The Center: Face of the Enemy
by: Enemyoffun
One month has passed since escaping the Syndicate and Becca is now in The Center. But everything is far from good. Even though she's escaped the Syndicate, she's not sure if she can trust the Center.
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Author's Note: Here's a short little Christmas tale based in the Center universe, I came up with it this morning and rushed to get it done so I could post it today. Its a sweet little tale and doesn't really add much to the overall Center universe but its kinda fun. I'd liked to thank djkauf for the editing and wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.
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The tone during the ride over was quiet but I guess I couldn’t blame them. It’s not every day that a team gets sent out with a freak like me. Yes, I called myself a freak, you would too if you knew me. You see I’m not exactly the first choice for a mission but apparently I was the best one for the job. Ok, so not really, but I was available and I needed to start somewhere. Yes there’s a story behind that and yes it’s interesting but I don’t think it’s necessary. No, not because I’m a bitch, well, I am I guess but the only reason I’m not telling is because its already been told. You see I’m not exactly what you’d call a good person; well, at least I wasn’t until a few months ago.
But Dr. Tipps has been helping me with that. She’s a good person, contrary to what some purple streaked people might think. When they brought me in, I was kind of a wreck. I think they called me Priority One or something. After arriving---unconscious---I might add, I was rushed straight to the medical wing. They kept me sedated, which I guess isn’t anything new to me. There were a lot of doctors; at least I think they were all doctors. You see I have this thing, I can hear people when I’m asleep. It’s kinda a cool little ability, I wish it was my only one. But unfortunately, that’s not really the case.
Now where was I, oh yeah, Dr. Tipps? I woke up a day after they brought me in and there was this woman there. She introduced herself as Dr. Tipps and told me she was there to help. But I didn’t really trust her. I’ve been with a lot of doctors in my life, hell, my Father was one. They all seemed nice at first, showering me with praise and gifts. Then things started to happen. At first, I had no control over it after I changed. I didn’t even know what I was doing until people started screaming. That’s when more tests came. I started out at Section Four---they called it that, I call it Hell Number One---I liked it there at first. There were kids my age, going through the same problems as me. Then they got scared of me, all of them. That’s when they moved me---they sedated me and took me to Section One---Hell Number Two.
I was happy there for a little bit. Then the tests came. I think that’s when I started to regress. You see I’m a normal sixteen year old girl now---real name Ethan Boone---new name, Abomination. No, just kidding but pretty close, actually. I’m not exactly normal either, not as far as girls my age go anyway. I was young when they first brought me in, too young to understand what was going on. When I got to Section One and the tests started, I regressed my image to all those around me. So even though I was X Years Old, I always made myself appear about six.
Kinda fitting I think, considering what I can do. I’ve been called a lot of names: Nightmare Queen, Scarecrow, Fear Monger. Officially, I was a Dominator, Class Three---by Center standards---the Syndicate called me Subject 0F02-Beta. My father, Dr. Phillips, called me Melanie. I gave myself the last name Crane, kinda fitting if you ask me. After all, they called me the Scarecrow a lot.
But here I am digressing once again.
Where was I---Oh yeah, Dr. Tipps? When I first met her, I wouldn’t even look at her. She talked, trying to get me to talk to her but all I wanted to do was stare out the window. That’s when she moved me from the Infirmary into my own private room---not sure how she swung that. She tried getting through to me there, too. But I still wasn’t ready to talk. I was afraid to open, afraid to let anyone in just in case something bad happened again. I don’t like people getting close because whenever they do they either go away or they betray me. Dr. Tipps tried her hardest to break my shell but I resisted. I mean how was I to know that these people weren’t the bad guys. After all, they captured me. Ok, I was a bit delusional and fearful. But that didn’t stop the good doctor. She kept coming day after day.
About a month later, she got through to me. She helped me see some things about myself. She helped me realize that the child persona that I projected was a defense mechanism. She helped me see past it all. Contrary to what I believed before, she helped me become a better person and showed me that the Center was a good place to live. I owe her my life, my new newer life that is. I think I’ve had more than one rebirth. After our mutual breakthrough, she convinced the Colonel and Mrs. Fine to allow me into the regular population.
That was two months ago. I’ve been taking life one step at a time ever since. Then Dr. Tipps came to me with a mission, one that I was meant for, her words not mine.
______________________
“A mission” I asked, “are you serious?”
Dr. Tipps smiled. She was sitting in the chair on the other side of my single bedroom, a folder on her lap. She was the only one who came to visit me. I had friends---ok, maybe only one, Marcus. Yep, that Marcus, the kid who was there that brought me. I think he figured we were kindred or something. He and I had a lot in common. He was a Telepath, a powerful one. He was the closest thing to a Dominator the Center had---I was the only one apparently.
I smiled as big as I could. I’d been wanting to go on a mission for a while now. Things around the Center were slow these days. After this and that----I don’t need to bore you with the details---but let’s just say the excitement was over. I was getting kinda bored actually, wondering when it was going to be my turn for some action. I think everyone was getting kinda tired of having me lounge around too. It turns out that labeling me a Fear Monger was a little immature. Yes, I was still a Dominator and yes, I could still get into other people’s heads, but fear wasn’t the only thing I could manifest. It turns out that I have a thing for illusions of all kind. So instead of just tapping into what terrifies someone the most, I can do other things as well.
Dr Tipps set the folder on my little table., pushing aside the stacks of books I had there. I’m a reader, a big one. That’s my father’s influence; he was a big reader too. She opened the folder, showing me a few pictures. My eyes widened, she smiled. “Yep, that’s what you think it is.”
“Santa’s Village?”
She laughed. “According to our precogs, the Emergence will happen here. There’s a possibility that a lot of people are going to get hurt.”
I nodded. I knew all about that, I’d done my fair share of hurting myself. I flipped a few pages. The picture of the kid staring back at me looked normal enough. He was a skinny kid, with lots of freckles and bright red hair. He looked like Ron Weasley a bit. It was hard to believe that this guy was going to cause so much destruction. I read the name underneath, Victor Cruise.
“What’s he going to do?”
“He’s a Cryokinetic”
I nodded. We had a few of those. In fact, I sat next to one in History class, her name is Gloria, she’s kinda cool. No pun intended. “Why do they need me?”
Ok I’ll be the first to admit it. I’m not a fighter. I can fire a gun---I’ve had some training here and at the Syndicate---but that’s the extent of it. With a power like mine, I don’t need a lot of combat training. I’m a weapon onto itself. But to bring me a long on something like this, that must have been desperate. I suppose I screw with the kid’s head but there were a lot of other people more qualified to do that, Marcus being one of them.
“I’m not going to lie to you. This being your first mission, they need you on crowd control.”
I sighed. So that was it. I guess I couldn’t blame them. After all what good could an illusion girl do in an actual fight, especially against a guy who could probably throw icicles or something. Ok, I could probably really mess him up but I made a vow to myself to never do anything like that again.
The rest of the folder contained details of the mission, including my team. I smiled when I saw who the team leader was…
___________________________
“You ok” asked Marcus, brushing his hand across my thigh.
I turned away from the window, snapping out of my many thoughts. I’d been watching the snow covered road go by, moving ever so slowly. My stomach was in knots and it was taking everything I could bring to bear not to throw up. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I mean the last time I was out and about was several months ago and the last time it’s been with other people had been years. So to say I was nervous was actually only a part of it. I was horrified. I didn’t know how to interact with people anymore, not normal ones anyway. Dr. Tipps gradually introduced me into the general population at the Center, first interacting with Marcus and the team who brought me and then with others.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Marcus squeezed my hand. “You’re going to be Ok; you’ve come a long way.”
I nodded. I turned to him and smiled, my heart skipping a beat. Never in a million years would I have thought that any guy would make me feel this way. But I couldn’t help it. There was just something about those icy blue eyes of his that seemed to make me melt inside. I never knew what it was like to be a boy; I was six when I turned after all. So I’d spent the last ten years of my life living as a girl, growing up, as any girl should. Before they isolated me and then put me into a coma, I had the life that a normal little girl lived. I had dolls and tea parties and wore frilly pink dresses. Being a boy was something that I was but it wasn’t something that I really remembered being. Having him staring at me made something stir inside of me, something that I’d never felt before. I turned away quickly, so he wouldn’t see my blush.
“We’re coming up on our destination now, sir,” said the Private from the front seat.
“Thanks, Thomas” said Marcus, letting go of my hand.
I turned back to take a look at the rest of the team. There were six of us altogether, including the driver, Private Jones. I didn’t know the others well but Marcus had handpicked them specifically. The other two E’s---Becca’s word not mine---were both kinetics. They were both sitting behind us, looking like solemn sentinels, quiet and staring ahead. I knew Jessica but only from class. She was an Aerokinetic, which matched well with her wispy, white blonde hair. She had this little beady necklace that was currently in her hands, rolling the beads around in her fingers. Sitting next to her was Franklin---Frankie to his friends, I wasn’t one. He was tall and gangly and a real hothead. I don’t think you need to know his ability but just in case he was trying to show off by snapping his fingers, making a little flame appear on his fingertips.
We were unofficially the new Delta Team. The old one was the team that brought me in from Section One. Its original leader was Becca Howe but the team disbanded after she was given control of SIRS---Stealth Infiltration Reconnaissance Squad. Kris reorganized the team and gave leadership to Marcus. I’m not sure if this was going to be the regular team for every mission but the prospect kinda excited me. I think I could get used to going out on missions, helping people.
Frankie finally spoke. “C’mon this has to impress you,” he said, making the flames dance across his fingertips.
Jessica rolled her eyes. Then she leaned forward and blew. A small gust of wind filled the cramped SUV interior, blowing off his flames. Frankie frowned, Jessica and I laughed. Both of them turned as one, looking at me strangely.
“It speaks,” said Frankie, smirking. “We thought you were a mute.”
“Nope. Just the scary girl who can make you live out your greatest fear.” The color drained from his face. “Let me guess, everyone ignores you; right?”
Jessica laughed. Frankie frowned and turned away.
I smiled and turned around. Marcus looked at me and shook his head. I turned back to the window, watching as snow began to fall. I hate the snow; the last time I was in a snowstorm was on the streets. I don’t remember much of my parents. I know that my mother died in childbirth---that’s normal for people like us I guess. My father was kind of a deadbeat---my real dad I mean. He was a drunk who squandered whatever hard earned cash he made on booze. I’m not really sure when he abandoned me. I vaguely remember going to a supermarket and wandering down an aisle by myself. No one seemed to notice me. I ended up on the streets, in an alley. A few days later, I was in foster care. Because I was so young, things are kinda fuzzy though.
“Here we are” said Marcus, softly in my ear.
I looked ahead, over the heads of the two soldiers in the front seat. Sure enough, there was a winter wonderland laid out before us. When I saw the picture of the village in the folder, I thought it was some kind of joke but now that I saw it in person, there was nothing funny about it. It looked just like Santa’s Village should. There was a wall around it---brick probably, but made to look like gingerbread. Beyond that were a large castle---probably made of plywood---and several other smaller buildings around it. I never believed in Santa Claus, my father always thought things like that was foolish and frivolous. He was a man of science and as a man of science; he told me there was no point in filling my head with foolish things. He still gave me presents at Christmas but he never pretended they were from anyone but himself.
Marcus gave orders to Private Jones. Our SUV pulled into the little parking lot, trying to find a place to park. It was jam packed with vehicles. We found a spot at the end, beating out a little car for it. A woman behind the wheel gave us a look and the finger. I scoffed, so much for Christmas Spirit. Jessica seemed to think the same because she made a nasty comment behind me.
Once we were all parked and set, Marcus laid down the plan. “According to our intel, the target will be emerging in about an hour. We’re going to break up into pairs.” He turned to Jessica. “You and Frankie are one, Private Thomas and Melanie will be another.” He looked at Jones. “I need you to stay with the truck.”
Jones and Thomas nodded. Jessica groaned.
“You’re really going to stick him with me,” she said, with a refined British accent.
How cool was that? Even though she was as American as you and I, she somehow picked up this really cool accent after she Emerged.
“What about you?” asked Frankie.
“I’m going to scan the crowd, seeing if I can find Victor before things get out of hand.”
After that, we broke up. Jessica and Frankie went off, arguing like a pair of siblings. I turned to Thomas. He was a tall guy, with a thick neck and closed cropped blonde hair. I suppose he was cute if you like that whole soldier thing. But I wasn’t Emma so he did nothing for me. He gave me a nod and I shrugged. I guess that was the only thing I was going to get out of him. So I started walking, he kept close to my heels. Our cover was as brother and sister, even though there was no way anyone would mistake him for my brother. Not that he looked all that odd or anything. I was the odd one. What with my long green hair and short stature, I’m barely five feet tall.
We slipped through the crowd, trying our best to mingle. I groaned. Everything was overwhelming. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in a place with this many people. There were a lot of kids, too, bringing a pang to my heart. Until very recently, I’d been one of them. Ok, not really but everybody thought I was. Dr. Tipps said it was a defense mechanism, a way for me to hide behind my fear and anger. So I projected the image of me being a little girl to the rest of the world. Marcus and the other telepaths were the only ones who could see through it. Dr. Tipps spent a long time helping me getting over my fear and my “regression” as she called it.
I dropped the façade about a month ago. But it still pained me to see all these kids running around and not being one of them.
“Not a Christmas fan?” asked Thomas over my shoulder.
“Not a people fan, actually.”
He nodded. He didn’t say anymore after that.
The two of us had about an hour to spare so we disappeared into the crowd, keeping our eyes open too. All the workers wandering around were dressed in horrible Christmas sweaters with Santa hats and fake smiles. They were weaving through the crowds too, handing kids and adults alike candy canes and things like that. One of them passed one to me but when he looked at Thomas, he turned green and rushed off. Thomas frowned so I passed over mine. I’m not a sweets person. The Private was like a kid in a candy store, directing me to one Christmas themed booth after another. Me, I barely paid attention. But he was really into it. He bought some cotton candy and candy apple. There was a stall selling gingerbread cookies and he bought three of those and another stall giving away free hot apple cider, he took two cups and tried handing me one but I waved it off. There were game booths too. Stupid things meant for kids, like Pin the Tail on the Reindeer and Beanbag Toss through a wooden cut out of Santa’s Head.
But the main attraction of the whole place was Santa of course. There was a huge line of little kids waiting to see the big guy himself. Santa---who was probably a fat guy in a suit---was sitting in a little mock wooden structure, meant to resemble a castle or something. There was a large chair where the phony sat and a bunch of huge fake presents scattered about. Next to him was a giant Christmas tree and beside him was a huge velvet bag with little stuffed animals. After sitting on his lap and getting his picture taken, he would hand a stuffed toy to a little kid and then another would sit on his lap. I smirked. I thought elves were supposed to do those kinds of things.
I scanned the crowd, looking at all the delusional little brats. I was barely paying attention when I spotted him. At first, I wondered what a teenager would be doing in a line to see Santa until I saw the little red headed girl in front of him. She was cute in her little green velvet dress, white tights and pigtails. The file didn’t say Victor had a sister but I suppose there was a reason he was here, after all. There weren’t many teenagers except those who worked here and us, of course. I looked at Victor and I could the telltale signs of the Change already. He looked awful, sweating and fidgeting.
Damn it. I tapped my throat mike. “Marcus, I found him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep, same flaming red hair and freckles.”
He sighed. “Ok, don’t do anything. I’ll talk to whoever is in charge here; see if they can evacuate the area.”
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“You read the report, you know the alternative.”
I nodded. According to the file, when Victor emerges he sends a wave of ice in every direction around him, freezing hundreds of people. I looked at the happy little girl in front of him, dancing on the balls of her feet. There was no way I could allow that to happen. I bit my lip and moved closer. I know Marcus told me to stay put but I needed to get Victor away from all these little kids. I took a deep breath and slowly made my way through the throng of people, trying my hardest to get to them. Thomas was at my heels, his voice squawking in my earpiece. I ignored him. There was no way I was going to stand by and watch all these people die.
I was almost to them when someone stepped in front of me. He was an older guy, looking flustered. He gave me a once over and smiled. “Excuse me, Miss. I don’t mean to be a pest but could you do us the biggest favor ever?”
I groaned. I didn’t have time for this. “I’m kinda busy sir.”
He sighed. “Please, you’ll be doing us all a big favor, especially the kids.”
I groaned. “What do you need?”
“Well our usual Elf came down with the flu and we’re kinda swamped. You’re the only one I’ve seen that can fit her costume. Do you think you could fill in for her, at least until her replacement gets here.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me. I opened my mouth to tell him off but Thomas beat me too it. “She’d love to sir. My sister loves Christmas.”
The man smiled happily. I shot Thomas a big glare.
“Thank you so much, Miss,” said the man, gently taking my arm and leading the way to wherever.
“You’re so dead,” I mumbled into my throat mike, knowing that Thomas heard me.
_________________________
This is so embarrassing. I was standing in front of a floor length mirror, looking at myself in the tiniest green dress I’d ever seen. It had white fuzzy trim and I was wearing cute little bell shoes and a stupid hair. Mr. Spooner---the older guy from before---tried to get me to wear the fake ears but I drew the line there. It was bad enough that I wore the makeup that went along with it, making my cheeks look rosy and glittery. I groaned. There was no way I was going out there like this. As soon as everyone saw me, I’d be the laughing stock of the whole place.
But right now, I didn’t have time for that. I looked at the clock. There was only forty-five minutes left before Victor emerged. So far I had heard no announcement to get these people out of here. I bit my lip. If Marcus didn’t hurry up soon these kids were in serious trouble. That’s the only reason I was still here. I needed to be with these kids, I needed to make sure they were Ok. Ok so I’m a softy after all but there’s no way I can stand by and let little kids get turned into popsicles, especially Victor’s little sister.
There was a knock on the door. I groaned, tugging on the hem of the tiny dress.
Mr. Spooner opened the door. “Ah, I knew it would fit. C’mon, there’s a huge crowd outside.”
I nodded and slowly walked toward the entryway.
Once outside the little changing booth on the other side of the wooden cutout castle, I walked around the corner and sure enough, there was a huge crowd. The line was three times as long as before. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see Victor and his little sis anymore. They were really far down the line when I spotted them before but things were moving really slowly. I did see someone else, though or rather some ones. The whole team was there, lingering about. Jessica and Frankie looked at me, both of them trying to contain their laughter. Thomas had a big smile on his face; he even gave me a thumbs up. Marcus just stared at me with those piercing blue eyes of his, causing me to blush.
“Ho, ho ho” said Santa loudly and then under his breath said.
“Where the hell have you been, bitch, I’m dying here.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me. “Trouble at the North Pole, Santa”
“Don’t smart mouth me. Get you pretty little ass into gear and start handing out those things. The faster they go, the faster I can get these little bastards off my lap.”
What a jackass! I rolled my eyes and went to work. Things moved a lot faster with the two of us working. He talked to the kids; I smiled real big and passed out little stuffed toys. Every so often, I’d look to see if I could see Victor and his sister. I thought I spotted a bit of red but it was moving away. I bit my lip and tapped my mike.
“I think the subject is moving off.”
“He is” said Marcus in my ear. “Jessica, you and Frankie stay on him. I’ll go see what’s taking that Evac so long.”
I watched as my three teammates disappeared. I sighed. At least Victor was away from this crowd now. I relaxed a little and continued passing out little gifts. I actually started to get into it, smiling and laughing. I can’t say I was having a wonderful time but it was a lot better than I thought I was going to have. Things were going pretty well, too. We still had a lot of stuffed animals left and the line was moving a lot faster now. I scanned the line, trying to see who was next and then I saw her. It was Victor’s little sister, she kept looking worriedly over her shoulder. I bit my lip. Damn it. It was good that she was nowhere near him but she looked really scared.
“Ho, ho, ho” said Santa loudly, getting my attention. “My Elf, Smelly, will give you a toy now.”
I turned to a little boy standing patiently in front of me. I reached into the bag, grabbed a stuffed elephant and stuck it into his hands. The little boy smiled happily and ran off to his mother. I turned back to Victor’s sister but she was gone. Son of a bitch. I looked along the line and saw her or at least her retreating back. Of course, she’d go looking for her missing brother. I bit my lip and made a split decision. I took off after her, much to the chagrin of the fake Jackass Santa and all the little kids in line. I heard someone shout for me, I think it was Mr. Spooner. But I didn’t give a damn. That little girl’s safety was far more important than anything else.
As I was running, I heard a voice come over the loud speakers.
“Ladies and Gentlemen. We apologize for the inconvenience but Santa’s Village has to close earlier today.”
There were some moans from people around me. I looked at my watch; we only had about ten minutes left now. It’s amazing how quickly time flies when you’re handing little kids stuffed things next to a jackass. As I ran, people started pushing their way in front of me, moving toward the exits no doubt. I pushed through them, wishing I were a lot bigger than I really was. Someone stepped on my foot and I squealed, another person slammed into me, knocking me to my knees. Another person helped me up; I smiled and thanked him before running on.
Then I heard it, a little girl’s voice. “Victor, Victor where are you?”
I sighed and pushed my way ahead.
I found her a few feet ahead, standing on a bench, trying to see over the ground. She couldn’t have been more than six. There was a bunch of adults walking past her, completely ignoring her. What the hell kind of people ignore a child in distress. I groaned and pushed forward. The little girl was hopping up and down, trying to see over the throng of people. She continued to shout for her brother, I could see the tears in her eyes. I was almost to her when she jumped off the bench and disappeared into the crowd. Son of a bitch. I bit my lip and plowed on, shoving aside a young couple, apologizing quickly as I pushed through them.
I spotted her little red head bobbing through the crowd, making her way toward the center of the Village. There was a little Nativity scene set up there, coupled with real live animals. Unfortunately something else was there, too, Victor. It took me to stand on my tippy toes to see him and he didn’t look so good. He was on the ground, groaning, clutching his chest. I saw Jessica and Frankie there too, trying to talk to me, speaking reassuringly to him.
I wasn’t the only one who spotted him though. “Victor” shouted the little girl, pushing her way through a sea of legs to reach her brother.
NO!
I ran as fast as I could. I was almost to her when Marcus stepped in, sweeping her into his arms. He spun around and saw me, passing the struggling little girl into my arms. “Get her out of here, quickly.”
The girl kicked and squirmed. “I need my brother. Daddy said not to leave him. He’s supposed to be watching me today.”
“Its ok, sweetie” I said, she started to cry. “Your brother is going to be fine.”
I carried her away from the center of the village. I went back the way I came, finding it easier going now that all the crowd was gone. I found the bench she was standing on before and sat down, slipping her out of my arms. She finally looked up at me and her eyes widened.
“Are you a real Elf?”
I smiled. “Of course I am,” I said, showing her my hair. “How many normal people do you see with long green hair?”
She grabbed a little bit of it, running it through her fingers. “It’s real pretty.”
I bipped her nose with my finger. “You’re really pretty. What’s your name, Princess?”
“Daisy” she said in the cutest voice possible.
I smiled. “That’s a pretty name. What do you want for Christmas, Daisy?”
She opened her mouth to tell me then frowned. “I can’t tell you. I wrote a letter to Santa.” Then something seemed to dawn on her. “Oh no my letter, I was going to give it to him.”
She reached into her pocket; taking out a folded red envelope, on the outside was words scrawled in crayon. She clasped it in her fingers and cried. I stood up, trying to pull her close. But she pushed away and took off running. Damn she was fast. I gave chase, knowing very well where she was going. It didn’t take her long. I was right before her but when I got there; I found her standing in front of the empty chair, crying her eyes out, the letter on the ground.
She turned to me, bawling. “I missed him. He was right here and I missed him.”
I walked over to her and hugged her. “It’s ok sweetie. Why don’t you give me the letter and I’ll give it to him for you.”
She shook her head. “I need to give it to him or else I won’t get what I want.”
I nodded. She was right. I didn’t know much about Santa Claus but that sounded about right. I looked around, making sure there was no else in the area. But the place was deserted. That bastard Santa Claus was probably the first person to flee. He was definitely getting coal in his stocking this year. I bit my lip; yeah, I know I do that a lot. But what I was about to do was serious stuff and I had to make sure that I was going to do it right. So I checked once again that we were alone then closed my eyes. I concentrated as hard as I could and then reopened my eyes.
I pointed to the chair, Daisy looked too. There was a sparkle of red and green sparks then slowly Santa Claus appeared on the seat, laughing and smiling. Daisy’s mouth fell open. It was a good likeness, the best one I could conjure. Daisy scooped up her letter and ran for the chair, jumping onto his lap. I found if I concentrated hard enough I could make the illusions tangible as long as the person didn’t move too much. So little Daisy was actually able to sit on Santa’s lap.
“Hello, Daisy” he said, in a rumbling jovial voice. “I see you’ve been a very good girl this year.”
Daisy nodded, awestruck. “I have a letter for you, Santa.”
My illusionary Claus reached out and took the letter from her tiny fingers. I turned away, allowing the little girl to talk to him in private. I tapped my throat mike. “How are things over there?”
Marcus came on a few seconds later. “Situation contained. The new Victor is unconscious but she’s doing fine. How’s the little girl?”
I turned around. Daisy was giggling and laughing with Santa, having a good time. “She’s good.”
Marcus sighed. “Give us a few minutes then we can wrap things up.”
I smiled. “Take your time.”
___________________________
When the authorities arrived, Daisy was reunited with her father and mother---Victor’s Stepmother. I stood nearby but not too close in case she saw me. She told them all about the green haired elf and Santa Claus. Her mother held her gently, crying. Apparently, the police were looking for their teenage son. It was a sad sort of business but it was necessary I guess. I hated the fact that this little girl was going to grow up without her big brother but maybe one day she’d get to meet her new big sister. I knew it was kind of a stretch but it was the only thing that was keeping me from crying.
I sighed as Marcus came sidling up to me. “I think she’s going to be ok.”
I nodded. “What’s going to happen now?”
“We’ll have to send someone to adjust her memories, make it so her brother wandered off and left her here.”
I gasped. “You can’t do that.”
He sighed. “We don’t really have much of a choice. She saw what you did, even if she didn’t understand it. It was a sweet thing but there’s no other way.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to let anyone do anything to that little girl.”
He nodded. “We’ll discuss this on the way back.”
“You can’t let that little girl think her brother abandoned her.”
He nodded then looked at the red envelope in my hand. “What’s that?”
I lifted the envelope. After Daisy was done talking to Santa, I led her over to the entrance of the Village. I found a security man and left her with him, telling him I found her alone in the Village. He nodded. Then I went back to the Santa chair. My illusion disappeared as soon as I stopped concentrating on it but her letter was still there. I didn’t have the heart to open it but I did anyway. It was a sweet letter, written in crayon. Daisy asked for a doll and some coloring books and for her brother to stop being so mean to her. I cried as I read it but at the same time, it warmed my heart.
“It’s Daisy’s letter to Santa” I said, clasping it to my chest.
He nodded. “Did you read it?”
I shook my head. “That would be cheating.”
He smiled. “I am a mind reader you know.”
I nodded. We left the discussion at that. We both wandered over to the SUV where the rest of the team was waiting. Frankie was rubbing his arm; apparently, he got a little freezer burn. I smiled at that, anything to cool off his hot head. Jones was in the back, making sure the new Victor was secure. She looked a lot like her old self, except with less freckles and redder hair of course. In fact, she looked a lot like her sister, maybe ten years older.
“Can we stay a little bit, have some fun?” asked Jessica with pleading eyes.
Marcus sighed and shook his head. “We gotta go, the plane is waiting.”
I climbed into the SUV. Before I got all the way inside, warmth filled me. Earlier today, I thought this place was a joke but now I saw it for what it was, it was a wonderland of dreams and happy thoughts. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, Santa’s sleigh and his reindeer appeared above the sky for all the crowd to see. Everyone gasped and pointed. I saw little Daisy waving.
Hey, Christmas comes once a year. Why not have a little fun with it?
Author's Note: I thought seeing as it was April Fool's Day, I might take a stab at another Melanie Crane story. There isn't really much to this one, just a bit of fun on my part. I don't expect it to get high praise or accolades like the last. I thought it up this morning. And no its not a joke, its the true thing, so yes it is in line with all my other stories. I'd like to thank djkauf for the great editing
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You’re kidding right,” I said as Kris and I walked down the hall.
She stopped and turned to me. “Does this look like the face of someone who’s kidding?”
I shook my head. But why did it have to be there. “Isn’t there anyone else?”
Kris sighed. “Due to the nature of the situation, Melanie, I think you’re the best person suited for this kind of job.”
I nodded. This had to be some kind of horrible hazing ritual, mess with the new girl. First, it was Santa’s village a few months ago and now this, it was clear someone was punishing me. Ok, so maybe not really but it seemed awfully convenient that I was the only girl they could get to do this job. After I got back with the new girl---Victoria---formerly Victor Cruise, people praised me. It sure helped with my tarnished reputation after all. What reputation you ask, well there was this little problem about me being a big bad Dominator and hurting a lot of people. Hey, I’m getting counseling now and things are going so much better.
Things were going better for me too, all thanks to Santa. Well, not him personally but it did help. After the Village, I opened up a lot more. Our team, Delta, had been a trial thing before the mission. After it was successful, Kris made us a full team. We were sorta what she liked to call Special Circumstances, meaning that we were brought in on the really bizarre ones. I guess that’s what you get when your team leader is a wicked strong Telepath and I’m a Dominator, reformed of course. But being SC---my word, not Becca’s---meant that we didn’t always get to go out. I think the team was itching for something, I know I was but I just didn’t expect something like this.
“So when do we leave?”
Kris started walking again. “As soon as I find your other team mates.”
“I think I might know where they are.”
She nodded. “Good, it saves me from getting someone to look for them. Once you have them, meet in the debriefing room, you’ve got one hour.”
“Yes ma’am” I said, giving her a sloppy salute.
She smirked. “You don’t salute me you know.”
“I know”
She shook her head and walked off, leaving me standing there.
As soon as she was out of sight down the hall, I took off in search of the others. I didn’t need to look for Privates Jones and Thomas; both of them would either be in the Cafeteria or the Firing Range, that’s the only place they liked to hang out. There was a Barracks for the soldiers too, but I was unauthorized to go there. I also had a pretty good idea where to find Marcus too. He spent most of his free time in his room meditating, he said it helped him relax and channel his abilities. He tried to get me to join in whenever possible but all I wanted to do was fool around. Yep, you guessed it; the two of us are now officially an item. I know what you’re thinking but he’s good for me.
We hooked up the night after we got back, he was a little shy and awkward, me I was terrified. We had dinner together and then he took me to a private screening of some new Tom Cruise movie. I’m not sure how he got the Entertainment Room for just us but it was so cool. The whole thing was a bit weird at first but after a few misses, we connected. It helped that I kinda took the initiative and climbed on top of him halfway through it. We made out through the rest of the movie and I must say I’m not really sure what happened in the movie. The two of us have been together since, pretty hot and heavy too.
But enough with the mushy stuff.
I took off down the hall, heading toward where I knew I’d find two of my last three team members. Yep, two because we had a third member now as well. Seeing as she was our first pickup, Marcus petitioned to put Victoria on the team too. Kris was a little reluctant to do so at first, seeing as Vicky was sorta new to the club as it were. But Becca went to bat for her---saying she’d help Vicky train and make her a valued member of the team. The coolest thing, the two of us have gotten awfully close. I guess it helps that I did so much for her little sis. How could I not, Daisy was after all the sweetest little thing in the world.
They were actually my first stop. I didn’t take me long to get to the dormitories, the girls dorm together and the boys dorm together. I guess it helps to keep us all separated, what with all the raging hormones and things like that. I think I was one of the few on this floor who didn’t have a roommate, at least not yet. Things like that have a tendency to change really quick. Even though a lot of us were now at Beta and Gamma, there were still kids coming here every day. Vicky decided to stay here, what with circumstances being what they were.
I knocked on her door. There was a giggle and scramble from behind it. Then the door was yanked open. I smiled at the bundle of energy on the other side. Daisy smiled up at me too then threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Yep, Daisy as in Vicky’s kid sister. It was kinda a sad story really. After we took her brother---now sister---from Santa’s Village, there was an accident. Both her parents died in a horrible car crash. Daisy would have ended up in foster care, what with her not having any other relatives. But the Colonel pulled some strings, it helped that their father had a lot of pull when he was still alive---i.e. Pentagon type pull.
So now little Daisy was the Center’s first ankle biter. She was an amazing little kid, so cute and innocent. It didn’t take her long to adjust to the fact that her older brother was now her sister. The fact that the two of them didn’t look anything alike anymore---Daisy had flaming red hair that she always wore in pigtails---didn’t seem to bother her in the least.
“Melanie, are you here to play with me?”
I shook my head. “Not today, kiddo.”
She frowned. “Aww.”
I patted her on the head and she took my hand, leading me into the room. I was often Daisy’s companion whenever I had the time. It helped that I was so used to being a kid myself. Before all this started, I spent a good portion of my time masquerading as a ten year old. How you ask? Well I’m an Illusionist, I can create things that aren’t really there. It’s something to do with entering the mind and changing people’s perceptions. One of those things I used to do was make people see me as a ten year old. Dr. Tipps says it was a coping mechanism. She helped me break myself of it. But after Daisy showed up here two months ago, I saw how sad she was. It was kinda hard on her–what with her being the only kid---so I played kid with her.
“Sissy, Mel’s here” said Daisy, letting go of my hand and huffing over to her bed.
There room was a mishmash of styles. On one side it looked like it belonged to a teenager, all decked out like a teen girl might have it. On the other side, it looked like something a five year old would decorate. The Center had been very accommodating. I smiled as I looked at the clashing elements, Vicky’s pastel blue did not go at all with Daisy’s bright pink and kitty motif.
Vicky was sitting at the desk; she turned around with a smile. We were the best of friends, doing practically everything together now. Dr. Tipps said we were the best thing for each other. It helped that I was sorta socially awkward and she was the new girl. But to look at us, you would never be able to tell that we had anything in common. Me, I was the short girl with green hair and she was the tall Nordic beauty. And I mean tall. She was at least six four, towering over almost every other person here. She was also a far cry from what she used to be too. Victor used to have flaming red hair like his little sis but Vicky could have been from Sweden. She had the long blonde hair---well, it was almost white and her eyes were the iciest blue I’d ever seen.
She smiled. “Mel, what’s up?”
I looked at Daisy, then mouthed “mission.”
Vicky’s face lit up. She fist pumped then said quietly. “Let me put my game face on.”
Daisy was sitting on her bed, brushing the hair of one of her dolls. “Are you two going somewhere?”
“I have to go out for a bit but I’m going to find someone to watch you why you’re gone.”
“Mattie?”
I laughed, besides me, Mattie was the only other person that Daisy wanted to be around. It helped that Mattie was pretty much a child herself. No, I’m not insulting her; she says the same thing all the time. Mattie and I are doing better too. Before she was a little scared of me, on the basis that the two of us have known each other longer than most people here. It’s a long and jaded history and I don’t want to get into it. Suffice to say, I did some bad things to her and I’ve been trying to make up for it every single day. At least she’s gotten as far as being in the same room with me on occasion which is a big start.
“We’ll see,” said Vicky with a laugh. “It might be Emma or Brad too.”
Daisy lit up. “Do you think they’ll let me play with Klondike?”
“I think that’s a big possibility.”
Daisy started to bounce up and down. Vicky and I laughed then I left. I started back down the hall, knowing where my next stop would be.
______________________________
“Stop being so damn insufferable”
“Well I’ll stop being insufferable if you pull that stick out of your ass.”
A gust of wind buffeted me as soon as I walked into the Gym. It whipped my hair and threatened to flip my skirt up, giving everyone a nice view of my panties. I quickly pushed my skirt down before anyone looked my way. Then I marched into the room just as Frankie burst into flames. Jessica was standing ten feet away now, a whirlwind of air whipping around her body. There were several other kids in the room, most of who were running in all directions to get away from the carnage. I don’t know why Jessica and Frankie insisted on going to Gym together. Every time they did Frankie always said something stupid---usually a sexist remark---and Jessica always lost her temper. The destruction the two of them usually caused cost thousands of dollars. It looked like today was going to be another whopper. Not that I had time for that.
I stomped over, looking to see if there was anything I could use to break the two of them up. I didn’t find something but someone---a girl, I couldn’t remember her name---but she was a hydrokinetic. I snapped my fingers and pointed at the two of them. She smirked and nodded. She walked over to stand in-between the two of them, pointing her hands out. I turned my head away as I heard my two teammates scream. When I turned back around, a group of kids were gathered around laughing. Jessica and Frankie were drenched.
I finished walking over to them. “You two done bickering?”
Jessica looked at me, frowning. She was only wearing a skimpy t-shirt and a pair of short bicycle shorts, suffice to say being all wet things showed. “That wasn’t funny.”
But Frankie thought it was. “I can see your…”
“If you say the last thing you’re about to say so help me God I’ll spin you around until you’re sick.”
He shut up quickly. Someone had run off to get them towels and was now just running back. I followed the two of them as they grumbled over to the benches. As they were drying off, I told them about our mission. Jessica raised an eyebrow and Frankie smiled. Of course, he’d smile; he was going to fit right in there. When they were done drying off I followed a still grumbling Jessica into the girl’s locker room so she could change out of her wet stuff.
“That guy infuriates the hell out of me.”
I nodded. It was obviously to me and everyone else that the two of them were in love with one another. The only people who weren’t in on it were Jessica and Frankie. But with all their bickering and constant power fights, you’d think the two of them would just get over it and take the plunge. Not that I’d ever tell either one of them that. Jessica was a wicked Aerokinetic that allowed her temper to rule her and Frankie was an ass but he was a damn good pyro. The two of them were the backbone to our team, kinetics were almost a must now, especially after what happened to Becca and her team in England. Now---according to the rules---no team was allowed to go out into the field without at least one kinetic present or one in backup.
I waited until she got dressed in her horrible gray uniform then the two of us went to retrieve Frankie. He was already waiting for us. I checked my watch, wondering if it was enough time. I led the two of them out of the Gym and toward the Briefing Room. I’m not going to bore you with the details to how to get there. Instead, I’ll just say that the three of us were a bit earlier. Vicky was standing outside, leaning against the wall. When she turned and saw us, I rolled my eyes. Vicky’s idea of her game face was actually blue makeup, electric blue to be exact. Her lips, eyes and nails now all matched, fitting in nicely with her whole cryokineticness. That’s a new word as far as the Center standards go.
“That’s so cute,” said Jessica, indicating Vicky’s creativity.
She wiggled her fingers. “I couldn’t resist.”
Jessica turned to me. “We should take Mel and make her match that hair of hers.”
I stuck my tongue out as the two of them laughed.
We only had to wait in the hall for a few more minutes, then the door opened. When the four of us went inside, Marcus was already sitting at the table. Private Thomas was there as well as Dani. Marcus looked over at me and smiled, I blushed. I took the seat next to him, Vicky sat next to me. Jessica and Frankie sat at opposite ends of the table. Kris rolled her eyes at them, Dani just shook her head. Even the two of them knew that there was something going on there. After we were all seated and situated, Kris started the briefing. This was the part I was dreading. You see I had this thing about Circuses, ok not so much circuses but some of the things that went on there. I felt Marcus reach over and take my hand. He knew about my apprehension, the two of us shared all our little secrets.
“We’re going to the Circus?” asked Frankie, “you’re serious?”
Kris nodded. “This isn’t for recreation, Frank,” she said, being one of the only people who called him Frank.
She addressed the rest of us by clicking her remote, bringing up a picture of a girl on the screen. “This is Marcia Eggert, age sixteen, this is the target.”
I nodded. “What’s her thing?”
Dani answered. “We’re not sure, only that by the time you get there, she’ll have already emerged.”
“Is there urgency involved?” asked Jessica.
Kris nodded. “We have reason to believe that a rival organization will try to move in on her. We need Delta Squad to go in as quietly as possible, intercept Marcia and get her out of there before this becomes a situation that we can’t even handle.”
“It’s not them is it?” I asked, referring to the Syndicate.
I couldn’t even bring myself to say the name. If it was them, they were in a load of hurt. I’ve been waiting a long time to come face to face with those bastards again.
“We’ve not sure who it is but just be on your guard, they’re highly organized.”
“What’s the time frame?” asked Frankie.
“Five hours” said Dani “like I said before when you guys get there she’ll have already changed so this picture is pretty much useless. Your best bet is to canvas the place and look for anything out of the ordinary.”
“Out of the ordinary?” I asked “at a Circus.”
Marcus squeezed my hand tighter.
____________________________
We took the jet; it took about four hours to get to our destination. We landed in a little airstrip where an SUV was waiting. It was dark green this time; I think the Center was trying to add a little more color to their ops. Jones took the driver’s seat again while Thomas rode shotgun. I got into the second row with Jessica and Marcus while Vicky and Frankie sat behind us. Marcus held my hand the whole time, trying to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. But I knew better. Things were not going to be ok at all. It wasn’t just the people either; the people were only a part of it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m still a little wary around big crowds. People kinda scare me, what with me being locked up and sedated for so long. It still takes quite a bit for me to go out and be around them.
But Dr. Tipps was helping me get over some of that. Marcus was helping now too. Just last week, he was able to convince Kris to allot us some R&R time in the city. We even got her to let us bring Vicky and Daisy. The four of us had a pretty good day just being normal---well the three of us, Daisy is pretty normal as far as little kids go. I think they were trying to help me adjust and it worked but I’m still not one hundred percent when there’s a lot of people. So that’s one of my biggest problems about the Circus, the other I don’t even want to think about.
When the SUV stopped in front of the circus, I groaned. There was a picket fence centered around a huge colorful tent with other smaller tents around it. There were metal trailers off in the distance and lots of noise. I looked around the parking lot, seeing all the cars. So many people. Marcus still held my hand, making sure I didn’t freak. He helped me out of the vehicle, still holding my hand. I wanted to kiss him but I wasn’t sure how awkward that would make anyone else.
“Do you think we can look around a bit after?”
I turned to Frankie but Marcus beat me to it. “We’re not here for fun. There’s a girl…I mean a guy here…that’s in trouble. Why don’t we concentrate on the mission first?”
The frown on Frankie’s face reminded me of the one that Daisy often wore when something didn’t go her way. That wasn’t the only similarity between the two, trust me.
Marcus then addressed the others, Jones stayed with the SUV again. “We’re going to split up in teams of two again.” He pointed to Jessica, no doubt about to pair her with Frankie but she gave him a look. He rolled his eyes too. “Jessie, you and Mel, Frankie you and Vicky.”
Vicky groaned, Frankie pumped the air with his fist.
“You touch her I’m going to break your fingers” snapped Jessica.
“I didn’t think you cared, babe.”
“Don’t call me that, pig.”
“If you don’t like it you can always shut me up with your lips.”
Marcus groaned. “Children, please.”
Jessica and Frankie shot each other looks again. Marcus split them up then told us to get going. I took Jessica by the arm, dragging her toward the ticket booth. We were all dressed in civvies, trying to look like normal teens out doing what normal teens do. I was wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a light jacket. Jessica---ever the fashionista show off---was wearing a tank top and short jean skirt, accentuated by her knee high leather boots and over abundance of makeup. When we paid for our tickets, the pimple-faced freak behind the counter leered at us. His looks made my skin crawl.
“Hang in there, babe,” said Marcus’ reassuring voice in my head.
Dating a telepath had its advantage. I closed my eyes, sending him good, warm thoughts.
Jessica and I started at the entrance and made our way around the circle. Everything was centered around the main tent, where all the noise and laughter was coming from. There was a big line trying to get in there but I had no intention of going in there. Just thinking about what might be inside made me shudder. Instead, I concentrated on searching the faces, trying desperately to find one that looked scared or out of place. But the problem was that to me everyone looked out of place. I looked at Jessica and she frowned, apparently, she was having no such luck either.
“Let’s try some of the smaller tents,” she said, leading the way.
I followed, the two of us weaving our way through the crowd. This was just like my first mission except this time there was a little more danger. No, we were dealing with an already Emerged target and hostiles that could be anywhere. It was a scary thought indeed, a lot more scary than anything I used to be able to conjure up.
When we got to the closest tent, she went in first. I was about to follow when I felt a tug on my pant leg. I looked around, and then down. There was a little girl there, holding a pink balloon. She couldn’t have been much older than Daisy. I groaned inwardly, wondering how it was I seemed to attract them. I smiled big and bent down so that I was eye level.
“How can I help you, sweetie?”
She looked scared. “Are you a clown?”
The color drained from my face. “Why would you think that?”
She smiled. “You have clown hair.”
“Susie” said a woman, walking over and taking the girl’s hand. She gave me a look and sneered a bit. “You leave this nice girl alone.”
My hair had that effect on a lot of adults. I think they thought I did it myself, that I was either Goth or Emo. The truth was that this was my real hair, no dye job of cheap wig. It happens to the best of us I guess. At the Center, we had a rainbow of color as far as hair went, eye colors were the same. I’m not really sure why. I stood up as the mother dragged little Susie away, she shyly waved to me as they disappeared into the ground. When she was gone, I shuddered. How could she mistake me for one of those things? Yes, if you haven’t guessed it already I have this thing about clowns.
And when I say thing I don’t mean fetish either. I mean, well, don’t laugh. But clowns scare the hell out of me. Yes, this out of the self proclaimed Fear Mongers mouth. Not that I go by that title anymore but the point is that sometimes the things you fear most are the scariest things of all. That’s why Batman chose to be called Batman because he was scared of bats---at least according to that movie. I always felt a little like him actually, except of course for the whole billionaire thing. My comparison was more along the lines of two dark loners, looking for an outlet for our pain. Not that I was looking for an outlet, not anymore.
I looked around, realizing that Jessica was way ahead of me now.
I groaned and pushed my way into the tent. I groaned as soon as I got through the crowd, now realizing why the little girl thought I was a clown. I stopped dead in my tracks, there were clowns everywhere. A cold chill went over my body. I saw little Susie getting her face painted by a pink haired clown while another clown made balloon animals. I looked for Jessica and not to my surprise, some guy was chatting her up. I wanted to walk over but she caught eyes with me and shook her head. You have to be kidding me. I tried to motion her over to me with her eyes but she shook her head. I frowned and rolled my eyes.
Just like Jessica. I left her to it, decided to let Marcus reprimand her about it later. I scanned the tent but there weren’t many people here over the height of two feet, except maybe bored parents. So I turned and decided to search on my own. I left Jessica to do her thing---whatever that was. I wandered about the other pavilions, hoping maybe something would draw my attention. I’m not sure what I was looking for exactly. I didn’t know what people looked like after they emerged. My own Emergence I was unconscious for, I came to several days later in a bed. I wasn’t as shocked as most people I guess, I was always kinda girly to begin with. But I couldn’t imagine going from that pretty blonde girl, I saw in that picture into a hairy guy.
Something very similar happened to Marcus. He was once blonde and beautiful, a beauty pageant queen actually. When his parents saw their princess turned into a tall black boy, they freaked to say the least. It took him a long time and lots of therapy to get over it. So maybe that’s what I should be looking for, a freaked guy, possibly one in clothes that didn’t quite fit him. I guess that shouldn’t be too hard to find in a place like this.
I continued looking, wandering a lot longer than I should have been. I was getting a little annoyed. Then I heard some running and panting. I turned and saw a group of kids. I groaned, what was it now. I bent down so they were eye level. “What’s the matter?”
“Are you one of the clowns?”
I groaned. “Why not, sure.”
The little boy in the lead---there were four boys and a girl---nodded. “We saw a bunch of clowns take a guy.”
That piqued my interest. Clowns taking a guy huh? “Where did they take him?”
The little boy pointed toward the trailers. I smiled, patted him on the head and took off at a brisk walk. It was a little hard going, what with all the people. I pushed and shoved my way through, getting a lot of curses and grunts. I ignored them, finally coming to a spot where I could run. As soon as I was far enough, I tapped my throat mike.
“I think I’ve found him,” I said.
Marcus’s voice came in my ear: “Mel, do not engage, wait for back up.”
I shook my head. “They have him already. You guys will not get here in time.”
Marcus sighed. “Ok but let Jessica do all the work.”
I clicked off, not bothering to tell him that Jessie wasn’t with me.
I charged toward the trailers, weaving through the maze of them. I had a good idea where they might be going. It was kinda a pain moving in and around the damn things but when I finally got through them; I saw the group that the kid mentioned. They had a black SUV, parked by a little bush. There were at least six of them, all of them dressed as clowns. I stopped dead, my skin going cold. Why did it have to be clowns? I looked past them the two rough looking clowns, who looked like guards. One of the clowns got into the driver seat while the other three were trying to stuff a struggling boy in the back. I knew it had to be Marcia because he was in a crop top and skirt. If it wasn’t for the situation, I might even laugh.
He kicked and struggled, trying to break free. Why they didn’t sedate him was beyond me. Clearly, these guys were amateurs, which gave me a great idea. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, nothing had changed. At least nothing to me had changed. But to everyone else they’d see---well they’d see a little girl that looked a lot like Daisy. I plastered a big smile on my face and started humming as I skipped over.
The two thuggish looking clowns frowned at me. The two stuffing “Marcia” into the SUV stopped what they were doing, dropping him on the ground. He rubbed his wrists, looking confused. I could see he’d been crying.
“Why aren’t you guys with the other clowns back there?” I asked in a sweet innocent voice.
“Beat it kid,” grumbled one of the thug clowns.
I ignored him. “Did that boy do something bad, is that why you’re taking him?”
One of the clowns by the SUV stepped forward, looking annoyed. “How much did you see sweetie?”
I played innocent. “I saw the clowns and the elephants and the juggler and…”
The Thug Clown cut me off. “This is shit, just grab her.”
“Aww, you said a bad word.”
He groaned angrily and reached for me, grabbing my shoulder. The problem with my illusions is just that. Most of them are just make believe, like my child glamour. Others are a bit stronger---tangible even---like that Santa that I made, the one that Daisy was able to interact with. But when this guy grabbed my shoulder, touch usually broke the spell. You see they weren’t real at all, just in the mind. I was the only one who labeled myself an Illusionist; the Center categorized me as a Level Three Dominator.
“What the fuck?” said the guy, realizing that I wasn’t a little girl after all?
The Leader Clown spoke. “She’s one of those Center brats, put a bullet in her.”
“Yes, let’s shot the nasty Dominator” I said as men with guns appeared behind me, pointing them at the Clowns.
The Thug Clown took a step back, scared. “What the…”
“They’re not real,” said the Leader again. “It’s all in your head.”
The Thug didn’t look convinced. He shook his head, dropped his gun and ran. I smirked. The Leader didn’t look so amused. He picked up the gun and whipped it around, catching me off guard. It clipped me under the chin, sending me sprawling. I hit the pavement; my fake soldiers disappeared because I lost my hold on everyone’s minds. He stepped toward me, pointing the gun.
“You stupid little bitch, why couldn’t you have left well enough alone.”
I closed my eyes, waiting for him to shoot but he didn’t. Instead, he started laughing. I opened my eyes, he was laughing so hard that he dropped the gun in my lap. The other started laughing too, they were laughing so hard that they were doubling over in pain. I looked around, wondering who could be doing…then I looked at “Marcia”. She was glaring angrily at them, a look of murder in his eyes. This was it, this was his power. Somehow, he could make people laugh.
What was that old expression…oh yeah, “die laughing.”
The guys were now on the ground, laughing and rolling about. The Leader was whimpering, blood coming from his nose and mouth.
‘Make it stop, please make it stop”.
I looked past them at him. “Marcia, you have to stop or you’ll kill them.”
He shook his head. “They were going to take me; they were going to drag me off somewhere.”
I nodded. “But they’re not now. I’m here to help you but you’ve got to stop.”
I’m not sure why his power wasn’t working on me, maybe I was immune. It didn’t matter; if I didn’t get him to stop, he was going to kill them. And as much as I’d like to see that happen, the others might frown upon it a bit. So I took a cautious step toward, holding up my hands to show I wasn’t going to hurt him. He looked at me, crying.
“Stay back” he shouted “or I’ll…I’ll…”
“You saw what I did,” I asked, he nodded. “I’m just like you. I come from a place where there’s people just like you. We can help you but you’ve gotta stop.”
“Melanie” said Marcus’ voice in my ear. “We’re on the way.”
I pushed my throat mike. “No, stay there. Marcia can induce laughter; if you get too close you’ll get caught up in it too.”
“Laughter?’” came Frankie’s voice. “That’s so awesome; he’s going to be the life of the party.”
“Shut up you idiot.”
Marcus groaned. “Guys stay back. Melanie this is on you.”
I nodded and looked at “Marcia”; the clowns were still writhing in delightful pain on the ground. “Let them go and I promise I won’t hurt you.”
He shook his head. I closed my eyes and transformed back into the little girl. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mister. I’m only trying to help.”
That seemed to do it, for whatever it’s worth. I’m not sure what happened but one minute the guys were laughing and the next they weren’t. I smiled and walked over, taking his hand and helping him up. I transformed back into myself and he collapsed into my arms, crying. I held him, trying my best to comfort him. I looked at the thugs lying around me, none of them were moving but they were panting so at least they were alive. Not that it made much of a difference to me.
I tapped my mike. “I’ve handled the situation, everything’s in the clear.”
Marcus sighed. “So no more laughing?”
I laughed. “Only on the inside.”
A few minutes later, the others showed up, including Jessica. She looked around and mouthed “sorry”. I smiled and nodded. Thomas pulled the goons to their feet, securing each of their hands with plaster ties. Vicky took “Marcia” from me. Frankie tried to talk to him but Jessica elbowed him in the ribs. Marcus wandered over to me with a smile.
“What the hell took you guys so long?” I asked.
He smirked. “You know us, just clowning around.”
I smirked. “Not funny.”
He kissed me on the forehead. I rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes. He held me as he led me away. When I opened my eyes again, a clown tried to hand me a balloon. I gave him a dirty look and he ran off. Marcus laughed; I elbowed him in the ribs.
God I hate clowns.
Author's Note: Its holiday time again which means I had another inspiration to write more into Melanie Crane's interesting time. This time I spun an interesting Easter tale. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing. Happy Easter everyone and enjoy :)
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The braying of my hounds was the only thing I could hear. They had this distinctive bark, loud and particularly annoying. It drowned out most of the rest of the noise in the forest, including the comm. chatter. I suppose all I had to do was wave my hand and they’d disappear but I kinda needed them at the moment. For the first time, we were sent off alone. It kinda surprised me actually, what with Marcus’ thing about splitting us up into pairs. But unlike the previous missions of Delta Squad, this wasn’t a Pick Up. It was a Seek the Enemy and Bring Him Back Unharmed type of mission. Why Delta and not one of the other teams, like Alpha or even Beta. Well, it was all our fault. Ok, so not our fault per se. It was actually my fault.
A rustle in the nearby bushes snapped me from my thoughts. I turned in the general direction. I thought about bringing one of my hounds back but if it was anything too dangerous, I could always conjure up some protection. Besides, I had a gun. I put my hand on my side holster, slowly creeping toward the bush. My heart was pounding a mile a minute in my chest. Whatever was in there had to be something worth scaring me. I crept closer, wetting my lips. My palms got sweaty and I thought about conjuring a big ass bear just for safety. But I shook that thought away---too much overkill. I nudged the brush with my foot and got the biggest fright of my life. Something brown hopped out, practically landing on my sneaker. I would have screamed if I hadn’t seen it first: it was a bunny. It stared up at me for a second then darted back into the woods. I cracked a smile, it was kinda poetic actually.
A stupid rabbit was half of the reason we were in this mess.
We were about ten miles from Beta site, in the dense wilderness. It had been almost a month since our last mission---a successful pick up---but Kris felt we needed to learn to work as a team some more. So she sent us to Colorado to work on team building. It was Delta plus one---the plus one being Daisy. It hadn’t been our idea to bring the kid along but Vicky didn’t want to leave her, I couldn’t blame her really. So we managed to get permission to bring her along just as long as she stayed out of the way. She was pretty good about it, too. It helped that Mattie agreed to come along as a babysitter. So while the team was out practicing our team building skills, Mattie and Daisy were back at camp braiding each other’s hair---not that Mattie’s was long enough to do much with.
Things didn’t go bad until Daisy started to fidget. It turns out that Kris scheduled our exercise a bit too close to a certain holiday. I’m not one for holidays. I didn’t exactly celebrate them when I was with my father, what with being in a coma for a good portion of the time. Easter was a weird one though too because it never fell on the same day. I think we were all too caught up in other things to notice, but not Daisy. Daisy knew everything. When she found out that the Easter Bunny might not be able to find her out here in the woods she put up quite a little fit.
Marcus came up with a beneficial solution: we were going to have to give Daisy some semblance of Easter. We only had the one truck---a Humvee---but it was enough. We knew from the map that we were about a mile and half from the nearest road, another mile or two from the nearest town. So Marcus, Frankie and Mattie stayed back at camp with Daisy while Thompson took Vicky, Jessica and me into town. The plan was simple: find some candy, maybe some cheap plastic eggs and figure out a way to create a good time for Daisy. We left while Mattie kept the kid preoccupied---if she knew we were going somewhere she’d want to tag along so we snuck off. What is it they say about the best laid plans? Well suffice to say, from the moment we left camp, things didn’t go very well.
_____________________________________
“What’s wrong?” I asked from the back seat as Thompson cursed.
“There’s a roadblock I think,” said the Corporal, drumming his fingers on the stirring wheel.
I tried to look over the back of the seat to see what he meant. I couldn’t see much because of all the traffic but I could just make out the flashing lights of the police cruiser up ahead. I sighed and dropped back into my seat. This was supposed to be a quick drive into town, an hour or maybe two, tops. But with the roadblock up ahead things were going to be really difficult. I had half a mind to conjure up a solution but that would have only made people mad. I have excellent control now, better than even before. The incident at the Circus had really opened things up for me. In the last month, I’d been working with Marcus to help center my gift. Stella was able to talk Marnie into helping me, too. I never thought I’d be one of those yoga kind of girls but breathing exercises were really good for concentration.
Dr. Tipps and I talked about my abilities too. In the past, I’ve misused them more than once. So it was all about finding a need for the things I do. “Small things, Melanie” she told me time and time again. She liked to be present for my power training, just to make sure I wasn’t going overboard. She didn’t mind me turning myself into a little girl to play with Daisy---she was actually happy that I was trying to make the Center’s first child feel welcome---but it was other things that bothered her. Like last Thursday. There’s this guy---Brady---in my Trig class, he’s a real ass. I’m not sure what his thing is, maybe it’s super powered annoyance. Anyway, he was talking crap in the back of the room so I conjured up this really big spider. He totaled freaked out, he fell back in his chair, knocked over a shelf of books and wet himself.
The whole class burst into laughter. It felt great to knock the prick down a peg but of course, the teacher knew it was me. After all, I’m the only Dominator in the whole place. Not that I call myself that---I prefer Illusionist. Ms. Fine prefers “Grade A Nuisance”. Not that she ever called me that but it was the look she gave me when the teacher sent me to Kris’ office. I got a stern scolding from Ms. F and urinal duty from Kris---the boy’s bathroom, trust me it’s the worst punishment. Dr. T wasn’t too happy either. She went on and on about such progress and then disaster. She thought about scratching my name from the forest exercise but Kris made it mandatory.
We set out for Colorado two days later. We’d been in the forest for a couple of days before Daisy sprang Easter on us.
“Can we go around it?” asked Jessie from the passenger seat.
Thompson shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it. But don’t worry I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Worry, who was worrying? It took us a bit to get moving, traffic was slow and nearly bumper-to-bumper. It surprised me that there were this many cars on a mountain road like this one. When it was almost our turn, I got a look out the window at the cruiser. It was a big tan SUV painted to look like a local police car. I guess it made sense, considering the roads up here. A big vehicle like that was ideal for traipsing around up here. There were two officers, on either side of the vehicle in front of us. The one on the right was looking in the back window while the one on the left was talking to the driver. The conversation didn’t last long then it was our turn.
Thompson pulled up slowly and cut the engine. The officer that came to his window was tall, broad and had a thin mustache. He and his partner were dressed in tan and had wide brim hats. They looked more like Sheriff’s Deputies than police officers. Thompson rolled down the window, making sure he had his creds. I’m not sure which cover story he was about to pull but I was guessing it was a pretty good one.
“What seems to be the problem, officer?”
The guy looked at him for a second then at Jess. The other officer looked into the back seat at the two of us, Vicky smiled sweetly at him. I think her icy blue eyes gave him pause but they were nothing too out of the ordinary. It was a good thing that I remembered to bring a hoodie, having my green hair covered helped a lot. There was no way I was going to be mistaken for a clown ever again. I suppose I could have made these guys think it was any color I wanted but it was easier just to cover my head.
“Is it just the four of you?” asked the officer at the window.
Thompson shook his head. “My partner is back at camp with the rest of the kids. We’re a Christian Youth Group on a Retreat for the week. I have the paperwork if you want to see it.”
He reached over to the glove compartment but the officer shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”
Thompson smiled.”Suit yourself.”
I had to wonder if he really had paperwork in there. Knowing the Center, they were pretty thorough with their cover stories. When Becca and her team went to England, they went all out to make sure they were as authentic as possible. We were all briefed about the Cover before the exercise started. We even had t-shirts printed up just in case, not that any of us were wearing them. All of the girls in the group agreed last night that yellow was not our color; Jessie even went so far as to burn hers. Marcus wasn’t too happy about that but Frank helped. He burned his too. Marcus couldn’t argue about that, seeing as the two of them were getting along on something. I thought about letting her burn mine too, but I needed to stand by my man. He was the boss and what he said goes. If he wanted me to keep my ugly yellow shirt then I was more than happy too. There was just no way in hell that I was going to wear it.
Thompson did hand over his wallet though, showing the guy his fake ID. I’m not sure how good the cop was at detecting things like that but whoever did ours was a literal genius. Becca showed me her’s---the one she used in England---I even believed she was this other girl. When the officer looked at Thompson’s card, he stared a bit longer than I would have liked. I bit my lip, wishing that Marcus was here. I could read fear but that was all. It helped in my line of work, getting into people’s heads that way. I suppose I could do more too but I was afraid to dwell deeper. Marcus said the mind was a dangerous thing to go poking around in. An untrained person could get in serious trouble if they did it wrong. He offered to help me but I’m not ready for the hardcore stuff yet.
My Illusions were like mind control but it was mainly on the surface. I didn’t go any further than needed.
The officer handed back the card. He looked a little worried. “I think you should come into town for a day or two. We have a bit of a situation and it might be best if you and your group not be in the forest for the a few days.”
“Did something happen?”
The officer looked at his partner. The other man shrugged. The officer sighed. “We have reason to believe that a person of interest in a few bank robberies might be hiding out in the woods somewhere. Have you been watching the news?” Thompson shook his head.
“”Well the media is calling him the Easter Bunny Bandit. He holds the bank up wearing a bunny mask.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me. I guess it takes all kinds.
“Is he dangerous?”
The officer sighed. “He hasn’t hurt anyone yet but he is armed.”
“Are you evacuating other campers from the woods?”
“Not presently but…”
Thompson cut him off. “We’re far enough into it that I don’t think we’ll run into him. I have a radio and sat. phone. If we run into any problems, I can give you a call.”
The officer didn’t look too happy but he agreed. He gave Thompson a card. Then promised to come up and check on us as soon as he was done making the rounds down here. Thompson thanked him for allowing us to continue. Then the officer waved us on. I stared at him as we drove off, his face burned into my memory.
_______________________________________
The buzzing of a voice in my ear drew me back to the present.
“Mel, what’s your current position?”
It was Marcus, checking in. It’d been the third time in the last hour. I looked at the GPS indicator on my watch and gave him my coordinates.
“What’s up this time?”
Marcus sighed. “I found the truck.”
The truck in question was the one I saw at the roadblock yesterday. True to his word, after Deputy Meadows---thin mustache guy---made his patrol, he went into the woods to check on us. We knew didn’t know he was missing until Thompson picked it up on the police band. I guess that should have been our first indicator that something was wrong. But none of us were too worried about it back then. I guess we should have been because we might have been prepared.
I sighed. “Is there anyone in it?”
Marcus came back after a few seconds. I could hear him shuffling around. He sighed. “Its clean, his shotgun’s missing too.”
I cursed. It was one thing for the deputy to be missing but he’d been packing some firepower. That was going to complicate things a great deal. I thought about turning back. I looked up into the sky, night was starting to fall. I sighed heavily. If I turned back, now then it was pointless. I closed my eyes and envisioned the face of Meadows in my head. Like I said, it was burned into my memory. When I reopened my eyes I couldn’t help but see another face there too, one that was much closer to me than Deputy Meadows. I made my decision.
“I’m still going, there’s still some daylight left.”
“Me too” said Jessie.
Frank: “Ditto.”
Vicky: “Do you even need to ask?”
Marcus sighed. “Ok guys but the window is closing” There was a long pause. “I’m sorry Vick but you know the odds.”
Vicky said nothing. I wish he’d allowed me to go with her like I wanted. But Marcus insisted we’d cove more ground if we split up. I guess I couldn’t fault him for his logic but Vicky was a wreck right now. I so wanted to be there to comfort her, to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. Especially seeing how excited she was about all this yesterday. The whole thing had been her idea really. She wanted to make it special and she was damn sure to make it right.
__________________________________________
“Why do I have to be the Bunny, again?”
Vicky and Jess laughed. We were in this tiny little shop. It was one of many in town, situated along this quaint little street. After the roadblock and the traffic, it didn’t take us long to get into town. Thompson stayed in the truck while us three girls did some serious power shopping. First, we found this little Dollar Store that was selling a whole bunch of Easter crap half price. We loaded up our cart with candy and crap like that. Vicky made sure she found this cute little Easter basket and Jess found these plastic eggs. The two of them were kinda excited about it, swapping childhood Easter stories. I felt kinda left out but I busied myself by looking for some jellybeans. They were the only true thing I knew about Easter. I’m not sure why but I just knew kids were supposed to have jellybeans.
We spent an hour in the dollar store getting all the crap. I thought we were done but the girls had one more place they wanted to check out. On the way into town, we noticed a costume shop on the corner. It looked kinda out of place what with all the other stories being specific things. A novelty shop in this town seemed kinda odd, especially something that sold seasonal things. I could see it getting a lot of business around Halloween but the rest of the year business must have been really tight. When we went inside---the little bell above the door dinging---I think the guy behind the counter was happy to have customers. When he saw it was three hot teenage girls his face lit up.
That’s when we started browsing. I had no idea what we were looking for but apparently Vicky did. She pulled me right over to the bunny costumes. She found this sleek and sexy one piece suit, it was a like a giant rabbit skin that someone could step into. It was really freaky. The only thing that didn’t seem to make it more freaky was the cartoonish looking head. It was a Bunny caricature, a female one but still a caricature nonetheless.
That’s when they practically pushed me into the dressing room. Then they threw the costume at me. I tried to protest but as soon as I pulled back the curtain, they had a riot. They laughed at my expense. I didn’t even have the head on but I felt ridiculous.
I told them so, too.
“You look adorable,” said Vick with a laugh.
“Like a sexy Bugs” added Jess.
I frowned. “Why me again?”
Vick sighed. “Because you’re the only one who can fit in the suit. Besides, Daisy is going to freak when she sees you. You’re going to make her day.”
I sighed. That did it for me. Vicky knew I couldn’t resist making her little sis happy. So when I nodded and agreed, the two of them squealed, jumping up and down. Then they pushed me back into the dressing room. I took off the costume and the two of them paid for it. The guy at the counter frowned when he saw I wasn’t going to wear it out of the story. What a fricken perv. After that, we did some other shopping. We hit a little grocery store to buy some big people food---we were sick of the MRE’s that Thompson packed. In the end, we were in town for about two and half hours. On the way back to camp, the road was pretty much deserted. When we got to the spot where the roadblock was, there was nothing. So we were pretty confident they caught whoever it was they were looking for. It took us another hour and a half to get back to camp. Daisy was asleep by the time we got there which was a good thing. We roped the guys into helping us create Easter---Mattie jumped at the opportunity to help.
It took us nearly three hours to fill those stupid plastic eggs with candy and hide them. When we were done, all of us practically fell asleep right on the spot. When I finally crawled into my sleeping bag, I had a smile on my face, happy that I’d done something good.
________________________________________
The dogs stopped barking. I’m not sure if that was a good thing or not. I’d designed them specifically to pick up any signs of trouble. They were supposed to bark when they found something. I was so caught up in my own thoughts I didn’t even notice. Now the forest was deathly quiet, I couldn’t even hear the normal sounds. That sent a shiver up my spine. I closed my eyes and concentrated on them. There were three, created from my memories of dogs from the movies. All were bloodhounds but smarter than any real dogs. If they were not barking, it meant something was terribly wrong. I took a deep breath and reached out with my mind.
Though I wouldn’t let Marcus teach me any advanced telekinetic stuff, I did know some things. Of course, I didn’t do those things intentionally. When Becca and the original Delta team hit Section One, I’d been awake for a very short period of time. I was cold and alone and really scared. I had no idea what was going on or where I was. I’d been awake sporadically during my time there, mostly when I first got there. Every time I’d wakened in the past, my father was there waiting for me. When I woke up at that time, he was gone. I didn’t find out until much later that my father was dead, killed by Declan St. James. Whereas Becca had a grudge against that bastard Dekker, Declan was number one on my list. My father may have done something horrible things---putting me in a drug induced coma---but he was the only person who ever cared about me.
My earpiece buzzed to life again, Marcus checking in. “Mel, it’s too quiet.”
I sighed, touching my throat mike. “You noticed too.”
I made the dogs loud enough so even the others could hear them.
Frank piped in: “It was kinda peaceful, you know. I was getting used to the doggies.”
Jessie: “Speak for yourself, Match Head.”
Frank probably would have come back with something but Marcus cut him off. “Not now you two, concentrate.” There was a pair of sighs. Then he spoke to me. “I’m doubling back toward camp to rendezvous with Thompson, he and Mattie were able to get through to the Center finally.”
With all the dense foliage, communication was spotty at best. We knew that coming into this place, it was one of the reasons we chose this area. The earpieces and the throat mikes were low band, able to penetrate the trees because we had a nice transmitter. But to contact base we needed to use our antenna to relay with a satellite. With passing cloud cover and the trees, that wasn’t easy. We had initial contact with them yesterday, Thompson having apprised them of the situation about the bank robber. Luce said she had a team on standby in case things got out of hand. But that was hours ago and we haven’t been able to radio in since.
“Are they sending the team?”
Marcus sighed. “They’re coming but it might be a while. There’s a storm moving in---it’s supposed to be kinda bad. It might be a bit choppy to fly the helicopter so they’re going to have to come in on the ground.”
He didn’t need to finish that sentence. It took us hours to get to this spot on foot. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that we were on our own. But it was nice that they were on the way. The others chimed in on the situation, grumbling a bit. Vicky was really quiet but I knew she was still there because her GPS marker was active and moving. We all had markers, built into our watches. All of us, except Daisy. It was the newest thing that the Center was implementing. Once again, it was all thanks to Becca. After England when she was captured, The Colonel and Kris thought it might be a good idea to keep track of us when we were out in the field. The markers were a good idea. I just wish we’d thought of putting one on Daisy.
Marcus spoke again, switching to another channel. I heard him only in my left ear: “You ok?”
I knew why he was asking. There were only two reasons that the dogs would have stopped barking. The first being they were physically attacked. My dogs were only illusions after all, not tangible like the Santa Claus I created for Daisy. If someone were to say shoot them, they’d disappear quickly enough. The other reason was all on me. They would also disappear if I lost my hold on them.
I sighed. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t left her alone…”
Marcus cut me off. “No one’s blaming you Mel. She was sitting by that tree when you left. You were only gone for a few minutes; kids have a tendency to wander off.”
I sighed. Easy for him to say, he didn’t lose his best friend’s little sister.
__________________________________
“Sweetie, I’ll be right back,” I told Daisy, letting go of her hand. “You wait right here, I’m going to look for the Easter Bunny.”
Her face lit up. “Do you really think he’s here?”
I smiled. “It’s the forest, where else would a bunny be.”
She got really excited about that. It felt good to see such joy on her face. When she woke up this morning, I think they heard her squeal all the way back in the town. We put her little basket in the tent with her, filled with all the chocolates and candies we bought yesterday. Her joyful squeal woke us all up. Thompson actually came running in his boxers, holding a Glock. It kinda scared all of us. I wasn’t the first one to the tent, that was Vicky. When I got there though Daisy was jumping up and down, happy that the Easter Bunny hadn’t forgotten her after all. It leaves a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach knowing that you’d done something good for a child. Seeing her so happy made me happy.
After Vicky and I got her to calm down, we got her dressed. Vicky bought her a pretty pink Easter dress when we were out yesterday. Daisy was so excited---bouncing up and down---it took the two of us to put her in it. After that, we took her by the hands and led her out of the tent. That’s when we told her what we “saw”. We filled all the plastic eggs with jellybeans and hid them throughout the surrounding area. We made sure not to put them too far from camp so she didn’t wander all over the place. The plan was that no matter where she was, one of us would either be with her or be able to see her.
I went with her on the hunt. There were twenty-four eggs scattered about. Over the course of an hour, we’d found all of them. Which was my cue to slip off and “look” for the Easter Bunny. I left her sitting by a tree, making her promise not to go anywhere while I slipped away. I doubled back toward camp, heading straight toward my tent. When I walked inside, I saw that someone had the costume already laid out for me. I frowned. It was probably Jess; she was having fun on my behalf. I made a mental note to do something awful to her in return. It didn’t take me long to get on though I was a little reluctant to put on that giant cartoonish head.
“Wow, looking real sexy” said Marcus as he stepped inside the tent.
I turned around---glad the tents were tall enough to stand in---and struck the sexiest pose I could think of. Ok, there was one advantage of dressing like this; it made my boyfriend’s pulse race. So that’s an added plus. “Tell me you’re not one of those creepy guys who have bunny girl fetishes?”
He smiled. “No but seeing you like that I think I might be a convert.”
I leaned forward and playfully punched him before we shared a kiss. We were officially one of the stranger couples at the Center. What with him being tall dark and handsome and me being the short, green haired girl who liked to make pretty pictures. At least that’s how I saw things. Our kiss turned a little something more. Before I knew the two of us were on the ground, he was fumbling around behind me trying to find the damn zipper. We hadn’t gone very far in our relationship, only kissing. Everyone knew we were a couple but that’s all they knew. We kept our relationship on the down low because we weren’t ready for anything too serious. There’s a lot of baggage dating me---the Dominator---and he was still getting over his first boyfriend, the one he had back when he was wearing the skirts.
I finally pushed him up, laughing. “I can’t do this now; I’m supposed to be out there with Daisy.”
He frowned. “Ok but when you’re done you’re wearing that costume tonight and sneaking into my tent?”
I smiled. “Is that an order, sir?”
He laughed then got to his feet, pulling down his shirt. Yeah, I can try to take off his clothes too. Then he reached out and pulled me to my feet. We kissed again then I slipped by him. He smacked my butt as I was leaving. I pulled the big head over my own and wandered through the camp. Vicky whistled, I struck another sexy pose then disappeared into the woods. I retraced my steps back to where I’d left Daisy. I couldn’t wait to see her face when I came walking up like this. I was so excited that I thought I went to the wrong spot. I looked around but Daisy wasn’t sitting where I left her. So I looked behind the tree then starting looking in the bushes. I knew it was this spot because I could see a few jellybeans in the grass.
I pulled off my head, tossing it aside. I took a deep breath. Don’t panic Mel. I pulled off the clothes too and rushed about, looking all over the surrounding area. But it was no use. Wherever Daisy was it was far enough away that I couldn’t find her. I bit my lip and panicked then.
I’d just lost my best friend’s sister.
_____________________________________
We’d been searching for her the last four hours.
After I discovered she’d been missing I rushed back to the camp and told the others. It didn’t take us long to scramble a search party. Things were made worse by the fact that Deputy Meadows was missing. That seemed to push us all into rapid motion. I tried to apologize again and again to Vicky but she knew it wasn’t my fault. In fact, Daisy had a tendency to do this. Apparently, she was always wandering off. She used to do it to their parents all the time. Now that I think about it, when Daisy wasn’t in their room, she was always wandering the halls of the Center. It was usually I or one of the other girls who brought her back. But this time was different. We weren’t in a safe place and there wasn’t some nut wandering around out there with a gun.
That’s when I conjured the hounds too, making sure I cued them in with Daisy. She was enough away that neither Marcus nor I could find her telepathically. But I was able to fuse what I remembered of her mind into the hounds, making them able to track her and only her. Then I sent them out, hoping against hope that they’d find her. Now they too had failed. This whole situation sucked. The only thing that would have made it worse is if I’d actually worn the costume to go looking for her. But that was the first thing I stripped out of. I don’t think a bright white suit was the proper thing to be stealthy in. Why stealthy because there’s a guy out there with a gun. Not that I didn’t have one too but I wanted to keep the casualties down to a minimum. Besides I’d never shot anyone before. I’d shot a lot of paper targets and dummies but never a real person. I wasn’t too bad at it now, getting better according to Becca. But I still had a long way to go before actually drawing my gun on anyone.
I closed my eyes. My last conversation with Marcus was about twenty minutes ago. I thought about reconjuring the hounds but he was right: I couldn’t concentrate. I knew this was all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten so carried away with being sexy for him I would have been back there to stop her from wandering. Both Marcus and Vicky said it wasn’t my fault but both of them knew it was. It kinda pissed me off that I could be so fricken stupid. I made a promise to myself when I was redressing that I was never going to allow my personal life get in the way of what was important. So when I was on a mission it was going to be all business and nothing else. Marcus and I could fool around in our rooms but nowhere else.
I pushed on. I was trying to utilize some of the tracking skills that Lara was teaching me and some of the other girls. Kris thought it a good idea that some of us had a wide range of abilities. I was chosen because of my lack of combat skills. Mattie, Clara and several others were in that group too. I was using some of my newfound skills now, keeping low to the ground, trying to think like Daisy. I thought about turning myself into a child but that only worked if there were others around me. Besides, it would have been another distraction. So instead I kept as low to the ground as possible, looking for any signs that someone might have gone this way.
It was pretty pointless because so far I’d found nothing. Three hours of trudging through the forest and I was about to give up too. I almost did when I spotted it. It was one of those things that you don’t normally find in a forest---unless of course it’s Easter. I smiled as I reached into the grass and picked up the yellow jellybean. A few feet away I found another one then another. I smiled. I’m not sure how or why but Daisy was dropping jellybeans. I tried to think if I’d seen anymore but I couldn’t remember. I was so guilt ridden I hadn’t bothered to look.
I tapped my throat. “I have a trail.”
There was a collective sigh of responses.
Marcus was the first to speak. “Did you find her?”
“No but I’ve got a trail of jellybeans.”
“Jellybeans?”
Vicky came on. “Bread crumbs. I’ve been reading her Grimm’s fairy tales at night. Hansel and Gretel left a trail of bread crumbs when they got lost, remember?”
I shook my head. I vaguely remembered the story. But I smiled nonetheless. Daisy was by far one of the smartest children I knew.
So I followed her trail of “breadcrumbs”. I just hoped she wouldn’t run out. But considering how many of those damn things we bought her it was safe to say that her trail would go on for a while. I kept close to the ground as I moved, picking up each one as I went. There was no way I was going to give them back---they were on the ground---but I made a promise to myself to buy her as many jellybeans as she wanted for as long as she lived. I tried to think of how many other kids would have been smart enough to leave something like this behind. I couldn’t think of any. Not that I knew any more kids but it was the thought that counted. But it was the fact that Daisy was clever enough at her age to come up with a way to keep her from getting lost.
