Bikini Beach: Swim Date
By Ellie Dauber, (c) 2000

When Paul Kauffman asks Amy Bowlan out on a date, she asks himto take her to a certain water park she knows. Paul wants to get to know Amy better. Amy wants to get to know Paul better, but not in the same way.

* * * * *

This was my first Bikini Beach story, and the author's note below is what I wrote when it was originally posted.

This story was supposed to be a _short_ story, but getting Amy and Paula to behave and stop talking when I wanted them to was as hard as getting any other two teens to do what a grown-up told them. Since the point of the story was - well, you'll see what the point of the story was (I hope), I just stopped trying after a while, and let the story go where they seemed to want it.

Much thanks to Steve Zink, who was kind enough to get out of a sickbed (only, it wasn't sick, he was) and take a look at it. Steve tightened some stuff up, fixed a few errors, and added a couple of touches of his own that helped polish the edges.

Also, thanks to Elrod for his brochure of Bikini Beach. For good or for ill, it let me have the girls wander through the water park in much more detail (and a lot more words).

Bikini Beach - Swim Date
By Ellie Dauber, (c) 2000

“Hey, look,” Mack Reilly said. “Here comes that stuck-up Amy Bowlan.” He pointed at a pretty blonde, about 17, who had just come into the school cafeteria.

Paul Kauffman put down his coke and looked in the direction his friend was pointing. “Aw, I don't think she's stuck-up, man.”

“Then why won't she go out with anybody. She's either stuck-up or - hell, maybe she's a lesbie. You think?”

“Nah. She's new here, just moved in the week school opened. I think she's shy.”

“_You_ think she's sexy.” He thought for a moment, then smiled. “Hey, you're in a couple classes with her. Why don't you _show_ me how un-stuck-up she is? Go over and ask her for a date.”

“What?”

“A date. You know what they are. You've been on more than a few - or so you say.”

“You know I date. We've doubled a half dozen times easy.”

“Then go over and ask her for one. Or are you chicken?” Mack stuck his hands in his armpits and flapped a pair of imaginary wings.

Paul sighed. He definitely wanted to, but he'd been waiting until the right moment, until he sensed that Amy was beginning to feel more comfortable at her new school. No chance of that now. He stood up and walked over to the table where Amy was sitting. Alone.

“Umm, hi,” he said. She looked up. Lord, she was pretty.

“Yes?”

“I'm Paul, Paul Kauffman. I'm in Mr. Roth's English class with you; Ms. Collier's Social History class, too.” She smiled. She was even prettier when she smiled. It just seemed to light up her whole face.

“Oh, yeah. Hi, Paul.”

“I - I was wondering if you - if you might want to go out with me tomorrow night. Burgers and a movie, maybe.”

“Gee, at night? I don't know.”

“How about an afternoon movie, then burgers?”

“How about a swim?”

“What?” A voice in his head whispered 'skinny-dipping'. No, he couldn't be that lucky; besides, she hardly seemed like _that_ sort of girl.

“There's this water park, Bikini Beach, I've been wanting to go to.”

“Yeah, I've heard about it.” He'd seen the ads, too. Lots of pretty girls in really skimpy swimsuits.

“The problem is that it's way over across town. I don't drive, and my folks are still too busy settling in.”

He brightened. “I've got a car. My brother gave it to me when he went into the Navy.”

“Great. Can you pick me up about 10:30? We can make a day of it - get to know each other better.”

“Sounds good.” She gave him her address, an apartment complex about two miles from his own house, just as the bell ending lunch period rang. “See you later.”

“Yeah.” He watched her walking out towards her next class and found himself imagining what she was going to look like tomorrow in a swim suit. The suit got skimpier as he fantasized.

“Hey, man.” Mack slapped him on the back. “So, how'd you do?”

“I'm picking her up tomorrow morning. We're going swimming.”

Mack flashed Paul a “thumbs up”. “Cool. Let's just not get late for Trig thinking about her.” Mack handed Paul his backpack, and the pair ran toward the exit.

* * * * *

Paul arrived at Amy's place about 10:20. He wanted to make a good impression on her - and her parents, so he parked and knocked on the apartment door. A tall man in his late 30s answered. He was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, and his hair was pretty much the same color as Amy's. “Yes, may I help you?”

“Um, Mr. Bowlan? I'm Paul Kauffman. I go to school with Amy. She - umm - I'm taking her over to the water park for the day.”

“Oh, yes. She mentioned something about that.” He frowned. “She didn't say that she was going with a boy, though.”

“Shot down before it even begins,” Paul thought. Aloud he said, “is that a problem? Can Amy still go?”

“Oh. Let her go, Stan,” a woman's voice said. An older, darker haired version of Amy joined Mr. Bowlan at the door. “She dated back in Elmerton, you know.”

“I guess.” He opened the door wide enough to Paul to walk through. Paul went in, but he felt himself getting a stern once over as he walked into the apartment. He must have passed inspection, though. Mr. Bowlan smiled and shook his hand. “Hello, Paul. I'm Amy's father, as you probably guessed. That pretty meddler is her mother. Have a seat while she goes to tell Amy that you're here.”

“Thank you, sir.” He sat down on an overstuffed blue couch and looked around. There were a couple of chairs that matched the couch, all clustered around in one of those “conversation groupings”. A large TV with a VCR stood against the wall, positioned so it could be watched from the couch. There were some paintings, landscapes mostly on the walls.

They _were_ still settling in. He could see some boxes near a cupboard in the corner. Another box, crammed with papers, was on a large wooden dining room table next to a PC.

“Where are you two going?” Mr. Bowlan said as he sat down in a chair near the couch.

“Bikini Beach. It's a water park over on the other side of town, just across from those new condos that a developer, put up a few months ago.”

“Yes, I think I know where they are. So - you're going to spend the day looking at pretty girls and ignoring my daughter. Sounds like quite the first date.”

“Um - it was Amy's idea, Mr. Bowlan. I invited her to a movie, but she wanted to swim.”

“She's always loved the water. She was on the swim team at her old school; won her share of medals, too. Like to see them?”

“I guess.”

“Daddy, stop it. You're embarrassing me.” Amy and her mother came into the room. She was wearing a pair of pale brown slacks and a matching sleeveless top that really showed off her figure. Her hair was tied into some sort of ponytail. She was carrying a striped cotton bag with a towel sticking out the top.

“Hey, I'm your father. I'm _supposed_ to brag about you, honey.”

“I know, but you abuse the privilege.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and turned to Paul, giving him another of those wonderful smiles. “Hi, Paul. Are you ready to go - or do you want to stay here and listen to my father?”

“Tough choice. Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Bowlan. Bye.” He grinned back and stood up.

Amy came over and took Paul's arm. “Bye, folks. We'll try to be back before midnight.”

“You'll be back by eight, young lady,” Mr. Bowlan said, sounding quite serious, then he softened _a little_ and added, “Have a good time, honey.”

