. "Yes, I was being serious. Straight stays straight here. If you liked girls before, you like boys now, as you probably should have noticed, since you've been surrounded by bikini-clad beauties all afternoon, but the only body you've been looking at is your own, and that's mostly been with resentment." That argument got the other girl glancing about, taking in our surroundings. The swimming pool we were at was one of the more mature areas of the park, so there were plenty of other teens and young women about. Many were attractive. Nearly all of the ones who were wore bikinis that were at least somewhat daring. It should have been more than enough to get any young man's blood pumping, but mine certainly wasn't. Not that I had no interest at all, or couldn't tell which ones were pretty. It was just that I only really cared about how they'd accentuated their looks, from their choice in suits to how they did their hair and all the rest. Judging from the scowl that was slowly taking over Becka's face, I imagined her thoughts on the bevy of beauties was pretty similar. Pretty ladies just weren't our thing at the moment. "As if this place needed to be any creepier," Becka muttered after a few moments of silence. "Eh, it's not really any bigger a deal than anything else, and it goes away just as easily," I assured the girl, patting her on the back. "So don't worry so much, you'll be jacking off to girl on girl again by this time tomorrow." "I don't-" Becka started to argue. "Don't care," I cut her off as I shoved myself to my feet. "What I do care about is how hungry I am, and the fact that we need to get going if we're gonna have enough time to get ready for that frat party tonight." "Frat party? Wait ... we're still going?!" Becka exclaimed. Grinning, I nodded. "Yeah, of course, I mean, this how we're gonna get in. They never turn away pretty girls." "Uh uh! No way!" Becka denied fervently, popping to her feet to not just shake her head at me, but wave her hands about emphatically. "I am not going somewhere full of drunk, horny college guys looking like this!" "Aw, come on. It'll be fun," I tried. More headshaking answered me. "Nope! Not happening." Rather than argue, I just shrugged, turned around and started off. "Fine, whatever, chicken out if you want. I'm gonna go and have fun, though, which means it's time to get outta here." "I'm not chickening out!" Becka refuted, hurrying to catch up to me. "I just don't think getting groped and ogled by drunk idiots is gonna make for a fun night." Stopping, I turned to face my friend. "Look, you've been to parties before, right? Real ones? With beer and shit?" "Yeah," Becka answered quickly only to add in a murmur, "Once or twice." "Okay, and did you spend the whole time groping and ogling girls?" I asked pointedly. "No ..." Becka answered uncertainly. That earned a knowing look from me. "Right, exactly, so why do you think that's what's gonna happen? Sure, some guys are gonna hit on you, but if you're clear you're not interested and don't let them pressure you into anything, they'll move on to other girls quick enough. Better yet, make it clear to one guy that you are interested, and he'll stay around all night, keeping the rest of them away. Only thing you have to worry about on the groping front is steering away from the really, really drunk ones, 'cause they might actually touch you, although, most of the time its 'cause they're just looking for something to grab onto to keep themselves from falling over." "But I don't want any guys hitting on me," Becka argued. "Then don't come, 'cause that's pretty much unavoidable," I answered with a shrug, turning to start off again. Again, Becka was left to scurry to catch up with me. "Really? You're not gonna try to trick me into going or something?" "What would be the point?" I asked rhetorically. "Parties are for having fun, which you won't have if you don't want to be there. I'm just sad that after all this time, I finally found someone who remembers who they were before only for them to be too afraid of some guy talking to them to appreciate the situation." "Sounds like a guilt trip to me," Becka pointed out. "Take it however you want," I huffed, letting my frustration leak out into my voice. With that, the other girl fell silent, leaving us to pass the rest of the walk back to the locker room in silence. Along the way, I considered apologizing and trying again to work it all out, but every time anger got in the way. Here we were, in the middle of a magical water park that could let us be anyone - well any girl anyway - and all it seemed to turn her into was a little bitch. It wasn't because of her new girl self either. The park's magic provided some basic memories of who we were, and Becka was not some shrinking violet. She knew she looked good and had no trouble flirting with guys. This was definitely Ryan hesitating - stupid fucking Ryan. "Jeez ..." I heard Becka muttered once we were back in the locker room and pulling out our stuff. A glance over showed that she was looking at her changed street clothes, which included such things as wedge sandals and pretty sexy underwear. I didn't bother to try to help her with any of it, though. The training wheels would take care of that. Instead, I grabbed my own stuff. Fortunately, it looked like everything I would need for the party was there, short skirt, low cut top, padded push up bra, some heels of my own. There was even make up in my purse to spare me the trouble of having to go home and do it there if I wanted, although, with Becka not coming I probably wouldn't take advantage of that. It took a bit for the two of us to get ready and leave the locker room, only to then trudge across the parking lot in silence until we reached my car. There, Becka broke the queit once more by gasping, "What? Why are you stopping-?" as I walked over to a pristine, luxury sedan and unlocked the door. "Your car changed too?!" "Yep, I guess my parents didn't think a mustang was an appropriate car for a girl," I remarked with a shrug as I slid into the vehicle. "Still gets me where I'm going, though." "But ..." Becka started to argue, only to instead trail off into a look of very real disappointment. "Hey! It's not your car that changed, so quit moping and get in already!" I barked. Shaking her head in dismay, Becka did as instructed. "Sorry, it's just ... this park ... it's so ... far reaching." "It's magical," I pointed out as I started up the car and pulled out. "Yeah, sure, but like ... normally you expect magic to be like 'Poof! You're a girl now!', not 'Oh by the way the entire world is not only mutable but probably being constantly changed by almost god-like beings'," Becka explained. "I think you may be overestimating how impactful our being girls instead of boys is on the world at large," I countered. "Am I? There's that whole butterfly effect thing to consider," Becka argued. I shrugged. "Whatever, personally, I like the idea that the world isn't so fixed in stone. It means I have more options, more things that I could potentially do or see or even be than most people could ever hope for." "I guess there are upsides," Becka conceded. "A lot of them, certainly more than you've thought of in the, like, five hours you've had since your mind was blown," I noted. That comment earned a chuckle from my friend. "My mind really was fucking blown by this, wasn't it?" "Hard for it to not be," I remarked. "Even I panicked the first time." "What was your first time like?" Becka inquired. "Quite different from yours," I answered. "I was only six. One of the kids in my class invited everyone out for their birthday party, and we came to Bikini Beach. Next thing I knew, I was sobbing, because I'd lost my weewee. Everyone thought I'd always been a girl, though, and none of the other boys remembered being boys. After a bit, the park owner came over to explain things to me, but even after she calmed me down, my mom ended up taking me home and then yelled at me for making things up and causing trouble." "And you're mad at me for not wanting to go to party after you threw a fit like that your first time?" Becka questioned. "Yeah, 'cause you're not a scared little six year old, dipshit," I retorted. "Plus, you had me here to tell you exactly what's going on and what to expect." Nodding, the other girl let her gaze fall to her lap. "Yeah ... " Sighing, I turned my attention back to the road. "So what do you want to eat?" "I don't know," Becka answered distantly. "Okay, guess I can figure it out," I muttered, shifting my thoughts toward what I wanted to eat before the party. Something not too heavy probably. There would be plenty of food and snacks available and I didn't want to feel bloated or tired. Maybe a quick stop at a hamburger place? A couple moments into such thoughts, Becka spoke up again. "Abby?" "Yeah?" I answered. "Do you really think the party will be fun?" Becka asked. Glancing her way briefly, I offered a confident smile. "Of course! As long as you embrace it." "Then, I'll give it a try," my friend answered. "Great!" I declared happily. "The let's just swing through a drive- thru real quick, so we can go get ready." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Alright, this is even more daunting than I thought it'd be," Becka remarked as she got out of my car. The two of us were down the block and partially around the corner from the frat house, but even from there, we could see the stream of party goers rushing into the place - a place that was clearly already jumping. I could hear the dense racket of music and voices from here. "Relax, you're a hot girl right now," I replied as I walked up next to the shorter girl and threw an arm around her shoulder. "All ya gotta do is keep showing off those tits of yours, and we'll get in without a problem." "It's not getting in that I'm worried about," Becka retorted, glancing down at her chest uneasily. It was currently mostly bared in a low tank top, creating cleavage more impressive than mine, even with my padded bra. "It's what these things are going to bring to me after that." "Don't worry about that," I dismissed, using my arm to push my friend forward a little before I released her and started off toward the house. "We'll get some beer in ya to settle your nerves, and then it'll be fine, especially if you just do what I told you and find a guy you like to talk to all night. That'll keep any annoyances away." "A guy I like ... right ..." Becka muttered as she followed after me, clearly not thinking she would ever find such a person. Glancing back over my shoulder, I smirked at the girl. "Remember, you like boys right now, so if you stay out of your own fucking way, you won't have any trouble finding someone who's at least tolerable." "You're just making it creepier," my friend shot back. Laughing, I turned forward again while calling out, "Just try to have fun." Of course, my saying that didn't just make it so. The whole way to the house, Becka trailed behind me as if she hoped to hide in my shadow. That didn't stop the two guys on the porch that seemed to be the party's 'bouncers' from giving her a good look over after their eyes got done with me. In spite of our age and her obvious nervousness, they didn't seem to pick up on the fact that we weren't eighteen, or just didn't care. One of the upsides of sexy clothes, and, in Becka's case big boobs, was that guys tended to get pretty distracted by them, making it easy for us to do whatever we wanted. Inside the house, things got much noisier as too loud music and too many people fought for the honor of making the most racket. The main party rooms, the living room and kitchen were already quite crowded with lots of older guys and girls who mostly stood around talking with plastic cups in their hands. Those cups reminded me of my first mission. Walking up to a couple of guys who were chatting by themselves, I topped one on the shoulder. "Hey! Where's the beer?!" At first, the guy seemed annoyed at being bothered, but when he turned and saw me, that look vanished from his face. In its place was a big, dumb, ingratiating smile as he yelled, "It's uhh ... I'll go get you one!" He even started to move by me to go do exactly that, but I caught him before he could slip past. "Nah! That's alright, handsome! I like to get my own drinks!" I shouted back. "Oh ..." the young man mumbled, too quietly for me to actually hear it over the noise, but I could see it in the way he slouched and sighed. He knew that meant I wasn't interested. Still, he was nice enough to lift a hand and point the way. "In the kitchen!" "Thanks, sweetie!" I chirped brightly, offering the guy a warm smile I hoped would take some of the sting out of my lack of interest. Another night, I might have paid back the help by coming back and chatted him up to see if there was anything worth pursuing there, but that night, I had bigger worries, namely Becka having a good time. Information gained, I turned to grab my friend's wrist, offering a quick, "Come on!" before pulling her through the crowd toward the kitchen. Things were pretty crowded in there as well, but there were multiple kegs waiting inside, allowing me to go right up to one. Grabbing an empty cup, I filled it up and offered it to my friend with a cheerful, "Here ya go, one dose of liquid courage as promised," said close and quiet enough so that only she would hear me. "Thanks," the other girl answered with obvious relief right before tilting her head back and taking a deep chug of the beer. As she came out of it, she coughed a couple of times to show her inexperience, but looked a little more relaxed, too. "No problem," I replied, smirking at my friend's mild trouble. "So where do you wanna hang, living room or see what's going on out back?" "Out back. It's probably quieter," Becka answered. "Out back it is," I agreed, turning to go. Before I could get a step, Becka caught me with a hand on my arm. "Wait! Aren't you gonna get a drink, too?" Turning back, I shook my head. "Nah, I gotta drive us home, remember?" "Oh ... so you don't drink at these things?" Becka asked. Grinning mischievously, I tilted my head. "Well ... I didn't say that, although, one tip, don't let guys bring you drinks. I know it's tempting to let someone else do the work, and most are just trying to be sweet, but not everyone's a nice guy." "How many of these things have you been to?" my friend inquired. "A topic for another night," I answered evasively, turning to leave again before shouting, "Tonight! We party!" That declaration got the whole crowd around me to belt out a random mix of, "Yeah!" and "Woo!" *********************************************** *********************************************** As the party continued to rage, a smile curled my lips. Becka was finally enjoying herself or at least, she seemed to be as I watched her chatting up a guy. It was hard to imagine that the flirtatious way she laughed and touched the young man's arm was anything but that. While things seemed to be going well so far, they had taken some effort to get there, and I wasn't just thinking about how hard it had been to get the girl to even come to the party in the first place. Beyond that, it had taken, not one, but two beers to loosen her up enough to not just outright refuse any guy that came up to her. After that, it still took a couple of tries, and most of a third beer, before she'd settled into her current conversation - a conversation that she was so into that I'd slipped away almost half an hour ago and she still hadn't noticed my absence. Not that I'd gone far, as I could still her see her, but far enough give the two some privacy. "But I've still gotta make it through diffy-Q for that," a male voice, my own version of Becka's companion, prattled on. "Anyway ... what's your major?" "Hmm?" I hummed absently, pulling my attention back to the conversation at the sound of a question. After that, it took a beat for my brain to switch gears to provide an answer. "Oh ... uhm ... journalism. I know I know, it's easy coursework and doesn't have great prospects outta school, but I just always wanted to investigate stuff, and I figure journalist is safer than cop." "True, but I bet you'd make one badass cop," the young man, a junior in engineering, remarked as he let his eyes sweep over my figure. While it was pretty obvious the guy was thinking more sexy halloween costume than kickass patrol lady, I still took it as a compliment, giggling as I waved a hand dismissively. "Aw, that's sweet, but the closest I've been to a fight was when this awesome guy punched out some pervy creepy that was harassing me." Technically, I'd been that guy doing the punching for some other girl, but it made for a good story, and gave the guy some guidance as to what I might be interested in. Sure enough, the young man picked up on the hint, standing up a little straighter and thrusting out his chest. "Well, if any guys at this party are bothering you, just let me know." "Thanks, but the only bothering I've suffered tonight is the good kind," I answered, reaching out to run a hand along the guy's bicep. He wasn't ripped or anything, but it pretty solid arm. Dude was handsome, too. If he kept up the good work ... Suddenly remembering that I wasn't here for personal fun, I glanced back over to check on my friend. As far as I could tell, Becka still seemed to be enjoying herself. She looked pretty sloshed, though. How many beers had I grabbed for her? Five? That number felt about right. It was also a bit much, but it had been several hours, so probably not too ... wait ... how did she still have beer left to take that chug just now? I hadn't gotten her a new one in a while, so she should've run out by this point. Did she let that guy get her more? "Shit ..." I spat in annoyance. "Something wrong?" my guy inquired with concern, although, it was hard to know if that was for me or for his chances. "Yeah, unfortunately," I sighed, turning back to the young man. As I did, I offered him a frustrated, but friendly smile. "Look, you were doing great, and I was totally into this, but I'm sorta babysitting a friend tonight who's not used to these parties, and she needs me, so I'm gonna have to go. Sorry." "Oh ... " the guy mumbled. The obvious disappointment in that word got me to wince. "Sorry," I repeated, leaning in to give the guy a quick peck on his cheek before turning away. "You really were being great!" I called out over my shoulder before I rushed off into the crowd. As I drew closer, I only became more certain that there was a problem. Becka was leaned up against the back wall of the house as if she needed the support to not fall down. Worse, the guy had her sort of pinned there, by standing in front of her while he had one hand rested against the wall behind her. That wasn't to say he was necessarily doing anything wrong. Becka wasn't just drunk, she was clearly into him. There was no hint of resistance from her, but plenty of go signals. The problem was, if I let her make some drunken mistake with this dude, I had my doubts that Ryan and I would still be friends come morning. I hadn't spent the last year searching for someone else that could remember the change just to risk losing that person's friendship so some guy could get his rocks off. The two had to be stopped. "Becka!" I called out as I got close, interrupting as soon as I thought it was feasible to do so. "Abby!" the girl belted back, with inebriated boisterousness. "Where ya been, girl?!" "Bathroom," I answered, as I stepped up alongside my friend's guy. That earned me a sour look from the fellow, but it also served to back him away a step, freeing Becka from the aggressive stance that he'd taken. "Seems like you've been having plenty of fun without me, though." "Yep!" Becka chirped brightly, gesturing toward the guy. "Darren here's been just the best ... the best ... mmm." Trailing off into a purring hum, the girl let her gaze sweep over her fellow's frame, which I had to admit was impressive. In fact, he looked eminently fuckable to me, more than enough so to have a good- Shaking my head, I cleared out such thoughts to refocus on the task. Whether Becka might have fun wasn't the big issue here. How Ryan would take it in the morning was, and unless he was too drunk to remember, my money was on badly. "I can see that, but it's time to get you home," I told the girl. "Awww ... no, no, no, I shtaying," Becka refused, slurring her words a little bit. "Darren'll take me back once we're ... finished. Won't'cha, big guy?" "Of course," Darren answered, grinning at the very clear implication of the girl's words. Chuckling, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I bet he would, but that's not happening. You're coming home with me, right now." "No!" Becky spat, pouting like a child. "You heard her. Becky, here, wants to stay with me, so why don't you just get lost," Darren inserted himself into the argument to protect his investment. "Yeah, you don't want her to stay, 'big guy'," I remarked with a smirk. "'Cause she's sixteen, and if she doesn't leave with me, I'm calling the cops." "Yeah right, bitch!" Darren scoffed dismissively, but the seed had been planted, getting him to glance over his potential conquest. "You're nineteen right?" Too drunk for guile, Becka beamed out a bright smile as she shook her head. "Nope. Sixteen going on seventeen. I know that I'm naive. You are sev-" As she went, her words got progressively lyrical right up until the point a dry heave interrupted her. "See, sixteen, so unless you're looking to try to beat a rape charge, we're gonna be leaving now," I remarked stepping forward to grab the girl and help pull her off the wall. She wobbled considerable without its support, but soon settled into leaning against me as a replacement. "But I wanna stay!" Becka whined, the childish tone only further helping to sell her inappropriate youth. By that point, Darren was ready to give up. He backed off with his hands raised in both surrender and to make it very clear that he wasn't trying to touch the minor. That left me free to take Becka. I struggled a bit under her weight and drunkenness as I guided her through the crowd, but somehow, I managed to get her back to the car and safely buckled up without any nasty spills. By the time I got around the car and into the driver seat, she was already soundly sleeping. "Well somebody's had a big day," I teased my slumbering friend with a smirk as I reached forward to start up the car. "Now, let's get you home." *********************************************** *********************************************** The sound of my phone pulled me from my sleep, forcing me to fight free of soft sheets and a comfy pillow to glare over at the nightstand. There, the heinous device rested, demanding my attention with its noise right next to a clock that declared it well before noon. I did not approve, but I didn't ignore the call either, reaching out to grab the phone before flopping back against the bed. "Y'ello?" I greeted sleepily as I answered. "Abby?" the voice on the other side, Ryan's voice, questioned in surprise. "Yep, hey th-" I started to reply. "Why are you still a girl?" Ryan questioned, words full of suspicion. "You didn't get stuck did you?" Giggling, I shook my head at the boy's paranoia. "No, silly. I didn't get stuck. I just have a different kind of pass." "Different pass?" Ryan repeated in confusion. "Yeah, the park's magic lasts as long as your pass," I explained. "You got a day pass, so you were a girl for the day. My pass is a little different." "Oh ... how long are you stuck like that, then?" Ryan asked, confusion turning to worry. Giggling again, I answered, "I'm not 'stuck'. That implies I didn't have a choice in the matter. I just have my pass set up to last for two days." "Why?" Ryan questioned. "Because, for some reason, the magic is only safe for one transformation a week," I informed him. "I don't know why that is, but I like to spend Friday and Saturday night changed, so that means I need it to last two days." "Really?" my friend mumbled in surprise. "Jeez how often do you change?" "Pretty often," I told him evasively before switching to a more interesting topic. "But enough about me. How're ya feelin' after last night?" A groan leaked out of my phone at the mention of the party. "Queasy. Did I really chat up some college guy, then try to get you to leave me there with him?" "Yep," I confirmed. "He was a really hunky college guy, too, who you would've done a lot more than just talk to if I hadn't pulled you outta there." Another groan answered me. "Thanks for that." "Yeah, I had a feeling you'd feel that way," I replied. "Shame, though, 'cause this guy ... " Rather than finish in words, I just let out a low whistle. "But, you weren't ready for that, yet." "I'm never gonna be ready for that," Ryan assured me. "Really? 'Cause it's not like its bad on the other side, at least, not if you find a guy who knows how to treat you right," I remarked, grinning wickedly. I could practically hear the boy on the other end shuddering at the very idea. "Gross." "Whatever, you just think that 'cause you're Ryan again," I retorted dismissively. "Becka will feel differently." "Yeah, well, there's not gonna be a Becka again," Ryan huffed. "Oh, come on!" I exclaimed. "Was it really that bad? And don't bother trying to say yes, 'cause I was there. I saw you have fun once you got out of your own way." "You saw some guy get me drunk and try to fuck me!" Ryan countered. Rolling my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh. "You only got that drunk, because you didn't listen to me about not letting guys feed you drinks, and besides, drunk had nothing to do with it. I woulda fucked that guy and I was stone sober. The only reason Becka needed beer to do it was, because she had you rattling around in her head." "All the more reason to never change again!" Ryan growled. "Fine! Then don't!" I yelled back. "God! I shoulda just let him fuck you! At least then, maybe, you'd realize it's not a big fucking deal!" "Not a big fucking deal?!" Ryan spat. "He was a guy!" "And you were a girl! A straight one!" I retorted. "It woulda been no fucking different than if Ryan had been the one at that party, trying to fuck some random chick!" Rather than another argument, only silence answered my claim. "Ryan?" I questioned uncertainly. "I'm still here," my friend answered, his voice soft and distant. Suddenly feeling guilty, I winced. "Sorry. I didn't ... this is just kind of a big deal to me." "Why?" Ryan inquired. "What does it matter to you if I want to change again or not?" "I don't know," I mumbled, but I knew that was just dodging the question. I had to offer more than that. "I guess I just ... want to be able to actually share this stuff with someone. I mean ... I've spent almost every weekend for a year straight as a girl, but I've never been able to talk to anyone about what I do. Well ... sometimes, Anya listens to my stories down at the park, but I think she just feels sorry for me, and she's certainly not actually going through them with me." "Wait, every weekend for a year straight?" Ryan double-checked. "But we just hung out a few saturdays ago." Humming, I tilted my head uncertainly. "Mmm, well ... I did invite you to hang out that weekend, but I actually went to the park, changed, and picked up a guy at Shell Game who I went to the movies with the next day. After I changed back, you remembered us hanging out." "Unbelievable ..." Ryan muttered. "Have we ever actually hung out together at all?" "Yes! Of course!" I insisted emphatically. "That's why we mostly do stuff during the week, and one weekend, I even hung out with you as a girl to see what that might be like." "Okay, that's super wierd," Ryan remarked. Unsure how to answer, I offered a weak, "Sorry?" "No, it's the park that's ..." Ryan tried to explain. "I mean, can we even share this? Won't I just forget when you turn back." "I didn't forget when you did," I pointed out. "Oh ... right ..." Ryan mumbled. "Why is that?" I shrugged helplessly. "Not really sure about the specifics, but Anya told me that if I found someone who could remember and we went through it together, we'd be able to remember each other after that. Maybe she tweaked the magic a bit for me, I don't know." "Alright, so, from now on, I'll remember what really happens while you're switched?" Ryan ascertained. "Yeah, I think so, anyway," I confirmed. "And you're planning to keep changing every weekend?" Ryan guessed. "Well, it may not always be weekends, but yes, I'll probably spend a couple of days like this every week," I answered. A quiet murmur of, "I see," answered me. Worry crept into me at those words. They represented the second moment of truth in the whole affair. Now that he knew all the details, what would Ryan do with them? He hadn't seemed happy about the whole thing, and repeatedly commented on how creepy he thought the park was. Was I then creepy, too, by extension? I didn't know, and my friend wasn't speaking, letting moment after thought-bloated moment tick by. "I understand if you don't want to hang out anymore," I forced myself to say, even though, the words felt like death. It had taken so long to find Ryan. If the next person took as long, I'd be leaving for college by the time I located them. There wouldn't even be a point then. "Maybe Anya can even help you forget all about this, so-" "No!" Ryan blurted. "I don't want any magical mind wipes or any other thought manipulation. I'm just ... processing." "Ah ..." I mumbled. After that, we both fell back into silence, but it wasn't so long and ponderous as the first. It was just a moment before Ryan said, "I guess my answer is that I don't know what to expect. I mean, you may have hung out with me as Abby before, but I don't remember it, so until I experience it for myself, I can't make an informed decision." "Really?" I remarked incredulously, before that answer really hit me. When it did, I was much more exuberant. "Great! We can hang out next weekend! There's another party, probably an even bigger one than last night, and I'll go as your date!" "Wait?! Date?!" Ryan blurted in surprise. "Yeah, obviously, I mean ... a guy and a girl going to a party together, it pretty much has to be a date. Right?" I explained. "B-But I ... and you're ... and ..." Ryan stammered. That bumbling earned a giggle from me. "Relax, dude, we don't gotta do anything you don't want. I'm just saying it that way, because that's how people are gonna see it." "Oh ... okay," my friend muttered in relief. "Yeah ... that'll be fine ... I guess." "Awesome," I declared. "I'll swing by the park to change then come pick you up." There was some hesitance in his voice as he said it, but Ryan managed to get out, "Okay, just text me or something so I can get ready." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Oh, thank god, you're back to normal," Ryan breathed with profound relief as I walked up to the table he was sitting at before school started. "Yeah, I told you it was just for an extra day," I answered, plunking down in one of the empty seats. "I know, it's just ... that park ..." Rather than finish, Ryan trailed off into a shake of his head. "Anyway, it's nice to see everything back to normal." Chuckling, I shrugged off my friend's worry. "Whatever, as long as you're not freakin' out, man, 'cause school ain't the place for that" "Yeah ..." Ryan mumbled, glancing around at his surroundings nervously. When he turned his attention back to me, he leaned in conspiratorially and spoke in more hushed tones. "So ... I've been wondering. Why do you do it?" "Do what?" I asked, even though, it was pretty easy to guess what was meant. "Y'know, uhm ... keep going to the park," Ryan clarified. "What's it about being ... that way that keeps bringing you back. Are you like one of those ... " Taking a moment, he bobbed his hands around like an unsteady scale. "Uncertain people." Blasting out a hearty laugh, I shook my head. "Nah, man. Why? Did you think I wanted to find some guy, settle down, and pop out a few babies or something?" "No!" Ryan denied too forcefully, making it pretty clear that he'd at least wondered about that sort of scenario being my reason. Still laughing, I shook my head again. "Nah, girls got a lot of shit they have to deal with like periods, and pregnancy, and random creeps hitting on them, and constantly having to watch what they eat and wear, and all sorts of stuff. This way, I skip all of that and get to the fun parts." "Alright, and what are those fun parts?" Ryan inquired. "Oh come on, like you've never thought about how easy hot chicks seem to have it?" I remarked incredulously. "All they gotta do is look good, and they get into all the parties, people buy them drinks and presents, and when they want a date, they basically just have to snap their fingers to find one." "Except it's a date with a guy," Ryan pointed out. A shrug and a dismissive hand wave chased that argument away. "You've experienced first hand how little that matters at the time." Being reminding of the events of the party had Ryan's face twisting with obvious queasiness. "Uck, don't remind me." "It's not that hard to get over after either," I told him. "Trust me, I know." "And that I really don't want to know about," my friend added emphatically. "Fair enough, let's talk girls instead," I replied. "Which did you think was cuter, Becka or Abby?" It was hard to say if it was the suddenness of the change or the topic that I'd changed to, but Ryan's expressed turned to wide-eyed bewilderment. "Wha? Uh ... " he stammered out before smacking a hand against his forehead and shaking his head. "I don't know." "Oh, come on, you gotta have a preference. Tall and lean or short and curvy?" I pressured, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "Or is your type something different, statuesque? Ultra petite?" "None of your business," Ryan slipped into the list. That remark earned a snicker from me. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." "And which preference would you be telling me, being or dating?" Ryan questioned. I shrugged. "Whichever you want. Just tell me, already." "Well, I don't wanna know either, so no," my friend refused. "Bah!" I huffed. "You don't wanna know anything. You might as well just bury your head in the ground like an ostrich." "I'm still not telling you," Ryan reiterated firmly. "Fine, whatever," I muttered through my frustration. "I do have one thing I'm sure you'll want to know about." Ryan screwed his face up doubtfully. "Oh, what's that?" "That, now that everything's back to normal, I got my old car again, so if you want to skip out on a shitty bus ride home, meet out by it after school and I'll let you drive it on your way home," I told him. "Oh ... really?" Ryan mumbled in surprise, before narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "This ride doesn't come with a price tag does it?" Laughing, I shook my head. "Nope, just being nice." "Ah, well then, cool, thanks," Ryan offered gratefully. I answered with a smile, "No problem." *********************************************** *********************************************** "You sure you don't want to ride with?" I asked, holding up my keys. "It'll save us some time, and I'll even let ya drive." Not even the lure of a fun car could budge Ryan. He just shook his head sharply. "Nope." "The park's not gonna like leap out and bite you to infect you with some werewoman disease, you know?" I remarked. "Don't care," Ryan answered. "I don't wanna go anywhere near it. Hell, even you going there is almost too weird." That concern had me rolling my eyes. "Well, that's just ridiculous." "Yeah, maybe, and I'm not saying I'm gonna be terrified of it forever, but the whole magic's real and can mess with my mind is gonna take some getting used to," my friend explained. "Y'know, if they really wanted to mess with your mind, the first thing they'd do is make it so you weren't suspicious of them," I pointed out. Turning his head toward me, Ryan offered a look that was equal parts incredulous and terrified. "Why would you tell me that? Now, I'm just more afraid." "Sorry, I was trying to help," I apologized. "Well, you didn't!" my friend exclaimed, shaking his head. "I'm not worried about whether or not they're benevolent. I'm worried about what they could do to me if I piss them off." "And how exactly are you gonna piss them off?" I questioned. "I don't know!" Ryan blurted. "What if, like, Anya catches me staring at her chest or I make some sexually insensitive joke or make a move on some girl on a date and she doesn't like it." Such absurd situations had me snorting out a laugh. "That's not how they work, dude. They can actually look into your memories and intentions to prove you didn't mean any harm. If anything, you should be less scared of them than the cops." "Yeah, except that means they can also see what I want to do," Ryan argued. "Well, unless you want to assault some girl and fuck her against her will, I think you're gonna be fine, and if you do, I don't wanna be your friend," I countered. "I certainly don't want to be hanging out with you tonight after I change." "That's not ... of course, I don't want to do shit like that!" Ryan clarified. "It's just ..." "Look, you've already been there. Right?" I tried a different tactic. "So that means, you've already passed whatever bullshit scan you think they perform on you. You're free and clear." "Maybe, but ..." Ryan started to relent before he stopped and turned toward me. As he did, there was a pleading look in his eyes. "Can I please just ease myself into the crazy rather than take the cannonball route?" In the face of that question, my own resolved crumpled, leaving me to shrug. "Fine, whatever. Just make sure to get ready, 'cause I'm gonna swing by your place once I'm done at the park." "Sure thing," Ryan agreed. "See ya, man." "See ya," I replied. With that, we separated, Ryan off to catch his bus while I went toward my car. Knowing I had the shorter journey of the two, I made no effort to hurry, strolling along easily as I waved to people I knew, and even chatted briefly with a couple. Eventually, I got to my car, but even then, I just flopped back in the seat to take a moment. My friend's unwarranted paranoia was just so frustrating that it had leached away my enthusiasm for the night ahead. "Best thing I can do is just make tonight awesome," I told myself. "That'll be easy, anyway. I mean ... it's not just a college party, but an end of the year one. It's gonna be epic." Feeling myself start to recharge, I nodded firmly and started the car. The following drive I spent thinking about the details of the evening, mulling over how to not just make Ryan have fun, but to show him how much fun I was having. That would help ease his concerns about both being a girl and the park's magic. I had a pretty good idea of how to go about all of that by the time I got to the park. Late afternoon on a Friday, the lot was mostly empty, allowing me to pull up close. That left a pretty short walk before I reached the counter. "And he returns once more," Anya remarked as I approached. "As persistent as ever." "And that's finally starting to pay off," I replied with confidence, only to end up undercutting that with an uncertain, "Right?" Anya smiled mysteriously. "Ah ah, no foresight help. Remember?" Rolling my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I've got some other stuff you can help me with, though." Still smiling, the woman took a moment to just look at me, and I swore I could almost feel her rummaging inside my head. "Alright, that's all doable. Go on in." "Thanks, Anya," I replied gratefully, turning toward the gates to get ready for the night ahead. *********************************************** *********************************************** Bing bong! The chime of the doorbell echoed out as I let my finger fall away from the button. After that, my attention quickly turned downward to adjust my outfit until it was just right. Once it was, my gaze shot right back up to the door, just in time to here the sound of someone on the other side working the lock. "Hey Ab-" Ryan started to greet as he pulled open the door only for his words to die on his lips at the sight of me. Then, there was just a wide-eyed silence from him. Of course, I didn't leave him hanging like that, jumping into to fill the void. "Heya, think fast," I greeted, tossing the keys I held in one hand toward the guy. Shocked as he was, Ryan was a moment too slow to react, lurching into motion just before the keys thumped against his chest. He tried to get them on the rebound, but with his eyes glued to me, his fingers weren't quite deft enough. After a bouncing off his grip, the keys clattered to the ground. "Nice hands," I mocked the dropped catch. For his part, my friend didn't even seem to notice, asking, "Wha? Why do you look like that?" "Oh? Do you like?" I inquired rhetorically, adopting a wicked smirk even as I slid a hand down along my waist and over one well-rounded hip. "After you kept teasing me about my lack of curves last weekend, I just had to try some out for myself," I explained before using my other hand to swipe a rich curtain of shimmering black hair back over my shoulder. "Of course, I made a few other changes too as I'm sure you've noticed." "I didn't ... why would ... " Ryan stammered before finally, his brain caught up, leaving him shaking his head even as he rubbed at it with one hand. "Ugh ... nevermind ..." "Aw, don't feel down, tiger," I purred, stepping closer to peer up at the boy. "Even if I'm not your type, I'm sure all the other guys at the party will be madly jealous of you." "It's not ... I was just ... surprised ..." Ryan answered. That last word sort of trailed off as his gaze gained a sharp focus - one that was not aimed at my face. Glancing down at my chest, I remarked. "A lot more impressive than the ones I had last time, aren't they?" My assets were indeed a lot more impressive than the previous weekend, and not just the ones we were both currently looking at. Yes, my chest was quite large and shown off by a very low neckline. However, that dress also clung to rather broad hips and a decidedly full rear, along with the trim waist that connected T with A. It was all packed onto a shapely frame that was half a foot shorter than my last one. Combined with the midnight black hair, emerald-green eyes, and tan, and I was quite the little sexpot this time around. "Huh?" Ryan mumbled, proving that he had in fact been staring. A moment too late, he jerked his gaze away and spat out, "What are you even talking about?" as if he could cover it up now. Giggling, I reached up to pat the poor fool on the cheek. "Aw, aren't you cute." Huffing, Ryan jerked his head to the side, but that couldn't hide the rosiness that was infiltrating his face. "Whatever. Are we going or not?" "Oh, we're going but - someone - dropped the keys," I remarked, pointing down at the porch floor. "Unless you don't wanna drive. I can instead, but I did have Anya make sure I kept the mustang this time just for you." "Nah, I'll drive," Ryan answered, bending over to scoop up the keys. "Might as well get something outta all this crazy after all." "Play your cards right, and you can get a lot more than that," I remarked with a wink. "And we're moving right past that," Ryan mumbled, shaking his head as he just marched right by me toward the car. "Wow. Cold," I commented, but I wasn't really bothered. With a smile on my face, I followed right after my friend. Getting into the car at the same time, Ryan started up the car and got us moving. "So where exactly are we going anyway?" "Well, we've got some time until the party, so I thought we'd grab a sandwich first," I told him. "Y'know, fuel up for the night ahead." "Alright," Ryan answered gruffly before focusing fully on the road ahead. After that, the only sounds in the car were those from the road and the music on the radio. Neither held my attention, though. Instead, I focused on my 'date', looking him over uncertainly. That uncertainty wasn't because of any issues I had with Ryan. No, quite to the contrary, one of the details that I'd had Anya tweak for this change was to make sure that I wasn't just attracted to boys, but to him specifically. As such, even though, Ryan was usually a fairly mundane looking teen, I found myself decidedly interested. The problem was that, if my friend knew about that, he'd probably be very unhappy about it. While it was pretty obvious that Ryan was ... uncomfortable with the situation, it was less obvious to me as to why. Was it just the park and magic that made it weird for him? Was it the fact that the rest of the week I was a guy? Was it something else? It was hard to say. The first would probably be overcome with time. Maybe even the second one could. The vast potential unknowns, though ... Whatever the reason, even the more solvable ones, it was still worrisome. After all, I spent a good chunk of every week like this, and having the one person I could share that with find it creepy was a problem. Maybe I was just coming on too strong? I could back off on the flirting stuff. It wasn't like I was desperate for a relationship with him or something, anyway. I was just so used to acting like that around guys when I was like this. Yeah, probably best to stick to a more friendly attitude. "So ... uhm ... finals next week," I began awkwardly. "Feeling ready for them?" "Yeah," Ryan confirmed. "You?" "Of course," I responded confidently. "I have a near perfect academic record to protect, after all." "Wait ... really?" Ryan questioned, briefly glancing toward me. I grinned smugly. "Yeah, why? Did you think I was just some idiot party girl?" "No, it's just ... I've never even heard of you putting effort into anything school related," Ryan explained. Shrugging, I countered with, "My mom runs a hospital, and my dad was an economic genius, at least until he cashed out and went off the deep end. As you might imagine, doing well in school doesn't really take much effort for me." "Does anything take much effort for you?" Ryan inquired. "No," I answered, not arrogantly but just truthfully. Good genes and rich parents had done a solid job of mitigating any difficulties a small town like this one could have possibly presented to me. "That's not to say I'm good at everything. You notice that Andy isn't on any sports teams, even though, he's in great shape, if I do say so myself." "Yeah, you and every girl in our school," Ryan muttered with a roll of his eyes. "But why is that? I mean, even if you're a total klutz, which I doubt, you seem to be a pretty strong swimmer, so you could always join the swim team." "You're right, I'm not a klutz, I'm just not good," I answered. "Even swimming would take a lot of effort for me to actually compete." "So you're just lazy," Ryan remarked. "That's your only weakness?" "No, I'd put forth the effort if I cared, just like I did to find a friend who could remember what happens at the park," I argued. "Swimming's just a hobby for me. That's all." "Great, so no weaknesses at all then," my friend concluded. "You're obnoxiously perfect." "Well, I didn't say that," I replied with a smirk. "I just don't have any weaknesses I'm willing to tell you." "Ah, so there is Abby kryptonite out there somewhere?" Ryan mused. "Is it actual kryptonite? You're not exactly blonde enough to be supergirl, but you were last week." Giggling, I shook my head. "First of all, I was bottle blonde last week, remember, and secondly, no, I'm not kryptonian." "Is it yellow?" Ryan tried. "Not a green lantern either," I answered. "But you seem to be a comic book nerd," Ryan pointed out. I rolled my eyes. "You don't need to be a comic book nerd to know the two most iconic weaknesses in human history. It would be like saying you needed to be an expert in mythology to know how hubris brought down Icarus or greed was the undoing of Midas." "I don't know ..." Ryan commented with exaggerated uncertainty. "You're good at school. You know comic stuff and apparently mythology, too. Maybe you're like secretly a giant nerd." "Oh no, you got me," I deadpanned. "My secret life has been unveiled." Chuckling, Ryan shook his head. "Nah, I think the fact you spend two days a week as a girl constitutes your secret life." "Well, that's been unveiled, too," I pointed out. My friend mumbled, "I suppose it has." *********************************************** *********************************************** "It's so cute that you're upset that guy at the counter was checking me out," I remarked as the car pulled to a stop a couple blocks from the party. "First of all, he didn't just check you out. He spent the whole time we were there leering at you like a starving wolf eyeing a pile of meat," Ryan corrected as he shoved open his door and got out. "And even that would've been fine, except he kept trying to flirt with you. I mean, I was right there, obviously your date." Giggling, I slid out of the car. "Oh, so I am your date, after all. I thought you didn't like that idea." "I don't, but what I really don't like is being ignored and having our meal constantly interrupted 'cause of some asshole!" Ryan protested. "Besides, he didn't know what the situation was. All he could do was look and see we were together." With a grin on my lips, I gave a little shrug and slid a hand over my hip. "Guess he just thought I was too far outta your league." That comment earned me an indignant scoff. "Please, that's all just a magical facade." "Psh, even Andy is outta your league," I shot back. "And thank god for that," Ryan answered with exaggerated relief. "That's not a league I wanna be in." "I prefer the hetero-arena as well," I remarked even as I swept my gaze over the boy suggestively. Instantly, Ryan stiffened in discomfort and uncertainty. "Right ... uhm ... we should probably get to this party already." My natural urge was to tease further, but I reeled it back in. Instead, I turned to start off, "Yeah, let's go." A couple seconds later, Ryan and I were walking side-by-side at a decidedly chaste, nearly unfriendly, distance from one another. That was my own fault, though. Clearly, I should have gone for a more reserved look and attitude tonight. Nothing to be done about that now, of course, except make the most of it. As with the previous weekend, this week's party was at a frat house and loud enough to be obvious from blocks away. The closer Ryan and I got, the louder and more raucous the celebration got. The end of the school year tended to do that. However, there was one other difference from last time. "Nope! Turn around!" one of the guys lounging about on the front porch as a 'bouncer' declared as Ryan and I came up the steps. Shaking his head, he popped out of his seat and gave us a shooing gesture. "Get lost kids!" "What?!" I blurted in very real surprise before realizing I needed to offer more than that. "I'm not a kid!" "Oh yeah? Then what are you doing with Dorky McHighschool over there?" the guy questioned, pointing toward Ryan. "What are you, dude, like sixteen?" "N-No, I'm eighteen," my friend tried to lie, but like me, he just wasn't prepared enough to make it convincing. The standing bouncer and his buddies all laugh at that, but it was the former that responded, "Yeah, right, kid. Just get lost already, before we call your moms." "Or maybe your babysitters!" another one of the guys called out, garnering laughs from his friends. "Assholes! We're not-!" I started to argue, but Ryan's hand grabbing my arm cut me off. "Come on. Let's go," my friend hissed into my ear, putting just enough force into his grip to pull me back toward the steps. In that moment, I almost just jerked away to keep fighting, but Ryan's surrender made me realize it wasn't an argument I could win. That realization calmed my anger, getting me to offer the three college students a dismissive head twist. "Hmph! Fine! But just remember, you coulda had a piece of this!" I added, running a hand along my hip. "Yeah and a piece of jail time to go with it!" one of the guys remarked. "No thanks!" Glaring at the trio, I let Ryan guide me back down the stairs and across the yard. It wasn't until we reached the sidewalk that I finally shifted my gaze. At the same time, I also huffed, "I can walk on my own! Jesus!" and yanked my arm free of Ryan's grasp. "Sorry," Ryan apologized, holding his now empty hands up in concession. Growling in wordless aggravation, I spun and marched back toward the car. Every step I took was punctuated not just by my heels on the pavement, but by curses in my head about the fucking assholes behind me. What the hell were they thinking? My current self was just about the hottest form that I'd ever taken. Sure, I'd been with Ryan, but they shouldn't have even noticed him with me around. But no! They'd had to ruin everything by pretending they were actually responsible and shit. Fuck that! This weekend was fucking important, damn it, and those fucking shitbags had to go and- "So, what do we do now?" Ryan asked. "Hmm?" I hummed, looking up from my stewing. "I mean, we're at the car. I need to know where to drive us," Ryan pointed out, even as he gestured to the vehicle in question which was only a few more feet in front of us. "Oh ... I don't know ..." I mumbled, shaking my head. "I don't know what was with those assholes, either. I've never gotten turned away like that, not even from clubs that actually ID people." Rather than be angry like I was, Ryan actually chuckled at that. "Guess there are limits to even a hot chick's powers. Just sad to know to that it's measured in how lame I am." "You're not lame!" I denied emphatically. "Those guys are just dicks. Maybe psychic dicks, but still dicks." Again, Ryan chuckled. "Sure, but even if they've got mind-reading genitalia, that doesn't help me know what we're doing instead." "Yeah ..." I sighed, wracking my brain for a good answer. Maybe there was a highschool party we could go to instead? Most versions of Abby I'd been had plenty of popular friends, so if I called around- "Plus, to be honest, after last week, I'm kinda partied out," Ryan remarked. "Only really said yes for the booze." An idea popping into my head, I looked up to smirk at Ryan. "Well, there's plenty of booze at my place, and it's much nicer shit than some bargain basement kegger beer." "Really? Won't your parents ..." my friend began only to immediately correct himself. "What am I even saying? Of course, your parents would have a bunch of booze around and not care if you drink it, 'cause you live some kind of fantasy life where you get whatever the fuck what." "Hey, look on the bright side. As my friend, you get to share in all that," I pointed out. "So ... you wanna come over and take advantage or not?" Ryan cocked his head to one side. "Sure. Why not?" *********************************************** *********************************************** "God, I can never get over how huge this place is," Ryan mumbled as he entered my home. "Yeah, it can get pretty annoying at times," I remarked as I slipped by him. "Has its upsides, too, though." "I bet ..." Ryan murmured absently. "Yeah, anyway ..." I segued, spinning about to face my friend. "Wanna go up to my rooms or head downstairs?" Use of the plural there earned a snicker from Ryan. "Rooms ... right ... what's the difference? I seem to remember you having pretty much everything upstairs." "Everything except for a fully stocked bar and a theater," I answered. "And by that I mean like a real theater, with a wall-sized screen and a projector and shit." "Wait ... seriously?" Ryan questioned in surprise. "Yeah," I confirmed. "Well, we have to go down there, then," Ryan told me. "I've never been in a private theater before." Shrugging disinterestedly, I spun to lead the way with a simple, "Alright." After that, the walk through the first floor passed in near complete silence. Ryan was busy gawking at all the rooms and fancy objects. I was focused on trying to think of what would make for the best evening, now that my original plans had been ruined. It just wasn't an atmosphere for conversation. "And welcome to Harper Entertainment!" I declared with a grand sweep of my arm as I stepped off the stairs and into the basement theater area. "Please have your tickets ready at the door, then find a seat of your choosing, and enjoy the show!" That earned a chuckle from Ryan right up until he came out behind me, and saw the actual theater. Then, his mirth faded into a look of disappointment. "Kinda small, ain't it?" While, yes, it was a true theater set up, Ryan was correct in saying it was small. There were only ten seats in the area, albeit much larger and more comfortable ones than you'd find at a real theater, which were arrange in two tiered rows. The screen did take up a whole wall, too, but it wasn't the grand multi-story wall of a major theater. It was of the more normal-sized variety. "Well, it's family sized," I answered with a smirk, turning not toward the seating but the bar. "What do you want to drink?" "What do you have?" Ryan asked while wondering over to the chairs. "Everything," I answered simply. Stopping, Ryan glanced my way with an eyebrow raised. "Everything?" "Pretty much," I confirmed. "There's wine, multiple types of red, white, and even a few ros?s, vodka, scotch, brandy, tequila, whiskey, tonic water, limes, a blender, ice, I think there's even some fruit and vegetable juices in the fridge." "Jesus ..." my friend breathed. "I'm told I make a good margarita," I offered by way of a suggestion. "Then a margarita it is," Ryan agreed, turning back to the theater. "But first, mind telling me how this thing works?" "Remote should be in one of the front seats," I answered, pausing my work to walk over to the side of the room where the last piece of electronics, a computer sat and started it up. "Just press the power button at the top to turn everything on, then grab the keyboard, so you can figure out what you want to watch. There's a big folder 'labeled movies' on the desktop." "Got it," Ryan replied, doing exactly that. While my friend decided what he wanted to watch, I returned to the bar to finish preparing drinks. Luckily, margaritas were a pretty simple concoction, at least non-frozen ones, so that was easily resolved. After that, I poured out a couple of glasses and started over to Ryan. "Find anything interesting?" I asked as I slipped into the seat next to my friend and offered him his drink. "Yeah ... unless now that you're a girl you've got something against action movies," Ryan answered, taking his glass. "Nope. Action's fine," I told him. "Good," Ryan replied as he tipped his glass up to take a drink. However, I could tell the moment that the tequila-heavy drink hit his throat, because he nearly choked on it. Giggling, I took a sip of my own without any such issues. "Not so good with alcohol, are ya?" Forcibly swallowing his gulp, Ryan's eyes watered a bit as croaked. "I think it's more impressive that you are." "Well, that's really more my dad's fault," I explained, taking another drink. "When he first got outta the business, he kept himself mostly to liquor, but he didn't have a bartender. He ended up getting me to make him his drinks, then he started having me make one for myself, and well ... the first steps of alcoholism were behind me." "Seriously?" Ryan questioned incredulously. Laughing, I shook shrugged. "Yes, that really happened, but no, I'm not an alcoholic. Actually, for all the free booze I have access to, I really don't drink much at all. Occasionally, I have a shot after a rough day, but that's about it. I don't even really drink at parties, for reasons like the one you went through last weekend. If I'm gonna do something dumb, I want to be aware of it. Plus, I've mostly been on my own at those things until now." "Well, you've still got years of experience on me," Ryan answered, trying another, small and very tentative sip of his drink. This he handled much better. "I'd never had more than a sip of some adults beer until last fall." "That 'cause your parents are real strict or were you just too lame to get invited to a real party until then?" I half-asked half-mocked. Letting out a little chuck, Ryan tilted his head back and forth. "Little bit of A. Little bit of B." "Damn, your parents are cheap and hard on you?" I surmised. "Must be rough." "Yeah, like you would know, Miss has her own bar and theater," Ryan remarked. "Well, technically, they're my dad's, although, I do have my own entertainment room," I corrected. "I remember," Ryan answered before glancing around with worry. "Speaking of your parents, they aren't gonna like walk in here and catch us drinking are they?" "Nah, my mom's out of town at some conference, and even if my dad did come in here, he wouldn't care," I answered, adding in a mumble, "Assuming he wasn't too wasted to even notice." "Ahh ..." Ryan breathed. Shrugging, I leapt to change the subject. "Anyway ... let's get this show started, already." "Oh ... right ... " Ryan mumbled as he scrambled to grab the keyboard. A few moments later, the movie had begun. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Ah, good, time for another drink," Ryan mumbled when the credits started to play, sounding a bit drowsy as he did. However, it was pretty clear that it was not drowsiness, but drunkenness that affected him when, a moment later, he tried to get up, only to get about halfway out of his chair before a hand slipped and dropped him right back into the seat. Such bumbling earned a giggle from me. "Need some help?" "No! I've got it!" Ryan huffed defiantly, as he tried again. This time, he go to his feet, but they were decidedly unsteady, causing him to sway so far to one side he had to actually hurriedly stumble a step that way to stop himself from falling. "You sure about that?" I inquired, still laughing at the situation. "'Cause you look pretty wasted." "Bah! I'm not ..." Ryan started to deny only to have to pause to settle his stomach. "... wasted," he continued on right after that, as if nothing was wrong, spinning about wildly to march over toward the bar. Shaking my head, I reached across the seat my friend had vacated to grab the keyboard that rested in the chair beyond. Using that, I stopped the current film and started looking for a second one to watch. Obviously, Ryan was too drunk to accomplish such a task, anymore. "What?! Empty!" Ryan bellowed furiously. Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw the boy holding up the blender's glass container which was definitely empty. That came as something of a surprise to me. It was a really large blender, so there should have been plenty left. After all, I'd nursed my own drink through the whole movie. Yes, I'd seen Ryan get up a couple times during, but still ... "Where's the stuff to make more?!" Ryan demanded, casting about behind the bar directionalessly. "Uhm ... maybe you should switch to soda or -" I started to caution. "Where?!" Ryan belted out. Sighing, I slid out of my seat to start in the direction. "Alright, alright, I'll make more, just go sit down before you hurt yourself." Offering a drunken grunt in assent, my friend started to follow orders until his first step had him wobbling so badly he ended up stumbling again. The bar was there this time to make it easy for him to catch himself, but it seemed to disorient his thoughts enough to make him forget what he'd been doing. Instead of returning to his seat, he just clung to the bar, staring off into space. "Fuck, you're bad with booze," I mumbled under my breath, making sure it was too quiet for the boy to overhear lest he get mad over it. I also resolved to make the next batch really light on tequila, to the point where it would basically just be juice. That and a little time would help sober him up some. Sliding by my drunk friend, I got behind the bar and went about gathering the items I would need again. Once I had all the bottles and straightened up to start mixing, though, I was met with something ... well, I was unsure of what sort of reaction it warranted. Rather than stay clinging to the bar or return to his seat, Ryan had turned to follow my movements. Now he stood there, under his own support, just sort of staring at me. "Y'know, watching me isn't gonna get this made any quicker, so you should just-" I started to say. "You're pretty," Ryan interjected, drunkenly blunt yet hazy at the same time. "Like, really, really, really, really, really ... really pretty." Laughing helplessly, I shook my head. "Okay, now I know you're really drunk, so I gonna get you a coke instead." As I started to turn to get to work on exactly that, Ryan's stepped forward. Wondering what he was up to now, I stopped to twist back. That got me right into position for one of the boy's hands to rest on my shoulder while the other reached up to my chin. Suddenly, he was tipping my head back and his lips were closing in. A little buzzed myself, I didn't stop that move. Maybe, my reactions were just a little too slow to avoid it. Maybe, I was just a little too settled in as Abby at the moment to refuse a kiss from a guy she had a crush on. Maybe, I just wasn't thinking at all. Whatever it was, a moment later, our lips met, and we were officially kissing. There was just one problem with that, and it wasn't that Ryan wasn't any good at it. Quite the contrary, he was very good, showing much more talent in making out than he did in holding his liquor. That was the crux of the problem. It made it very hard for me to get up the willpower to want to stop, and he didn't seem to want to call it quits either. For several long seconds, Ryan and I stood there, exploring each other's lips. It wasn't just one long kiss, though. No they were several in rapid successions, too far apart to be one single entity yet too close to allow for anything but a quick gasp of air before plunging back under once more. Had that been enough to content the boy, I would have gladly continued for several more second ... minutes ... even longer, but alas, things were not destined to remained as chaste as just kissing. It all started with me putting my arms around Ryan's neck. He then dropped the hand from my shoulder to my lower back. Both worked together to pull us closer. Then, the hand he'd left on my chin started to dip ... further ... and further. I didn't mind it caressing my neck, nor was I bothered by it running along my shoulder, but as it reached my chest ... well, I didn't really mind that either, but it was a forward enough act to remind me that there was more to this situation than just what I was willing to allow. Snapping free from the momentary loss of sense, I yanked back, shifted my hands from embracing to pushing away. "I think we should stop." My retreat was met with Ryan advancing, trying to take back the space that I had made. "Why would we want to do something like that?" Drunk and horny, I could hardly blame the boy for such actions, but that didn't mean I was going to yield. I locked my arms out to keep a respectable gap between us. "Look, I'd love to keep going, but-" "Then let's keep going," Ryan cut me off, trying to step forward, but not with enough force to actually get any closer. "But," I began again, ignoring the interruption. "You're drunk, and if I let you go anything further, you'll hate me when you sober up." "No, I won't," Ryan assured me, holding me in a powerful, affectionate gaze. "Really? Does the name Andy ring any bells to you?" I questioned. "I don't know any-oh," Ryan started to deny before, finally, realization struck him. The impact of which was almost like a punch, actually staggering the drunken, young man back a step. I smirked. "Yeah, 'oh' is right. Now, are you really ready to go down that road or are you gonna admit that maybe you're a teensy bit drunk right now." "I, uh ... I might be a little drunk," Ryan relented. "That's what I thought," I replied, finally dropping my hands. "So, why don't you go back to your seat, I'll bring you a coke, and we can watch another movie." "Okay ..." Ryan agreed, although, he sounded sort of glum about it. Regardless of tone, it was his words that he followed, turning about to lumber back to his seat. For a few moments of that walk, I watched the boy before finally shaking my head. If I was being honest, I was pretty glum about how that had turned out as well. My heart was still racing from the kisses, and I would have gladly gone a lot further than that, but this was the right call. Rather than mope about it, I turned to grab a couple cans of soda before I joined my friend for a second movie. *********************************************** *********************************************** The skillet in front of me sizzled as I poured more of the doughy mix from the blender onto the metal. Almost immediately, bubbles started to form in the goop as the smell of cooking batter wafted up to my nose. It was a very delicious smell, mingling with those the sausage the was currently sputtering a burner to the side. With a smile on my face, I waited for the right time to flip the forming pancake, all while thinking about how much Ryan would like it. At least, I hoped he liked pancakes. I'd never asked him before, but who didn't like pancakes? "Mmm ... what are you making?" a drowsy, male voice inquired. Lifting my gaze, I found a hungover-looking Ryan leaning against the doorjamb as he rubbed at his head. "Sausage and pancakes. Hope you like those." "Who doesn't like pancakes and sausage?" Ryan questioned, mirroring my earlier thoughts almost perfectly. "Good," I replied, dipping my attention back to the pan just in time to see that a flip was in order. A deft twist of the spatula performed that action perfectly, settling the pancake on its opposite side, leaving a near perfect golden brown side up in the air. "What's really surprising is that you know how to cook," Ryan remarked as he walked over to flop onto one of the stools at the counter, allowing him to watch me work. Without looking up, I shrugged while letting a smirk curl my lips. "I have a lot of skills you wouldn't expect?" "Really?" Ryan inquired. "Yep," I confirmed as I scooped up the current pancake, flipped it over to make sure it was done, then tossed it onto a plate that already had a decent pile of the things stacked up. After that, I continued talking while pouring out the next one. "A lot of the female persona's I've tried have had skills in things, nothing really complicated like medicine or rocket science, but cooking, kickboxing, and some other stuff. If it seems fun while on the training wheels, I use the experience to learn it for real." "Wow ... " Ryan breathed in surprise. "That's oddly ... motivated of you." Quickly performing another perfect flip, I looked up and grinned. "I told you, I'm not lazy. I put forth the effort when I care." "Right ..." Ryan mumbled, glancing around my array of cooking food. "So this is the truth of your mysterious social life outside of school. It's turning into a girl and learning quaint talents like cooking?" "Pretty much," I answered, switching over to the sausage which was finished and in need of a move to a plate. "Of course, I do still find time to hang out with friends and hit the occasional party." "As a girl," my friend noted. "For the parties, yes, but everyone remembers me going to those as a guy, so it's not like I'm a recluse or something," I clarified. Ryan nodded in assent. "True, it's just, people have always wondered what someone so good-looking and popular is doing since you don't date. There was speculation about some tawdry secret romance with, like, a gay guy or some older woman." "Sorry to not be more exciting," I apologized sarcastically, flipping the last pancake off the skillet and on to the pile. "But, on the bright side, breakfast is ready. What do you want with it, orange juice or milk?" "Milk," Ryan answered. "Good choice," I said while gesturing toward the two plates worth of food. "Mind taking these over to the table for me?" "Sure thing," Ryan agreed readily, hopping up from his seat to grab the plates and do as instructed. While my friend took care of that, I spun around to grab a couple glasses from the cabinet, then take them over to the fridge. Using the milk within, I filled both cups before walking over to the table. There, Ryan was already sitting, having taken one of the two places that I had set before starting to cook breakfast. Sliding one drink in front of him, I circled around to take the other seat. "Alright, dig in," I declared, swiping my hands toward Ryan to indicate he should serve himself first. That was all the encouragement the boy needed as he quickly swiped some pancakes for his plate then forked a sausage. While he loaded up on syrup, I reached over grab my own breakfast. That left me just reaching for the bottle to lather up my own pancakes when Ryan took his first bite. "Mmm ... these are delicious," my friend moaned through a mouthful of food. Letting my gaze drop to my plate, I let out a soft giggle and simple, "Thanks." "Really," Ryan insisted before swallowing his first bite. "I can barely make toast, but this ... wow." "Mmm," I hummed weakly, grip tightening on the bottle on my hand. "Thanks for making it by the way," Ryan continued. "No problem," I murmured before forcing myself to get back to my previous task. Unfortunately, breakfast just didn't seem quite as important as it had moments ago. Fortunately, Ryan focused on his meal after that, eating quickly, but not too quickly to make occasional noises of enjoyment and satisfaction. My own meal progressed much more slowly as I picked daintily at my food. Neither of us spoke, though. In that near silence, I was left to my own thoughts. The pancakes seemed to have gone well, and it didn't seem like Ryan was upset about the previous night. However, he'd been pretty drunk, so maybe that didn't mean much. Glancing up at the boy, I tried to deduce what he might be thinking. Unfortunately, at that moment, the only emotions on his face were related to his delighted consumption of breakfast. I couldn't help but smile at that, but it wasn't very useful. "So ..." I began, deciding that I would have to just broach the subject. "How much do you remember from last night? You were pretty drunk." Instantly, the joy on Ryan's face vanished, replied but tension and discomfort. "Everything ... I think." "Including our ..." Rather than actually say the word, I just gestured between my lips and him. Ryan nodded curtly. "Yes." "I see ..." I mumbled, more concerned with the boy's poor reaction than his memory. "It's not a big deal, y'know. I mean, I am a girl right now, and as you mentioned last night ... attractive. You just got a little drunk, and-" "Wasn't that drunk," my friend admitted. Taken aback, my eyes shot wide. "What?" "I mean ... well ... just ..." Ryan floundered. "I knew what I was doing with who. It wasn't until you pointed it out, though, that it felt ... well, wrong's not really the right word. Unacceptable, I guess?" Even as that uncertainty slipped from his lips, he quickly added, "Not that I want to do it again or anything!" "What if I want to?" the question just slipped from my lips without a thought. It was such a stupid thing for me to do. I had no reason to doubt the boy's claim. I should have just accepted it. With a little more time, Ryan would settle in. Once he had, he would be much more likely to be open to such an offer, but instead, I was rushing things again, and I didn't seem to be able to stop myself. "What?" Ryan questioned, screwing his face up with obvious bewilderment. "I want to do it again," I gushed, utterly failing to keep my mouth shut or correct course. "Not just that either. I want us to be like ... not exactly dating, but like friends with benefits." Wide-eyes and a slack jaw greeted that suggestion. The former were practically locked open and staring, barely managing one slow blink as their overwhelmed gaze stared at me. "I know, it's weird, and you've got this irrational fear of the park, but I really think the two of us could have this really cool friendship, now," I prattled on, trying to sell a pitch that I should never have made. "I can be a girl part of the week. You can be a girl part of the week. When we're like that, we can do like the dating thing, and when we're our real selves we hang out as bros, and that way we get like the best of both worlds. No clinging girlfriends trying to keep us from hanging with our friends. No feeling like crap because we can't get someone to want to go out with us. Just everything a person could want in just the right amounts." Slowly, Ryan started to nod, not in acceptance, just as a by-product of his brain starting to wrap his head around the idea. "So you do want to date, then?" "Well, like, part time, I guess," I answered, gesturing at the two of us. "Just when we're opposite like this, though. I mean, think back to last night, before I stopped you. That was fun right? I was into it, too, and even just watching the movies together like this was good. Wasn't it?" "I don't know ..." Ryan hedged. "Ah, come on! Don't do that!" I denounced harshly. "You just said you were totally cool with making out until I called you on it!" "And you're calling me on it now!" Ryan retorted. "This is wrong, Abby! We can't date each other, even part time! We're both straight guys!" "Not right now!" I countered. "In fucking reality, we are!" Ryan shouted. "No!" I denied with all of my being. "This is reality! You know how I know that?! 'Cause we're fuckng living it! It doesn't matter if it's only possible because of magic! It doesn't matter if no one else will remember it! We'll remember it, and that means it's as real as any fucking moment in our lives up until this point!" In the wake of that proclamation, Ryan fell silent. It didn't seem to be because he'd been swayed by my arguments, though. The hard look in his eyes was more indicative of an effort to figure out how to get me to agree with him. "Whatever ..." I mumbled dismissively, rising from my seat. As I did, I grabbed my dishes, using their cleaning as an excuse to turn away from the conversation. "You don't have to force yourself to hang out with me anymore." "I'm not forcing myself," Ryan refuted. "Sure sounds like you are," I answered as I got over to the trash can to scrap the my mostly uneaten food from my dish. "After all, this isn't even real to you. You should spend your time doing things that are." Ryan let out a frustrated sigh. "Is that what you want?" "I told you what I wanted, and you said it was wrong," I answered curtly, shifting over to the sink. Another sigh slid out of the boy as he muttered, "I really don't get you. You claim to be completely straight and could have any girl you want in the whole school, and yet for some reason, you want to have this weird, like, half relationship with me of all people. Why?" Setting down my plate and cut, I turned back to face Ryan. "You remember what we talked about when I came to school with that black eye?" "The whole thing about guy and girl jobs?" Ryan guessed. I nodded. "Yep." "And what does that have to do with this?" my friend asked. "Everything," I sighed, leaning on the counter in front of me. "Guys and girls each have their own role to play in a relationship. I'm not saying they have to play these exact ones or anything, but these are the ones I care about. Guys gotta do the whole chivalry thing, hold doors, offer compliments, whatever. Girls gotta appreciate that stuff, offer support, put forth their own efforts to look good and what not. Problem is, girls always feel entitled to shit. At least, the girls at our school do, if they're even halfway cute. And guys ... well, guys always think they're entitled to shit, too. The whole, I bought you dinner so now ya gotta fuck me, argument. It's infuriating." "There are nice guys that don't think like that," Ryan pointed out. "Who are good looking, strong, and chivalrous?" I questioned. My friend twisted his lips uncertainly. "Maybe?" "Well, I haven't found any, and I'm not too interested in spending a lot of time looking," I explained. "I just wanna have fun, and what better way to do that than to do the date stuff with someone who's already my best friend." "I'm not good looking, though," Ryan argued. While the guy's frame was, objectively, unimpressive, when I swept my gaze over it, I felt nothing but appreciation. "Not from where I'm standing, but that's one of the nice things about magic. Whatever your dream girl is, the park can make me look like that even while it makes sure I find you decidedly studly. The whole physical part is solved, and we already like hanging out with each other." "It's kinda scary how reasonable you make using a creepy magic water park to turn into each other's wet dreams sound," Ryan remarked jokingly. "Because it - is - reasonable," I answered. "Or, at least, I think so anyway." "Yeah, I could almost believe that until I get to the point where I think about what wet dreams are about," Ryan commented. "I imagine the plan is to go a lot further than just kissing." I shrugged. "I'm not gonna demand that you sleep with me, Ryan, as a boy or a girl. That said, I am willing to go pretty much however far you want. The only reason I stopped you last night was because I thought you'd be mad if I didn't." "Seriously?" my friend questioned. "You'd still want to go through all this trouble to pseudo-date me if I said I never wanted to do more than hold hands?" "Well, I wouldn't believe you," I noted pointedly. "But, yeah, if that ended up being your line, I wouldn't make you cross it. We might end up pseudo-breaking up our pseudo-relationship, though. Pseudo- pseudo-like." Chuckling, Ryan shook his head. 