A Change of Perspective

by Optimizer

Foreword:

There's an element of the original story that squicks me on not just an aesthetic but a moral level. I came that close to retconning it out. But ultimately I decided it had to be there. I still find it rather creepy, even in a fantasy, but if I'm willing to posit magic I guess other impossibilities aren't so much of a stretch.

Just don't imagine an author condones, or enjoys, everything that happens in their stories.

Part 2

The tenuous confidence she'd been feeling had nearly fled by the morning of the big day. Erica picked her way blearily through breakfast. Restful sleep had been in short supply last night, which only added to her anxiety. The low, dark clouds in the sky outside completed a portrait of foreboding.

"You look wonderful, punkin," Miranda said as she sat down at the table. "That's a beautiful outfit, good choice."

"Thanks," Erica growled, experiencing a flash of resentment at her Mother, who'd made going back to school excruciatingly tense instead of just annoyingly tedious.

"Erica. Look here." Her eyes slewed to her Mother's. "I know you're a little frightened. Anything new can be scary. But you can do this." She smiled. "It's not a crisis, just a new challenge. You've never shrunk from those, and I've always been proud of you for that."

"What's the big deal, anyway? What's wrong with being a girl?" Haylie piped in, unhelpfully trying to be helpful.

"It's not the same. You've always been a girl," Erica snapped. Haylie seemed on the verge of retorting, but quieted down with a thoughtful look instead.

Miranda broke in. "Truly, Erica, I think you'll be surprised. Not just by what's changed, but what hasn't."

Now Erica looked thoughtful, too.

~~~~~

By lunchtime, Erica had some idea what her Mom had been getting at. High school was still high school. The same people she knew were mostly doing the same things. To a very large extent, it was only her angle on it that had changed.

And yet, as with so much in life, the angle you viewed things from mattered. The same baseball game observed from the bleachers was a different experience than from behind home plate. You picked up on different things watching a play from the audience or backstage. She had a profoundly enhanced understanding of girl's behavior now, and saw many subtleties of manner she'd never noticed before. And boys... that was even stranger. She saw them from the vantage point of an outsider, now.

Much of their antics seemed somehow... immature. Big, boisterous, unrefined creatures, many of them. Swaggering, posturing, noisy. And, ultimately, simpler. Not stupid necessarily, but... more focused, less complex. As a boy, he'd considered that a mark of male superiority over the needless complications women seemed to manufacture. Erica now wondered - gingerly, tenderly - if, just perhaps, the male perspective could be... limiting.

Classes hadn't been too different so far. Maybe she wasn't called on as often as before, but since she was striving valiantly to be inconspicuous, that didn't necessarily mean anything.

Sitting herself at an unoccupied table, she got out her lunch. High school was still high school; it could be lonely at the best of times, and she didn't have any friends now. Everyone who'd known her as Eric seemed to know her still, but in an 'acquaintance' sort of way. No strong impressions for good or ill.

Many things had changed, of course. The bus ride in to school had been surreal. Boys had walked past the empty seat next to her, being polite except for the glances at her boobs, and then another girl had just nodded and sat next to her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Boys themselves might not have changed, but the way they responded to her had altered drastically. The glances and stares she'd begun to expect, but the occasional half-overheard remarks and snickers were disconcerting. And she didn't remember being 'accidentally' brushed against nearly as often when she'd been Eric.

Seeing the various public displays of affection by couples out in front of the school as she walked in produced a deeply bifurcated feeling. Eric had been single most of the time, and she still felt jealous of people with significant others. And she still checked out the girls for hotness, and tried to evaluate from their behavior how physical any relationship was. Yet she couldn't help wondering about the feelings and motivations of the girls. Eric had many times pondered those, too - but solely with an eye to manipulating them as best he could. Erica needed to comprehend their desires and thought processes for enormously more complicated reasons.

All these reflections and more whirled in her head as she ate. At least, she told herself, the day was half over. Hopefully the biggest surprises were past.

Once she'd finished eating, she threw out her trash and went to the bathroom - the correct one for her new gender, thankfully. She had to wait a moment, all the stalls were full. Girls talked more in the bathroom than boys, she'd learned. Eventually a place opened and she took care of things, making sure not to wrinkle her skirt. It was good to be shielded from view for a moment, to have a semblance of solitude... but other girls were waiting and she left the sanctuary of the stall to clean up.

Washing her hands, she checked her hair and clothes in the mirror, which was becoming a habit. Right or wrong, appearance was more important for a girl's social status than a boy's, and she needed to at least maintain what little standing she had. At first she barely noticed the girl who took the sink next to her, until recognition hit.

Erica finally caught herself staring at Ashley and jerked her eyes back to her own reflection. She'd been Eric's first, and only. It had been a weird and wonderful night, and Erica found she still felt something. A boy never forgets his first girl, they said, and apparently that held even if he became a girl later. What did Ashley remember doing that summer night? Certainly not anything to do with Erica; she had no sense that Ashley had any of that kind of interest in girls.

Would Ashley miss the memory? Eric had felt a little guilty about it, even at the time. She'd been pretty tipsy, and after... Erica cut her thoughts short.

She wrapped up swiftly and hurried away, tangled in a knot of unfathomable emotions. Making her way through the crowd to her locker she worked to calm down. The breathing exercises her Mother had begun to teach in the 'intro to Magic' lessons helped her to center a little.

As the afternoon wore on she discovered that there were advantages to lacking a penis. She wasn't glad it was gone, but in the locker room before phys ed, she found herself extremely grateful that it was no longer quite so obvious when she was turned on. All those girls, naked or half-naked... The shower after was worse. Sweaty wet girlflesh everywhere, hands sliding all over... She had to constantly rein in her wandering eyes.

Computer class was a welcome respite. Her school had an Advanced Placement programming track and she'd lapped it up. Or Eric had... Leaving that aside, it was organized into different projects, with extra-credit options and challenges, and the students formed small teams to work on them. She'd... he'd... well, whatever... been part of a tight-knit group with three other classmates, and they'd stuck together because they collaborated well.

Although Josh Wright and Scott Charboneau mostly liked graphics and sound programming, they were quite happy to do whatever plumbing was required for a project. Erica... well, Eric... and Cory Ellsworth had been more the 'architects' of the group, usually designing and planning the overall approach, and writing the more complex stretches of code. Cory had also acted as 'project manager' of sorts, being a more organized type.

She sat down next to the boys as they were talking. Immediately they dropped their conversation and turned to her. "Hey, Erica," Josh said, rather eagerly. He'd always been a big guy, but now he dwarfed her. "How was your summer? Do anything chill?" His eyes roamed as he asked, moving lower.

"Not really," she replied, wondering what they'd think of the truth. "Just, y'know, hung out at home, mostly. You guys?"

Scotty spoke up. "Did you see my Facebook album? We went to Yosemite for a week, did some rock climbing. It was tight, we saw a van that got ripped open by a bear."

"Yeah, that was sick." She turned to Cory. "How 'bout you?"

He took just a beat too long to answer her. He'd been looking at her funny since she walked in the door. "Nothing much. Couple trips with the fam, but no bears." His eyes wrinkled just a bit as he regarded her.

Erica was a little disappointed. Cory had been a friend since grade school. He'd lived one street over from her back then. They'd drifted apart when his parents moved across town, but reconnected somewhat upon meeting again in high school. They'd never been as close as when they were kids, or really bonded over much beyond their shared passion for programming, but he seemed much more distant now. Was her being a girl that unbridgeable a gulf to him?

Class began then, putting her concerns on the back burner. She was somehow gratified to confirm that she still liked computers, that there were still parts of herself that hadn't changed.

~~~~~

The wave of relief that rocked her as she stepped off the bus was frankly unbelievable. She just stood there as it pulled away, hardly able to breathe. Only when the bus had turned the corner did she find the will to move.

Walking home, the thought came that this was the first time she'd been really alone since the Transformation. Her Mother had been no more than a few rooms away since that night - usually closer - and then at school she'd been immersed in people. She took her time, sauntering, just trying to digest the whole portentous day.

All in all, it hadn't gone badly. Despite the countless worst-case scenarios she'd spun in her head, the only real mistake she could think of had been turning the wrong way to go to the showers; the layout of the girl's locker room was the reverse of the boy's. She was fairly confident nobody would deduce that she was a boy Magically Transformed into a girl from that. As if in affirmation, the overcast had gradually dissolved over the course of the day and she now walked in bright, cheery sunlight.

In a reflective mood, she pondered the Transformation itself. It really had turned out to be an adventure. And if it had been nerve-wracking at times, it had also come with upsides. The orgasms by themselves were nearly worth the price of admission. She looked forward to tonight in bed, when she'd be able to properly meditate on what she'd observed in that shower.

There were other good points, too. Fashion and makeup and jewelry were fiendishly complex. Sleeves alone had endless variants; ruffle caps, pleated caps, smooth caps... short, half-length, three-quarter length, full length... and at least a dozen different types of neckline... Still, when you found a good look, it was even more satisfying in some ways than solving a tricky math problem, and it usually had more practical effect in day-to-day life. The new closeness she'd felt to her Mother and sister of late was something to be cherished, as well; she hoped it wouldn't go away entirely when Eric walked the Earth once more.

Of course there were plenty of annoying social restrictions on dress and behavior that came with being a girl... but there were certain kinds of freedom, too. Guys weren't allowed be too outwardly emotional, except about being aggressive. Anything else was taboo; at best, you'd be called mushy. At worst, you'd get your ass kicked. She wondered if her feelings were closer to the surface these days because of female hormones... or if it were just that she felt allowed to express a wider range of them. And were they more intense because of that? Had Eric simply felt less, or was it impossible to regulate and hide emotion without deadening it to a degree?