* * * * *

It was about a twenty-minute ride to Bikini Beach. They made small talk, mostly about the two classes they had together. It was a sunny day with the temperature expected to get into the mid-eighties, so the parking lot across from the entrance was fairly full by the time they pulled in. Paul found a spot near a marker pole and parked his car. He got his own swim bag out of the trunk, and they walked over to the entrance.

The line wasn't that long. A lot of people just showed a pass and walked through. Paul noticed that he was the only male in the line. Well, they did call it _Bikini_ Beach, and a lot of the women in line with him would look really great in bikinis. He looked at Amy, who stood next to him, holding his hand. She'd look better than the rest.

They finally got to the ticket booth. An old woman, kind of chunky, in a flowered blue dress, was sitting behind the counter. “Can I help you?”

“Um, hi,” Paul said. “How much are tickets?”

“We don't sell tickets, young man. This is a private park. We do sell passes, though, one day or longer.” She looked at Paul for a minute as if studying him, then she turned and looked closely at Amy. “Right now, we're having a special on weekend passes for two. If you're interested, the price is less than two individual one-day passes.” She named a figure. It was a bit more than Paul had expected, but he had more than enough to cover it.

“Done,” he said taking out his wallet. “Gee, Amy, I guess we'll have to come back here tomorrow to get full value out of these passes.” He said it with a smile, as if joking. He didn't want her to feel like he was rushing her, but he hoped that she'd want to come back with him on Sunday.

“I guess,” Amy said, smiling and looking down.

The old woman took the money and handed him the pass, a single ticket stamped “Weekend Pass: Good for Two” and today's date. As they walked past, the woman called after them, “Be sure to shower after you put on your suits. It's a health department regulation.”

The locker rooms were near the entrance. The “Ladies'“ was much larger, more proof that most of the park's patrons were women. Paul went into the “Men's”. He saw the expected: sets of lockers along the walls, a few benches, and the showers. He picked out an empty locker and changed into his suit.

Considering all the pretty women that he was expecting to see, Paul had brought along a pair of green-gray “baggies”. He put them on, slipped on a pair of beach sandals, and looked in a mirror near the door. He wasn't muscle-bound, but track and basketball, not to mention using his brother's weights, had left him fairly buff. He thought he looked pretty good, and he hoped that Amy would agree.

Paul was just about to head out into the park when he remembered what the old woman had said about the showers. Amy was a swimmer. She was used to showering before she went into the water, and she'd expect him to do the same.

He turned on the water. It was nice and hot, tingly against his skin. He closed his eyes and just stood there enjoying the sensation, turning slowly. He never noticed the slight pink mist that rose from the water.

He felt a little odd as he stepped out of the shower. Sometimes that happened when you stayed in too long, but he'd only been in for a couple minutes. He shrugged and started walking towards the door. He noticed that he was walking oddly, as if his center of gravity was shifting. He felt something on his chest, too, and there was a wetness on the back of his neck.

He stopped when he got near the door. There was a girl, a very pretty girl about his own age, standing there. She had a narrow waist and broad hips that were barely contained in the skimpy metallic green bikini bottom that she was wearing. And she wore only the bottom. Her breasts, nice and round, a B-cup at least, with big nipples were fully exposed. She had a kind of sexy smile on her face and thick, wet black hair that was plastered to her head and down around her back.

Then he realized that he was looking in the mirror that he'd been doing “muscleman” poses in a few minutes before. He looked down, and his hands shot to his chest - to his breasts. Holy Shit! He had breasts. _He_ was the girl in the mirror.

“Young woman, I don't allow people to go topless here.” It was the old woman from the gate. “Please put this on.” Suddenly, she had a bikini top in her hand. It was a perfect match for the piece that Paul was wearing.

Paul took it, and without thinking, put it on with an ease that should
not have been possible. “What - how?” She was surprised all the more
by the very feminine voice she heard.

“Magic. I created this park as an escape for young women who don't wish to be ogled. If a man chooses to come into the park, he becomes a woman for the duration of his pass.”

“You mean I'm going to be a girl....”

“Until tomorrow night. The magic wears off twelve hours after the expiration of your pass. You'll be yourself in time for school on Monday.”

“But my family, Amy, how do I explain it to them?”

“That's taken care of. You'll see how later. Right now, your friend is waiting for you.”

Paul would have liked to stay hidden in the locker room, but one look at the old woman told him that he didn't have that option. She took a gulp of air and walked through the door.

Amy was waiting for Paul outside. She was wearing a golden yellow lycra one-piece suit that glowed in the sunshine, even without being wet. It had a lot more material in it than what she was wearing, but nobody would ever doubt that there was a girl inside. It hugged her curves and was cut high to show a lot of leg. It was cut a little low at the top, too. Nothing slutty, but you could see quite a bit of the cleavage. Did bathing suits have built in Wonder Bras?

Amy smiled and ran over and hugged him. “Oh, Paula, you turned out so pretty. I was afraid that you'd just look like Paul with long hair and a bit of a figure.”

“You knew this was going to happen?”

“Yes, I - I knew. Please don't be mad.”

“But why? I thought you liked me.”

“I do. I like you a lot, but, well, I had a lot of trouble with my last boyfriend. There was a lot of arguing, especially over sex. I didn't want to go through that again.”

“What are you going to do, turn every guy who wants to date you into a girl?”

“No, please, no. I like you. I've been hoping you'd ask me out. Only, well, I don't know you.”

“Know me? What's that got to do with anything?”

“Look, this is a fairly small town. You've grown up with most of the kids you know, most of the girls that you've dated. You knew each other since you were all little. You know what they're like, the kinds of persons they are.”

“So?”

“So, I don't have that advantage. I don't know you that way. And I can't get to know you that way in a dating situation. To be blunt, sex always gets in the way. Do you understand?”

“I guess so.” Paul wouldn't have minded sex with Amy getting in his way, but now she wasn't going to be uncool enough to push her about it. Still, she resented the suggestion that he'd been thinking with his “johnson”. Even if he had.

“Well, this way, it can't. I can get to know you as Paula, and you can get to know me without sex being a concern. You'll be Paul again on Monday. We'll be friends - I hope - by then, and we can see about dating if you still want. Is that so crazy?”

“Yes, it is, but I don't seem to have a choice; do I? How'd you find out about this place?”

“I haven't made many friends, but I have gotten to know a few of the girls. Let's just say that you aren't the first boy from our school to go swimming here.”

“Some other guy got changed for a weekend? Boy, he must have been embarrassed if he didn't say anything about it.”

“Not really. In fact, _she's_ the one who told me.”

“What! But how? I never heard of any guy at school getting permanently changed.”

“You'll find out about _that_ later.” She tugged at Paula's arm. “Right now, there's a water park here to explore. Let's go, _girl friend_.”

