Wishing And Hoping - Part One free porn video

Wishing and Hoping - Part One By: Light Clark Synopsis: On the fringe of his best friend's social circle, Vali tries to tell himself that he's content with that. In his heart, though, he holds onto secret hopes and wishes, until one fateful night, one of those wishes comes true. Warning: This story is 'technically' set in the Whateley universe. It does not expect any require any real familiarity with that universe to enjoy. However, it does use some of my other characters, most prominently the main character from my story Dreamland. It is not necessary to read that story first, but it is recommended. Chapter 01 "Oooo, I think someone's got a crush," I teased aloud. "What happened to being all tough and disapproving, huh?" Of course, the character in the book I was reading couldn't hear me, but that was part of what made her fun to mock. It's not like she could get offended, and her fictitious nature made her actions as adorable as they were cheesy and clich?. In fact, those latter two traits were actually good things in this case, at least to me. Chuckling at my own remarks, I continued reading, eager to see how the new development would work out. Not that I really needed to read to know the answer to that. The girl in question, the main character, would slowly realize her feelings, make some play for the handsome beau, and he'd choose her over the beautiful but shallow competition. That was just always how such stories went, and knowing that fact made them no less enjoyable. It was the journey that mattered, the exact steps that were taken along the path and the beautiful moments that they led to. Those were the reasons why I read these sort of books, not any desire for something truly unique and unknown. If anything, a divergence from the formula would only make me like it less. I wanted the happy ending. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that I going to find that ending that afternoon as my phone's text alert played. Huffing in frustration, I tossed a marker into my book and set it onto the nightstand before scooping up the phone that rested nearby. When I saw who the message was from, however, my annoyance vanished and a smile cracked my lips. "Bro I'm bored. Come hang out," was the simple note from my best friend, Jordan McDonough. "On my way," I typed back immediately, before hopping off my bed to get ready. That task took some doing, sending me rushing around the room. I'd been planning to spend the day lounging about with my book, not go out, so I had to quickly change into something a little less messy and a little more stylish. Once I was dressed, I darted out of my room and off to the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror. There, I grabbed a comb and gel to fix my bedraggled hair. My efforts weren't going to make me look like some stud. I was too short and stocky with the somewhat chubby features that plagued my whole family to go along with it. At least, I could manage to keep myself from looking like I had a pile of mud dumped on my head by forcing my dark, brown hair into a fashionable style. Unfortunately, it was being a pain today, refusing to lay quite right as I tugged and swiped at it. "Damn!" I huffed as yet another attempt failed, "Argh! Fuck it! I'll just live with it," I conceded spinning from the mirror to get going. After all, I'd already wasted too much time on getting ready. Rushing out of the bathroom, I bounded down the stairs and got all the way to the front door before the demand of, "Where you going?" stopped me in my tracks. Wincing, I turned around to find my mother poking her head into the foyer. We bore a pretty strong resemblance to each other, having the same dark hair, large nose, and rounded features. She even had extra weight to deal with, although she had long ago left stocky behind, turning to truly heavy. The only significant difference was that she was fairly tall while I was not. "Just down to Jordan's to hang out," I answered promptly, wanting the interrogation over with as quickly as possible. "Alright, but stay safe and be back by dinner," my mother directed, her eastern european accent making the words sounds a bit heavy and slow. "I make meatloaf." "Fine, Mom," I agreed immediately, even as I silently cursed the requirement. I would've rather just stayed at Jordan's for dinner. His parent's probably left him money for pizza or something. Still, I had my permission to leave, so I took it, turning back to the door. Unfortunately, my mother wasn't quite done, adding, "Oh, and I make extra, so tell Jordan he welcome to join." "Yes, Mom," I promised without even turning back around. If I let her, my mother would trap me there for a good ten minutes with warnings and plans and whatever else came to mind. As such, I just pulled the door open to get outside and away from her as quickly as I could. "Love you!" my mother called after. As embarrassing as it was to have to say, I forced myself to respond, "Love you, too," before yanking the door closed and taking off at a walk so brisk it was almost a jog. In my haste, I barely registered the world around me. There wasn't really much to see, anyway. Sure, I lived in New York, one of the greatest cities in the world, but it wasn't like my immigrant parents could afford some fancy place in Manhattan. If so, maybe there would be something around worth noticing. Nope, we lived in a small house in Queens, so the only thing around was a painfully ordinary looking suburban street. At the moment, the most exciting occupant of which was some elementary kids playing out in the yard, enjoying their summer break. While my surroundings might have been boring, my destination was anything but. It wasn't because of the building itself. No, that looked much like my own house, just a little ways down the street. Hanging out with Jordan, though, was never dull. Arriving at the other boy's house, I cut across the grass and bounded up to the porch. There, I stopped, taking a moment to catch my breath and give my hair a few quick swipes to fix any strands that had fallen out of place in my haste. I even added a swipe along my brow, just in case any sweat had tried to show up there because of the hot day and exertion. Only once that was all out of the way did I ring the doorbell. "It's open!" I heard Jordan's voice yell from inside. Hearing that, I grabbed the handle to open the door and slip through. In spite of the outward similarities, the interior of the house was quite different from my own. My mother took household chores very seriously, always making sure that the house was neat and clean, even to the point of making my sister and me to help out. Jordan's parents, though, didn't care much about that sort of thing. They were hardly ever home, often working late or spending nights out on the town. They went on a lot of trips, too, leaving their son to do pretty much as he pleased. He was so lucky. Making my way further inside, I turned through the door that led to the living room. There, I found my friend lounging on the couch. His attention was on the phone in his hands initially, but the sound of my approach got him to look up. If someone looked at Jordan and me, they would never guess we were friends. I did my best with what I had, but I was clearly mid-rung on the popularity ladder at best. Jordan, though ... he was something else. He was tall and, like most boys ours age, pretty lean, not stocky like I was. He was already pretty handsome, too, with boyish charm to his face and just the right amount of red in his otherwise brown hair to make it really shine. Combined with those bright green eyes of his, it was no surprise that all the girls in school were after him. "Hey man," my friend began, bobbing his head in greeting before turning back to his phone to type something. "Hey ..." I replied softly. Finishing what he was doing, Jordan set his phone aside and looked up again. "So, what took you so long? I was getting ready to text you again." "Oh, uhm ... my mom caught me on the way out," I lied. That whole exchange had only been a few seconds, hardly enough time to have been noticeable, but I couldn't admit to how much effort I had put into my hair of all things. "You know how she is." "Yeah," Jordan acknowledged. "What she want this time?" "Just the usual stuff, stay safe, be home by dinner," I explained. Jordan had seen me go through similar conversations with my mother plenty of times, so he knew enough to fill in the blanks. The only unusual things about this day were how quickly I'd hurried away, and the dinner invitation that I was supposed to forward. Not that I was going to do that. I mean, it was so embarrassing, although I supposed that it would let me hang out with Jordan longer ... "Oh, and I know it's lame, but she wanted me to invite you, too, y'know, if you want to come over to eat. If not, I can just make up an excuse for you ... whatever." In spite of my weak sell, Jordan actually considered the offer for a moment, squinting his eyes a little. "Hmm ... what's she making?" "Meatloaf?" I answered tentatively, not sure if that was a good entree or not. "Mmm, your mom makes the best meatloaf. Plus, I could just pocket that money my parents left me ..." Jordan talked himself into the idea. "Y'know what, yeah, I'll join you guys." "Great!" I exclaimed, surprised that the offer had worked out so well. "Anyway, that's still a ways away, so why don't you have a seat?" Jordan offered, gesturing to one of the other spots around him. For a moment, I glanced at the other end of the sofa the boy was on, but I ended up going toward a recliner, instead. Sitting on the edge, I leaned forward and looked back to Jordan. The other guy didn't say anything else, though, nor did he move around. As such, we just sort of looked at each other for a moment. "So, uhm ..." I began, looking down and scratching at my neck. "Was there something you wanted to do?" "Nah, not really," Jordan answered dismissively. "That's the problem. There ain't nothing around here." "I know what you mean," I commiserated. "Stupid suburbs." "Totally," the other boy agreed with disdain. "Can't wait till we're old enough to drive." "Yeah, it's so unfair that my sister gets to just go wherever she wants while I have to sit around the house with nothing," I complained. The hum of Jordan's phone vibrating had the boy grabbing the device, putting the conversation on hold. I watched as he read something off the screen, smirked, then started to type out a reply. Just that was enough to pique my curiosity. "Andrea?" I guessed. "Yeah, she's out with her friends today," Jordan explained without looking up from his phone. "Keeps sending me pictures of the stupid shit they're doing." "Ah ..." I breathed in acknowledgement, even as a slight scowl invaded my face. Since Jordan and Andrea had started dating, we hadn't been hanging out as much. He was always busy with her. Apparently, he'd rather be busy with her right now, too. I was just a fill in while she wasn't around. "Y'know that's what we should do," Jordan remarked, not really noticing my reaction. Confused, I looked up from my thoughts and furrowed my brow. "Hmm? What now?" "We should work on finding you a girlfriend," the other boy explained. "That way we could double date and stuff." "Oh ..." I mumbled, looking down again. "There any girls out there you like?" Jordan inquired. "I could give ya some pointers for pickin' 'em up." Keeping my gaze down, I shook my head. "Nah, not really." "Well, what's your type?" the other boy tried. "T, A, big, small, white, black?" This time, I went with a noncommittal shrug. "Not really into anything in particular." "Oh, come on! You gotta have some preference! I see you checking out girls all the time!" Jordan countered. "Like that one girl ... uhm ... what's her name, y'know, the brunette that's a couple lockers down from you." "Anna," I supplied the girl's name. She was a half mexican girl who had a really cute sense of fashion. "And there was that redhead at the movies a little while back," my friend continued. "You remember her?" It took a moment of thought before this one clicked for me. Part of that was because I hadn't really been paying attention to her hair. It had been her walk that drew my attention. She was kind of a heavy girl, but she'd had this way of moving that was so graceful that I couldn't help but wonder how she managed it. "Yeah, I remember," I confirmed with a nod. "So which one's more your type?" Jordan segued back to his original topic. Like before, I shrugged. "I don't know. Neither of 'em, really." That answer earned me a skeptical look from my friend, but thankfully, he didn't keep pressing. "Alright, but I'm gonna be watching. Next time I catch you checkin' a girl out, I'm gonna make you talk to her." "Ugh ... come on," I groaned. "I don't want to talk to random girls just 'cause I happen to glance at 'em." "Well, too bad," Jordan countered sharply. "That's what you get for not just telling me your type." It was a ploy to get me to cave and give a proper answer, but there was no way I was going to do that. Instead, I just sighed wearily. "Jordan ... seriously? Can't you just drop this? Not everyone's all about dating, y'know?" "Sure, but everyone's got an interest in it," my friend remarked with a grin. "'Sides, I'm tired of not gettin' to hang out with my best friend 'cause he's scared of girls." "I'm not-" I started to argue. "Nuh uh!" Jordan interrupted, wagging a finger at me. "You don't get to make that claim until you actually talk to one." "I talk to girls all the time," I tried. "As their friend or a classmate or their younger brother," the other boy dismissed. "That doesn't count." Thwarted, I was left with nothing to do but sigh again. "Fine, but when she shoots me down, that's the end of it. Alright?" "Shoots you down?!" Jordan questioned incredulously. "Why do you think she's gonna do that." "'Cause she's probably gonna be some random girl who's probably way out of my league," I pointed out. "Hey," my friend began with sudden seriousness. "You can't think like that, man. No girl's outta your league. You just gotta be confident." That response had me rolling my eyes. "Yeah, sure." "I'm serious," Jordan insisted. "You swagger up to a chick like you're the hottest shit in town and she'd be lucky to have you, and she's yours like that." He even added a snap for emphasis. "Whatever," I conceded, tired of arguing. "I already said I'd try, so can we drop it already?" "Alright, alright," Jordan finally relented. "Let's just like watch a movie or something." "Sounds great," I agreed, glad to be off the topic of girls and back to just hanging out. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 02 "Mmm," Jordan moaned as he took his first bite, quickly chewed it up, and swallowed. "As delicious as always, Mrs. G." "Thank you," my mother beamed at the praise. "It so nice that you could join us." "And it was so nice of you to invite me, too," my friend replied charmingly. Not that it seemed like he was trying too hard. That was just how he always was, so personable and easy going. He could make friends with anyone, anywhere, over anything. It was amazing. My mother seemed to have a similar opinion, smiling brightly even as she tried to wave off the boy's gratitude. "Oh, stop. You like family; always welcome." Undoubtedly, Jordan had a glib response ready for that as well, but he never got to voice it, because that was the moment my older sister, Misha, decided to blow into the kitchen. That pulled everyone's attention toward her - not that she cared. She just favored the meal with a look of disdain before plopping down in her seat. "Nice of you to finally show up," my mother remarked with obvious disapproval. "Sorry, had to finish getting ready," my sister answered absently as she peered about the table skeptically. Eventually, her gaze settled on the bowl of vegetables and reached forward to serve herself a couple spoonfuls. "Getting ready for what?" our mother interrogated. Plopping the second spoonful onto her plate forcefully, Misha rolled her eyes and let out a little huff. "I'm just hanging out with some friends, Mom, jeez." "Alright, but make sure you home by eleven," our mother insisted. Another eye rolled came in response. "But Mom! None of the other girls have curfews!" "I not other girls' mother. I your mother, and I say you come home by eleven or you not leave at all," our mother retorted staunchly. "Isn't that right, Andrik?" That appeal was to the last member of the family, who, as usual sat at the head of the table, silent except for his chewing. That person was our father. He didn't look like much, on the short side and quite burly, but he was like a hibernating bear, harmless unless someone woke him, and disagreeing with our mother was one of the fastest ways to rouse his ire. "Mmm," our father grunted, a sound of assent, albeit a rather uninterested one. Nodding at the show of support, our mother turned back to Misha. "So, which you choose?" While I sympathized with my sister's plight, I still smirked a little watching her lose the argument. I couldn't have said why, though. It wasn't as if I disliked her or wanted her to not get to have fun. Maybe, I was just glad that I wasn't the only one that had to suffer that sort of thing. My sister was not as amused by the situation as I was, slouching in her seat with a defeated sigh. "Fine ... I'll be home on time." "Good girl," our mother stated, seeming maybe a bit smug over the results. With the conflict resolved, the whole table fell silent, focusing on their meals. Each had their own way of going about it. My mother ate in a very prim and proper way. My father brooded as he shoveled his food into his mouth. My sister mostly just poked and prodded at her meal, undoubtedly on a diet and trying to make our mother think she was eating more than she really was. The person who most concerned me, though, was Jordan. While he was still eating, it was only absently with none of his previous delight in the meal. Instead, his attention was on Misha. If I was being fair, I could understand why. My sister put a lot of effort into her looks, diet, exercise, fashion, and more. As such, even though she had some extra weight like everyone in our family, it wasn't much. She even dressed to minimize it further, disguising her slightly thick waist while emphasizing her full butt and boobs to give the impression of an excellent figure. Being quite tall also helped her. All of that combined with a little make up, and she was one of the prettier girls in her school. Scowling, I spoke up, "So, Jordan. You wanna just stay here after dinner and hang out for a bit? "Huh?" the other boy mumbled, blinking dazedly as he pulled his attention from my sister. The effort didn't go unnoticed by Misha either, who chuckled at Jordan's reaction. Still, he managed to get himself on track after on a moment. "Oh ... uhm, sorry, Vali, but I have Raf and his crew coming over tonight. I'd invite you to come, too, but you guys ... y'know." "Oh ... yeah, I understand," I muttered, slumping in frustration. I probably should've known better. After all, Jordan was one of the more popular kids around, so he had a lot of friends to hang with. Still, I'd been hoping to get to spend a little more time together, especially since with school out, we didn't have a daily commute to chat during. As with Jordan's reaction, Misha noticed mine and laughed. She went a little further than that, though, adding, "God, you look like you just got dumped." "Shut up!" I spat defensively. "Sorry," my sister apologized. However, it didn't exactly sound sincere with her snickering at my expense. Feeling my cheeks heat up a little, I rolled my eyes and turned back to Jordan. "Seriously, it's cool. You guys have fun." "Wait ... I not understand," my mother interjected. "What problem between you and this Raf?" Suppressing a wince, I feigned incredulity as I asked, "Problem?! What problem?! There's no problem between Raf and me. Right, Jordan?" "Right," Jordan offered his support without hesitation. Even with my friend to back me up, my mother narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Then why you not get invited?" "Oh, that's just ..." I began, floundering for a good answer. "Well, they're jocks, y'know, sport guys. We just don't have the same interests." "Okay ..." my mother conceded with obvious reluctance. While not ideal, I took that answer as good enough, quickly trying to change the subject. "Anyway, we'll just hang out again some other time." "I'm probably just gonna be sitting around tomorrow afternoon just like I was today," Jordan replied. "I'll text you when I get up." "Sounds good," I agreed. "Don't forget you have to mow lawn tomorrow, Vali," my mother cut in. Rolling my eyes, I let out an exasperated huff. "I know, Mom. I'll do it in the morning." "Alright, but you not leave until it done," my mother reiterated. "I know!" I insisted forcefully. "I said I'll do it in the morning!" My mother just nodded in acceptance. "Well, as long as you do, it's fine with me." I sighed in relief. "Thank you." *********************************************** *********************************************** My hands felt sweaty and my heart rate quick as I hid just inside of my room, listening at the door. From the first floor, I could hear the sound of the TV. My father would be watching it, enjoying a beer or two. My mother would be sitting in a chair nearby knitting. My sister was out of the house with her friends. I wasn't going to get a better moment to do this Still, even knowing that, I found it hard to fight back my nervousness. I knew what I was planning to do was wrong. My sister would be furious. My mother crestfallen. My father ... well, I didn't even want to think about what he might do. I'd only seen him truly angry a few times in my life, and typically, it had ended with someone in the hospital - even me once with a broken wrist. It hadn't exactly been undeserved, but I'd always had a healthy fear of the man ever since, and he would definitely take greater issue with my current activity than anything I had done when I was younger. Nervous as I was, I didn't chicken out, not this time, at least. I slipped out of my room and double-checked the upstairs. Sure enough, just as I'd expected, no one was up there. That was good, because I would've had a hard time explaining why I was sneaking about like that. Apparently in the clear, I darted into my sister's room. It wasn't much different from mine. Our mother was too strict to allow for messiness or cluttered walls or anything like that. The only real major differences was she had a dressing table with a lot of makeup on, a full body mirror, and a lot more clothes in her closet. It was to the latter of those three things that I went first, giving it a quick check. My sister had just gone shopping not that long ago, so there had to be something ... "Ah ha!" I declared as I found one of the new purchases, a cheap but cute, red dress. Snatching it off the rack, I spun and hurried over to the dresser. A bra joined the stolen dress in my arms, and then, I was out of there, back to my room where I closed and locked the door behind me. Heart pounding in my chest, I scrambled to get out of my clothes, not knowing how much time I would have. Within a few moments, I wore nothing but my underwear and stood looking down at the pile of clothes I'd snagged. My hands shook a little as I reached for the first article, the most intimate one, the bra. That didn't keep me from getting my arms through the straps, nor from hooking it in the back, although the latter did take me a few tries due to the nerves, not unfamiliarity. I didn't stop with just the bra, however. I went right on to the dress, stepping into the ring of cloth before pulling the sheath up over my body. In spite of being smaller than my sister, it was still pretty snug, at least in most places. There was some bagginess at my hips and the top just collapsed the empty cups of the brassiere, but other than that it was fine. Turning toward my dresser, I pointedly ignored the half-body mirror that sat against the wall above it to dig into a drawer for some socks. Those, I shoved down the top of the dress to fill out the cups of the bra as best as I could. Only then, did I finally look up. When I saw my reflection, it came with the most bittersweet rush of emotion. Obviously, I wasn't a knockout like my sister. After all, I was shorter, had no hips or butt, and had absurd looking sock cleavage. Even so, I didn't think I looked that bad. In the face, my sister and I were pretty similar, other than the different framing of my boy haircut and my bigger nose. I wouldn't have had a body like hers, anyway, even if I was a girl. I mean, I was only thirteen, and probably not that lucky, but maybe I would've someday gotten close. As things were, though, I never would. Trying to make the most of the situation, I ran my hands along non- existent curves, cupped breasts I didn't have, even tried a few poses. It all looked objectively absurd, yet subjectively ... it didn't matter. I only indulged for a minute or two before I took it all off just as quickly as I'd put it on. After all, I had to sneak it all back where it belonged before there was any chance of someone finding out. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 03 "Ugh ..." I groaned as I forced myself out of bed to start getting dressed. "Why'd I set my alarm so early ..." Of course, I knew the reason. I had a lawn to mow. After that, I'd be a sweaty mess, so I'd have to get cleaned up. All of that had to be done before Jordan texted me. Now, there was a good chance that he wouldn't be up before noon, but I was going to be ready just in case. Throwing on a ratty set of t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, I left my room behind to go downstairs. There, both my mother and father were already awake. They sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast before they had to go to work. "Buna ziua," my mother greeted brightly, falling into romanian out of habit. "Morning," I replied as I walked by, heading toward the garage. Unlike the previous day, my mother had nothing else to add, probably because she knew that I was on my way to do a chore. She never interrupted chores, which I supposed I was glad for. I would've preferred being left alone all the time, but at least, I was going to be able to get this stupid job done quickly. Outside, I opened the garage door and grabbed our lawn mower. It was of an ancient push variety that reeked of gasoline and decaying grass. I had to fight with it just to get it out of where it was tucked in a corner and shove it out onto the driveway. There, however, something else stole my attention. "Huh ... guess the sign did say it was sold," I remarked as I looked across the street. Catty-corner to my own home, there was a previously empty house that now had a moving truck in the driveway. Several men from the company milled about, getting directions from a woman that looked maybe a few years older than my mother. I didn't know if any of the guys were her husband, but I assumed the two kids on the porch belonged to her. Disappointingly, they both seemed to be younger, a girl of around eight and a boy that looked about eleven - too young for me to hang out with or anything, but probably not young enough to need a babysitter. As I watched, someone a little more interesting came out from inside the house. It was a young man, who I guessed was maybe a year older than me. For the most part, he was pretty normal looking, but there was this serious, commanding presence to him as he marched out, rounded up his younger siblings, and got them back into the house. Thinking the other boy might be pretty cool, I considered walking over to say hi, but I decided against it. They seemed busy, and it would probably come off as weird anyway. I'd just be a bother. Hopefully, a better opportunity would come along, like it had when Jordan moved in. We'd probably never have become friends if I'd just showed up at his house, but waiting at the corner for the bus had been perfect. However, given this new guy's apparently age, he was probably going to high school, so the same sort of thing wasn't going to happen. Damn. With a sigh, I just turned back to my own task. Thoughts about the new boy and his family quickly got shoved out of my mind as I fought with the lawnmower. The crappy, old piece of shit never wanted to just start nice and easy. Tug after tug on the rip chord failed as I tried all sorts of different settings on the engine controls in the hope that something would work. By the time it finally started, I was already sweaty, red- faced, and huffing for breath, and I still had the actual lawn to mow. What a terrible start to the day. *********************************************** *********************************************** Idly, I tapped my fingers are the chair's armrest as my gaze shifted back and forth between the TV screen and the phone on the small end table next to me. The former showed a young man, kinda cute in a punk sort of way, belting out a song for a panel of judges. The latter showed that I had received no new messages. The next time my gaze drifted to the phone, I checked the time along with the continued lack of messages. It was already after two. Jordan should've been up by now. Had something come up? Had he forgotten? Was something wrong with my phone? Latching onto that last possibility, I picked up the device and toyed with it for a bit. As far as I could tell, all the features seemed to be working. I supposed that it could've been Jordan that broke his phone or lost it or whatever. He had been out with Raf and his friends the previous night, so dropping it or forgetting it somewhere wasn't that hard to believe. "Wow ... he was really good. I loved the emotion he put into the song. You could almost hear his voice crack a couple of times 'cause he was just feelin' it so much," my sister commented as the singer on the TV finished up his number. "Yeah ..." I mumbled absently, barely even registering Misha's words through my own worries. For a moment, that was the end of the exchange, both of us falling back into silence, but my sister didn't stay that way for long. "Y'know, you could just text him," she pointed out a second later. "Huh?" I mumbled, looking up from my phone. "Jordan, you know, the kid who spent all of dinner last night staring at me," Misha clarified with a smirk on her face. "You could just text him first, rather than sit there checking your phone every ten seconds." "I could," I admitted, glancing briefly down at the phone. "But, I mean, he's probably just still asleep, and I don't wanna wake him and be a bother or anything." My answer had my sister rolling her eyes at me. "Well then, why don't you try just remembering that it makes a noise when you get a message, so you don't need to look at it unless it does." "I know that!" I huffed in exasperation. "It's just with all the singing and stuff, I might miss it." "So, you need to check it constantly to the point of not even actually watching the show at all?" Misha questioned with obvious suspicion. "First of all, it's a show about singing, so I don't need to watch it, just hear it. And secondly, I heard the song," I insisted defensively. "The guy was good; emotional." "Yeah, that's what I said," my sister replied with an accusatory edge to her face. "Did you have any thoughts of your own?" Uninterested in the singer, I just shrugged. "No, that was about it." "Alright ..." Misha conceded, although she clearly didn't believe me. At least, it was enough to get her to stop prying and return her attention to the TV. With my sister handled, I went back to looking at my phone, but the conversation with her lingered in my thoughts. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, I should just text Jordan. It was pretty late for him to still be asleep. Even if I did wake him up, he probably wouldn't be mad. Plus, it would give us more time to hang out, rather than wasting that time waiting. Building up the nerve, I typed out, "Hey we still hangin out?" and sent it off. As soon as I did, though, I felt an instant surge of regret that had me wincing. Should I have said something else? Did I sound pathetic and clingy? I didn't, did I? Maybe if I'd put something else with it, like commented on having to watch TV with my sister, because I was so bored. Not that I actually minded doing that. Misha and I usually got along pretty well. Not a lot of guys I knew got along well with their siblings, especially their sisters, though, so it wouldn't hurt to pretend like that wasn't the case. Right? The panicked whirlwind of thoughts was just starting to build into a truly monstrous storm when a response came and I jumped to check it. However, when I saw what had been written, my heart fell. The panic was better than this. "Sorry man. Forgot I said we'd do something today. Laesha invited me to this pool thing last night so ended up there," the message announced. Sighing heavily, I tossed the phone onto the end table and slumped back in my seat. There went my plans for the day, and I had no idea what I was going to do to replace them. Read, maybe? There was the rest of the episode to watch, too. Still, that wasn't much, and neither seemed all that interesting. Maybe, it would be better to just go take a nap or something. Just as I started to really sink into the chair, another text notification blared out. Instantly, I had the phone in my hand once more. Maybe, Jordan was going to leave the party and come hang out or we could just chat for a bit while he was there or something. "Just asked. She said you could come too. Just gotta get here on your own," Jordan's follow-up read. That offer twisted up my thoughts. On one hand, it was a chance to hang out like planned. On the other, it meant doing so with other kids from school. I got along alright with Laesha, but she was close with Raf, so he and his buddies would probably be there. That wouldn't be great, but there would be a lot of people, so there was a good chance that I would go unnoticed. Steeling myself for what was coming, I looked up from my phone to ask, "Hey, Misha, you mind giving me a ride somewhere?" "Uh ... I guess I can do that," my sister allowed. "Where ya need to go?" "Let me check," I replied, turning back to the device in my hands to repeat my sister's question to Jordan. Thankfully, I got a snappy answer back that I could relay to Misha. "Ah, that place," my sister acknowledged. "Yeah, sure, I'll take ya, but we're finishing the episode first. There's just a few minutes left." While I certainly didn't want to wait, I also didn't want to argue and risk losing my ride, so I nodded immediately. "Okay." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 04 Sitting in the car, I anxiously watched the city roll by outside my window. The cause of my worry was just how long everything was taking. Not only had my sister made us finish the TV show, but then she'd spent a while getting ready, plus there was the drive, itself. Each thing took time, making Jordan wait and my eventually arrival even more conspicuous. There was nothing to be done about it, but that really only made it feel worse. With nothing to do but sit there and wait, I'd tried to take my mind off how long that wait actually was. I'd talked to my sister. I'd listened to the radio. I'd even just forced my thoughts onto other topics. None of those efforts had lasted for long before I faded right back into worry. Now, at least, I was getting close to my destination, but that wasn't good enough. As if to prove my fears well-founded, I heard my text notification play over the radio. I couldn't stop myself from cringing, inwardly cursing my sister for not hurrying. Such thoughts didn't fix the situation, leaving me forced to just check the message and accept the consequences. "Hey. Pool closing for an hour. We're going to a pizza place down the street to get something to eat until it opens again," Jordan's text informed me. Sighing in relief, I sent back, "Kay. Almost there." "I take it we're still going?" my sister inquired. "Yeah, they're just taking a break to get something to eat," I confirmed the guess, looking up from my phone. "They're supposedly at a pizza place down the street." "Kay, I think I know the one they're talking about," Misha acknowledged before going back to focusing on the road and the music that was playing. Meanwhile, I settled in to consider the change in location. Overall, I thought it was a good thing. I never felt comfortable going shirtless, but it would be expected at the pool. This way, I could settle in while properly clothed and only have to worry about that later. The only real issue with the change was money, but luckily, one of the few benefits from having parents that forced me to do a lot of chores was that they rewarded that effort with a pretty decent allowance, certainly enough to handle a little food. Having eaten lunch already, I wasn't particularly hungry, but I was still glad that I was prepared. In fact, I wasn't just glad but eager. This was going to go better than I'd feared. That conclusion carried me through the rest of the ride, easing my anxiety and helping the time pass more quickly. It didn't help when the car finally came to a stop, though, and I was faced with having to get out, enter the pizza place, and face the group of teens within. I could see them through the window - a good dozen in total. They were some of the most popular kids in school, laughing and joking around as they ate. Intruding on that just wasn't going to be easy. "Alright, hurry up, out ya go," Misha pressured when I didn't immediately move. "I got my own places to be." "Yeah, right, okay ..." I mumbled absently, fumbling with my seat and the door in my worry about what lay ahead. "Thanks for the ride." "Not a problem. Call Mom for a pickup, though, 'cause I'mma be busy," my sister told me. "Will do," I agreed, hopping out of the car and closing the door behind me. With a little wave, Misha flipped the car out of park and drove off. Left alone, I turned to the pizza place, feeling my nerves growing even worse. Regardless of how I felt, though, there was no turning back now. Steeling my resolve, I forced myself to move forward. The door was an easy obstacle, but when I pulled it open, I could hear the voices of the other teens, carrying from their seats. That made me even more apprehensive, but I pushed right through that, marching over to their table. As I went, I looked over the group. Jordan was facing away from me, sitting with his arm around his girlfriend, Andrea. While she was nice enough, as popular girls went, I'd never really liked the girl, a curvy, bottle blonde that I always thought was too clingy and possessive when it came to Jordan. Seeing them once again snuggled up close only reaffirmed that opinion. For the most part, I knew the other kids in the group as well. Laesha, a pretty black girl, sat on the other side of Andrea from Jordan, playing a kind of hostess role in the conversation. I was pretty sure the guy next to her was her current boyfriend. That was the end of the mixed pairs, however. After them, the genders separated out. There was a string of girls, the rest of Andrea and Laesha's clique. And lastly, facing my way were the people that I would really rather have avoided. Rafael Cardenos was sort of the tough guy of our grade. He certainly had the build for it, being pretty tall and kinda bulky, at least by our standards. In fact, he was a fair bit thicker than I was, but he bore that heft with confidence and authority. Outside of his physique, he also dressed the part, looking like he was a gang member with baggy clothes and gaudier accessories. His entourage was more normal looking, but a couple of the more intimidating ones tried to imitate his style and presence to some effect. "Hey, look at that, it's the faggot!" Raf jeered when he spotted my approach. "Sorry, buddy, but you're gonna have to wait for the pool to reopen if you want to catch some peeks at shirtless boys!" While far from an unexpected comment, I still winced at the jibe, feeling my cheeks heat up. That didn't mean that I just took it, though. "I'm not a faggot, asshole!" "Yeah, then why'd I catch you checking out what Jordy, here, is packing in the locker room, huh?!" the big, hispanic boy shot back. "I didn't! My gaze just happened to sweep across!" I retorted in my defense. Raf and I probably would've gone another couple rounds like that, but Jordan interjected before we could. "Stop! We've been through this, Raf. It's not like looking means he's interested. He wouldn't be the first guy to be curious how he stacks up. Hell, I've looked before, but that doesn't mean I'm any less into my girl here." "I'll say," the blonde purred, leaning into to give her boyfriend a quick kiss. There weren't a lot of guys that could get away with telling Raf what to do, but Jordan was one of them. As such, the big boy just shrugged. "Whatever." Coming out of his kiss, Jordan offered a quick, "Thanks," to his buddy before twisting his neck to look back at me. "Come have a seat, man," he said, waving me over to the group. "We're just getting started." Relaxing a clench jaw and fists, I nodded and started forward again. Noticing there weren't any open chairs, I snatched one from one of the other nearby tables and pulled it over. There wasn't really room for me at the actual table either, so I just dropped the seat behind and to the side of Jordan before scooting up as close as I could. Keeping his arm around his girlfriend, Jordan leaned a little closer to me as I sat down. "Hey, sorry again for forgetting." "It's alright," I answered, trying to play it off like I hadn't been worried. "I only texted you, 'cause I wanted to know if I needed to keep my afternoon open." "Well, I'm glad ya did," my friend told me with obvious sincerity. "Now, we still get to hang out." "Yeah," I agreed, smiling brightly. Jordan returned the smile with a crooked one of his own before he gestured at the food and drinks littering the table. "So, you gonna be gettin' anything?" "Uhm ... no, I actually ate before coming," I admitted, feeling a little self-conscious about not joining in. Maybe, it would be better to just go ahead and order something, even if I wasn't hungry. I could make myself eat a little bit. "Damn," Jordan muttered in disappointment. Feeling even worse after that reaction, I asked. "Why? Is there something here that's really good?" "Nah, I was just hoping you'd get something, so I could steal a few bites," my friend explained. "I sorta overspent last night with the guys, so I'm kinda tapped today." "Oh, well, uh, I suppose I could go for half of something," I changed my tune. "How about I get something we can split?" "Really? Great!" Jordan declared happily. "Small pepperoni?" "Sure," I agreed, rising to go place the order. "Oh, and a soda!" my friend added before I left. "Got it," I confirmed, slipping away to hurry off to the register. The bored, older teen working the place didn't perk up at my approach, just lazily asked, "What d'ya want?" "Small pepperoni and a couple of sodas," I told him as I fished my wallet out of my pocket. The teen quoted a price back to me and I paid, receiving a couple of cups in the exchange. Knowing exactly what Jordan would want, I didn't even turn back to ask, just headed straight to the machine to fill them up. By the time that was done and I was back to the group, they were involved in some raucous conversation full of jibes at each other that I couldn't really get into. "Here's your drink," I inserted myself quietly, so that only really Jordan would hear me. "Thanks man," the other boy answered, taking the cup and immediately putting it to his lips for a drink. After that, his attention was right back to the conversation and laughter. Meanwhile, I took my seat again, lingering on the edge. I tried to listen, but a lot of the events that they talked about I hadn't been at, the interests weren't my own, and the comments not anything that I could respond to. As such, I tended to drift out of the conversation a lot, glancing over at Jordan. If he laughed, I did. If he smiled, I did. If he was having fun, so was I. The only thing that really bothered me was when Andrea would say something witty or give some show of affection that pulled Jordan's attention her way. I really just didn't like that girl. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 05 "Alright, diving board time," Jordan declared as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his lean frame. Tossing his shirt, wallet, and phone onto one of the lounge chairs, he pointed toward Raf and the other boys. "You guys in?" "You bet," came Raf's reply, the heavy boy tugging off his own shirt to toss it and the rest of his stuff away. "I've been saving the best of my repertoire for this." "Oh really," Jordan retorted, sounding more than a bit skeptical. "That's some awfully big talk." "Well, I'm an awfully big buy," Raf joked with a laugh. "But even I have a limit on talking, so let's get to it!" "Right on!" Jordan exclaimed before spinning to take the lead on the way to the diving board. Raf fell in right beside him while the other guys quickly stripped to follow after. Hesitating, I just watched the guys leave for a moment, unsure what to do. I wasn't particularly interested in joining in. What else could I do, though. All the other guys had gone, leaving just the girls and me behind. Looking for alternatives, I glanced toward the girls. They didn't seem to even care that the boys had left. In fact, they were already into their own tittering conversation as they took seats on the lounge chairs. Was staying with them an option? It didn't feel like it. Joining the guys didn't feel any better either, though. It seemed that, either way, I was going to feel out of place. At least, if I stayed, I wouldn't have to take my shirt off or get involved in whatever the silly competition was. Besides Raf and his buddies would probably try to prank me in some way like tossing me in or holding me under. Clinging to that rationalization, I slid over to the next unused lounge chair and sat down. Jordan and the other guys would probably get tired of diving before too long. Then, they'd come back to the chairs to hang out. I didn't mind waiting. My choice didn't go completely unnoticed. Andrea gave me a strange look as she took her own seat. She even leaned over to whisper something to one of her friends. A tittering burst of laughter followed, before that girl leaned over to whisper to the next one and so on around the way until they were all giggling at me. Gritting my teeth, I did my best to ignore the sounds. To help, I turned my attention to the diving board where Jordan and the other guys were waiting in line. They were joking around, laughing and offering a few good natured shoves. It was incredibly how Jordan always seemed to be having fun. He was the light of parties and the center of friendships. Even ignoring myself, there was probably no way that the rest of the group would be hanging out today without him. That was just the kind of magnetic charisma he had. "Probably helps being so good looking," I muttered under my breath, looking over the other boy's lean frame, easy smile, and shining hair. None of the other guys were even close to his league. As I watched, the line moved along, and the group of boys reached the diving board. Jordan took the first turn, performing a dive that looked pretty graceful to me. Raf did more of a cannonball looking thing. After that, I didn't even bother to pay attention. Jordan was just hanging out in the water watching the other guys go, and it would be a while before he went again, so I let my gaze drift around the area. For the most part, the pool was dominated by little kids, about six to ten. Outside of Andrea, Laesha, and the other girls, almost all of the lounge chairs were taken up by parents, usually mothers. There were a few other teens there, too, though. Most were just groups of boys, none of any particular note, but there was a trio of girls. They looked a couple years older than me, and one had a really interesting hairstyle. Two small braids swept back from her temples to tie together in the back. I'd seen the look a few times before, but never in person. It looked really cute. The girl had clearly put a lot of work into the style, getting good volume and twining the braids just right. I wondered if it was hard to do. "Ah ... so that's what you're up to over here," Jordan remarked from right next to me. The proximity made me start with surprise, jerking around to face the other boy. "Ah! Jordan! What are you doing back?" "Apparently, scaring you," my friend remarked as he sat down next to me. "That said, originally, I was gonna find out why you were hanging out over here, but I see now that you were distracted." "Huh?" I mumbled in confusion. Smirking, the other boy glancing toward the girl I'd been looking at. "Didn't know you had a thing for older girls." "What?! No, I don't!" I denied immediately. Jordan scrunched his face up skeptically. "Really? Then why did I catch you starin' at her?" "I just liked her hair," I explained myself. "That's it." "Hair, huh?" my friend repeated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. A moment later, he shrugged. "I guess everyone's got their own thing." "It's not my thing!" I exclaimed. This time, the other boy just waved off my defense. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. What does matter, is you were checkin' her out." "No, I wasn't," I huffed in frustration, adding a roll of my eyes. "You're not gettin' outta it that easily, Vali," Jordan retorted. "I saw you, clear as day, and you even admitted it was 'cause you liked her hair." Even knowing that I wasn't going to convince him otherwise, I let out a weak sigh of, "It wasn't like that ..." "Yeah, sure it wasn't," my friend answered sarcastically. "What really matters now is, we had a deal. I caught you checkin' a girl out, so that means you gotta go ask her out." My jaw dropped at the demand. "You can't be serious." "Oh, I'm dead serious," Jordan told me. "You're asking her out or I'm gonna make fun of you for this for as long as we're friends." "You're gonna do that anyway," I pointed out. "She like sixteen. She's gonna swat me like a fly." Unsympathetically, the other boy shrugged. "Well, you got no one to blame for that but yourself. You picked her, and you decided not to tell me your type." "And you forced this deal on me where I get nothing in return but embarrassment," I shot back. "Oh, come on! You don't know that!" Jordan dismissed my worries. "She might dig ya. Only way to find out is to go over there and talk to her, which you're going to do if I have to drag you over and toss you onto her lap." Cornered, I let out a heavy sigh. "Please, man. What am I even going to say to her?" "Hi? Maybe your name?" Jordan suggested before snapping his fingers. "Tell her you like her hair. She'll love that." "Seriously? You want me to go up there and tell her I like her hair?" I asked incredulously. "She's gonna think I'm a total dork." "Good, that means she'll get an accurate impression," my friend teased as he rose from his seat. Reaching out, he grabbed my wrist and gave it a tug to urge me along. "Now, come on. Get up. It's time to do this." "Jordan ..." I groaned, resisting the pull. The other boy rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop whining. Even if you get shot down. It's not that big a deal. You just brush it off, walk back over here, and we'll all have a good laugh about it." Oh, I knew there would be laughing. It would be at me and the utter humiliation I was going to suffer. Still, while the other might be cruel about it, whatever ribbing I got from Jordan would be good-natured. He clearly was just trying to help give me a push, too. Would it really be that bad to just give him what he wanted? Sighing yet again, I nodded in concession. "Fine ... I'll do it." "Atta boy," Jordan declared, giving me a pat on my shoulder. "Now, stand up straight, try not to stutter, and remember, you're cooler than you think you are. You can totally do this." "Yeah, sure," I muttered sarcastically, even as I followed those instructions. Rising from my seat, I pushed my shoulders back and forced myself to take the first step. After that, the steps were just a matter of inertia, carrying me toward the girl and her friends. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of panic that couldn't possible have given my body any commands. Even had they been able to, it wouldn't have listened to any orders to turn away. It was on task, bringing me inevitably toward embarrassment. I was just along for the ride. As I marched toward catastrophe, the girl who would provide it noticed me. Well, one of her friends noticed first, but they were soon all watching me as I crossed the last few steps to reach them. There, I stopped, frozen by their attention. My entire mind went blank. I couldn't remember what I was supposed to say. I couldn't remember what had brought me to this spot. I couldn't even remember who I was. My mind was just empy, my body paralyzed. "Uhm ... can I help you?" the friend that had first noticed me asked after an awkward moment of my standing there. "Uh, b- ... I ..." I stammered pitifully, fighting to get my head straight enough to provide any words at all. I didn't even care if they were rational, just complete. "Right ..." the girl replied with obvious disdain. "Look, could you, like, go away. You're kinda creeping us out." Somehow, rather than take the opportunity to leave mildly rejected, my brain decided that was the moment to speak. It's ability to choose words was as bad as its timing, causing me to blurt, "I like her hair!" as I pointed toward the girl with the braids. All three girls burst into a fit of snickers at my claim, while my cheeks blazed with heat. The girl I'd theoretically complimented did manage to respond through her laugh. "Uhm, hehehe, thanks," before falling fully back into her mirth. It was at that moment that the command to flee finally filtered through my head and got to my body. Without another word, I just turned and hurried away with my gaze firmly on the ground. Every step I took was mirrored by the resounding thud of an insult in my thoughts over how stupid I'd been. Why had I ever agreed to do this? Even if it had gone impossibly well, I had no interest in getting involved with that girl. Besides, I'd known it wasn't going to go well. In fact, I'd known it was going to go terribly just like it had. I'd still marched right into my embarrassment with no possible reward waiting for me. I was such a fucking idiot. Feeling like a complete fool, I trudge back around the pool to where Jordan waited. "Hey, man," he greeted, stepping forward to pat me on the shoulder. "Sorry, it didn't work out, but at least you tried." Rolling free of the comforting gesture, I muttered, "Leave me alone," and just kept right on going, past Jordan and the girls and off toward the exit to the pool. "Vali! Wait!" my friend called after me. I didn't stop. I continued on, right out of the pool and then off down the street. There wasn't anywhere in particular that I wanted to go, just away. I think that I managed to get to the end of the block before tears filled my eyes. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 06 A wall of text filled my computer screen, slowing scrolling by as I read. It wasn't a particularly good story or anything, just some piece of fluff about a guy finding a genie that had 'accidently' turned him into a girl. While it wasn't always a genie that did it, this sort of thing happened a lot in these kind of stories. The guy would complain about it for a bit, then eventually, he'd end up with some awesome guy, probably the best friend that had shown up a few times in the story so far - so lucky. Losing interest, I sighed, sliding down further in my chair. I was already pretty huddled down, but I found a way to compress myself even more. It didn't really make me feel any better. The story didn't either. The day before had just been too awful. Just thinking about that mess led me to try to scrunch down even further as if I could crush myself right out of the world, but I couldn't. I couldn't even scrunch down more. I was already curled up just about as tightly as I could be and still be sitting. Maybe I could get into a smaller ball if I laid down on my bed. It was certainly tempting. After all, reading wasn't making things better anyway. If anything, I felt worse, adding jealousy and frustration to my anger and shame. "Why did I even go yesterday?" I asked myself. Other than Jordan, no one had even wanted me there. It wasn't as if we'd really gotten to talk or do anything together either. He'd been busy with his other friends, and I'd just sat there, occasionally getting made fun of but mostly just being ignored. It wouldn't have been worth it, even without the disaster at the end. Even wallowing as I was, I jerked upright when the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. That was just a natural reaction, though, one that quickly faded away. I didn't want to answer the door. My sister was around. She could do it, allowing me to just sit there with my misery. With that resolved, I settled back in to continue my brooding, but I wasn't left to it for long. No more than a minute later, there was a knock on the door to bother me. This also got me upright again, sending me into a flurry of movement to minimize and close out the things on my computer that I didn't want seen. "What?!" I called out as I finished hiding my interests. "It's Jordan!" the boy yelled answered through the door. "Can we talk?!" Two conflicting emotions hit me at once. One was the first bright sensation that I'd felt since the day before, a moment of thrill that Jordan actually cared enough to come and talk. It was quickly crushed by the shadow of a dark anger, however. After all, Jordan was the whole reason for the mess. If he'd just remembered our plans, none of this would've happened. In spite of that damning logic, the small light held out just long enough to get me to rise and walk over to the door. "What's there to talk about?" I demanded acerbically as I pulled the barrier out of the way. "Didn't you humiliate me enough, yesterday?" My hostility caused Jordan to cringe a little. "That wasn't what I was trying to do, Vali." "That doesn't mean you didn't!" I shot back. "I know!" the other boy exclaimed. "And I'm sorry about that!" "Yeah, well, I don't want your apology," I stated coldly, meaning for that to be the final word. Unfortunately, more of them just kept spilling out of me unbidden. "Why would you even make me do that? You had to know what was going to happen." My friend shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I guess I thought if you got shot down, you'd realize it wasn't actually that bad, and you'd open a little." "Not that bad?!" I blurted in disbelief. "They literally laughed me away!" "I saw, but it's just laughter," Jordan argued. "People laugh at each other all the time. Making fun of each other is like half of what Raf and I do. It's only bad if you take it badly." "Whatever," I muttered, rolling my eyes. The other boy would never understand. Nobody ever really mocked him. They just teased a little slip up or an amusing quirk. If that had been all it was, I would've been fine with it, too, but it wasn't. For me, it almost never was. "No, it's not just whatever, Vali," my friend continued, refusing to let me just disengage. "You can't let people get to you like that. It's half the reason Raf and the other guys make fun of you, because you always get all angry and defensive." "Whatever," I repeated, knowing there was no point in arguing. Nothing was going to change. Jordan sighed in frustration. "So what, this is it then? You're just gonna sit in your room and be mad at me forever?" "Maybe," I replied with a snarky shrug. "Fine! Do what you want," the other boy huffed, clearly out of patience. "I'll just go spend time with people that don't want to act like whiny, little girls." "Good! Then go!" I snapped definitely. Shaking his head, Jordan spun away to do exactly that, marching off toward the stairs. Anger flared in me as I watched him go, sending me ducking back into my room. Once I was clear, I slammed the door closed as hard as I could. A few moments later, I heard the front door slam even harder. "Argh ... fucking ..." I hissed through my teeth as I clenched my hands so tightly into fists that they shook. The anger couldn't last, though. It blew out of me of me in a heavy sigh, like a steam engine letting off pressure. New emotions rushed into the space left behind, frustration, self-loathing, lament. My next breath shuddered as I pulled it through my lips, fighting to remain controlled. I couldn't manage that, though. My throat was so tight, almost choking me. My eyes were already starting to blur. The best I could do was flop onto my bed and bury my head in my pillow before I started to cry. It was all just so stupid. Why had I said those things? Why had I acted like such a jerk? I didn't want to be mad at Jordan. I didn't want him to just leave. It was like I had walked the path without my own consent, but I had to have consented. After all, I was the one that had acted in that manner. I was the jerk who forced things to this shitty conclusion. Now, all I could do was cry about it. Not even in tears would I find solitude, however. My sobs had only just begun when another knock on my door forced me to respond, yelling out, "What?!" "You alright in there?" my sister's voice, full of concern, carried gently into my room. "Yes! Now leave me alone," I yelled back, my voice obviously wet and ragged with emotion. "I can hear you crying out here, y'know," Misha pointed out. "I'm not crying!" I retorted. Even as I tried to deny it, though, sobbing distorting my words, making my lie obvious. Rather than argue, my sister took a different approach. She just grabbed the door and pulled it open. Idiot that I was, I hadn't locked it, so I had no defense against her. My lie was revealed as she looked upon me herself. "Oh, look at that. You're crying. Who could've guessed?" Misha remarked, both voice and expression thoroughly deadpan. Sitting up, I tried my best to stifle my tears and wipe them away while I glared at my sister. "That doesn't mean you can just barge in here." "Nope, but being the older sibling does," Misha replied smartly, walking over to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Y'know, you've always been such a crybaby. Even when we were little, you'd always come running for help with tears in yours eyes." Angry and a little embarrassed, I narrowed my eyes further. "Sorry I'm such a shitty little brother." "Oh, stop it. You're not shitty," my sister refuted. "All my friends are jealous of you. They all hate their younger siblings, even the ones that have sisters. We get along pretty well, though. You were even cute when you were little. I can't say the same for this angsty, loner, teen thing you're doing now, but thirteen year olds are all just ... uck." Unprepared for compliments, I didn't really know how to respond or even how to feel. I kinda wanted to still be angry about the intrusion, but I mostly just felt tired and depressed. "I guess you're not so bad either." "Well, thanks," Misha remarked, chuckling softly. "Anyway, I don't really know what happened between you two, and I don't want to just shove my nose where it's not wanted, but I wanted to tell you a couple things. One, that I'm willing to listen if you need someone to talk to. And two, try not to get so upset about stuff. You can work things out if you want to, and if you don't, well, then it's not worth being upset about in the first place. Okay?" "Okay," I agreed, although it didn't suddenly make me feel any better. "Great, then I'll get outta here," my sister told me, giving me a quick pat on her shoulder before rising. "Hope you feel better soon." "Thanks," I mumbled. Apparently content with that, my sister offered me a quick smile and then turned and walked right back out of the room. She even closed the door behind her, returning what privacy I could actually have in the house. Undoubtedly, she'd still be able to hear through the barrier, but she probably wouldn't try to barge in again. That didn't really mattered, though, since I didn't feel like crying anymore. Flopping back onto the bed, I let out a heavy sigh and stared up at the ceiling. All sorts of negativity, anger, misery, loneliness, still roiled about within me, but they were a bit muted after the show of support. It wasn't enough to make everything all better, but it no longer felt utterly overwhelming. As such, it was more of a general despondency that led me to just lie there with my thoughts until I was finally forced out of my room by the call to dinner. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 07 Silvery light illuminated the world around me, bathing it in gentle, muted tones. It revealed lounge chairs and parasols, table and lifeguard stands. Cool, slightly rough concrete lay beneath my feet and in its center a great rectangle was dug. The pit was filled with water, rippling in the gentle breeze as it shone brightly in the light from above. Confused by my location, I glanced about, trying to figure out how I had come to be in such a place. My surroundings offered no answers; showed no other people. All I could find was the moon in the sky, looking so huge and bright that I almost wanted to shade my eyes from its brilliance. "You look so beautiful," a voice, Jordan's voice, complimented, all soft and breathy as if whispering right into my ear. Startled, I jerked around and pulled back. There was nothing to retreat from, though. No one was behind me. In fact, as I cast about, I found no one at all. It was as if the wind itself had whispered those sweet words in my ear. Growing only more bewildered, I drifted to a stop. Something was off about this place. Why would I be at a pool? Why would I hear Jordan when he wasn't around? Why was the moon so large and bright? "I wish we could always be together," Jordan's voice interrupted my thoughts, even as I felt arms slide around me from behind. Jumping in fright, I tried to pull free, but I couldn't. The embrace was gentle, barely more than a caress, and yet the arms were like steel bars, completely unmoving. I was trapped. No, I was being draw in, pulled ever closer until my back was pressed against a firm chest, and I could feel the breath of someone on my shoulder. This time, when I twisted my head to the side to investigate, I found my friend's face, smiling at me warmly. It was really him. It was really his arms wrapped around me. It was his warmth that I could feel through my skin. That realization set my heart to racing and my jaw to dropping. At the same time, my breathing quickened, coming in shallow, rapid gasps. My face burned with embarrassment that only grew as Jordan's eyes, their bright green so full of warmth and care, continued to bore into my own. "I can't believe it took me so long to realize," Jordan continued, his voice so soft and soothing. Jerking my head to the side to break away from his gaze, I tried once more to pull free, but again, I had no success. The embrace, seemingly so weak, kept me trapped, like I was tied up in a soft blanket. All I could do was demand that Jordan, "Let go of me!" "Why? Don't you want this?" my friend asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. His hands started to move, one trailing up from my waist to my chest. There it groped one pudgy pec while its compatriot dipped low. I felt a waistband tighten as Jordan's hand slipped by, down toward more intimate areas. My resistance vanished under the other boy's hands. In its place was mostly shock, a complete inability to believe what was happening. It didn't make any sense. Jordan was my friend. He didn't see me like this. I had to be hallucinating or dreaming or ... or ... The problem was, I didn't care. As the surprise melted away, it didn't collapse into indignation or anger. I didn't try to pull away. I didn't want to. Everything felt so hot, so alive, so perfect, and so, I just let the other boy's hands keep going. As Jordan continued into my pants, I could feel the anticipation building, and arousal growing right along with it. The sensation, though, was strange. I felt engorged but not hard, attentive but not erect. He did not find me thrusting out as a handle to grab onto. His hand dipped further down, moving between my legs toward something tucked within. With a start, I lurched up in my bed, gasping for breath. Around me, the room was dark, showing only the slightest bit of light from the window. Certainly, nothing like that huge moon was around to illuminate the world. There were no hands upon me, either, only the clammy wet of sweat and a stickiness in my underwear that was proof of just how stimulating the dream had been. Slouching, I relaxed for a moment, only to quickly scrunch my face up in disgust. "Uck ... what a mess," I grumbled, shoving myself out of bed. As I walked into the bathroom to cleanup, I stopped in front of the mirror. Echoes of Jordan's first words ran through my head. There was nothing beautiful about my reflection, nothing that could possibly draw his gaze. He had no interest in boys, and even if he did, he'd never want one that looked like me. I couldn't fault him. Even I thought I was hideous. Still, I looked on, imagining how it must've looked to have the other boy's arms around me. I could almost feel his touch, so warm and solid, yet gentle. It had been as welcome as it had been impossible. Suffering from a strange mix of arousal and self-loathing, I shook my head and looked away. "I hate dreams," I muttered as I set about cleaning myself up. *********************************************** *********************************************** In front of me, the screen of my phone proudly displayed my contact list. It wasn't very long. After all, I didn't have many friends. I didn't mind that either. The sheer number was nowhere near as important as the quality to me. The friend that the phone currently highlighted was worth a hundred lesser ones easily. Unfortunately, no matter how valuable that friend was, I couldn't bring myself to press another button, to open up a text or start a call. What could I even say after what had happened the day before? He had come to see me out of concern and friendship, and I had been an ass in return. An apology just didn't seem to be enough. The screen of the phone dimmed as it went into standby, a testament to the stalemate between my fears and desires. When it did, I let out a frustrated little sigh and set the device aside. There was nothing else to do. I couldn't face Jordan again, at least, not so soon - not after everything that had happened. Oddly, as my mind drifted toward our exchange, I didn't think about yelling at Jordan. No, it was thoughts of the weird dream that I'd had after he'd left that sprang to mind. My cheeks immediately flushed at the thought, burning with embarrassment and guilt for having such thoughts. That just made me all the more certain that I couldn't face him. The awkwardness would kill me. "Get me another beer, boy," my father's gruff voice commanded, snapping me from my thoughts. "Yes, Dad," I agreed immediately, thrusting myself up from my seat. Quickly, I walked back to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the kitchen. With that in hand, I came back and handed it to my dad with a simple. "Here ya go." "Mmm," the man grunted, as close to a show of gratitude as I would get as he grabbed the bottle, popped the cap, and took a big gulp. Task completed, I went back to my seat and plopped down. I tried to focus on the TV where my father was watching some home improvement show. Normally, such programs were essentially the only shared interests the man and I had, but at the moment, I just couldn't get into it. My attention quickly waned, and when it did, I was right back to looking at my phone and thinking about Jordan. For the next several minutes, I kept at it, thinking and rethinking the same things over and over again. I never made it anywhere, though. I probably would've just kept on like that all the way to the end of the TV show, but a new noise, the sound of the back door which heralded my mother's return from the store, interrupted me. "Vali! Help with groceries, please!" my mother's voice called out a couple moments later. Again, I found myself shoving myself out of my seat. "Coming, Mom." By the time I got to the kitchen, my mother was already working on getting a couple of bags into the refrigerator. I just blowed right by her to head out to the car and get to work. It took a few trips before I had all the bags in the kitchen, resting on the table. "That's all of 'em," I announced as I set the last bag down. Looking up from her work, my mother offered a quick, "Multumiri," to show her appreciation, then was right back to it. "Sure thing," I replied before walking back out to the living room. By that point, the show my father and I had been watching had come to an end. In its place was a business-oriented program that I had no interest in, so I didn't sit back down. Instead, I just grabbed my phone and slipped up to my room, content to be done with TV and other people for the night. Once upstairs, I tossed my phone on the nightstand and flopped onto my bed. More of the same thoughts that had been plaguing me immediately jumped back into my head. I lay there, running through them for a countless amount of time, and I wondered. How long would the cycle last? A day? A week? The rest of summer? I would have to face Jordan after that. We would be on the bus together once more. I didn't want to wait that long, though. I wanted to spend time with him, to be close to him, to ... "If only I wasn't me," I whispered to the empty room in a voice full of longing. Oh, how I wished that one simple fact was true. If only I was someone else, I wouldn't feel so out of place. I wouldn't have to sit by and watch my friend's life, instead of sharing it. I wouldn't have to feel ashamed. For the last time that night, I glanced at my phone. "I'll talk to him tomorrow," I declared. Then, I rose from my bed and walked over to my computer, eager to at least pretend to be anyone but me. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 08 Hands roamed over my hair and face, fussing with every little detail. I couldn't figure out exactly what that fussing was supposed to achieve, however. My hair probably looked fine and rubbing fingers along my lips and cheeks was unlikely to do anything but creep me out. "Are you almost done?" I demanded impatiently, wanting the peculiar activity, and the discomfort that came with it, to end already. "Be patient," my sister's voice instructed. "You want to look your best don't you?" "Yes, but-" I began a new protest, but that was as far as it got. One finger found my lips, pressing upon them to silence my words. As it did, Misha's face came into view, stopping in front of my own. "Shhh," the older girl shushed before offering a bright smile. "You'll be beautiful. Trust me." While I let out a frustrated huff, I didn't argue further. That allowed my sister to go back to fussing about my head, doing ... whatever it was she was doing. As far as I could tell, it was nothing. My face felt the same. My hair felt the same. I felt the same. "There," Misha declared in a seemingly arbitrary manner. Stepping back, she assessed her work, gaze sweeping over me with a smile on her face. "Perfect." "Perfect?" I questioned dubiously. The only thing I could be perfect as is being perfectly laughable. "Mmhmm," my sister hummed in confirmation. "Wanna see?" Rolling my eyes, I shrugged. "Why not." "3 ... 2 ... 1 ... and ..." Misha counted down as she reached out to grab the back of my seat. Then, much to my surprise, the chair proved to be one that could swivel, allowing her to spin me around to face a mirror. "Ta da!" My jaw just dropped. There was no other possible reaction to what I saw in the mirror. It was just so unbelievable, so impossible. The person there couldn't be me, and yet, it had to be me. They were the only person sitting in a chair with my sister behind them. The most obvious distinction between myself and the reflected person was that she was a girl - a very beautiful one. Her hair was long and glossy black, her skin flawless and dusky, her eyes a bewitching emerald green. Stunning features, a slender frame, and lush curves encased in a slinky red dress completed the image of flawless femininity. Somehow, that was me. "Told you you'd be beautiful," Misha remarked smugly from behind me. Almost prompted by that affirmation, I lifted my hands intent on touching my face and body to confirm the impossibility that I was witnessing. I stopped short, however, too full of disbelief to even bring myself to confirm my skepticism. Lingering within that moment was just too tempting. Giggling, my sister bent down, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. "You're going to just be the best little sister," she whispered warmly, then gave me a little squeeze. Like a balloon popping, I jerked awake, shredding the dream into tatters. In its place was my dark room, much like it always was. For some reason, I was sitting up in bed with my hands already lifted in front of me. It was almost like I had been sleepwalking, mirroring my movements within that vivid mindscape. For a moment, I just sat there like that while my brain tried to sort through what was going on. As it did, though, a odd sensation built within me, dark and twisting. Then, it crested washing over me like some tidal wave of panic. Desperately, I jerked my hands down, patting at my chest and groin. I wanted to find the dream there, the beautiful girl from the mirror, but of course, I didn't. There were no breasts. There was a dick. I was still the same pudgy boy that I was used to. That fact was so much more unbearable than it had ever been. Doubling over, I clutched at my stomach and tried in vain to fight back tears that would not be stopped. "Why couldn't it be real?" *********************************************** *********************************************** "What are you doing?" Misha asked. "Lying here," I answered blandly, not even bothering to roll over to face my sister. I just stayed right where I was on my bed, staring at a blank spot on the wall. "Ask a stupid question, I suppose ..." Misha muttered before trying a different approach. "Why are you lying there?" Shrugging, I let out a heavy sigh. "Nothing else to do." "Well, that's not true," my sister countered. "You could always stop being a wuss and go make up with Jordan." "No, I can't," I muttered despondently. Why would someone as awesome as Jordan want to forgive me? I was just a disgusting loser who'd acted like an idiotic jerk. He deserved better. I could almost hear the eye roll in my sister's voice when she responded. "Oh, please. Stop being such a girl. Boys are supposed to butt heads with each other, then get over it." At that moment, I was very glad that my back was to my sister. That way, she couldn't see me wince at the girl remark. If only I was a girl, especially the girl from my dream last night, then ... it didn't matter. I wasn't that person and never would be. "Well, gonna man up or not?" Misha demanded when I didn't respond. "No," I huffed wearily, having no interest in doing anything at all, especially not something 'manly'. "Suit yourself," my sister remarked dismissively. In the wake of those words, I heard fading footsteps, indicating that she had walked away. Just to be sure, I twisted about to peek over my shoulder. Sure enough, no one stood in my doorway anymore. I was, once again, alone. Sighing, I flopping back onto the bed, returning my gaze to the empty spot on the wall. I didn't really look at it, though. My eyes were completely unfocused, and my mind completely uninterested in the outside world. The only thoughts that passed through my head were about how pointless everything was and how it would've been better if I'd never woken up again. I stayed like that for a while. I couldn't have said how long it was, though. Time really had no meaning at that point. Each moment was as useless as the one before it and the one that would come after. The only thing that could make me happier was if there were no more moments at all. Pointless as it was, time refused to just stop for good. I knew that because, after some of it had passed, I heard footsteps once more. This time, they were approaching, and with them, I felt anger. Why couldn't my sister just leave me alone? A knock on my door triggered my fury, causing me to shove myself up, twist around, and prepare to yell out. Instead, my fury died, and the lungful of breath meant for a tirade ended up seeping out of me in a surprised little gasp of, "Jordan!" "Hey," the other boy greeted with a wan smile on his face. Panic and confusion set in at the sight of my best friend. I had no idea what to do. I had no idea how to react. I couldn't even figure out how he had gotten to my door. As such, the best response I could manage was a stammered, "Wh- ... what are you doing here?" "You're sister made me come over," Jordan answered with a little laugh. "I didn't realize how scary protective she could be." Chuckling, I looked down at the bed shyly. "Yeah ... she can get like that sometimes. Sorry." "Well, I suppose there was good reason this time," my friend remarked. "I've apparently been a real asshole." Jerking my gaze up, I shook my head fiercely. "No! You came over here to apologize and I was a total jerk." "Which you only felt the need to be because of my asshole-ishness," Jordan countered. "That's ..." I mumbled, my gaze falling once more. "That's not the problem." For a couple of moments after that, there was just silence. Each one that passed served to make me more embarrassed as I felt the other boy's gaze upon me. For that reason, I wanted to curse my sister's involvement, but at the same time, Jordan was there, because of her. I found it very hard to be mad about that. Beneath me, the bed shifted as Jordan plopped onto the edge with a heavy sigh. "Look, I really don't want to argue. Can we just forgive each other and move on?" I couldn't help but smile at that request. "Yeah, of course." "Great, 'cause you would not believe how bored I've been the last couple days," Jordan moved right along. Looking up, I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? No more pool parties." "Nope," my friend confirmed. "I can't get a ride anywhere 'cause of my stupid parents, and everybody else has been too busy with actually fun shit to come hang out at my place." "That sucks," I empathized, although my problem was pretty different. Jordan couldn't get to the places people wanted him to be. I, on the other hand, wasn't wanted anywhere. "Y'know, I bet my mom would give you a ride somewhere if you asked." "Ya think?" the other boy checked. I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, you're always welcome for dinner and shit. If you just ask for a lift afterwards, I bet she'd say yes." "Hmm ..." Jordan hummed thoughtfully. "I may have to try that sometime." "You should," I pressed. For another moment, the other boy considered that possibility before shrugging. "Well, whatever. I ain't got any place to be right now, so how 'bout we find something to do. Got anything fun around here?" "Not really," I admitted, glancing about the room. Doing so prompted a sudden rush of anxiety. After all, Jordan pretty much never entered my space, a fact that I was glad for. Half of the books on my bookcase were romance novels, as was the one on my nightstand. I had some of my sisters old clothing catalogues around as well. If he noticed any of that, I'd probably just die on the spot. I needed to get him out of there before he could. "Wanna go downstairs and watch a movie?" That proposal earned a disinterested shrug from my friend. "Sure, why not." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 09 "So, how'd it go?" Misha asked, poking her head through my door. "You two looked all chummy again when you were downstairs." Looking up from my book, I smiled softly at my sister. "Did we?" "Yep," the girl confirmed as she stepped inside. "Seemed like everything is all fixed up." "Well, I suppose it is," I confirmed, looking down at my lap. "Thanks to you." "Aw, I didn't do much," Misha replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Just threatened to get some of my guy friends to beat him up ... every week for the rest of the year." That admission earned a light laugh from me. "Oh, is that all? No wonder he was so scared of you all of a sudden." "I could do worse," my sister replied with a shrug. Walking over, she plopped onto the bed next to me and slid an arm around my shoulders. "It's nice to see you not moping around anymore." "Yeah ..." I mumbled, even as thoughts of why I'd been so depressed that day filtered into my head. After all, it hadn't just been the fight with Jordan that had been bothering me. Getting it resolved had helped my mood, but the dreams that I'd had the last few nights, and the pain that came with waking from them, still haunted me. "Something still bothering you?" Misha asked in concern. Snapping from my worries, I jerked my gaze up, forced a smile onto my face, and shook my head. "Nope, just got lost in thought for a second there." Rather than just accept that answer, my sister screwed her face up in worry. "You sure?" "Yep, couldn't be better," I lied. "Jordan and I are hanging out again tomorrow, the book I'm reading is great, and I have the best big sister in the whole world." "Suck up," Misha teased, jostling me with a bump of her shoulder. "Maybe, but only a little bit," I countered with a smirk. Rolling her eyes, my sister released me to stand up again. "Alright, well, I'll let you get back to your book then. G'night." "G'night," I parroted back. With that, Misha turned and walked away. The moment she left the room, the bright facade that I'd put on vanished as my shoulders slumped. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for her help or in a better mood than I had been that morning. It was the need to lie that bothered me. I wanted to tell the truth, to be able to talk to someone, anyone, about the mess of crazy inside my head, but ... "She'd never understand," I sighed, flopping back onto the bed. It wasn't just Misha either. No one would ever understand. Feeling a wave of gloom coming on, I tried to push it away. Simple force of will wasn't going to be enough, though, so I grabbed the book that I'd been reading as well. Hopefully, it would prove to be a decent distraction until it was time to fall asleep. *********************************************** *********************************************** When I first cracked opened my eyes, I thought it had to be morning. There was just too much light for it not to be. After all, my whole room was illuminated, not just the area in front of the window. That was when I started noticing that things were wrong. "What the hell?" I questioned as I sat up in my bed and looked around. Nothing about my room made sense. For one, it was bathed in this strange silvery light that seemed to come from nowhere yet illuminated everything with its touch. The objects illuminated were all wrong, too. My furniture seemed to be made out of giant flowers instead of wood and particle board. A pink lily of all things served as my bed, while my desk chair seemed to be a tulip. There were even some things that shouldn't have even have been there at all, like a full-body mirror shaped like a sunflower. Bewildered by the absurd sight, I spent the next few moments just staring at my surroundings. There was no way that what I saw could be a prank. Such massive plants just didn't exist. But what else could be happening? A delusion? A dream? There my mind had something to latch onto, calming me down in the process. I had to be dreaming. That explained the weird light, the flowers, everything. All of it was just a figment of my imagination. Content in that knowledge, I smiled at my surroundings and took a deep breath. The rich smell of a florist's shop filled my nose, tickling my senses. There were many different scents mingling together, but they did so wonderfully, resulting in something sweet and gentle rather than overpowering. "Would make a good perfume," I thought as I slid out of my bed to explore. After all, if I was going to have a lucid dream, I should do my best to enjoy it. When else would I have the chance to walk in a supersized flower garden? Strolling around the room, I leaned in to give each flower its time. I'd whiff its scent, caress its petals, even try out its practicality as a piece of furniture. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so much given that it was a dream, each item was not just perfectly serviceable, but quite comfortable and easy to use. It was in the midst of moving between spots that something new caught my eye, causing me to drift in a different direction. This new path led toward my room's window and the view of the world beyond. What awaited me there, blew me away. At best, from my window, I should've seen a few dim street lights and the dark, squat shapes of the simple houses that populated the neighborhood. Nothing of the sort could be found outside my window, however. The world, like my room, was bathed in shimmering silver, courtesy of a massive moon that hung in the sky above. Below, the light revealed streets that looked to be made of cobblestone, and an endless series of houses that were only sort of houses. Instead of square constructions of wood, these buildings had smooth curves, combining together into all manner of shapes. These configurations had only one thing in common. They were all fruits and vegetables. Potatoes, broccoli, an eggplant, and many other varieties could be seen, sprawling out in a picture of suburbia that could just as easily be the produce section of a local grocer. As enthralling as the sight was, it could not keep me from noticing a streak of gold dive down from the sky. It shot toward the street before pulling up with the beat of white, feathered wings. A moment later, a woman landed gently on the sidewalk in front of one of the houses across the street. There, she glanced around, briefly turning my way. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the woman's face. She was impossibly beautiful with regal features framed by long, green hair. The copper of fox ears thrust up from that verdant mane, twitching and tilting about in response to the sounds of the city at night. Most noteworthy of all, though, was the golden tiara upon her brow. In that moment, I found it hard to not dip into some sort of show of reverence, bowing, kneeling, curtseying, anything to this picture of queenly authority. Even though she was far away and wouldn't be able to see me, I still felt the urge. Only a desire to not look away kept me upright, allowing me to watch her every moment. Sadly, my vigil did not last for long. Soon, someone else landed beside the green-haired royal, a man that looked more like a chess piece than a person. I was too focused on the woman to really pay attention to him. I did know that they exchanged a few words, then turned to walked into the house that they'd stopped at. Even once she was gone from my sight, though, I kept watching, waiting, hoping that she would come out again. If she did- With a start, I went from standing at the window to lying in my bed. The silvery light was gone, and with it the dreamscape of floral beauty that had briefly replaced my room. The fleeting nature of such things tore at my heart, getting me to glance around in a desperate hope that there might be some trace of the lost fantasy. There was nothing, though. "Damn ... I wanted to see her again," I sighed as I flopped back onto my pillow. Staring up at the ceiling, I tried to fall back to sleep, to return to the dream, but while I managed to get back to sleep, I failed to find that place again. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Ugh ... I look like shit," I muttered, and for once it wasn't out of self-loathing. The night before had been wondrous, but decidedly not restful. The one beautiful dream had represented only a short period of sleep. After it ended, I had taken hours to fall back asleep, and when I did, it was only in an intermittent and unsatisfying way. Now, I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, paying the price for the rough night. Staring back at me from the reflective service was a boy that looked like he hadn't slept at all the previous night, and possibly not even the night before that. My eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles hung under my eyes. The rest of me just seemed ... lackluster, lifeless, and dim. There were all sorts of little things that could account for this, a slouch in my shoulders, a limp lack of volume to my hair, whatever, but it all just worked to create a general sense of weariness that was unfortunately accurate. I was very tired. "Oh well ..." I sighed, lacking the energy to try to fix all the little problems. I doubted that I would actually be able to fix them anyway, and even if I did, Jordan was unlikely to care. After all, I wasn't my sister or Andrea or anyone that might draw his interest. Resigned to a rough day, I turned and trudged out of the bathroom. Back in my room, I grabbed my phone and plopped onto the bed. There were no messages, but Jordan had said that if he didn't contact me by one to just come on over. Frustratingly I still had fifteen minutes to kill until then. Glancing at the door, I considered going back to the mirror to fuss about for a bit, but exhaustion won out a second time. Instead, I just set my phone on the bed next to me, leaned back, and grabbed my book. As long as I made sure to not get too invested and lose track of time, I could get through a few pages while I waited. To my surprise, I barely got a couple words in before my phone sprang to life. A quick check confirmed a message from Jordan telling me to come over whenever. Naturally, I took 'whenever' to mean 'right away', tossing my book aside and hopping off my bed. A few seconds later, I was already out the front door. Like I always did to go to my friend's house, I started to turn to the left, when the flicker of something in my peripheral vision on the right got me to instinctively glance that way. The sight that awaited me caused me to instantly freeze, all thoughts of my current task vanishing from my mind in a snap. Somehow, impossibly, there, across the street, at the same house that I'd seen her enter in my dream, stood the winged woman from the night before. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 10 I blinked. I blinked again. I tried a third time. All three efforts failed. Still, my eyes saw something that couldn't possibly be there, something from a dream, standing in the real world. When vision correction didn't work, I tried to figure out if I had fallen asleep somehow. I'd been on my bed not that long ago. Maybe, instead of getting a message, I'd drifted off, and everything since had been a dream. It didn't feel like a dream, though. Never in a dream had I felt tired, the weight of a restless night dragging on me. Nothing else in the world seemed dreamlike either. The houses, including my own, were just normal houses. The sky showed an uncomfortably hot summer sun like it had the day before. There was even a car that rolled by, briefly obstructing my view, and yet, when it passed, the vision remained. I was stunned. Overwhelming as it all was, I just stood there staring at the woman that I'd seen in my dream the night before. She looked exactly as I remembered her, and that memory was so vivid that it was hard to even believe that it had been a dream at all. The fact that she stood there with her white wings, green hair, and fox ears and tail seemed to put that fact into even more doubt. Had I really seen her the night before? But that was impossible. I had woken from that illusion to find myself still in bed. At the same time, I had also seen a flower garden for my room that had vanished alongside my slumber. She just couldn't be, but there she was, so impossibly beautiful that she seemed to be brighter than the already bright day. As I watched, the winged woman lifted a hand to wave. A moment later, someone else came into view. She was nothing like the dream, a perfectly mundane, middle-aged woman that was almost unnoticeable by comparison. In fact, I found it hard to even briefly glance her way, and in my thoughts, I had only a vague impression of her mediocrity. My attention was just too focused on the other person. Unfortunately, the arrival of this normal person apparently spelled the end of my viewing. After only a short conversation, both women went into the house, taking them from my sight as they closed the door behind them. In the wake of that departure, I kept right on looking that way, staring at the house and wondering. What was going on there? Who was the woman? If I waited around, would I see her again when she left? I had no answer to those questions, leaving me wanting to just stay there in unfounded hope, but there was a problem with that. Now that the dazzling woman was out of sight, the tangle in my thoughts was starting to unravel. With it came a reminder that I had been on my way to Jordan's. Hesitating, I glanced down the street toward where I needed to go then back at the house the woman had entered. There were few things that could get me to consider not hanging out with my best friend, but an impossible dream walking about in reality was one of them. Still, there was little chance that I would see her again, even if I waited. It took a few moments of looking back and forth before I finally sighed and turned to continue on down the road. I didn't want to keep Jordan waiting. In spite of that, I kept glancing back every few steps, hoping to catch another glimpse. I never did. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Vali," Jordan's voice pronounced sharply. Snagged by the use of my name, I jerked my head up to look at the other boy. "Huh? What's up?" My friend screwed his face up in a mix of confusion and worry. "What's with you today? You keep staring off into space." "Nothing ... I'm fine," I muttered, waving off the other boy's concern. My friend's response was a decidedly dubious expression. "Uh uh ... wait, you're not still thinking about that weird lady you said you saw?" "No! Of course not!" I lied. That was exactly what I had been thinking about. I hadn't really been able to think of anything else since. There was just something about the woman that drew me. A sense of wonder maybe? Hope? I didn't know. Jordan smirked. "So you were thinking about her?" "Yes ..." I admitted with a heavy sigh, hoping that would be the end of it. Of course, it wasn't. "So this girl's your type? Supermodel mythical ... creature ... hybrid ... thing?" my friend questioned, struggling a bit to find a proper descriptor. Groaning, I ran my hands over my face. "Ugh ... can we not do the whole 'type' thing again? It didn't go so well last time." "Fair enough," the other boy conceded. "Either way, she sounds pretty crazy from what you told me, wings and everything like that. Think she's one of those superheroes or something?" "I don't know," I answered. "I never seen one that looks like her on the news." Jordan tilted his head to the side. "How do you know for sure, though? I mean, maybe that's how she got in your dream. You actually saw her on TV first." "Trust me, if I'd seen her before, I'd remember," I countered. "She's pretty unforgettable." "Yeah, you're probably right," my friend replied with a laugh. "I mean, it's not like there are winged women all over the place." "Especially not with all the rest of the stuff like the fox ears or the green hair," I added, chuckling as well. "Exactly," the other boy agreed, but I barely heard him. Describing the woman brought the memory of seeing her right back to the forefront of my thoughts. With it came a sense of longing, a wish that slipped from my lips. "Hope I get to see her again." "Oh?" Jordan perked up at my unintentional admission. Jerking my attention back to the boy, I quickly shook my head even as I felt my cheeks heat up. "Nothing, just talking to myself." "Yeah, well, you shoulda been a little quieter, then, 'cause I heard ya loud and clear," my friend told me. "Or you could just ignore it, since you obviously weren't meant to hear it," I retorted. Jordan tilted his head back and forth. "I probably could, but I'm not gonna, 'cause it gave me an idea." "You're not gonna make me go ask her out are you?" I queried warily. "No, not exactly anyway," my friend answered. "I was just thinking that, after all this talk, I kinda wanna see her, too. We should go over there and, like, try to sneak a peek through a window or something." "Through a window? That's kinda creepy ..." I pointed out. The other boy shrugged. "Alright, fine, no peeking. How about we just hang out on the porch at your place and see if we can spot her when she comes out?" "Uhm ... " I hummed uncertainly at the proposal. It sounded a little creepy, too, but I did want to see the woman again. Technically, we wouldn't be doing anything wrong. "... alright, I guess." "I knew you'd come around," Jordan replied, grinning as he popped up from his seat. "Now, let's go." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Alright, that's it. We've sat here long enough," Jordan declared as he shoved himself out of the patio chair that he'd been using. "We're takin' a peek." "No, we're not!" I argued, staying firmly planted in my own seat. "Oh, come on!" the other boy protested. "We've been sitting here for hours! We gotta at least figure out if she's even still in there!" Folding my arms, I shook my head staunchly. "Not happenin'." "Ugh ... fine!" my friend huffed, flopping back into his seat. "But this is unbearable." "Too bad," I told him curtly. In spite of my steadfast resistance, I completely understood the other boy's position. I wanted to see the woman, too, quite badly in fact. Several times during our wait, I'd had the same temptation to just go over there and sneak a quick peek through a window just to catch a glimpse and make sure that she was there. The draw was almost irresistible, but at the same time, the idea of transgressing against someone so ... transcendental was unbearable. Across from me, Jordan slouched in his chair, sighed, and wiped a hand across his sweat-slick brow. "It's way too fuckin' hot to just be sitting out here all afternoon." "Wanna go inside?" I inquired. The other boy shook his head. "Nope. Might miss her then." "How about a drink, then?" I offered helpfully. "Ah ... a nice cold soda would be perfect right about now," my friend sighed wistfully. Chuckling, I rolled my eyes "Yeah, it would be, but you know my mom doesn't keep that stuff in the house." "Frosty beer?" Jordan tried with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Sure, if you never wanna get to hang out ever again," I joked. Thwarted, the other boy let out a heavy sigh. "Well, what do you actually have? Just water?" "Milk, too, and, uh, I think there might be some lemonade made up in there," I rattled off the possibilities. "Lemonade if you've got it, otherwise water," Jordan answered. Smiling, I pushed myself up from my seat. "On it, but if she comes out, you gotta yell for me." "Will do," my friend promised readily. With a quick wave, I headed into the house. After the boiling heat outside, the first blast of the AC felt so good that I couldn't help but sigh in delight. I kept moving, though, off to the kitchen to grab drinks. As I'd guessed, there was some lemonade in the fridge, so I poured a couple of glasses, tossed in a little ice to keep them cool, and headed right back outside. "Here ya go," I said as I offered one of the drinks to Jordan. "Thanks," the other boy mumbled, taking the glass and putting it straight to his lips for a long chug. "Mmm ... that's better." Chuckling, I slid back into my own seat and took a small sip. Apparently, the brief break in the AC hadn't been enough, because the cold, tart drink felt so good sliding down my throat, causing me to mirror my friend's delighted moan. "Mmm ... Definitely." "Now, we just need the girl to show up," Jordan remarked, glancing over at the house we'd been watching as he lifted his cup for another gulp. The glass had only just touched the other boy's lips when he went straight from drinking to spewing out a fine mist of lemonade. At the same time, his eyes shot wide with obvious disbelief. I knew in an instant that there was only one thing that could possibly cause such a reaction. Jerking my head around, I followed Jordan's gaze and, sure enough, there she was, the woman from before. Her otherworldly brilliance still shown brighter than the sun, so radiant as to make her an unignorable beacon of resplendence. Even after hours sitting there, waiting for her return, expecting it to happen at any moment, I still found myself unable to believe that she was really there. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 11 "Wow ..." Jordan breathed, not even seeming to register the sticky mess that he'd made with his drink. All of his attention was focused on the woman that had exited the house down the street. "She is ... wow ..." Lost in my own daze, I barely managed an absent nod and murmured, "Yeah ..." in response. That was just the sort of appearance the woman had, an overwhelming ... splendor that made the whole world around her seem dull and gray by comparison. After that, both of us drifted into silence, content to just stare off at the woman. At the moment, she was talking to a little girl. It had to be about something light-hearted, because I saw her smiling and laughing. I could just imagine how that had to sound, like the beautiful tinkle of windchimes. In fact, the impression was so strong that I could almost hear it. As she reveled in her mirth, the woman glanced about, quite innocently. At least, so it seemed until her gaze met mine. There, it stopped, making it very clear that she could see me staring. Even as overwhelmed as I was by the sight before me, enough embarrassment flooded me to overpower it. My gaze jerked down as my cheeks heated up. All the while, my mind, previously empty of any thought but admiration, filled past overflowing with worries and curses. What was I thinking just staring like that? I was an idiot! Was she mad? Oh please let her not be mad! "Oh shit, she's coming over here," Jordan's voice penetrated the whirlwind of thought. "What?!" I gasped, yanking my gaze back up. Sure enough, the sight of the winged woman approaching greated me. She did so with preternatural grace, almost as if she were gliding along the ground. Only the sensuous sway of her hips and bounce of her hair and chest made the impact of her steps noticeable. Such movements were almost hypnotic, as well, drawing in the eye and mind and leaving me once more enraptured. Before I knew it, the woman was stopping at the foot of my house's porch. She looked up, head cocked slightly to the side as her gaze bored into me. Actually, it almost felt like she was looking past me, or at least past my physical self, to gaze upon something deeper, something raw and usually hidden from others such as my thoughts or soul. Like when I was caught staring, a sudden embarrassment struck me. It was far greater than before, a outwelling of not just bashfulness but also shame that almost drove me to tears with its power. I didn't know what she saw, but I didn't want it revealed. In spite of that desire, she saw it, and there was nothing I could do about it but stand there and bear the gaze that cut deep into my self. "What are we doing? I thought you were gonna fly!" a little girl's voice cut through the moment's awkward quiet. For the first time, I noticed that the little girl from earlier had followed the winged woman across the street. Now, she stood at the adult's side, tugging on her skirt for attention. It wasn't enough to get the woman to look away from me. "Sorry, Button. I'll fly soon. I just wanted to talk to these two first," the woman answered, resting a hand atop the little girls head. "Alright?" "I guess ..." the little girl mumbled in obvious disappointment. In the wake of that exchange, silence returned. The woman stared at me, and I stared back, frozen in her gaze. I wanted to move, though. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to be freed from the look that pierced through me, but I couldn't do anything. "We're sorry for staring, miss," Jordan managed to interject a moment later. "You're just ... I mean ... it's not every day you see someone with wings." Finally, the woman looked away from me, turning her gaze on my friend. Instantly, I slouched, panting heavily for breath. It was as if her eyes had pinned me up against a wall, and only now had I been let down. "That's alright. I'd probably stare, too," the woman remarked with a wry smile. "I'm Alaria by the way." "J-Jordan," my friend stuttered. "And this is Vali." "Vali?" Alaria repeated, her penetrating stare shifting back to me. "That's an unusual name." Once again trapped in the woman's sight, I tried to think of what to do. I should answer, should explain my name. I usually had to when I introduced myself, because it was, as she'd said, an unusual name. When I opened my mouth, though, nothing came out. "It's Romanian," Jordan blessedly answered for me. "His parents are from there." "Really?" Alaria mused without looking away from me. She just tilted her head slightly. "Yeah, it's short for, Valeriu? Right, Vali?" my friend continued. From the corner of my eye, I could even see him give me a look that implored me to get myself together. In spite of that plea, I barely managed a nod and weakly stammered, "Y- Yes." "Interesting ..." the woman murmured thoughtfully. "Were you ancestors gypsies?" "Gypsies?" Jordan repeated in confusion. "Why would you think that?" "He just ... nevermind," Alaria began only to end up bowing her head slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be presumptuous." That movement broke the paralyzing gaze, while the woman's humility bestowed newfound confidence. Finally, I managed to put together a coherent thought and pass it through my lips. "D-Don't worry about it. It's actually a common mistake. Gypsies are Romani, not Romanian - well, some of them are both, but not all of them." "Ah, that is confusing, especially when they're usually portrayed with eastern european accents," the woman remarked as she once more raised her gaze to me. Strangely, this time, Alaria's eyes didn't seem so piercing, not locking me in their place like before, so I could actually respond. "Yeah, that happens a lot. Esmeralda is probably the most famous gypsy, though, and she's french." "Esmeralda? From Hunchback of Notre Dame?" the woman inquired. I nodded. "Yep, that's the one. I used to watch that movie all the time when I was a kid. The book's a little dark, though." "Is that so?" Alaria mused as a warm smile brightened her face. In fact, it was so bright that I found it hard to even look at it. Averting my gaze, I rubbed at the back of my neck nervously. "Yeah ... I loved that movie." "I see," the woman replied. An empty moment passed in the wake of that response. I tried to think of more to say, wanting the conversation to continue and the awkwardness of silence to stay far away. However, nothing came to mind, leaving me floundering uncomfortably. "Well, I think I've made Lindsey wait long enough. It was nice meeting you two," Alaria spoke up when I failed to do so. Stuck in a wordless rut, I just nodded slightly and hummed out a weak, "Mmm." Thankfully, Jordan came to the rescue, adding, "It was nice meeting you, too." Offering one last smile, the woman turned her attention to the girl beside her. "Ready to see me fly, Linds?" "Yeah!" the child exclaimed excitedly. "Okay, but I need some space, so can you go stand over by the driveway?" Alaria asked, pointing to the path that led from my house to the street. Nodding rapidly, the little girl took off, rushing over to the indicated spot. There, she stopped, spun around, and hopped in place with obvious anticipation. "This good?" "Yes, now give me a countdown," the woman told her. "3 ... 