Miranda peeked out from the curtains, watching Erica's dawdling approach. Sending her new daughter off to school that morning had probably been more nerve-wracking than when she'd sent toddler Eric off to preschool. She felt so proud as she snooped into Erica's emotions a bit, and saw that the girl was holding up well.

At last she made it through the front door. Miranda couldn't help pouncing. "So, how'd it go, honey? Everything okay?"

Erica sighed. Not sad; more amused. Miranda cheered inside. "It went okay, Mom. I don't think I did anything too stupid, and it was mostly the same. Just like you said."

"Oh, sweetie, that's great!" She swept up her daughter in a big hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

Haylie was already home from school and came to the door. "So how was it, big sis?" she teased. But it was gentle teasing. "Got a boyfriend yet?"

Erica raised her arm as if to backhand her little sister, but she was smiling. "Why, I oughta..." Though her Brooklyn accent was muddled, they'd watched enough Three Stooges as a family that the reference was conveyed.

Erica was warmly but extensively debriefed as they made dinner. She left out the part about Ashley, of course... but it really did help to talk things over with her family.

While they were setting the table, she got to computer class, and Cory's behavior. "He was so... distant. Like he didn't want anything to do with me."

"Boys hate it when you're better'n them. Or even as good as them," Haylie pronounced with authority.

Erica squinted dubiously. "I dunno. He wasn't like that before, with Mindy or Sunny. The other geek girls." At Miranda's raised eyebrow, she paused to consider. "Well, not that I ever noticed..."

Miranda just shrugged. "Would Eric have noticed?"

She was quiet for a few moments, arranging napkins. "Maybe not," she admitted. Eric had been blind to so much...

Over dinner, Haylie reported on her first day back. Erica listened to tales of grade-school alliances and intrigue sprinkled with fashion critiques, trying to put aside her own issues for a while.

Miranda seemed content to let her be with her thoughts. Not that her Mother ignored her completely. "Uh oh, our little piggie here is trying to sneak a third helping!"

Erica ignored the teasing, and focused on savoring the meal. According to Mom, most Sisters tended to put on weight in the first months of a Transition, used to feeding a teenage male appetite. Women's bodies were much more aggressive about storing away fat. Oh, well, she'd run a few more laps tomorrow in penance.

~~~~~

Cheerleading proved to be much more challenging than Erica had ever imagined. It wasn't just 'jumping around waving pom-poms'. It involved rigid timing and precise choreography, balance, and endurance - all while looking and sounding excited and enthusiastic.

At that, the standards weren't even as high as they might have been. Eavesdropping, she learned that many schools took cheerleading far more seriously, with tryouts in the spring and training camps in the summer. She would have had no chance at all in such a program.

She still wasn't sure if she wanted to be on the team... but Erica had decided it would be her choice. She'd be damned if she wasn't on the squad because she couldn't hack it.

Two different guys had already asked her out, and it'd only been a week. Flustered, she'd turned them away as gently as she could. She knew how hard it had been for Eric to approach girls, and how it felt to be rejected. It made her wonder how many girls realized the power they had in that respect. Of course, that power depended a lot on the willingness of boys to accept 'No'...

Academically, there were no real revelations. She was a good student and she could discern no changes in her native capacities on an intellectual level. The social milieu of school took up more of her attention than before, of course, but not to the point of interfering with her studies. In some ways it was even easier to be a 'brainy' girl than a boy - especially if you wanted to scare away the less ambitious boys.

In science class, she got paired with Linda Fletcher, mostly by default - they each lacked friends in class. Linda was shy, somewhat overweight and acne-ridden, and frankly didn't dress as well as Erica already did. Eric had overlooked her as much as everyone else. But Erica quickly learned she wasn't at all stupid, and she had a quirky sense of humor once you got to know her a little. They didn't have any other classes in common, but they ended up sitting together at lunch most days.

It was nice to have a friend, or at least a potential one.

~~~~~

Even just watching TV brought near-constant reminders of her new situation. It was amazing how many commercials were gender-specific. Eric had completely tuned out the pitches for cosmetics and maxi-pads, and never noticed how virtually every single household cleaning and laundry ad showed actresses using the products, not actors. Same with groceries. In commercial-land, girls never did lawn care or ran a barbecue or did auto maintenance - or anything technical, really.

The magazines at the grocery store looked different through the lens of her new gender. She'd never noticed that both men's and women's magazines usually had pretty women on the cover. And women's magazines were about guys far more than men's were about women. Or rather, women's periodicals wrote about relationships with men, their psychology. Guys magazines primarily discussed women in terms of their bodies.

She increasingly wondered if maybe guys really did tend to be that shallow. Eric hadn't been a dick, but he'd never really understood women... until he'd been forced to as Erica.

~~~~~

The post-dinner routine was in full swing. Erica was putting away the last of the dishes while Haylie sorted the silverware. Miranda wiped off the kitchen table. She spoke to Erica. "After you've got your homework done, I think we should have another look at your wardrobe. See if we can plan what else we'll need to buy."

A clang as spoons and knives clattered to the floor. Haylie was suddenly angry. "We were gonna work on my report!"

Miranda was taken aback. "We will, honey, I just need to spend some time with Erica first..."

"Everything is all about Erica now! She gets new clothes and makeup and shoes and everything. You're always showing her how to do her hair or how to dance or how to do Magic!"

"Haylie, please. It's okay. You know I love you!" Miranda was talking in soothing tones. "Erica needs a lot of support right now. She has to learn so many things you already know..."

Haylie just balled her hands into fists. "She gets everything, just like that! You use Magic and she's got that body and that face." She waved in Erica's direction. "Amy says her brother says all the boys at his school are talking about her. One month as a girl and she's a cheerleader!"

'All the boys' are after me? Erica tried to parse that. "I'm not on the squad yet," she started to say, sheepishly. But Haylie kept going.

"I don't get Magic like that. One night and she's beautiful! But I won't get Transformed! I'll never be as pretty as her!" she yelled, now crying.

Erica felt a stab of guilt. It had never occurred to her that she had things that other girls - that Haylie - really wanted, dreamed of. A lot of things had been just handed to her... and she suddenly wondered if she appreciated that as much as she should.

"No, you will be pretty like Haylie," Miranda said forcefully, reaching forward and seizing the girl in a hug. "You're already a beautiful girl, you're going to become a beautiful, Magical young woman. Sooner than you think, and sooner than I'm ready for."

Haylie was still sniffling, but she accepted Miranda's embrace. Erica stepped forward and hugged her, too.

"Haylie, don't worry, you're gonna be a knockout," she said. "It's... huh. I'm trying to figure out how to say this." She thought carefully as Haylie looked up curiously, starting to forget to cry. "Even when I was Eric I always knew you were gonna be a really pretty woman." At Haylie's sudden squint, she said quickly, "No, not in a creepy way! Eww!"

All the Jardin women had a good laugh, which cleared the air a little. "It actually made me, like, nervous when I thought about it. It's like, I was your big brother, and I thought it was my job to protect you. I mean, I knew what boys were like. I knew they'd be all over you."

Only a giggle this time, but it still was amusing. Haylie asked, "What do you think now?"

Erica stooped down and looked her sister in the eye and smiled, eyes watering a little. "Now, I'm worried you're going to be prettier than me." That got yet another giggle. "I'm still gonna have to protect you, though. Big sis is gonna have to beat the boys off with a stick."

Haylie finally returned the hugs in full measure. Erica reassured her some more. "Sorry I've been, like, monopolizing Mom so much. Honest, it's 'cause I'm scared," Erica said earnestly. "This being a girl stuff is hard." Haylie laughed again, involuntarily.

Hugs and a few tears all around, then Erica and Haylie cleaned up the silverware and went into the family room to do their homework. Miranda was relieved; she felt like she'd burst from love and pride for both her daughters. Erica was becoming such a lovely, and loving, young woman. An example for Haylie to follow.

~~~~~

Erica chugged almost half a bottle of water in one go. She'd found out yesterday, Friday, that she'd made it through the first round of cuts for cheerleading. The squad and remaining hopefuls had met this morning at a local park for an intense, weeding-out practice session. She was tired and sweaty and thirsty.

And a group of boys had parked themselves at a nearby picnic table, watching the proceedings with open - and hardly artistic - interest. The leers and occasional catcalls had been an irritant.

"Good job, everybody! See you on Monday! Make sure you know this routine!" Unlike the stereotypes, the coach of the squad was actually rather nice and encouraging.

The same could not be said of one clique of senior cheerleaders. Carrie, alpha female of the group, waited until the coach was out of earshot talking to the captain, then began complaining... in a voice pitched to carry. "Holy shit, can you believe these newbies?" Contempt saturated her words.

"Tru dat," Brianna, one of her entourage, agreed. Her eyes swept the nearest candidates, who studiously ignored them.

"Next week we can finally dump the suckiest ones." That was Nicole.

"And the wannabes," Carrie said, looking directly at Erica. "Nerds who think they matter all of a sudden."

Erica was irritated and tried hard not to let it show. This was a side of Carrie that Eric had never suspected; he'd even had a few fantasies about her. Erica, though, had long since stopped seeing anything attractive about the poisonous diva.

She gave up the struggle to hold her patience. "Lots of people think they matter when they don't, I guess," she said, looking directly into Carrie's eyes.

The girl's intensified scowl was gratifying, along with the couple of muffled snorts and giggles from bystanders. Carrie was silent for a moment, obviously searching for a comeback. Finally, she bit out, "Some of 'em need to be taught. 'I guess.'"

Erica was careful not to look Carrie's way as she and her friends left. The quip had probably been a mistake. Carrie would never have been a friend, but she'd just guaranteed the girl would now be a foe.

While she mulled over that, Erica noticed one of the current cheerleaders gazing at her thoughtfully. Trahn was a petite girl of Vietnamese descent; cute, and easy to support on one's shoulders.