* * * * *

They headed down a trail past a sign that said “Wild River Fun? and were soon swimming in a large pool called the “Swimming Hole”. They raced across at the deep end of the pool, with Amy finishing well ahead of Paula. Paula claimed that she just wasn't used to her new female body, but Amy just splashed her and made a comment about how much better equipped she was now to do the breast stroke.

“I know how to stroke them,” Paula leered at her. “I'm just not used to having two of my own.” Amy splashed her again, and both girls giggled.

They tried the rope swing a few times. Paula surprised Amy by climbing part way up the rope and doing a very credible swan dive into the water. Then they just lay on the sand and talked.

It turned out that they had a few interests in common: folk music, mystery novels, and Abbott and Costello comedies. Amy had seen BUCK PRIVATES enough times to be able to quote lines of dialog. They giggled some more and broke into a two-part version of “Boogey Woogie Bugle Boy.”

By this time, it was mid afternoon, and they were both hungry. They had burgers and cokes at Port Landing, and both took a short nap right on the sand. Afterwards, they tried some of the raft rides.

Paula talked Amy into trying the Otter's Run Body Slide. She went first, squealing as she rode the water down. Amy splashed down just after her. “I think you forgot something,” she said. She giggled and handed Paula her bikini top as it floated by. Paula blushed and put it back around her, accustomed now to her feminine chest.

“That's why I wore a one piece,” Amy said. “We had a water park back in Elmerton - non-magical, though. Boys would always try to talk girls into going down the water slides just to see if their tops came off or anything popped out.”

Paula giggled. “Boys are like that, I guess.” She realized what she had said. “Hey, wait a minute, I'm a boy!”

“Not today, you aren't. Want to go again?”

“Let me just re-tie this top.” Paula didn't want to admit it, but she was having a great deal of fun. There was none of the sexual tension you usually had on a date. She was reacting with Amy, the same way that Paul would react on an afternoon hanging out with Mack, just two good friends out for a day of fun.

They went on Otter's Run a few more times, squealing as they slid. Paula found that she liked the rush of air on her body, especially her breasts. She also learned when to grab onto her top, so there were no more embarrassing moments. “Still,” she thought, “it's just us girls, so who cares if anybody sees.”

“Just us girls.” Paula hadn't really thought about it, but it was true. She was thinking like a girl. When she looked at some girl in a skimpy bikini, her only thoughts were how nice the bikini looked, how well it went - or didn't go - with the girl's coloring. Nothing about how sexy the girl looked lounging on the sand or splashing in the water.

She didn't even get interested when a tall curvy brunet splashed down into the pool at the end of Otter's Run next to them, and _her_ top came off. The girl must have been at least a D-cup, but Paula just swam over. She handed the girl her top and told her to hold on just before the last plunge to keep the top from coming off again.

“Thinking like a girl, Paula?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, and it bothers me. Or maybe it bothers me that it doesn't bother me.”

“Don't think about it. It's supposed to be that way.” She smiled, a sexy little smile. “Besides, you'll still have your memories on Monday when you're Paul again.”

“I guess.” Paula looked at the big clock over in the Landing Port. “Hey, it's after six. Maybe we should be heading back to your place.”

“Darn! I was enjoying myself.”

“So was I, but your father did say he wanted you home by eight. We can eat here or stop off for some pizza or something.”

“Let's just swim some more. We can stop off and get some pizza to eat at my place later.”

“Your place?”

“Sure. Paul and I had a date that was supposed to end around eight. Paula and I are having a sleep over at my place tonight.”

“A sleep over?”

“Sure. Just think, our first date and already we're sleeping together.” She giggled, and so did Paula in spite of herself.

* * * * *

They decided to look around at some of the other rides and wound up joining in a choose-up game of water volleyball. Paula used a couple of basketball tricks and scored the final point, spiking the ball down into the water. A couple of the other players went to Paul and Amy's school. Paul had even dated one of them, Mina Scorby. Only now Mina remembered going on a double date with Paula and some boy whose name Paula didn't recognize.

Paula was tempted to ask Mina some questions, but there wasn't time.

“We still have to be back at my house by eight,” Amy said. “And it's past seven, now. We'd better go change, Paula.” She giggled and looked at Paula. “Or is that a bad choice of words?”

Paula tried to look angry, but she found herself giggling again. With a sigh and a shrug, she followed Amy back to the locker rooms.

She went back to the locker that Paul had put his clothes in. Only, now, his jeans and T-shirt had changed into a wrap around skirt and sleeveless blouse, and there were a pink bra and panties in there on hooks with them.

Paula stepped into the panties and pulled them up around her hips, marveling at how different from a pair of boy's cotton briefs they felt. Then she leaned forward as she wrapped the strapless bra over her breasts. She hooked the bra behind her and adjusted her breasts within the cups. She did it naturally without even noticing.

She put on the blouse and wrapped the dress around her waist, fastening it with a pin. She stood in front of the mirror tucking in her blouse. The skirt was tight at the waist, showing off the curve of her hips, and it was cut short enough to show quite a bit of leg. She turned this way and that, enjoying how pretty she looked.

Then she frowned. Her hair was a mess from all that water. She looked in the locker again and found a purse on the small shelf inside. There was a hairbrush and some make-up inside, along with her wallet and car keys. She looked in the wallet. The driver's license still had the same information, except the name was “Paula? now, and the picture showed the way she currently looked.

She ran the brush through her hair, wincing as she tugged at a couple of snarls. Then, without even realizing that she was doing it, Paula applied lipstick and a little blush to her face. She smiled at her reflection. 'Much better,' she thought. She grabbed the purse and headed out to meet Amy.

Her car, an old Chevy, was parked where she left it. It looked like it had just been washed and waxed, though, something Paul didn't do very often. When Paula opened the trunk to put their swim bags away, she found a rolled up sleeping bag and a small suitcase that hadn't been there before.

“Like I said,” Amy told her, “Paula's spending the night.”

* * * * *

It was still only about 7:40 when they got off the expressway near Amy's house. “How about that pizza you mentioned,” Amy asked. “There's a pretty good place called “Papa Gino's? on the way to my place.”

“I know where it is,” Paula said. “Good pizza, too.” She drove to the restaurant, pulling into the lot.

There was a line, and the counterman said that there'd be about a fifteen minute wait. Amy used a pay phone to call home. Her mother gave her permission to be late provided she brought back a medium, extra cheese and mushrooms, for her parents. Amy agreed. The counterman added it to the medium, onions and ground beef that the girls had already ordered.

There were six chairs along the wall near the “Take-Out? Window. The two girls sat down to wait. A couple of boys from their school came in. Paula recognized them, Jack Stevens and Ted Fletcher, members of the football team. They were lettermen and seniors and among the most popular kids in the school.