I followed the trail to a clearing. At first I was about to run in, half expecting to see her sitting there. I wasn’t too far off because I heard a giggle. When I heard that I wanted to cry. I was definitely about to charge in then. But the giggle was followed by a laugh. It was a deep one, a laugh of a man. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart hammering in my chest. Please God let it be Deputy Meadows. I crept slowing to the clearing, putting a large tree between myself and it. I peered slowly around the tree and saw the familiar of a tan uniform. I sighed with relief, it was a deputy. I took a deep breath and stepped into the clearing.
“Thank you so much for finding…”
My words caught in my mouth. Deputy Meadows was there all right but he wasn’t the one that laughed. In fact was laying against one of the other trees, the front of his uniform red with blood. Daisy was sitting a few feet away, not seeming to notice. Sitting across from her was a large man in a bunny mask. Daisy was giggling with him, eating jellybeans from her basket. For a second the man and I locked eyes. He and I both looked at the shotgun. It was too far away for each of us to reach but there was a knife in his waistband.
Daisy turned and saw me. Her face lit up. “Mel, look I found the Easter Bunny.”
I smiled and nodded, reaching up to brush my neck gently, turning the mike on. “That’s really good sweetie. Now why don’t you step away from the nice man in the bunny mask and come over here.”
Daisy frowned. “I don’t want too. We’re having fun.”
I frowned. Leave it to her to not want to leave. I smiled bigger. “But everyone is worried about you. You shouldn’t wander away from camp like that.”
I looked at the man in the mask. I could only see his eyes. They were dark and piercing. It was clear that like me, he was trying to figure out what to do. He had two options. I could see those options as well as I could. I just hoped he’d choose the latter and take off. Hell, I’d even give him a head start. Neither of us said a thing for a while. Then I nodded my head toward Meadows.
I cleared my throat. “I won’t tell anyone about that if you just give me the girl now and take off.”
Daisy put a finger to her mouth. “Shhh, the police man is sleeping.”
I smiled and nodded. “Then why don’t you come over to me and we’ll leave him to sleep here with the nice Easter Bunny.”
Daisy looked like he was thinking about it. She made her decision quickly enough. She started to get up and that’s when he made his move. He didn’t choose the latter. He lashed out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into his chest. He didn’t need to use his knife with her. She was small enough that all he had to do was put his hand on her throat and start to squeeze. It wouldn’t take him long to snuff out her life. Daisy dropped her basket and started crying. Me, I was frozen in fear. He could see my gun; he could see there was no way I was going to let him walk out of her alive. He had the option of running but now that option was off the table.
“Throw the gun away, now,” he said angrily, his gun muffled by the mask.
I nodded and tossed the pistol. “Let her go.”
“You think I’m stupid,” he laughed, taking a step back. “This little lady is my ticket out of here.”
I shook my head. “I’m not the only one here you know. We’re all armed and the others…well, trust me when I saw this, you do not want them after you.”
He laughed again. “I’ve been watching you. Besides the big Army like guy, you’re a bunch of kids. What the hell are you going to do to me, nag me with your annoying teen drama?”
I smirked. Clearly, he hadn’t been watching us long enough.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, reaching into his mind. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for. I smirked when I saw it. Some people had some really elaborate fears while others were simple things. I liked the simple things so much better, they were much easier to manifest. When I opened my eyes again, I looked up to the tree behind him. At first there was nothing then slowly the biggest snake I’d ever seen started to slither its way down the tree trunk. I didn’t go overboard with it but it was pretty huge.
“Tell me, Mr. Bunny Bandit, what terrifies you more than anything else in the world?”
He looked at me like I was nuts, taking a step away. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I smiled. “What scares you?”
He stuttered. “Going to prison I guess.”
I smirked. “Really, well then I guess that giant snake behind you won’t be a problem.”
I saw the color drain from his face. At that particular moment, my snake chose to wind its way around his ankles. He let go of Daisy in a panic and looked down. As soon as he did, he let out a bloodcurdling scream. I guess I couldn’t really blame him; it was a big snake after all. He kicked and turned, trying to get it off of him. But the snake slowly started to wind its way up his body. I saw the look of sheer terror in his eyes. But I ignored him as he fell to the ground. Instead, I held out my arms as Daisy came running into my outstretched arms. She cried into my chest as I turned away from him. He was screaming and kicking.
I carried her away. Five minutes later---the guy still screaming---I ran into Marcus and Vicky. Both of them were running in a panic, huffing and out of breath. When Vicky saw Daisy in my arms, she broke down. I set Vicky on the ground and she ran to her sister, crying. I gave them their moment and turned to Marcus, pointing over my shoulder.
“He’s back there.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “What did you do to make him scream like that?”
I shook my head. “No one messes with my girl.”
He smiled and walked off in the direction of the clearing.
I walked over to where Vicky and Daisy were hugging each other. Daisy was sniffling but she looked better. “That was a bad Easter Bunny.”
Vicky kissed her on the head. “Its ok, he’s not going to hurt you anymore.”
Vicky and I shared a look. It was clear that when she was done he wasn’t going to hurt anyone ever again. I’m sure the world wouldn’t mind one less scumbag. I reached out and took Daisy from her arms. Vicky nodded, her icy blue eyes flashed as she too walked off toward the clearing.
I hefted Daisy, getting her as far away as possible. I’m not sure how far we got before I heard what sounded like a scream abruptly caught off in mid-holler. I pulled her close to my chest, burying her face in it. I wanted to make sure that she didn’t hear what I heard. WE got about halfway to camp when Jessie and Frank showed up. They both looked relieved to see Daisy in my arms. I pointed behind me and they ran off in that direction. I closed my eyes and set Daisy down. There was one thing I still wanted to do for her, one thing I’d failed to do earlier.
When I reopened my eyes, the largest rabbit I’d ever seen was standing before us. I crouched down and let it go off. She was still sniffling. “I’m sorry about before, Daisy; I should have never left you alone.”
She wiped her tears. ‘Its ok, Mel. I thought I could find the Easter Bunny and bring him to meet you.”
I smiled. “I think he’s found you.”
She turned her head and when she saw the big white bunny---complete with yellow bow tie---her eyes bugged out. I let her go and she slowly walked over, patting him on the head. I smiled and stood up. Happy Easter, Daisy.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Steven and Stephanie Martelli were twins but couldn't be more opposite. When they discover they are different from other teens their age, the two of them have to put aside their differences and figure out what's going on. To complicate matters, someone is chasing them and no matter what, they can't be stopped.
Becca has been having nightmares, all of them involving a certain Mr. Green and how he ruined her life. Now Green's whereabouts might be known and Becca will do whatever it takes to make sure that he doesn't get away from her this time, no matter what the cost.
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Three by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Chapter 3. I don't have much to say about it actually. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing. My question to you the reader is this: Is there anyone out there that's still interested in the Center universe. I am finding that the interest in the Center stories is dwindling as of late.
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Chapter Three:
When I got to the Infirmary, there was a guard posted at the door. He was dressed in military green but wasn’t armed. I looked at his belt, noticing the stun gun and nothing else. If need be, I could take this guy. Not that I thought I was going to have a problem getting in there. After all, I did out rank the grunt. He looked at me when he saw me approach, his face a mask of no emotion. They were trained like that, I think. I wonder if he was trained to use that thing on his belt if things got out of hand. He surely looked like a guy who could handle himself in a fight, he was big and burly, his hair shaved almost down to the scalp. What did they call Marines, oh yeah, Jar Heads. This guy was a definite Jar Head.
He saluted when I finally got to him. Apparently, he thought I was someone important.
I looked at his uniform, reading his name and rank. “You don't need to salute me, Private Wilson.”
I didn’t salute back. That stuff annoyed me. He lowered his hand, giving me the once over. I probably looked quite the sight, in my drab gray clothes, tiny skirt and high heels included. I was still trying to convince Mrs. Fine and Kris to let me wear my boots. So far, no such luck, but I think I was wearing them down. They did let me wear my shades though, not that they had much of a choice in the matter. The light still hurt my eyes; the Second Skin didn’t cover my face. I wore a gray hoodie to do that, the hood bigger than most to obscure my face in shadow. Today was no different. Even as Wilson looked at me, he still couldn’t see my face.
“You know why I’m here?” I asked.
He nodded. “Mrs. Fine radioed ahead. She said you might be coming.”
I nodded. “Good, now step aside.”
He hesitated for a second until I glared at him. He didn’t hesitate after that and did as he was told. I smiled, pulled open the door and went inside. The antechamber of the Infirmary was a sad sight. It was all gray and boring, nothing like the waiting rooms of any doctor’s office I’d ever been in there. The chairs even had gray upholstery. The only color in the room came from the yellow curtains hanging over the windows. Whoever thought putting yellow and gray together ought to be shot. Drab and cheerful did not mix.
I walked through the little room right to the door leading to the exam rooms. The woman behind the counter didn’t even try to stop me. I had a reputation already at the Infirmary. It all stemmed from an incident a couple of weeks ago, right before I shipped out to pick up Donovan Talbot and the Ford Twins. It was after one of my sparring sessions with Kris’ boyfriend, Ray. He’s got this cool mimic ability so it makes him a super fighter. He challenged me to a little sparring match, trying to see what he could learn about me. He told me to not hold back so I didn’t. I came at him with everything I had. I’m trained in Krav Maga and Wushu. I’m a pretty competent fighter but apparently, Ray is on a whole different level. Because of my enhanced senses, I can usually hear the punch or kick before it gets to me but Ray is fast, real fast.
He caught me off guard. I didn’t even know he did anything until afterwards. But it turns out he actually broke a couple of my fingers in one of his throwing moves. When he flipped me over his shoulder and I landed on the mat, I didn’t feel a thing. I have this no pain thing, in case you’re late to the game. When I hit the mat, I jumped back up and went right at him. It was Mr. Lions who noticed something was wrong. He was standing nearby, working with some new recruits. He saw my hand and noticed how swollen and bruised a couple of my fingers looked. He stopped our match and forced me to go to the Infirmary. I tried to argue with him but in the end he actually had a couple guys physically drag me there.
In the Infirmary, they had to strap me down to look at my hand. Like I said, I didn’t feel anything. I could have been a little aggressive with Dr. L and his staff. I might have punched one of the nurses; I’m not sure because there was a lot of stuff going on. Basically, I don’t like doctors. Trish was my doctor and she was good to me, the only doc that had ever been good to me. At the Syndicate, there were two doctors, Trish and Dr. O. He was a fat bastard and let’s just say that he liked the ladies. So you can see where I’m kind of apprehensive about the whole doctor thing. One of the nurses actually had to sedate me to get me to calm down. In the end they taped my fingers together and put these little splint thingies on them. When I got the call from Donovan the next day, I tore it off. I needed all my fingers out in the field.
Dr. L was still kind of pissed about it. I didn’t get very far down the little hall that the exam rooms were on. Out of one of the rooms came a burly nurse. I remember him well and his face remembered me, the shiner I gave him was just starting to fade. He stopped in front of me, crossing his arms across his chest. He was big and tall, built like a linebacker. He glared at me when he saw me.
“You’re not to go one step further,” he said in a cold, emotionless voice.
“Orders from Mrs. Fine?” I asked, knowing they weren’t.
“From Dr. Lynchburg actually” he said, sounding smug. “He doesn’t want you anywhere near his patient until they’re done giving her a thorough examination.”
I groaned. “That could take hours.”
“Sorry ma’am, doctor’s orders. No one is allowed past me and especially you.”
I could pull rank but it was no use. The Infirmary was Dr. L’s domain and rank disappeared as soon as you walked through the front door. In the Infirmary, everyone was equal and Lynchburg was C.O. Those were his rules and everyone was supposed to follow them. They were kind of stupid, a power trip on his part but I had to respect that. Unfortunately, today I wasn’t really in the mood for respecting anyone. I needed to get to Dr. V; she had vital information as far as I was concerned.
I groaned. “How long will it take?”
He shrugged. “An hour, maybe two.”
“He’s lying,” said a familiar voice from behind me.
I groaned because I knew who it was without even turning around. I did though and saw Lola walking down the hall, a big smile on her face. She looked too happy to be in an Infirmary. She had a bounce in her step that was kind of annoying too somehow, the drab gray uniform on her looked a lot better than it did on anyone else, save maybe Stella. But who could compare with her.
“What are you doing here?”
She ignored the question and looked at the nurse. She smiled evilly at him. “I was asked to come here by Mrs. Fine,” she said, finally answering me. “She told me to go right in. This guy only stopped you because he’s still holding a grudge for when you kicked his ass.”
The nurse looked flustered. “She’s a girl.”
Lola smiled. “And you’re in love with her.”
The nurse turned crimson. I raised an eyebrow. The guy was in his twenties and I was sixteen, talk about serious felony. He looked from me to her and back to me again. Then he flushed even redder and stepped out of the way, letting the two of us pass. I made an effort to slam into his shoulder when I walked by him. Lola patted him on the cheek as she passed, moving quickly to catch up with me.
“This doesn’t change a thing; I still think you’re a pest.”
She shrugged. “Fair enough.”
We passed a couple of empty exam rooms before we got to the one that we wanted. There was another guard at the door, this time he was armed. He nodded at the two of us and opened the door as we approached. The room was small, barely big enough for the bed. Dr. V was lying on it, handcuffed to the side, hooked up to machines by tubes. She looked like hell. Her black and white hair was disheveled; her face was gaunt and pale. She had a bandage on her neck, probably where the sheet chafed it. There was also a bandage on her face which was because of me. I looked at her hands; there was a cast on her left wrist too. That one also because of me. I broke the bitch’s wrist while escaping from the Syndicate but that was almost two months ago. I was surprised it was still in a cast. I looked around the rest of the room, the only other person there besides Dr. V, was Dr. L. He was standing near her bed, scribbling things down on a clipboard. Neither one noticed us until we stepped fully into the room. Dr. V got one look at me and her eyes widened in fear.
“Get her out of here” she gasped, her voice a raspy whisper.
Dr. L turned to me and frowned. “Sergeant Howe, this isn’t a very good time.”
“Make it a good time.”
Dr. L sighed. “The patient isn’t ready to be questioned yet. She’s just woken up from a coma and she’s still suffering from a great deal of trauma, some of which that you inflicted upon her. Maybe if you come back in a day or two, we can arrange something then when she’s more comfortable.”
I didn’t have time for that. “Like I give a shit if she’s comfortable or not.”
Dr. L looked like I’d poisoned his lemonade. His eyes narrowed in anger at me and he whipped out his iPhone, dialing quickly. I knew who he was calling and frankly I didn’t give a damn. I ignored him as he started to complain to Mrs. Fine. Instead, I looked at Dr. V, my eyes narrowing as well. She tried to look away but she knew that I wasn’t going to give up. I think she knew what I was looking for; I could see it in her eyes.
I turned to Lola. “Make yourself useful and tell me when this bitch is lying.”
Lola nodded. “That’s why Mrs. Fine asked me to come.”
Dr. L sighed in the background. “This is highly irregular, ma’am.”
I heard Mrs. Fine’s response to that: “She might have answers we need. We can’t risk her trying to end her life again. Sergeant Howe and Miss Marston are there on my authority, so make it happen, doctor.”
I smiled and turned my attention back to Dr. V. I tried a different tack. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything; fluff your pillows, maybe?”
She hissed then rasped: “I’m not telling you a thing.”
I smiled. Ok, nice wasn’t working; hey I had to try. “Just save yourself a lot of the run around and tell me where Green is?”
She looked confused for a second. When she answered, the confusion was in her voice: “Dekker? This is about Dekker, why would you want him?”
I sighed. Apparently, the Syndicate didn’t pass notes in class. “He killed Trish.”
The look on her face said it all. Here I thought she knew what I wanted. But apparently, she was thinking I wanted something else. Go figure.
“This is about her?” I nodded, she hissed again. “The traitor deserved what she got.”
My anger flared and I went for her. Lola grabbed my shoulder, trying her hardest to hold me back. But she was a frail weakling. I shoved her off and got right into Dr. V’s face. Dr. L gasped and made a step for me. I snapped around, gave him a glare and he backed off. I snapped back to V, my face inches from her own.
“Dekker” I said, holding back the flood of emotions I was feeling. “Where the hell is he?”
“I don’t know” she stuttered.
I turned to Lola. “She’s telling the truth.”
I decided to change tactics again. “Ok, then what was he doing at Section One?”
Dr. V’s eyes seemed to pop open at that one. She looked past me at Lola and seemed to quiver a bit. When she answered, her voice was shaking. “I don’t know” she stuttered.
“She’s lying.”
I smiled and pointed at Lola. “Lola is a human lie detector. You can’t lie in front of her. So would you like to try that again?”
Dr. V. gulped. “I don’t know all the details but I know some” she cleared her throat. “He was there meeting with Dr. Philips, the two of them were discussing Project Hercules.”
There is was again. That big oaf, Bart, mentioned it as well. “What the hell is that?”
She looked at Lola and sighed. “I don’t know much about it. I know it has something to do with an offshore research facility called Facility X. After you and your friends took out the mainland facilities, One through Four, Carson moved everything to Facility X.”
“Where is it?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t have enough clearance to know. But Dekker, he’d know. Carson put him in charge of it.”
She shuddered and started to cry. Dr. L finally grew a backbone because he stepped over to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I turned to him but there was no glare now. I’d gotten what I wanted which was nothing. I sighed. She didn’t know where Dekker was. I grumbled as I pulled my shoulder out from underneath Dr. L’s touch. Lola tried to say something to me, I think it was “sorry” but I pushed her aside as I stomped out the door.
What a fucking waste of my time.
Lola ran to catch up with me; I heard her footfall behind me. “Becca?”
I turned toward, tears welling in my eyes. Damn it. “You will address me as Sergeant Howe.”
She nodded. “Look I’m sorry she didn’t have what you were looking for. But she gave us some good information, don’t you think.”
I scoffed. “I knew all that before.”
It was a lie and she knew that but she nodded anyway. “You can’t do this to yourself.”
“What the fuck would you know about it?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I just turned and stormed down the hall.
___________________________________
I should be in lunch right about now but I just can’t bring myself to sit in there with all those people. All the laughing and chatting, it was too much. Besides, I could also hear what else they were saying, the whispers and the gossip. I hate having super hearing; it really puts a cramp on your social life. I knew I had friends and they would never openly say bad stuff to me but I can even hear their whispers sometimes. Most of them are concerned for me but there’s other things too. They’re getting sick of my attitude, eg., Stella. She’d never admit it of course but even she’s been a bit standoffish lately. Things like this aren’t supposed to affect me, of course, but I’m not pain proof, contrary to what I let people believe.
It hurt; it hurt a lot.
So here, I was now, in the only place I knew people wouldn’t dare to look for me. Ok, so maybe storming up to the roof and sitting on the edge of the building wasn’t the brightest idea but I’m not full of a lot of those lately. First, I busted a teacher’s balls in class, and then I slapped my boyfriend for trying to help. I even blew off Mattie and I treated Lola like shit. Ok so maybe she deserved it a little, no one likes a tattletale. But I hate it, I hate this way I’m feeling. It’s like the whole world is piling on my shoulders and all I can do is continue to hold it up.
The worst part, all I’m doing is throwing hate at it. Hate and loathing, those were my only two weapons lately. It all started with Green, too. He was everywhere. I saw him when I slept, I saw him when I closed my eyes. I even saw him in other people’s faces. This morning I swore I saw him when I saw running to the Infirmary. He was standing at the end of the hall, smirking at me. When I ran after him, he dissolved and there was a tall kid standing there, looking really scared. I brushed past him and ran the rest of the way. It’s scaring the hell out of me and the only thing anyone wants to do is send me to the shrink. Go to Dr. Tipps, she’ll make you feel better. It was a load of shit. I didn’t need a shrink to make me feel better; I needed justice.
If I could just find the son of a bitch and put a bullet in his head, then everything would be right. I would feel better; the school would feel better. I’d be back to myself again and everything would go back to normal.
“You’re not going to jump, are you?”
I snapped around, surprised that someone else was up here. He was standing only a few feet away in all his shining glory. Ok, he wasn’t shining but it was close enough. The sun caught his blonde hair and it seemed to dance around his body, making him glow like an angel. My heart skipped a beat, my chest all a flutter. I bit my lip, cursing myself. I can’t like him; I’m in love with Barry. I put on a stoic face, turning my head so he couldn’t see the tears streaming down my face.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as he came walking over, leaning on the wall. “Did Fine send you?”
He shook his head. “Nope” He put his hands on the wall and jumped up to sit next to me, taking a look down and grimacing. “Mind if I sit?”
I shrugged. “It’s a free country, Brad, you can sit wherever you like."
He smiled. Damn it, why did he have to smile. Bradley Ford was like an Adonis. When I brought him and his sister into the school two weeks ago, I heard a lot of hearts beating faster. I got a lot of nasty glares too. A lot of the girls were really jealous that a guy like that would be anywhere near me. The freak, that’s what they call me behind my back when they don’t think I can’t hear them. Brad was cool though, he didn’t say a thing about me. Even better, he liked to sit with us in lunch, which only made the other girls more jealous. He and Emma adjusted rather quickly to Center life, which didn’t surprise me one bit. Everyone called them the “Golden Twins” on the count that both of them were beautiful with their alabaster skin, sparkling blue eyes and lustrous blonde locks.
He looked down again. “Nice spot you picked out here” he said, sweeping some hair from his eyes. “The perfect place for a jump. If you time it just right, you might even land on that statue down there.”
I smirked. He can make me laugh too. That’s all I need to complicate things. “Is there a purpose for your visit?”
Ok it’s bitch time for me. But he smiled; boy did he have a great smile.
“If you must know, you sent Lola back to the cafeteria in tears. The only thing we were able to get out of her was your name. The others were drawing straws to see who got the honor of coming to see if you were all right.”
I huffed. “And you lost?”
He smiled. “I volunteered.”
Damn it. I flushed a little red, turning away so he didn’t see. “So are you going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me back into the cafeteria?”
He laughed. “Nope. I think I’m going to stay here and enjoy the view.”
I nodded. “I’ve kind of made a mess of things.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
I smacked him in the arm. “You’re not supposed to agree with me.”
He shrugged. “I thought that’s what you wanted.” I sighed. He took a deep breath. “Look, I know all about temper tantrums and difficult girls. Hell, my best friend was Gretchen.”
Emma talked about her a lot. The two of them used to date back when she was Stephen. Apparently, Gretchen was a grade A bitch, though it did take Stephen a long time to see that. I think Emma was still a little stuck on her though. Or maybe she was only pretending to mask her feelings for a certain tall and handsome Corporal I know.
“You’re comparing me to her?”
“No, I’m just saying that girls have moods, trust me I know.”
I laughed. “This isn’t a mood.”
He sighed. “You want to kill this guy?”
I went quiet for a second. Everyone knew about my obsession with Dekker. We were a close-knit community, there was little that any of us here could keep from one another. My obsession wasn’t the biggest bit of gossip but it was certainly one of the more juicer bits. I was the subject of a lot of whispered conversations. “Hey there goes Becca; she’s obsessed with killing this guy.” Like I gave a fuck what they thought.
I finally answered him. “He killed the most important person in the world to me.”
He nodded. “That must suck.”
“I’m going to make him pay for what he did.”
Brad didn’t say anything to that. But after a few moments, he leaned over and wrapped me in a hug. My heart was a flutter and I was a bit shocked. Macho guys like him don’t hug. Then I remembered that only a few short weeks ago, he was a bubbling teenage girl. It was nice to be hugged by him, even if he was being a little girly at the moment. It felt kind of right, being in his strong, comforting arms. I bit my lip. You’re with Barry; Barry is your boyfriend.
When he pulled away, there was a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“For what?”
“For you.”
I was stunned. It was as if he socked me in the gut. I was speechless for a few seconds and then my anger swelled. How dare he. I opened my mouth to really let him have it but I couldn’t. Instead, I broke down. I burst into tears again. He wrapped me in his big strong arms and I cried on his shoulder. Damn it, why did I have to be such a girl.
He let me cry on his shoulder for the longest time. He held me for the longest time and it felt pretty good. Then I kind of let my emotions get the better of me. I don’t think I was thinking straight. Everything was all screwed up so when I pulled away and pulled his lips into mine, it was the spur of the moment and all fucked up. The only thing, he didn’t pull away, repulsed by it. Instead, he wrapped his hands around the back of my head and leaned into the kiss, returning my vigor. The two of us went at it, hot and heavy. It was different than kissing Barry. With Barry, it was lust and nothing else. But with Brad, it was passion. I felt something with him, something that definitely lacking with Barry.
God, what the hell am I doing?
A buzzing vibration saved me. I pulled away, stunned for a second. The vibration continued until I realized what it was. It was my phone. I sighed and reached into the front pocket of my hoodie, pulling out the iPhone. There was a text scrolled across the screen: COME TO COMP ROOM, KIND OF IMPORTANT, THINK I MIGHT HAVE FOUND SOMETHING, BARRY. I sighed; it was a sign. I pushed Brad away a little bit, licking my lips.
“What’s the matter?’ he asked, breathless.
“It’s Barry.”
“What?” he snapped his head around, looking like a deer caught in headlights?
I laughed. “Not here you idiot” I waved the phone in front of his face. “He just texted me. He wants me to meet him in the Computer room; he’s got something important to show me.”
Brad sighed, straightening his tie. “Can we continue this later?”
I bit my lip. Damn why did he have to be so nice, understanding and good looking. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
His head dropped and he nodded. “I understand.”
He looked so hurt, like a wounded puppy. God, I so wanted to kiss him again. I bit my lip. You’re with Barry and you’re damaged goods right now. I wanted to jump in his arms and let him have his way with me. But that would be crazy. I flushed a bit, embarrassed by my thoughts. He smiled, buttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. I smiled too, straightening the bottom of my ugly gray skirt. Then I jumped off the wall and ran across the roof, away from the complication.
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I walked to the computer room, Brad on my mind. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? It was one thing to be a good-looking guy but on top of that, he was so damn nice and understanding. It would have been easy to hate him for wanting to continue kissing me but I couldn’t. I wanted to continue kissing him and hated myself for it. I was with Barry, he was my love. Though we had a bit of a rough patch there a few weeks ago, the two of us were back and better than ever. I wasn’t going to let Brad or anyone else stand in the way of that.
As I approached the computer room, an attractive blonde came walking down the hall toward me. I squinted, remembering her from somewhere. She smirked at me, flashing her creepy red eyes. Red eyes? She passed by me with a strut in her step and a sway of her butt, sashaying like a slut. I didn’t give her any more thought but she was familiar. I think I might have accidentally bumped into her in the cafeteria once. Or she bumped into me, I couldn’t really remember. I shrugged and didn’t give her any more thought as I continued down the hall and into the computer room.
It was kind of cold in there and dark, the only lights coming from all the glowing screens. There had to be fifty computers in there, all of them in neat rows. I searched the place, finding Barry and another person hunched over a couple of fancy consoles. I smiled and slowly slunk through the room. I came up behind Barry, wrapping my arms around him, hoping I could make up for being such a bitch this morning. I even leaned over a bit and kissed him on the cheek. He didn’t even flinch; he got like that when he was in computer mode.
I sighed and looked over at his friend. He was wearing military fatigues. He was pimple faced, so he was clearly not a grunt. He had thick glasses and closely cropped hair. He looked like a techie. I looked at the name on his shirt: Corporal Cooper. I nodded. So this was Coop. Barry talked about him a lot, they were kind of kindred spirits. Coop was Barry’s Geek Buddy for lack of a better word. They usually worked side by side in the Information Center but the two of them spent a lot of time here too. I looked Coop up and down; he was definitely not, what I was expecting.
“Coop” said Barry. Not bothering to look up from the screen. “This is Becca, Becca this is Coop.”
The Corporal smiled. “Nice to m-e-e-e-t you ma’am” he stuttered, probably nervous that a girl had invaded his personal space.
“Same here” I said, actually meaning it.
“What took you so long?”
I rolled my eyes. When it was important, Barry hated to be kept waiting. There was a bit of an edge too his voice today, so apparently he hadn’t forgiven me for slapping him. I guess I deserved that.
“I was on the roof thinking” I said, I wasn’t going to let him be a dick to me. “So what’s so damn important?”
Coop looked even more nervous to be there. If I was him, I don’t think I’d want to be in the middle of our little lover’s quarrel either.
“Look, I’m going to leave you two alone” he said, looking from Barry to me and back again. “I’m back to the Info. room and do a double check on those numbers we found.”
Barry nodded. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Coop nodded and smiled at me. “Ma’am”.
He threw me a sloppy salute and then disappeared into the dark with a pile of papers in his hands. A few seconds later, there was a crash and a loud curse. I turned around. Coop had run into a chair in his haste, tripping over it and sending the papers flying all over the place. I smiled and debated helping him but that would have only pissed Barry off even more. So I turned back to my cranky boyfriend and looked at the screen. There was a bunch of numbers on it, none of it made any sense to me.
“What is all this?”
“Quentin Dekker’s bank account.”
I was floored. “You’re got to be shitting me. How did you…”
I stopped there. I didn’t want to know. Barry was like a super hacker, I didn’t need to ask where he got his info. He was what we affectionately liked to call a Technopath. He could interface with just about any piece of technology; his specialty was computers. He was one of the main reasons that all of us were able to escape the Syndicate. If it hadn’t been for him, Mattie, Clara, Donovan and I would still be in cells back at the place. There were a few others too, and all of us owed our freedom to him and his hacking skills. You could sort of say he was my Knight with the Shiny Laptop.
“So what does the bank accounts say about our slimy friend?”
Barry typed viciously on the keyboard. “It says that our friend Dekker has been sending large sums of money to a boarding school in England.”
“A boarding school?”
Barry nodded. “Look, here and here” He pointed to two lines on the screen that were just numbers to me. “It looks like they’re corresponding to semesters. It’s almost like he’s paying someone’s tuition.”
The wheels in my head were spinning. If he’s paying, tuition then that meant. I was stunned. “Dekker has a kid?”
Barry shrugged. “Either that or he likes to donate lots of money to this school.”
My face lit up. I could have kissed him. In fact, I reached over the chair and did just that. It was a slow and chaste kiss, not anything like the one I gave Brad early. It was kind of awkward, too, like I just didn’t have it in me to really give it to him. I felt kind of bad about that. But there was something else too, something I didn’t want to think about.
“Barry” I said after pulling away. “I love you.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to slap me anymore?”
I smiled and leaned in close to his ear. “Only if you want me to.”
I nibbled on his earlobe and then turned toward the door. I didn’t even bother to give him a proper goodbye. This was fantastic; it was the best news ever. I ran as fast as I could out of computer room and down the halls. I knew exactly where I was going. I wove through the crowds, zipping past people left and right. It didn’t take me long to get to my destination. I didn’t even knock when I got there. I just threw open the door, huffing and puffing as I did so. Mrs. Fine was sitting at her desk, occupied with something. I startled her when I came barging into the room.
“Something wrong, Sergeant?”
I caught my breath. “Quentin Dekker has a kid.”
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Four by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's chapter four, a transition chapter. There's a couple of new characters introduced here and a few new places. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and everyone else for their comments to my question I posted in my last chapter. You'll be happy to know that I have every intention of continuing to write in this wonderful universe.
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Chapter Four:
I sat in the briefing room, Mrs. Fine and Kris sitting across from me. The three of us were the only ones present; The Colonel was off on pressing matters. I’d only met him that once and he seemed busy then. He’d been busy a lot lately, going back and forth from here to the new Gamma site they were setting up in the desert. I guess I didn’t blame him; this place was starting to get to me, too. I’d been in the field twice so I guess I couldn’t really complain but there was just something about being cooped up here that was kind of unsettling. I needed to get out more and stretch my legs. I looked at the two women in front of me and then at the large monitors behind them and smiled.
“This is Chairmont Ladies College in _______, England,” said Mrs. Fine, pointing to one of the monitors behind her.
I looked up, seeing a castle looking building in the middle of a green countryside. It was kind of nice, a place to kick back and relax in.
“Is that the place Dekker’s been sending money to?”
Kris answered. “There are two hundred young women attending this school, from the ages of 12 to 18, out of those two hundred only fifteen are American. Ten of those fifteen check out, the other five are complete mysteries. If Quentin Dekker has a daughter, it’s a safe bet that she’s one of those five girls.”
I nodded. “Are we sure she’s American?”
“We’re not sure of anything at the moment,” said Mrs. Fine “We’ve been able to gather some information on Dekker. According to unnamed sources, he grew up in a small town in western New York, went to Brown and had an on again off again relationship with one Tracy Baxter. Miss Baxter, it would seem passed away a few years ago, its unknown if she had any children.”
“How in the hell can it be unknown, we’re the freaking US Government, don’t we have satellite laser beams that can scratch our asses.” Kris snorted. Mrs. Fine didn’t look amused but I pursued my course of questioning anyway. “Surely we can figure out if Dekker knocked her up or not.”
Mrs. Fine cleared her throat. “Miss Baxter was a free spirit. She didn’t exactly go to the college; Dekker met her in a bar. The two of them had a relationship for a few weeks and then she disappeared. She didn’t pop up onto the grid until her death, which was from a cocaine overdose. At the moment, that’s all we’ve been able to find on her.”
I sighed and nodded. So we didn’t know a damn thing. Boy, was this a waste of time.
Kris saw my frustration. “This doesn’t mean that Chairmont is a dead end. It just means that we need more information.”
I nodded. “So what’s the next course of action?”
Kris smiled. Mrs. Fine answered. “Infiltration of course.”
I smiled, too. It was about damn time.
After raiding Section One, Mrs. Fine called me into her office to put a proposal in front of me. She was creating a covert black op group for the Center; she called it Stealth Infiltration and Reconnaissance. The purpose of the team was to enter an environment ahead of a ground team and assess the situation, looking for any possible threat and gathering whatever Intel necessary for the other team to complete its mission. She wanted me to lead it. She figured with my unique skills and my penchant for getting into places through stealth, I was the perfect candidate. But that’s as far as it went unfortunately. There was no need for the team because there were no situations that really required us to act. So SIRS was put on the back burner. I brought it up when I went to pick up Donovan, Emma and Brad but the situation didn’t really call for it.
Now however it looked like it was our chance.
Mrs. Fine put some folders on the table, four of them. “These are just suggestions but I think the four individuals here would be ideal for the mission.”
I looked at the folder. “If I pick a team, I want them for every mission. I don’t want to have to pick and choose my guys each time I go out into the field, there’s too many variables to consider. When we’re not on missions we need to train and I can’t do that if I’ve got new guys each time.”
Mrs. Fine nodded. “Fair enough.” She looked at Kris, who nodded too. “This is your team, Sergeant. I think it only fair that you make all the rules.”
Now we’re talking. “Thank you, ma’am.”
I looked at the folders, not bothering to reach for them just yet. After she told me about SIRS, I already had a few members in mind. If we were going to be stealthy, then I needed someone with that kind of capability, so I’d already picked Stella. She was ideal for the job and though she only had a little field experience---she was with me when I made the pick up two weeks ago---she was ideal for this kind of thing. I kind of talked to her about it the other day, after she got back from one of her runs. Mr. Lions was having Ray work with her, trying to give her some combat training. She was doing pretty well, not ready for any serious hand-to-hand fights but good enough. Where she really excelled was weapons. She was a natural, not as good a shot as me but still a Grade A Sharpshooter.
The other member I had in mind was Barry. Ok, that one’s not hard to figure out. It’s not just because he’s my boyfriend either. He’s fantastic at what he does. There are only a few other people at the Center that can even come close to his skill with a computer---I can only think of two and one of them is at Beta site. Besides, there was no one else that I’d want on my team, backing me up in case the situation got rough.
Kris saw my smile. “You already have a team in mind, don’t you?”
I nodded. “I think I do.”
Mrs. Fine nodded too. Kris smirked. “Ok, well, go make the proposals to them and we’ll meet back here for an official debrief in a couple of hours.”
I stood up and took a deep breath. Now I just hope they’re not too mad at me for the way I’ve been acting lately.
________________________________
I took a deep breath as I stood in front of Emma’s door. It was important that I do this a lot more subtly than I did with Stella a few minutes ago. I caught Stella leaving our room; she was on her way to her afternoon run. She ran three times a day: morning, afternoon and evening. Sometimes I did the evening run with her if I wasn’t too exhausted. She was just slipping out of the room, dressed in her tight little running shorts and loose t-shirt. Her running outfit drove me nuts and it took everything I had to stop from salivating. When she saw me, she hadn’t been too happy. I think she heard about my behavior this morning, apparently it was getting around campus. I might have been a little abrupt with her too, but I was kind of in a rush. I kind of told her to go to the debriefing room in a couple of hours instead of asking her to do so. She gave me a look, one that told me she wasn’t amused but she nodded her head. I think she was a little curious. When I told her about SIRS before she was kind of excited about it and I think she was excited now, even if she was trying to mask it with her disgust for me.
I took a deep breath and knocked on Emma’s door. There was a bark from the other side, followed by someone fumbling with the lock. When the door opened, I was a bit surprised. Lola was standing there, her eyes red from crying. I bit my lip. I’d completely forgotten I’d made her upset earlier. I can be such a spaz sometimes. When she saw me, I thought she was going to slam the door in my face. She probably would have too, if not for Klondike. He was Emma’s Siberian husky; one of the few hold overs from her old life as Steve---besides her hockey jersey of course. The dog pushed his way past Lola, wedging the door open with his body.
I smiled and dropped to my knee, allowing the dog to lick my face. I’d always wanted a dog but because of my constant moving around, it wasn’t very practical. Foster families kind of frowned on those things too, don’t ask me why. I scruffed behind his ears and scratched the bridge of his nose.
“Tell me you didn’t come all this way to play with the dog,” snapped Lola, this time she didn’t even attempt to hide her resentment.
I sighed and got to my feet. “I think I deserved that.”
“Yes you did,” she said, sniffling. She was dressed in a pair of pink pajamas; clearly, she wasn’t leaving the room anymore today.
I cleared my throat. “I’m looking for Emma, is she around?”
Lola shook her head. “She went to the library with Danni and a few others. We have a paper due for English class, which you would have known if you hadn’t skipped it this morning.”
This time she did cover her mouth. I groaned. English was now one of my morning classes. Even though we didn’t have the same classes, the teachers shared the same curriculum. So if they had a paper then I had a paper. That elicited another groan from me. That’s all I needed to worry about, especially on top of everything else.
Lola didn’t have more to say so she turned and dragged her feet back into the room, Klondike followed her. I bit my lip and looked down the hall. Then I looked back at Lola and sighed. I didn’t wait for an invitation and slipped into the room behind her, I don’t think she noticed. Emma had only been here two weeks but already her side of the room was decorated. She used her money to make it look very similar to home I guess. In fact, it looked almost like a replica of her old bedroom. We went there, after rescuing her from Dr. Gloria Strickland and her house of pain. Emma’s side of the room had the same posters---mainly video game characters and hockey players. The walls in the room were a neutral blue. There was a dog bed in the corner in-between two dressers, underneath a window.
Lola walked over to her bed, flopping down on it. She snatched a pillow and held it to her chest. I walked over and sat on the edge of Emma’s bed; Klondike padded over and put his head in my lap. Lola just stared at me, looking glummer than before.
I cleared my throat. “Look, I’m sorry about before…upsetting you, I mean. I sometimes run my mouth a little more than I should.”
She nodded. “You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, you know?”
This time I nodded. There were probably a lot of kids here who’d lost people. A couple of them even watched their parents die in the Emergence. I can’t imagine how rough that must have been. Ok, I can admit that I’m being a bit selfish, thinking that my pain is the only one that matters.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You better go before Emma decides to hit the rink.”
I nodded and got to my feet, sliding the dog’s head from my lap.
There were a lot of places the Center had, most of them to help with the different powers. The ice skating rink was used for those select few who could control ice and things like that. There were a couple of them out there, in fact, I knew one, but she was off wandering the wilds somewhere now. She’d never been at the Center either. Emma was an ice skater now. She still played hockey a bit but one of the female trainers, Miss Orville, saw some kind of potential in her. The day after I got Emma and her brother here, Miss Orville came and sought Emma out. Not a lot of people used the rink unless they were cryokinetics, but Miss Orville used it a lot. When she heard Emma had some ice experience, she thought maybe she could talk her into some figure skating.
It’s strange. For being such a big bad hockey player as Steve, Emma was a graceful angel on the ice, taking to it pretty quickly.
“I’d better go then.”
I left the room, hesitating at the door before leaving. I looked back at Lola; she waved me on so I left. Klondike followed, running along with me as we went. I guess it didn’t really matter as long as he kept up. There were only a few animals at the Center, Klondike and Miss Bonsai---Kris’ cat---being the only few that I saw. But there were others. A girl who lived down the hall from me had this thing with birds. When she arrived, they had to build a little aviary on the grounds for her. Then there was Donovan. He talked to wolves. The wolves weren’t really his pets but they lingered about the place, in constant watch. They sort of slipped into the role of perimeter guards. They didn’t live on the grounds but they patrolled it like it was their territory. I’m not sure how many of them there were but more arrived as soon as we got here.
Klondike kept up with me as I ran through the halls. We were making a good pace and then he ran ahead. At first I didn’t see where he was going until the figure came into view. He was a strange dog but like some many others, he was somehow affected by the Emergence too. When Stella Emerged I was close by and formed some kind of bond with her. There were a few others just like me.
Klondike was no different. He was close by to Emma and Brad when they Emerged. Dr. Tipps and Dr. L weren’t sure how but Klondike seemed to have bonded with both of the twins. It was almost like he could sense where they were at all times, no matter the distance. It was kind of cool I guess, and Emma loved it. Me, I think it would creep me out a bit. It’s bad enough that my roommate made my heart flutter every time I saw her.
“Hey boy” said Brad as Klondike ran up to him, sitting and wagging his tail.
Brad bent down, letting the dog lick him in the face. I blushed. Twice in one day, I wonder who’s stalking who now. Yeah, I checked with Mattie---texted her on my run to the computer room earlier actually---no one sent Brad looking for me. That thought made me blush even more. But at the same time, this was really good because now I didn’t have to go looking for him. When he saw me, he smiled and got to his feet, looking more handsome than earlier.
“We keep running into each other like this.”
He was apparently coming from the library, there was a book tucked under his arm. “Is your sister still in there?”
He paused, confused for a second. “Sister? Oh you mean Emma?”
He smacked himself in the forehead. “You confused me there for a sec. Still getting used to that.”
I laughed. “You wear the boxer shorts now.”
He nodded. “I think she’s still there but she had her skate bag with you so you better hurry.”
I smiled. “I need you to meet us in the debrief room in an hour.”
He nodded. “We going on a mission?”
“Something like that.”
I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. But I did lose my running companion as Klondike stayed behind. Brad had a bed in his room for the dog as well. I don’t think his roommate minded much though, seeing as it was Donnie. I think he kind of liked it actually; it kept him close to a canine so he wouldn’t go nuts.
I ran into the library and looked around. It wasn’t an overly large place but it did have two floors. The top one had more reference stuff; the bottom was stocked with pop culture things, mainly fiction. I looked around, scanning the several tables. There were a lot of kids today, barely a free seat in the place. I looked over at the reference desk, the librarian Mrs. Gold was sitting there quietly, reading an old copy of some lesser known Twain novel. She was a nice old lady, kind of grand-motherly with her gray hair and joyful disposition. In fact, a lot of people called her “Granny” which I don’t think she minded one bit.
I turned away from Granny and spotted Emma. She was sitting at a table with Danni and another girl I didn’t recognize. I start running a bit until Granny looked up from her paper, giving me this look. I slowed down to a trot then a quick walk. The girls at the table looked up at me as I approached. I think the unknown girl might have turned an off shade of white. I got that a lot. Most of the kids who didn’t know me had that reaction. I think I had a reputation as being a bad ass as well as being a freak. It kind of pissed me off but then again with my behavior lately, I guess I couldn’t really blame people for thinking that.
Emma looked up from her book. “Hi Beck” she said, her voice had a hint of worry in it.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here to make anyone else cry and before you say anything” I was looking at Danni when I said this. “I have already apologized to Lola.”
Danni smiled. “She’s a bit sensitive and all, what with her brother dying recently and everything.”
I bit my lip. Damn, I’m really going to have to apologize to her now.
“Are you here to work on your paper?” asked the third girl at the table, the one I didn’t know.
I looked at her, trying to decide if she was familiar or not. She was a little thing with shoulder length black hair what looked like a tattoo of a star on her face. But when I squinted, I realized it was a birthmark. It looked kind of cute on her, like someone stuck one of those kindergarten star stickers on her cheek. It was horrible that I didn’t know this girl. But she looked so meek and quiet that I suppose anyone could have missed her.
Danni patted her hand. “Becca this is Vee. She’s new; they just brought her in a few days ago.”
No wonder I didn’t know her. Then I remembered something. I was in the hall a few days ago when they were bringing someone in. My eyes widened. There was no way this little thing could have been him though. The guy they were bringing in---Pre-Emergence---was huge. He had to have been six foot six and weighing three hundred pounds. There was no way this little girl could have been him, she looked to be about four feet tall and couldn’t have weighed more than sixty pounds.
“That’s me,” she said softly. “I was on the JV squad at my school, a linebacker.”
I groaned. I hated mind readers. I cursed. “Sorry.”
She smiled. “It’s ok,” she said softly again. “It kind of freaks me out too.”
Emma brought me back on topic. “Becca’s not here about her paper, she slept through class again.”
Don’t remind me. Vee smiled. “I’m actually looking for you,” I said, looking at Emma now. “The boss has given us the go ahead. I need you in the debriefing room in about an hour or so.”
Emma’s eyes widened. On the way to the Center, I briefly told her and her brother about SIRS too. I liked the way both of them handled themselves in Grayson. I could definitely see a bright future working with them. Density manipulators weren’t a dime a dozen and a pair of them was like winning the lottery. Emma would be real good for the situations in which we might have to blow cover and engage and Brad would be good for all the sneaking around, especially seeing as he could walk through walls. I read Marcus’s debrief, I knew all about what he did when the two of them were trapped in that room by that nut Anastasia. Brad was a quick thinker and I could definitely use that.
Emma groaned, looking at her skates. “Miss Orville isn’t going to be happy.”
“You can play ice ballerina later.”
Emma nodded. “You’re the boss, Sarge.”
She smiled when she said it because she knew I hated it when people called me Sarge. “You’ve been hanging around Samson too much.”
She blushed at that. This time I smiled. Corporal Samson was my constant tactical support, the two of us going on two missions together already, the last one being where we picked up Donnie and the twins. Samson took a shine to Emma, I mean who wouldn’t. Like her brother, she was gorgeous, like a Goddess who descended from the skies to be with us mortals. But even as pretty as she was, she was still very much a guy and I think Samson kind of liked that. She was sort of a guy’s girl, able to talk sports and video games while at the same time looking beautiful doing it. In the cafeteria, during most meals, a lot of the guys smiled and waved at her.
I didn’t stay around much after that. I nodded to the three of them and turned to walk out of the room. As I was doing so, someone got up from one of the tables and I ran into her. She snapped around, a sneer on her face. I groaned, it was that same girl from the computer hall earlier. Her red eyes flared at me.
“Watch it, you freak.”
I heard a chair slide behind me and suddenly Emma had her hand on my shoulder. “Becca she’s not worth it.”
My fists were clenched at my sides. I narrowed my eyes at the girl. “What the hell is your problem anyway?”
She flipped her long blonde hair. “My problem is clumsy girls who don’t watch where they’re going. That’s the third time you’ve run into me.”
One of the other girls at the table---she long sable colored hair---shook her head. “Samantha drop it, she’ll mop the floor with you.”
The other two girls at the table---I didn’t know any of them---nodded their heads. The girl, Samantha, sighed and slipped back into her chair. Samantha, huh, now I had a name for the face. I glared at her, trying to look as threatening as possible. The girl didn’t seem too worried though. She flipped her damn hair again and picked up a pencil. She held it between her fingers and smirked. The pencil started to turn red hot and then crumbled to ash. I smirked too. What was so impressive about that? Samantha looked smug though, thinking she’d scared me. In fact, she started filing her nails. I snatched the nail file from her hand and ran it across my arm, drawing blood but feeling no pain.
The other girls at the table looked like they were going to pee themselves.
Samantha stood up, touched the nail file. The little metal object got red, as if it was heating up. Any normal person probably would have dropped it and screamed out but not me. Me, I shrugged and faked a yawn. This time Samantha looked a little frightened.
“Girls” called Granny from her desk. “None of that here or I’ll call Mrs. Fine.”
That seemed to scare Samantha more than it did me. She dropped into her chair, abandoning her nail file. I dropped it in her lap; it was still red hot. She yelped a bit, jumping. I smirked, shrugged off Emma’s hand and walked confidently toward the door.
____________________________________
About an hour and a half later, everyone assembled in the debriefing room. I looked around the table; everyone that I wanted was there, including Kit and Samson. The two soldiers were sitting next to one another, at rapt attention. I looked at all the faces and smiled. This was it; this was the team that I imagined. I turned and looked at Barry sitting next to me; I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He barely noticed, his head stuck in the laptop. I frowned and caught Brad’s gaze. The two of us stared at other longer than I wanted. It should have been uncomfortable considering our kiss was something else. But it wasn’t. Looking at him made me all warm and fuzzy inside. My feelings for him were wrong but I couldn’t help. They were escalated more when Barry pulled his hand from mine, a sign that he didn’t want any affection.
I huffed and looked at the rest of the people in the room. Emma was sitting between Stella and her brother. Klondike was lying on the floor next to her. The dog followed Brad into the room and even though Mrs. Fine frowned at it, she didn’t shoo him away. I think she was a big softy for the dog. I caught her giving him a treat a few days ago but she did it really discreetly. I turned my attention to Stella who was sitting on the other side of me; she was back in her school uniform, which made me frown a bit. Not that it would have been very professional for her to show up to this in her running clothes, I still would have loved to see her in those shorts again. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers.
“Sergeant” said Mrs. Fine, looking around the room at those assembled. “Is this the team that you wanted?”
I looked at everyone and turned to her, nodding. “This is it, ma’am.”
She nodded and cleared her throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Stealth Infiltration and Reconnaissance Squad.”
My friends smiled. The two soldiers looked emotionless but I could tell they were happy too.
Mrs. Fine cleared her throat again. “Now that that’s out of the way, I can start this briefing.” She picked up a clicker from the circular table we were sitting at. She pointed it at the monitors, bringing up a picture of that castle school. “This is Chairmont Ladies College in _________, England.”
Everyone nodded. Mrs. Fine clicked again. Several more pictures of the place flipped across the screen as she clicked and explained what each were. She had shots of most of the building’s exterior and some of the interior as well. The interior ones didn’t look like they were public photos either. It looked like they sent someone into the school and took those pictures. It was kind of creepy, especially how fast they seemed to operate. The Center must have had a lot of pull.
Mrs. Fine finally clicked off the school and to a very familiar face. “This is Quentin Dekker aka Mr. Green” she said, looking at me before everyone else. “He was a Warden at Section Four and is currently on the FBI’s Most Wanted list for a series of crimes, the top most being murder. After the destruction of Section Four, Dekker went off the grid for a month and then popped up again.” She clicked and the grainy image of him outside of Section One popped up. “This is the last known appearance of him before he fell off the grid again; this one was taken a few weeks ago, outside of the facility known as Section One.”
We all nodded. Mrs. Fine clicked again, this time an image of a group of girls in navy blue uniforms came up onto the screens. “This is the Concert Band for Our Lady of Angels School in _______, New York.” She clicked again, the screen switched to a close up of three girls; they were holding cellos. “These three are their cello section, sixteen years old, their names not important. In two days time, the Concert Band of Angels is taking a week-long field trip to a small school in London England. We’ve changed their itinerary. Now the girls will be playing a weeklong engagement at Chairmont Ladies College. “
Stella interrupted. “What does this have to do with Dekker?”
Mrs. Fine frowned at her, Stella lowered in her seat. “I was getting to that, Miss Griffin.”
She clicked again, bringing up a picture of those numbers I saw on Barry’s computer screen earlier today. “These are Quentin Dekker’s bank account records. Thanks to Mr. Morrison, we now know that Dekker has been wiring large sums of money to the school, we have reason to believe that he might have a child in attendance there.”
She clicked again, bringing up a picture of a woman with bleached blonde hair and a lot of makeup. “This is Tracy Baxter; we believe she might be the young woman’s mother.” She clicked and the images of several girls appeared, shrinking to fit the screen, one moving next to the other. “There are two hundred young women attending this school, only fifteen of them are American. These girls right here.” We all looked at the screen and nodded. “We have reason to believe that Dekker’s child is one of them.”
I looked intently at the screens but none of them looked anything like the slime ball. Maybe they took after their mother. “Are you planning on inserting us into the school to look for her?”
Mrs. Fine clicked back to the Band picture. “We’ve created emergencies for the three cello players families, leaving their three spots open. You three girls” She pointed to me, Emma and Stella. “Will be filling those vacant spots.”
I was the first one to speak up after the three of us were done groaning. “We don’t know how to play the cello?”
If Mrs. Fine ever smiled, she would have now. Instead, she pushed a button on the table intercom. “Send him in please.”
I turned and watched the door open and a kid with a mop of shaggy brown hair walk into the room. He had his hands in his pockets and walked with an air of confidence. He would have been kind of cute if not for the chip on his shoulder. He looked smug, looking around the room with muddy brown eyes. Those eyes locked on Stella for a second and then Emma. He smiled slightly at both of them. Then his eyes went to me and his smile got bigger. I shuddered. Great, a creep, that’s all I needed.
“Girls, this is Connor” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He has a unique ability of taking information and placing it in the heads of others.”
I shuddered again. This creep was going to put stuff in my head.
“Heya ladies” he said, smiling widely.
I think all three of us dry heaved at the same time.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Five by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Chapter five...finally. Sorry it took so long but I was having problems getting it just right. Its another slow chapter but I promise things will pick up soon. There's a little scene that sets things up for a side story I want to do with some of my other characters when this one is over. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and everyone else who had a hand in helping me get this one done...you know who you are.
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Chapter Five:
“I look like a dweeb,” I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Stella came up behind me. She didn’t look any better. The two of us were in the airport bathroom, getting changed into our “school uniforms.” At least she looked somewhat like herself, me I looked like a totally different person. Gone were my purple eyes---made muddy brown by contacts--- and my streak was covered up with a bad dye job. My hair was still black but it didn’t look the same with a little barrette in it. Yeah, I said barrette. Apparently, my look kind of skewed toward rebellious and made me stand out too much. Mrs. Fine wanted the three of us to look as normal as possible. I’m not sure how normal my fake glasses looked. They were a new design of Barry’s, seeing as I couldn’t exactly wear my sunglasses. They were a tempered glass; supposedly, they’d keep the dangerous light from my eyes. But they still looked pretty much like normal glass. I’m not sure how he does it.
“You look cute,” said Stella as her reflection buttoned the last of the top tow buttons of her white blouse.
“You guys should consider yourselves lucky,” shouted Emma from one of the stalls behind us. These pigtails make me look like a four year old.”
I couldn’t argue with that. But with my glasses and the uniform, I was a definite dork.
“Here” said Stella, holding up a blue blazer. “Put this on so that when they come in here to get us we look somewhat ready.”
The “they” she was referring too were the school chaperones. I’m not talking about Center ones either. I’m talking about the three teachers from Our Lady of Angels, the school that we were supposedly from. The chaperones and the other girls in the band knew we weren’t but we were supposed to be from a sister school from another city. How many Catholic schools are there that are called Our Lady of Angels? Whatever the number, there weren’t enough nuns out there to get me to wear that stupid hat the other girls were wearing.
I huffed as I slipped on the navy blue blazer, trying not to think about all the naughty Catholic schoolgirl jokes that were rolling around in my head. I looked down and groaned. From the patent leather shoes on my feet to the white knee socks and pleated blue plaid skirt, I looked like an extra for a Britney Spears video. All except the blue blazer of course. I fingered the crest; it was some fancy something or other. It still made me look like a dweeb.
I bet you’re kind of confused huh? Well, let me see if I can backtrack a bit.
__________________________________
After the others left the room, it was just him and us three girls. Mrs. Fine was in the other room, talking to Corporal Samson. Apparently, he was going to lead the rest of my team over tonight, getting things set up for our arrival. It would seem that Stella, Emma and I wouldn’t be shipping out until the girls from Our Lady of Angels did. The whole itinerary was sitting on the table in front of me, in an unopened folder. I was concentrating on Connor and the way he was looking at us. It was hard to believe this creep was ever a girl, especially the way he kept looking at our chests. Didn’t he have any common courtesy or at least respect for his former gender.
I wanted to lean over the table, grab his head and slam it as hard as I could into the far wall. Of course, that wouldn’t solve anything but it would sure make me feel better. Instead, I fidgeted in my seat, trying to turn my body so that he didn’t have such a good view of my assets.
He looked a little upset. “You’re the shy type I see.”
I snorted. “No, I’m the type that’ll kick your ass.”
My threat didn’t seem to bother him. “Feisty huh? I like those types too.”
I groaned and got to my feet. He didn’t even move as I made to grab for him. Instead, Emma was there, putting a strong hand on my shoulder. She didn’t use much force but she pushed me back into my chair. Connor smirked; I think the little prick found it amusing. I wonder how amusing he’d find it after I ordered Emma to put his ass through the wall. Not that I would but I could surely threaten him with it.
He turned his attention to her. “You’re a strong one. What do you bench?”
She shrugged. “525 without breaking a sweat.”
So it turns out that Emma’s density manipulation was a strange thing indeed. It made her body rock hard and nearly indestructible but it also turned out that it gave her a lot of strength too. The day after she arrived, they ran her through a battery of tests. During her power training, they had her hitting a lot of force sensors and things like that. One of her punches could generate close to a thousand pounds of force, way over the limit to kill a human being. That was if she pushed it though. She had a lot of power and she could use it to varying degrees. As far as her bench pressing went, 525 was her lightest. I’m not sure what they finally clocked as her heaviest but it was over seven hundred pounds. So Emma was definitely not someone to mess with.
“You’re quite the little Juggernaut huh,” he said with a smile. “The sweet and delicate prima donna who can throw a pickup truck through a wall.”
It was an over exaggeration but I bet she could lift a car at least.
She was about to open her mouth to say more but just then the door opened and Mrs. Fine walked into the room. She was carrying more folders. I looked at them and groaned. Her folders meant the four of us were probably going to be here forever. She set them down on the table in front of her then slid them over to Connor. He winked at me and then opened the first one, smiling. What the hell was that all about?
“Now girls” she said as she took a seat. “While Mr. Jackson reads, I’ll fill you in on your exact mission parameters.”
I turned my attention away from Connor and listened intently as Mrs. F laid down the law. It was pretty much a rehash of before but with a few added details. The three of us were now from Detroit and we were the best of friends---like that was hard to fake. It was only coincidence that the three of us could play cello---yeah right. She told us to open our folders and look at the info inside. As soon as I opened mine, I saw a doctored photo of myself. It looked like me except for some added differences. I groaned. No purple eyes, no streak, glasses. I looked like a dork and what was with the name. No longer was I Rebecca Howe---at least for the next week or so---I was now Rebecca Logan. According to my file, I was the only child of Dr. Frederick Logan and his wife, Cheryl. There were no pictures of my fake parents though.
Underneath the first page there was another, it appeared to be a transcript. It was from the Detroit branch of Our Lady of Angels, the school the three of us apparently attended. It had everything, including fake extra curriculums and schedules. There were a few pages of it; I was kind of impressed. When the Center created a false ID, they really went all out. It even had a fact sheet of useless crap I was supposed to remember about my fake life in case anyone asked. I was an Aquarius; I had a dog named Scootle---what the hell kind of name is that---and a cat called Barker. I raised my eyebrow at Mrs. F after reading that.
The rest of the folder was a layout of the Detroit school, including a map and places of interest that we should know. Under that was a layout of the British school, Chairmont, stuff that we’d have to memorize if we wanted to complete our mission. I skimmed it quickly, hoping I’d get a chance to thoroughly look at it later.
“All done” said Connor; his voice was annoying, oozing with confidence.
Mrs. Fine nodded. “You can look at those later girls. You need to give Mr. Jackson your full and undivided attention now.”
He turned to me. “If you don’t mind, Sergeant, I think I’ll start with you?”
I looked at Mrs. Fine as Connor stood up and walked over, taking the seat next to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing to worry about Miss Howe” she said confidently. “Mr. Jackson needs to have physical contact with his subject in order for his gift to work.”
Connor nodded and raised his hands toward my head. I grabbed the nearest one. “And what the hell is he doing?”
Mrs. Fine sighed. “The information in the folder is for you. He’s read it all and now he’s going to use his gift to put that information in your head.”
You’ve got to be shitting me. I glared at him. He smirked and easily pulled his arm from my grip. It surprised me how strong he was.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Before I knew what was happening, he put his hands on my temples. I squirmed; his palms were ice cold. At first, I panicked a bit but then there was this relaxing calm. I closed my eyes and let it flow through me. Then something happened. I’m not really sure how to describe it. Images started popping into my head, first slowly then rapidly. They were too fast to keep track off but the calming feeling kept me from screaming out. I’m not sure how long it lasted but he was done before I knew it. He let go of my head and I opened my eyes. I was a little woozy and swayed a bit.
He smiled. “It’s a little daunting at first but after a few more times you’ll get used to it.”
“A few more times?” I asked groggily.
Mrs. Fine nodded. “This is just a test run, to get the three of you used to it. Mr. Jackson’s gift only works for about twenty-four hours on his subjects. After that he needs to redo it.”
My grogginess faded and he moved on to Emma. “Does that mean he’s coming with us?”
Please say no. Mrs. Fine nodded. “You don’t mind, do you? He’s not a member of your team of course; consider him a temporary addition. He has extensive combat training, much like your friend Mr. Lomax, except Jackson actually processing the information into his head.”
I nodded. “I feel like I’ve been violated.”
I closed my eyes and suddenly something came to me. I thought about the cello and then I knew everything about it. It came as a rush of images; it was nauseating. I opened my eyes and groaned, rubbing my temples. How in the hell was I going to be able to sleep at night? I heard a moan from my left and turned to see Emma and Stella looking groggy and rubbing their temples. Connor smiled and then walked back to his seat, he winked at me as he passed. I gave him the finger, which Mrs. F frowned at.
“Now that you’ve all been given a bit of Mr. Jackson’s magic, I can officially dismiss you.”
My two teammates got to their feet, wobbling like two drunken Sorority girls. They actually leaned into one another as they stumbled for the door. I couldn’t help but smile a bit. But there was no way I was going to stand until I was one hundred percent sure; I wasn’t going to fall on my ass. I watched as Emma helped steady Stella and the two of them walked toward the door together.
“Wait out in the hallway girls; I need to discuss a few things with the Sergeant.”
They looked at me, I nodded and they left.
I turned to Mrs. Fine. “You have something for me, I take it?”
She nodded. She walked over to a corner in the room and retrieved a box then walked back over to the table. She set the box down and took two items out of it: a laptop and a pink sequined cell phone.
“This is an encrypted laptop; password protected for only your use, not even Mr. Morrison can use it.” I nodded, it was a little extreme but I understood the security.
“And the girly phone?”
She picked it up. “It’s set up with a scrambler. It will wire calls directly through Specialist Rodriguez in the Mobile Command Unit. She’ll handle all go between calls between you and me for the entirety of the mission.”
I nodded. “You suspect something too?”
She didn’t nod. She just looked over at Connor and narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled, bowed his head quickly and made a mad dash for the door. She didn’t talk until he closed it. “We have reason to believe there might be a security leak. We had a similar incident happen at Beta site and the coincidence of your friend Mr. St .James showing up at Section One cant’ be overlooked.”
I nodded, wondering when we’d start talking about it. “You think we have a traitor?”
“There’s a strong possibility that that might be the case.”
“I can bring Barry in on this; he’s really good with these things.”
“No” she said quickly. “There are only four people in the know about this, two of them sitting in this room. Colonel Harris and WO Keyes have given you full authorization to act accordingly. They’ve given me the same authority. If a mole is discovered, by either of us, we have the go ahead to terminate him or her by any means necessary.”
“I understand”
“One more thing” she said and reached into the box, taking out what looked like a big dictionary.
I groaned; she was giving me a book. “I don’t need one of those.”
She set it on the table and opened it up. I was fairly surprised. It wasn’t a book, it was a hollowed out compartment, shaped suspiciously like a Beretta. I smiled at her and she nodded. She closed the book and slid it across the table to me.
“You’re the only member of the school team that will go in armed. I’ve already cleared it with airport security on both ends so you’ll have no problems.”
I took the book and tucked it under my arm. “Thank you ma’am”
She nodded, putting the laptop and cell phone back into the box. “I’ll have these put with your things.” She straightened the front of her blazer. “Now we need to get you and the others down to wardrobe for a fitting.”
I groaned. The things I did for the good of humanity.
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“Hi, I’m Diana Spencer,” said the blonde as she sat in the seat next to me.
I turned from looking out the window and smiled at her. She was wearing a uniform similar to mine and had a big smile. She looked like one of those girls who wanted to be friends with everyone. She had shoulder length blonde hair and straight bangs. I looked beyond her and saw Emma and Stella sitting together in the aisle across from us. I inwardly groaned. How was it that I got Miss Perky and they got to sit together? I stared at them for a few more seconds before I realized that Diana was asking me a question.
“Sorry” I said, looking back at her with that fake smile I’ve learned to adapt to any situation. “I’m Rebecca Logan.”
I shook her hand. “You’re from Michigan, right?”
“Detroit.”
Images flooded into my brain and I winced slightly. It’d been two days since Connor did his first mind whammy on the three of us. After the first initial “time”, the images faded from our heads. Connor gave us another go right before we left yesterday. I looked at my watch quickly, it’d be only a few more hours before the info started to fade. If I was going to answer questions about where I lived, now had to be the time. So Diana asked me questions and I did my best to answer them. We talked through the take off which was fine by me because I’m a little wary about this whole flying thing. I’ve been on the Center’s private jet a few times but this was the first time I’d ever flown commercial before.
After getting everything, she could out of me she started talking about herself. She liked that apparently. She yakked for about an hour, telling me everything. In the end, I think I knew more about her than my fake self. I smiled through the whole conversation, wondering if she was going to test me when she was done. The girl liked to talk and I didn’t so it worked out real well. Every once and a while I caught Stella or Emma staring at me over Diana’s shoulder. Both of them were either smiling or snickering. I wanted to smack both of them.
“You look like you’re having fun,” said Stella, utilizing my super hearing and knowing I couldn’t respond.
I glared at her and she got the biggest smile. She was so going to get it later. After another hour, Diana finally ran out of things to say. Instead, the flight attendant brought her a girly mag and she got lost in it. I sighed and turned toward the window, taking a look. We were over the ocean now but all I could see were glimpses of blue through the clouds. Our plane left at eleven in the morning New York time and we’d be in the air about seven hours or so.
Technically, in New York time we’d land in England at six o’clock at night. But in Greenwich Mean Time, it’d be about eleven o’clock at night. How confusing is that? I tried not to think about. Instead, I could help but think about an incident that happened as we were leaving.
We were getting our gear ready, loading our bags into the van. I was heading back into the building when Barry’s friend Coop appeared at the end of the hall. He was holding a stack of papers, trying to get my attention. At the time, I barely noticed him because we were in a rush to get to the private airstrip. Now that I thought back to it, I think he might have been trying to get my attention. I’m not sure why I ignored him. Thinking about it made me groan. It was possible that he had more info to tell. I made a mental note to ask about him at my next check in point.
I looked at my watch. It was in about twelve hours, once the three of us were settled.
“You look at your watch a lot,” said Diana, apparently she was done with her magazine.
“I’m obsessed with time and schedules.”
She nodded. “My father is just like that.”
This led into another hour or so of her telling me all about her father and his Insurance business. I wanted to scream; in fact, I did inside my head. Stella snickered and I glared at her some more. She was so dead as soon as we landed. Diana stopped talking about her father when she yawned. Which got me yawning, too. Then she turned away, back to another magazine. Me, I turned back to the window, my mind drifting back to Brad of all people. Thinking about him brought a smile to my face. I knew I shouldn’t have been, I was with Barry after all but there was something about Brad that I couldn’t get out of my head. He was so different from Barry and thinking about him helped me forget all about Dekker and killing him. I yawned, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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“Becca, honey, there’s someone at the door for you.”
I sighed, getting up form my bed. There was always someone at the door for me lately. People seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, wanting to be friends with the new girl. Not that I was complaining, but it wasn’t anyone that I really wanted to hang with. Most of them were annoying people, just trying to get brownie points by talking to the freaky Goth chick. Yesterday for instance, I went to the door and found a gaggle of cheerleaders standing there. Their leader---a blonde named Samantha---thought maybe we could hang a bit. So I took them up to my room and they asked twenty questions. It didn’t take me long to realize it was some kind of freak outreach program and they were trying to convert me into one of them.
I trudged out of my room and down the stairs. I could hear Mom in the kitchen, doing the dishes. It was just after dinner so whoever was coming around at this hour was probably starved for attention. The door was right at the end of our narrow staircase. It had one of those windows that had frosted glass or whatever they call it. I could see a person standing behind it and unless one of the girl’s basketball team members was here to see me, I could tell it was a guy. I was about to grab the knob and open the door when I caught my reflection in the front hall mirror. He caused a great deal of confusion. It was me and yet it looked wrong. I turned to get a better look, frowning. Since when did I have brown eyes and what was up with my hair? I left the door and walked over to the mirror, giving myself a real good once over.
I touched my face, ran my fingers through my hair and blinked my eyes a few times. It was definitely me but there was something off about me. I bit my lip and the person at the door knocked again, louder this time. I turned to it but couldn’t seem to peel myself away from the door.
“Honestly” said my mother, coming out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “You’re standing right in front of it and you can’t bother to answer it.”
I shrugged and she shook her head. She tossed me the towel and opened the door. I was on the opposite side so I couldn’t see who it was.
“Hi ma’am, I’m Brad Ford, I go to school with Rebecca.”
Brad Ford? Rebecca? No one called me Rebecca except my mother and that was only when she was pissed at me. Like last week when I accidentally dropped a tray of ice cubes on the cat. Hey, you try walking when he weaves through your legs like that.
My mother looked around the door at me. “There’s a nice young man here to see you.”
Young man, really, could my mom sound any older. She was practically young enough to be my older sister and she had to call him a young man. She did give me this look though, waggling her eyebrows at me. Yeah real mature. I stuck my tongue out at her and stepped around the side of the door, taking a look at Mr. Brad Ford. I wanted to eep. I knew him; he was in a couple of classes. He was tall and fair, golden blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes. Al l the girls were after him. He was Captain of the JV Basketball team and President of our sophomore class. Ok so I knew him but I didn’t know this was him. I mean I knew the face but not the name…you know what, forget it.
He smiled at me, running a hair through his curly locks. “Hey, ah Becca, right?” I nodded and he sighed. “A couple of us are going down to Green’s. It’s a diner around the block, we were wondering if you wanted to tag along.”
I looked past him at the truck parked out in front of my house. There were five or six kids in the back seat. They all looked like the In Crowd. I looked to the passenger seat, seeing a blonde haired girl that was just as gorgeous as Brad. I remembered hearing he had a twin, Emma or something, the kids at school called them the “Golden Duo” or some crap like that.
I looked back at him. “Is this more Freak Outreach?”
My mother smacked me in the back of the head. “She’d love to go.”
She gave me a shove in the back, right into Brad’s chest. I flushed with embarrassment. I turned to snap at my mother and she threw my hoodie at me. Before I could make a comment, she shut the door in my face. Thanks for that, Mom. I turned to Brad and smiled sheepishly. He smiled back.
“Was that your mother?” I nodded. “Isn’t she a little young?”
I sighed. “Long story” I shrugged on my hoodie. “I don’t want to explain it. Let’s just go to this place and get the torture over with.”
Brad didn’t say anything as the two of us walked across my lawn to the truck. There was no room in the cab of course so I was forced to get into the back with the others. As I was climbing in, a black guy grabbed my forearm and pulled me up. Then a pink haired girl slid over, making room for me. I smiled. What was she doing with them? This was the In Crowd, all the guys wearing letter jackets and she was a freak like me. They all introduced themselves: Cori---Miss Pink Hair---was the only girl. The others were Brad’s teammates, Connor, Barry and Marcus. Barry was kind of cute in that strange kind of way and Connor, I didn’t like the way he kept staring at my chest.
We drove to the diner in relative silence. Why they decided to drag me along was beyond me. I was the new girl, social suicide as far as they were concerned. No one came and took the new girl anywhere. Yet these guys seemed to think it was ok to hang with me? What gives? I guess I can’t complain. All I would have done was sit up in my room and throw darts at pictures of celebs I cut from teen magazines. I don’t read them but they make good target practice.
The diner was small and fifties-like. We got a booth, which ended up being two, the girls---me, Cori and Emma in one---the guys in the other.
Cori and Emma seemed to be friends which was weird because Cori was clearly the School Outcast and Emma was Prom Queen. But the two of them got a long real well. They were talking about the mall, chatting like old friends. Finally, they turned their attention to me:
“Have you been to the Center yet, Becca?”
“What’s that?”
Emma laughed. “It’s the mall. We call it that because it’s the center of town, it’s practically where all the kids hang out, it’s almost like a second school.”
I shook my head. “Mom and I don’t get out much.”
“Can I take your orders, girls” asked an annoyed voice.
I looked up to see a middle-aged waitress with black and white hair. I looked at her nametag, it said Miranda. She looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. I squinted at her and she winked at me. How freaky was that? I looked around the rest of the room; there was no one else in here except for a man in a green suit. Yea, he was wearing green; I didn’t even know they made green suits. What was up with that? As if he knew I was staring at him, he slowly turned from his counter seat and looked at me.
The blood froze in my veins and the world seemed to melt away. I knew him, I knew him really well.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Dekker stood up and the counter faded away. The diner faded too. The girls, Cori and Emma were still chatting about the Center when they dissolved into nothingness. I looked at the guys, both Brad and Barry looked at me, they both reached for me. I reached for them and then they too dissolved away along with everyone else. Soon it was just me and Dekker, standing in a black void, face to face.
“You look really cute in that school girl outfit, Howe,” he said with a smirk.
I looked down and sure enough, I was dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl. When did that happen? In fact, when did I realize that he was Dekker and this was another one of my dreams? How did I even know it was a dream?
I looked around the room, looking for a weapon. If this was my dream then I had control. I found what I was looking for quickly enough. I snatched a knife off one of the tables, holding it toward him, keeping him at arm’s length.
He laughed. “You’re not in charge here, Howe,” he said and the knife melted in my hand. “This is my world and in my world I make the rules.”
He pulled a gun from his belt and pulled the trigger, firing three times into my chest. I stumbled backwards and fell. I continued to fall until darkness swallowed me and then I screamed…
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Six by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's six, things are still moving a bit slow but it'll get there. I'd like to thank mittfh for all the help with England and djkauf for all the wonderful editing.
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Chapter Six:
I snapped awake, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I nearly smacked my head on the seat in front of me and was a bit confused for a second. I looked around, noticing that this wasn’t my room in the Center. I groaned. I was on a plane, flying over the Atlantic toward England. I rubbed the back of my neck then turned to look out the window. There were still clouds streaking past and the sky was a midnight blue in color. I turned to the girl sitting next to me. Diana was asleep too, apparently the flight got to her as well. I looked past her over to Emma and Stella. Both of them were looking at me, concern on their faces.
“You have another one?”
Once again, I couldn’t talk back because I’d look like a nut. So instead, I nodded my head.
Emma sighed but Stella was the one who spoke. “You need to tell someone about them.” Before I could shake my head, she shook hers. “Enough of this brave soldier shit either. This isn’t healthy. You’re hurting inside and Dr. Tipps can help. I want you to call and make an appointment with her, maybe even one with the shrink at Chairmont.”
I shook my head. Emma spoke this time. “You’re doing it and that’s final.”
The look on both of their faces was enough to leave me stunned. It wasn’t just anger; the two of them were genuinely concerned for me. I sighed and nodded. I’m not sure if I would but at least it would get them off my back. I could handle the dreams and everything else. They weren’t the problem; it was the feeling I had when I woke and realized they were dreams. In the dreams, I was happy because Trish was there and the two of us were living the life that we should have been living. Away from missions and the Center and someone trying to kill us every time we walked out the door. The dream world was peaceful---save for the end---and I didn’t want that to stop. I wasn’t ready for it to stop. I wasn’t ready to let go.
Stella narrowed her eyes at me. I don’t think she believed me. The two of us had only been roommates for such a short time but already we’ve been able to pick up each other’s subtleties. I think she knew I was lying and didn’t like it. I turned away from her, back to the window. I heard Stella’s huff. I didn’t care. Well, I cared but there wasn’t much I could do about it. As soon as we landed and got to the school then maybe the three of us could have an actual conversation instead of a one sided they talk and I nod conversation.
I continued to look out the window for a little bit until I felt the pressure on my bladder. I groaned; trying to remember the last time I went to the bathroom. I took a deep breath, slowly got to my feet and slipped past Diana. She mumbled and fidgeted a bit but I was able to slip past her without waking her up. I passed a flight attendant in her tight skirt suit but she only smiled. I walked past her and slowly made my way down the aisle. Most people didn’t even look but there was a pair of frat guys who gave me a once over, lingering a bit longer than I would have liked on my bare legs.
I tried to ignore them but it’s pretty hard when they’re staring at you even after you walk past them. Near the bathroom was a single guy, sleeping with his head on his chest. I looked at him for a split second and stopped. There was something about him, something familiar. I gave him a second look: he had black hair, wore a pair of wire-framed glasses and had a beard. He didn’t look like anyone I knew but there was something. I stared for a few seconds longer and sighed, finally deciding that I was being too paranoid lately. I shrugged and slipped into the bathroom. It didn’t take me long. It was too cramped in there to want to spend a lot of time. As I was washing my hands, I looked at the strange girl staring back at me. There was no way I could pretend to be someone else for a week, especially someone who looked like that.
I groaned and shut off the sink. As I got out of the bathroom, a flight attendant came up to me.
“Please head back to your seat, miss,” she said smiling. “We will be landing in a few minutes.”
I nodded and moved up the aisle, glaring at the pervy jackasses as I passed. I got to my seat just as the pilot came over the PA and told us to fasten our seatbelts.
_______________________________
About an hour after the plane landed at Birmingham International Airport, the group of us were ushered into three waiting vans, one chaperone per each. There were about twenty of us girls altogether, I’m not sure if that was big for a band or small. I don’t have much experience with those kinds of things and all the stuff that Connor put into my head was all but gone. I know I found myself sitting in the middle of a seat, Emma on one side and Stella on the other. The three of us made sure that as soon as we landed that we weren’t separated. Diana was in the van with us too, as well as a couple of other girls: Charlotte, Rachel and Courtney. All three of them played the clarinet; Diana was a flute player. She told me all about it on the plane. Thankfully she and the others were friends and were busy chatting it up, going on and on about Joe Jonas.
There are some things that I hate about being a girl.
Emma and Stella looked about as disinterested in the topic as well. They were sitting silently, Stella tugging on the end of her short skirt every few seconds. I didn’t blame her; they were far too short. I kept looking at my legs and groaning. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d exposed that much skin in the open. When not in the Center---wearing those dreadful uniforms---I usually wore jeans or gray cargos. I also got away with wearing my boots. But none of those were packed in my suitcase or duffel. Mrs. Fine made sure that the three of us were the prim and proper young ladies that we were supposed to be. So our wardrobes now consisted of lots of skirts and dresses. The three of us groaned when she had told us that.
