Josette's Story: The Prequel to "The Dark of the Moon" - Chapter 2
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THE DARK OF THE MOON: Josette’s Story, Chapter 2
THE DARK OF THE MOON: Josette's Story Chapter 2
BY CHRISTOPHER LEESON
Posted 03-30-25
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The reflection caught Loren off-guard—those legs in short pajamas, that ethereal face framed by a blonde cascade. He blinked. He was in the wrong place. This had to be a dream. But it was a dream experience he could like, The clothes in the room suggested that its owner was a hot dresser.
Loren tried to stay calm. Lucid dreams never lasted long. They always stopped when a guy started thinking about something sexy. Controlling his excitement, he addressed his dream girl: "Miss, would you like to—" But the words died in his throat. His voice sounded so strange.
Suddenly, Loren grasped what was happening. He wasn't looking at a girl behind the window. The teen was looking at himself. He was dreaming that he was a girl. His reflection would do credit to a swimsuit model.
Then Loren remembered what he had read about the magic oil.
Did the oil induce vivid dreams? When he dreamed lucidly, he always woke up when he got excited. He fought to maintain his composure. It was kinky to look at a mirror and see a girl worth looking at.
On impulse, he touched his dream boobies. They were soft and warm. Touching them sent a thrill through his upper body. He reexamined the room and finally recognized it—it was his own, but altered. It had been feminized to an astonishing degree. The walls were hung with male pop idol posters and fuzzy animals. Sexy clothing lay strewn about, and that included lingerie so sexy it gave him goosebumps.
A full-length mirror adorned this room’s door. He took a good, hard look at his girlish reflection. "This goes beyond kinky," he whispered. But the strange voice still coming from his throat made him start. He touched his windpipe and said, "Me me me me!" That wasn't his voice. It sounded like a girl's.
Then an envelope on the floor caught his eye. Lifting it, he noted its addressee: Josette Melford. He'd heard that name before. Loren’s mom had watched all the reruns of the Dark Shadows show, and her favorite character had been named Josette. If she had had a daughter, she would have named the girl Josette.
Suddenly, Loren wondered whether his mother was home.
A poster caught Loren’s eye just then. It pictured some boy heartthrob playing an electric guitar. Loren could never understand why girls hero-worshipped musician dorks. How manly could a guy be playing chick music? Chick music was for chicks, and guy music was for guys, and never the twain shall meet.
Suddenly, Loren got a naughty idea. He crossed to the closet to see what was hanging in it. When Loren looked inside, he got another surprise. The closet had gotten a sex change. It was full of femme attire of the flashiest kind.
Loren wondered whether the rest of the house had changed, too. With lips set, he exited to the upstairs hall and descended the familiar stairs. Something wasn't right. He realized his hips were swaying. He couldn't ignored his dream breasts because they bounced with his every descending step.
Distracted, the dream girl stepped on a can opener left on one step and one step, and it hurt like hell! “Ouch!” she yelped.
“Josette! Is that you?” called a dream woman using the voice of Loren’s mother. His mom hurried into the foyer as if attending a major emergency. “Darling!” Mrs. Medford exclaimed. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Even if this was only a dream, Loren felt embarrassed standing on the steps in front of his mother wearing a naughty pair of girl's pajamas.
“What's with you? You're still not dressed.”
Suddenly, Loren realized that his mother had called him “Josette.”
“You're disheveled, and you're barely dressed,” said Mris Melford, “but why are you favoring your left leg?”
“I stepped on something,” Loren—Josette—muttered.
“Go upstairs; put on a robe and slippers. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Josette bemusedly re-climbed the stairs. The moment she touched the doorknob of her room’s door, his mind finally became clear. “O.M.G!” she thought. She—he—had swabbed that so-called magical oil on his arm. It was supposed to change a boy into a girl.
What if this wasn't a dream?
“Mom! I —” He stopped himself. The page he'd read warned against telling anyone about a sex change. He had to be very careful until he knew what was real. "Mom, I'll be right back.” He had to think, and what he thought was that he had to wake up from this craziness.
Josette started slapping herself, jumping up and down, and making loud whispers of, “I want to wake up!”
It didn't work. A poke from a nail file didn't end the dream either.
As the girl sat on the messy bed, awful ideas plagued her thoughts. Was she hallucinating? Was her sanity or her life in danger?
Her mother called from the foot of the stairs. “Josie, honey! Where are you? Have you fallen asleep again?”
Josette struggled to steady herself. She remembered one warning from the sheet. Whatever was going on, asleep or awake, she didn't dare explain things to anybody. The instructions said there would be consequences. Angering the spirits could doom her to remain a girl.
Puzzled, she slipped into a robe and a pair of carpet slippers. Then, taking a deep, shaky breath, she went downstairs for breakfast, more carefully this time.
The breakfast her mom served in the kitchen tasted like real food. That worried her.
“You don't look well, darling,” Lynette Melford said. “Are you ill? Is that why you stumbled?”
“Yeah,” Loren answered. “I started feeling woozy when I got out of bed. I’ll finish my cereal and then go nap.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go to work early today with you feeling ill,” Mrs. Melford told her daughter. “But check in with me often. If I don't hear from you, I'll call you. If you don't answer, I'll rush home or call emergency.”
“You can go to work, Mom. I’ll call if I feel worse.”
Her Mom soon had to hurry out to her car. Josette was glad to be alone. She went up to her room, feeling lousy. Josette avoided looking at her reflection and didn’t want to touch her body, either. She got under the covers without removing her robe. She lay there trying to fall back to sleep, which she hoped would help her wake up normal again. But she couldn’t fall asleep and couldn’t stop thinking. Once in a while, she touched the fabric she was wearing under her robe. It still felt like filmy polyester.
The phone rang, and Josette reached for the cell on the nightstand and answered. It was her mom, asking how she was. The teen reported gradual improvement. She didn’t want her mother coming home early. She needed solitary time to think this thing out!
Josette went downstairs for lunch at midday. Then she carried her sandwich to the TV room and tried to watch a Roku movie, but couldn’t pay attention. By middle afternoon, the part of her that was Loren was flipping out. He had given up the fight to deny reality. He was a she; he had become a real live girl!
#
Josette tried not to panic. Instead, she fought to think clearly. If she were a girl, how long would this continue? The sheet said that anyone transformed by the magic oil would stay transformed until the next new moon. That was a full month! What should she do until then?
But could the sheet be believed? What if the magical transformation was permanent?
Medical attention was a no-go. If she opened her mouth about being a boy transformed by magic, it might trap her in a girl-shape forever!
Josette had to avoid human contact. Fortunately, school was not in session, and almost all her social contacts were made at school. Her only dependable friend was Darrell Rivers? She wished she could call him and talk about this lunacy, but she didn’t dare!
She wracked her brain. What in hell was she supposed to do?
Finally, a useful idea came to mind. She would have to impersonate a person whom she didn't know at all. She knew less than anyone in the city about Josette Melford. Did the real Josette have a Facebook page? What else? Had she kept a diary or journal? Loren had one, so maybe his “sister” would also.
Josette returned to her chaotic room, searching for information. It was discouraging to dig through such disorder. Eventually, she found a shoebox filled with letters. She took these to bed and spent the next hour absorbing their contents. She watched for clues about the girl’s personality and interests. Also, she made a list of the people she knew.
Most of the letters were from adult relatives, since younger people communicated with texts and telephones. Hardly anything she read was informative. It was mostly the “How are you and what are you doing?” stuff.