Paula watched them as Jack paid for the pizza they had ordered earlier. She found herself noticing what a tight butt Jack had and how strong Ted looked in the “muscleman” shirt he was wearing. Then her eyes trailed down to his pants, or, rather, to the bulge at his groin. Her nipples were suddenly tingling, and she felt a pleasant warmness throughout her body.

Then she realized what she was thinking. She closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she saw that Ted was looking at her. He smiled and walked over. “Hey, Paula, I thought that was you.”

“Hi, Ted.” She didn't know what else to say. “That was a great game that you and Jack had against Westside last night.”

“I didn't know you followed football that much. Say, are you and your pretty friend here doing anything tonight. Jack and I were just driving around, and we'd _love_ to have some company.”

'Oh, jeez,' Paula thought. 'He's actually hitting on me.' The worst part was that some little bit of Paula wanted to go with the boys.

“Um, thanks but no, Ted,” she said aloud, as much to herself as to him. It's very tempting, but Amy - this is Amy Bowlan - she just moved to town a few weeks ago - Amy and I have other plans for tonight.” She found herself smiling and added. “Maybe another night.”

“Maybe. Nice to meet you, Amy. Welcome to town.” Jack had the pizza by now, and the pair walked out of the place. Paula saw them both take a look at her legs as they went out the door.

She shuddered and turned to Amy and whispered. “What just happened? Ted - he knew me.”

“Of course, he did,” Amy whispered back. “Paula Kauffman grew up in this town. I told you, it's magic. Everything's changed so everybody remembers Paula instead of Paul.”

“Everybody? Even my folks?”

“Sure. And I noticed that _you_ even seem to remember being Paula.”

“No. No I don't. I still remember growing up as a boy.”

“You sure weren't acting like one a few minutes ago. I saw the way you were looking at those two guys.”

“What! No, I wasn't.”

“We'll talk about it later. I think our order's ready.”

It was. Paula paid for the two pies and a bottle of diet coke. They left and quickly drove to Amy's house. Amy carried the two pizzas into the apartment, while Paula got out her bags. Amy's father came out and took the suitcase and sleeping bag, while Paula carried the two swim bags. Once they were inside, he gave Paula $10 to pay for the second pizza, refusing the change she offered.

* * * * *

A few minutes later, Paula and Amy were alone in Amy's bedroom. Paula took a quick look around. There was a white four-poster bed with a flowered cloth canopy against one wall. A matching high dresser with doors, an “armoire” Amy called it, was nearby with a lighted make-up table next to it. A desk cluttered with papers and a few rolled-up posters was against the wall next to a large curtained window. There was a mirrored closet door set in one wall, with another, partly opened into a bathroom on the opposite wall. It was the sort of room any girl would like. Paula felt herself feeling a little envious, remembering Paul's room at home.

There was a cot set up by Amy's desk with the sleeping bag on top of it, and the suitcase leaning next to it. The pizza, soda, and paper plates, napkins, and cups were on a small fold-up table next to Amy's bed.

Amy took the two bags into the bathroom, coming back a minute or so later. “I hung the suits up on the shower curtain rod to dry. That way, we can wear them when we go back to the beach tomorrow.”

“Back? Go back to Bikini Beach?”

“Sure, you said so this morning when you - or when Paul - bought the passes. They _are_ good for the whole weekend, you know.”

“Yeah, but if _this_ happened today,” she ran her arm down her body as if to point out how she'd changed. “What will happen to me tomorrow?”

“Not a thing. I asked. You'll be Paula, the Paula you are now, until you change back to Paul tomorrow night.”

“You're sure I'll change back?”

Amy held up the pass, which she'd stuck into her purse after they went into the park. “It says it's only a weekend pass.” She looked clinically at Paula. “Or do you want to make it longer?”

“No, no. Two days is more than long enough.”

“But you were enjoying it so much.”

“I'll admit that I enjoyed this afternoon, our time at the park. You were right. I think I know you better than most of the girls that I've dated, and I think that we're getting to be real friends.”

“I think so, too. Now, tell me, what did you think about what happened at Papa Gino's?”

“It was weird, damned weird. I - I was actually attracted to Ted.”

“Of course you were. He's a hunk.”

“Yeah, but he's a _guy_!”

“And right now, you're a girl, a heterosexual girl. It's natural for you to be attracted to boys.”

“No, no! I don't care what I look like. I'm a guy.”

“No, you aren't, Paula. Not until midnight tomorrow.” She paused for a moment, taking a bite of pizza. “Look, try something for me.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes.” Paula did. “Now, think of your - of Paul's - best friend. Picture him in your mind.”

Paula closed her eyes. Her best friend was Mack Reilly. She pictured him standing before her.

“Okay, Paula. Now strip him down. All the way. Nude. _Naked_.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. Mack stood naked in her mind. Paul had known Mack since they were both about five. They were in the same gym class. The image was both detailed and authentic.

“Now imagine that he's looking at you. He likes you. He's smiling.”

Paula saw the image of Mack smile as he turned towards her. He had a nice smile. She'd never really noticed that before. He was cute, too, with that mop of brown hair and those puppy dog eyes. Her eyes moved down to his body. It was slender, but muscled, a mat of brown curls on his chest. She liked that.

Paula found herself thinking about what it would be like to have those arms around her. Her nipples began to tingle again, and she felt warm all over. She felt her hand rise up and lightly touch her breast.

She continued to look at the image of Mack, his flat stomach and narrow waist. His - oh, my goodness - he was big, bigger than she remembered. She felt her breathing getting a little irregular. The warmth seemed to be concentrating in her groin. She -

“No! I'm a guy, dammit, a guy!” She opened her eyes even as they began to fill with tears. “Why did you do that to me?”

Amy came over and put her arms around her. Paula felt their breasts touching, but she felt comforted, rather than aroused.

“Oh, Paula,” Amy said. “I'm sorry, so sorry. You just seemed to be totally denying what had happened. I thought if I forced you to see just how female you had become....I'm sorry.”

Paula looked at Amy. Both girls were crying. “I guess...I guess I was denying it. Please don't do it again, though. I'm having enough trouble keeping my mind off guys.”

“They _are_ hard - oops - difficult - not to think about.” She giggled at her Freudian pun. “Now do you see why I wanted to get to know you as a girl first?”

“I guess. I'd never force myself on a girl, but I guess I can understand that the tension is always there.”

“It is. I don't want a boy who respects me - well, I do, really, but what I really want is a boy who respects me as a _friend_. One who wants to be with me because we're friends. If that friendship turns into something deeper, great. If it doesn't, well, at least we're still friends.”

“I think I'd like that, too. It'd be nice to know a girl who's there for me as a friend; not as a potential date or a potential mate, just a friend.”

“Then you forgive me?”

“I suppose.” She giggled and took a bite of pizza. “I hadn't realized how cute Mack was, though.”