'I can't believe I'm going to say this, but alright, I'll give it a try." "Really?" I blurted, truly surprised. With a sigh, Ryan nodded. "Yeah, sure, why not? What other way am I ever gonna get to date my dream girl, but through fantastical nonsense like magic?" "A good point," I remarked. "How about we do our first date next Thursday? That way school's done. Plus, I have a great idea for it." "Uhm ... alright ... I guess," Ryan agreed, clearly full of uncertainty regarding this experiment even if was willing to give it a try. "Great," I replied. "Mind if we hold off the dream girl stuff for a couple weeks, though, while we get settled in or do you wanna crank things up to eleven right off the bat?" "I think holding off is a good idea," Ryan chose quickly. "I'm certainly not ready to use that park to become some perverted fantasy. In fact, I'm pretty sure next time I'm gonna ask Anya to tone it down some, 'cause those boobs were annoying." "Really?" I remarked, glancing down at my current assets. "I kinda like these, and they're bigger than yours were." Ryan chuckled at that. "Well, you're a little more used to boobs in general than I am." "That's true," I agreed with a giggle. "And sure, change whatever you want. Also, don't worry about the cost. I'll cover the passes." "Oh ... right ... those were pretty expensive, weren't they?" my friend mused. "Yep, but I don't mind," I told him. "My parents give me plenty of money, and it's only fair I cover it since it's my idea." "Alright," Ryan acknowledged before pointing down at his plate. "Now, I'm gonna get back to this pancake, 'cause it's way too delicious to let go to waste." *********************************************** *********************************************** "So, how'd ya do? Not gonna get yourself grounded for bad grades or something are ya?" I inquired as I met up with Ryan at my car after class. My friend chuckled. "Wouldn't that be funny, all this worry and uncertainty rendered pointless by some lousy grades." "Doesn't sound too funny to me, but I can start laughing if I have to," I remarked. Still laughing, Ryan shook his head. "No, we're good. Some of my finals were a little more rocky than I would've liked, but should be enough. How 'bout you? Did you keep perfection alive?" "Of course," I answered with a grin. My confidence had Ryan shaking his head again, this time in frustration. "God, I hate you sometimes. Can't you just pretend to worry, at least." "Nah, not my style," I answered as I reached into my pocket to remove a card and offer it to my friend. "But speaking of things to worry about, I stopped by the park yesterday to get your pass, and here it is?" With considerable trepidation, Ryan reached out to take the laminated bit of plastic. "Ah ... great ... now I can go fuck with reality whenever I want." "Well, no more than once a week, and just until the end of the summer," I informed him. "I figured that's long enough for a trial period." "Probably," Ryan mumbled, looking down at the card in his hand. "So, this thing just like yours other than that?" "Yep, two days every time," I confirmed. "If you want anything but the default, just talk to Anya or her grandmother beforehand and they'll tweak things for ya." Flipping the card over a couple of times, Ryan nodded. "Got it." "Also, not that I necessarily mind spending some time together with us both girls, but we should probably coordinate our transformations. After all, you might like to do the weekend thing sometimes, and I might have stuff that's better on weekdays and whatever," I noted. "For starters, I was thinking we'd keep it simple, though, with me still heading to the park on Fridays, and you just getting used to that. In a couple weeks, you can slip into the rotations, too." "No," Ryan answered simply. Blinking in surprise, I furrowed my brow. "No, what?" "No, I'm not gonna wait two weeks or whatever," my friend told me. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna go ahead and do it." Surprise not letting up, I asked, "Are you sure?" "Yep. I'm always going to have to force myself to go back to that park, no matter how long I put it off," Ryan explained. "I mean, the places is creepy as fuck, and I really don't wanna be magicked into anything, especially not a ... y'know, so I might as well either quit right now or take the plunge." "Wait, does that mean you wanna go right now?" I questioned. Immediately, Ryan was shaking his head fervently. "No! No, next week." "Okay, well, what day then?" I inquired. "Remember, I'm doing tomorrow and Friday." "Ah, right our first ... whatever, uhm ..." Ryan mumbled, furrowing his brow in thought. "I guess I'll do Monday. Those always suck anyway, so I won't have to ruin a perfectly good day." "Works for me," I agreed readily. "Got any ideas for what you wanna do together?" Taking another moment to think, Ryan ended up shrugging. "Hiding?" That answer pulled a chuckle out of me. "Well, you can always come hang out at my place. We can do the whole movie and drinks thing again or some games or whatever?" "Uhm ... Sure ... I guess ..." Ryan answered, drawing his words out with uncertainty. "But, uh ... I think I'm gonna skip on the alcohol. It's been ... problematic." "Eh, you just gotta get some experience under your belt, so you know what you can handle," I replied. "Maybe, but I'll save that for when we're just hanging like this," my friend answered, waving a finger between me and him. "That way it's not so complicated." "Fair enough," I relented. "But speaking of, wanna swing by my place right now? We can have a little victory drink for making it through the school year with our sanity intact." Ryan screwed his face up incredulously. "You feel like your sanity's intact right now?" "Of course," I told him without a hint of doubt. Rolling his eyes, my friend let out a heavy sigh. "Well mine certainly doesn't feel that way, but I guess that's just all the more reason for that drink." "So that's a yes, then?" I double-checked. Ryan nodded. "Yep, let's go." *********************************************** *********************************************** Bing bong! The doorbell chimed before I stepped to the side to lean my shoulder against the door jamb. As I did, I folded my arms and tapped one foot impatiently. Even once I heard the sound of someone approaching from within, I kept at it, wishing the guy would just hurry up already. Fortunately, Ryan didn't leave me standing there for long before pulling open the door. "Whoa ..." was the first word to be gasped from his lips at the sight of me. "Abby?" Shoving myself off the doorjamb, I turned to start right toward the street while beckoning over my shoulder. "First off, it's Gail today, and secondly, let's go." "Gail?" Ryan repeated the name with obvious bewilderment. "Wait? We're not gonna talk about why the fuck you look like that?" Stopping, I turned back, adopting a wicked smirk and hard gaze. "Why would we? Got a problem with bigger girls, little man?" The emphasis on size was a rather poignant one at the moment. Compared to the short, curvy form from the week before, or even the tall, lean one from before that, I definitely qualified as bigger. At six-one, I nearly as tall as I was as a guy, and my broad-shouldered frame was at least as, if not more, muscular. Of course, I was still a girl, with a sizable bust and rounded hips, although, neither seemed all that impressive when set against bulk befitting an mma fighter. "No ..." Ryan answered with obvious caution, as if he was saying that out of fear of retribution. "It just ... doesn't seem to fit that whole role theory you keep talking about." "Actually, it sort of does. You see, I first came up with this look years ago, to try out being a lesbian," I explained before rolling my eyes. "I know, I know, big butch dyke is such a clich?, but I was thirteen and I wanted to make sure I was the dude in the relationship." That answer earned a slow nod from my friend. "Okay ... and what does a butch lesbian have to do with us? I thought you said this was supposed to be like a first date. Right?" "And it is," I assured him. "I didn't do the lesbian thing, this time. I picked this look for something else." "Right ..." Ryan murmured, looking a touch worried. "And what was that something else?" Chuckling, I jabbed a thumb back toward the road. "Because of that." Following the gesture, Ryan's eyes widened. "A motorcycle?!" "Yep," I answered with a grin, glancing back at my ride. Over the years, I had been many girls, but all of them, if they were old enough to drive had owned cars. That is, except this one. It hadn't been intentional, but for some reason, this particular version ended up owning a motorcycle. It wasn't some heavy, harley-style chopper, though, but a sleek, black, sport bike that even I thought was incredibly fun to ride. "And am I going to get to-" Ryan started to guess. "Putter it around a parking lot like an idiot child until you learn how to ride it?" I finished for him. "Yeah, you are, but I wouldn't expect you to get it down in just a day. It's a lot harder than you might think." "Really? Isn't it basically just a bicycle with a motor attached?" Ryan questioned. Such a ridiculous oversimplification had me chortling with delight. "Alright, big shot, we'll start right here," I told him, tossing him the keys to the bike. "Go start it." "Should I put on one of those helmets first, or ...?" Ryan asked as he caught the key. "Just go start it," I told him. "Okay," Ryan agreed with a shrug, starting toward the bike. Grinning broadly, I followed behind the boy. While he continued onto the motorcycle, I stopped a few feet away and folded my arms. Then, I just waited, watching his every movement. Immediately, it was clear that Ryan had no experience with motorcycles. He managed to look awkward just trying to sit on it. He fumbled to find where to put the keys. Once he'd managed that, he tried to turn it and ... nothing. Frowning, he tried again, but still nothing. "Having some trouble?" I inquired. "Uhm ... no ..." the boy mumbled, frowning. That frown only deepened as I started snickering, but Ryan pushed through it. With normal car training failing him, he started to experiment, looking for pedals, levers, and anything else he could manipulate to start the bike. Everytime, he would depress something, then turn the key to no avail until finally, he found something meaningful - a small button on the handlebars. Depressing that button finally got the vehicle to do something. The motor churned. The bike lurched, nearly shaking a startled Ryan right off. Then, the whole thing sputtered out and fell back to being stationary. "Ooo, getting closer," I teased. "Maybe you'll actually figure it out ... if we sit here for a while ... a good long while." "Alright, alright, I get it! It's harder than I thought, " Ryan huffed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Can you stop wasting time and just tell me?" "Sure," I pretended to agree before adding. "When we get to a parking lot." That answer earned a sigh from the boy. "Fine ... whatever. Let's go find a parking lot then." "Great, then get off, so Mama can get us there," I barked, jabbing a thumb to the side as if I could eject him from the seat with just a hand movement. Another sigh followed but Ryan did as he told, swinging off the bike. Once he had, I immediately stepped up, scooping my helmet from where it lay on the back. After pulling it on, I grabbed another one that was hooked the side of the vehicle, unclipped it and tossed it to Ryan. "Put that on," I ordered as I swung onto the bike and settled in, lifting the kickstand along the way. Once I was ready, I patted the seat behind me. "And make sure you hold on tight, cause we're gonna be going fast." "Got it," Ryan said as he hopped on behind me. After that, there was a moment's pause before he finally realized there was nothing to hold onto but me. Only then did he lean forward to slide his arms loosely around my solid waist. Grinning, I smoothly worked the clutch and started up the bike, letting the engine roar, healthily to life. "Ready?!" "Ready!" Ryan yelled back. A moment later, he was clinging to me alot more tightly as we shot forward with the sort of acceleration that a car can only dream of. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Alright, alright, not bad!" I called out as I watched Ryan coast the motorcycle slowly down a row of parking spots. "Good, good! And don't forget to-!" Crash! The bike hit the ground as Ryan braked to a stop only to forget to either lower a foot or kick out the the stand. "Fuck! Sorry!" the boy exclaimed as he scrambled to pick up the machine. Chuckling, I waved off the apology. "It's alright! If I was gonna get mad at you for dropping it, I'd already have snapped your neck by now!" That supposition was certainly true, because this was far from the first time that my friend had dropped the bike on the ground. After all, learning to ride a motorcycle was tough. Even having been through the whole thing with training wheels a couple of times, it had still taken me a while to learn without them, and pretty much every mistake ended in the bike on the ground. If you hit the gas too hard, the bike could leap right out from under you. If you hit it too soft, you might not have enough momentum to keep it upright or the engine would choke and yank the thing around before it died. If you forgot to support it every time you stopped it would fall. Everyone of those issues and more had led to drops from Ryan already, and would probably lead to more before he finally got used to the machine. But ... "Still! You've probably scuffed it up enough for one day!" I called out as I shoved myself up off the grass I'd been sitting on. After wiping my jeans off, I bent down to scoop my help up as well. "How about you let someone who knows what they're doing take us to grab a bite to eat?!" "Aw! Come on!" Ryan whined like a petulant child. "I've almost got it!" Shaking my head, I started walking toward both boy and bike. "You almost got what?! A full circuit around one row of spots?! It takes a lot more than that to ride it on the road!" "All the more reason to keep at it!" Ryan retorted. Getting closer, I was able to lower my voice and level an unwavering stare at the boy. "Tomorrow. We're done for the day." Imposing in spite of my gender, Ryan finally relented, sitting the bike up on its stand before stepping back. "Fine." "That's a good boy," I remarked, rubbing my friend's helmet like I was ruffling his hair as I walked by him. After that, I swung right onto the bike, pulled on my helmet, and gestured for the boy to get on. I could just hear the sound of Ryan sighing before the sound of the bike's engine starting drowned him out. He could have been disappointed or angry, but either way, he got on like I wanted. He was still a little tentative about grabbing hold of me, though, but he got there after a couple of moments. With my friend settled in, I took off, feeling the rush of the bike's incredible speed especially in the way the wind immediately started to tug at my clothes. Given the day's heat, that wind felt good just as a means of cooling off, too. I didn't get too much of it, though, before pulling into a burger place not far from the school parking lot. "So ... I've been wondering," Ryan began as we both got off the bike and removed our helmets. "Oh yeah? Was it hard for ya?" I teased, starting toward the restaurant. Chuckling, Ryan followed after me. "I was just wondering if there were any limits on what the park could give us. Like, could go in there on Monday and have Anya give me a Ferrari?" "Uhm ... you could, but you might not want to," I answered vaguely, pulling open the door to the food joint. "Why not?" Ryan inquired as he stepped by me. "Did you try one out once and find out it sucks somehow?" Entering behind the boy, I shook my head. "No, there's nothing wrong with Ferrari's, it's just ... the more you change about your own life the more you change about everything around it. Like, a few times I've tried being other races, and I ended up being adopted." "Okay ... I mean, adopted's not so bad right?" Ryan argued, lowering his voice as we got into line. "It's not, but, one time, when I was much smaller, I wanted to be a grown up, so I went from eight to eighteen. I also ended up having a totally different family," I explained quietly. "That was ... disconcerting." "Really? So even you have a limit before the park gets creepy?" Ryan remarked. "I wouldn't say that necessarily," I clarified. "It's just the whole having people know and love you that you've never met before, especially since you weirdly know and love them back that got to me." "Which is because of the park," Ryan argued. I shrugged. "Whatever makes you feel better, dude." Then, the two of us were at the front of the line, forcing us to put the conversation on hold while we ordered food. It didn't take long, though, and by the time we got to the machine to fill our sodas, Ryan was already saying, "Well, personally, I could kinda go for some different parents. Mine are assholes." "Really? Other than them not buying you a car, what's so bad about them?" I questioned. "Hey, that's a big deal!" Ryan exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. "Really? So since they couldn't afford another car, they just should never have had children." "No ..." Ryan conceded with obvious reluctance. "But still!" "Still, what? What else have they done?" I pressed. "Well, chores for one thing, and a pathetic allowance for doing 'em, and rules about my grades, and my mom's constantly harassing me about where I'm going and when I'll get back," Ryan rattled off. "So, they're not rich and love you and want you to be safe and successful," I surmised. "Wow ... they sound like monsters." My sarcasm earned a dismissive scoff from Ryan. "Pfft! Like you know anything, living in a mansion, getting whatever you want, and you parents caring so little they let you steal their booze." A wan smirk curled my lips. "Yeah ... well, I was just warning you about the park's limits like you wanted. Anya'll be able to tell you more. She'll also probably warn you if something you want is too much. Ignore her at your own peril." *********************************************** *********************************************** "And here we are," I remarked as I turned off my motorcycle and removed my helmet. "Yep, that's my house alright," Ryan noted facetiously as he swung off the bike. "I'd say thanks for the lift, but I was really hoping to be the one driving." With a chuckle, I replied, "Sorry, maybe tomorrow. Assuming you wanna go out again tomorrow, anyway." "You'd think I'd really turn down a chance to ride this thing again?" Ryan asked incredulously, eyeing the bike. As he did, he scowled slightly and gestured at his helmet. "By the way, where do I put this." "Oh, here, let me," I said, taking the helmet from him. There was a small loop on the back that was easily threaded by a carabiner attached to the bike's saddlebags. "Ah ... alright ..." Ryan breathed, nodding slowly. "I guess that's that, then." "I guess," I acknowledged. Still nodding, Ryan started to turn to go. "Well, I'll see you tomor-" he began only to have his words hitch as I reached out to grab his wrist. "-row?" While I hadn't even thought about it before I'd reached out, the feel of the boy's wrist and the uncertainty in his voice as he finished his farewell made me suddenly pensive. I could be making a mistake again, but maybe it was the right time. It certainly felt like it to me. "Uhm ... Gail?" Ryan murmured uneasily. "You had fun today, right?" I double-checked. "Yeah, definitely, that thi-" Ryan began to declare happily. Mid-gush, I yanked on the hand I held, tugging the unsuspecting boy down and toward me. That alone was enough to choke off his words, but if it hadn't, what came next would have. My lips found his, pressing in hard. It was only for a brief moment, though, before I pulled back. "Me too," I followed up the kiss, shoving the boy away. Wide-eyed and dazed, Ryan stumbled back a step before he caught himself. However, even once he'd regained his balance, he didn't seem to know what to do. Instead, he was left standing there, staring at me. Caught in that gaze, I twisted up my face uncertainly. "Too much?" "N-No, just ... " Ryan started to say only to trail off for a moment. When he finally spoke again, he did so while rubbing the wrist that I'd held. "... not used to get manhandled like that by a girl." "Oh, yeah, sorry, this is the form where I first tried out kickboxing, and a few other martial arts, too," I remarked, flexing my fingers. "It's uhm ... pretty strong." "Yeah, I could tell," Ryan noted, shaking out his hand. "Kiss was pretty strong, too." Smirking, I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that an appreciation for bigger girls I hear awakening?" "Uh uh!" Ryan denied, quickly shaking his head. Such an emphatic response got a chuckle from me. "Don't worry. I'm not a big fan of being like this either, but it's good for some things." "Like owning a sick ride?" Ryan remarked. "Yeah, and other things," I replied vaguely, keeping my other reasons for picking this particular look to myself. "Anyway, thanks for the kiss, little man. Tomorrow, we'll get you riding for real." Unperturbed the insulting appellation, Ryan chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, alright. See ya then." "See ya," I answered right back before pulling my helmet back on and pretending to settle in to get ready to leave. That left Ryan free to turn and start toward his house, shaking his head as he did. I didn't immediately start up my bike, though. Instead, even as I leaned forward on the handlebars, I watched the boy go, partially checking out his ass, and partially just thinking about how well everything had gone. Even the kiss, while clearly surprising, hadn't been too awkward. It seemed like this might actually wor- Halfway to his house, Ryan glanced back toward me, and for a brief moment our eyes met. He probably could tell that through the tinted visor on my helmet, but that didn't stop me from jerking my gaze down to my bike and immediately starting it up. The engine roared to life as I revved it a couple of times, mostly just drowning out my own whirling thoughts. Then, with one final roar, I put the engine into gear and took off, bringing our first date to a true and final close. *********************************************** *********************************************** "What's wrong?" I asked as I slid out of my car. "Nothing," Ryan answered while doing the same only to add, "Why?" once he was out and on his feet. I shrugged. "You just don't look all that excited for someone who's got a free trip to the movies waiting for him." "Oh ... no, I'm excited about that. The movie should be really good," Ryan answered. "But ...?" I inquired leadingly. "But ..." Ryan began from there only to finish by mumbling, "I miss the bike." Chortling at the issue, I smacked a hand against the top of my car. "I told you this thing would lose its charm!" "No, it's just ... that bike ..." Ryan corrected, shaking his head. "That things like bottled lightning, you just pop off the cork and boom your off to the races." "Yeah, it's certainly fun to take out now and again," I agreed. "Especially once you're a little less raw, and y'know, can actually get it over thirty miles per hour without wetting yourself like a little bitch." "Hey! It's not my fault!" Ryan protested defensively. "It's not like driving a car. There's literally nothing around you, and when you take a turn it starts to tilt lower and lower ..." Pausing the boy shuddered. "That's gonna take some getting used to is all." Chuckling, I curled my lips in a smirk. "That mean I should expect you to come out all big and butch on Monday, so you can get some more time with a bike?" "Huh ... actually, I hadn't thought about that, but maybe," my friend answered. "No way my parents would ever get me one of those, though, so I'd have to change a lot. Might be too much to deal with for only my second go around." "Maybe," I agreed, turning to start toward the theater. "Plus, it would be awfully selfish of you." Jogging up beside me, Ryan countered, "Says the guy who tricked me into going to a magical water park without telling me it would turn me into a girl." Not the least bit guilty about that, I shrugged off the accusation. "Would you have even believed me had I told you the truth?" "No," Ryan admittedly honestly. "I mean, come on, magic? How could I have ever believed that was real." "Then, it's a good thing I didn't tell you," I answered. "If I had, we'd never have gotten to here." "Here? You mean where I'm pseudo-dating a guy who's a sometimes a girl, while committing to sometimes be a girl for him?" Ryan summarized. "Yeah ... I could probably have lived without that." "Wow ..." I mumbled, looking down at the ground. "You must have really hated that kiss yesterday." Rubbing at the back of his head, Ryan let out an uncertain hum. "Mmm ... no, not exactly. It's just so ... complicated. I mean, one day you could be my girlfriend, the next just a normal guy friend, then craziest of all, the day after that you could be my boyfriend. And that's not even getting into all the different versions of girl you or I guess girl me, too. It's just a mess." "Eh, they say variety's the spice of life," I replied nonchalantly. "Yes, they do," Ryan allowed, but he didn't seem to believe it. "I don't think they had a magic water park in mind when they did, though." I shrugged. "Still just variety." "Yeah ... right ..." Ryan muttered, shaking his head. "Anyway, I guess I can't really be too mad about it. Been a rocky start, but there's been enough ups to cover the downs." "And just think how much better it'll get once you've had some time to settle in," I added. "No more awkwardness and unfamiliarity to ruin the experience. Plus, you'll totally forget about all that complexity you were worried about it. It'll just be how life is." "A scary thought in its own right," Ryan noted. "But exciting, too, right?" I asked hopefully. The boy's response wasn't immediate or really gung-ho, but he did nod. "Yeah, exciting, too." *********************************************** *********************************************** "I can't believe I'm really gonna do this," Ryan remarked as he got out of my car. "I can't believe I'm even here." "Aw, come on, it won't be that bad," I told him, already out of the vehicle by that point. "Just think about how half the world seems to not just manage, but be happy with it." "I guess ..." Ryan mumbled unhappily. Walking around the car, I clapped a hand on my friend's shoulder. "It's gonna be fine, man. The park's really not scary, and I'll be taking care of everything for ya after." "Yeah, including probably stealing a good night kiss," Ryan noted sharply. "I will not!" I denied emphatically. "Oh yeah?! 'Cause you did on our first date!" Ryan retorted. Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "Fine, I promise right now I will not kiss you unless you start it. In fact, I won't even bring up kissing or anything else like it for the next two days. Happy?" That offer earned me a skeptical look from my friend, but he ended up nodding slowly. "Yeah, happier, anyway." "Great!" I declared, giving the boy one more clap on the shoulder before I started toward the park. "Then let's get to this." "And, your eagerness makes me sad again," Ryan muttered, even as he followed after me. "Of course, I'm eager," I countered. "I've got a date tonight, after all, and other than last week, I haven't had many of those in the last year." Not bothering with any actual words to express his disdain, Ryan just groaned out a lengthy, "Ugh ...." "Oh, stop it already," I huffed dismissively. "Nobody likes a whiner." "Except a cheeser," Ryan joked. "Yeah, well you don't get to be both!" I shot back. "Then I choose whiner," Ryan decided. I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." That response got my friend snickering at my expense, but belying his claim, he didn't offer any more complaints. Of course, there wasn't a lot of time for them. A few moments later, we were at the ticket booth to Bikini Beach. "Hi, Ryan. Nice to see you again," Anya greeted my friend. "H-Hi," Ryan stuttered out a clearly fearful reply. In response, Anya offered a warm and comforting smile. "Relax. I'm not gonna trick you into anything terrible or lay some horrible curse upon you." "You're apparently not gonna say hi to me either," I remarked. "I'm hurt." Smile twisting into a wicked smirk, Anya shot a knowing look my way. "Because, no one ever welcomes trouble, Andy, but you always bring it with you." "Untrue!" I denied. "I haven't caused any trouble since I brought Ryan here the first time." "Some could say that was trouble in and off itself," Anya countered, turning back to my friend. "Isn't that right, Ryan." "I certainly felt troubled," the boy agreed. Gasping indignantly, I sputtered. "Oh, I see how it is! Trying to turn my own friend against me!" "Don't be ridiculous," Anya dismissed without ever looking my way. Instead, she leveled a very intense look at Ryan. "You make your own decision. Don't you?" Blanching under that gaze, Ryan nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am." "And one of them is coming here today, correct?" the woman asked. "Uhm ... y-yes, but there were a few thi-" Ryan began to clarify. Instantly, Anya's intensity faded back into her congenial smile. "Don't worry. I've already set up all the adjustments." "What? You have?" Ryan questioned incredulously. "But how?" "Magic, Ryan. Magic," Anya answered simply. "Oh ... right ..." the boy mumbled, shaking his head. "Well, alright then ... I guess I better get to it." "I'll wait for you out here," I told him With a nod and quiet, "Yep," Ryan turned and started toward the gate, trudging along with dread-slowed strides and sagging shoulders. Watching my friend leave, I rocked back and forth on my feet while cracking my knuckles. I also wondered exactly what sort of girl he'd decided to try and be. Probably flat-chested, given his constant complaining about the alternative, but other than that, I really had no idea. There were so many possibilities, too. Even after years of coming to the park, I still came up with new ideas, and Ryan would be coming at this from a whole different perspective, so it really was impossible to guess. "You seem excited," Anya remarked neutrally. "Yeah, of course, I am," I replied, turning toward the woman. Only then did I realize there could be a secondary meaning behind such a comment, causing my eyes to narrow. "Why? Is there some reason I shouldn't be?" Smiling mysteriously, Anya shrugged. "I don't know." "Yes, you do," I corrected, voice full of accusation. Anya just laughed off the cold tone. "I keep telling you. I know what - might - happen, not what - will - happen." "And there might be a reason for me to be worried?" I questioned. "There's always a reason for you to be worried, Andy," Anya teased. "After all, in spite of your actions to the contrary, magic's not a toy. You shouldn't play around with it." "Yeah, yeah, it's a potentially dangerous tool. I've heard the lecture from your grandmother plenty of times," I muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "Thing is, y'know what else is a potentially dangerous tool? A motorcycle. It's still fun to ride, as my date last Thursday and Friday will attest." "It certainly can be," Anya answered, both tone and words too vague for any real meaning. Sighing in frustration, I rolled my eyes. "God, I wish you'd stop that." "Stop what? Talking to you?" Anya inquired with a smirk. "You know what!" I growled. "It's impossible to get a straight answer out of you. Everything you say is some mysterious riddle, but there's never enough clues to solve them. It's infuriating." "I've given you plenty of straight answers. You just never want to listen to them," Anya countered. "You always ignore the clues, too. Always so certain that you know what to do." "Whatever," I muttered, turning back toward the gates. I was sick and tired of the woman's condescension. "You and your grandmother would never let me do this if it was really dangerous." "True," Anya conceded. "But just 'cause it won't kill ya doesn't mean it won't hurt." Glancing back again, I raised an eyebrow. "So something bad is gonna happen?" Smirking, the woman shrugged. "I don't know." Hardly surprised, I just shook my head and turned back to the gates once more. After all, I was never going to get anything out of Anya except vague warnings. Ryan, though, would be back pretty soon, and I didn't want to miss his, or I supposed by then it would be her, entrance. While I wasn't sure if it was because of my own eagerness or my friend being slow, it felt like I waited a very long time for Ryan. Several times, other guests leaving got my hopes up. Most such false starts were girls that were oddly shy for how attractive they were, which made me all but certain that they used to be male. Even a couple of more comfortable and athletically built girls made me wonder if they might be Ryan, but those too went by with little more than a quick glance my way. Finally, though, my wait came to an end. When Ryan did walk through the gate, it was obvious that it was him. For one, he looked right at me, then immediately jerked his gaze down to his feet in obvious bashfulness. For two, he didn't walk toward the parking lot but toward me. "Hey, Becka," I greeted brightly as I looked over my formerly male friend with appreciation. I had expected Ryan to go overboard on defeminizing himself out of a distaste for the whole process, but that just wasn't the case. Yes, he had gone for a smaller bust, but not a completely flat one, just an average one. That actually suited his choice of a slimmer, more athletic frame quite well. Other than that, this Becka looked much like the one I remembered from a couple weeks prior, cute but not really beautiful, average height, and sporting long brown hair and an expression that was a mix between embarrassed and mildly creeped out. "Hey ..." Becka mumbled as she stopped in front of me. "You look good," I complimented. The former boy lifted her gaze to give me an uncertain look. "Are you being serious?" "Of course," I answered. "Did you expect me to call my date ugly?" "No, it's just ... I don't know, sounded like you were making fun of me," Becka explained. "Oh, sorry, no, I like what you went with, very pretty," I told her. While she probably would have been furious to realize this, Becka's cheeks flushed a little at my earnestness. "Oh ... well, good ... I guess" she stammered, rubbing at one arm. "I am supposed to be your date or whatever, after all." "Yep, and speaking of dates, how do you feel about getting outta here and going to dinner?" I inquired. "Sounds great to me," Becka answered eagerly, although, that eagerness was probably more related to getting away from the park than anything else. As the two of us turned to go, Anya called out, "Have fun!" It was a simple sentiment, but it engendered complex responses. Becka shuddered slightly, possibly out of fear of Anya. Meanwhile, the words needled into my thoughts, making me wonder what sort of message might be hidden amongst them or if the witch was just messing with me. *********************************************** *********************************************** A few fluid steps, a precisely angled swing of my arm, then the grind of a heavy ball rolling along wood passed by. The last of those continued for a few anxious moments as I watched its source spin down the aisle. Then ... crack! It collided with the pins, sending them flying. "Yes!" I exclaimed, pumping my fist as I saw none of the pins left standing. "Oh, come on!" Becka complained from behind me. "Another one?!" Grinning, I turned to walk back to the table next to the scoring station. "It's called skill." "Oh yeah?" Becka, who was seated at that table, asked rhetorically. "And is this 'skill' one of the ones you only have 'cause of a magical park?" Chuckling, I plopped into one of the chairs. "First of all, you don't get to keep the training wheels. You have to actually practice on your own if you want to be good at something all the time. Secondly, you're the one that's using the park tonight not me." "Whatever," my date muttered dismissively. Snatching one last nacho from the tray on the table, she shoved it into her mouth and popped up from her seat to take her turn. Unlike me, Becka's form was pretty sloppy, clearly that of someone with little experience with bowling. She also was using a ball that was far too heavy for her, a demand of stubborn masculinity that refused to accept advice to use a lighter one. Her last problem was actually my performance, which was making her try way too hard. The proof of that came as she tried to emulate my strike only to not have the posture or wrist strength for such an effort. The ball slipped from her hand, thudded into the floor, then dribbled over to the gutter before following the long, slow roll down the lane to a zero. "Fuck!" Becka cursed, shaking out her hand. "Y'know, if you used a lighter ball or accepted my offer to give you some point-" I commented with smug condescension. Spinning around, the girl leveled a harsh glare and sharply pointed finger at me. "Quiet you!" Raising my hands in surrender, I used one to pantomime zipping my lips closed and tossing away the key. That did little to make Becka less angry. If anything, she seemed to be more annoyed, giving me a derisive huff as she turned to await the ball return. Her second attempt was better, managing a decent enough six to close out the frame. Turn done, Becka marched back to plunk in her seat with a weary sigh. "We could also do something else if you don't like this," I broke my silence to offer. In spite of her obvious frustration, Becka shook her head, reaching out for another chip. "Nah, this is fine." "You sure?" I double-checked. Popping the chip into her mouth, Becka nodded while she talked through the food, "Yeah, I mean ... I didn't expect dinner to be a hotdog and nachos at a bowling alley, but it's way better than some fancy restaurant followed by a romantic movie. I just wanna get at least one strike tonight." "Ah," I acknowledged, smiling as I rose from my seat to take my turn. My attention wasn't really on such things, though. My head was focused on how Becka was happy with my choice of activities for the evening - at least, if she was to be believed. There were all the angry reactions to consider, as well, but sometimes that was just part of the fun of competition. You have to be invested to really enjoy it, even if you're losing. A lack of investment had other consequences as well, namely a bad couple of balls from me that left me failing to get a mark for the first time in this game. "And the flawless facade cracks!" Becka taunted as two pins were left up in the wake of my second ball. "I was hardly flawless," I pointed out as a walked back, although, that didn't keep the mildly frustrated scowl from my lips. After all, while I didn't get all that many strikes, I typically picked up spares if they weren't extremely difficult splits. Not this time, though. "Yeah, yeah, all I know is it's time for the come back!" Becka declared, springing up to rush forward and take her next turn. Such enthusiasm from my date forced my scowl back into a smile. Yep, she was definitely enjoying herself. That was great news, especially after the success that was last week. With such a positive start, Becka was unlikely to quit this little experiment, as long as nothing truly egregious happened. That meant I didn't have to keep worrying about making the sale, and could finally relax a little and just enjoy being in a relationship. "Come on. Come on," Becka chanted, tilting her body as if she could control her ball's movement with that. It almost seemed true when, a moment later, her ball clipped the last pin, knocking it over to give her a spare. "Yes!