It was about 4:00 pm before Josette found a well-hidden journal written in longhand. The reading was recent stuff, dated almost up to a couple of days before. It appeared that people usually called her Josie. But though Josie had written it, it held little substance. The girly drivel was solid as cotton candy. Josette, beautiful though she was, only wrote about pedestrian things.
Josette shook her head when she looked at the list of Josie's friends, mostly referred to by first names only. Who were all these people?
Taking a break from the dull reading, Josette explored the house. Loren had vanished, leaving no trace. The girl's car was a different color, model, and make. Fortunately, she found the keys for it.
She took stock of everything she had learned about Josie thus far. Josie’s social circle was enormous. She seemed to be popular, and that made her different from Loren. Loren desired popularity yet had never done much to gain it. He wanted people to accept him on his own terms.
It bothered her that Josie knew many people. Josette didn't want to have strangers coming up suddenly to talk to her about things that she didn't know or care anything about. Josie had male friends, too. However, she wasn’t dating. Was it her decision? Or did boys find her off-putting?
Josette forced herself to go back to reading. Josie mostly wrote about shopping and clothes. The new occupant of her body glanced at the closet again. Its contents gave her a good idea of Josie’s taste in clothing. A lot of it was flashy and wild. Maybe that was why the unimaginative girl was so popular. Boys would willingly hang out with an uninteresting girl as long as she looked hot and her fashion sizzled. Being seen with the right type of girl brought a guy status. For a boy with self-respect, it was better to go around stag than to hang with a Plain Jane who had nothing going for her.
Sighing, Josette refocused on her reading.
#
A phone started ringing. She answered it, rather than have some friend get worried about her “radio silence” and come over to the house to check on her. The cell’s screen read, “Leah.”
“Leah?” Josette spoke into the device.
“Oh, Josie! I haven't heard from you for a couple of days.”
“Ahh, I haven't been feeling well. I’m staying in. I'm still wearing my pajamas. I’ve tried to read, but it just bores me.”
“That's too bad. Have you been thinking about this weekend?”
What about this weekend? Josette had to bluff. “I doubt I’ll have a fun weekend unless I get better.”
“Oh, it could be so great! We have tons of plans to make. Should I come over?”
“No, don't! Mom says this could be catching. Anyway, whenever I think too hard, my mind swims. I’ve spent half the day asleep. I’ve been using the bathroom repeatedly today; I have to go again. We'd better finish this conversation next week when I'm back up to form.”
“Next week? Was the diagnosis a serious one?”
“I got to rush. Love you, kid.” She clicked off the phone.
Now, Josette heard someone walking around downstairs. She hoped it was her mom and not a serial killer.
Somebody was climbing the stairs. Josette looked around for a weapon.
“Josie!” came her mother's voice.
“Yeah, Mom!” she called back.
The door swung in. “You haven't dressed yet, darling,” said Mrs. Melford. “Have you been that ill?”
“I'm getting better. It’s just that I’m staying home, so why bother dressing up?”
“Are you eating?”
“I haven’t eaten all day, but I’m getting hungry now,” the girl fibbed.
“Do you don’t suppose that you've got mononucleosis?”
“I haven’t heard my friends say that it's going around.”
“Maybe it’s iron deficiency anemia.”
“How's that treated?”
“By taking ferrous iron supplements.”
“That doesn't sound too disgusting.”
“Also, it could also be depression. Do you have any reason to be depressed?”
Oh, brother! Did she have a reason?!
“Well, it’s stressful to be starting my last year of high school. Whenever I look at college catalogs, I see nothing worth studying.”
“You were talking about fashion design before.”
Josette thought fast. “I was kidding myself. I've had no head for design. There’s nothing in the world I can do well. I’m afraid I'm going to be a failure. And the thought of leaving all my friends behind—you know, Leah, Tilda, Margo, and Nina—makes me freak out.”
“Choosing a career path is always daunting; however, studying what you’re interested in is a pleasure.”
“If you say so.”
Mrs. Melford smiled. “You're not sounding too sick. Give me about a half hour, and I'll put something on the table. By the way, you promised you'd get this room cleaned up. How can someone who loves fashion put up with this kind of mess?”
“Do you like the way I dress, Mom? I mean, do you approve of my taste in clothes?” Josette was thinking about all those hot dresses and lingerie.
“I’m too wise to argue with young people about fashion choices. In grandma’s day, the 60s, her folks were dead set against miniskirts, but she wore them just the same. It’s important not to go ballistic over little things. The world can survive the moral menace of high hemlines. Also, it makes me proud to see how much you look like a Hollywood starlet.”
Josette wanted to change the subject. “I’m feeling sicker now, Mom.”
“We'll put some iron into you. If you're still unwell until morning, we'll have you checked out.”
Mrs. Melford paused at the door, saying, “I'm going to do the wash this Sunday. Please put your dirty things in the washing machine as soon as you feel strong enough.”
“Okay, Mom,” said Josette Melford.
TO BE CONINTUED IN CHAPTER 3
JOSETTE'S STORY: The Prequel to THE DARK OF THE MOON, Chapter 5
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JOSETTE’S STORY, Chapter 5
By Chirstopher Leeson
Over the next three days, Josette and Darrell were seen together around the school frequently. At each meeting, Darrell looked and sounded more relaxed. But Josette knew that other people—including Josie's friends—were watching them, too.
When a couple of girls from the popular crowd cornered her, she had no choice but to talk to them. They just went on and on about what the group was doing. Being around these people who knew Josie but not her made Josette extremely anxious. It made her realize that around Darrell, she felt completely at ease. She wanted to spend way more time with him.
On the fourth day, near the end of school, Josette saw Leah by her locker. Leah smiled weirdly. The honey blonde walked up wearing a short miniskirt and sleeveless top. Josette pretended to admire her outfit while checking out Leah's legs.
"Hey Jo, I've been wondering why you came back from summer break like you're a totally different person."
Fashion is so exhausting. You have to think about it every single minute.
"Seriously, who are you and what did you do with Josie?" Leah asked.
The question startled Josette. "What do you mean?"
"Why don't you care about fashion anymore? Did you hit your head or something?"
Josette looked at her coolly. "Leah, what exactly do you want to talk about?"
Leah wrinkled her nose like she smelled something gross. "We need to have a serious talk. You've been keeping to yourself lately, except when you're hanging out with that nerd Darrell. The whole school is wondering what's up with you."
"Our group has to be careful about our reputation, you know."
Josette frowned. "Why can't I be friends with whoever I want?"
"Don't you remember? You promised the group you'd think and act like us."
"That worked before, but we're growing up now. Maybe the rules are different."
Leah looked like she'd been slapped. "Chill out, Josie! I'm trying to help you save your reputation! Maybe it's not your fault. Maybe you had heat stroke this summer! Making social mistakes is the worst thing you can do. Hanging out with losers is going to make you a loser too. Have you seen a doctor lately? Like a therapist?"
"That's mean, Leah. There's nothing wrong with me, except I've been acting like a kid for too long. Fashion, parties, and what music is cool—none of that really matters. With Darrell, I'm learning strategy games. I'm actually getting good at them!"
Leah looked shocked. "I hope this is just a phase. If you keep going down this path, your friends might just leave you behind."
"You're talking about dropping me? Fine! I'd rather be dropped than go along with bullying people."
Leah blinked in surprise. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Josie, but I'm not going to get mad. You're not yourself. Something's bothering you. I'm hoping I'll get my best friend back soon. When you realize you've made a mistake, just apologize and we'll help you fix everything."
"Maybe I will," said Josette, "but right now, I'm still figuring things out."
Leah shook her head and walked away.