Suddenly, she smiled Erica's way. "We were gonna go get some lunch. Wanna come?"

Erica pondered very briefly. Entirely aside from the fact that she could use some allies on the squad - especially if she were going to have Carrie for an enemy - she was feeling lonely. More friends were always a good thing. "Sure. Lemme pack up."

As she walked with Trahn, Shianti, and Melanie to the parking lot, she realized another good thing about their offer. It meant she was doing an adequate job concealing her wandering eyes. Apparently they didn't realize she was a 'giant lesbo'. Although that term might not be strictly accurate in her case...

At the restaurant, she followed the other three girls' lead and ordered a salad. It was really surprising just how much of their conversation was devoted to boys. Erica didn't have a great deal to contribute on that score. Or rather, she could have told them a lot about how a teenage boy thought and felt. But how could she explain how she knew?

Interestingly, though, her nascent suspicions were confirmed. Females seemed to have a better handle on males than vice versa. For boys, the motives and desires of girls were generally incomprehensible. Conversely, girls at least seemed to understand what motivated boys, even if they had a hard time grasping why boys cared about certain things so much.

Driving her Mom's car home afterward, she reflected on that. Philosophers said "the unexamined life is not worth living"; she wryly admitted that the Transformation had forced her to examine nearly everything about her life. Rubbed her nose in it, as a matter of fact.

Indeed, she felt she, as Erica, understood Eric now in ways he'd never known himself. She was faintly embarrassed about how little he'd grasped of the distaff persuasion. More, he hadn't even imagined how little he'd understood.

And the things Eric had cared about? Well, she still cared about girls, and sports, and games, and she even missed the models a little. But - except for girls - she had a hard time working up the same obsessive enthusiasm Eric had felt for those things.

~~~~~

"Figures I have two tests the day I start my period again," Erica groused, trying to eat some plain toast as she wincingly held her abdomen.

Miranda chuckled ruefully. "Get used to it, my dear. Most of the time, life doesn't wait for your cycle." She stood and came around the table. "But I think I can help you a little, this once. Stand up, honey."

Erica did so, cautiously. "What, Mom?"

"Shush. Just hold still, dear." She placed her hands on her daughter's stomach, rubbing gently, and closed her eyes. Erica gasped as the pain faded rapidly, dropping to a minor twinge far easier to deal with.

"Oh wow..." Erica realized she shouldn't have been so... flabbergasted. The Transformation had been far more dramatic and profound, after all. But that had been disconnected from her Mother in some ways; she hadn't seen her do anything. At the time, it had felt more like some impersonal, external event.

This, though, was something else. Having her Mom just... 'lay on hands' and suck the pain away... It drove home the idea of her Mother as someone powerful, in command of supernatural forces.

But then she noticed Miranda pressing her own stomach. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Healing Magic has its price, dear. Pain has to be absorbed to be processed."

"You mean, you're going to feel like... crap all day now?" She'd almost said 'shit' but Miranda was trying hard to de-coarsen Erica's vocabulary.

"Well, most of the day. But I have more experience than you, don't I?" Miranda said brightly. "And there are some concoctions I can whip up." Her Mother had told her that most witches had a talent, a special affinity for one branch or another of the Magical arts. Miranda was an herbalist, and a skilled one. The garden behind their house had purposes Eric had never imagined.

"Mind you do well on those tests now, dear."

"Thanks, Mom," Erica said, touched and feeling a little guilty. "I will."

~~~~~

In the end, Erica made the cheerleading squad, and decided to stay on, to her Mother's undisguised delight. Pleasing her Mother wasn't the reason she'd stuck with it, though. Nor was it the respect and admiration she saw in her sister's eyes when she'd announced the news over dinner; Haylie hadn't cared like that about baseball.

No, far more motivating had been the dislike she'd developed for Carrie and her crew. The snide jibes and not-so-muffled laughter had perversely urged her on. Erica steadfastly refused to give anyone an excuse to cut her, and then signed on partly to spite them. Besides, she definitely had some budding friendships with Trahn and the others.

And she had to concede, it forced her to get much more skilled at operating and balancing this new body. Heels were no problem anymore. She was nowhere close to the most talented, naturally - a standing back tuck wasn't going to be in her repertoire for a while. Though she could pull off a cartwheel or two now, and even got lifted into a Liberty on occasion, she was mostly a "base" supporting and catching other girls. She could live with that. She still was getting comfortable doing something so stereotypically 'girly' in public, anyway.

Finally, if nothing else, there was that view in the changing room... and the showers...

Did girls do everything for complicated reasons?

~~~~~

Erica tended to be one of the last girls done getting showered and dressed after gym. She just wasn't as practiced as the other girls at managing long hair. And with only two months under her straps, so to speak, she wasn't a speed demon at putting on a bra. Part of it, too, was that she had to fight the distraction of unclothed girls all around. She usually wound up rushing by the end to make it to Spanish class.

So she was surprised to find the girl who had the next locker over was still there, still getting dressed. She was usually pretty fast. Then Erica noticed what was wrong.

Kristina was crying.

She was trying not to show it, but a few tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she was sniffling. She turned sharply away from Erica and pretended to arrange her things on the bench.

Erica nervously got her stuff out of the locker, pretending not to notice. Then she saw the girl's shoulders tremble. Hesitantly, she said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" was the barked reply. Erica flinched and turned away.

Moments later, though, an actual sob leaked out. Kristina took a deep breath and turned to face Erica. "Oh, fuck, I might as well tell you. Whole school's gonna know anyway. I'm late."

Erica frowned. "We can still make it to class."

Kristina's face wrinkled into a feral snarl. "It's not funny, you fucking bitch!"

Finally she understood. "Oh fuck, oh shit, I'm sorry, I swear, I'm just stupid, honest! I didn't realize, I was just being a total fuckhead!" She'd only had two periods in her life, after all. But she couldn't say that.

Kristina peered suspiciously at Erica, but apparently decided to believe her. "Whatever. Like getting to class matters anymore."

"Well, maybe you really are just late..."

"I've never been a week late. I'm gonna get a test tonight, but I already know. Fucking Jimmy said he'd pull out."

"Oh," Erica said. "I don't think that's supposed to work so well anyway," she added without thinking.

"Apparently fucking not!" Kristina said.

Erica shut her mouth for a minute. Then, curiosity forced her to ask. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not getting an abortion. It's wrong."

Erica didn't contest that. She was becoming increasingly educated in the life-worshipping religion of the Goddess. "Do you think you'll keep it?"

"I don't know. I keep thinking about what my mom and dad are gonna look like when I tell them."

A sobering thought indeed. "Wow."

"And I gotta tell Jimmy."

Erica thought for a moment about how Eric would have reacted if Ashley had told him she'd gotten pregnant. Not much beyond blind panic came to mind. Mostly feeling resentful and trapped.

Suddenly, irrationally, she was irritated and ashamed of Eric for that imaginary resentment. It was hardly the girl's fault alone when pregnancy happened... but the girl got almost all the consequences.

Hopefully Jimmy would be made of sterner stuff.

~~~~~

"Mom, I have to ask you something."

"What, sweetie?"

"Did the... the Transformation do something to my brain?"

Miranda pursed her lips. "I don't quite follow. What do you mean?"

"It's just, I..." Her eyes furrowed. "It's so hard to focus now."

"Not that I've noticed. You still spend too much time working on that computer of yours."

That got a very unladylike snort in reply. "So you say." Then Erica frowned. "No, I mean... when I'm working, I can't just shut everything out. I used to be able to hold a... a whole map of a program in my head, lose myself in the problem." The frown and the way she tapped her heel in frustration were ladylike; so much so that Miranda had to hide her grin.

"Now, it's like... I kept getting..." she groped for words. "...jolted out of my flow last night. Once, I just knew Haylie was gonna come in and ask me something. And, like, a minute later she did!" She shrugged and spread her arms. Goddess, Miranda thought, she makes such a beautiful young woman. "How could I know that? I had my headphones on! These days, if I didn't, I'd hear every sound in the house. I can't ignore that stuff anymore!"

"Calm down, punkin," Miranda said, interrupting the incipient rant. "It's all right. Everything's fine."

"What do you mean? This is normal?"

"For Sisters, yes. Birth-girls find it more natural, I suspect." She cocked her head to the side. "And most Sisters aren't quite so upset about it."

"What, so girls really are ditzier than boys?"

Erica finally noticed Miranda's scowl and shut up. Her Mother spoke with deliberation. "Ditzy, no. Scatterbrained, no. But a... wider scope of awareness, yes." Erica scowled now, too, but in puzzlement.

Miranda spoke on. "Men tend to focus on things, they get obsessed. I think I read somewhere that autism is an exaggeration of male traits or something." Erica cocked her head now, thinking about what her Mother was saying. "Women aren't like that. They can't be. Women are physically weaker than men, and less physically aggressive." She held up her hand, forestalling an objection. "Yes, yes, that's only on average, that's not every woman. But as generalizations go, you've got to admit it's pretty solid."

Erica nodded, only a little grudgingly. She'd become a lot more sensitive than Eric to anything that smacked of denigrating women.

"So, you'd expect women to be more attuned to their surroundings. To have greater... what's the term? 'Situational awareness'. You recall Mr. Kryspecki?" Seeing Erica's slow nod, she continued. "Men can afford to 'shut out the world'. Really, they're under pressure to excel - concentrating on something to the exclusion of everything else can be a strength." She shrugged then. "Women, on the other hand, almost always have more than one role to play."