2 ... 1 ... !" the child started out, low and eager. As the numbers rolled by, Alaria spread her wings. Unfurled, they began to radiate a golden light. Motes of that luminescence even dripped from the tips of her feathers to create a fine sprinkling of stardust that drifted in the air. "Go!" the little girl finally screamed. Instantly, Alaria leapt. Wings beat and air swirled, but it was all so fluid, so oddly gentle that it looked impossible for her to be generating enough lift. In spite of that, she rose, flying up into the air. From the porch, I followed every movement with complete rapture. I watched as the woman banked back, diving low to zip by over the little girl's head, much to the latter's delight. After that, she climbed once more, before cutting to the left, passing over a rooftop, and disappearing. "Wow!" the little girl squealed for all three of us that had been watching, because neither Jordan nor I could speak. Spinning about, she dashed back across the street, shouting. "Mommy, mommy, did you see that?!" For another moment, I just kept looking up at the sky to where I had last seen the woman before, finally, I glanced toward Jordan. The other boy shot a look right back that said that he was as awed by the experience as I was. Neither of us even said a word before our attention went right back to the sky. I knew the woman wouldn't reappear, but I hoped that she would. I hoped that, at the very least, I would get to see her again, talk to her again. She seemed to have some sort of association with that family across the street, so it wasn't that unlikely of a hope. At least, that was what I told myself. "That was so worth waiting out here in all that heat," Jordan finally spoke up, breaking the silence. Still looking up at the sky, I nodded absently. "Yeah." "She was so ... so ..." the other boy floundered for words. "I'm so glad you told me about her." The sudden gratitude pulled my gaze back down as I furrowed my brow. "Huh? Oh, uhm ... you're welcome. Thanks for sitting out here with me." "My pleasure, man. Like I said, totally worth it," Jordan replied before glancing over toward the house across the street. "You think she lives with that family?" I could only shrug helplessly. "I don't know. They just moved in a few days ago. I haven't seen her around before, though." "You mean other than your dream last night?" my friend checked. "Right," I confirmed. That answer pulled a heavy sigh from the other boy. "Shit. I was hoping she'd be around a lot, 'cause she's ... damn." I nodded in complete agreement. "I know what you mean." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 12 "Ah ... sweet sweet AC," Jordan sighed as he flopped onto the couch inside the house. Chuckling, I started toward the kitchen to get my friend a clean glass and a refill. "It was pretty blistering out there." "Y'know what else was blistering? How hot that chick was," Jordan commented. "I mean ... jeee-sus. She looked like a walking wet dream, and I bet she feels like one, too." That remark had me crinkling up my nose a little as I returned with a fresh glass of lemonade and offered it to the other boy. "She certainly was beautiful." "Oh, she was way more than just beautiful," Jordan continued as he took the drink from me. "Andrea's beautiful, and I woulda dropped her like that," He snapped his fingers. "If I thought I had any chance with her." "Really?" I asked as I took a seat in one of the other chairs. "I thought you were really into Andrea." "I am," my friend assured me. "She's hot and puts out. What's not to like?" I raised an eyebrow at that sentiment. "That's all you like about her?" "Yeah ... duh," Jordan answered as if that should be obvious. "I mean ... take that away, and all chicks are pretty much the same, just annoying bitches that talk too much about boring shit and keep ya from hangin' with your boys." "Really?" I questioned, legitimately surprised. In the time I'd known him, I'd seen Jordan date four different girls. Each time, he'd seemed very invested in the relationships. I knew because when he was in one, we spent way less time together than when he wasn't. I also saw him with his girlfriends a lot or at the very least saw him texting with them, and the interaction had always seemed very affectionate. "Yeah, pretty much," the other boy confirmed. Looking down at the ground, I asked, "Uhm ... what if there was a girl that wasn't like that, though? Like she was actually cool to hang out with." "There's just one problem with that. They don't exist," Jordan explained. "The hot ones all know they're hot and end up acting the same way as all the other ones. Only ugly chicks are actually cool, but then you're stuck with an ugly chick. What's the point in that? Might as well just hang out with your bros." "Sure, but what if there was one that was hot and actually cool," I pressed. "You'd want to be with her more than Andrea, right?" "Well, yeah, obviously, but again, no one like that actually exists," my friend answered. "It's like saying I'd rather be with like, I don't know, some sexy demon chick or whatever. I can want it all day every day, but it's never gonna happen." "Yeah ... I guess you're right," I muttered, rubbing at my arm. The other boy did have a point. It was just wishful thinking. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Cartoons? Are you really still that immature?" Misha teased, stopping on her way through the living room to give both me and the TV a disapproving looking. "Says the girl who just spent half the day playing dress up," I shot back from my spot on the couch without turning away from the movie I'd put in after Jordan had left. "I'm not playing dress up, you little shit," my sister countered sharply. "I'm getting ready to go out." That argument earned a shrug from me. "It's hours in front of a mirror trying on different outfits. Sure sounds like playing dress up to me." Rather than immediately shoot back another retort, Misha actually laughed at my assessment. "Ha, it really does, doesn't it?" Twisting my head around the side of the couch, I smirked at her. "Yep, so that makes you the immature one." "I guess it does," the older girl conceded, but she had a smirk of her own on her face. "After all, if you were the immature one, you'd be playing right along with me like you did when you were little." It was at that moment that I lost the contest, heat flushing my cheeks. Quickly, I jerked back around, scrunching down against the back of the couch to hide from my sister. That didn't stop her giggles from reaching me, though. "Aw, is someone embarrassed that he used to love wearing dresses?" Misha kept right on teasing. "No!" I huffed defensively. "I'm just trying to watch a movie here, and you're being a nuisance." "Ah, well excuse me. You have fun, princess," the older girl added one last jibe before I heard the sound of footsteps moving away. Cheeks undoubtedly gettin even redder, I didn't bother with a comeback, choosing to instead focus on my movie. At least, I pretended to do that. Watching a hunchback sing as he pranced around a cathedral didn't prove to be very good at keeping my attention or getting my mind off my sister's comments. As Misha had said, I'd used to play dress up with her all the time when we were younger. In fact, I used to play with her pretty much whenever she would let me. She was my big sister, after all, which made her seem really cool to me. That had largely come to a stop, though, when our mother had caught us in her closet playing around. After that, there'd been a lot of yelling followed by orders that I never do that sort of thing again. Such orders didn't stop the two of us entirely. My sister and I snuck in there a few more times after that, but it was rare. Eventually, she'd gotten too old to be willing to play with a kid like me, and that had truly been the end of it. "Why couldn't I have just been born a girl?" I asked the world at barely a whisper. After all, I couldn't let anyone actually hear me. Maybe the world couldn't hear me either, though. It certainly didn't give me an answer. *********************************************** *********************************************** Letters on the screen blurred together in my vision, a testament to the late hour and too much time spent staring at my computer. Still, the story was so good that I pressed on for a bit more, wanting to see just where it would all go. Would the protagonist accept their new life? Would they be happy? Would they find love? The answer to all of those were almost assuredly yes, but I didn't care. I wanted to see them happen and the journey that led to them, regardless. Unfortunately, desire alone just wasn't going to be enough. My mind started drifting sleepily, reading words without ever actually telling my consciousness what they were. I tried to push through that, too, but at one point, a whole page went by without my having any clue what happened on it. At that point, I gave up. Sighing, I shoved myself sluggishly up from my desk chair to stretch. That woke me up a little, at least enough to be able to walk to my bed without tripping all over myself. The path I took, though, took me by my window. An absent glance through it showed some of the neighborhood and that was enough to pull me to a stop. Drifting closer, I looked over toward the house across the street, the one I'd seen Alaria at. There was no sign of her at the moment. All I could see was dim streetlight and a vague shadow of a home. I did wonder, though. "Hope I get to see her again," I mumbled, repeating my sentiment from earlier that day. The winged woman had just been so ... so ... Try as I might, I couldn't come up with the right word. Jordan would've said hot or smokin' or gorgeous or something like that, but none of that seemed to fit. Certainly, she'd been incredibly beautiful, but what I saw ... what I felt ... it was just ... Shaking my head, I gave up on trying to put words to the feeling. It's exact nature might be elusive, but I knew that I wanted to experience it again. Alaria and the little girl had seemed quite close, so maybe there was some legitimate hope that this desire would be met, unlike so many of my other ones. "I'm probably not that lucky, though," I sighed despondently, turning away from the window. After all, it was far too late to see anything that night. She might come back the next day, though, which was all the more reason to just go ahead and get some sleep already. With that in mind, I walked over to the bed, stripped down, and crawled under the covers. Snuggling deep into the pillow, I called up memories from that afternoon when I'd gotten to meet Alaria, talk to her, and watch her fly. That last part especially had been so ... The smell of flowers, rich and heady filled my nostrils. It was such a lovely fragrance, a perfect mix of so many different scents. It seemed impossible, and yet, my mind told me that I had smelled it before. It had been in a garden, one full of flowers so giant they could serve as bed or chair to a full grown person. Mmm ... that would be so ni- My eyes jerked opened, showing a room cast in not darkness but soft silvery light. That illuminated a very different sort of room as well, one full of giant flowers from my desk chair to the very bed beneath me. I could feel the latter's silken petals on my skin, caressing my cheek in a way far more delicate than any pillow could possibly manage. The sheets that covered me were much the same, so light and soft as to be like a dream. Then again, I supposed that they were, because that was where I'd seen this garden before - deep in slumber. Knowing it all wasn't real put a sad smile on my face. The place, the smell, the light was all so beautiful to the point where my heart ached. If only it could be real. If only dreams could be real. Still, fake or not, such wonder couldn't just be ignored. It had to be seen, felt, and lived - etched onto my very soul, so that I could carry it with me when my eyes opened once more. In that way, it would be no different than any other memory in spite of its unreal nature. However, as I started to rise to do exactly that and let my gaze sweep over the lovely garden that had replaced my room, I found something quite unexpected waiting for me. At the foot of my bed were two figures, one male and one female. The sight of them made my jaw drop and eyes bug wide. "Oh dear," the man, who looked oddly like a chess piece in a navy robe, remarked, speaking through a crack in his stony facade. "I think she can see us." Those words barely registered in my thoughts. I just couldn't focus on them, not with the sight that lay before me. The woman there was of surpassing beauty and grace, so much so that she could outshine even the glory of the dreamscape around her. She was just so much ... so much ... more than everything else. Every detail of her from the verdant lushness of her hair to the tips of her flawless, white wings was impressed upon the world with regal grandeur. It shocked the eye and made the mind want to bow down before it. That was just how unbelievable Alaria was. For her part, the woman didn't seem to find me very believable either. The immaculate aesthetic of her features was twisted by what had to be surprise and confusion. It wasn't much of either, but it was enough to be abundantly clear. "H-How?" Alaria stuttered, turning toward the robed, chess piece beside her. That explained why the woman was confused. Apparently, I wasn't supposed to be able to see her. That was strange, though. After all, it was my dream. Why would I be able to see it? The rook shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know. Sometimes dreamers get temporarily pulled into our world by powerful dreams. Pan's notorious for it." "Pan?" Alaria questioned. "You mean Peter Pan?" "The very same," her robed comrade confirmed, before turning to peer at me like I was some kind of specimen to be examined. "Maybe that's what happened to her." At first, I thought I had misheard. There was a lot of talk about fairy tale characters and dreams to hide it, but there was no doubt. The rook had said her. He'd been looking right at me, too, so it was clear who that 'her' he was referring to was. "How?" I heard the winged woman ask. "I don't see any boys in green tights around." At that moment, however. I was too busy looking down to pay it much heed. The sight that greeted me would've made my jaw drop if it hadn't already been hanging open. Unbelievably, I found two sizable mounds, pushing out the top of a low-cut white dress in an oddly familiar, but old-fashioned style. As such, I could clearly see the smooth curve of them where they swelled out from my chest to create a richly tanned valley of cleavage. With equal parts dread and exhilaration, my hands shot up to grab the globes. To my relief, they didn't just melt away under my hands nor did I jerk awake in my bed. They didn't even have the stiff, fabric-like feel that spoke of sock padding, either. No, they were soft, warm, and very much a part of me. It wasn't possible. I'd never even touched a girl there before, so I couldn't possibly know what they felt like. Yet, I could feel them, and I just knew that they felt perfectly real. "I have boobs ..." I breathed absolutely stunned by the situation. It was just so ... so ... so ... right. "It's not real," Alaria's voice cut into the overwhelming moment. No, it was more like those words cut through me, lancing right through my chest and leaving a gaping ache behind that couldn't be denied. Wanting so badly to believe that I had misheard, I forced my gaze up to the woman and offered a simple, pleading, "What?" "I said, it's not real," the wing woman reiterated damningly. "It's just a dream." This time, the proclamation could not be denied or held back. It tore through every inch of me, leaving behind a ragged hopelessness. It was all fake, the warmth, the softness, the volume - all just a figment of my imagination. "No ... it can't be. It feels so ... so real. It's never been like that before," I whispered, trying to deny the truth with words, but it wouldn't be so easily beaten. After all, I knew the truth. This had to be a dream. The flowers that filled my room proved it. The fact that I wasn't some fat, disgusting boy proved it. Desperately, I clung to my current form, trying to ingrain it into my mind. No, I wanted to ingrain it in my reality, to just force it into the real world. It had to be possible. It just had to be. I couldn't wake up from this. Not again. In the midst of that desperate, mental exertion, I felt something touch me - a hand on my shoulder. It's touch was so gentle and warm, seeping into me to fill the empty black that riddled me. "It's alright. Just calm down," I heard Alaria instruct, her voice soothing and maternal. Drawn by that lilting sound, I looked up, focusing my eyes on the winged woman's face. She looked worried, her purple eyes dark and stormy. At the same time, she was a source of hope. This woman was someone special, someone magical. "Can you ... can you make it real?" I asked, pleaded, begged, clinging to that tiny sliver of hope. A sad helplessness invaded Alaria's eyes at my question while a weak smile curled her lips. "I wish I could." Cracks spread through my heart, but I didn't give up. I couldn't. I didn't care what it took. I couldn't go back to ... to ... to ... that. There had to be a way. There had to be something I could do, some price I could pay. "Could I stay here?" I tried, hoping that this was the way. It might cost me everything, my family, my friends, my life, but it would be worth it. This world was so much better than my own. Even if it meant living in this flower garden by myself for my entire life, I'd still stay just to be a girl. More sadness engulfed the winged woman's face even as she shook her head in yet another rejection. "I'm sorry. It's a dream. Eventually, you're going to wake up." There, my heart shattered, hope dying with it. Hands falling limply to my lap, I dropped my gaze, staring off distantly. There was the wet warmth of tears on my cheeks, the ragged sopping breathing that came from crying. I didn't care. "No ..." one word was crushed out of me, the last bit of anything that mattered. All that was left after that was unfathomable emptiness. Being nothing was a strange thing to be. Time seemed so meaningless. Words were too. I could still perceive both. Alaria and her chess piece friend were talking at that very moment about something, but I didn't process any meaning to it. It would be pointless to do so anymore. Nothing was going to change. Still, in spite of my deliberate obliviousness, I could not ignore the world completely. I felt a hand pat me on my shoulder, a hand that held such gentle warmth. It was joined by a voice full of empathy and care whispering, "May your dream come true," into my ear. Then the beautiful world of the flower garden bedroom where I was the girl I wanted to be broke apart. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 13 Never in all my life had I more loathed the coming of a new day. It was like being cast into hell, knowing that nothing but torture and damnation waited for me. It couldn't be stopped. It couldn't be avoided. It couldn't be changed. There was only pain. Groaning, I tried to fight against waking, tried to clamp my eyes closed and return to the dream. There I could be who I wanted to be, but it wouldn't return. My body wouldn't even let me drift back to sleep. Alaria had been right. It was just a fantasy that I had to wake up from, a brief escape before being cast back into the pit. "It's not fair," I whined into my pillow as tears started to leak through my closed eyelids. I didn't have the resolve to even try to fight against them or the dark wave of depression that brought them. For the next while, the exact length of which I neither knew nor cared to figure out, I just lay there crying. Why not? What better use for my time could there possibly be in this world that was nothing like what I wanted? Reading fantastical stories about things that would never happen for me? Sneaking into my sister's room to torment myself with her clothes? Hanging out with Jordan who would only ever see me as a fat, loser boy that he spent time with out of coincidence and pity? My life was just so utterly pathetic. The most pathetic aspect of my despair was that I couldn't even stick with it. Eventually, the tears dried up and other needs demanded that I get out of bed. Well, I supposed I could've just pissed myself, but I wasn't quite that far gone apparently. Sighing, I shoved myself up from my sopping pillow to glare at the day that so cruelly forced me to be a part of it. I hated the sun that leaked through my window. I hated the bland decorations of my room. I hated the world that hated me. Still, the glare didn't last long before I had to get moving again. Out of the bed I scooted to stand up and get walking. That felt a little strange, undoubtedly from my urgent need to go to the bathroom, but I refused to hurry. Instead, I ambled along like a rotting zombie, unwilling to put forth even the pittance of extra energy it would take to walk at a normal speed. In spite of my lollygagging, I still found my way to the toilet. I tugged down the band of my underpants. I reached down to aim. Then, somehow, I missed. Thinking I must've been more out of it than I thought, I tried again, but nope, stilled missed. Confused, I looked down, and my eyes immediately bulged out. "It can't ... but ... how ..." I hyperventilated the words, unable to describe what I found between my legs. It wasn't what I was used to finding there, that was for sure. In fact, it was something that I hadn't seen before in my life, at least not since I was old enough to know what I was looking at. Yet, there it was, quite literally right in front of me. "I'm a girl ..." I breathed in a mix of disbelief and budding delight. It was the truth, too. The dick that had been there every morning for as long as I could remember was just gone. The space between my hips was almost completely smooth except for a little cleft near the bottom where the skin split apart into a ... uhm ... My cheeks flushed a little as the realization of what I was looking at finally settled in my head. A moment later, embarrassment was joined but a sudden sense of dread as yet more thoughts came to me. This time, it was memories of the many dreams of womanhood I'd had that had always, inevitably, ended in a heartbreaking disappointment. Jerking a hand up, I grabbed the skin on my forearm and pinched hard. The stuff between my legs didn't change. I tried slapping myself across the face. Still, there was no change. I bit down on one of my fingers until I could actually taste the bitter tang of blood. Even then, there was no change. Somehow, I'd woken up as a girl. It took a moment for the knowledge that I wasn't going to wake up to really settle in. I'd just been so certain so many times before and always been wrong. This time seemed to be different, though. This time, I seemed to be getting what I wanted. This time, joy surged in my heart, and there wasn't a terrible morning coming to crush it. Snapping from my stupor, I jumped to the side, putting off the call of nature to hop in front of the mirror. Obviously, the most important part had changed, but there could be other changes too. After all, in my dreams, I wasn't just a girl but a beautiful one. Maybe I was in the real world now, too. Such excitement quickly dipped into uncertainty when I saw my actual reflection, however. There was no stunning beauty waiting for me in the mirror. At the same time, there were some definite differences in my appearance. I didn't know if I should be disappointed I wasn't the former or exciting by every one of the latter. Leaning forward, I reached up to touch my face, poking at bones and running fingers along skin. My features, which had been leaning toward heavy looked more feminine to me - finer and more delicate. I was pretty sure that there was less of the fatty bulbousness, too. Plus, my eyes looked bigger and my skin clearer and a little darker. I wasn't all that different and certainly not ravishing, but I thought I looked like a girl. There were changes beyond just my face, too, a fact that was made more apparent as I ran my hands down my body. My t-shirt was looser than usual, showing a distinct loss of weight. I still looked a little heavy compared to the girls I knew, but not terribly so. Tugging the shirt tight highlighted a few more rather distinct differences. By far the most obvious to me was my chest, specifically the two stiff points that dented out my shirt. Underneath them were small mounds, bumps which on any other day I would've just dismissed as unflattering man-blubber. On that day, though, they had a very different look to me. Grabbing the hem of the shirt, I ripped it up over my head and tossed it aside. Small, perky breasts were bared to the mirror. They thrusted out above a waist that had a bit of an indent to it and hips that had a very slight swell. It wasn't much of a figure, but it was a figure - a girl's figure. "Vali?! You wake?!" I heard my mother's voice call out. Panic gripping me in an instant, I jerked my head around. There at my side was the wide open door to the bathroom which looked out on the second floor landing. That meant anyone coming upstairs or out of a room had a clear view of me as I stood there shirtless with my underpants pulled down. On any other day, that would've been embarrassing enough, but on that day, there were some pretty significant changes to notice - changes I didn't know how to explain. Fortunately, the landing was clear of people, but I still darted over to the door to use it as cover. Only then did I finally yell back, "I'm in the bathroom, Mom!" only to wince slightly at the sound of my voice. I'd never had a particularly manly voice, but over the last year it had lowered noticeably, not counting the somewhat frequent cracks back to adolescence. Every word I'd just said had sounded more like one of those cracks than my normal voice. Even clearing my throat sounded off and did nothing to fix the pitch. "You okay?!" my mother questioned, apparently having noticed the odd sound of my voice. "Yes, Mom!" I lied, trying to sound convincingly nonchalant. "Just gotta sore throat!" "I make chocolate milk then!" my mother responded. "And stop yelling!" The mothering of the childish treat had me rolling my eyes even as I closed the door the rest of the way and sighed in relief. "I guess she bought it," I muttered, but the altered sound of my voice made it hard to relax. A glance in the mirror made it even harder. I wanted to be thrilled by what I saw there - I was thrilled by it - but I was afraid, too. What would my parents think when they found out? How could I possibly explain it to them? I didn't even know what had happened myself. "Alaria must've helped me, after all," I guessed, remembering, with more than a little embarrassment, my begging the winged woman to do exactly that. Why had she said that she couldn't help me if she could, though? Had that just been a flat out lie? Had she just not been sure? Had something else done this to me? "I certainly don't look like I did in the dream," I noted, looking pointedly at my rather small breasts. They'd been much larger in that other world, enough so that they hadn't really fit in my hands. These couldn't even fill my palms. "At least I have them," I said, reaching up to cup the small assets. Tiny or not, that simple fact was enough to put a smile on my face, especially when combined with all the rest. A boyish girl was way better than a boy. Plus, there was always a chance that they would grow. My sister's certainly had when she was my age. I might end up as big as her someday ... or maybe even bigger. Giggling, I just took a moment to bask in the fantasy. It wasn't a new one, and certainly overly optimistic, but at least, for the first time in my life, it was actually possible. Just that little bit of hope felt so very good. Unfortunately, I couldn't just stay lost in the fantasy. Worry soon crept back into my thoughts. It was nice to dream about what might someday be, but I needed to focus on what I was going to do right then. "Mom and Dad are gonna freak," I told myself as I looked in the mirror at the girlified version of me reflected there. There was no telling exactly how such a freak out would go, but I knew my parents weren't going to be happy about this. At best, my mom would get all hysterical thinking I was going to die and then rush me off to the hospital for all sorts of tests. Worry started to turn to fear as I considered that best case scenario. Tests could potentially explain why I'd changed, which seemed nice, except for one problem. If they knew what was doing it, they might also know how to undo it. I didn't want that, but my parents almost assuredly would. Maybe I could convince them otherwise if I just ... Now, I felt true terror. The very idea of standing in front of my parents and trying to tell them that I wanted to be a girl was unfathomable. There was no way that I would ever be able to do it. Besides, they'd never understand. "I'll have to hide it," I decided, looking over my reflection carefully. With a shirt on, I hadn't really looked all that different. Plus, unless I did something stupid like I had a moment ago with the bathroom door, no one was likely to see me without clothes on. If I pretended like nothing had changed, maybe the rest of the family would just go along with it. At least, I hoped they would. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 14 "I guess this'll work," I critiqued as I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom. For the last several minutes, I had been doing my best to disguise the differences in my appearance. Part of that came from leaving my hair unstyled, the locks just sort of dangling down around my face in a way that I hoped would obscure any notice of my finer more feminine features. Extremely baggy clothes hid the lost heft and small, newly developed bust. Obviously loose shorts hid what was now missing between my legs. Altogether, I felt like it did a pretty good job, which I should've been happy about, but I just wasn't. "I wish I didn't have to hide it," I admitted to my reflection. The truth was, I wanted nothing more than to rush to my sister and beg her for the girliest clothes she had that could possibly fit me. No, I wanted to go even further than that. I wanted to enhance not diminish. A padded bra, makeup, heels, anything that would make me even more feminine would be wonderful. If I did that, though, I knew that I would find only anger. A dark despondency crept over me at that knowledge, but it didn't find hold. I was just too happy about being a girl, a feeling that buoyed me up out of the rough waters of depression. Hiding my changes was better than not having changed. It was just for a little while, too. All I needed was some time to think of the right way to bring it up to my parents, a way that would make sure that I would be allowed to stay as I wanted to be. It was all going to be fine. Knock knock! Literally jumping a good inch off the ground in surprise, I spun toward the door with my heart racing in panic. Thankfully, I found it closed, a fact that I'd made sure of several times since coming back from the bathroom. No one had been peeping. No one had overheard the whispered desires that I let leak out to the world. I was fine. It was nothing. "Vali?" my mother's voice called through the door when I didn't immediately answer. "Yeah, I'm coming!" I answered, hurrying over only to come to a very abrupt halt right as I started to reach for the knob. In that moment, the confidence that I'd had in my disguise a moment ago vanished. Fear rushed in to replace it. My mother would see right through my efforts. She'd start screaming about it the moment I opened the door. Then, she'd rush me off, and everything would go to shit again. At least, that was what my mind told me. Unfortunately, I couldn't just leave the door closed. I wasn't that lucky. My mother would never just go away. I had to answer her, to face her, to deceive her. It was my only option. That didn't make it any easier as I reached out. "Hey, Mom. What did ya need?" I asked as I opened the door, trying to seem nonchalant. I even forced a smile onto my face. Out on the landing, my mother stood there with a glass of chocolate milk in hand and a smile on her face. "You no come down, so I bring up." "Oh ... uhm ... thank you," I replied, reaching out to take the drink. "Anything for my sick, little boy," my mother cooed, reaching out to pinch my cheek affectionately. When she did, though, her brow crinkled in worry. "You sure just sore throat?" "Y-Yeah. Of course," I stuttered out defensively. "Why? Do I feel hot or something?" Frowning, my mother shook her head. "No, you just ... nevermind. I make extra for dinner to help you recover. Let me know if you need brought up." "Mom ... I'm fine," I insisted. "I'll be able to come down for dinner." "Okay," my mother conceded that point only to move right onto a different one. "But make sure you get lots of rest." Habit made me let out an exasperated sigh. "I will, Mom." "Good," my mother stated contentedly. "Then, I let you do that. Just yell when you finish milk." "Alright, Mom. I got it," I huffed, wanting to usher her away already. Thankfully, my mother relented after that, offering only one last smile and nod before she turned to go. That let me close the door again. As soon as the latch clicked, I slumped back against it. "I can't believe that actually worked," I muttered, relieved but also a little disappointed. I was finally a girl. I didn't want to be treated like a boy. As luck would have it, I didn't have much time to feel either emotion. Barely a second later, my phone hummed to life, announcing the arrival of a text. Pushing off the door, I walked over to grab the device, finding a message from Jordan about maybe hanging out that afternoon again. A whole gambit of emotions ran through me at the very idea of meeting up with Jordan. A part of me, a very optimistic part, wanted nothing more than to just run right over to his house, to proudly proclaim my new gender and maybe something else as well. It could be a whole new start to our relationship. Of course, the rest of me knew that it could be something else entirely. If I told the truth, if I admitted to him that I'd always wanted this, I didn't know how he'd react. "He's my best friend. He'll understand," I told myself, as I had several times over the last year whenever I was desperate for someone to talk to. Just like all those other times, though, doubt ate at me, joined by a fear that Jordan just wouldn't accept it. How could he? How could anyone? "He will, though," I declared firmly before quickly adding, "But I can't meet up with him, today, anyway. Mom's not gonna let me out while she thinks I'm sick." A moment later, I'd typed out a quick text saying as much and sent it off. Jordan's reply told me to feel better. Another problem solved. "At least, for the moment," I mumbled as I flopped onto my bed. I'd bought myself some time think. Now, I needed to actually figure out what to do, so that I could finally have the sort of life that I'd only ever been able to dream about. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Come on. You can do this," I muttered under my breath, trying to get together the resolve to go ahead. Currently, the way in front of me was blocked by a door. It wasn't the one to my room, which I had been hiding behind for the last couple of hours while trying to think. No, this door led to my sister's room, a room that she was currently inside of. A simple knock would probably be enough to remove the barrier, but that act was proving not so simple to perform. "She's your best bet," I continued trying to convince myself. There was little doubt in my mind that, of all the people I could tell, Misha would be the most likely to be understanding. She was my sister, we got along pretty well, and she knew that I was a little odd. She didn't know that I'd always wanted to be a girl, but she probably wouldn't be too surprised to hear that. Plus, she'd always been very willing to help me in the past. I definitely needed help. In spite of having had hours to think about what to do, I'd come up with no plans I thought were any good. I could keep hiding, but that was, at best, a delaying tactic. Even if I didn't just slip up and reveal the truth accidentally, eventually, someone would notice, if for no other reason that I wouldn't get any more manly as time passed. Well, I hoped that I wasn't going to, anyway. Besides, I didn't want to hide anyway. It was fine for an afternoon, but I hadn't spent all this time wishing and hoping just to conceal it when my dream finally became reality. "No more hiding," came my next effort to rally myself, and this one actually worked. Standing up straight, I raised a hand, moved it right next to the door, then stopped. My face crinkled up in worry, but my resolve held out. Weakly, my wrist flipped my fingers forward, rapping knuckles quietly against the wood. "It's open!" my sister's voice called out from within. The invitation made me wince, but there was no going back. Body stiff with trepidation, I grabbed the knob, pulled the door out of my way, and stepped through. Inside, my sister was lounging on her bed with phone in hand typing away. "Oh ... hey, Vali," the girl greeted glancing up from her phone just long enough to see who had entered. "What d'ya need?" "Uhm ... well ... I, uh ... I need to talk to you ... about ... something," I stammered pathetically, rubbing at one arm nervously. "Can it wait? I'm kinda in the middle of this thing with Logan," Misha informed me. "Uhm ... it could ..." I admitted, almost glad for the excuse to not talk. Logan was a guy from school that my sister had a crush on, so if I left, she might even forget that I'd bothered her at all, allowing me to escape the conversation completely. All I had to do was just flee back to my room. Frowning slightly, my sister looked up from her phone. "And yet, you're still here, which makes me think it can't actually wait. Can it?" Looking down at the floor, I shook my head. "No, not really." "Alright, just give me a sec, then," Misha replied, tapping out a few quick words. Once those were on their way, she tossed her phone onto the bed and scooted over to the edge to sit facing me. "There, all done. Now, what's up?" "Well ... I, y'see ... " I tried to formulate a sentence, but with every word that slipped from my lips my ability to come up with more got worse. Eventually, I just trailed off into silence. Letting out a clearly exasperated sigh, my sister patted the bed beside her. "Alright, come over here," she directed, adding a quick, "Hurry up," when I didn't respond immediately. Jolted out of my rut by the command, I drifted forward, plopping onto the designated spot. Immediately, Misha's arm came up, sliding around my shoulder to pull me against her. Normally, it would be a very comforting gesture, but not that time. Instead, my whole body tensed with fear at being touched, and by extension, possibly being discovered. As if to prove that fear right, the girl remarked, "Hey, did you get taller or something?" Huddling down in the embrace, I shook my head. "No, not exactly." "Lose some weight, maybe?" my sister guessed. "Uhm ..." I stalled. I had lost some weight, and it was a good segue to the topic I'd come to discuss, but I was just too nervous to get an admission out of my mouth. Leaning forward, Misha tilted her head so that she could look back at my face. That let me see her crinkle her brow in concern. "Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen with Jordan again?" This question was something I could deny, so I shook my head again and even got out a simple, "No." Weirdly, that little bit of communication seemed to be enough to break me free of the deadlock in my head. All of sudden, I just heard words falling out of my mouth without even meaning them to. "You were sort of right before. I did lose weight. I lost something else, too, though, and I don't know what to do. Mom and Dad are gonna freak, and I don't even know how Jordan will react, and -" "Whoa, slow down," my sister interjected. "What else did you lose?" "My ... uhm ... my ... " I stalled, rubbing my hands together nervously. After a moment, though, the truth finally leaked out. " ... boy parts." Misha's eyes went wide at that proclamation. "Wh-What?" Lifting my head, I looked my sister right in the eye and declared, "I'm a girl." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 15 "Holy shit!" Misha gasped as she stared at me. "You weren't kidding." "Of course, I wasn't kidding!" I blurted, my cheeks bright red. "Now, can I pull my pants up already?!" "Oh, right! Sure!" my sister allowed even as she jerked her head to the side to stop staring. Burning with embarrassment, I snatched my shorts and underwear and tugged them back up over my hips. That hid my female sex, the viewing of which was the proof my sister had ended up demanding before she would believe that I wasn't playing some kind of joke on her. Even covered, though, I still felt completely bare. While I dressed, Misha planted a hand on her forehead and shook her head while mumbling, "Unbelievable. You're actually a girl. My little brother turned into a girl." Standing there, watching my sister's overwhelmed reaction, I started getting really uneasy. If she was taking it this badly, there could be problems. She might even tell our parents, and that would lead to something even worse. I had to do something to calm the situation down. "I didn't just turn into a girl," I spoke up apprehensively. Dropping her hand, Misha looked up at me with confused eyes. "What do you mean by that? Are there even more changes?" Quickly, I shook my head. "No, it's just ... well ... I wanted this." "You wanted to turn into a girl?" my sister questioned incredulously. This question got a bashul, little nod from me. "Mmhmm." Misha gave no immediate response. Instead, she just stared at me for the next few seconds, offering at most the occasional blink. I could sort of understand that. It was quite the revelation to admit to. However, the pressure of that gaze seemed to get worse and worse with every moment that passed by, making me want to shrivel up until I was completely gone. "I see ..." my sister finally murmured, nodding slowly. "So ... uhm, you did ... something to cause this?" "No, well ..." I started to deny before catching myself. "I did sorta wish for this ... in a dream." "You made a wish in a dream?" Misha paraphrased. "And then you just woke up like this?" I nodded. "Yeah ... sorta ... y'see there was this girl there from across the street, and she's, like ... I don't know. It's hard to really describe her, but she's sorta ... magical, I guess. She was in my dream, and I was girl there, and I asked her to make it real, and then, well, here I am." "Wow ..." my sister breathed as my vomit of words came to an end. "That's, uh ... complicated, but I guess it's alright, as long as it's what you want." "It is," I confirmed, and, God, did it feel good to be able to say that, to finally admit to someone what I'd wanted for so long. "I take it you haven't told Mom and Dad, yet," Misha surmised. "Yeah ..." I admitted, looking down guiltily. That answer earned a chuckle and a smirk from my sister. "I figured there would've been a lot more screaming if you had." While I had similar expectations, hearing the older girl voice them got me to wince. "You think they're gonna be mad?" "All I know is that Mom is gonna lose her shit when she finds out," Misha told me. "How she'll lose it, I have no idea, but it's definitely getting lost. There's gonna be screaming and crying, and God knows what else." While not an outright assertion of rage, that prediction did nothing to assuage my worries. It had been hard enough to tell my sister about what was going on, and she was the calm, supportive member of the family. I didn't think I would be able to handle telling my parents. "Should I just keep hiding it then?" I asked. Misha screwed her face up uncertainly. "Uhm ... well, you might be able to do that for a bit, but Mom and Dad are gonna notice eventually. I mean, it's not, like, super obvious, but you do look and sound a little different." "Yeah ..." I conceded, knowing that she was right. Clearly, I had changed. I was happy about that, but I couldn't pretend to be sick forever. Eventually, it would come out. Frowning, my sister folded her arms and looked me over a couple of times. "It might be good to hide it for a bit, though; give us some time to think about the best way to break it to them." Lifting my head, I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, of course. There's no rush. I only told you, because I couldn't think of anything on my own." "Well, it is a tough problem," Misha mused. "Unfortunately, I don't really have any advice for you. I'm still sorta reeling from the whole, you turning into a girl thing. It's gonna take me some time to wrap my head around that." "Oh," I mumbled, suddenly finding myself even more worried. I'd thought my sister had accepted everything, accepted me, but now, I had my doubts. Maybe, she just hadn't figured out how she felt about it. Finding out one's sibling had switched genders had to be pretty hard to wrap one's head around. Certainly, I had been overwhelmed when I'd discovered my own changes. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need. In fact, I should probably get out of your hair, so you can get back to your friends and-" "Vali," Misha interjected. Stiffening, I tried to casually ask, "What?" but it sounded so forced and awkward in my ears. Stepping forward, my sister pulled me into a warm, reassuring hug. "Earlier, you said you wanted this. That wasn't a lie, right?" "Right," I confirmed, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Then I'm happy for you," Misha told me, her voice loving and sincere. "And don't worry too much about Mom and Dad. We'll figure things out with them." My vision started to blur as I lifted my arms to return the embrace. Clinging tightly to my sister, I breathed out, "Thank you." "It's really not that big a deal," my sister returned dismissively. "I mean ... I'm your big sister. I'm supposed to be there for you." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Damn ... only an A cup," I grumbled in annoyance as I let the tape measure fall from around my chest. I'd been hoping to at least warrant a B cup, but I wasn't too upset. After all, I'd only just gotten boobs that morning. Getting a whole cup size overnight was pretty good. "Plus, there's some really cute designs," I remarked, setting the tape measure on the desk to turn back to the monitor. On the screen was a store page full of lingerie, being shown off by prettier girls than me. That didn't bother me. I was just glad to be able to count myself as one of them, and to relish the idea of purchasing some of the products. My breasts might have been small, but they were big enough to warrant a bra. In fact, many of the cutest and most girly choices were designed for smaller girls like me. Bustier options were plainer or sexier. I certainly would have preferred to have more up top, but the choices available to my size were more appealing. I loved the idea of being cute. Clicking around, I got closer looks at some of the ones that had caught my eye. A few I dismissed. The rest I marked for later. At the moment, I couldn't buy any, but once I talked to my parents, I would be able to, and I wanted to already know what to get, so that I could buy it and get it shipped to me as soon as possible. "My very own bra," I muttered, lingering on one of the images. I could just imagine wearing it, feeling the delicate fabric against my skin. Unlike every other bra I'd ever tried on, it wouldn't have any need for socks or tissue. It would just be me contained within it's next snug confines. The very idea was so thrilling that it left me flush and giddy. Sighing, I leaned back in my chair, wrapping my arms around myself tightly. A smile curled my lips as I just relished the changes in my body. It really wasn't all that different, a few pounds lighter, contoured just a bit more smoothly, and with some different stuff between the legs. It sure felt so much better to have, though. "And it'll be even better once Misha and I talk to Mom," I remarked. I was in such a good mood, I was even optimistic about that coming conversation. After all, I had my sister on my side, now. While she hadn't come up with a way to explain everything properly, yet, I was sure that she would before long. There would probably still be some yelling, but once it was over, there'd be no more need for lies or hiding. I would be able to just be me. "It's like a dream come true," I whispered, the last three words echoing in my ears. I'd heard them the night before from Alaria, just before I'd woken. It made my thoughts drift back to wondering if the winged woman had been responsible for what had happened to me. That could be evidence or it could be nothing at all. "If she did do it, though, I hope I get a chance to thank her." Sitting up, I returned to browsing through clothes for the next little while. Before too long, a powerful yawn hit me with another coming fairly close at its heels. By the third, my eyes were starting to get blurry, so I gave up on shopping for the night. Rising from my seat, I walked over to my bed. A few moments later, I was stripped down for the night, snuggled under the covers, and trying to get my over-excited thoughts to settle down enough for some sleep. That wasn't an easy feat to accomplish, though, because, for once in my life, I was very eager to see what the next day would bring. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 16 There was a strange haze. I wasn't sure if it was a dream or something else entirely, but there was a definite sense of the passage of time. It was almost like I'd stayed awake all night, but I felt like I'd rested well. There was just a long, empty break between lying down in bed and my eyes opening to the morning light. A little confused, I spent my first couple of waking moments just blinking as I tried to get my thoughts together into some sort of pattern. That wasn't easy. My head was like a jumbled up jigsaw puzzle. Pieces bumped together, but often, they didn't fit, creating a chaotic whirl of failure. Eventually, though, some ideas started to lock with others, slowly recreating the consciousness that normally sprang alert promptly. The very first pieces to link up built toward a single emotion, worry. Then, they started to define it. I'd just woken from what could easily have been a very detailed and wonderful dream, a possibility that was absolutely and utterly terrifying. As soon as that realization dawned on me, one of my hands jerked right down to my crotch. There, it patted about frantically, checking for what lay inside my underwear. For one, heart racing moment, I thought I was going to find something terrible, something that I simply could not have lived with - not after what I'd been through - but, thankfully, I didn't. There was only a smooth front, and further down, a slight mound with an obvious indent in the middle. "Thank god," I breathed in profound relief at that discovery. It hadn't been a dream. I had really become a girl, and it seemed that change was going to last. No news could possibly be more welcome. Smiling with true delight, I immediately sat myself up, eager to get started on the day. I couldn't quite resist the urge to linger just a bit on my form, though, starting with a simple glance down. That was when my eyes bugged out in surprise. While I had become a girl, I hadn't become a particularly feminine looking one. Some baggy clothes had hidden almost all of the changes I'd gone through. Only by looking closely had I even been able to see hints of differences. At least, that was how it had been the day before. The sight that greeted me that morning was considerably more ... noticable. Specifically, my chest was. Where before there had been subtle shadows indicating shapes underneath my shirt, now my shirt was actually pushed out some at the chest. It wasn't by a massive amount, but enough to make it clear to anyone looking at me that I had a ... bust. Greater development wasn't the only very obvious difference either. The second came from looking at my hands and arms. Normally, my skin was fairly light and dusted with some hair that had been growing thicker and more prominent with every day. Now, my skin was completely smooth without a hair in sight as well as a little darker. It was almost like I'd spent a few days out in the sun to get a mild tan, even though that had never been possible for me. I'd always been the type to burn. "What the ...?" I muttered in disbelief, lifting my hands to check on the changes. Quite incredibly, my hands corroborated what my eyes were telling me. My boobs were substantially bigger, still a far cry from my sister's, but big enough to fill my hands fairly well. Then my hands shifted to rubbing my forearms, finding them shockingly soft and smooth just like I'd always assumed a girl's arm would feel. "Incredible," I breathed, overwhelmed by the difference. No, not just overwhelmed, pleased, delighted, thrilled. It wasn't as intense as the day before, that morning had been the first step on a journey, the first day of relief from a torment that had plagued me for so long. This morning was just another step, but it was such a welcome step. Being so similar, so boyish, had soured an otherwise amazing day. Now, that single fault had melted away, making this so much- Excitement lurched to a halt before it could fully take over my thoughts, slamming into a sudden panic. Throwing the blankets out of the way, I hopped out of bed and scurried over to my dresser, feeling new bounces and sways in my altered form. There was a mirror waiting there to reflect them back at me, too. "Oh no. This is bad. This is so bad!" I blurted as I stared at my reflection. The girl in the mirror was very obviously a girl. There was the smooth tan skin and fuller bust, sure, but there was so much more. She had a girl's face, a pretty one with a more delicate bone structure, smaller nose, and fuller lips than I'd ever had. Her hair looked longer than it did the day before as well as being darker than mine, not muddy, but almost black. Her eyes, a strange brownish green in color, had a distinct almond shape to them. Plus, there was absolutely no sign of the extra weight that had always plagued me anywhere on her face or figure. All told, she was very pretty, but completely and utterly impossible to mistake for me. "How am I ... ? What should I ...?" I panicked at how thoroughly the ability to hide had been taken from me. Desperate for something, anything, to cling onto my mind provided one possibility. "Misha." My sister's name leaving my lips served like the shot of a gun to a runner, breaking me from my reflection. Twisting, I took off toward the door, ripping it open before grinding to a halt. Full of fear, I peeked out to check the landing. Thankfully, it was clear of parents, allowing me to dart across the way to my sister's room, through the door, and slam it closed behind me. "Huh?" Misha mumbled drowsily from the bed, clearly woken up by the noise that I had just made. Propping herself up with one hand, she used the other to rub the sleep from her eyes. "What's going on?" "Nothing, I just ... need to talk to you, like, right now," I explained while keeping my ear cocked toward the door to make sure the noise hadn't drawn the attention of one of my parents. "'Kay, but it better ..." my sister started to say only drift off when she lowered her hands from her eyes. Then, she sat there in silence, staring at me with complete shock. Looking down at the ground, I wrapped my arms around myself. "Uhm ... sorry for waking you up." "Sure. No problem," Misha mumbled in a daze. Finally, though, she pulled herself together enough to squint at me. "That is you, right Vali?" The question was innocuous enough, but its indication of how unrecognizable I really was got me to wince before I nodded. "Yeah, it's me." "Wow ..." the older girl breathed, shaking her head. "What a difference." "I know," I groaned in frustration. "What am I gonna do? I can't hide this, and we don't have a plan, and Mom's gonna just flip when she sees me, and-" Recovering from her shock, Misha raised her hands to stop my blabbering. "Calm down, Vali! It's not that bad." My sister's confident demeanor went a long way to getting me to mellow out, at least enough to stop hyperventilating. I was still bad enough to leave me twitching a bit from nervous energy. "You think so?" The older girl nodded reassuringly. "Yeah, of course. I mean, yes, you're not hiding this, but it wasn't like you were gonna be able to put off talking to Mom and Dad forever. This just moves things up a bit." "But even yesterday you said they were gonna lose it when they saw. How d'ya think they're gonna react now?!" I argued, gesturing down at my much changed appearance. Misha smirked. "Well, that's the thing about losing your shit. There's not really anywhere to go from there. They're still just gonna lose their shit." Not at all mollified, I buried my head in my hands. "Ugh ... that's exactly what I'm afraid of, though!" "Aw, I know, but you gotta do it," my sister told me. "Yeah, it'll suck for a bit, but then it'll be over and done with." Letting my hands fall, I slouched despondently. "I might be over and done with, too." "Oh stop, it's not gonna be that bad. Things'll just get a little hysterical for bit," Misha countered. "And afterwards, there won't be any more need to hide anything. You'll be able to just do whatever you want." "I guess ..." I conceded reluctantly. The idea of getting all the lying and sneaking done with did sound nice. Plus, my mother might even let me order some of the clothes that I'd picked out. I'd have to check my new sizes before that, though. Everything could be good. I just needed to be brave. "You sure it'll work out?" "Absolutely," my sister promised. "Now, come on. Let's go find Mom, and tell her what happened." "Right now?!" I blurted. Misha nodded. "Yep. Better we find her than her coming to check and see how you're feeling today only to find you all ... girl." "Oh ... good point," I muttered, able to clearly see how much worse the latter of those situations would go. "Yep, so deep breath, chin up, and let's go," my sister directed before starting right off toward the door. I tried to follow the instructions, but I barely managed the deep breath. In the end, I found myself slinking along behind the older girl, hoping that I was effectively hidden by her greater size. While that was probably true, hiding wasn't going to work for long. Soon, the two of us were out of the room, then down the stairs, and finally, into the laundry room. Inside, my mother was in the midst of folding clothes, only to look up as Misha and I entered. The former got a quick smile from my mom. "Good morning," she greeted before she finally spotted me creeping in behind the older girl. Doing so tinged her smile with bemusement. "Oh, I not believe we met. I Misha's mother, Suzan." Having my own mother introduce herself to me had me blushing in embarrassment. Misha on the other hand, found it quite amusing, chuckling as she remarked, "Actually, you two have met before." "We have?! Dear! I so sorry for not remember!" our mother apologized, dipping her head contritely. "What your name again?" Again, my sister chuckled, but this time, she did so as she stepped back and to the side. This put her in perfect position to grab me by the shoulders and drag me from my hiding spot. A moment later, I was standing right next to her, face to face with our mother. "Come on, Vali. Tell her," Misha whispered in my ear. That was easier said than done, especially with my mother standing there looking at me all confused. In fact, just meeting her gaze was impossible. My eyes dropped to the ground as I rubbed at one of my arms briskly. "Uhm ..." I began terribly, unable to even get a proper word out. As I went, though, I got a little better with every syllable. "This is ... this is gonna be a little hard to believe, but, well ... It's, uhm, me, Vali." "Vali?" my mother repeated, the furrow in her brow deepening. She didn't wait for an answer from me, though, but turned to level an annoyed look at Misha. "I not know any friends of yours that have your brother's name." For the third time, my sister laughed, this time a barely stifled snicker. "That's because she's not one of my friends, Mom. She's my brother, Vali. Something happened to him, and well, you can see for yourself how it turned out." "Wha-?" my mother murmured in confusion, her gaze jerking back and forth between Misha and myself. "Is this joke? Because not funny, young lady." My sister shook her head. "It's not a joke, Mom. This is Vali." With such confirmation, my mother turned fully to me, staring hard. "Is true?" I managed to get my head to nod, and my lips to reply, "It's me, Mom." For a moment, the doubt held as my mother continued to just stare. I had no idea what finally broke the stalemate, but break it did with a shriek in Romanian of, "Oh Doamne!" *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 17 "How this happen?! Did someone do?! Is complete?!" my mother blasted out questions as her hands gripped my shoulders, shaking and twisting me about as if she were checking me for wounds. "Well, uh ... " I mumbled weakly from the midst of that hysteria. "He's all girl, Mom," Misha offered helpfully. "I checked." Nodding quickly, my mother stopped her shaking to look down thoughtfully. "What could cause this? Person? Villain? Illness?" "Uhm ... well, I-" I started to explain my limited understanding of what might have caused my change. My mother wasn't interested in hearing. "It not matter. We go hospital, now. They find way fix. Don't worry," she interrupted after a quick shake of her head. There was no waiting for a response after that. No, she just grabbed my wrist and started toward the door, intent on dragging me out to the car. In that moment, terror welled up within me, blasting apart my nervousness. "I don't want it fixed!" I blurted desperately, grinding my heels in, so I wouldn't be pulled along. "I like it like this!" My physical resistance didn't do much to stop the heavy woman's efforts to move me, but my words did. They ground her to a halt in her tracks. Then, slowly, she turned back around to face me, her eyes wide and unblinking. "You what?" my mother questioned. Cringing, I averted my gaze so I wouldn't have to see the look on my mother's face. "I, uh ... I d-don't want to change back. I want to be a girl." The grip on my wrist tightened painfully. "Did you do this?" came my mother's follow up question, her voice hard and full of accusation. "N-No, it's just, well, y-you, uhm ..." I stuttered, trying to get a coherent thought out but the words just wouldn't link up properly in my brain. My mother's grip got even tighter, making my skin burn and my wrist ache. A hiss of pain even slithered between my teeth as I tried to twist my arm to alleviate some of the pressure. There was nothing I could do short of breaking free, though, and that wasn't going to happen. My mother was much bigger and stronger than I was. Thankfully, I wasn't alone. "Stop it, Mom!" Misha demanded, interposing herself between me and the older woman. Her very presence was enough to push us apart, breaking my mother's grip in the process. "It doesn't matter if he did or not!" Unlike me, my sister was a pretty decent match for our mother. She even had an inch of height on her, granting the younger girl the slight edge of looking down in the glaring contest that followed those words. I, on the other hand, could do nothing but cower behind her, rubbing at my sore wrist. "It matter," my mother stated coldly and simply. "No, it doesn't!" my sister argued defiantly. "This is how she wants to be! We need to-" "Get out of way, Misha," our mother commanded sharply. My sister shook her head. "No." "Get out of way, Misha!" our mother suddenly blasted at the top of her lungs, face twisting with rage. Even my confident, older sister reeled back in the face of that outburst, yielding a step. However, there, she caught herself, features steeling with resolve. "No." In the wake of that resolution, there was silence. Mother and daughter glowered, looking ready, even spoiling for a fight. Each was just waiting for the other to make the first move. Any little thing probably could've set them off, but that thing never came. "Come on, Vali. I think we should go," Misha broke the silence. "You not take car," our mother snapped. "Fine, we won't," Misha agreed sharply, watching our mother warily as she stepped back to grab my shoulder and turn me around. "But-" I started to argue, resisting the guiding hands. "Not now," my sister interrupted me, putting a little more force into efforts That was enough to break what little conviction I had. I let myself be turned and guided away. My only hesitation came in the form of a glance over my shoulder at my mother, still so irate over the situation that she didn't even say a word as Misha and I left, at least, not until we were out of the laundry room. Then, I could hear her burst into a tirade in romanian that was full of rage. Hearing such anger, I almosted turned back. I almost stepped in front of my mother and recanted. I almost agreed to let her take me wherever she wanted to have whatever done, even if it meant going back. Only my sister's grip on me, so reassuring supportive and unyielding, kept me walking. "Don't worry," Misha spoke over the sound of our mother's rant. "She's just a little ... overwhelmed right now. I was too when you told me, remember?" "Yeah ..." I mumbled in agreement, although I certainly didn't agree. Yes, the older girl had been shocked, but her reaction had been nothing like my mother's. Unless, maybe she was saying that she had been angry too and just hidden it better. Could that be true? "We'll just let her calm down, and everything'll be fine," Misha continued reassuring me. "So, for right now, why don't you go upstairs and get ready. I'll call one of my friends to come give us a ride, and we'll go get some ice cream or something. Okay?" Lacking the wherewithal to argue, I nodded weakly. "Okay." *********************************************** *********************************************** "I still can't believe this is really your little brother," my sister's friend, Amit, remarked as she looked me over. "Yeah, she's way too cute to have ever been a boy," the other friend at the table, Shelia, added while also staring at me. With so much attention directed my way, I was hunched down in my seat with my gaze pointedly locked on the milk shake that had been bought for me. I didn't really drink much of it. Mostly, I just stirred it idly with the straw to have something to do to occupy my hands. "Oh, it's him alright," Misha assured her comrades. "Well, unless she's packing something extra in her undies, I think it's 'her' now," Shelia corrected. Chuckling, my sister glanced over at me. "Yeah, I guess so. Not that big of a deal really." "Are you kidding?" Amit questioned incredulously. "It's a huge deal!" "Yeah, you have no idea what I'd give to turn my bratty little brothers into girls," Shelia revealed. "Serve them right after all the stupid jokes and bra strap snaps I've had to suffer over the years." "Well, unlike those two, Vali's not hellspawn," Misha replied. "He was a perfectly fine little brother, and I'm sure - she - will be a perfectly fine little sister, too." "Maybe even a little too fine," Shelia remarked, adding a suggestive glance my way. "She's lookin' pretty good already, and she's just a middle schooler. Might be givin' her big sis a run for her money someday." While all three girls laughed at that comment, my cheeks lit up, and I scrunched even further down in my chair. Part of that was embarrassment, but part of it was a strangely bashful pride. Being called a pretty girl and knowing that it was actually true just felt so good. The idea that the fantasies I'd had of being as beautiful as my big sister were now actually possible felt so good. The very fact that I was sitting at that table of girls and could actually count myself as one of them felt so good, too. If not for the ever-present dread about my mother's reaction to my change, I might have died from an overdose of happiness. "She might," Misha acknowledged as she came down from her laughter. Leaning over, she slid an arm around my shoulder and smiled. "And if she does, I'll expect her to pass along lots of invites to parties and date nights. Maybe give me a cut of her modelling contracts." More giggles from the girls followed as my cheeks blazed all the brighter. I'd never even really considered what I might do if I was suddenly so beautiful. It had always been such an impossible dream that it had seemed pointless to spend time on it. Would I become a model? Would I go to all sorts of fancy parties? Would I hang on the arms of rich, successful men? Even with my changes, all of those things still felt too preposterous to be plausible. Maybe, that was just because I had wants that were far less grand. "Speaking of modelling," Amit segued once the girls were ready to continue. "Y'know what we should do? We should take her shopping." "Yeah, not like the clothes she's got work anymore," Shelia seconded the suggestion. I felt my heart leap into my throat at the idea. It was one thing to browse websites for cute clothes in the comfort of my room. It was something entirely different to go shopping with my sister and her popular friends. That was just too much. I wasn't ready for it ... yet. "True, but there's one problem," Misha resisted. "Clothes cost money, and we don't really have any." "So what?" Shelia dismissed the argument. "We can still dress her up and see how cute we can get 'er." "And if anything we find it just too cute to pass up, I'm sure we can chip in together to get her one outfit," Amit furthered. "Really?" Misha questioned, twisting her face with doubt. "You'd really help pay for my little sister's clothes." Amit shrugged. "If she's just super adorable, I wouldn't mind. I mean, it's not like we won't be having fun." At a loss, my sister turned toward me. "Well, what d'ya think? Wanna go shopping?" "Well ... uhm ... I, uh ..." I stammered ineffectually. "Come on! It'll be fun!" Shelia pressured. "Yeah, plus you've got a shot at some free clothes," Amit added. "Not to mention getting to hang out with three of the coolest girls around." Those arguments did nothing to assuage my unease, but I found myself nodding in agreement all the same. "Okay ... I guess." "Woo! Now we're talking!" Shelia whooped, shoving herself up from her seat. "Let's get to it, 'cause I'm sick of sittin' here smellin' all this food while I'm on a diet." *********************************************** *********************************************** There were tears on my face. I could feel their wetness sliding down my cheeks. I could see them glistening in the mirror in front of me. I could taste the salt from one hitting the corner of my mouth. There was no denying the fact that I was crying. The source of my tears could be clearly seen in my reflection. There, a pretty, dark-haired girl stood. She was mostly bare from the waist up, revealing a slim build and tiny waist that had none of the extra pudge I was so used to carrying. The only extra weight she had was in the only spot that was covered, her chest. It took the form of two, healthy looking mounds which were nestled into the cups of a bra - a bra they filled completely. "Need some help in there?!" my sister's voice called out from outside of the changing room. Snapped from the moment, I jerked a hand up to wipe at my eyes. "No! I've got it!" I tried to yell back, but I did so with a voice that was full of wet emotion, making it sound almost like a sob. My sister picked up on that tone instantly. "Let me in, Vali." "I'm fine! Really!" I insisted, but the tears weren't stopping and my voice hadn't improved. "Just let me in," Misha demanded with obvious exasperation. Sighing, I did as commanded, reaching over to unlatch the door and crack it open. The older girl immediately pushed it the rest of the way open. Then, she strolled right into the changing room, closed the door behind her, and then turned to look right at me. "I really am fine," I tried to say one more time. Misha raised an incredulous eyebrow at that claim. "Really? Then why are you crying?" "It's nothing," I mumbled, looking down and folding my arms. "You wouldn't be crying then," my sister pointed out. "So why don't we stop playing this game, and you tell me the truth?" By that point, it was very clear that I wasn't going to escape this conversation. That didn't make it any easier for me to admit what was going on. "It's just ... when I saw myself in the mirror ... like this ... I ..." That was as far as I got, trailing off into silence. Misha crinkled her brow. "I don't understand. I thought you said you wanted to be like this?" "I do!" I insisted with force and conviction. Neither lasted, though, as I quickly returned to huddling over shyly. "It's just ... you wouldn't believe how many times I've done this ... stood in front of a mirror in ... a bra, and it's just ... empty." As I said that last word, I tightened my arms, squeezing my breasts a little - an act that I'd never been able to do before. For a moment, my sister seemed taken aback by that admission. Then, a smirk curled her lips. "Y'know, I actually went through something similar when I was younger. There was this girl at school who started growing way before the rest of us. She was already, like, a B cup by the time I got a trainer bra. I used to be so jealous, always measuring myself and trying on bras that were obviously too big for me in the hopes that I'd just miraculously grow to fit them." "Really?" I questioned in surprise, not remembering anything like that. That said, it wasn't like Misha would've talked to me about that kind of thing. I was just a little boy at the time. My sister nodded. "Yep, and you would not believe how happy I was when I finally outgrew her. Maybe not tears of joy happy, but pretty fuckin' thrilled." That remark pulled a laugh out of me. No, it was a giggle, given the high, tinkling quality my voice lent it. I'd actually giggled, and I didn't feel embarrassed by it. That sort of thing was okay, now. I was okay, now. "Now, how about you clean yourself up, then come on out," Misha suggested. "The girls are just dying to see how you look." Smiling, I nodded readily. "'Kay, just give me a second." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 18 The lurch of the car stopping rippled through my body, shaking my confidence to the core. Through the window, I could see where the vehicle had stopped, right out front of my family's home. Just the sight of it made my whole body tense up and my heart start to thump loudly and rapidly in my chest. In a few moments, I was going to enter that house, but I didn't want to. The memory of how things had gone the last time was enough to make me wish I never had to return there again. It would be so much better if I could just stay out with my sister and her friends forever or live at one of their houses or even just runaway. Anything to not have to face my parents again. "Alright, thanks for the ride," Misha told her friend as she unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door and stepped out. "You sure about this?" Amit, the friend that had driven us home, asked. "Oh, yeah, it'll be fine," my sister answered with a confident smile before turning to me. "Come on, Vali! Out ya go!" Nodding, I reached down to the buckle, my hand shaking the entire way. That made it take a bit of fumbling, but eventually, I got the seatbelt unlatched. The door opened as well, and somehow, my feet managed to obey my mind's commands to slide out and support me as I got up. Then, I was standing outside, arms folded tightly around myself as my head pounded with my pulse. "I'll let you know how things go," Misha told her friend. "Thanks. See ya," Amit replied. Then, there was the thud of the car door closing. So focused was I on what was about to happen, that I actually jumped in fright at the sound, somehow mistaking it for something that could hurt me. When I realized how stupid such a reaction was, my face started to burn as I looked down at my feet. A moment later, my sister's arm slid around my shoulders, giving me a comforting squeeze. "Don't be so nervous. Mom's had plenty of time to get all that worrying out of her system and calm down." "I guess ..." I allowed, still incredibly anxious, maybe even outright afraid. Misha showed no such trepidation, however. Once she released me, she marched right up to the door, only pausing long enough to glance over her shoulder and make sure I was following her. I did, albeit very tentatively. Her shadow was the only place I felt even a little safe. Anywhere else, I was sure that my parents would see me, leap out, and go berserk. At the door, my sister did pause just long enough to fish out her key and unlock the way. After that, she resumed her determined stride for a few more steps. Then, without any warning, she came to an abrupt halt. Confused, I looked up to see the other girl's face tighten as she looked into the living room. Following that gaze, I found the cause for the halt. Our father stood there, with a dark, stormy scowl shadowing his face. "That Vali?" my father rumbled out the question as he moved around the couch to stand in front of his daughter. That hard look on my father's face and the powerful, deliberate way he moved terrified me. I wanted to just turn right around and run out of the house. Maybe Amit hadn't driven away yet or hadn't gotten far. I could get Misha to call her, then she'd come back, and we could all drive off somewhere far far away. As afraid as I was, my sister remained stalwart, holding her spot between my father and me. The barrier that created was enough protection to get me to stay in my place, but not enough to get me to respond. In fact, the best I could manage was to cower. "Yes, she is," Misha answered, putting a slight emphasis on the female pronoun. Our father's head dipped in a very brief nod as he looked past his daughter to glare at me. I couldn't even meet that gaze. I could barely stand having it upon me. It was just so hot, so powerful, so hard, almost like a beam of energy trying to blast me away. "Go to your room, Misha," my father order calmly. "No. I'm staying here w-" my sister started to argue. The man's calm facade snapped as a great roar burst out of him. "Now!" As that sound buffeted me, I twisted away as if I could shield myself from its fury. In front of me, I could even see my sister's frame rattle about, clearly disconcerted by the outburst. Just that was enough for what little resolve I had to start to crumble and fade away. On the other hand, Misha rallied, straightening up defiantly. "No! I'm staying here with Vali!" Crack! It came without warning like a great thunderbolt smiting the ground. Thud! That was the noise that followed as my sister hit the wall. The combination was so startling and unexpected that I involuntarily looked up only for my jaw to immediately drop. The resolute pillar of defiance that had been Misha lay crumpled against the wall. She was doubled over with her hands clutched to her face while pained whimpers leaked from her lips. Beyond her, on the path that now lay open, stood my father, one arm across his body and his eyes ablaze. The former quickly returned to his side while the later shifted away from his disobedient daughter and toward me. For one panicked moment, I was frozen, the proverbial deer in headlights. There were no plans formulating, no outcries building, no thoughts of any sort within my head. All I felt was a profound terror. Then, my father stepped forward, moving past the toppled Misha. That one step was all that I could bear. It broke me, not just from my paralysis, but my entire capacity for rational thought. Instinct welled up to fill the void, forcing me to react to an unfathomable situation. I ran. There was no grace or form to the act. I just spun around and burst into motion, feet scrabbling along the floor in a desperate effort to give me as much speed as quickly as I could possibly gain it. Spinning around, I nearly ran face first into the door. Fortunately, my hands got up just in time to catch myself, easing the collision. Then, they fell to the handle, fumbling with the latch before finally getting it to work. Ripping the way open, I dashed out onto the porch, gathering myself to leap out onto the yard and take off down the street. Just as I was about to jump, though, a hand caught my wrist. Instantly, my heart shot up into my throat and a shocked gasp hissed through my teeth. I tried to tug free, to make good on my escape, but it was impossible. The hand that held me was like a vise, clamping down on my wrist so tightly and immovably that it felt like my arm would pop off before I could move so much as an inch further. "Get back here," my father's voice growled from behind me even as he jerked on my arm. I might as well have weighed nothing for all the ability I had to resist. In spite of my struggles, I practically flew into my father's arms, crashing against his chest. Then, his arms clamped down, locking me in place. "Let go!" I screamed shrilly, twisting and jerking about to try to break free. I had even less hope of that than I did at overcoming the hand from earlier, though. That didn't stop me from trying. Nothing could stop the terror that only grew darker and more twisted with every moment. I had to fight free. I couldn't let him take me. The only question was how, and I was too panicked to think of any answers. All I could do was thrash about, kicking and twisting and even trying to smack my head against my father's face. Through it all, I screamed and screamed, desperate for escape, for help, for anything. Crack! Snap! Pop! A series of sounds like a shorted circuit filled the air. The next thing I knew, the grip on me was gone, and I was falling. I wanted to catch myself, to get my feet and hands under me at least, but all the fighting had left me so turned about that I couldn't even figure out which was up and which was down. As such, I expected to crash down painfully on the porch, but that didn't happen either. Gentle hands snatched me from the air, cradling me in a tender embrace. Shocked, I looked up at the with complete disbelief. When I saw my savior, that disbelief only grew. The beautiful face, verdant hair, and violet eyes were as unmistakable as they were enrapturing. Looking up at them, I couldn't speak, couldn't even begin to formulate words, couldn't even realized that I should. I just stared, wide-eyed and thoroughly bewildered. "Are you alright?" the woman, Alaria, asked as a smile of unfathomable warmth and compassion brightened her face. Was I alright? It was such a simple yet completely overwhelming question. Everything had been so utterly, unbelievably, cruelly awful. Now, though, nestled against my savior, I felt so safe, so cared for, so ... The low rumble of a groan, sore and very angry cut through my thoughts. Even in the comforting embrace, I twitched as fear rushed back into me. For a moment, I'd stupidly forgotten about my father, forgotten that I needed to run away, to get far away, to- "If you don't stay down, I'm going to do a lot worse than just shock you," the winged woman threatened, turning to glare down at the fallen man. "Fuck you," my father spat, shoving himself back to his feet. "This not your concern. He my son, and I punish him as I please." Terrified, I recoiled from the man as far as I could in Alaria's arms, but that wasn't far. I wasn't allowed to remain in the protective cocoon for long anyway. In response to my father's outburst, the woman turned, and gentle set me on the ground, keeping her hands on my shoulder to help steady me. "Go to that house over there. I'll be right there to let you inside," Alaria directed softly, pointing toward the home I had seen her at a few times. Once that was done, she released me and turned to face down my furious father. "I don't care who you are to one another. I'm not letting you near her." All of those words washed over me, heard but not absorbed. I was too terrified to move, too terrified to think. All I could do was stand there and look at my father, expecting him to lash out at me at any moment. As if to prove that fear well-founded, the man leaned to the side to look past the winged woman and sternly order, "Vali, come inside, now." I wanted to shake my head, but my head wouldn't move. I wanted to say no, but my mouth wouldn't move. I wanted to run away, but my feet wouldn't move. Instead, I stood there, locked in the man's gaze. Suddenly, Alaria blocked my view, offering that warm, compassionate smile to me again. "Just go to the house I pointed to, Vali. Everything will be fine there. I'll come soon, and we'll talk and have snacks and watch a movie or whatever else you want to do. Okay?" "You think I won't-" my father started to argue. "Ignore him, Vali. He's not a threat anymore. All I'd have to do is snap my fingers and he'll go down again," the winged woman interrupted, her lilting voice so soft and soothing that it was impossible to cling to my fear or worry through its melody. "Just go to the house and wait for me." Slowly, I nodded. As minor as it was, that motion was like the first few pebbles of an avalanche. The rest of me started to break free from my stupor. My mind realized a plan. My feet moved to make it so. Soon, I'd turned around to hurry across the street. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 19 Rubbing my hands together nervously, I glanced around the room. It seemed like a pretty normal living space, a couch, a coffee table, and a TV. That wasn't what made me anxious, though, nor was the home's occupants. No, I huddled down on the couch afraid of what lay outside the house. I was certain that my father would come for me. "Here," a dulcet voice offered. Looking up from my thoughts, I found Alaria standing next to me with a comforting smile on her face and a glass of what looked to be ice water in one extended hand. "Oh ... uhm ... thank you," I mumbled, reaching out to take the drink. I brought it straight to my lips for a polite sip before lowering it to my lap, cradled in my hands. My eyes followed with it, watching the water bob and sway from the movement, slowly settling into placidity. "You're welcome," the winged woman replied, followed by the sounds of her walking over to take one of the other seats. Then, there was silence, a peculiar one at that. It was at once both uncomfortable and reassuring at the same time. Quiet meant no danger had arrived. Alaria's presence meant that even if it did, I would have a protector. Only the awkwardness I felt soured the situation, an awkwardness born of out of shyness. There was so much that I wanted to say, to thank Alaria for, but the very idea of trying to start a conversation with the regal woman was just too daunting. I couldn't get any words to come out. "So ... you look ... different from the last time I saw you," Alaria broke the silence after a handful of seconds. Fiddling with my glass, I shifted my gaze from it to my clearly female body, smiling softly as I did. "Y-Yeah, uh ... I guess I do." "Is that why your dad was so mad?" the winged woman inquired, her voice full of concern. The reminder of my father's fury cut through me like a knife. It was hard to even breathe, much less try to formulate some sort of response. The best I could manage was a weak, shallow nod. "I could try to change you back," Alaria offered, clearly trying to help. "No!" I blurted instinctively, jerking my gaze up to the winged woman. I couldn't go back to the way things were, not now, not after finally having had the chance to be ... right. Then, it dawned on me how fervently I'd reacted and over what exactly I'd been reacting. Suddenly embarrassed, I jerked my head back down to stare at the water. "I mean ... uhm ... I-I'd rather stay ... like this." "Alright," the winged woman told me. There was no way that I could've expressed how relieved that single word made me. Nothing could've been worse than having to go back to how I was, like waking up from some beautiful dream. Still, I tried anyway, breathing out a grateful, "Thank you." "You don't need to thank me," Alaria replied graciously. "Yes, I do!" I insisted, lifting my head. "You don't know what it meant to me to wake up like this, to finally be ... " I was too bashful to say the whole sentence, letting my gaze fall again. "I could never thank you enough." The winged woman took a moment before she finally responded with a simple, "You're welcome." A warmth blossomed within me at those words, putting a smile on my face. As horrible as the day had gone, I was so glad that I'd been able to thank the person who had helped me so much. If not for her, I would've been trapped as a boy my whole life, always wishing for but never getting to know the joy of being female. Another moment passed in silence, but that was as long as it lasted. The sound of footsteps, oddly light and rapid, broke the quiet. Lifting my gaze, I twisted to look toward the sound just in time to watch a little, brown-haired girl of about seven or eight years of age bound down the steps. The little girl noticed me at about the same time, cocking her head to one side as she peered at me curiously. "Hey, Linds. This is Vali, she lives across the street from us," Alaria introduced the girl, who seemed far too ordinary to possibly be related to the surreal beauty. "Vali, this is my little sister, Lindsey." "Hi!" Lindsey chirped brightly before turning toward her sister. "I thought you said the superhero was a boy?" My heart leapt into my throat at the mention of being a boy, but the worry immediately turned into confusion. Why would this little girl think I was a superhero? How would she even know that I was going to be over here? Alaria had only just helped me a few minutes ago, and I hadn't seen this Lindsey girl around anywhere. "Huh? Oh!" Alaria blurted, only momentarily confused. "The superhero is a boy, but she's not him." "Oh ..." the little girl mumbled in disappointment. "It woulda been cool to have a superhero living right across from us." A maternal smile curled the winged woman's lips at that remark. "Yeah, it would've been." Frowning, Lindsey glanced about, but she didn't seem to find whatever she was looking for. Instead, she ended up asking, "Well, if she's not the superhero, when's he getting here?" As if called into being by that question, I heard the bing of a doorbell fill the house. It ran right through my spine, putting goosebumps on my flesh and twitching my muscles. Worried, I twisted about to look toward the entryway. What if it was my father? Alaria would probably protect me, but what if she didn't? What if something happened to her family when she did? "That might be him right there," Alaria remarked without any sign of concern. "Why don't you go check?" Aghast, I spun back around, intent on denouncing such a plan, but I was too late. The little girl had already chirped out a quick, "Kay!" in response and taken off toward the door. I was left to just look on in stunned silence until, a second later, I heard the sound of the front door swinging open, then a squeal that terrified me even more. Almost as if she was mocking my fear, Alaria laughed lightly while rising from her seat. "I shouldn't be too long," she offered casually, slipping by me to join her little sister at the door. From my seat, I followed the winged woman's movements as she rounded the corner and came into view of the door. I expected to hear screams or rage-filled outbursts or the clash of a fight, something terrible. None of my fears came to fruition, though. Instead, I heard a little girl blurt out, "Hi! I'm Lindsey! Can you fly?" "Why, yes I can," a male voice that was very clearly not my father's answered. Relief washed over at that little exchange, clearing away the tension of the moment. Slumping into my seat, I lolled my head back against the cushions. Then, I spent the next few seconds just taking long, deep breaths and thanking anyone that would listen for not letting my father be at the door. Time and breathing helped to slow my heart rate and ease stress, but it could not fully negate my worries. My father might not have been at the door, trying to reclaim me, but that just meant he was probably still back home. What was I going to do about that? Clearly, being away for a few hours wasn't enough to calm my parents down. My father listened to my mother. If she had been okay with what had happened to me, there was no way that he would've been that angry. He might not have been happy with it, but hitting Misha and grabbing me? Not without my mother on his side. Turning to the window, I looked out, trying to figure out some solution. Should I have just accepted Alaria's offer to change me back? Maybe if I went out and begged, she'd still do it. It was tempting, but only as long as I didn't think about what it would mean for the rest of my life. Wrapping my arms tightly around my slim female form, I couldn't imagine ever accepting going back to the pudgy boy I'd been. The way I was now felt so much better, so much more right. My only truly held hopes were of becoming more girly not less. "Misha would probably know what to do," I muttered, shaking my head in frustration. My sister was so much more capable and confident than I was. She couldn't help me at the moment, though. I didn't even know if she was okay. Our father had hit her pretty hard. Without me there to vent his fury on, he might have turned it on her. That idea set my stomach to twisting itself into knots. "Who's Misha?" a childish voice inquired from the side. Looking up from my thoughts, I turned to find Alaria's little sister standing only a few feet away. Head cocked to the side, she stood there with the bright cheerfulness of innocent youth beaming all over her face. Unlike me, she probably didn't have a care in the world. It must've been nice. "She's my big sister," I answered glumly. "You have a big sister, too?!" Lindsey exclaimed excitedly. "Is she fun? Pretty? Nice? Do you do stuff together?" "Uhm ..." I mumbled, taken aback by the flood of questions. "I guess?" Such a vague answer earned a frown from the little girl. "You guess what?" "All of it?" I explained. "She can be fun, definitely pretty, super nice. She's really protective and supportive, too, not to mention popular and confident and ... she's great." While I'd given a more proper answer this time, Lindsey didn't seem to approve, her frown darkening as she crossed her arms forcefully. "Not as great as Ally!" "Ally?" I repeated the unfamiliar name before it clicked. "Oh, you mean Alaria." "Yeah. She's the best big sister ever," the little girl stated definitively. While that was a hard claim to argue with, given how stunning and gifted the winged woman appeared to be, I wasn't going to just concede when my sister's honor was on the line. "I don't know about that. My sister's pretty awesome." "Well, mine's super awesome!" Lindsey argued. "Yeah, well, mine's super duper awesome," I countered. "Mines super super super times infinity duper awesome!" the little girl retorted. Laughing lightly, I gave up on the childish argument. "You do have an amazing sister." "Mmhmm," Lindsey hummed proudly before adding in a more noncommittal mumbler, "Yours sounds pretty cool, too." "She is," I confirmed, smiling softly. After that, there was a moment of silence, but it was very brief. With typical childish impatience, the little girl almost immediately broke by asking, "Wanna play a game?" Glad for any distraction at the moment, I nodded. "That sounds great." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 20 "Ouch, that hurt," I remarked as I resolved the effects of Lindsey's last action. In response, the little girl grinned wickedly, rubbing her hands together like some maniacal witch. "I'm gonna getcha!" "You think so, huh?" I questioned rhetorically, scooping up the dice for the game. "Well, wait until you see me do ..." I stalled, shaking the dice rapidly in my hand before finally chucking them out with a loud, "This!" The dice clattered as they rolled along the table, but I never saw where they finally came to rest. The cause of the interruption came from Alaria's beautiful voice simply saying, "Vali." Twisting about in my seat, I looked back to see the winged woman at the entrance to the room. "Yeah?" "Captain Quantum would like to talk to you," Alaria informed me. "Oh ..." I mumbled as a sudden nervousness rushed into me. "Her?!" Lindsey whined over me. "When's he gonna talk to me?! He promised to show me what he could do!" Smiling, Alaria walked over sit next to her sister on the couch. "Don't worry, he's just saving the best for last." "He is?" the little girl questioned. The older woman nodded. "Yep. He doesn't want there to be anything to distract him from you." "Well, I guess that's alright then," Lindsey conceded reluctantly, slouching down in her seat. "And since we wouldn't want you to get bored while you wait ..." Alaria began as she lifted her gaze back up to me. "I'll take over Vali's spot in the game." "You will? 'Cause I'm kinda kicking her butt," the little girl pointed out. Keeping her eyes on me, the winged woman shrugged. "That's alright. Things can always turn around." Those words, so clearly meant for me, helped ease my panicking heart and steady my frazzled nerves. I even managed a brave smile as I pushed myself up from my seat. "Well, if you're gonna take over for me, then I shouldn't keep him waiting." "Probably not," Alaria replied, returning my smile with one of her own that was so incredibly warm and reassuring that it was impossible for me to cling to my worries. Bolstered by that show of support, I started off, making my way to the kitchen. There, seated at the table with his attention on a small notebook in front of him, was a tall, handsome man in a spandex costume. Obviously, I recognized him as a hero named Captain Quantum. There weren't many people in New York that wouldn't do the same. After all, he was practically a legend, especially after his recent defeat of a wicked villainess by the name of Contagion. "Y-You wanted to speak to me?" I stuttered nervously as I silently wished that I could've stayed in the living room. Alaria's efforts to reassure me aside, talking to someone so famous and amazing was just too much to handle calmly. Looking up from his notes, Captain Quantum smiled at me. "Ah, yes, have a seat." Shyly, I slunk over to the table and slipped into one of the chairs. There, I hunkered down, folding my arms protectively and keeping my gaze firmly on the wood expanse before me. Even then, it was all I could do to keep from fidgeting. "While Alaria and I were talking, she mentioned some involvement with you, and I just want to check her story," the superhero told me. "Is that alright?" Stiffly, I gave a couple of quick nods as my only response. There was a brief pause before Captain Quantum continued. "Alright ... let's start from the beginning. Tell me your name." "V-Valeriu Gajic," I stammered out. "You go by Vali, though?" the hero inquired. I just nodded. "Okay," Captain Quantum acknowledged, followed by the feint scratch of him writing on his notepad. "Now then, you used to be a boy, but because of Alaria, are now female. Correct?" Again, I just nodded. "This was at your request, correct?" came the next question. I offered another nod. "Do you want to change back?" the superhero asked. This time, I shook my head. A pause followed as Captain Quantum took a deep breath, one that sounded vaguely frustrated. His next words only furthered that impression. "I know this is difficult, but I really need you to actually speak your answers. This is a very serious matter, and I don't want there to be any confusion." It was a perfectly reasonable request, but I found it very difficult to comply with it. My throat felt so tight that it was like it had been clamped closed. My tongue felt huge and numb. My mouth was dry and scratchy. Still, I tried my best, managing a pathetic murmur of, "I w- want ... to be like this." "But your father doesn't feel the same way," the man surmised. "Which is what led to the altercation that Alaria involved herself in, correct?" "Yes," I admitted. "Were you hurt?" Captain Quantum asked. Words proved too hard there, so I just shook my head. This time, the superhero let me get away with that, "But you did feel endangered?" "Yes," I managed to whisper. "I see ..." Captain Quantum mumbled before moving right along. "Do you have any evidence?" "Evidence?" I questioned, looking up for the first time since I sat down. The superhero nodded. "Yeah, normally, we would site injury in a situation like this as proof, but apparently, Alaria intervened quickly enough to prevent that. That leaves us with just your word and hers to go off of. That's enough to excuse the intervention and use of force to protect you, but it likely wouldn't be sufficient to justify getting child protective services involved." "Child services?" I repeated the words in stunned disbelief. They only got involved when children were abused or raped or something. My situation wasn't anything like that. My parents wouldn't ... My parents loved ... "Yes, their involvement is basically the only way we could remove you from your parent's custody," Captain Quantum clarified. "We'll need hard evidence of a serious threat or a pattern of abuse, though, so I need to know if you can give me either." Clearly, the hero had misread my worry for confusion, but I was relieved that he had. I didn't want to be taken away. I just wanted to be able to be part of my family as myself, rather than as someone I'd never wanted to be. There had to be a way to make that a reality. "No," I answered, not bothering to reveal that my sister had also witnessed the incident and gotten slapped for protecting me. Information like that would only make it harder for me to work things out. With a resigned expression on his face, Captain Quantum nodded. "Okay, well then, unfortunately, there isn't going to be much I can do to help you. The best I can do is say that I'll get in touch with the police. That way, if your parents try to have them locate you and return you home, they'll look the other way. It'll only be for a few days, though. You'll have to return home after that." "Thank you," I mumbled, content with that resolution. It would allow me to return home, but didn't force me to do so right away. Short of my parents miraculously changing their minds all of a sudden, that was about the best that I could hope for at the moment. "You're welcome, and also sorry," the superhero replied. "I wish there was more that I could do." "It's alright," I told him, actually glad that he couldn't do more. Nodding, Captain Quantum let out a heavy sigh. "Anyway ... that's all I had for you. Mind going to get Alaria's little sister for me?" "Oh ... sure," I mumbled, rising from my seat. Quickly, I scurried out of the kitchen, relieved to be away from the stressful situation. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Oh, by the way, you can have my room for tonight," Alaria offered. "Your room?" I questioned in surprise. The winged woman nodded. "Yeah, if you want. I sorta just assumed you didn't want to go home after what happened with your dad, and my mom said it was okay." "Oh, uhm ... yeah, I appreciate that, but I'm fine with sleeping right here on the couch," I replied, patting the cushion of the couch beneath me. Alaria just waved off that argument. "Don't worry about it. I don't need the bed." "But-" I began to protest. "No, I mean that literally," the winged woman interjected before I got far. "I don't sleep here anymore; don't really sleep at all actually." Surprised by that response, I spent a moment just blinking in confusion. "You don't sleep?" A smile curled Alaria's lips, but it was unlike any smile I'd ever seen on her face. It was so pale and weak that it endowed no sense of warmth or happiness. Instead, there was just a wistful sadness to it that was enough to make me feel a sense of longing, although for what, I couldn't say. "That's right. I don't sleep. I actually don't stay here at all. I have my own world to return to," the winged woman told me. Those words held the same melancholy as her smile, but that lament faded away quickly to reassuring warmth as she added, "But don't worry. I'll have some of my subjects watch the house, so I can swoop right back here if needed." "I-" I began only to have the sound of the doorbell ring out over my words. That pulled my attention toward the door, worry building as I leaked out the rest of my statement. "... see." "I'll be right back," Alaria told me. Rising from her seat, she walked by, turning the corner to check the door. Meanwhile, I sat there on the couch, wondering if this time, my fears would be proven correct. Had my father finally decided enough was enough and come to drag me home? If so, was there anything I could do to work things out? Poking her head back around the bend, Alaria asked, "Do you know a girl named, Misha? Pretty. Brown hair." "Uhm ..." I mumbled as I looked up from my thoughts. "... yeah. My sister. Why?" "Wanna talk to her?" the green-haired woman asked. "Of course. Why? Is she here?" I asked, feeling a surge of hope building within me. Rather than answer, the winged woman made a gesture that I couldn't see. It was followed by the sound of footsteps, and a moment later, by my sister stepping into view with a smile on her face. That smile sat at odds with the ugly black eye that marred her pretty features. "Hey," the older girl greeted, offering me a quick wave. "Misha!" I gasped, bursting up from my seat to rush over to my sister. When I got there, I crashed in, throwing my arms around her and holding on tight. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 21 "Well, I think I'll leave you two alone," I heard Alaria's voice remark, but I didn't pay it any mind. My focus was fully on the person within my arms, my big sister. I was so glad to see her, so glad to feel the comforting support of her embrace. She understood me. She accepted me. Plus, now that she was there, I just knew some progress would be made. We'd figure out a plan to get our parents to come around, and then, finally, I would get to live the life that, up until a few days ago, I had only been able to dream about. "I'm so glad you're here," I whispered, tightening my grip on the older girl. "Me too," Misha replied, giving me a pat on the back. "I'm also glad to see you're alright. I was really worried for a minute there when Dad got by me. I'm sorry about that." "And I'm sorry you got hurt because of me," I answered as my eyes started to burn with budding tears. My sister laughed off my concern. "Don't worry about it. It looks way worse than it really is, and I'll be able to cover it with makeup until it clears up. I was just too busy worrying about you to bother before I snuck out." "You snuck out? Won't Mom and Dad-?" I began, anxiety flooding into me. Before I could even complete my questions, Misha was already shushing me. "Shh, it's alright. I'm not gonna get caught, and even if I did, it would be worth it. There's no way I'd have gotten any sleep if I didn't check on you." That confidence wasn't enough to completely erase my fears, however. Stepping back, I broke the hug and looked down at the ground. "How ... how mad are they?" "Pretty mad," the older girl admitted before quickly adding, "but mostly at that winged lady that zapped Dad. They don't think she should've had any right to get involved. Fortunately, some total stud in a delicious spandex number stopped by to tell then off about the legalities, so they've cooled off a bit. I think if I work on them for a bit tomorrow, I can get 'em to see reason." "You really think so?" I asked, leaning back doubtfully. Smiling confidently, Misha nodded. "Oh yeah. Mom's already starting to settle down, and Dad's only riled up because of her. I just need some time to work on 'em." The confidence ebbed from her face after that statement, however, turning to concern as she looked at me. "Are you gonna be alright, though?" "Yeah, of course ..." I answered, trying and failing to mimic my sister's certainty. There wasn't even a good reason for it, but I just felt so unsure of everything at that moment. "Alaria says I can stay the night, and maybe even longer than that ... if I have to." "Really? I have a lot to thank her for before I go, then," my sister remarked. While I should've expected it, mention of the fact that my sister would have to leave had me looking down despondently. I wanted her to stay, just to give me someone to talk to if nothing else, but that was selfish. If she stayed, our parents would undoubtedly notice that she'd snuck out, which would only make them more angry. In turn, that would make it harder for her to change their minds about what had happened to me. There were no arguments to be made. "Yeah ... she's been great ..." I mumbled, trying to push away the thoughts that plagued me. "Has she?" Misha questioned with obvious concern. "You don't sound like someone who's been treated great." Jerking my gaze up, I forced a smile onto my face. "She has been. I'm just ... worried about Mom and Dad." "Well, don't be. I'll take care of them," my sister promised. "There is someone that only you can take care of, though." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Who?" "Jordan," Misha answered. "He came by not long after your winged savior brought you here." "He did?" I questioned in surprise. Smirking, the older girl nodded. "Yeah, I guess he got worried, because he still thinks you're just 'sick' and you weren't answering any of his texts." "Oh ... " I mumbled, having completely forgotten about the lie I'd told my friend the day before. "What did you tell him?" "That you were still recovering and sound asleep," Misha informed me. "I figured it would be best if you told him the truth yourself, especially since you'd be there as proof that it wasn't just some prank." A whole new wave of anxiety rushed through me at the idea of having to tell Jordan the truth. Would he be great about it like my sister had been? Would he be furious like my parents? Either way, it would still be a difficult and nerve-wracking experience to go through, but that was exactly what I had to do. It was either that or hide from my best friend indefinitely. "Well ... I guess I don't have anything else to do tomorrow ..." I commented reluctantly. Those words had Misha's lips curling up in a proud grin. "Atta girl." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Well, here it is," Alaria declared as she gestured at the room around her. "Nothing particularly special, but hopefully it won't be too bad." "I'm sure it'll be fine," I replied, feeling a little self-conscious. "Are you sure you want me staying in your room, though? I really don't mind sleeping on the couch downstairs." "Well, I mind that," the winged woman retorted, one corner of her lips curled up in a smirk. "I didn't go through the trouble of helping you just so that you'd have to spend a night tossing and turning on a crappy couch. A good night's rest will do wonders for your mood." Looking down at the ground, I mumbled, "I think it's gonna take a little more than that ..." "Maybe," Alaria conceded. "But it's a first step, and you'll never get anywhere without one of those." The simplistic obviousness of that comment earned a chuckle from me. "I guess not." "Now, is there anything you need, extra blankets, pillows, et cetera?" the winged woman inquired. Lifting my gaze, I smiled and shook my head. "No, I'm fine." "Alright, well if you change your mind or want to talk or anything, just go out onto the porch downstairs and I'll come right away," Alaria told me as she turned to go, only to briefly pause to add, "Oh, and bathroom's at the end of the hall." Unsure of myself, I just nodded at that, letting the woman start to walk away again, before I finally managed to get out, "Thank you." Stopping halfway out the door, the dream queen turned back to offer me one of her brilliantly warm smiles. "G'night," she chirped simply, and then she was gone through the door, closing it behind her. All alone, I let out a despondent, little sigh as I glanced around the room. It was a pretty bland looking place, sparsely decorated by only a few pieces of furniture. The only item that gave any indication to the personality of the inhabitant was a small bookshelf loaded down with far too many books on it. "I guess she likes to read, too," I mused as my eyes wander over the limited library. Browsing through, I noticed that most of the books seemed to be fantasy or science fiction which seemed at once appropriate and a bit odd. If her appearance was anything to go by, Alaria was clearly from a rather fantastical world. She certainly had magic. I was proof of that. I wouldn't have thought the shallow works of some human author would've held much appeal to someone who lived such a life. "Maybe she just likes laughing at how bad it all is?" With no way of knowing what the truth might be, I shrugged and returned the books I'd picked up to their proper spots. Turning away from the bookcase, I walked over to plop down on the bed and take another look around. Nothing stuck out to draw my attention or offer a distraction from my predicament. As such, a heavy cloak of melancholy fell onto my shoulders. "Why couldn't I just be happy as I was?" I asked myself, looking down at my female body. It was almost impossible to put into words how thrilled I was to have that form, but I would've been even more thrilled to have never wanted to change to begin with. If I'd just been able to accept being a boy, everything would've been fine. My parents wouldn't have flipped out. I wouldn't be sleeping in some stranger's house. I wouldn't have to face my best friend as a girl, and fear how he was going to react. Jordan. That was where my thoughts caught. I'd told my sister that I would go explain things to him. Stupidly, I'd even set the very next day as the time to do it. With Misha handling our parents, it had just seemed like the thing to do, but now, I felt totally incapable of following through. "He'll be okay with it," I tried to assure myself, even as I hugged myself with my arms. After all, I knew that was just wishful thinking. My own parents hadn't been okay with it, people who had loved me and cared for me my entire life. Jordan and I had known each other for only one year. I thought we were pretty good friends, but I had no way of knowing if that friendship could survive such a drastic change. Groaning, I flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "It's certainly not gonna survive if I just hide from him forever," I pointed out. That was undoubtedly the truth, and a very harsh one. There was no surefire way for the two of us to remain friends. In fact, the only way that we could possibly do so is if I told Jordan what had happened. "Please let him be okay with it," I prayed to whoever out there was willing to listen. Of course, there was no response, and I didn't feel any less nervous. Resigned to the whims of fate, I shifted about so that I could slip under the covers to get some sleep. The unfamiliar bed felt awkward and uncomfortable. My thoughts were uneasy and tempestuous. My body was wide awake and full of nervous energy. Needless to say, it took me a long time to fall asleep. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 22 Confusion greeted me with the morning light. There were just too many things that didn't match with my expectations. My bed felt different. The room looked different. I even felt different. Letting out a sleepy groan, I lifted my head and tried to shake the cobwebs from my thoughts. That actually helped some, reminding me that I wasn't at home. I was at Alaria's, borrowing her room. That explained why everything seemed off. Well, everything except the fact that there were all these black lines hanging around my face. Raising a hand, I tugged on a few of the strands, pulling them out a bit so that I could look at them better. That simple act was enough to make a realization slam into me. It was hair that I was holding, ink black and long enough to almost reach my shoulders. The hand that held it was wrong, too, flawlessly slim with smooth dusky skin and nails that stuck out slightly past my fingertips. "This means ..." I mumbled, but I never bothered to complete the thought. Instead, I dropped the hair and looked down. Baggy clothes and blankets did a good job of hiding most of what I wanted to see, at least momentarily. The former were soon pulled snug about my frame while the latter were tossed aside to clear my field of view. That was enough to make it quite clear that, just like the previous morning, I had changed significantly while I slept. "Wow ..." I breathed at the sight. On my first day as a girl, I hadn't been anything all that impressive, just a mildly feminized version of my male self. The second day, I'd entered the world of cute, moderately curved and sweet looking. Now, I felt like I could claim the word sexy and no one would question it. As with the previous two days, my chest had expanded further, getting big enough that I could possibly compete with my sister's healthy assets. Below that was a tiny waist that flared out into well rounded hips before tapering into long, shapely legs. All of that was covered by the same smooth skin that was far too dark to be mine or even just a tan. It was more of a rich mocha color that seemed to speak of some considerable non- white ancestry that my family just didn't have. Hopping out of bed, I glanced around, looking for a mirror. Unlike my room, Alaria's didn't seem to have one. The bathroom undoubtedly would, though, so that's where I went, rushing out of the room. While my body moved just fine, even gracefully, my haste presented a couple of issues. First of all, my expanded chest reacted to every hurried step, bouncing and bobbing around under my shirt in a manner that was both unfamiliar and uncomfortable. That forced me to cross an arm over my breasts to keep them in check. The other hand was busy with my hair, tossing the long locks out of my way as the combination of bed dishevelment and rushing air tended to tangle it up and throw it in my face. The annoyances didn't slow me down any, however. A few moments later, I burst into the bathroom, slammed the door closed behind me and turned toward the mirror. Reflected in the surface was a girl that was as beautiful as she was ragged looking. Her long hair was a tangled mess and her warm, emerald green eyes wide and unblinking. The latter were surrounded by long, dark lashes and hooded by thin, gracefully arched eyebrows. Around those features was a stunning face with a straight, delicate nose, high, pronounced cheekbones, and a lush, colorful lips. If not for her deer- in-headlights expression she could've easily been a model or a movie star. That was how radiant her appearance was. "My god," I gasped at the girl who bore no resemblance to me or even any member of my family. Part of me was thrilled by her beauty - my beauty - but there was another part, one that took over my thoughts, that was very very worried. "Am I going to just keep changing?" I asked the girl in the mirror. There was no way for me to tell when or even if the cycle would stop. Would every morning greet me with greater and greater femininity? How long could I handle that? At some point, my breasts would be unliftable, my hips dysfunctionally wide, and my lips too full for speaking. Reason cut through my growing panic, forcing me to shake my head clear. "Calm down, Vali," I told myself, but the voice I actually heard in my head was my sister's confident and supportive one. After all, that's exactly what she'd say to me if she was there at that moment, because I was making too big of a deal of this. "It'll stop," I stated, and even managed to believe it ... somewhat. The reason for that was simple. My appearance was a gift from Alaria, a woman so sublimely kind that I couldn't even imagine her trying to hurt me. This was just the natural course of fulfilling my wish, which had been to be as I was in the dream. There, I had been stunning and curvy, so I was just progressing toward that eventuality. That was all. Unless something had gone wrong. The winged woman was the mystical queen of a dream realm. There was no way of knowing how much power she had or if her expertise with it was infallible. She could have simply put too much magic into my change, pushed me far beyond the dream into a terrible nightmare. "No!" I huffed, shaking my head. "Even if there was a mistake. She'd fix it for me. I don't need to worry about it. I can just be happy." Lifting my gaze, I looked at the girl in the mirror. "Right?" My reflected counterpart had no answer for me, no reassurances to give. She was as frazzled and unsure as I was, terrified of all the potential pitfalls that seemed to lurk all around me. It was horrible. "I'd just wanted to be a girl," I mumbled, eyes stinging on the edge of tears. It seemed like such a simple and reasonable request. Why had it taken crazy magic? Why had my parents reacted so badly? Why couldn't things just work out? Knock, knock, came a gentle rapping on the bathroom door, but one wouldn't have thought it given my reaction. I started so hard that my joints actually hurt a little afterwards and my breath whistled as it was hissed through my teeth. As quickly as it came, though, the terror vanished, replaced by embarrassment at overreacting so much. "Vali?" a mature female voice called through the door. I suspected it belonged to Alaria's mother, but I couldn't be sure. I'd only shared a few words with her the night before. "Yes?" I answered meekly. "Your sister stopped by earlier with some clean clothes for you. I'll leave them on the bed in Alaria's room," the woman answered. "There's also plenty to eat in the kitchen, so just take whatever or let me know what you want, and I'll make it." "Oh, uhm ... thank you, but I'll be fine on my own," I replied. "Okay," Alaria's mother agreed without a fuss, followed by the muffled sound of footsteps moving away. Only once I was sure the woman was gone did I finally relax. Strangely, it wasn't just the panic of dealing with her that faded, but all of it sort of rushed out of me at once. Maybe it was just the realization that, at that moment, I was safe under the care of Alaria and her family. Nothing was going to leap out and attack me. My body wasn't going to just suddenly balloon up to immobility. For at least a little tiny bit, I could set my fears and worries aside and let myself be happy. Turning back to the mirror, I smiled wanly at my reflection. "I do look pretty, or at least, I will once I do something about my hair." *********************************************** *********************************************** "Why did I agree to talk to him?" I whined as I looked at my phone. Apparently, my sister had dropped it off for me with my clothes, which was nice. The messages contained within, however, were ... inconvenient. The most recent text that I'd received was from Misha, herself. It read, "Don't forget. You promised to talk to Jordan today. No backing out." That reminder had been enough to send a whole pile of worry crashing down on me. It had also led me to check all the other unread messages I had. They were all from Jordan, a handful in total. They started typical enough, but became more and more concerned with my wellbeing with each one that went by unanswered. In total, they spanned the entire afternoon of the previous day, and I knew they'd ended up with the boy coming over to check on me. Now, I was glad that Jordan cared enough to worry like that, but I was also terrified of having to face him. I had no idea how he would react to finding out that my supposed 'illness' had actually been me turning into a girl. Some people seemed good with it like Misha and her friends, and others ... "I wish I could know ahead of time," I muttered, although I knew how impossible that was. The only way to find out how Jordan would react would be to go over there and face him. The problem was that, once I did, it would be too late to avoid it. Shaking my head, I typed out a simple text of, "Hey," and sent it off, hoping that Jordan would be too busy to notice it. Unfortunately, I was not that lucky. With less than thirty seconds, I got a reply of, "Hey! Feeling better?" "Ya," I answered. Jordan's response sent my heart leaping into my threat. "Great! Wanna hang out?" There it was, my last real chance to turn away. All I had to do was make up some excuse to say no, and I wouldn't have to face my friend. It would be so easy, except for the part where I'd spend the rest of the day wallowing in guilt over my cowardice and worry about what had only been delayed not avoided. "Sure, be right over," I typed back, having to force my fingers through every letter and the final send command. Then the message was away, committing me to my path. Letting out a resigned sigh, I flopped back against the pillow of my borrowed bed. For a moment, I just lay there, avoiding what had to be done. My choice was made, though, so I didn't linger for long. I shoved myself up, slid off the bed, and begin the walk that would end a little ways down the street where an unknown fate awaited me. *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 23 "Here goes ..." I murmured doubtfully as I raised my hand to the doorbell. Before I reached the button, though, my hand froze. For a second, I held that pose, fighting an internal war. Then, my courage waned, and my hand dropped back down. Ostensibly, that was to mess with my clothes. Nothing was going to make the garments made for a husky boy fit right on a slim, curvy girl properly, though. I was just stalling, and I knew it. Shaking my head, I steeled my courage for another try with a nice hard swallow. "For real this time," I stated firmly, forcing my hand back up to the door. Even this time, I still hesitated, but the internal struggle tipped the other way, and the sound of a doorbell chime rang out from inside of the house before me. "It's open!" I heard Jordan's voice yell from inside. While that call was clearly a cue to enter, I just looked at the door uneasily. What would Jordan think, having some strange girl just walk into his house? That probably wouldn't go well. It certainly didn't feel right to me. What else could I do, though? Uncertainly, I rang the bell a second time, hoping that would work. Maybe, a text would've been better? Maybe, I should've just walked in like usual? That probably would've made it more clear who I was. Now, Jordan was going to open the door on someone who looked like a total stranger. Convinced that I'd made the wrong choice, I started to reach for the door's handle, but I was a little too slow. There was a click from the latch just before my hand could get there. Then, the door pulled away, revealing the interior of the house. "Jeez, dude, it's-whoa," Jordan began only to gasp when he saw me. The noise wasn't the only reaction, his eyes went wide and unblinking, soaking up the sight. For my part, I instantly felt a rush of panic and embarrassment that made me want to run away. Doing so would've been even more humiliating than standing there, though, albeit not by much. As such, I held my ground, looking down at my feet and wrapping my arms around myself. "Uhm ... sorry," the boy stammered out a moment later, after recovering enough from his surprise to start speaking again. "I, uh, I thought you were someone else." "You do now," I whispered under my breath. "Hmm? What was that?" Jordan asked. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I shook my head, and mumbled out a slightly louder, "Nothing." "Okay ..." my friend responded uncertainly. "Is there, uhm ... is there something I can help you with, like directions or ...?" The way the boy trailed off left a clear gap for me to supply my reason for being there. I just needed to speak up. That was so hard to do, though. Where would I even begin? It was all just so ... overwhelming. "You okay?" the boy inquired. "Did someone, like, do something to you?" "S-Sort of," I murmured weakly. "Really?!" Jordan exclaimed. "Do you wanna come in? Should I call the cops?" Realizing things were about to get out of hand, I quickly shook my head. "No, it uhm ... happened a few days ago." "Okay ... now I'm lost again," my friend replied. "What happened and why would you be here days later?" Tell him! That was the command my mind screamed at me. My mouth was apparently rather hard of hearing, though, because it didn't start spewing out words. In fact, my lips seemed frozen in place and my tongue made out of lead. Even just forcing my gaze up to Jordan's felt impossible, like my neck had been permanently bolted at a downward angle. I fought through it. My eyes lifted to meet his. My lips cracked opened. My mind formed words. My voice obeyed. "I ..." was all I managed to get out at first, a pitiful little squeak of a word, but it was something, a beginning to build upon. "... I know this is going to sound ... weird ... crazy ... impossible ... absurd-" "Okay, sounds heavy," the boy broke the rambling list that I'd fallen into. "But, I'm willing to listen if you want." The kindness of those words brought a smile to my face as I nodded. "Thank you." "Sure thing," Jordan answered, returning my smile with a reassuring one of his own. "So what's this crazy thing that happened to ya?" "I ... uhm ... " I started only to find it very hard to continue. A few more words, and the truth would be out, but I was so afraid of what that truth might bring with it. Still, I took a deep breath and forced out the words in one big burst, "I was turned into a girl!" As I finished that declaration, I braced for some terrible reaction, but it never materialized. "You were turned into ... a girl?" the boy repeated my claim. Cracking open eyes that I had even realized that I'd close, I found Jordan just looking at me with an expression that was doubtful and bewildered. Only then did I realize that I'd left out a crucial detail in my claim. I'd only said what I'd become, not who I'd been before. "Uhm ... yes. Y'see, I'm ... well ... " I caught myself stalling again. Shaking my head, I gathered my courage for another solid announcement. "I'm Vali." Again, I expected something terrible only to be wrong. There was no anger or disgust or loathing. Jordan just reeled back a little, his expression growing more befuddled, but no less doubtful. "Your friend ... from down the street," I added, shifting one of my hands just enough to let me point back toward my house. The clarification did nothing to ease the wide-eyed incredulity on the boy's face, but he did manage some words in response. "You're Vali?" I nodded. "Yeah." "Short, husky guy with brown hair," Jordan continued, raising a hand to indicate a spot a few inches shy of his height, right about where I stood - or at least where I used to stand. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was almost eye to eye with my friend, now. While that fact felt odd, I pushed it away to nod again. "Yeah, that's me or was or whatever." "No way," the boy denied with a shake of his head. "This has to be some kind of joke. I mean, that's not really Vali's thing, but maybe he's getting back at me for that time at the pool or ... I don't know, something." "No, Jordan. It's me," I insisted. "This is why I told you I was sick." "What? You caught some kinda girl flu?" my friend questioned dubiously, before taking a cautious step back. "It's not contagious is it?" "No, I didn't catch anything!" I exclaimed before continuing more quietly. "I wasn't really sick. I was just ... different, and I didn't know what to do." Finally, acceptance seemed to dawn on Jordan's face. He regained the step he'd lost from his momentary fear and peered at me uneasily. "You're serious? You're actually Vali, but ... girlified somehow?" "Yeah," I confirmed. "Unbelievable, no wonder you were hiding in your room the last couple days," the boy breathed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "What the hell did this to you?" "Well ..." I began uncertainly, looking to the side. "You remember that lady we saw at the house across from mine? The one with the wings?" "Like there's any fucking chance I'd forgotten the smokin' hot chick with wings," Jordan remarked sarcastically before he put two and two together. "Wait ... she did this to you?!" I nodded meekly. "Yeah." "Damn, dude. Holy shit ..." my friend muttered in disbelief. "What the hell for? Did you, like, steal something from her or something?" "No, I ..." the first word came out firm and definitive the second weak and uncertain. When I continued, my words were even softer, barely loud enough to be heard. "I asked her to." "What?" Jordan questioned with a disbelieving chuckle, like he thought I had to be joking. Stealing my nerve, I forced myself to look the boy right in the eye and clearly pronounce, "I asked her to." Even with all of that, the boy still acted like he must've misheard me. "You asked her to turn you into a girl?" I couldn't have said what it was, the question itself, the doubt it implied, the stubborn refusal to listen. Any of those could've been the cause or all of them or something else entirely. I just couldn't take it, though. "Yes!" I blurted, voice ragged with emotion. "I wanted to be a girl! Why is that so hard for people to understand?! Is it that terrible?!" Silence fell as my friend reeled back from my outburst. My mind was reeling, too. I was so stupid. Why had I said that? Why couldn't I stay calm? Why was this always so hard to talk about? Folding in on myself, I looked down and mumbled, "Sorry, I didn't ..." More silence welled up as I trailed off, harsh and damning. I'd screwed up. Jordan was going to hate me now, just like my parents, and probably everyone else except maybe Misha. I should've just stayed- "It's shocking," my friend remarked. Torn from my spiral of despair, I dared to look up. "What?" "It's shocking. Y'know, like, unexpected ... surprising that sort of thing. I just never thought that ..." Jordan started to clarify only to drift off for a moment. "It's, uhm ... it's not terrible, though." Now, it was my turn to not believe. After how terribly things had gone with my parents and the stupid way that I'd handled this conversation, such an answer just seemed impossible. I was certain that I would be reviled as something beyond scum. Yet, there it was. "Y-You mean you're okay with it?" I tested, finding it easier to believe that I had misheard than been granted acceptance. "Yeah, sure, of course," my friend confirmed clearly. "I mean, if you wanna be a girl, then, well ... yeah ..." I could barely contain myself when I heard Jordan's response. So badly, I wanted to just leap out and hug him. Getting his support, knowing that my friendship wasn't going to end, was so much more than just a relief. It was exhilarating. I restrained myself, though, just a touch worried to do anything so overt, just in case, somehow, I might ruin the moment and shatter his acceptance. "Thank you. I can't tell you how much that means to me," I replied, settling for just those words and a big smile on my face. The boy looked away, undoubtedly a bit uncomfortable with my effusive gratitude. "It's nothing. We're friends." Seeing that reaction made me very glad that I'd restrained myself as much as I had. Things could've ended up incredibly awkward. This way wasn't bad at all. All I had to do was keep that burning sensation in my eyes from turning into tears of joy. "Yeah," I breathed, basking in my happiness for a moment. Then, I dared to press a little further. "So ... you still wanna hang out?" "Uhhhhh, sure," Jordan replied. "Come on in." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 24 Silence, palpably awkward, hung over the room. It had been there since the moment that I'd sat down on the couch. No, truthfully, it had been there since I'd stepped through the front door of the house. One cause of the pervasive quiet was Jordan. He had not said a word since inviting me inside; hadn't even looked like he'd wanted to. He'd just let me lead the way into the living room, pick a seat, then chose his own spot about as far away from me as he could. There, he sat, occasionally glancing my way. Of course, it wasn't as if I wasn't complicit in the silence as well. I could've said something, but I didn't know where to begin. Should I suggest an activity? Explain my motivations for desiring to change? Talk about the weather? Every idea felt awkward and forced, only growing more so as time ticked by without anything being said. As such, I mostly mirrored my friend's actions, sitting there with my eyes on the floor except for an occasional and brief look up at the boy. Second after second passed like that, dragging by with glacial slowness. The pressure of the silence grew over time, weighing upon me. Every glance I caught Jordan throwing my way multiplied that weight even more. I tried crossing my arms to compensate. Then, I tried rubbing one of them to compensate. Then, I tried bouncing my leg a little. None of it was enough to burn off the anxious energy that flooded me in ever increasing amounts. "M-Maybe I ... we ..." I stammered, trying to break the terrible moment before it crushed me. I couldn't find the words for it, though. In the end, rather than finish the thought, I weakly mumbled, "Nevermind." Again, the silence came, even more oppressive than before as if to spite my attempt at breaking it. By contrast, my resolve had never been weaker. Doubt crept in, making it impossible for me to not wonder whether it had been a mistake to even come inside. I should've just excused myself, gone back to Alaria's house and played with her little sister or something until Misha told me it was safe to come out again. The pressure of the situation was just about to overwhelm me when Jordan remarked, "You're so pretty." "What?!" I gasped, jerking my gaze up to the boy even as I felt my cheeks start to burn. "I mean for a boy!" my friend quickly backpedaled, raising his hands defensively. "I would've thought ... well ... you'd be more ... mannish, I guess." That correction did little to clarify the situation. In fact, it served mostly to turn my embarrassment over the compliment into confusion. "Oh ..." Without offering any further explanation, Jordan asked, "How did she do it, anyway? Was it magic? She did seem sort of fairy-like." "I guess she is kinda like my fairy godmother," I commented, managing a small smile at the idea. How many times had I wished to have someone like that come to help me during my long wait? Far too many. "But, she's actually the queen of dreams, and I don't really know how she did it. I just assumed it was magic." "Queen of dreams, huh?" the boy repeated that title with a wistful look in his eyes. "She definitely was dreamy." Looking down, I nodded weakly. "Yeah ..." For an instant after that, it seemed like the silence would return, but Jordan stepped up to keep it at bay. "So ... what's it like?" "Hmm?" I hummed, looking up. "Being a girl and everything?" Jordan clarified. "I mean, you said earlier that you wanted to be one, so I was kinda curious if it was, uh ... meeting your expectations?" "Oh ... uhm ... it's ..." I struggled to find a coherent sentence as a torrent of thoughts hit me all at once. Should I talk about going out with Misha and her friends? Should I discuss the difference in feel between this body and my old one? Should I talk about the problems I was having with my parents? There were so many possible paths, but I had no idea which one my friend wanted me to walk. Feeling stupid and clueless, I offered only a noncommittal, "... not quite what I expected." Jordan tilted his head slightly at that response. "Really? Like how? Did she turn you into the wrong kinda girl or something?" "What?!" I gasped in confusion before quickly shaking my head. "No, I ... uhm ... I'm really happy with how I look, although I'm a little worried about where I'm gonna end up." "End up? You mean, you're not ... " my friend questioned before pausing to make a circular gesture with his fingers. "... all the way." "Uhm ... sort of?" I answered uncertainly. "I'm ... complete in that sense. It's just, I keep ... changing every night ... at least so far." Jordan furrowed his brow. "Changing how?" "Well, like, my hair is a lot longer today," I explained, picking a relatively innocuous trait that had changed. "It wasn't even to my chin yesterday, and now, it brushes my shoulders sometimes." "Ah, so you're getting girlier," the boy summarized. I nodded. "Yeah, I guess, and it's not like I mind, so far. I just ... don't know what I'll look like when it stops - if it stops." "Couldn't the dream lady tell you?" Jordan guessed. That question earned a shrug from me. "I don't know. I hope so, but I haven't seen her today, so I haven't been able to ask." "Huh ..." my friend mumbled. "Well, let's say it does stop. Are you just going to be like this from now on, then?" "Uhm ... I suppose," I confirmed, looking down at myself. "I mean, I'll need some new clothes and maybe a different name." "Different name? Don't like Vali?" Jordan asked. I shook my head. "No, I do. I was thinking about changing my full name from Valeriu to like ... " Pausing for a moment, I looked down shyly. "... Valeria ... maybe." "Oh, I guess that makes sense," the boy replied. "Yeah ..." I murmured, rubbing my hands together. "Other than that, I should mostly be ... y'know ..." The same was the phrase I was looking for, but I couldn't say it. The truth was that I didn't want to be anything like how I'd been. I wanted to not just be a girl, but girly. I wanted female friends with which to do female things and get to just be open and warm and ... lots of other things that would probably destroy my friendship with Jordan. I couldn't stand the idea of doing that, though, so I'd have to ... pretend. Even as all that emotion whirled through me, my friend moved on quickly with just a simple nod. "So who all have you told then besides me - and your family of course." "Huh?" I breathed, momentarily disoriented by the sudden switch in subject. "Oh ... uhm ... no one. Well, no, a couple of Misha's friends know, but that just sorta happened. I didn't mean to tell them." "A couple of your sister's friends? Half the high school probably knows by now then," Jordan remarked. Panic flared within me. "What?! Why?!" "Why?" the boy asked as if the answer was incredibly obvious. "Because they're girls, popular ones at that. There's no way they kept something like this to themselves. I mean, Andrea certainly wouldn't. Fuck, she probably wouldn't even wait for you to finish telling her what was going on before she started texting her friends about it. She does that kinda shit all the time. Makes it hard to talk to her, sometimes, 'cause you just know if it's anything remotely interesting it's gonna be all over fucking creation in minutes." With every word of that explanation, I felt more and more blood draining from my face. I'd thought the situation was mostly contained, that I could slowly branch out at my own pace. Even telling Jordan had felt rushed to me. I'd only done it because my sister thought I should, and while I was actually glad that I had let her talk me into that, now, suddenly, hundreds of people might know. That was way too fast for me. The sound of a camera shutter jerked my attention from my thoughts and back to Jordan. When my eyes focused they saw him there with his phone in hand clearly having just taken a picture of me. If any blood had remained in my face by that point, it was sucked out in an instant. "What are you doing?!" I exclaimed in shock, disbelief, and growing fear. "What?" the boy asked innocently. "Just taking a picture, so I can show Andrea and the guys what you look like." "No! You can't do that!" I declared vehemently. "Delete it right now!" Jordan screwed his face up at that demand. "Why? It's no big deal. They're gonna see you eventually, anyway." "I said no!" I shrieked, my voice getting shrill with desperation. Finally, my friend relented, tossing his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll delete it, jeez." That acquiescence helped to relax me a little, at least enough to talk at a normal pitch and volume. "Thank you." "Sure thing," Jordan responded as he manipulated his phone to delete the photo. "But Andrea's gonna be pissed at me when she finds out what happened and I don't have a picture to show her." "Sorry, I just ..." I apologized at barely more than a whisper. "... I'm not ready." "I sorta get that, but I sorta don't, too," my friend empathized. "I mean, sure, you might get some jokes, but better to get it out of the way than just wait in fear." The logic seemed sound, but I shrugged in response. "I guess, but ... there's just so much going on right now. I want some of it to settle down, or at least for me to know what I'm going to end up looking like, before I start more." "Okay," the boy conceded "I'll keep it under wraps for ya." That promise had my lips curling up in a relieved smile. "Thank you." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 25 The sound and spectacle of a movie dominated the living room. It had been going on for a while, but I couldn't have said how long exactly. In fact, I'd barely noticed the film. I'd been too distracted by other things, namely Jordan. While the awkwardness from when I'd first entered the house had lessened, the boy still sat quite far from me. That didn't make him any worse at drawing my attention, though. One could even say I was fixated. What did he think of me? What would our friendship be like going forward? How much did I need to pretend? Those were just some of the questions that took turns whirling through my mind. Almost all went unanswered. One downside of being so intent on my friend was that sometimes, albeit rarely, the movie didn't hold his attention either. In those moments, he would often glance my way. Occasionally, I would be gazing at him at the same time, and our eyes would meet. Then, I would immediately avert my eyes as embarrassment flooded me. One such exchange had just happened a few seconds ago, leaving me pretending to be really intent on a bit of lint caught in the cushion next to where I sat. I even picked at it with my fingers to sell the charade. That was how pathetic I was - as if anyone would actually believe that I was just fascinated by the upholstery. For the life of me, I couldn't think of anything better to do. I couldn't just stare at the boy all movie, especially not after he'd caught me. That would be beyond creepy. I couldn't bring myself to talk to him either. Things were going so well. What if I made some stupid mistake, and it all fell apart? I couldn't just ignore him either. I tried. The movie couldn't hold my interest. My thoughts wouldn't stay away from him. In the end, I always found myself back to looking his way, wistful and uncertain. The chirp of my phone interrupted the humiliating cycle, giving me something meaningful to distract myself with. Pulling the device from my pocket, I found a text from my sister waiting for me that said, "Talk to Jordan yet or did you chicken out?" Smirking, I typed back. "Actually I'm at his place right now. Watching a movie." "Wow! Atta girl!" came Misha's exuberant response. The praise actually went to my head, making me feel flush with pride. "Thanks. Glad you made me do it." "Just looking out for my sis," the other girl texted. "D'ya mind setting that thing to silent or something?" Jordan's voice cut into the conversation. "I'm trying to watch this." "Sorry!" I apologized quickly, popping up from my seat. "I'll, uh, go outside." My friend shrugged disinterestedly. "'Kay." While Jordan went back to the movie, I hurried out of the house. By the time I got there, I'd already received another message from my sister, saying, "I've got more good news. Parents are coming around." "Really? That's great!" I answered. "I am a miracle worker," came Misha's slightly arrogant reply. "Don't want to rush you but think you can come home for dinner?" Unlike the preceding conversation, that request filled me with worry. My sister did say that she'd talked our parents down from their anger, but she'd also said they wouldn't get angry in the first place. Memories of the dark look on my father's face as he swatted the older girl out of the way to get to me was enough to make the very idea of being near him again terrifying. "I know it's scary but it will only get harder if you don't," Misha added. Smiling weakly at the older girl's apparent mind-reading abilities, I texted back. "Ya. I'll be there for dinner." "Awesome!" my sister responded immediately. "Have fun with Jordan!" "I will," I promised, returning the phone to my pocket. With the device now silent, I turned to look down the street. I couldn't see my house from Jordan's, but I didn't really need to. It wasn't like it would look any different. Only my place inside it and the family that lived there had changed. Part of me wondered if, maybe, I didn't even belong there anymore. My parents had been so angry with me. How could a day change that? How much worse would it get as I grew more feminine both in appearance and personality? "Misha's there," I reminded myself. My parents might not be the most reliable anymore, but I knew I could count on my sister. If problems arose, she'd help me solve them. I could count on Alaria, too, and maybe even Jordan now. I wasn't alone. There was no need to be so afraid. Taking a deep breath, I filled myself up with those confidence-inspiring thoughts and turned to go back inside. After all, I still had a few hours before dinner to spend with Jordan. As I had promised Misha, I intended to have fun with them. *********************************************** *********************************************** "Hey you!" Misha called out from the porch of our house as I approached. Hopping up from her seat, she walked over to the rail to lean against it. "You look different!" "Yeah," I answered more quietly, glancing around nervously as I picked up my pace. This wasn't the sort of conversation that I wanted to have the whole neighborhood listening in on. "Shelia was more right than she thought," my sister continued on unabashedly, although she did at least quiet down as I got closer. "You could already give me a run for my money." Cheeks burning, I looked down at my feet for the remainder of the walk to the porch. "No, I couldn't." "Sure you could, at least, if you had some better clothes," Misha remarked, reaching out to tug on my sleeve once I was within arm's reach. "This stuff definitely doesn't suit you anymore." "Not wearing it, 'cause I like it," I muttered, quite unhappy with my current attire. I would've preferred something much more feminine like a sun dress or something. Of course, I didn't own any of those, and even if I did, I probably wouldn't wear it. Something so overtly girly would only cause trouble for me right now. "Well then, we'll just have to buy you some stuff you do like," my sister replied smartly, giving me a quick once over. "Still like dresses or was that just a phase when you were a kid?" The older girl's continued ability to apparently read my mind furthered my embarrassment, making it hard to offer more than a little nod and weakly hummed, "Mmmhmm." "Good, then we just ne-" Misha started to say, but she never finished. The sound of the front door's latch cut into the conversation, silencing the conversation in a snap. Fear rushed into me, burning away the previous embarrassment as my gaze jerked up to spot my mother as she swung the door open. That was a better sight than my father, but I still felt every muscle in my body snap taunt, as a terrified voice in my head tried to order me to run away. I held my ground, but as a statue so rigid I shook from the tension. Meanwhile, my mother stepped out onto the porch, closing the door properly behind her as she did. Throughout the process, her eyes never left me, staring at me, washing over me, boring into me. They were intense and hard, clearly no happier with me than they had been the day before. That only made the run away option all the more tempting, but the time for that had passed. "Hey Mom. You're right on time," Misha remarked lightheartedly, driving back some of the awkwardness of the moment in order to force a conversation to begin. "Vali," my mother stated sternly. It wasn't just my name. It was a command to give her my attention and obedience. "Yes, Mom?" I responded, standing there cowed like a guilty child. There was a pause as the woman stared at me, taking a slow, deep breath. Only then did she say more. "Is no way you would go back to boy?" "Mom!" my sister exclaimed. "Quiet, Misha!" our mother shot back with supreme authority. Not even for me did my sister dare to speak up again in that moment, allowing the question to be repeated. "Is no way you would go back, Vali?" Mustering every last scrap of courage I had, I managed to say, "I won't go back." A moment of silence so tense that it felt like it had a physical presence passed, before my mother nodded and answered, "Then, I accept girl over nothing." Even with all of my sister's assurances that she'd fixed things, I couldn't believe that I'd actually heard those words. "You ... you really mean that?" "Yes, but don't think I lenient," my mother warned. "You were good son. Now, must be better daughter." Having no problem with those demands, I nodded gratefully. "I will be." "Good, then come inside. Dinner ready," my mother directed, then, without waiting for a reply, she spun and walked right back into the house. As the door closed behind the older woman, Misha turned to me, grinning smugly. "See? Told ya I'd get 'em to come around." Dumbfounded by how well that had gone, I returned her look with a wide- eyed one of my own. Somehow, she'd actually worked things out. Everyone that mattered to me was okay with my being a this way. I didn't have to change back or run away or anything. I could just be a girl. "I know, I know. I'm amazing," Misha joked, affecting a rather arrogant air. "You can begin grovelling when-" The words ended when I darted forward to slam into the older girl and wrap my arms around her. It was quite the forceful hug, but the surge of emotion that prompted it had even more energy to it. There was no way that I'd ever be able to express it all, not with words nor actions. "Thank you, Misha," I breathed, putting as much gratitude into those words as possible. Chuckling, my sister slid her arms around me as well. "You're welcome, sis." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 26 In my experience, family dinners have usually been pretty lively affairs, but that night's certainly wasn't. None of the usual conversation, my sister talking about her friends and school life or our mother going through all the scheduling details and minutia of running a household, could be heard. There were only the clicks of flatware and the munch of chewing. Even for the two of us that were usually pretty quiet, there was an extra gloom in our silence that created a cold, tense air around the meal. If I had to name a cause, I would've said it was all because of my father. The very sight of him had instilled fear in my heart, and the idea of sharing a pleasant meal with him seemed impossible. After all, right across the table, I could see my sister, eye still discolored from his strike. I could only imagine how many such bruises I would've had if not for Alaria coming to my rescue. To make things even worse, the man was clearly unhappy, scowling darkly down at his food as he ate in a slow, methodical manner. While my father might've been the main source of my personal angst, my mother did nothing to help the situation. She had not said a word to me since the end of the conversation on the porch. In fact, her only words since I'd entered the house had been to instruct Misha to fetch our father for dinner. Other than that, she had been perfectly impassive. Showing nothing, she'd focused purely on her meal while projecting an aura that she did not wish to be bothered. Misha was the only one that seemed willing to talk, even eager, but the dour climate surrounding her suppressed such desires. She'd made a few comments to me about the two friends that I'd briefly hung out with the day before, but those had been early on in the meal and quite brief. After that, she, too, had fallen silent, picking at her food in an uneasy manner. Somehow, through all of that, I did at least manage to eat, not a lot, but a few small bites. Even that much had been hard to swallow past all the fear and worry that clogged my throat. It wasn't satisfying either. My hunger had been scared off by the mood, and my stomach so twisted up that no morsel within ever settled. Every bite I took just adding to a churning twisting mass of discomfort. "You about done, Vali?" my sister's voice asked, sounding thunderously loud after the prolonged silence. Starting at the sudden noise, I shrugged meekly. "I-I guess?" "Great, wanna go upstairs then?" the girl followed up as she rose from her seat and turned to take care of her dishes. "There's something I wanna talk to you about." "Okay?" I agreed uncertainly, glancing between my parents. Neither offered any form of objection nor even acknowledgement. Even so, I felt extremely apprehensive as I slipped out of my seat. Once our dishes were cleaned up, Misha led the way upstairs to her room, rushing about with clear purpose. I followed in her wake, quiet and unsure as I kept glancing back expecting to find my parents coming after me. They never did, but the fear persisted until the door to my sister's room lay between me and them. "Now then, where is it?" the older girl mused aloud as she strode across her room to her closet. "Where's what?" I inquired, drifting after her for a couple steps before coming to a stop. "A dress of mine," Misha answered absently as she started going through the massive mess of clothes that she possessed. I crinkled my brow in confusion. "You wanted to talk about a dress?" "No, I wanted you to wear it. I just didn't think Mom and Dad were ready to hear us talking like that," my sister explained, before finally reaching out to grab an item from the closet with a triumphant, "Ah ha! There it is!" The desire was stupefying enough in its own right, but seeing the garment that Misha had picked out, a red dress, didn't make it any better. It wasn't anything new, not even to me. I'd seen it before. In fact, not that long ago, I'd ... 'borrowed' it while my sister was out. Walking over, my sister held the item up in front of me. "It's kinda cheap, but it's small and stretchy, so I think it might fit you, even though you're a lot skinnier than I am." With eyes so wide it was amazing they stayed in my head, I stared in disbelief at the garment. "Y-Y-You want me to wear that? Right now?" "Yeah," Misha confirmed before offering some quick qualifications. "I mean, if you want. I just figured that between what you said earlier and how moved you were yesterday just by wearing a bra, I thought you'd like to wear something other than too-large boy's clothes for a while." The older girl wasn't wrong. The idea of wearing the dress was tempting After so many times standing in front of a mirror, looking like some obvious crossdresser, the possibility that I might not only get to wear the dress without shame, but have it fit me, was just so ... "Well?" my sister asked. "Want to or not?" Broken from my fixation, I looked down and mumbled, "I ... uhm ... yes." That last word was incredibly quiet and it made my cheeks start burning, but I'd said it. "Then get changed already!" Misha commanded, rattling the dress at me. There was enough force in that order that my hands took the dress, but I still looked around uncertainly. "Here?" "We're both girls, aren't we?" my sister pointed out. "Well ... yes, but ... I, uhm ..." I stammered softly. Rolling her eyes, Misha let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'll wait outside, but you're gonna need to get used to changing around other girls. There are these things called locker rooms, and you're gonna have to use one for PE." "I know," I acknowledged, even as the very idea of actually going into the girl's locker room filled me with fear. Would people get mad? Would they mock me? My sister rested a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll get there." A wan smile curled my lips. "Thanks." "No problem," Misha replied, releasing me to point toward the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me ..." With that, my sister walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the dress that I'd been told to wear. Looking down at it, I found it hard to believe the situation was real. It was so similar to the daring nights of my past, yet so different. Where before I'd snuck about pretending to be what I wasn't, now, I was being invited to act the way that I'd always wanted to. It was beyond words. "I probably shouldn't keep her waiting, though," I cautioned myself after a moment. It wouldn't do to repay all of my sister's kindness and support with sluggishness. Setting the dress aside, I went about stripping out of my boy's clothes. That was an easy enough task until I got down to my underwear, then I found myself unsure. They were briefs, so not too dissimilar to panties, but still, they felt like a betrayal of the feminine moment. The prospect of going without any, though, was beyond embarrassing. "I'll just deal with 'em," I muttered, retrieving the dress. The garment slipped on easily, a little too easily, in fact. The stretchy material it was made out of was meant to make it cling to a woman's curves, but it had a hard time performing that function on me. Even where my figure swelled outward at hip and chest, the fit was only so-so, and where it bent inward, the garment tended to clump. The overall effect wasn't great, but it still did a lot more to show off my girl's body than my own clothes did. Just the fact that it showed cleavage, real cleavage, not socks stuffed into a bra, was enough to do that. Needing to see more, I hurried over to my sister's full body mirror. When I saw my reflection, my breath caught in my throat. The unflattering fit didn't matter anymore. In the mirror, I saw only a beautiful young woman, svelte figure clad in a sexy dress that she could totally pull off. "Wow ... I can't believe that's me ..." I breathed, lips cracking into a smile as I slid my hands down along my curves. I didn't stop there either, flowing smoothly into a few poses, some sweet and others daring. However, all of them worked in a way they never would have for me before. "You're quite the model," my sister's voice remarked from behind me. Spinning around, I folded my arms conservatively over my chest and yelped, "Misha! What are you doing in here?!" Leaning against the wall across the room and smirking at me, the older girl pushed off to walk toward me. "Catching a sneak peek of what you're like when you're not so worried about the people around you," she remarked. "Even girlier than I expected." While there was no reason for me to be embarrassed by that assessment anymore, my face still blazed with heat as my gazed jerked down to the ground. "I, uh ... I didn't ..." "It's alright," my sister offered as she slid around behind me to rest her hands on my shoulders. With that grip, she put a little pressure on my, just enough to get me to turn back to facing the mirror. Then, for a moment, we just stood there, her appraising me while I was too nervous to speak or move. "You know, I was so mad when Mom made us to stop playing dress up together," she divulged. "You were, like, the best doll ever. You put on anything I wanted, did whatever I said, and yet, could move about on your very own. Playing with you was just so much fun." As those words drifted by, the tension began leaking out of me. By the final period, I even lifted my head to look at Misha in the mirror. Her lips were curled in a proud smile, and her eyes glistened wetly, making my own start to burn as well. "I loved it, too," I told her. My answer wasn't meant to hurt, but there was a flicker of pain on my sister's face all the same. "I didn't ... I didn't make you want this, did I?" "No, of course not," I assured her. "Because it couldn't have been easy, hating who you were, constantly wishing to be someone you weren't. If I caused that ..." Misha continued as if she hadn't heard my words, emotion starting to choke her up along the way. Twisting free of the older girl's grip, I spun around so I could throw my arms around my sister. "That's not what happened." "How can you b-" Misha pressed. "It's not!" I exclaimed, denying the possibility as emphatically as possible. Silence followed that outburst for one terrible moment. Then, my sister moved, shifting to return my embrace gently. "You're right. This is just how it always should've been." Clinging all the tighter to the older girl, I smiled. "Exactly." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 27 The haze of waking filled my head as I cracked my eyes open to the world. The sight that awaited them, however, seemed wrong. The room's orientation was all wrong, with different furnishings and colors. Panic struck before understanding, causing me to jerk upright in bed. A step behind, realization hit me, washing the panic away. The room around me wasn't some foreign place. It belonged to my sister. "Mmm, must've fallen asleep," I murmured as I reached up to rub at my eyes. It made sense. Misha and I had been up late into the night, mostly reminiscing about back when we were kids, back before we'd had any real understanding of the differences between boys and girls. The memories of that light-hearted conversation had me glancing to the other side of the bed. Unlike me, my sister had a queen-size in her room, so there was plenty of space for two. That was a good thing, because Misha lay over there, still sound asleep. "My first night of girl talk," I mused, cracking a satisfied smile. Of course, it had been with my sister, not friends like it typically would be, but I was counting it. Just like I was counting it as my first time wearing a dress for real, even though I had never left the room. It had been around someone else, so it was good enough for me. Thinking about the previous night's attire made me aware of the fact that I was still wearing it. The snug fabric combined with the fact that I could feel air moving along all the skin that I wasn't used to being bare made it hard to mistake. It felt a little snugger than I remembered, though. Crinkling my brow, I glanced down only to wince. The cause wasn't some terrible sight, like finding myself male again, or anything similar. No, the problem was that the dress was in fact snugger than I remembered, specifically, because my chest was bigger. "Jeez, how much more am I gonna change?" I muttered, reaching up to cup my expanded assets. There was a lot to hold onto now, feeling at least as big as the kind of breasts that I'd used to pretend to have when I'd borrowed my sister's clothes. These weren't stiff, lifeless socks, though. They were soft, warm, and most importantly, a part of me. They also had a considerable heft to them that was nothing like stuffing. It was nothing like the smaller breasts that I'd spent the last couple of days with either. Those had been hardly noticeable while sitting or walking around, especially the first couple of days, but these had a palpable presence to them that I had a feeling was going to be hard to ignore. "What about the rest of me?" I wondered aloud, releasing my breasts to scramble out of the bed and hurry over to my sister's mirror. The sight that awaited me did not earn another wince, but a pleased, "Not too bad, I guess." Other than my chest, the changes for the day seemed relatively minor. My skin tone hadn't darkened any further, keeping its smooth, mocha hue. My face looked a touch different, more mature and sort of ... sultry. A lot of that was the eyes, large, almond pools of brilliant emerald that were framed by long, dark lashes. Redder, fuller, lips probably added a bit to that look, as well. Plus, I couldn't be sure, but the dress felt a little tighter around my hips, so they might've been a bit rounder. In fact, other than my bust, the biggest change was probably my hair, which while still raven black, was now nearly twice as long, falling to the middle of my back. "Maybe that means I'm done?" I noted hopefully, doing a few twists and turns in front of the mirror to get a good look at myself from multiple angles. If that guess was true, I would've been thrilled. I looked incredible, not just beautiful but decidedly and overtly womanly. There wasn't a trace of boyishness to be found. "Would've been nice to look a little more like my family, though," I offered one critique. My family had always tended to resemble each other pretty strongly, much to my sister's annoyance when it came to her weight. Personally, I'd always liked that. It made me feel like we were just that extra bit closer. Now, I looked nothing like any of them really. Even Misha, other than being a beautiful girl in her own right, didn't resemble me in any meaningful way. No one that saw us together would ever think that we were related. "Would've been nice if you didn't talk to yourself so much, so I could've slept," Misha's voice grumbled sleepily from behind me. Unlike my reflection, that comment did make me wince. It also made my cheeks heat up with embarrassment as I wondered how much my sister had seen and overheard. Undoubtedly, it had been far more than I would've liked. "Sorry," I squeaked, peeking back over my shoulder. Sitting up in bed, the older girl smirked at me. "That's alright, but if you're in the mood to hand out apologies, I wouldn't mind one for you getting so damn hot. You're makin' me jealous." Folding my arms, I shifted my gaze once more, not back to the mirror, but down at the ground. "Sorry ..." The apology earned me a laugh from my sister, followed by the creak of the bed as she stood up. "I wasn't serious, y'know, at least, not about the apology. I am starting to think I should head over to that winged lady's place and see if she'd be willing to give me some of whatever she did for you, though, 'cause damn, girl. Guys are gonna have a hard time around you, if you know what I mean." I could feel the slight pink in my cheeks shoot right up to a full on red. It didn't stop there, either, spreading outward to other parts of my face. By the time that expansion reached its end, I was pretty sure I could feel the tips of my ears burning. Reacting like that brought on a fit of giggles from Misha. "Aw, that's so adorable, you're blushing so bad I can still see it through that tan of yours." "It's embarrassing!" I huffed defensively. "How hot you are? Yeah, it is!" my sister shot back. Groaning, I buried my head in my hands. While that probably didn't do much to hide my reaction, it did let me feel just how hot my face was, which only made things worse. It was awful. "Uh uh, no hiding," Misha chastised as she came up next to me and grabbed my wrists to try to pry my hands away from my face. "You're the one that wanted to be a pretty girl, and part of that is dealing with compliments. Besides, guys are gonna say way dirtier things to you than I have." Rather than resist, I lifted my head to look up at the taller girl. "What? No, they won't." "Oh, come on!" my sister exclaimed incredulously. "You know how they are! You've been amongst them! They're animals! Sex on the brain, twenty-four seven! Even if they don't outright say everything that goes through their dirty little heads, they're still gonna be thinking it, and you're gonna know, 'cause it's not like they're subtle about it. They'll probably spend most of their time around you just trying to not get caught staring at your tits." "Th-They're not that bad," I denied weakly. If I was being honest, though, I knew the other girl was mostly right. Guys, even Jordan, talked about that kinda stuff a lot when they hung out. Sometimes, they'd even just blurt out things at cute girls that walked by. Both of which, I'd always found embarrassing, and now I wasn't going to just be an observer of such behavior but the focus of it. "You're right, it's not that bad, but not 'cause of them. They're horny idiots," Misha dismissed my arguments. "What makes it okay is that you're gonna want the attention." "What?!" I gasped, shaking my head. "No, I don't!" That reaction had my sister screwing up her face dubiously. "Really? 'Cause I've been around you and your 'friend' Jordan plenty, and I'm pretty sure you've had a huge crush on him since the day you two met." If I'd thought I was embarrassed before, it was nothing compared to the wave of utter humiliation that slammed into me at that moment. My jaw just dropped open, perhaps out of some desire to voice a counter- argument, but no words ever came out. It didn't even try to move to form them. What could I possibly say? Misha's face relaxed into a smug grin. "I'm right, aren't I? You're totally into him." "I, uh ... N-N- ..." I stuttered out some pitiful beginnings, but in the end, no sentence could form. The best I could manage was to bury my head in my hands again to hide. "Uh uh! What did I say about hiding!" the older girl chided, grabbing my wrists again to try to pry them away. This time, I actually put up a little resistance, but that didn't save me. In the end, my mask was pulled away, leaving me with no defense but to try to look away. That was no defense to my sister's follow up pressure of, "Come on! Admit it! You like him, like totally wanna be his girlfriend, like him." "Alright!" I blurted before adding more quietly. "Maybe, I do, sorta ... like him ... like that ..." "Obviously," my sister acknowledged matter-of-factly. "The question is, what are you gonna do about it?" "What?" I questioned in confusion. Misha rolled her eyes at me. "Jesus, girl, you're super hot, but you're not gonna get him by doing nothing. He's got a girlfriend, and you used to be a boy. He has no reason to even think about dating you." "But ... I don't ... I'm not ..." I stammered. "Ready? Too bad," the older girl interjected. "If you just slip back into being his bro, he's never gonna see you as anything else. You've gotta make it clear to him that things are different, now, that you're a girl and you want to be with him." "But, what if something goes wrong? What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if ..." I rattled off before trailing into a despondent sigh. "What if we stop being friends?" Smiling reassuringly, my sister rested her hands on my shoulders. "Look, I know it's scary, but you're just gonna make yourself miserable trying to stay near him when he's not interested. I know. I've tried that. I think you know it, too. I mean, has it actually be fun for you to have to hide how you feel for the last year?" "No ..." I admitted softly. "Of course not," Misha replied. "And it's not like I'm saying you have to torpedo your friendship either. You just need to make it so there's no way he can think of you as just 'one of the guys,' anymore." Nodding reluctantly, I asked. "Okay, how do I do that?" "Well ..." my sister began, grinning mischievously. "I have a few ideas ..." *********************************************** *********************************************** Chapter 28 "Are you sure about this?" I asked, voice full of the doubt I felt as I looked down at myself. The cause for my unease was the outfit that Misha had ... graciously provided for me. It had been pulled from her collection, items that were meant to be very tight, were actually too small for her, or fit in a way that their being a little too large wasn't an issue. In spite of those restrictions, it was a pretty complete ensemble. It started with a pale, yellow, tank top that had a deep, scooped neckline that showed a considerable amount of cleavage and very thin fabric. In fact, if not for a borrowed, and somewhat ill-fitting bra, my nipples would've poked right through the thing. As if that weren't enough to trouble my confidence, it was paired with a loose, white skirt, that left my legs bare from mid-thigh down. The combination proved to be an extremely overt advertisement of my recently gained femininity. Naturally, my sister, who was quite used to dressing in even more provocative attire than that, shared none of my uncertainty. "Of course! He'll definitely notice you in this." "That's what I'm worried about," I muttered, rubbing at my arm nervously. That didn't help much, mainly because I wasn't used to my arms being bare. Boy's t-shirts usually covered the bicep, but this tank top sure didn't, and that was the most innocuous piece of skin it was showing off. "Well then, stop," Misha retorted. "You have nothing to worry about. You're gorgeous." That pep talk did little to convince me, but I did capitulate with a mumbled, "Okay ..." Sighing, the older girl rolled her eyes at me. "Okay, enough of that. Stand up straight." "What?" I asked, looking up in confusion. "Stand up straight!" my sister barked. Instantly, I snapped upright, pushing my shoulders back and my chest out. I could feel the clothes I wore tighten about my bust from the action, which nearly made me huddle forward again. Only my sister's hand suddenly cupping my chin and pulling it up, so I was looking her in the eye, stopped me. "Now, listen carefully," Misha began commandingly. "You are not to slouch or mumble or avert your eyes or anything else like that. Confidence is attractive, and more importantly for you, it will also help tell everyone that sees you that you're not just comfortable with who you are now, but that you're happy like this. And you are happy, aren't you?" "Yes?" I answered weakly. "Oh god ... you've gotta do better than that," my sister groaned. "Say it like you mean it!" Taking a moment, I gathered myself up before finally pronouncing, "Yes!" with happiness and conviction. "There we go. Perfect," Misha replied. "Now, you're gonna fall apart again as soon as you see him, but don't let that get to you. If you can, try to focus on keeping the posture right. You can always just stay silent to avoid the stammering idiocy, but if you fold up and look away, you're just gonna come off as uncomfortable, which will make him uncertain of how to treat you. Don't let that happen. Understood?" I nodded quickly. "Got it." "Good, then get moving!" the older girl instructed, pointing toward the door. Following that gesture, I just looked at the exit for a moment, filled with doubt. I'd dressed in women's clothes before. I'd been out in the world as a girl before. I'd never done it all together, though. That wasn't to say that I hadn't wanted to. Quite the contrary, I'd dreamed of exactly that sort of thing many times. That didn't make reality any less terrifying, but it did give me the courage to take that first step. Getting moving, I quickly crossed the room, only to lose steam with every step. By the time I reached the door, I was nearing a stop, afraid of crossing the threshold, but I had enough momentum left to carry me beyond. It was out on the landing when I finally stopped, but that was far enough. For the first time in my life, I was dressed as a girl somewhere outside of the safety of Misha or my's bedroom. There was no one around, but I still expected something terrible to befall me. It was absurd, but my parents leaping out of some hiding place to scold me would've seemed perfectly within expectations at that moment. Nothing of the sort happened, however. A second passed, then I started moving again, regaining the steam that I'd lost. Down the stairs and across the house I went, reaching the front door. The barrier put a hitch in my step, but it wasn't enough to stop me. I went right out onto the porch, out into the world. Again, I stopped, looking around nervously. No one sprang out to shout, "Pussy!" or "Faggot!" at me, though. No one condemned my attire or anything else. The world didn't care, continuing to move on as if nothing momentous had happened. Strangely bolstered by that lack of response, I straightened up, making sure that I had my posture just like I'd been told to have it. "I can do this," I told myself under my breath, gave a quick nod, then started down the street to Jordan's house. *********************************************** *********************************************** Bing. Bong. The doorbell rang out inside Jordan's house as I reached down to grab the door handle. In a moment, the boy would tell me it was open, inviting me inside in the process, and I was eager to get to it. Well, it was more like I was riding a wave of courage and positivity from my sister's guidance and lack of rejection from the world, and I didn't want that wave to ebb while I waited. To my surprise, the boy called out something quite different, however, "Be right there!" Crinkling my brow in confusion, I let my hand fall from the door handle. When was the last time that my friend had actually come to the door when I visited? It had to have been months, not counting the previous day when I'd forced him to do so by not entering. Did it mean something? With those questions, the resolve from earlier was undermined. When the door opened a couple of seconds later, it was a weak, crumbling mess. Still, I tried to cling to it, to at least keep my posture like I'd been told. As I heard the sound of the door's latch clicking, I forced myself up straight and put a smile on my face. "Hey, I ju-" Jordan began as he pulled open the door, only to cut off mid word at the sight of me. That didn't mean that his mouth closed, though. No, it continued to hang there, wide open, as if he'd pick up his thought again at any moment. That wasn't the only aspect of him that seemed to suffer momentary paralysis either. If not for the way his eyes bulged, I would've thought him frozen in time. Already weakened, the sight of Jordan combined with his reaction shattered what remained of my confidence, just like Misha had predicted. Unconsciously, I crossed one arm in front of me to rub at the other while my gaze drifted down and away. "H-Hey," I stuttered awkwardly even as I felt my cheeks start to heat up. Some of that was embarrassment over how my friend was acting, but some of it was aimed at how I was acting. I knew better. I'd just gotten lessons in this. I needed to stop being such a coward and show that I was comfortable, happy, and interested. "Hey ..." Jordan parroted back, his voice sounding distant and dazed. I barely heard that word, so focused was I on beating back my cravin nature. I actually succeeded at it, too, forcing myself to straighten up and push back my shoulders. I was even about to put what I'd hoped would be a confident smile on my lips, when movement from the boy across from me caught my eye. It was subtle, just a slight flick of his eyes, but it made all the difference. They remained as wide and surprised as ever, but their focus had noticeably shifted. No longer did they take in my appearance as a whole, nor did they look me in the eyes. The last part was obvious, because we seemed to be the same height now, and his eyes were angled well down. Their focus was my outthrust and well-displayed cleavage. Again, my resolve took a hit, but I was so focused on following my sister's advice that my posture didn't buckle. Nope, I kept my boobs sticking out there to be stared at, even as that very attention assaulted my ego. Self-consciousness flared up in the form of a sudden and profound heat that permeated my face. To make matters even worse, the moment didn't end there. It dragged on, set against the emptiness of awkward silence. I wanted to break it, but I couldn't speak. Misha had told me not to, to focus on my presentation lest my true bumbling self spill out in all its stuttering glory. Unfortunately, my friend must've been given some sort of similar advice, because he just stood there, too. A painful second ticked by as he stared at my chest, looking no less stupefied than before it. Then, suddenly, it was too much to bear. "S-So!" I blurted, naturally stuttering just as I'd been trying to avoid. Thankfully, that one word was enough to shatter the moment. Instantly, Jordan's gaze jerked up, but only briefly met my eyes. Then, he was the one looking away with his cheeks starting to pinken noticeably. "Sorry, I, uh ... you didn't look so ... wow ..." Jordan stammered out, the words spewing forth with incredible speed as if he was trying to make up for his silence during the moments he'd spent staring at me. That response caused a new wave of embarrassment to hit me, but with the boy's stare broken, I had resolve to spare to beat it back. Instead, I chose to take it all as a compliment. It was proof of my femininity and beauty, after all. No boy would've never given me that sort of attention before. All of a sudden, I was something attractive, desirable, arousing. Whoops. That last thought went too far, breaking my confidence and forcing me to avert my eyes. I just couldn't look at Jordan while thinking of him having a ... male reaction, one that I had caused. "It's okay, I, uhm ... sorta ... felt like it was a little much," I mumbled out in apology. "I just thought I could ... nevermind. It was stupid. I look ridiculous, don't I?" "No!" my friend assured me. "I was just ... not expecting this ... so soon, I mean. I only just found out you'd ... changed, yesterday, and now you're in a skirt and showing so much ... girliness." "Is that bad?" I asked, peeking up at the boy hopefully. His gaze had turned back to me, causing our eyes to briefly meet. It took a moment for my question to hit Jordan. When he did, he looked away, reaching up to rub at the back of his head even as he shook it. "No, of course not. You wanted to be a girl, so of course you'd want to dress like a girl, too. That just makes sense. I'm the one being stupid. I should be happy for you. I am happy for you." Relief flooded me, causing a smile to involuntarily curl my lips. Having Jordan say something like that just made me so happy. Maybe he wasn't as perfect about all this as Misha, but his support meant so much more. I felt amazing. He was amazing. We would be amazing. In that moment, something welled up from within me to burst right out of my mouth, "I like you!" To be continued ....