They finished the pizza and talked on for several hours. Paula found out that Amy had been her state's junior female champion in the 100 and 200 meter freestyle. She wanted to keep on swimming, maybe even try out for the Olympics when she was older. She loved to travel and was thinking about majoring in French when she was in college, just so she could go live and work over there.

Amy found out that Paula loved to tinker with machinery. (Paula was happy that she hadn't changed as far as that was concerned.) She was already trying to decide what schools to apply to for a degree in mechanical engineering.

Not all the talk was serious, though. They talked about their school. Paula still had Paul's male memories, but she had a fairly good idea of what were the cliques among the girls. They compared notes on a number of their female classmates, and both were surprised at some of the things the other knew.

About midnight, Amy's mother came in and told them to get ready for bed. “I know you won't go to sleep right away. Don't talk all night, though. You'll be too tired in the morning. Besides, it isn't really a slumber party if you aren't in your nighties.” She kissed Amy on the cheek, then came over and did the same to Paula. “Goodnight, girls.”

“Goodnight,” they said in unison as Mrs. Bowlan closed the door behind them. Amy stood up and began to unbutton her blouse.

“What are you doing?” Paula said in surprise.

“Getting ready for bed like Mom said.” She looked at Paula. “Besides, we've already proved that you think like a girl. Why shouldn't we change clothes in front of each other?” She took off the blouse, tossing it into a hamper near the armoire. She was wearing a lacy yellow demi-bra - how the hell had Paula known that - that lifted her breasts making them look bigger than they were.

“But - I don't know - it just seems wrong somehow.” Paula didn't want to admit it, even to herself, but all she could think of was how nice the bra looked and wondering where Amy had gotten it. The fact that Amy was all but naked from the waist up didn't do anything to her emotionally. She did hope that she'd remember the view on Monday when she was Paul again.

“It isn't wrong; it's natural for _girls_.” She walked over and opened Paula's suitcase. “Oh, what a sweet nightie.” She held up a fluffy pink nightie with a long row of matching pearl buttons trailing down from the neck. It was cut short, probably five or six inches above the knee.

“Am I supposed to wear _that_?”

“Sure, unless you want to sleep in your undies?” She giggled. “Or do you sleep in the nude?”

“Me - but - umm - no. I guess that thing'll be okay.” She grabbed at the nightie.

“Fine, now take off that blouse and skirt. I've got some clothes here for you to try on.”

“Clothes? Girl's clothes?”

“Sure, just like the girl's clothes you're wearing. You try on something of mine, and I'll try on this outfit in your suitcase.” She lifted the case so Paula could see inside. There was a blue T-shirt with embroidered flowers on the sleeves and a matching pair of jeans folded up inside, a bra and panty set, also blue was lying on top of them. “Just part of the magic.”

Paula didn't know what else to do. She sighed, took off the blouse, and unpinned the skirt. She put them over the back of the chair at Amy's desk, while Amy looked through the armoire. Amy pulled out a hanger with a green and white dress. “I think this would look great on you, Paula.”

She handed it to Paula and took the outfit from the suitcase. They spent the next few minutes dressing. Paula knew somehow that she had to put her arms into the dress, then wriggle in down onto her body. It was tight at the waist and bust and clung to her body, showing her feminine curves to their best advantage. In spite of herself, Paula turned and posed for the mirror.

“You look great,” Amy said. “How about me?” She had on the blue T-shirt from the suitcase, but she'd put on the wrap around skirt that Paula had worn.

“Good, real, real good. That blouse really works with that skirt. I hadn't --?
Paula stopped. Hadn't what? She'd never see the clothes before.

“It's okay,” Amy said. “The magic just fills things in, so you can see what it's like to be a girl. It'll all go away tomorrow night.”

“I hope so.”

“It will. Now sit down and let me do your hair.”

Paula sat in the chair, trying hard not to fidget while Amy combed out her hair. Amy spent a while braiding it while they talked about what they'd done in the park that day. Both of them had noticed a tall redhead with an intriguing hairstyle, a coiled braid that looked a little like the way Ensign Rand had worn her hair in the original Start Trek. Paula's hair was long, halfway down her back, and Amy was going to try to recreate the style. Finally, she finished and let Paula turn and look at herself in the mirror.

“Oh, my gosh,” Paula said. “I look just like her.”

“Well, “Beam me up, Scotty,” and it looks good on you, too.”

“Yeah, but it looks so - well, so high maintenance. I'll sleep in it, but you can undo it in the morning.”

“Okay, but I think it looks good on you. I wish my hair was long enough to try it.” Amy's hair was cut short, just reaching to her shoulders.

There was a knock on the door. “It's after one? Are you two changed and ready for bed?” It was Mr. Bowlan.

“No, sir,” the two girls answered.

“Well, get ready.” It was Mrs. Bowlan. “I'm coming in there in ten minutes, and if you two aren't in your nighties, I'll - Stan and I will change you ourselves. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mom,” Amy said. “She means it,” she whispered to Paula.

“They wouldn't - I mean, your father wouldn't. Would he?”

“Probably not, but Mom's serious. We won't have to go straight to bed, but we'd better be in our nighties when she comes back.” She pulled the T-shirt over her head as she spoke.

Paula wriggled out of the dress and put it back on the hanger. It was a pretty dress, and she thought about asking to borrow it some time. Then she remembered that she'd be Paul again in less than twenty-four hours. With a sigh that surprised her, she hung it back in the closet.

Somehow she knew that she wouldn't need a bra with the nightie. She reached behind her and unclasped it as if she'd been wearing a bra for years. She wriggled into the nightie the same way. The buttons weren't easy, especially with a girl's longer fingernails, but she managed. Just as she was finishing, she heard an “Ahem” and turned.

“What do you think?” Amy said. She was wearing the proverbial babydoll nightie, a mass of almost transparent blue fluff that you could actually see her breasts through. It hung down just to her hips, the material partly concealing the matching thong panty.

“Wow! Where did you get that?” It was - she was - beautiful, and Paula dearly hoped that she'd remember _this_ sight on Monday. If _Paul_ did, he wouldn't have to buy _Penthouse_ again for the next few months.

“Victoria's Secret, my last birthday. You're the first person except for my folks to see it.”

“What do your parents think of it?” As far as _Paula_ was concerned, though, what she liked was how pretty it looked and how envious she was that her friend owned something that nice.

“Daddy _hates_ it. Mom says that a girl my age needs something like this to help her think about the woman she's becoming. It's a great moral booster, too, when I'm feeling clunky and unloved.”

“Well, it's beautiful.”

“Thanks, but I don't think you'll remember much about it on Monday.”

“What? I thought you said I'd remember everything about today.”

“Yeah, but how much would _Paul_ remember about the kind of PJs a male friend of his wore. Your mind will be making the same sort of adjustment.”

“It doesn't seem fair, somehow.”

“I guess not, but, who knows, Paul may get to see me in it some day.”

“Only if he's _really_ lucky.”