Erica thanked her Mother and went off to digest that. There was more that Miranda could have said; that "women's intuition" was far from a myth where Sisters were concerned, that the 'awareness' they possessed had a strong psychic component. But often it took experience to tell the difference between intuition and mere wishful thinking. Her daughter's understanding would grow with time; when she was ready to recognize those feelings, she wouldn't need Miranda to tell her.

~~~~~

"Oh crap!" Erica blurted. She made a desperate grab for the syringe but it rolled off the counter and fell to the floor.

She bent over to pick it up. The wolf whistle and chuckles suddenly reminded her that she'd worn her shortest skirt today. Bolting back upright, she turned to glare at the whistler, praying she wouldn't blush.

Before she could say anything, Mrs. Conyers, the science teacher, snapped, "Knock it off, Tyrone." Erica turned back to the lab bench and tried to maintain her composure. She handed the syringe - more attentively this time - to Linda.

"Five milliliters, right?" her friend asked. Erica grunted in confirmation. Linda dribbled out another dose into the beaker before them.

As they waited, Erica seethed in anger and chagrin. "Wish I could pop him one," she muttered sotto voce to Linda.

Linda snorted. "Hey, at least guys notice when you bend over," she muttered back.

"Oh, come on, I think you look great. I'm sure the boys check you out, too." Erica tried to make it convincing. She felt a little guilty; Eric had paid her no mind.

"Could you tell one of them to ask me out, then?" Linda retorted. The plaintiveness was almost masked by the humor. Almost.

"You know..." Erica began hesitantly. "Don't take this the wrong way, I think you look great, but... you could, well, present yourself better..."

Linda looked at her coldly. "What are you getting at, cheerleader?"

Oh Goddess, Erica thought, I stepped in it now. "Please don't be mad! I just mean... I don't think those clothes are right for you, that's all!"

Linda's frown remained for a moment; then she relaxed a little. "I know," she admitted ruefully. "My dad won't let me work, he says I need to study. But he's a cheapskate, he won't give me hardly any money for clothes!"

"Oh, wow," Erica breathed in genuine sympathy. Then she felt a moment of shock when she realized it was genuine. She'd been forced to learn how important appearance was to a girl's standing... but it was astonishing how far she'd internalized it. She suddenly had a weird appreciation for her Mother.

A few seconds of indecision, then she went for it. "What if we went to the mall after school? You know, see what's on sale?"

"I don't have a car..."

"I can borrow my Mom's, I bet." Linda's answering smile boosted Erica's courage.

~~~~~

"Oooh, he's cute!" Linda gushed.

The subject of her positive appraisal ambled across the food court, carrying a heavily-laden tray. Erica glanced and "hmmphed" noncommittally. A fairly typical boy, perhaps taller than average. Handsome enough if you went for that sort of thing, she supposed.

"Oh, come on," Linda protested. "You gotta admit he's hot!"

The girls had been bargain-hunting for a while. Erica was nervous about giving fashion advice, since she was far from an expert, but much of what she'd been saying was channeled from her Mother's tips. And she herself had been paying much closer attention to what girls wore lately...

"He's all right, I guess," Erica said. "I'm not really worrying about boys yet," she added. She'd appended the 'yet' for social cover... but she wondered if it were more true than she wanted to acknowledge. She had a disquieting hunch that appreciating boys might be part of 'adjusting' to being a girl.

"You don't have to get married just 'cause you look!" Linda laughed. One final glance at her lust object, and she returned to the cinnamon bun they were splitting. "How cute is this this top? And only five dollars!"

"It looks totally rockin' on you," Erica said, smiling. It was one of her finds, and she was inordinately proud of it. But Goddess, it had been weird being in the changing room with Linda some of the time...

"How 'bout we check out Hot Topic before we go? Look over the clearance rack?"

"Sounds good," Erica lied. Although she'd hit her shopping-enjoyment limit two stores ago, she didn't want to disappoint Linda. "But then I gotta get the car home, my Mom'll be pissed."

That was another lie. Miranda had been overjoyed to hear Erica was going out to do 'girl stuff' with a friend; she wouldn't protest if the two were to get home at midnight.

Sadly but unsurprisingly, Linda did not actually limit her attention to the discount clothes. The Transformee tried not to fidget. It didn't seem to bother girls to just look around without any particular object in mind, without even intending to buy anything. Since Erica was trying to mimic them - no, become one of them, she reminded herself - she needed to cultivate a similar attitude.

Being less focused, however, she noticed Carrie first. The leader of the clique she detested. She turned away.

But Carrie had seen them, too. "Looking for more granny-panties to flash?" she asked with doe-eyed insouciance. On cue, her 'attendant' Nicole tittered. "I would've figured you were a thong girl..."

"I didn't think you even wore panties," Erica snapped.

"Sure I do," she replied casually, "but I don't need to flash mine to get the boys to look."

"Even that wouldn't help you," Nicole sneered at Linda.

Erica froze, seething. She didn't care about attracting boys, but Linda did. There was no need to drag her into this! How did bullies always know where the weak points were?

Nicole's expression suddenly contained a little concern; Carrie squinted, too. Erica realized her hands were balled into fists. Her fingernails were digging into her palms. She was almost paralyzed with self-conflict and confusion. Of course she wanted to protect and defend her friend. Sure, Eric would've hit a boy... but Carrie and Nicole were girls. Eric would never have hit a girl. And yet some part of her didn't feel it would be quite so wrong. Why?

Because, she realized, deep down she really did think of herself as a girl. Or, at least, not a boy. On some level she saw herself on equal terms with them; no longer on the other side of an absolute barrier.

It was a revelation, in some ways disturbing. However, it also meant that getting into physical brawls wasn't something she should do. In this kind of battle, it would be an admission she'd lost.

She forced herself to think. "The boys you get, do they care five minutes after?"

That got a reaction. Nicole looked outraged. Carrie stepped in. "Good luck getting even five minutes. Come on, Nicole, we don't want their clearance-rack smell on us."

Nicole looked for a moment like she wanted to continue, but after a sharp glance from Carrie she submitted to the girl's authority and they strode away.

Erica and Linda shopped for a only a few minutes more, and didn't buy anything. Neither of their hearts were in it anymore.

~~~~~

Linda was very quiet, just gazing out the window as Erica drove her home. She didn't respond much to Erica's attempts to start a conversation.

She pulled up in front of the Fletcher home and parked. Linda stirred, got ready to get out, but Erica grabbed her arm. "Wait."

"What?" Linda asked, slightly more annoyed than apathetic.

"Don't let those, those douchebags get to you. You're better than them."

"No, I'm not," Linda said. "They're right, no boy's ever gonna want me."

"That's crap. What the fuck do they know?"

"Boys. They know boys."

Randomly, Erica pondered what people would have thought was happening in the car if Eric had been driving Linda home, if Linda had been lingering in the car with a boy.

Not the time. "Screw those bitches. Who cares what they think?"

Now Linda seemed angry, not depressed. "Easy for you to say. You're gorgeous, the boys all drool over you cheerleader types." Linda sniffled. "I'll never be pretty like you."

Erica thought frantically. How would her Mom handle this? What would she say? "No, you won't." She paused just long enough for the shock to show on Linda's face, to make sure the next words would have an impact. "You're gonna be pretty like you."

Linda looked angry. "Don't feed me that..."

Erica overrode her. "You want to change something? Then change it. You don't have to be a cheerleader to be hot." She grabbed Linda's hands. "I promise, I'll help you. You think I'm some perfect girl, you have no idea. Believe me, everything you see, I had to learn." And a lot more recently than you could ever imagine, she thought to herself.

Linda remained obstinate. "I'm fat, and I've got acne everywhere, my hair is stringy..."

Erica interrupted the litany. "You can change that, if you decide to. I know more than you think about making big changes." She ticked off on her fingers. "We just started on clothes already. I'll help you exercise, we can diet together. You're not that big anyway. My Mom knows a lot of, of herbal medicines, I'll bet we can fix that acne. Your hair's fine - a little conditioner, maybe the right style, that's all." She smiled a challenge. "What else you got? You can fix it, if you try."

Linda looked at her with wide eyes, slowly filling with hope. Erica's heart warmed to see it.

~~~~~

Three days later, Erica heard two girls gossiping in the bathroom to the effect that Kristina was "knocked up". Her heart sank.

An hour after that, in the lunch line, she saw the evidence. Kristina sat alone. Her friends were elsewhere. A glance toward the windows - Jimmy wasn't alone. He had his boys with him, and some girls too.

Erica felt irritation building. She worked to calm down. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. Once she and Linda got their food she marched right over to Kristina's table, a puzzled Linda in tow.

Kristina gave her a resigned, sardonic once-over. "You've been talking, I see."

"I didn't say a thing. To anybody." Erica looked her right in the eye.

Kristina tilted her head to the side, appraising. "No, I guess you didn't." She seemed to deflate, as if the defiance had been keeping her going. "Didn't need you anyway." She glared in Jimmy's direction.

"Um, what's going on?" Linda asked quietly.

One look at Erica said so much. You really haven't been talking. Good. Thank you. But out loud, Kristina said, "Couple days ago I got to tell my parents I'm pregnant."

Linda gasped. "Oh, jeez..."

"Yeah, it was as fun as that. They weren't really mad, they were just so disappointed..." Her voice hitched a little, and she stopped to take a breath. When she continued, it was in a flat, emotionless tone. "They talked to the Penners." Jimmy's parents. "Check this out, they lawyered up. They want a DNA test."

Erica's jaw dropped. What an accusation, without coming out and saying it! She sat down next to the girl. Linda sat down more slowly across from them.

Kristina gave a wan smile. "They're not the only ones. That slut whore Prina always had a thing for Jimmy. Soon as she heard, she started telling everybody I just got knocked up so I could get at his money."