"God, those snobs!" Josette muttered to herself. "They really are going to drop me!"
While she wasn't thrilled about being rejected, if Josie's old group cut her out, at least she wouldn't have to listen to their nonsense anymore.
Josette had promised to meet Darrell after school for sodas. She found him waiting by the parking lot.
Darrell looked at her closely. "You okay, Josie? You look upset."
"I'm fine. Leah just said something mean to me."
"Did she get catty about something?"
"Not exactly, but we don't see things the same way anymore. I'm almost eighteen, and I'm changing. It's time for me to grow up, and the group doesn't get that."
Darrell nodded sympathetically. "You still want to get that soda?"
Josette managed a smile. "Definitely!"
At the cafe, Darrell's jokes soon had her laughing again. But Darrell seemed distracted. Finally, he asked, "Maybe we could go to the movies this weekend?"
Josette didn't hesitate, since Loren and Darrell had gone to movies together many times. "Sure, I'd like that. As friends, I mean."
"Yeah, absolutely!" Darrell said quickly. Too quickly.
So they got lunch downtown and then caught the seven o'clock show. Unfortunately, the movie was terrible. Neither of them liked preachy films. The protagonist was a newly graduated female police officer who somehow had better skills and instincts than even the most experienced officers. All the men in the film were either creepy or incompetent. The only guy this perfect heroine didn't find creepy was some downtown troublemaker who'd been in trouble with the law for months.
Josette and Darrell both bought candy before leaving the theater, maybe to get the bad taste out of their mouths. "You'd think a cop movie would be better than that," Darrell said apologetically.
"Don't worry about it," said Josette. "There are tons of classic movies out there. People don't have to watch this garbage. You know what you're getting with the older stuff. They made them back when Hollywood still had some sense."
"Maybe we can watch some of those together," Darrell suggested.
"Yeah, we should. Abbott and Costello movies are hilarious! But don't rush me, Darrell. I'm not ready for anything serious."
"I promise I won't," he said, but he didn't sound happy about it.
Days of classes and activities followed. Josette was no longer being approached by the popular group, and she figured she'd been officially dropped. Even Leah, who had claimed she wanted to fix things, stayed away. Maybe the others wouldn't let her talk to Josette. Why couldn't Leah see that she couldn't keep letting other people think for her?
Josette shrugged it off. She didn't really care about Leah, and she wished she had broken with the group first. But she had more important things to worry about—mainly, the dark of the moon. Did the spell work like the paper said, or was she going to be stuck as a girl forever? She'd find out by morning. The transformation would happen during the night while she was, hopefully, asleep.
She woke up in the middle of the night, not feeling sick, but not feeling right either. She touched her body, lightly at first, then with amazed surprise. It seemed too good to be true, but the girl who had made Loren's life a nightmare was suddenly gone.
He—she was he again—hurried to the mirror. The room was Loren's again. He saw Loren in the mirror, but he wasn't wearing the babydoll pajamas—he was wearing a sweatshirt and guy's pajama bottoms from a thrift store. He examined himself carefully, double-checking that his restored masculinity wasn't just a dream.
Flopping back into bed, Loren lay awake until sunrise. It seemed impossible that he could have lived a month as the opposite sex, but every detail of his experience as a girl remained crystal clear—nothing like a dream. He became more and more convinced that he had gone through something completely insane. But real or not, the ordeal seemed to finally be over.
His life as Loren Medford was back on track.
The evidence was everywhere! His closet was full of guy's clothes. When he went downstairs and his mother looked at him, she showed no surprise. It hurt not to be able to share his experience with her, but the magical instructions had warned him not to tell anyone. He felt amazing for a couple of days, before realizing he was back to slogging through the same boring life as before.
Darrell briefly said hi to Loren at school before continuing down the hall. Loren soon confirmed that no one remembered Josette. There were no memories of her at Westbrook High, except for those that Loren himself had.
Talking to his few school friends, he learned that they only had male memories of him from the past month. Weird! When he hung out with Darrell next, he asked leading questions, trying to figure out what he remembered. Darrell remembered things that didn't match anything Loren remembered. He wondered if he was still living two different lives in two different worlds. That was seriously scary!
Had Josie gotten her memories back since he'd left her world? Had she forgotten everything he had learned while living in her body? Loren had discovered that Josie's life was shallow. She let other people think for her just to stay popular. Without her membership in the popular group, Josie's life was basically nothing. When high school ended and the group broke up, she would graduate with an empty head. Also, seeing another life from a different perspective, Loren was more aware than ever of the problems in his own life.
As the new moon approached, Loren entered a strange state of mind. He caught himself wondering what it would feel like to be Josette again. Both Loren and Josie had been unhappy, but both their lives had good parts. Loren appreciated the good things in life, while Josie had a great body. What if the better parts of each life could come together, while the worst parts could be thrown away?
But no, that was crazy! Going back to her reality risked getting permanently trapped in "Girl World." He wanted to experiment, not be stuck there forever.
Girls under thirty had it made. Males didn't hit their stride until they became men. But when girls became women, it marked the end of the best part of their lives. After thirty, it was all downhill.
On the other hand, it depressed him that he'd have to wait another fourteen years before he could build a decent life. That meant college, then starting at the bottom of some career ladder. What a drag.
A girl could at least prepare for the bad years by finding some guy who would work himself to death taking care of her, all for beauty that would soon fade. A wife often divorced her husband while she still had some looks left to attract a more successful guy. But whoever she was married to when she hit the big 3-0, it would be that guy's turn to trade her in for a younger model. Divorce and loneliness, being shut out from all the best things in life—that's what made women over thirty miserable.
As the days passed and the new moon approached, Loren kept thinking about his recent adventures. He had left Girl World without any closure. He could remember how bad Josette had it in that other world, but now that he was back in his own world, he could see what a mess his life was. He kept thinking about the possibilities of the magic oil. He wondered what Josie was doing back in that other world. She was having her best years while he was having his worst. He shook his head. No amount of trouble could make him put another drop of that magical oil on his arm.
But almost before he knew it, that's exactly what he did.
Josette woke up the next morning in sexy girl's pajamas. When Mrs. Medford called her down for breakfast, she ate in a daze, barely tasting the food. It took a while to get mentally and physically coordinated in this body again. But once she got to school, Josette felt less jumpy. In fact, she started to feel confident and daring.
She stepped out of her car wearing a short skirt and a revealing summer top. She saw Darrell coming into the parking lot. He waved and shouted, "Josette!"
"Hi," she replied.
"I missed you!" said Darrell.
"Missed me? Did I disappear for a month or something?"
"What are you talking about?"
"What day did we last see each other?"
"What's wrong with you? It was yesterday when you gave me a ride home after school."
"Oh, right! Sorry. Girls get spacey sometimes during that time of the month."
"I never heard that," Darrell replied.
"We all do, but we don't like to talk about it."
After school, they went to get milkshakes. Darrell had a bunch of ideas for what they could do together over the next few days.
Some of his suggestions got pretty close to being romantic, but she knew she could trust Darrell not to go too far. She felt like going all-out with the girl thing for the month ahead. One result was that she lost her inhibitions about dressing to show maximum skin. She didn't know why she liked being looked at like that, but she did. She felt lucky to have the right clothes to wear when she wanted to look hot.
Seeing her like that, the guys started acting weird. When they came up close, most got so tongue-tied she couldn't understand what they were saying. But the worst were the pushy ones. They were always asking her to go places with them. The only guys who avoided her were those from Josie's old group. That crowd had officially dropped her. But if that meant she could stay away from them and their annoying girlfriends too, the situation worked for her.