I took a chance to look out the window. The sun was now starting to go down, turning the green English country into a dim gray. I could still see lush green pastures but the light was slowly disappearing. In the dark, they still looked vibrant to me but there was something about seeing green in the light that made all the difference. I think the road we were on was called the M5; it was one of the major thoroughfares in the country. According to the driver, it would take at least another hour or so to get to Chairmont. So all I could do was sit back and enjoy the scenery.
“Can you see anything out there?” asked Stella, she was the one next to the window.
I’d been leaning over her so I leaned back when I answered “Nothing but green and cows.”
She took a look. “I can’t see anything.”
“Are you three friends?” said a voice, it belonged to Rachel I think.
I turned to her and put on that fake smile of mine. She was a short, plump girl with freckles. I opened my mouth to answer but Diana beat me to it.
“Of course they’re friends, they’re from the same school,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They all play the cello too. How close are the three of you?”
Rachel looked at Courtney and Charlotte smiling. “Real close.”
“I’m sure it’s the same with them,” said Diana and then she turned to me. “Is your school much different than ours?”
I bit my lip. Why in the hell did she have to ask that now, after all Connor’s mojo was gone? So I bluffed it. “I’m not sure, what’s yours like?”
That got the four of them started. They launched into a description of their school, going on and on about all the places. They talked for twenty minutes, sometimes interrupting one another to say something. I smiled, exchanging looks with my two teammates. They smiled mischievously back at me.
When they were finally finished, Emma answered:
"Yep, pretty much the same.”
After that, the four girls went back into their own world, talking about whatever it is that normal girls talked about. I say normal because the three of us were far from it, of course. Emma and Stella had only been real girls for about three weeks total and me; I was a mess. A real girl maybe but as far from normal as one can get. How many girls do you know hold grudges against killing bastards and have bullets with their names on it. I have the bullet by the way; it’s in my duffel, along with the fake book, laptop and scrambled phone.
“So you want to talk about the dream?” whispered Stella in my ear.
I sighed. “Can this wait until later?”
“No” she said, nodding to Emma. “We need to get this out of the way.”
I nodded. “I was in my house, the one that Trish and I would have lived in, the same one that’s been appearing in the others. I was in my room and there was a knock on the door and Trish told me to get it. I went downstairs and opened the door…” I flushed and looked at Emma. “And Brad was there.”
Emma interrupted. “My brother? What was he doing in your dream?”
I groaned. “Do I really have to answer that?”
Emma opened her mouth but Stella cut her off. “No. So what happened?”
“He asked me to join him and his friends on a trip to the local diner. I was reluctant but Trish forced me to go and when we got to the diner, Dekker was there. I confronted him and I think he shot me.”
“How many times has he killed you now?”
I sighed. “This was the first.”
The last few dreams---the ones before the last two---he’s only appeared and glared at me. There was never any dialogue until the one the other night, the one where I knew I was dreaming. Before that, my dreams were just dreams, with me unaware of the fact that I was even in one. Most of the time Dekker didn’t even appear. He just sort of popped up and stared at me a bit then faded away. Now they were escalating, getting more and more intense. Hell, he actually attacked me in this one. I shuddered at the thought and found myself with my head in Stella’s lap; she began stroking my hair. The other girls looked over at us, concerned. Emma waved them off, saying it was my “time of the month”. I’d have to get her back for that one later.
I stayed that way---my head on Stella’s lap---for the rest of the ride.
I raised my head and looked out the van window. We were stopped now, the other two vans parked ahead of us. I saw one of the other chaperones getting out, talking to one of the drivers. I looked beyond her and at the building. It was enormous, it didn’t look much like a castle in real life but it was sure bigger than I would have expected. It was made of gray stone and had a couple of gables and peaks. It looked like something from one of those old black and white movies; it even had a balcony or two.
Stella piped up. “It’s like a mini-Hogwarts.”
I groaned. I wasn’t a fan. Stella had all seven books back in our room and tried to talk me into reading them but I have other things on my mind. There’s no time for recreational reading in our line of work. Somehow, she found the time. I guess she’s not as busy as I am.
“Girls” said our chaperone, a plump woman with curly red hair; I think her name was Miss Bronson or something like that. “You need to stay in the van while I coordinate with the other chaperones.”
Miss Bronson opened the door, pulling her coat around her and stepped outside. I watched as she walked over to the two vans. The other two chaperones got out, one was Miss Beak Face and the other was a tall, gray haired man. That surprised me. I didn’t get to meet all the chaperones at the airport. It was kind of surprising to see a man working at an all girl’s school but I suppose it happened. He looked like someone who might be a force to reckon with. He was tall, had a square jaw and sharp penetrating eyes. He turned his head and our eyes locked, it was almost as if he was penetrating my brain. I didn’t turn away though. I took up the challenge. After a few seconds, he smiled and turned away on his own.
I looked past him and back toward the Chairmont. The large double doors were now opening and a tall woman was emerging. She walked slowly down the stone steps on three-inch heels. She looked severe, a woman who you didn’t want to mess with. Her hair was held high on her head in a bun and she wore a tweed jacket and skirt. I smiled, this had to the Head Mistress. I searched my memory, Miss Pennington I think her name was.
“Definitely not Professor Dumbledore” said Stella, a bit of sadness in her voice.
The woman walked over to the three chaperones and they started to talk. I cracked the window and listened. The woman introduced herself as Margaret Pennington, so I’d been right about that. The male teacher was Mr. Carter. They were discussing room arrangements. A couple of random girls were dropped and then I heard our names mentioned.
“I have the three new additions placed right near one another,” said Miss Pennington. “I’ve already informed the girls they’ll be sharing rooms with, so everything is all set.”
Miss Bronson nodded. “They’re such good dears.”
After that, they went on to talk about other things, mainly the concert and things like that. I rolled up the window, muffling some of the conversation. I could still hear it but I ignored it. I leaned off Stella; she smiled at me. I could still see what was going on though and after a minute or two, Miss Bronson returned.
She opened the door. “Ok girls. We’re going to walk into the school as a group. We’ve arrived just in time for evening mass and then it’s off to bed with you dears. In the morning there will be breakfast in the Grand Hall and then an assembly for introductions.”
“Maybe it is Hogwarts,” mumbled Stella, I rolled my eyes.
__________________________________
I’m not familiar with Harry Potter in the least but Stella was a fanatic so as we walked down the halls she told me how much this was like Hogwarts and how much it wasn’t. The similarities were staggering in some places. Like the suits of armor, this place actually had several of them lining the hallways. They even had spears and things. Everything else was kind of Old World too, the floors were made of wood, there were tapestries dangling from the walls and ceiling. In the main foyer there was a large wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. When we entered the foyer, we were actually in the main part of the house. Apparently, the school was once the old Chairmont Estate, Lord Henry Chairmont donated it in his will after his death about two hundred years ago. There were two wings, dormitories were in the left and schoolrooms were in the right.
The Great Hall was actually located right behind the main foyer. The Chapel was actually behind the Estate. It was built fifty years ago. We had to walk through a meandering hedge maze and lush garden to get there. I’m not going to bore you with Mass because it was boring. I’m not a religious person, never have been and never will be. God and I weren’t great friends. There were a lot of kids who grew up like me who felt the same way. If there were a God then he wouldn’t have made our parents abandon us or some such. Me, I just never had time for flights of fancy. So even though I was pretending to be the good little Catholic schoolgirl, in reality I was itching to get out of there.
I got my wish two hours later.
Now a small group of us were walking down the hall of the dormitory, being led to our rooms. Stella squealed with delight when it was announced that the school had Houses---just like in the books. She squealed even more so when a girl about our age announced she was a Prefect and that for the duration of our stay we’d be living in Norwood House, attending Sixth form classes. So the girl, Janet Long, was leading us down the hall. Finally, we stopped at a door and she knocked. There was a scramble on the other side and then the door opened.
A bespectacled girl in a nightgown was standing there. Janet turned to Emma. “Emma Jones, you’ll be bunking with Clarice Martin, the two of you Yanks should get along nicely.”
I stared intently at the girl. I tried to see if there was any of Dekker in her. But this girl was short and had red hair. If she was Dekker’s kid, there was very little family resemblance. Emma smiled at the girl, hefted her suitcase, duffel and cello all in one hand. In her other hand she carried a field hockey stick. The other girls in our little group gasped at her strength. I glared at her. She may have been Wonder Woman back home but here she was supposed to be a normal girl. I think she realized what she’d done but it was too late now.
“I work out a lot,” she said sheepishly, trying to save face.
Janet nodded, clearly bored. Emma followed Clarice into the room and the door closed. The room next door was meant for someone else. It went like that door the hall, each of the girls with us being shoved off into other rooms. Mrs. Fine made our room arrangements beforehand. I didn’t know who I was going to bunk with but she made sure the three of us were stuck with American girls. It was to help us cut down on the search or something like that. When Stella went into her room with a girl named Brittany, I smiled. There was a lot of potential there. She was blonde, had the same look of Dekker and even looked a bit snobbish like him. When she saw Stella, she gave her the once over and I think she actually sighed. When Stella went into the room and the door closed, I heard the stuck up girl say, “You’ll do nicely.”
I was the only one left now.
“Here we are” said Janet, giving me the once over. “This is Karen’s room, you Hoodies should get along real well.”
She knocked on the door and a few seconds later, it opened. There was no way the girl standing before was any relation to Dekker. For one thing, she had shoulder length black hair and for another, she looked Japanese. She smiled at me but didn’t even look at Janet. Janet didn’t say anything either. She nodded to me and then walked away. I rolled my eyes.
Karen looked up at me; she had to be no more than five feet. “Wow you’re tall.”
I smiled. Then thought of something. “I get that a lot”
Not really but it was something to help segue into her allowing me into her private sanctuary. Karen didn’t say anything else though. Instead, she took the suitcase from me and half carried, half dragged it into the room. I was surprised by how spacious it was. There were two beds, one on either side of the room. Her side was decorated with punk band posters and lots of crazy color. It looked like the room of someone who’d been here a while. I looked at my bed; there was a folded blanket and a stack of pillows on it. There was nothing on the walls save for a little mirror. There was a desk by the window with a little lamp and a dresser. It reminded me a little bit of my old room in the Syndicate. That brought a little pang to my heart, thinking about how Trish and I painstakingly came up with ways to decorate it.
Karen carried my suitcase over to the bed and dropped it on the floor next to it. I easily carried the duffel and cello into the room. I found a place for the cello in the spacious closet; apparently we both had one. Her’s was jam packed with clothes, including several hooded sweatshirts. I nodded, now I knew why Janet said we’d get along so well. I did a crash course on some British slang before our flight yesterday. Hoodies were what they called people who wore hooded sweatshirts all the time. Apparently Karen and I had that in common. But whereas her’s was probably a fashion statement, mine was meant to keep a lot of that dreaded sun and bright light away.
I started to unpack, first the suitcase then the duffel. I half paid attention to all the clothes that Rebecca Logan was supposed to wear. Karen looked at them though and I’m sure she was thinking the same thing I was: gag me. When I got to unpacking the duffel, she saw the laptop but didn’t say anything. When I took out my phone, she gasped.
“They’re not going to let you keep that,” she said.
I held the phone tightly. “But it’s my lifeline.”
Karen chewed her lip. Unlike the other girls I’d seen, she was the only one not wearing a nightgown. She was dressed in a Sid Vicious t-shirt over a pair of gray bed pants. She looked comfortable; the others looked like they were presenting themselves for inspection.
“I suppose you could hide it, you’re only going to be here for a week, right?”
I nodded. “Well if you don’t tell then I won’t and if you’re quiet, I’ll even let you use it.”
She smiled weakly. “I don’t have anyone to call.”
I stopped unpacking, leaving my fake book lying on the bed. I turned to her, seeing the sadness in her face. There was something about her that felt off. I took a deep breath and asked her if anything was wrong. She shook her head and sat on her bed. I pushed a little and got some of her life story. She was the daughter of the Japanese Ambassador to Great Britain, her father a stoic Japanese man, her mother was American. Her parents apparently meant in college. But neither one of them wanted her around so they shipped her off here. It kind of sucked and I felt pretty bad for her. She then told me how it was to be the only Asian girl here and some of the cold shoulders the other girls gave her. I looked around the room and I came to the conclusion it was a little more than her ethnicity that they shunned her for. She was a rebel and in a place like this, I’m not sure if that was a good thing or not.
We talked for a few hours while I unpacked. She helped. She kept grimacing at my clothes until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“You seem cool Becca,” she said, taking a pale yellow dress from my duffel. “So why do you dress like this.”
I groaned. “I am cool. My mother, not so much. She felt I should dress all prim and proper and not in my usual.”
“Which is?”
I quickly painted a mental picture for her, describing my usual wardrobe. She smiled a lot. Then I told her about my hair and what I was forced to do with it.
She frowned at that.
“That must suck,” she said as we put the last of my heinous clothes away. Her face lit up after that. “We’re taking you guys into town tomorrow after the assembly, maybe you and I can sneak away and do some clothes shopping. There’s a lot of great stores around here.”
I smiled at that.
“I think you and I will become fast friends.”
I could become friends with this girl. Maybe it’d help distract me from Dekker and my one woman mission to put a bullet in his head.
After packing, someone knocked on the door and announced it was lights out. I fake yawned. I wasn’t tired in the least, not after sleeping on the plane. Karen looked exhausted though. She told me about the day they were planning for us tomorrow, which apparently was going to start at six am. I groaned over that one. Then I undressed out of my stuffy schoolgirl uniform and into a pair of gray pajamas. Mrs. Fine tried to get me to pack something more girly but I drew the line there. My pajamas would not be seen by anyone but me and Karen of course. So after putting on my PJs, the two of us got into bed. I lay there for a while, listening as Karen slowly settled into her sleep. About twenty minutes later, I slipped out from underneath the covers and over to the desk. I booted up the laptop, ran it through the program to scramble the signal and then logged into the system. It didn’t take long for me to reroute to the Center servers where a technician there hooked me into the Mobile Command Center.
I smiled when Barry’s face appeared on the screen. He smiled too.
“You look different without all the purple,” he said, yawning.
“Nice to see you too.”
He smiled. “What’s it like there?”
“Hogwartish, according to Stella.”
He smiled at that but didn’t make a comment. Barry wasn’t a fan either, at least not as far as I knew. It was strange because we’d been together for a couple of months and though we were pretty hot and heavy, I didn’t really know all that much about him. I suppose that was ok when we were prisoners together in Section Four but now I figured he’d open up a little more. But every time we were together, we did a lot of making out and very little talking. I liked it a lot at first but lately it’s like the only thing we seem to know how to do. I try talking but he just brushes off most of my questions with one-syllable answers. Just like a typical guy.
“You find any candidates yet?”
“Maybe” I said, “put Kit on.”
He nodded and disappeared from my screen. A few seconds later, Kit’s smiling face appeared. “Hey Sarge, you have a half naked pillow fight yet?”
I rolled my eyes. She was as bad as a guy. I ignored the question. Instead, I filled her in on some of the girls, telling her about Emma’s roommate and then telling her about Britney. “She’s the best candidate so far. She’s tall, blonde and snobbish. She even looks a little bit like him.”
Kit nodded. “What about yours?”
I smiled. “Unless Dekker is the Japanese Ambassador to Great Britain, I don’t think so.”
Kit laughed. “I think you might have noticed that.”
I filled her in on a few other details while Barry apparently did a search on Brittany. It didn’t take long. He handed Kit a piece of paper and she read it quickly before telling me what Barry found out. “According to this, Brittany’s father is a business man, her last name is Smith. Her mother is dead and she’s been living at the school since she was about ten or so. She and her father don’t really see one another much.”
She was sounding more and more like our target. “She might be the one. I’ll have Stella try to get to know her better.”
Kit nodded. “Samson will bug the room tomorrow when you’re at your assembly thing. We’ll try to get one on her as well.”
I nodded. “Where’s Connor?”
Kit groaned. Apparently, she wasn’t a big fan of him either. “We were able to get him into Martin’s School for Boys as well. We put him and Brad down as cousins; the two of them are bunking together. Tomorrow morning when your group goes into town, Connor and Brad will meet you and he’ll do his thing again.”
I shuddered. I was definitely not looking forward to that.
Kit filled me in on her end of things. She was all tapped into the school’s security and their communications. The MCU was disguised as a florist van, parked a couple of blocks from the school. From that position, they’d be able to monitor everything that goes on inside the hallowed halls of Chairmont. She was also trying to see if she could place some small surveillance cameras up in the most used places in the building to keep an eye on things. As part of the op, the Headmistress was the only one who knew we weren’t who we appeared to be. It was a risky move but we needed full cooperation if we were to act. But she still thought we were there to uncover some kind of illegal computer hacking ring. Our cover was as three FBI agents, looking for a supposed link in the school. She tried to deny any involvement with her girls but Mrs. Fine was pretty convincing.
After a few more questions, I ended the conversation with Kit. I shut down and sighed, leaning back in the chair. One of these girls was connected to Dekker and as soon as we found her, I was going to make her tell me about her father through any means necessary. I put the laptop away and went to bed, pulling the bullet from my pocket and staring at it until I drifted off to sleep.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Seven by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's 7...finally. I had a bit of an Internet problem yesterday so it would have been up then. I'd to thank djkauf for the editing and mittfh once again for his English knowledge.
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Chapter Seven:
I woke that morning feeling more tired than I’d ever felt in a really long time. I think it was a combination of jet lag and time zones. Regardless I was barely functioning when I dragged myself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I stumbled out into the hall with the others, trudging to the communal shower room. I groaned when I got into the little locker room, stripped and stuffed my PJs into a cubby hole. Then I got into one of the shower stalls and did my best to clean myself off, hoping the cold shower might help work the sleep from me. It did. I don’t take hot showers in the morning because I like the shock to wake me up. When I got back into the room, Karen was already there, wrapped in a towel.
“Not a morning person, huh” she asked, I only mumbled in response.
I trudged over to my bed, there was clothes already there waiting. Well not clothes in the sense that I would consider them clothes. It was a uniform, a green blazer, white blouse and green skirt. There was also a pair of black shoes and white knee-highs. I turned to Karen and she nodded. I groaned some more. It was bad enough that I had to wear that horrible Catholic schoolgirl outfit but now I was going to have to wear a dreadful Chairmont one.
“They’re kidding, right?”
Karen, still in her towel, picked up a piece of paper from her desk. “According to this, it’s some kind of cultural exchange thing. Your chaperones thought it would be a neat idea, to help you girls feel more at home while you’re here.”
I could sense the joy in her voice. I felt the same way. So without batting an eyelash, I reluctantly finished toweling off and got dressed. I’m not one of those shy, blushing girls who get nervous about being naked around other people. So I had no problem with Karen seeing me in my birthday suit. But apparently, she had a problem with it. She turned around, making sure she was facing the wall while I dressed. I rolled my eyes. She lived in an All Girls school; surely, she’d seen a little flesh here and there. I didn’t tease her even though I wanted to. Instead, I dressed and turned into a Lemming like everyone else.
I turned around and Karen was in her uniform now, sitting on her bed putting on her shoes. She looked up at me and smiled weakly. She had that sad look again. There was definitely something eating away at this girl.
“So what’s on the agenda today?”
She picked up the piece of paper again. “First it’s Roll Call, we go into something called tutor groups for that. I think you’re supposed to stick with me; I’m your Official Buddy or something like that. After Call it’s an Assembly and then breakfast” She took a breath. “After that we board buses and go into town for a bit of sightseeing.”
I nodded. “When do you guys have classes?”
She smiled. “Thanks to you, today is a holiday. Classes will resume tomorrow. You’ll follow the same schedule as I do.”
She said “schedule” the British way, putting on a fake accent. Both of us smiled at that.
After our laugh, the two of us left the room. The other girls were already gathering in the hallway, standing in front of their room doors. I looked down the hall, spotting Stella in green getup standing next to Miss Stuck Up Britney. Further down the hall was Emma with her roommate, I’m not sure if I heard her name or not. There were other girls from the US too; apparently, all of us were shoved into Norwood. The Chairmont girls were standing at attention, like fresh faced soldiers waiting for the Drill Instructor. It didn’t take long for her to arrive. Janet showed up, walking slowly down the hall, a clipboard in hand. She walked slowly past us, commenting here and there. When she got to me, she frowned.
“The hoodie is not a part of the uniform here at Chairmont,” she said in a haughty tone.
“Medical condition” I said with a smirk. “I’m photosensitive.”
“Photo what?”
“She’s sensitive to the light” piped up Karen.
Score one for her. I didn’t think anyone knew what that meant. I turned to her and gave her a nod. Janet’s eyes narrowed at the both of us but I just glared right back. I didn’t have time for a stuck up British bitch giving me a hard time. Apparently, she didn’t have time for me either because she rolled her eyes and moved on. She took her annoyance with me out on a girl a few doors down; apparently, you weren’t allowed to decorate your blazer with anything, especially pins of your favorite boy band.
After Janet finished her walk, she blew a whistle. I kid you not. Then as a group, we followed her down the hall and the stairs. As we congealed together, I slipped next to Stella, our fingers brushing gently. She turned to me and flushed. Her pheromones filled the air, swirling about in an intoxicating cloud of goodness. I bit my lip. Even though they were working on a solution back at the Center, nothing seemed to work for me. The Science Team whipped up a perfume that was supposed to help mask the effects but it only worked on everyone else. For me it was like trying to cover one intoxicating smell with the other. Luckily, it worked on everyone here or else there would be a whole school of girls fondling her.
“How was your night?” she whispered. “Any more nightmares?”
I shook my head. “You turn invisible?”
She shrugged. “Britney didn’t wake up screaming so I think my breathing exercises are working.”
I nodded. Miss Orville was trying to help her overcome her “night invisibility” as we were calling it. She came up with a plain to blend breathing techniques with some yoga. It was supposedly suppose to help her center her mind and relax her body. Dr. Tipps concluded that the only reason Stella was turning invisible at night was that she was too tense during the day. Stella was gorgeous and a lot of the guys were after her. She got no less than five propositions a day, all of which she turned down. It appears that unlike a lot of us---who were bisexual in nature---Stella was one hundred percent homosexual. She only had eyes for the ladies. But no matter how much we tried, we weren’t able to get out of her which one she fancied. I had my theories, as did others but so far no such luck getting her to confirm them.
“Have you talked to her about her family yet?”
Stella shook her head and looked over at Britney who was talking to another girl. I think she was American too and I could cross her off the list as well, unless Dekker liked African American girls in his youth. But knowing the kind of person he was, I don’t think it was all that likely.
“I gave her name to Kit,” I said, turning back to face forward. “She fits the profile but we’ll know more once they can dig more up on her.”
Stella nodded. “She might look stuck up but she’s really nice.”
I nodded. “Karen’s off the list. She doesn’t fit the profile and I haven’t heard back from Emma.”
Stella shook her head. “I talked to her a few minutes ago before we lined up. Her roomie, Clarice, is an only child who lives with her aunt and uncle. Both her parents were killed in a car crash two years ago.”
I nodded. Three down, twelve more to go.
We stopped talking after that and the group headed down the stairs toward the Great Hall for an assembly. Before we got there, the Prefects took a head count. Apparently, this was the roll call Karen was talking about. It must have been kind of frustrating doing a head count on two hundred girls every morning. After that, we went into the Great Hall itself. Stella squealed at my side, making another Harry Potter reference. The Great Hall was a big room, sort like a cafeteria and auditorium rolled into one. We were led over to a table that was especially designated for us while the Chairmont girls sat at the other tables. The Head Mistress and the faculty of the school sat on the stage in chairs, the Head Mistress the only one standing, behind a podium. I’m not going to bore you with the speech.
Then she had Miss Beak Face talk then someone else talked. All in all, it was about an hour before we had breakfast. I don’t think you need to know about that either. There was an uproar of voices while we all ate, it was kind of deafening even more so for someone like me. Stella sat next to me, holding my hand. She knew my pain. In the cafeteria back at the Center, I tried to sit as far away from the noise as possible. It never used to bother me but now with more students there, the noise was starting to become a real problem. Apparently, some of them were on their way to Beta and Gamma sites soon and maybe things could get back to normal.
About ten minutes into the meal, Emma came over and sat in the empty seat on the other side of me. She made sure there was no one in earshot when she asked her question: “What’s next boss?”
I sighed. I hated being called boss just about as much as I hated Sarge. “Once we get into town we’re supposed to rendezvous with Connor. He’ll give us the whammy again and then we’ll be all set until tomorrow morning. Then the three of us are going to play James Bond and get as much information as we possibly can on the other twelve American girls here.”
Emma nodded. “I was wondering when the Stealth in Stealth Infiltration and Reconnaissance was going to come into play.”
Emma wasn’t really here for the stealth part of the team but seeing as she was a girl, she was elected as a stealth operative by default, at least for this mission. I originally envisioned her as the Muscle, someone to have our backs in case things went really bad. She is a powerhouse after all. It’s fair to say that anyone stupid enough to go up against her will end up in the hospital, possibly in a full body cast. I think some part of her knew her place, too. Besides her strength and her rock solid “hide”, she and her brother were skilled Martial artists. Nothing of Ray’s caliber but I sparred with Emma two days after she got at the Center and let me tell you, she’s quite the bad ass. She’s a bit on the unique side of things too, being one of the only people at the Center that I know of who doesn’t need weapons training. After all Emma is the weapon, in more ways than one.
We ate our breakfast in relative silence after that. After about an hour, the Head Mistress got back behind the podium and announced it was time to head to the buses for our ride into town.
___________________________________
Ok so England is messed up. I’m not trying to insult anyone who lives here but the place is completely backwards.
After leaving Chairmont---in several vans and mini-buses---the group of us flocked to a little town nearby. Did you know that they drive on the wrong side of the road here and that the drivers sit in the passenger seat? Ok it’s the driver side seat here and to them they’re not driving on the wrong side but it’s really messed up. Karen was sitting with me in our van, along with Emma and Clarice, the black girl whose name is Monique and another girl from France. Her name is Giselle and her English is surprisingly good with a cute accent---I like French ones. Karen seemed to think it was funny that I was complaining so much and told me she had the exact same problem.
When we arrived in the town, I got another shock. There were no blocks. I can’t even begin to describe how things look other than I’m not really sure how anyone could consider it organized. We filed out of our little van and waited on the pavement---that’s what they call it---for the other groups to file out of their vehicles too. The air is cold here too, colder than back at the Center and for some reason it likes to rain. I could smell it in the air, even if my fellow students couldn’t. After a few minutes of standing around, Stella came over and bumped against me. She looked kind of sad for some reason. She opened her mouth but I cut her off.
“If you make another comment about Harry Potter, I’m going to make sure Mrs. Fine leaves you here when we’re done.”
She closed her mouth and stuck out her tongue. “Where are we supposed to meet the others?”
The others she was referring to were of course the rest of my team. Well not all of them, but the ones that were needed at the moment. I scanned the street, looking for MCU. I found it parked down the block---hey, I’m still calling it that even if it doesn’t look like one. Lingering outside of it was a man in a gray coat and hat. At first, I didn’t recognize him because of the scruffy look but then he raised his head and I saw through Samson’s disguise. He looked about and then over at us. Our eyes locked and he gave a slight nod of his head before opening the door of the van and disappearing into it.
I nudged Stella. “The MCU is over there.”
She looked about and saw the van. “And they have Connor?”
“Let’s find out.”
I stepped away from the group, pretending to wander over to take a look in a storefront window. While Stella stayed behind to distract the others, I reached into the pocket of my hoodie and stuck the earpiece in. I tapped my throat mike---it was disguised as a choker---and cleared my throat: “Eagle calling Nest, are you there Sparrow?”
Last night when I called, I forgot her call sign. Hey, I’m new at this spy thing.
A few seconds later, Kit’s voice came on the line. “Eagle this is Nest, Sparrow speaking.” Then Kit cleared her throat. “You all look really cute in matching green, Sarge.”
I smiled. “If I get to keep it you can have it.”
“Really? That’s so cool.”
I rolled my eyes. Kit was a weird one. “How are things looking?”
Kit became all business.
“Barry’s tapped into the local security feeds and I’ve got communication. Stella bugged Miss Priss this morning and I’ve got Brad heading over to the school right now to get all the rooms.”
I nodded. I frowned a bit too. I was hoping I could get to see him in his school uniform. He was probably really cute looking. I bit my lip and inwardly cursed. I’m not supposed to think he’s cute; I’m with Barry.
“Do we have anything new on Britney?”
Kit sighed. “Her father is pretty clean as far as business goes. His name is Vernon Smith but that could easily be an alias. We don’t have any real good pics on him and we’re having trouble getting any info. on him. We have records going back as far as college but then they disappear. Get this, he and your Mr. Dekker actually went to the same college.”
I smiled. That had to be him; there were too many coincidences. But nothing could be that easy. “Keep looking. I’ll have Stella pump her for information and if need be she can easily snoop about the room whenever we need her too. Just because all the i’s are dotted here it doesn’t mean we’ve got anything definitive. Until she actually confesses to the fact that Dekker is her father then we’ve still got twelve other girls.”
“Six others.”
“What?”
“Six of the other American girls are clean. Two of them have no fathers, three of them have fathers who are too old to fit Dekker and one of them has a very famous father who I’m not at liberty to discuss without breaking National Security.”
Whoa really? I tried to rack my brain as to who it might be but was drawing a blank. Not that it mattered now that she was off the list.
“Who are the other six?”
Kit rattled off some names. Two of the girls were in Norwood with us and were easy enough to check out. The other four were in Potter House. When I heard that name earlier during the assembly, I actually elbowed Stella to keep her from making another reference to a famous British series. But that didn’t stop her from smiling real big.
“Can we get Brad to check their rooms?”
“I’ll see what we can do.”
“Good” I looked over at the vans, most of the girls were out of them now. Everyone was milling about, looking like a vegetable garden as far as the eye could see and I could see far. I sighed. “I have to go. Have Connor ready and as soon as we pass by, he can do his thing.”
“See you in a few, Sarge. Sparrow out.”
I took off the choker---I hated the damn things---and stuck it in my pocket. I did the same with the earpiece then slowly wandered back to the group. No one had noticed I was gone. I slipped up beside Stella, who was now standing with her temporary roomie Britney. The blonde girl gave me a look, it so oozed Dekker that I wanted to grab her and choke the information out of her but instead I smiled and held my hand out to her.
“Becca” I said but she made no move to shake it. What a bitch.
“Stella and I are BFF’s”
I groaned at the use of the term. It sounded like an idiot.
Britney’s eyes narrowed. Then she looked at Stella. “You’re friends with her?”
I bit my lip. God I wanted to punch this girl. I don’t care what Stella said, there was no way she was a nice person. There was no doubt in my mind now; she was definitely Dekker Junior.
Stella came to my defense. “She’s my best friend. We’re roommates in fact, if you’ve got a problem with that…”
Britney lowered her eyes. “I’m good,” she said softly. Then she looked at me and forced a smile.
Before I could respond, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the sea of green. I looked at Stella who just shrugged. I tried to find Britney again but she was gone. Well not gone exactly but everyone looked pretty much the same in their matching uniforms even too my super eyes. I scanned the crowd for her, watching as a lot of the girls turned and looked at me. They started talking amongst themselves. They didn’t whisper because most of them thought they were too far away for me to hear but I did. They were saying stuff about me and the others. Calling us things like “Yanks” and referring to me as a “hoodie” Then one of them called me a “pikey”. I’m not sure if it was bad but one of her fellows gasped and walked away.
I finally gave up looking for Britney. I found Emma though. She and Clarice were standing with a group of girls. I listened to their conversation and sure enough, they were jocks. They were talking about field hockey. Luckily for Emma, she did a bit of studying on the sport on top of the stuff that Connor temporarily put into her head. Most of it was over my head so I didn’t really know what they were talking about. Emma caught my eye and cocked her head. I shook mine then made a gesture toward the MCU. She followed my nod, saw the van, and returned a nod.
Then she turned her head and whispered. “Now?”
I shook my head and held up both my hands, fingers
spread. It was the universal “ten-minute” sign. She nodded. Then went back talking shop with her fellow jocks.
After that, a black car arrived. I think it was what passed for a taxi over here. The car pulled up the curb and a few minutes later, the Head Mistress got out. She looked at our gathered crowd, nodded to a couple of teacher chaperones then wandered over to the group of our chaperones. Apparently, it was the sign that said we were allowed to converge on the town shops. There was no set sightseeing schedule or anything. Karen found me and pointed to a little shop on the corner. I turned to Emma and nodded to her. She smiled then I did the same to Stella. Emma said goodbye to her friends and came wandering over.
“Guys” I said once Emma got there. “This is Karen, my temporary roomie. She’s agreed to show us around a bit.”
The others introduced themselves and the four of us started off. A lot of the other girls were doing the same, wandering off in groups of six or more. Clarice went off with the jocks and I finally caught sight of Britney. She was with Diana and her friends, the group of them chatting like old pals. When we passed, she gave me a look of daggers and I returned the same. There was no doubt in my mind that that girl was related to Dekker. She was so much like him and the resemblance was uncanny. Now I just needed the proof and then I could move on her. I’m not sure what my end game was but I was hoping it involved interrogating the bitch while she was tied to a chair. Ok that’s probably not going to happen but hey, a girl can dream can’t she.
Karen led us to the little shop on the corner she pointed out. It was a corner food market, a Tesco by the sign. She went in, neither of us followed. It was the perfect time for Connor. I looked across the street and gave Samson the signal. HE nodded to me and the back of the van opened. Due to all the girls wandering about still, no one noticed the boy in uniform get out of a florist van and walk slowly across the street. His uniform was blue and his hair was slicked back. He looked as smug as ever. He smiled broadly when he saw all of us.
“Good morning ladies” he said, “love the outfits.”
I glared at him. “Drop the crap.”
His smile faded. “Business first I guess” He said and then turned to Stella. “Pleasure later?”
She scoffed. “Not likely.”
He shrugged then pointed around the corner. I looked about and the three of us followed. We were still in view of the shop so that if Karen came out it was easy to see her. I went first. Connor’s hands were cold. He put them on my forehead and instantly the images started to flood my brain. When he was done, I was woozy. He grabbed my arm, steadying me but I shrugged his hand away. I definitely didn’t need his help. I still wasn’t happy that he was tagging along and was even more pissed at the fact that he was snooping around in my head. I didn’t like the idea of giving a perv like him an all inclusive look at my inner most thoughts. Even though I knew for a fact that he wasn’t a mind reader. It still creeped me out that he somehow went into my head.
After he did his thing with me, he moved onto Emma, probably saving Stella for last. I wandered back around the corner and saw a frantic Karen looking for us. I sighed, hating that I made her worry. I quickly wandered over. “Sorry” I said, huffing. “Stella saw something she thought looked like something from Harry Potter.”
Karen smiled. “There’s a lot of that around here. I mean tourists looking for stuff like that.”
I nodded. I turned and saw the two girls walking around the corner, both of them a little tipsy. It didn’t help that at that particular moment, Connor walked around the corner too. Karen looked from him at the two girls and then back again. He walked by us, sticking his hands in his blazer pockets, then he winked. The three of us ignored him but the color drained from Karen’s face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something irked her.
“You ok?” I asked.
She nodded absently but I could tell by her body language that she was anything but. She was fidgety and she kept looking over her shoulder, watching as Connor slowly disappeared down the street. She tried to do it without us noticing but she failed miserably. When Connor was finally gone, she finally relaxed.
Her body untensed and her color returned.
“I had a bad experience with one of those boys,” she said softly, more to herself than us.
I took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “He was some jerk. He made a couple of passes at us but didn’t get anywhere. I’ve got a boyfriend and those two” I smiled evilly at them, some pay back for them mocking me on the plane. “Those two are an item.”
I saw the look of dread on their faces. It was quick but they recovered quickly. Stella smiled and absently grabbed Emma’s hand. Emma looked like she was going to pound me but I think she remembered their earlier teasing. Her angry look faded and she smiled knowingly. I wagged my eyebrows and smiled. Karen looked at the two of them, as if something dawned on her and she smiled too. After that, everything seemed to be ok. I let go of Karen’s hand and the four of us continued down the street. Karen opened the plastic bag she holding, taking out some sandwiches. Though we’d just eaten breakfast, I was still kinda hungry. Emma was too. Unlike Stella, and me her metabolism was crazy. She could eat like a linebacker and not gain an ounce. It was sorta her penance for being who she was. There were a lot of kids like that at the Center, mainly the kinetics.
Except Stella of course. She ate normally and worked off her need for food with exercise. She was kind of a work out junky now. She said it helped her mind focus and kept her sharp. It also supposedly helped her regulate her heart rate and keep her stress free. Her invisibility seemed to be stress related. Though she could use it when she wanted it often came about without her wanting it when she was under too much stress. So that’s why she ran and did yoga and all that other crap.
After eating, Karen took us everywhere. We hit a lot of shops, going up one side of the street than the other. It didn’t take us long to realize that she was kind of loaded. In every shop we went too, Karen bought something. Soon she was loaded down with bags. I can’t say the same for us. Even though we had a nice line of credit for this mission, none of us were keen on shopping. Partially because we were all still partly guys inside our heads and partly because the Center provided all the clothes we’d ever need. But it didn’t stop us from browsing a bit---yes, even me. There were a few things I might have considered buying, especially a black bikini with skulls on it. Seeing it brought back a pang of memory. Back at the Syndicate, Trish bought me one just like it.
Tears swelled in my eyes and I bit my lip to force them back. I made sure none of the others saw me though.
After a few hours of shopping, Karen dragged us to McDonalds for lunch. Yeah they have those over here, who knew? We weren’t the only ones who had the idea though. As soon as we got our food and found a booth, we were surrounded by a sea of green. I didn’t know any of them but Karen did. She said hi to a few but mostly ignored the rest. I got the idea she was a bit of a loner, kind of like me.
When we sat, Karen looked at me and shook her head. “You should have let me buy you those earrings in TK MAXX.”
I shook my head. “They were too expensive.”
That was another thing. Karen kept trying to buy us clothes and accessories but we kept refusing. It wasn’t that we didn’t want her too but we didn’t want to take advantage of her. I think she was just happy to have some girlfriends to shop with. But we finally relented and let her pay for lunch at least. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
It took us about a half an hour to eat lunch. After that, Karen wanted to hit the shops again. So we offloaded all her bags into the van that brought us then the four of us took another round of the shops. There weren’t a lot in the town but apparently, according to Karen anyway, you could hit them more than once. So that’s what we did. Back in TK MAXX, she was finally able to talk me into allowing her to buy me the earrings. They were cool little skulls. After that she dragged us all into the one store that none of us wanted to go into: a lingerie store she called Marks and Sparks. I don’t think that was the real name though.
Going in there made the three of us new girls really nervous. I wasn’t much for lingerie and neither was Emma or Stella. The two of them kept their heads low, veering away from all the silky femininity as much as possible. Karen seemed to think it was kind of funny though.
She laughed. “You three look like you’ve never been in a lingerie store before.”
Which I think was the truth. I know I’ve never been. I had one little journey while at the Syndicate and it was to a mall. I spent most of my time with Clara, the two of us spending most of that in the arcade. I don’t think I need to rehash what happened there. I went to another mall too with Stella and others, including Brad when we were looking for the missing Emma. Ok not missing, she was actually kidnaped by a nut associated with the Syndicate. I don’t think I need to rehash that adventure either. Suffice to say that most of our time was spent trying to retrace Emma’s steps. Thankfully, none of it led us into lingerie stores. There was a feminine boutique though and that was enough to send chills down my spine.
“Hey Becca over here” said Karen, who was standing near a display of black bras.
I groaned and came wandering over. They were lacy and girly, definitely not me. I was a plain white kind of girl and wore a sports bra if I could get away with it.
“I’m not letting you get me one of those,” I said and she frowned.
“At least try it on” she said, taking one off the rack in my size.
I groaned. It was like being with Mattie. “Fine” I said, snatching it from her.
I walked over to the changing rooms in the back of the store, Emma, Karen and Stella followed. Emma had a nice big grin on her face, enjoying my pain. I didn’t even give her a look as I went into the little booth. I got it over as quick as possible. I pulled my hoodie over my head and slowly unbuttoned my white blouse. It was kind of annoying that girls had the buttons on the wrong side. After that, I dropped the blouse on the floor and quickly undid my bra, allowing my puppies to bob loose and breathe. I looked down at them and smiled. I was proud of their size; I think it was the only thing I really enjoyed about them. Most girls probably would have complained about them being so small---34B---but I liked them. I couldn’t imagine having giant ones, like Stella’s. I don’t think they were D’s but they were pretty close. I’m not sure how she ran with those things jiggling like that. Emma had nice size ones too. Not as big as Stella’s but a bit bigger than mine. Hey I’ve seen her topless, the lot of us shower together on occasion.
“You done yet” whined Karen from the other side of the door.
“Almost.”
I dropped my bra on the floor and put on the black one. It held me quite nicely and I have to admit it did work well for me. It didn’t feel strange at all on over the Second Skin either. Sometimes it bothered me and pinched but this one fit like a glove. I clasped it, turned to look in the mirror, and had to admit that maybe Karen was right. I turned this way and that, smiling a little more than I should have been. Today was a good day for me. There were no dreams last night and this was the first time in a long time that I hadn’t been so angry. Maybe this is what I needed, a little vacation. Ok so technically it was a mission but it felt good to get out of the Center again and stretch.
I took a deep breath and walked out of the booth. Karen smiled.
“See, I told you it would look perfect on you.”
I nodded. “Ok, I think I can let you buy it for me.”
We all had a laugh at that. I turned to walk back into the booth when something caught my eye. Well not, something, someone actually. It was a guy, tall and blonde. I thought it weird that there would be a guy in a lingerie shop but maybe he was buying something for his girlfriend. He was almost to the door when he turned and looked at me. I would have covered up except my heart skipped a beat. I stood there frozen as I stared at him. When my heart started beating again and I could breath, I gasped. It was him; it was the bane of my existence.
Quentin Dekker.
He looked right at me and then smirked. He raised his hand in a wave, showing me a smug smile and then walked briskly out the door.
“Son of a bitch” I said and quickly went after him. I didn’t run because I didn’t want him to know I was following but I walked at a brisk pace. I pushed my way through the store and didn’t even pause at the door when I pushed it open. I heard the woman behind the counter yell at me and an alarm went off but I didn’t care. When I got out into the street, it didn’t even occur to me I was only wearing a bra and an ugly green skirt. All I cared about was Dekker.
The bastard had a huge head start. How was that possible? He just walked out of the store.
I grit my teeth and took off after him in a run. There were a lot of people on the street, all of them wanting to get in my way. I pushed through them though, shoving some of them aside in fact. But no matter how hard I ran, Dekker seemed to be well ahead of me. How in the hell was he doing it? I put on the speed, not bothering to notice the gasps from people I passed. I heard someone blow a whistle behind me and there was the sound of rapid footfall but I ignored it. Dekker was all I cared about. The faster I ran though, the further he got from me. It wasn’t possible; I should have been on him by now.
Finally, he turned a corner and I smiled. There was no way I was going to let him get away. I put on the speed. I’ve got you now you son of a bitch. I could see that he walked right into a dead-end, it was so obvious. I was laughing like a mad woman as I ran, pissed that I didn’t have Reta. But it didn’t matter; I’d beat him to death. When I finally got to the corner and around it, I slid to a halt. My feet gave out underneath me and I fell, landing in the filth. I screamed at the top of my lungs. The dead end was vacant; there was no one there. How could that be? I looked here and there. There was only one door. I jumped to my feet and ran to it, tugging on it but it was locked.
I cursed. He was here. There was no way he could have gotten away.
Someone shouted, “Becca”.
The running caught up with me. First, it was Stella then Emma. I turned to them, tears in my eyes. Then I collapsed to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
Stella took me into her arms as Karen and a police officer arrived. “He was here,” I sobbed, burying my head in her chest. “I saw him.”
“Who was here, Miss?”
I didn’t answer him as Stella put her blazer around my shoulders and helped me to my feet.
Instead, I looked at Emma. “I’m not crazy, Em. He was here; it was Dekker. I’m sure of it and then he, then he got away.”
Emma nodded. “”Let’s get you back to the store and we’ll sort things out.”
I nodded. I wasn’t crazy. They were all looking at me like I was crazy. But I wasn’t. It was him, Trish. It was him and I let him get away.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Eight by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Ch. 8. I was able to write this and seven at the same time the other day because I had a lot of free time on my hands. Any other chapter might be a bit delayed because I'm going to be pretty busy the rest of the week but I'll try my hardest to get nine up before the week is out. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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Chapter Eight:
“You going to be ok?” asked Stella as she handed me a glass of water.
I only grumbled my thanks. The two of us were sitting in an empty classroom, waiting for the Head Mistress. It’s not every day that you get called into a meeting because you were arrested for running like a lunatic through the streets of a quaint English town in your bra. Ok, in hindsight I probably should have put a shirt on before I ran out the door but I was so certain it was Dekker. I groaned and took a sip of the water, it was ice cold but I didn’t care. Stella was sitting next to me, smiling. I think she was trying to reassure me that everything was going to be all right but I knew better. I think I’m losing my mind. I was so certain it was Dekker. He was there, I saw him.
I groaned and took another sip. After my streaking incident, the officer took me down to the station. He filed a report and the four of us---me, Stella, Emma and Karen---had to wait for a chaperone to pick us up. There was a lot of confusion on the part of the police. Stella made up a quick lie to explain things. Apparently, I had a teacher from my old school who was obsessed with me and stalked me. I got a restraining order and changed schools. Then I thought I saw him in the lingerie store and decided to chase him down. It was a pretty good lie and luckily, we didn’t have Lola with us to ruin things. Seeing as I was so distraught at the time, crying and everything, it was a believable one too.
But that didn’t stop them from filing a report or get me off the hook. I was now on academic probation if you could believe that. I wasn’t even a member of their school and the Head Mistress was coming down on me hard. Apparently, she does that when someone embarrasses her school like that. I was wearing half the Chairmont uniform after all. As soon as the chaperone picked us up from the police station, we were escorted back to the school, not able to finish our town visit. When the others got back to school a few hours later, everyone was already talking about it. I apparently was big news. They were already spreading the craziest rumors too, most of them absolutely ridiculous. I was everything from a Serial Streaker to a Serial murderer.
“Do you think it was still him?” asked Stella in a soft voice.
I know she was trying to give me the benefit of the doubt. I sighed. “It sure looked like him. But once I got around that corner, he was gone. I don’t know how to describe him.”
Stella nodded. “We didn’t see anything,” she said softly. “One minute you were there, laughing with us and the next you freaked. We tried to run after you but the woman in the store stopped us. Karen had to pay for your bra even before we were allowed to leave. Then as soon as we got out the door, the cop was there.”
I nodded. “Thanks for all the help. If Karen is still talking to me after this, I’m going to have to make it up to her.”
Stella smiled. “I think she might be in love with you.”
That threw me. “What?”
Stella nodded. “She definitely idolizes you. The whole time we were at the police station, waiting for them to finish questioning you. She kept going on and on about how cool you were how she was the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her roommate.”
I sighed. That’s all I needed. What did the Japanese call them, oh yeah otakus. I had my very own fan girl now.
Stella was about to say more but didn’t get a chance because the room door opened. We both turned and looked and in walked the head Mistress, Miss Pennington. She wasn’t alone though. With her was a tall man in a gray suit. He had black hair that was going gray on the sides and a pencil thin mustache. He was holding a large manila envelope in his hand. He looked at the two of us but his eyes lingered on me for the longest time. Miss Pennington walked over to the teacher’s desk and sat down. She looked at the two of us and frowned. Then she looked at me and shook her head.
“When I agreed to allow the three of you to come to my school, Miss Logan,” she said, not knowing my real name. “I was told that you would do things low key and that you would do nothing to draw attention to yourselves or to embarrass my school.”
“Embarrassing the school was not my intention.”
She held up her hand. “I know it wasn’t your intention but you did so nonetheless.” She sighed. “I am to believe that the man you supposedly chased through the streets was someone of interest in your investigation.” I nodded, she sighed. “Be that as it may I have contacted your superior and have asked her to remove the three of you from my establishment.”
I was outraged. I jumped to my feet, clinching my fists. “You can’t do that. You can’t interfere with this investigation it’s too important to me…to us. If you try to stop this so help me God I’ll…”
I stopped myself. I was acting like a crazy woman again. I sighed and dropped back down into my seat. Miss Pennington gave me a look. I think it was supposed to scare me but considering all the scary people I’ve been up against it was pathetic. I shot her a look of my own. I didn’t think she was intimidated and I didn’t care. If this bitch tried to put a stop this, I’d bury her.
Miss Pennington continued as if my outburst never happened. “I have contacted your superiors and they have denied my request. They believe that this incident of yours was brought on by stress and lack of sleep and I am inclined to agree. The police have several witnesses, including your three companions and there is no evidence that the man you were chasing was even there.”
I looked at Stella and she mouthed “sorry.” I smiled weakly at her. I couldn’t be mad at her, she was just telling it as it is. After I calmed down earlier, I realized that Dekker wasn’t there. I’m not sure why I saw him but it drove me nuts that I did. I’m not sure what came over me. All I knew was that I needed to get to Dekker and kill him. I wasn’t thinking straight and I was reckless. I groaned. I could just hear Mrs. Fine now, berating me for this major goof up.
“I know he wasn’t real,” I finally admitted.
Miss Pennington smiled. “You are to see the school counselor as soon as this meeting is over. Your Mrs. Fine tells me you’ve not been sleeping well for a while and that you’re suffering from nightmares. In order to stay in my institution, you are required to speak to Miss Drake and maybe the two of you can get to the bottom of these problems of yours.”
I nodded but inwardly I was screaming. Not another freaking shrink. What the hell was wrong with these people? I didn’t need a shrink.
Miss Pennington got up from the desk and walked over to the man who up to this point was standing like a soldier, silent and creepy.
“This gentleman is Inspector Munroe from MI5. He would like to ask you a few questions.”
She smiled at me and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, Munroe walked over to the desk and sat on the edge of it. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, staring at the two of us. I think he was sizing us up, much like the two of us were sizing him up. When he spoke, there was no emotion in his voice. “You and your team inserting into my country was not a wise thing to do without proper procedure. I should have all of you deported for this incident.”
I bit my lip. Fat chance of that happening. Stella put a hand on my shoulder, cautioning me. I took a deep breath and spoke. “I wasn’t informed that this was an illegal op.”
Munroe stared at me. “Not illegal, unsanctioned. You were well under the radar, Miss Howe, until you pulled that little stunt this afternoon. It’s a good thing no one was hurt. All we need is an international incident on our hands.”
My little stunt? It’s not like I was firing my gun into the ground. I was chasing a supposed nut job through the streets. In the end, I was the only nut job but it was hardly anything dangerous. “I don’t see where I caused a problem, sir?”
This time Munroe smiled. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Miss Howe. I know all about your mission. I had a nice long chat with your Colonel Harris and your Mrs. Fine. You may have fooled Pennington with your cover story but I know the truth. There are a select few in world governments that know of your kind. It’s not a very large circle but it is growing larger by the day. You may not have thought you were a danger but I know better. I’ve seen the videos; I know what your kind are capable of doing. “
“Our kind? You make us sound like we’re inhuman or something.”
Munroe smirked. “Isn’t that what you are?”
I wanted to tell the guy to fuck off. But Stella beat me to it. Ok so she didn’t swear at him. She smiled sweetly. “There are some of us out there that are dangerous, Inspector. But we’re not them. The place we live and work for, we’re trying to protect people.”
Munroe snorted. “All the while hiding behind that American flag of yours.”
That pissed me off. “We’re not hiding behind anything. We’re not here to harm you or your people. We’re looking for a lead on a criminal, one criminal, an American criminal. It is vital to the national security of our nation and yours that we find this criminal and bring him to justice.”
Munroe snorted again and threw the envelope on my desk. “He’s not here. I ran a check on your Quentin Dekker. He’s quite the well connected man. Your FBI has had him flagged on the no fly list for weeks. If he showed up in this country, my people would have caught him by now. Interpol is looking too and they’ve got nothing as well. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the Earth. So whoever you claimed to have seen was not Quentin Dekker. That little stunt of yours this afternoon was reckless and foolhardy. People could have been hurt, it’s a good thing you weren’t armed. If you had been we’d be having this conversation in a jail cell and not a class room.”
I didn’t even look at his envelope. Instead, I asked the question I really wanted to know. “Can we still run our op?”
He smirked. “I don’t have the authority to shut you down.” I nodded. But he wasn’t done. “But just because I don’t have the authority that doesn’t mean you won’t be monitored. You have forty-eight hours. If you don’t find what you’re looking for by then I will blow this thing wide open and ruin everything that you and your team have worked so hard to cover up.”
Forty-eight hours? I groaned, what a prick?
“That’s not going to be enough…”
Stella cut me off. “We can do it in that time. Thank you for being so lenient with us, Inspector.”
She flashed him a big smile, really putting on the charm. It didn’t work of course. He grunted, snatched the envelope out of my hand and stormed out of the room.
“You can’t be serious Stel,” I said, moaning.
She smiled. “Of course I’m not but he needed to hear that. That guy was a dick; I wanted to punch him in the face. He was just trying to pee all over us, show us who’s top dog around here. He doesn’t have any real authority; he was just blowing smoke.
I smiled at her. “You’re the best Stel. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”
She leaned over and gave me a hug. “Don’t say that too loud, Mattie might here then we’re both in trouble.”
We laughed at that. Mattie is and always be my best friend. But Stella and I were close too, closer than close thanks to our bonding. Dr. Tipps said we were like sisters now and I could see that. She felt like a sister, like someone I could cry to when things got really bad.
____________________________________
“Are you secure?” asked Kit.
I looked around the room. I was in my temporary dorm; Karen was down in the common room with the other girls. Everyone went there after dinner, probably to gossip more about the crazy streaking American girl. I don’t care. All I care about is finding Dekker and making him pay. I know, I’m Broken Record girl but I’ve had some time to think since this afternoon. After leaving the empty classroom, Stella went one way and I the other. I had to report immediately to the school’s counselor, Miss Drake. She was a kind person, with a big smile and a happy disposition. But just like Dr. Tipps, I didn’t want to open up to her. There was just something about her that rubbed me the wrong way. Besides, I wasn’t really in the sharing mood. But the best part, she wasn’t Tipps so she didn’t know me.
So I laid it on real thick. I used that fake cover story Stella concocted for the police. I put on the water works and everything. By the end of our session, she was hugging me and crying right along. Adults are such saps, especially ones with degrees. She told me if I needed time to myself that while I was here I could forego any classes for the whole week. How sweet was that? Unfortunately, I knew Mrs. Fine would chew me out for that. So I reluctantly told her I was fine and that maybe a few hours rest might do me some good. So she had me excused from dinner so I could go to my room.
The first thing I did was report in to Kit. She was indifferent about my arrest and actually had a few jokes. I took them in good spirit. Then she said the Boss Lady called. Mrs. Fine wanted me to report in as soon as possible to give her the rundown. I knew what that meant though. It was her chance to bust my balls---figuratively of course. So after dinner---which I skipped---I waited until Karen slipped off for a movie. They were watching, you guessed it, the new Harry Potter movie. I wonder whose suggestion that was.
“I’m good to go,” I said to the Specialist on my laptop screen.
It didn’t take long for Kit’s image to disappear and to be replaced by that of Mrs. Fine. She was scowling, that woman never smiled. I did though; it was a small one, an attempt to lighten the mood. I don’t think it worked.
“What a fine mess you’ve made, Rebecca.”
I groaned. I was in serious trouble if she was using the full name. “Any mess made is mine and mine alone, ma’am.”
There was no way I was going to allow her to penalize the others for this.
She nodded. “I’ve read Specialist Rodriguez’ debrief and yours as well.”
I typed mine up as soon as I got back to the room---during dinner---and sent it along through Kit.
Mrs. Fine sighed. “Is there any proof that you actually encountered Dekker?”
I wasn’t expecting that question. I figured she was going to be like the others and say I was imagining him, too. After all, I was the only one who apparently saw him. But she was right in a way, asking me the way she did. I had no proof, so I shook my head. “I don’t think I imagined him though.”
“It’s hard to believe otherwise with the evidence against your claim.”
I nodded. But I had some time to think about it actually. At first I was convinced that he was a figment of my imagination too. Then I remembered he was a few feet ahead of me. It was plenty of time to get away. There was after all, a door there. It was locked when I got there but that didn’t mean it was when he got there. Maybe he opened it with a key and locked it from the inside. It was a possibility, right? So I shared my theory with Mrs. Fine, she listened intently. Then she started to type on her keyboard, she spoke to someone off screen. She looked haggard, like she’d been overworked.
“Is something wrong ma’am?”
She sighed. “We’ve had a situation here. I don’t want to say too much, even over this secure connection. But that thing you and I were talking about, the one we have feared. I believe it might have come true.”
The thing, what thing? I wracked my brain trying to remember. Then it came to me. Oh God, she was talking about the traitor. “You can’t be serious?”
“I’m afraid so. We have a team investigating right now and a possible lead. That’s all I can say right now at the moment but I’ll keep you apprised of the situation.”
I nodded. “Will it affect my mission?”
She shook her head. “Not sure at the moment. As soon as I get pertinent information I’ll pass it along.”
I nodded. Then someone stepped up behind her. I didn’t see who it was but they handed her something. She looked at it and nodded. Then she turned back to the screen. “We just checked out that dead end of yours. “You’re right, there is something there. That door is the back entrance to a popular nightclub, the Hellcat. Intel is a little rusty but we believe there might to be a small apartment above it.”
I was just grasping at straws but this might actually work. I couldn’t believe it.
Mrs. Fine sighed. “Rebecca, when you decide to sneak into the place for a look, I think it might be wise to take some back up. Maybe someone who can walk through walls.”
I smiled and flushed. “Will do, ma’am.”
Mrs. Fine nodded. “That will be all for now, Sergeant. After you’re done with your recon, I want a full report. There’s something going on here, something that doesn’t quite fit with the pieces being laid out before us.”
I nodded.”I’ll make sure we have better pieces.”
Mrs. Fine didn’t say anything more before her face disappeared from the screen to be replaced by Kit’s smiling one. “So are we going to the club tonight?’ she asked.
I sighed. It must have been fun to be paid to eavesdrop. “Not yet. I want to do some recon on the place first to make sure it’s worth our time. Can you contact Brad for me and see if he can sneak out tonight.”
Kit smiled and I blushed. She didn’t say anything other than “will do, Sarge” before her face disappeared as well. It was replaced for a second by Barry. I opened my mouth to say something but he clicked off before I could. I sighed. What the hell was that all about? Ever since we shipped out, the two of us have been like complete strangers. When I called Kit earlier and sent her my debrief, he barely spoke two words to me. Now he was completely ignoring me. Was he pissed that he was stuck in the van during the whole op? I mean what a way to tell someone but the silent treatment was kind of childish.
_______________________________
I stood on the curb, shivering in my thin hoodie, waiting for my ride. The large stone building of Chairmont stood behind me, looming like a gray ghost in the night. Its stone spires were like sentinels, staring down and keeping a watchful eye on me. I tried not to look, I already felt bad enough as it is. It didn’t bother me about sneaking out, that was actually kind of fun. It was lying to my friends.
Everyone thought I was up in my room, sleeping it off. But in truth, I stuffed some clothes underneath my blanket and went out the window. An old building like this had ivy clinging to the walls and lots of old stones jutting out for handholds. I was glad that I took the time to allow myself some rock wall training. It helped a lot on the wall, scaling it without the use of a rope.
Gideon would have been proud. I shivered. English nights were cold, too cold. Though I didn’t feel most of it, some of it did get through. It was a dull ache, throbbing into me. I hated this feeling; it made me feel as if I wasn’t in control. Lately it was all about control with me. I controlled the outcomes of my fights by knowing when the punch was going to come by hearing it and I controlled the outcome of my pain by suppressing it. In some respects, I even controlled the outcome of my own actions, too. Ok that one was stretching a bit but I sure felt like I did. The cold was one thing I couldn’t control though and I didn’t like that. The only other thing as bad as the cold was Barry. I tried calling him back to talk but he was standoffish at best. He barely paid attention to me, more interested in whatever minimal task that Kit assigned him to do. I was the only one in our group that out ranked Kit and Samson. I thought about asking for a commission for Barry but then I thought about his non-leadership qualities. He definitely wasn’t the guy who should be in charge.
Hell, I shouldn’t have been in charge either. But I guess Kris and the Colonel saw something in me that they didn’t see in others.
The beeping of a horn drew my attention away from my thoughts. A black car was pulling up to the curb, the driver got out on the wrong side again. I’m never going to get used to that. He looked at me, grinning a toothless grin.
“You the one I’m supposed to get, ducky.”
I nodded. “My friend?”
“We’ll get im next.”
He walked around and opened the back door for me. I smiled and climbed inside. He shut the door gently and got back into the car. I just about buckled my seat belt before he took off like a rocket. I was thrown back into the seat, a bit jarred. Who the hell taught this guy to drive, Mario Andretti? I groaned as we lurched around the big circular path in front of the school and headed down the road toward the M5. Chairmont was sort of built into a forested area, away from everything else. It was real pretty especially at night. With all the lights twinkling in the rooms and from the two spires on either end of the building, it looked like a medieval castle.
“You don’t sound like one of em green skirts.”
I smiled. “I’m from Detroit.”
“Ah a Yank, huh. Don’t get too many of you around ere, love.”
“I’m here for a concert.”
There was no point in lying to him. So I gave him the fake life that Mrs. Fine set up for us. He talked my ear off so it was worth it. As soon as we got on M5 and started zipping down the road, he wanted to know everything about me. I tried my best to remember, my Connor thing having worn off about an hour ago. I was still a little woozy from that fading. It only made you dizzy when it came and when it left. It was hard for us but I wondered what Connor must feel. Not that I’m feeling sorry for him but he must have a head full of crap. I can’t imagine he’s ever going to use any of it. But it makes me wonder how much stuff he’s got rattling around in there?
After about twenty minutes, the cab left the M5.
St. Bernard’s School for Boys was just really down the street from Chairmont. Unlike Chairmont though, it looked like a school. It was a gray block of a building; it was even surrounded by a ten-foot tall chain link fence. It was kind of depressing to look at, more like a prison then a school. I got out of the cab and told the driver to wait while I went to get my friend. He smiled and winked, I rolled my eyes. I put in my earpiece and tapped my choker throat mike. Brad was supposed to meet me at the tree on the outskirts of the school grounds, just outside the fence. I found the tree but Brad was nowhere in sight.
“Eagle calling Owl, do you copy, over?”
Ever since Mrs. Fine said they were having a problem at the Center, possibly a traitor in their midst, I was hell bent to stick with formality now and just use the code names. It was kind of corny but it did make me feel more like a spy.
I tried raising him again but there was no response. I panicked a bit and walked toward the tree. I started to look around it, worried that something might have happened to him. It wasn’t like Brad to get caught; he could after all walk through walls. I looked all around the tree, including up into it but he was nowhere. I sighed and fell against it, huffing. As soon as I did so, a hand landed on my shoulder. I stifled a scream and snapped around. A human shape came out of the tree, tall and blonde. I could of kicked his ass but instead I couldn’t help but smile. Brad started laughing as he stepped all the way out of the foreboding oak.
“You should have seen your face,” he said through his laughter.
I smacked him in the arm. “You almost got shot.”
His eyes drifted down to my belt. No Reta wasn’t there. She actually was still back in my room but I had something much better. Kit sent a care package along for me, concealing it in the bushes. After climbing down the wall, I went and retrieved. It was a little plastic case, inside was a single P Gun and six darts. If you’re not familiar with what my little friend does let’s just say it involves a deadly toxin that comes from a place that you don’t want to know.
I’ll give you a hint, there’s a reason we call them “pee” guns. You can eww now.
I tapped my holster, turning my thigh so he could see the gun.
“Is that what I think it is?”
I nodded and he grimaced. “How many of those did you bring?”
I knew what he was thinking and the answer was definitely no. He wasn’t ready for a gun yet. He’d only had minor small arms training. Most of his powers training dealt with how permeable he could get himself by testing what kinds of things he could pass through. Apparently, the only thing that seemed to really slow him down was solid steel. So as long as the nightclub walls were made of concrete or granite than the two of us were good to go.
“You’re not getting a gun,” I said finally, looking him straight in the eye or trying to at least, he was taller than me. “You’re not ready.”
As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t ready either. But after you have it thrust upon you there’s really no choice in the matter.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he followed me to the car. The driver made a comment about the way he looked and his size but neither of us said anything. Brad was getting his game face on apparently. We got into the back and let the cabbie speed us toward the town. We both sat with the middle open, staring out the window. I kept casting glances at him when I thought he wasn’t looking. I caught him doing the same out of the corner of my eye. Every part of me wanted to reach over and take his hand but I didn’t. I kept telling myself over and over again that I was with Barry and he was a big complication. But every time I thought it, I kept seeing the kiss over and over again in my head. I actually found myself licking my lips and when I closed my eyes, it was Brad’s face I saw instead of Dekker’s. I’m not sure if that brought me comfort or more misery.
After about another twenty minutes on the road, we were finally pulling into the town. It looked different in the dark, especially without a bunch of green clad girls running around. I found it hard to believe that that was only five or six hours ago. Ok more like eight but who’s counting. The point was that the officer who arrested me told me he didn’t want to see me around again, at least the whole time I was in the country. I’m not sure if that was a warning or a chance to save what little pride and dignity he had left. It’s not every day that a nearly topless girl goes running down the street you’re patrolling. Even after I gave him my statement, I think he still thought it was some kind of practical joke.
The driver stopped the car in front of Tesco’s. He turned around and held out a business card. “We have to be called ahead of time for rides. When you two luver birds are done, you give me a call, all right?”
I nodded and took the card while Brad opened the door. He ran around to my side before I got a chance. He opened the door and I melted a bit inside. No guy’s ever opened a door for me. When I was a guy, I was lucky to even think about looking at a door when there was a girl nearby. I can honestly say that I was a bit of an idiot when it came to women. But Richard was always a bit of an idiot. Yeah that’s right; I referred to my old self as a different person. It was something we concocted at the Syndicate to help us adjust better to our new lives. I sighed. Thinking of that place brought back a lot of bad memories.
“So” said Brad as he pulled his coat closed. “Where’s this club?”
“This way.”
I led the way as the cabbie drove off. I stuck his card in the pocket of my hoodie. I didn’t really need it now because it was dark but it was the only coat I had, besides the two school blazers. There was no way I was going to walk around after hours in one of those, though. In fact, my entire wardrobe was improvised. While the others were in the Common Room, I snuck into Stella’s room and borrowed a skirt and tank top from her. They weren’t really my style but they were better than the clothes that Mrs. Fine was trying to put me into. Never again am I letting her decide what I’m going to wear. She has absolutely no fashion sense whatsoever.
“Kit told me what happened today,” said Brad as the two of us walked along. We were pretty much the only ones on the street. “She said that you saw Dekker and chased him into a dead end alley.”
I sighed. I knew what he was trying to do and frankly, it wasn’t going to work. “Did she tell you how when I got into the dead end that Dekker seemed to have miraculously disappeared?”
He nodded. “But he went into the nightclub right?”
I smiled. He was so sweet but he believes that about as much as I did. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”
We finally got to the dead end and I pointed out the door to him. He rubbed his hands together and reached for the knob. He was all set to do his thing when I heard something. I snapped around, pulling the P Gun from its holster. I scanned the dark. Because I was on my own, I didn’t need to hide my eyes behind the contacts. They shone bright purple, cutting my gaze through the darkness. I found what caused the noise. There was someone at the end of the alley, staring at us. She was a girl about our age with bright blue hair and an improvised Goth wardrobe. There were a lot of piercing all over her face and several in her ears. She looked like my kind of person, all except for the lurking of course.
I lowered my gun and motioned Brad away from the door. “Who are you?” I called in a threatening tone.
“Oy” she said, not bothering to move from her spot. “You can’t get in there until tomorrow night. They’ve got that place locked up tighter than a drum.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She smiled; I saw the flash of her tongue piercing. I shuddered. “You can call me Jasmine if you want.”
I nodded. “Do you frequent this club a lot?”
She smirked. “What do you think?”
Brad stepped forward. “We’re looking for someone. He would have gone through this door earlier today. Tall, blonde hair, walks with a cane.”
Jasmine sighed. “I know ‘im. He comes and goes as he pleases. He’s not home now though.”
“We’re not friends of his.”
Her smile got bigger. “Then you really want to come back tomorrow night. When the club is kicking, he bails. If you want to do some snooping I suggest you do it then.”
I nodded. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear but what choice did we have. She was probably going to stand there all night staring at us. There was no way that we could walk through the wall with her constantly watching us. So I sighed and nodded to Brad, telling him mission over. He slumped his shoulders. I think he was kind of looking forward to doing something on this mission. I was too, in fact. So far, it’d been nothing but sitting around and being bored. Well besides my little streaking incident earlier today that is.
“You’re sure he won’t be here tomorrow?”
“The guy’s got a major stick up his ass. He’ll definitely be gone tomorrow. You can do all the snooping you want and the best part, no one’s going to pop in on you if you’re in the club already.”
She flashed us that smile again. I smiled back. She had a point.
Brad walked over and put a protective arm around me. I think he thought she was some kind of mugger or something. Fortunately, I could take care of myself but I didn’t protest. I kind of liked having his arm around my waist, Barry be damned. He’s been an ass lately so he can miss out on the better things in life. I leaned into Brad, putting my head on his chest and the two of us slowly walked past the girl, back in the direction we came from.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Nine by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Ch. 9. I kind of had a busy week what with moving my grandfather into his new apartment and all. But now I'm back on track...at least for the time being. We finally get to see a little nightclub in this one. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and everyone who had a hand in helping me hammer this one out, you know who you are.
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Chapter Nine:
“Becca” said a voice as someone shook me. “Wake up or you’re going to be late for class and trust me, you don’t want that.”
I opened my eyes a bit, ready to yell at Stella for bothering me so early. But it wasn’t Stella who was shaking me. I opened my eyes further and saw Karen standing over me, already in her dreadful green uniform. I groaned. It took me a few seconds to process where I was. Then I closed my eyes and rolled away from her. I didn’t even need to look at the clock to know how early it was. I could feel the sun on my skin as it seeped through the open curtains. There were a lot of advantages for me as far as the Second Skin was concerned but there were some disadvantages too. One of the biggest ones was the tingling. It didn’t bother me so much if most of my body was covered. But when it was in the direct sun, the suit kind of tingled a bit. It usually only happened in the morning and always when I was trying to sleep.
Karen shook me again. “You can’t sleep in like this; if Janet catches you there will be hell to pay.”
I scoffed, not bothering to turn around. “I can handle her.”
Karen sighed. “That I don’t doubt but they have a rule here. If you get in trouble, I do.”
That caused me to open my eyes. I turned around and pushed myself up onto my elbows. This bed was too lumpy for me; I missed the one back home. Yes, I referred to the Center home; I never had a real one so it’s the closest to one I’ve ever had.
“What are you talking about?”
Karen sat on the end of my bed, making sure to fold her skirt underneath her as she did so. She smiled weakly. “You and your roommate are responsible for one another. If one of you misbehaves then it’s seen as a demerit to the other. Something to do with not watching each other.”
That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. I sighed and bit my lip. “You didn’t get in trouble yesterday did you?”
She shook her head. “You were new, you didn’t know the rules. But if you do something stupid today, I will.”
What the hell was with this place?
I sighed and threw off my blanket. Karen smiled. She jumped off my bed and walked over to her own, turning her back on me again. I rolled my eyes. She lived in a girl’s school; surely, she’d seen the others undress. But her prudish behavior was the least of my worries at the moment. I looked at the clock and saw that I only had about ten minutes to get dressed before breakfast. I sighed. I guess that means I’m skipping a shower. I pulled off my bedclothes quickly enough and put on some underwear. The only good thing about wearing a uniform was not going through the hassle of finding something to wear every day. I walked over to my closet and found it hanging there. Apparently, all of the girls only had two or three uniforms. The dirty one was to be hung outside your door every night and someone would come by and collect it to wash. With all of us visiting girls, they only gave us one uniform apiece. So we were meant to hang it outside our door every night we were here. Last night I forgot but someone must have because here it was hanging in my closet, all nice and clean.
I dressed quickly enough. “I’m decent.”
Karen turned around. “C’mon, we’re going to be late for tutor group.”
I didn’t even get a chance to say ok as she grabbed my arm and pulled me out into the hall. The line-up of girls from yesterday was gone. The hall was empty as Karen pulled me down it. I struggled to keep up because I was still putting on my stupid shoes. I guess they were better than the heels they made us wear at the Center. But I still missed my boots.
Unlike yesterday morning, this morning we actually went to a classroom for our roll call. There were about thirty or so of us, the others all sitting at little wooden desks when we entered. We slipped in when the teacher’s back was to us. We found some seats in the back so when she turned around, she didn’t even notice we weren’t there before. I didn’t go to school much when I was Rick. I mean I had school but it never really agreed with me. I’m a bright student, I used to get decent grades but there was something about being bounced from one place to the other that didn’t settle well into a school environment. Besides Dell, I didn’t really have many friends.
“Good morning girls” said the teacher, writing her name on the board. “I’m Miss Cross, for those of you joining us from America for the week; I am the Form Tutor of this group.”
She went on to explain what a tutor group is about. All you really need to know that it’s sort of like home room in American high school except here you’re with the same students pretty much throughout your entire time here. I’m not sure how things go in normal high schools but I used to have a different home room and teacher almost every year---but then again I was lucky to stay at one school for more than a year. Miss Cross droned on a bit more about her job then took attendance. After that, she let us go.
I got to follow Karen around for the day.
I don’t think I need to bore you with every single class. I can give you a rundown of them though. First was English, then Math and Biology. They were pretty much the same as the classes in America except they seemed to be even more boring. After that was History and let me tell you, I’ll take Mr. Royce any day over the troll who taught it here. I usually like learning about World War 2 but this woman made everything sound very bland. It was a lot of blah, blah, blah. After history, Karen had German and yes, I didn’t understand a damn thing. When Connor did his thing, he gave us French. Which is hard enough to have rattling around in our heads. The German was worse though, much worse.
After that, we finally got a break for lunch. We weren’t allowed to eat with one another, though. So I ended up back at the table with the other girls from Our Lady of Angels. I sat in between Emma and Stella. Both of them looked about as exhausted as I felt.
“You can cross two more girls off our list,” said Stella quietly.
“Which ones?”
She gestured slightly with her head. I turned and saw a pair of brunettes sitting together and groaned. How did we miss that there were twins here. Both of them were kind of short and a little overweight. As much as I didn’t want to judge, I just knew there was no way they could be Dekker’s kids. For one thing they didn’t look a thing like him and for another, there was no way he’d ever allow any kid of his to look like that.
“Where do we meet Connor?” asked Emma, sipping her drink. “Because I was dying in French class. I took Spanish in school and even then I struggled.”
I was thinking the same thing myself. So far, I’d been able to get away with my own knowledge but pretty soon, that wasn’t going to work. For starters, after classes today was our first band rehearsal. I think it was pretty safe to say that none of us knew how to play the cello without his little mind “jumpers” he gave us.
Half way into lunch, I excused myself on the false pretense of going to the bathroom. After that, I slipped out of the Great Hall and found a dark, empty classroom. I slipped inside and shut the door. Then I whipped out my scrambled cell. I dialed Kit, she picked up after only one ring.
“Hey Sarge, how’s boarding school life been treating you?”
I ignored the question. “Where’s Connor going to meet us?”
Kit laughed. “I was wondering when you’d call. I’ve got him set up to rendezvous with you three in about ten minutes. Do you know that door on the other side of the kitchen, the one where they get deliveries? He’ll be one of the guys dropping off the newest shipment. As soon as he gets a few moments, he’ll do his thing.”
I nodded and looked at the clock on the phone. I thanked her, slipped it into my hoodie and went back into the Great Hall. I walked over to the table and made some excuse for Emma and Stella. Apparently, it was now my “time of the month” and I needed some help with that. The two of them gave me wide eye looks but after giving them a look of my own, I think they understood. They slowly followed me down the hall and into the kitchen. Luckily, for us there was no one there. We slipped through it silently to the delivery door and waited. Ten minutes later, Connor showed up right on time, carrying a large wooden crate.
“Little help, this thing is heavy.”
I groaned and nodded to Emma. She took it in one hand, carrying it like it was made of paper. She set aside, Connor’s eyes got as big as saucers.
“Stop gawking and do your thing,” I snapped.
He nodded numbly. He did me first, knowledge flooded into my brain. But unlike before, I didn’t get woozy. I think I was finally getting used to it. Everything cello went bouncing around, boggling my mind. When this mission was over, I was going to make sure he never did his thing to me again. I hated how all this new stuff made me feel. I also hated being dependent so much on him. He was a prick and let’s face it; no one wants one of those around. Especially one like him.
“All done gorgeous” he said, just finishing up with Stella.
She was the last.
“Hey” he said, still talking to her. “Kit says you guys might hit a night club tonight, you want to be my date?”
Stella rolled her eyes. “I already told you I don’t swing that way.”
He nodded. “I know, but I figure if I walk in there with a pretty girl like you on my arm all the other girls will get jealous and then become sympathetic when you ignore me the rest of the night.”
I interrupted. “You’re leaving now; Connor or else I’ll have Emma remove you.”
Emma smiled at him, cracking her knuckles.
The color drained from Connor’s face. “I’ll see you tonight, girls.”
I pushed him out of the kitchen and slammed the door in his face.
“Do you think he was a horn dog as a girl too?” asked Stella, shivering.
Emma laughed. “Her name was Maria Velazquez actually. According to Lola, Maria was a real bookworm. She was real shy and quiet.”
“And how does she know that?”
Emma smiled. “They were neighbors. Martin’s Mom and Maria’s mom were best friends. They moved next door to each other. Apparently they drank the same water.”
I nodded. I couldn’t picture Lola as a Martin though. I smiled at that. Then I remembered the hard time I gave her before and frowned.
The three of us slipped out of the kitchen and back into the Great Hall. No one was the wiser.
After lunch, things went by a little faster. Karen dragged me into a Geography class that wasn’t all that bad. I lucked out because they were discussing the US. I think they might have done that for our sake. After that, we went to a Religious Studies class. I’m not even going to discuss how bored I was there. There was a technology class too. I think they wanted their girls to have a well-rounded education. As Rick I would have loved it---Barry would have too, because it was all about computers---but for some reason I couldn’t find myself getting into it. I think a lot of the girls were that way. There were several of them with blank looks on their faces, some of them even staring off into oblivion. Her last normal class was Child Development. You can imagine how well that went over. Emma and Stella were in the class too and I think the two of them were as red in the face as I was. I know it was all a part of being a girl but honestly there was no way I was going to have a kid. Not that there was anything wrong with that but I’m just not that kind of person.
Can you see me taking care of a kid?
I called Child Development her last class because I don’t really consider PE a class. I was never one for sports when I was Rick because I was always too short and girly. A lot of guys used to rib me a lot about it. I got pushed around a lot too, and being the little guy, the others had a tendency to avoid me when it came to picking teams. But being me now, it was a whole different thing. I’m tall now and athletic. Not as motivated as Stella maybe but I’m pretty fit. So PE was kind of a breeze for me. We played something called Net Ball---which is basically basketball. My team dominated, thanks in no part to me and Emma. She may have been a hockey jock before but she was a pretty good ball player too.