“Thank you, _Paula_. That's really sweet. You're a good friend.”

“So are you, Amy.” They hugged.

They were still hugging when there was another knock at the door. Amy opened it, hoping to embarrass her father. It was her mother. “Good girls. Amy, you're too big to have to change anyway.”

“Thanks, Mom. Do we have to go to bed right now?”

“No, but remember what I said about being sleepy in the morning. Please remember to wear a robe over that thing in the morning.” She turned to leave, but as she walked out the door, she turned back. “One other thing, Amy.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Remind me to check at Victoria's Secret the next time I'm out at the mall.” She winked. “I want to see if they have that nightie of yours in _my_ size.”

The two girls were giggling as Mrs. Bowlan walked out the door. They stayed up and talked for another hour or so. Then they decided that they were both tired, too tired. Paula unrolled her sleeping bag. There was a pillow tucked inside it. Amy turned on a nightlight in the bathroom. They got into their beds and were both asleep within five minutes.

* * * * *

The sun was shining in Paul's eyes. He woke up and blinked. Where was he? This wasn't his room. What was he wearing, and why did he feel some sort of weight on his chest. He looked down at his - no, at her breasts and remembered. She was still Paula, still spending the night with her new best friend, Amy.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” It was Amy. “I was wondering when you'd get up.”

“What time is it?”

“After ten. Splash some water on your face, and we'll have some breakfast.” She was still wearing the nightie, but she had a heavy cotton robe over it. “You like French toast?”

“Sure, do.”

“Good. You can help me make some. See you in five minutes.” She knotted the robe shut and headed out the door.

Paula joined her in the kitchen. Paul hadn't done much cooking, but the recipe was easy enough to follow. In a few minutes, they were both enjoying the results of their work. And with cinnamon and maple syrup, too.

They finished their breakfasts and washed the dishes. The Sunday paper was in the living room. They grabbed a few sections and headed back to Amy's bedroom.

Amy went in her bathroom to wash up. When she came out, she found Paula frowning. “What's the matter?” she asked.

“It's this damned spell. I started to read the Sports Section, but I found myself losing interest halfway through the first article.”

“I guess you're more of a girl than you need to be. Sorry.”

“It's okay, I guess. I'll grab the paper at home tonight and put it in my room. I can read it tomorrow when I'm Paul again.”

“Okay, and by way of apology, you can have the Comics first.”

“Thanks, what are you going to read?”

“The Sports Section.” She stuck out her tongue at Paula. “They report on swimming, too, you know.” She picked it up then put it down again. “Too bad there is no swimming this time of year to report on. Hand me the Home and Hearth Section, would you.”

Paula handed it to her, or rather hit her lightly over the head with it. Amy took the section, opened it, and began to read. “Hey, there's a bunch of sales at the Overbrook Mall. You want to go?”

“I thought we were going to go swimming.”

“There'll be time for that. The mall opens at noon on Sundays, and it's on the way to Bikini Beach. What do you say?”

“That you'll probably keep pestering me until I say “Yes”.”

* * * * *

They finished with the paper and dressed. Paula brought out their swim suits when she went in to brush her teeth. She packed her suitcase and rolled up the sleeping bag and pillow. They promised Amy's mother that they'd both have some lunch at the mall, since they'd had such a late breakfast. It was about 12:30 when Paula pulled into a parking space at the mall.

Amy lagged a little behind Paula as they walked to the mall entrance, pretending to be looking for something in her purse. Yesterday, she'd noticed that Paula still had a male walk. Today, Paula's walk was feminine, even a little sexy, her hips swaying back and forth as she walked. She caught up with Paula just outside the entrance.

A couple of mallrats, boys in their teens, were standing outside taking a last smoke before they went in. They'd watched the two girls approach. One of them, a skinny kid in a sweatshirt from their school smiled and opened the door. “Helllooo, ladies,” he said managing to get a leer into his voice.

“Gooodbyye, creep,” Paula responded automatically, startling both herself and Amy.

“Well,” Amy thought. “That was probably the best way to handle those two.” She'd run into them at school, a couple of sophomores who blamed an unappreciative world for their own lack of attractiveness.

“Gee, Paula,” she said. “That was great. How'd you know how to handle those two guys?”

“Experience, I guess. I should feel sorry for them, but they way they looked at us while we were walking up to the entrance - ugh! I felt kind of slimy.”

“They'll learn in time.”

“Maybe. I know them from when we were in Boy scouts together. Maybe, I'll just suggest that the best place to pick up girls is Bikini Beach. A day on the other end of the pick-up might be just what they need.”

“You wouldn't.” She giggled at the thought, they both did. Only Amy had a feeling that Paula might actually be considering it. “_Girl_, you are bad.”

“You know it. Now, which stores had those sales?” Before Amy could answer, they saw a group of girls looking through some racks of clothes outside an “Old Navy? outlet. “This must be the place,” Paula said, and they headed for the store.

They spent the next hour or so looking at clothes, trying them on, and trying to talk each other in buying this or that item. Paula surprised herself with her eye for color, settling on a blue-violet tank top that she switched for the blouse she was wearing. Amy bought a yellow scarf and a set of earrings in the shape of dolphins.

They stopped at the food court for lunch, a salad for Amy and a burger and fries for Paula. “I won't have this figure after tonight,” she said. “So I don't have to be as careful about it as you do.”

Their table was at the edge of the food court, and they watched shoppers go by while they ate. Paula found herself noticing some of the older mallrats. A couple of them were kind of cute, and she smiled back when one, a tall boy in a Westside varsity jacket, noticed her looking and smiled at her.

He took the smile as an invitation and came over to their table. “Hi, I'm Paul O'Donald. Do I know you girls?”

“I don't think so,” Amy said. “We're both new in town.”

“Welcome. We can always use more pretty girls hereabouts. Can I give you two the grand tour?”

Paula felt the same sort of warm feeling that she'd had the night before. Damn, now she was coming on to guys, and a Westsider, no less.

“Maybe another time. We, umm, we go to Central. Maybe you know my cousin, Ted Fletcher?”

The boy grimaced. Paula had noticed the football pin on his jacket and she remembered what Ted and Jack and the rest of the team had done to Westside two nights before. The rivalry between the two schools went back to her grandparents' days. “Fletcher! Yeah, I guess I know him. Nice to meet you girls.” He turned and strode away as dislike for the school replaced attraction to the students.

“That was short,” Amy said, “and not too sweet.”

“I'm sorry. I can cope in my mind with the idea that I'm interested in guys. I just can't, well, put the theory into practice.”

“No? Well, Paula, as soon as we finish with lunch, you and I are going to undergo the most intense experience known to womenkind.”

“I refuse to go trolling for boys.”

“Who said anything about boys? Honey, we're going shopping for lingerie.”

“I think I'd rather go trolling for boys.”