Erica was shaking her head, mouth still open. Kristina's family wasn't rich like the Penners. There'd be people who'd believe it. People who hadn't seen Kristina crying in a locker room, at least. She looked out the window. Prina was sitting right next to Jimmy. She glanced in their direction, such a smug look on her face...

Erica got hold of herself, turned back to Kristina. "Goddess, that sucks. Where are your friends?"

Kristina's eyes rolled. "They found other places to be today."

"That sucks," Erica repeated, genuinely angry now. "Well, guess we'll be sitting here for a while."

Linda had to think for a second, but then she sat up a little straighter. "Looks like it."

Kristina didn't actually say 'thank you', but her downcast smile carried the point.

~~~~~

Erica popped up out of the water. She sputtered for a few seconds. While she was starting to learn how to hold her head when she came up so that the hair fell away from her face, she'd forgotten this time. She brushed the strands off her nose and mouth and could breathe again.

She and Linda had come to visit Kristina at her house, and gone out for a swim in their pool. It was just a simple, above-ground, framed unit, but it felt good.

Swimming as a girl was different. She floated so easily; more fat, less dense muscle. The water flowed strangely over her breasts as she paddled, and her smaller feet didn't seem to generate as much thrust when she pumped her legs. There wasn't the same shock getting waist-deep into the water as a boy - no shrinkage to worry about. But cold water on feminine nipples could also wake you up.

She was the last one out of the pool, and she joined her friends sunning themselves on towels laid over the grass. She slipped her glasses on along the way. Kristina was actually pretty cute in a bikini, and even Linda looked all right in her one-piece. It was a shame she couldn't see them clearly when she was in the water.

Eric had never really hung out with Kristina, before. She'd just been a half-familiar face in the crowd. But they'd gotten acquainted over several lunches and she'd invited them over for a Sunday swim.

She settled onto her stomach and laid her head on crossed arms. Eyes closed, she enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her skin. The music from Kristina's iPod played in the background. She'd noticed that there was a lot of overlap in general music tastes between boys and girls, but there were differences, too. Girls tended to skew towards female artists, and away from crude or misogynistic lyrics. Mostly.

They talked for a little while. Nothing terribly heavy - the latest celebrity breakup, homework, a funny incident at the restaurant involving a tub of grease. The ACTs were coming up soon, and Linda was a little worried.

The topics were a bit different - girls tended to approach everything from a standpoint of relationships - and young women in particular tended to be rather animated. Aside from that, though, it was a lot like Eric slinging the shit with his bros.

And boy or girl, talking was thirsty work. "I'm gonna get a soda. Anybody else?" Both her friends agreed.

She stood and walked to the back door. Female fashions tended to expose more than boys; she'd gotten past the underdressed feeling long ago. Nevertheless, wearing a girls swimsuit was weird. Technically, Eric's trunks had covered up less skin than her one-piece; yet the swimsuit clung so tightly she felt almost naked. She'd shaved extra carefully last night, and even trimmed her bush back more than usual. Of course she'd tackled her pubic hair before - cheerleader skirts flipped up on a regular basis, it wouldn't do to have pubes showing. Still, she didn't shave everything off down there.

Not all of her fellow squadmates were as restrained, though. The memory made her nipples perk up. Fortunately, she could blame that on the cool, wet fabric.

Erica went into the house, and turned toward the kitchen. "Hey, Mrs. Weiss. Could we get some diets?"

"You bet!" Kristina's mom said, pulling open the refrigerator. "You want Diet Coke or Coke Zero?"

"Whatever is fine. I don't think Linda cares."

Mrs. Weiss pulled out three cans and handed them over. "Thank you so much for coming over. I know Kristina appreciates it."

The woman had a bit of a haunted look. She must have noticed that Kristina's old friends hadn't been coming by. Erica smiled as confidently as she could and said, "No problem, Mrs. Weiss. We're glad to be here."

"Come by anytime," Mrs. Weiss replied with perhaps a bit too much feeling for a simple pleasantry.

Erica felt good about that as she walked back outside. She'd learned that most girls needed the company of other girls about as much as they needed oxygen. Although, come to think of it - boys ran in packs, too. Yet for all that, boys seemed to be able to handle solitude better.

She cut her ruminations short as she passed the cans out and laid down on her towel. She couldn't spend all her time philosophizing! She resolved to chill and stop thinking about the heavy stuff for a while.

"I never noticed how many songs had 'baby' in them," Kristina said.

Erica struggled to switch gears back to 'serious'. "I guess you're right," she said, keeping her voice neutral.

"Have you thought any more... what you're gonna do?" Linda asked. "Like, the 'Juno' thing, or what?"

"I dunno. I'm thinking more and more like I might keep it." She said it casually, but Erica could see by the way her eyes searched the other girls' faces that she was intensely concerned how they'd react.

Erica waited, but Linda didn't say anything for a beat. So she stepped in. "That'd be tough..."

"I know that!" Kristina snapped.

Erica held up a hand. "Whoa, hey girlfriend, let me finish." She took a deep breath as Kristina backed down. "As I was saying, that'd be tough, but it's, like, doable. My Mom had me right after college, not high school. But, y'know... I think she did all right."

"Huh," Kristina mumbled.

"College would kinda suck with a baby, too." Linda pointed out.

Kristina bristled. "I wasn't planning to rush a sorority pushing a stroller!"

"I wasn't talking about parties!" Linda snapped back. "I mean classes and homework and feeding a baby at night!"

"Okay, everybody just chill," Erica interjected. "It's a big decision, either way." She looked at Kristina. "Would you want to maybe talk to my Mom? Get some, y'know, advice from someone who's been there?"

She looked so nervous and hopeful and guarded and scared... "Yeah. I think that might help."

They were all quiet for a few moments. Linda finally ventured to bring up an upcoming concert and they began to talk again, with relief. Erica got to give her brain a rest for a while after all.

~~~~~

The novice Sister lay in her bed, far more than vaguely frustrated. In fact, she was close to tears. It was remarkable how much fun she had cheerleading; not only was it genuinely challenging athletically and artistically, it also helped keep her in shape, plus she'd made some friends.

But that was also a trial. She didn't just like many of her squadmates... she was desperately attracted to them. And unlike most boys with a crush, she got to shower with the objects of her desire. She knew precisely what she was missing.

The pressure was becoming unbearable. Soon - very soon - she was going to make a pass at somebody. That couldn't end well... but her fingers just weren't enough anymore. Goddess, she was horny!

A knock came at the door. "Honey? Can I come in?"

"Sure, Mom," Erica called, sitting up.

Miranda walked in and sat on the bed next to Erica. "How are you doing, punkin?"

Erica sensed that the question was a little deeper than just the usual Motherly fussing - she was looking for a more in-depth status than just what the girl was feeling at the moment. Marveling that she could get so much out of a few words, a tone, she put some thought into her reply. "Mostly okay... but it's hard, Mom."

"You're tense," Miranda said knowingly.

"Well... yeah," Erica said, looking away. She didn't want to tell her Mom about the immediate reason for her tension. "I have to watch myself constantly. It's getting easier, but I still have to think about what I say or do a lot of the time."

Miranda nodded. "Lay down here, honey," she said, patting the bed. "I'll rub your back and we can talk."

Erica did as she was bid, and Miranda's hands went to work, kneading tight muscles. "If it helps, I think you're doing splendidly. I've never been more proud of you than these last few weeks." Motherly love drenched the words. "Especially how you handled things with Kristina."

Miranda had been very understanding when Erica had
discussed her new friend's situation. Kristina had been relieved, the
next day, to have someone to talk to who'd 'been there.' "Well, it does help some." Her Mother's hands were soothing.

"Here, let's take this teddy off. I can't get your shoulders properly." Erica complied, then lay back down, placing her face on her crossed forearms, turned away from her Mom. She'd have felt more uneasy about being in front of her Mother wearing just her panties if she hadn't gone through both 'Feminine Cleanliness 101' and 'Feminine Cleanliness 201 - Menstruation' so recently. The hands returned to their labors, stroking and squeezing shoulders and neck.

"I wonder if perhaps you're overthinking things a little," Miranda mused. "Part of the Transition is finding out what feels right to you." Spine and shoulderblades were rubbed now.

"But I'm supposed to adjust to being a girl," Erica objected meekly.

"Not just a girl," Miranda corrected. "Erica Jardin." She could hear the smile in her Mother's voice without looking.

She thought about that for a few moments. "So I don't have to be, y'know, just like all the other girls?"

"What girl is?" Miranda asked pointedly. Erica felt abashed. She kept quiet and focused on the hands running along her ribs.

Miranda continued. "Try out 'girlish' things, certainly. I daresay you've already found yourself enjoying things you never imagined, right?" Erica felt herself blushing a little, and was relieved Miranda couldn't see her face. "The Transition is about exploring and expressing parts of yourself that Eric may have neglected." A slight chuckle. "That he might not have had the courage to explore."

That was an interesting thought. But just then Erica discovered a new problem. She was getting turned on. There was something so sensual about a backrub!

Miranda spoke on, never pausing in her caresses. "All I ask is that you stay open to new things. If you find something is just not you, though... don't feel you need to keep doing it for my sake, or the Transition's sake. The goal is becoming someone you're comfortable with. Discovering who you are, not denying who you were."

That bore thoughtful consideration - which Erica was finding increasingly difficult to summon. However, Miranda wasn't finished. "Don't let what people expect of you drive that. You have a unique and extraordinary perspective on girlhood. Naturally you'll be a unique and extraordinary girl."

More thoughts she'd have to reflect on. Later. Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, the sensation of someone's hands on her body was definitely getting her wet. Goddess, she thought, I didn't realize I was that horny!

Unable to think what to do, she simply lay there and let her Mom continue the massage. The effect was perverse in more than one way. Her tension wasn't relieved so much as transmuted, redistributed. Entirely different kinds of aches had begun.