After PE, I finally got that much needed shower.
________________________________
The rest of the day went by too damn slow. I don’t think I need to bore you with the details, especially band practice. I have to admit though; the band is good. I don’t generally like the music they play---all classical and crap---but because of my Connor whammy, I know that they’re excellent. Besides getting the usual, we also got a lot of knowledge about classical music. So I now know the ins and outs of things that I wouldn’t necessarily know. I’m just glad that this crap leaves my head. I can’t imagine what it must be like for Connor, always having it in his head. What happens when some girl needs to know something girly? I can’t help at smile at that. I know Connor was once a girl but the thought of him having makeup and hair care expertise rolling around in his head is just priceless.
After practice, I ended up alone in the room. Karen left me a note though. There was something pressing that needed her attention, newspaper business I guess. I think I might have forgotten to mention that. Karen was a member of the school newspaper, the Chairmont Gazette---not very original I know. She was a photographer or something. Her note didn’t say where she went but I think I remember her mentioning something about having to take pictures of the Netball team. So now, here I was sitting on my bed, looking around the empty room. The last time I had a room to myself like this was at the Syndicate. The memory was happy and sad at the same time. Trish helped me decorate and Mr. Red---aka Greg Dwyer---painted it. He was a pretty cool guy until I found out he was a mercenary for hire who killed my best friend Dell. Yeah that kind of puts the whole damper on admiring someone. I sighed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about him. Dwyer was one of the good guys at the Syndicate---well as good as can be expected from him. He was one of the three faculty members who helped us escape---Trish being one and Mr. Black being the other.
Dwyer stuck with us a bit until he kinda disappeared. I didn’t care either way. I’m sure if he stuck around, I probably would have killed him anyway. He was a coward. He left me a note after he left, explaining his guilt over killing my friend. He claimed he was only following orders and felt real bad about it. How can you follow orders but feel bad about it too? It made no sense. But I suppose guys like him have no consciences or something.
I sighed and fell backwards on the bed. The ceiling was a dull white color. Why is it that all places like this don’t bother to paint their ceilings? If it were mine, I’d have midnight blue or black. I think that would look cool. Not that I could ever get away with that at the Center. They didn’t mind us painting our walls but for some reason they drew the line at the ceiling. I think it’s just really hard to do. But then again didn’t that Michelangelo guy paint that ceiling, on his back no less? Maybe they’re just lazy or something.
A knock on the door drew me away from my thoughts. I sat up and groaned. Who the hell is that? It can’t be Karen, she doesn’t get done for another hour and besides it’s her room so she has a key. I groaned and pushed myself off the bed and trudged slowly to the door. When I opened it, I felt like groaning again: it was Britney. She was standing there with the sweetest smile on her face, her long blonde hair looking particularly long and shiny today.
“What do you want?” I asked, not trying to hide my distaste for this girl.
She ignored it. “Is it true that you’re going to the Hellcat tonight?”
I inwardly groaned. Does everyone know about this?
I nodded. “If we can find some way to sneak out of this place.”
Britney smiled. “If you agree to take me along I think I have a plan.”
Bring her alone? We were going to be spying on her potential father. How could I drag her along unless…What better way to distract someone then to bring their own daughter. Can you imagine if Dekker saw his darling little girl thrashing about in the club? He’d blow a gasket and cause a scene. It would be enough of one to get him away from his room and us in there. Of course, that plan all hinged on the fact that Jasmine was right and Dekker wasn’t there at nights. But a solid back up might be a good idea.
I regretted my next words. “You can come but no one else. I don’t want this to become common knowledge.”
She smiled big, showing off her shiny white teeth. “Don’t worry; I know how to keep a secret.”
I smiled. I bet she does.
I didn’t wait for her to say anything else as I shut the door in her face. I didn’t slam it though, even though I wanted to. After all, she was going to get us out of this place. The least I could do was be polite to her, at least until we were free. As soon as we were at the club, I planned to treat her like she had the plague.
I went back to the bed and collapsed onto it again. I tried my hardest to get some sleep; it’s hard when someone throws off your sleep cycle. But no matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t do it. I hate it when you can’t fall asleep. It’s one of those things that seem to be my weakness. Superman has kryptonite, Homer Simpson has donuts and Rebecca Howe has sleep issues. I can’t really call it insomnia because I do sleep. It’s more like as soon as I wake up I can’t seem to fall back to sleep. Sometimes it just happens, most of that time is when you least expect it. Other times I get knocked unconscious. That happens more than I’d like. Then there are those times when you’re trying to stay awake and you fall asleep. I hate those.
I groaned then continued my tossing and turning.
I never did get asleep.
After tossing about for an hour or so, I gave up and decided to make my way to dinner. I found the Great Hall semi-packed. Karen was already there, sitting with her group. I’m not sure but I think they might seat the girls by Tutor group. I noticed a couple of the girls from this morning sitting with her. Karen was alone at the end of the table, eating her dinner in silence. I felt kind of bad for her. She seemed like the odd girl out and she looked sadder than ever. I’d been meaning to ask her about that. Sometimes she seemed ok, but other times it was like the world seemed to be contagious to her. Every once in a while she’d flinch or tense up. It usually happened around guys too. I wonder if she had a bad experience. I bit my lip. For once, I actually wished I’d brought an Empath on this mission.
I found Emma and Stella at the table too. The two of them were becoming fast friends. I guess I could deal with that. They did have a lot in common after all, both being recent additions to the club. Some of the guys at the Center had jokingly started calling it the “New Thong Club.” They got a couple of laughs out of it until one of the new girls---I’m not sure who---coined the phrase “New Jockey Club”. It’s funny but guys can dish out the jokes until they’re directed back at them. They grumbled a bit about it and then dropped the teasing. Unfortunately, for them, most of us were once guys so we couldn’t wait to tease them with our new name every chance we got.
“Evening ladies” I said, sitting down with my tray, doing a bad Connor impersonation.
Stella groaned and Emma rolled her eyes. “Tell me you weren’t like that before?”
I smiled. “Not on your life.”
We shared a smile then looked at Emma. She was sipping her drink and then did a double take at our twin smiles. “Don’t look at me” she said “just because I was a jock that doesn’t make me an ultimate dick. I was a gamer if you must know.”
We all shared a laugh. It was good to laugh. I’d been feeling so angry lately that laughing was kind of therapeutic in a way.
Stella took on a more serious tone. “Good and bad news guys.” Emma and I both stopped laughing. “I got the 411 on the last of the girls and they’re no go’s either.”
I sighed then the three us turned as one, looking across the Great Hall. Our gazes fell on Britney. She was sitting with a group of girls, giggling and having a good time. There was no doubt about it now; she had to be Dekker’s daughter. I smiled at my foresight. I knew that bitch had to be related to him somehow, I just knew it. It was the way she talked and the way she moved. She was too snobbish and cruel to be anything but.
After staring at her for a few more seconds, I nodded. “Mission accomplished girls.”
“Are we one hundred percent certain?” asked Stella.
Emma answered for me. “There’s no one else. Besides, she looks a lot like him. If she’s not his daughter then I’ll make out with Connor.”
None of us laughed. But Stella did shudder.
Then she shook her head. “She’s not what you guys think. She might be a bitch on the outside but there’s no way she’s a girl who her father abandoned. It’s the way she talks and acts. I know snobby people; I used to mow lawns for a lot of them. There’s no way she’s one of them. She may appear that way but it’s all an act really.” She blushed but neither of us seemed to notice. “She’s different. If she’s Dekker’s daughter then there’s no way she knows it.”
I shook my head. “Regardless, she might be the only link we have at finding him.”
“What about the nightclub? That’s still on right?”
I smiled. “There’s no way I’d pass that up.”
Emma and Stella sighed in relief. I think the two of them were really looking forward to it. I was looking forward to it, too. I invited Barry and Brad. But I was hoping maybe I could get Barry to loosen up a bit; maybe tell me what’s been eating away at him. He was reluctant to accept the invitation---he had a lot of work to do---but I pulled rank. I outranked him and the others. I told him that it was a part of the mission so he finally agreed.
________________________________
Ok, so Britney’s little sneak out plan wasn’t much of a plan. It consisted of the five of us---hey, I couldn’t go without my roomie---making a crank phone call to the front desk about a strange man in front of the school. Apparently, the school took prowlers and perverts very seriously. Chairmont had a small security force. They were notable by the red blazers they wore and how they stood out amongst the green. Mr. Phelps was the Head of Security, he was the only other person in the school who knew who I really was or rather he knew the cover story we gave Miss Pennington. So we didn’t really need Britney’s little distraction but I did want her along so I let her think she was contributing. In truth, Kit and Barry caused the security cameras to malfunction and created an actual emergency---Barry put a virus in the security computers---to preoccupy security.
But we let Britney think it was her doing. She got a big smile out of that.
We followed her down the hall and into the kitchen. We went out the same back door that Connor met us at after lunch today. Britney went first of course. She looked real funny sneaking across the lawn in her short dress and four inch heels. But then again we all looked kind of ridiculous. It was Britney’s idea of course. Apparently, there was no way they’d let any of us rejects---Stella not included---into the club wearing what we usually wore. Luckily, for us though, she had some clothes waiting. Don’t tell me how she knew our sizes. The others were dressed normally; well at least they had more clothing than I did anyway. I think the bitch was trying to embarrass the hell out of me. She was succeeding, too. It’s not every day that I wear a shirt with no back, a skirt so short it barely covers my ass, heels that make me feel like an Amazon and so much makeup that a clown would blush.
“You look so posh though,” she told me after she was done doing my makeup.
She even teased my hair a bit and made sure my heels were so high that I had to walk like a sexy bimbo. When this was all over, I was going to interrogate her so hard that I reduced her to a puddle of piss. I wonder if she knew the three of us were on to her and that’s why she was doing this. She came out of nowhere earlier. She definitely didn’t look like the type that would want to go to a club called the Hellcat but then again neither did any of us. I don’t do well in the whole crowd situation. I never have, even as Rick. There’s just something about a lot of people, in a cramped space that makes my skin crawl. Going into this club tonight would be the first time I’d ever been in a place that packed as a girl too. Both the malls I went into were full of people but there was a lot more room then.
We cut across the lawn, Britney in the lead still. She was clinging to the walls, moving like a sexed up cat burglar. It was kind of ridiculous, watching her slink along like she did. I couldn’t help but smile but as long as she was going in the same direction we were, I was fine with that. If Dekker was there it would truly be a shock for him to see his little girl grinding with some jackass. In fact, I planned to point her out to the hopeless Connor, maybe he’d get his “freak” on with her. He looked like the kind of guy who liked to party hard. Not that I condone those kinds of things but what’s the harm at seeing two asses make bigger asses out of themselves, in public no less.
Finally, we were done playing 007.
There was a black taxi waiting for us. The driver was standing outside and I groaned. It was the same guy from last night. I fell behind a bit, hoping he wouldn’t recognize me.
He opened the door. “Evening, lovelies” he said as Britney slid in first, followed by Stella, Emma and Karen.
I kept my head down as I slowly slid into the car. It’s really hard to do in such a short skirt.
“Ello, ello” he said, recognizing me. “I almost didn’t recognize you luv, what with you being all dolled up and all. Where’s the boyfriend tonight?”
I flushed beet red. Emma gave me a look. Her eyebrow rose. I stumbled over my words. “He’s meeting us.”
The cabbie smiled. “Lucky lad.”
The cabbie smiled and shut the door. I tried my best to be invisible, even slouching in my seat a bit.
“Something you’re not telling us, Beck?” asked Emma, throwing me a knowing smile.
I blushed and ignored her, looking out the window instead.
We drove in relative silence. It didn’t take long to get to the club. But unlike last night where the street was deserted, there was a huge crowd of people in front of the building now. I guess I didn’t really describe the building before. I didn’t have the need too. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt for a little description. The Hellcat wasn’t a place that you’d think was a nightclub because it didn’t look very big. But according to Britney---who’d been before---that was its charm. Most of the club was actually underground. The building was an old factory of some kind during the turn of the century. It was abandoned for years until some rich somebody bought it, gutted it and turned it into what it is now. The top floors were VIP areas and of course the apartment. But the bottom floor and the basement---where the dance floor and DJ were---was all open to the public.
“The best part” said Britney as the cabbie pulled up to the pavement. “They don’t card you here.”
She got out of the car first and went right into line. Stella followed, looking very fine indeed in her tight green dress. She looked posh too according to Britney but for some reason her hair wasn’t as teased and her makeup not caked on as much. But the green did bring out the emerald color of her eyes nicely. Looking at here---all dolled up---made my nipples hard. Hey, the pheromones still work on me remember?
“I’m not so sure about this,” said Karen as she got out of the cab in front of me.
I smiled and squeezed her hand. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want too. There’s plenty of places we can go. I think there’s a little coffee shop nearby, right?” She nodded.
Then she shook her head. “No, I wanna do this. I gotta do this.”
“Thatta girl.”
We got into line behind Britney and Stella, Emma got in behind me. She was being the ever vigilant sentinel but she didn’t need to be. Inside already were the guys no doubt and my tactical support. I made sure the two of them inserted themselves into the nightlife somewhere. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I saw Kit and Samson together. It was hard to tell though because they were in civvies. Though it wasn’t all that odd to see them out of uniform---especially on a mission---the two of them considered fatigue colored cargos and black shirts as standard non-issue wear. Thankfully, the two of them never followed us around in public. The only time I think I saw Samson out of his “nonofficial” uniform was when he followed us into the mall when we were looking for Emma.
It didn’t take long for the line to start moving along.
When it finally got to us, the doorman let Britney and Stella in without a problem. When it got to me, Karen and Emma he gave us the once over first. His eyes widened when he got to Emma and he smiled real big. Men are such pigs, I’m glad I’m not one anymore.
“You ladies can go,” he said, waving us inside.
I gulped as I stepped through the doorway, my ears quickly assailed by the pounding noise of the music. Everything was overly loud to me. It actually hurt. I stumbled a bit, falling into Emma. She caught me, a look of concern on her face. I shook it off though. I took a deep breath, trying to filter out the noise. But it wasn’t just that, either. The sound was bouncing around the room, coming at me from all sides. That’s why I was so dizzy. That and the smell. I can’t even describe it to you. It was many different ones, waiting around the room in so many different colors. Then there was the people. They were crushing against one another, so many that it was hard to move. Emma took the lead for us, elbowing her way through. She might not look like much but there was no way I’d want to stand in her way.
She pushed us through to an area where they had some tables. We found Stella, sitting alone. There were a couple chairs around her and we slipped into them.
“Where’s You Know Who?”
Stella raised an eyebrow. Then sighed. “She saw some hottie and disappeared into the ground after him.”
I nodded. “Figures.”
Karen fidgeted uncomfortably next to me. “It’s really loud in here.”
I groaned. “You have no idea,” I said softly then louder I said. “We can still bail if you want.”
“No” she said rather quickly. “I want to be here. I have to be here.”
I took the bait. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
She bit her lip, nibbling it a bit. “No…it’s just that my Dad would never let me go to a place like this…he’d blow a gasket.”
I nodded. It was a lousy lie but if she didn’t want to open up I wasn’t going to force her.
Luckily, for me I didn’t have to. Stella took my cue---she must be a mind reader---and started chatting with Karen. I smiled, then scanned the crowd. It didn’t take me long to find Kit and Samson. The two of them were sitting at a table together, pretending to be extra attentive to one another. For once, they looked like normal people. Kit was in a tight pink dress, Samson in a blue button down shirt and black pants. They were laughing and having a good time. It was all an act of course; I could tell by the way they looked over at our table every now and then. I noticed something else too. A certain blonde powerhouse sitting next to me.
Emma was looking over at Samson and Kit too. There was something in her stare that made me glad I wasn’t on the receiving. Unfortunately, it looked like Samson was. There was a snapping crack, low enough that only I could hear because of the music. I looked down and saw that she was gripping the table tightly, the wood having splintered under her vice-like grip. I smiled and looked back over at Samson and Kit. Samson looked like he’d just swallowed a goldfish.
I turned away, laughing to myself.
I scanned the rest of the crowd looking for my posse. The guys were definitely not on the dance floor. But it didn’t take long for me to find them. They were standing at the bar, the three of them dressed in similar fashion. Apparently, there was no make over guru at their school like at ours. I looked at Connor, his shirt unbuttoned a bit at the collar; he’s such an ass. Then I looked over at Brad. He looked as beautiful as ever, his shirt was light blue, it brought out the color of his eyes nicely. I bit my lip, my gaze falling on Barry. He was dressed in black from head to toe. He was nursing a glass of blue liquid and looked really bored. Damn it, what the hell was his problem lately.
“Emma, you going to be ok taking table duty?”
I didn’t get a response. So I turned around to ask her face to face but her chair was empty. I looked quickly over at Kit and Samson but the two of them were sitting together still. Then I looked at the dance floor. It didn’t take me long to find her. She bobbing up and down, dancing awfully close to a blonde guy. I only saw the back of his head but he had one of those looks---slicked back hair, tall and frat boyish---he was definitely not her type. But I think she did it to make Samson jealous. I think it was working too because he kept looking over at them.
I turned to Stella and Karen. “I’m going to the loo,” I said, putting on a bad British accent. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Stella looked past me, over at the bar and nodded. “We’ll stay here and hold down the fort.”
I nodded and made my way slowly through the crowd. I pretended to head toward the bathroom so as not to raise Karen’s suspicions then I doubled back, taking the long way around to the bar. I came up behind Barry, slipping my arms his waist, resting my head into his back. He was so tense but it felt good to be pressed up against him.
“Hey, babe” I said, loud enough for him to hear.
“Hey”
Unfortunately, for me, Brad and Barry said it at the exact same time.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Ten by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Ten...finally. I think the weather affects how I write, the better the weather, the faster I write. It's been cold and miserable where I live. I just want to say that there's a awesome cliffhanger at the end of this one, things come to light slowly...I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my brainstorm friends for helping me work out the last few kinks in this tale, you know who you are.
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Chapter Ten:
The two of them stared at each for a long time, neither saying a thing. I bit my lip, inwardly groaning. Why did I say that, why did Brad? I looked at him, trying to read the look on his face. It was blank but I could tell he knew he slipped up. Barry on the other hand looked like he wanted to punch his hand through a wall. His nostrils were flaring, his hands clenched at his sides. He was angry, it was the first time I’d ever seen him like this. As much as I’d like to take credit for all of this, it wasn’t just my fault. I admit that some of it was---the Brad side of things---but Barry hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend, either. It’s hard to show interest in someone when they don’t show any in you.
Finally, Brad spoke up: “Look, Barry, nothing happened between us. It was just some innocent flirting, I swear.”
Barry didn’t say anything. He continued to stare; he stared for a long time. I think both Brad and I held our breaths. Ok, so it was a little more than innocent flirting, I think everyone knew that. But you can’t help who you’re attracted or not attracted to. Me, I’m unfortunately attracted to a lot of people, chief among them are Barry and Brad. Hey, I can’t help it, if it makes me some kind of tramp then so be it.
Finally spoke, his eyes glued on Brad. “How innocent can flirting be? I’ve seen you two together, there’s nothing innocent about it.”
Whoa, he actually sounded kinda angry. That pissed me off a bit. I didn’t realize I was being watched. And when, he spent all his time in either that stupid computer lab or the information room. It infuriated me. My anger rose. “Are you spying on me?”
He didn’t say anything.
Brad did though. He cleared his throat and looked like the odd man out. “Look, I’m going to find Emma.”
He didn’t wait for either of us to respond. He silently slipped between the two of us, brushing past Barry on the way. Barry glared at him, looking like he was about to pounce. I snapped my finger in front of his face, getting his attention. Barry was good, heck he taught me but Brad would have kicked his ass. Barry was all skin and bones; I’m not sure why that was, though. Most of the girls to guys that I’ve seen are all ripped. Maybe Barry was unlucky. Or maybe it was because he spent so much time in front of a computer screen and not enough time exercising. Whatever the reason, he’d gotten kind of soft in the last couple of months. Hell, I could probably kick his ass right now.
In fact, I felt like doing just that.
“What the hell was that all about?” I snapped, still infuriated with him.
“I don’t want you near that guy anymore.”
He can’t be serious. He’s going to play the jealous boyfriend now. Especially after being the non-existent boyfriend for weeks. I wanted to punch him in the face and I probably would have if not for all the people currently crushing around us. It’s kind of hard to reel your arm back when you barely have room to stand next to someone.
“So now you’re pretending to care about me?”
“I care about you,” he said angrily.
“Then where the hell have you been?”
I didn’t get an answer to that. Instead, he just looked angrier. Then he slammed his glass on the bar top. It shattered, sending his drink all over the place. It was shocking to say the least. I never saw him get this angry before even when we were escaping the Syndicate. I stared at this guy in front of me, trying to see the same guy with all that passion and fire from before. But he wasn’t there anymore. Instead there was nothing but this shell of his former self. He looked strained too, like he was under a lot of stress and there was something else too. Though he appeared to be really angry, I could something different in his eyes. I’m not sure what exactly but it almost looked like…
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said angrily, interrupting my thoughts.
I did a double take. “Do what, us?”
He sighed and nodded. No one around us could hear the conversation, not even the bartender. But what he was saying was pretty damn clear.
“You want to break up with me? Here and now?”
“Look I’m sorry but it’s not working. I can’t keep doing this with you.”
I was stunned. I knew the two of us had hit sort of a rough patch before and even now but I thought we were going pretty good. Ok so the last few days I’ve been kind of a bitch and I did slap him but he wasn’t much better. What kind of girl wants to date a guy who hides in a computer lab all day? But I still loved him or rather whatever the facsimile of love is at my age. Hey, I’m only sixteen, I don’t think I’m ready for grown up love yet. But the two of us were going strong, at least as far as I knew. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to force back the tears that were starting to well. How could he do this now? We were on a mission, I needed to concentrate and keep my A game up. But he had to go and throw a wrench into it.
I took a deep breath; refusing to open my eyes for fear that he’d see me bawling.”Can we not do this now?”
I heard him sigh. “I’m sorry Becca, I can’t keep lying.”
I opened my eyes finally, the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Lying about what?”
He looked a little pale then shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it quickly. Instead of speaking, he turned and pushed his way into the crowd. Oh no he doesn’t. He’s not going to drop something like that on me and just disappear. I grumbled and pushed my way into the crowd too. There were so many people; they were so close together that it was like trying to hack your way through a dense jungle. I caught sight of him for a second but then he disappeared again. But I think he was making his way for the door. I groaned and put on the speed, pushing and shoving to get through. There was no way I was going to let him get away that fast.
I got sight of him again; he was almost at the door.
I gritted my teeth and pushed on. I got to the spot where the tables were, barely registering Stella and Karen waving to me. I brushed past. I got about ten more feet when a hand gently grabbed my arm. I spun around, ready to pulverize whoever it was. But all the anger seeped out of me because it was Brad and he looked a bit frantic.
“Have you seen Emma?”
His question didn’t register at first. I looked over my shoulder and saw Barry slip out of the club. Damn it. Then I snapped back to Brad. “She was with some tall blonde guy,” I said, pulling my arm away.
He nodded. “You ok?”
Tears were still rolling down my cheeks. “I’m fine” I lied “I just need some air.”
“You want me to come…”
I didn’t let him finish. I turned away quickly and pushed my way back into the crowd. I heard Brad calling me over all the noise but I ignored him. I didn’t have time to deal with any more boys at the moment. I needed to deal with the one I had, Brad would just complicate that. Besides, if I showed up with him then Barry would be really pissed. What the hell was with that anyway? First, he tells me to stay away from Brad then he tells me he doesn’t want to lie anymore. First, he’s jealous then guilty. The boy needs to make up his mind. He needs to be one and not the other. When I was a guy I was never that way with girls, not that I ever had one. But I never would have sent them mixed signals like Barry.
I finally managed to push my way through the crowd.
I got the front entrance and had to dodge a couple of bimbos who practically bulldozered me to get inside. I shot them dirty looks, pushed past them and ended up back in the streets. The bouncer gave me a look and said something about me, “if I wanted to get back in it would have to be at the end of the line.” I ignored him and ran out onto the sidewalk. But Barry was nowhere in sight. I cursed. If Brad hadn’t stopped me, I probably could have caught up with him. I bit my lip and reached into the little purse I was carrying. I pulled out the scrambled phone and dialed Barry. Emma and Stella were the only ones who didn’t have phones. Mrs. Fine felt that I was capable of contacting them with whatever information I could send them. Besides, it was easier to get one phone into the school instead of three.
I let the phone ring a few times then it went to voice mail. After the beep, I left my message. “Barry, you’re being ridiculous. You can’t just say something like that and walk off. You and I need to talk about this like adults. You better know damn well this isn’t done and as soon as I get my hands on you I’m going to kick your ass.”
I snapped the phone shut and fought the urge to toss it into the road and underneath a passing car. Instead, I stuffed it back into my little bag. How is it that he was able to get a car so fast? I looked up and down the street but the only people around were ones trying desperately to get into the place I just ran from. I sighed. I fought back the urge to whip out my phone again and give him another call. Then I cursed myself. When I started this relationship with him a long time ago, I promised myself I wasn’t going to turn into a typical girl. Yeah I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, I’m as girly as a girl can be now. But there was a time when I swore to myself that I wouldn’t let this thing change my life. So besides fighting back tears and the urge to give my boyfriend another call, I wanted to scream and tear what was left of my hair out.
“Becca” shouted a voice, shattering my thoughts.
I snapped around, ready to chew someone out. I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with one of my friends. But what I saw was a strange Emo girl with bright blue hair and a lot of facial piercings. She was standing in line wearing a neon green skirt, fishnet stockings and boots I would have died for---they looked so much like mine, they even had the buckles. I racked my brain trying to put a name to the face and also trying to figure out if I had given this girl my name.
She pushed out of the crowd and came walking over. “Hey, it’s Jasmine. We met around the corner last night.”
I nodded. That was her name but I still didn’t remember giving her mine. “How did you know my name?”
She smirked. “I overheard your gorgeous friend say it.”
“No offense” I said “I’m not really in the mood for company. I’m having a really bad day.”
“You and Adonis boy get into a fight?”
“You’re half right. Brad is just a friend…it’s my boyfriend…”
“Say no more. With a friend like that guy I can see why your boyfriend was jealous.”
I smiled, I’m not sure why. “I didn’t say he was jealous.”
Her smile was wicked. “How can he not be?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I shouldn’t have but there was something about Jasmine. I’d only met her that once and only briefly. But out of all the people here---save Karen---she was kindred somehow. I’m not really sure how to describe it. Well there was the obvious outward appearance of course. She wasn’t exactly Goth but she was Emo enough to be close. She also had my boots and in my book that was enough to consider her not to be one of the lemmings.
“So your boyfriend…your real one, did he run off or something?”
“We had a fight and he took off before I could discuss things with him.”
She nodded. “Well then girlfriend” she said, taking my arm. “I know just the thing to cheer you up.”
Before I could protest, she dragged me down the road toward destination unknown.
I was half expecting her to drag into a seedy bar or another nightclub but when she pulled me into a little coffee shop, I sighed. I don’t think I was ready for a bar yet. Besides, in the US I’d have been way too young to even get through the front door. But this place was nice. It was a small little hole-in-the-wall, off the beaten path and everything. It had a rustic feel too, complete with roaring fire and moose head over the mantle. There were even giant comfy looking chairs in front of it too. I so wanted to sit there but instead Jasmine dragged me over to the counter.
“Hey, can we get two Irish coffees?”
The man behind the counter frowned at us. “Are you girls old enough for those?”
Jasmine gave him a “duh” look. The guy shrugged and walked off. Me I bit my lip. Irish coffees had alcohol in them, didn’t they? I’m not sure if I was ready for that. I dabbled here and there but only a few sips and it never really agreed with me. I’m kind of a lightweight, well Rick was anyway. I debated internally with myself over whether or not I should drink one when the guy put two beer mugs in front of us. Jasmine scooped her’s up quickly and took a sip, some of the foamy froth stayed on her lip. I took a deep breath, snatched it up and took a small sip. It had a strong taste; there was coffee but something else, too.
“How is this supposed to make me feel any better?”
She shrugged. “It always helps me mum.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Besides, I needed this right now. I couldn’t think about Barry, Brad, Britney, or any of it. I was tired of it at the moment. Right now, all I wanted to do was drown my sorrows, at least for a bit. I took another sip of the coffee and then another. After the first few sips, I forgot all about the strong taste and actually started to enjoy it. Jasmine seemed to be enjoying hers too. She sipped and talked, telling me all about her life. I’m not really sure if I comprehended much of it though. Because unfortunately for me, I was a lightweight in both genders. After only a few more sips, I felt a little tipsy. I swayed a bit on the stool and started giggling at everything that was coming out of Jasmine’s mouth.
“I don’t usually drink,” I said, laughing. “I tried once. I was with some friends and Frankie said that a man wasn’t a man until he had his first beer. So I only took a few sips and nearly puked all over the place.”
Jasmine laughed. “I know.”
I laughed along with her. “Frankie said that after a few more sips I dropped right to the ground, out like a light.”
Jasmine didn’t laugh. “I know.”
I continued to laugh, sipping as I did. I’m not sure when I felt something was wrong. I think was when my arms and legs started to feel a bit sluggish. I set the mug down, it was half full now. Jasmine’s was almost all the way full and was sitting untouched on the counter. How did that happen? She smiled at me but it wasn’t a goofy one like I was giving her. The room started to spin and everything started to blur in and out of focus. I stumbled and see caught me.
“Easy there Becca” she said but there was something different about her voice.
“Heyyyyy” I slurred, my lips felt numb and heavy. “Whatttt happeennned to youuur acccentttt?”
She smiled as she lifted me from the stool, putting her hands under my arms, trying to get me to stand. I tried to push her away, realizing something was really, really wrong. I couldn’t feel my arms and legs now. I looked at the mug on the counter. There was something different about it, different from hers. I looked at the bottom and saw something just finishing dissolving. You gotta be kidding me. I tried to focus but everything was blurry and the world seemed to be swirling around me. I heard a voice ask if I was all right and then Jasmine said that I was just a little tipsy.
She half carried, half dragged me out the door.
Outside I heard a screech of tires. I looked to the road, seeing a gray van parked there. The side door opened up and someone got out. I couldn’t see his face because everything was so blurry. But he helped Jasmine carry me into the van. It didn’t take them long before they got me inside and laid me on the floor.
Someone shut the door and the van started moving.
“It’s about time,” said Jasmine with a snarl, her voice sounded a million miles away. “What took so long?”
“He couldn’t find a place to park.”
I looked over but could only see blurry images. One was a blonde guy behind the wheel, the other was a blonde girl slumped in the passenger seat. I turned to Jasmine and the other guy but they were way too blurry for me to see. I tried to say something but nothing came out. Instead, I groaned, lurched forward and passed out.
______________________________
I opened my eyes and first thing I noticed was that I was floating. I suppose you could say that when you’re drunk and drugged you kind of feel that way but this was completely different. For one I was floating in a black void and for another I was pretty certain I was still unconscious. Great I’m either dreaming, hallucinating or I’m dead. I think I’m going to go with the former. But I’m not sure if I liked that any better than the other two. It wasn’t everyday that someone knew they were dreaming. But I guess it’s better than not knowing. I’m not sure if I could handle another one of those sugar coated happy land ones only to have it shattered before it was over.
At least with this one I knew what to expect.
I looked about, trying to see if there was anything new. I’d been in this void before, a couple of times I think. But in the last few weeks, I’d only been here once or twice. You would think that I’d get sick of it but lately I’d actually been kinda missing it. It was like a second home for me for a while, a place to go to unwind and think about my day. Ok so I’m full of it but what else do I got to think about. I’m floating in fricking void here.
I looked down at myself, thanking myself tht I was dressed normally. That was a good reason to prove that I was dreaming and not dead. If I was dead I was pretty certain I’d still be in that crazy outfit Britney forced me to wear. At least that’s how it usually is in movies; you wear what you die in. Like that one with Bruce Willis---yep, I saw that one. But then again that was the movies. If I ever woke up and get myself out of whatever it is I’m in now, I’ll make sure to ask some of the Ghost Seer people back at the Center. They seem to know a lot about those kinds of things.
“You’re not dead,” said a voice, it bounced and echoed around me.
I groaned. I knew the voice, I knew it really well because it was mine.
“You mind telling me what I am then?”
A mirror appeared in front of me, floating in the void just like me. My reflection was there again but she had my signature streak and purple eyes. She was smirking at me. It wasn’t fair, she looked normal and I felt like an idiot. “You haven’t figured it out, then?”
I sighed. I had a pretty good idea. “Jasmine fucked me over.”
My reflection nodded. “She got you good. You should have seen that one coming.”
“We should have seen that one coming,” I corrected and my reflection nodded. “So what happens now?”
Mirror Me shrugged. “I don’t know; I’m just a manifestation of your subconscious. I’m just here to keep you from going nuts.”
I smiled. “This brings a whole new meaning to the phrase talking to yourself.”
She laughed. “You’re the boss.”
“In the real world maybe but you seem to know what’s going on here. Do you have any idea how we wake up?”
“Not sure” she said “but I think I can get you out of this void.”
I nodded. “Anything’s better than here.”
The mirror disappeared. I frowned. I may have been talking to myself but it was the only company I had. Now I was completely alone. Luckily, I wasn’t in the black for very long. The void started to waver, shimmering like a bad flashback scene. One minute I was floating and then the next I was slowly drifting downwards. At first, I thought I was going to fall into nothingness. Then I felt ground underneath my feet. Looking down I still saw only blackness but it was like there was an invisible floor under my feet. But slowly the floor started taking shape, forming tile after tile. The walls started taking shape around me too and the void disappeared altogether. In its place was a prison like hallway, with its tiled floor and dull colored walls.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
The hallway looked very familiar because I’d been here several times before. Well actually they were all pretty much the same but there was no denying that I was back at the Syndicate, Section Four to be exact, my prison. If this was my idea of a sense of humor, it wasn’t funny in the least. This was the last place in the world I wanted to be. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them I’d be back in the Void or maybe someplace nice. I tried picturing a tropical island getaway in my head. But I couldn’t concentrate. Frustrated I opened my eyes and groaned.
I was still in a Syndicate hallway. But this time I wasn’t alone.
There was someone standing at the end of it. It was a man I think, shrouded in shadow. There was something about him that seemed so familiar. I took a few steps down the hall but he didn’t make any attempt to move, either backwards or forwards. I quickened my pace but he still just stood there. As I got closer and closer, I started to notice things. For one he was wearing a black suit and for two, he was holding a black cane. It dawned on me then who this guy had to be. A fury boiled inside of me and I ran full speed at the son of a bitch. Dream or not, I was going to rip the bastard’s throat out.
I ran as hard and as fast as I could. As I ran, Reta appeared in my hand. It felt good to grip her handle. I raised her, leveling her barrel at the bastard’s chest and fired off two shots. There was no way I was going to miss him this time. I hit him, both found their intended targets. Dekker wavered, dipping into the light so I could see his smug face. He looked shocked for a moment. Then recognition appeared on his face as he dropped his cane and slumped to the floor. I fired another shot, snapping the cane in two. He dropped the useless tool.
I advanced on him quickly, keeping my gun trained on his head. “Don’t move motherfucker.”
He smirked, his teeth smeared with blood. “Clearly you don’t realize the situation I’m in. You put two in my chest; I’m not going to be moving much ever again.”
I smiled, looking at the two holes seeping blood, ruining his nice white shirt. It was less than he deserved but it was better than nothing. A small part of me knew that this wasn’t real, that it was my subconscious finally allowing me to play out my revenge fantasy but frankly, I didn’t care. It was the closest I was going to get to the bastard at the moment.
“Not so high and mighty now are we? This may be a dream and you may not be real but I’ve got you. I’ve got you in the real world too; Britney is going to lead me right to you”
He laughed, coughing up blood. “You are ever observant but not very bright.”
“What are you talking about?”
He smirked. “Britney of course.”
“What about her?”
“It’s too convenient,” he said, laughing. “I might not be real but even I know that Dekker doesn’t have a daughter.”
I lowered Reta, stumbling a bit. “What are you saying?”
“Think about it for a second” he said, slowly pulling himself to a seated position. “You’ve been stressing about killing me for weeks now and suddenly the opportunity just pops up, out of the blue. You probably would have thought that odd if you’d been thinking straight. But all you’ve been thinking about it popping me.” He waved a hand over his chest. “Congratulations on that by the way, you’ve surely killed me.”
My hand started to shake. My fingers got numb and I dropped Reta to the ground. Holy shit it was too convenient. I’d been so blinded by hate I didn’t even put two and two together. I stumbled backwards, falling against the wall and sliding to the floor. I’m a fucking idiot. We were all fucking idiots. It was so obvious and so stupid. I groaned. “Britney isn’t Dekker’s daughter,” I said aloud, groaning.
“Because he doesn’t have one.”
“It took you long enough”
I groaned some more, running my fingers through my hair. “But if Dekker doesn’t have a daughter than what the hell am I doing here?”
He smirked and shrugged. “You’re the big bad girl with the gun, you tell me.”
The world swirled around me and light flooded my eyes.
______________________________
My eyes snapped open and I screamed. The light burned. It burned my eyes and it burned my face. I snapped my eyes shut, revolting from the pain. Someone must have removed my contacts. I rolled about in agony, thrashing and thumping. Son of a bitch. No matter how much pain I could endure, there was no way I could endure the light. The last time someone used it to torture me like this it was at the Syndicate. There were several someones in fact. I think they got a thrill out of watching me wiggling about like a worm on a hook. Some of them might have even got off on it. Me, it was the most excruciating thing in my entire life.
There was a laugh off to my left. “Damn, it’s true. He said it fucked you up but I had no idea.”
I recognized the voice. It was Jasmine, a much crueler and nastier one than before.
“You going to shut off the lights?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I heard the switch flick and sighed. I opened my eyes. At first, I saw only spots but slowly they faded away and then the whole room came to me in the darkness. It wasn’t very large, like a small storage room or something. I was sitting on a dingy cot, stripped to my underwear. I touched the pale skin on my arm and groaned. Someone knew about the Second Skin because it was gone. I bit my lip that was definitely going to complicate things. I looked over at Jasmine; she was sitting on a stack of wooden crates, holding a maglite in her hand. There was a smirk on her face, sadistic and twisted. I couldn’t believe this was the same girl I’d been laughing with before.
“So what’s the deal?” I asked, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs.
She ignored the question. “So you can see in the dark, right?” I rolled my eyes and nodded. “That is so freaking cool. He said it was cool but hearing it and seeing it are two different things. It’s kind of freaky though, your eyes shining like that. Like in Pitch Black but only way cooler.”
I nodded. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Who’s this he you keep referring too?”
She laughed. “He said you’d ask that. He also said you were really smart. I figured you’d have figured it out by now.”
So it was someone who knew all about me. There were only so many people who knew that were still alive, Dekker being one of them. But there was no way he’d work with teenagers; he hated our guys.
Besides, I had every reason to believe that Jasmine was one of us. It was the only way to explain why she wasn’t shocked or even afraid of me. So ruling out Dekker---at least for the moment---it had to be someone connected to the Syndicate and Carson. He had a lot of stuff on us probably, more than I knew I’m sure. Unless….
“You work for the traitor?”
She smiled and shook her head. “He works with us actually. He did a good job of it too, making your people think that Dekker had a little girl, knowing that you’d race off to find her because you were hell bent to find the son of a bitch. Who’d a thought you’d be that stupid though.”
My anger started to build. So I was right, Dekker didn’t have a daughter. But the other stuff didn’t make any sense. Who would want to drag me all the way out here? I mean it was crazy. Someone actually did all this and for what. It didn’t make any sense.
A phone rang, shattering my thoughts. Jasmine reached into her pocket and clicked it on. “Hey, yep she’s up now, about time if you ask me. Yeah she’s asking for you already. You want me to put the light back on so you can talk” She sighed. “You’re no fun. Ok see you in a few, Dee.”
She clicked off the phone and set it aside.
Dee, who the hell was Dee?
The door to the storage room unlocked and opened, a stream of light spilled into the room. I snapped my head away, pulling my body as close as I could get into the shadow. A figure slipped into the room, shutting the door quickly behind him. I groaned when I saw him, the Dee she was referring too. He was different now. His hair was a bit longer and he looked thinner, especially around the face. But he was bundled up in a thick gray sweater and his pants looked a little loose.
He looked right at me and smiled. “Heya Becca, been a while huh?”
His voice sounded off, too but I couldn’t quite place it.
“What the hell is going on, Declan?”
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Eleven by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: I had a lot of free time on my hands...so I was able to get 11 done awfully quick. This is the chapter that will finally end the speculation...the traitor will be revealed. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my few select people once again for helping me brainstorm.
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Chapter Eleven:
The smug jackass smirked. “You of all people should have figured that out by now.”
Declan St. James. I groaned. The two of us were semi-friends, back before all of this stuff happened. Back then, I idolized him when he was pretending to be someone else, a guy named Frankie. I met him at a foster home and he was the coolest kid that I knew. Then some crazy shit happened and I ended up at the Syndicate. I transformed from tiny Rick into what I am now and as far as I knew, Frankie was a traitor, someone who sold me out to the authorities. I thought that for the longest time but the truth was even worse. He was a traitor as far as I was concerned, but to our own kind. He actually worked for the Syndicate; he was their twisted Front Man, the guy they sent in when they found possible Emergents. He used his Dominator powers to get them to trust him, then he set them up.
But Declan was even more twisted than that. Sometime before I went to Section Four, he’d actually taken over. The man in charge, Mr. Zero---the badass facility administrator---was actually Declan, using another Dominator to create an illusion. The real Mr. Zero, aka Peter Zarkov, had been dead for weeks. Declan was trying to convert us into his own personal, punishment squad, against the wishes of Jason Carson, his father. It failed miserably. The last time I saw the bastard was tied to a chair in one of the rooms on the second floor. But of course, he escaped. I ran into him again about a month later at Section One. He sniped the facility administrator there, Grayson Phillips, while my team and I were interrogating him.
Declan got away again and now here he was in all his smug glory.
“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you,” I snapped.
“Don’t talk to him like that, you bitch” snapped Jasmine angrily, fumbling with her flashlight, ready to give me a blast.
She snapped it on, the beam lancing through the darkness and hitting me in the arm. I screamed out in pain, rolling to the back of the cot. Declan growled and backhanded Jasmine, sending her backwards off the crates. The flashlight fell to the ground and rolled into the corner. Jasmine recovered, clutching her face. Declan ignored her, walked over and picked up the maglite. He clicked it off then smashed it against the wall, scattering the front end of it. He tossed the useless thing at Jasmine’s feet. The blue haired bitch glared at him as she rubbed her bruised cheek.
“I’m sorry about her” he said, “She’s not properly house trained.”
Jasmine gave both of us a look. Then she jumped off the crates. “I’m going to see if Tobias needs any help.”
She didn’t wait for any acknowledgment as she opened the door and stormed out, allowing it to bang loudly as she did so.
Declan sighed. “She’s a bit difficult but you’ll get used to her.”
I scoffed. “I don’t think I’m going to be here for that long.”
He walked over to the crates and sat on the edge of them. When he sat down, he crossed his legs over one another, sorta like a woman would do. I guess you can take the girl out of the boy but. He smiled sweetly at me. “I don’t think you’ve fully come to terms with the situation here. You see, I set this whole thing up so that you’d come back to me.”
“Come back to you” I said, shocked. “You never had me.”
He smirked again. “Maybe not in your sense of the word but surely you must have known that there was no way I’d let you wander around in this world without me. You had your fun, you made your new friends but know it’s time to return home, to your real family.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
This time he looked shocked. But it only lasted for a second. Then he sighed. “Clearly you have been in the dark for far too long.” He reached out for me, in an attempt to pat my knee or something. I pulled back, keeping to the wall. There was no way I was going to let that scum touch me. He sighed again. “It’s kinda cliché but I guess I can tell you the truth of it all.”
“What truth?”
“You never got away from me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He smiled. “Everything. It was all a part of the plan.” He took a nail file out of his pocket and started filing his nails. I looked at them, they were on the girlish side and if I wasn’t mistaken, they were a light shade of pink. What the hell is wrong with this guy? “You and your friends actually thought you stopped me and escaped the Syndicate and I let you think that. But in truth, I let you escape. I needed you to get to the Center; I needed you inside for me.”
I laughed. “You’re crazy. You didn’t help us, we escaped on our own.”
He smiled. “All the doors were unlocked, yes?”
“Barry did that.”
“The security was running around in chaos?”
“The Deviants were the cause of that.”
“The Chips were deactivated and the Deviants were creating a great deal of chaos.”
I wavered when I spoke. “Barry deactivated the Chips.”
Declan smiled. “Barry deactivated yours and Holly’s. The others were never chipped in the first place. It was all a part of the plan. I needed to let my father think the chips were faulty so he’d cancel the project and stop the experimentations. We don’t need to be controlled and locked in cages. We’re Gods among men, far superior to humans. He wanted to stem all that, he wanted to make us into puppets then when we were done he was going to cure us.”
He said that last bit with a sneer. He got to his feet and started pacing. “Can you imagine it, going back to a world without these glorious gifts of ours? Mind you, this male form is hideous but that’s only cosmetic…easily changeable. But my powers, I can’t live without those. You see I had to do it. The chips were working…you were proof of that…and the cure, his precious cure, they were days away from perfecting it.”
I was floored. They had a cure, something that could have changed us back. I’m not sure how to respond to that. Declan seemed to notice the look on my face and he smiled.
“You see, you don’t want to give it up either. You like being a God, you like being better than everyone else. Who wouldn’t; right? Don’t you see, they’re jealous of us; they crave what they can’t have. Do you know what my father is doing at that Facility X of his?”
I shook my head. “He’s taking us and he’s trying to see what makes us tick. Then he drags us into laboratories, slices us open and takes out our glorious gifts. He calls it Project Hercules; he’s trying to create a super soldier. He’s trying to combine the best of the best into one being, a Super Emergent. He’s got an island somewhere, a secluded little place where he’s dragging the best of the best and pitting them against one another. The winner gets to become a part of his little experiment and the losers; well you don’t want to know.”
I bit my lip. So that’s what he was up to. I had to admit it was kind of sick and crazy. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Declan snapped around, tears in his eyes. “We have to stop him, you and I. I’ve started to gather others, people like Jasmine and Tobias. We’re small right now but I’m finding more, every day we’re growing stronger. When I have enough of us, I’m going to take Facility X and burn it to the ground. Then I’m going to march on my father and make him pay for what he’s been doing to our kind.”
I nodded. It was a sound plan but it was crazy. Declan was crazy. It would never work. We weren’t meant for this kind of thing. We might be great and some of us very powerful but Carson had an army, there were probably hundreds of Syndicate facilities all over the country, possibly the world. There was no way to fight something like that. Declan must have known that. At least he should have known that. The old Declan would have. This guy before me---this shell of his former self---was clearly a little unhinged.
“That’s a great plan” I finally confessed “but we can’t do it without help. Why don’t you let me go and I’ll contact my people, The Center has resources, they can help.”
“No” he snapped. “I’m not getting in bed with the government. Your precious Center is just like the rest. They’re using you too, turning you into good little soldiers to fight Uncle Sam’s battles for them. They’re just going about it differently. Once I’m done with my father and his Syndicate, I’m going after them next. No one should control Gods.”
I nodded. He was definitely gone now. The Declan I knew was history. I bit my lip. I had to get out of here, this guy was too unstable. The others followed him but they were just as nuts as he was. I looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything I could use. Besides the boxes and the cot I was sitting on there was nothing? I looked at the broken flashlight on the floor. I suppose I could use it as a club and smack him when he wasn’t looking but to what end. If he touched me then I was a goner, a slave to his power. Even if I managed to avoid that there was a little problem of getting through a very badly lit place with other E’s out there, probably as crazy as he was.
I sighed, defeated. For the moment, there was nothing to do but sit here and wait. Surely someone must have noticed I was gone by now. It would only be a matter of time that is if they had a way of tracking me. But maybe there was still a chance. Maybe if I kept him talking. There were some things that I still wanted answers too after all.
“Why all this?” I asked, he stopped pacing and turned to face me. “Why drag me out here? Why the whole Dekker thing?”
He smiled. He looked calmer now. He walked back over to the boxes and sat down, crossing his legs again. Yeah, this guy isn’t nuts or anything.
“You’ve been having dreams about him. You’ve been obsessing about him. I knew I needed to get you away from those people so I set this little venture up to get you out in the open.”
How did he know? Realization dawned; it was the traitor. I glared at him. “Who is it? Who’s the bastard that’s been selling us out to you?”
He smirked. “Surely you’re not that stupid. It’s been right under your nose the whole time.” He laughed at my cluelessness. “You see back in Section Four, I needed to see if you were ok, I needed to make sure that my little foster brother was adjusting to life as my new little sister so I sent someone to make sure you were all right.”
The color drained from my face. No, it can’t be.
“He was reluctant at first but I was able to persuade him it was for the good of the mission. So our mutual friend made his move…it was kind of cute, inviting you to the movie like that.”
Tears were streaming down my face. It couldn’t be; it wasn’t possible. “You’re lying” I sobbed, shaking my head.
He smirked. He pulled a phone out of his pocket. “You can come in now.”
I snapped to the door, anger and sorrow molding into one. When the door opened up and Barry stepped through, there was a fire inside of me. He looked right at me but his eyes couldn’t meet mine. He looked guilty but I didn’t care.
“Becca, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for…”
I never let him finish. I snapped up and flew at him. My punch hit him square in the face, I think I heard bone crack. My next blow went into his gut. He stumbled backwards, falling into the door. I screamed at the top of my lungs and started kicking, tears streaming down my face. Barry fell to the ground, groaning but he made no move to fight back.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH” I screamed. “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!”
There was a sharp biting pain in the back of my neck. I’m not sure how I felt it but suddenly I felt really woozy. I snapped around and saw Declan standing behind me, holding a syringe. He smiled sadly. I stumbled, falling into his arms.
“It took me a while to figure out a dose large enough to take you down. After all those darts that my men fired at you when you escaped Section Four were worthless. I’m glad to say that I think I found the perfect ratio” I glared up at him, my vision starting to blur. “Don’t give me that look. You were far too irrational and emotional to talk to, it was necessary. When you get a little rest, you and I can talk again.”
I reached up, trying to grab for his neck but my arms felt like dead weights. “You bastard” I slurred then slumped unconscious in his arms.
______________________________
When I woke up again the first thing I noticed were that my hands were securely fastened to something. I opened my eyes and groaned, tugging a bit. The room was dark but it definitely wasn’t the same one. I blinked my eyes, trying to work off the fogginess of whatever drug Declan nailed me with. My vision was still a bit blurry and my head felt like someone had just smacked me with a brick. I had cottonmouth too, and my whole body seemed to ache, most likely the pain I’d been suppressing from earlier. I think I severely bruised my hand when I punched Barry in the face. Which given the circumstances I could definitely live with.
I struggled some more. The bed I was on was much more comfortable than the cot though. It looked like one of those hospital beds; it has the bars on the side and everything. Through the darkness, my vision was able to make out the room as a whole. It was much bigger and seemed to be an actual room, modified to keep someone in, though. There were bars on the only window, no knob on this side of the door and the only vent seemed to be securely bolted, from the other side. It had minimal furniture too: a dresser in the corner and a chair by the bed, both of which looked bolted to the floor too. Clearly, someone had gone to great lengths to keep me in here.
In a way it was kinda flattering, it made me think that they were that worried I’d run away. But it also pissed me off too; it meant that they weren’t that serious, either. All that talk about wanting me to join them and help them take down both the Syndicate and the Center. Declan had a lot of talk but in the end he still handcuffed me to the bed. Which meant he wasn’t as trusting of me as he pretended to be. But then again he wasn’t all that great with trust either. Neither were his cronies for that matter, especially Barry. How many months had I been with him…too many to count and this whole time….
Tears started to well in my eyes. I struggled again, the cuffs cutting into my wrists. But of course, I didn’t feel it. When I got out of this, I was going to kill them all.
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Why someone bothered to knock was beyond me. I listened as the person behind it fumbled with the lock on the other side. It was a smaller person, a girl I think. I caught a whiff of perfume. I caught something else too; her heart was beating a mile a minute, indicating she was either really excited or really scared. I perked up as the door opened and a person slipped into the room. She was about five foot max with long dark hair and olive colored skin. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, carrying a pile of clothes. She tried not to look at me but curious got the better of her. When she looked over, I noticed a pair of sparkling blue eyes.
“I brought you some clothes,” she said in a soft voice, blushing at the fact that I was still in my underwear.
I nodded. “You don’t seem the type to be one of Declan’s cronies?”
It was true. This girl was meek and shy; she didn’t belong in this place. Compared to Declan and jasmine, this girl belonged with a loving family.
The girl bobbed her head. “They’re good to me. They took me in when my family…”
Tears welled in her eyes. She dropped the clothes at the foot of my bed then turned quickly and made for the door. She stopped before leaving and turned to face me. I could tell there was something she wanted to ask me, something important. She opened her mouth to do so when a hand landed on her shoulder from behind. She flinched and then all the emotion drained from her face. The shy, meek girl was gone, replaced by a stone-faced automaton. The girl nodded to me, her eyes glassed over. Then she turned and walked out of the room. Declan strode into the room, smirking.
“You have to forgive Diana, she sometimes loses herself.”
I was spitting mad. “You son of a bitch, you didn’t have to do that to her.”
I pulled and tugged on my cuffs. He ignored me, walking over and grabbing the chair. He dragged it across the floor and over to my bedside. He sat down, crossing his legs again. “You and I got off on the wrong foot earlier. Here I was trying to make you feel welcome and I went and upset you.” He sighed. “You will be happy to know that I’ve ordered Barry to stay away from you for the remainder of your time here.”
I scoffed. “Ordered or controlled?”
He ignored me with a wave of his hand. Then he smiled. “That’s what I’ve always loved about you; you go right for the throat. That’s why I need you so badly around here. The others are great and all but they’re not throat grabbers like you. You’ve got balls---figuratively of course. You’re not afraid to kick someone when they’re down and you’ll keep us honest.”
“I’m not joining your militia or whatever the hell this is.”
He ignored me again. “I’ve been reading Barry’s reports, Staff Sergeant. They’re quite impressive. This team of yours is most impressive as well. I’d really like to meet the other members given the chance, especially this Stella friend of yours. Her abilities would be most appreciated around here.”
My anger flared again and lunged for him, the cuffs keeping me restrained. “You leave her alone you son of a bitch.”
He smirked. “You and I don’t have to be enemies. You will find that working for me, cooperatively, is a lot better than the alternative.”
This time I smirked. “Is that the only way you can get friends now, Declan? By making them obey you.”
I saw a tinge of anger flare across his face. But it disappeared quickly to be replaced by that smug smile of his again. Instead of responding, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone again. “Send her in please.”
He clicked the phone shut, slipping it back into his pocket. I heard footfalls coming toward the room; it was two people. I snapped toward the door and watched as two people entered. One was a kid with red spiked hair; the other was a blonde girl. At first, I didn’t recognize the girl, because she was looking down. But as soon as she raised her head, I gasped. It was Emma. She was dressed in a black tank top and a pair of tight leather black pants. When she looked at me, there was this moment where our eyes locked. I could see it in her eyes, the real her, screaming to get out. But the rest of her, the girl standing before me was a puppet for her master.
I snapped around to Declan, sneering. “What the fuck have you done to her?”
He smiled. “Emma here is a great asset. Someone with her raw power was wasted being a lackey of the Center. So I liberated her and now she’s joined the good fight. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Emma walked over to Declan, swaying her hips like a slut. She sat on his knee, wrapping her arms around his neck. Then she gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “That’s right, Deckie baby.” Her voice came out sounding like a bimbo.
I stared at her, trying to figure out when he’d gotten her. Then my mind flashed back to the nightclub. Emma was jealous of Samson and Kit and she went off to the dance floor. I groaned. She’d been dancing with a blonde guy, one who had his back to me. Declan had been in the club. My fists clenched in anger. He was in the club and I never saw him. I’d been so pissed at Barry that I completely ignored what was right in front of me. What’s worse, Declan took her right from under my nose. Brad’s face came into my head, too. He’d stopped me, asking me if I’d seen his sister. Oh God, Declan probably had her by then. Damn it, why had I been such a bitch to him.
“Emma, can you hear me?”
Emma giggled, playing with a strand of her hair, completely oblivious to me. I glared at Declan. He smiled. “Emma, sweetie, why don’t you tell Becca here how happy you are now.”
She turned to me and smiled. “I’m wonderful Becky. I love living here and working with Deckie. He’s the nicest guy and guess what; he says I can help him. We’re going to take down some really bad people and I’m integral to his plan.”
This personality change was too good, even for Declan. For a second I thought maybe she’d been chipped, except her eyes gave it away. She was still in there, still struggling for control. This was something else, something different.
“What did you do to her?”
He smiled. “Me I didn’t do anything.” He sighed. “After you and your cohorts left me to rot tied to that chair, I had some time to think. As the building was burning all around me, I came to an epiphany. I’m a really powerful Dominator but there are probably a whole lot more out there just like me, some even more powerful, perhaps. So after I managed to tip the chair over and burn off the cord you fools tied me up with, I slipped out in all the chaos. I disappeared for a while, bidding my time. Then I contacted Barry. The two of us had this system, sending fake spam mail, it was quite creative actually. He was the guy responsible for helping the Syndicate find Emerged or Potentials before you two escaped. He was supposed to be doing the same for the Center but he also fed some to me. So I went and investigated”
He took a breath. “I found a girl named Veronica. She had great potential, already exhibiting her wonderful gift. She was like me, a Dominator. When the change happened, she became even more powerful. You see, Miles, as he likes to be called now, is a super Dominator. With just one little thought, he can make you do anything he wants. It’s quite impressive really. He was happy to join the cause. After that it wasn’t too hard, especially after we hooked up with that bitch Strickland.”
Strickland, I groaned. She was the woman who kidnaped Emma.
“You were involved in that?”
He shrugged. “Behind the scenes. She thought she was working for the Syndicate but it was actually for me. I convinced her that by gathering her Emerged that she was actually making a difference, helping to fight the good fight.” He laughed. “She actually thought she was working for my father.” Then she groaned. “Who would have thought she’d get a backbone and call him? He sent his pet psychiatrist to investigate and then your team showed up. I suppose it was only a matter of time before the Center got involved. When you guys shut that place down it set me back a few months though, I had to recruit some new faces as well, except for Tobias of course. It was then though that I realized you were too much of a threat on the opposite side of things. So that’s when I put Operation Dekker into play. After Barry told me you were having nightmares about him, he was only too happy to help create a false paper trail.”
I groaned. It made sense, I suppose. Barry was the one who found the information on the school and Dekker’s supposed involvement in it. But I still felt like an ass falling for it. I guess he had us all fooled. But there was still one thing I wanted to know. “Where’s the real Dekker?”
Declan smiled. “Still after revenge, I see?” He leaned over and gently stroked my cheek; I pulled my face away. “Don’t worry. As soon as we get over this little bump, I’ll help you find him; I’ll even let you pull the trigger. It’s the least I can do, if it makes you loyal to me.”
I scoffed. I don’t care if the bastard gave me Dekker’s head on a platter there was no way I was ever going to join his merry band of nut jobs. I think he noticed my smirk. His eyes narrowed and he sighed. He patted Emma on the butt and she slipped off his lap, giggling. I couldn’t look at her; it pained me to see what this bastard had done to my friend. He was already going to pay for that. He’d pay for the rest of it too as soon as I got out of here.
“I’ll give you some time to think it” He stood up and stretched. “Why don’t I let you get dressed? I’ll send someone with food and after you’ve had some time to think, I’ll come back and see if you’re willing to cooperate with us.”
He reached into his pocket and took out the key. He was about to hand it to me but stopped. Instead, he turned and placed it in Emma’s hands. “Sweetie, undo her handcuffs but watch out. She’s a wily one.”
He turned to the spike headed kid and nodded. He looked around the room once more, then the two of them left, leaving me alone with the brainwashed Emma. She walked over to me and undid my cuffs. I didn’t waste any time. I snapped to my feet and ran for the door. She was on me pretty quick. She put her hand on my shoulder and yanked me back. I flew back through the room, crashing into the bed. I didn’t feel a thing but I knew I would later. I slowly got to my feet and made another go at it. It was futile because like I’ve said before Emma is a powerhouse, but I had to try. Unfortunately, for me, she was quick and put herself between me and the door.
“Emma” I said, trying to see if I could get to her. “I’m Becca, you remember me, don’t you?” She shook her head, I sighed. “We’re really good friends. I helped bring you and your brother in; I rescued you from a place just like this one. There was a woman there, nasty one named Dr. Strickland. She was going to do horrible experiments on you.”
She continued to stare. “Deckie said you’d say stupid things to me,” She giggled. “I don’t have a brother, the only family I have is right here.”
I groaned. What the hell did they do to her? I could see the real her, hiding behind those bright beautiful eyes. But there was no way to get to her. Damn it. “You’re being controlled, you idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot.”
I groaned. This was pointless. Even if I managed to defeat her, there were at least six people on the other side of that door. Who knows how many more? Plus I’m sure it was light out there, too light for me. I groaned. But I couldn’t just sit here and continue to deny him. Eventually he’d send that Miles kid in for me too and then I was really screwed. I’d probably end up like Malibu Rock Head here or worse. I shuddered at the thought. Then bit my lip. It would only be a matter of time before someone would come looking for me. So the way I saw it was either escape or play along. Escaping sounded like a crazy thing to do at the moment so that left only one thing to do.
I smiled sweetly at her. “You’re right, you’re not an idiot” Her smile spread wide and she giggled. I sighed. “I need to get dressed and I’m really hungry.”
She giggled and I rolled my eyes. “I’ll have some food brought.” She walked over and wrapped me in a big hug. “You and I are going to be the best of friends, I know it.”
I pushed away but not before slipping the handcuff key out of the dummy’s pocket.
She didn’t notice. She gave a little wave and then slipped out of the room, locking the door behind her. As soon as the door was shut, I searched the room. I was sure there was a hidden camera somewhere so it didn’t matter if I was caught doing this or not. I pulled the blankets off the bed and flipped the mattress. Then I ran over to the dresser, pulling out all the drawers. If I fell into line right away, Declan would know I was fucking with him. So I needed to make it look like I was still defiant. After pulling out all the drawers one by one, I grabbed one and threw it at the barred window. The drawer shattered on the bars. I picked up another and threw it at the door, screaming for good measure.
I broke the other drawers too, stomping on one and throwing the last few at the walls. I needed to work myself up to make it look like I was pissed off. I thrashed about for a good twenty minutes, feeling like a complete idiot. Finally, I collapsed to the ground, huffing and puffing. That wasn’t an act; I was exhausted. After that, I slowly crawled over to the clothes that were now all over the floor and slowly put them on. The pants were tight and black, like Emma’s but not leather. The shirt was a tank top but purple. I think someone was trying to make me feel right at home. There were no shoes though so I got the impression I wasn’t going to be leaving this room anytime soon.
When I got dressed, I stood up and stuck my hands in my pockets. In the left pocket, there was something small and metal. I wrapped my hand around it and pulled it out. It was my Dekker bullet, I had it in my little clutch purse at the club. Barry---the Rat---must have told Declan about it. He probably thought it would help me feel more secure or something. Anger flared inside of me and I thought about tossing it away. But something stopped me. My revenge had been boiling and festering for a long time now but right now, it didn’t seem to matter. Yes, I still wanted to kill the bastard but now was hardly the time to think about it.
After getting dressed, I took a breather and slowly put the room back together. The drawers were trashed but everything else was ok. I sat on the bed and sighed. I lay down, the pain from earlier slowly coming to me. I winced as it crawled up my back, sending jolts of discomfort. God, she was really strong. I made a mental note not to piss Emma off in the future. That’s right the future. I had every intention of getting her and me out of this crazy nut house.
There was a knock on the door again. I listened and heard the same beating heart and smelled the same perfume. It was the girl from before, Diana. I sat up and the door opened. Diana came into the room, carrying a tray with some food on it. She looked about, seeing the splintered wood all over the place. Then she quickly set the tray on the end of the bed and made it for the door again. Out of all of the people here, she might be the only one I could get through too.
“Wait” I said, stopping her. “What’s your name?”
“We’re not supposed to talk to you’ she said softly.
I nodded. “Telling me your name isn’t really talking to me.”
She nodded. “I’m Diana. I used to be Charles, before all of this.”
I nodded. “What are you doing here?”
Tears started to well in her eyes. “They came for me at school. They told me that they were different from other people and that I was like them. I’m not sure how they knew but I could tell they were different. That’s my thing. Once I Changed, I can sense it. That’s how I know you have Enhanced senses. It’s like this switch gets clicked on when I look at you.”
“That’s an awesome gift”
It was, too. It scared me to think that Declan had someone like her on his side.
She smiled. “I can sense it before people change too. That’s how we found Jasmine and Katrina.”
“How many are there of you here?”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you. They’ll do horrible things to me if I help you.” She started crying.
I got up off the bed, making my way over to hug her. But she jumped back, moving toward the door. I saw it then. This girl was being abused by them. I could see it in her eyes and the way she was trembling. I saw no visible marks on her but there many different kinds of abuse. Looking at her, my anger started to flare again. How could they do this? I thought Declan was all about his kind and not harming them. Clearly, this girl was being used, probably against her will. It pissed me off to no end.
“If you help me,” I said, taking a chance. “If you help me get out of here, I can take you with me. I come from a place, a place not like this one. There’s a lot of us there, hundreds of us now. We call it the Center and there they don’t treat us like crap.”
She was still crying but her eyes widened. “Really?” I nodded. “Do you think they’d hurt me there?”
“No sweetie” I said, walking over and putting my hands on her shoulders. “They’d treat you the way you were meant to be treated, like a human being.”
She smiled. She opened her mouth to say something else when I heard someone coming. He was fast and quiet. I didn’t even hear him until he was in the doorway. His hand snapped around, hitting Diana across the face. She fell into the room, landing on her side. The guy belonging to the hand was huge; probably six foot four at the most. He filled the doorway. He had slicked back red hair and a tattoo of a dragon on his face. He was one serious looking son of a bitch.
“That was unnecessary,” I said, standing and glaring at him.
He looked me up and down. “You don’t look like much.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
He smirked, raised his hands. Both his forearms burst into flames. Pyrokinetics, I hate these guys. “You want to dance, little girl?”
Diana got to her feet. “Brock, don’t. She was just asking me about her food.”
The big guy, Brock, glared down at her. “We saw it all on the camera.”
The color drained from Diana’s face. Brock smirked. He reached for her but I batted his hand away.
“Leave her alone, it’s my fault. If you want to deal out the pain, give it to me.”
“You’ll get the pain soon enough, bitch” He put one of his flaming hands on my forearm.
I didn’t feel a thing but I saw the flesh begin to burn. He gave me a shove, pushing me into the room. I tripped over my own feet because the floor was too slippery without any shoes on. I landed on my side. Brock deflamed his arms and grabbed Diana by the hair, pulling her from the room. She screamed at the top of her lungs, kicking and crawling at him. I jumped to my feet and charged him. He was already out the door by the time I got there, slamming it in my face.
I slammed my fists on the door, tears in my eyes as I heard Diana screaming down the hall and way. I slumped to the floor.
A few seconds later, there was a cackle and voice filled the room. “I had such high hopes for you, Becca. I actually thought you and I could come to some kind of agreement but it looks like you’d rather escape than play along.” He sighed; I looked around the room and found the intercom speaker. “I guess there’s no helping it, now. As soon as we’re done with our little insubordinate, I think it’s time you meet my friend Miles.”
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Twelve by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's 12...finally. I've been slowing down my writing a bit to keep myself from burning out. This one shouldn't disappoint though...there's a lot of good action here. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing.
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Chapter Twelve:
Son of a bitch. Diana still continued to scream as they dragged her off. I tried to block it out but it was too loud and shrill. She screamed for a long time and then it abruptly stopped. I bit my lip and clenched my fists, anything to stop from screaming out myself. Declan was a bastard. She was one of his own, someone vital to his operation. How could he treat her this way? I knew he’d snapped, but I never pegged him as being a psychopath. It made my blood boil. As soon as I got out of this room, I was going to find the bastard and smash his face in.
I heard them coming long before they got there. There were two of them, one large and heavy footed and the other light on his feet. It was two guys, I could tell by the smell of their body odor. One of them walked with a swagger so I had a good guess it was my friend from before, Brock. The other one was quick, bouncing about, his feet barely touching the ground. I tried to weight my options. They’d only dragged Diana off about ten minutes ago, I found it hard to believe they mind wiped her or whatever this quick. Diana was a good kid, if they did anything to hurt her so help me God I’d make all of them pay.
When they got to the door, I pressed myself against the wall. The door opened and light streamed into the room. I acted out of pure desperation; it was the only thing I had left. I struck out at the first body that came inside. Unfortunately, it was only half effective because the door was still wide open. I did manage to deliver a blow to his head though. It was the big bastard from before, Brock. He staggered and stumbled into the room, collapsing on the floor. For all his talk, he was kind of a lightweight. The other guy on the other hand, not so much. After Brock went down, he leapt into the room like a fricking monkey or something.
He went for the far wall, only lightly touching it with the tips of his toes before he spun in the air and came back at me. He caught me off guard, slamming his outstretched fists into my chest as I was turning to face him. I stumbled, half falling into the light still streaming into the room. I let out a startled scream, pulling my arm quickly out of the scorching UV. The son of a bitch landed lightly on his feet and spun in place, snapping his leg around, hitting me in the side of the head with a kick so fast I didn’t even see it coming.
I went down, hard.
I landed on top of Brock, who groaned. The wily guy came at me again, dropping a heel toward my face. I rolled out of way, his kick connected with the small of his downed partner’s back. Brock moaned some more. Me, I rolled to my feet. It was the kid with the red spiked hair. I think I remember hearing something about him from Brad. There was an incident where Dr. Strickland sent some of her thugs to acquire him and Emma at a motel they were staying at. There were three of them I think. Brad fought them off; one of them was a kid with red spiky hair. I think he said something about the kid being too light on his feet, bouncing about like a freak.
I spit blood from my mouth. “You’re the one who tried to get my friends?”
He smirked, bouncing on his feet like a boxer. “And you’re the famed Becca Howe. Dec talks about you all the time” He smirked again. “I was expecting a little more.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
There were too many things that could go wrong here. For one thing, I had to make sure Diana was ok. I’d only known the girl for a few minutes but there was no way I could let these bastards hurt her any more. The other reason for my imminent escape: I had to get Emma and myself out of this place, away from the Dominator and his range of control. I’m not sure why he hadn’t put the whammy on me but I assume it had to be a proximity thing. All the Dominators I faced in the past–save Melanie Crane---all had to be fairly close for their power to work properly. I’m not sure how he was controlling Emma. Maybe he had to have physical contact first, why else would these guys be here to bring him to me.
I went at him. It was a feint, something to throw him off, a straight punch. He danced away from it just like I thought he might. It gave me time to come at him with my left knee. When he was dodging the punch, I drove my knee into his side. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. He rolled away from it, wincing. I caught him in my other leg, driving a blow into his right calf. He dropped and then I landed another blow to his throat. It wasn’t fatal but it would sure put him out of commission for a while. He fell to the ground, gasping for air. For all his fancy footwork, I was the far superior fighter, the only thing he had going for him was his speed.
Brock grumbled and slowly pushed himself off the floor. He looked around a bit, saw his unconscious buddy and looked around. I spun on him and laid a punch into his face, bone cracked and his head snapped back. Once again, not a fatal blow but it served the purpose of rendering him unconscious again. I prodded him with my foot a few times to make sure he was really out then I went rifling through his pockets. He didn’t have much: a carton of cigarettes, a lighter and some hard candy. All of it useless except the lighter, I took that. I went over to Bouncy Boy and checked his pockets too. I found his wallet, flipping it open and laughed: Tobias Funk. He definitely gave himself that name. I tossed the wallet aside and checked the rest of his pockets.
Jackpot, I found a set of keys. Now to get out of here. I turned to the door and grimaced. Light was still pouring it, far too much for me to go into. But I finally got an idea of where I was. I could see a white wall beyond and floor looked to be linoleum. Which meant I was probably in some place similar to Section Four, possibly a lab? I wonder how Declan pulled that one off. I moved closer to the door, daring a peek. I couldn’t get too far because of the deadly UV but I was able to catch a glance of a window further down, it was boarded up. So, if this was a Syndicate facility, it was definitely a former one. Maybe it was an acquired property of his father’s or something they abandoned like their main ones. I assumed I was still in England, I couldn’t imagine them dragging me elsewhere. I don’t think I was out long enough to be taken back to the States. Besides there’s no way we wouldn’t have known about this place state side, it looked big.
I stepped away from the door, cursing. So I took out my captors, great. But I was still a captive, not so great. I looked at the two guys on the floor and groaned. It was only a matter of time before they woke up again and I could only punch them unconscious for so long. I needed to get out of this place and fast. First, I needed to find something to cover myself with. I looked back at the guys, trying to see if I could any of their things. My best bet was Brock. He was a big guy, his shirt like a tent; I suppose I could cover my head with it. My arms would still be bare but it would be enough for me to get out of the room at least, maybe find some place to shut the power off. I bit my lip. It wasn’t the greatest plan but it was better than nothing. Besides it was only a matter of time before someone came running, they did have a camera in the room after all.
I moved quickly, flipping Brock on his side so I could easily work his shirt off. He was ripped, like a body builder. He smelled too, something horrible. It took everything I could not to throw up all over the place. His shirt smelled even worse as I pulled it over my head, turning it into a makeshift cover. His feet were too big for me but Tobias’ weren’t. He was a small guy so he had small feet. I took off his boots and slipped them on. They were a little big but not so big that they’d fall off my feet. With that done, I wandered back over to the door.
The shirt wouldn’t keep all the light off me but it would keep enough off until I could find a dark place to recover.
I took the deepest breath I could and rushed into the hall. Its funny how much you take something for granted until it’s gone. As much as the Second Skin chafed, I definitely forgot what it was like without it. As soon as the light hit my bare arms, the pain was unbearable. I nearly dropped to the floor in agony. I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming out, drawing blood. I stumbled along, using every bit of will power I had to keep from collapsing. It was hard going, a lot harder than I remembered. I was about halfway down the hall when I came upon the next door.
I threw myself against it but it wouldn’t budge. I cursed and fumbled with the stolen keys. I put one into the lock and turned but it wouldn’t open. I tried another and another. Finally, on the fourth key, there was a click and I stumbled into the room. Thankfully, it was dark inside. I shut the door quickly, falling to the floor. I pressed my back against it and started to pant heavily. There was no way I could do that again; it was too damn hard.
I pulled the shirt off my head and rubbed my sore, red arms. Luckily, I wasn’t in the light for too long so there was no permanent damage. My arms looked a little sunburned but other than that I think they were going to be ok. It was me that I was worried about. I’d only managed to get a little bit down the hall. It wouldn’t take long for them to figure that out. I had to find another way out of here. I couldn’t keep slinking from one room to the other in hopes of finding them dark and empty. There had to be another way, an easier way.
After finally catching my breath, I pushed myself to my feet. I took stock of this new room. It looked to be an office of some kind. There was a desk and a hard back chair. It had a filing cabinet in the corner, its drawers pulled open. There was a couch, too, and a window, thankfully with blinds. I rushed over to the desk, hoping I could something to use. I pulled open the side drawers first but there was nothing in there but a few gum wrappers and useless papers. Then I tried the top drawer. There was more of the same until my hand came across something thin and long. I pulled it out and smiled. A letter opener, score. It wasn’t the best weapon but it was better than nothing. It might be useful if I caught someone off guard and stabbed them in the arm or throat, someplace soft where I could do the most damage.
I went to the filing cabinet next but it was just as empty as the desk. I sighed; I guess the opener was the best I was going to do.
I looked at the window, wondering if I could chance a look. I inched slowly over, lifting the blinds slightly. I sighed in relief. The sun wasn’t out yet. I could see it rising in the distance but it was still too early for it to be fully up. Which meant it was probably early morning, around four or five am. Which also meant I’d only been here for about six or seven hours. I groaned; it felt longer than that. Then again, I had been unconscious twice already. Unless it was dawn on the following day.
I continued to stare out the window, trying to find some distinguishing landmark. The building was in the middle of nowhere apparently, woods all around. I think it was a couple of stories, looking down I saw at least three rows of windows below me. My room was facing the direction away from the entrance but in the far distance, I could clearly see the perimeter fence. I could see beyond it too, but there was nothing there but wilderness. This definitely felt like a Syndicate place: it was secluded, hard to get to and surrounded by natural made obstacles on all sides. Clearly, it was one of their lesser known places, probably a research lab or something.
A noise in the hall drew my attention from the window. I dropped to the ground quickly, crawling over to hide behind the desk. The noise was actually voices, two of them. It was two girls and they were moving fast, probably wondering where those two morons were.
“Son of a bitch” one of them said, it sounded like Jasmine.
I think they just found my handiwork.
“She took them out. I can’t believe she got both Brock and Tobias,” said the other girl.
“Don’t stand there gawking, go get backup. Make sure one of them is that new girl” snapped Jasmine.
“You can’t possibly think you can take her by yourself”
“Shut up and go,” snapped Jasmine and other girl ran off.
So it was just me and Jasmine now. Good, I wanted to pay the little bitch back for earlier. I slid around to the other side of the desk and listened. She was moving down the hall, walking slowly. I hated going into these things not knowing what I was up against but if she had a kinetic power, I was in for a long fight. I didn’t do too badly against guys like me, people with less active powers. It was the big guns I had problems with, the guys and girls who can shoot lightning and throw fireballs. Trust me; I’ve had my problems with those. I had a particularly hard time with a psycho Aerokinetic named Natasha back when we were trying to bust out of the Syndicate. If it wasn’t for my friend Chloe, I’d probably not be here right now.
She was moving further down the hall, getting closer and closer. She was wearing different boots now, these ones had a stiletto heel I could hear tapping as she walked. I now knew that the girl was a definite poser. I’m not sure why I thought she was such a kindred spirit before, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was whatever she slipped into my drink before. Now that my head was clear and I realized who she was working with I just knew she was the biggest fake out there. She tried too hard to be whoever she was pretending to be. It was a combination of the clothes, piercings and makeup, it was too much. It was like she was trying to get noticed, maybe even by me.
“I know you’re here somewhere,” she said aloud, moving slowly closer to my hiding spot. “I can feel you. I can feel all that doubt and frustration and the fear. You reek of it.”
Feel me? Oh, Son of a bitch, another Empath. Ok so I only knew a few and most of them were really good friends of mine. But to actually have to face one…I could only groan. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. She could find me by my emotions. I took a deep breath, trying to remain as calm as possible.
Jasmine laughed. “That’s not going to work,” she said, moving closer. “In fact, I think you’re feeling really scared about now.”
Something came over me, something overwhelming. My breathing came out really fast and my heart started beating like a drum. I started to sweat and I got this overwhelming feeling of dread. Images came into my head, horrible images. I kept seeing Dekker coming toward me and laughing, shooting me over and over again. I tried to fight him off but I couldn’t. I tried to fight off the feelings but they wouldn’t go away. I was terrified and it was controlling me. I crumbled into a ball on the ground, pulling my legs to my head and started to sob. The images of Dekker disappeared to be replaced by images of Trish, she was laughing, laughing at me. She was telling me I was a disgrace and she didn’t want me. Then she opened a door behind her and let Dr. Orange into the room.