She didn't enjoy attracting guys like honey attracts bees, and it was especially creepy when they got too close when she was alone. She noticed that all the single, good-looking girls had this problem. The solution was to get a boyfriend! Guys would usually respect another guy's claim on a girl.
She decided to focus on Darrell and stick with him. That arrangement worked fine at first, and it was her idea that the two of them should go to the beach together.
When they hit the sand, Josette attracted plenty of male attention. She had changed into a bikini—the first time she'd intended to wear such a thing in public. Under her casual clothes was a Brazilian-cut number with a stained-glass pattern. It felt weird to be seen that way by strangers, but the shyness faded surprisingly fast. Maybe women weren't built to stay bashful for long.
The other girls at the beach didn't smile her way. When she realized their problem was jealousy, it made her laugh inside. All of them—especially the hot ones—deserved payback for the terrible way they had treated Loren!
"Doesn't being stared at make you uncomfortable?" Darrell asked.
"Do you want me to cover up more?" she asked.
"Oh God, no! You look incredible! It's driving me crazy, and I love the feeling!"
"That's sweet, Darrell, but don't start acting on your craziness in real life. It might hurt our friendship."
Darrell winced. "Josette, you're always talking about us being friends. Maybe you don't realize that guys hate being in the friend zone. For us it's like having an itch we're not allowed to scratch!"
"Don't get too intense, Darrell. Intensity—from a guy who's so big and strong—makes me nervous."
"I thought our relationship would be developing more than it has. What do you think about when we're together?"
"What should I think about?"
"Don't you have any opinion about what's good and what's kind of—wrong?"
"That's nothing! Perfection doesn't exist in this world, or any other world I've been in."
"You're hard to understand."
"That's true. Doesn't it make me interesting? But let's not talk about heavy stuff. It'll kill all the fun we're having here at the beach."
Darrell reluctantly agreed and switched to talking about the new war games at Jimmy Jack's game store. But the longer they talked, the more unspoken tension built up between them.
Just then, about six buff guys came over, their skin well-tanned from twelve weeks in the summer sun.
"Hey babe," one of them called. "Come join our volleyball game!"
Josette looked his way. "No thanks! My boyfriend and I are having a conversation here!"
"I bet the nerd doesn't have much else to offer!" said a shaggy-headed guy with a dark tan.
"Hey!" said Darrell, finally standing up for himself. "She already said she doesn't want to play volleyball with you!"
One volleyball player looked at him. "Don't you get it, geek? With girls, 'no' always means 'maybe.'"
"I wouldn't count on that," said Josette.
One of the beach guys reached for her. "We've got girls on our team. You'll fit right in. Let me help you up."
Josette slapped his hand away.
Darrell stood up and tried to push the pushy guy away. "Why don't you jerks realize you're not wanted?"
The guy smirked and shoved Darrell. He fell backwards, hitting the sand. He scrambled to his feet and started throwing punches. Josette had never seen Darrell fight before. And she could see he wasn't very good at it.
The volleyball players formed a circle around Darrell, pushing him back and forth between them. Josette jumped up and started punching too. One volleyball guy grabbed her up and threw her over his shoulder.
Some of the others couldn't resist touching her legs, her sides, and her bikini bottom. Darrell started swinging wildly. Unfortunately, the jerks hit back, and Darrell was soon beaten to his knees.
"Cut it out!" shouted a mature male voice. "Put that girl down right now!"
Josette was dropped back on her feet. She staggered a few steps and saw that the person intervening was the lifeguard on duty.
"We were just asking her to play volleyball," one teen said.
The guard looked at her. "Do you want to play volleyball with these idiots, miss?"
"I told them I didn't want to," she answered.
"That's it, then," said the guard. "Get back to your net before I call security to throw you off the beach for the rest of the weekend!"
"Let's go," said one of the group. "The little blonde is stuck-up anyway!"
Half a minute later, Darrell and Josette were left standing alone. Darrell didn't look happy.
"Don't look so bummed out," Josette said.
"I tried to protect you, but all I did was get pushed around."
"You did what you could, and that makes me think you're pretty awesome!"
Darrell sighed. "You've changed how I think about things, Josette. I never thought about defending a girl before."
"I hope you learned something today that you can use next time," she said.
"Hey," said Darrell, "instead of hanging around these beach jerks, why don't you come meet my war-gaming group? We meet Saturday nights. You said you're interested in war gaming."
"I am! Just thinking about playing Advanced Third Reich with all the countries filled makes me excited!"
"Maybe you'd want to take one of the easier countries, like Italy or France?"
"Hell no! The real fun is driving tanks into Russia!"
"Okay then! Awesome!" exclaimed Darrell, his eyes brightening.
Darrell introduced his gaming buddies, not realizing that Josette already knew them all. She had put her shirt back on, but still showed off her bikini bottoms. She knew every war gamer dreamed of having hot girls in their gaming circle. The guys didn't play well that night—Josette thought they looked somewhat distracted.
Unlike the beach jerks, war gamers were incredibly polite, treating her like a princess. This was the kind of crowd Josette had been looking for. They had great conversations about movies and books. The guys kept stealing glances at her chest and legs, but Josette couldn't be offended by guys acting like guys. After all, she knew the outfit she was wearing permitted them to look every chance they got.
#
When Josette drove Darrell home, he wasn't his usual good-natured self. Some instinct warned her not to push him to talk when he was in a mood.
At the zoo the next day, Darrell's frustrations spilled over and his thoughts suddenly turned into harsh words. "I don't think you're taking our relationship seriously," he blurted out.
Where had that come from?
"It's been bothering me for a while," he continued.
"I do take it seriously," she replied defensively. "Why do you think I don't?"
"Because you never let us talk about important stuff."
"We talk about everything!"
"But never about important stuff."
"Like what?"
"Like, you never mention what kind of guy you'd want to marry."
"Whoa, that's heavy! I won't even be eighteen until next month, and I'm still living with my mom. Why should I be talking about husbands when I'm still in high school?" It was hard for Josette to even pretend to want a husband.
"So where is our relationship going? Is it even a real relationship?"
Josette shrugged. "Isn't a relationship about having a good time and going on dates? Lately I've noticed you looking miserable when you should be happy."
"I've got a lot on my mind. I'm worried that maybe we're heading for a breakup."
"Hey! Who's talking about breaking up? If we're good together, why would we have to break up?"
"If two people aren't going in the same direction, a breakup is inevitable."
"I thought I understood guys, but I don't understand anything you're saying right now."
"I don't think you get how strongly I feel about you, Josette. The vibes you give off don't make me think you have any strong feelings for me."
"Relationships evolve. I do have strong feelings about you, even if they aren't romantic. Why talk about marriage? Most marriages fail anyway. Your parents are good together, but mine weren't. People can seem to be perfect together, then suddenly want a divorce a year after they get married. Please, Darrell. Enjoy what we have and don't be so anxious to open the next box."
"We haven't even kissed yet."
"So what's the big deal about kissing? If two people aren't in sync, a kiss can be misunderstood. And misunderstandings can ruin everything."
"It looks to me like you're putting me in the friend zone. No guy likes that, because girls never take friend-zone guys seriously."
"Don't get mad! If you start hating me, you'll leave my whole life empty. We're such perfect friends. Why isn't being friends enough?"
"I've told you why not!"
Josette's expression hardened. "If I'm not right for you, is there somebody you like better?"
"I never said you weren't right for me! I just want you to act like I'm the right guy for you!"
"Listen to yourself! What do you want from me?"