Suddenly Erica twitched, a sputtering laugh forced from her as her Mom tickled her side. "Sorry, honey, I couldn't resist." Miranda retreated to simple effluage. But Erica's heart rate refused to settle.

Miranda's hands slid lower, her fingers glided over her daughter's shapely, panty-clad rump. Erica almost said something then. But a lingering uncertainty held her back; maybe between women that wasn't inappropriate? They did hug more, but still...

And there was the other problem - her breath was getting hard to control. It was all she could do to breathe deeply and evenly. If she tried to talk it'd come out as a pant...

Ultimately it was that that kept her silent as Miranda took hold of the panties at both sides and drew them down and off.

Miranda was scrutinizing her daughter's emotions meticulously. If she'd sensed honest resistance or - Goddess forbid - any whiff of trauma, she'd have backed off instantly. Would never have proceeded this far to begin with. But Sisters, especially new ones, had outsized libidos...

Her Mom's hands worked one leg now. The sensation of fingers on her inner thigh was mesmerizing. Erica was deeply grateful that she was laying on her belly; her nipples were probably making dents in the mattress.

One leg was gently eased away from the other. Erica knew that her pussy - and the condition it was in - must have been visible then. She was paralyzed by lust and confusion and...

A hand settled on top of her rear. It kept her from twitching too far when the finger slid between her vulva.

A wordless, conflicted, yet passionate cry escaped her lips. Then: "M...Mom?" Erica blurted.

"Relax, honey. Everything's all right." Miranda's voice was serene and confident.

Erica was paralyzed, pierced with desires that contested with inhibitions which unexpectedly seemed inadequate. The probing digits gently stroked her clit, over the hood. Slowly, slowly... Erica let out a long, low, loud moan. It felt so good...

Then she snapped her mouth shut and froze. "Haylie..." she whispered in terror.

"Don't worry, sweetie," her Mother said back in reassurance, at a conversational volume. "No one can hear anything outside this room." A wicked chuckle. "Sisters have perfected that spell."

As it turned out, she was right.

~~~~~

Erica woke sharply. For just a moment, she was unsure if the images in her mind were dream or memory. She was alone in her bed. But the feelings in her own body, the faint odors in the room, the traces of sweat on her skin - the fact that she was naked - told her where the truth lay.

Haltingly, she pulled on a nightgown and slippers. Despite the fact that daylight filtered through the windows, she had a sense of déjà vu as she made her way downstairs, that only increased when she found her Mother seated at the kitchen table.

Erica just stood in the doorway, unsure. Unsure what to say, what to think, how she felt, how to respond.

"Good morning, honey." Miranda said gently. "How did you sleep?"

Erica stared for a few heartbeats, then shrugged slowly.

"Are you all right, dear?" Miranda asked carefully.

"I..." Erica began. She had no idea how to answer that. She shrugged again in confusion.

Her Mother sighed in understanding. After a pause, she spoke. "The Sisterhood's traditions are very old, punkin. Very, very old." She shrugged, hands spread. "And they fit. You need a sexual outlet - all new Sisters do. But you're not quite ready for a relationship with someone who doesn't understand your special situation... and who could understand better than another Sister?"

"But..." Erica couldn't even think of the words.

After a moment, Miranda spoke gently. "Erica, I would never force this on you. If it makes you feel uncomfortable, if you decide you don't want my help in that way, I will understand. It is your choice." She smiled; such maternal comfort shone on her face that Erica suddenly had to fight back tears. "Now and forever."

She looked away and swallowed hard. "I... I'll have to think about it."

"Of course. Don't feel you have to decide right now, or that you have to decide for all time." A smile with equal parts love and humor, now. "It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, after all."

Erica found she could chuckle a little at that. Then, awkwardly, she looked down at the floor. "I have to get some breakfast. I'm supposed to meet Linda and Kristina later."

Miranda stood, came over, and hugged Erica. "Go to it, punkin!" she said. Then, as she walked to the stairs, she called back over her shoulder. "I'm going to go wake Haylie."

~~~~~

Erica sprinted madly, then did a quick reverse. Aaron, eyes on Shianti, didn't see her switch direction in time, and kept moving right. Shianti took advantage and whipped the frisbee to Erica.

She caught it and pivoted gracefully on one foot. A bullet pass to Trahn and the girls scored again.

"Yes!" Erica gloated. She hadn't played Ultimate in a while, and she was using a new body to do it. But Eric had been a killer cutter, and she was doing well enough. She'd certainly surprised the boys.

Aaron gave her a strained smile and ran to the other end of the
field. Erica loped to join the other girls. She'd met with Trahn and
her crew in the park to hang for a while before the car wash. They'd brought a group of boys who were the kind of casual semi-boyfriends so common now, and a girls-vs-boys Ultimate game broke out. The girls had just enhanced their lead.

As they were lining up, Trahn tossed the disc to Erica. It was her turn to pull. She stared intently as the boys lined up, getting ready to launch the disc into play.

"Take it easy on the guys, Erica," Melanie said under her breath.

"Yeah, they get so pissy if we win," Trahn concurred.

Erica peered narrowly at her teammates. "They're not taking it easy on us!" she protested.

"Hey, you ain't going to a movie with them later," Shianti noted.

"C'mon, Erica. You know how guys are." Melanie sounded amused and resigned.

Erica turned back to the boys. They did seem unduly irritated. She tried to picture how Eric would have felt, losing to these girls.

Kyle signaled they were ready. She deliberately threw a brick.

It was a still a close game, but the boys won. Erica thought she could
see relief lurking in everyone's faces. The girls said their goodbyes and went home to change and get ready to go to work.

On the way, she pondered her latest unexpected lesson. How frequently had Eric been coddled? How many times had a girl let him win to protect his fragile male ego?

~~~~~

"Jeez, skanky much?" Shianti said quietly as she glanced toward Nicole. The girl was waving and yelling at the passing traffic in a string bikini, holding the "Car Wash" sign with another cheerleader. As fundraisers went it was almost cliché, but it was proving remunerative.

Erica nodded in unison with Trahn. She wasn't wearing anything too slutty. A tight-ish T-shirt, shorts, flip-flops. Some of the girls were really pushing it, though. And somehow the most-exposed ones seemed to get more time on advertising duty...

Their customers were almost all men. It wasn't even close, the ratio was easily ten to one. A fraction were fellow high-school students, but most were older.

The other girls seemed to find it funny the way the way the guys stared or ogled. Some men were more subtle than others about it, but there was no doubt what was going on. Erica was faintly shocked at how pragmatically, how matter-of-factly, her teammates exploited their looks. But then, how could girls not be aware of the power they had in that regard? It wasn't like boys weren't equally calculating in applying their own advantages. And she was learning that, for women, accomplishing things frequently required convincing men to allow or assist them.

She felt an unsettling, unfamiliar mix of emotions. Annoyed, discomfited... and yet flattered at the attention of the guys as she helped wash their cars. Maybe they didn't eye her as often as, say, Sierra or Nicole, who were barely clothed and seemed to be in some kind of bending-over competition. But she still got inspected. And she brought in customers when it was her turn to wave signs.

Of course, after the first few cars, the team got wet. And Erica hadn't had the experience to anticipate how translucent a white t-shirt could get once it got damp. Her bra was clearly visible for most of the fundraiser.

There were other things she learned that day. For example, a wet bra could be exceedingly uncomfortable. And for the first time in a while, she missed something Eric had been able to do - take his shirt off on a hot day.

She avoided Carrie in her Daisy Duke cutoffs and bikini top. The other girl seemed content to ignore her. She should have felt reassured... but instead she had a strange foreboding.

~~~~~

Linda huffed as Erica ran along next to her. Exercise had been a struggle, but she was getting there. A few pounds had been shed so far.

Linda didn't get along with the cheerleaders very well. Balancing the friendships sometimes took delicate effort. Erica had skipped out on a before-practice gathering to make sure the girl got out and ran.

Very soon, they were back in front of her house. They checked her pulse and did a little cooling-off. "Tomorrow, some weights," Erica said enthusiastically.

Her excitement was clearly not shared. "Oh, God, I can't believe you. I don't want to look like a boy."

Erica rolled her eyes. "I told you, those muscle-women have to work out like crazy to look like that. And I'm pretty sure most of 'em are on steroids or something." She shook her head. "The more muscle you have, the more calories you burn." She out her arm around Linda's shoulders. "That way, you won't have to diet as much."

"I'm never gonna forgive you for this," Linda muttered. But she was joking. Erica hoped, anyway.

~~~~~

Erica came up to the fence and waved to Cory. He was captain of the track team, and the boys were milling around doing stretches and warmups before practice.

He stared at her for a moment, then finished saying something to a couple of guys. He came over to where she stood, one of the guys tagging along.

"Hey, Erica. What's up?" Cory was one of the more popular boys in school. He could be charming and self-assured, and he was far from ugly. Dark hair and eyes, though his skin didn't take a tan well. That was noticeable here in southern California.

But he wasn't turning on the charm now. Or even good humor. He was all business. Not rude, but not inviting either.

She didn't let it discourage her. "I wanted to go over the project, as a group. Think we could maybe all get lunch somewhere? I was thinking Sunday?" The latest assignment in programming had come down and there was a lot to plan out.

He squinted. "Sorry, gonna be busy Sunday. We might have to just Skype it."

"Hey, man, we could meet up later if you got something going on," the other guy said.

Cory waved to indicate him, betraying annoyance for an instant. "You've met Brandon, right?"

"Yeah, once or twice. Hey." Erica had run into this a lot. Since her Mom had blurred everyone's memories, a lot of people knew her without quite remembering how. Eric had seen Brandon plenty; he was Cory's best friend. The two hung out together a lot. Brandon had even tagged along when the programming group met a couple times.

He was long and lean, two inches taller than Cory, with brown hair and a somewhat narrow but not unhandsome face. He hadn't interacted with Eric much - he wasn't into programming like Cory - but seemed like a decent-enough guy. He wasn't staring openly at her tits, which automatically put him above the 90th percentile among high-school boys.

Cory said, just a trifle brusquely, "We gotta get practice started. I'll let you know about Sunday."

"Okay, see you later," she said, and nodded to Brandon.

"See ya," Cory said, and Brandon said "Bye." The boys walked back to the group. Cory started yelling something.

It really seemed like Cory was avoiding her. She shook her head as she walked toward the parking lot. Her Mom had let her drive to school today.