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Then, she spun about to level another hard look and pointed finger my way, this time threateningly. "I'm comin' for ya." "Is that so?" I asked rhetorically as I stood up. Lifting my arms, I indulged in a long stretch, adding a few shoulder rolls to the mix as well. "Then, I guess I should stop messin' around and bring my A game." "Or you could, y'know, bring, like, your F game," Becka remarked self- consciously. "I've got a much better chance against that." "Sorry, we're all outta F game here. Let me just give you some complimentary A for the inconvenience," I apologized facetiously as I stepped forward to take my turn. In spite of my grand claims, I didn't actually try any harder. To the contrary, I went with a much showier but less effective style of bowling that included lots of silly jokes and trick shots that kept the evening lively and Becka's score closer to mine. It was a date, after all. It was my job to entertain her. *********************************************** *********************************************** "So, that's one clean sweep for me," I remarked as I came to a stop on Becka's porch. Rolling her eyes, Becka stopped in front of me. "Yeah, yeah. I'll get ya next time." "Oh really?" I inquired doubtfully. "And how do you plan to do that exactly? Break my legs." "In a manner of speaking," Becka answered. "Next time, you're gonna be the girl, and not just any girl. I'm gonna make you come as some tiny, little, ninety pound nothing that has to granny bowl even the tiniest ball." I snickered at the idea. "Well, that's quite the dastardly scheme you've got there, but I might be able to take you even granny bowling. You really suck." "I'm a lot better as a guy!" my date retorted defensively. "Well, I suppose we'll see if you are or not," I replied. "I suppose we will!" Becka huffed staunchly. A momentary pause followed in the wake of that exchange. Through it, I stood there smirking at the girl's competitiveness, and Becka stood there glaring at me with defiance. That glare didn't last long, though, leading to her gaze falling to the ground. "Anyway ..." Becka segued only to trail off without saying more. "Do you wanna do something tomorrow as well or was one date as a girl enough for you this time around?" I inquired to fill the topic void. "Uhm ... I don't know," Becka mumbled, rubbing at her arm. "I mean, I had fun, but I'm not sure I can take another thorough ass-beating so soon." Chuckling, I answered, "Y'know, we don't have to do anything competitive, again. Could just come hang out at my place." "Last time I did that, I got drunk and nearly ... well, you were there," Becka pointed out. "And again, y'know, you could just not drink," I pointed out. "True ..." Becka conceded, trailing off in a way that made it seem like she was going to say more, but she never did. Feeling like that was as good as an answer, I stepped in to save my date the burden of actually making the decision. "Let's just stick to one this time," I declared. "We'll do like a dude hangout on Wednesday, instead." "Yeah, sounds good to me," Becka answered, lifting her gaze even as she kept her head tilted down. "Date on Friday after that?" "Sure," I agreed. "Got any preferences for your date? We could do that whole tiny, weakling plan if you're petty enough to want to thump me right away or bring out the butch chick for more motorcycle time." Laughing softly, the girl shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know. You seem to be pretty good at coming up with fun surprises, so come however you'd like, I guess." "Okay," I replied, letting my lips curl into a mischievous grin. "I'll make sure to come up with something ... interesting for you." Becka leaned back slightly at those words. "Uhm ... maybe I should hem you in, after all ..." "Too late!" I blurted. "Plans are already underway! No way to change them now." "There's literally nothing you could have possibly done by now that's unchangeable," Becka pointed out dryly. "Except get my hopes up," I quipped. Giggling helplessly, Becka shook her head. "Whatever. Do what you want." "I will," I replied brightly. "And I'll see you Wednesday." "Yeah ... Wednesday," Becka mumbled, her gaze falling back to the ground as she fiddled with her hands. For a moment, I wondered if I should say more of it if that was just the typical awkwardness that came at the end of a date - something that would only be made worse by my lingering. Becka was probably just wondering if I was going to try to steal a kiss in spite of my promise or something like that. Best to just go before she noticed my stalling. Just as I started to turn, Becka called out, "Andy." "Yeah?" I asked as I spun back to her. Gaze still locked on the ground, the girl was fidgeting even more furiously. "I uhm ... I'm not sure what to do." That comment had me furrowing my brow in confusion. "About what?" "About ..." Becka began, really dragging out the moment, "... how I really want a good night kiss, but I made this whole big deal earlier about you not getting one, so ... yeah ..." Smirking, I shrugged. "Well, I wish I could help you, but I not only promised not to initiate such things, but even talk about them, so I suppose you'll have to come up with a course of action on your own." Becka winced. "I was afraid you'd say that." "Sorry," I apologized insincerely. Sighing, Becka forced her gaze up and her back straight, looking me right in the eye. "You're a terrible date." "Hey, now, there's no-" I began, but I ended up having to cut myself off as the girl stepped forward and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes. Then, her hands went up to grab my face and pull it the rest of the way down to hers. While technically a kiss, it turned out to not be much of one. Becka's lips had just barely brushed up against mine before they immediately pulled back. There hadn't even been time for me to kiss her back. "There. Night," Becka stated with robotic stiffness before she spun toward the door. Unfortunately, her efforts at a speedy exit were thwarted by the fact that said door was currently locked, denying her immediate entry. Instead, she had to fish out here keys right in front of me, her cheeks growing redder with every moment that it took. Even once she had them out, fingers made clumsy by nerves fumbled in their haste to unlock the door. Eventually, though, she did finally get the way open. Stifling my laughter throughout the whole affair, I called out, "Good night," just before the door's closing brought an end to the date. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Come on! Come on! No! Fuck!!!" Ryan growled in frustration as his animated avatar on screen dropped the pass. There was still time on the clock, but my team had possession now, and could just run it out. The game was essentially over. "Good game," I replied with what I knew would be annoying calm and grace as I had my quarterback take a knee. "Fuck you," Ryan muttered, tossing his controller aside. "This is stupid." "Oh? What are you gonna blame this time?" I inquired. "There's no park magic involved and you picked the game." "The cowboys," Ryan answered with the team he'd been playing as. "They should've done better last year, so I'd've had a better team." Thinking that over, I tilted my head from side to side. "That actually probably would've been enough. I did take the super bowl winners, after all." "Yeah, 'cause you're scum," Ryan insulted. "Just gotta win at everything." Laughing, I shrugged. "Whatever. You're the one that seems to care about winning and losing, acting all butthurt like this." "I'm butthurt 'cause you're unbeatable!" Ryan countered. "It's like someone made you in a lab to be the perfect asshole." Ignoring the insult, I offered, "Well, we could always switch teams and try again. Might get you that win you want." "Exactly what an asshole would say, trying to goad me into another defeat," Ryan commented. "You even have that obnoxious smug look on your face." "This is how my face always looks," I pointed out. "Yeah, smug," Ryan spat. Laughing, I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. You wanna go again or not?" "Nah, not right now," my friend answered. "I kinda want another soda, but you're kitchen is just so damn far away." "There's a mini-fridge in my room with some," I answered, standing up. "I'll go grab you one." "Seriously, your own mini-fridge?" Ryan huffed in exasperation. "I want your life." "Hey, look on the brightside, while we're friends, you basically get to have it whenever you want," I told him before turning to walk out of the room. The trip across the hall to my room didn't take long, but by the time I returned, my friend had a pensive look on his face as I handed him his new drink with a simple, "Here." "Thanks," Ryan mumbled absently as he popped open the can and took a long drink. Meanwhile, I sat back down on the couch and stretched my arms over my head. The tightness that came from a long period of tense, forward leaning felt great loosening up from that movement. Plus, it served as something to do while I thought of another activity to suggest. "Hey, you're gonna be a senior right?" Ryan checked. "Yep," I answered, letting my hands fall back to my lap. "Why? Jealous of that, too?" "No," Ryan answered seriously. "That would mean I was only a year from having to go to college." "Eh, college isn't so bad," I remarked. "Oh yeah, and how would you know?" Ryan questioned. "Don't tell me you're already taking college classes, too?" Chuckling, I shook my head. "No, I'm not that smart. I know because I have a brother and sister that have both been through it, and that's what they always said." "You have a brother and a sister?" Ryan asked with obvious surprise. "Yep, I'm the baby of the family," I confirmed. "They as obnoxiously perfect as you are?" Ryan inquired. I shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really see myself as that either, though. They're both smart and attractive, so you'd probably think so. Brother's a doctor in Chicago and my sister just got a job as an engineer in Boston." "Ah, so they're quite a bit a older, then," my friend surmised. "Yep," I upheld. "What about you? I haven't heard any stories about siblings." "That's 'cause I don't have any," Ryan answered. "My parents always said they couldn't even really afford to have me." That comment had me twisting my face up dubiously. "Really? What do they just have shitty jobs or something?" "Well, my dad has a good job as an accountant, but my mom doesn't work," Ryan told me, looking down somberly. "She was really sick when I was little; almost died. They were able to save her, but she still doesn't have the energy for a real job, and the treatment was really expensive. That's left my dad struggling to pay off the debt and everything else." Unsure of what else to do, I offered a weak, "Ah, sorry." Ryan shrugged. "It's fine. Well, it would be fine if it was just that, I could live without a car, but my parents are ... ugh. My mom resents what happened to her. My dad resents having to do all the work. They both take it out on everyone around them, so we're all just miserable." "That's suck, man," I empathized. "Eh, you get used to it," Ryan answered, adding a second shrug. "Anyway, I think I'm ready for that rematch." "With the team switch?" I asked. Grinning, Ryan nodded. "Yep, so you better get ready for an asskicking, bitch." Matching the other boy's grin, I leaned forward eagerly. "Oh yeah? Bring it on!" *********************************************** *********************************************** "No, pepperoni is the best topping!" Ryan bellowed. "No, bacon is!" I retorted. "Pepperoni!" Ryan shouted. "Bacon!" I came right back. Pausing there, the two of us spent the next moment just glaring at each other as hard as we could. Then, almost in unison, we both broke. After that, the argument was lost in a sea of laughter for several seconds. "You do at least like pepperoni, right?" Ryan inquired. I nodded. "Of course. I pretty much like any meat topping that isn't anchovies." "Good," Ryan replied. "Y'know what's really interesting, though?" I asked rhetorically. "Sometimes, changing into a girl changes which toppings I like. One time, I even ended up a vegetarian, and I couldn't even eat meat without feeling sick." "A fate worse than death," Ryan joked. Chuckling, I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but there are some upsides to it, too. Like, chocolate and other deserts tend to taste better, and flowers smell nicer, and all sorts of other things. I swear I even see some colors different. You can literally get a whole different view of the world." "Well, thankfully, I haven't noticed any crazy sensory changes as a girl," Ryan remarked. "At least, nothing significant enough to make me notice it." "Yeah, it's kinda inconsistent," I noted. "Some girls have really different perceptions and others are almost identical to my current ones." Ryan shrugged. "Sounds like a reason for me to stick to one girl, if you ask me." "Did you like what you went with last time?" I inquired. Twisting his lips, Ryan tilted his head back and forth. "Uhm ... yeah, I suppose. Smaller boobs were a lot easier to deal with, and I liked the feel of being in shape like that. It was like I had way more energy." Nodding along with my friends answers, I inquired. "Anything else you plan to try?" "Hmm," Ryan hummed thoughtfully. "I definitely want some more muscle next time." "Or you could just use a lighter ball," I teased. Frowning, Ryan shook his head. "It's not just the ball. Everything felt heavier than it should. I didn't like." "Well, you could just try something like my butch biker chick," I suggested. "That would give you muscle and height." "I don't wanna go that far, I don't think. Maybe just like an inch or two taller and like five or ten pounds heavier," Ryan answered before shrugging. "Of course, I guess it really doesn't matter when we agreed to do the whole dream girl thing the week after next." "There's no rush," I replied. "We can take longer if you want." Ryan shook his head. "Nah, this is one of those things that, if I don't just bite the bullet on it, I'll end up putting it off forever." "We could do that too, if you'd like," I offered. "I don't mind dating a slightly taller, fitter version of what you went with last time." "Except the dream girl thing was like the whole point of doing this," Ryan argued. "Otherwise, we could do something way less weird like just date girls at school." "Eh, that's not really true for me," I corrected. "As long as you look nice, that's good enough for me. I could still do the dream girl thing for you, though." "Doesn't really seem fair for you to have to do it and not me," Ryan pointed out. I shrugged. "Doesn't bother me any. Plus, just you doing this whole thing with me was kind of a huge concession on your part, so you could say it would just make us even." "Mmm ... I don't know ..." Ryan mumbled. "Well, you think about it," I told him. "Anyway, speaking of me and dream girls, how about I go ahead and start that up this week for ya?" Blinking in surprise, Ryan leaned back. "Seriously?" "Yep," I confirmed. "I mean, we already got past the first couple of awkward kisses and first dates. I think we're probably ready to go ahead and step it up - at least on you-boy me-girl side of things." Leaning even further back, Ryan gave me a dubious look. "Uhm ... you don't mean like ... " Unable to put it into words, my friend just sort of tapped his fingers together in a vaguely suggestive way. Screwing my face up indignantly, I asked, "Do you think I'm some kind of sex-crazed horndog?" "No?" Ryan answered uneasily. "Well then, why do you keep thinking I'm desperate to sleep with you?" I questioned. "I don't!" Ryan denied fervently. "It's just ... I don't know. Everything feels kind of ... uncertain and ... fast with this." Furrowing my brow, I mulled that over for a moment before saying, "I guess I see that, but I'm not trying to make things weird. I just feel like we've made good progress already." "I suppose we have," Ryan conceded reluctantly. "But, if you're not ready for that yet, I can just come up with something on my own for this week," I offered. "Uhm ..." Ryan stalled for a couple of moments, rubbing his chin. "How would it work exactly? Do I have to, like, describe what I want to you, 'cause that sounds like it'll be incredibly awkward." "Well, we could do that, or you could just come with me to the park and let Anya figure out what you want," I proposed. "Of course, that would mean I'd have no idea what I was getting myself into and no opportunity to argue against it, so it would be incredibly cruel." "Yes, it would be," Ryan agreed even as his lips curled into a wicked grin. "So, let's do that." *********************************************** *********************************************** Tapping my foot on the ground, I watched my friend's scheming with my arms folded across my chest. At the moment, Ryan was a good twenty or so feet away from me, courtesy of my having been ordered away. He was using the distance to whisper conspiratorially with Anya about what he wanted to do me. "I never should've offered this," I grumbled, but I didn't really mean it. Ryan was many things, but imaginative with the park's magic wasn't really one of them. On the other hand, I was, and I had had years to explore my limits. I doubted there was anything he could come up with that would be truly awful. There were, however, some things he could do that would be annoying, but all I could do about that without going back on our agreement was sigh and pray he had more sense. This was supposed to be a date after all. "Alright, you can come back!" Ryan called out. Rolling my eyes, I let my hands fall to my sides as I marched forward, while muttering dryly, "Oh, really? Thanks. I just can't wait to see what you've decided." "I can't either," Ryan declared with a grin. "So get to it, 'cause Anya says she's got it all set up." Even the witchy woman had a wicked sort of smile on her face as she added, "Yep, it's all ready for you, Andy." "Fine, whatever," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I turned toward the gate. "I'll be right back then." "Looking forward to it," Ryan called after me. Ignoring my friend's mildly malicious bent, I walked off without any hesitation. This was the sort of thing that was best gotten over with as quickly as possible. Otherwise, my mind would have time to play tricks on me by coming up with all sorts of terrible possibilities that would never happen, but could still induce fear. Swiping through the gate, I crossed over to the men's locker room and stepped inside. Quickly stripping down, I went right over to the shower. It was as my hand touched the knob, feeling the wet from a few drops of water that were clinging to it that I finally started to hesitate, but by then, I was far enough. A quick flip of my wrist brought water streaming down on me, guaranteeing at least two days as whatever Ryan had cooked up. The warm, massage-like tingle that came from the water pelting me tried to cloud my thoughts and get me to just stand there and pass by the exchange, but I was too anxious to fall into its hold. Instead, my gaze dipped down down, granting me a full view of whatever change awaited me. At least initially, nothing seemed out of place. I had watched a few change, and they almost always began the same way - a slimming of my frame and a steady approach of the floor as I got shorter. Both occured this time, as well. There was also the usual swelling of my nipples to more female proportions and the beginning of mounds underneath them. All of that was to be expected on the path to becoming a girl. The first oddity that caught my attention was how quickly the mounds on my chest stopped growing. I had been under the impression that Ryan prefered them big. He often checked out bustier girls. My current breasts, though, were very small, having seemed to only just start appearing when they stopped. As I tried to figure out what my friend's plan might be, other things started to invade my notice. In spite the fact that I was, by that point, fairly slim and notably shorter, there seemed to be no slowing down on either front. In fact, I got the impression that both were progressing more quickly. Normally, my manhood was mostly gone by the time I reached this sort of size, but it was only just starting to shrink away. "Why, you jackass ... " I muttered, briefly hearing a weird sort of in-between voice that was neither male nor female. Even from the start of those words to the end, though, it progressed more toward the latter. Pretty sure I knew what was up, I was left to just watch as the changes passed exactly as I now expected. The most obvious was a precipitous loss in height. I couldn't tell exactly how much, but it was over a foot. My lower limit had always been five-foot even, but I was pretty sure I was at least an inch or two shorter than that this time. To go with the diminutive height was a similarly petite figure. Small breasts were paired with slight hips, but both actually seemed fairly significant compared to my even slighter build. My waist and shoulders were tiny and my now slim limbs seemed devoid of anything that could even laughably be called strength. "Just great," I sighed out in a voice that was decidedly high and cutesy when the changes final came to a end. Shaking my head, I flipped off the water and marched out of the shower area to check my appearance in the mirror. Already having had a good look at my body, my attention went upward to a face that seemed almost to epitomize the word cute, especially with its big blue eyes and the way it was surrounded by a shoulder-length halo of blond curls. Combined with my tiny frame, I could've easily been mistaken for being several years younger than my seventeen, except when I thought about my age, it was unchanged. I was just a runt. "Alright, well played," I gave my friend due credit. From experience, I knew being so small and cute would be quite frustrating. Still, at least, it wouldn't be completely unbearable, which was a good thing since I had no way to undo it. Sighing, I turned away from the mirror to get dressed. There was a towel by my clothes to dry myself off, but those clothes ... Rather than something that would make me seem more mature - something a girl like this would actually wear - the items in question seemed hand- picked to make me look even more juvenile. There was a bra, but it wasn't padded or mature. There was a dress, but it was a white sundress which easily hid what minor curves I did have under its knee length and loose fit. It was also paired with matching, flat-heeled mary janes. "Great, all I need now is a lollipop and balloon," I remarked once I'd finished dressing and taken a look in the mirror. Even as I complained about my childish appearance, I was getting ready for what came next, though. Ryan might think he'd done a number on me, but there were advantages to this sort of appearance, at least in the revenge category. I doubted it would take me long to make him regret his choice. With such plans in mind, I tossed a wink at my reflection, spun on my heels, and walked right on out of the locker room. Outside, the world looked decidedly large, even the pair of young teens I passed along the way, who cooed behind me back over how adorable I looked. I didn't let that bother me, though, quite the contrary, I beamed out a bright smile as I bobbed along at nearly a skip right up until I left the park. "Well don't you look adorable!" Ryan called out mockingly as I came into view. Turning that way, I found Ryan grinning with delight. Anya as well was leaned forward on the counter, looking out at me with a rather amused smirk curling her lips. I let neither look nor the words perturb me, though. I just twisted about to stroll on over without my smile ever wavering. My smile ate at Ryan's confidence to the point where, by the time I reached him, he was no longer grinning, but squinting at me uncertainly. "Why are you smiling like that?" Stopping only a little over a step in front of Ryan, I had to tilt my head back considerably to look him in the eye. He wasn't even that tall a guy, maybe five-eleven, but he still clearly had more than a foot on me. That didn't stop my smile, though, especially not as I replied, "Because you made a bad move, mister," every word of which was exaggeratedly cheerful and cute. It was clear that Ryan wanted to deny that, but he seemed to find my demeanor too eerie to do so. Instead, he leaned back slightly as if I was an actual threat to him. "How so?" "Because people are gonna think you're a giant pervert when I do things like this," I answered, giving just enough warning for Ryan's eyes to widen before I leapt into motion. It was a very literally leap at that, as I crossed the small gap between us in one quick step then jumped up. My arms wrapped around Ryan's neck, allowing me to pull us the rest of the way together for a big kiss. The moment our lips met, I felt Ryan try to step back, but that wasn't going to work. My feet weren't anywhere close to the ground and I was latched on. All he did was drag me with him, just in time for the momentum from my jump to play out and my small, but not unnoticeable weight to transfer fully to his neck. Off-balance and midstep, Ryan didn't stand a chance. Of course, he tripped, and of course, he tipped over backward. That did break the kiss, allowing him to yelp as he tried to flail to regain his balance, but that wasn't going to happen, and I just held on for dear life. A moment later, we crashed into the ground, leaving Ryan groaning on the pavement and me sprawled on top of him. Through a tittering fit of giggles, Anya asked, "You two alright?" "Perfect," I cooed, I snuggling up against the fallen boy to nuzzle my cheek against his. "Isn't that right, mister?" "I hate you ..." Ryan wheezed from underneath me. "Aw, don't be a meanie-head," I chided as childishly as I could manage. "'Sides it's your own fault for making me look like this." "Yeah, yeah ... will you get off already?" Ryan demanded in frustration. "Sure thing, mister!" I chirped brightly before rolling to the side and springing right back to my feet with ease. Once I was up, I gave my dress an exaggerated dusting off. With a grunt, Ryan shoved himself to his feet, much more slowly than I did. He also wasn't as energetic once his was up, rolling one shoulder while he used the other hand to rub at his back. "You okay, mister?" I asked, keeping up the act even in the face of the boy's apparent injury. After all, it didn't look like anything more than some bumps and bruises. If it was, Anya wouldn't be laughing like that. "No," Ryan spat, tossing a glare at me. "Don't you have any shame? Can't you be like just a little bit embarrassed?" "Oh, well ..." I mumbled bashfully as I dropped my gaze to the ground. I even started toeing at the ground with one foot as if nervous. "I s'pose it was a bit embarrassing kissing a boy in public like that." Blasting out an exasperated growl, Ryan turned his attention away from me, leveling a glare at Anya, who's giggles had only been renewed by my most recent antics. "And you! You said this was gonna be good!" "Oh, and it is. So good," Anya assured him through her laughter, showing exactly who she'd thought it was going to be 'good' for. Ryan let out another growl at that answer, but his anger was pretty impotent. There was nothing he could do to Anya. He could maybe play some pranks on me while I looked like this, but only if he calmed down enough to think of that, which didn't seem likely. Especially ... "Cheer up, mister," I encouraged as I sidled up next to the boy and hugged his arm. "We're gonna have soooo much fun together." Those comments had a long, heavy sigh sliding out of Ryan. "Alright ... where are we going?" There, finally, I was thrown off my game, crinkling my brow as I took a step back to peer up at the boy. "Wait, you didn't have a plan for our date tonight?" "Well ... no. I mean, you always come up with stuff," Ryan pointed out. "And how was I supposed to do that when I didn't even know who I was going to be tonight?" I questioned. "Besides, I shouldn't have to always come up with date ideas." "Uhm ... good points ..." Ryan mumbled. Rolling my eyes, I gave the arm I held a slight tug. "Alright, come on. We'll think about it while we walk to the car." "Oh, alright," Ryan agreed, seeming ready to start off until a frown creased his face. Once it had, his gaze dipped to his captured limb. "Uhm ... can I have my arm back?" "Nope! Mine!" I declared, clinging to the appendage like a petulant child. Shaking his head, Ryan let out another sigh. "Fine. Let's go." *********************************************** *********************************************** Quiet reigned as I tested the club in my hand. Once, twice, thrice, it went forward only to stop short of the little, pink, dimpled ball before me. Then, a momentary pause, before finally, I swung. With a weak plonking sound, the ball rolled off down the short green straightaway. A moment later, it plonked again as it ricocheted off the back wall of the hole. Deflecting to the side, it kept going, losing what little power it still had while slowly, ever-so-slowly creeping toward the hole. It seemed for sure to stop before then, but somehow, with its last little rotation, it rolled in. "Yes!" I cheered, actually hopping up into the air with delight. Meanwhile, my date, observing from the side, chuckled and shook his head. "Unbelievable." "What? Did you think I'd be bad at miniature golf?" I asked before bounding forward energetically to retrieve my hole-in-one. "No, that doesn't surprise me at all," Ryan answered as he too started forward, moving more languidly to his own ball, which still lay in play. "What does surprise me, though, is how you can hop around all excited like that without feeling the tiniest bit of embarrassment." With a smile beaming on my face, I shrugged. "You're the one that wanted me to look like this," I reminded him before crouching down to retrieve my ball. Once I had, I sprang back up and hopped up onto the short containment wall around the hole. "Yeah, but I didn't make you act like that," Ryan pointed out while settling in for his own shot. "I mean, I'd be absolutely mortified to even be seen like that. Acting the part wouldn't even cross my mind." "Ah, well, perception is a powerful thing," I remarked. "Especially self-perception." Pausing his preparations, Ryan straightened up to toss me a quizzical look. "What? How does that work? We'd both see ourselves as immature, overly-cutesy, little girls, right?" "Well ... not exactly," I began as I started walking around on the edge of the hole, balancing carefully to make sure I didn't fall back into the play area. "You see, to you, you'd be a fairly macho guy stuck looking like an immature, overly-cutesy, little girl. For me, I just - am - that. There's no Andy rattling about in my head to ruin my fun. I'm just Adorable Abby out on a date playing putt-putt." "Really? No Andy at all?" Ryan questioned. I tilted my head back and forth. "Well, I wouldn't say none entirely, but I know how to keep out of my own way and have fun, even when my poopy-head of a friend tries to prank me by turning me into a midget. By the way, this isn't actually your dream girl, right?" "Why?" Ryan inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Would that bother you?" "No, but I would spend the whole time we were dating calling you a pervert," I remarked, glancing down at my tiny frame. "I would also be kinda surprise. This didn't seem to be your thing." "It's definitely not. I was just trying to mess with you," Ryan admitted. "Although, the exaggeratedly childish energy and mannerism does have some, purely platonic, charm." "So our kiss earlier wasn't steamy for you?" I teased with a grin. Smirking, Ryan shook his head. "Nope. Like kissing a relative." "Pity," I sighed. "I was really hoping to seduce you this week." Ryan started to laugh at that claim before a realization dawned on him, causing him to lean back and eye me uncertainly. "Wait ... seriously?" "I was gonna give it a shot. I mean, not like I thought we'd jump straight into bed, but I figured we'd at least graduate to making out," I admitted, adding a nonchalant shrug. "Pretty unlikely to even get that far, though, when I'm stuck with all the sex appeal of a teddy bear." Taken aback, Ryan managed a mildly bewildered smirk. "Well then, I guess my prank wasn't a total failure. It did, at least, ruin your schemes." "Well ..." I drew out the word as a mischievous grin curled my lips. "I could always just jump you anyway. That worked out pretty well earlier." "Tell that to my shoulder," Ryan remarked, rolling the joint in question. "It's still sore from that." "Aw, I'm sowwy, mister. I didn't mean to cause twouble," I mockingly apologized, affecting an innocently downcast gaze and body twist. The act got Ryan to snort out at laugh. "God, you're like some old- timey cartoon character." Abandoning the facade, I went right back to grinning. "It's actually been super fun." "Really?" Ryan asked. "Yep," I added with an emphatic nod. "I mean, I've tried out the whole extremely petite girl thing before, but it was a totally different experience. Looking like this in highschool is pretty rough. Everyone else either makes fun of you or ignores you, and you mostly just spend every moment feeling jealous of how much bigger and more mature everyone is. Even if you try to make jokes like this, people just mock you for being childish. With you around, though, I've got someone who can be in on the jokes with me, and I don't really have to worry about being ignored, 'cause we're literally on a date together." "Ah, makes sense," Ryan acknowledged before leaning forward to set up on his ball. "And speaking of dates, I should really take this shot, already." "You should, but don't miss," I cautioned. "You're gonna be real embarrassed if you end up losing with me like this." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Need some help?" Ryan asked, his voice far more amused than gracious. Giving one last try, I reached for the top, straining as far as my little body could manage, but I really wasn't even close. Sighing, I let my hand fall and spun toward my date to huff, "Yes, because some asshole thought I had no need of being over five foot." Snickering, Ryan rose from his seat at the kitchen table. "Actually, you're four-ten." "Whatever," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "You keep laughing, though, and I'm not gonna make you cookies." "Well, I don't really need cookies, and this is the first time this whole prank has actually troubled you," Ryan mused. "Plus, you could always just drag a chair over so you could reach." Shrugging, I started picking up the ingredients I'd gotten out so far. "Fine, I'll just put all this away then. No big deal." "Alright, alright, sorry," Ryan rushed to apologize once the threat became real. "What do you need me to grab?" "That big metal bowl," I told him, pointing up toward item in question. "Got it," Ryan answered, walking over to the cabinet. While my date took care of that, I set my ingredients back down and went about grabbing the last few items I needed. Fortunately, everything that remained was low enough for me to reach. That wasn't to say there weren't nuisances, though, especially how heavy the gallon of milk felt to my twig-like arms. Still, I did manage to get it all together. "Need anything else?" Ryan asked as he set the bowl down. "Nope, not in here," I replied. "You could go get everything ready for our movie, though, while I mix this up and throw it in the oven." "Kay," Ryan agreed, starting toward the door. "Don't forget you have to turn on the computer this time, too!" I called after him. "Got it!" Ryan yelled back just before he slipped out of the room. With my date gone, I was left to the task of turning the hodgepodge of items in front of me into cookies. Really, it was a pretty simple recipe, far from a challenge for someone with plenty of cooking experience like I had. The only difficulties in the preparation came from my physique which made the counter uncomfortably high and some of the objects awkwardly large to hold. I pushed through all of that, though, with only a few muttered complaints. After all, what really mattered was the outcome, specifically the joy I hoped to see on Ryan's face when he got ahold of some fresh, homemade cookies. It was to musings about exactly that which I worked, running quickly through the task. Within just a few minutes, I was sliding the tray into the oven. After that, all I had to do was toss everything in the dishwasher and give my hands a quick rinse before I was off after Ryan. Even without anyone to see it, I kept the energetic bounce to my steps that I'd played around with all day. Part of that was habit, but I was also just genuinely eager to get back to my date. In spite of Ryan's choice in my appearance, I'd enjoyed myself so far, and he seemed to have been doing so as well. I didn't want to lose that momentum. "Figure it all out?" I asked as hopped off the last step and turned into the basement theater area of my house. "Yep, just been waiting for you," Ryan answered from where he was already seated. "Great, then start it up!" I declared, moving over to sit next to him. "Oh, and the timer will be hard to hear down here, so don't let me forget the cookies. They take twelve minutes." "Got it and got it," Ryan agreed as pressed play on the movie. While the logos drifted by, I came around to take my seat, but I didn't settle for the one right next to my date. Nope, I went with the same one he was already in, sliding in between him and the armrest. "Hey! What are you doing?!" Ryan protested even as he subconsciously scooted away from me to make space. In doing so, he actually made it easier for me to slip into the gap, creating a snug but not unreasonable fit. "There are plenty of chairs around!" "But I like this one," I answered as I wiggled my butt to really settle into the spot. "I fit, it's cozy, and there's even someone to snuggle with." "What? We are not-" Ryan started to refuse, but he never got the chance to finish. Already thoroughly situated, I just let myself flop to the side, resting my whole upper body and head against my date. I even rubbed up against him for good measure. "Mmm, perfect." My antics elicited a heavy sigh from Ryan, but he didn't try to push me off the seat or get up or anything else he could have easily done to stop me. He didn't even bother to finish his protest. He just shifted around to make himself as comfortable as he could while sharing the seat. He even slid an arm around my shoulder. It wasn't exactly a passionate makeout session, but I was going to count it as a win for the evening regardless. After all, it was still a greater level of comfort and intimacy than we'd managed so far. *********************************************** *********************************************** "I'm just curious if it was a one time thing or not, 'cause I gotta say, it's gonna be way more awkward talking to you about it than just letting Anya do her thing," Ryan explained. "For you maybe!" I argued. Ryan rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Making you so tiny certainly ended up more awkward for me than you." "Yeah, but you'll get better at scheming if I let you practice it," I pointed out. "Sure, but at worst, it's just a couple days," Ryan countered. "I mean, look, you're already back to being able to reach the top shelf." That reminder of the difficulties that I'd had to endure because of my friend, minor as they might have been, did nothing to sell me on the idea. "Yeah, no, even two days of torture is still torture." "Fine, what if I promise not to be a jerk about it," Ryan offered. "You can even have the witch girl dig around in my head to make sure I'm being sincere." "First of all, I'm not sure she's trustworthy," I noted. Ryan chuckled. "I suppose she did sorta betray me for her own amusement." "Yeah, I'm not saying she's evil or something, but she's not exactly an impartial arbiter either," I agreed. "Secondly, though, I'm kinda curious why it bothers you so much just to talk to me about what you want? I mean, you have riffed with other guys about this sorta thing haven't you? I certainly have." "I have too. It's just ..." Ryan acknowledged only to trail off into a shake of his head. "I don't know. It's different when it's ... real. Like, I'm not just shooting the shit about some pie in the sky dream that will never happen in a million years. The girl I described might not even exist in the world, much less be someone I could get. With this, though ... it's just a sprinkle of water to make her real." Shrugging, I answered, "I woulda thought that would make you more eager not less. Finally getting to be in this kind of relationship has certainly made me more eager." "You don't say," Ryan muttered with a sarcastic bent to his voice. I smirked at my friend's words. "Something wrong with that?" "Uhm ... sorta?" Ryan commented uncertainly. "I certainly never expected a good-looking, straight guy to be so eager to get turned into a girl and cozy up with another dude." Furrowing my brow, I mused, "Is that the issue? Are you just not eager to meet your dream girl 'cause it would be me in there?" "No," Ryan answered simply, and seemingly genuinely. While that response was a relief, it didn't give me anything definitive to work with. "Okay, then what is it?" "It's ..." Ryan began, stalling for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. "Alright, so, when guys hang out talking about their dream girls, it's really shallow. I want her to be at least a blank outta ten with this handful of physical traits and usually the sex drive of a ten nymphomaniacs lumped together. Maybe throw some incongruous hobby on top of it, like a runway model who likes restoring old cars or whatever" Listening to the caricature of male bonding pulled a laugh outta me. "Alright, fair enough. Something wrong with that?" "No, it's fantasy," Ryan stated. "The problem is when you try to bring something like that into reality and date it ... there's just nothing there. I mean, sure, it would be great sex for a few days until she wore you out, but as someone to date and actually spend time with ... Well, you can't talk about restoring old cars forever." "True," I agreed. "But, that brings us back to the it's me in there. It's not like you have to come up with every little detail of this girl's background, personality, and habits. You just have to pick the blank outta ten with handful of physical traits part." "I know, but ... I guess I want the inside and outside to match?" Ryan clarified. "Like, it would be really weird if you looked like Gail but acted like Abby Temple." The absurdity of such an act got another laugh out of me. "That would be a little silly, but there's nothing wrong with silly." "Of course!" Ryan declared immediately. "It's just ... I guess I don't really have a good idea of what sort of girl I'm gonna be with, so it's hard to imagine what she'd look like. After all, that first time you were like a party girl, then you were this flirty sexy thing, then you had the butch biker chick, and last time the little girl. What all of that was an act and what was you?" Letting my gaze dip pensively, I answered, "I guess if I had to say, it was all me." "What?" Ryan asked with obvious confusion. I shrugged. "What can I say? People don't fit neatly into nice, little boxes, Ryan. It would be a lot easier if they did, but they don't. I'm gonna flirt with my date. I've been known to party. I am a guy half the time, so I'm probably more butch than most girls, and sometimes, I just like cuddling. I know. It's weird." "Huh ..." Ryan mumbled, a bit taken aback. "Well, that's not ... not the answer I expected." "What was?" I inquired. "That it was all mostly just to mess with me," Ryan admitted. "I mean, as a guy, you're pretty laid back and just kinda go with things, this whole oddball relationship aside. Even using a magic park to turn into a girl you just sorta seem to take in stride. I guess I was expecting that to be the real you." "Ah ..." I acknowledged. Such a deduction certainly made sense. I'd spent much less time around my friend as a girl than as a guy, and those girl times had been pretty wildly different from one another. Still, that wasn't exactly what this was about. "Do want it to be?" "Hmm?" Ryan hummed uncertainly. Looking my friend in the eyes, I asked, "Is that your dream girl, someone laid back that just kinda goes with things?" At first, those question seemed to only make Ryan more confused while he mumbled, "Uhm ..." Then, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wait, are you asking me that because you plan to act that way if I say yes?" "You agreed to this to date your dream girl," I answered. "Clearly, to you, that fantasy is more than just physical, so yes, if you want a certain personality, then I'll adopt it." Leaning back, Ryan blinked in surprise. "That has to be ... the creepiest thing I have ever heard, and that includes everything about a magic park that can rewrite reality and destroy people's memories." "Whatever," I huffed dismissively. "I was just trying to keep up my end of the bargain." "Well, for future reference, let's just go with my dream girl is not the sort of person to create some kind of false persona just to be with me," Ryan told me. "I like honesty." "Okay, since you like honesty so much, how about this," I remarked lightly before switching to an affectedly harsh blast of, "Stop being an indecisive jackass! I don't wanna spend another date getting pranked! And for that matter, you should fucking come up with a date idea once in your life!" Chuckling, Ryan nodded in agreement. "Alright, I get the point. I'm not gonna guarantee dream girl, but I'll try to come up with something good, both for you and for the date, next time you're on girl duty." "Great," I mumbled insincerely. "Oh, and speaking of girl stuff, you still going with the slight taller, more athletic idea for your next outing? I need to know what to plan around." "Uhm ... yeah, sure," Ryan confirmed. "If you were really serious about not wanting me to do the dream girl thing, too." "I was, and am," I answered. "Girl you is plenty hot, even with the small boobs." "Small? That's not what you said when you had 'em," Ryan pointed out smugly. "In fact, I believe your exact words were 'perfectly normal sized'." "Fine - smaller - boobs," I corrected myself. "Happy?" The victory had Ryan's lips curling up in a grin. "Yep." *********************************************** *********************************************** "So ... still at it, huh?" Anya remarked. Leaning against the counter while I waited for Ryan to get back from changing, I tilted my head to eye the woman suspiciously. "Yeah. Why?" "Just curious how its been going," Anya clarified. "Eh, a snag here or there, like what you helped Ryan with last time, but otherwise good," I answered. "Hey, don't blame me for that," Anya protested. "You told me to set up your change, so that you were whatever he wanted you to be." "Yeah, but you could've told him it wasn't going to work out like he hoped," I argued. "You know me well enough that you wouldn't even have had to use magic to know that." Grinning, Anya chuckled softly. "True, but you were just so adorable like that, especially as you teased him. I had to see it for myself." That claim had me rolling my eyes. "Whatever. It wasn't really that big of a deal anyway. Actually, it turned out to be a pretty good date, all things considered." "But not as good as you hoped, obviously," Anya commented. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have called it a snag." "Well, yeah, but I always have high hopes, and they're rarely met," I pointed out. "For all I know, you may have actually done me a favor." "That's certainly a possibility," Anya answered mysteriously before lazily lifting a finger to point off toward the gate. "Your date's back." Twisting about, I followed the gesture toward Becka, who had just left the gate behind to start coming over to the ticket booth. After last week, she was easily recognizable, having almost the exact same appearance as before. There were some subtle differences. She was a bit taller, now, maybe five-eight instead of five-six, and she had a little more meat on her arms and legs, both of which showed some decent muscle tone. Altogether, it worked well for her, creating an athletic but still quite attractive image. "Lookin' good!" I called out as I pushed myself off the counter to give my date a quick once over. "I like the changes." "Uhm ... thanks," Becka answered, glancing down at herself uneasily. "I feel kinda weird about it, myself." "Really?" I inquired. Lifting her gaze back up to mine, Becka shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know. I feel kinda ... big, I guess. It's weird. I know. I'm actually still smaller than I was when I went in there, but when I got a look of myself in the mirror, I still felt like I looked maybe a little too big. Does that make any sense?" "Sure, but I wouldn't worry about it," I reassured her. "You look great, and if we meet anybody that's gonna make fun of you for having some muscle on ya, you can just kick his ass." Chuckling, Becka tilted her head back and forth. "Well, I don't know if I'm quite that big." "Well, then I'll kick his ass for ya," I promised. That offer earned me a raised eyebrow from the girl. "You actually would, wouldn't you?" "You bet," I confirmed. "A guy's gotta stand up for his lady, after all." "Yeah, right, it's part of his job," Becka remarked with a sarcastic twist in her voice that was accentuated by a roll of her eyes. "Anyway ... I'm all girled up, so what'd'ya say we get this date going?" Not needing any more excuse than that, I turned to get going. "Sounds good to me." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Something wrong?" I inquired as I peered across the table at my date with some concern. Snapping her gaze back to me, Becka answered, "Hmm? No, why?" "You keep looking around like something's bothering you," I pointed out. "Don't like the restaurant?" Becka shook her head. "No, it's just ... we had motorcycle lesson, bowling, miniature gold, and now, dinner at a fancy restaurant. One of these things is not like the other." "Well, sorry if its too dull for you," I replied with a chuckle. "Unfortunately, we kinda live in a small town, so there's not that much to do. I'm trying to rotate stuff around, so we don't get too sick of any one thing." "It's fine," Becka assured me. "I was just thinking that maybe you had some trick up your sleeve, possibly revenge for spending a couple days as one of the wee people." Rather than answer directly, I twisted my lips in a grin and gave a vague shrug. "Maybe." "Great, thanks, that really helps," Becka muttered sarcastically, glancing around again in paranoid fashion. "As if I wasn't already tense enough." Not wanting my date to spend the whole evening worrying something was going to happen, I noted, "Well, as you may recall, I actually already got you back for that prank, remember? I sorta tackled you." "True, but you're a mischievous guy," Becka remarked. "You steal kisses. Abduct limbs. Nab half of a guy's chair, while using him as a pillow. You sorta like a relationship thief, really." "Oh, then have I stolen your heart," I quipped with exaggerated sincerity, even going so far as to lean forward and add an intense, smoldering stare. Naturally, those efforts had my date snorting out a laugh. "No. God, that was lame." "And calling me a relationship thief wasn't?" I countered. "No, 'cause you are one!" Becka insisted. "Hell, you basically swindled your way into the relationship to begin with." "I'm a swindler now, too?" I asked incredulously. "How did I earn that title?" "With all your fast talking and big promises with just that little bit of guilt sprinkled on top to complete the sale," my date described. I rolled my eyes. "Takes more than a sales pitch to be a swindler, Becka. I would have to not hold up my end of the bargain, too. Have I reneged on any big promises? Have I been forcing you to keep it up when you don't want to? Have I made you pay literally anything?" "Mmm ..." Becka hummed for a moment, narrowing her eyes. "Okay, I guess maybe swindler was a bit too strong, but I'm sticking by relationship thief." "Well, if you're gonna call me names, I should probably live up to them," I mused, raising a hand to rub my chin as I eyed my date. "What should I steal from you tonight? Another kiss? No, you've already given me one of those freely. But what then?" The reminder of how our last date in this configuration ended had Becka's cheeks brightening as she leveled a hard glare my way. "Nothing. That's what." "Oh, I see, so you plan to just give me what I want, then," I surmised with a shrug. "It lacks a certain thrill, but I guess that works." "All I'm gonna give you is a slap across the face if you keep it up," Becka warned. "I'm a girl right now, so I can get away with that shit." "True. I certainly have before," I confirmed. "I always feel kinda shitty about it, though, getting to just hit some guy 'cause I know he won't hit back. Of course, sometimes they do hit back. That's when you get yourself in trouble." "Has that actually happened to you?" Becka inquired. I nodded. "Yep. Some big, drunk guy got handsy at a party. I smacked him. He got pretty mad. Luckily, there were a lot of people around, so they stopped him pretty quick, but I still took a bad one across the cheek before they did. Dropped me like that." I added a snap of my fingers for emphasis. "Jeez ..." Becka breathed with a sympathetic wince. "That's exactly the sort of thing that worries me when I'm like this." "Getting beat up by some guy?" I asked. "Is that why you really wanted to be bigger this time?" "Yeah, sorta," Becka answered. "I mean, I realize it's pretty damn unlikely, and I'm not exactly some massive, expert fighter as Ryan, but I never feel vulnerable as him. I do like this, though." "You sure you're not just overcompensating for the fact that your first time you got drunk and nearly fucked some guy?" I noted. Becka shook her head. "No, I felt that way before that even happened - right from the get go, really. A lot of that was the park being super creepy, but even now that I'm mostly used to that place's existence, scary as that is in its own way, I still just feel a little vulnerable." "I see ..." I mumbled in acknowledgement, using the moment it took to say to think of a better response. "Well, I don't know if me saying this will help, but I am never going to do something like that to you, and I will definitely be there to protect you if someone else tries it." "I appreciate that, but needing someone to protect me is sort of the exact problem," Becka replied. "Yeah ... " I sighed, a little frustrated by that conclusion. There didn't seem to be anything that I could do to help with this particular problem, however. Still, this was only Becka's third time as a girl, so maybe she just needed more time to get used to it. At least, that was what I hoped. *********************************************** *********************************************** "So, I think I've got any idea about that whole dream girl thing," Ryan remarked as he leaned forward to take a bite of his taco. Pausing in the midst of my own effort to chow down, I looked over my food at my friend with brow raised. "Really?" "Mmhmm," Ryan hummed and nodded as he chewed. "Well, lay it on me," I directed, finally taking that stalled out bite. Still nodding, Ryan took another moment to swallow before he finally started into his plan. "Well, I was thinking you could turn into your dream girl." "Wha?" I blurted through a mouthful of food before I pushed it off to the side to ask, "You wanna get off to my fantasy? Now, who's being creepy." Chuckling, Ryan shook his head. "No, that's not what I mean. I'm not really talking that kinda dream girl." Swallowing, I asked, "Oh yeah, then what kind are you talking about?" "Let's say something broke with the park and you were either stuck as a girl for the rest of your life or couldn't turn into a different girl there anymore, just one from now on - whatever," Ryan hypothesized. "Whatever girl you want to be in that kinda situation is the one I want you to go with next time." I screwed my face up skeptically. "Sounds to me like rather than actually come up with an idea, you're just trying to foist the decision back onto me." "What?! No!" Ryan denied. "I really think this is a good idea. I mean ... we talked about this. I can't come up with anything without knowing who I'm coming up with it for." "Well, you could," I countered. "I just ask shit like tall or short and you give me your snap answer." After a quick roll of his eyes, Ryan tossed me an annoyed look. "Hey, you're the one that wants this whole weird thing to work aren't ya? Not me." Unfair as that point felt, I couldn't argue the truth of it. I was certainly more invested in the success of this relationship than Ryan was. He would gladly just go off and have a normal, boring relationship with some girl that would probably treat him like shit - assuming he could even snag one at all. I could try to tell him that it would end up being garbage that way, but he wouldn't listen. Defeated, I sighed out, "Fucking asshole." "Is that a, 'yes, I'll do it' or a, 'go fuck yourself'?" Ryan asked. "It's a, 'I don't have a fucking clue,'" I muttered in frustration. "I mean, it's not like I think about getting stuck as a girl all the time. Sure, I worried about it a bit the first time, but I was also just a little kid, so unless you've got a thing for elementary school girls, my thoughts back then aren't gonna help much, if I even still remembered them." "Really?" Ryan questioned with obvious surprise. "Yeah, really!" I exclaimed emphatically. "Why would I be thinking about that all the time? It's like those stupid deserted island questions about what movie you'd take if you can only get one. Guess what? I don't plan to get stuck on fucking deserted island!" That answer had Ryan cocking his head thoughtfully. "Hmm ... I never looked at it like that. You're just so ... intense when it comes to park-related stuff I figured you must think about it a lot." "Sure, I spend a lot of time thinking of new looks to try, and before this thing worked out I was also doing a lot to find people who might both remember and be fun to hang out with," I answered, waving a finger between my friend and me. "That's not the same as wondering what the ideal situation to get stuck in is." "Yeah, but you must have like a favorite ... uhm, body, I guess?" Ryan argued. "I have some favorites sure, but that's 'cause they're fun for a couple days, not necessarily for a lifetime," I explained. "I mean, I had fun being a stripper one weekend, but that doesn't mean I would ever consider lugging around twenty pounds of silicone for the rest of my life." "Jeez, twenty pounds?" Ryan gasped. "I don't know. I know the implants themselves were huge, and they were on top of a girl that was already really curvy naturally," I added. "I was basically a living Barbie doll." Eyes wide, my friend shook his head in bewilderment. "Fuck. Why did you even try that?" "Remember that girl we saw the first day I brought you to the park?" I asked. "The one with the skimpy suit and huge balloons on her chest?" "Yeah?" Ryan answered uncertainly. "The one you thought was some rapist that got punished or whatever?" "Yeah," I confirmed. "Well, I've never gotten a confirmation on this, but there's a rumor amongst the staff there that most of the girls down at the nearby stripclub are people like that, and it got me wondering what sort of life it actually was. Like wondering what being a prison inmate is like or something." Even as Ryan nodded in what appeared to be understanding, he had a decidedly queasy look on his face. "You're willing to go a lot further to sate your curiosity than I would be." "Eh," I responded with a shrug. "Nothing's really that bad when it's your choice and you only have to put up with it for a couple days." "I guess ..." Ryan mumbled, shaking his head. "Anyway, I see your point. It's a shame, though. I thought it was a really good idea." Sighing, I reluctantly mumbled, "Well, it wasn't like it was a terrible idea, and it's not like I couldn't think about it. Just really seemed like you were trying to worm your way outta making a decision." "I really wasn't. Honest," Ryan assured me. "I was still gonna come up with the date idea." "You were?" I asked, eyeing my friend uncertainly. Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I've actually already made the plans." "Oh really?" I pressed, even more dubious. "What's the plan then?" "It's a surprise," Ryan answered. Folding my arms, I peered at the boy with narrowed eyes. "Sure, it is." "It is!" Ryan insisted. "Like what d'ya think I'm gonna do just show up on Friday night and say I actually never came up with anything?" "Maybe," I replied. "Like I said, you do seem pretty dedicated to worming your way out of this." "I promise I'm not," Ryan swore. "In fact, if I don't have a plan on Friday, you can pick whatever girl you want me to be on Monday." Leaning back, I weighed that offer. "Oh really? You're that confident? Because I'll come up with something way worse for you than that pathetic, little prank you pulled on me. I can tell ya that." "I'm sure you could, but you won't get the chance, 'cause I already got a plan," Ryan stuck to his guns." After a moment's consideration, I nodded. "Alright, you've got a deal. I'll come up with this ... stuck as a girl thing and you bring the date plans. You renege, though, and your ass is mine come Monday. Deal?" Without hesitation, Ryan answered, "Deal." *********************************************** *********************************************** "All alone today?" Anya remarked, smiling brightly. "Hit a snag in your plans?" Scowling, I trudged up to the ticket booth, shaking my head. "Can we not play that game today?" "What game?" Anya inquired obnoxiously. "The game where you pretend you don't know everything and bat me around like a cat with a mouse," I replied with a sharp edge to my voice. The chipper smile on Anya's face softened to something more legitimately friendly and caring. "Sorry, but in spite what you might think, I don't keep track of every little detail in your life. Since you want me to be serious, I will be, but you still need to tell me about what." "Ah, sorry ..." I mumbled out a weak apology. In its wake, I took a big, deep breath to gather myself for the conversation ahead. "So, yes, you could say I hit a snag, but it's not something bad necessarily. Ryan just wants me to come up with a certain sort of girl to be." "Well, you've come with lots of those over the years," Anya noted. "Sometimes you've needed a little help, but it's never made you such a grouch." "That's because this isn't a two day vacation sort of thing," I answered only to tilt my head uncertainly. "Well, I guess it is. I'm still only going to be that girl for two days, but I'm not supposed to treat it like that. I'm supposed to come up with the sort of girl I'd want to be if I was stuck as one for the rest of my life." "Ah," Anya breathed in acknowledgement. "That is a different situation." "Yeah ..." I mumbled. "I'm not really sure what to do about it, either. It's not like my experience really translates that well. Lots of stuff's fun for two days, but probably a nightmare if you had to live with it for eighty years." Anya nodded. "That's true. Life is just days strung together, though, so you should at least have some idea. Something like spending your life dancing on pole isn't something your interested in, right?" "Yeah, but most of its not that obvious," I clarified. "Like, even something like just being hot or not. Being hot's great when you're only hot when you wanna be. In this hypothetical, I'd have to be hot all the time, dealing with assholes hitting me and leering and all the other shit. Is it still better than not being hot? Maybe?" My example earned a giggle from Anya. "Yes, that's a time honored complaint. As is the big boobs vs small, the tall vs short, the blonde vs brunette, and basically everything single thing in your life whether you're a boy or a girl. Nothing's all good or all bad." "Sure, but that doesn't help me figure out how to weigh the pros and cons," I countered. Anya shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I can't make judgement calls for you, Andy. All I can really offer is that people never really value what they have as much as they should, and tend to overvalue what they don't. The key isn't picking some perfect combination. It's thinking that whatever combination you picked is perfect." "Ugh, you're almost as useless as Ryan," I groaned in annoyance. "Can literally no one but me make a decision?" "You don't seem to be able to make one either," Anya remarked with a smirk. Narrowing my eyes, I tossed an exasperated look the woman's way, but it didn't seem to do anything. I was the only one perturbed here. No, I was frustrated - very, very frustrated. All I'd wanted was to keep true to my bargain with Ryan and it had somehow turned into this mess. "Actually, I can offer one more thing," Anya noted. Pulled from my aggravation, I looked up hopefully. "Yeah?" "Your problem isn't that you don't know the answer, but that you don't want to think about it," Anya explained. "You've always dismissed the idea of staying a girl out of hand, because you're worried that if you actually thought it through, it might ruin your fun." "That's nonsense," I huffed dismissively. "I've thought about what it would be like to stay that way, and I don't want to." Anya shrugged. "Then, maybe, you should try thinking about it as if you did want to." *********************************************** *********************************************** "This feels weird," I muttered as I checked my reflection in my car's vanity mirror. The little square didn't show much, but I didn't really need to see anymore by that point. "Maybe I should've gone with green eyes instead?" If I was being honest, I knew that if I'd gone with green instead of the pale blue I currently had, I would have just wondered the opposite. After all, I'd spent the last few hours in front of a mirror second guessing every choice I'd made. Should I have gone with bigger boobs? Smaller? Taller? Shorter? Skinnier? Thicker? What about hair color? Skin color? Bone structure? Nothing felt right, yet no alternatives seemed like they'd be right either. In the end, I felt like I was just a hodgepodge of things pieced together rather than some cohesive whole, but that might have been a testament to what I was used to regarding the park. In the past, I'd always chosen bodies that were focused toward some particular goal. If I wanted to be some dark, sultry seductress, every choice was made for that. If I wanted to be a big, butch bitch, everything was tilted toward that. Even times when things were out of my hands, like Ryan's prank had followed that norm. Only my default form, which I never used outside of my efforts to find someone else who could remember their change, was not so focused. Well, that and now, my most recent choice. "There's nothing you can do about it now, though," I told my reflection. "You might as well just go ring the doorbell already." While that was all very true, I still found it hard to pull my gaze from the mirror, flip the visor back into place, and reach for the door handle. Getting out of the car felt stiff and uncomfortable as did the walk to Ryan's front door. I even spent the entirety of the latter fussing with my clothes, which were at least properly stylish and flattering, as if I could make the body under them feel right just by changing how they sat. Of course, it didn't work, but it did occupy hands that were jittery with nervous energy until I had to call upon them to press the button. There was a hint of a shake in the one I used for that task, but soon, I heard the bell ring out inside. It was at that moment, that dread started to set in. My path was set. Any second, my date would show up and look at me. Even if I tried to run, I'd probably be too slow to actually get away. As if to prove that point, the door opened with shocking swiftness to reveal Ryan. He seemed eager at first, but then more surprised. At least, that was the impression I got before I quickly yanked my gaze toward the ground. "Hey," I mumbled. "Hey," Ryan mumbled right back, his voice sounding decidedly absent. Then, in awkward silence, I was left to stand there while the boy stared. I couldn't see him, but I knew that was what he was doing, assessing my appearance - every, single, little, incorrect decision that I'd made. It was like standing there naked. No, it was worse than that. I'd stood in front of men naked before even danced while being so and never felt more exposed than I did at that moment, like not just my flesh but my soul was on display, raw and uncovered. "So this is what you'd pick if you were stuck as a girl, huh?" Ryan mused. "I guess ..." I answered, although, right at that moment, I would have changed literally every single detail. My long, flowing, strawberry blonde hair would've been short and black. My pale blue eyes would've been green. My slight, five-four frame would have been an athletic six feet. My large breasts and smooth curves would've been much flatter and straighter lines. Even the cutesy sort of beauty my face held would've been swapped out for something striking, even as far as handsome. At that moment, it didn't really matter what the end result was as long as it was different. "I mean, it's just a first try, so if there's something you don't like or I don't-" "No, I didn't mean anything like that," Ryan interrupted. "It's not quite what I expected, but ... yeah, I wouldn't change anything. You look great." I couldn't tell if that was a sincere compliment or just some empty nicety, but my face flushed with heat regardless. "Oh, uhm ... okay then," I muttered, hugging my arms to me as I glanced back over my shoulder. "So ... did you hold up your end of this and come up with a date plan or are we just gonna stand here or what?" "I did come up with a plan," Ryan informed with a chuckle. "I know! It's crazy! How could I possibly have managed to make a decision on my own?! But, I did!" "Great, then, uh, let's get going. Here," I replied, unfolding my arms to toss the keys toward Ryan. From the scrambling sounds I heard, it was a pretty bad throw, but I didn't bother to check. By that point, I was already spinning to walk back to the car. I didn't hear the clatter of metal hitting the ground so my date must have been able to catch them. Fumbling to catch the keys left Ryan a few steps behind me, but while I trudged back slowly and hunched over, he jogged to the car. In the end, we got there about the same time, a fact proven by the fact that when I reached for the door handle, my date's hand darted in to intercept. "Here, let me." Surprised, I jerked my hand back. My mumbled, "Oh ... okay," and couple of steps back followed a moment later, clearing the way for Ryan to pull open the door for me. "Thanks," I added as I slipped into the passenger seat. With me taken care of, Ryan quickly closed my door then hurried around to the other side to take the driver seat. "So, I see you still have the mustang," he remarked as he started up the car. "Was that for me or just how things happened to work out?" "Uhm ... for you, I think," I answered. "You think?" Ryan asked, glancing my way. I shrugged. "Yeah, I told Anya weeks ago to make sure I always kept it, unless I said otherwise, and I didn't think to say otherwise this time, so that's probably why it's here." "Ah," Ryan acknowledged as he got the car moving. "You should tell her not to do that next time." "Why?" I questioned, looking over at my date. "Are you that sick of it? Wanna try a porsche or something?" Gaze on the road, Ryan shook his head. "No, I'm just kinda curious what sort of car this version of you would've picked." "You know it's not a big deal to me what I end up with," I pointed out. "I know," Ryan affirmed. "Like I said. Just curious." Lacking a way to argue with that answer, I shrugged. "Alright, I'll try to remember." "Thanks," Ryan replied. In the wake of that response, silence fell over the conversation in the form of the music from the stereo. Normally, I'd pop in with something to get us talking about, but I didn't, and expecting Ryan to take the initiative was foo- "So, you excited for this?" Ryan asked. Surprised, I looked up at the boy. "What?" "To find out what the mystery activity is gonna be," Ryan clarified. "You've gotta be thinking, 'Ryan came up with it so it can't be that great,' right?" "Not really," I answered. "I just didn't think you'd come up with something at all, and I suppose that could be the case, and you could just be driving us around while you stall for time." Ryan chuckled at that indictment. "I'm not that indecisive. Plus, I got something good this time, something I think even someone like you, who tries basically everything, probably hasn't done before." "Really?" I remarked, raising an eyebrow in intrigue. "Hopefully, anyway," Ryan pulled back a bit from his claim. Giggling, I answered, "Well then, I'm excited to find out." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Ugh ... jesus this is taking forever ..." I groaned with a mixture of boredom and impatience. "How much further." Chuckling, Ryan promised, "Just, like, another minute or two." Of course, such a promise still felt intolerable to me. A lifetime in a small town had left me used to having pretty short drives to places, but this one had proven to be nearly an hour long. First we'd had to drive across town, then out along a rural road. What could even be out this far into the middle of nowhere that would actually be any fun? Still, I did fall silent to wait while glowering out the front window. Fortunately, Ryan proved to be pretty honest. Before long, he was announcing, "Here we are," as he turned the car down a long, windy driveway. At the far end of it, I could see what looked like a little farm house. "A farm?" I questioned incredulously. "What are we gonna ride horses or something? Milk cows?" Chuckling, Ryan shook his head. "Nah, something with a little more kick." "Moonshine?" I tried. "'Cause I've definitely had that before." "Of course, you have," Ryan remarked sarcastically. "But no, it's not moonshine, either." "Then what is it?" I demanded. "You'll see," Ryan answered with a mysterious grin on his face. Rolling my eyes, I let out a frustrated sigh, but I didn't bother to press further. I'd spent this long suffering for the mystery, after all. I could endure a little longer to actually get the payoff. Pulling the car to a stop on a patch of gravel, Ryan got out and lead the way to the house with me following a step behind. There, he stopped, not to ring the bell, but to pound on the solid wood of the door as hard as he could before shouting, "It's the police! We've gotcha surrounded!" That earned him a bemused look from me when he turned my way, but he just shrugged and said, "Inside joke." "Really? 'Cause it sounds to me like you dragged me out to some crime lord's house in the middle of nowhere to dismember me or something," I remarked. That guess had Ryan laughing heartily. "Nah. Worst thing that happens out here is smoking weed." "Exactly what a body-carving murderer would try to claim," I pointed out with false skepticism. Before Ryan could respond with anything but more laughter, the door opened, revealing an older, slightly haggard looking man with bloodshot eyes. "Unca!" my date blasted out as he stepped forward to give the man a big hug. "RyRy!" came the man's reply as he returned the hearty embrace for a moment before the two separated. When they did, his attention immediately turned to me, sweeping an appraising gaze from head to toe. "This your girl, RyRy?" "Yes, sir. Abigail Harper," Ryan introduced me. "She way too good for you, boy," the man remarked. "I know, but luckily, she puts up with me anyway," Ryan answered with ready sincerity that had my cheeks heating up. "Luckily? That's like a whole lifetime's worth of luck," the man declared as he continued to look at me, the duration and manner of which was starting to edge into uncomfortable. Reaching out, Ryan smacked the older man on the shoulder. "Yeah, so stop trying to ruin it by creeping on her." Finally and to my relief, the man's gaze jerked away from me. "Sorry, sorry. Just didn't expect my no-good nephew to bring such a pretty girl with him." "What did you expect me to bring?" Ryan demanded. "A landwhale complete with a blowhole on her that could strip a man's flesh from his bones as she screams," my date's uncle declared. "Certainly not something this quiet and lovely." "Well, I'm not always this quiet," I remarked, adopting a faintly evil smile. Chortling with delight, the older man nodded. "Yeah, I bet," he told me before turning back to his nephew. "Anyway, you didn't come all this way to see me, so I'll get outta your hair. Everything's all set up for you in the back. Just remember to clean up properly when you're done. Stuff's on the kitchen table." "Sure thing," Ryan agreed. "Thanks, Unca." "No problem," the boy's uncle replied. "You two have fun." "We will," Ryan promised. With that said, the older man turned and walked back into the house, closing the door behind him. The moment the door clicked closed, I turned to offer my date a mildly surprised look, "So you have a redneck uncle?" "Yeah, my dad's older brother," Ryan explained, before beckoning me to follow him. "But we're not here for him, so come on." "Ah, yes, this mysterious backyard of fun. I can't wait," I remarked facetiously. Chuckling, Ryan turned to start walking with me falling in beside him as he responded, "Well luckily you don't have to wait for long. Just another couple steps and ... Ta da!" Ryan rattled off as we walked down the side of the house and turned the corner. At first, the big reveal fell flat for me. All I saw was a picnic table near the house and then, a fair distance away, what appeared to be an assortment of scrap metal. Only after a moment did I realize that metal was too uniform in shape and placement to be scrap, and there were a few items on the table that looked to be ... "Is that a shotgun?!" I blurted as realization dawned on me. "Indeed, it is!" Ryan confirmed he swept forward to scoop up the old- looking side-by-side double-barrel that lay on the table. "Belonged to my grandfather. The Colt Peacemaker and the '73 Winchester, though, are reproductions my uncle bought. He's big into cowboy stuff." "So, I see," I remarked as I drifted closer to examine the items on the table. There were the three guns my date had mentioned but also several boxes of ammo, some paper targets, and what looked to be a couple pair of headphones. "Yep," Ryan confirmed proudly. "So ... ever shot a gun before, sheltered rich girl?" Pulling my gaze away from all the hardware, I shook my head. "Nope. You succeeded in finding something I haven't done." "Ah, but the more important question is, it something you want to do," Ryan noted expectantly. "Definitely," I declared. "I can't imagine how this wouldn't be fun." "Great!" Ryan declared, obviously pleased with himself. "Then, we need to start with a few rules, 'cause I don't wanna get shot today." *********************************************** *********************************************** Crack! Ping! Click! Crack! Ping! Click! Came the sounds as I swept the Winchester in my hand from shot to shot. They came fast and precise, creating those satisfying pings when bullets slammed into steel targets, followed by an oddly also quite satisfying lever movement before I lined up for the next shot and fired again. Of course, there was a problem with such fluid speed. It wasn't long before the cycle broke, as what should've been a crack turned into a click, the sound of being out of ammo. That put a slight frown on my face as I lowered the point of the weapon. "Wow ... I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're good at this like everything else, but damn!" Ryan remarked in the wake of the shots, having to speak loudly to be heard over our ear protection. "You sure you haven't spent some time as an Annie Oakley type at some point?!" Smirking, I shook my head. "Nope, closest I've been to a gun is in a video game!" I assured him before I turned to walk over to the picnic table to reload. While I fed rounds into my rifle, Ryan stepped up to take his own turn with the targets. He did so with the six shooter holstered at his hip and his hand twitching right above it like he was about to be in a quickdraw shootout. Then, he burst into motion, yanking the weapon out and up as his other hand came over. Much faster than I'd been able to work my lever-action, he dumped all six rounds down range, but the speed had its costs, because I was pretty sure I only heard four hits on targets. It also left him out of ammo almost immediately. "Eh, five of six. Not bad," Ryan declared as he holsted his pistol and pulled off his ear protection. Removing my own headphone-like set, I glanced back over my shoulder at the boy. "Five? Wasn't it four?" "No, I'm pretty sure it was five," Ryan insisted, walking over to get started on his own reload. "And I'm pretty sure you're full o' shit," I retorted. "Why you gotta call me on it like that?" Ryan question. "What? Just gotta show me up at my own range?" I tossed him a skeptical look. "It's your uncle's range." "Same difference," Ryan huffed. "And, you could just take some time to aim, if how many hits you get matters that much," I pointed out. "But fanning 'em off as fast as you can is why I like this one the best," Ryan explained, eyeing the pistol affectionately. "It's even better than my uncle's Glock." "Glock? I don't see a glock here," I mumbled, glancing over the table just to be sure. "That's 'cause he doesn't like other people shooting it," Ryan informed me. "I've only gotten to a couple times, and really, it's not that great. It does hold a lot more ammo than the rest of these, though." That last point had my eyebrows rising as I asked, "Even more than this?" while pointing down at the rifle I held. To my surprise, the rifle had proven to hold sixteen shots, which seemed incredible given its lack of any sort of external magazine. By comparison, the shotgun only held two, one for each barrel. "Well, not a lot more than that," Ryan admitted. "But that's my least favorite of the guns." "Really? I think it's my favorite," I questioned, eyeing the weapon. "Oh? Why's that?" Ryan inquired. "Well ... the shotgun requires too much reloading and was kinda awkward for me," I noted. Ryan chuckled. "You mean it almost knocked you over when you shot it." The unwelcome reminder had me narrowing my eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean." "What about this?" Ryan asked waving his Colt. "Why isn't this your favorite?" Glancing over at the pistole, I shrugged. "I like the lever more than the hammer. Plus it's easier to hit what I'm aiming at with this one," I explained before closing the breach on the weapon in my hand, sliding off my seat, and starting toward the range. "And speaking of aiming, I'm all loaded, so I'm going again." "Don't forget your ear-pro!" Ryan called after me, picking up the item that I'd left behind at the table. Lurching to a stop, I spun back around to grab the headset with a pleasant, "Thanks," and a self-conscious smile. *********************************************** *********************************************** "A number three, please," Ryan requested of the clerk behind the counter. "And a number one," I added, immediately twisting to the side to reach into my purse and pulled out my card to pay. My hand had barely gotten into the bag when Ryan reached out to grab my wrist gently. "Nah. It's alright. I got it." Stopping my search, I looked up at my date incredulously. "Seriously?" "Yep," Ryan confirmed as his free hand offered a few bills to the clerk. Bemusement twisting my face, I just shrugged and let the boy pay. The occurrence didn't leave my mind, though. It clung there while I filled up my cup all the way to when our number was called and Ryan grabbed the tray of food. It was on our way to a table that I remarked, "Y'know that wasn't necessary, right? I don't mind paying." "I know, but it's not fair for you to have to do it all the time," Ryan told me as he found a table and sat down. Sitting down as well, I eyed the boy like he was talking crazy. "Really? It's not even actually me paying, though. I don't work for it or anything. My parent's just dump money in my account, and it's not like I'm gonna run out." "I know. It's just ..." Ryan began only to trail off into a quick sigh. "It kinda bothers me that I never do anything. Like, it's not just paying for stuff, either. You always pick me up and drop me off, too." "Yeah, 'cause you don't own a car," I pointed out the obvious. "Still, it's not like I couldn't ask to borrow my dad's car now and again," Ryan countered. "Same thing with paying for dinner. I mean, I have