Ten minutes later, despite her protests, Paula was being dragged into the mall's Victoria's Secrets. An attractive salesgirl in her mid-twenties came over to them. “May I help you girls?”

“Yes,” Amy said. “My friend here just had a...um...growth spurt. On top, I mean. She needs to have her bra size re-measured.”

“Certainly. Come with me dear.” She took Paula by the arm and led her into one of the dressing rooms. Once they were inside, she picked up a cloth measuring tape. “Take your blouse and bra off please.”

Out of curiosity, Paula did what she was told. She'd never heard of measuring bra size. For the next twenty minutes, she discovered just what was involved in the process. “I never imagined being probed and measured like that,” she told Amy when they were finished.

“I thought you might like to know what it's like,” Amy giggled. “My mother says that, next to a gynie exam, it's about the most intimate thing that can happen to a woman.”

Before she could say anything else, the salesgirl came over to them. “You're a 32-B, dear, but the way you seem to be growing, I'd guess that you'll be a C-cup before next spring.” She held up a couple of bras, flimsy almost transparent things. “Here are a couple that should fit. Would you like to try them on?”

“Yes, let's,” Amy chimed in. “I've picked a couple myself.” She grabbed Paula's arm and pulled her back towards the dressing rooms.

Once they were inside, both girls stripped to the waist. Again, Paula felt no emotion over seeing Amy's breasts, and, by now, it no longer bothered here. She _was_ interested in the bras Amy had picked out. One was a lycra sportsbra in their school's colors. “It'll help me when I start jogging to strengthen my legs for swimming; so I don't jiggle when I jog-gle.” The other was a rather naughty number, underwire with sheer red lace. There were a few small lace flowers in each cup about where the nipple would be.

Paula put on one of the two the salesclerk had handed her, a silk and lace confection in pale lilac. It didn't seem like much, but her breasts felt secure and supported once she had it on. She liked the way it looked against her skin, too. The other was a bit naughty itself, a black lace “wonder bra? that made it look like she had C- or maybe even D-cups. She posed, hands on hips and chest thrust out in front of the mirror.

“Thinking of Mack?” Amy asked.

She hadn't been, but now the image from last night came back into Paula's mind. He was smiling, looking at her. He seemed to reach out and touch her. Yes, she felt his hand on her breast. She began to tingle again, the warmth concentrating in her breasts and her groin. And his fingers! She suddenly realized that those were _her_ fingers at her breast; touching them, rubbing a fingernail against the stiffening nipple. NO!

She looked over to see Amy, hand in front of her mouth, stifling a laugh. “I guess you're _really_ a girl now, Paula. Welcome to the club.”

“Thanks, but it's not a club that I really wanted to join.”

“Well, after today, you'll just be an honorary member. I'm taking the sportsbra. Are you buying either of those?”

“Yes, the lilac one, though I don't know why.”

“Because you like it. Cheer up, though, after tonight, it'll probably be back in the store, and you'll get your money back.”

“I guess so.” She looked at her watch. “It's almost three. Can we go swimming, now?”

“Sure, unless you want to buy another swim suit.”

“No, the one I've got will be fine.”

The girls paid for their new bras and walked back to the car. Paula noticed that a number of mallrats were watching them as they walked. She also noticed that she liked the way they were looking at her. Without realizing it, she put a little extra wiggle into her walk. 'It's a good thing she's changing back,' Amy thought. 'Little Paula is getting to be a bit of a tease.' She giggled to herself at the thought.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were back at Bikini Beach. The old woman was at the entrance gate and smiled when she saw them approaching. “Welcome back, Paula. Are you having a nice weekend?”

“Well, I'm certainly having an _interesting_ one,” Paula said.

They went inside and changed; this time both using the Ladies? Locker Room. They headed back for the Wild River area to try out some of the rides they had seen but not gone on the day before. They tried the raft rides, squealing as the rafts bounced and turned their way down the waterways. They decided that it was a good thing that they'd worn their swimsuits, since they tended to leave each ride sopping wet from all the splashing.

After a short rest and diet cokes on the veranda, they tried the Gold Rush Slide. It was a great deal of fun, even if Paula did lose her top on the way down. She re-tied it as if she'd been doing so forever, and they got back in line for another try.

Finally, they headed back to the Swimming Hole. They swam for a while, then had a couple sandwiches and just lay on the sand talking. Much too soon, they heard the announcement over the loudspeaker that it was “6 PM, and the park will be closing in a half hour.”

Paula stood up, brushing the dry sand off her body. “I hate to say it, and I don't know _how_ I know, but my folks are expecting me home by seven.”

Amy stood up. “We'd better go, then.” They were dry, so they tossed the borrowed towels that they'd been lying on into one of the hampers that were scattered around the park. There was a bit of line waiting to go into the Locker Room, but they made it in and changed.

Paula noticed one girl was looking around oddly at the others. When the girl, a petite blonde maybe all of thirteen, saw Paula looking at her, she turned her head and began fumbling at her suit. 'Another changee,' she thought.

After she finished dressing, she went over to the girl, who seemed to be trying to figure out why the buttons on her blouse were wrong. “Don't worry,” she whispered to the girl. “You'll get the hang of it by the time you change back.”

The girl began to sob. “I'm...I'm not changing back. My wife decided she'd rather have a demure daughter than a lecherous husband. She...she bought me a lifetime pass.” The girl looked down at her body for a moment, then back up at Paula. “The worst of it is, that I'm finding that I enjoy this new body. I'm even starting to forget what it was like being a man.”

Paula shuddered. That sobbing girl could have been her. She put a hand on the girl's shoulder. “I -- I didn't know. I'm sorry.”

The girl looked up at her. “Thanks. I guess I'll have to get used to it. Kathy, that's my wife, says the pass isn't returnable or refundable. I can't ever change back. I'm even starting to think to think of her as my mother instead of my wife.” She shrugged. “I guess I'm feeling a little better. Or maybe it doesn't bother me as much as it did.”

Paula shuddered again and left. Amy met her outside. The old woman was with her. “I heard you talking to Sally,” the old woman said. “It was very kind of you to try to comfort her.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“In a day or so, she won't even remember having been an adult male. Her original identity is now her father - her late father actually; in this new reality, he died some time back.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you were kind to her when you didn't have to be, and because you needed to know that things could have been a lot worse.” She looked at her watch. “But it's getting late, and you have to go. I hope you enjoyed the park.”

“I did - and I have to admit that I enjoyed the weekend, too.”

“Goodbye then. Oh, and if you'd like, you can tell those two boys at the mall to try the park. Just don't warn them.”

“I wouldn't -- warn them, that is. I think they could use the park.” She giggled at the thought of those two pests changing into lovely young women. “Bye.” It wasn't until after she'd turned away that Paula wondered how the old woman knew about the two mall rats.

The girls headed back to the car. Paula drove most of the way back to Amy's in silence. Both of them were thinking about the weekend.