~~~~~

Some of her underwear had a bit of lace on it. Most of it had colors or patterns. None of it could be mistaken for male briefs, let alone boxers. Still and all, despite the decorative touches, her collection was predominately functional.

This newest acquisition wasn't remotely utilitarian. Stockings, an actual garter belt, panties and a corset. All of it pink, all of it very lacy, filigreed and embroidered. Combined with the tall pink heels, it was more than a little uncomfortable. It restricted her movements somewhat - especially if she wanted to keep her breasts from spilling out of the cups - and would make awkward lumps under almost all her clothes.

She didn't care. Staring enraptured into the mirror, utility was the very furthest thing from her mind.

Procuring it had been a challenge. She didn't want anyone to know. Not her friends, nor her family. She'd left work early tonight and raced to the mall. The purchase had happened right at closing time; she'd been praying it would fit. Lingerie wasn't something that could be returned, for obvious reasons.

And then she'd gone home, and had to wait until it was her normal time to go to bed. She'd dawdled going up the stairs, when she'd wanted to run.

She turned and peeked over her shoulder at her backside. Thong panties were very strange. The term 'butt-floss' was entirely appropriate; perhaps one day she might get used to the feeling, but for now she was very aware of the strip up her crack. Although it certainly would eliminate panty lines, she mused.

Stockings were a new experience, too. The sensation of naked upper thighs vividly contrasted with the sheer fabric just below. Eric had always sneered at high heels, but Erica now could directly experiment and see the manner in which they shaped the calves, and the posture, and the walk. She was suddenly able to imagine circumstances where they'd be justified.

She turned again, examining her front in detail. She could see how the cut of the panties, the little flare at the base of the corset, all acted to emphasize the hips. Women's fashion had whole ranges of technique that men never really picked up on.

The corset wasn't a Victorian torture device. It held her torso in a firm embrace instead of a chokehold. It pulled her waist in just a bit, and the cups on top produced a remarkable amount of cleavage amplification. A cloth 'rose' between her boobs drew attention to the right spot.

The makeup she'd done was a shade or two more intense than what she wore to school. Darker eyes, redder lips, heavier blush; just short of trampy. Her favorite earrings dangled at either side of her face, and her hair had been brushed up and teased just a bit.

In some ways, it was like her first trip to the salon. She looked so different. Like an older, sexier sister. She turned just a bit more, reviewing her profile. The heels and the pressure of the fabric gave her an unusual - but very sexy - posture. Legs stretched lean, hips cocked at a rakish angle, tummy pulled in by the arch of her spine and the drawn-back shoulders - which made the pushed-up breasts stand out more - I'd do me, she thought.

She thought briefly of taking some pictures. Keeping such things private was always the problem. It wasn't something Eric had been into, but there were whole websites devoted to 'amateur' photos posted by vengeful ex-boyfriends. If her computer were hacked or stolen... no, better to keep it in her memory.

Well, maybe a couple photos just before she changed back. Would it be weird for Eric to be turned on by sexy photos of Erica?

Was it weird for her to be turned on now?

Weird or not, she definitely was. She adjusted her boobs a little, let her nipples peek over the edge of the cups. It was uncomfortable but so cute. She walked around in a circle, peeking at the mirror - Goddess, how her hips moved in these shoes!

She arranged herself at the end of the bed, in view of the mirror. The contrast between the adult clothes and the innocent stuffed animals was highly alluring. She got up on her hands and knees, taking in the curve of her rump.

Beyond being horny, she wasn't sure how to feel about all this. It was daunting and intriguing all at once, that she could look this way. Her Mother had developed her musical taste in the 80's, and a line from a Kate Bush song flickered through Erica's mind; Now I've powers o'er a woman's body...

That body had powers of its own in turn - the power to be sensual, sexy. Erica could invoke that power now, if she chose. But no geek could be unfamiliar with Spider-Man's saying, "With great power comes great responsibility." And risks.

Right now, though, that power could no longer be denied. She lay on her back, closed her eyes. The presence of the lingerie was no less pressing; she could feel it everywhere. Her hands tickled her nipples; then one glided lower, rubbing along the silken confection that encased her. The panties were so narrow that she easily slid them aside and probed between her vulva. She let out a little whimper...

~~~~~

Erica took deep, centering breaths - in, out. Halftime. This was the first chance for her to perform a full routine in front of a crowd.

They'd run a handful of short cheers in the first two quarters of the game, but nothing very elaborate. The girls had been kneeling on the sidelines for quite a while, and she was just trying to work the kinks out of her legs in the few moments before the music started.

Booming came from the speakers, and it was time. She caught the beat and began to count. This kind of dancing wasn't about feeling the music at all, she'd discovered - she barely heard the notes anymore. Instead it was one, two, kick, turn, three, four, dip, left, right, left, one, two, step, turn, up, left, right...

There was no warning. A row in front of her, Nicole spun, as she was supposed to. But a cloud of something left her hand as she twirled, washing into Erica's face. It took a moment for the effects to appear; Erica had already moved into her own spin. Tears filled her eyes and her nose was burning.

Pepper, she realized in panic.

Vision smeared, gasping, praying the tears wouldn't wash out a contact, she tried to keep going. But they'd reached the point where they had to march, and she rapidly lost her way. Someone bumped into her, and she staggered, nearly falling over.

It only lasted a few seconds, really. It wasn't like actual pepper spray or anything. Frantic blinking cleared her eyes before long; her nose was stuffed but she could breathe through her mouth. It was long enough, however. She was totally out of sync; chuckles sounded from the crowd as she fought to rejoin the formation.

"Go! Go! GO!" she shouted, then held her pose for a moment, one pom-pom in the air, one on her hip. The redness in her face had nothing to do with pepper. Intense mortification was starting to yield to fury. The squad walked off the field in unison; Erica clamped her hands together in the pom-poms to keep them from trembling.

Just as they made it to the sidelines, she saw Nicole glancing at Carrie. She turned her head to Carrie... and beheld the face of her enemy. Carrie was staring back.

The look from Carrie was venomously self-satisfied. Not that Erica had needed any confirmation who was ultimately responsible - Nicole hardly dared walk without Carrie's say-so. But the look said so much. I did it, I want you to know I did it, and there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

It was true, too, she realized. She couldn't prove Nicole had done anything. There'd been a row of cheerleaders in front of her, cameras wouldn't show anything. Even if pepper dust did show up on video, Nicole would never name Carrie. The puppetmistress was totally safe.

The captain came up to her. "Are you okay, Erica? What happened?" She sounded concerned. "Your eyes are so red!"

She hesitated a moment - specifically not glancing Carrie's way - then shrugged. "Guess my allergies were acting up."

"Are you okay to go on? Want to sit out the finale?"

"No!" She said quickly. "I can just take a pill. I'll be ready."

She sat well away from Carrie's clique. Trahn took a seat next her and gave her a quick hug. "It's no big deal. I fell off of Jennifer last year. Shit happens."

Erica glowered. "It wasn't allergies. Nicole threw pepper in my face."

Trahn absorbed that for a moment. "Shit. What are you gonna do?"

"I dunno. Stay away from them for now."

"I gotta go. See you later." Her friend hurried off. Erica realized that Trahn was scared. Carrie's hold on the squad had just been reinforced.

She made it through the finale. Her performance was hampered by needing to keep a vigilant watch on her surroundings, but nothing happened. In a way, that was worse. Not knowing what else Carrie might have planned.

Once the game was over and the captain had dismissed them she went to find her Mother and sister. Miranda almost radiated sympathy. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry it didn't go right this time, but you'll..."

Erica interrupted. "I just want to go h-home, Mom." The tears tried to come but she denied them. Not here, she thought. She almost lost it when Haylie touched her arm comfortingly, but instead she just grabbed her sister's hand and took a breath.

They got in the car, and set off toward home in silence. They made it a few blocks before she started bawling.

~~~~~

"Goddess, Mom, why did they have to be so mean?" Erica sat curled up on the couch, sniffling. "I never did anything to them!"

"You're still thinking like a boy, dear," Miranda chided gently. "You challenged her position. Just by talking back to her, you undermined her influence. She almost had to respond." She shook her head. "I wish you'd told me about her before."

The story had come spilling out on the ride home. Miranda had sent Haylie off to a friend's house for a time - over her protests - and now she comforted her eldest daughter.

"But that was so..." she trailed off. Adjectives failed her.

"This is one of the less savory aspects of womanhood. Especially at this age." Miranda shook her head. "Girls can be very cliquish. And very ruthless."

She moved closer, put her arm around Erica's shoulder. The way her daughter leaned into the embrace warmed her Mother's heart. "Boys trash-talk, but usually it isn't serious. With boys, you know it's serious when they fight." She smiled, then. "I won't say violence is a boy's first resort, but it's rarely further down than number three or four. Right?"

Erica's head bobbed, thoughtfully.

"Women handle these things differently, dear," Miranda said gently. "In a way, really, girls can be far more vicious. With boys, one fight and it's settled. But for girls, violence really is the last resort. Girls wage long, subtle, intricate campaigns." She sighed. "The battles are fought socially. With alliances and betrayals and sabotage and rumors and all those nonviolent, but often even more hurtful, weapons."