Outside my head, Jasmine stopped but I didn’t pay attention. I heard the door open and light flooded into the room. I barely felt the sting from it. She walked over to me and looked down at me like an adult would a child. I turned and looked up, tears in my eyes. She looked huge, like a giant with bright blue hair and nasty spiked heels.
“Did you think you could hide from me, you little bitch?”
She reached for me, her hand changing into a wicked claw and I screamed.
_________________________________
When I opened my eyes, I was in a different room. I groaned, the fogginess slowly starting to fade away. I waited for it to disappear before I looked around. This room was similar to the last one, except it had no window and there didn’t seem to be any other furniture besides the bed I was laying on and the chair in the corner. I ignored the chair for a moment because I wasn’t ready to acknowledge the person sitting in it. Instead, I tried to think about what just happened. She did something to me, something horrible. It was foggy at best but I think she got into my head, throttling me with my own fears. My thoughts instantly went to Melanie but what Jasmine did was completely different.
“Becca, you ok?” said the voice of the person I was ignoring.
I didn’t turn toward him when I finally answered. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought Declan said he’d keep you away from me.”
Barry sighed, dragging the chair closer to my bed. I would have lashed out at him but my hands were cuffed to the bed like before. He rubbed his temples. He didn’t look so good. I’m not saying he was physically tortured but he definitely looked like he was under a lot of stress. I wonder if Declan’s precious Dominator did a number on my ex-boyfriend. Not that I’d shed a tear for Barry anymore but no one deserved that. I felt a pang as I looked at him though, I couldn’t help it. A part of me still cared for him even if he was a dirty traitor.
“I’ve got some time before anyone notices,” he said, lowering his voice. “I disabled the security cameras in this room. I needed to see you; I want to explain some things.” I scoffed but he continued as if he didn’t notice. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, it was the last thing I wanted to do. But you have to understand where this comes from. Things were different when we came up with our plan…things were complicated.”
“Complicated? You made chips to control people.”
He nodded. “They were promising things back then. They told us if we used our powers to help them then they’d cure us” He sighed. “I wanted more than anything to be a girl again, Declan and Beatrice felt the same.”
At the mention of her name, I groaned. Of course, Bea would be involved in their crazy plan. “What about Mattie?”
He shook his head. “Matt was different than us. When he got there, he was already dressed like a girl. When he changed, it was like the greatest thing in the world. I’ve never seen a more happy kid. He was on cloud nine. It didn’t even bother him when they started to run their cruel experiments on us.” I smiled, I knew some about Mattie’s past but I was glad she wasn’t involved in all this craziness. “Declan hated every minute of it. He played along like a good little soldier but on the inside, he was seething. You have to understand that in the beginning he was all passion and fire. It was hard not to follow him. After we were there for only a few months, he was already coming up with an escape plan. The only one not privy to it was Mattie, he said we could clue her in when it got closer to the actual escape.”
Barry sighed. He looked over at the door for a second then continued. “But we needed time and more people. That’s why it took us a few years to get around to the actual plan. More people started showing up and Declan decided to work them in or not. It was easy to sway Beatrice’s cronies to fall into line, but the others not so much. Max was a wild card, so was Donnie. Holly and Chloe were not really important; we figured they’d fall into line as soon as the escape happened. Then Clara showed up, shortly followed by you. Things changed when you showed up, Declan changed. He’d already replaced Zero and was now in charge but his whole plan changed when you came.”
That sent shivers up my spine. Why the hell was I so important?
“I think he was in love with you. For the first time, he started talking about a girl like she was a person he could love. When he found out that little Ricky was one of us, his whole outlook changed. He wanted you in the scheme of things. He became obsessed with you. He started setting up things to test you, to make sure you were worthy or something. For the first time he didn’t care about the cure, it was like he accepted his male self and all he wanted was a girl to spend the rest of his life with.”
I threw up a little in my mouth. There was no way I was going to let Declan do any of those things to me. “You used me?”
He sighed and nodded. “That’s how it was at first. He sent me to your room, made me tell you it was Mattie. He wanted me to keep an eye you, to make sure that no one else got close to you so that you could be all his.” Barry sighed. “Falling in love with you wasn’t a part of the plan.”
Love? My heart skipped a beat. It was only for a second but it was there nonetheless. He loved me. For a second I couldn’t find the right words. I opened my mouth and closed it just as quickly. I took a few seconds to father my thoughts then spoke. “I think I might have been in love with you, too.”
There, I said it.
He smiled. But I shook my head. “I said I might have been. Then you betrayed me. If you were so in love with me you should have warned me, you could have stopped this.” The anger rose in my voice. I didn’t feel anything toward him anymore, except maybe wanting to throttle him. “You led me into a trap Barry. Do you realize what that bastard wants to do to me? Have you seen Emma? He’s going to do the same thing to me. It’s the BMC all over again. Do you really want that?”
Barry groaned and got to his feet. He started pacing the room, mumbling to himself. For the first time I noticed the bandage across his face, over his nose. A small smile came to my lips. So I did break it. But at the same time, I felt a little guilty too. Yeah I know he’s a traitor but I guess I overreached when I punched him so hard. Yes, he deserved it but it ruined his pretty face now.
He stopped pacing and bit his lip. “Maybe I can get you out of here.”
That peeked my interest. Was this another ploy? I scoffed. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a lot of them and only two of us?”
He sighed. “I know it won’t be easy, especially with Jasmine and Miles. She can project emotions at people, that’s how she took you down before. But there are ways around that.”
I nodded. “What about Miles? Last I checked the only way to stop a Dominator is to get them before they get you.”
Barry didn’t look so confident anymore. He looked like someone just socked him in the gut. I could see him trying to think things through. After a few minutes though, I saw a smile form on his face. “We’ll have to give them a distraction.”
Before I could say anything, he rushed over to the corner of the room, a place I couldn’t see because I was still strapped down to the bed. As much as I believed him---which wasn’t much---he had yet to un-cuff me, which was kind of suspicious. But I’d let him have his little flight of fantasy or whatever. Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight anymore, like Declan. But unlike Declan, I don’t think it was madness leading him. I think it was guilt. He said he was in love with me but I think he was just trying to clear his guilty conscience. Not that I was complaining at the moment, as long as he could get me out of this place.
Barry came over to the bed, carrying a backpack. Clearly, he’d done some thinking without me. He reached in and pulled out his laptop, setting it up without saying another word. I watched as he typed rapidly, lost in his own little world. I looked at the pack, wondering what other goodies he might have inside. I recognized it as one of the bags from the Center, so clearly he took it with him from the MCU. Thoughts of my friends inside the van came to me. I wonder if he did anything to them or if he had the bag already to go.
I took a deep breath. “I still don’t trust you, you know?”
He nodded. “I don’t expect you too,” he said, not looking my way. “But I think I can prove my intentions to you.”
He stopped his typing and reached into the bag. He rummaged around a few seconds and pulled a few things out. One was a hard black case; I know what was in there. The other was a folded article of what looked like snake skin. But I knew what that was as well: my Second Skin. I looked from it to him. He smiled.
“You’re serious about this?” He nodded. “They’ll kill you once they found out you’ve helped me?”
He nodded again. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s changed. This was never supposed to be about hurting anyone. I wanted to destroy the Syndicate just like him and let’s face it; the Center isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be either. But harming Diana the way he has been and some of the other stuff---Strickland for instance----that was never a part of the plan.”
“You’re wrong about the Center.”
He didn’t disagree with me. Instead, he stopped typing again. “If we get out of here…will you come with me?”
Whoa, big question. I bit my lip. “Where are you going?”
He sighed. “I know I can’t go home, not like this. But I want to see them again, my family. Maybe write them a letter like Max did for his little sis. I know it’s asking a lot but I want you with me. Maybe we can start a life together, a real one, not this fake crap that I’ve been putting out.”
I nodded. It sounded nice but it wasn’t for me. But if he could get me out of here and if that’s what he wanted to hear then so be it. “I can go with you if you want. Just you and me, with the whole world behind us. I think I’d like that.”
He smiled. He went back to his computer and continued typing. Ok so I was using him but he used me too. To tell you the truth there was no true way I was going to go with him. Even if he did bring me the Second Skin and whatever was in that black case---I had a good idea. There was just no way that I’d ever trust Barry Morrison ever again.
“That should do it,” he said, finally finished with whatever it was he was doing with the laptop.
“What did you do?”
He smiled and held up a finger. I gave him a look then an alarm sounded somewhere. It was loud and blaring. A few seconds later, another alarm sounded somewhere. Barry laughed aloud then reached into his pocket, taking out a key. I spied it suspiciously until he came over and unlocked the handcuffs. I sat up, rubbing my wrists out of habit. They were already sore and red from before. Somewhere after being unconscious for the umpteenth time my pain from earlier hit me because I could still feel some of it. Now I’d have all new pain to worry about. But all of that could wait. I’m sure the two of us only had a very small window before whatever it was that Barry did was discovered.
I slipped off the bed, grabbing the Second Skin. I ordered him to turn his back and he did so reluctantly. Ex-boyfriend or not, we were still virgins. At least I was. The two of us had been getting really close but for some reason I wasn’t quite ready yet to allow him to go all the way. They also meant that he had yet to see me naked. So he reluctantly turned around as I quickly stripped. I donned the Second Skin as fast as I could then put my clothes back on over it. I looked at his little bag and found a pair of shoes inside too. I shook my head, he thought of everything. It made me wonder if he went into this room thinking he could convince me to run away with him.
“So what’s the plan now?” I asked as I sat on the edge of the bed, putting on the sneakers.
“You and I are going to slip away in the commotion. I’ve got the keys for the van. As soon as things are safe, the two of us will go out the back. I’ve made some arrangements to get us out of the country.”
He reached for the black case but I grabbed his wrist. “That’s mine,” I said and he nodded.
I opened the case and smiled at the P Gun. I figured that’s what was inside. I was a little shocked though when I noticed five darts instead of the usual six.
“Did you use one?”
He shook his head. Very interesting.
I took the gun out of the case, loaded a dart and then grabbed the remaining four. There was no belt or cartridge holder for the darts but Barry remedied that when he took off his coat and handed it to me. It wasn’t a hoodie but it had a hood. I pulled it on; making sure the hood was big enough to cover my whole head. With that out of the way, Barry put away his laptop and went to the door. He opened it slightly, peering out. I took the handcuffs off the bed, turning them so I could use them like a makeshift pair of brass knuckles. Barry stepped into the hallway, looking both ways to make sure. I waited in the corner, ready in case someone realized what was going on and ran into the room.
He stepped back in after a few seconds. “We’re clear.”
I nodded. “How many here besides you and Declan?”
He stopped to think. “You’ve already met Brock, Tobias, Jasmine and Diana. You know about Miles?” I nodded. “The only other two you haven’t met are Kat and Reggie. Reggie is a telekinetic; he specializes in throwing playing cards of all things. But Kat is the one you need to look out for; she’s a real nasty photokinetic. She does this thing with light that’s really nasty, especially for someone like you.”
I nodded, including Barry and Declan that made nine. I could deal with that. I just had to make sure that one of these darts went into Miles. Now that I thought about it, Declan and Jasmine had darts with their names on them too.
Barry took a deep breath and led the way out into the hall. I took my only breath and followed. We were in a room similar to the first one; it was possible it was the same one. Instead of bright fluorescent light though, there was red strobes flashing, the alarms still blaring. The noise didn’t seem to bother Barry but it was driving me insane. I did everything I could to drown it out, including humming. When we got to the end of the hall, Barry opened the last door on the left. He gestured me inside. The room was dark, Barry went for the light switch but I grabbed his wrist. I could see what was in the room and I didn’t like it one bit. There was row after row of firearms all along one wall. I understood why Barry brought me in here but I wasn’t about to let him have a gun.
I still didn’t trust him.
“You’re kidding right?”
“Out of the two of us, only one of us is a traitor,” I said, closing the door.
He sighed. “I’m trying to help you escape, doesn’t that count for anything.”
I sighed and looked around the room. There was a shelf with just knives. I walked over, grabbed two KA-BARs, sheathing one for myself and sticking it into my waistband and then bringing him the other. I thought about grabbing an actual gun but it felt like I was cheating on Reta. Besides a gun would make too much noise. We were trying to be stealthy after all.
“You’re kidding,” he said, taking the knife.
“It’s that or nothing.”
He nodded, securing the knife on his belt. “You can trust me, you know.”
I nodded. “I could also knock your ass out and go on my own.”
He opened his mouth to protest but I held up my hand. A noise from the hall caught my attention. It was two noises actually. The sound of running footfall, two people. They ran past our room and stopped in the middle of the hallway, probably at my former doorway. I listened as the two of them talked. It was the girl from earlier---the one who was with Jasmine---and another voice I didn’t recognize until I heard her call him a name:
“Damn it, Reggie, I knew we shouldn’t trusted Barry.”
The guy, Reggie, sighed. “How far do you think they got?”
“I don’t know. But if it was me I’d hit the weapons at the end of the hall.”
Shit. I snapped around. “Barry we have to go now.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I ran over to the door and yanked it open, grabbing his arm and pulling him out into the hall. I dragged him along, moving as quick as I could, around the corner and down the hall. I let go of Barry as we ran, he kept good pace. Behind us, I heard a shout and then footfall. Something thin flew past my face, slicing my cheek. I didn’t feel it but a second later, I saw the Queen of Hearts zip past the other side of my head. Son of a bitch. I put on the speed, hoping that this Reggie guy didn’t have the skill that Holly had. Another card whizzed past my head. I saw it hit the wall as the two of us whipped around another corner.
“This is crazy,” Barry shouted.
I didn’t respond. He was absolutely right. There was no way these jackasses were going to leave us alone. We had a could several feet on them so I snapped around and pressed myself against the wall. I could hear both of them, Reggie---being the heavier one–was in the lead. When he came to the corner, he charged around it. I snapped around, slamming my fist into his fast. It was almost as if his face ran into my fist. I didn’t feel a thing but Reggie sure did. The blow took his feet out from under him. He flew into the air and fell quickly to the ground, all in one big fluid motion. I looked to make sure he was down for the count then Barry and I started running again.
Barry laughed. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”
I laughed. “I had a good sensei.”
We both shared a smile. I fought back the urge to reach over and kiss him. Ok, so I’m a sucker for a cute guy and a smile. I know I should have been infuriated at him but there was just something about him that made me all mushy. I know that most of our relationship was a lie but that didn’t stop me from wanting him to hold me in his arms like he used to. I think I can chalk it all up to the excitement of the moment, after all the two of us had a relationship built around all this pulse pounding stuff.
We continued to run even after I couldn’t hear the pursuit anymore. Apparently, that girl, Kat, wasn’t much of a runner. Barry led the way down a couple more halls and then a narrow staircase. Finally, we got to a bottom floor, this one devoid of flashing red and siren sounds. I sighed, resting against a wall. Barry went to a door, using a key to unlock it. He explained as he did so. On the other side of the door was a little garage where they kept the van. When they brought Emma and me here, they carried us up these exact same stairs.
“From here” he said as he opened the door. “The two of us can make it to my safe house. I’ve got this great view, you’ll love it.”
He started laughing and I smiled. He turned and froze. He looked at me, his hand seizing up as his fingers tightened on the doorknob. He was still laughing but suddenly it cut off, his mouth partially open. I saw the look on his face; it was the same one that Diana had from earlier.
“Becca” he said, forcing the words out painfully. “Run!”
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Thirteen by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Time for something a tad different. Becca's narrative will pick up again in Ch. 14 but I thought I'd try something new. So this chapter will be told through Stella's POV...please be kind. I have a question to, this was supposed to be a one time thing but I'm curious if I should write at least one more from her POV. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing.
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Chapter Thirteen:
The music was so loud I could barely hear myself think. I looked over at Karen and smiled, the girl wasn’t having a very good time. I knew how she felt. This wasn’t exactly my scene either. But unlike her, I wasn’t here to have a good time. This was a part of the mission, at least according to Becca. So far, I had yet to see anything that might even look remotely like Dekker being here. In fact, looking about the place all I saw was young people, save maybe the bartender and the doorman. It was crazy to think that an adult would want anything to do with this place, but of course, none of us could tell Becca that. She had a one track mind and if she thought something was the way it was then it was. There was no arguing the point.
I sighed, all my worry coming to the forefront.
We were all worried about her but I think I was more so than the others. This unhealthy obsession of hers was starting to weigh heavily on all of us. I understood her need to for some retribution but she was taking things one step too far. I hated to think so badly of her, seeing as she was a good friend now but I couldn’t help but wonder how much she was actually herself. Unlike the others, I knew all about what she was suffering through. I heard her moans in the middle of the night, I saw her thrashing about on her bed, unable to fight off the horrors I’m sure she was dreaming. I couldn’t feel her pain physically for her but I could definitely feel it mentally. She was troubled and she wouldn’t let anyone help her. Not that we didn’t try. Everyone tried. But no matter how much we---her friends---tried to get to her, there didn’t seem to be anything in our words that she liked. Before she used to shrug us off but now she was getting downright nasty about it. It pained me to think where all of this nastiness could possibly be going.
I turned to the bar, trying my hardest to see through the people there. Becca had left the table about a minute or two ago, to go surprise Barry. The two of them were sweet together but even that relationship was straining. She didn’t talk about it much but I knew the two of them were having problems, how could you not. The two of them had been rocky ever since they got to the Center together. I’m not really sure of the specifics but I know that she was in confinement for a month and there were stories about what he did while she was there. But things started to look good for them after they got back from Section One, the two of them were hot and heavy for a bit.
But all of that changed when Brad showed up. You’d have to be an idiot if you didn’t notice how he looked at her and how she looked at him. It was clear that something was going on there. Thinking about me always brought a bit a jealousy to the surface. For so long I’d been trying to deny it but there was no denying it now. I had the hots for my roommate. I mean how can you not. Tonight when she walked out of the bathroom wearing that outfit, I did everything I could to keep from jumping her right there. There was just something about seeing a girl in a tiny little number like that that makes me wet. I can’t help it---I wish I could---but there was no denying my feelings.
“You girls look bored,” said a voice, shattering my thoughts.
I snapped my head away from trying to see Becca and over to the interloper. Britney was now occupying Becca’s seat. She was shining with sweat and panting. She looked like someone had doused her with a hose. There was something about a glistening girl that made me blush. I did so now, hoping she wouldn’t notice. There was no way I could deny how I felt about her either. Britney was gorgeous, not Becca gorgeous but definitely right up there. She was a tease, too. She danced around her---our room, for the moment---in the tiniest little underwear, flaunting what Mother Nature gave her. Unlike Becca, Britney knew how I felt.
Karen fingered the rim of her glass, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what to do in a place like this.”
Britney huffed. “You get a drink, you knock it back then you find some hot thing to grind against for a couple of hours until you can’t stand anymore.”
Karen turned a strange shade of purple. Britney laughed and turned her attention to me. “What about you, Red, you want to party with little ole me?”
I looked past her over at the bar again. I finally spotted Becca; she was talking with Barry and Brad. I bit my lip. “I think I want to wait for Becca to return.”
Britney rolled her eyes. She turned to Karen. “You’re coming with me; I’m going to loosen you up a bit.”
She grabbed Karen’s wrists, pulling her out of her seat, ignoring her protests. I watched as Britney dragged a struggling Karen into the throng of people on the dance floor. I sighed. At least some one was having fun tonight. Who knows, maybe some of that would rub off on Karen. She was a strange one. I told Becca I’d look after her while she hooked up with the guys. We talked for all of thirty seconds before Karen quietly dazed off into the crowd. There was a moment when I thought a group of guys might pique her interest though. They were from that school Brad and Connor were hiding at, pretending to be students. There had been one guy in particular that Karen was staring at, a tall dark haired boy. But Karen diverted her eyes away quickly and it looked as if the color drained from her face.
I searched the crowd for the group, hoping maybe Karen would get up the nerve to approach the guy. But I couldn’t find them or her anymore. Maybe Britney was getting her to cut loose after all. I smiled and turned my attention back to the bar. Brad was pushing his way through the crowd, moving back toward the table. He looked like someone had forced him to swallow something unpleasant. He spun a seat around and sat down, the back of which was facing the table. He was good looking---I could see what Becca saw in him---but there was no spark of interest toward him on my behalf. I was one hundred percent lesbian and proud of it.
“They send you away?”
He shook his head. “I chose to leave. It was getting kinda awkward.”
He looked around the table, noticing I was alone. “Where’s Emma?”
I shrugged. She disappeared a few minutes before Becca. I wasn’t really paying attention because I was too busy trying to engage poor Karen in conversation. Now that Brad mentioned it, I hadn’t seen Emma since she disappeared. It was pretty obvious why she stormed off though. Looking over at the table where Kit and Samson were sitting, it was clear she was reading something there that pissed her off. It was pretty common knowledge that sweet Miss Ford and the Corporal had a thing for one another. I’m not sure that made her overprotective brother too happy but I couldn’t see anything happening there anyway---Samson was twenty three after all.
Brad looked over at the table where the two military people pretended to be into each other. He seemed to relax a bit when he saw that both of them were still there. After a few seconds of giving Samson the evil eye, he turned back to me. “Why aren’t you on the dance floor?”
I sighed. I took a chance with the truth. “Because just like you, I’m waiting for something that I can’t have.”
We shared a knowing nod and as one, both of us looked back in the direction of the bar. I like Brad and if he was competition, I’ve already lost. Of course, both of us would still have to get rid of Barry. I didn’t know him all that well. He came by the room only once and a while and mostly to pick Becca up. But in the last week or so even that had stopped. I’ve only been at the Center for a few weeks and I think I’d only actually seen the two of them together five or six times. He used to sit with us at lunch but now he didn’t even come to the lunch room. I’m not sure how she could be in a relationship and not be in one. I suppose she loved him---they had a lot of shared history together---but even that had to be taxing.
The two of us stared in shared longing. Then Barry turned away, looking angry. He stormed off, pushing his way through the crowd. I caught sight of his face the closer he got. There was a look of anger there but there was something else too. I followed him as he approached our table. Brad stood up and tried to talk to him bit Barry slammed into him---shoulder to shoulder---shoving him aside as he charged on past. In his wake came Becca, moving just as fast. I stood half way, waving to her but she ignored him. Brad apparently didn’t want to be ignored because he took off after her.
I looked down at the table and followed. I saw him grab her arm and slowly spin her to face him. I looked past the two of them, spotting Barry push the rest of the way through the crowd. Near the door I barely saw him bend over and pick something up, it looked like a backpack. What the hell? I turned back to Brad and Becca and just caught the tail end of their conversation:
“I just need some air,” she said, pulling her arm from him.
“You want me to come…”
She didn’t even let him finish before she stormed off after Barry, disappearing into the crowd. I saw the look of confusion on Brad’s face. Then the look of determination. I don’t think he was ready to lose her so easily. I smiled. He took a deep breath and followed, calling Becca’s name. I took a deep breath too, taking one last look back at the dance floor. I finally caught sight of Britney and Karen; the two of them were grinding into one another. A pang of jealousy waved over me but I’d deal with it later. I turned back, seeing Brad had a head start. I picked up speed and followed. When the two of us got to the door, we were caught up in a flood of people coming in. By the time we pushed our way through, we stepped panting into the cold night air.
I looked about but both Becca and Barry were gone.
Brad seemed to look too then he went straight for the bouncer.
“Have you seen a girl with short black, about five eight, five nine. Dressed in a halter top and short skirt?”
The bouncer rolled his eyes. “There’s a lot of girls going through here buddy.”
“She just left actually.”
The bouncer smiled and nodded. “She left about two minutes ago with a blue haired chick, I think the two of them were heading that way.”
Brad looked in the direction the guy was pointing then took off. I groaned, running to keep up. It was kind of hard in the heels that Britney forced to wear but I managed. The bitter cold was the problem. I was wearing barely anything at all---my dress was so tiny it barely covered my butt---but Brad didn’t seem to think anything of it. He was dressed like a normal human being though and in any other circumstance, I would have probably been running ahead of him. But without heels, he had a pretty good head start. When I caught up, he was looking this way and that, from one storefront to the other. When we got to the end of the road, we both stopped dead in our tracks.
There was a gray van parked out in front of a little corner coffee shop. It didn’t mean anything to me until I saw what was being carried into the van. There was a blue haired girl and a big burly guy carrying a person between them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was Becca. Brad and I were standing on the other side of the street and the two of them already had her into the van.
“Hey” Brad shouted, probably not the best thing to do.
The big guy closed the door and turned toward us, smirking.
Brad took off across the street, it was late enough that traffic wasn’t really that bad. Luckily for all of us there weren’t a lot of people about so no one saw what the big guy did next. He raised a hand in Brad’s direction and a jet of flame shot from it. I screamed. Brad just stood his ground as the flame engulfed him. For a second I thought he was a goner until I realized the nature of Brad’s ability. The flame licked around his body but didn’t burn. The big guy seemed to notice something was wrong because he didn’t stand around to try again. He pulled open the van door and jumped inside.
I ran across the road, kicking off my shoes as I went. I looked to make sure Brad was ok, then continued on foot after the van. But you know how that is. There was no way a normal person could ever catch up to a speeding van. I stopped after a few feet, cursing as the van whipped around the corner and disappeared.
Brad came up behind me, already talking: “They took her. I repeat, The Eagle is Gone.”
I cursed. Becca was going to be so pissed when she woke up.
_____________________________
“Son of a bitch” cursed Kit as she furiously typed away at the keys.
I looked around the interior of the Mobile Command Unit---Becca and the others called it the “MCU”. I felt out of place here. I was kinda a geek before the Change but it only went as far as constant hours of World of Warcraft and playing games on Facebook. All this computer stuff---the things that Barry could do---were completely foreign to me. Kit on the other hand seemed to be a master at it. She wasn’t as proficient as Barry was but then again she was a normal person. But tonight no matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t seem to get a break. After leaving the street, Brad and I went back into the club to get the others. Luckily, Britney and Karen were still on the dance floor so we were able to talk with the rest of the team in private. Well, at least I was. Brad got worried about Emma and went looking for her. I filled Kit, Samson and Connor in on what happened. It wasn’t long after that that a frantic Brad showed up, claiming that he couldn’t find Emma anywhere. Samson helped him search but in the end Emma was as MIA as Becca and Barry.
As a group, we concluded that we were compromised.
We cut the club session short after that. I managed to get Britney and Karen off the dance floor and told them what was going on. The cover was that Becca and Emma got a little “lucky” and would join us later. I got the two of them out of the club and into a waiting cab; it didn’t take long for us to get back to Chairmont. Once Britney was asleep, I did my invisible thing and snuck out. The MCU was waiting for me at the gate, the boys already inside.
"Damn thing is fucked,” said Kit, giving up. She pushed the keyboard away, cursing.
“What are you talking about?” asked Samson, coming to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder.
Kit ran her fingers through her hair. “I think we got punked. Whoever took Becca and Emma, somehow hacked our system.”
"p that?”
For once, I actually agreed with Connor. It was unlike Barry not to have his system protected. Barry had two loves in his life and the first one sadly wasn’t Becca. He cared more about his computers than anything, there was no way he’d let someone hack his system. I mean who could anyway. They’d have to be the world’s greatest hacker and as far as I knew, I think that was Barry himself. Becca told me how he hacked the Syndicate’s mainframe and put everything on a little portable hard drive. It was ingenious. I found it hard to believe that he’d be careless enough to let someone mess with his system.
Kit agreed with me. “Barry set up the best security imaginable. The only one who could bypass it is him.”
None of us said anything. It was crazy to think about but crazier things happened. But to think what I was thinking. What I’m sure everyone was thinking.
Connor voiced it though. “How do we know it’s not him?”
None of us had anything to say to that.
It was hard to think of Barry as anything other than a team player but who else could hack his system? I bit my lip, trying to think of alternatives. If I was still Mike, I could have probably come up with some crazy story to explain all of this. I used to be such a geek when it came to these things. But ever since changing not my new self, the geekiness was slowly slipping away. I’m not saying that my mind changed or anything, it was just that I didn’t really like who I used to be. I still love video games---in fact, Emma and I have been playing them since she got here---it’s just that I’m interested in other things too. I smiled thinking about that. If I would have told myself a few weeks ago that, I was going to turn into a girl---a sporty one at that---I would have laughed in my own face.
“Can we contact the Center?” asked Brad, speaking up for the first time. He’d been pretty quiet after we all realized that Emma was missing too.
Kit sighed and shook her head. “Most of the long range communication is tied into a satellite. We can’t access it without the computer. The only communication we have is short range, meaning between ourselves.”
“What about your back up guy?” asked Connor.
Kit shook her head again. “I haven’t been able to raise Baker or his team.”
"What about phone calls?" asked Connor, playing devil's advocate. "What about that guy from MI5?"
Kit frowned. "Something's up with the phones. I tried calling it in earlier but I got nothing but static. I would try Baker but I don't have a number to reach him. There's something screwy going on here, something beyond just what's happening here."
I looked around the van, at all the somber faces. The two soldiers were the only ones cut out for this kind of thing but even they looked defeated. I’m not saying that Becca had all the answers but she was sure on top of things. But it sucked to thing that all of us were too stupid to figure out what to do next. I kept staring at my fellow teammates, trying to read each of them. Connor looked disinterested, Brad looked worried and Kit looked frustrated. The only one who didn’t seem to register at all was Samson. He was sitting next to Kit, staring at the bank of computer monitors in front of her. I think he was trying to figure a way out of this scenario. I think he might have been feeling a little guilty too. After all, he was supposed to be watching our backs and already three of us were gone, taken by the enemy.
I had to say something. “Is there anything we can do?”
Kit sighed. She looked like she was going to say something but stopped. Then I saw a look on her face and she smiled. She didn’t say a thing but she went right into typing. Her hands flew across the keys. I looked at the screen in front of her, watching as window after window scrolled across. She was good with that thing---not Barry good---but better than me. I couldn’t make sense of much of it but whatever it was; it seemed to make her happy because her smile kept getting bigger. After staring for a few seconds, I noticed a map pop up on the screen. It was replaced seconds later by a landscape. First, it was a forest then it slowly started zooming in, a gray rectangular building slowly came into view.
Kit finally stopped typing. “I’m such an idiot,” she admitted, tapping the screen.
“What is that?” asked Samson, leaning forward to look. Then he read something aloud. “Barton Research?”
“That’s where they are,” said Kit confidently.
This time I leaned forward, surprised. “How do you know that?”
Kit smiled. “I was so caught up in everything that was going on that I forgot one key detail” She paused for the dramatic effect. “Becca is bugged.”
________________________________
It was her bullet. The night before we shipped out from the Center, Kit slipped into our room and took Becca’s Dekker bullet on Mrs. Fine’s orders. They replicated the bullet---making a fake one with a tracker inside. Then they replaced it without Becca’s knowledge. It was a simple little maneuver. Mrs. Fine knew that Becca had been carrying the damn thing with her all over the place. She also knew that given the chance Becca would eventually do something crazy and stupid so she put this plan into effect. It paid off too. I’m not saying that whatever Becca did to get caught was stupid but it was definitely fortuitous that she was being tracked.
After Kit shared that amazing little bit of info with us, we had something to go on. The tracker operated on a different frequency that the rest of the communications array. Though the two of them were connected to the same satellite, there was no reason for whoever to know about it. So when we were initially locked out of the computer, the hacker---I’m not ready to admit the obvious---had no reason to think that such a tactic existed. Kit forgot all about it because she assumed that she’d be locked out of the program. Then she remembered that it was on a different network, one of her own design and not something, that Barry had any access to. Yeah, she was kinda convinced Barry was involved somehow.
It helped that only she and Mrs. Fine were the only ones who knew about the bug. Now we were on a deployment. Who would have thought I’d ever think about that. Ok so it wasn’t really anything special. After discerning the building’s location from the bug, Kit and Samson handled the details. We still didn’t have communications but they were able to organize a lot. The MCU had pretty much everything needed to storm a facility---i.e. guns and tactical gear. Kit and Samson were all decked out now. Samson was in front driving; Kit was at the computer giving him directions while the rest of us were in the back. Me, I wanted to piss myself. I was doing everything I possibly could to keep my mind off what was about to happen. We were going to storm a secluded facility, in the middle of nowhere, with possible hostiles waiting for us. Ok, they didn’t know we were coming so we had the element of surprise on our hands but it was still not very reassuring.
“You look green, Princess” said Connor, who was sitting next to me.
I wanted to punch him. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
He laughed. “Ever play paint ball or laser tag?”
I groaned. Paint ball was too much work for me but I’d played my far share of laser tag. I was kinda a geek after all. But that was all pretend, this was real life. Even though I didn’t have a gun---Connor and Brad did---I was still wary of the things that I might have to do. I knew this was a possible part of the whole deal but I was definitely having second thoughts about this whole commando thing. When Becca first pitched the idea to me, I thought it was something that I might enjoy. After all, I had a unique skill set, one almost built for this kind of thing. She mentioned that there might be situations where we would have to engage the enemy but I figured she and Emma would handle all that stuff. I had no real combat training---a couple hours in the shooting range maybe---but nothing like this.
I looked over at Brad who was sitting on the other side of me. He smiled weakly. I could see it in his eyes, the mixture of anticipation and fear. I reached over and squeezed his hand.
“What about me?” asked Connor, sticking his hand in my face.
I swatted it away. He laughed.
“Ignore him,” said Brad “I usually do.”
I nodded. “Are you ok? “
He shrugged. “I’m not really good at protecting my sister.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Back when the roles were reversed, she did everything to be the best brother possible. I used to envy her for being so cool. Then the change happened and everything is different. She’s still the same cool person but it seems her emotions get the better of her now. I should have been watching her better; I should have made sure she was in my line of sight at all times.”
I squeezed his hand harder. “We’ll find her. She’s going to be ok, I promise.”
I continued to hold his hand, looking out the window of the SUV. We left the MCU back in the city, opting for an SUV instead. The van didn’t really have the all-terrain capabilities that we were looking for. Besides there wasn’t really all that room for us to sit. Kit transferred what she needed onto a laptop. She tried to reestablish a connection to the communications network but it was still down. She seemed to think whoever hacked it, might have done it on both ends. But that didn’t stop her from trying. She did everything she could think of to try to reconnect. But so far, she was having no such luck. So the four of us were still on our own.
The SUV was currently bumping down a dirt road; passing by small stone walls on either side. I could barely see anything, though. Looking out the window there was nothing but blackness on either side. A part of me wished I had Becca’s night vision. I kept thinking that there was something lurking out there, waiting to strike. I knew I was being kinda paranoid but you never know with these Syndicate types. Yeah, Syndicate, who else could they be. I knew it was kinda strange, especially considering what Becca told me about Dekker. He was kinda an ass; he didn’t much like our kind either. So why would he be working with them? I guess it didn’t really make much sense but then again none of this did.
I continued to stare, glad that I had charged myself up before going to the club tonight. That’s how I work, you see. It’s not so much that I turn invisible or even bend the light around myself. I sorta absorb it, pulling it into myself. So I’m not really invisible, I’m kinda using the light like a shield. It’s really complicated and I don’t understand it much, other than that, it takes a lot of concentrating to do. Marnie---that’s what Miss Orville told me to call her---has been helping me. She went to school for sports therapy, with a specialization in alternative forms. They recruited her a few months ago. She was “young and with it”, according to her. She’s been helping me with breathing exercises and yoga. She was the one who got me into my running too. She said that having a regiment would help me deal with stress better. When I’m stressed out, I tend to disappear, literally.
Right now, I was doing everything I could to keep my breathing under control. I looked down at my hands; the one still clutching Brad’s was slowly fading away. I bit my lip and concentrated. It reappeared and I sighed. He looked at me and smiled.
“I have problems too,” he said, demonstrating by making his free hand go transparent.
He leaned forward and stuck it through the seat in front of him, the one where Kit was sitting. The Specialist gasped.
“Not cool” she snapped.
Brad wiggled his fingers as they poked through her chest. We both laughed and Brad slowly slid his hand out. Kit patted herself down, to make sure she was all there. She snapped around and glared at us. Brad shrugged which only got us laughing more. After that, Brad and I played a simple game of Show Me. He started by doing funky things, like putting his hands through the windows and things. I’d counter by making my limbs invisible. We had a good laugh over it. His powers were much cooler than mine though. Unlike me, he could take my hand and bring it through the window too. I tried to make other things invisible but I can’t. It was one of the things they had me try to do in my powers training. We spent hours trying to do it but invisibility is all about concentration, something that inanimate objects don’t have.
I’m not really sure why it doesn’t work with other people.
“You two done playing?” asked Kit from the passenger seat.
We snapped to attention but were still laughing.
“Sorry” we both said at the same time.
She smiled at us from the rear view mirror. “Good because we’re approaching the target.”
I looked ahead, letting go of Brad’s hand. There it was, Barton Research. THe building stood out in contrast, the gray showing up like a beacon through all the green around it. The sun was coming up too, peeking its head over the clouds. I completely missed that.The place surprised me though. It wasn’t what I was expecting. For one thing, there was no one outside. There was a perimeter fence but it looked to be chain linked. There was no barbed wire on top, at least none that I could see. The building was beyond it, looking like a large gray rectangle. I was kinda disappointed. This was supposed to be a dreaded Syndicate facility. Where were the electric fences, black suited guards, and crazy E’s who shot flames? I was expecting a firefight as soon as we got here but this place looked deserted. I huffed and sighed at the same time. Only a part of me was disappointed. The other part was really happy that there was no welcoming committee here to meet us.
We stopped the SUV along the fence. Samson got out first, bringing a gigantic gun with him. It was a new addition to the Center’s arsenal, something he requested after the Section One mission. They’d only just gotten it in right before we left and I think Samson was itching to try it out. He called it AA-12; it was supposed to be a badass combination of a shotgun and machine gun. Samson talked about it the whole time we were prepping; he talked off anyone’s ear who would listen. It was designed for urban combat or something like that. To tell you the truth, I only half paid attention. Mike would have loved hearing about it but now I think I was more girl than I wanted to admit.
He moved along the outside of the vehicle then ran over to the fence, checking both ways as he did so. I think he was just as perplexed about the lax security as we were. After a few minutes of scoping things out, he gestured for the rest of us. I unbuckled my seatbelt as Brad opened the door. Connor was already outside, raising a sub machine gun. I hated that he had no real weapons training. All he had to do was read something and bam, he knew it. He was a literally Encyclopedia on legs. Me on the other hand, it took me hours to even shoot straight. I was getting better but nobody would be handing me a gun anytime soon.
When I got out of the SUV, Kit had the back open and was rummaging around in a hard black case. She gestured me over, pulling a pistol out of it. She held it out for me. Ok, I stand corrected; someone was actually going to hand me a gun.
“This is a Springfield X-Dm-9 3.8. It’s a 9mm, twenty rounds. It’s a fairly new piece of equipment. I know you’re not up to speed on weapons training but I’d feel safer if everyone on the team has a firearm, just in case.”
I nodded numbly, taking the gun from her. She handed me a shoulder holster and showed me how to put it on. I was familiar enough to put the gun in right making sure it was secure. When she saw that I was all set, she nodded and closed everything up. There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that I now carried a deadly weapon with the intent to kill. I’m not sure if I was terrified or mortified. Maybe a little of both. But I think they’re the same thing.
I tapped my pistol. “Ok Bart” I said, yeah he had to have a name. “Let’s hope I don’t have to use you.”
Samson took the lead with his mighty AA-12, Kit took up the rear. Brad got near Samson first, grabbing his shoulder and walking through the fence with him. Then he came back for Connor and me. It was one thing to have your hand phased through a windowpane but it was another to pass through something as big as a chain link. I was still tingling after I was through. Kit was the last one who went through. There was a green look on her face, as if she was about to throw up. Brad checked to make sure she was ok and when she nodded, the five of us moved on. Samson was always in the lead. We moved fast, trying to keep out of the light coming from the building. Which wasn’t much of a problem, considering most of the light was only coming in slits. When we got closer to the building, we realized that most of the windows were boarded up. I bit my lip. What the hell was up with this place?
We came up to the side of the building; there was a lone door there. Once again, no guards. There was something real screwy about all this. It should have been swarming, right.
“Ok, radio silence, guys,” said Kit, slipping ahead of us as Samson went to the door.
He reached into his pack, taking out a little block of gray clay. I knew what that was. He started to shape it around the door handle. He did something else but I couldn’t see because he was in the way. Then he stepped back and motioned away from the door. We went back several feet; he pulled something out of his pocket and pressed down on it. There was a loud popping blast and the door was blasted from its hinges.
Open Sesame.
Samson went first, followed by Connor. Brad made me go ahead of him, I was glad that I had their guns all around me. Brad and Kit were behind me. The hall in front of us was narrow and poorly lit. We moved down in single file. We got about half way down when an alarm sounded, red lights flaring all around us.
I bit my lip, lost my concentration and disappeared.
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Fourteen by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's 14, it starts out in Becca's POV then switches to Stella then goes back to Becca. Don't worry, I label the POV switches. I'd also like to apologize for the Character Vs. Character that seems to pop up in this chapter, it just sorta happened. Though it might be interesting to listen to the theme song from the Mortal Kombat movie while you're reading it. I'd like to thank djkauf for the fantastic editing.
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Chapter Fourteen:
Barry’s words echoed in my head. Everything fell into slow motion for me. I saw him standing there, one minute laughing and now frozen in fear. The look on his face, the way his expression seemed to disappear. I’d seen it all before, in fact very recently. It was Emma all over again and if so, that meant the two of us were no longer alone. I’ve dealt with Dominators before; hell, they seem to be the staple of the Syndicate army. I’ve had run-ins with Declan, his crony Scarlet, little Melanie Crane and most recently that demented psychopath Anastasia. But all of them were peanuts compared to this guy. I haven’t even met Miles and I could already tell he was a force to be reckoned with.
“Barry?” I asked softly, seeing the blank look on his face. “Can you hear me?”
I know I should have been running but I just couldn’t leave him. Call me a moron all you want but there was no way I was going to lose any more friends to this asshole.
My former boyfriend continued to stare ahead, his eyes the only thing that seemed to have any life left in them. I bit my lip, waving my hand in front of his face. His eyes followed it and a tear slowly started to swell up. I cursed. Barry was there but there was nothing more he could do to help me. I didn’t waste any more time after that, I turned and ran. My heart was pounding in my chest, my feet pounding heavily on the floor. I knew I was going in the wrong direction but I didn’t have much of a choice anymore. I’d find another way out, there had to be more than one. I heard Barry running after me, his feet pounding just as loud as mine. Ok, so my ex-boyfriend was now a brainwashed zombie. I could deal with that, I think.
I put on the speed, trying to get some distance between the two of us. This has been one of those days---or has it been two? I really need to figure this stuff out. Clearly it’s morning now, at least I think it is. Regardless of the time of day, I need to figure out another game plan. Barry had everything worked out; of course, he was a lying traitor so I wasn’t really keen on his plan from the start. But it would have gotten me out of this place. I could have dealt with him after we made tracks. But now that plan was shit.
I got to the end of another hall; I think it was my third one. I’m not sure what way I was going though, all these damn halls looked the same to me. As I was turning the corner, I saw him. I stopped dead in my tracks, skidding to a halt. It was that gargantuan pyro jackass, Brock. Damn, why can’t that guy stay down? He looked pretty battered; there were bruises all over his face, his top lip swollen and purple. All of it my handiwork. He didn’t notice me at first but I knew that wasn’t going to last long. I snapped back around and heard Barry coming. Son of a bitch, they had me pinned in. How is that something could go to shit so quickly?
I closed my eyes, concentrating on the rest of the noises. There were a lot of them. Earlier when we were escaping, I thought I heard a dull thud like an explosion but it happened so quickly I couldn’t be sure. Now I heard a lot of running. I think Declan had the whole place on high alert. Barry’s little diversion worked pretty well except I was pretty certain they knew it was fake now. So the question was why weren’t there more people out looking for us? I concentrated more on the running and noticed something off about it. There were too many people. There were at least ten people in Declan’s merry band of rejects, which included him, Diana and Barry. Brock was included in that as well and I knew for a fact he wasn’t running. Listening to the footfall around me, I picked up at least five more people.
I smiled. Things just got very interesting indeed.
But interesting or not, I still needed to get my ass out of here. I weighed my options. I could deal with brainwashed zombie or crazy, pissed off pyro. I took a deep breath and snapped around. A fist drove into my face, knocking me on my ass. Son of a bitch. Brainwashed Barry stood over me, smirking. How he’d sneak up on me? I’m losing my touch. I jumped to my feet, wiping blood from my mouth. I raised my hands in a defensive position, ready for it. Barry cheated, whipping out the knife. I groaned, I knew I should have never given him that. He came at me, quick, aiming for my left breast. I spun with his slash, rolling up his outstretched arm, driving my elbow into the side of his head. He stumbled back, clearly taken off guard by my ability to outmaneuver him. I guess all that practicing with Ray really paid off after all.
Barry may have been a badass who taught me everything I know but he’d been going soft. He spent all his time with his computers and very little in the training room anymore. On the other hand, I’d only gotten better. I trained whenever I could, honing my skills and picking new ones up as well. Let’s face it; Ray was a far better teacher too, not at all distracted by me because he had his own lady friend.
I used the stunning blow to land a few more. I came at the other side of his head, delivering another swift elbow. Barry blocked it but it was a feint. It distracted him from my real blow, which was the knee I delivered to his chest. Guess what, Becca learned a new fighting style. It was called Mauy Thai, native to Thailand; it uses a technique referred to as the “Art of eight limbs.” It was something that Ray recently picked up, meant to train others who might find themselves in close quarter situations. Naturally, he went to me first with it, knowing how much I liked to get into my little scraps. Every chance we got the two of us practiced. It didn’t take me long to pick it up. I still had a lot to learn but I was getting the basics.
Barry stumbled back, allowing me to deliver another elbow to his head, this time he didn’t block that one. He dropped his knife, abandoning it on the floor. Brainwashed Barry was sloppy, a clumsy shell of his real self. I think Miles took too much away when he did whatever to control him. There was no finesse there, no real purpose other than to turn Barry into a mindless automaton. I pushed Barry back down the hall, delivering blow after blow, changing things up with fast moving fists, elbows and knees whenever he allowed me to get close enough. He fought back valiantly but I overwhelmed him. I was too fast, even the real Barry knew that. The only real chance he had against me was the knife and he lost that.
I delivered another punch, hitting him in the left temple. Barry dropped to his knees, I smirked. I’m not even sure why I ran from him before. I think I thought he was going to be more of a threat. But this was kind of pathetic actually. Declan prided himself on his Super Dominator but clearly Miles was a really bad puppeteer.
Ok so maybe I was getting too cocky or maybe I was losing myself in the moment because what happened next I never heard coming. I felt it though. It was a sharp sting; it exploded in my shoulder blade. I didn’t feel any pain but I felt what came after it. There was a great on rush of heat, whatever it was in my back got extremely hot. I snapped around. That brute Brock was standing behind me, Barry’s knife in his hand. The blade of it was red hot, covered in blood. I stumbled, feeling woozy and disoriented. Oh God, the burning sting. I felt the blood trickle down my back, soaking my shirt. The son of a bitch stabbed me.
The blow came from behind, right in the back of my head. I saw stars and then everything went black.
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Stella:
I can’t believe they actually made me go into a room and promise to stay there. It was kind of infuriating, like a little kid being told not to touch anything. But at the same time, I guess I can’t complain too much. After all, we were in enemy territory now and anything was bound to happen. So here I was---in a dark, cold room---trying my best to keep my mind occupied. It’s not as easy as you think. There’s no windows and the only chair is a hard wooden one, near a desk. The worst part, I’m not sure the last time this place was cleaned. I could feel the dust creeping into my nose, tickling it horribly. I withstood sneezing at the moment, in case it was going to draw attention to me but it was only a matter of time before I let it blow.
Ok, so I’m, not exactly the greatest spy but I’m not pretending to be one.
After we arrived and the alarms sounded, I actually panicked a bit. Hey, I thought it was us. Brad had to drag me into a corner---after I rematerialized of course. He was able to calm me down enough and told me that this wasn’t really a place for me. I didn’t argue there. I did argue with the fact that they wanted to leave me behind, though. Connor offered to download some of his combat knowledge into my brain but I refused. It was bad enough that he put all that other crap in there before but there was no way I was letting him near my head again. It was too damn creepy. So after refusing that, the others thought I was too much of a liability. I’m not sure why they didn’t tell me that before they let me follow them into the dangerous, enemy run facility.
I took a deep breath, trying my hardest to occupy my mind. But when you’re sitting here, all by yourself there isn’t really much to think about except how much you want to be with everyone else. Maybe I should have taken Connor up on his offer after all. I reached into my shoulder holster and took out Bart; he was a lot heavier than I would have thought. Back at the Center, Becca talked me into using a Beretta for my Small Arms training. She said it was the perfect gun for girls like us. I think it was because she was so in love with hers that she wanted everyone to feel that very same love. The only thing I felt for Bart was fear. Here in my hand was something dangerous, something life ending. All I really wanted to do was toss him aside, crawl into that corner over there and curl up into a ball. Yeah, I’m a coward but come on, who wouldn’t be in a situation like this?
A noise in the hall startled me. I gasped, dropping the gun. In the empty room, the thudding sound of it hitting the linoleum echoed about. I cursed but was glad that I knew enough to put the safety on. As I was bending to pick up, I heard the same something in the hall. It probably would have passed me by if I hadn’t dropped the stupid gun. Damn it. Instead of picking it up, I left it there and slowly slipped out of the chair. Whoever was on the other side of the door---it was definitely a person---was now stopped directly in front of it. I heard a jingle of keys and then the doorknob turned slightly.
I took a deep breath and lowered my concentration. When I first turned invisible---back before my Second Emergence---it scared the hell out of me. It’s not every day that a kid vanishes into thin air like that. I mean I was standing, feeling like hell and them wham, my arms disappear. It was pretty damn jarring. I wandered about the forest, dazed and confused. I puked a few times. I would have felt a whole lot worse if Becca hadn’t found me when she did. I owed her a lot. But even after I transitioned, I was still really scared of it. I knew there were other photokinetics at the Center--- hell Heather and I are really good friends---but it took me a long time to open up to people. Once again, Becca helped me with that too.
Now turning invisible was like taking my clothes on and off. Sometimes I did it without even thinking about it.
Now wasn’t one of those times.
The door opened up and a blue haired girl stepped into the room. My heart skipped a beat. It was the same blue haired girl I saw carrying Becca out of the coffee shop. I gripped my fists at my sides. This was the bitch that kidnaped one of my best friends. I bit my lip, forcing back all my anger and hate. The girl looked around the room, squinting her eyes. She didn’t step from the doorway but she didn’t leave either. Behind her, the hallway was bright and welcoming. I wonder if there was a way I could slip past her without her noticing.
She smirked. “You think you’re pretty clever don’t you?” she said, there was definite malice in her voice. “You’re Stella, right?”
How in the hell did she know that?
“I know all about you. In fact, I know a lot about all of you. I’m not sure if you’ve gotten the 411 yet, honey but you’ve been compromised.” She laughed again, stepping into the room and shutting the door. “Your buddy Barry has been feeding us information for a long time now.”
I gasped. Son of a bitch. So it was Barry, he really did sabotage the communications. That bastard was so dead. But I still found it hard to believe he could be involved with this girl. She kidnaped his girlfriend.
“You want to know something else?”She didn’t wait for me to answer.
Instead, she walked into the room further and stared right at me. She smiled real big. “I might not be able to see you but you’re emotions are all over the place.”
Damn it. A fricking Empath, that’s all I needed. I’m not sure which was worst, knowing that she could read me or trying to force down anything that might draw her to me. I tried my hardest to keep things in check but there was a combination of things floating around in me at the moment. Top among them was fear, followed a close second by anger. I wanted to tear this bitch limb from limb for fucking with my friend. But I needed to keep that in check or else…
“Oh, such strong emotions” she said, walking over and sitting on the corner of the little wooden desk in the room. “You don’t need to hide from me anymore sweetie, I know exactly where you are.”
I didn’t rematerialize. Instead, I slowly slipped along the room, making my way ever so quietly toward the door. Unfortunately, for me, this bitch seemed to follow my every move. It was as if she had x-ray vision or something. I guess she kinda did. If she could feel my emotions, it was probably the same thing as seeing in the dark. I probably lit up like a Christmas tree as far as she was concerned. Did that mean I wanted to stop doing what I was doing, hell no. It just meant that I needed to be a little more secretive about it.
I took another step toward the door. “Seriously” she laughed. “I know what you’re doing. You honestly think that slipping out of here is going to stop me from finding you.”
There was no point keeping quiet anymore. “You may have the upper hand but let’s see if you can outrun me.”
I made a mad dash for the door. I grabbed the knob, pulled it open and started running. I got a pretty good head start too. I took off down the hall, running like a bat out of hell. Hey, there was a reason I ran every morning. Only part of it was to keep from being so lazy like Mike used to be. I was tired of being looked upon as someone less than they should have been. My father was a big track runner in high school; he was All State and everything. At my old school, there were several trophies in the display case and every morning I used to see them when I walked into school. They used to taunt me, showing me a life I could have had if it wasn’t so shitty. I’m sure my father would have helped me to follow in his footsteps. But all of that was shattered because some drunk jackass couldn’t show some restraint and not get behind the wheel.
I got to the end of the hall when I felt this overwhelming feeling of dread. My entire body seized up and I dropped to my knees. I’m not sure what was wrong with me but for some reason I just couldn’t run anymore. I didn’t feel like it. My entire body trembled and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. There was a laugh behind me and someone came down the hall. I turned my head, tears in my eyes. It was the blue haired bitch, laughing as she walked slowly down the hall. She had the biggest smile on her face.
“There you are,” she said, stopping about ten feet away. I looked at my hands, they were visible again. “You are a lot prettier than Barry reported.”
She put a hand on her hip, smiling. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Feeling a little depressed?”
I glared at her. “What did you do?”
She smirked. “I’m what you might call an Empath with Attitude. Unlike your little friends at the Center, I like to wear my feelings on my sleeve and sometimes I like to give those sleeves to other people.”
I groaned. The dread slipped away and I felt excited. Really excited. My nipples started to harden and I was moist between my legs. I moaned, rubbing my hands across my chest. This bitch was going to pay. I rubbed my nipples, giving them a good squeeze. She laughed even harder, walking over so she was only a few feet away, crouching down to look me right in the eye.
“You’re kinda pathetic you know that” she laughed. “You and your friends. You didn’t think you could slip in here without us knowing. Declan figured you’d try to pull something like this. In fact, he was counting on it. All of you’ve been a great interest to him for quite some time now.”
Declan? Did she just say Declan? I thought this whole thing was Dekker’s game. But if Declan was involved, Oh God. It was a setup, the whole damn thing. Not only that, it was the biggest trap imaginable. Declan was a nut job. If there’s one thing I knew from being Becca’s roommate, it was how much she couldn’t stand this guy. She told me all about him, all the crap he pulled, all the shit he wanted to do. He took over Section Four; he was there at Section One and killed the guy in charge there. Every day Becca said she regretted leaving the bastard alive instead of killing him.
She reached forward, grabbed a bit of my hair in her fingers and actually sniffed it. Yep, this girl was a real winner. “So beautiful” she said, stroking my cheek. All I could to was moan and play with my nipples some more.
“You’re a bitch,” I moaned, my voice laden with ecstasy.
She laughed. “When this is all over I can make you mine.”
Her hands moved down my chest, brushing against my breasts and stopping on the necklace dangling around my neck. To the naked eye, it was probably nothing more than a plain looking bauble. In most instances, you’d probably be right. But for me it was something else entirely. Ever since I got to the Center, the R&D team has been working on a way to keep my pheromones in check. After some rigorous tests, they’ve discovered that somehow jade seems to keep it at bay. I’m not sure why---there was some technical mumbo jumbo---but it worked. Well on everyone except Becca. Feeling her running her hands over my breasts was enough of a fake excite---she was doing it to me after all but maybe there was a way to turn things around.
“You like it” I moaned, barely containing myself. “Why don’t you take it? Consider it a gift from me to you.”
She smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.”
She slipped the necklace around my neck and as soon as she did, I saw the look on her face. I’ve only seen what the pheromones could do from a distance. I know what they do to Becca and I’ve seen what they can do to others. But most of the time, I turned invisible and disappeared before things got out of hand. Now, with her so close, things were interesting indeed. Double for her because she was an Empath. I’m not sure how much control she needed to keep me going but however much it was it didn’t seem to last very long. As soon as the necklace was off, it was like flipping a switch. Whatever whammy she was giving me, my pheromones probably turned it back on her times ten.
She screamed out, moaning and started writhing on the floor. It took me a few seconds to recover from my own orgasmic throes but as soon as I did, I clambered to my feet. She reached out for me, rolling about on the ground like a cat in heat. I smirked and disappeared. She screamed and I lashed out with a swift kick. My foot connected hard, snapping her head to the side. It wasn’t a deadly blow---I’m not a monster---but it was enough to knock the stupid bitch out. After that, I grabbed her legs and dragged her back to the room I’d been hiding in before. I took Bart off the floor, stole her keys and locked the door. Before I left, I took back my necklace, slipping it around my neck where it belonged. No point in having a repeat performance. If I was lucky, she’d be out cold for the remainder of the mission.
I didn’t even turn back. I made a decision about which way to go and ran as fast as I could. I needed to find the others before they blundered into a trap. I was running pretty strong, only paying half attention to where I was going. When I came around the corner and slammed right into something, I didn’t even know what it was until I landed on my butt. Staring down at me, in the trashy outfit imaginable was one of my best friends.
She looked down at me with a blank expression on her face. “Hi there” she said in a bimboish voice.
“Emma?”
“Do I know you?”
Oh shit.
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Becca:
I groaned when I finally managed to open my eyes. It was kinda embarrassing being knocked out all the time. I was supposed to be a team leader and I probably spent more time on the floor then my whole team combined. I sat up -- surprised I wasn’t strapped down-- and rubbed my head. The room was dark, which was perfect for me and there were no windows. I was lying on another cot, in a room that was a similar shape and size to the first room they put me in. I have to stop getting knocked in the head and waking up in places like this. I moved to take in the rest of my surroundings, noticing a few new things about my situation. For one I was clad only in a bra and another, I had a bandage on my shoulder. I twisted my body---not feeling the pain I should---and looked at work. Someone was pretty skilled; it was a field dressing.
I looked around the room, hoping to find something to cover up with. When that jackass stabbed me with the knife, it cut clean through Barry’s jacket, my shirt and the Second Skin. I could still feel the Skin on me but there was a bare spot where someone cut it away to dress my wound. Though I felt no pain there, it was still pretty tender. I’m glad that most of the pain was over now; I probably succumbed to it while unconscious. I guess being knocked out has some advantages. But that still didn’t mean I enjoyed the practice. It was kind of jarring waking up in a strange place, sometimes with strange and crazy people all around you. I thought I was done with it all after I left Section Four but apparently, I was losing my touch. It was one thing to let Brock get the drop on me with that knife but for Brainwashed Barry to do it only a few seconds later. I was really starting to slip…
I finally found something. There was a blanket lying on the floor, it was probably covering me at one time. I climbed off the cot, my shoulder was a little stiff but I managed to pick up the blanket. As soon as I did, I heard someone coming down the hall. I quickly slipped into the corner and listened. It was a small someone, moving slowly, with little feet. It was a familiar sound, one that I didn’t expect to hear anymore. The person stopped in front of my door and it slowly opened. A head peeked inside and I heard a soft feminine voice:
“Becca?”
Déjá vu? It was Diana. I watched her for a few seconds, looking for any tell tale signs that she might be brainwashed like Barry and Emma. But she looked normal enough, if a little battered. There was a bruise on her cheek and her top lip was swollen. It made my skin crawl to think those bastards would hurt such a sweet girl. I watched as she continued to search for me in the dark. She didn’t act brainwashed either. But then again Emma acted like a semi-normal person. It could all be an act. I needed to know for sure so I paid careful attention to her eyes. For some reason the eyes were important. I’m not sure why but both Emma and Barry seemed so alive when I looked into their eyes.
Looking at Diana’s eyes, I could see she was still with me. There was no despair or pleading in them.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. “Close the door” I said, softly.
She jumped, startled by my presence. Then she quickly shut the door behind her.
“I brought you a clean shirt” she fumbled into the room, trying to find her way to the cot no doubt.
I grabbed her hand gently and guided her over, helping her sit on it. She was trembling and her arm was so cold. I sat next to her and put my arm around her. She dropped the shirt on the ground, rested her head on my shoulder and cried. She cried for a long time. I whispered soothing words into her ear, telling her that everything was going to be ok. In truth, the two of us were in hell. A hell that there didn’t seem to be any escape from. But I couldn’t tell this poor traumatized girl that.
Diana stopped crying finally, wiping her eyes and grabbing the shirt from the ground. “I was worried about you, seeing you lying there like that in the hall.”
In the hall? “Did you find me?”
She nodded. “There’s some crazy stuff going on here. Some people blew a door on the south side of the facility and have breached it. We thought it was another one of your diversions to escape until the gun fire started.” She burst into tears again. “They killed Reggie. He tried to fight back but a female soldier shot him where he stood.”
I bit my lip. I wanted to comfort her for the death of her friend but at the same time I was pretty certain it was my team. Who else could it be? “I’m sorry about your friend” I finally managed.
She shook her head. She looked up at me and even though there were tears in her eyes, she was smiling. “He was the worst. The son of a bitch got what he deserved. I’ve just never seen anyone killed before.”
I nodded. I needed some information. “Can you tell me how many people there are?”
She shook her head. “It happened fast. There were at least two soldiers and two guys, about our age. When the shooting started, everyone ran. One of the guys took off after Tobias, he ran through the wall.” I smiled, so it was them. It was only a matter of time then. “I ran too. I was going for the exit and that’s when I found you lying there. I thought you were dead. I saw the stab on your arm but luckily for you it looked cauterized too.”
Probably when the hot knife went in. I urged her to continue.
She took a deep breath. “So I made sure you were all right and I dragged you here. There was a lot of shouting by then. But I was able to get you this far without being noticed. I dressed your wound and after I left to get you a shirt I ran into that new girl, Emma” She shuddered. “I’m sorry but I had to tell her that you were here. She asked me what I was doing and I told her I caught you. It was the only thing I could think of to keep her from dragging me back to Declan. She’s strong; she had one of them on her shoulder already, a red head girl.”
I bit my lip, forcing back my anger. Stella. I was so going to kick Declan’s ass for this. Diana burst into more tears, burying her head in my chest. I soothed her again, rubbing her back. We sat like this for a while but I needed answers. I hated being the heartless bitch but we didn’t have time for the crying game. I took a deep breath and gently pulled her away.
“Where’s Declan and the others?”
She shook her head. “If I know him he’s probably holed up in the west office, he always goes there. It used to belong to the facility administrator. It’s heavily fortified now. Miles will be there too and Jasmine if she’s not already dead.” I nodded. “Are these your friends? The ones from the Center?”
I nodded. She smiled real big. “They’re here to get me and Emma.”
“Do you think they’ll take me too?”
I smiled. “I’ll make them take you.”
This time she laughed and threw her arms around my neck, wrapping me in a big hug. She hung off me for a little bit. I laughed too then gently pushed her away again. “But in order to do that, you need to get me out of here.”
Diana nodded, passing me the shirt. But before she did so, she pulled something out from underneath it. “I found this on you. I think it’s yours?”
This time I smiled. It was the P. Gun, now we were talking.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Fifteen by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's 15...things are starting to wind down in Declan's crazy funland. There's a nice cliffhanger at the end. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing.
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Chapter Fifteen:
Everything was quiet now. I’m not sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing. Diana was leading the way and being awfully cautious about it, too. A few minutes ago, there was a burst of gunfire from another part of the facility and she refused to move for a minute or two. She was convinced that our odds of escaping had lessened after that little burst. But I knew better. It helped that I could hear a lot of what was going on. The gunfire was definitely my team, which meant someone from Declan’s little group probably was no longer with us. I was hoping it was the fucking Dominator but I wasn’t that lucky. Especially not today.
We reached the end of another hallway, Diana stopped at the corner. She poked her head around it and sighed. “We should be almost there,” she said softly.
After we left the room, she wanted to take me straight to the exit. It took everything I had to convince her that there was no way I was leaving here without my team, and that included Emma. She tried to talk me out of it, claiming my people seemed pretty well equipped to take care of themselves and that this was our only chance. I understood she was afraid but there was no way I was leaving anyone behind. They came for me, risked their lives to save me and there was no way I was going to run off while they needed me. I’m not sure Diana grasped that concept fully but I was able to convince her that it was imperative that this little operation be shut down immediately. She reluctantly accepted that to be the truth. So instead of the exit, she was now leading me to Declan’s office.
Luckily, the two of us had encountered little opposition along the way. Which could be luck or a big trap. I’m not saying that Diana would willingly lead me into one---even though there was a small part of me that didn’t really trust her---but things like that happened. The biggest thing that bothered me at the moment was the lack of noise. Only a few minutes ago I heard a lot of running, some shouting, even the sporadic pop of gunfire. Now everything was too quiet. I reached out with my ears, trying to pick up even the smallest bit of sound. I heard Diana’s heartbeat, my own and those of a few others nearby. I sighed when I heard those, glad that there was someone else alive and kicking.
Diana fidgeted. “We can still go, there’s still time.”
I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong?”
She bit her lip. “Miles is there. I can sense his power. He’s in there with Declan and your friend, the computer expert.”
I nodded. So that’s why she was so scared. “What about the others?”
Diana sighed and closed her eyes. When she first explained her power to me, I wasn’t really sure I understood what she could do. She said that Declan called her a Sensor, it’s a form of telepathy wherein she could reach out with her mind and sense what kind of Emergent you are or were going to be. So far, he’d used her to find Reggie, Kat and Brock. There were others too, other people he had on a list in his office. She wasn’t sure how many but there were a lot. She wasn’t sure where Declan got his list but he was protective of it. The only time she ever saw it herself was when he wanted her to go out into the field with him and scan for a new potential. The last one they picked up was Kat, that was about two weeks ago. They found her in Ontario, visiting Niagara Falls with her family. Declan and Miles didn’t really give her much of a choice.
That pissed me off. It was one thing that Declan was willingly recruiting these kids to his cause but to force them to join him was madness. This needed to stop. My people were killing these kids and some of them didn’t deserve to die like this.
I took a deep breath. Diana sighed, opening her eyes. “I can’t sense any of the others nearby. There was something a few seconds ago, I thought it was Brock but he disappeared after the gun fire.”
I nodded. Did that mean what I thought it did?
I groaned. Before we continued any further I needed some answers. I looked around the hall and spotted a room a few feet away. I grabbed Diana’s shoulder and pulled her over, pushing open the door and dragging her inside. She looked scared, like I was going to hit her. But I shook my head and gently closed the door behind me. Diana eased up a little, sitting in the room’s only chair. Me, I went over to the window and closed the blinds. The morning sun was pouring in and I wasn’t ready to get a face full of it.
“You’re not angry with me are you?”
I shook my head. “I need to know how many of you have been forced here against your will.”
She sighed and nodded. She took a deep breath. “Before I changed, Declan came to me. He said I was special, said I could help me make a difference in the world. He was pretty persuasive. He told me how special I was and how the world was full of special people just like me. He showed me his powers, what he could do. I can honestly say that I was pretty dam impressed.” I smiled and nodded. “He convinced me to run away from home and come with him. I’m not sure how he knew I was like him but it didn’t take long for the change to happen. About a week or so. He took me to his little hideout; it was an abandoned house in a part of town where no one went. I was the first one there. There was another girl too but she was never there, she was off doing something. I think her name was Scarlet.”
I interrupted. “Scarlet?” That was that psycho who pretended to be my friend, the one that Declan used to fuck with everyone at Section Four. “How long ago was all this?”
Diana stopped and thought. “About five or six months ago.”
Holy shit. Declan’s been running this little rogue group of his that long. How in the hell did he do it under the Syndicate’s nose. “You were the first?”
She nodded. “The first of our little group. After recruiting me, Declan disappeared for a while. He told me he was off to find more soldiers. He was gone a long time. I was on my own forever but that was cool. A couple of weeks later, Jasmine came. The two of us became really good friends. She said Declan sent her. We did a lot together during those first weeks. We were as thick as thieves and then something changed. Declan came back up night, battered and beaten. His clothes were charred, his hair singed. He was angry about something, cursing and spitting mad. He was alone, too. Usually when he came back after long periods of being away, he had Scarlet with him. But apparently, something happened, something bad. He changed after that, he became angrier and different.”
She stopped to take a breath. “Jasmine changed too. I’m not sure, if he was doing it to her or if it was the change in the tactics. He started making me look for people for him. He had this list and he kept pointing to names on the list. That’s how we found Miles. He was living on the streets, post-Emergence. I’m not sure who he was before but now he was a wreck. Declan helped him, fed him and clothed him. When Declan found out what Miles could do, everything was different. The two of them started going off together. It’d been a month since he came back all charred and now he was a different person. He went off alone one night with a rifle, said he had something to do. We were in Maine then and when he came back later he was even grumpier.”
Maine. That must have been the night he killed Phillips at Section One. “That was the first time I saw him since we escaped Section Four,” I said, filling in the blanks. “It was about a month after the escape, my second mission in so many days for the Center.”
Diana nodded. “That’s the first time I heard your name. He became obsessed with you after that. He kept talking about you and a plan. He wanted you so much. We started gathering others; Reggie, Brock and Kat, but you were always on his mind. About a week or so after the Maine incident, we moved again and Tobias came. After that we really ran. We ran far and fast. We went to New York, slipped onto a cargo vessel and fled to England. That’s the first time I heard about the plan. It’s also the first time I refused to play by his rules. He was forcing me to use my powers to find people. Before he was cool about it, he’d come and ask me gently. But after miles, things changed. When I refused, he made Miles do it.”
She stopped and started crying. I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. She cried onto my shoulder for several minutes. I held her, telling her everything was going to be all right. After a while, she pulled away, wiped her eyes and sighing, nodding that she was ready to continue.
“I tried to talk Jasmine and Miles into helping me escape. At first, I thought the two of them were going to help me. You see, there’s this thing about Dominators. They can control other people but they can’t control other Dominators, their powers cancel each other out. I thought maybe Miles could control some of the others, get them to turn on Declan.” She started to tear up again. “That’s the first time I realized I was on my own. They beat me pretty good.” She shuddered, rubbing her arms. “That was a week ago. Ever since then they haven’t let me out of their sight. When you and your team arrived a few days ago, they made me follow you around. I was the only one who could sense you, tell them where you were going. I was with Jasmine the night you and that other guy met her in the alley outside the club. I wanted to scream out to you and tell you it was a trap but Brock was nearby as well and he would have…”
I nodded, squeezing her hand. “I think I know the rest,” I said and she nodded.
She finally got back to my original question. “I’m not sure how many of us are being forced by Miles. The only one I know of for sure is Katrina. She was a lot like me when she got here. I wasn’t even sure why Declan wanted her; most of the others had powers useful to him. I figured it out when I met you though. It’s her power, her ability to control the light. He wanted her as insurance in case you didn’t cooperate. When those two---Brock and Tobias---came to get you they were taking you to Kat. She was going to use her powers to force you into submission. If that didn’t work Declan was going to order Miles to do his thing on you.”
“Why hasn’t he already?”
She smiled. “In order for Miles to control you, he has to look you in the eyes the first time you meet. Seeing as you were unconscious the first time they brought you here he wasn’t able to look into your eyes.” I nodded. “So as long as you keep your eyes closed when he’s around, you should be fine.”
I nodded. Good to know.
Diana opened her mouth to say something more but I stopped her when I heard a noise in the hallway. I held up my hand, she closed her mouth. I walked over to the door and listened. There was someone coming and they weren’t alone. I took a chance and opened the door a crack. What I saw caused the color to drain from my face. It was my team or rather most of them. I saw Connor, Kit and Samson being led down the hallway, Emma on one side and someone else on the other. It was a guy but he didn’t look all that foreboding. He was tall with a mop of brown hair and glasses. Who wore dark clothes and had a bit of a swagger. Diana slipped up behind me and I heard her intake of breath. I watched as they went passed, wondering where Brad could be? I felt a pang at the thought of him being dead.
I closed the door. Diana looked restless. “That was Miles,” she said softly.
It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, I cursed. Miles had my team. This was going to make things a whole helluva lot harder. I sighed, turning my back on the door and sliding to the floor. Diana walked over to the chair, dropping into it. She looked like someone who just lost their puppy. I couldn’t blame her; I was feeling pretty down myself. I was counting on my team to cause a bit more of a distraction while I went in there and put Declan down for good. But with them captured and possibly brainwashed, that was going to complicate things a great deal. Ideas started popping into my head but no matter how hard I tried there was no way I could get around harming my friends. I had five darts in the P Gun and more targets than I wanted. My best shot would be to get Miles but I’m sure he’d have some kind of protection. What could would that do because as soon as I looked at him I’d be a zombie like the others.
The only way I could nail him was to sneak up on him and that was impossible.
“We’re screwed aren’t we?”
I opened my mouth to say “totally” when I heard something. Diana perked up a split second later and then Brad stepped through the wall. He looked around the room, squinting in the dark. He seemed confused and tired and something else. He stumbled and I rushed over to catch him as he fell. Diana was up and at his side a second later. The two of us carried him over to her chair. Diana checked him over but I could already see there were no wounds thank God. He was clearly exhausted though.
“Brad, you ok?”
When he heard my voice, his eyes opened and he sighed. It took him a few seconds to respond. “Oh sure, we do all this crap and you’ve already freed yourself”
I laughed I couldn’t help it. It definitely wasn’t the time for it but it was so good to see he was ok. My emotions took over after that. Before I knew what was happening, I grabbed his head and planted the longest kiss imaginable on his lips. When I was finally done and pulled away, he had this sheepish smile on his face. Then he winched, clutching his side. I lifted his shirt, saw what appeared to be a large purplish bruise and wanted to hold him until we passed out. Instead Diana touched the bruise with her fingers and he winced some more.
“Broken rib, possibly more than one’ she said, sighing.
“That sister of mine has a mean right hook,” he said, wincing as I lowered his shirt.
“Emma did this?” He nodded. “What happened?”
He sighed. “We breached a door to get into this place and then an alarm went off. We left her behind and went off to look for you. I’m not sure what happened to her but we ran into a little problem. There was some freak throwing cards. Kit dropped him with a shot to the head. It happened so quick that none of us knew what was happening. It was like a reflex. After that two more of them came. A girl who was shooting what can only be described as light balls at us and that jackass Tobias. We took them out---non-lethally---then moved on. We moved on after that, securing our prisoners until we ran into a really nasty pyro. He got the drop on us, burned Connor pretty good. He put up a damn good fight, almost got all us until I pulled him into the floor by his ankles. After that, Samson put him out. That’s when Emma and the Dominator came. I tried to talk reason into her but he did something to her. She wasn’t my sis anymore. She punched me in the side before I could react, sent me flying into the wall. Luckily, I kicked in before impact or it would have hurt like hell. I went through the wall, a couple of them in fact, before I stopped.” He took a deep breath, wincing as he did so. When I finally stopped flying through walls, I doubled back but it was already too late. The Dominator had the others. He tried to get me too…”
Brad was unique. I’m not sure how or why but Dominators didn’t seem to have any effect on him. That was another reason why I wanted him on the team. He was a valued second offense in case my team was compromised. My original idea was to include Marcus as well but after our last mission together, he was still recovering. Fighting Dominators was a taxing ordeal and that bitch Anastasia took a lot out of him. He was currently in the clinic, trying to recover from the mental lashing she gave him. It’s a shame really, because with Marcus’ mental shielding there would have been no way that Miles could have gotten the others.
Brad took another breath and continued. “After that I went from room to room, trying to see if I could put some distance between them and me. I think I got lost though. That’s when I stumbled in here and you know the rest.”
Diana gasped. “Miles’ power doesn’t work on you?” Brad nodded; she smiled real big. “He’s it; he’s the chance we have. With him, we can take out the son of a bitch for sure.”
I was happy that Diana was so happy but there was no way I was going to let Brad anywhere near that room. He looked like hell and his ribs seriously fucked up. Brad had other plans though. He pushed himself up out of the chair, wincing as he did so. He wobbled a bit but righted himself. He couldn’t see us in the dark of the room but he nodded in her general direction.
“Not happening,” I said, “it’s too dangerous. You could get yourself seriously hurt doing something this reckless.”
“Not your choice” he said, there was an edge to his voice. “That bastard has my sister. He’s not going to live through this.”
I couldn’t argue with that even though I wanted to. Instead, I sighed and nodded.
____________________________________
Diana and I moved quietly down the hall, she led the way. Brad went on ahead; it was a part of the plan. Not that we had much of one but seeing as how he was the only one that Miles couldn’t affect I needed him to disappear and become the last line of defense. He wasn’t too happy about it but he understood the situation. As much as I wanted to see him rip out Miles heart, he was too emotional right now. We were all a bit emotional but I needed someone with a straight head, someone who wouldn’t charge stupidly into the room and start making demands. Someone who wasn’t about to do what I was about to do. Ok, yeah so I’m about to do the opposite of what I should be doing but I needed to let them think they had me.
We stopped at the end of the hall, Diana sighed. “Are you sure about this?”
I turned to her; I could see the fear written all over her face. She knew the plan as well as I did. She was afraid she was putting me at risk but it was the only way the two of us could get safely into the room. “We have to do it this way,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
She nodded. “I hope you’re sure about this.”
She pulled my hands behind my back and slipped a plastic tie around my wrists. Then she took a deep breath and gave me a little shove forward. She needed to sell it. I stumbled, making it look like I was in pain. I needed to sell it too, and the only way either of us could do that was to be as realistic as possible. It was a good bet that Declan had the hallway monitored. Even though Barry took out the security from before I was pretty certain that a guy like Declan wouldn’t keep the security around his office on the same network as the rest. He was unhinged after all and probably paranoid. I’m sure he had the whole hallway monitored.
When we rounded the corner, my suspicions were justified. Not only did he have cameras in the hall, I could see them, he also had security. Of course, they were my teammates. Kit was standing on one side of the door, Samson on the other. Both of them looked all right though you could see they were struggling for control. Like Emma and Barry, I saw it in their eyes. Even though the two of them stood as stone cold sentinels on either side of the door, their eyes followed me. I could see the disappointment in them and the sorrow. I think they thought I escaped. I wish I could tell them that everything was going to be all right. But their minds were the only things that seemed to be intact, well at least partially. They were puppets now, being controlled by a very dangerous puppeteer.
I felt Diana tense behind me as we approached the door. I could hear her heart beating like a drum and I could her sweat. Hang in there, Diana; you’re doing good.
“What is this?” asked Samson, giving me a once over.
“Becca Howe” stammered Diana. “I caught her trying to escape.”
Kit scoffed. “You caught her?”
“You have a problem with that?”
Both soldiers gave each other the eye but neither of them said anything else.
Diana took that as confirmation that she was allowed to proceed. She walked up to the door; it opened before she got there. So they were clearly watching the hallway. When the door was fully open, I saw Connor on the other side of it. He looked a little more roughed up then the others. Brad had said he’d been burned and I could see it on his arms. It wasn’t overly noticeable but his left hand was wrapped in bandages and when he moved, he winced. So clearly, he was in pain. But there was something else about him, something different than the wooden puppets outside. When I looked in his eyes, there was no sorrow or pain there. I stared at him for a whole minute and then he winked. Son of a bitch. It was quick but it was there. Connor wasn’t a zombie.