"Why don't you ever do anything sweet and spontaneous, like giving me a surprise kiss?"
"Kissing again! Friends don't have to kiss. If they do, it can be weird!" Josette stopped abruptly. She was getting into dangerous territory.
"But we're talking about boyfriends and girlfriends. People who are together and really care about each other act differently!"
"Be reasonable! We've only known each other for less than three months. I don't want to rush things."
"Rush things? If you were racing against turtles, they'd lap you three times!"
"Why are you so obsessed with kissing me?"
"Do you seriously not know?" Darrell asked impatiently.
"I honestly don't," she replied.
"Now you're manipulating me, acting like I'm bullying you!"
"I'm just saying we shouldn't change something that's still brand new. A kiss is a big deal, and it would change things. Changes are sometimes for the worse."
"Some changes are for the better. I want a better and deeper relationship with you, and the longer I have to wait, the more I think we want different things."
She felt like grabbing and shaking him. She knew damn well that he'd never had a chance to hang out with good-looking girls before. Why couldn't Darrell be satisfied with being seen around with one of the cute chicks at Westbrook High? Why was it that two guys could stay best friends for years, yet even the best guy-girl relationships rarely lasted beyond a few weeks?
"You've given me a lot to think about. I need time to process this," Josette replied. "If we keep talking this way, one of us might say something wrong, and it could be hard to fix things afterward."
"Maybe you're right. But we need to have a serious talk soon."
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Josette. "I've got an idea that might solve this problem we're having. I'll tell you about it soon, I promise."
"What kind of idea?" asked Darrell.
"Don't worry," Josette replied. "It'll be the biggest and most surprising thing that's ever happened to you."
"Is it something I'm going to like?"
"There's a chance you will. Let's just wait and see. I'll tell you Friday night, after school."
"What's so special about Friday night?" Darrell asked.
Josette lied. She didn't dare explain that Friday night would be the next dark of the moon.
THE END
To continue with the adventures of Josette and Darrell, see “The Dark of the Moon,” already posted here at TFTGS, https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/51751/dark-moon-sock-...
Josette's Story: The Prequel to "The Dark of the Moon" - Chapter 3
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The Dark of the Moon: Josette Story, Chapter 3
By Christopher Leeson
THE DARK OF THE MOON: Josette's Story Chapter 3
BY CHRISTOPHER LEESON
Posted 04-29-25
Revised 04-30-25
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Josette's next awakening hit her like a blast of cold water. This wasn't a bad dream. It was reality. She was living the life of a blonde girl! When she looked at herself in the mirror, she reeled. The teen desperately hoped the next new moon would solve her problems. Otherwise, living out her life in girl shape would be a daunting challenge.
She thought that dealing with Josie’s friends would be her biggest problem. They recalled a nonexistent friend and therefore knew more about Josette Melford than she did! To fake her way through the long weeks, she had to learn everything she could about people’s expectations about Josie—a monumental task.
After showering in her pajamas, Josette stood dripping in front of Josie's closet, still wearing the dripping nightgown. Changing into Josie’s clothes felt like yielding to circumstances. With gritted teeth, she searched the closet and dresser drawers for jeans, plain shirts, and sneakers. But around Josie, such garments were as rare as gold nuggets.
Seemingly, Josie had the same sense of fashion as Tiffany Malloy from Unhappily Ever After. Why had her mom allowed her to go about like a sex bomb?
Josette leaned back against the wall and gave a moaning sigh. What else was in store for her while she lived this crazy life? According to the instruction sheet, a person who used the magic oil gained not only the appearance of his ideal girl, but would experience her tastes and feelings, too.
After donning the least feminine outfit she could scrounge together, Josette descended the stairs as if the electric chair were waiting for her in the living room. The fragrant smell of coffee and toast drifted in from the kitchen.
Josette's next awakening hit her like a blast of cold water. Sunlight streamed through unfamiliar curtains, and the reality crashed down on her—this wasn't a bad dream. She was living the life of a blonde girl she didn’t know! Could she go back to normal? Even if the enchantment ended after a month, over that time, she’d have to act differently from herself while keeping the truth hidden from everyone.
"How am I going to handle Josie's friends?" she asked her reflection. They’d have expectations, memories, and inside jokes that Josette couldn’t know. To succeed, she had to discover and memorize every aspect of Josie’s existence—a monumental task.
After forcing herself through a shower wearing her pajamas, Josette stood in front of the closet in her dripping nightgown. She needed real clothes, but voluntarily putting on girls’ clothes felt like surrendering to the situation. With gritted teeth, she started searching for the most gender-neutral items she could find—jeans, plain shirts, sneakers. But Josie's wardrobe had other ideas.
"Damn it," she muttered, pushing aside another ruffled top. Josie had the fashion sense of Tiffany Malloy from Unhappily Ever After—a super minx of calculated sex appeal and cunning manipulation.
What made everything worse was that, according to the instruction sheet, the oil user gained not only the appearance of a car-stopping girl, but her tastes and feelings too. And who knew what those were? After putting on the least flashy outfit she could assemble, Josette made her way downstairs. The smell of coffee and toast filled the kitchen, where her mother was already seated at the table, scrolling through her phone. Loren had learned that his mother was a busy person, so he had gotten used to serving himself at meals. Josette sat across from her parent with a fully laden plate.
“Are you feeling better?” Lynette Melford asked.
“Yeah, quite a bit. My appetite is coming back.”
“That’s good!”
Josette stirred her cereal absently.
“Why so glum?” her mother asked.
Josette made up a reason. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Dad. I have a brother and a sister, but I hardly know them.
"I’m sorry. You dad has a high-pressure job now, and it’s hard for him to take tended trips away from home. If you’re missing him, I wish you could have mentioned it. We could have arranged for you to visit, but now school is opening soon."
“I hadn’t considered it before now.”
“I’d love to chat more, sweetheart, but I’m busy with the church rummage sale committee tomorrow. You could come and help me if you wish to.”
"I don’t feel like learning new things,” Josette said, but then added quickly, "I've already started reading about meditation. Maybe that will help."
"Meditation?" Her mother raised an eyebrow. "That's a new one for you. I'm sorry I've been keeping myself so busy. We need more time together."
"Yes, we do, Mom," Josette agreed. When her mom left, Josette welcomed the solitude. She needed to learn more about her new self, so revisited her room, approaching the large trunk she hadn’t bothered with before this. Inside, Josette discovered a treasure trove of Halloween-type outfits: Sexy Playboy Bunny, Sexy Princess Leia, Sexy Swashbuckler, and a Red Riding Hood outfit certified to pop the eyes out of any big, bad wolf.
Loren enjoyed seeing girls wearing fantasy costumes, but for Josette to get into a Leg Avenue outfit was a no-go. She ran her fingers over the fabric of the topmost costumes. For how many parties had Josie required all these outfits? Or did she just collect them, like some girls collected stuffed animals?
Having learned nothing from the trunk, Josette closed it and pulled out the magical instruction sheet again. She could only talk safely to persons similarly affected by the oil, it had stated. Fat chance of finding anyone else in that situation!
The only person she could usefully transform would be her mother, but the sheet had said that only boys could be transformed, not women. This meant she couldn’t transform her mother, so she could safely confide in her.
Josette flopped onto the bed, feeling more isolated than ever. The prospect of returning to school as a female filled her with dread. How could she maintain such an extreme deception for long?
“I’ll have to stay isolated,” she told herself. “And avoid Josie's social circle. They could trip me up in a thousand different ways.”
She picked up Josie's phone and turned it on to check past emails. Many of them were from someone named Leah.