“There's the complex,” Amy said as they neared the driveway. “I'm...I'm glad you enjoyed the weekend.”

“So am I. I think I even made a friend.”

Amy smiled. “Can I call you later?”

“I guess. Just do it before nine. My folks don't like calls after that time.”

“Okay. Oh, here's my building. Thanks for everything.”

Paula parked the car. She got Amy's packages out of the trunk and watched her go into her apartment. Amy stood just inside the doorway and waved as Paula drove away.

Ten minutes later, Paula pulled up in the driveway of her own house. Her father, a balding man in his forties was sitting on the patio next to the driveway, reading a magazine. Paula realized that she hadn't given any thought to explaining her transformation.

Her father stood up and walked over to the car. “Hi, honey,” he said. “Did you have a good time with your new friend - what was her name - Amy.” Evidently, his memory was changed to reflect Paula's new reality.

“Oh, yes, I did. Thanks, umm, Daddy.” Paula got out of the car and opened the trunk again.

“Here, let me help you with that,” her father said. He took the suitcase and sleeping bag, while Paula grabbed her swim bag and the two packages from the mall.

“Shopping again, eh,” her father said with a mock sigh. “You'll be the best dressed girl in the poorhouse.”

Paula smiled and went inside. Her mother was watching TV. “Hi, honey,” she said, as oblivious to the transformation as her husband had been. “Did you have dinner, or do you need me to fix you something?”

“No, Mom. We ate in the park.”

“What park was that?” he father said coming out of her room.

“Bikini Beach. We bought a couple of weekend passes.”

“I've heard about that place. Maybe we should all go next weekend.”

Her mother scowled. “Frank Kauffman, if you think I want to spend a day watching you looking at pretty girls in bikinis, you've got another think coming.”

“Aw, Joan. You know that when I'm with you, there _are_ no other girls.” He leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead.

“Stuff and nonsense, but thank you for saying so.” She smiled. “Still, I don't think I'll take any chances. Paula can be the one who goes to Bikini Beach. Only now, the only place she's going is in to finish whatever homework she has this weekend. Scoot, girl. I'll hang up your suit.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Paula headed for her room. She'd had a fright when her father had suggested going to the beach, and she was very relieved that her mother had shot down the idea.

She was even more relieved to discover that Paula had finished most of her homework in the study hall, just as Paul had done. She hadn't been sure if that would change. All that was left was to review her Social History notes for the scheduled quiz on Monday and go through her French vocabulary one more time. She was wrestling with French verb tenses when she heard the phone ring. A moment later, her mother yelled, “Paula, it's for you.”

Her room had been transformed, as well. She was stretched across a bed with a pale pink spread covered with tiny roses. The Brittany Spears poster on the wall next to the bed was replaced with one of Ben Affleck. She jumped from the bed and headed out the door. One of the few things that hadn't changed was the JarJar Binks dartboard hanging from the door. She heard it slam as she hurriedly shut the door behind her and ran downstairs to the phone, wondering who was calling. “Hello?”

“Hi, Paula. It's me, Amy. I just wanted to talk a little more about the weekend.”

“Hi, Amy. I had a hunch you might call. It was a - well, a strange weekend, but I enjoyed it, I think.”

“You forgive me, then?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I understand why you did it, at least.”

“Then we're still friends?”

“Sure. Good friends, too, I hope.”

“What about the, um, other thing, the, ah, date we talked about.”

“I don't know. I - I can't talk for Paul. Can we talk about it tomorrow at school tomorrow?”

“Okay, I understand. To quote an old joke, “aside from that one problem, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Aside from, well, from what happened in the locker room when we first got to the park, what did you think about the weekend?”

Paula realized that Amy wasn't being obvious because her parents might be listening. She thought about the weekend. It _had_ been fun, she admitted to herself. The two girls spent a good forty-five minutes talking about the water park, volleyball, and the problems of bikinis on waterslides. They giggled at the way Ted and Jack had tried to pick them up at the Papa Gino's, and how they had chased off that guy from Westside at the mall.

They'd have talked longer, but it was getting late. Both sets of parents eventually chased them off the phone. Paula promised to talk to Amy in school the next day at lunch. She headed back upstairs and stripped for bed. It was a warm night, so she decided to sleep in her bra and panties. She crawled under the bed and fell asleep in a few minutes.

* * * * *

The alarm woke Paul at 7:30. He smiled looking at his hairy arm and at the undershirt and shorts he was wearing. The bulge in his shorts said that _everything_ was back to normal. He showered, dressed, and headed down for breakfast.

* * * * *

Lunch period took forever to arrive. As usual, he was eating with Mack. As far as his friend was concerned, as far as the world was concerned, he'd had a date with Amy on Saturday, then spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with Mack doing nothing in particular. Even Mack was vague about what they'd done.

Mack saw Amy first. “Hey, here comes your new girlfriend. Gonna go over and talk to her for a bit?”

“Yeah. I'll see you later.” Paul walked over to where Amy was sitting with Jennie Haller and Lucy Potts. “Hi, Amy. Can I - um - can I talk to you?” He looked at the two other girls. “In private.”

“Well, I can tell when we're not wanted,” Jennie said with a smile. “If you're going to talk to Amy, I think I'll go talk to Mack. You coming, Lucy?” The two girls stood and walked over to where Mack was sitting. Paul watched them, wondering if either were the transformed boy Amy had mentioned on Saturday.

When Paul sat down, he noticed that Amy was wearing the blouse that Paula had bought the day before. “Nice blouse.”

“Thanks. It was in my closet this morning. So was that bra you bought.”

“It looks good on you.” He paused. “Look, about the weekend.”

“Yes.” She looked like she was bracing herself for bad news.

“I can think of a lot of other ways I'd have wanted to spend the weekend, but in a way it was worth it.”

“It was?”

“Yep. I made a new, very good friend.” He took her hand in his. “And a girlfriend, too, I hope. Would you like to go to a movie with me this Friday?”

Amy brightened. “Oh, yes. I'd love to.”

“Great, I'll call you up later and we can talk about it some more.”

“I'd love to.” She stood up. “Right now, I guess we'd better go to class.”

“I guess.”

“Paul, can I tell you something, something confidential?”

“Sure, that's what friends are for.”

“I like you. I like you a lot, and I'm glad that you still want to date me. But to tell the truth, I think I'll miss Paula just a little.”

“No, you won't.”

“Yes, I will. Wait a minute, what do you mean?”

“I like being Paul. I'm used to him in ways that I'll never get used to Paula, but I did enjoy the time we spent together this weekend. I figure that if I'm careful with my money - if I take that part-time job at his store that my Dad offered me last week.... Anyway, I figure that I can afford a one-day pass about once a month or so, maybe even a weekend pass once in a while. You quoted a movie or two at me, so let me quote one at you: “_She'll_ be back!”?

The End