“Bring her here,” said Declan.
I looked past Connor to the man in charge. This room was bigger than the rest in the facility. It reminded me a lot of Phillip’s office at Section One. There were glass windows behind the desk, a sofa to one side, filing cabinets to the other. The cabinets were toppled on their side though, made into a makeshift stand for a large LCD TV set. There was a Playstation 3 hooked up to it. The game on the screen was paused. Next to it was a stack of video games and BluRays. So clearly, Declan was as male as he appeared to be. But there was something else about him, something I didn’t really pay much attention to before. He was sitting with his feet up on the desk, his ankles crossed. He looked thinner and his hair was at his shoulders now. When I saw him before I thought the stress was making him eat less but it was more than that. On the desk in front of him was a compact and I could swear he was wearing makeup.
What the hell was that about?
“Becky” he said, smiling. “So nice of you to finally join us.”
I groaned. Becky made me sound like a ten-year-old. He smirked. He only called me that because he knew it pissed me off.
"Cut her ties please" said Declan, waving off the matter like it was nothing.
Clearly he trusted me that much. Connor walked about behind me like a robot and slit the plastic ties from my wrists. Before walking away, he whispered in my ear. "I'll move whenever you give the go ahead."
"Too risky" I whispered back as he stepped away.
I looked over at the sofa, sitting there was Barry and the nerdy kid from before; the one Diana said was Miles. I stared at the little bastard, trying to show I wasn’t afraid. I knew the implications of staring at him, I knew what that meant. He stared right back, the corners of his mouth curling up in a wicked smile. Smile all you want you bastard. I looked at the other person in the room. Emma was sitting on the corner of Declan’s desk, wearing the tightest denim skirt known to man. Her legs were crossed in a seductive manner and she was filing her nails. She looked even more like a tramp than before. I looked in her eyes and saw the same pain that the others had.
“Diana” said Declan, addressing my supposed Captor. “I’m impressed. I underestimated you and I’m sorry. Why don’t you walk over to the couch and join the others.”
I felt her tense up behind me. She took a deep breath and slowly walked away from me. She sat on the couch, slipping in-between Barry and Miles. Miles smiled at her as she sat down.
Declan picked a glass of wine off the desktop and sipped slowly.
“You and your friends have caused quite the problem. You…” he trailed off, as if realizing something. “Where’s the other one? Your friend, Brad?” I shrugged.
He groaned. “Hey Blondie, go find your brother and bring him here.”
Emma stopped filing her nails. “I have a brother?”
Declan groaned, casting Miles an angry look. The bespectacled Dominator shrugged. Declan turned back to Emma. “He’s tall and blonde; he’s not that hard to miss.”
Emma giggled, slipping off the desk. She pecked Declan on the cheek and sashayed out of the room, mincing off on four-inch heels. Declan rolled his eyes and took another sip of his wine. He cast Miles another nasty look then turned his attention back to me. “Good help is so hard to find.”
I scoffed. “Or brainwash.”
Declan gave me a sour expression. “Yes, well sometimes a little persuasion is needed in order to achieve your goal.”
“What’s the matter, Frankie, can’t make friends of your own so you control them instead.”
I saw the anger flare. I wanted to piss him off. I wanted to push him as far as I could. Angry people made mistakes and that’s what I needed. Ok, so I can honestly admit that my plan pretty much ended here. I wanted to get into this room and I achieved that goal. Anything from this moment on was me winging it. But maybe I wasn’t as outnumbered as I thought I was. I cast a sideway glance at Connor. He was still standing near the door. He was pretending to be the good little soldier but we both knew better. He seemed to talk with his eyes, looking at Miles and then over to Declan. I responded with mine too. I think I knew what he wanted but there was no way I could pull the two of them into a fight together. Pissing Declan off was easy but I knew next to nothing about Miles.
No, the best chance any of us had was Brad.
I looked over to the couch, searching each of the faces there. Diana was nervous, fidgeting. When my gaze fell on Barry, he averted his eyes. So clearly, he was no longer a zombie. There was a bruise on his cheek and the beginnings of a black eye forming. So, my beating was starting to show. Looking at Miles only produced a shiver up my spine. He turned and looked at me. I was already in his control or at least now, I could be. I’m not sure how I felt about that. Obviously, this guy took a lot of pride in making people his bitches. Before, I thought, Connor was a smug jackass but looking at Miles, he took jackass to a whole new level. He was powerful, quite possibly the most powerful one in the room and he knew it. That was definitely unsettling.
“So what’s it going to be?” said Declan, forcing me to turn my attention back to him. “Are you going to join me willingly or are you going to join your friends in ignorant bliss?”
I looked over at Connor again. He had a lot of knowledge bouncing around in his head, he boasted about it all the time. But even now, I could see that he was just as stuck as I was. I turned back to Declan.
“Release my friends first and I’ll consider the offer.”
He laughed. “What so they can go crawling back to your precious Center and bring the shit storm down on me.”
“It’s the only way you’re going to get me to join you willingly.”
He picked up his glass and drained it in one gulp. He set it down on the desktop and sighed. He looked from me to Miles and back to me again. “As much as I’d love to have you as a willing participant in my little grand scheme, I’m afraid that I can’t risk disobedience.”
Miles smirked and slowly got to his feet. “I’m going to take great pride in this one.”
I took a step back and he took a step forward. Son of a bitch. A wave of dizziness swept over me and I felt drowsy. My lips got real heavy and my eyelids started to flutter. I stumbled, falling into the far wall. Miles advanced slowly and his face seemed to fill my head. I heard his voice as it bounced about in my mind, whispering to me, telling me everything was going to be ok. I tried to fight it but it was strong, too strong for me. It was nice, gentle, and happy. My eyelids fluttered some more and got really heavy. I couldn’t fight it anymore and closed my eyes.
As soon as I did, darkness surrounded me.
Something clicked inside of me and my eyes snapped open. The room was cast in darkness, the bodies taking on the telltale glow that I was so familiar with. Miles’ voice was still there but it was like a dull echo now. I heard it trying to force its way into my head but it didn’t matter anymore. I looked around the room, seeing everyone standing where they were. Everything was in slow motion; Miles had stopped moving and looked confused. I was in the Dark World again, the place that I knew very little bout. For the longest time I thought the ability was gone. It was strongest back when I was at Section Four, the only other person whoever knew about it was Trish. She said it wasn’t unheard of for Emergents to have secondary powers but she wanted me to keep this one to myself. So I hid it from everyone, including Declan.
But after I left Section Four, it seemed to disappear. I thought maybe it was gone for good until it returned again while I was at Section One. Melanie Crane tried to force one of her illusions onto me and I fought it off by going into this realm. I’m not sure how it works but somehow when I’m in serious trouble it snaps in. I guess now constituted as one of those troublesome times.
Miles voice finally reached me but it sounded slow and dumb: “What did you do, bitch?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I took the opportunity and charged him. The pressure points on his body seemed to glow like beacons. That was one of the advantages of this little ability of mine. I got up pretty close and slammed my fist into the one in his arm. I saw a look of shock on the bastard’s face. He stumbled back, clasping his limp arm. Around the room, everyone had a look of shock on their face. Everyone except Declan. He seemed to be smiling. He looked right at me and smiled even bigger. Did he know what was going on? As if to answer, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled something out of it. It was a gun; he pointed it directly at me.
His voice shattered the darkness: “Enough games. Back off or I put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours.”
“NO!” Another voice blasted through the darkness, one coming from my left.
I snapped around and saw Diana. She was standing now, the P Gun in her hand. She took it earlier to make it look like she really caught me. Now she had it pointed directly at Declan. Her body was shaking and tears were flowing down her cheeks. Clearly, she was damn serious about this. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, the room came rushing back to me, the darkness vanished. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Miles was resting against the desk, cradling his arm. Barry and Connor were standing there, trying to figure out what was going on and Diana and Declan were both pointing guns. One was at me and the other was at him.
“Drop your gun, little girl or I’ll drop her,” said Declan as calm and cool as ever.
“Not on your life, you son of a bitch” snapped Diana, tears streaming down her face. “I’m going to make you pay for everything you’ve done.”
I bit my lip. As much as I wanted to see her pull that trigger, I knew I couldn’t let her do it. Diana was a frail and fragile creature. If she pulled that trigger, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. I knew she was hurting and I knew how much revenge seemed to be the answer. But I also knew that it would consume her and no matter how much killing Declan might quell it, she’d just find something else to fuel her anger. Killing him would only sate it for the time being.
“Diana” I said softly, moving slowly toward her. “Lower the gun, killing him isn’t the answer.”
“Listen to her” snapped Declan
I glared at him.
“He has to die” she sobbed, “He’s a monster.”
I nodded. “He is but he can be a monster rotting in a cell for the rest of his life.”
I saw Diana’s resolve waver. I knew she wanted to hurt him but she wasn’t a killer. She knew that, too. Her hand wavered for a slight second. She sighed and lowered the gun. As soon as she did, Miles jumped to his feet. I saw the look on Diana’s face, the glassy, doll like expression take over. Her hand snapped back up and the gun went to her chest, the barrel hovering over her heart. Declan laughed, I screamed. Miles smirked, Diana’s tears continued to roll down her cheeks. The situation went from resolution to nightmare in a matter of seconds.
“Let her go” I screamed.
Miles smirked. “I’ll let her go.”
What happened next was in a split second. I heard the shot but I didn’t even have time to react to it. No one did. One minute Miles was standing there, smirking, looking like the smug jackass he was. The next minute a bullet burst through the window behind him and slammed into the back of his head. It happened so fast. He was caught in a laugh, his entire face went blank and his head snapped forward. The bullet exploded the back of his head and his lifeless body dropped to the floor. Everything after that seemed to take place in slow motion. I looked out the shattered glass fro a split second before I hit the floor. I saw a man clad in black, crouched in a tree. I expected another muzzle flash but none came. When I hit the floor, Diana hit it right at the same time.
I panicked and crawled over to her, thinking she’d been hit.
I checked her pulse but she was unconscious. Connor crawled over to me. “I got her, you stop them.”
Them? I looked up. In the chaos, Barry and Declan made a mad dash for the door. I jumped to my feet and ran after them. Out in the hall, Kit and Samson were slumped unconscious too. So clearly killing a Dominator meant his puppets were freed from his power. That was good to know. I looked at my unconscious teammates for a split second before I ran after the two fleeing guys. Declan had a big head start but Barry was only a few feet ahead. I shouted his name and he stopped, turning toward me. The look of desperation in his eyes told me there was no way he was ever going to come back with me.
“I can’t” he said, “They’ll lock me up and throw away the key.”
My heart sank. I knew it was true. “I can’t let you go.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry for everything. I really did love you.”
I smiled, a tear rolling down my cheek. “I love you too.”
He smiled and turned to go and that’s when I heard them.
Two shots sounded in the quiet hall.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Sixteen by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Ch. 16...it starts with sorrow and ends in surprise. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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Chapter Sixteen:
Everything happened in slow motion. I heard the shots, I even saw the bullets. But all of it was too late for any kind of reaction. I’m not even sure where they came from, all I know was one minute Barry was standing there talking to me and the next he was falling forward. My entire world seemed to stop in that moment. Someone screamed, it took me a few seconds to realize it was me. I ran forward, catching him as he tumbled backwards to the floor in front of me. He collapsed into my arms, pulling me to the floor with him. The world snapped back into full motion after that. I was still screaming, tears streaming down my face. Both bullets hit him, one in the lower stomach, the other higher. Blood swelled from the two wounds, blooming out from the small holes like giant red flowers. I pressed my hands to them, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it was no use.
“Barry” I sobbed, “you have to stay with me now.”
He smiled, his lips barely parting. His skin was already starting to go pale. I could see the life leeching out of him. He gently grabbed my hands, trying to push them away from his chest. The abdominal shot was enough to kill him, the blood there almost black. The one in the chest was even worse; it was so close to his heart. Tears ran down my face, mingling with the blood. I groaned. There was so much of it, flowing over my fingers.
He reached up, gently stroking my hair. “Becca, I’m sorry. I should have never agreed to this stupid plan of his.”
I shook my head. “Don’t talk, please don’t talk.”
He wouldn’t listen. “If I’d of known how much of a wonderful person you were, I would have never done any of it.”
I sobbed. “You’re talking crazy. You’ll be ok.”
“I only regret not being able to get to know you longer. You’re a great person, the best person I’ve ever met.”
“Please” I begged, my tears flowing hotly. “You can’t do this to me. Not now, not after all this.”
“You have to promise me one thing” His voice was a whisper. I nodded. “You can’t seek revenge for this. I know you, it’ll eat you up inside and I can’t let you do that for me. Trish wouldn’t have wanted it either. You need to stop all this nonsense. Revenge isn’t the answer. It’s never the answer; promise me you’ll let this go.”
I nodded. He smiled. “I promise.”
No more revenge. If that’s what he wanted then that’s what he’d get.
“Good girl” he said and then his hand dropped away.
I’m not sure when I knew he was gone but as soon as I did I screamed at the top of my lungs. There was running behind me, several people, but I didn’t pay much attention. Someone got to me first, put a hand on my shoulder. I heard Connor’s voice but I pushed the hand away. No revenge. Connor came at me again, grabbed my arms. He lifted me off the ground while someone else took care of Barry. I think it might have been Diana. I was barely paying attention now. I was looking down the hall, toward where the shooter had been standing. I’d been in too much shock to realize who it was but now I was certain. It was Declan, his face was so clear now. He stopped at the end of the hall, waiting for Barry to catch up. But when Barry stopped, I only half registered the look of anger on Declan’s face. That’s when he fired, that’s when he took the second most important person in my life from me.
No revenge.
“Becca” said a voice as someone gently shook me. “Becca, are you there?”
Connor was shaking me. But I didn’t pay much attention. I was still looking down the hall. Declan had a good head start but he couldn’t have gotten that far. There was only so much hall and really only one place to go. No revenge but maybe justice. Justice is different than revenge right, Batman sought justice instead of revenge, didn’t he? I finally acknowledged Connor. I turned toward him and smiled. He smiled too, he let out a sigh. I think he thought I was going crazy. But I wasn’t crazy, I was pissed off. Before he could react, I lunged for his holster. I pulled the pistol free and pushed him away. He stumbled back, nearly falling over Diana in the process.
I turned and ran. I ran as fast as I could. I heard Connor shout for me and give chase. But I had a good start on him. I ran down to the end of the hall, whipped around the corner and took off down the new hall like a bat out of hell. People kept dying around me, good people, taken long before their time. The two most important people, killed right in front of me. Barry was right, revenge wasn’t the answer. But justice was another story. I’d catch up with the bastard and make him pay. Maybe I’d kill him; maybe I’d just beat him senseless. Regardless, there was no way he was getting away from me, not now, not ever again. I ran hard and fast.
I went down one hall and then another. There were flights of stairs I went down too because I had a pretty good idea where Declan was going. It was the same place that Barry tried to take me. It was the only place to escape. I just needed to get there before he got away. If he did, there was no telling what kind of things he could accomplish. He’d raise another army, possibly a stronger one. He didn’t have his super Dominator anymore but the little bastard was resourceful. He’d probably go crawling back to his Daddy and everything would be all right. He’d plead and beg and Carson would take back his weasel of a son. As soon as that happened, there’d be no way I could touch him.
I finally reached the hall where Barry had tried to stop me before. The door at the end was wide open. I ran full speed toward it. I tore into a large garage, not unlike the one at Section Four. Except this one only had a few vehicles and there was only one door out of there. It was a large metal one and it was slowly rising. I looked around, frantic. There were two SUVS and the van. But on the other side of both I saw a sleek BMW. It wasn’t a convertible like I expected but its passenger was who I expected. I saw his mop of blonde hair, the smug satisfied look on his face. He thought he was getting out of here scot free. Like hell. I tore into the room; my pounding footfall caught his attention. He turned to me and I saw the panic in his eyes. I bet he thought he got me with one of those bullets. I bet he thought popping Barry was going to turn me into a pile of mush. But I’m not that kind of girl.
I raised my gun and fired. The window was already rolling up when I did so. I squeezed off two more shots before my first one even got there. The first shot was the only one that made it through before the window fully went up. The last two hit the glass, spider webbing it, saving him. The first whizzed at his head. It was a good shot but off by a fraction. Instead of hitting him directly in the head, it tore by his left ear, tearing the top half of it. I heard him scream from the confides of his car. I saw the anguish on his face, the look of total shock that I actually shot him. He thrashed and clutched his head; the pain was probably unbearable.
I ran forward and fired two more shots, both hit the windshield. The bastard had bullet proof glass but that didn’t stop me. Using my super sight, I fired bullet after bullet into the same spot, one after another until I emptied the entire clip. The last two made it through. Unfortunately, I was at the wrong angle and they tore into the seat around his head. He recovered after that, my shots shocking him back into reality. He revved the engine; put it in reverse and fishtailed right for me. For a moment, fear gripped me. Something else gripped me too, something surreal and calm. He was going to barrel right into me and I didn’t care. Let it be done, let the world be rid of me.
The son of a bitch was smiling behind the wheel. I dropped the empty gun on the ground and waited for the end to come. The car was within a foot from me when I felt someone grab me. I was swept up into strong arms. It took me a second to realize who it was and then the car skidded right through us. It swerved around before hitting the wall, screeching about the garage. It floored around the van and two SUVS and then made a go for the door. I watched as it peeled away and then buried my head in Brad’s chest, crying.
Declan was gone, gain. Declan was gone, Barry was dead and I was alive.
I wanted to scream in anger but all I did was cry.
_________________________________
Stella:
I pressed the cold pack to my head, grateful for the cold, soothing relief it provided. Not that it was helping much; my head was throbbing. But it was a start. Now if I could just find one that covered my whole body and I’d be set. I don’t think I’ve ever ached this much in my entire life and the worst part is I don’t remember much of what did it to me. The last thing I remember before waking up a few minutes ago was running into Emma in the hall. But she was completely different. She was dolled up like a hooker and she didn’t seem to know who I was. I’ve never encountered a Dominator before---during Emma’s rescue mission, Becca made me wait in the SUV---but I knew the stories. I knew what they could do to me, how they could mess with minds. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened to Emma. I’m also pretty sure she kicked my ass.
Thinking about it only made me groan even more. When I was subdued, apparently the brainwashed Emma dragged me into this room. It was small, there were no windows and the only furniture in the room was a desk. It looked like someone had stripped the place and in a hurry. There were papers scattered about the floor and the desk drawers were pulled open. I was confused at first when I woke, my head pounding. I tried the door but it was locked so I did the only thing I could do and started pounding. I’m not sure how long it took but eventually someone opened the door. I didn’t recognize him. He was tall, dressed in black commando gear. He had an automatic rifle slung on his shoulder. He said his name was Corporal Moore and that they were currently sweeping the facility for stragglers.
I think he thought I was one of Declan’s people. Even after I explained things to him, he told me to stay put and went off to find someone to confirm my identity. That was about five minutes ago. Now I was sitting here, waiting to find out what the hell is going on. The last thing I remember before running into Emma was that the place was still under hostile control. Did we get Becca? Was the place secure now? I hated not knowing, sitting here in the dark. At least he gave me this cold pack for my head, not that it was helping much. I wasn’t really angry with Emma; it wasn’t her fault after all. But still the girl could have shown some restraint. I’m not even sure what she did but whatever it was it hurt like hell now.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Before I could answer, the door opened up and Kit slipped inside.
She smiled and sighed in relief at the sight of me. “There you are, we thought we’d have to look everywhere for you. It would have been hell to find an unconscious invisible girl.”
I half laughed at the joke. I winced, that hurt my head. “What happened?”
“Hell.”
She quickly gave me the rundown of events, from her end anyway. Apparently, after they left me, they encountered a little resistance. She said she might have overreacted when she shot and killed the first kid but it was pretty hectic. They got ambushed. First, by the telekinetic; she tried to kill them by a photokinetic, pyrokinetic and some kid she wasn’t sure about. Brad took out the pyro and the bouncy kid. Connor managed to slip around behind the photokinetic and took her out. They were doing pretty good after that until Emma came. After she threw Brad through the wall, there was little they could do to stop her. Kit said everything else was pretty fuzzy after that. She said she remembered someone else coming, a kid with glasses then the next thing she remembered was waking up in a hallway. Apparently by then the fighting was over.
I nodded. It explained some things. I quickly told her about my fight and then my encounter with Emma. I think that probably took place before her bout. But there were some questions I wanted answers too. “Where’s Becca?”
Kit didn’t answer at first. I saw her conflicting emotions. She took a deep breath and told me the rest. “We lost Barry. I’m not sure of all the details because Becca is a bit inconsolable right now but from what I can gather, he was working with Declan. But after he saw what was happening here, he turned sides. He tried to help her escape but it failed. Connor didn’t have all the answers. But after the Dominator was taken out, Barry and Declan fled. Connor said it looks like Declan shot Barry to make a clean getaway.”
Oh God, no. I jumped off the desk. She must have been a wreck. I dropped the cold pack and wobbled a bit on my feet. I stumbled and Kit caught me. She tried to get me to sit back down but I didn’t have time. Becca was my best friend and she needed me. After pushing a bit, she let me go. I ran to the door and pulled it open. Corporal Moore was on the other side. He stepped in my way but Kit waved him off. He nodded and let me by. I had no idea where Becca was but I needed to find her. I ran up and down the halls, looking in empty room after empty room. I only stopped for a second when I ran past the room I left that blue haired bitch in. The door was open and no one was inside.
Son of a bitch. I looked about; one of our guys was walking down the hall toward us.
“What happened to the girl in this room?”
I approached me and peered inside. “There was no one.”
Shit. “Are you sure? She had blue hair, about my height?” He shook his head. I groaned again. “I subdued her earlier, locked her unconscious ass in here.”
“I’m sorry, Miss, we only have three hostiles”
I didn’t have time for this. “She’s really dangerous. You have to find her.”
The soldier nodded and I ran off. As much as I wanted to help him find that crazy bitch, I was worried more about Becca. I knew how much losing Trish crushed her. I can’t imagine what losing Barry was doing to her. I needed to be there for her, even if it meant standing outside a locked door. Friends were there for one another in times of tragedy. I had one really good friend when I was younger; her name was Sally. She lived next door. When she heard about my father dying, she came over and hugged me. I cried in her arms. She and her mother took me to her house, made me a sandwich and sat with me while the authorities explained things to my grandmother. It was one of the worst times in my life. I couldn’t imagine losing two people that you were really close with.
I saw a familiar face when I ran around the next corner. It was Brad; he was leaning against the wall, near a door. He was shirtless, a bandage wrapped around his chest. He looked up when he heard me running. His face lit up a bit but other than that, he looked like someone had run him over. I ran up to him, out of breath when I finally stopped. He didn’t seem to mind; instead, he slid to the floor, sliding over to offer me the spot next to him. I slid to the floor too, taking a few deep breaths to catch up. Neither of us said anything to the other for a few seconds.
Finally, I need to break the ice. “Your sister kicked my ass.”
Ok, so not the best line to use.
He snorted. Then pointed to the bandage. “Mine too.”
We both laughed. Then we both winced, clearing laughing wasn’t the best idea.
I waited a whole minute before asking what I wanted to know. “Is Becca in there?”
He nodded. “I carried her there after saving her from Declan. He tried to run her over and she just stood there.” He shook his head, fighting back tears. “We could have lost her…”
I leaned over and hugged him. I knew how much he cared about her. I cared about her too. “Is she going to be ok?”
He shrugged. “After I got her back here, she tried to make it look like nothing was wrong. You know her” I nodded. “Samson and I had to hold her back. She wanted to help us sweep the place, look for others. But it was clear that she was in a lot of pain. Then one of Major Baker’s team came in, a medic I think.
They gave her a nice cocktail of something; it had to be pretty strong to put her out.”
I sighed. At least she was ok for now. “Where did Baker come from?”
He shrugged. “When I got back with Becca, he and his men were coming down the hall. They just arrived. I’m not sure how they knew we were here but he didn’t look too happy.”
“I’m sure Kit will get that all sorted out.”
After that, the two of us sat and talked for a bit. We didn’t cover anything that happened here. Brad talked about nonsensical stuff, mainly about his life before. I knew some of it from Emma but it was interesting to hear it from his side of things. It was strange to think of this strapping Adonis as a girl but then again it was probably hard to think of me as a guy. But it was still kinda funny to listen to him talking about finding the right pair of heels to go with the cutest skirt. I take it that Stephanie---his former self---was a bit of a fashionista, among other things. I filled him in on my former life too, or lack thereof.
Ten minutes later, an ensemble came down the hall.
We both perked our heads up. Major Baker was in the lead, dressed in black like his men, minus the assault rifle. He walked with this air of superiority and why not, he was technically the highest-ranking man here. He was a tall guy, with closed cropped graying hair. He was in his forties, there were lines on his face already that made him look older. Over his right eye, there was a little scar. I didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he was our Back Up. He led a squad of ten, elite commandos. Most of them I wouldn’t know from the other. Except Captain Jones, his second. Jones was walking next to the Major. He was a tall, bald black guy in his thirties. I knew Jones by face alone, some of the soldiers played cards in a Rec Room back at the Center, Jones was one of them.
Behind them came Kit and Samson. The two of them looked kinda subdued.
Brad and I stood up as the group approached us. Baker stopped in front of Brad.
“Is Sergeant Howe in there?”
Brad nodded. “Yes sir but one of your men sedated her.”
That didn’t seem to faze Baker. “I need to speak to her and apprise her of the situation at hand.”
Brad and Baker stood head to head, sizing one another up. Clearly, Brad didn’t appreciate this guy barging in like this. I didn’t really like it either. I understood he was just doing his job but she just lost her boyfriend. Couldn’t he have shown her a little decency?
“I understand that, sir” said Brad “but she’s still sedated.”
Baker ignored him and turned to Jones. “Captain, go retrieve Corporal Curtis to bring something to rouse her”
“Aye, aye sir”
Jones took off quickly. I glared at Baker. This was the first time I’d really met the guy and first impressions were supposed to tell you a lot. I didn’t like this guy, I didn’t like him one bit. I glared at him. I caught eyes with Kit and she looked about the same. But unlike me, there was nothing she could do but stand there like a stone-faced statue. After all, he was her superior. It was kinda strange really. Technically, he was Becca’s superior as well except she somehow called all the shots. The only time Baker was needed was if things got out of hand. So I didn’t really know who was in charge then. I’m not really up on all my military protocol. But knowing Becca, I’m sure she didn’t like bending over for this guy.
Jones came back a few minutes later with a baby-faced soldier caring a medical bag. Corporal Curtis no doubt. I was surprised at how young he was.
“Sir” said the baby faced medic. When he spoke, I realized I was mistaken. He was in fact a she.
I squinted. So she wasn’t baby faced, she was just a girl. She was kinda cute in that boyish type way. She had sandy blonde haircut in a boyish style and striking blue eyes. She had the cutest dimples. I flushed and turned away.
Baker and his men didn’t waste any more time. Kit took out a pair of keys and unlocked the door. Then all the soldiers went inside, except for Samson who stood watch. I sighed and looked down the hall, noticing for the first time that we were in fact not alone. Apparently, the soldiers blocked her from view but standing there was Emma. She was still dressed in the trampy outfit from before but she was wearing a green army jacket that was three sizes too big on her. I bet the name tag on it said Samson. Her face was devoid of all that makeup and it looked like she tried to untease her poofy hair. She toed the ground, barely able to look at either me or her brother.
Brad broke the silence between the three of us. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her. “You are never to leave my sight again.”
I heard her sigh as she wrapped her arms around him. Then she sniffled a bit. The two of them held onto one another for a while. When they finally let go, she looked over at me guiltily. She opened her mouth to say something but I held up a hand to cut her off. Then I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around her too. It was so good to see that she was ok. The two of us cried a bit. Yeah, we’re girls, girls cry when they’re happy. I held onto her for some time, it felt good to have a warm body pressed against me.
When we finally separated, she finally spoke. “I’m really, really sorry. It wasn’t me. I saw what I was doing but there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
I nodded, wiping the tears off my cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, water under the bridge. I’m just glad to see you’re back to normal.”
All three of us laughed. It didn’t hurt me as much but Brad winced again. Then we sat down in the hall and waited. There wasn’t much more to do. Besides, I wasn’t going to leave this spot until I knew my roomie was ok.
____________________________________
Becca:
“Sergeant, are you still listening to me?” asked Baker as he continued to debrief me on the situation.
To tell you the truth I wasn’t really listening. Baker and I had an understanding like that though. He’d drum on and on about something and I’d pretend to listen. I wasn’t particularly interested in what he was saying anyway. He was talking about the clean sweep he and his men did after they arrived at the facility. He kept referring to the people therein as the “targets” and the ones that got away as “escapees”. Yes, I said ones that got away, as in plural. Need I remind you that I failed to obtain Declan, once again? I’m sure I’d get hell as soon as I got back home. I sure got it when Baker walked into the room. He seemed to think I dropped the ball on that one. And for once, I actually agree with him. I’d been sloppy and reckless. I should have put a bullet in Declan’s head.
But I made a promise.
I shifting in my chair, looking around the cramped room. There were three soldiers standing before me. Captain Jones---Baker’s right hand lackey---was standing by the door; Kit was lingering in the corner. Baker was almost directly in front of me, lecturing as usual. He was my superior but he wasn’t in control here. Even though he liked to think he was. I think he secretly hated the fact that I---a sixteen-year-old girl---could give him orders. What’s worse, he was the guy on standby. I’d read Baker’s file, he’d done two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. There was also some black op stuff on their too. He was Special Forces and he never let you forget it. He talked big and liked to talk down, a lot. Not that I blamed him much, being back up was a shitty assignment.
I caught eyes with Kit. She rolled hers. I smiled weakly. It was all I could do at the moment. I’m not really sure what happened after Brad saved me from being squashed by the BMW. I vaguely remember crying in his arms, burying my head in his chest. He carried me out of the garage and down the hall. As we were making our way back toward Declan’s office, Baker and his team came barging in. They had guns blazing, moving like the commandos my team should have been like. All of his guys were well trained, except for maybe Curtis, the medic. She was kinda green, fresh from wherever they shipped her in from. She was the youngest too, barely nineteen I think. I’m not even sure if she was a full medic yet. She was a last minute replacement though. The previous guy, Corporal Hughes, busted his knee on the basketball court two nights before we were set to “deploy”.
Kit smiled back at me. I could tell she was feeling my pain. We were all in a little bit of pain. It was one thing to find out that one of your friends is a traitor but it’s another thing entirely to know that they were dead. I don’t think it has fully sunk in yet for me. I know he’s gone, he died in my arms. Just like Trish. But I’m not sure why I felt so calm about it. I vaguely remember falling apart before, screaming bloody murder before I ran off after Declan. Now there was nothing. I felt hollow inside, my body gutted of everything that mattered. Looking at Kit I could tell I wasn’t the only one. She---like me---didn’t really know how to react to something like this.
Baker’s words interrupted my thoughts. “We’re going to move Miss Xavier and Miss Pierce along with Mr. Brody in a few hours.”
The names meant nothing to me. “Who?” I asked, finally getting back into the conversation.
He smiled slightly before answering. “Your new little friend, the one with the extraordinary gift. Diana Xavier I think she said her name was. We currently have her and Katrina Pierce in look-down in the room three doors over. Corporal Moore is questioning them right now.”
I’m not sure I liked the sound of that. “Diana is innocent.”
Baker nodded. “That may be but she was still a part of this terrorist cell.”
A Terrorist Cell. That’s what they were officially calling this place. About an hour after Baker arrived, MI-5 tried to push their way in. But the good Major only allowed the agents as far as the front door. I’m not sure how he got them to leave but he made it very clear that as soon as we were done with our investigation then they’d have their chance. I suppose Baker was good at some things. He had some pull somewhere. I think it was because he and the Colonel were old friends. There was a picture of the two of them fishing, on the bookshelf behind the Colonel’s desk. The two of them were smiling and looked like them were having a good time. It was strange to see either man smile.
I wasn’t about to let him treat Diana or Kat as suspects though. “They’re not involved in this, either one of them. They’ve been abusing Diana for weeks now and Kat has been under the Dominator’s sway. They’re not to be prosecuted or harmed.”
Baker nodded. “They will be shown the courtesy we show all of our guests.”
I didn’t like the way he said “guests”. I knew full well the courtesy they showed guests at the Center. I was one of those “guests” for nearly a month. I even had my own cell to prove it. Ok, so maybe I’m a little fired up by the situation. But I promised Diana that I wouldn’t allow these bastards to mistreat her like Declan and his cronies.
I got to my feet. “I want to see them now.”
Baker sized me up. He was a good head taller than me. I’m sure he was well trained too, he’d probably even be able to kick my ass if he got lucky. But he’d have to be real lucky to stop me. As he stared me down, I think he realized it too. There was a flicker of fear in his eyes and then he backed down. I pushed past him toward the door. Jones stepped in my way. He may have been younger than Baker and possibly better trained but he was still nothing. I could have torn through him in a heartbeat. He stepped aside when Baker gave him the nod. I pushed my way through the door; it took me about a second to realize Kit was following. She didn’t say a word as she sped up to me, walking along side me, keeping up.
The guy standing guard at Diana’s door was Corporal Janks. I knew all Baker’s men by name because I had to read each and every one of their files. Janks was in his twenties, enlisted after high school. He gave me a nod as we approached, opening the door for us. Janks was a good guy, the two of us sparred every once in a while. Inside, Diana and Kat were sitting on a sofa, Moore was talking to them. They both perked up when they saw me. Moore, sensing he wasn’t alone, turned and grimaced. Yeah, I didn’t like him either.
There were advantages and disadvantages about being able to hear just about every conversation. Moore was a bigot; he hated all of us “freaks” with a passion. I’m not sure how he ever got through the screening process. I suppose he could lie really well. I’d have to make a mental note, remembering to bring Lola with me the next time he was present. I’d like to see how he held up under her gaze.
“Staff Sergeant” he said, I could hear the dislike in his voice. “I was in the middle of interrogat…I mean questioning these two.”
I nodded. “You’re dismissed, Corporal.”
“Yes ma’am”
He pushed past me quickly and out the door. He made a “freaks” comment to Janks under his breath. Janks bit back, telling him to “shut the fuck up”. Like I said, I really liked Janks.
“How long are they going to keep us here?” asked Diana, fidgeting.
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” added Kat, looking nervous.
This was the first time I’d come face to face with her. She was a thin girl with straight black hair to her shoulders and one of those cute noses that only looked right on a doll. It looked good on her though. Her most stunning feature was her eyes though. I’ve seen green eyes and then I’ve seen green eyes. But these eyes were so green it almost looked like they were glowing. I stared at those eyes for a few seconds. I think she got uncomfortable because she finally pulled away.
Kit fielded their questions. Me, I just had to make sure they were all right. There was no way I wanted the two of them to be lumped together with the rest of the scum here. Not that there was much of that left. One of the first things Baker told me was how many of Declan’s people we were able to capture. Including, Diana and Kat, the number was only three. Besides Declan, that bouncy monkey kid Tobias was gone as was that bitch Jasmine. If I ever saw her, again I was going to shoot first and ask questions later. I stood in the corner and listened to Kit try to reassure the two of them that everything was going to be ok. After a few minutes, I asked if she had everything under control, when she nodded, I slipped out of the door.
Janks nodded to me. “Ma’am.”
I nodded back. I started back down the hall but stopped after a few feet. There was something I wanted to check with him. I spun around. Janks was the team sniper. He was a damn good shot, not my caliber but still aces. “That was a good shot back there.” I said, in reference to the one that put down Miles.
“I’m not sure I’m following, ma’am?”
I nodded. It was just as I thought. I had suspected there was someone else out there---hell, I saw him. My first thought it was Janks; he liked to hide in trees. But there was something about the shooter’s style that seemed off. For one thing, he was using a completely different rifle. Janks also favored a laser pointer. Besides sparring, the two of us spent a lot of time in the shooting range. Janks used a Barrett M82 50 caliber rifle. The shooter earlier was using a different type. Janks favored body shots too but the person who fired at Miles went for the head. It was farther out than Janks liked to shoot too. I was pretty confident it wasn’t Janks but I had to make sure. Now that I knew, it kinda worried me to know that there was someone else out there. It worried me even more that he knew about us and had chosen Miles as the target. There were several choice targets in the room---myself included----so what was so special about Miles. I suppose he was the most convenient at the moment but I was certain there was more to it than that. As soon as Baker arrived, he said his men swept the surrounding forest but they found no out there.
So the mystery shooter would remain just that. For now, anyway.
I left Janks and returned to the room where Baker and Jones were. The two of them were talking quietly. When I reentered, they finished up. We discussed some things for the next half an hour or so. It was agreed that Emma, Stella and I would return to the school for the time being. Baker’s radio tech, Grier, was able to reestablish communication with the Center. Apparently, they were having problems of their own. Baker had spoken briefly with both Mrs. Fine and Colonel Harris. They both agreed that it was imperative that the three of us finish up, at least until the morning. Baker’s men already had Brock secured in a van ready to take to the airport for shipment stateside. Diana and Kat were booked on a flight for tomorrow morning. Brad and Connor---both of whom were wounded---would accompany them.
They also made arrangements for Barry. My eyes stung with tears as I thought about it. He and the others killed here tonight would all get proper burials back home. I never did ask what the Center did with their dead. I didn’t really want to know.
“Are we all done now?”
Baker nodded. “My men will sweep the place one more time then we’ll move out.”
I nodded and shook the Major’s hand. “Thanks for the backup, sir.”
I left the room for a second time. Samson was waiting for me this time; apparently, there were some people who wanted to see me. He had a big smile on his face as he led me down the hall. When he opened the room, Stella was the first one to tackle me. She wrapped me in the strongest hug. She even cried a little. Her warmth felt good. It was comforting. I took in a big whiff of her pheromones, hoping maybe they’d do something to get me out of my funk. They didn’t. Emma came next; her hug was light---thank God. I didn’t hug Connor. The two of us shared a nod though. I’m not sure when it happened---probably sometime in that room---but I’d grown to respect him. I hated to think about it now but maybe he’d just earned a permanent spot on my team.
Brad was the last to approach me. We didn’t say anything. When he hugged me, wrapping his strong arms around me, for a moment I didn’t want him to let go. There was definitely something between us but I wasn’t ready to find out what just yet. I knew the two of us played with kissing but I couldn’t think about those things, especially after Barry.
We left after that. I was pretty damn glad to do so. We all went in one vehicle. Diana and Kat left earlier with Baker in one of the SUVs his team brought. I think the two of them were going to like it at the Center. None of us said anything on the ride back to Chairmont. We dropped the guys off first at their stuffy boarding school then we got dropped off. When we slipped into the building, it was mid-afternoon, right around lunch. We quietly crept through the halls. There wasn’t even anyone waiting when we got there. Baker said he called the school ahead of time and had spoken to the Head mistress. We were safe to enter without any troubles. Which was good because I was done with troubles.
I said good-bye to Emma and Stella as they went to their respective rooms. My body ached, my mind was mush and there were so many conflicting emotions dancing around in my head it was on overload. All I wanted to do was walk into my room, strip to my underwear and get a well deserved rest. No more problems, no more complications.
I opened the door and froze in the doorway. Karen was sitting on her bed, a glass on the floor in front of her. There was a strip of water leading from the glass---floating between it and her. She looked from me to the glass then back to me. The color drained from her face.
Me, I sighed. I guess today was one of those days.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
The Center: Best Served Cold -
Part Seventeen (Conclusion) by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: We have come to it at last...here is the last chapter of Best Served Cold. We'll finally get to find out the identity of the mystery shooter. I'd like to thank everyone who's posted comments and said good things. I'd also liked to thank djkauf for editing another story for me. In a couple of days---after I rest my cramped typing hand---I'll move onto a shorter Mattie side story.
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Chapter Seventeen:
“I can explain,” said Karen, the stream of water dropping to the floor with a splash.
But before she could do so, she burst into tears, burying her head in her hands. I think by this time I was so into the emotional meltdown myself I was kinda on autopilot. I walked quickly into the room and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly to me. I was still in a bit of shock, too. How did I miss this? I’d been spending almost all my time with this girl over the past two days or so and I missed this. She was an E, an E trying to hide herself. I should have seen the signs. But I was so wrapped up in my own damn stuff I missed what was staring me right in the face. Some temporary roommate I turned out to be.
I let her cry in my arms for a long time. I think she needed it because she cried and cried. I knew exactly where she was coming from. When I first Emerged, it scared the hell out of me. I can’t imagine how she must have felt. At least I had someone there to explain things to me. But this girl---this tortured thing in my arms---it looked like she had no one. She probably thought she was a freak or even worse, she was losing her mind. Not that I blame her. It’s kinda hard coming to grips with something that big. She cried for another ten minutes, my shirt was now soaked in her tears. When she was finally done, she pulled away, wiping tears from her eyes.
“You can’t tell anyone” she sniffled “please don’t tell anyone. My father will freak.”
I nodded and smiled. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”
She shook her head, violently pushing me away. “You’re just saying that. I’m a freak, the biggest freak in the world.”
I smiled again. I couldn’t help it. “You’re not a freak. You’re a normal, everyday sixteen year old girl.”
She glared at me, angry and upset. Instead of responding, she snapped her hand at the pool of water on the floor. In seconds, the puddle formed into a sphere about the size of baseball. She floated it about five feet off the ground, moving it toward the open window and dropped it outside. Then she dropped on her bed, sniffling some more. Me, I was awestruck. There were a few hydrokinetics at the Center but I’d never actually seen any of them in action. Watching her float that ball across the room and out the window was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.
“I’m a freak,” she said, crying again. I slid over to sit closer to her. She pulled away. “You better stay away, it could be contagious.”
I smirked. “You can’t infect me.”
She shook her head. “How do you know?”
“I’m pretty confident that it doesn’t work that way.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
I shook my head. “You probably feel scared and alone but you’re not. I know how you feel. I feel like that a lot. But there’s no reason to be scared and there’s no reason to feel alone”
I looked around the room, finding a pen. I snatched it up and looked around. I smiled when I spotted a good target. It was a poster on her wall, some hunky teen heartthrob. I turned to her and smiled then without looking I threw the pen. I’d already picked my target before turning to her so I knew without looking that I put the pen right into the center of the guy’s eyeball. The look of shock on Karen’s face was priceless. She opened her mouth but no words came out. Instead, she slid away from me further and stepped off the bed. She walked across the room and pulled the pen out of her poster. She fingered the spot where I threw it.
“How did you do that?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I asked her a question. “Who were you before?”
She didn’t say anything at first. She bit her lip and started to tremble. Then the tears started to flow again. “My name is…was David” she trembled “David Momochi” She took a deep breath and walked back over to the bed, cautiously sitting next to me. “My father is Japanese, my mother was American. Before all this happened, I was a happy Japanese American kid; I went to St. Bernard’s School for Boys”
I nodded, that’s why she freaked a little when she saw them walk into the club. “Do you want to tell me how it happened?”
She nodded. “One day I was in the shower with the others, I’ve always been sorta an outsider you know, I liked to shower away from the rest of the guys. The others guys were all almost gone now, it was just me and my friend TJ. He was showering two stalls down from me. I’d been feeling lousy all day. I went to the clinic but the nurse there said it was probably a touch of the flu. She told me to take it easy but if you knew my father, he would have been furious. He’s always about academics, sickness is for the weak. So I grinned and mustered on. I went through that day feeling horrible. Things went from bad to worse in the shower. One minute I was washing my back and the neck I was doubling over in pain. TJ ran to my side and when he saw how much pain I was in he told me to wait there and he’d get the nurse.”
She took a deep breath, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “That’s when it happened. It was like all the water in the room exploded from the pipes. It swirled about me, spraying everywhere. I blacked out and when I came to I was in the nurse’s office. I was scared and confused. I heard the nurse talking to the Headmaster; the two of them were talking about what happened to me. I didn’t understand what they were talking about so I got out of bed and wandered into the little bathroom. When I saw the girl staring back at me, I screamed and fainted again.”
She started crying uncontrollably now. I squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to?”
She sniffled but shook her head. “When I woke up again, I was in the car. It was my father’s limousine; my father and stepmother were sitting across from me. They could barely look me in the eyes. I tried to ask them what was going on, how I’d gotten there but neither would speak to me. I later found out that my father arrived shortly after my second black out, he was enraged. He was convinced the school did something to me. He threatened to sue them, to do horrible things to the Headmaster, the nurse and even poor TJ who found me lying unconscious in the shower stall. He pulled me from school; he threw a lot of money at the problem. A few weeks later, he had a medical explanation ready when I was enrolled in Chairmont. Apparently I was intersexed and had decided to start living my life not as a young man but as a young woman.”
She burst into tears again, unable to continue. I wrapped her in a hug again. I couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. I’d never known my folks but if my father had ever treated me like that, I think I’d have kicked his ass. I mean what kind of person treats their son/daughter that way. She cried on my shoulder for a while again. All my problems seemed miniscule compared to hers. She was terrified; hiding who she was really was, hoping no one would ever figure it out.
When she was finished crying, she wiped her eyes again. “That was six months ago. I’ve been here ever since. My parents haven’t even tried to contact me. They send money, care packages; they let me buy whatever I want. But they want nothing to do with me otherwise, I’m a freak to them. My father arranged it so I’d have this private room so no one would discover my secret.” She sighed.
“You’re the first person I’ve told. I tried contacting TJ but he’s gone. After my father paid him off, his parents pulled him from Bernard’s. I’ve emailed him a couple times but I never got any responses. Then a month ago, Miss Pennington told us a group of girls from our sister school in America were going to be staying here. She was looking for girls who had singles to volunteer some of their space for the week. I happily volunteered. The girls kinda avoid me around here, it got out the second week I was here that I used to be a guy. They treat me like I have the plague. I tried to explain things to them---gave them the fact story my father compiled but no one believed it, they think I’m a transsexual pervert.”
Kids can be cruel. Especially girls. Thinking about that made images of that bitch Samantha flash into my head.
“You know everything else,” she finally said, smiling. She sighed too; I think it was a big weight off her chest.
“You were really brave sharing something like with me.”
She nodded. “I still don’t understand what’s going on though” She sniffled. “I’ve been to a couple of private physicians but everyone is baffled. Do you know what’s wrong with me?” She bit her lip. “I’m scared. Can you help me, please?”
I smiled and took a deep breath. “Let me tell you my story.”
_________________________________
I was staring out the window now, watching the ocean through the clouds. England was an hour behind us and we were traveling across the Atlantic. It would still be several hours until we got to New York then from there at least another day before we took a flight back to the Center. A part of me was happy to be finally going home but another part of me wanted to stay away as long as possible. There were so many things I was going to have to face as soon as I got there. One of the biggest was Karen. After Karen and I talked yesterday, I got some z’s. A few hours later, I woke up to find Karen gone. At first, I thought maybe she ran but it turns out, she was doing some things of her own. One of those things was making the first phone call to her parents in months. She told them how things were and how they were going to be from now on.
While she was off having a heart-to-heart with the folks, I finally got around to touching base with the Center. After securing Declan’s compound---Baker’s designation for it---we were able to reestablish communication using Baker’s untampered with equipment. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones having problems. The Center had another traitor on top of Barry. They had a nasty computer virus that shut down all their systems and a murder to contend with. Mrs. Fine didn’t want to give me all the details via video chat. She said she’d debrief me once I got stateside. I gave her a rundown of events. I tried to be as objective as possible, telling her my mistakes and how I jeopardized the mission with my revenge. She didn’t say anything. She told me we’d discuss everything in my full debrief once I got back. The only good bit of news I had to share was the acquisition of three new students.
Yeah, that’s right, three.
After having a long discussion with her father, Karen was able to convince the Ambassador to allow her to leave Chairmont. The Ambassador was reluctant to allow her to leave England first but Karen was able to convince him that she’d be with people just like her. Suffice to say when I told her about the Center she was extremely excited. I think the prospect of knowing you’re not alone goes a long way. Of course, I didn’t tell her the real reason why I was in England, that was classified. I gave her some bull story about one of our Precogs sensing Emergents in the area. So as far as Karen was concerned, my team was in England recruiting. I guess it wasn’t far from the truth, after all, we were bringing her, Diana and Kat back with us.
“You look deep in thought” said a familiar voice.
I turned from the window as Emma slipped into the empty seat next to me. She was dressed like a normal person now, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Even though the jeans were a little tight and she was wearing the cutest boots. Remember, they got to wear normal clothes, I was so jealous. I was stuck in one of those dresses Mrs. Fine made me pack. It was an airy blue sundress, which showed off way too much skin for my liking.
I looked past her over to Karen. She was sitting alone, too. The plane was only half full so most of the passengers got to sit by themselves. Karen was looking out the window too.
“You think she’s going to be ok?”
Emma looked at her and nodded. “We’re a resilient lot, we bounce e back fast.”
I smiled. “You sure did.”
She frowned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Emma was Miss Apologetic since the moment we left Declan’s place. First, she had apologized to her brother and Stella. She thrashed them pretty good. Then she apologized for throwing me across the room. I tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault but that didn’t seem to matter. She kept telling us she’d make it up to us over and over again. There was no convincing the girl that what she did, she did under severe mental control. Miles wasn’t the first Dominator she’d encountered but I think he was the first one to put the whammy on her. Though she would probably never admit it, I think it shook her up a lot. But that’s what Dominators did. They were nasty pieces of work. I’ve had my run-ins with more than I’d like to admit. They leave a mark on you, one that takes a while to get over. A few nights after my run-in with Declan and Scarlet at Section Four, I was still having nightmares about it.
“It gets better” I told her, squeezing her hand.
She nodded, tearing up. I changed subjects quickly, deciding to breach one that I knew would make her blush. The first mention of Samson and she went as red as a cherry. It was kinda funny. When he first saw her back at Strickland’s place, he went beet red. I think she was too busy to even notice he was looking. But once things settled, the two of them got talking. It had been a cute little scene and I don’t think she noticed but the two of them had been flirting like crazy. It’s strictly forbidden of course, for them to have a relationship, besides a little illegal. He was twenty-five after all but it was cute nonetheless. So I ribbed her a bit about it, asking her if she was really jealous when she thought Kit and Samson were hitting it off in the nightclub. She got even redder and tried to change the subject. But I pushed it and we had a good laugh, not before she defended herself and Samson.
“There’s nothing going on between Peter and I?”
“Peter?”
She blushed at the slip. The two of them were on a first name basis.
She turned things on me though. “What’s going on with you and my brother?”
This time I flushed a bit. Ok, so I liked Brad, I think everyone knew that. But I also liked Barry. Even after he turned into a traitor, I still couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now…it’s going to take some time to get over him. After cleaning up a bit at the “compound”, Brad and I only had minutes to talk before he and Connor shipped back early. We didn’t really know what to say to one another. He knew I was still hurting over losing Barry and I knew he was relieved to see Emma was all right. It was kind of strange and awkward. I owed him so much though. He saved my life after all. I was about to let it all go; I was going to let that bastard run me over. I didn’t even hear Brad coming when he scooped me up in his arms and did what he did.
I sighed. “It’s complicated,” I finally admitted.
Emma laughed. “I’ll say. Me I have a crush on a man’s man and you, you’re crushing on my former little sis.”
I punched her in the arm for that. We both had a laugh though.
We talked for a few minutes more then she went back to her seat. I went back to staring out the window. Watching the puffy white clouds floating by made me drowsy. I fought sleep for a long time though, my mind still reeling. I was still numb to everything that had happened in such a short period of time. Barry turned out to be a traitor; Declan was creating an Army, failed and got away. That one was going to haunt me a bit. Then Barry’s death. When it happened, I was a wreck. Connor told me afterwards it took him three times to actually get my attention. Then of course, I went nuts and stole his gun. Most of that was a blur now. I remember doing it but I don’t really remember why. I think I wanted to kill Declan, I almost did. But I made a promise too. Barry’s last few words were still dancing in my head: “Revenge isn’t the answer. It’s never the answer; promise me you’ll let this go” But could I really honor them?
I sighed. Sleep finally got me. My last thoughts before drifting off were of Trish and a tear rolled down my cheek as I slowly drifted off into dreamland.
____________________________________
“No more bad dreams. When I woke on the plane, we were making our final approach into New York but I’d dreamt happy things. Dekker was gone from them.”
Dr. Tipps smiled. She was sitting across from me, her legs folded over one another. She looked professional sitting in her chair. I was sitting on the little couch, spilling my deepest darkest secrets to her.
“How do you feel about that?”
Ok, yeah so I caved. It’s not like I had much of a choice. I was tired of feeling like my life was going to explode all around me. I was being pulled in different directions, everything coming at me at once and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. The England mission taught me one very important thing; it taught me that I can’t keep things bottled up inside anymore. Diana and Karen taught me that lesson. Here was Diana, a girl who thought she was with the greatest people in the world and they turned out to be monsters. All her rage and anger toward them built up to a point where she almost killed Declan. Something I think she would have really regretted.
Then there was Karen. The poor girl was alone and confused for so long. She didn’t know what was going on or why it was happening to her. So she pulled into herself, shutting herself off to the world. It didn’t help that her father and stepmother completely ignored her. She was such a bundle of emotions that I think she was really relieved when I walked into the room and caught her doing her thing. I know she was a bit scared I’d think she was a freak but she was happy too that someone else knew her secret. She wasn’t alone anymore.
Both of them helped me in more ways than one. After getting off the plane in New York, we spent the next hour or so in the airport. We had one of two options, catch a flight immediately back to the private strip that would take us to the Center or spend the night in the city. Karen was really excited to get to her new home but the rest of us were bushed. We ended up spending the night in New York. It worked out rather well for us though. Karen’s family had a penthouse in the city that they rarely used so we got to stay there instead of the hotel. I guess being an Ambassador had its perks. But it surprised me to find out that all the luxury actually belonged to Karen. Like Emma and Brad, her mother was loaded too. Upon her mother’s death, Karen or rather David became the sole benefactor of her family’s immense wealth. Her father was caretaker of said wealth until Karen turned eighteen. Until then she was given weekly allowances to help her with her expenses.
Us four girls had one hell of a night. We got to have a limo pick us up and take us to the airport in the morning too. From New York, we flew to the private strip. The Center’s private jet was waiting for us when we got there. Kit and Samson were there too. They took an earlier flight than us. I think Emma was happy to see Peter---I’m going to have so much fun with that. We flew to the Center in quiet solitude, all except for Karen who kept bombarding Kit with questions. I think after she got over her initial shyness, Karen really opened up. All the time at Chairmont she was afraid of the other girls, not sure how to act around them. Now she was a completely different person, so alive and vibrant. It was hard to believe that she was the same girl that I spent two days with. I think she was just happy to be rid of that place; I know I was. After coming home from Declan’s, Britney was kinda sour with all of us for abandoning them the way we did. Stella hadn’t really explained things all that well to them and she didn’t like being brushed aside while we had fun elsewhere. So Stella got a cold reception for the rest of the time she and Britney were roommates. As for the rest of our short time at Chairmont, we kinda blended in with the crowd. I think the girls in the band were kinda bummed that we had to bail so early but Miss Pennington promised she’d find us some local replacements.
I think she was happy to see us all go.
“Rebecca, are you ok?”
Dr. Tipps voice shattered my thoughts. I sighed, forgetting where I was. I only agreed to come here because Stella and Mattie nagged me into it. Yeah, Mattie turned on me too. But I could forgive her; she’s had a rough time with things too. I guess there was a little excitement here why I was away. But she didn’t really want to talk about it---something that was on the need to know apparently---so I dropped the questioning.
“I’m sorry,” I said, smiling fakely at her. “I was lost in my thoughts.”
She smiled. “You were telling me about your dreams.”
What can I say, when I open up I really open up. After getting back to the Center and going through a two hour debrief with Mrs. Fine, Kris and the Colonel, I barely got about an hour of sleep before Mattie and Stella roused me out of bed. They said that there was no way they were going to let me get away with loafing around anymore. So they dragged me out of bed and forced me to go to Dr. Tipps. They may think that they’re doing me a favor but wait until Stella finds out what I have planned for her and the rest of the team. After the debriefing, Mrs. Fine and I discussed the team’s performance. We both agreed that we did all right overall but there was definite need for improvement. So I decided it was high time that we got really organized. That meant there was going to be no more slacking. I was going to whip everyone into the team they should be.
So I opened up to Dr. Tipps a little. I think she was as surprised as I was. I told her everything that had been on my mind for the last few weeks. It didn’t take as long as I thought it was going to. When we got to my dreams, I faltered a bit. I wasn’t really sure if I was ready to handle the Trish stuff yet. It was like opening a wound that I wasn’t ready to close. But Dr. T seemed to want to know how her death was fueling my dreams. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that but she kept on asking me how I felt. How do you even respond to something like that?
“You seem distracted, Rebecca,” she said, setting down her notepad.
“There’s a lot on my plate.”
“Understandable” she said, looking at the clock sitting on the coffee table in front of us. “The two of us have been talking for about two hours now.”
Really. Who would have thought?
She continued. “I think we’re making good progress but there’s something I need for you to do on your own.”
“As long as it doesn’t require me going around and hugging people, I’ll do it.”
She laughed. “Nothing that extreme. But I think it’s time you come face to face with your grief.”
____________________________
It took me about a day or so to do what she suggested.
I kinda dragged my feet because I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do what I think she wanted me to do. I’ve been avoiding it for so long, but I knew it was about time. So after leaving Dr. Tipps’ office I made some arrangements. Where I needed to go was off Center. I went to Mrs. Fine and told her my plan. I wasn’t sure what she was going to say. She kinda surprised me when she told me it was a good idea and actually asked if I wanted her to come along. But I refused, telling her that something like this really needs to be done alone. I think she understood that.
So after that I built up enough courage to actually do it. I’ve been avoiding it for so long…I didn’t know how to do it or even what to say. Stella actually gave me some sound advice. She told me to just be myself, talk about whatever comes into your head, maybe say good bye.
“So here I am, Trish,” I said, talking to her headstone.
It was a nice one, real big and made out of marble. Homeland Security went all out. They placed her in a private part of the cemetery, near these real pretty yellow rose bushes. There was even a little fountain a ways away and a copse of trees behind her. The cemetery was a couple miles down the road from the Center. Officially, it was an unsanctioned government plot. There were a few others buried here too, most of them in unmarked graves. A lot of the enemies we killed were buried around here---I don’t know where and I don’t care. Barry will be placed here too. I’ve already sent in a request to get him a headstone though. I didn’t like the idea of him not having one. I’m still waiting for the authorization on that.
I cleared my throat, fighting back the tears. “I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get here but I’ve been really busy.”
I told her everything. I know it sounds stupid because I’m not sure if she can hear me but I did anyways. I spilled my guts to her, finally succumbing to my tears. It took me a long time but I think in the end it felt pretty good to get it off my chest.
“I’m sorry if I disappointed you too,” I said, now on my knees. “I went after him. I know I shouldn’t have, but he killed you. I couldn’t let that bastard just walk away like that. He took you from me, ruined our lives, ruined our plans. But I failed. I was tricked into following a false trail and in the end, I ran into something much worse. Barry is dead because of it.”
I didn’t tell her about Barry being a traitor. It would have broken her heart. He helped us so much, helped her so much. I think she would have been appalled to know that we inadvertently led him to the Center. I did tell her about Declan though, telling her how I should have killed him back in Section Four and all the problems he’s been causing. Once again, I’m not sure if she can really hear me or not. I’m not sure what I believe as far as the Hereafter goes. I’d like to think there is a place where good people go and where bad people are punished. Declan and Dekker deserve the bad place. Hell, all the Syndicate bastards need to rot there---I’m sure some of them are.
I stayed on my knees for about ten minutes, muddying my brand new tights. Yep I wore a dress; Trish would have laughed at that. She would have liked it too.
A snap sounded behind me. I didn’t react. I knew he was there; he’d been following me since I left this morning. I’m not sure when I picked him up but he’d been tailing for at least a couple of hours now. He was a good soldier, stealthy and sly. But sloppy too. It took me a long time to make the connection. When I saw him on the plane going to England the beard through me. He looked so familiar but I was distracted. I spotted him again in the city, when I was running after my imaginary Dekker. I only caught him out of the corner of my eye though. I didn’t pay much attention there. It was at Declan’s though that I kinda figured it out. When he shot Miles. It bothered me when I thought it was Janks. But when I all but confirmed it wasn’t, it could only be one other person.
I sighed, slowly getting to my feet. My escort was back at the car, probably reading the paper. But it wouldn’t matter. If the guy hiding behind the tree wanted me dead, he would have done it when he first followed me into the cemetery. He was here to talk. He was unarmed; I could tell by the way he was standing. The only weapon I had was a small dagger and it was in my purse---something that was lying two feet away. Not that I needed it though.
“You’re getting sloppy, Mr. Red.”
I heard a slight laugh. I turned and he stepped out from behind the tree. He was dressed in a large trench coat, buttoned up. His hair was slicked back, he was wearing dark sunglasses and he was recently shaved. The last time I saw him, before half recognizing him on the plane was months ago. He was with us when we left Section Four. I thought he was a good guy back then but he was just a snake with a conscience. He killed my best friend, Dell, left a note explaining the whole thing. I suppose it was the least he could do. Gideon had told me to ditch him anyway. Mr. Red aka Greg Dwyer was a Merc, a hired gun. He was brought in to teach us all how to be more efficient killers or some shit like that. All the girls used to fawn over because he was so damn cute. Even now, standing by the tree, he was still a looker. But that warming smile was gone, replaced by a hard edge.
“How long have you known I’ve been there?”
“Since outside the gate” I said “your bike makes too much noise.”
He followed me from the Center on a motorcycle; I think he thought he was being stealthy. But you can’t hide those things from the likes of me.
He smirked. “You’re getting better at those things.”
“I had a good teacher.”
He nodded. “You should give him an apple then.”
The pleasantries were annoying now. If I had a gun, I wouldn’t hesitate to shot this bastard. Dell was the only friend I had in that hell hole of a foster home I came from. This man took that from me. He deserved to die. “I take it this little meeting has a purpose?”
He smiled. He opened his coat to show that he was unarmed. “I come in peace.”
“I know. If you’d been armed I never would have let you get that close.”
He laughed. “As astute as ever” I nodded. “But sloppy too. You should have made sure the bullet went into that bastard’s head.”
I nodded. “I missed the opportunity.”
“You hesitated. You had a chance to shoot him in the hall after he shot Barry. You could have taken him then.”
I didn’t disagree. “What’s done is done. I’ll get him next time.”
There would be one too; I had no doubt about that.
He smirked. “He’s going to run back to Daddy you know.”
I nodded. “Is that why you came here. You the Messenger now?”
“Consider me someone concerned for your well being.”
“I’m touched. Is that why you plugged Miles?”
He didn’t deny it. “I don’t like to leave things hanging. I wronged you and I was trying to make amends for it.”
The fire flared in me. So one murder for a next. That’s what he called making amends. How fucked up is that. “I could have handled it”
“No you couldn’t have and you know it. They had you beat. I gave you the upper hand.”
“You come here for a thank you, then?”
“No” he said, leaning against the tree. “I’ve come here to tell you that I’ve found who you’ve really been hunting for.”
Dekker. I felt a pang of excitement. Revenge? I’d been duped before, by people I trusted in fact. But by someone I don’t trust, someone I don’t even like. “I’m not interested.”
He smiled. “Oh yes you are.”
He had me there. “I’ve gotten over it.”
He shook his head. “No you haven’t” He leaned off the tree and reached into his coat. He pulled out a large manila colored envelope and tossed it at my feet. “Everything you want to know is in there.”
I glanced at the envelope and quickly back at him. “Does this make us even now?”
He chuckled. “No this makes us partners.”
“Partners?”
He nodded. “I want the Syndicate gone just as much as you do. I hate it when I get screwed over by pompous billionaires and their bratty progeny. I figure you and I have the same goals. We both want to ruin Carson. I figure you help me do that then the two of us are even.”
I still didn’t look at the envelope. “I’m not interested.”
He ignored me. “When you open it up and look inside, you’ll find a card. That’s my personal number. Don’t bother trying to trace it because it’s scrambled. When you decide to make your move, give me a call and I’ll give you whatever back up is necessary. You might even get a chance to use that fancy engraved bullet you’ve got burning a hole in that pocket of yours.”
I looked at my coat pocket. How did he know? I snapped back up to ask him and he was gone. Son of a bitch. I ran to the tree but he was nowhere in sight. I listened for him. I caught him running off, toward the fence. I suppose I could give chase but there was no reason. Besides, I had to admit that his offer intrigued me a little. I heard him gunning the motorcycle a few minutes later and listened as it peeled away. I went back to Trish; the envelope was lying on top of her grave. I stared at it, biting my lip. Everything I wanted was in there. Dekker was in there, everything about him. My hand trembled as I bent down and reached for the envelope.
I stopped for a second before picking it up. Could I really do this? I looked at Trish’s headstone. Can I do this, Trish? Revenge has brought me nothing but heartache. Its lead me down a nasty road. I hurt my friends, I hurt myself. I hurt you.
I sighed and made a decision. I grabbed the envelope but at the same time reached into my pocket and pulled out the bullet. Revenge led me down a horrible path. But doing the right thing was going to lead me down the other. If there was information in here that I could use against the Syndicate than I was going to use it. If I happened to run into Dekker along the way then I’m not sure what I’d do about it. I’d handle that when I got there. But revenge… I took a deep breath and laid the bullet on top of Trish’s headstone.
Then I turned and walked away.
Photo Credit: Model AJ Stewart
Rick Grant has always been in control of his life, whether its living on the streets or stealing to survive. But when things get out of control he finds himself facing off against a very dangerous organization with vicious tactics, persuasive agents and a deadly agenda.
After losing a bet, young Chris finds his life thrust into an interesting and unexpected direction. Instead of fighting the changes, he decides to Just Roll With It.
Chris is now fully Christy. She's accepted this new turn of her life but now she has to convince herself and most definitely others that this is truly what she wants.
Just Keep Rolling
Part One by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: So here we are once again. Sorry it took me so long to get this one up and rolling but there were just things about this new story that just weren't flowing right. I think part of the problem is filling in some of the plot that I wanted to do. I have an end game in mind and key plot points I want to cover but its the in-between things I having trouble coming up with. As it is, I think I have most of those ironed out. Once again I will post a chapter a week and I highly recommend that you read Just Roll With It because like Peter Jackson I don't do that whole recap thing.
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1:
The gentle knocking on my door woke me.
I think I was dreaming. It was a pretty good one too. I dreamed that I somehow miraculously changed into a girl, practically overnight. I hated it at first, was scared of it in fact but slowly I accepted it. I tried to hide it from everyone but people found out---Sara and Kate for starters. Things were going well until I collapsed after my soccer game. Then I went to the hospital and everyone found out. My crazy bible thumping mother found out. She didn’t take it so well. It was a strange dream.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
A dream, though.
That’s when I felt the weight on my chest.
And there it was.
Well, there they were.
My breasts.
If only it had been a dream. I’m not saying I really wanted it to be one. It sounded like one, though. I mean guys didn’t change into girls but here I am. I’d been a healthy---albeit small---boy and now I wasn’t. In the mirror, I was so much different now. I was a bit taller, a lot curvier and definitely not a boy. I was happy though too. I still can’t figure that bit out. I shouldn’t have been happy. I mean what normal boy would be happy to turn into a girl. But I was, I truly was. Maybe it was because I wasn’t much of a boy to begin with or maybe it was the lie.
The lie grandpa and Emily wanted me to tell.
Maybe it was the truth after all.
They still didn’t know what had caused this.
Hey, it’s possible.
I groaned, pushing myself out of bed. My new assets swayed a bit as I made my way to the bathroom. Last night, Sara had surprised me with a new set of pajamas. I frowned a bit at it of course. It was a cami top and pair of short sleep shorts. My sister seemed to enjoy it, though. She went out of her trouble to get them for me. Even though I wasn’t thrilled, I pleased her last night when I put them on. I pleased her, even more when I told her I’d let her take me shopping today. Sara apparently wanted to do the whole sister bonding thing.
She’d been so thrilled about it last night, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.
Truthfully, I just wanted to veg around the house today.
It was Friday after all. I needed today and this weekend to relax because I knew Monday was gonna be hell. Emily called last night; apparently she’d managed to set up a meeting with my principal and the superintendent. My mother was supposed to be there as well. They were to discuss my future schooling plans. Emily told me she’d instructed Mom it might be wise to have a lawyer present too just in case. I doubt Mom really cared.
I didn’t really know what Mom thought.
I was asleep when she came home last night.
I was just thrilled she didn’t pack up all my things or lock my door on me.
I was stripping out of my sleepwear when Sara came waltzing into the bathroom. Startled, I covered myself with my discarded clothes.
“Sweetie, you have nothing I haven’t seen before”
My sister might not have been very modest but I was. At least, I appeared to be now.
In my defense, though, she startled me.
“Not everyone is keen to show off their bodies like you,” I said, tossing my clothes into my hamper.
She smirked. “And what a body it is”
She gave my butt a gentle smack.
I swatted her hand away.
I was just glad I remembered to pee before I got naked. I didn’t want an incident like yesterday morning. Peeing all over myself was a onetime thing I didn’t plan to repeat.
“We have a big day planned,” she said, starting to fill me in on it.
I tuned most of it out while I got into the shower. The running water tuned the rest of it out. I could hear her talking but I closed my eyes and lost myself to the massaging jets caressing my new, much more sensitive body. If by some miracle they found a way to change me back, I’d refuse simply on the principle of the shower.
It felt so good.
Sara wasn’t there when I got out but she left two towels for me. I sighed; I’d probably have to change the color of those. Mom had color coordinated our towels to make it easier for her. Sara had rose pink and I had a teal blue. I suppose they still worked but it just felt a little weird. I wrapped one around my body and the other around my head. It felt like I was stealing my brother’s towels. I know it was silly but I couldn’t shake that feeling.
On the bed was an outfit.
Sara apparently didn’t think I could pick out anything.
Not that she had a bad taste of course. It’s just that thinking about the outfits she brought me yesterday, I cringed thinking about what was apparently in store for me today. Looking at it, though, I found it was surprisingly plain. Another pair of jeans and long sleeved top. I finished drying off then went to adorn myself. I slipped into another pair of my boy cut panties then a bra that matched. The bras were a bit of problem I noticed. I only had a few after all and they were given to me before I went into the hospital. They were a little tight and didn’t fit quite right. I thought about wearing the sports bra again but I’m told it smushes the boobs.
I’d get it all sorted today.
The bra wasn’t the only ill-fitting thing.
The jeans were small. They still went on but I had a hard time getting them buttoned.
“Wow, look at you,” said Sara, coming back into the room with her hairdryer.
She took me by the hand, through the bathroom, and into her room. Sitting me down at her vanity, she went to work. She dried my hair then proceeded to style it. She went with a simple French braid, making me pay careful attention to what she was doing. I tried but it looked hard. She made a comment about the length, suggesting we make a hair appointment to get some of it trimmed up. I didn’t argue there. I had way too much hair.
“Makeup is tricky,” she said, turning my face in her hands. “I know what Cindy did the other day but it was frankly too much. A girl your age, less is more. Besides Mom will never let you go out of the house wearing too much anyways”
I remember.
Sara was sixteen before Mom let her really go all out.
In the end, she decided on a bit of eyeliner, some light shadow, and some lip-gloss.
It was enough to make my face pop.
One thing she did do was finally get at my brows. She’d been trying for what felt like weeks now. I tried to protest but this time, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. When she was done, I had to admit them looked a lot better, much more feminine and they made my face look different too. I already looked different but now I looked more like a girl.
She did her best with my nails too.
A little shaping and some light pink polish.
She deemed me ready after that.
“Isn’t this a little too much?” I asked, keeping my fingers spread like she said so they’d dry.
“You’re a girl now right?”
“Yes,” I said, blushing.
“Ok then”
“It’s that simple?”
She shrugged. “This is new territory for both of us. Sure I’ve had girl friends and we’ve done things like this but I’ve never had a sister before. I’m kinda winging this whole thing”
Honestly, I couldn’t really remember Sara doing this with her friends.
At least never when I was around.
Then again, she only ever really had a handful. Gina was the only one who I really remembered. She and Sara didn’t hang out much anymore though because both of them worked a lot. Gina was also still on the team too. I think after quitting the team, their friendship changed. It also didn’t help that Sara planned on going out of state to college next fall. Gina was going to a community college to study makeup. It was sad because they used to be pretty good friends. It made me wonder what Kate and I would be like in a few years. Would we have interests that would push the two of us apart too?
“C’mon, get your shoes on so we can go”
We went back to the Galleria.
It was definitely a lot different on a Friday morning when most if not all the teenagers were in school. It was still pretty well packed but there was, at least, some room to maneuver. As soon as we got there, Sara made one thing very clear to me. Everything was on her. I was not to spend a single penny of my money. She wanted to do this for me and there would be no arguing. So begrudgingly, I let her be the boss. Of course, just like our previous trip, she took charge immediately.
She was bound and determined to build me a wardrobe from the ground up.
We hit the teen-oriented stores first.
Rue21, GAP, American Eagle.
Lots of jeans and shirts were purchased there. She even managed to wrangle in a jean skirt or two. I did like leggings though I discovered. I’d been seeing and I guess admiring the ones that Kate wears and wanted some of my own. That’s actually how I ended up with some skirts. I did give her quite a scare though when I suggested we try shopping in Hot Topic. It didn’t take her long to realize I was joking. She got me back though when she dragged me into Victoria’s Secret. This though wasn’t a joke. She only got me one set there, though.
She really wanted me to go there to get properly fitted.
32 A just like Emily’s measurements said.
After that, we did all my underwear shopping in Penney’s.
In Foot Locker, we got some shoes.
She got me another pair of Nikes and another pair of Converse. She also talked me into getting this really cool pair of pink Converse heels. They were like a converse sneaker but with a wedge heel. I actually fell in love with them and managed to convince her to let me wear them out of the store.
It was nearing noon when we left the shoe store.
“Ok so lunch?”
I nodded. “I’m starved”
We started for the food court, lugging my many bags. I felt like one of those spoiled princesses.
We decided to have pizza. It was quick and easy. There was this great place that sold New York style with slices bigger than my head. Sara tried to talk me out of it but I ordered two slices. I was halfway through the first slice when I realized what she meant. My eyes had apparently been bigger than my stomach. Though I did discover something about my new self. My appetite had clearly changed. I always used to have a huge appetite but had a real fast metabolism. It used to drive Sara nuts. Now it would seem I still felt like I could eat a lot but my body was telling me differently.
“I told ya,” she said as we got a box for my second uneaten slice.
“Another thing to put on my list,” I said.
Last night after getting home and situated, Sara and I had a nice talk. She wanted me to let her know if I ever felt bad or upset. She didn’t want me to bottle it up; she wanted me to come to her with anything. What happened to me was drastic and the fact that I was taking it so well scared her. It was her idea to come up with a list. She wanted me to write down anything new I was experiencing or anything that had changed or was different. She even suggested a diary. It was a good idea but I wasn’t ready to take things that far yet.
When we finished, Sara looked across the food court.
“Hey I was thinking, you want to hit Claire’s before we go?”
“What for?”
She tweaked one of my earlobes. “Well, I thought you’d like to try having those pierced?”
Pierced?
“I hadn’t really thought about it actually”
“Well, I thought maybe it might help. I’m not saying you should but it would help embrace the girl a bit”
That was another thing we talked about last night.
Embracing girlhood.
It was actually my idea. If all those tests over the last week had proved, it was that there was no going back. Whatever happened to me was permanent and no amount of anything---save surgery---was gonna change that. I was a girl now. As such, I decided I wanted to embrace it as much as I could. Like my father’s motto, I decided I was going to roll with this girl thing and see where it took me. I want to try what life had to offer me now. I didn’t really have much of a life before outside of school and soccer. I wouldn’t even have gone to that Halloween dance if not for the bet. I wanted to change that.
Christy was going to be social.
Christy was also a girl and most girls I knew pierced their ears.
So yeah.
“That sounds like a great idea!” I said cheerfully and meant it.
Sara raised an eyebrow. “Too much I think”
We both laughed.
Sara left me with some money. She wanted to take our bags to the car. I say our bags because there was no way in hell she’d come to the mall and not shop. I offered to help carry them too but she waved me off. She scooped them all up in her arms, carrying them without a problem. I seemed to always forget that she was a lot stronger than she looked. I watched her go. I walked over to the trash bins, dumped our trays and turned around to find myself face to face with Amber.
Shit.
“Chris?” she asked, looking a bit confused.
Now or never.
“Hey Amber,” I said with a smile.
“OMG”
Yes, she actually said it that way.
She squealed and gave me a big hug.
“I’ve been so worried about you,” she said, “I mean I heard what happened after the game Sunday night. Then they said you were in hospital and…you’re a girl?”
I nodded. “Last time I checked yep”
“No I mean” She lowered her voice. “You were a boy before?”
I nodded. “Medical condition”
I decided to go with the lie. I mean Amber knew some of it already but the lie could really work. It would explain some things while being an explanation for others. Like how I was seemingly in a boy’s locker room and on the boys soccer team. The whole “well they thought I was a boy but it turned out I wasn’t really” thing could really work for me.
I gave her a quick explanation of it all.
She gave me another hug.
“That explains so much now,” she said, nodding.
“It was a bit of shock to all of us”
“Your boobs?” she asked, looking at the very noticeable bumps on my chest.
“Most of it padding”
I’d have to tell a few more lies to work this. Breasts just did not grow as fast as mine did so they’d have to be “padding” until I could safely reveal my “true” ones.
“My hair is extensions too,” I quickly added.
That had also grown too fast.
A few little lies, no harm in that.
“So does this mean that you’ll let us teach you how to be a cheerleader now?”
Crap I’d forgotten all about that.
That first practice was nearly two weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. I guess in some small way it actually was. I hadn’t really given it much thought, though. I mean I did have fun. There was just a lot of other things on my mind then and now. I didn’t hate the idea actually but I think I needed more time to figure things out first.
“Maybe,” I said, hoping it was a vague enough answer.
She nodded. “So are you shopping?”
“Just finished,” I said, sad at her look of disappointment.”I was going to hit Claire’s though. Get my ears pierced. You want to come along?”
She practically beamed at that. She took my hand and dragged me over. Ok dragged is a strong word, more like aggressively led me there. She seemed to know the twenty-something girl behind the counter because they talked like old friends. Amber explained the situation---about my ears, no my medical thing. The girl didn’t seem to care. I was apparently the right age that most girls got their ears pierced actually.
The piercing itself wasn’t that bad.
I was surprised how quick and painless it was.
I was now the proud owner of two little fake diamond studs.
Amber helped me pick out a couple more pairs then a really cute gold chain.
“So I was meaning to ask,” I said as we left the store. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“It’s a Girl’s Day”
Is this something I should know about?
“What’s that?” I asked.
She lowered her voice. “I was feeling really shitty this morning---you know my time of the month. Me and the other girls started calling it a Girl’s Day. So whenever we start, we always take the first day off”
I nodded understanding. I understood for other reasons as well.
I was dreading my first Girl’s Day.
“I don’t even want to think about it,” I said, shuddering.
“Can you have?”
I nodded. “Full girl. I can have babies and everything”
“Wow. That must have been an eye opener”
“Yeah, shocked the hell out me”
“I can only imagine”
We changed subjects as we went to find a bench. This was the spot Sara told me to wait for her at. As we sat, Amber wanted to know what I was going to do for school. I told her what I knew but of course, I’d know more after Monday morning. Legally I knew my rights. The school district had laws about transgendered students and the like. There was a great tolerance plan in the books on it. Though I wasn’t exactly transgendered, I had a pretty good idea that that was how they were going to treat this. Emily seemed to think she could get more. I was a girl now. Her hope was that I would be treated as if I’d always been that way just with a “misdiagnosis” at birth.