The latest text said, "Why is your phone off? Are you dying or something? If you're still alive, please, please answer me!"
Josette typed out a response. "Sorry, Leah! Still feeling awful. Super-contagious foreign flu. Staying home. We'll see how I feel on Monday. Have fun without me!"
She again switched off her phone to avoid further contact. With luck, Leah would spread the word, and people would stop calling her.
The girl returned to studying the photos stored on the phone. Various faces appeared with Josie -- presumably her friends--but which one was Leah?
The high school yearbook provided answers. Josette paged through it until she found the only Leah in the junior class. The girl looked familiar. As Loren, she'd seen that face around school. Leah was one of those untouchable popular girls who brushed off any guy below varsity status. She always hung out with the letterman crowd. To be able to date cheerleaders always elevated a boy’s social standing, but that was a privilege unavailable to people called nerds.
When Josette felt hungry, she went to the kitchen and enjoyed a lunch of fried dough with butter and honey. Then, reluctantly, Josette went back to her studies.
The afternoon slipped away. Around five, footsteps sounded on the ground floor. Josette hurried downstairs, an idea taking shape.
"Mom!"
Lynette Melford was surprised by her daughter's enthusiastic tone. "What is it, honey?"
"I want to visit grandma and grandpa! Just until school starts. I can pack tonight and drive to Licksville tomorrow."
"What's the sudden rush?"
Josette kept her voice casual. “I’d enjoy a long, relaxing visit with the old folks before classes start up.
"What brought this on?"
"I'm just... tired of being at the beck and call of my Westbrook friends. They have no imagination, and their ideas are stale. I need a break from them."
“Stale? How?”
“They can't figure out what's cool! Talking about comics, games, and action movies only gets a person blank stares.”
“Do you like those topics?” asked her mother bemusedly.
“I’m just learning how much fun they can be.”
Her mother studied her daughter's face for a long moment. “Mom and Dad should be pleased you’re coming. I'll contact them to make sure this is a suitable visiting time for you.”
Josette fast-walked toward the stairs. "I'll start packing now!" she called back. Upstairs, she put her room into even more disorder while she packed. She selected mostly clothes, since Josie didn’t have the sci-fi books and comics that Loren liked to take on trips.
#
The drive provided Josette with considerable time to think. By the time she pulled into their gravel driveway, her hands on the steering wheel were trembling. She was suddenly afraid to show herself to her grandparents. Would the magic be consistent? Would they even know who she was? At that moment, her grandmother Emma came hurrying out the front door, arms outstretched.
"Josie! We're so happy to see you! Joe! Josie’s here!” she called over her shoulder.
Josette was relieved that her grandmother remembered her—or rather, she remembered Josie. Wherever that magic had come from, it was powerful! "H-Hi Grams," she managed to say, despite a catch in her voice.
"There's the princess who’s named after me!" Shouted her grandfather, Joseph, from the door. Grandpa would never admit that his granddaughter had not been named after him, but rather after a soap opera character. His bear hug lifted the much smaller girl off her feet. "Emma’s been cooking up a storm ever since your mom called."
The coziness of their home made Josette feel less exposed than she had at home. Her grandparents were effusive in their hospitality—fresh-baked cookies, cold milk, and rapid-fire updates about all the activities they had planned for her. Despite her anxiety, Josette relaxed.
That evening, after dinner, Emma showed Josette to the guest room. "We haven’t had to change anything in it since your last visit," she said. There are pajamas on the dresser. "Sleep well, pet."
Left alone, Josette donned a floral pair of pajamas with a shirt and pants. At least they weren’t a babydoll!
Josette stayed close to the house over the weekend. She had brought photos and the journal books from home and continued to memorize names and faces. Her grandparents showered her with attention, but they didn't press for engagement when she grew quiet or wished to retreat to her room. Early Monday morning, Grandpa took Grandma off to an appointment, leaving their granddaughter on her own recognizance.
As soon as their car disappeared, she went to check out the things she'd brought from home. Before Josette could stop herself, she was experimenting with lipstick and powder. After that, she slid into a party dress with a swishy skirt. Suddenly the idea of dressing up like one of the hot girls at school excited her.
She wanted to see if she could achieve the Tiffany Malloy. Loren had watched TV with eyes glued on every abbreviated outfit that Tiffany had worn. Now she found herself wondering if she could look as hot as actress Nikki Cox had looked. She had brought a couple alluring outfits from home, either one suitable for a town outing.
Wearing the shortest dress she had brought, Josette got ready and drove into Licksburg. In a public parking lot, she suddenly lost her nerve. She sat for ten minutes, debating whether to have a sexy excursion or to hurry back to the country house unseen.
Finally, she left the car, taking with her one of Josie’s purses, since her dress didn’t have any pockets. Wearing a short dress, she found, felt even cooler than Loren was used to when wearing trunks as a boy. Despite her pride in her appearance, being looked at by males on the street disconcerted her.
Part of her wanted to get out of sight and buy a pair of jeans, but another part of her felt delightfully wicked. She felt some kind of a charge from being able to make people turn and look.
Wherever that feeling came from, it was getting stronger. Some force compelled Josette to halt before the show window of Claudette’s Boudoir. Claudette’s was one of a new chain of lingerie shops that had stolen Victoria's Secret's thunder. The latter had given up on angels and started pushing merchandise to plus-size women and girls with knobby knees.
Josette felt a thrill. She now understood she could enter a place like that and stare to heart’s content at provocative clothing without coming off as a degenerate.
"Can I help you find anything?" The female sales clerk asked, smiling warmly.
“I’m just browsing,” Josette said. She hadn't been planning to buy anything, but with the salesgirl’s encouragement, consented to being tape-measured. By some strange alchemy, she the store an hour later, carrying a bag full of lacy, skimpy things. Josette had even bought a new pair of babydoll pajamas! Unbelievably, she was even looking forward to wearing them to bed that night.
But the teen felt a sudden jolt of fear. The sheet had warned that the magic could change a fellow’s likes and tastes. Josie’s collection of naughty fashions warned her that her alter ego had looked at young miss clothing that way.
But despite her misgivings, Josette felt exhilaration. Next, Miss Melford was ready for a café lunch. But crossing the dining area in two-inch heels tripped her up–literally. When she grabbed at a table to break her fall, it tipped over, and she smacked down on the tiles surrounded by chaos. Everyone looked at her sprawled there. Mortification made her face burn.
"I'm so sorry!" she gasped to the staff as they rushed up to help. Despite her rescue by a kind, unbiased manager, the teen left the café unnoticed the first chance she got.
Trying to shake off the embarrassment, Josette wandered into another boutique. A mannequin wearing a slinky, backless dress caught her eye. Lorne had always liked dresses that were tight, scoop-necked, and with sky-high hems. She was still admiring how provocative the dummy looked when a familiar voice coming from behind made her freeze.
"That dress would make you a killer, Josie. Are you going to try it on?"
The teen looked back and recognized the girl behind her. It was Amber Somethingorother from the cheer squad at Westbrook High. Josette’s face flushed hotly.
"Oh, I don’t know…." she stammered.
"Don't be shy!" Amber raised her hand to signal a salesgirl. "Try it on. I insist!"
Before Josette could protest coherently, she was wearing that hot black number, taking in her reflection in the boutique's three-way mirror. Amber bounced with enthusiasm. "Buy it!" the cheerleader urged.
Josette shook her head. “I’ve just started shopping. I’m not a money pit, and I might find something I like even better if I keep looking.”
Amber shrugged. "Suite yourself. Come on, I’m hungry. My favorite cafe is near here.”