Erica recalled the incident at Hot Topic, and shrank in on herself. "What a wonderful world you introduced me to, Mom," she said dolefully. "So much to look forward to."

"Oh, come off it, young lady!" Miranda scolded. "I know things seem terrible right this moment, but what would Eric have told a cheerleader that got tripped up by a rival?"

Erica laughed a little hysterically. "He'd have said, 'Get over it!'"

Miranda smiled gently. "That's right, punkin." She tapped Erica's chin in a 'buck up' gesture. "It's not so bad as all that. So you screwed up one routine. You'll blow them away next time!"

She gave her daughter a Motherly squeeze. "And the future's not that bleak. Boys get in a lot of fights at this age, but most of them grow up. Likewise, girls tend to hit their Machiavellian peak in high school."

"Not a big help today," Erica muttered. But she'd recovered some composure. Her desolate expression had become a ferocious scowl. "I'm gonna get that bitch, I swear!"

Miranda clucked disapprovingly. "Peace and love are the guiding principles of the Sisterhood, dear." And yet her smile had a hint of mischief. "You know what they say. 'Living well is the best revenge.'"

"Screw that! I wanna kill her!" Erica fumed, only half serious.

"Mastering the ways women contest with each other is part of the Transition, you know. You don't have to be like Carrie - Goddess forbid! - but you do have to learn how to cope with the Carries of the world."

Erica shrugged then, in frustration. "But how?"

"I admit, she has more experience than you." Miranda said slowly. "Still, you do have resources other girls don't." She smiled. "No Mother likes seeing her daughter hurt... but most Mothers can't do Magic."

Erica stared at her Mother for a moment, eyebrows raised. Then she clasped her hands in front of her chest, bowed, and intoned, "Teach me, sensei." The kung-fu reference was more typical of a boy... but the grin on her face was all scheming girl, and Miranda was satisfied.

~~~~~

Kristina and Linda were full of sympathy at school the next day. "Be strong, sister. It'll be okay," Linda said with feeling. Erica had commiserated with both of them by text and voice earlier, and they were up to speed on the true source of her clumsiness.

She'd heard remarks all morning, some snickers, a few taunts. She refused to give anyone the satisfaction of reacting to them outwardly. Still, it rankled.

"It wasn't so bad, anyway. It was, like, thirty seconds, right?" Kristina said philosophically.

"You were there?" Erica asked, surprised. Neither Kristina nor Linda had any significant school spirit. Football games held little appeal, and while they didn't discourage Erica's cheerleading, neither did they endorse it.

Kristina hesitated. "Well... there's some videos. You know, cell phone vids. One of them's been going around Facebook."

Erica glared down at her food.

"Nobody's gonna care anyway, in a little while." Linda labored to reassure. "Wish we could do something about that whore Carrie, though."

"Don't worry, the Goddess will provide," Erica said with somewhat more faith than she actually felt. She and her Mother had brainstormed, discarding many concepts - acute yeast infections, Magically ferreting out Carrie's secrets, and so forth. Then, once Miranda had mentioned a particular concoction, an idea had sprung full-blown in her daughter's mind. A batch was brewing on Miranda's stove even now. They would finish preparations tonight. At the end of school tomorrow, she'd strike. Hopefully, Erica would be old news very soon.

~~~~~

She walked steadily down the hall, weaving through the other students. Keeping a sharp eye on her prey, and a firm rein on her anxiety. She'd been studiously avoiding Carrie. That hadn't been easy. Now, at last, it was time to go on the offensive.

She couldn't do any serious enchanting yet herself, but her technical skills had been brought into play. Though re-sealing the plastic top of the soda bottle with a heat gun was finicky work, Eric had assembled some fairly complex models in his time. And Erica's now-smaller fingers helped.

Poor Harry. He was a geek, and even less fortunate than most geeks consigned to high school, for he was hopelessly smitten with Carrie. When she'd needed math tutoring, Harry had offered. The position, however, amounted to doing her homework for her while she sat and texted. Erica marveled for a moment at the things boys would do for even the most remote chance at a girl. It looked kind of ridiculous from this side...

If this worked, though, Harry's luck was about to change for the better.

The moment had arrived. Carrie had set her backpack down as she rummaged in her locker. Erica pretended to trip over it, scattering its contents as she sprawled onto the floor.

Carrie whirled around, startled. "Oh, it's you. How fucking clumsy are you?"

"I'm sorry! It was an accident!" Erica said hurriedly. "Let me help..." She reached for some of the spilled books and sundries.

"Keep your stupid hands off my stuff!" Carrie shouted.

Erica stood and backed off quickly. "It was just an accident, I wasn't..."

Carrie continued to pack her things back up, and warded her off with a gesture. "Just get the fuck away from me, bitch!" Erica meekly sidled off.

As she rounded the corner, Erica sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess that the switch had gone so well. She clutched the soda bottle that had been in Carrie's bag. The replacement, with its special extra ingredients, would now accompany Carrie to her tutoring session.

She got outside and boarded the bus, fretting all the way home. It might not work. The potion would give Carrie a strong, temporary infatuation for the nearest male, but it wouldn't override her free will. She might choose not to act on the feeling...

~~~~~

Linda: omg gw?

Erica: wat?

Linda: tamika saw carrie mackin on harry yao!!!

Erica: gtfo!

Linda: srsly! harry n carrie!! tongue action!!! ;)

Erica: wtf?!?!

Linda: ikr? gtg cul8r gf

Erica: l8r <3

Erica snapped her phone shut with a loud whoop, startling Haylie as they did their homework at the kitchen table. Miranda called from the next room, "I take it your plan worked?"

Erica was beaming as her Mother walked in. "Yup, that takes care of her. Hooking up with Harry? She's gonna have to negotiate like hell just to keep from losing too much ground. She won't have time for vendettas."

Miranda was smiling, too. "Nicely done, dear. You even did someone a favor."

"Yeah. Who knows, maybe some of Harry'll rub off on her."

"Can I have some of that potion?" Haylie asked slyly. "Tabi Bregger could use a little."

"Haylie, if you ever get in as much trouble as Erica did, I promise to help you, too." She cocked her head. "I'm pretty sure you can handle Tabitha, though."

~~~~~

The gossip started before she even made it to school the next day. She eavesdropped on a pair of students behind her on the bus, as they marveled over Carrie's poor judgement. It was the main topic of conversation as she and Linda dished before classes started. It even had its own name; she'd committed "Harry-Carrie", social suicide.

At lunch she spotted Harry walking out to the picnic tables. Maybe it was her imagination, but she didn't think she'd ever seen him walk with such confidence, with his head held quite that high. Kristina and Linda eagerly confirmed that Erica's foibles had been quite forgotten in the wake of this new distraction.

It all came to a head in the locker room after school, as the cheerleaders got ready for practice. Titters and giggles and sidelong smirks whirled around the room, as before. For a refreshing change, it was Carrie at the center steadfastly ignoring them, not Erica. Finally Brianna said, "What are you doing with that dork?"

Carrie flushed. "He's not a dork! He's sweet, and he's smart, and..."

"Gonna join the math club now?" Brianna cut her off. "How do you say 'Do me!' in Klingon, anyway?"

"He's not like that," Carrie riposted weakly. "He's a nice guy, not a..."

Brianna wouldn't let her finish. "Remember when Louis gave him a swirly before finals? You laughed so hard."

"I didn't know him then..." she said lamely.

"What do you think, Erica?" Brianna probed. Erica finally realized what was going on. Brianna hoped to knock Carrie out of her leadership position in the clique. And she was looking for Erica's help, offering an alliance. The other girls were conspicuously quiet, listening.

She thought swiftly. Was the enemy of her enemy her friend? For just that first instant, she was tempted to really stick it to Carrie, to say something vicious. But she recalled what her Mother had said about peace and love, as clearly as if Miranda were speaking in her ear.

And that brought to mind sayings from Eric's vanished science fiction collection - "Leave your enemy a line of retreat, unless you want a fight to the death." And even more in the spirit of the Sisterhood - "Your enemy is never a villain in his own eyes. Remember this; it may offer a way to make him your friend."

Friendship with Carrie didn't seem possible, or even desirable - but maybe she didn't have to fight to the death.

"Oh, whatever," she said casually. "I always thought Harry was kinda cute, anyway." That last would have an extra effect, she calculated. The shyness she'd displayed at the start of the year, her unapologetic braininess, and especially her regular refusal of propositions from boys had given her a reputation as something of a prude.

There was another moment of surprised silence. Brianna muttered, "Whatever."

Nicole interposed herself. "I hope we can run over the new cheer again. It's a real bitch." After a moment the subject change was accepted and the tension in the room dropped noticeably.

As they went out to the gym, Carrie gave Erica a look. There was respect in her eyes. No gratitude, unfortunately. But as before, the message came across. Okay. Truce, for now.

~~~~~

Erica's digital presence waxed over time. She had more Facebook friends now than Eric ever had, and spent more time IMing and commenting on posts. She had to upgrade her texting plan. It was funny; five hundred messages per month had seemed extravagant back when she was a boy.

Her gaming had taken a nosedive. It was fun as an occasional diversion, but she found herself getting bored after an hour or two of blasting digital enemies or jumping along virtual platforms. She'd start wondering what Linda or Kristina or Trahn or Melanie or Shianti were up to, and leave off to check their status.

The way she used technology had changed in other areas. Asking programming questions on technical forums was substantially less productive with a female name than a male one. It invited - or at least, the guys took it as an invitation for - flirting, sexist insults, and general pontificating to show off how smart they were. She had new accounts - that claimed to be male - for when she just needed a straightforward answer.

Continued in Part 3