We talked a little more until Sara arrived.
Amber and I stood up together to greet her.
“So you have my cell number right?” she asked, I nodded. “Good, I’m gonna call you tomorrow night. Let me know if you want to do practice again, ok?”
I nodded.
She gave me another hug.
“It was so nice to meet you again, Christy”
She left after that.
“Practice?” asked my sister, giving me an evil look.
“Don’t even?” I said.
Sara laughed; I gave her a little shove and then took off for the exit.
Talking to Amber at the mall made me realize one very important thing.
I had a lot of catching up to do.
I avoided my cell the whole time I was in the hospital, even after they gave it back to me. I knew I had a lot of texts and voice mails but I wasn’t really in the mood to explain things. They were still there when I got home last night and they were definitely still there when I got back from shopping. Putting them off or ignoring them didn’t help me any either. So after getting home and putting all my new stuff away, I set about taking a look. The first several were from Sunday of course, mainly people trying to see if I was all right. Monday’s messages were much of the same. The ones from Tuesday were a bit more frantic.
It was there that people realized I was in the hospital.
Several of the messages were from John and Kate. I had a few from Greg. I noticed more than a few from Dan as well. I smiled at that. The messages seemed to peter out on Wednesday though. They stopped coming from Kate after she visited. Then she never visited again. I’d like to say I was mad about that but I knew how much she hated hospitals. It was connected to her mother so I understand that completely. I was just happy that she even showed once. I was a little annoyed that she was the only one, though.
Yesterday there were no messages.
I checked my email next.
It was all pretty much the same.
I read what I could but got tired of the same so I deleted a lot of it. Hey, I’m not being heartless but tired of reading the same stuff over and over again.
An hour later, I was done.
Absolutely exhausting.
Now I needed to make the phone calls.
The first one on my list was Kate.
She answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” I said, there was a long silence.
“Wow,” she finally said with a laugh. “Took me a second to realize this strange girl calling me out of the blue was you”
“I’m using my cell”
She laughed. “Sorry just not used to connecting that voice to you”
I knew the feeling.
“It’s different,” I said, we both laughed.
“So,” she said, “How’s girlhood treating you so far?”
“Good. Went shopping today, got lots of clothes, had my ears pierced”
“Damnit”
“What?”
“I wanted to be there for that” she actually whined.
“Sorry”
“Can you do it again?”
“Do what again?”
“The ear piercing thing. I missed it. I want to be there”
“Kate, I only have two ear lobes. I can’t exactly have them pierce them again”
“Of course, you can!”
I knew exactly what she was thinking. After all, she had three piercings in each of her ears. She also had a ring through her left eyebrow.
“Ummm yeah not happening”
“Oh c’mon” She whined again.
Since when did she turn into such a whiner?
She spent the next few minutes whining some more and trying to convince me to at least get one more in each ear.
I didn’t cave.
I decided to change the subject. “So how are things?”
“Boring,” she said, “school is dull without you. I had to sit by myself in class and in lunch and I had to listen to those three nerds talk about stupid stuff”
“Oh poor you”
“I’m giving you the finger right now”
I laughed. “So what’s the verdict on me?”
“Well everyone knows by now you’re in the hospital. Thanks for letting me know you got out by the way.”
Oops.
“Anyway, there’s some interesting theories about what happened. None of them close to the truth. It’s going to be fun when that comes out” she said then paused for a moment. “What is the plan for that anyways?”
“Medical condition,” I said and quickly told her the company line.
“You think that will work?”
I shrugged. “We’re meeting with the school people on Monday. Hopefully, if things go well, I’ll be back in school on Tuesday”
“So how’s your Mom?”
Ah, the elephant in the room.
“How do you think?”
“That bad huh?”
I quickly told her about what little I saw of her over the week then about the incident in Emily’s office. She thought it was awesome that Emily actually threatened to fire her. When I got to the part about my grandfather, Kate was ecstatic.
“I never thought he had it in him,” she said, impressed.
“Yeah, surprised me too”
“So you think your Mom will play nice?”
“Doubtful”
We talked a bit about how my Mom was cracked then I had to ask about the boys. I almost said “other boys” but realized I was no longer in that category.
“You need to call John. He feels really bad. He said you had a bit of a tiff before the game. He somehow thinks whatever happened is his fault”
Shit.
“I told him everything. He got a little annoyed at me when I told him I wasn’t going to see a doctor about it”
“No problem there anymore,” she said laughing.
‘What about Greg?”
“Neither John nor I knew what to say. I think most of the school thinks your appendix burst or something. We were going with that”
Wow, that’s going to be fun.
“Hey guys it wasn’t’ my appendix, just my manhood”
“Hey,” she said, after another moment of silence. “Snap a pic of yourself and send it my way”
“Why?”
“I want to know if I should be jealous”
I groaned. I spun my phone around and took a quick selfie. I felt like such an idiot. I sent it to her anyway, though.
“You bitch,” she said after a few secs.
She laughed though so it was all good.
“Seriously, though, you look so different.”
“Really?”
“Ok so maybe you still look like you but a girl you. Does that make any sense?”
“I think so”
“Ok so I see some Hannah in there a bit and some Sara but it’s mostly you. Just a softer, more feminine looking you”
“I was feminine enough”
“Not like this, though”
Well, that’s comforting.
“So you want to hang tomorrow?” she asked, jumping to another topic. “Hit the strips, do some window shopping. Maybe blow some of that birthday cash of yours?”
More shopping?
“You’re ok with that?”
“It’s Saturday. What else is there to do in boring town?”
She was right about that.
So we made our plans. She’d be by about ten in the morning or so. She said she’d arrange a ride. We’d hit the stores, maybe get some lunch afterward. Exactly what I did today with Sara. Except this time, it would be with Kate. As much as I loved going out with my sister today, I was really looking forward to tomorrow. After we made our plans, I let her go.
I thought about calling John but decided against it.
I did text him real quick, though.
OUT OF HOSPITAL. FINE NOW. TTYL---C.
Simple and to the point. I shut my cell off before I got a reply. I didn’t want to be one of those girls, you know waiting around for that text. I hated those girls. I went to the computer after that, replied to some of my emails then hit the Xbox. I groaned when I saw my gamertag---Lazerguy26. Hey, I made it when I was ten all right. It was stupid and pointless now, though. I decided to leave it be and made a new account. I would have to replay all my games again but I didn’t care. I was planning to get a One anyways.
Setting up a new profile was a pain in the ass, though.
New Tag too.
PixieSoccerGirl.
I liked it.
I spent the rest of the night jumping from one multiplayer session to another. I learned something important too. When guys found out you were actually a female gamer, they could be real scumbags. It got especially worse when I kicked most of their asses. I ended up reporting more people than I’d ever reported before. A couple of them ended up on my Ignore list. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was safe to shower with bleach afterwards.
Guys were pigs.
Yeah, I said it.
I’m glad I’m not one of them anymore.
Yeah, I said that too.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Just Keep Rolling
Part Two by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note:And Welcome to Ch.2. I saw it was a rather slow Sunday as far as chapter postings, So I decided to put this up today as a nice treat. We'll get to see some of her friends react to the brand new Christy in this chapter. I think there might be a surprise or two there.
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2:
“Now you’re getting it,” said Sara, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
We were sitting in front of her mirror. She had just spent the last ten minutes giving me another crash course in makeup. After a few do over’s, I was finally getting the hang of it I guess. I’d done this before of course. When they gave me that crash course back for Halloween. According to her, though, that was rudimentary. It was Mom and her telling a boy how to do makeup on a boy’s face. Sure it was a very feminine boy’s face but a boy’s face nonetheless. Things were different now. For one thing, I didn’t need all that concealer and other tricks to make myself look more feminine.
Simple and light was the key.
I liked what I was seeing.
“You sure you don’t need me to drive you?” asked Sara, for the umpteenth time.
“No,” I said, capping the eyeliner and picking up the lip-gloss. “Mr. Duncan is gonna take us”
I applied the gloss like a pro.
Satisfied, I smiled and left the vanity.
My sister followed me back into my room where my new coat was waiting. It was too cold now for the moto jacket which was a shame. It was a funny thing about that jacket. I thought for sure it was a men’s jacket until I tried it on and it fit like a glove. Sara confessed after that. Mom had been too busy with work and asked her to pick it out. Of course, sis knew about my changes and got me a jacket appropriate for my new body. Mom however never noticed. She never really noticed things like that, too preoccupied with herself to care.
My other new coat was something Sara bought me last night.
An item we forgot on our shopping excursion.
It was a lot like my coats I had before with a few exceptions. One it was cut for a slimmer body and two it had a large faux fur lined hood. It was warm, though, with these nice fleece cuffs. I had a pair of these fur lined leather gloves to go with it and one of those bands girls liked to wear just to cover my ears. I’m not sure where Sara was getting the money but I really needed her to stop. She only got minimum wages at the gift shop but I knew she was spending a fortune. I just for the life of me couldn’t figure out where said fortune was coming from. Sara had no money left from Dad; she spent all of it on the car. So where were the expendable funds flowing in from?
Kate interrupted me asking.
“Hey, where are you guys?” she shouted from downstairs.
Once again, she let herself in.
“We really need to lock those doors,” said Sara, rolling her eyes.
We both laughed and met up with Kate at the bottom of the stairs. Well, Sara did anyways. I was still descending when Kate just popped up.
“Jesus” she mumbled as I came down them. “I feel like a shlub now”
She wasn’t a slub, far from it. She was wearing her usual except now her leather jacket was over a hoodie. I did have to wonder how she kept warm in those skirts of hers, though. I mean she was wearing leggings but still she had to be freezing. There was snow on the ground after all now. It had been steadily snowing for the last couple of days. It was official, winter was here. Kate, it would seem didn’t get the memo.
“You’re not a slub,” I said.
“Whatever you say Princess”
“Well if I’m the Princess,” I said, putting on a snobbish tone. “Then peasant you may carry my bag”
I held out my new purse to her, holding it by the strap like I was too privileged to bother.
“As you wish, highness,” she said, giving me an elaborate bow.
We both laughed. I slung the purse over my shoulder and we hugged.
Yeah, I had a purse now. A hand-me-down from Sara but all mine now.
The purse was weird. I’m not sure I was ever going to get used to that. I mean before I just carried things in my pockets. Then again, I never really had to carry much just my wallet, maybe some loose change and my house keys. Now I had to carry all that plus some makeup, tissues and other feminine products, including a brush. I was a little embarrassed though last night when Sara threw a couple of her pads in there. It got even more embarrassing when afterward she showed me how to use one.
I’m a girl now with all the bells and whistles to go with it.
“You have enough money?” asked Sara as Kate and I went to the door.
“Yes mother,” I said in a mocking but sincere tone.
She gave me a shove. I gave her a hug and the two of us left the house. I started down the walk when I noticed her Dad’s pickup a bit full this morning. I mentioned that Kate had brothers right? Well, Sam was behind the wheel, I was used to him. What I wasn’t really used to was Brian. He was a few years younger than us, fifth grade I think. He’d always been a little pest to us before. Following us around, trying to be with the “cool” older kids. Now it seemed things had not changed.
“Sorry,” she said as we approached. “Dad had to work. Sam was the only one who could drive us and we couldn’t leave Brian”
I nodded.
More band-aid time.
When I approached the car, neither boy was really paying attention. Sam was listening to his iPod, Brian was plugging away at his Nintendo DS. It was Sam who noticed first. He turned toward us as we approached the truck. The look on his face was priceless. The last time I saw him had been that day in the kitchen, the first time I’d shown up at Kate’s in a couple of months. I had only really started to change back then but I looked pretty much like a boy then. Now I was all girl and the look of shock on Sam’s face was pretty evident.
“Holy shit,” he said as we got into the truck.
Kate got up front with her brother; I got into the back with Brian.
Brian looked at me and looked confused.
“I thought we were getting Chris?” he asked, looking at me like I was some kind of alien.
“That is Chris, dumbo” his sister said.
Brian looked at me closer. I smiled, his eyes only got bigger.
“Shit,” he said.
“Watch your mouth!” both his siblings snapped at the same time.
I noticed the truck still hadn’t moved, though. Sam kept shooting me glances in the rearview, ones that I wasn’t sure how to react too. Kate seemed to notice though and smacked him. That seemed to break him out of whatever stupor he was in because he started the vehicle after that. I did feel a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, though. Not from Sam’s constant looks, though, it was Brian. He stopped playing his game and definitely wasn’t hiding the fact that he was staring at me.
“So you’re a girl now?”
Kate answered for me. “Not now dumbass, always has been”
I think she was taking the initiative to use my cover story.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“I have a medical condition,” I said, realizing I’d have to get used to explaining it. “When I was born they thought I was a boy but I was actually a girl”
He gave me a strange look. “How is that possible? I mean boys just don’t turn into girls, do they?”
That’s what I wanted to know.
“She wasn’t a boy. She’s always been a girl”
“Doctors are stupid,” he said and finally went back to his game.
He did shoot me a smile, though.
I think I was going to be ok in his book.
I thanked God that I didn’t have a little brother. Not that I didn’t want one, I was just trying to figure out how all of this might have affected him. I was still afraid how it was going to affect my older one. Sara told me she’d been telling Ken everything but so far he didn’t bother to reach out to me. I’m not sure how I wanted to take that. Was it rejection or something else?
The ride to Main Street was fairly quiet after that. Though Kate finally smacked Sam hard because of his staring. The truck swerved. It was not cool.
The brothers Donovan dropped us off in front of this little ice cream shop. Then the two of them headed off to their movie.
“You tell Dave yet?”
“Not yet”
Dave was her older brother. He was the same age as Ken. Ken and Dave were best friends. It was actually through Dave that Kate seemed to come into my life. Like my brother, he was off in college too. Unlike Ken, though, he couldn’t afford to leave the state. He was going to a state school, learning to be a cop I think. At least that’s what Kate said. Kate’s parents were not all that different than mine except they were older. Her folks had Dave in their twenties. Then proceeded to have kids every few years afterward. Then sadly her mother got sick. Kate always used to say she was her “mother’s pride and joy” When her Mom died, I think Kate and Brian got the short end of the stick.
I mean Kate was six, Brian was only three.
One of these days I knew I’d have to get her to talk about her Mom.
Kate was an avoider, though.
“So girl friend,” she said, emphasizing the girl part. “Where do you want to go first?”
I shrugged. “The Princess shall follow her servant”
“As you wish my lady”
We laughed again then hit the shops.
We didn’t really buy anything. At least Kate didn’t. She, however, seemed bound and determined to get me to buy things. We hit a lot of the little boutiques. After the second one, it became very clear to me that Kate had an ulterior motive on this little trip of ours. She wanted me to be her personal doll. I’m not exactly sure how I felt about it either. She kept throwing outfits at me, wanting me to try them on but not bothering to try anything on herself. We were in the third or fourth shop when I’d had enough.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the most recent outfit she handed me.
“It’s a dress,” she said.
It was a nice one too. I’d seen a lot of girls at school wear them. A skater’s dress I think they were called. This one was a light blue.
“I know what this is,” I said, holding up the article of clothing. “I was referring to all the clothes and junk”
“Its two girls shopping?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s one girl shopping and other one taking great pleasure out of said shopping girl doing it. What the hell is going on?”
Kate had been smiling before but as soon as I snapped, her smile evaporated. It was replaced by a look I’d never seen on her before. That look was followed by tears and before I knew what was happening, she was out of the store. Cursing, I threw down the dress and rushed after her. The sales woman shouted something at me but I ignored her. I found my friend sitting on a bench a few stores down, crying. I approached her slowly, dropping down next to her. I put my arm around her, pulling her into a hug. I let her cry it out, waiting for her to tell me what was wrong.
“Its I’m sorry ok,” she said, still teary-eyed. “I…the other girls…they don’t like me”
“That’s not true,” I said, not really believing it myself actually.
Kate came off strong. She’d always been that way, though. It was one of the reasons she got along with the boys so well. Looking at her now something dawned on me. She might have gotten along well with said boys but it was clear she didn’t really want too. Sure, she did the same things we did but I think that’s what happens when you have three brothers and only a father to raise you. Kate was a girl after all and girls needed to be with other girls too. Something else occurred to me too. Us cutting her off, I think it was more her letting us go then the other way around.
At least trying and failing.
“You want to talk about it?”
She wiped her tears. “When you guys ditched me, it hurt. It hurt really bad. I thought there was something wrong with me you know. I cried for days. My Dad didn’t know what to do; my brothers definitely didn’t know what to do. It was Cindy and my aunt that seemed to pull me out of things. That’s why they took me on vacation. I think they thought if I spent some time around them that I might feel better. I did too. Then I met Chloe and she was awesome. Everything was good”
I nodded. “What changed then?”
“I got back to school,” she said sadly. “I thought that I could make new friends, girl friends. I tried but all of them were scared of me. They knew me only as K.C. and I tried to change that. I started calling myself Kate; I quit soccer and other sports. I started dressing more like a girl but nothing seemed to work. Then I saw you at the dance, dressed like that. It surprised the hell out of me. When we started talking again, I thought what the hell why bother. This is where my true friend was. I had you guys back, I had you back”
I gave her another hug.
“When I noticed your boobs growing, I freaked,” she said, sniffling. “I know I’m a horrible person. Then I got to thinking. If you were a girl---like me---then I’d have what I was missing. So I pushed you”
“No, you didn’t!”
She nodded. “Yes, I did. I shouldn’t have but I really wanted too. I was being a selfish bitch about it. I wanted so bad to have a real girl friend I thought that if I could somehow make you into her, even a little bit…”
Wow.
“Then when you started to change…I thought…I thought…”
She started to cry again. I held her, letting her sob into my shoulder.
“You thought you caused this?” I asked softly.
“I prayed to God every night for a friend, a girl friend,” she sobbed. “Then you started changing…”
“Kate,” I said, holding her shoulders gently. “You didn’t cause this”
She wiped her eyes. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “The doctors don’t know what’s going on but it wasn’t you.”
“You were a boy…”
“And now I’m a girl. I’m happy like this”
“You are?”
“Yes,” I said truthfully. “It was a little surprising at first but I’ve accepted it. Let’s be honest here too besides the soccer and video games, I wasn’t much of a boy to begin with”
She didn’t argue.
Just what I needed.
“I’m still a bitch,” she said finally, though.
“Why?”
“Well after we both realized there was probably no going back, all I could think about was myself and how I got my wish. I had this girl friend now, the one I always wanted. Then I started to get scared you might not want to be friends with me. So I started doing things with you that most girls did together”
I sighed. “That’s why you wanted to go shopping?” She nodded. “You hate shopping!”
“I know!” she said, laughing through her tears.
I hugged her again.
“Kate all girls are different. You don’t have to force yourself to be someone you don’t want to be. You can be KC if you want or you can be Kate or Katie or even Katherine”
She made a face at the last name, which got us both laughing.
“It doesn’t matter who you are,” I continued. “I’m still going to be your friend. Your best friend if you’ll have me?”
She nodded then hugged me this time. I started crying a bit after that.
When we were done, I realized we were both probably quite the sight.
“C’mon, we look like raccoons” I pulled her up from the bench.
We went into the nearest shop and made our way to the bathroom. Kate watched me with interest as I reapplied my makeup like a pro. She was stunned a bit, I noticed.
“You really are a girl aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.
“And proud of it!” I said with a giggle.
“Thanks, Chris,” she said as we left the bathroom.
I realized something else too. I think I knew who Chris needed to be. Sure I was Christy but that was just a nickname after all. It was a name that had also been thrust upon me. I liked it but it still needed something more.
“Christine,” I said with a smile. “I think I like Christine”
“Ok,” she said, stretching the “k” out a bit. “Is it ok if I still call you Christy, though. Because Christine sounds like the name of a bitch”
She laughed, I gave her a shove.
The sales woman in the store gave us a nasty look which only caused us to laugh more.
We weren’t two enemies, though.
We were two best girl friends.
Now and forever.
The shopping trip ended about an hour later in front of Leo’s, a local pizza joint that a lot of teenagers favored.
We were standing outside the door but had yet to go inside. I was seemingly frozen in place. I had one shopping bag in hand and a lot of butterflies in my stomach. We went back to that shop---the one where she had her breakdown. I bought that dress. It was just too damn cute and it looked amazing on me. Surprisingly Kate bought one too. Though hers was black and she planned to accessorize the hell out of it with skulls or something, it was cool she bought one. Maybe together the two of us could find and embrace our inner girly girl.
One thing we also had to face together.
Social situations.
Kate grabbed my hand.
“You want to eat somewhere else?”
I shook my head. “We have to do this eventually,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
It was a Saturday afternoon and of course, Leo’s was packed. It was always packed on Saturdays after all. This time was no different except everyone inside. Half of them were classmates, the other half an assortment of kids from Huntington and Prescott. Outside of school and social circles, Leo’s was a good place to mingle. It didn’t matter your social status or standing in there. It was like the Teen UN, all were welcome. I just couldn’t help but wonder how these “ambassadors” were going to respond to me.
Well, Just Roll With it.
Kate went in first, I followed shortly behind.
No one reacted.
I mean some people looked at us but only because they somewhat recognized us but no one said anything. We got into line, ordered our food then managed to snag one of the booths. A real score for us considering how sought after they were. I couldn’t help but feel there were eyes on me, though, like everyones. I glanced over at a group of girls from our school. They were Becky’s friends I think. One of them was Carla Jones; she was in my math class. She caught me looking---gave me a strange one in return---but went back to talking to her friends like I was nothing.
A moment later though, another girl at the table looked at us.
“Ummm, why is the Barbie Patrol looking at us?”
Kate called Becky’s friends the “Barbie Patrol” because most of them were blonde.
Like Carla and the other girl---Marcie---I think her name was.
Like me too I might add.
“I was kinda being nervous,” I said “you know looking around. I saw them, Carla saw me see them and now…”
Carla and Marcie’s looking was apparently contagious because the two other girls at the table were looking too. I cursed and nearly lost it. I could after all only see Carla and Marcie because they were facing me. The other two girls at the table had their backs to us so I only saw heads. However as soon as one of the heads turned, I wanted to die.
It was Becky.
And why wouldn’t it be, she didn’t go anywhere without them.
I locked eyes with her and she knew.
I could see the recognition on her face.
“Let’s leave now!” I said, getting up.
“Why?”
“Because Becky just realized who I was,” I said, trying to bolt but Kate grabbed my wrist.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said “we have to do this. Now or later, you can’t run from these people”
She was right of course.
I sat back down and sure enough Becky was coming over. I wanted to crawl under the table and never come out. Hey, it was a nice restaurant, I’m sure the owner wouldn’t mind a teenage girl living here.
“Hey guys,” said Becky, looking at me strangely.
“Barbie,” said Kate with a sneer.
“Becks,” I said then silently cursed myself.
“Chris” she gasped. “It really is you!”
I nodded. “In the flesh”
“What the hell happened?”
She quickly waved her friends over. Great, more Barbies. Somehow they thought it was an invitation because they slipped into our booth where they could. Kate gave me a look so I knew how she was enjoying it. There wasn’t enough room so two of the girls had to sit at the nearby table. All of them were looking at me. When Becky said “She is Chris” that got them to look even more. Begrudgingly and probably not for the last time, I told them the lie. I was getting pretty good at telling it now though so at least that was a plus.
“Wait so you’re a girl?” asked Becky.
I nodded. “Yep”
“How can that be,” she said then blushed. “We used to bathe together when we were little. You had a little thing, I saw it”
“It wasn’t real,” said Kate “at least not in the sense you think. It was more like an extension of things down there”
She made a gesture to her groin area.
Where in the hell did she learn that?
The girls seemed to nod. Becky nodded too but she was making a face as well. Not a good one either I noticed. And there was the first. I think I saw it as soon as she realized who I was. It was the disgust. Not quite the same as my mother’s---Becky hid hers better---but it was there nonetheless. Her friends didn’t have it I’m surprised to say but she sure did. She kept looking at me then looked away. She was reading me, though, I could tell. I knew then too. I knew from that moment I could no longer consider her a friend.
The girl I once liked now hated me.
Her loss.
Kate and I tried our best to be civil with the Barbies but we really weren’t in that crowd. After about five minutes or so, the novelty of me wore off and they went back to their table. I was glad to have them gone. I was especially glad Becky was gone too. I hated the false way she seemed to be “okay” with me when she clearly wasn’t. Looking at her, I remembered something too, something insignificant until now. Our mothers were friends, did a lot together---including going to that group together.
Unlike me and my siblings, apparently Becky believed the bull.
I felt sad for her.
“Well that was shit,” said Kate sadly. “You had a thing for her right?”
“Emphasis on had,” I said and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Well fuck her”
We both agreed then and there that if someone couldn’t accept me for me then they weren’t worth our time. I didn’t choose to be like this but I was going to chose to live like this. I was a girl now and if people couldn’t accept it then they weren’t really my friends after all.
Our pizza arrived and we tried to put it past us. The two of us were back to having a good time. I did notice that Becky left soon after talking to us. She was the only one, though. Her friends were still there. Carla looked at me and mouthed “sorry”. I think she knew. It was hard not to. It was nice of her, though, I mean to show some genuine concern. I tried to not think about it. It helped that Kate was distracting me. She already had another trip planned. She wanted to see if someone could take us to the Galleria to do some serious shopping. She’d even let me get her into some things I picked out. I liked the idea of it even if I didn’t really know what I was doing.
We finished our pizza a little after that. Of course, we had to get a box to take the leftovers. We both agreed to give them to Sam for driving us. While Kate was calling him on her cell, I noticed three familiar fools walking our way.
I cursed.
Greg, Brad and John.
Apparently, I was already replaced. I mean I knew Brad was getting chummy with the two of them, I just never thought he’d downright replace me. I was wondering why neither of them had been around much lately when I called. Now I knew why. I was a little pissed. I say a little because I realized I’d been doing pretty much the same to them except with Kate. She and I had been spending a lot more time together, time that I usually spent hanging with them. Not that we really did much together---me and the boys---besides just playing games. Lately, it was a lot of listening to them talk about which girls they wanted to date and that crap.
Nothing I could really join in.
Seeing them now together---the three of them---made me peeved.
It also made me really nervous.
Sure John knew about me but he’d seen me at the game. A me that was a lot different than the me now. Greg and Brad, of course, had no idea.
The worst part was they were heading our way. I was hoping they wouldn’t notice us but of course, John saw Kate. He was still hung up on her, it was sad really.
“Hey Kate,” he said as she finished her call.
“Hey guys,” she said, looking a bit surprised and nervous.
“”Hey,” said Greg and Brad.
Both of them were looking at me strangely.
“Who’s your friend?” asked John, giving me a good look.
I think it dawned on him a second later. I saw it in his eyes. Just like Becky, he suddenly realized who I was.
“Pixie,” he said softly.
Not soft enough though because Greg, of course, twigged on it.
“No fucking way,” he said, giving me a look.
A Becky look.
Shit.
“So this is what you’ve been doing?” he asked, clearly disgusted. “This is why you can’t hang with us anymore. Because you’re out traipsing around in a dress, playing girl with Kate”
“I’m not playing anything”
“Yeah,” said John defensively. “She is a girl”
“She?” asked Greg. “What, he has you calling him a girl now?”
“She is a girl,” said Kate, clarifying.
“I was misdiagnosed at birth…” I started to say, giving Greg the same talk.
“Bull shit,” he snapped, really angry.
“Bull nothing” snapped Kate.
Greg wasn’t buying it. “You’re either a guy or a girl. You can’t be both and you can’t decide you want to be one or the other”
“She didn’t decide,” said John, coming to my defense again. “This was how she was born. She didn’t even know it until puberty started”
Greg didn’t seem to be listening anymore.
“Bull shit” he snapped again, angrier than before.
He started to push past us, really pissed off. In the process, he gave me a shove. I nearly fell over from being caught off guard in my converse heels. Kate reacted of course. She shoved him back, angrily I might add. When he balled up a fist, aiming toward me I was surprised when Brad grabbed his arm. I was even more surprised when Greg was on the ground a moment later, eating pavement. It had been so fast. I never even saw Brad move. Brad was on top of him now too, a knee in the back of Greg’s neck.
“You owe the lady an apology,” he snapped, angry.
“That’s not a lady”
“Apologize now!”
Brad grounded his knee into Greg’s shoulder blades. Sam apparently arrived in the middle of the scene. He saw what was going on and got out of the truck. At the sign of our apparent distress, he got Greg away from Brad. Not to help him up of course.
“Did you touch my sister you little punk?” he asked, grabbing the front of Greg’s shirt and lifting him a couple of inches off the ground.
Greg looked like he was about to piss himself.
“Sam we’re fine,” said Kate, putting her hand on his shoulder.
Sam let go of Greg but gave him a shove, away from us.
“Start walking and if you go anywhere near these two girls again, you better wish my sister is there to stop me”
Greg took off. Brad and John I noticed didn’t follow.
Both of them apologized for how stupid Greg had been. I just wanted to leave. I thanked them and Sam for the help. I was starting to feel the tears though and didn’t want them to see me cry. Kate caught on and told the boys we had to go.
“See you later” I managed as I got into the truck.
Sam was alone this time. I was happy for that because I didn’t want to cry in front of Brian either. As it was, Kate got into the back seat with me. The tears didn’t start to flow until we were pulling away, the boys in our rearview. Kate wrapped me in a hug and held me as I cried.
Two friends.
I’d lost two of them today.
How in the hell was I supposed to Roll with that?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Just Keep Rolling
Part Three by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here we are again, another week, another new chapter. Something happens in this chapter that people have been asking for so I hope it pleases people when it happens. I think I might have to slow down posting or write faster because I only have one more finished chapter after this written lol.
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3:
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this”.
I was in Sara’s room, standing once again in front of that giant mirror of hers. I’d really have to get one of my own. As it was now, though, I was safe in the fact that she even let me use it. What I wasn’t safe with was what I was currently wearing. I’ve avoided wearing dresses for the simple reason that it felt like a “point of no return” for me. Sure I owned a few thanks to my shopping excursions with both Sara and Kate. I loved the dresses I bought but they were just that---something I bought. I never actually thought about wearing them.
That is until last night.
I came to the realization that I’d missed church two weeks in a row already. The first weekend was because of that cheer practice I got roped into. Then I was in the hospital for the next one. The latter was unavoidable of course but this week I had no excuse. I wanted to show grandpa and the others that I wasn’t afraid either. I knew the road ahead was going to be tough but I wanted to get in front of this now. Most of my fellow classmates would be at church, it was a good time to show those who already didn’t know that this was who I am now.
Chris is gone, Christy here to stay.
Yesterday had solidified things for me in that regard.
After my run-ins with both Greg and Becky, I cried myself home. I cried for a while afterward too. Then I came to a decision. Well two of them actually. The first was that I wasn’t going to ever let jerks make me cry again. The second decision was bigger, though. I decided that I was going to get ahead of this thing before nasty rumors started to spread. Church was the perfect place to do so. If people still had problems with it then that was their problem. Narrow-minded idiots were always going to be that way and very little could change that.
I needed to be me now.
And the me I needed to be had to wear a dress.
This dress.
Sara bought it for me last night when I told her my decision. Unfortunately, I’d have to face the music alone. Sara had to work today. It was ok, though, I had to do this alone. Why I had to wear something this girly was beyond me, though. According to my sister, it was a cap sleeve dress---something she said I’d have to learn. It was white with tiny black polka dots, a black tie sash, and collar. The skirt went to my knees, very suitable for church. She had me pair it with some white stockings and heels. It was supposed to show everyone who I was and that I wasn’t afraid to be me now.
The me I wanted to be had to wear this dress.
It had its advantages I suppose.
I did look good in it at least.
Hey if I had to wear this then I better look good in it.
Ok, that sounds shallow but I needed shallow right now. After dealing with yesterday’s shitty friends, I needed shallow to make me feel better.
“You’re pretty, you look good and no one can make you feel bad today”
I nodded to myself in the mirror.
As if on cue, there was a knock on my door. I heard my mother’s voice a moment later, calling from my bedroom. Mom and I hadn’t spoken at all since the incident in the hospital. She was apparently doing what she did best---throwing herself into her work. We briefly crossed paths last night when she asked me if I was going to church. When I said I was, I got only the slightest of nods before she retired to her room to hide. If not working, she was always there. Hiding. To add to it was the fact that neither Mom nor Sara were speaking again. Mom seemed to blame Sara for what happened at the hospital. It was after all my sister who called my grandfather in. It had the desired effect at the time but I think Sara thought it would do more. I could tell she and Mom had words about it too. I could always tell when they fought and tried to hide it from me. There was this charge in the air whenever the two of them were in the same vicinity.
That charge was still lingering.
“What are you doing?”
Mom was now standing behind me, dressed for church. Her dress wasn’t all that different than mine actually except much more mature. It was strange how she dressed---like a grandma---when she was so young. I understood that it was church but even the Moms older than her didn’t dress like that.
“Just finishing up,” I said, taking one final look in the mirror.
“What on Earth are you wearing!”
I heard it in her tone. Anyone who wasn’t a zombie would be able to recognize that tone. I saw it on her face too. It was the look. The same one she gave me in the hospital. The same one from the office later too. It was a look that no mother should ever give her child. It was one of contempt but I wasn’t going to let it get to me. She’d made it very clear what she thought of me. I was just going to have to make it clear to her what I thought of her.
“What is it the wrong color?” I asked, feigning a frown.
I started to preen, knowing what it was going to do.
I wanted my mother to finally see. I wanted her to know. Chris was gone. I accepted it and she needed to as well.
“Get that off this instant!” she snapped.
She stormed into the room. She made a grab for me but stopped midway, probably second guessing her actions. After all, she was the one who used to pay for my martial arts lessons. Not that I’d ever hurt her. She was my mother after all, even if at the moment she was the biggest stranger in the world to me. I knew she was going to react badly to all of this but I never in a million years thought she’d treat me with such disdain and pure hatred. When we looked at one another I could tell she no longer saw me as anything but the abomination she thought I was.
I’d been a coward about it before too.
Hiding behind the doctors or even my grandfather.
And Sara.
Letting others fight for me.
No longer.
This was my fight. I needed to make her see that I was her daughter now and there was nothing anyone could do to change that.
“You think everyone at church would like it if I showed up in my underwear?”
“I think everyone in church---God included---would like it if you showed up as the boy you were born to be”
I scoffed. I wondered when God was going to come into this.
Now who was the coward?
“I think God knows I’m no longer a boy, Mom”
It was the wrong thing to say.
“Who are you to speak for God”
“Who are you to speak for him either!”
This time, she did go for me. She grabbed my arm, digging her nails into it. She dragged me out of Sara’s room, through our bathroom and back into mine. I was surprised by the gesture. My mother wasn’t a violent person. Sure she liked to yell and she carried a grudge like no one’s business. But I’d never seen her hit any of us. She and Sara got into some really nice ones, huge screaming matches but neither of them ever touched one another. Grabbing me now, Mom had escalated things to a whole new level. A dangerous threshold that once passed would never be able to be undone.
I think she realized it too.
She let me go as soon as we got into my room. It was a bit of a shove, causing me to stumble in my heels. Thankfully I caught the bed with my knees. After saving myself from disaster, I spun around, ready for a fight. Mom acted as if nothing happened. In fact, she was in my closet, looking through my clothes.
“Where are your good church clothes?”
She was rifling through my wardrobe. My new wardrobe, the one Sara and I had been building for the last week or so. I was proud of those clothes. It was strange the journey life had thrown at me. A few weeks ago, I was Chris, a fairly happy twelve-year-old boy without a care in the world well except for the whole slightly feminine thing. Now I was Christy, a well adjusted and very happy thirteen year old. Sure there were still bumps but I was learning to accept this life now. It was me and I was happy. The only one in the room that apparently wasn’t was my mother.
“I’m wearing my good church clothes,” I said defiantly.
“You’re wearing a dress and you look ridiculous” she snapped.
Had she finally lost her mind?
“What am I suppose to be wearing?”
“That nice button-down shirt and gray slacks you usually wear”
She had lost her mind.
“I can’t wear those anymore”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a girl”
Mom stopped looking through my closet. She turned around and looked at me. I think she really looked at me. I saw it too, the real her, at least for a moment. The chink in the armor was gone and my mother was staring back at me, at her daughter. It was gone in a flash, though, replaced by whoever it was that she was pretending to be
.
“I know what you think you are but it’s nonsense. You’re my son. I’ve let you have your little game, I let the hospital have their little game but now it’s over. You will find your good church clothes and tomorrow we’ll go to a different doctor. Then the barber shop. This delusion of yours is coming to an end”
“The only delusional one here is you!”
There I said.
“How dare you!”
She swung at me, ready to slap me but this time, I was prepared. I caught her wrist in midswing, surprising both of us I think. My mother wasn’t a strong woman but she always had this presence. Maybe it was because she was so tall and beautiful but she always felt so foreboding to me. Even when we had our disagreements in the past, I never really truly fought with her. She and I used to have a very good relationship. That is when she was actually around. She’d always been a little controlling and I always used to play the good son but something happened in the last few weeks. Not just to me either. She had changed as well too.
The woman I loved---the woman who gave birth to me---was like a stranger now.
A stranger who couldn’t stand to look at me.
A stranger who I suddenly realized I didn’t want to look at either.
“Why you little…” she started but never got to finish.
“No” I snapped. “I’m talking now. I’ve put up with your bullshit for too long. This is the real world lady. Things here work differently than the tiny world you seem to live in all by yourself. I’m not sure what happened to me or why it happened but I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life. No amount of prayer or ignorance or denial is going to change things. Your son is gone. Chris is gone. I couldn’t bring him back even if I wanted too. You and I are just going to have to live with that”
There I said my piece.
I felt pretty good about it too.
The look of shock on Mom’s face was priceless too.
I was the last one left. Now I was in defiance of her will too.
So be it.
“You’re not going to church with me dressed like that,” she said, standing her ground.
“Then have fun sitting by yourself”
I didn’t plan on it but now I didn’t really feel like going anyway. Not if I was going to be with her. My grandfather would understand. I’d call him later and tell him what happened. God would understand too. I’m pretty sure he knew what was going on and he was the forgiving kind. I’d make it up to both of them as soon as I could.
Mom thankfully didn’t wait around to say anymore.
She stormed out of my room like a spoiled child. Me, I sighed and dropped heavily to my bed.
Well, that could have gone better that’s for sure.
There was this little community park a few blocks from our house. Mom used to bring me there when I was little. Dad used to as well but of course, I don’t remember that. It was one of those urban parks, you know a large stretch of green in the middle of the neighborhood. In the case of this particular park, it had a path for pedestrians, about a dozen trees, a few picnic benches and of course a playground. It was usually crowded but on this particular Sunday morning, I pretty much had it all to myself. This suited me just fine because I really didn’t want the company.
Trying to distract myself from the November chill and my bitter anger, I watched the few occupants.
There was a mother with a couple of small kids. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five or so. I’d seen her here a few times before. This park was on the way to school. I passed by here most mornings actually. I never really did pay her much attention but today I couldn’t help but watch her. The kids were young, three or four maybe. Two little boys, I think they were twins because they looked alike. The little family was currently on the swings, the mother taking turns pushing each of her boys. A couple of weeks ago I never would have even stopped to look.
In fact, I usually just passed on by.
Today, though, there was just something about them that kept me transfixed.
Maybe it was my gender flip.
Or maybe I was just too self-absorbed before to care.
Whatever the reason now, I felt something for her.
Kindred spiritedness or something.
“Her name is Rachel,” said a voice as someone sat down on the bench next to me.
No, not someone, the other park occupant.
I knew him as well.
An older man, silver gray hair, expensive looking overcoat. I used to see him all the time too but not during the week on my way to school. Only on the weekends, on my way to and from soccer practice. If I had to guess he was a business man of some type, probably came out here before work or on his lunch break. He was rarely here during the afternoon, though. Every time I saw him he was either reading a newspaper or feeding the pigeons.
“Excuse me?’ I asked.
“The mother over there,” he said, setting his folded paper on the bench next to him. “Her name is Rachel, the two boys are Marcus and Jonathan. Their father is overseas. Every morning she brings them here, during the week her sister is with her and the two of them take turns watching the kids. On Sundays though her sister works so Rachel is all alone”
Wow.
“You must come here a lot to know all that,” I said, trying to be polite.
He nodded. “I like this park. It reminds me of the one I used to take my children too when they were small.”
“My parents used to bring me here too”
“So what brings you here today?” he asked “I usually don’t see you on Sundays. No practice?”
Wow, this guy seems to know it all.
Well, I guess that’s a given. He’s in this park every weekend so I guess he’s bound to notice things.
“Sunday is church usually”
“Not today?”
I shook my head. “I was going to go as you can see,” I said, waving my hand at the dress I was currently wearing. “My mother and I got into a fight.”
“A very determined woman your mother is,” he said, I looked at him like he was a nut which got him to chuckle. “I see her too from time to time. Most people don’t pay attention to the old man with the paper but he tends to see a lot. She sits over at that bench across the way. She drinks her morning coffee then gets in her car and goes to work.”
“I didn’t know that”
“So what was the fight about if you don’t mind me asking?”
I shrugged. “She’s stubborn. She doesn’t want to accept change even when it's staring her in the face. She can see it but she won’t admit it’s there”
“Change is a hard thing, especially for adults,” he said with a heavy sigh. “something happened to me a long time ago and I reacted badly to it I’m afraid. People involved were hurt and even after all these years, there isn’t a day that doesn’t go by that I don’t regret what I did”
I could see it on his face. There was anguish and remorse there. I felt bad for this man. Sadly I don’t think my mother would ever feel anything like that for me. She was so set in her stupid ways I don’t think she’d ever feel anything for me but hatred and loathing. Definitely never remorse or guilt over her actions toward me. I was just going to have to learn to accept that my mother would never warm up to me or come around. I still had Sara to fall back on. I still have Ken too I think. There was always my grandfather as well. My uncle too. Those were the people I would have to rely on the most now.
I did wonder something, though.
“Did you ever get a chance to make things right?”
I knew the answer before he said it.
I could see it on his face.
“Sadly no”
I wanted to hug him but of course, that was a bit unorthodox.
“That sucks”
He nodded. “Life has a way of doing that I’m afraid. I try to make up for it in other ways now. It might be too late but it helps”
“And it’s not too late for me…”
“I wouldn’t know honestly. I’m just striking up a conversation with a nice young lady on a park bench but if you want to know what I think” I nodded. “Well then, I think perhaps you give your mother some time to deal with this change then you try again. Keep trying if you have to in fact. There might be more fighting ahead for the two of you but I think eventually your mother will come to see that she’s wrong and finally accept things the way they are”
I smiled. Now I really wanted to hug him.
Hell, I felt like paying him a fee too.
I wonder how much you paid the park bench guy for sage advice these days?
So how do you follow up such sage wisdom?
You feed the birds.
That’s what we did. Park Bench Yoda had a paper bag full of bread crumbs and the two of us sat there silently scattering them on the ground until we ran out. We bid me farewell after that, having urgent business matters to attend too. I almost hugged him as I stood up to see him off. He gave me a slight smile then headed on his way. I watched him head across the street to a really nice silver BMW. There was a man in a suit waiting to open the door for him. Instead of getting into the driver’s seat, my Yoda got into the back.
Wow.
I waved goodbye a few moments later as the guard drove off.
As soon as the car was out of sight, I’d made up my mind on how I wanted to proceed with things. No, I’m not just talking about my mother either. Though I would have to deal with her eventually and soon if I wanted things to be better. I was thinking about everything. My former friends, my current friends, school, church, soccer. All of it needed to be addressed. My Park Bench Yoda was right. Change wasn’t something to run away from or ignore. I already knew that of course but now I just needed to convince other people of it too.
I think I knew where to start too.
First, though, I needed to go home and change.
The last thing I wanted was to start all of this in my church dress.
“Hey Amber,” I said into my cell as the cab came to a stop.
There was a grunt then a groggy groan of “Hey girl”
Clearly I’d woken up Miss Sunshine. I looked at the clock on my phone, it was only quarter to eleven. I was sure she would have been up now baking muffins for the needy or painting houses for squirrels or something. You know the things that perky girls like her like to do. I guess it kind of surprised me that she was lazy than I used to be on a Sunday.
“So I was thinking,” I said as I paid the cab and shut the door. “Is your offer still legit?”
“What offer?” she asked sleepily.
She really isn’t a morning person apparently.
‘The cheerleader one”
“OMG, yes!” she practically squealed into the phone.
Looks like you just need to say the magic word to wake Little Miss Amber up.
In this case, the word was cheerleader.
Amber went into overdrive after that, taking over our little conversation. She started to lay out the plan as it were. The weekends were devoted to cheer practice of course. The two squads practiced separately on Saturdays but on Sundays, she brought together a little impromptu group of both. It wasn’t a regular thing but whenever she felt that both squads needed a pick me up, she put it together. Both the coaches pretty much let her do her thing apparently. As it was, she really wanted to get me out to start my training. Amber was a keen little Cheer maniac. She started rambling off everything she wanted to accomplish, the ultimate goal was to turn me into a little Cheer Queen.
“You know if you do this, you’re turning me into a weapon for the enemy?”
She laughed. “Consider yourself Natasha Romanoff”
Wait what?
“Ummm…”
Holy crap, who would have thought.
‘Hey, I read comics. Of course, if you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you”
Amber had Geek Cred.
“You’re full of surprises Amber,” I said with a laugh.
“And don’t you forget it”
I hung up after that.
Amber and her group weren’t going to be at the school for another hour at least. I cursed for getting here so early. I guess it would give me some time to tour the old place. Like I said before, I’d been here before. Of course, that was during games and I didn’t really get to explore the campus all that much. It being a Sunday though, most of it was all locked down. Several of the gates were closed and required key cards. I did find a sympathetic security guard who was nice enough to let me into the courtyard, though.
I found myself a good spot on the bench in front of the large statue.
Good ole Huntington the first or whatever.
Charles was his name.
My grandfather was like Charles the fifth or something now.
I didn’t really know much about it, to be honest.
According to the plaque in front of the bronze statue, the house was built in the 1870s and the statue was erected in the 1950s after the completion of the school.
Glaring up at my ancestor, I tried to see if I could see any family resemblance but of course I couldn’t.
It was a statue after all.
Waiting made me nervous too. I couldn’t help but second guess things too. Here I was about to take a really huge plunge into the world of girl. This morning it was the dress and now it was cheerleader. Two weeks ago, I would have laughed my ass off if anyone told me I’d be here right now. I’m not even sure why I was here, to be honest. I didn’t really want to be a cheerleader truth be told but it was better than nothing at the moment. After all, I knew there was no way I could show my face on the soccer field again. Not that I had anything against girls soccer, far from it in fact but I just didn’t want to feel cheated. I would keep on wondering about “What If’s” and I would just get depressed about the whole thing.
So soccer was gone.
It hurt but it had to be.
Cheerleading might be the right outlet. It wasn’t like I was completely foreign to the concept. Thanks to my martial arts, I was flexible. If it didn’t work out, there were other avenues to explore as well. The girls had suggested gymnastics at the last practice. Cindy had even suggested I try ballet. Then again she was probably just trying to land another student or something. I’m not sure ballet is the right fit for me, though, after all, Becky took ballet too. I’m not sure how she’d react to that.
Hefting my borrowed sports bag, I checked my phone.
Amber said she’d be arriving at noon.
I still had about ten more minutes.
Getting thirsty, I scoured the bag looking for my sports bottle. It was the very same one I used for soccer. I’m not sure how I got it back, though. Last I knew, it was in the locker room with the rest of my stuff. Stuff I left there last weekend after I collapsed and ended up in the hospital. It was the only thing of mine that had lasted from my old sports stuff, though. My practice gear from soccer didn’t exactly fit anymore. So before taking a cab here, I took one to a favorite sporting goods store of mine on the strip where I used to buy my soccer stuff. The woman there was nice enough and helped me find some yoga capris and a stretchy lycra tank top. Apparently it was an outfit that most cheerleaders practiced in.
Looking at both items in my bag made a wave of dread pass over me.
I was not looking forward to wearing either in front of a bunch of strangers.
A part of me definitely wanted to run but the other part…
Yep, Just Roll With It.
“Hey” shouted a familiar voice.
I looked up from rifling through my bag to see Amber come toward me, hefting a sports bag of her own. I was in mid-wave when I noticed she wasn’t alone. I was expecting her to not be alone. I was not, however, expecting it to be my former soccer teammate Marcus. He was walking a few paces behind her, hands in his coat pockets. He clearly didn’t want to be here.
Me, my heart was pounding a mile a minute.
I knew I was going to face these guys eventually but I just wasn’t prepared for it.
Part of me was afraid of the reaction.
I didn’t want another Greg incident.
Especially now, here, without Sam to come to my rescue.
As they got closer, my anxiousness increased.
Marcus was looking right at me now. It was a look of confused recognition. As he got closer, though, I saw it on his face:
He knew.
“Hey,” I said, zipping up the bag.
‘Hey,” he returned.
Marcus was always of very few words, except on the field or the locker room.
“So I told Marc about things…you know the whole medical condition…”
“Look, it’s weird but I’m not freaked. No offense Pixie, but you haven’t always been the biggest, manliest man out there”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to argue with that.
“What I wanted to really say” he continued “is that I’m ok with it. I heard about what happened with Greg yesterday. I want you to know that if he pulls any of that shit again, especially on the field, we’re gonna kick his ass afterward”
Greg, so John must have told him.
I guess that was fair.
Wait…he did he say field?
“Marc, I’m not going back to soccer,” I said, deciding to make my stand. “Its just too weird you know. I’m gonna talk to coach about it tomorrow or some time very soon. I know I can’t play with you guys anymore and frankly, it just wouldn’t feel right being on the girls team you know?”
He nodded. “I figured, I just thought maybe…”
Whatever Marcus was going to say got interrupted by some commotion behind him. We all turned to look and saw several more people coming this way. All girls, of course, all of them carrying the purple Huntington cheer bags. I counted six altogether, two of them I knew. Cindy was leading the pack, following shortly behind was a slender black girl and cute red head with freckles. They all appeared to be about the same age, so I’m guessing they were Varsity. The three girls behind them were my age. Amongst them, of course, was Hannah, my cousin twin. To be honest now, though, there were definitely some differences between us.
I decided really see it until she got closer.
Our hair was a different shade now, hers much darker. She wasn’t as curvy as me either. Not that I’m fat or anything but Hannah has always been this little thin thing. I was also taller than her I noticed. So I guess I really had grown more than I thought. Score one for the combination of my parents’ genes.
With her were two girls talking animatedly with each other. One was blonde, her hair nearly white. She was really pretty and I could tell the guys most of really loved her because the Boob Fairy was very kind. The other girl had long straight jet black hair. She was definitely part Asian, I could see it in her features.
All of them stopped a few feet in front of me.
Hannah and I locked eyes.
She gave me a confused look then her mouth dropped slightly.
I smiled softly.
“Hey cuz,” I said with a playful smirk.
“Holy…” she said as she stepped forward, giving me a big hug.
‘Guys” said Amber, drawing everyone’s attention. “This is Christy Ryder and before you think there’s some kind of freaky cloning experiment conspiracy going on, she’s Hannah’s cousin. Christy is going to be joining us for practice tonight. Cindy and I have decided to turn her into a cheerleader”
There was a quick round of intros.
The black girl was Tanisha, her red-headed teammate was Molly.
Pretty blonde JV girl was Debbie, her dark haired Asian friend was Regan.
After the intros, Amber led us to the locker room. That was my second challenge of the day I realized. I was a little nervous before going in. I mean I used to be a boy. I wasn’t exactly sure I belonged in there. The reassurance though came in the form of Hannah, who grabbed my hand. Together the two of us went inside. I let out a big sigh when the floor didn’t open up and swallow me whole. I was surprised that locker room was pretty much the same as the guys. Well almost anyway. The tiles were a peach color for instance and it didn’t smell. The lockers were a lot cleaner too and all of them still had their doors. The biggest difference was how clean the place felt. The garbage cans weren’t overflowing with crap and there was no lude graffiti all over the walls. Even if this was a prep school, I was willing to bet that the boy’s locker room was a pig sty.
Hannah found me an empty locker next to hers.
I was surprised she was taking everything so well.
I decided to get dressed as fast as possible. I kept my eyes forward as I pulled my shirt over my head as quick as possible. I had briefly gone home after leaving the park this morning if only to change out of the dress and into some normal clothes. Well jeans and t-shirt, normal attire for me that is. In choosing a bra, I decided to just go with a sports bra already considering where I was going. I couldn’t help but notice earlier though that my little booblets were getting bigger. Not huge like Debbie’s but they were definitely growing. Emily did say that there might be some more changes as my body settled. She did say it was common though for girls who were going through puberty which is what I was now. My boobs would grow, my fat would shift and I would get taller.
I definitely liked that last part.
I took a quick peek around the room and couldn’t help but smile when I noticed I was the tallest girl here.
“I was at the hospital you know,” said Hannah as the two of us were just finishing up our dressing, i.e. lacing up our shoes. “You were sleeping at the time so you didn’t notice but Mom brought Claire and me”
I was glad for that.
“Thanks,” I said and meant it.
‘Is it true though?” she asked, lowering her voice. ‘They really have no idea what caused it?”
So apparently Hannah was in on the secret.
I nodded. “One day I was me and then the next I started becoming she”
I almost giggled at the stupid joke.
It was the last joke for the next couple of hours.
I think I mentioned how I thought Amber was a Slave Driver. Well, I was wrong. She was Darth Vader in a sports bra. I have never worked so hard in my life. After leaving the locker room, Amber ran us through the paces. First, it was a couple laps around the track then it was the typical warm up exercises. That was the easy part of it all. The grueling stuff came with the actual cheer moves. I thought I was pretty limber and flexible but I was dead wrong. I didn’t even know a human body could move the way she had us moving. I did learn something about myself, though. I could now do a full split, something I knew I couldn’t do before. After the moves, it was the cheers. There had to be twenty or so of them and she made us do them over and over again. She kept saying she was doing it for my benefit which after the tenth time got everyone---including Hannah---glaring at me.
When we finally hit the showers, I was exhausted that showering with a bunch of other girls didn’t even make me bat an eye.
“You did good today,” said Amber just as I was finishing getting back into my civvies.
I grunted. “You’re a bad person”
She laughed. “I had to make sure you had what it takes and I’m happy to say that you passed. Next Saturday I want you here with the others bright and early. I was telling the coach about you the other day. I know you don’t go to this school but she was really interested in your potential. Who knows, she might be able to put in a good word at Prescott if you’re interested?’
You know what, I actually was.
“Can I think about it?”
“‘No rush,” she said then walked off.
A moment later, Hannah dropped down onto the bench next to me, cell in hand.
“Ok so good news and bad news”
Uh oh.
“The bad first”
Like a band-aid.
“So I just got off the phone with Sara. Your mother is in quite a mood. Your defiance of her this morning really sent her off the deep end. I guess she made a bit of a scene at church then at work later. She’s been suspended. It's only for a few days but Sara thinks it might not be such a smart idea going home right now”
Great, just great.
“So now I’m homeless”
I actually felt like crying.
Hannah smiled big. “Not homeless per se. How about an extended sleepover for a few days?”
I think I was floored.
I’d never actually been to Hannah’s before, well at least not alone.
Mom didn’t like us spending a lot of time with the Huntington’s. Even though Hannah wasn’t technically one, at least in name, she was still in blood. She was also “a part of that world” as mom called it. Mom didn’t mind us socially at get togethers---birthdays, holidays---that type of thing but never outside of that. She was afraid they’d rub off on us and make us snobs. It was kind of funny really because Mark and Tracy---Hannah’s parents---weren’t all that dissimilar to us. Mark was a history professor after all. Tracy was a sales rep. They didn’t make loads of cash or anything. In fact, Mark wasn’t even Great Aunt Gloria’s oldest child. So he wasn’t going to inherit half a fortune.
They were normal people.
Like us.
If anything, Mom was the snob.
Still I couldn’t help but smile at how pissed off Mom was going to be when she found out I was going to be spending a few days over at the Greene’s.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Just Keep Rolling
Part Four by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Here's Ch.4. I decided to go ahead and publish it after all. Like I said in my blog though, this is the last fully written chapter of the story I have at the moment :(. I'm currently working on ch.5 and hope to have it done by the end of the week, however, I probably won't post it until I have at least Ch.7 or 8 done. So expect a week or two without any new chapters of this story. I didn't want to do this but real life interfered sadly and I haven't had a lot of time to write :(. Thanks for reading and hopefully understanding lol.
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4:
Unlike the rest of the Huntington’s, the Greenes didn’t actually live in Green Valley. Though still very well off, I guess they didn’t quite meet the standards of the gated community lifestyle. Instead, they lived in a newer suburb development toward the end of town. Built around ten years ago or so, Prescott Acres was actually one of those buy a plot and build a house type of developments. So even though the first house might have gone done ten years ago, its neighbor might have only been a few months old. It was just how things that seemed to work.
Looking out the window as we pulled into the development, I grimaced.
It was hard not to.
Sure our house was a pretty decent size but it didn’t compare to the neo-eclectic McMansions that dotted both sides of the street. These things were massive, most with multiple rooms and at least three car garages. The further in the winding road went I knew they got bigger. The last time I visited, Hannah had taken me to one of her favorite places. The end of the development actually opened up into a little-wooded area surrounding a fairly decent sized lake. Being a bit of a tomboy like Kate, Hannah said she used to spend quite a lot of time there fishing and catching frogs.
I still found it hard to believe anyone had ever talked her into becoming a cheerleader.
Up until I was ten, in fact, I thought she was a boy.
The car finally came to a stop in their driveway. I looked up at the house and sighed. This was going to be my home for the next few whatever. I say whatever because no one really knew how long I was going to be here. Apparently Sara had been working on this little solution long before I had my blow out with Mom this morning. My sister truly was a wonder. She just seemed to have one plan after another, all of them in place to help me. After the plan with my grandfather sadly fell through, this one seemed to present itself. Sara had made all the arrangements. I was to stay with the Greene until she could either convince my mother she was being crazy or find a more permanent solution to my problem.
Getting an apartment in the city was even mentioned.
I didn’t like that idea in the least, though. It conflicted with Sara’s plans. She was supposed to be going to college next year, not staying home to take care of me. She’d already sacrificed enough of her life worrying about me. I wanted her to be happy for once and do her own thing. I planned on telling her that too as soon as I could get her on the phone for more than a minute or two.
Like I said, very busy.
“This is going to be so great,” said Hannah enthusiastically grabbing my hand and giving it a good squeeze.
“Yeah great” I lied but not too convincingly.
Hannah frowned. “You sure you’re ok?”
No.
‘Yeah” I lied again, ‘just a lot to get used too”
She nodded. I could tell she didn’t believe me but she didn’t pursue the matter.
Instead, she got out of the Lexus, I followed.
No matter how many times I saw this house, I was always amazed at the size of it. It was like the rest of the houses on the block, oversized, overpriced and way too big for a family of four. I keep on forgetting Hannah had a little brother. Not that my cousin Davey was unforgettable but he was only five so it was hard to remember. He was also really shy, he didn’t do well with strangers. The fact that he barely knew me didn’t help things either. I only saw the Greene’s made four times a year at the most. Davey spent most of that time clinging to his mother’s side. It was no surprise that he didn’t show up at my birthday last week either, I hadn’t expected him too.
Still, though, you could probably fit our entire house in the front yard of this place.
Ok so I was exaggerating slightly but not by much.
Mark and Tracy didn’t make much more than Mom actually. I’m not sure how much they made but it was more than enough to live here apparently. I overheard Mom complaining about it once actually. She was prone to do that from time to time. Not that she had anything against my father’s cousins, she barely knew them after all. They were Huntington's’ though and that was enough for her. That’s how I knew though that Aunt Gloria had actually paid for this place. Mark and Tracy paid the bills but the house had been fully on her. It made me wish that my grandparents had at least one generous bone in their bodies but apparently not.
“You girls good?” asked Cousin Mark as he took my bags out of the trunk.
I nodded as he handed them to me.
“We’re good Daddy, you’re free to leave”
He smiled, kissed her on the forehead then got back into his vehicle.
Mark had a little get together with some college friends every weekend. One that I made him late for because we had to swing by home after the practice. Tracy and Sara both insisted I get a few days worth of things packed just in case. Thankfully Mom wasn’t home when we got there. Sara had made sure the doors were unlocked before she went to work. Hannah had helped me pack then we made tracks as quick as possible.
The last thing either of us needed was a run in with Mom.
Tracy met us at the front door, a big warm smile on her face.
Before I could say anything, she pulled me into a hug.
Tracy was just shy of her fortieth birthday but she definitely didn’t look it. Maybe a few age lines and some gray hairs but that could easily be chalked up to stress and not age. Unlike her husband the professor, she did work for MerTech. All I really knew was that she was a sales rep. I’m not sure if that meant she went door to door or if she was someone in an office somewhere. Given the size of the house and that I knew there were at least two BMWs in the garage I’m shooting for the latter. She was blonde like Hannah but unlike her daughters, it was more strawberry blonde. Whereas I mentioned Hannah having a darker shade of blonde than me, her older sister Claire’s hair could hardly be considered blonde at all actually, maybe a very light shade of brown.
Davey took after his father.
“Now let me take a look at you,” said Tracy as she took a step back from the hug. “Wow, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were Hannah’s twin”
“I know Mom, isn’t it creepy”
We weren’t one hundred percent alike of course. Her nose was a little narrower and her lips a bit thinner. Her skin was a lot tanner than mine too but only because she spent a lot of time outdoors. When not cheerleading, Hannah was also in track and field. The biggest difference about the two of us though had to be height. Hannah was barely five three whereas I was almost five seven now. I was still amazed about that part. Only a few weeks ago I was a shrimp and now look at me.
Of course, I was a guy back then too.
“Come along Christy honey,” said Tracy, taking to my new name just as quick as her daughter. “I’ve just finished setting up the guest room for you”
She led the way into the house and I tried not to look like a fish in its bowl.
Like most of the houses on the block, it had an open floor plan. Lots of open space and high ceilings. There were five bedrooms and three and a half baths. Little Davey got the half while---like Sara and me---Hannah shared hers with her sister. The guest room was the only room on the ground floor apparently, right next door to the guest bathroom. I also noticed it was across from the kitchen too. It was also apparently the smallest room in the house not that I would have noticed. It was definitely bigger than mine.
“I’m sorry about the size of it,” said Tracy from the doorway as I stepped inside. “It’s a little plain too. If you want, Mark can take you out to the galleria after his outing, we can…”
“Its great, better than great actually,” I said and meant it.
To be honest, I’d been feeling a little out of place in my room the last few days.
Not that there was anything wrong with it, it just didn’t feel like me anymore.
“I’ll give you some time to get situated. When you’re ready, Hannah is in the den”
I thanked her as she left.
I dropped my bag on the bed and took a look at the room. Like the rest of the house, it was pretty spacious. It was sparsely decorated, though. There was a simple dresser against the far wall, a queen size bed in the center and a desk on the opposite wall. The room was painted in neutral colors and had a warm, welcoming feeling. It also had a rather large window that looked out onto the back yard I noticed. I took a moment to take in that view and was always amazed by it. Each of the houses here seemed to have half an acre or more of land. The Greene’s were no different, though a good portion of their yard was taken up by the large in-ground pool and jungle gym. In the far corner of it was the tool shed.
We had one of those too. Like Mark, my father used to spend any time he could out there. Unlike Mark, my Dad being an engineer exactly had a good idea what he was doing with his tinkering.
I finished putting my clothes away in a few minutes, after all, I only packed for a couple of days. I hoped I wouldn’t be here that long. I’m not sure what the actual plan was but I wanted to go home. I knew my mother was the problem but I also knew that I still loved her. She might not be the best person for me right now but somewhere inside of her she knew she still loved me too. I was just going to have to wait it out and hope she finally came to her senses. I saw the love there, it was the slight ways she kept looking at me. I’m not sure what was holding her back from it but I knew my real mother was pressing against the outlines of this monster that that man created.
“Wow,” said a familiar snarky voice from behind me. “They gave you the good room”
I smiled big and turned around, finding Kate leaning in the doorway.
I gave her a big hug and emotions took over.
She held me while I cried.
“Hey Princess, you’re getting makeup all over my shirt”
I laughed, pulling away and wiping my face.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see her.
She feigned being hurt. “What you’re the only one who can come to this palace?”
I gave her a playful shove.
“I just thought…well never mind, I’m glad to see you. I’ve been having a shitty day”
She gave me another hug. “That’s what Sara said when she kidnapped me”
“Remind me to thank her”
“Remind me to shank her”
We both laughed. After this morning, I needed a good laugh.
It was at that moment, I noticed a similar looking bag at her feet.
“What’s with the backpack?”
She sighed heavily. “I’ve been roped into something you locals call a slumber party”
I gave her an even bigger hug after that.
“Ok girls I’m going to trust you on this today and tonight,” said Tracy, giving all of us the talk as it were.
We all nodded like we were listening.
“I know Christy doesn’t have school tomorrow but Hannah and Katie do, so the three of you need to keep this low key and early. No staying up past ten o’clock and nothing too wild. Don’t forget that Christy has an important meeting tomorrow, one she needs to be alert for”
“Oh, c’mon mom,” said a newly arrived Claire.
She was dressed in her dance practice gear, having apparently just come from ballet class. She looked pretty stylish in her gray warm-ups over her white leotard, the tard only exposed because her top was midriff. Her hair was still pulled up in the characteristic ballerina bun, though. Like Cindy, Claire was also a junior instructor at Madame Gertrude’s. Unlike Cindy though, Claire apparently had a class to teach today.
“Since you decided to have an opinion on it, I’m putting you in charge”
Claire looked like she was about to protest when her eyes fell on me. This was the first time we’d seen each other since my birthday party. Like Hannah, her eyes seemed to pop out of her head. I mean at the party I was already pretty damn girly but of course, now I was full blown. I couldn’t help but smile at her look. She smiled too, which slowly turned into this mischievous look. I didn’t like that look. Sara used to get that look whenever she was going to do something to me.
“Sure Mom,” she said slyly. “I’d love to!”
Tracy left us to it. When she was gone, Claire walked over to me and pulled me into a warm, welcoming hug.
“Welcome to the better sex, little cuz”
Claire was a little hard to get used too. She came on strong in everything she did. She meant well of course but she was the kind of girl that knew what she liked. She was also the kind of girl that knew what you were supposed to like too. I’m not saying she forced it upon you or anything but she was very convincing. I couldn’t remember a Christmas where she couldn’t talk us all into doing something crazy. One Christmas, she talked us all into having a snowball fight barefoot. Last year at her Sweet Sixteen party, she insisted everyone---including the guys---wear an article of pink. My uncles got away with a pink tie or pocket handkerchief. Tom and I actually had to wear pink shirts. It was really embarrassing.
So of course to Claire, I was now the better sex.
Not that I was complaining.
Thanks to people like Tom and Greg, I was beginning to think she was right.
“Claire, you’re smothering her,” said Hannah, pulling me out of her sister’s embrace.
Claire laughed and stared. “Its just so fucking amazing”
“Try living it”
“I’ll bet”
She asked a few questions then seemed to get bored with it.
That was another one of her quirks.
I didn’t mind though because frankly I was getting a little tired of explaining it. Of course, I knew there would be plenty more explanations in my future but at least I had the whole “medical screw up” lie to fall back onto. My family knew the truth. I’m sure some of them probably thought it was my fault like Mom and Dr. Bashir. I was just glad that the Greene’s seem to accept the truth. I just knew how Tom was going to react to all of this. My uncles were a different matter. John was pretty cool, I think he suspected something was up at my party actually. I’m not sure about Chris though. We were never really close, to be honest. Maybe I reminded him too much of my father?
“Ok now,” said Claire, taking charge like usual. “Why don’t you girls get in your jammies, I’ll go get changed into mine and we can get this party really started”
I looked at Kate who was rolling her eyes.
I couldn’t help but smirk.
Claire was going to love trying to get Kate to do things.
It was a disaster waiting to happen.
As soon as Claire was gone, Hannah made a bolt for the stairs, leaving Kate and me alone.
She sighed heavily. “Is she for real?”
I read her mind. “Claire?” She nodded and I laughed. “She’s a force to be reckoned with”
‘Ok if she tries to assimilate me, I want a mercy killing”
We shook on it.
After that, we dropped onto the couch. I took that chance to look around the Greene’s den. Not much had really changed since I’d been here last. They still had the giant sectional, though this one appeared to be new. It had one end that seemed to form a bed which was cool. There was still the wall of DVDs and BluRays, they still had the giant flatscreen too. The focal of the room though was the dance wall. One whole wall in the room was one of those ballet mirrors, complete with bar and everything. I knew from experience that there were mats and things like that in the closet. Claire had been a ballerina since she was real little. I vaguely remember going to a dance recital of hers once, back before my father died.
‘This place is crazy” said Kate, having finished looking around the room as well.
I shrugged. ‘Claire is a dancer, it makes sense her family would do this”
Kate shook her head. “I meant this whole house. I mean, is this how the other half lives?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said softly.
Ok, so I was envious. I was also a little pissed.
This could have been my life.
I’m not saying I really wanted to be rich but when you knew you could have been, it kind of sucked. Sure my Dad wasn’t a peasant by any means but this life---Hannah’s life---something like it could have been possible. Sure I probably wouldn’t have gone to Huntington but I would have at least had a better relationship with Dad’s family. I knew probably never with my grandparents but definitely with my cousins, at least more than a few times a year.
Kate seemed to sense something was wrong because she hugged me.
“Oh hug time,” said Hannah as she ran into the room, jumping on the couch.
She wrapped her arms around the both of us, squeezing tight.
I couldn’t help but notice Kate flush a bright red.
A moment later, Hannah realized what she was doing because she flushed too and ended the hug rather quickly.
Awkwardness hung in the room until Claire arrived.
Claire kicked the slumber party into full swing after that.
She started with the stupid games. I mean she didn’t want to go all out just yet because it was still light outside. She did get us into a rather interesting game of Truth or Dare, though. We didn’t get too crazy with it, though. She did dare Kate into wearing one of her outfits to school tomorrow, though. Kate got her back with a dare to get a tattoo on her butt. I was surprised when both agreed to it, especially since a tattoo was something permanent. Too permanent we found out a minute later when Claire said it would have to be washable because it was frowned upon in both cheerleading and ballet.
I think Claire had an ulterior motive with the truth or dare, though.
It didn’t take her long to dare Kate and Hannah to kiss.
I noticed her mischievous smile again.
I was happy to see that I wasn’t the only one who noticed what my friend and cousin did not.
I watched with half amusement and half embarrassment as the two of them pecked one another on the lips. I half expected a little more but it was clear they were holding back for our sakes. I saw it, though, that little spark. As soon as their lips touched, you could see how much the two of them liked one another. I was happy for both of them but especially for Kate. Maybe this would finally help her get over Chloe.
My embarrassment came a few moments later.
It was Hannah’s turn to ask.
“So Christy, truth or dare?”
Crap.
“Truth” I blurted out quickly before I could think.
Well, I didn’t want dare either.
Hannah smiled wickedly. “so now that you’re a girl, do you like boys?”
Damn her.
“Oh she most definitely does,” said Kate, smiling just as wickedly.
This got Claire to raise an eyebrow.
“Well then,” said my cousin “my truth to you is this: who do you like?”
Double damn her.
I felt my cheeks start to burn so I just knew I was turning red. I also knew I would have to answer soon because of the looks all three of them were currently giving. Thinking about it didn’t take long actually. I knew who I liked and there was no denying it now. Whenever I thought about boys, his face always seemed to come into my mind. Anyone who was at my birthday seemed to know it too. I didn’t realize it at the time but lots of others did, including my mother.
“Dan” I mumbled.
“What was that?” asked Kate with a smile. “We can’t hear you!”
Damn her too.
“Dan,” I said louder and they all laughed.
Great, laugh at my expense.
And laugh they did.
I got Kate back a moment later when I dared her to wear her Halloween costume---wig and all---to school the day after she was dressing like Claire.
Truth or Dare ended there with us three younger girls embarrassed as all hell. Surprisingly, Claire got by unscathed. Not that we didn’t try of course but nothing seemed to get to her. She was like a rock which only made us try harder. The game became a real bonding experience believe it or not. All our dares were silly and stupid and the truths helped us bond. I was finally beginning to understand some of this girl stuff I saw in movies and things. Guys were close in a way but they didn’t really share things like girls did. I mean real things like their feelings. I felt closer to Kate than ever before and I was learning things about my cousins I definitely didn’t know before.
They revealed things to me, some of them very intimate.
None of which would have been revealed to Chris the boy.
I was fully accepted.
I was happy for that.
After Truth or Dare finally wound down, we moved onto other stupid party games not even worth mentioning.
Makeovers were after that, though.
The thing I dreaded the most actually.
I was surprised to have fun with it, though.
Claire and Hannah were skilled in all things makeup apparently. They were much better than my sister and Cindy even. Claire was especially good, telling me Telling me what product worked with my skin tone and all that. It helped that she worked part time at the makeup counter in the Galleria. See, I didn’t even know that. After helping me, she tried to do the same for Kate. Like Cindy before her, though, Claire had failed to break through Kate’s punk armor. She was dead set on her look. It actually worked for her though too. Hannah didn’t seem to mind it one bit either so that was a plus. With that in mind, though, Claire was able to give Kate some tips on how to better perfect it.
My friend ate it up.
After the makeovers was dinner. Pizza of course. The Greene’s knew the right place because it was from Leo’s. Mark and Davey joined us for dinner.
“Hey Davey,” I said, smiling at my younger cousin as I took a seat across from him.
The kid gave me the strangest look.
“Do I know you?”
“Of course, you do sweetie,” said his mother “this is your cousin Christy. You see her every year for Christmas”
Davey squinted his eyes. “You used to be a boy I think?”
Everyone at the table, including me, laughed.
“Not anymore”
Davey shrugged. “Ok”
Kids were so cool like that.
Tracy then went on to explain to Davey that I’d be spending a few days here. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least. Like I said kids were just cool like that. Davey did have a few questions and we all answered them the best we could. I guess it was decided that we tell Davey the lie. I think his parents probably decided he was too young to understand what really happened. Not only that it might have been a little scary for a kid his age too. I didn’t want him thinking that he could turn into a girl one day just because. I hoped he couldn’t anyway. I also hoped that whatever this was that it wasn’t contagious. I was ok with all of this now but I didn’t want our school becoming an All Girl’s School suddenly.
Though it might be a riot to see Greg turn into a girl just to take him down a peg or two.
John on the other hand. As tall as he was, he’d probably become someone supermodel looking girl and I’d hate her.
I smirked.
“Something funny?” asked Kate, who was sitting next to me.
“Just thinking about a girl version of Greg and John”
She snorted. “Can you imagine Greg?” We laughed together. “And John, God I would kill her. Or maybe kiss her. She would be hot”
I made a mental note not to tell John that.
If he knew Kate might have a thing for girl him, he’d find every possible way to get a sex change just to be with her.
The rest of dinner was pretty quiet. Afterward, Claire left because she had to work. The rest of us girls returned to the den. Hannah decided it was now immersion time. So she pulled from the movie shelf every chick flick she could find. Kate and I groaned at a lot of them. Surprisingly, though, I found myself enjoying quite a few of them. I especially liked the Josh-What’s-His-Face movies. They were from a few years ago but they were still pretty good. It was back when he was a teenager still, not like now. I even saw Kate tear up at one of the films.
She and Hannah also made it clear that their embarrassment about being seen together was over. They were sitting very close on the couch, so close that Kate was almost on her lap. It was kind of cute. I couldn’t help but feel happy for the two of them too. I felt a pang of envy too, wondering if I even had a chance with Dan. I mean he knew me before as Chris. It would probably be way too weird for him. I tried to force the thoughts out of my head and enjoy the movies.
Tomorrow I would worry about those things.
Tonight I was with my friends.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Ok so I'm back again and with something new as promised. I'm told this story is a little different than the ones I've written so far so I guess you guys are going to need to bear with me for a bit until I get this thing going. I hope to get back to the DRU as soon as I can but until then I hope you enjoy this fun little tangent of mine. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my beta readers for their great help.
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1:
There was another car, I think that was four now. Four in the last five minutes. I didn’t really know Crystal all that well, but apparently a lot of other people did. It was strange to say you didn’t know someone, especially considering I used to see her every day. Used to being the key word. Young people die all the time but I’ve never actually known one of them. It doesn’t happen as often either. At least not in the small burgs like ours. In the big cities, sure but not around here. It was kind of sad when you stopped to think about her life being cut so short like that. In a car accident too. I still couldn’t believe how something like that was even possible. The mag rails were fully automated; the cars driving them were completely controlled by the system. There weren’t supposed to be any accidents.
I sighed, rubbing my eyes. There were no tears, why wasn’t I crying.
Looking out my window at the Sanderson’s house around the street, everyone there had been crying. Even the couple that was getting out of the most recent arrival. These people were strangers to me and yet they had more emotion than I did. Sure, I didn’t know Crystal as well as I should have, but I should have at least cried for her, right? Her sister Maddie was in my class, I should have been crying for her sake, too. The two of them had been close. Real close I think. I used to remember them playing in the yard when they were younger. They looked so happy then. That was before their older brother Ryan manifested though. Families always seemed to be strained after that. It got worse when Ryan went to live in the Cube with the others and his family decided to stay behind.
It wasn’t that uncommon of course, but I couldn’t imagine why anyone would refuse The Cube.
I tried not to think about it though.
I tried to pull away from the window too, but I just couldn’t. People fascinated me a little bit. It’s not like I wasn’t a people person, sure I liked them but I tried to avoid them whenever I could. There was just something about them that intrigued me. I liked watching behavior, the way certain people reacted to certain things. Mom always said I’d make a great scientist like her because of it. I wasn’t going to be like her though. Not that I thought there was anything wrong with Communication but I wanted to be a Sentinel. I’m sure every guy my age did but some part of me wanted it more than the rest. Sentinels were the only other people besides the Alphas and their families who got to live in The Cube. I wanted it more than anything else in the world.
Another car pulled up to the house. That makes five.
I almost lost interest after that but a moment later, a sixth car arrived. This one piqued my interest a lot though. It was a white Saber, no wheels, retrofitted with grade C hovers. State of the art tech---Dad helped manufacture some of it. It wasn’t the car that interested me though, it was the occupants. As soon as the door opened, I recognized the overly beautiful woman who stepped out. Long legs, gorgeous flowing blonde hair. Tall, beautiful and in total control of every situation----that was what Ms. Scott strived for. She looked just as perfect as ever in her tiny little black dress, not even a wrinkle. Of course she was perfect though, she was an Alpha, a Super Venus, some called her.
I didn’t disagree.
I just didn’t realize she knew the Sanderson’s though.
I tried to lose interest but I just couldn’t especially when the passenger door opened and Teddy slid out. He was my best friend. It was just hard to imagine that he was anything at all related to his mother. Here she was this tall, gorgeous Goddess and Teddy, well he was anything but. Short and far, the only way you could tell they were even related was because they shared the same hair color. Strangely, though, his mother’s seemed to be shinier. She walked around the car, her long legs elegantly moving with the grace of an angel. Teddy fell in behind her, his head low, his shoulders slouched. I knew what he was thinking because he grumbled about it every time he went anywhere with her---he despised his mother. He hated everything she stood for.