“Do you come to Licksville often?” Josette asked to change the subject.
“My mother’s home office is here, and I sometimes travel with her. I like small cities better than large ones. Don’t you?”
“I guess I do,” said Josette.
#
Over yogurt and salads, Amber regaled Josette with horror stories about thoughtless boyfriends. Josette disliked her friends’ condescending attitude toward boys, but at least she was getting to lunch with an attractive girl. But Josette found Amber’s incessant girl-talk dull and difficult to engage with.
"Come out with me and Steve this weekend!" said Amber, leaning forward, her yogurt forgotten. "The gang on Friday night is hitting the rink. And Brad has been asking about you.”
“Brad?” The girl couldn’t imagine who that was.
“He likes you, as if you didn’t know!” She punctuated this statement with an exaggerated wink.
Josette managed a weak smile. The thought of being pawed by some handsy boy made her skin crawl. "I won’t be back in Westbrook until a couple of days before school starts, Amber. Anyway, my grandparents have something planned for us Friday night," she said carefully.
Soon after, Amber left to rejoin her mom, leaving Josette feeling grateful to be alone again.
#
That evening, back in the country home, Josette collapsed onto her bed. Despite having liked the more attentive treatment she'd received from business people, being viewed publicly as a girl and, especially, her public stumble at lunch, embarrassed her. But, overall, the wild and woolly ride had been interesting in a weird way.
Did being physically attractive alone explain the better reception she had received? She had now experienced firsthand the well-known truth that people treated girls differently than they treated boys. The thing that bothered her most, however, was the odd feelings she had felt while going about town as a girl. She was worried that the magic was doing things to her below the surface. If it was interfering with the way she thought, the way she reacted to things, that was worrisome.
Like, what if it zapped her into liking boys?
Before getting under the covers, Josette put on the sexy pajamas she had bought in town. She afterward lay on her side, studying her reflection in the mirror. Wearing those shortie, pastel-colored pajamas, she could almost imagine herself as being a worthy rival for Tiffany Malloy.
Before Josette knew it, she dropped off to sleep, her expression made sweet by a tiny smile on her bow-like lips.
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER FOUR
JOSETTE'S STORY: The Prequel to THE DARK OF THE MOON, Chapter 4
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The Dark of the Moon: Josette Story, Chapter 4
By Christopher Leeson
The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of Josette’s room, casting delicate patterns on the wooden floor. She lingered in bed, her mind replaying the previous day’s adventure—the salon, the mall, the stares, the stumble. The sting of humiliation persisted; however, so did the thrill of newfound visibility and admiration. With a sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for the phone.
By nine, Josette had secured an appointment at Serenity Couture for a full makeover. She wasn’t sure what a full makeover was, but she was feeling adventurous. Her grandparents, busy tending to the garden, barely glanced up as she announced her plans to shop for school supplies in the city. They nodded absently, showing no distrust at all.
Josette had dressed modestly for their benefit—jeans and a loose top. But she had tucked a shopping bag, already bulging with her mini dress and sexy undergarments, into her car beforehand. At a rest stop, she transformed herself, shedding her country girl garb for city sophistication. The mini-dress clung to her figure, and the fabric whispered against her skin as she moved. Loren had appreciated good taste, and Josie had had gobs of good taste. She had filled her closet with tight dresses like this one. These were fashions that made well-stacked girls look like goddesses.
Lost in thought, Josette barely noticed the scenery until the city’s skyline loomed ahead. She parked, then took the elevator from the mall ramp to the entry. She bustled to Serenity Couture, where the air smelled of lavender and citrus. The staff in white coats greeted her amiably, eager to guide her into a curtained room where there sat a fancy chair.
Josette closed her eyes as they worked their magic. The stylist’s fingers massaged fragrant oils into her scalp, the manicurist’s touch was gentle yet precise, and the makeup artist consulted her on every detail. Pampering was new to Josette; it made her feel valued. She let her attendants do what they wanted as she experienced new sensations, letting herself drift on the flattering waves of their attention.
When the beauticians helped her up and led her to the full-length mirror, she gasped. The reflection staring back was a stranger—sleek, radiant. Her hair shimmered, her nails gleamed, and her makeup stressed her features with artful precision. She looked like a model from Maxim Magazine. The reflected girl was the exact type that Loren would most like to have been seen with.
She rotated to admire herself from every angle, whispering, “Wow.” The stylist beamed with pride at hearing that one-word of approval. The makeup artist then handed Josette a business card and told her to, “Come back anytime.”
Once left alone in the booth, Josette put on the shoes from home and checked herself out in the mirror. A shiver ran through her when she saw how the high heels added to the long line of her already incredible legs.
Behind her, a voice exclaimed, “You look great!”
She looked back and saw a guy. He was in his early twenties, and his eyes weren’t fixed on her makeup job, but on her legs. “Thanks,” she said warily.
“I think your outfit could use some sort of accessory,” he remarked, his smile too eager. "I'll buy you something cute, if you'd like."
Josette’s guard went up. “And what do you get?” she asked.
“Your company for lunch,” he said, his tone light but his eyes intense.
“Lunchtime is past,” she reminded him.
“We can call it a late lunch,” the man persisted. He was fixing her gaze with a cocky smile.
Josette shook her head, firmly refused to take gifts from a stranger. She then resumed admiring herself. The stranger hesitated briefly, then left. But the encounter had made Josette jumpy. A guy had actually tried to “pick her up.” That a college-age dude had the eye for Loren Meford was such a ridiculous idea that she almost laughed.
Then, taking a deep breath, Josette left the shop. Because she wasn’t used to these shoes, the uneven texture of the sidewalk outside tripped her. She fell into the decorative bushes planted as a trim next to the curb.
Strangers hurried up to assist her to her feet. Mortified, the girl thanked them and hurried away. A block away, she sat down on a cement street bench, trying to forget her embarrassment.
“Are you okay?” a woman passerby asked.
Josette waved her off.
“Young lady, I think you could find a happier life if you visited our mission and talked to people. Others there have escaped lives like yours."
Josette looked up at the stranger’s beatific smile. Without saying more, the lady pushed a card into her hand. Then she turned away and continued her stroll.
Josette read the card. It was issued by a religious mission offering help and support for runaway girls and hookers! Hookers? Was the woman that clueless, or merely playing a trick?
Josette suddenly wanted to get out of people's sight for a while. She scurried into a fast-food place and ordered an orange juice. The boy who served her didn't bother to conceal admiration of her cleavage.
While sipping her juice while sitting in a lonely spot, she had a funny feeling. It was like box-elder bugs scurrying over her body. She was suddenly sure that people were staring at her. Onlookers, primarily young men, enjoyed the spectacle. She sat up, straightened, and decamped.
While fast-walking along the curve, her backward glance saw two boys walking behind her. She wondered if they had followed her out of the food joint. A mall entrance ahead offered refuge, and she hurried through its doors. She didn’t stay long, but quickly sought a back exit. Once outside, shame washed over her. What if being followed and watched were only her imagination?
Josette pressed ahead and paused in front of the city art museum. She would have recognized that statue of Prometheus, assailed by his vulture, anywhere. To Loren, it looked like Hercules was being attacked by a chicken. But today she wasn’t Loren and didn’t feel like smiling.
Indoors, the museum’s exhibits were bathed in soft light. Feeling better in the dim light, Josette suddenly became aware of people still staring at her. The crowd included men and boys, but they made themselves look sneaky when they glanced away, trying to make it seem they weren’t spying on her. Being unassuming, Loren rarely attracted notice. Girl-type beauty certainly came at a high price.