money, not a lot, but enough that I can cover the occasional burger on a date." While there was something of a point there, I didn't find it to be a very good one, screwing my face up skeptically. "Alright ... but it's a lot easier to just let me take care of that stuff. Plus, you get to keep your money for ... well, stuff I don't pay for, whatever that might be. A game maybe? New clothes? Maybe some sense for that empty head?" My list got a chuckle from Ryan. "I don't think you can buy sense, although, maybe I could put my change up there and let it rattle around," he replied, taking the coins that remained after his purchase and setting them on his head. "What d'ya think? Have I got anymore cents now?" Giggling, I shook my head. "Nope. I think you may actually have lost some." "Damn," Ryan cursed with faked disappointment while tipping his head forward to drop his coins back in his hand. "Then I guess I'm screwed on that front." "Sure seems that way," I agreed with a smile. "But seriously, I really don't mind handling the car and cash requirements, so save yourself the money and having to deal with your dad." "Yeah, okay ... I guess that works," Ryan relented, obviously not all that happy about it. "Exactly," I affirmed. With a shrug, Ryan scooped up his burger, unwrapped it, and chomped down for his first big bite. Mirroring that action, I got my own burger ready to eat, but I did so slowly and absently, more interested in watching the boy across from me than in a timely meal. That interest came from his silly insistence on paying, an act that had made absolutely no sense. I didn't want to him to do it again or anything. Just knowing that he felt that way was enough. *********************************************** *********************************************** "So ... how'd I do?" Ryan asked as he and I came to a stop at his front door. "Fun date?" While I had certainly had lots of fun, I affected a disinterested shrug. "I'd call it passing, I suppose." "What?!" Ryan exclaimed incredulously. "Don't give me that! I know you had fun!" "Yes, but you also know I did half the work," I pointed out, folding my arms. Such a claim had Ryan screwing his face up. "Huh? I came up with the date, drove us there and back, and even paid for dinner. How did you do half the work." "I had to decide what I was going to look like," I answered. Leaning back, Ryan blinked in surprise. "What? But you agreed to that." "Yes, but only because you shirked your responsibility," I countered, tilting my head up and away. "Therefore, I did half the work." Clearly stumped, Ryan just stared at me with his mouth hanging open. He spent a full beat like that before he finally came to terms with the situation, chuckling and shaking his head. "I guess you're right." "Of course, I'm right," I told him haughtily. "But you were also right about something," I continued, losing the arrogant tone along the way, "I did have a lot of fun." That admission put a grin on Ryan's face. "Well, that's something, at least." "Yeah ..." I murmured, gaze falling to the porch. Immediately, silence sprang up to fill the gap in conversation that had been left there. Ryan made no effort to beat it back, and I couldn't think of anything else to say. The date had been fun, but that hadn't stopped this awkward moment. Should I just kiss him good night? Should I wait for him to do it? Would he even do it? Other than the night he was drunk, I'd always had to initiate things. Well, when he wasn't Becka anyway. "I really appreciate you doing that for me, by the way," Ryan's voice broke the silence. Pulled from my thoughts, I looked up with brow furrowed. "Hmm?" "The whole letting me shirk the dream girl thing," Ryan clarified. "It was a big help." "Oh, sure, whatever," I muttered dismissively. "I only care about that stuff, because I want you to be glad you agreed to this." "I know, and I am, but ..." Ryan began only to trail off for a moment. "It really helps a lot to have a solid image of who I'm dating to go off of. Every other time we've done this, it always kinda felt like you were in costume, y'know. You were still Andy, and that was who I was always picturing when I thought about you. I'm sure you can imagine how picturing a guy on dates would be a problem. Anyway ... today, Abby ... felt more like a real person, I guess. You weren't putting on some act or being a caricature or anything like that. It was just, like, you. I liked that." "Oh ..." I mumbled, letting my gaze fall back to the ground. That didn't stop the sudden heat I felt in my cheeks, though, nor my hands from fidgeting in front of me. "So ... I guess that means you want me to keep this look for next time?" "Yeah," Ryan confirmed. "I mean ... if you weren't happy with something about it, go ahead and change what you want, but just not on my account." "Except the car thing," I noted, trying to force some levity into my voice and failing. "Hmm?" Ryan hummed in confusion. I shrugged. "Y'know, the thing about not making sure I always keep the mustang." "Oh, right, yeah, except for that," Ryan replied. "Well, unless you want to keep the mustang for yourself, then go ahead. I just don't want it to be for me." "That sorta been a theme today, huh. Not wanting me to do stuff for ya," I mused sourly. "I guess ..." Ryan allowed reluctantly. "But that's not really the point I'm trying to make. I want us to do stuff for each other, not just you doing things for me, and speaking of, there is one thing I would like ..." "Oh, what's th-?" I started ask, even lifting my gaze to look at my date in my eagerness to know. That put me in perfect position for his next move. A step forward stole the space between us as his own head tilted down and his hands swept up to hold my face. Then, we were kissing. While far from the first time the two of us had kissed, the vast majority had been quick and rather chaste. The only exceptions were when he was drunk or I was teasing him. All the genuine ones had been like that. This one, though, was not. Ryan was far more into it this time, really pressing his lips up against mine even as his hands held me in place so that I couldn't break off, at least not without a concerted effort. However, I wasn't going to put up such an effort. At first, that was because of surprise and confusion, but as the moments ticked by, it was because I was just as eager to stay involved as he was. I even tossed my hands over his shoulders, using his solidity to partially support my weight as we continued. After several seconds, Ryan finally broke contact, but it didn't last for long. We both just sucked in a quick, much-needed gasp of air, then he went right back in. This time, we went even further, lips parting to let tongues get involved. For several more seconds after that, we just made out on his porch, completely unaware of time or place until the sound of an engine revving broke the moment. In unison, we both jerked back from one another, faces flushing. The car that had interrupted us pulled out of a nearby driveway, it's driving seemingly unaware of the interruption that he'd participated in. He soon drove away, but even in his absence, the mood seemed lost. "So ... uhm ... yeah ..." Ryan stammered awkwardly, rubbing at his the back of his head. "Good night ... I guess," I managed to do marginally better. "I'll, uh ... I'll talk to you later." "Yeah, of course, and ... thanks for the ride," Ryan replied. "Of course. No problem," I told him, adding a quick nod and a clipped, "Night," before I turned to go. "G'night!" Ryan called after me. I didn't turn around to embarrassed of how red my face had to be to let it be seen. I did throw a wave over my shoulder, though. After that, I quickly hurried to my car, plopped in the driver seat, and started it up. As soon as the engine roared to life, I took off, not wanting to linger. My mind, though, stayed behind, a giddy mess locked on thinking about the feel of Ryan's lips. *********************************************** *********************************************** "What's wrong?" Becka inquired, at first sounding genuinely concerned, but then, her voice twisted cruelly. "Still butthurt about losing?" "No," I muttered as I steered the car back toward my date's house, sounding very much like I was lying, but I really wasn't. The obvious falseness of that claim had Becka giggling in amusement. "Yes, please, more tears. I love the salt." "Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can," I told her. "You lose at like ninety-nine percent of the things we do." "Ah, but this one percent meant so much more," Becka continued unabated. "After all, this time we made it interesting. This time, the great Andy not only put up but had to shut up, too. And how did that feel, huh, having to sing I'm a Little Teapot for my amusement." "Not as awful as listening to you gloat about it, I'll tell ya that," I retorted. All my comeback managed was to elicit some wicked cackles from the girl. "Yes, mmm, that's the best part. You're never gonna live it down. For the rest of our friendship, I'll get to lord this over you." "Again, you lose ninety-nine percent of the time," I reiterated. "Doesn't matter," Becka dismissed out-of-hand. "You'd think it would, but nope. I mean, after all, trying to lord that over me would just make you a jackass." "Oh, and you don't think you're being a jackass right now?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised. "Oh, I am, but as you like to point out, it's only one percent of the time," Becka explained. "You'd ninety-nine percent jackass." Chuckling, I shook my head. "Whatever. Honestly, even with the gloating, I'm glad you won. I was gettin' kinda tired of you constantly whining about how awesome I am. After all, why should I suffer? It's not my fault you suck at everything." "Not everything!" Becka interjected, pointing a finger at herself. "Skee Ball champ, right here!" Another shake of my head followed with another, "Whatever," leaking from my lips as I pulled the car to a stop. "We're here." "Huh? Oh," Becka mumbled, twisting about to look outside where she found her house waiting. "The castle of the skee ball queen." "Yep," I agreed before shoving open my door to get out. A moment behind me, Becka exited the vehicle as well and started toward her house, leaving me to have to hurry for a couple steps to catch up. "Guess that means another date is coming to a close." "Sadly," I acknowledged wishing it would last a little longer. "Did you have fun?" "Kicking your ass?" Becka questioned, glancing over at me with a smug grin. "Definitely." "Good," I answered with a chuckle. Perfectly timed with the end of that topic, Becka and I stepped up onto her porch and drifted to a stop. Our conversation drifted to an end as well as we turned to look at one another. A brief moment passed right there before I stepped forward, leaning into a kiss. While I'd intended some passion and maybe even another transition into making out like our last date, Becka clearly had other ideas. She didn't quite keep it to just a peck, but she did keep it short, pulling back far too soon for my liking. As she did, she had her hands up as if she thought she was going to have to ward me off. "Good night, Andy," Becka whispered, her gaze on the ground not me. For a moment, I was decidedly put off by that, even a little angry, but reason quickly cooled my head. The situation was different from last night. Just because Ryan was ready for something didn't mean Becka was. I had to accept that, not try to rush things. That would only cause trouble. Forcing a smile onto my face, I nodded. "Yeah, g'night, Becka." Nodding right back, my date turned toward the door, quickly unlocking it so that she could slide inside. Then, I was alone on the porch, feeling another rush of frustration course through me. A shake of my head quickly drove it away as I turned to go back to my car. "Stop worrying about it. You had fun," I told myself along the way. In spite of that, though, I spent the whole ride back to my house trying to think of what I needed to do differently to help Becka along. *********************************************** *********************************************** "All alone again?" Anya remarked as I walked up to the counter. "That mean you're gonna be a grouch again, too?" Smirking, I shook my head. "Nope, and sorry about being one that time, too." "No problem," Anya assured me. "How'd it go anyway? Did the new Abby work out?" "Uhm ... yeah," I answered. "It'll probably take me a little getting used to, but Ryan seemed to like her a lot." Anya raised an eyebrow at that claim. "He did, did he?" "Yeah, I guess it's really no surprise either. Ever since finding out what this place can do, he's had some issues with what's real and what isn't. The new Abby apparently feels more authentic to him," I prattled, only to furrow my brow at my own answer. Authenticity, huh ... "Makes sense," Anya acknowledged. "That mean you're going with the same look today?" "Uhm ... hmm ... " I hummed, switching tracks in my head. When I'd driven up, I'd actually had plans to make some tweaks, but now I was wondering if I should. I doubted that any of the changes I'd been considering would've even been noticed, but what if they were? Would I mess something up? Maybe I should mess with things a little? While I thought, Anya's lips curled into a smirk. "Still a little indecisive, aren't ya?" A little embarrassed to be caught pondering like that, I shook my head and turned my attention back to the young woman. "Sorry. This was an unexpected success, so I'm not really sure what parts are too important to change and everything." "Would you like some advice?" Anya inquired. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Will it actually be useful and not some vague riddle?" Laughing light, Anya just dove right into her counsel, "Worry less about what you think Ryan wants and more about who you want this girl to be. You got pretty close last time, but you're not quite there yet." "But the whole point is making sure Ryan wants to keep doing these dates," I pointed out. Grinning knowingly, Anya shrugged. "Fine don't listen to the girl that can see people's inner thoughts and look into potential futures. She couldn't possibly know what she's talking about." "Okay ... fair point ..." I allowed reluctantly. "I'm still not really sure what you mean by that, though. I don't want to be this girl." "Exactly," Anya answered. "The whole point was to pick a girl you would be happy to be stuck as." "But I don't want to be stuck as any girl," I argued. "It's not about something you want more than you what you have now, but what you'd want in that situation," Anya clarified. "Got it?" While I wasn't too certain, I nodded. "Yeah, I think so." "Good, then what do you want to change?" Anya asked. Furrowing my brow, I started to mull over that very question even as I pronounced the first item on the list, "Well, for starters, I don't want you to make sure I keep the mustang anymore ..." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Maybe I overdid it a little," I remarked, looking down at myself uncertainly. The view was certainly notably different from the week prior. Some of that was a change in physique which had let to me having a less petite, more solid and athletic frame. That had also demanded a commensurate increase in my curves to keep my proportions relatively the same. It wasn't quite perfect, though. Yes, my figure was no less dynamic, but it was also thicker overall a fact that was made only more noticeable because of my choice of attire. Outside of the one time Ryan had chosen my appearance, my clothing choices were always rather similar when I spent time as a girl. They were the standard stylish fair for someone my age to wear during the summer, tight, name-brand, and pretty revealing. Even Gail had worn skin-tight jeans and a low-cut shirt, both in expensive brands. My current attire, however, was quite different. First of all, it wasn't tight, or stylish, or revealing. I wore an old looking, flannel shirt with the sleeves folded up above the elbow and a few buttons undone to show some cleavage. It was paired with a loose, knee-length skirt tied off with a sash belt whose ends hung over by my left hip. Finally, I had forgone my usual heels or wedge sandals for some ballet flats. Even my hair, still long and strawberry blonde, was pulled up in a high, thick ponytail. Overall, those choices emphasized the mediocrity of my height, the mild thickness of my frame, and cutsey quality of my face rather than being particularly flattering or sexy. It sure felt comfortable, though. "Plus, I'm stuck with it for a couple days, so might as well try to enjoy it," I reminded myself, getting up the nerve to get out of my car and started toward Ryan's house. Like the week before, I felt anxious as I made that short walk, but not quite as much so. I imagined much of that was because of that previous success, but I wasn't quite so awkward in this form. I was worried about what Ryan would think of the changes I'd made, though. He'd seemed pretty happy with the way I'd been, and I'd changed much more significantly and noticeably than I'd planned to. Still, uncertain as I was, I bounded up the steps and over to the pressing the button with what could only be described as eagerness. Ryan might hate what I'd done, but he might also like it. If it was the latter, he might even be willing to make out again like last time, a prospect that I was definitely looking forward to. Even if it didn't lead to that, I was still excited for the date. No matter what genders we were or what we did, we always had fun. After the doorbell chimed out, there wasn't much of a wait before the door itself swung open to the sound of Ryan cheerfully greeting, "Hey Ab-by." That slight hitch on my name came with widened eyes as he took in my altered appearance and attire. "Hey Ryan," I answered right back, forcing my words to be smooth and my voice clear and chipper in the face of the boy's reaction. After all, it wasn't bad just surprised - at least, so far. "Hey ..." Ryan repeated his greeting absently, seemingly having forgotten he'd already done that part. "I know. I look a little different," I remarked, keeping my voice upbeat. At least, I tried to, but I couldn't quite manage that as I added a self-conscious, "Does it look bad?" while glancing down at myself. "No, not at all. You look great," Ryan offered with a reassuring smile. "I was just surprised." Lifting my gaze, I tossed a suspicious look the boy's way. "You're not just saying that, right? It's alright to be honest." "I am being honest," Ryan promised, his smile never wavering. "You really look great. In fact, you look even better than last week." While I highly doubted that, I still ate the complement up, beaming with delight. "I'm glad. I was a little worried that I might've changed too much." "Nope, but that was part of why I was surprised," Ryan noted. "I mean, you picked out your look last week, and since you weren't changing anything for me ... You didn't, did you? Change like this because of me?" Swishing my skirt about a little, I shook my head. "Nope. Last week was just sort of ... well, I guess you could call it a rough guess, y'know, since I'd never really thought about the hypothetical it was based on. There was a lot of ... refining to do." "Ah, makes sense," Ryan acknowledged, sweeping his gaze over me real quick. I watched him carefully as he did, looking for any hints of anything that he might not like. As far as I could tell, he never gave any. To the contrary, he seemed quite happy with the view. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though. "Anyway ..." I segued after the conversation missed a beat. "Are you ready to get going?" "Sure. What are we doing tonight, anyway?" Ryan inquired, stepping out of his house and closing the door behind him. "I wasn't supposed to pick, was I?" Giggling, I shook my head. "No. I handled the plan." "Ah, good. Is it a surprise or can you tell me?" Ryan asked. "Dinner and a movie," I answered simply before turning to go. "That's it?" Ryan double-checked even as he fell into step behind me. "Yep," I confirmed only to stop and glance back while asking, "Oh, by the way, do you still want to drive. No more mustang." Rather than answer right away, Ryan actually looked past me toward the street. There, my old mustang had been replaced with a honda. It was one of the sporty models, but it didn't have that immediate visual impact of a classic muscle car. That didn't seem to bother my date any, though. He just raised a hand to catch while answering, "You bet. Toss me the keys." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Do you cook a lot?" Ryan asked as he leaned against the far side of the kitchen island. In the middle of mixing the items that I was currently cooking in a pan on the stove, I didn't look up as I shook my head and answered, "No, not really." "Do you like it?" Ryan queried. Again without looking up, I shook my head and repeated, "No, not really." "Then why'd you learn?" Ryan followed up. "I mean, it's not like you don't have the money to go out all the time." "Because I do like cooking when I have someone to keep me company," I replied, briefly looking up to offer the boy a quick smile before getting right back to work. "Besides, don't you like the idea of having your date make you a home-cooked meal a hell of a lot better than her just paying some random chef at a restaurant to make it for you?" "Well, that's certainly true," Ryan agreed. "My uncle's always telling me that the most important thing in a relationship is finding a girl whose cooking you like." Hearing such an old-fashioned idea got a giggle out of me. "Really? Is he even married?" "Nope," Ryan answered. "I guess he never found a girl that could cook?" "Well, that's not something you're gonna have to worry about, because, if I could toot my own horn for a second, I'm a very good cook," I bragged. "Those cookies you made a couple weeks back were certainly delicious, so I'd say you earned the toot," Ryan commented. Cheeks flushing slightly at the complement, I nodded. "Thanks. Hopefully, you'll like this even better." "I'm not sure that's gonna be possible," Ryan hedged. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure it'll be great, but one, so were the cookies, and two, they were fucking cookies. Dessert is always the best part of dinner." Giggling, I tossed my date a knowing look. "Well, I'm glad you think that, because I already had plans to make dessert, as well." "You did?" Ryan replied, perking up to glance about the room. "What's it gonna be?" "That's tonight secret," I told him with a mischievous smirk. "You'll have to eat your meat and veggies like a good boy to find out." "But I wanna eat dessert first!" Ryan whined childishly. In turn, I affected a motherly sternness. "I don't want to hear it, young man. If you don't clean your plate, you're not getting dessert." That proved to be both of our limits as the act devolved into fit of laughter. It lasted a good few seconds before it drifted into chuckles, then ended entirely. In its wake, there was an empty pause as we both seemed to wait for the other to speak first. "Well, anyway ... this is looking pretty close to ready, so I should probably set the table," Ryan remarked, pushing off the counter to get moving. "Table's already set. See?" I noted, pointing toward the dishes neatly arrayed on the wooden surface. "Oh ..." Ryan mumbled, glancing back over his shoulder. Shrugging, he turned back to me with a smirk. "Then, can I pour drinks or did you somehow manage that while my back was turned." Chuckling, I shook my head. "No, I'm not quite that good, so go ahead." "On it," Ryan declared, starting toward the fridge. "What would you like anyway?" "Milk," I answered simply. Nodding, Ryan pulled open the door to reach in and grab the gallon only for his hand to stop midway. "Oh? What's this?" "What's what?" I asked, glancing back over my shoulder. "This," Ryan clarified by scooping out a glass cake dish full of something creamy and yellow-white. "Oh ... that ... well ... it's nothing. Certainly not dessert, so you should just put and forget about it, because you didn't see anything," I rambled evasively. "Really? 'Cause it looks like I found cheesecake, presumably handmade by you for none other than dessert," Ryan pointed out. I scoffed dismissively. "Pfft! Preposterous! Now, put it away!" "Yes, ma'am," Ryan obeyed, albeit with a grin on his face and a chuckle slipping from his lips. Sighing, I muttered under my breath, "Way to ruin the surprise." "Sorry, I wasn't trying to," Ryan replied with more sincerity. Another sigh slid out of me before I shrugged. "Well, whatever, I hope you like cheesecake." "Who doesn't like cheesecake?" Ryan question incredulously. "People?" I guessed. "Stupid people, maybe," Ryan shot back. "I, however, am not stupid." "True, you are more of a smartass than a dumbass," I teased. "Ya got a little of both in ya, though." Laughing, Ryan shook his head and got back to pouring drinks. "Yeah, well so do you." Far from insulted, I just smiled as I watched the boy go about his task. "Yeah, we're just a couple of idiotic smartasses." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Oof ... " Ryan groaned as he finally shoved his plate away and leaned back in his seat. "As much as I want another slice, I think I'm done." Having finished some time ago, I was far less bloated and readily giggled at the claim. "Oh, really? Are you sure? I'm mean, you only had seconds of everything." "And I'd have thirds if my stupid stomach were bigger!" Ryan declared loudly, glaring down at his belly which actually looked a bit swollen. "Stupid thing." Still giggling, I remarked, "Well, if you keep eating like that, I'm sure it'll get bigger, along with the rest of you." "Oh, is that your plan? Want some big, fat marshmellow to hug?" Ryan accused light-heartedly. "Nope, not into fat dudes," I told him. "Well then, you should probably get worse at cooking, because right now, your stuff is pretty much impossible to say no to," Ryan retorted. "It's like the one ring whispering in your ear, 'eat more'." Even as the joke got a laugh out of me, the compliment alongside it had me beaming happily. "Sounds like someone needs to up their anti- corruption game. If all it takes is some sweet whispers to get you to do something, some cute girl will come along and steal you from me in a snap." "Well ... maybe if she was cuter than you," Ryan mused. "Oh really?" I questioned, a sharp edge in my voice. Grinning, Ryan leveled a sincere look my way. "But there aren't any girls that are cuter than you, so guess I'm guess stuck." Cheeks heating up, I tried to shrug off those words. "Well, now I know you're lying. I'm not even your dream girl." "Says who?" Ryan demanded. "Says the fact that you chickened out and made me pick for you," I huffed. "That's not stopping you from being a dream come true," Ryan shot back smoothly. "Okay, that's enough corny lines outta you, mister!" I commanded, undoubtedly getting redder by the moment. Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Corny? Then why are blushing?" "Out of embarrassment for you!" I deflected. "Well then, I'm sorry for being such an embarrassment," Ryan apologized even as he chuckled in amusement. "You should be," I told him, pushing myself up from my seat. "Now excuse me, I have dishes to do." In spite of his earlier groaning, Ryan hopped right up at those words. "No, no, sit down. I'll get 'em." "What?" I questioned in surprise. "I'll get the dishes," Ryan clarified, starting to scoop up the plates on the table. "So sit down and relax." "You really don't have to," I pointed out. "I know," Ryan answered. "But I have to show my thanks to you for cooking such a delicious meal somehow; might as well be manual labor. Plus, I can save such skilled and delicate hands from the harshness of hot water and dish soap." Giggling, I rolled my eyes. "We could do them together." "Not really," Ryan refused as he spun away to get started. "There's only the one sink, but I suppose I won't complain if you want to dry the pots and pans." "Consider them dried," I replied with a smile. While Ryan turned on the water and grabbed the soap from under the sink, I slip in behind him to grab the pots and pans off the stove and shift them to the counter. Once that was done, I took the spot right next to the boy with dish towel in hand. It would be a while before such things were necessary, though, as the water was only just starting to heat up. My wait was unlikely to be a boring one, though, as my date chose that moment to bump my shoulder. "What?" I asked as I turned that way. "What do you mean what?" Ryan shot a question right back. "You bumped me," I stated. "No, I didn't," Ryan denied, as he got started on the first pot. "Yes, you did!" I insisted. "Are you sure you didn't bump me?" Ryan inquired. "Very," I answered. Ryan shrugged. "Then I guess it's a mystery." Tossing the boy a skeptical look, I mumbled. "Yeah, sure it is ..." In silence, Ryan quickly scrubbed the pot in his hands, rinsed it off, then handed it to me. Still doubtful about the bump, I hesitated a bit to take the pot, but I did end up grabbing. I even dried it, set it aside, and then waited for the next in line. It came before long, and it seemed like we'd just fall into a rhythm, except that midway through drying it, I felt a few droplets of water splatter on my cheek. "Okay! Now you're splashing me!" I snapped, jerking around to glare at the boy beside me. Not even trying to hide his guilt this time, Ryan still had one hand up with fingers pointed toward me and a big grin on his face. "What gonna melt from a little water? I didn't realize you were one of the park's witches." Narrowing my eyes, I kept my glare up for one more moment before my hand darted out. I got it right into the stream from the faucet then swatted it up toward Ryan. The spray that created wasn't much but it was enough to get him. He even twitched in surprise and twisted away to shield himself "What gonna melt?" I taunted right back. "Oh ho ho ho ... careful," Ryan warned. "You don't want to start a water fight right now." "Oh yeah? Why's that?" I demanded. "Because the faucet's right in front of me, and I'm big enough to do this," Ryan declared just before he twisted about, using his hip to shove me back and interpose his body between me and the water. Then, he just started scooping up handfuls from the stream and tossing them back over his shoulder at me. "Gah!" I squealed as I fled from the impromptu shower. "Yeah, you better run!" Ryan called after me. "Asshole!" I yelled right back, but my only half-suppressed giggles robbed my voice of any edge. "If you can't handle getting a little wet, you shouldn't pick a water fight," Ryan shot back mockingly. "Yeah, well, I can use things besides just water," I retorted, darting back into the fray. Along the way, Ryan tossed some more water my way, but I ignored it. Instead, I took advantage of his back being toward me, which limited his vision and ability to defend himself. Getting up right behind him, I jabbed fingers into his sides as hard as I could. "Gah!" Ryan yelped out a lower pitched mirror of my earlier reaction as his body contorted involuntarily. Proof of success only goaded me on, adding jab after jab. At first, my date tried to twist away or block with an arm, but I always darted around such defenses. A few seconds of failure proved to be all that he was willing to tolerate before he spun around to face me, snatching up wrists in wet hands. "Alright, that's enough of that," Ryan stated sternly. In truth, the boy's grip wasn't that tight. Even as a girl, I could've broken free, but I let myself be held as I grinned up at him mischievously. "What are ya gonna do, hold onto me forever?" "Maybe!" Ryan exclaimed with faux-harshness. "That'll probably get pretty dull," I remarked. Smirking, Ryan shrugged. "Maybe, but what other choice do I have?" I had a response ready for that, but I never got the chance to say it. In the wake of his last question, Ryan leaned in, and then, his lips met mine. For the first few moments, that was all it was, the only contact between us lips and hands, although, the former grew more ardent with every instant that passed. Then, the needs of the kiss took over. Ryan released my wrists to use one hand to cup the back of my head while the other slid around me to pull me close. He needn't have bothered, since, as soon as I was free, I pressed forward of my own accord, throwing my arms around the boy's neck. While I would've been quite glad to just spend the rest of the night making out in the kitchen, even with Ryan's wet and kind of clammy hands on me, it didn't go that way. For reasons unknown to me, my date only let it go on for a few seconds before he broke his lips away from mine. When he did, it was for the incredibly lame purpose of murmuring, "Uhm ... I should, uh, get back to those dishes." "Leave 'em," I directed, trying to pull us back together. Keeping us apart, Ryan shook his head, even going so far as to shift his hands to my shoulders so that he could push me away. "Sorry, can't. I mean, it's not like they're gonna clean themselves." Undoubtedly, that remark was meant as a joke. It was even delivered in the lighthearted tone one would expect. In spite of that, I felt a sudden, and nearly overwhelming urge to cry. Only by stepping back and wrapping my arms tightly around myself did I manage to fight it off. All of that went completely unnoticed by Ryan, who, once released, turned toward the sink. Soon, he was back to scrubbing pots. However, I didn't move back to my spot to dry them, leaving him to have to set it aside whenever he finished with one. Instead, I just watched his back, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, but I just couldn't come up with an answer. "Is this as far as we go, Ryan?" I finally broke the silence to ask. "Huh?" Ryan mumbled, glancing back over his shoulder at me. "What are you talking about?" "I'm talking about how you just turned down making out with me to do dishes of all things," I spat more harshly than I'd intended. That tone was clearly evident to Ryan, too, given the way he reeled back. "That's not ... I didn't mean ..." "Then tell me what you do mean, because it's been weeks, this configuration should be pretty normal for you, and you say all these nice things ... " I rattled off far too many things, and I didn't shut up with that. "Is it how I look? Do you not like this after all? Are you just never going to be okay with it because of Andy? Do you just need more time? Is it something else? Tell me ... anything ... now ... ple-" "Stop," Ryan cut me off, chuckling a little. "I can't tell you anything, if you don't let me get a word in edgewise." "Sorry," I mumbled, gaze falling to the floor. A beat of silence passed like that, then another as Ryan took a deep breath. Only then did he finally answer, "It's not you. It's me." "Bullshit!" I huffed. "I don't want cl-" "Stop," Ryan cut me off again. While I did fall silent, I did so while glaring at the boy. "I'm serious. You being Andy five-sevenths of the time does throw me a bit, but it's not why I stopped, and the rest of that is just nonsense. You're beautiful, like way way out of my league gorgeous, and you're fun, you're not demanding, You're an amazing kisser, and a spectacular cook of all things. You're great ..." Ryan answered. All the praise made me feel a little better, but I had my doubts. "I sense a but coming." "But, I don't really have a lot of ... experience with this sort of things," Ryan explained sheepishly. "And, I mean, you've been like a hundred different girls, and probably slept with as many different guys, not even counting whatever you've done as Andy, but this is only, like, my second relationship ever, and it's a crazy one, too, but I really like you, so I get kinda swept up in the moment sometimes, and then reality, like, crashes down on me, and all of a sudden I feel like I'm made of wood, and I can't ... " Sighing, Ryan shook his head. "I just can't." Overwhelmed by the rambling, I was left to waste a moment just blinking in surprise as I tried to process it all. When, I finally had, somehow, I ended up asking, "This is really your second relationship?" "Yeah, well, maybe third depending on how you count 'em," Ryan answered, scratching at the back of his neck. "I had a girlfriend last year for a couple months, and then in seventh grade this girl and I had this, like, mutual crush, flirty thing going on where we texted each other in class and made goo-goo eyes whenever we passed by one another in the hall." That last bit got a giggle out of me. "That's adorable." "Ha ... yeah ..." Ryan muttered, shaking his head at his immature foolishness. "Anyway, you're definitely only the second girl I've ever kissed, not counting other variations of you, and that's a whole different mess to think about." "Okay, but still ... I don't remember having this much trouble getting on board with the idea of making out," I argued. "It was pretty much just get a green light and go." "Oh yeah? And was this during your second relationship ever which was also with an older girl who's super stunning and way more experienced than you?" Ryan countered. "No," I admitted. "Exactly," Ryan stated. "I'm not gonna make fun of you if you screw up, though," I pointed out. "Well, that's not true. I probably would make fun of you, but not to be mean about it. It would just be because it would be funny." Ryan rolled his eyes at that admission. "Thanks, that really helps." "Sorry," I apologized. "What I mean is, I wouldn't be upset, and you really don't need to worry, anyway. For my being only your second girl, you're pretty good at the whole kissing thing." "Yeah ... it's more what to do after that that gets me," Ryan mumbled, averting his eyes. "The moment I start thinking about that is the moment it all goes to shit." "Oh?" I hummed, raising eyebrow even as my lips curled in a smirk. "Someone's tired of batting singles already?" "N-No," Ryan stuttered, defeating his own claim. "I just think about it, sometimes." Smirk broadening into a full on grin, I stepped forward, taking advantage of the fact that Ryan couldn't look me in the eye. By the time he noticed my movement, I'd already closed the gap, and he couldn't possibly react in time to stop me. My arms wrapped around him as I stepped in very close, not just embracing him, but pressing myself fully against him so that he could feel pretty much everything there was to feel. Unsurprisingly, the boy went board-stiff from the contact as he stammered out. "Uhm ... Abby. W-What are you doing?" "Getting you accustomed to what a girl feels like," I answered, grinding against him a little. That proved the end of my teasing as Ryan's hands shot up, forcing their way between us while he declared, "Alright, that's enough of that!" From there, he pried us apart, I didn't bother resisting it. A moment later, he broke from my grip, stumbling back a couple of steps, while I dipped back only half a step. "Aw, what's wrong? Didn't it feel good?" I teased. Narrowing his eyes, Ryan wagged a finger at me. "Tricky, but I've got my eye on you, so no more shenanigans." "Oh? Do you like what you see?" I purred, shifting my posture to thrust my chest out, cock my hips to the side, and rest a hand one of the latter. Shaking his head, Ryan turned back to the sink. "You're incorrigible." "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I inquired. "It's a 'you're trouble' thing," Ryan answered as he grabbed the next pot. Shrugging, I stepped up beside him to start drying again. "Mmm ... sounds like a good thing to me." *********************************************** *********************************************** "So you listened to me, and it worked out? Imagine that," Anya remarked dryly. Chuckling, I nodded. "Alright, alright, I get your point, but to be fair, I was less concerned with you being wrong than with not wanting to think about the situation at all." "Oh really? Because I remember you coming out, looking all uncertain and even just a little disappointed," Anya pointed out. "That was just 'cause I ended up changing more than I'd thought!" I retorted. "Well, whatever," Anya dismissed the argument. "I'm glad you had a fun date." I smiled brightly. "Me too. It feels like we might be getting really close; just need like one last breakthrough - at least for the Abby Ryan dynamic. Becka's been a little tougher." "Well then, there's something that might liven your spirits on that front over by the gates," Anya remarked, gesturing toward said gates. Twisting about, I looked over to see Becka coming out of the park and toward me. Typical of her, she looked just a touch uncomfortable and nervous regarding being magically female. There was nothing unusual about her typical teen attire either, unlike my last time through the park. In fact, I spent the first few moments wondering what Anya could've been talking about, before my date drew a little closer and I finally saw the difference. "What's this? Do my eyes deceive me or did you go with a little ... upgrade?" I inquired jokingly as I eyed the girl's chest, a chest which had notably increased in side from the previous week. In fact, it looked about back to the size she'd been during our first outing. "Well ... it's not really an 'upgrade'. More like a restoration," Becka mumbled, gaze dropping to her own cleavage. "I'm supposed to be this size, after all." "Yeah, but I thought you hated having big boobs," I pointed out. "And I do!" Becka was quick to insist before adding more quietly. "But I thought my figure was maybe a little ... lacking the other way, y'know, 'cause of the extra bulk from height and muscle." Smirking wryly, I nodded. "Right, you are pretty big for a girl, and now you are in another way, too." "Ha ha, keep laughing and I'll get rid of 'em entirely, next time," Becka threatened. "You'll feel pretty stupid having a girlfriend with no boobs." Unconcerned, I offered a simple shrug. "I wouldn't mind." "Really? Do you like 'em small or something?" Becka questioned, again glancing down at her chest, this time with doubt. "No, I prefer larger, and those certainly look great on you, but you'd still be cute without 'em," I assured her. Chuckling, Becka shook her head. "Well that's just empty flattery, right there." "It's not empty if you mean it, and you don't get to decide what I do and don't mean," I corrected. "You sure about that?" Becka questioned. "I'm pretty sure that's one of the girl's jobs, deciding what her boy does and doesn't mean." That joke sent a heartfelt chortle tearing out of me. "Certainly in some relationships, I'll give ya that. I like to think we're better than that." "I don't know ... " Becka mused. "It sounds like it would be fun." "Whatever," I dismissed, knowing the girl wasn't being serious. "You ready to get going?" "Yep," Becka confirmed. "Let's do this." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Hey, you wanna watching something else, man?" I inquired, eyeing my friend with concern. "Or just do something else entirely?" "Huh?" Ryan mumbled as he snapped from the daze he'd been in to look my way. "Wow, you must've been really out of it, if you didn't even hear what I said," I commented. Sighing, Ryan reached up to rub at his eyes. "Sorry ... I'm just a little distracted." "Really? You don't say," I remarked sarcastically as I reached over to grab the remote and stop the movie. "Well, since you're clearly not watching this, why don't you tell me what the trouble is." Ryan shook his head. "Nah, I don't-" "Aw, come on," I pressured. "Maybe I can help?" "There's nothing to help with," Ryan answered. "It's not a problem distracting me." "Oh, then what is?" I inquired. "I just said I don't wanna talk about it," Ryan pointed out. With a grin on my face, I shrugged off that excuse. "And I'm pretty clearly not gonna take no for answer, so spill it already. Unless you really wanna spend the rest of your time here with me just repeating, 'tellmetellmetellmetellmetellme' over and over again." "I'll just leave," Ryan chuckled. "How? I own the car. You gonna walk?" I antagonized. "'Cause I'll just ride along beside you, keeping it up the whole way back to your house." "God, that would be so obnoxious," Ryan muttered, shaking his head. "For both of us." "Yeah, so save us from it and just tell me already," I directed. Rolling his eyes, Ryan let out a heavy sigh. "Alright, fine. I'm just thinking about our next date. There. Ya happy now?" Actually, I was quite happy, also a little surprised. The latter of the two dictated my response, though, as I asked, "You're thinking about our next date?" even though I knew what the answer would be. "Yes, well, not our next date, but my next date with Abby, which is sorta like our next date, but not exactly and ... ugh," Ryan confirmed only to trail off into a groan. "I hate how convoluted this is." "Well, you could've just stuck with our next date," I pointed out. "I knew what you meant." "Yeah ... I guess ..." Ryan mumbled, shaking his head. "Anyway, that's why I'm distracted, so bring on the mockery about how I'm infatuated with Abby and whatever else is already percolating in that evil, little brain of yours." Chuckling, I admitted. "Oh, there's a lotta percolating going on, but honestly, I'm a little too happy to know you're looking forward to our date to make fun of you for it." "I don't know, that sounded like you were making of fun of me," Ryan critiqued. "Yeah, well, it starting to sound like to me that you want me to make fun of you," I countered. "Is that what you want? 'Cause if not, maybe a grow a pair and stop whining." Laughing, Ryan nodded along with my assessment. "Alright, no more whining." "Good," I stated staunchly before letting a beat pass. Then, I switched topics to ask, "So ... what about the date were thinking about? Coming up with something for us to do? Hoping I cook again? Something else maybe?" "Oh man, I don't know if I could survive you cooking again," Ryan remarked. "I still feel bloated from last week." Silly as it was, that claim got a chuckle out of me. "In this reality, I didn't even cook for you last week, so that can't be true." "Must just be PTSD or something then," Ryan persisted. "From eating too much food?" I questioned incredulously. "No, from a war between my taste buds and my belly," Ryan answered, affecting a harrowed expression and serious tone. "One just kept demanding more and more while the other kept begging me to stop. It was ... haunting." "Oh yeah? Then, I guess that should be the last time I ever cook for you. After all, I wouldn't want to put your through something so 'haunting' again," I mused facetiously. "Well ... maybe haunting was too strong a word," Ryan backed off. "Ya think?" I replied. Ryan shrugged. "Maybe. Clearly my taste buds are haunted, though, 'cause food hasn't tasted as good since." "Well, I'm sorry for that," I apologized insincerely. "You should be," Ryan huffed, folding his arms as if he was pouting. Letting out a little chuckle, I shook my head. "Anyway, seems it wasn't my cooking you were thinking about, so what was it?" "Jeez, you are really just locked onto this, aren't ya?" Ryan muttered. "Can't just let it go." "Nope," I confirmed. "After all, I gotta know if I need to, like, dress sexy or something for ya." Ryan rolled his eyes at that. "Actually, I liked your outfit from last time." "Really? You didn't think it was a random hodgepodge of stuff that made it look like I didn't care?" I questioned. Tossing me a suspicious look. "No ... did you?" "A little ..." I admitted. "Not that I didn't like the outfit, too. I just felt a little underdressed for a date." "Well, that's not the impression I got," Ryan told me. "It was cute and unique." "Oh ... well ... now I'm sad I can't just wear the same thing again," I remarked. "You can't?" Ryan questioned. "I mean ... it's been a week." I raised an eyebrow at the offered excuse. "Oh? Do you want me to wear the same thing." "No, what I want is for you to not care so much about tweaking every little thing specifically for me," Ryan answered. "It's weird. I like it better when you're just yourself, or I guess, Abby's herself? Uhm ... hmm ... tricky ... you know what I mean, right?" "Yeah, I think so," I affirmed. "What I still don't know, though, is what you were thinking about." Chuckling, Ryan rolled his eyes. "Seriously, just locked in like a guided missile or something." "I wouldn't have to be, if you just told me already," I pointed out. "Well, there's not really anything to tell," Ryan answered. "I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just general stuff, like how will it go, what will we do, that sort of thing." Dubious of such claims, I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know. Smells like bullshit to me." "Well, it doesn't matter how it smells," Ryan retorted. "That's all you're gonna get, 'cause there's nothing else to get." "Maybe there is and maybe there isn't," I hedged. "Whatever," Ryan muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back toward the screen. "While you figure that out, you mind startin' the movie up again?" While I was pretty sure that there was more to find, I nodded and started the movie again. After all, I'd already tried several times, and Ryan hadn't been willing to give up the truth. Any more and I risked going from annoying to enraging, and the last thing I wanted was to get in a fight when things were going well. At least, they seemed to me to be going well. It was possible that Ryan wasn't thinking about the upcoming date because of excited but reticence. There was no way for me to to know for sure, but I hoped that wasn't the case. Besides that, all I could do was wait and see how he acted that day. *********************************************** *********************************************** "It's fine," I told myself as I got out of my car, but I couldn't resist the urge to fiddle with my clothes a bit more as I walked over to Ryan's house. The print, wrap skirt and short-sleeve blouse were not the same as what I'd been wearing the week before, which Ryan had praised, but they weren't that dissimilar either. Of course, that could be bad, too. After all, one of the boy's compliments had been of their uniqueness, but ... "Ugh ... Focus!" I huffed, shaking myself like a wet dog to try to drive off the niggling doubts that had haunted me since Ryan had refused to tell me the truth. In just a few moments, I'd see the truth for myself. All I had to do was ring the bell and wait, so that was what I did. As per his usual for our dates, Ryan didn't make me wait long, arriving at the door promptly to pull it open and greet me with a simple, but cheerful, "Hey." "Hey," I parroted back, notably more withdrawn. "No big changes today, I see," Ryan remarked. Mention of my appearance got me glancing down uncertainly. "Nope, just a different outfit." "But still a cute one," Ryan's compliment came smooth and sincere. "Thanks," I chirped, genuinely relieved to hear that my worries, on that front at least, were misfounded. "Probably a little more important, though, is whether or not you came with a plan for this date, 'cause I ain't got one," Ryan noted. Giggling, I shook my head. "What am I gonna do with you?" "Hopefully, tell me where we're goin' and what we're doin'," Ryan replied with a grin. "Well ... lucky for you I do actually have a plan," I told him. "I was thinking I'd give you a run back." "A run back?" Ryan inquired. Nodding, I hummed, "Mmhmm." "And what are we running back?" Ryan asked. "Bowling," I answered. "Last time, our positions were reversed, so I figured you'd like a chance to prove how manly you are by beating up on a little girl." "Oh yeah?" Ryan remarked, chuckling in amusement. "And how do I know that little girl hasn't been bowling for years?" "Well, you don't, other than I'll say that I've never bowled as a girl, and certainly as this particular girl," I revealed. "I don't think it's gonna make me completely awful, but it should be a pretty significant handicap, if for no other reason than lack of arm strength." "So when I end up losing anyway, I should feel really bad," Ryan joked. With a grin on my face, I shrugged. "You could always try winning." "Oh, I always do," Ryan assured me. "It's the follow through that's always causing me trouble." "Both in bowling and in life," I teased. Laughing, Ryan nodded in agreement. "Yep, but I'm ready to lose, so let's get to it." *********************************************** *********************************************** "See? Lost," Ryan remarked as he plopped down at our table next to me after his last roll failed to put him over my point total - not that it could have. "Well, maybe you wouldn't have if you didn't suck so much," I mocked. "You had better scores as Becka." "I know!" Ryan exclaimed. "I got all used to doing it as her last time. Now, it's throwing off my game!" Giggling, I shook my head. "You're pathetic." "Oh yeah? How are all those strikes and spares you got? Oh wait, you just got the one spare this time," Ryan shot back antagonistically. "Alright, I'll admit, it's hard to get used to," I conceded. "I actually learned how to bowl a specific way and practiced it, though. You're just an amatuer who played a few games a different way one time." "Yeah, but that's like half the games I've ever played," Ryan pointed out. Rather than argue, I shrugged. "Fine, I guess we both suck." "This game maybe, but I've got a good feeling about the next one," Ryan declared, rubbing his fingertips with his thumbs. "The rust is coming off, and the thunder is ready to be unleashed." The absurd claim pulled a helpless laugh out of me. "The thunder? Really?" "Hey, there's a distinct thunder quality to the sound of a strike," Ryan contended. "There is, but do you think you're going to get one ... ever?" I teased. "Hey! I got one once before!" Ryan exclaimed. "Oh yeah? When? 'Cause it wasn't when we played before," I demanded. "It was in middle school," Ryan told me. "My school has these like party days at the end of the year, and my eighth grade class went bowling. It was on that day when I first unleashed the thunder." "Sounds legendary, and by that I mean, a complete lie like the existence of unicorns," I remarked dryly. Chuckling, Ryan turned up his nose at me. "Well, it happened, so there." "Alright, well, you know what they say, lightning never strikes twice, so I guess I'm safe from 'the thunder'," I taunted. That claim had Ryan narrowing his eyes at me as he pronounced, "No one's ever safe from the thunder," with deadly seriousness. Giggling, I pushed myself out of my seat. "Well, then bring it, 'cause I ain't scared. Let's get game two going." "I don't know if I should," Ryan hedged as he rolled his shoulders. "You might get hurt." "The only thing I'm more safe from than the thunder is you hurting me," I retorted, reaching down to jab the button to start the next game. "So time to put up or shut up." "Alright, but just remember, you wanted this," Ryan warned as he finally rose to get ready. Rolling my eyes, I marched over to grab my bowl while saying, "Yeah, and you remember all this ridiculousness when I kick your ass again." *********************************************** *********************************************** "So much for the thunder," I remarked as I stepped out of the bowling alley. Having held the door while I passed, Ryan slipped out right behind me before taking a couple quick steps to catch up. "Hey, I got a couple strikes, so I did bring it as promised." "Yeah, you know what you didn't bring? A victory," I taunted. "Well, I did say before we even started that I was gonna lose," Ryan pointed out. "You also said that you should feel really bad about it, but you don't look too upset to me," I observed. With a little smile on his lips, Ryan shrugged. "'Cause I'm not." "Oh, come on," I demanded. "You got your ass kicked by a girl. That has to sting a little." "Maybe, a little, but truth be told, I actually hate losing to Andy more," Ryan admitted. "I guess it's just less obnoxious when my girlfriend is perfect than my douchebag best friend." "Hey! Watch it!" I warned, wagging a finger at my date. "Just 'cause I'm Abby right now, doesn't mean I'm not gonna stick up for myself. You could go from figurative asskicking to literal asskicking pretty quick here." Chuckling, Ryan held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry." "You're forgiven," I told the boy in a decidedly haughty manner. Still laughing, Ryan let his hands drop. "That's a relief." As the silly topic petered out, my date and I fell drifted into silence. It wasn't a bad one, though. To the contrary, I felt rather comfortable just walking along beside the boy on our way to my car. Glancing over at Ryan, I felt a smile curl my lips. In spite of my worries, there hadn't been any sign of awkwardness or displeasure during the date. He'd seemed to be enjoying himself considerably, even as I won game after game. Maybe, there really hadn't been any more to his distraction the other day than simple daydreaming. "So ... where to next? My house?" Ryan broke the silence to ask. Caught up in other thoughts, it took me a moment to get my head oriented on those questions. "Uhm ... well, actually ..." I mumbled, letting my gaze dip to the pavement. "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to come by my place for a bit. We could, like, watch a movie or whatever. Plus, there's still some cheesecake left." "Mmm, my old nemesis ... your cheesecake," Ryan murmured, sounding at once tempted and adversarial. "Yeah," I confirmed with a giggle. "I was also kinda hoping that we could finish something else we started last week," I continued, reaching out to rub a hand along my date's lower back. "If you're interested." Clearly, I'd overplayed my hand a little with that as rather than play along with the flirting, Ryan stiffened slightly at my touch before joking, "How does one finish making out, exactly? It just sorta stops eventually, right? I mean, unless it leads to ... y'know." "I guess ..." I mumbled, unable to quite hide my disappointment. It was stupid really. It wasn't like I had to make out with the guy to have fun. I'd been having fun. Still, rather than continuing to do so, I found myself once again wondering if I was doing something wrong. Guy's didn't usually turn this kinda thing down, at least not in my experience. As such thoughts overtook me, silence once again overtook the two of us. However, this time, it was awkward - no, more than awkward. There was a heaviness to the air that made the quiet feel somehow loud and suffocating. It was awful, but I was too wrapped up in doubts to come up with a way to break it. In the end it was a bump on my shoulder combined with a simple, "Hey," that shattered the gloomy quiet just as Ryan and I reached my car. "Hmm?" I hummed as I looked up from my thoughts. "I'd love to come over for a bit," Ryan told me. "And not just to eat some of that delicious cheesecake." A strained smile curled my lips. "Thanks, but you don't have to or anything." "I know," Ryan assured me. "But I want to." Some of the tension faded from my smile as I asked, "Really?" "Really," came the confirmation. Still having my doubts, I eyed the boy suspiciously. "Prove it." "Prove it? How do I prove that I want to come over any other way than just coming over?" Ryan questioned incredulously. "Kiss me. Right here. Right now," I directed. At first, that demand seemed to shock Ryan, but he quickly recovered enough to shrug. "Alright." As soon as that word left his mouth, he started to lean in. That motion was so sudden that I actually found myself a little taken aback. I managed to get over it just in time for the boy's lips to find mine, allowing me to return the kiss not just receive it. It wasn't some quick, little peck either, just enough to barely qualify as what I asked for. No, Ryan held on for several seconds, not just by pressing our mouths together, but by actually reaching out to hold me in place - not that I had anywhere else I wanted to be. Then, finally, Ryan pulled back just enough to break contact and smile at me. "There. Done. Need anything else?" "N-No ..." I breathed, feeling like my head was lost in a cloud and my knees were barely able to hold me up. "Good then ..." Ryan remarked as he walked over to the passenger side of my car to open the door for me. "Let's stop hanging around muggy parking lots and find some AC." Laughingly lightly, I walked over to get in the vehicle, chirping out a grateful, "Thank you," along the way. "My pleasure," came Ryan's reply just before he closed the door. A few moments later, we were off to my house where there would be more kissing and some leftover cheesecake before the night was through. *********************************************** *********************************************** "I'm just saying that I still don't get why you're so into switching," Becka explained in between munching on her fries. "I mean, I've changed several times now, and while I don't think it's as terrible as I did before, it's not particularly fun." "Really?" I inquired, more than a little surprised. "So you haven't enjoyed any of these Andy-Becka dates?" "No. That's not what I'm saying," Becka refuted emphatically. "The dates themselves have been fun, but more, in spite of the fact that I'm a girl for them, rather than because of it. Does that make sense?" I screwed my face up uncertainly. "Kinda?" "Look, I'm just saying that, in a vacuum, I prefer being a guy," Becka clarified. "Obviously, it's not a choice that's made in a vacuum, so here I am as a girl, and I'm not unhappy about it, but I can't imagine ever doing what you do, switching all the time for years on end just to go to college parties and stuff." "I used it for a lot more than just getting into college parties," I pointed out. "Fair enough, and I get wanting to try new things," Becka continued. "I just, personally, would prefer to do that as a guy. Actually ... I'd say that's probably when I most want to be a guy. Otherwise, the awkwardness of a being a girl compounds with the awkwardness of trying to do something I've never done before to make things way worse. It sorta like trying to learn something new, but also insisting on doing it left handed." "Hmm ..." I hummed thoughtfully, tilting my head back and forth. "I guess I can see that. I have been doing this since I was a little kid, so I'm probably more ... ambidextrous than you are." "Exactly," Becka confirmed. "Kinda hard to keep dates fresh if you don't wanna try new things, though," I pointed out. Tilting her head to the side, Becka hummed out, "Mmm ... I guess, but while I might joke about that, it doesn't really bother me if we do the same stuff all the time. I mean, we've watched tons of movies together, and it's always fun. Games, fun. Second round of bowling, still fun." "Well, I like to do different things," I pointed out. "So you hate it that I want you to keep being the same Abby over and over again?" Ryan asked. Slowly, I shook my head. "No, but I do think it's kinda weird. I mean, you could have an endless array of beautiful women to date, and you choose to stick with one weird redhead." "Oh, so her hair is red," Becka mused. "I was wondering if it was that or blonde." "Well, it's strawberry blonde, which might make you think it was blonde, but I think most people would call it red," I expounded. "So not really red, not really blonde but somewhere in between," Becka surmised. That got a nod from me. "Yeah, but not really the point. What I'm saying is you could have blonde, red, brown, black, and every other color in the rainbow, but you're just, like, 'nope want that color and that one only'. It's like going to an ice cream place with a thousand flavors but always getting vanilla." "Hey! Abby's definitely not vanilla!" Becka retorted. "Again, not really the point ..." I muttered, laughing under my breath. "And even if she were, what wrong with liking vanilla, huh?" Becka questioned. "Nothing, it's just-" I started to argue. Becka cut me off with, "I mean, sure, you could spend a thousand visits trying all the flavors, but that means nine-hundred-and-ninety- nine times not getting vanilla." "Wow ... you are oddly tenacious about this," I remarked. Becka shrugged. "I like what I like." "Yeah ... I could accept that except you always make me pick what we're gonna do," I pointed out. "That doesn't mean I can't pick things or that I'm just doing whatever you want," Becka countered. "If I didn't like what you were picking, I'd say something, but we always have fun, and you certainly have a broader pool of knowledge to pick from than I do, so I let you decide." "You'd really say no if you didn't like something?" I asked doubtfully. "I mean, I convinced you to go back to Bikini Beach, and you seemed to hate that place." "You may recall I wasn't on board with that at first," Becka pointed out. "You just wouldn't take no for an answer." The reminder got a chuckle out of me. "Yeah ... I did have to give you a little nudge, but, hey, it got us to here." "You certainly did," Becka admitted evenly, glancing down at her tray. "To the terrible place of being out of fries." Laughing, I jabbed a thumb toward the counter. "Want me to get you some more?" "Nah," Becka answered with a shake of her head. "Let's just get outta here." *********************************************** *********************************************** Humming softly, I tapped out a beat with one hand while my other held my phone. On the screen was my recently sent text, asking Ryan if he wanted to hang out that day. The guy was usually pretty prompt to reply, so I expected to only have to wait a few moments before I'd get the usual yes, pop off my couch, and head out. What I did not expect was for my phone to start ringing. Furrowing my brow, I tapped accept and pulled the device up to my ear. "Hello?" "Hey, sorry, I can't hang out today," Ryan answered from the other end. "I'm actually out with some other friends right now." "Oh ... " I mumbled in bemusement. "Yeah, they've been sorta making fun of how often you and I have been hanging out," Ryan remarked, his voice sounding a bit hushed and cautious. "Actually, when you texted, they asked it it was my boyfriend." That got a chuckle out of me. "If only they knew the truth." "Yeah ... anyway ..." Ryan segued. "No can do today." "No problem. In fact, now that you mention, I have been sort of ignoring my other friends, so I should probably check in with some of them, too," I assured him, only a little disappointed. Before the conversation could transition into farewells, something caught in my mind, getting me to jump in to say, "Oh! I know it's a day early, but tomorrow's the fourth of July, so I was thinking I'd go ahead and stop by the park, so we could go out together." "Uhm ... actually ... I'm gonna be busy," Ryan informed me. Frowning slightly, I asked, "More plans with friends?" "Nah, actually, the fourth is, like, the one holiday my family does stuff on," Ryan explained. "My parents are dragging me to my uncle's that day for what is basically a reunion with fireworks. The other aunts and uncles will be there along with my grandparents and a swarm of cousins for, y'know, family stuff. It's gonna be pretty lame." "Well, I don't know much about family gatherings, so I guess I'll take your word on that," I answered. "Really? Your family doesn't get together for like Christmas or something?" Ryan inquired. Even on the phone, I shook my head. "Nope. My brother doesn't want to bring his family anywhere near my dad, and my sister and my mom hate each other." "No aunts or uncles or cousins or grandparents or anything?" Ryan asked. "I have some of those things, but they don't ever come around," I answered. "In fact, I distinctly remember my mom saying her sister is nothing but a giant leech, and that I should never let her inside the house for any reason." "Damn ..." Ryan breathed. "Well, you're not missing much, unless you wanna know what it's like to feel your sanity erode under the crushing weight of interminable boredom." I chuckled at my friend's forecast. "I doubt it's that bad." "Well, if you really think so, you're welcome to come," Ryan offered. "Wouldn't be the first time someone brought a non-family member with them." "Really?" I double-checked. "Yeah, sure," Ryan confirmed. "It's not like you being there could make the experience any worse for me." "All your relatives could spend the whole time telling me embarrassing stories about you as a kid," I pointed out. A chuckle came across the line before Ryan answered, "Eh. At least that would be something to do, besides listening to my grandpa complain about how awful the world is these days." "Alright, I'll come along," I decided. "When do I need to be there?" "Uhm ... good question," Ryan answered. "I'll ask my mom about it, then text you the details." "Alright," I agreed. "Have fun with your friends." "Yeah," Ryan acknowledged. "Talk to ya later." *********************************************** *********************************************** Pressing the doorbell button, I settled back to bob up and down on my toes while I waited for Ryan. While he was usually prompt, I was surprised when the door opened almost immediately. I was even more surprised when it wasn't the boy that answered the door. Instead, for the first time ever, it was someone else, a woman. This woman bore a strong resemblance to how I remembered Ryan looking after his first trip to the park. The Becka from back then was average height, curvy, and fairly cute. This woman was also average height, fairly full-figured, and may have once been cute. She certainly wasn't anymore. She had a haggard, beaten-down look to her that emphasized the fact that she was very much so middle-aged. In fact, I got the impression that she looked older than she actually was, given the way her face and body slouched as if being dragged on by some great weight. There was also plenty of gray streaked through her hair. In fact, there was more of it than there was the dull brown strands. In spite of her exhausted and aged appearance, the woman brightened considerably at the sight of me, seeming to gain energy and animation just from my presence. The crowning glory of this was her warm, maternal smile as she remarked, "Ah, you must be Ryan's girlfriend, Abby." "Yep, that's me," I chirped, matching the woman's congeniality with a chipper tone and smile of my own. "Well, I'm his mother, Joyce," Mrs. Verlander introduced herself, extending a hand to me. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." "It's nice to meet you-" I replied as I took the offered hand for a quick, light shake. At that exact moment, Ryan dashed up next to his mother, huffing, "Mom, I said I'd get it." "Too ..." I finished, my attention shifting to the boy as I released his mother's hand. "Sorry, RyRy," Mrs. Verlander apologized, even as a meaningful glance my way showed that she didn't really mean it. "I just couldn't wait to meet the young lady that's had you so smitten recently." "Ugh ... Mom!" Ryan growled. The boy's obvious frustration earned laughs from both me and his mother. However, it was the latter that also added, "Now, why don't you come on in, sweetheart, and have a seat until we're ready to go." "Actually, Abby and I are gonna take her car down, so we were gonna go ahead and get going," Ryan corrected as he slid by his mother to get out of the house. "We'll meet you there, okay?" Before Ryan even finished adding that last bit, he'd darted by me, grabbed my hand, and started dragging me toward the car. It was so surprisingly quick, that I stumbled for the first couple of steps, and even leaked out a startled, "Eep," at the initial tug. I didn't make any effort to resist, though, assuming he knew what he was doing. "Alright, but drive safe, you two!" Ryan's mother called after us. "We will!" Ryan promised without slowing down or looking back. "Bye Mrs. Verlander!" I added, hurrying to keep up with the boy that was dragging me along. Then, seemingly in an instant, the two of us were at my car with Ryan pulling open the passage door for me. He quickly shuttled me inside, closed the door, then scurried around to plop in the driver seat. Even then, the frenetic pace didn't let up as he turned and held out his hands with a simple, "Keys." "Here," I replied, handing over the item. A moment later, the car was started and we were motoring away from Ryan's house at a pretty good clip. Only then did the boy finally seem to relax. Even once he had, he didn't say anything, just settled back into his seat with a heavy sigh. "So ..." I began awkwardly. "Your mom seems nice." "She's really not," Ryan answered. "She just puts up a good front on days like today." "Ah ... still, doesn't seem like a good reason to drag me away like that," I surmised. "Regret inviting me?" "Nope," Ryan answered without hesitation. "I was just saving you from having to sit around waiting to leave while my mom grilled you about every little thing from where you want to go to college to how many boys you've dated." Smiling, I let out a little laugh. "Those questions don't sound so hard." "They are when she's sitting there judging you while making backhanded comments," Ryan argued. "In fact, I'm pretty sure my last girlfriend broke up with me because of her." "Really?" I asked, more than a little dubious of that claim. "The timing was awfully suspect," Ryan answered. Giggling, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you just delayed the inevitable. I mean, we're going to the same place and are gonna be there for a while. She'll have plenty of opportunity to grill me however she wants." "Nah, there'll be too much family around," Ryan countered. "She'll still ask questions, but she won't be able to trap you alone, so she won't be as awful." "Jeez ... you really don't like your parents," I commented. "Because they're just the worst," Ryan replied. "Well, if they're so terrible, we could just ... not go to your uncle's," I pointed out, tossing a sly look the boy's way. "I'm sure we could find some other party to attend or maybe get a blanket and a picnic basket and go watch the fireworks together." At first, Ryan chuckled, but he quickly trailed into a sigh. "That would be nice, but my parents would be fucking furious if I did that, and they're already bad enough when they're not even actually angry with me. At the very least, I doubt I'd be able to leave the house until school started up again." "Alright, how about we go to your uncle's and just find some secluded spot there sneak off to," I proposed. "Sorry, but I doubt my parents would think that was any better," Ryan replied. I shrugged. "Oh well, I guess I'll just have to do my best to make sure you enjoy yourself today." "Alright, but just remember that there will be little kids there, so try to keep it rated G," Ryan cautioned. Giggling, I remarked, "I'm not gonna jump on you in front of your family, Ryan." "Just making sure," Ryan replied. "You have jumped on me in public before." "As a joke!" I retorted. "Still happened!" Ryan shot back. Rolling my eyes, I let out a helpless laugh. "Well, don't worry, I'll find some way to make sure you have fun that doesn't involve jumping on you. Happy?" Ryan grinned. "Yep." *********************************************** *********************************************** As I got out of the car, I could easily here the raucous sounds of chatting adults and rampaging children coming from behind Ryan's uncle's home. Apparently, the day's event was already in full swing, meaning that we were among the last arrivals. In fact, judging by the numerous cars parked there, I imagined that we were going to be the last arrivals, well, other than his parents anyway. "Sounds pretty lively for being as boring as you claim," I remarked while walking around in front of the car to meet up with my date. "Don't let it fool you," Ryan countered. "It may sound like a fun party, but that's just part of the trap, luring you before it springs and then, bam, stuck in the doldrums." The boy's continued insistence elicited a giggle from me. "If you say so." "I do," Ryan affirmed. "And make sure you give my cousins' kids a wide berth. They may look cute, but they're really a horde of a wild monkeys, and they will tackle you, if they think they can get you to play." "Well, luckily I have a big, strong man here to protect me," I cooed like some fainting damsel as I grabbed Ryan's arm and clung to it for safety. Rolling his eyes, Ryan gave a slight tug on his arm, but while I might have been joking, I was holding on for real, refusing to let him go. "Uhm ... Abby?" Looking up, I smiled innocently. "Yes?" "You're committed to this bit, aren't you?" Ryan guessed, shoulders slumping. "Yep," I confirmed, nestling up against him. "Besides, this way everyone we meet won't have to keep asking if I'm your girlfriend, because it'll be obvious." "And my embarrassment just isn't a concern?" Ryan inquired. "Nope!" I answered simply before giving the boy a tug. "Now, come on. The party awaits!" A heavy sigh slid out of Ryan, but he relented to the insistent tug, letting me pull him away from the car and toward the gathering. In direct contrast to Ryan's mopey trudging, I strolled along with willing eagerness. After all, I'd never been a part of a big family gathering before. When I finally turned the corner around the house and got my first sight of the celebration, I was not disappointed. There were dozens of people roaming about in the backyard, from what appeared to be a baby boy sitting on the table in front of his mother all the way up to a decidedly grouchy looking old man in a wheelchair whose much friendlier looking wife sat beside him. It was incredible to think that, in spite of their number, they were all related to one another. Well, there might be a few other dates or spouses in the mix, but still, it was a big family. "RyRy!" a middle-aged woman belted out as she disengaged from another conversation to scurry over to us new arrivals. When she was close, she went right in for a hug with Ryan which proved a bit awkward with me still holding tightly to his arm. She didn't seem to notice that, though, giving him a big smooch on the cheek before pulling back. "How is my favorite nephew, and who is this lovely young lady who's eyeing me like a watchdog does an intruder." "I'm great, Aunt Linds," Ryan answered before turning to gesture toward me. "And this is my girlfriend, Abby Harper." "Really?!" Ryan's Aunt gasped, clutching her hands just below her throat as she looked at me in astonishment. "Well that's just wonderful! You're very lucky girl, my dear, 'cause RyRy is the best man in the whole family, and us Verlanders are known for making great men. Why, I'm raising three of 'em right now just hoping to get one of them to be better than RyRy here." "Aunt Linds ..." Ryan groaned with obvious embarrassment. "What?! It's true!" the boy's aunt declared grandly, going so far as to swat him on the shoulder. However, that hit seemed to dismiss him from her mind as her attention immediately shot back to me. "But enough of us, dear. I'm just dying to hear about you and how you ended up with our dear little RyRy, so let's get you introduced around, so you can start telling that story." "Oh ... uhm ..." I mumbled, suddenly realizing that I had a problem. "It's not much of a story. We were just friends from school." "Aw, don't be shy," the older woman refused my excuse, reaching out to grab my arm, creating a chain that allowed her drag both me and Ryan toward the rest of the family. Unsure what else to do, I let myself be led on, but I glanced back at Ryan along the way, looking for help. Grinning, he just shrugged while mouthing, "You wanted this." That earned the boy a sour look from me, but that was all the reproving that I had time for before Lindsey belted out, "You'll never guess who RyRy brought with him today!" After that, I was too busy trying to remember names during introductions and answering all sorts of questions to have time for Ryan. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Whew ...." I breathed as I sagged back against the kitchen counter after finally escaping the clutches of Ryan's family. Ryan chuckled. "I warned you that this wasn't gonna be fun." "You warned me that it was going to be boring!" I retorted. "Not that your family was going to set upon me like a pack of wolves!" "Yeah, sorry, that sorta slipped my mind," Ryan apologized. "Really?" I questioned doubtfully. "'Cause knowing you, you just thought it would be a hilarious prank." "Well, it has kept things from being dull," Ryan admitted. "But no, I wasn't trying to prank you. I mean, some of my cousins have brought dates with them, so I technically knew how they'd react, but I've never actually been a part of it before. You're the first girlfriend that I've ever brought with me, and I never cared about who anyone else was dating, so I'd always just sorta ignored it." "Yeah ... sure ..." I muttered sarcastically, although, I didn't actually disbelieve the boy. After all, he'd taken his own hits during the coordinated mass interrogation as family members said embarrassing things about how their 'Little RyRy' was all grown up or asked me questions that were blunt or probing well passed the point of propriety, such as when we were getting married. If it had been meant as a prank, he'd done as much to prank himself as he had me. Shrugging, Ryan segued, "Anyway, at least they seem to have lost interest." "For now," I added as if his family was some horror movie villain waiting for another chance. "Yeah ..." Ryan agreed with a chuckle before pointing toward the fridge. "Want a drink?" "I don't suppose I could get a scotch," I joked. Pulling open the fridge, Ryan clicked his tongue. "Hmm ... sorry don't see any scotch. All I see is about three dozen cans of cheap-o beer and a few two liters of cola for the kids." "Ugh ... anything's better than cheap beer," I replied. "Good, 'cause my mom might actually explode if she caught us drinking," Ryan answered as he grabbed an open two liter. Walking over to a cabinet he pulled out a couple of plastic cups for us and started pouring. "Then we should probably do that. Right?" I remarked, walking over to rest my arms on the counter next to the boy. "You wouldn't have to deal with her anymore." "Not quite how it works," Ryan replied with a smirk just before he finished pouring. Setting down the bottle, he scooped up one of the cups to offer it to me. "Here ya go." "Thanks," I chirped gratefully, immediately bringing the cup to my lips to take a long drink that helped quench the considerable thirst I'd built up answering questions. "You're welcome," Ryan answered before taking a quick sip of his own drink. After that, he scooped up the two liter to go put it away. While my date did that, I finished my drink, letting out a contented sigh. Once that was done, I settled into toying with the rim of my cup with one finger, while I looked over at Ryan. "So ... assuming your family doesn't start up the interrogation again as soon as we go back out there, what should we do next?" "Uhm ... well ..." Ryan stalled as he closed the fridge door to lean against it. "It's about time for my uncle to start grilling, so we'll be eating pretty soon ..." "But not right away," I pointed out. "Yeah ..." Ryan confirmed, rubbing at the back of his head. "So what do we do while we wait?" I inquired. Ryan took one last moment to think of something before, finally, he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Getting grilled aside, I did say this was gonna be pretty boring." "You did, and I can't imagine we can whip out your uncle's guns for some range time with all the little kids running around," I remarked lightly. "Definitely not," Ryan confirmed. "One of those little hooligans would get themselves shot for sure." With that idea a nonstarter, I tossed the boy a suggestive look. "Well ... we could always amuse ourselves ... as a couple." "Ah ah," Ryan immediately refused, wagging a finger at me. "Remember, no jumping on me." "I don't have to jump on you for us to make out," I pointed out, setting down my cup to walk over to him and raise my hands to link them behind his neck. "I could always just pull you down to me." To my surprise, Ryan actually tipped his head down to bring out lips together. Of course, it was just a quick little peck before he pulled back with a grin on his face, but it was more than unexpected enough to shake me from my seductive act. "Sorry, but that's all you're gonna get." Releasing the boy, I fell back, forcing a little laugh as I looked down at the floor. "Yeah ... of course. I was just teasing you." "Somehow, I don't think that would've stopped you if I'd said yes," Ryan joked as he slipped by me to pick up not just his own cup but mine as well. "Now, come on. Let's get back out to your adoring public before one of them comes looking for us." Smiling softly, I nodded. "Yeah, sure. Right behind ya." *********************************************** *********************************************** The cracks, whizzes, pops, and blasts of fireworks filled the air. Up above, the twilight sky, just starting to show stars, was painted in bright colors that were splayed out in all sorts of patterns. Most of the little rockets were shot off by fathers or older teens while the younger children gasped and squealed in delight at the sights and sounds. Those not involved in either activity sat around tables chatting about the typical topics of life while enjoying the background tableau that was created, except for Ryan and me. Rather than be a part of either crowd, Ryan and I had decided to sit off the side, using the wall of the house as a backrest and a spread out blanket as a cushion. Somehow, I'd even managed to convince him to let me snuggle up against him, although, in truth he hadn't put up any fight. When I'd shifted closer and laid against him, his only reaction had been to shift enough to comfortably slide an arm around my shoulder. Like that, we watched the fireworks display, far enough from the rest of the gathering to feel like it was just the two of us. "So ..." Ryan began under the sound of fireworks bursting. "Night's almost over. Regret coming along?" Smiling, I shook my head. "Nope. Not one bit." "Not even that bit where you got grilled for like two hours straight?" Ryan inquired with a smirk. "Okay, maybe that bit," I admitted, giggling softly. "But even that wasn't all that awful. I mean, I got to learn more about you and your family, after all." "Well, that's just unreasonably optimistic," Ryan joked. Laughly lightly, I nestled in a little closer to the boy while saying, "I guess I just like you that much." While my voice was mostly teasing, Ryan's response of, "I like you a lot, too," was utterly serious. At once, I felt a sudden nervousness over my close proximity to the boy, and yet, I felt this big stupid smile burning on my face. It was just too perfect of a moment with the fireworks in the background and the way his arm wrapped around me. There was no room for any of the doubts that had needled at me over the last few weeks. In that moment, it felt like we were truly a couple, like things had finally worked out. As if to prove that to me, I felt Ryan shifting. He put himself into the perfect position to lift my chin and bring our lips together, and unlike earlier, it wasn't for some chaste, little peck before pulling away. No, this time, he held on, keeping us locked together for second after eternal second until, finally, an especially powerful blast from a firework signalled him to break away. Even then, he lingered only a couple of inches away, so close that I could feel his quick, heavy breaths, and he could probably feel mine, too. "I love you, Abby." The words echoed in the gap between us, louder than any firework, even though, Ryan had pronounced them at little more than a whisper. Still, they seemed to explode out of his lips, catching me completely off guard. My eyes widened. My body stiffened. I even leaned back a bit, so badly was a reeling from the surprise. Even worse, through all of that reaction, I couldn't think of the most important reaction of all. How was I supposed to answer? It was like his words had blasted my entire mind clean, leaving nothing but their impression stamped into my consciousness. He loved me? What did that mean? Did I love him back? Should I say it even if I didn't? All might have been good questions to ask, but there were drowned out by the reverberation of those four simple words. Unlike me, Ryan did not seem lost. He was ready with his next move, pressing back in for another kiss. In a daze, I kissed back, mind still torn asunder by the declaration. Ryan, though, poured the emotion behind his words into me through his lips, and there was a lot of it, too much for me to really handle. It was a torrent of affection like some rain-swollen river bursting over its banks, and all I could do was sit there, let it wash over me, and hope that I survived to its conclusion. That conclusion was a long way away, however. Ryan didn't just settle for one long, passionate kiss. He broke it up into short, intense moments of contact followed by brief gaps where we could both suck in a short gasp of breath before we were locked together once more. Rattled as it was, it took my mind a moment to realize what that meant. We were making out, just like I'd been pushing for. Yet, there I was, feeling like the situation was completely out of my control. Even my own body was beyond my ability to coordinate, reciprocating more on instinct than any sort of rational decision. In that moment, I couldn't have made a rational decision to save my life. Eventually, though, reason did prevail. The last of the big fireworks was used, leaving only little firecrackers and the like for the children. Without the distraction of the display to cover our actions, Ryan broke away, with a murmured, "We should probably stop." "Yeah ..." I agreed breathlessly, gaze falling to the ground. "I'm really glad you decided to come," Ryan told me, seeming to just pick up our earlier conversation as if the make out session hadn't interrupted it. "You being here made this by far the best fourth of July ever." The normalcy of the conversation helped reintegrate my scattered thoughts, at least enough to get me to smile. "Yeah, I'm glad I did, too." "Unfortunately, now we're gonna have to go through all the farewells, so that we can get out of here," Ryan remarked. "You may get hugged a few times." Giggling helplessly, I shrugged. "That's alright as long as none of them are from that cousin of yours that spent the whole night leering at me." "Don't worry. I'm not gonna let that little perv anywhere near ya," Ryan promised. "Great, then, uh ... I guess we should get up and rejoin the others?" I proposed. "Uhm ... I guess ..." Ryan agreed with a distinct and obvious reluctance. For my part, I scrambled to my feet pretty eagerly, even when legs stiff from too long sitting on the ground complained. I needed distance, and the best way to get it was to put a whole family worth of people between me and Ryan. *********************************************** *********************************************** "He loves me ..." I mumbled as I finally returned home to flop onto my bed. I would've liked to have said that I must have misheard the boy, but there was simply no doubt in my mind about what had been said. In fact, it was hard to imagine any memory being more certain than that of Ryan's proclamation. It had definitely happened. Strangely, as certain as I was about its occurance, I was much less certain that Ryan even realized what he'd said. At no point, did he show any hint of embarrassment over it nor did he make any further mention of it after we'd rejoined his family. Even once we'd said all the goodbyes and left the party, he spent the entire drive home talking about perfectly normal things. His good night kiss to me had been simple and chaste compared to our make out session from earlier. It had just been so utterly normal, like any of the other dates he and I had been on together. "Maybe he really doesn't realize what he said?" I mused, wondering if that was possible. Could he have let something slip while meaning to say something else? Could he not even remember saying anything at all? That seemed unlikely. If not that, then maybe I was just overthinking the boy's words. Maybe, it just didn't mean much. Maybe, it was just a totally normal expression of satisfaction with the way things were. Maybe ... But Ryan had said my name. It wasn't just an, 'I love you'. He had specifically added Abby to the end of it, as if cordoning her off from all the rest. That could just be because we were further along in this relationship than any other, and understandably so. After all, it would be silly for Ryan to love Andy. They were just friends. Becka could love him, but she was obviously not as comfortable in the female role as I was, so it would make sense for her to take more time. There was just one problem with that train of thought, anyone loving anyone seemed like a problem. This wasn't supposed to be about love. It was supposed to be about fun. There was no Abby or Becka, not really. They were temporary magical creations, fantasies, not something lasting. It would be like falling in love with a dream. "I just must be overthinking it," I decided. Shaking my head, I shoved myself back to my feet to get ready for bed. In spite of my resolution, however, thoughts of Ryan's words were never far from my mind. They haunted me as I got ready. They haunted me as I laid back down. They haunted me as seconds turned to minutes turned to hours while I lay there, unable to sleep. I just couldn't shake the feeling that they had to be significant. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Sure. He hit pretty hard, but not as hard as I hit him back, that's for damn sure," one of my friends prattled on, telling a story of a short-lived brawl at a party. I wasn't really listening, though. Truthfully, I'd hardly paid attention to any of the group of friends I was currently hanging out with. I hadn't seen or even really thought about them in weeks - not that my lack of attention had garnered any resentment. After all, my company meant free stuff, which any kid in school was always glad for. Unfortunately, I found myself getting little in terms of reciprocation. The whole point in coming out with these guys had been to distract myself, but they'd done a terrible job of it. I was bored, and had been practically since the moment that I'd sat down, making it easy for me to drift of into my own thoughts even as my friends talked and laughed. At least, it was easy to do that, until I heard my phone ringing. Pulled back into the world, I lifted the device, expecting to find the call being from someone I had no interest in talking to. It wasn't. The number on the screen was one that was quite important, and its appearance stole a beat from my heart. Quickly, I jabbed accept and pulled the phone up to my ear. "Ryan?" I greeted as I got up to get away from my noisy friends. "Hey, man. You okay?" my friend's voice asked. "Haven't heard from you in a bit." "I could say the same for you," I pointed out. "I guess, but you're usually the one that calls me," Ryan countered. That was true. I usually did call the other boy, but that didn't mean I was going to just let it go. "Yeah, so what you can't pick up a phone?" "No ...? I mean, I'm calling you right now, aren't I?" Ryan answered uncertainly. Yes, Ryan had finally called me, but the timing of that call seemed rather ... suspicious. After all, it hadn't come a few days after our last date, when I failed to call to set up the next Andy and Becka date. It hadn't come when that date didn't happen, leaving Ryan free of having to go to the park for the week. It hadn't even come during the time after that where we usually hung out as Andy and Ryan. No, it came on a Thursday, one week since the boy had told Abby he loved her, and the day before our usual date night. "You are," I conceded neutrally. On the other end, Ryan paused for a moment before he queried, "Uhm ... are you mad? Is it because we skipped a Becka thing this week, 'cause I figured you must've not wanted to do it or you would've called." "No, nothing like that," I answered truthfully. At least, I thought that was the truth. Should I be mad? "Okay ..." Ryan replied with obvious doubt about my claim. "Anyway ... I was wondering, well, mostly if you were okay. But, since you seem to be, I was wondering if we were skipping Abby this week, too." "Do you want to?" I inquired. "What?" Ryan questioned in surprise. "Do you want to skip it?" I repeated myself before adding, "Or would you prefer I stopped by the park tomorrow." "Uhm ... well ..." Ryan stalled uncertainly. "I mean, it's up to you really. If you don't-" I felt my jaw clench, teeth grinding together as I hissed, "Tell me which you want." Another pause filled with empty silence answered me before my friend spoke. "Okay. What's going on? Something's up with you." "It's nothing," I assured my friend. "I'll change and come by your place tomorrow like usual." For a third time, there was a pause, but when Ryan spoke again, it wasn't to press the issue, but to say, "Alright. See ya then." "Yeah, see ya," I replied quickly before hanging up the phone. Once I had, I let out a heavy sigh, then turned around and trudged back to my friends' table. *********************************************** *********************************************** Outside the car, the lights of the town whizzed by, but they were nothing but a blur to me, no more a part of my world than the stars above were a part of the Earth. Everything that existed might as well have been inside that car. No, it could even be narrowed down to the front seat, to just Ryan and me. As usual, the boy was driving, doing so with the casual ease of someone well-familiar with it by now. The thrill was clearly gone for him, but he still always took my keys, even going so far as to ask for them if I didn't hand them over unprompted. That was fine, though, even prefered, but either way, it was just the way things worked with us. Unlike usual, we weren't chatting away during the ride. Ryan's attention lay fully on the road ahead. Mine lay on him, on features that I knew weren't really all that handsome, but due to the park's magic certainly seemed that way to me while I was Abby. Was it just magic, though? Did he look more handsome than I remembered? Certainly, there had been many moments throughout the night where I'd wanted to kiss him or, more specifically, for him to kiss me. Was that just out of a desire to have fun or was there something more to it? "Alright, I've stayed quiet as long as I can," Ryan suddenly broke the silence. Snapping from my thoughts with a start, I crinkled my brow at the boy. "Huh?" "Something's weird with you," Ryan commented. "You're just sitting there staring at me like I'm ... I don't even know ... an alien specimen? What's going on?" "Nothing," I dismissed the question out of hand, turning to look out the window. "Eyes gotta land somewhere. Might as well be on something cute." "Yeah ... that excuse might work for me, 'cause you're that cute, but I'm certainly not," Ryan critiqued. "Besides, it's not just now. You were weird on the phone yesterday, too, and really quiet all night. Something is clearly bothering you." Jaw tightening, I insisted, "No. It isn't," pronouncing the words with clipped sharpness. "Why won't you just tell me?" Ryan questioned. "Maybe I can help." "Because there's nothing to tell!" I snapped, the fever pitch of the words belying their intended meaning. In spite of how badly that outburst betrayed me, it was enough to get Ryan to fall silent. That was probably just because of shock, though. After all, how often did I lose my cool like that? Basically never. Silence wasn't exactly a good thing, however. After my reaction, I felt self-conscious, and having nothing but the radio to fill the emptiness was awkward. Not willing to glance over at Ryan after him calling me out for it, I couldn't tell if he felt the same way, but he probably did. Either way, the rest of the, thankfully short, drive back to his house passed without anyone speaking. Parking the car, Ryan turned off the engine, but he didn't move to get out. That served to make the silence even more awkward for one unbearable moment, before I forced the situation by shoving my door open, scrambling out, and starting toward his front door. That got Ryan to get out and follow after me, but it did nothing to fix the tension. In many ways, it only made it worse, especially once I stopped on his porch, pointedly refusing to look at my date. However, in spite of my efforts to disengage, Ryan did not grant me a quick or clean exit. He stopped there right in front of me, undoubtedly staring as he toyed with my keys - the item that I would need to leave. It was also the item that he made no move to return. "Well ... good night," I broke the silence, trying to move the situation along. There was no immediate answer, making me think that I was going to have to try something more direct. Before I could open my mouth to follow that path, though, I saw Ryan start to move. Expecting the return of my keys, I started to extend a hand, but contact came somewhere else first. Ryan's lips brushed my cheek, followed by a faint smooching sound. "Whatever it is, I hope you feel better soon," Ryan told me, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, he finally set my keys in my hand. "I'll be here if you want to talk." After that, the boy just turned and walked through the door to his house, leaving me standing there feeling like a complete asshole. In spite of that, I didn't call out to him. Part of me wanted to, but this whole thing was his fault, and I didn't even want to talk to him about it. Somehow, I knew that, if I did, it would break something I didn't want broken. Letting out a heavy sigh, I swallowed every word that might have sprung from my lips and turned away. The walk back to my car was a long, tedious trudge. The drive back to my house a dour procession. And at the end of it all, I was left lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling without any idea of what the hell I was supposed to do. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Ryan's in love with ..." I declared, gesturing down at my body - Abby's body. " ... this." "Really? What makes you say that?" Anya inquired as she sat behind a desk in the park's main office, leaning forward with her chin resting in her hand. "Because he said it," I retorted sharply, annoyed that the mind- reading, future-seeing witch felt the need to demand some sort of proof from me. Anya raised an eyebrow at that. "Wow. I guess that means you're plan worked." "What?!" I blurted incredulously. "My plan wasn't to get him to fall in love with me!" "It wasn't?" Anya asked, clearly meaning to sound surprised, but certainly not actually feeling that way. "Of course not! We were just supposed to have fun together not ...!" I exclaimed, once more gesturing down at myself. "This isn't real!" Shifting position, Anya leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. "Really? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you've always argued the exact opposite of that." "Ugh!" I growled in frustration. "That's not what I mean! Obviously, it real in the moment, but it's not ... !" Trailing off, I floundered about for the right word while grinding my teeth together. "Lasting?" Anya offered. "Yes! Exactly!" I latched onto the word. Shaking my head, I added in a mutter, "Abby's a fantasy that only shows up a couple days a week. She's not a real person. She's certainly not supposed to have anyone falling in love with her." Anya actually laughed at that claim. It wasn't just some mocking snicker either. It was a legitimately mirthful giggle as if I had said something absurd. Naturally, I was far less amused, narrowing my eyes as I demanded, "What are you laughing at?" "You obviously," Anya answered as she fought to corral her good humor. "What did you think was gonna happen, Andy? That you were just gonna put a dream girl in front of a sixteen year old boy and he wasn't gonna fall in love with her?" "That's not ... I didn't ... " I struggled to come up with a compelling argument before finally just belting out. "He knows she's not real!" Rolling her eyes, Anya shook her head. "No, Abby. He knows that she is real. He talks to her. He kisses her. He holds her in his arms." Huffing in frustration, I spun away from the woman with fists clenched in rage. I wanted to punch something, but there was nothing to punch. I wanted to argue, but those claims were as simple as they were irrefutable. They were exactly the sort of claims that I had used to convince Ryan to try a relationship in the first place, now thrown back in my face with what had to be smug certainty. "I don't know why you're so angry," Anya remarked to my back. "When you first started playing around with all this switching and back and forth, my grandmother warned you that the park wasn't a toy. When you came up with this scheme of yours, my grandmother and I both warned you that it was a terrible plan and that you weren't going to like where you ended up. But no, you were so certain that you were right and we were wrong, that nothing ever has or could go wrong for you." Spinning back around, I leveled the most loathsome glare at the woman that I had ever leveled at anything in my entire life. "And you're just loving it, aren't you?! Sitting there all smug and self- satisfied because you were right and I was wrong!" Any hint of a good mood vanished from Anya's face at my words, replaced by a sad little smile. "No, Abby. In spite what you might think, I actually do care about you, but you didn't want to listen. You just wanted to find a way to use everything, me, the park, Ryan. Even had I told you that you'd end up exactly here, you wouldn't have believe me. You would've just demanded I tell you what you needed to tweak to end up where you wanted, but that's the thing. You were never gonna get to where you wanted, because you don't know what you want." "That's not true," I denied. "All I wanted was to be friends with someone who knew about the park, and didn't mind my swapping." Screwing her face up, Anya looked at me incredulously. "Well, that's just a flat out lie. You didn't need Ryan to change into Becka every week for that. You didn't need him to date you as Abby for that either." "Alright, so I wanted to - casually - date that person, too," I conceded. "That's the funny thing about dating, you don't get to decide how casually the other person takes it," Anya pointed out. "In fact, you don't even really get to decide how casually you take it. I mean, I doubt Ryan meant to fall in love with you. He knows you're really Andy. It just happened." Groaning, I rubbed at my head. "Well how do I make it unhappen?!" "You could break up with him," Anya suggested. "It wouldn't exactly make it unhappen, though. It would just break his heart." "Which I don't want to do, even if it wouldn't also ruin our friendship," I grumbled. "Then I guess you keep dating him," Anya answered. "It's not like he's demanded you stay Abby forever or something, right?" "No ... " I conceded reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean he won't, especially if I keep leading him on." Anya smirked. "What's this? Actually feeling guilty for using someone?" "I never used him!" I blasted out. "We had a deal that he agreed to." "Then it's his fault for not sticking to it, right?" Anya remarked. "Because the guidelines were so clearly defined and set in stone." Rolling my eyes, I growled, "Whatever. I don't want to be mean to the guy. He's my best friend." "You've had lots of best friends this year," Anya pointed out. "Hasn't stopped you from ditching them the moment they didn't live up to what you wanted." "That's different!" I refuted, but it sounded empty, even to me. Sighing, Anya tossed a look my way like a mother dealing with a stubborn child. "Look, Abby, you always knew this wasn't going to last. A year from now, you're going to be off at college on your way to following the same path as your brother and sister: get a degree, find a job, then settle down somewhere far away from your parents. You're days of living next to a magical park that lets you switch around all the time are numbered." "You're right, I do know that, which as you may remember, was exactly why I found Ryan," I argued. "Yes, but it's also exactly the reason why it shouldn't matter if you keep dating him," Anya explained. "Now or a year from now, you're still gonna break his heart. Might as well have fun while you have the chance, right?" That reasoning all seemed sound. If Ryan truly did love me, then no matter what, I was going to have to break his heart at some point. Was there any reason why I shouldn't just ignore it and keep going like I had been? "Unless ..." Anya remarked as if moving on the exact same train of thought. "You're worried that he's not the only that's falling in love." "Pfft! That's ridiculous," I scoffed. "I can't fall in love with him. He's a guy. I'm a guy." "You don't look like a guy right now," Anya noted smoothly. Eyes narrowing in annoyance, I tapped a finger on my temple, "Yes, but that doesn't change up here." "Oh please," Anya dismissed. "Up there's such a mess that you haven't stayed the same gender for a whole week in years. Your mind is as much girl as boy." "No, because I don't want to get stuck as a girl," I countered. "Yes, so you've always said," Anya conceded that point, but only to transition to her real argument of, "But if you were being honest, you don't really want to get stuck as a boy either, do you?" Suddenly, I was on the spot in the midst of Anya's gaze which was piercing both in appearance and reality. Undoubtedly, there were limits to that gaze, but I knew it could see thought, feeling, past, and future. It was not the sort of thing that could be hidden from. "Th-That's not ... " I stuttered out a failed start before wincing at my mistake. Gathering myself, I tried again, "I've been through this with both you and Grandmother. I am a boy, and I'm staying a boy." "I didn't say you hadn't made that decision," Anya clarified. "I'm saying you don't like it." "So what?!" I demanded. "Yeah, obviously, I would prefer to have a magic park around, so that I could just bounce back and forth whenever I wanted like I do now, but that's not gonna happen." Anya shook her head. "No, you don't really like that either. If you did, you wouldn't have felt the need to find Ryan. Besides, there's college and jobs here in town. Yes, there's also your parents, but if the park meant that much to you, you could stay." "So what are you saying, that I actually do wanna be a girl, even though I say I don't, and have been so consistent in doing so that I'd never even thought about what sort of girl I'd choose to be if I was stuck as one?" I questioned hostiley. "I'm saying that you're a kid who has no idea what she wants," Anya told me. "Also, you should talk to Ryan about this. Poor guy does actually love you, so he's done nothing but worry about you since last night." Wincing, my gaze fell to the floor. Some of that was just the sting of defeat, because I couldn't find any way to refute Anya's claims. I didn't want to be stuck as anything, and bouncing around by myself had felt ... empty. These few weeks with Ryan had been great, but that just led to the other cause for the wince - guilt. "That's exactly why I can't talk to him about this," I muttered. "What if he asks me to stay Abby? What am I supposed to say? We've only really been going out for a few weeks. That's not enough time for ... anything." "It was enough time for him to fall in love with you," Anya pointed out. "Yeah, well ... Ryan's not exactly the most experienced when it comes to girls, and I'm pretty amazing," I reasoned. "How modest," Anya remarked sarcastically. "Hey, at least half of that praise goes to you," I countered. "You're the one that created Abby." "No, I just brought her into the real world," Anya corrected. Chuckling, I shook my head. "Whatever. It's still not enough time." "Whatever. You should still talk to him," Anya directed, mocking my delivery. "You might learn something." Sighing, I mumbled, "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of." *********************************************** *********************************************** "You were upset because I said I love you?" Ryan questioned incredulously as he and I sat on the porch steps in front of his house. "No, I mean, I wasn't upset, exactly," I tried to explain. "More ... confused I guess." "Huh," Ryan hummed. "Strange thing to be mad about." "I wasn't-!" I started to protest only to cut myself off with a growl while jabbing a finger at the boy. "Keep it up and I am gonna get mad." Immediately, Ryan raised his hands in capitulation. "Sorry. I am a little surprised, though. I kinda thought you'd be happy. I mean, it was basically me saying that there were going to be any more ... interruptions." "Oh ..." I mumbled, having not even considered that possible meaning. It was certainly true, though. Immediately after Ryan had made his proclamation had been our first time making out without some sort of issue. In fact, if not for us being a family event, who knew what might have happened. "I guess that means I really missed the mark," Ryan commented, managing a chuckle. There was no mirth in it, though, as he tilted his gaze away from me. "Still, can't believe it ended up being such a problem." "Well, I may have ... overreacted," I admitted. "I mean, this was supposed to just be a casual thing, and then, all of a sudden, you're telling me you love me, and ... I had no idea what I was supposed to do with that." My gaze fell to my lap where my fingers toyed with one another. "I still don't, really." Ryan shrugged. "I wasn't expecting you to do anything with it. I kinda got the feeling you didn't feel the same way about me, and I didn't think everything would suddenly just change because of what I said. I just want to keep dating you, and if that means doing all the rest, that's fine." "So you really do hate being Becka," I surmised. "Well, I've been pretty honest about prefering to be a guy, but, really that's not the worst part," Ryan responded frankly. "At least like that, I can just think of it as some kind of odd roleplay with you where we're gender swapped." "What's the worst part then?" I inquired. "Being friends with Andy," Ryan admitted. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like he's unbearable or something. He's a good friend. It's just, for some reason, it feels like he's ... in my way, I guess. Like if I could just get rid of him, then you and I could date all the time." "I see," I murmured. "Sorry," Ryan apologized. Shaking my head, I told him, "It's fine. You feel how you feel." "Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to feel the same way," Ryan countered. "True, but it doesn't seem fair for me to just impose my will on you, because you're the one who's in love," I pointed out. Seeming truly unbothered, Ryan shrugged off the concern. "Like I said, I don't really mind. Plus, you were willing to make concessions for me, when you were the one who was more invested, so it actually seems kinda fair that I should do it now that I am." "What if you're not," I mumbled, wringing my hands. "... more invested I mean." That insinuation put a shocked expression on Ryan's face as he blinked in surprise. "Is that ... is that you're way of saying you-" "I don't know what I'm saying! I don't know how I feel! I don't really know anything, Ryan!" I interjected before the boy could even give voice to the idea. Groaning in frustration, I buried my face in my hands. Like that, I took a deep, shuddering breath before I added, "All I really feel confident in right now is that I don't want to have to break up or whatever." "Well, it's not an 'I love you, too', but I'll take it," Ryan remarked. Letting my hands fall to my lap, I tossed an exasperated look at the boy. "You just had to say it, didn't you?" "Sorry, I guess I just love you too much to keep it to myself," Ryan replied smoothly. "That's not what I meant, asshole," I hissed through my teeth. "I know," Ryan answered with a smirk. Sighing, I forced my gaze up and a smile onto my face. "I really don't know how you can say that so easily. I'm a guy, y'know?" "No, you're a girl," Ryan countered. "I know this, because you were very insistent that reality is whatever is currently true, regardless of all the rest. Right now, you are my girlfriend, Abby." "What is this, international use people's arguments against them day?" I joked. The effort earned me an odd look from Ryan. "Uhm ... is that supposed to be a reference to something?" "Yes, but not something you'd get, so best to just ignore it," I informed him. "Okay ..." Ryan agreed. Then, with sneaky promptness, silence filled the air. The brief humorous aside had ended, but neither of us seemed willing to get back onto more serious matters. Instead, we both fell into thought and uncertainty, wondering where things should go next. "Do you want me to get Anya to change my pass?" I broke the quiet to ask. "Hmm?" Ryan hummed as he pulled free of his thoughts. "I don't mean, permanent Abby or anything," I quickly clarified. "But ... like ... more time as Abby. Like four days as, three days not or maybe five and -" "I already told you that you didn't need to do anything like that," Ryan cut me off. "Would I like to spend more time with my girlfriend? Sure, but not if that's not what you want." Sighing, I let my weight tip to the side so that I ended up leaning against the boy, even going so far as to rest my head on his shoulder. "I don't know what I want, Ryan." In turn, Ryan wrapped an arm around my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "I can wait until you figure it out. We don't have to change anything right now." "What if I don't figure it out?" I questioned. "I'm going off to college next year, which means no more park and no more Abby." "Well, if that happens, then I suppose that will mean you'll have figured out what you want," Ryan answered. "Otherwise, you wouldn't end up doing it." "Sometimes people do things they don't want just because it's the default option," I pointed out. Ryan shrugged. "True, but it's still a decision being made, even if only to decide that you want to avoid the choice more than you want to make it." "And are you going to be okay if I make it that way, just stay as Andy and leave?" I asked. "Honestly, I don't know," Ryan admitted with genuine vulnerability. "I've thought about this a lot, too much, really, but I've never come up with a good answer. I've never been in love before, and obviously that means I've never been dumped by someone I've loved before. I'm guessing it won't be fun. But, other people have made it through heartbreak, so maybe I can, too. Besides, even if our relationship was completely normal and non-reliant on magic, there would've been a good chance of us breaking up when you graduated, so it's not really anything unusual." "Mmm," I hummed, nodding along with the sentiment. The boy was right. Other people had been dumped before and made it out okay. If anything, it might be easier for Ryan since he was going into it with full knowledge that such a conclusion was all but certain. "So ..." Ryan filled the gap in the conversation, dragging out that word for a couple of seconds. "Are we breaking up or would it be alright if I kissed you? You may recall I sorta had to settle for one on the cheek last night, because - someone - was so grumpy." Giggling, I lifted my head into perfect kissing position. "We're not breaking up, so come on. Lay it on me." Ryan didn't need to be told twice. The moment after he had my permission, our lips met. It was a little awkward at first, both of us still dealing with the uncertainty raised by the conversation that we'd just had, but it didn't last. Before long, all of that faded away and I was just making out with my boyfriend on his parent's front porch. Maybe not the most romantic setting, but that was fine. I knew that he loved me. *********************************************** *********************************************** Epilogue "Hey, Andy. Surprised to see you here," Anya greeted as I walked up to the counter. "Shouldn't you be packing? You're leaving for college tomorrow." "Probably," I replied with a smirk. "The bigger question is if you are really surprised." "No," Anya admitted with uncharastic candor. "But I've only known you'd be coming since I got to work this morning." Sighing, I shook my head. "Whatever, then you know why I'm here." "Obviously, but why don't you go ahead and tell me, anyway," the woman answered as her lips took their turn to curl into a smirk. "It'll be more fun for me that way." That comment earned a sour look from me, but I obliged. "Fine, as you know, Ryan and I have be talking a lot about how to continue things while I'm at school, using texts to pretend I'm Abby and what not." "Right, and ..." Anya pressed, nodding along. "And ..." I continued, annoyance leaking into my voice. "It sounds ... awkward." "Hmm ... interesting ..." Anya hummed obnoxiously. Pursing my lips, I took a long breath before I continued. "Anyway, he's a lot more optimistic about it than I am, plus, I know he really doesn't want to be apart for that long." "And you don't want to be, either," Anya added for me. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I pressed on. "Yes. Exactly. So, I was wondering if I could use the park to solve this." "More schemes, huh," Anya remarked. "You sure that's wise? Your last one is how you got into this mess." "I'm aware," I answered stiffly. "Which is why I didn't come here a couple days ago like I'd planned. I'm guessing skipping my freshman year of college to redo my senior year as a girl would result in complications, and we'd just repeat the problem next year, and all the rest, so I'm not gonna ask for that." "You're not?" Anya double-checked. "Correct," I confirmed. "But you knew that already." "Actually, I didn't," Anya remarked. "There's a lot more ... uncertainty about you than most people. Constantly messing around with magic when you shouldn't is a big part of that." "Yes, yes, I know," I acknowledged dismissively. "What I don't know is if just making the hard decision will work out." "Well, that's life for you," Anya answered vaguely. "All you can do is make a decision then wait to see what happens." "Or I could ask my future seeing friend who swears she does actually care about me, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary," I countered. Anya grinned. "Well, like I said. There's a lot more uncertainty about you than most, so I don't really know for sure either. You know Ryan wouldn't ask this of you. In fact, he'd probably tell you not to, and not without good reason, which is why you didn't talk to him about it. Sacrifices this big tend to lead to resentment down the road." "I'm not worried about that," I dismissed the concern immediately. "Ending up with anyone was always going to lead to this sort of decision. After all, I can't have my future kids blinking and in and out of existence just so I can come to some park to play around." Anya giggled. "We could work it out so that didn't happen." "I know, but as you keep telling me, magic isn't a toy," I replied. "I should stop playing with it before someone gets hurt, especially me." "You could get hurt, anyway," Anya warned. "Not that you have that much to worry about. Ryan's about as committed as a guy can get." "Yeah ..." I mumbled, chuckling softly as I pulled out my wallet. From within, I grabbed my Bikini Beach pass and tossed it onto the counter. "I'll take that lifetime upgrade you and Grandmother are always harping on about. Oh, and could you make Abby the same grade as Ryan but a few months younger? Girls are supposed to be younger than the boys they date." Chuckling, Anya picked up the card. "Sure thing." The End