She left the museum without having seen much and stopped next at the Green Parrot Cafe. It was almost 1:00 pm, and she was ready for lunch. She ordered a pasta dinner with a cup of tomato juice to go with it.
But trying to navigate the crowd, she stumbled into a server who bumped her elbow. The juice splashed her face and dress, and sticky cheese and pasta crawled down to her ankles, covering everything that the juice had missed. Everyone around her turned her way to gawk.
Josette fled into the restroom, but the men inside were startled and hurriedly adjusted their clothing. One clown called out that she was the most convincing transvestite he’d ever seen. “If you get the operation, look me up!” he joked.
Josette swung about and dashed away. Her dress caught on the door handle, and one side of her dress ripped open. She dropped everything and held the fabric closed with both hands. One diner called out, “Keep out of sight, miss! I’ll get you a cover-up!”
When the lady returned a minute later, she was carrying a jacket with the restaurant logos on it. Went to the sink to wash up. She was a mess, her makeover job going down the drain along with the tomato juice. She tossed her ruined dress into the wastebasket. Damn! she thought. That was the best dress that Josie owned!
Wearing the jacket, Josette left the store and headed for the family clothing shop nearby. She bought inexpensive clothes, changed, and left.
Afterward, Josette went back to the cafe and entered it shyly, like a fugitive from justice. She hung the borrowed smock over the back of a steel customer chair before fleeing.
Fed up with this cruel city, she fled to her car and drove to a mini-mall on the city’s fringe. Feeling weak from not eating, she slouched into the local Burger King. Prices had doubled compared to those of a few years prior. But all the fast-food places were price-gouging these days. Because she hadn’t bought shoes, she had enough money to purchase a milkshake, a burger, and French fries. The dining crowd was small, so she easily found a secluded booth.
A boy her age approached. “May I share your booth?” he asked.
Josette scowled. There was plenty of seating space available. She told the youth, “I was just about to leave, anyway.” Carrying the leftover food, she went back to her car and finished eating there. When finished, she took her car out to the highway.
When she reached her grandparents’ house, her grandfather was mowing the lawn. When he saw her sticky hair and anguished look, he switched off the machine. “What is it, honey?” he asked.
Josette fibbed, blaming her appearance on a lawn sprinkler. The blonde girl stayed near to the house for the next couple of days. Grandpa and Grandma took her around to see their favorite local spots. Despite a boring tour, the family's presence improved her spirits. The next morning, because of Grams having a doctor appointment, Josette was left alone. She passed the empty hours taking country walks. Mostly, she was thinking about school. She had to pose as Josette Melford. There, she would encounter strangers who would think she was their close friend. When they realized she didn’t know their names, what would they think?
#
Josette left her grandparents on Sunday morning and returned to Westbrook before dark. Her mother asked questions. Josette’s vacation trip must have sounded blank since she was leaving out all her humiliating experiences. Just before bedtime, Josette picked out the slacks, socks, and a shirt that she intended to wear to school the next day. Let the other girls dress hot; she didn’t feel like it.
Josette sat in the school parking lot for five minutes the next morning, dreading the idea of entering the school building. She felt unprepared to step into a familiar place as a stranger. With a deep breath, the girl left the car and walked through the school’s double doors as if she were approaching an execution chamber. People looked her way.
A girl approached, dressed in jeans and a fancy printed T-shit. Josette fortunately remembered her face and name from the yearbook. Amanda, drawing nigh, smiled uncertainly, “Josie? Why didn’t you wear your special clothes today?”
Josette sent back a false grin. “What do you mean?” she asked. “What’s so important about the first day of school?”
“The entire gang agreed we should wear our best new summer tees on opening day.”
“I forgot,” Josette said. Sorry. I’ve got to go get my class schedule at the gymnasium.
Amanda called after her. “Will I be able to catch you later?!”
“Maybe,” Josette mumbled.
Folding tables littered the gymnasium; teachers and administrators distributed first-semester schedules. Josette was given a folder with the name “Josette Medford” written on it. She nearly missed the English class bell. Fortunately, the teacher took names and afterward let everyone go. The less she had to do, the more she liked it.
Following English came Social Studies. That class comprised mostly males who stared at her. She wondered how many of these people she was supposed to know.
At lunch, someone called her name and waved her over to their table, where other strangers sat. These affluent, stylish kids habitually treated Loren as if he were invisible. Josette turned away. She was in the mood to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.
Josette searched for familiar faces, like a castaway seeking fellow survivors.
Josette spotted Darrell Rivers lunching in a solitary spot. She sauntered toward the boy, steeling herself to make a good impression. She had to pretend that she didn’t know him.
Darrell looked up bemusedly when she asked, “Hi, Darrell. Mind if I join you?”
Josette could guess what was running through her friend’s mind. Whenever an unpopular boy was accosted by a popular girl, it almost always meant he was being drafted into a practical joke.
“No, not at all!” the boy said. He pulled his cup and lunch tray closer to himself to give her more room. His movement was so quick that some of his chocolate milk sloshed.
Josette laughed lightly and cleaned up the spill with a table napkin. “I don’t think we’ve spoken before. I’m Josette Melford,” she said.
“I’ve seen you around,” Darrell replied, staring perplexedly at his tray to avoid meeting her glance.
“I’ve heard you’re a cool guy,” the blonde said. Darrell looked up mutely, unable to fashion a reply. Noting that, she said, “Knock knock!”
Darrell’s face scrunched. Was she going to tell a joke? “Who’s there?” he tentatively replied.
“A broken pencil!” Josette grinned.
“A broken pencil, who?” Darrell asked cautiously.
“Never mind, it’s pointless!”
Darrell’s eyes lit up, and he laughed. “Good one!”
The youth then resumed eating.
Wanting to have a conversation, Josette said, “I’ve had a dull summer. How was yours?”
Her willingness to talk surprised Darrell.
“Uh, fine. I did a lot of reading. You...you don’t read science fiction, do you?” he asked.
“I love science fiction!” Josette answered emphatically. “I especially like John Norman’s Gor stories.”
She enjoyed seeing his agape expression. All the phony feminists thought it was cool to parrot the pack and declare they hated the sexist John Norma. But Josette had inside information that Darrell had read every one of the Gor books.
The youth’s puzzled face broke into a smile. “I thought it was only boys who read those stories.”
“Boys have great tastes,” said the pert blonde. “But you shouldn’t be surprised. Haven’t you heard Norman has a huge female following?”
That’s what I heard; however, I’m uncertain why.
“It’s the slave girl stuff!” Josette pronounced confidently. “Girls love all that harem stuff just as much as boys do.”
Darrell murmured, “I wouldn’t guess that from their conversation.”
Josette changed the subject. “Say, did you see _Top Gun: Maverick Two?”
“Yeah, I did!” said the boy.
“It was super great!
They talked about movies until the clock hands drew perilously close to 1:00.
When Josette stood up, she asked, “Darrell, my cousin used to play war games with guys in this town. He’s about our age. Do you remember meeting Loren Melford?”
“I don’t know any Melford except you,” Darell said. He glanced at the clock. In five minutes, he had to be in class. “It’s been nice meeting you,” he said.
“I’m glad we’ve been able to talk,” she replied. “You’re interested in a lot of the same things I am.
Maybe we can talk again soon.”
Darrell looked dazed. “How soon will that be?”
She was enjoying his disbelief. “Faster is better.”
Darrell smiled abashedly. “I’m here every day,” he said.
Josette gave a departing smile and a nod. As she descended to the ground floor, she felt a world better.
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 5