She was an Alpha and he was not. She apparently made that very clear to him as well. I felt bad for him. It wasn’t unheard of for Alphas to slum with us lower people, even have children with us. The Alphas frowned upon it of course. It was beneath them to be seen with us. It’s why they all lived in The Cube. It’s why there were Cubes all over the world. At first, they were meant to protect them from us. Back when the Alphas first started manifesting, us normal people didn’t understand. There was a lot of bad blood. Some real bloodshed, too. The government came up with The Cubes to protect them and then the Sentinels to protect us. After the years though, it became less a refuge and more like a standard of living for them.
I continued to watch my friend as he trailed slowly behind his scene-stealing mother.
When they got to the front door, she hugged a weeping Mrs. Sanderson. Then the two of them disappeared into the house like everyone else. A second later, I heard a pip in my ear. I nearly jumped out of my chair. I cursed, tapping the small device just below my left earlobe. A moment later, I heard the recording, “Can you snipe me from that window please?” It was from Ted. I looked but of course, he was already inside now. I was just surprised that he was able to see from all the way across the street. I couldn’t help but wonder if his mother let him finally get that thermal upgrade to his Bio he’d been bugging her about.
It was the same one I’d been bugging my parents about too but to no avail.
“Bio’s aren’t toys, Ben,” my Dad reminded me every time I asked.
A moment later, another pip. Again from Ted. “Maddie looks really upset. I didn’t realize she and Crystal were close anymore?”
Ted and Maddie had been friends since grade school. Their Dads worked the Tunnels together. Ted and Mads had a lot of play dates when they were younger. I think it was just his mother’s way to get rid of him. He was one of us after all. Ted got dumped with his father a lot because of it. It kind of pissed me off a bit, that Alphas could have kids with us and then expect them to be Alphas too.
Everyone knew it didn’t work that way. Alphas were a genetic abnormality, not something, that could be created through procreation. Not that people didn’t try. Alphas even tried with one another but with little success. In fact, they couldn’t procreate with one another at all. It was one of the reasons they slummed so low as to “do it” with us normal people.
Their normal children were a lot like Ted too. No one knows why.
If you ask me, it was kind of a shame for the child.
I was about to return the pip when there was a knock on my door. Sighing, I quickly spun my chair and slid over to my desk. I had a pretty good idea who was on the other side of the door and I definitely didn’t want her catching me gawking. I was proven right a moment later when the door opened and my mother stuck her head inside. Her real head too, not some holographic representation of her like usual. I wonder what the occasion was.
“Ben, I’ve just been across the street,” she said, answering my unasked question.
So the death of a neighbor gets her home but not her two kids.
Typical.
“I didn’t know you knew Crystal?”
“Not a lot but enough. Besides its rude not to show.”
Sure, make me feel bad now. It’s not that I didn’t want to go, it’s just that I felt awkward just showing up like that. I didn’t really know Crystal after all and Maddie and I were barely friends. Showing up at her house to help mourn her dead sister just didn’t feel right to me.
“I don’t really…I mean I didn’t really know her.”
My Mom frowned. “You might not have known her but it’s proper to go and pay your respects anyway.”
Shit. I hated getting dressed up.
“You’re going to make me go aren’t you?”
“You’re almost fifteen now Benjamin, so I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. However, I think your friend Maddie might appreciate it if you showed.”
Double Shit.
How do Moms do that? Sure, she wasn’t telling me to go but she was sure as hell guilting me into it.
I tried to weigh my options. I only really had two of them. Stay here and look like an ass, not only in front of my own mother but also to Maddie. Or I could put on my best clothes, force a fake amount of grief and try to be human once in my life. I sure wanted to go with #1 but I had to do the right thing. Me and my stupid moral compass.
Why did I always pick the right thing?
The tie was too tight. I tried doing it myself but in the end, I let the Auto Dresser in my dad’s closet do it for me. I know what you’re thinking and no, my father knows how to put on his clothes. The Auto Dresser was there for things like that---ties. It was programmed for other things as well but it had this tie tying function. These little robot arms actually tied the stupid thing for you. It was very convenient but also a pain in the ass because it always made things too tight. It was like the stupid thing was literally out to choke you.
I finally managed to get it free from my neck. Loosening it as best I could, I was finally able to take a deep breath before walking out of the little main foyer area.
The Sanderson’s house wasn’t all that different from our own. In fact, it was nearly identical. Most of the houses in the Burb were all prefab things. Created with a computer program somewhere and assembled in a day. They had the same rooms, the same amount of bathrooms, the same two car garages and the same backyard, down to the centimeter. No one could ever say this place wasn’t efficient. The only thing different about the Sanderson’s was the color on the walls and the furniture of course. They also did some minor renovations as well, it seemed. They took out a wall, turning the kitchen and dining room into one large area. There was also a huge holo fish tank that floated down from the ceiling, centering the whole of the living room.
I looked around for their holoscreen, wondering why they would ever replace it. My wandering eyes caught the attention of some nearby adults so I quickly pretended I was scanning the room for someone. I recognized some of the adults. Miss Green was in the corner---she was our home room teacher. She was just as beautiful as ever. She was an Alpha, too. In fact all of our teachers were. It wasn’t unheard of actually. There were only six schools in our Zone. Twenty teachers rotated between each every four months. We had different subjects in the four month blocks. This block was Math and Science; last block was History and English. The next Block would be starting very soon, the Block I was looking forward to. It was the one where we took placement classes, leading us into the kind of career that we wanted to do.
For someone my age, it meant the world.
My little sister Carrie was still in the Under Program. Whereas she had the same teachers, her curriculum was much different. I was in what the schools referred to as the Intermediate Program.
Crystal---before her tragedy---was an Upper. They were already in Career Placement programs in their respective fields. I think I remember Maddie saying her sister was in Med.
Thinking about it actually pained me a little.
I quickly distracted myself trying to find someone I knew. I saw several other teachers, some parents and lots of neighbors. I thought I saw my little sister somewhere in the crowd. She and Mom had come over before me; Dad was the lucky one hiding at work. Nothing new there. I finally spotted Ted. He was with our other friend Joe, trying very hard to blend into the scenery near the food table. I made sure I didn’t run into anyone who might stop me as I slowly made my way over. Joe caught sight of me first, giving me a nod. Ted and Joe struck me as an odd pair. Whereas Ted was short and round, Joe was tall and very thin. Lots of the kids at school referred to them as the number ten whenever they were together. So of course, I referred to them as “One” and “Zero”.
“Hey Minus” said Joe as I approached them.
Sure if they were the number ten then I was the negative. People latched onto that pretty quick too. It was pretty well known around school how anti-social I was. Dark hair, dark clothes, dark demeanor. That pretty much summed me up. My grandfather said they used to have a name for it when he was younger. Someone like me didn’t even get categorized anymore. What with Alphas and the like. To them we were all Jects—short for Rejects of course. So for us to give ourselves denominators due to social status was a bit redundant.
“Hey guys,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Today was not a day to joke with my buds.
Ted turned and looked at me, giving me a nod. “Didn’t think you’d show.”
I shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
Ted nodded, clearly reading through my bullshit. That’s what I liked about him; you could never pull a fast one on Ted. He knew when you were lying, when you were sincere and when you were just trying to play it cool to look good. I guess he picked up a lot with a Mom like his. Sure, she was gorgeous but it was clear that she was fake. I looked around and caught her chatting up a group over in the corner. She was flashing a smile, laughing lightly at some joke. I’d only ever met her once or twice but from both those encounters, it was clear she wasn’t pleased to be around me. Pleased to be around any Jects for that matter. I still couldn’t figure out why she was here at all anyway.
“It looks good for company PR,” said Ted as if reading my thoughts.
His mother was the CEO of Scott Pharmaceuticals. They were the leading drug manufacturer on the East Coast. They supplied meds for several Zones, including the big Zone areas like NYC and Atlanta.
It still didn’t explain why she was here rubbing elbows with us little people.
“That guy next to her” said Ted, nodding to a tall, nondescript blonde. “That’s her assistant. Mom’s trying to write this off as some philanthropic PR stunt or some shit.”
Now that I could see. Say what you want about Alphas, they sure knew how to put themselves out there.
Most Alphas were either actors or politicians. Something that put their face all over the world. Though there were some who used their talents for other things. Like sports teams and big business. Alphas were after all stronger than us and much smarter than us. They explained it all in science class more than once but it was never my best subject. It had something to do with manifestation and the over activated brain something or other. Suffice to say, they were definitely better than us in just about anything they ever did.
Ted groaned. “Don’t look now but here comes the leech?”
I just caught a quick glance and saw the “leech” coming over. It was his mother’s assistant. He was an Alpha too, an Adonis. I always felt a little intimidated by them when they were near. Not only did their height make me feel tiny but their muscles and chiseled looks made me feel like I should wear a paper bag over my head for the rest of my life.
“Hey boys” he said in a tone that was borderline condescending. “How ya guys doing?”
Ted rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Jeremy?”
The Leech---Jeremy---feigned insult.
“Just getting another drink,” he said, stepping toward the table.
He stepped right between Ted and me, completely devoid of personal space. He nearly bowled me over too. I had to side step his approach and even then his hands still ended up on me. Trying to step one way only made it worse because he tried to go the other. It was awkward to say the least. After getting another drink, he looked annoyed at first as if he was going to insult me but thought better of it. As soon as he got his drink, he was gone. I watched him go, giving him daggers. I wasn’t the only one either though. As he walked back over to Ms. Scott, I saw the daggers she was giving him too. They exchanged words and whatever she said to him, it clearly took the wind from him because the look on his face was priceless.
I couldn’t help but smirk at that.
“What a tool?”
“Your Mom just bitch slapped him for it,” I said, laughing.
Joe and Ted gave me a strange look.
Yeah, so I didn’t laugh much.
“Hey did you guys see the latest vid?” asked Joe excitedly.
Joe was a bit of a vid nut. He was a techie like my Mom so anything to do with the Bios or Vids or Holos got his blood pumping. We both knew what he was jumpy about today though. It had to be the ASC. They were all over the Vids lately. The Alpha Superiority Coalition. They were a radical group of Alpha nut jobs who thought Alphas were superior to everyone and that the Jects needed to start to understand that or pay the price. They were nothing more than common thugs. Taggers and paint bombs mostly.
“What did they Paint now?” asked Ted, barely interested as he sipped his drink.
“They’ve escalated.”
Ted rolled his eyes but that actually did pique my interest a bit.
I was all for anarchy in all its forms.
“They popped one of trams yesterday, took it for a ride around the Outer Zone before the Sentinels finally pinched them.”
I’d heard the sirens yesterday but I had no idea it was for that. I just assumed some other punk tried to break into the Cube again. Cube break-ins or rather attempted break-ins happened every other day. People were always anxious to see what was on the other side of those high, pristine white walls. Hell, I was just as anxious too. I knew there was a proper way to get in though. Well two proper ways but I was pretty certain I was far from Alpha material. In fact, just thinking about that made my skin crawl. I was going to go about it the only sensible way.
As a Sentinel of course.
“They’ll be old news before you know it,” said Ted, disinterested as usual.
I had to agree with him though. The ASC were harmless, a bunch of street thugs just looking for a little screen time. As soon at their 15 seconds of fame was up, they’d be done.
“How do you pop a tram anyway?” I asked, letting my curiosity get the better of me.
“Not easily” said Ted and Joe together.
“A hack of that caliber” continued Joe “its high quality bio rewriting. Not to mention interrupting the System. Taking a mag off line is no easy task either.”
Joe tended to get loud when he was excited about something, especially when he was talking about his techie stuff. His voice carried and several of the people nearby gave him nasty looks. He didn’t notice but I quickly put my heel down on his foot. After yelping and cursing, I think it finally sunk in. Talking about derailing a mag at such an excited level and especially now, it wasn’t the brightest thing in the world.
“Dude” hissed Ted, looking just as angry as everyone else.
“Oh shit,” said Joe, turning a pale green.
Literally too, actually. He had one of those apps on his Bio that changed the pigment of his skin based on his emotions. It was absolutely pointless of course but a lot of kids our age had them. Well a lot excluded me.
After that, Ted started chastising him which I decided not to stay around for. I thought about going to look for Carrie but quickly second guessed that. I loved my kid sis but she was nine and I didn’t exactly have a lot in common with that. I tried to find common ground with her but she was all about her dolls and Bio pet things. The only thing we actually did have in common were our parents and the house we lived in. Well and maybe Toby. He was our dog. He was a German Shepherd on the good days, a Golden Retriever whenever Dad was around and a nice shaggy sheep dog whenever Carrie played with him.
Toby was a Synth. A synthetic bio-organize pet. Owning real dogs wasn’t allowed anymore so some ingenious company developed syntho-pets a few decades ago. They could literally be whatever you wanted them to be. We got REX003 when I was about Carrie’s age. Dad was always partial to dogs. He actually had a real one when he was a kid. A Golden Retriever named Toby, that’s sorta how ours got his name. Toby was great but according to Dad, he was nothing like the real thing.
I’m just surprised Carrie didn’t try smuggling him in here somehow.
I found my sister in one of the back room, playing with her friend Becky from down the street. They had their dolls out, up walking and talking. It always freaked me out when they did that. Whoever came up with toys like that was a genius of course but that didn’t stop me from wanted to stomp on them.
I thought about going out onto the back patio where I saw my Mom and several others but didn’t want to get into the mess. Maybe I’d just head home. I’d done my part after all. I made an appearance, I saw the guys, I filled my human quota for the day. I made a beeline for the door when I got pipped again. At first, I thought it was Ted again, trying to coax me into staying just a bit longer. I tapped my lobe and heard a voice I hadn’t actually heard speak to me in a long time: “Benjy?”
It was Maddie.
I turned around, confused. Then I caught sight of her. She was sitting in the shadows at the top of the stairs, her knees pulled up under her chin. I sighed, trying to remember the last time anyone ever called me Benjy. It had to be back when I was an Undie like Carrie. Benjy was a nickname that a lot of the kids called me. I actually think Maddie was the one who originated. She was also the only one who still ever called me by it. It’s just been so long since I’d actually heard her say it. I took a cautious breath before deciding what I wanted to do. I had two options again. Either continue out the door and forget her or turn around and go to her. I knew which one my head wanted me to do but my heart was telling me something else entirely.
I have a bit of a confession to make.
The real reason I stopped being friends with Maddie was because of puberty. It was exceptionally kind to the Sanderson sisters. Crystal was near Alpha pretty and her sister was a very close second. Maddie went from this chubby, chipmunk cheeked girl into a knockout over night. It was a pretty amazing metamorphosis actually. Sure, it was longer than over night but you get my drift. Suffice to say it didn’t take long for her to set my hormones racing. Unfortunately, that’s where the problem fell. I wasn’t the only one. I’m not sure which one of us decided it but somehow Ted got dibs. Call it the bro code or whatever but I wasn’t going to muscle in like that on my buddy. So I did the noble and heart wrenching thing and I backed off.
Ted got the girl even if he never actually got the girl.
The only thing the two of them were ever able to muster was a very good friendship. I know it pissed Ted off a lot too.
I made up my mind quick though.
I turned and started for the door just like before.
Pip. “Benjy, please, just once.”
Letting out an even heavier sigh than before, I finally made my way up the stairs. My legs felt like they both weighed a hundred pounds at least. I found Maddie sitting on the top step, still shrouded in shadow. It didn’t matter though because I could still vaguely see her face. Like Joe, she had one of those funky Bio apps too but unlike his, her app allowed her to change her hair color and makeup at will. Today it was all black, no surprise there. I dropped down the step next to her, not sure how to react or what to say. In the end it didn’t matter because as soon as I dropped next to her she had her arms around me, her head buried into my shoulder and the tears soon followed.
I tensed up.
I can count on one hand how many people ever actually hugged me. I can even use one finger to count how many people ever cried on me. To say I was a bit awkward was an understatement but I let her cry. It was the human thing to do; right? And cry she did. I’m not sure how long she actually did it for but when she stopped, I couldn’t help but want to hug her a bit myself. Instead, I took my grandfather’s handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her.
She dried her eyes. She might have even blown her nose. I didn’t really care just so long as it made her feel better.
“Thanks” she said in a soft voice, still clutching my keepsake tightly.
“I’m sorry about Crystal” I said and actually meant it too.
She didn’t say anything for a whole minute but when she did speak it was softly again. “I don’t understand it.”
“Understand what?”
“They said it was driver error. That Crys accidentally turned off the autopilot and car jerked from the rail going 80. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
She broke down again. This time I did hug her. Her head somehow ended up under my chin this time. Her hair smelled like lilacs. I kind of liked it. I held her a longer this time as she sobbed into my chest. I needed to comfort her, I needed to say something. Then I remembered what Dad said. The car Crystal was driving---the Saber---there was no way that a driver could switch off the auto. That function wasn’t even in the cockpit. He was certain that the malfunction was on the rail itself or one of the mag couplers on the bottom of the car.
It was definitely not pilot error as all the vids were saying.
So I told her that.
She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. “You’re sure?”
I smiled. “My Dad built the car. He should know after all.”
Her face split into the biggest smile I’d ever seen. God I forgot how much I loved that smile.
Then she did something I only ever dreamed. She actually grabbed my head and kissed me. It was a quick peck but it was still on the lips. She pulled away quickly, a little surprised more than anything. I was surprised to say the least too. We stared at each other for a few moments before she finally pulled away.
“Sorry” she said softly, welling up again.
I reached to comfort her again but she brushed me off.
Of course. Mistake. That’s all it even was with me.
No, not a mistake. Grief. I comforted her and she got lost in the moment. Nothing more, soon to be forgotten.
“I gotta go,” I said quickly, standing up.
I started down the stairs, getting pipped as I opened the door.
“Thanks Benjy”
Gods I would pay a million creds to keep hearing her say that name over and over again.
I couldn’t help but smile as I opened the door. Glad no one saw either because two in one day from me, people might think I was sick or something. I managed to smile all the way across the street though. I even found myself smiling as I got into the house and made it to my room. As soon as I got to the bedroom, the smile faded. Well good things can’t last forever, right?
Toby was on my bed waiting, currently a Boxer.
“I guess I might be human after all boy,” I said happily.
He cocked his head, giving me a funny look.
Then there was the pip.
One simple line.
“I saw that.”
Shit.
Ted.
Well it’s officially, I’m definitely human.
At least until tomorrow anyway.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Here's Ch.2, as promised. I'm going to try one chapter a week and see how that goes. I'm currently writing Ch.4 so I'm ahead of things---for now lol. No TG elements yet though just some explanations. Oh and if my science is off, let me know and help me change it please. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my beta readers for their great help.
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2:
For the next few days, Crystal’s death was the talk of the school. After all, dying in a car accident was a big deal now. My dad used to say such things were pretty common back in my great grandfather’s day when cars still ran on combustion engines and gasoline but the new mag-lev models were supposed to be infallible. Ok, so not totally of course, but an accident like Crystal’s was very rare. While the Vids were still calling it “pilot error”, I knew from Dad that such a thing wasn’t possible. It made me wonder why the government would continue to allow such a lie to sold to the masses. I mean after the Freedom of Speech act was amended to include private protection, you’d think that such a thing would be slander now.
The accident wasn’t the only thing that was on people’s minds though.
It didn’t take long for someone to crunch the numbers and figure out something even more drastic.
Crystal was a Ratio.
Now in some of the bigger Metros, something like that was nothing to fret about. After all, places like Metro One there were thousands of people. Ratios were a dime a dozen and cropped up like dandelions in summer. But here in Metro 656, a Ratio was a big deal. Our Metro wasn’t the smallest but it was pretty close. We only had about five thousand people, not including the Alphas and their families who lived in the Cube. So if one of the Jects happened to croak, it always made everyone take a moment. If one of us turned out to be a Ratio, then it really made everyone stop what they were doing. Especially considering the last one was nearly a year ago.
Population control was a big deal in the Metros. At any one given time, the System knew how many citizens were present and each one of us had a number. Don’t ask me mine because I haven’t the foggiest. The numbers helped the System keep a tally on the ratio between male and female citizens. That Ratio was important for the upkeep and well being of our society. If for instance not enough boys were born and a few of them were to die then there would be an imbalance. Thus, the next number in the sequence would be a Ratio. If another boy was born then the Ratio would go away and all would be fine. It was how the system worked.
There were, of course, unforeseen circumstances.
Like Crystal’s sudden and tragic death.
The fact that Crystal was a Ratio made things even more troublesome.
It meant there was now an imbalance in the female population.
It also meant a new Alpha was about to appear.
Even if a new baby girl were to be born tomorrow, things would not even themselves out overnight. The baby girl would be added to the System’s registry, of course, and as soon as she was processed, things would get back to business. But processing an infant took time and the System would be unbalanced until then. The System could function fine on its own but nature had other plans.
I learn about it every year in science and history class.
Shortly after my great grandfather was born, there was a nasty illness that swept across the world. They called it the XY Plague. Those born after a certain amount of time---mainly males---were susceptible to the plague. Nearly 80% of the male population was wiped clean. My great grandfather one of the lucky few. To compensate for this loss, nature found another way. The best way I can describe it is with clownfish. Say for instance, there are more male clownfish than females. Well then, one of the male fish becomes a female fish and things are balanced out. Well after the XY plague was cured, it was discovered that every baby born afterwards was born with what the media affectionately began calling the “Clownfish gene”.
According to science class, I know this type of change should be called sequential hermaphroditism. Up to that point in the history of the world, it was something only some fish, snails and plants had. However it seemed Mother Nature decided that it was the next step in human evolution. All of us born after the XY Plague are born that way but most of us live normal, healthy lives. It’s only when a Ratio comes up that we have to fear for things to come.
When a Ratio pops up one of us becomes an Alpha.
Now that might sound cool in the long run but the idea of changing one’s gender to achieve such a cool thing rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.
I know it did me.
I know it scared a lot of guys.
So suffice to say, the mood was pretty damn somber in school for the next couple of days. I couldn’t walk anywhere without hearing the whispers and the fear. People were running scared. The halls between classes were vacant, the lunch room nearly deserted. There were a lot of stupid superstitions surrounding the “Manifestation”. Some people believed if you stayed isolated, it would keep you safe. Others believed that your proximity to the opposite sex made it easier to “manifest”. There were even some who believed if you fled the Metro completely you were safe from it.
It was all bullshit of course.
Nothing stopped you from manifesting. If you were going to do it, you did it. It was like the lottery. If the right number was picked then that was that. There was nothing you could do to prevent it. History had proven that. When the first Alphas appeared, there was a lot of fear and lots of people ran scared. Scientists all around the globe tried to come up with ways to prevent such a thing from happening but nothing worked. When my grandfather was in his twenties, that’s when the first Cube was made. He was a first generation Sentinel. He was proud of it. The stories he used to tell me were some of my fondest memories of him. Whenever I asked him about what he thought about manifestation and the Alphas, he always used to tell me, “We only have one life and no matter how it turns out, we need to live it and accept it for what it is.” So if we were to manifest and become an Alpha, that was what our life was meant to be.
I always thought I took grandpa’s philosophy seriously.
Well that was before this whole Ratio thing.
Sure, the adults and the older Uppers had nothing to fear, they were immune to the change. It was us kids, the “Inters”, who had to worry. Manifestation usually occurred in teenagers from the ages of thirteen to sixteen. It often happened during the onset of puberty but was not uncommon to manifest later. The change occurred over a period of about a week. The first sign was a slight tingling on the back of your hand. That tingling would grow into a rash which over the course of the day would slowly manifest itself into a rudimentary symbol: the female symbol would pop up on a guy and vice versa for a girl. It was kind of weird actually but who was I to argue with Nature.
To say I was scared was an understatement.
As I walked into the cafeteria, I was surprised to see I wasn’t the only one.
On a normal day the room was packed and buzzing with activity. Guys and girls laughed and co-mingled without a care in the world. Today it was not like that. Yesterday had been bad of course, especially after the afternoon Vids came on. Today was a completely different story. Whereas yesterday there was slight panic today it was a ghost town. There were a hundred Inters in the school on a day-to-day basis. We all ate at the same time in Cafeteria 2. Like I said before, usually it was Grand Central Station. Today it was the Sahara. You could drive a hover truck through the gaps in the people. It was even worse when you considered that the majority of the guys in the room were sitting on one side and the girls on the other.
No one spoke.
No one even looked at each other.
A pin dropping in here would be like a bomb going off.
I scanned the room, looking at all the idiots. I spotted Joe and Ted sitting at an overly crowded table with a bunch of other guys. Ted’s back was to me, eating normally. Joe gave me a look, his face a pukish gray currently. Joe was a smart guy, his parents worked with my Mom in fact. They were smart people too. In just floored me that he’d actually believe some of the stupid stuff. I gave him a look and shook my head. I was actually ashamed at the moment to call him my friend. I wasn’t as ashamed of Ted though. I know he was only sitting there because Joe was.
I also know that he was pretty pissed.
He was angry about the kiss.
I tried to tell him that it was incident and it meant nothing. I also told him that she was upset, I told her something to make her feel better and she reacted. It was innocent and stupid. Ted didn’t see it that way. I’m not sure I wanted to either. I knew what it really was and I think Ted did as well but I wanted it to be more. I wasn’t going to lie to myself. I had it bad for Maddie. She was after all the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen---not counting any Alpha girl.
Alphas didn’t count as far as I was concerned. Maddie was the one I wanted. She was always the one I wanted. I backed off though. I knew Ted liked her too. He was my best friend. There was no way I could betray him like that.
So I let them have their time.
I left Maddie alone.
It was working too. That is until her sister’s wake of course.
I should have just walked away. I should have just stuck with my guns and left like I wanted too. The only problem was that I erred and decided to be human.
See, being human leads to nothing but problems.
Yesterday I set about to talk to Maddie. I wanted to clear the air. I wanted her to know that I knew the kiss was nothing and that she was upset. Except she wasn’t in school yesterday. I suppose I couldn’t blame her. She was still grieving. After my grandfather passed away, I spent two days crying in my room. I couldn’t even bring myself to go to the funeral. In fact, to this day, I have yet to visit his grave. I can’t do it, it’s just too painful. He was the closest thing to a true friend and definitely a true parent I had. Sure, Mom and Dad were there but they weren’t really. They worked all the time and grandpa; he was the guy who had my back.
Crystal and Maddie were like that too.
So it was only understandable.
Only human.
So after I finished staring at Ted’s back, I decided to see if I could find Maddie. It actually wasn’t all that hard. She was the girl sitting at the table all by herself. The table that was away from every other girl on her side of the cafeteria. Oh yeah, I forgot about that stupid superstition. Somehow, people actually believed that the Ratio was cursed and that anyone who came in close contact with them was cursed as well. That if you even sat next to them, somehow the curse would activate and that either you or one of your loved ones would become the next Alpha.
It was by far one of the stupider ones.
I took a deep breath and started toward her.
I dropped into the seat across from her, though she barely noticed.
I decided with something light to break the ice.
“Hey”
I’m going with the classics here.
She looked up at me, surprised at first.
“You sure you want to be seen sitting with the pariah. You might get cursed and grow boobs out of your forehead or something.”
“I’ll take my chances”
Maddie smiled. God she had a great one.
I was glad to see she was a lot happier today too. Her gloom was gone and in its place was something slightly more her. Her hair was still on the shade of dark but at least it was purple and not black. Her makeup was still black though. She was also sporting a black ring. Most people didn’t really go for the whole black is for mourning anymore. Now the trend was to wear rings. Even the guys wore them but usually only on their thumbs and no more than a day or so. I did notice a few of the other girls wearing similar rings. A lot of the Uppers had them on too, mostly Crystal’s friends.
It was kind of nice they were showing their support.
I thought about getting a ring too but I think it would have soiled my whole loner image.
The Loner cares.
Yeah.
Not.
Good.
“So” I said, trying to find something worthy. “Are you feeling any better today?”
She set down her fork. Not that she was really eating to begin with. All her food was still on the tray, untouched. I think she was just using the fork to move everything around.
She sighed. “I’m sorry, Ok.”
“About what?”
“The kiss”
“Oh” I said, shrugging. “Nothing to apologize for. You were upset. I told you something nice, it was a perfectly normal reaction I suppose. I mean I don’t want to ruin things between you and Ted.”
She scoffed. “Me and Ted?”
She laughed a bit.
“Don’t get me wrong, Ted is a nice guy but there’s nothing going on there” She laughed even louder. “He’s just a friend. I mean he might think something more is going to come out of all of this but I can assure you that Ted and I are never going to happen.”
So maybe I recorded that bit.
Sue me.
I just wanted to make sure I had it on file if Ted ever got into my face about all this shit. I knew Ted. He’d stew about this for a bit, get pissy then boil over. When I least expected it, he’d strike. Usually I just let him come because well he’s Ted. He gets filled with hot air a lot and tends to overreact to the littlest things. He would come at me with this eventually and now I had something to use if he got too carried away. I didn’t want to hurt him, of course, but like I said, sometimes he overdid things. I can still remember what happened when I got a hover bike first. He avoided me for a week then came by with an even better bike. It probably cost a fortune and Ted got it just because he wanted to prove he was better than me.
He was like that with a lot of people.
In fact, it was pretty common when one of your parents was an Alpha. Living with perfection and not being a part of it, it tends to rub people the wrong way. Every once and a while there was a News Vid about some Alpha’s kid going ballistic and doing something stupid. It went with the territory.
Ted was no different.
“Are things Ok with you two?” she asked, clearly looking over my shoulder to see him.
I only half turned, catching him out of the corner of my eye. He no longer had his back turned to me. Instead, he was now staring daggers at us. I could only imagine what this must have looked like to him.
I sighed.
Fuck him.
“I’m fine but you know Ted.”
She nodded. “Unfortunately.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You should have seen what happened after you left. I mean I only saw because they didn’t see me at the top of the stairs but I caught this argument between Ted’s Mom and that assistant guy of hers”
“Jeremy” I said.
“Yeah him” she said then continued quickly. “I’m not sure what the argument was about but she kept calling him a moron. She was saying something about the wrong one. I think he screwed up some business thing. I overheard her talking to Mom earlier about business. Mom was in the den, on the holo with her. I think that’s why she was there.”
“So she couldn’t even come there to mourn your sister?”
“Yeah I know right” Maddie looked slightly hurt. “Say what you will about Alphas but sometimes those people are real asses.”
I bit my lip. “So do you ever hear from Ryan?”
It was clearly a sore subject, especially from the sneer it provoked.
“We don’t”
“Sorry” I said softly.
I knew her brother was a sore subject and I’m an ass for bringing it up. I remember Ryan growing up, he was kind of cool. He was about ten years older than Maddie and I. Ryan was one of the coolest guys I knew. He used to let me help him wash his hover car on the weekends. When he manifested I was only five. I don’t really remember much of the specifics only that I was upset because I thought maybe Maddie would have to move away. But the only one who left was Ryan. I cried a bit because I was upset that we couldn’t hang out anymore.
Of course, it wasn’t the last I saw of him. Well her now.
After Ryan emerged, he became a super star.
Everyone knew Rachel Monroe.
She was the star of several Vids and Commercials. Her face was practically everywhere these days. There wasn’t a person in the whole Zone who didn’t want to be her friend or to even be in her company. To be in the shadow of Rachel Monroe was like walking in the shade of a giant. I’m even ashamed to admit that I even have a few of her Vids in my personal file storage.
“She” said Maddie, putting it in air quotes. “Wants nothing more to do with the Jects who she once called family. The overbearing bitch could even keep our Ject name.”
Yeah lots of bad blood there.
Open mouth, insert foot.
Gods, I’m such an idiot.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring up such a sore subject.”
“It’s ok” she said and sighed. “That person is not my family anymore. She’s not my sister and never will be. I have a sister and she was great. Rachel Whats-Her-Face can go suck it for all I care.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
On instinct, I reached out and touched her hand to comfort her. She didn’t pull away. A moment later, there was a pip.
“Dude, Minus” it was Joe. “What are you doing, you can’t touch her!”
I of course ignored him.
I continued to keep my hand on hers for another minute or so. She didn’t try to pull away once. Of course it didn’t last. When we finally did pull our hands away, both of us were smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good. It was a nice feeling actually.
“So are you excited about this afternoon?”
Was I ever? I think I might have mentioned more than once about wanting to be a Sentinel. Well this afternoon was the first step on my road to achieving that goal. Today after lunch, we were all to meet with our Placement Specialists. We’d get a standard physical then answer a series of questions. For once in my life, I was actually kind of excited. I hated feeling this way knowing that was feeling so bad but from the look on her face, she looked really excited too.
Maybe this Placement was what she needed to help her move on.
“What Placement are you going for?”
“Medical, I want to follow in Crys’s footsteps.”
“I think she would like that.”
Maddie smiled. “How about you? You still want to be like your grandfather?”
Holy crap, she remembered.
“You remember that?”
She laughed. “Of course, Benjy. You used to run around with that old Sentinel hat of his and pretend to arrest all of us. It was so darn cute.”
I laughed. “I just want to make the Old Man proud.”
She touched my hand this time.
“I’m sure he is.”
Pip. “Great now you’re double cursed.”
Still ignoring. I also made up my mind about something. To hell with Ted. She didn’t want him and he clearly didn’t have the gall to do anything so I’m going for it. If she laughed at me then I could take it. I have thick skin but I had to try.
“So Mad, if you’re not doing anything this weekend, you think you might want to catch the new Vid with me?”
Ok so it was lame but I had to take the plunge.
She stared at me for a moment or two.
I was convinced I was toast.
Then she smiled.
“Sure, Benjy, I’d like that.”
BANG.
SCORE.
BENJY ROCKS!!!
A few seconds later the tone sounded, ending lunch. Maddie and I got up separately, carrying our still uneaten lunch to the recycler. We walked out of the cafeteria together, the rest of the world a mere memory for that one split second of a moment.
I found myself grabbing her hand as we walked out the door.
I was so excited I could actually feel the tingle.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Here's Ch.3. I'd like to say I'm on schedule to post Ch.4 next work but sadly I'm only half done with it. Unfortunately, Real Life has interfered with this story and I've been really busy. Sadly I might be real busy for the next couple of weeks now too. I'll try to finish 4 to have it up next week but any other chapter might be delayed a bit after that. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my beta readers for their great help.
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3:
“Benjamin Daniels?”
The secretary behind the desk was Alpha pretty. She didn’t have the height or athletic build, of course, but she was still a knockout. That’s all I noticed about her though. I was just too nervous to really pay attention to anything else. This was it after all. This was the moment I’d been waiting for ever since my grandfather’s first story. I was finally on my way to achieving my lifelong dream. Ok so it was technically only the first step but it was the first step of my future.
My first human step.
I stood up from the hardback chair, taking a deep breath as I did so.
When I first arrived nearly an hour ago, there had been seven of us. Now there were just two. The other kid was Mark Ross. He and I were mutual acquaintances. Well technically all of us were acquaintances. We all had the same classes together after all, except for PE of course. Even then, though, there was only an invisible line dividing the girl’s half of the gym from ours. I never understood why we had separate classes actually. After all, we did the exact same things. The only thing that really needed to be different was our locker rooms.
Even then, there was some debate.
Mark looked through the vid screen in front of me, nodding as he did so.
I nodded back before I followed the secretary through the door she opened. She stepped aside and stopped, apparently not going any farther.
“First door on the right” she said as I stepped past her.
As soon as I started down the hall, I heard the door close behind me. I was a bit nervous as I followed the hall. When I got to the door, I paused before entering. I’d had quite a few physicals, actually. In fact, it was standard for us to have one every six months. I knew this one was a bit different though. There were certain qualities that the Sentinels were looking for. It wasn’t just physical stuff either. I needed to have a proper mental state as well. Being a Sentinel wasn’t just about patrolling the perimeter of the Cube. I had to be in peak physical and mental condition.
I had the advantage of having my grandfather to tell me what to do.
I took another deep breath and opened the door, stepping into the small room. Inside I found another chair, this one cushioned.
“Take a seat,” said a voice in my ear.
It was always a bit unsettling when the Administration could access your Bio whenever they wanted.
I did as I was instructed, dropping comfortably into the large chair.
A moment later, a panel in the ceiling opened and a console slowly dropped down in front of me. All very routine.
Physicals were done a little bit differently now. I knew from history class that something like this would have been overseen by a medical professional. But with the invention of Bios, most medical professionals were obsolete. Sure we still had them but most of it was lab work now. Medical science was now a hybrid field with computer and biological sciences. The Meds worked closely with the Bio division to find ways to better advance the Bios’ performance. A hundred years ago when Newton Cross invented the Bio, he changed the course of human history. I single device that could tap into an individual’s brain and in essence, their very core self.
The Bios of course had advanced quite a bit since the first version.
Now human beings couldn’t function without them.
“Insert the tube please,” said the voice, referring to the “tube” that came out of the side of the console.
I grabbed the thin, black cord, then slowly inserted it in the little port under my left earlobe. Whereas the right ear was for communication, the left had a tiny hole or “port” for medical reasons. It might seem a little weird and I’m sure when they were first implemented people probably freaked, but now it was how the world worked. I suppose you could say that with the port and the Bio, human beings weren’t really fully human anymore. Add Alphas to that equation and well that was a whole new ball game.
A moment after inserting the tube, the console in front of me lit up. A second later, a small holographic representation of myself appeared. A blue dot appeared near my left ear then slowly started to trail its way through my body, following my central nervous system, lighting up as it went along. I followed the first blue line for a second but lost track of it a second later when it split into several different directions. After less than a minute, the holographic me was all blue lines. It was kind of freaky.
I shifted in my seat.
“Sit still please”
Sighing, I tried not to move anymore. Of course, I started to get an itch. I decided to concentrate on holo me again.
The blue lines remained and a red line started. I watched it for a moment as it followed my blood stream. After that, a yellow line started highlighting my internal organs. Then purple started to highlight my skeleton. Finally, green started to highlight my muscles. When it was all done, holo me looked like a little rainbow man.
“Thank you for your patience” said a voice a moment after the green line finished.
“You’re welcome,” I said, even though I knew the voice couldn’t hear me.
“You may remove the tube now but please remain seated.”
I took the tube out of my port. As soon as I let it go, it quickly recoiled back into the console. A moment after that, a mechanical appendage appeared. Nearly identical to the arms of the auto dresser, the only difference being this one had a syringe. I flinched, guessing what was next.
“Raise your left arm and remain absolutely still.”
I did as instructed.
The arm stuck me fast. I flinched again. Then watched as it drew my blood.
It was kind of funny actually. All this advanced tech and they still used old school syringes. I suppose if something isn’t broke, there’s no need to fix it. After my blood filled up the syringe, the arm quickly retracted back into the console. A few seconds after that, the console returned to the ceiling.
I sat and waited for my next instruction. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Please report to room 213, down the hall, second door on the left.”
I left the tiny room and followed the hallway again. My nerves had subsided some but I knew the hardest part was about to come.
Physicals were very straightforward because Bios never lied. My grandfather had told me that much. According to him, what really mattered was making a good impression during the interview portion of the process. All Placement processing exams were the same. First, there was a test you took the year before. If you passed that, then the following year, you got an appointment. Last year the test had been a joke. Then again, I had a good coach. Unfortunately, now there was nothing I could do to prepare for this next part.
This was all me. No pressure.
I found room 213 easily enough. Not sure what to do I knocked but no one answered. I knocked a second time but finally convinced myself there was probably no one on the other side. Taking the imitative, I opened the door. Sure enough, I was right. I found myself standing in an empty, well, one devoid of people anyway. In the center of the room, I found a table and a single chair. Other than that, it was pretty barren. It was kind of creepy actually. Even creepier because it didn’t even have a window.
I tried to look like I belonged there by quickly making my way over to the table. I took a seat in the chair, hoping that I wasn’t wasting my time in the process.
As soon as my butt hit the seat, my fears subsided.
A holographic image of a man--- wearing the white uniform of a Sentinel---appeared in the middle of the table. The 14-inch high holo-image flicked only once before stabilizing. The figure was middle aged but well fit. I could just make out the insignia of Sergeant on his left shoulder.
“Mr. Daniels?”He asked, I nodded. “Good to meet ya, Sergeant Philips, I’ll be your Orientation Officer.”
“Orientation?” I asked, surprised. “Does that mean I’m in?”
He gave me a look. “You were in, son, the moment you stepped through the door.”
Shit.
“You’d be surprised how many kids your age never bother to take that step. We monitor that hall and out of the seven of you today, only three of you opened the door. You should be proud of that, son.”
I had passed a test I didn’t even know existed.
I suppose it made sense when you think about it. If someone didn’t have enough courage to enter a room without being told to do so then they had no point being there. Well ok, so maybe courage wasn’t the right word, confidence might fit better. Grandpa taught me to be confident a lot time ago. I might be a self-appointed loner but I wasn’t afraid to be myself. I knew who I was and that’s all that mattered. I was confident in who I was too.
“This is awesome,” I said, unable to contain my glee.
Philips smiled. “You’re very privileged, not many kids your age make it into the Sentinels.”
I knew all about that too.
Out of all the potential Sentinel Probates, less than half actually made it out of their first years. Even if you did, things were hardly easy. As soon as I become an Upper next year, I’m going to have to spread my time between school and Sentinel Academy. The Academy was no walk in the park either from what I’ve heard. There was a rigorous training program that a cadet went through. It was the program that caused ninety percent of the washouts. I was ready for it though.
I was ready for it all.
I would not quit.
I would not fail.
I would make my grandfather proud of me.
“You’re Murray’s grandson aren’t you?”
The question took me by surprise. Grandpa only made it to Sergeant rank in the Sentinels. He told me he was happy there. He used to operate the gate on the south side of the Cube. Other than that, he really didn’t talk much about his work. Sure, he would share some interesting stories but the day-to-day stuff was pretty boring according to him.
“You knew my grandfather?”
Philips laughed. “By reputation only.”
Reputation?
What the hell did that mean?
I wanted to ask more but he already moved on.
“Now an orientation with the Sentinels is not easy. There’s a lot of hard work involved. If at any time you feel it’s too much, you let me and we can make other arrangements.”
A washout, not likely.
“I know what’s involved and I’m ready for it.”
“Good, just the attitude I wanted.”
Sergeant Philips spent the next several minutes telling me everything I would need to know. Most of it he said would be covered in the manual they would send me later tonight. After that, he asked me a lot of questions. Most of them I’m sure he already knew the answers to, but he was testing me again. I answered as best I could. After all, I wanted to make the best impression I could. While we were talking, my nervousness began to fade but something else started to replace it. I started to feel the itch about halfway through our talk. It actually wasn’t all that uncommon for me.
I’ve had blood drawn before and each time afterwards, I always started to itch.
I think I had allergic reactions to whatever process they used.
It was no different this time.
I scratched my hand a few times, then tried to ignore it.
Thankfully, the Sergeant didn’t notice or if he did, he was polite enough not to say anything.
When we finally ended our conversation, he stood at attention and saluted me.
“Probate Daniels” he said, making me straighten up a little. “It is my honor to welcome you to the Sentinels.”
I smiled. “Thank you sir.”
I did it, Grandpa.
I’m a Sentinel.
I stood and returned the salute. After that, the Sergeant’s holo disappeared, leaving me alone. I let out a final great big sigh then itched my hand again.
Things were finally starting to look up for me.
The house was quiet when I got home, which wasn’t a surprise at all. I couldn’t remember the last time one or both of my parents were home. Sure Mom made appearances but most of her life was her work. Dad was the same but at least he could work out of home if he needed. He had converted our garage into a workshop a few years ago. My parents weren’t bad parents, they were just really busy. It helped a lot when grandpa was here. He was more of a parent than either one of mine. Like I said though, it wasn’t that Mom and Dad didn’t try. They tried real hard but often saying something and doing something for them were two completely different things.
Hey, they were only human after all.
“Carrie” I shouted, dropping my bag near the door like usual.
More than likely my sister would be in the den. The den had the bigger of the two vid screens and my father’s vintage collection of old movies. Carrie liked to hide away there every day after school. I used to do the same. It was kind of cool to watch some of those oldies. The graphics were a joke and there were no holograms but they were still pretty entertaining. Even the 3D effects were decent if you could get over how flat looking, they were. Dad seemed to enjoy them. Then again, he enjoyed anything vintage. He was a bit of a collector. He had a lot of really cool stuff actually. His pride and joy though was the vintage 2040 Ford Vector. It was the last combustion engine vehicle ever produced. There were only four left on the whole planet.
Dad pulled a lot of strings to get it too.
Unfortunately, it was illegal to drive or else I’m sure he’d be tearing up the streets right now with it.
“Carrie” I called again, making my way to the kitchen.
As soon as I stepped inside, the lights turned on.
I walked to the island and brought up the console there then brought up the holo interface. Scrolling through the fridge, I was hoping to find something quick and easy for dinner tonight. With Mom and Dad pulling another all nighter, it was up to me to feed us again. I continued to scroll, trying to decide what I might be interested in. The fridge was well stocked today. Mom must have reset it before going to work this morning. She even put in Burger King and Domino’s. She must have been feeling really charitable. She usually left the fast food places out of the weekly rotation.
“Carrie” I shouted, hoping I’d break through to her finally.
Third time’s a charm.
My sister appeared a minute or so later, Toby trailing behind her.
“What” she asked, annoyed.
Eight years old and an attitude already.
I turned to look at her, wondering what fashion forward guru she was emulating today. Carrie liked to be hip and fresh. Every day she modeled her outfit off of one of the vid star’s latest looks. Today was no different. Her dress was pink, her hair done in pigtails. I was just glad the dog wasn’t pink too. Toby was looking very fashionable today though, I heard Siberian Huskies were all the rage lately.
“You want Domino’s?”
She shrugged. “Whatever is fine with me?”
“Are you this much of a bitch with Mom too?”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t know.”
Burn.
The sad thing was it was the truth.
Eight years old and already so wise.
Scary too.
“They leave an ETA this time?”
“Probably” said Carrie, feigning disinterest. “I’m going back to the den, my show is back on.”
She left just as quickly as she arrived, the dog stayed behind.
Man’s best friend, loyal to the end.
I ordered up the pizza then headed up to my room. Toby followed, keeping at my heels. This was routine with us, too. He stuck with Carrie until I got home then he was my pal for the rest of the night. It was how he was programmed actually. His subroutines could be changed at any time but I kind of liked it that way. Of course, when Dad was home, he always liked to tamper with him. I loved Toby, I loved the fact that he would be around forever but I think I would have much preferred a real dog. It was a shame that they didn’t allow them in the Zones anymore. There were still some places out in the rural areas who still had real ones but it was a dying fad.
I mean who would want a real dog when they could design their own.
Man, this society was messed up.
Entering the room, the lights immediately turned on. I also noticed that the indicator light on my wall vid was blinking. Ignoring it for a second, I dropped onto my bed. I just needed a moment to myself. Toby jumped up next to me, laying his head on my chest. I laid there, petting his head and staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t help but smile, too. I did it, I was a Sentinel now. So Ok, I wasn’t even a Cadet yet, but I was in. If grandpa was still alive, I’m sure he’d want to celebrate. I thought about calling my parents, telling them the good news but I don’t think they’d care. Neither one of them was too keen on the idea in the first place. Dad thought I should have followed Uncle Frank and gone into politics, mom wanted me to be a writer of all things.
Neither one of them knew me at all.
I wanted to be like grandpa, the man I idolized.
Why couldn’t they see that?
“They’re clueless Toby,” I said, which caused him to cock his head.
I laughed then sat up, groaning as I realized that someone wanted me to be social.
I took a moment before I answered, though.
Glancing around my room, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before I gave this all up for a place in the Cube.
I was happy and sad at the same time.
I had a lot of good times in this room.
But I’m not sure I was going to miss it.
Sure, it was my room but it wasn’t very personalized. Carrie’s room was much more decorated to fit her personality. Mom had even let her color change the walls pink. Me, I liked the steel gray of my walls. I also liked the lack of personal things that I had going on. Sure, I had some pictures and my desk but nothing really stood out as being specifically me. The pictures were framed holos of me and my family. The desk had a lamp sitting on it and my console. My cabinet on the far wall had a few books but most of them I had read half a dozen times. I watched vids but not as much as my friends and definitely not as much as Carrie. The only thing I ever really cared about was the Sentinels. Well, that and my grandfather’s old badge. It was also one of the very few possessions of his I still had. I wore it on a chain around my neck, keeping it with me always. It made me feel like grandpa was with me everywhere I go.
My eyes fell on the wall vid and the blinking light.
Sighing, I brought up the interface and waited as it came to life. The typical System logo and message played first followed by a quick scroll of the top news stories. I ignored all that of course. A moment later, Joe’s face filled up the screen.
“Dude, about damn time” he said, feigning annoyance.
“Sorry, I just got home.”
“So how’d it go?”
“I’m in” I said, smiling.
“Of course you are” he said with a laugh. “I got in, too.”
Joe wanted to be in Comms like Mom. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that he got into that.
“What about Ted?”
Joe shrugged. “Not even sure what he was going for?”
Ted was a weird friend. Sure, he was my best friend but he was a very private person. The three of us used to be really close but lately he’d been kind of distant. At one time, he wanted to be a Sentinel like me but something changed. He never really said what and no matter how much we tried, we could never get him to confess the reason. Now neither Joe nor I knew what Ted wanted. Our friendship was a bit on again, off again, too. It was almost as if he was developing a weird mental illness. One minute he’d be just like good ole Ted, then he’d be this complete stranger the next minute. The only problem with my theory was that mental illness was obsolete now thanks to the Bios.
No, whatever Ted’ thing was it, it was all him.
Screw him.
I was tired of trying to figure him out.
“So” said Joe, bobbing his eyebrows up and down. “What’s this I hear about you and Maddie?”
Holy shit.
“How the hell did you know about that?”
“Melissa Jackson has an audible app, she kind of heard you two today.”
Shit, Melissa was a nasty gossip.
So now, everyone knew.
Which meant my good buddy Ted did as well.
Great.
“That girl needs to get a life” I said, shaking my head.
“Ted is pissed.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t see him making a move. I waited; he fumbled so I went for it.”
Joe laughed. “Oh he made his move last week.”
“What? Really?”
Joe laughed even louder. “Oh yeah, it was pretty epic. He came, he saw and he crashed. Maddie busted him up pretty bad. It was fucking hilarious.”
Shit, I had no idea.
I couldn’t help but laugh though.
I had to hand it to him though; I never thought he had the courage to do it. I knew he talked about it a lot but he never actually did anything. I can only give him points for trying. It sucks that she rejected him though. I suppose that would explain why he’s so pissed off at me right now. I had actually succeeded where he failed. That was definitely not going to go over well. I just knew he was going to try harder to top me somehow.
“This is going to be a pain in the ass,” I said.
“Ted is the least of our problems,” said Joe, lowering his voice. “I’ve been following the news, still no manifestation.”
Damn it.
This was bad, this was really bad.
After a Ratio died, it usually took a day for a manifestation to occur. The new Alphas were usually picked up, reported and in the news by the end of the second day. Here it was nearly two days after Crystal’s wake, nearly four days after her death and no new Alpha yet. This was scary business indeed, especially for us guys in the fallout zone.
“How big is the FZ this time?”
“Including you, me and Ted?” I nodded. “Forty six in this zone. I suppose it’s possible the manifestation could occur in another Zone but we both know that’s pretty rare. No we’re looking at forty six potential future Aphrodites.”
Shit.
“You gonna get the shot?”
Shit, not that bogus crap.
The “Shot” was horse crap. It was some homeopathic garbage someone cooked up to make an extra buck or two. According to the latest Vids, this shot was supposed to keep people from manifesting. It was complete crap of course but a lot of morons fell for it. The government was totally against them, too. They kept warning people that the shots were bogus and were a waste of your money but that didn’t stop the idiots. Some people even got two just in case.
“Don’t tell me you believe that crap?”
Joe showed me his arm, where a small band-aid was present.
“Done.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Hey I’m not taking any chances. Aphrodites may be hot but that doesn’t mean I want to be one. Boobs are great and all but as long as they’re on someone else.”
Hell I didn’t want boobs either but I wasn’t stupid enough to throw my money away on stupid crap.
“Joe, you’re supposed to be the smart one.”
He gave me the finger.
We both had a good laugh.
“You know,” he said, after our laughing fit. “You might actually be hot. You’ve got the bone structure and look your hair is already long enough so it wouldn’t have to grow all that much. Slap you in a dress, you’d make one hot chick.”
“Go fuck yourself” I said, laughing.
Joe joined me.
“Let’s make a pact, right here and now,” he said, getting serious. “If one of us turns, the other gets dibs on asking her out.”
I started laughing but stopped when I realized Joe hadn’t joined me.
Sometimes I really worried about me.
“I’m going to eat now” I said, annoyed.
“You’re not agreeing to the pact?”
“Cya tomorrow Joe.”
“That is so cold.”
I clicked off the vid, laughing again.
Idiot.
As I started out my bedroom door, the itching in my hand came back. I cursed, trying my best to ignore it. Whatever the hell they used this time, it was really starting to piss me off. I’m going to have to see if I can get some cream for it or something. If not, this fucking itch was going to drive me insane.
I found myself absently itching as I walked down the hall, cursing when I noticed my skin starting to turn red as well.
Great, now I’ve got a rash.
Fucking Med Centers.
I just hope it’s not contagious.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note:Here's Ch.4. Like I mentioned last week, this will probably be the last update on this story for about a week or so. Don't expect a chapter next week sadly. I'll try to find some time to write 5 but it might be two weeks or so before I get to it :( So no lynching me for the nasty cliffhanger at the end of this one :P I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my beta readers for their great help.
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4:
“You’re going to wear that?” asked my sister from behind.
I was standing in front of my mirror, putting on my only good shirt.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Didn’t you wear that to her sister’s funeral?”
Wake, but yeah she had a point. I sighed as I stopped buttoning it. I was already nervous enough; I didn’t need my picky little sister to add to it. Carrie let out a sigh of her own before coming into the room. Without asking, she started for my virtual closet, scrolling through my collection. I could see the disgust on her face already. She started to grumble, systematically rejecting shirt after shirt as she stopped on them for a moment. It took her only a few moments to go through what I had to offer and clearly, she wasn’t the least bit satisfied.
“You’re hopeless,” she said, shoving me aside as she made her way to my wall vid.
I watched with interest as she brought up the GAP, groaning a bit as I realized what she was doing. I wanted to protest but I realized it was futile. Like my mother, once Carrie set her mind to something there was no stopping her. So if she thought my wardrobe was crap, and apparently she did, I couldn’t stop her from correcting the issue. I learned a long time ago to just go with the flow with the women in my family.
The flow was currently leading me to a really nice blue dress shirt and designer jeans.
An expensive shirt and jeans.
“I can’t afford that”.
“This one is on me, bro,” she said, whipping out her cred chip and sticking it into the wall slot. “After all, Mom told me to spend my money on a worthy cause.”
I watched as my sister quickly burned through her weekly allowance and then some.
I made a mental note to pay her back.
When she was done, a buzzing sounded from downstairs.
“Be right back” she said as she ran out of the room.
Shopping was completely different now that everything was done virtually. Whereas in the past you would have to go to a store and spend hours trying on clothes, now everything was automated. You could shop right from your own bedroom and have the clothes you ordered delivered in mere seconds. It was amazing some of the innovations of the future brought us.
Grandpa said it always used to floor him how simple things were now.
A moment later, Carrie came running back into the room carrying a silver wrapped packet with GAP printed all over it.
“You can thank me later,” she said, tossing it at me before leaving.
I stared at the package in my hand for several seconds, trying to decide the best course of action. It was hard not to trust Carrie’s fashion sense. However, I couldn’t help but think she was setting me up for something too. Though she looked like an eight year old, she was one of the brightest and most devious little brats I’d ever seen. Sure, this package could contain exactly what she appeared to order for me or it could be an elaborate trap. I could open it and it could be a paint bomb or something just as mischievous. Last year when Dad turned forty, she had given him a box, which in all likelihood should have contained a mug. Except when he opened it, there was a loud sonic box in there. Dad said he still had ringing in his ears.
That little stunt had earned her a nice grounding.
It only lasted two days.
Carrie managed to weasel her way out of it.
Dad always was a softie for her.
After several more seconds, I decided the risk was worth it. After all, like she pointed out, I really didn’t know what I was doing.
I braced myself as I tore into the package, expecting anything. I was marginally surprised when I found the designer shirt and jeans she bought for me. I took them out of package, laying them gently on my bed. As I did, I noticed another package fall out. It was wrapped in black, almost like an envelope. I picked it up and opened it slowly. I groaned as soon as I saw what was inside: a pair of sheer, black panties.
Pip. “Just in case you know. Hey, I’ve always wanted a sister.”
Then her laughter.
So it was one of those pranks.
I made a quick mental note to get her back later.
I quickly disrobed. I wanted to get going as quick as I could. Mads and I weren’t supposed to meet up for another hour but it didn’t hurt to be a tad earlier. When I was down to my boxers, I couldn’t help but notice something felt off. It almost looked as if the hair on my legs looked lighter and less dense than it did yesterday. I reached down and touched my left leg. It didn’t feel any different. Maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe it was more fear, though.
Last night’s conversation with Joe didn’t settle well with me.
It was really rare for a manifestation to take this long. The media was running wild with it, too. All of them had their theories of course, most of them were bullshit. The only thing they were doing was making guys like me run even more scared. It didn’t help this morning when I woke to the same. They were even debating shutting school down Monday for fear that there might not be enough students attending to keep the doors open. That bit I didn’t mind actually. I tried to convince myself there was nothing to worry about. Every time I did though, I couldn’t help but itch my hand more.
The itch had gotten worse too.
The rash too.
Mom noticed it last night when she came home. I was in the living room reading over the manual Sergeant Phillips had sent. I was sitting on the couch when she came through the door. It was when she came over to kiss my forehead that she saw my hand. She paused for a moment then frowned. She tried to play dumb, of course, then concerned. She did neither really well. She wanted me to go to a Med Center today to get it checked out but after I told her my plans, she got really excited. She practically gushed about the date. She was happy about the whole Sentinel thing too---even if that was fake happiness. She said she’d try to be here to see me off. She wasn’t but I didn’t hold out any hope that she might be.
Thinking about everything made it worse.
As I redressed, I tried to think of other things.
Mainly what my afternoon held.
First, it was the Vid with Maddie. We picked one of the more popular movies to go to. A lot of kids at school had already seen it and the reviews were pretty good. I really wanted to have lunch afterwards, but sadly, I had to go to the Sentinel Center. SC was the Sentinel headquarters. Last night right before turning in for the night, I got a quick message from the Sergeant. Apparently, he wanted to know if I would be free in the late afternoon so he could give me a tour of the facilities.
I’m not sure what excited me more.
The Date.
Or the Tour.
Why was I so nervous, I shouldn’t have been nervous.
Hell, I don’t get nervous.
Ok, so not true but this was Maddie after all. Sure, she was the girl I’d been crushing on for a few years now but we were friends, too. I’m not sure what was going to happen by the end of today but no matter what I’d still be her friend. If this didn’t work, it didn’t work. I wasn’t like Ted. Sure, I liked her a lot but I wasn’t going to get bent out of shape if this didn’t pull through. Of course, I wanted it to work; I’d be a liar if I didn’t say otherwise.
It has to work.
I tried to take my mind off the date as the tram meandered through the tunnels. Looking out the window didn’t help matters in the least, though. There was nothing but dull gray walls as they zipped by in a blur. Occasionally the dull gray was replaced by the blur of neon light but it was rare. I tried to imagine what things must have been like back in the day. My grandfather said when he was a boy; there were trees everywhere. There were birds too, and insects buzzing about. We still had those things, of course, but it was in a more controlled environment. Trees were in the designated park zones. Birds and insects were synthetic like our pets.
It was for sanitation.
It was also about order.
There was a reason a lot of people called the government, “The System”.
The world was like a computer now. The System controlled every aspect of our lives and like good programs we fell in line.
It wasn’t perfect and it definitely wasn’t living.
But it was life.
Whether we liked it or not.
Thinking about what could have been just made me even more depressed. But thinking about the now was making me nervous.
Damn.
I just couldn’t win.
“Nervous”
Joe pipped in my ear.
I groaned. Why in the hell did I tell him about the date to begin with?
“Don’t you have something better to do?”
“Not really”
Usually Joe, Ted and I spent our weekends browsing through the Net at one of our places or playing some new Vid game. Now that Ted was mad at me though, our friendship was strained. Sure, if not for the date, I would have still hung out with Joe but Ted was being a dick. He seemed to be convinced that Joe was in on this whole thing too. So Joe was just as guilty as I was.
Ted could be a real ass at times.
“So you decided to bug me?”
“I’m bored”
I was too but I wasn’t about to admit that.
“You could always pip Ted.”
“He’s not answering.”
“What about Greg or some of your other Net friends?”
Ted and I weren’t Joe’s only friends.
Joe had a gaggle of cyber geeks he hung out with on a regular basis. The only one he ever talked about was Greg, though. Greg was already career placed, an intern at one of the other Zone Com Labs. Joe had never met him but talked about him a lot. In fact, Joe had never met any of them. That’s why Ted and I started to refer to them as his Net friends. They were all Tech Heads like Joe and like Joe; they seemed to live in their own little world.
“They’re off fighting the powers that be”
That was Joe geek talk for his friends weren’t available.
“And so now you’re bugging me.”
“Not bugging just enquiring after your well being.”
I sighed. “Yes I’m nervous. Are you happy now?”
“Really? What’s there to be nervous about?”
I was about to answer when a wave of nausea swept through me. I felt a little lightheaded too. I gripped the seat and let it pass. I’d been feeling this way all morning, actually. It would come and go though. I was chalking it up to nerves. I mean what else could it be. It’s possible it was connected to the rash on my hand but I’d never heard of allergies making you sick too.
“You ok, your vitals went a little wonky there?”
There was genuine concern in Joe’s voice.
I groaned. “Joe, have you hacked my Bio again?”
Joe had this annoying habit of hacking into other people’s Bios. He didn’t do anything bad; he just liked to show off his skill. He was a pretty decent hacker. Hacking into a Bio wasn’t illegal per se, unless of course you did something malicious. There were some pretty nasty Bio Hacks out there. The things that these people could do was pretty sick. A few years ago, a teenager like me had her Bio hacked. The perpetrator was a young hacker in her grade, someone who claimed to be the product of bullying. The girl---who the Vids never named---was a real bitch to him. So he hacked her Bio and tweaked her metabolism. Once a thin girl, the after pictures were pretty startling.
That was a mild hack too.
Some of the other stuff, not so much.
Thankfully, there were now measures in place to stop things like that.
Joe just knew some of the back doors.
“I’ve been in all ours lately. This Manifestation shit is really scary. I’m just looking out for you buddy.”
“Thanks”
Joe was silent for a moment. “Yeah about that…”
Whatever he was about to say was lost in the drone of the Tram conductor. The electronic voice overrode his pip.
“ALL PASSENGERS, WE HAVE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION”
“Joe, I’m here. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait Ben…there’s something wrong….”
“Tell me about it later.”
I severed the connection.
I’m sure he had something long and boring to tell me. Whatever it was it could wait until after my date.
My date.
The nerves started again.
A pip sounded in my ear but I ignored it.
I knew who it was.
I didn’t want him psyching me out anymore.
It was just a shame there was no way to shut off the stupid Bios. Sure, they were really cool most of the time but sometimes you just wanted privacy. With a Bio though, anyone could reach you at any time. Then there was the whole scanning thing. Lots of places had Bio checkpoints set up. Small boxes—sometimes with attendants---that would scan every person as they stepped through. Any abnormalities set off an alarm. If an alarm sounded when you passed through a checkpoint, the rule was to stay calm and wait for the proper authorities.
Then the Silvers swarmed you.
That’s what we called the authorities. Thus named because of the ridiculous silver jackets they all wore.
I couldn’t help but shudder when thinking about being one.
It was a possible life for me if I washed out.
Not happening.
Ever.
“ALL PASSENGERS PLEASE DEPART”
I nearly jumped at the voice in my ear.
See what I mean about privacy.
I sighed heavily, slowly getting out my seat. I stepped aside to allow the old woman behind me to pass before following her out of the tram. In a mass of people, we flooded out onto the tunnel platform. Up ahead, I saw the scanner. Our mass formed into a single file as we slowly made our way toward it. The old woman in front of me gave the box a weary look before she passed on through. She sighed when the alarm didn’t go off. A lot of the times, the elderly set off the alarms. I’m not sure if was their Bios failing, their vitals failing or if it was any number of stims they were on.
Regardless she passed through without a problem.
I took a deep breath when it was my turn.
I’d been feeling a little off all day so I couldn’t help but wonder if I had a cold. If I did and the alarm went off like it sometimes did, I’d be pulled aside. One of those arms would give me a thorough scan then an injection. The viral stim would last until I got a med facility. Of course, I would have to go right away but there was no way I wasn’t going to let something as little as a cold ruin my date with Maddie.
“One moment” said a voice as the scanner passed over me.
This only took a few secs.
They must have detected a fluctuation in my normal pattern.
“I’ve got a bit of a cold I think,” I said.
I felt the prick as something jabbed into my upper arm. Flinching in surprise, I never noticed the arm as it pulled away.
“Make sure you get to a Med center as soon as possible”
I nodded, passing through without further incident.
I walked up the stairs leading into the Mall station.
I think a little rundown of the Metro might be in order now that I’m here. There were several major metropolitan areas in the country, five on the east coast alone. These Metros were broken up into Zones, each had six. I lived in Zone 3. They were all centered around the Cube, blocked off into sections. The only way to pass through each Metro was through the tunnels. Most people used the tram but there were transpo tunnels for cars as well. The mall was in Zone 6. At one time---according to history class---the country had lots of cities and towns. After the XY plague though, the world had a huge upheaval. When the System started to control things, cities became obsolete as the population was smaller than it had ever been.
So the Metros were created.
Then the Zones.
It was all about population control.
Depending on who you were and your occupation, you lived in certain Zones. Maddie, Ted and I were in Zone 3, of course, because our fathers worked in the Engineering Sector. Joe lived in Zone 4 because his parents were in Industrial.
I’m not sure how he turned into a Techie.
Usually Zonies didn’t interact with one another unless we went to the same school. Zones 3 and 4 were together for instance because we were the smallest. Most Zones actually had their own schools. It might seem a little strange to an outsider but it was our way of life.
Whether we liked it or not.
I tried to look like I fit in with the throngs of people zipping around me. Zone Six was all Commercial. It was also the only zone that didn’t actually have anyone living in it.
There were no other businesses in Zone 6 though.
It was all the mall.
It was a large one, too. Over four stories high and claimed to be the most comprehensive shopping center on the East coast. Some of the bigger Metros boasted about having bigger malls but very few could top ours. I’m not sure if that was something to be proud of or not. I’m not even sure why it was needed anymore. Most people did their shopping via their wall Vid screens these days. I guess it was just one of those hold outs. Like movie theaters and restaurants. Man was a social animal after all and to take that away what would that make us. Less than human I suppose.
Like me.
I tried to get my bearings as soon as I stepped out the Zone 3 station.
Already there were tons of people making me really nervous. I hated Z6 for this reason. There were always too many people.
To make matter worse, I couldn’t see Maddie in the crowd at all.
We had agreed to meet at the station but she was either late, I was early or she was swallowed up by all the throngs of idiots around me.
Sighing, I tapped below my ear.
“Bio, display HUD”
A second later, a holographic heads-up-display formed around my head. Looking like a see through motorcycle helmet, the HUD was a feature added to the Bios a few years back. It was a rather convenient way to find whatever it was you were looking for. Like most Bio apps, there were a lot of features you could add to it as well. Mine was a simple as simple could be though. It had several area maps and a Bio locator.
It was all I needed.
“Zone Six” I said, watching as the hologram changed from a featureless screen.
Before me, the map sprang to life, filling in the detail quickly.
The whole of the Zone was laid out before me.
“Locate Madison Sanderson Z3-14-05-56”
We were all designated numbers. As far as the System was concerned, that’s all we really were. It was a little complicated at first to grasp but once you got the hang of it, it was pretty easy. For instance, my number was Z3-14-03-49. Z3 was Zone 3 of course. 14 was my age, 03 designated my standing in the family and 49 was my address. Each year of course the age number would change and when I got old enough, the address would change. When I got married, my designation number would become 01 as well. It was just another one of those little ways that the System could keep track of us.
A blinking green light appeared on my map.
It was moving toward me.
I smiled. “HUD off”
The holographic helmet disappeared.
Gods, I hated those things.
I smiled as Maddie came into view a few moments later. I’m not sure what her dress was made out of, but it shimmered when the light caught it. Her hair was pink today to match it as well. I took a deep breath, feeling the tingling of my nerves coming back. I tried not to think about it but it didn’t seem to help much. In fact, the tingling was a little more intense than before. It was also started to get a little hot, too.
Too hot.
I reached to undo my top button when everything seemed to feel a little heavy.
The room started to sway a little.
Then spin.
“Ben?”
Was someone talking to me?
I tried to focus but everything became a blur.
I heard someone scream though.
Was that Maddie?
I toppled to the ground, ending up on my knees. Everything was hot and spinning. Someone was there next to me, trying to help me up. I looked up to see their face and saw the absolute look of horror on it.
It was the last thing I saw before darkness.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note:So finally got around to writing this chapter. What with moving, unpacking and a bit of a block, I'm back on track with things. I'd like to announce that finally the TG has come into this TG story...took me long enough lol. After carefully thinking it over, I decided to change the original pic to a new one. I hope everyone likes it :) I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my beta readers for their great help.
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5.
BEEP.
BEEP.
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
I gave her the strangest look. How could she not hear it? It was this loud beeping sound, almost like an old school truck backing up. I opened my mouth to tell her about but stopped when I saw the look she was giving me. It was the same look I’d give someone in this situation. Great, my first date and she thinks I’m crazy. Taking a deep breath, I decided to ignore it. I wanted this to go off without a hitch and my date thinking me a nut job was definitely not going to get me another.
I smiled. “It’s nothing, probably nerves”
BEEP.
BEEP.
Nerves my ass.
I ignored it, hoping it would go away.
Instead, I tried concentrating on how beautiful she looked. Her shimmering pink dress, her hair to match. She did something with her makeup and nails too; they seem to glow with an inner light. I’d seen a lot of girls do that lately. It was some kind of luminescent app or something. It made it look like parts of them were glowing. It was actually the makeup but it was kind of cool. It was one of those trends started in the vids; I think it might have even been her sister.
Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to bring that up.
Instead, I just continued to smile.
BEEP.
BEEP.
Damn it.
“I’m really glad we’re finally doing this,” she said, completely oblivious to the noise. “You know I’ve waited so long for you to notice me.”
Notice her? Of course I’ve noticed her, how could I not. She was beautiful. I was just too afraid that I might jeopardize my friendship.
I was about to tell her so but something was different. I stared a few seconds before I realized what it was.
Her hair.
Her long pink locks were now a very shiny black.
“Wasn’t your hair pink before?”
She gave me the strangest look. “Are you sure you’re feeling ok?”
I nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well after you collapsed, I thought for sure they’d take you to a Med Center?”
Collapse? I collapsed?
When did that happen?
This time I gave her one of those looks. I was about to say something about it when I realized that she had changed again. It was height this time. She was taller now, much taller. Alpha tall. Before I could say anything about it, she changed again. Her glowing makeup was gone and her face was different. The girl sitting across from me was suddenly different. Gone was Maddie. In her place was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Long jet black hair, ample breasts, tall athletic body.
Shit an Alpha.
A Super Aphrodite.
Super Aphrodites were what us Jects called the really hot ones.
This girl in front of me was a 12.
BEEP.
BEEP.
“Who are you? Where’s Maddie?”
The girl smiled sweetly. When she spoke, there was something slightly familiar about her voice:
“She’s gone Ben. Who’s to say if we’ll ever see her again?”
“What do you mean gone?”
The girl shrugged. “You know how much she hates Alphas”
BEEP.
BEEP.
“Alphas? What does that have to do with me?”
She smirked. “Everything”
The restaurant was gone. Everyone else around me was gone. The table disappeared a second later and I found myself no longer sitting across from the girl but a mirror. Sure, the girl was still there but she was reflecting back at me. Her smirk was gone, replaced by the biggest look of shock I’d ever seen.
No, I’d seen it before.
It was the same look I gave when I was surprised.
The very same one.
My look.
On this girl.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
My look.
Who.
What.
How.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
I looked up at the girl but the mirror was gone. I was alone. Confused and slightly scared, I felt something. Something off. It was cold too, too cold. It started at feet and moved slowly up my legs. Looking down scared the living hell out of me. Gone were the nice pants my sister bought. My pants were gone, replaced by the very same pink leggings I saw Maddie wearing just moments ago. My shoes were different as well. As I followed the trail of my legs up, I noticed the dress too. Pink just like hers. Then two swelling mounds on my chest. Touching them with my hands just didn’t seem real.
Mine.
They were mine.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
How was this possible?
That’s when I saw it.
On my hand.
Plain as day.
The symbol.
The Alpha Mark.
Shit.
The room started to darken around me. The beeping grew louder, more rapid, too. I felt dizzy and sick. The room spun around and the beeping. It wouldn’t stop. I wanted to scream. I opened my mouth to do so but no sound would come out. Why couldn’t I scream? I fell to my knees, the dress flying up slightly as I did so. I tried crying but no tears. Why did this happen to me? How could this happen to me. The tears finally came then the darkness. It pressed in around me until there was nothing…
I opened my eyes and groaned.
A dream, it was a dream. Groaning again, I guess it made sense. I remember what happened now. I was waiting for Maddie to show for a date. I was in Z6. I clearly remember seeing her with her pink hair and dress, smiling as she came for me. Then things were kind of fuzzy. I think I might have passed out. Rubbing my head, I sat up, blinking as I did so. It was bright here, too bright. I had to close my eyes to get adjusted to whenever I was. As soon as I opened them again, the room was a lot easier to tolerate.
Not my room though.
It was large and circular, also white. Everything was white.
The walls, the ceiling, the floor.
Looking around as I sat up, there were other things I quickly noticed. The first was that my clothes were gone. No, I wasn’t naked. Instead, I was wearing a white skin suit. I looked at my arms, flexing them slowly. There was something different about them, they seemed thinner. As I was flexing my fingers, I took a closer look at the suit. There were only two places where such a suit was needed: either working in a Clean room or being in the hospital. Looking around, I couldn’t help but think I might have been in both.
I tapped my ear. “Bio, HUD”
Nothing happened.
I tapped again, giving the same command but in a louder voice.
Still nothing.
Cursing, I had a pretty good idea where I was.
There was only one place where a Bio was deactivated.
Shit.
I was in the Q.
The Q was short for Quarantine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who they put in there.
Cursing again, I took a closer look at the suit I was wearing. I’d never seen one quite like this before. Sure, I’d worn them before. When I was a kid, I spent a day in the Med after breaking my wrist. They made me wear one of the suits then but I don’t remember it being like this. For instance, that suit had been gray and wasn’t nearly as tight. This one almost felt as if it was surgically attached to my skin it was so tight. I was surprised I could even move in it. There were the lights. They were faint, just under the fabric but there were red lights running the length of my arms and legs. Flexing my arm didn’t seem to change anything either.
I couldn’t help but wonder if they were reading my bio signs somehow.
It would explain one of the reasons my Bio was deactivated.
Trying not to think about it, I decided to get a better look at my surroundings. I slid off the cot I’d been laying on, allowing the rest of my thin blanket to fall to the floor. Ignoring it, I wanted to see if there was a door. I took my first shaky step, not realizing how hard it was until I did so. My legs were very weak and walking didn’t help any. It didn’t help that they looked different too. Like my arms, they seemed more slender. They also looked longer. A lot longer. I knew my body quite well. My legs were by no means short, but like my father, I was more torso than legs. The legs I was looking at were much longer than my own.
Not my legs at all.
Then again, everything about this body felt off.
It was mine but not.
I took a moment to explore it. Legs definitely thinner and longer, arms too. My waist was thinner but my hips were definitely wider. Then there was my chest. I could already see the telltale signs of bumps starting to form. While I reached up to touch one, I found the mark. It was hard not to notice. It was hard to imagine something like that appearing naturally but sure enough, it was there. Of course, it wasn’t a distinctive sign of the woman; it was more of a birth mark that sorta looked like it. Looking at said mark now, I could almost see how it resembled it. There was a circle with a little line facing toward my wrist.
But looking at it closer, it could have been anything.
What it wasn’t though was a mistake.
I cursed.
So I was an Alpha.
Halfway there by the looks of things.
An Alpha, boy was that going to change things. I turned my hand over---looking at the palm---trying to see if it looked any different. It was a smaller hand and my fingers looked a little more slender. My nails had changed though. They were definitely longer than before, not by much, but longer. Looking at my other hand, I noticed the same and sighed. I guess there was no turning back now. Then I cursed, realizing that my name was probably all over the Vids now. New Alphas were always big news for the first few days. I’m just glad they didn’t force us into interviews anymore.
Us.
Me.
Alpha.
I wanted to think of something else, anything else. There was time to ponder the Alpha thing, right now I had other things to worry about. Looking around the room, I went back to the real reason I got off the “bed”. I wanted to see what exactly I was dealing with here.
I knew a little bit about The Q. Whenever a new Alpha was announced, the Vids said that they were taken to the Q to finish their change. It was also said they were put under observation. It was that last little bit that concerned me. If there was observation than there was a way to see into the room. I knew they could technically use the Bio to spy on me but that would only be a one sided view. You know, looking out from my eyes. No there had to be another way to see into the room. I looked up, scanning the ceiling to see if there were any cameras there. I knew all the usual places they might hide those now.
Hey, I did read that Sentinel manual that the Sergeant gave me.
Cameras these days were small. There was always a telltale sign of them though. The lenses were usually hidden in the wall, made to look like other things. An abnormality in the wall for instance or a tiny hole. Scanning the ceiling, I found none of those. So I drew my attention to the walls. Three of them came up duds but the fourth one definitely drew my attention. It looked just any other wall in the room but there was something odd about it.
I walked closer to it, reaching out to touch it.
As soon as my fingers touched the surface, I smiled.
Clever.
I rapped my knuckle against it.
Sure enough, it wasn’t a wall at all.
“Step back please” said a feminine voice which bounced around my empty room for a few moments before dissipating.
I took a step back. “Am I to guess this is my prison?”
“You’re not a prisoner Benjamin”
So they knew my name.
I also knew this wasn’t a prison either but I needed to test these people.
“So when can I leave then?”
“When you’re done”
Another loaded question but another test too.
Asking questions I knew I wasn’t going to get answers to was pointless. Asking questions I knew I might get some kind of answer to was not a waste of time. It told me a couple of things. One they weren’t willing to tell me the whole truth about anything and two, they weren’t keeping things from me either. After all, some of the stuff about Alphas was common knowledge. I knew roughly how long it took for someone to be fully an Alpha. What I didn’t know was how long they were going to keep me here.
“So how long have I been here?”
“Two days”
Another good answer.
Another truth.
Alpha manifestation took a week---common knowledge. Well a week from when the manifestee started to feel the itch. The itch, I don’t think…wait yes. I started to feel it the day of the physical. Did I get infected then? No, not infected, someone didn’t get infected. What I guess I mean is that I did start to manifest then. How long ago was that anyway? Two days? God, why couldn’t I remember something so simple. Well considering that was the first day that this started and I’ve been here 2 days as well, that meant I was at least four days into this transformation.
Four days.
Looking down, I stared at my new budding chest.
Was that four day’s worth of growth?
I reached up to touch them again when I stopped. Feeling myself up was the least of my priorities right now. Staying my hand, I thought of something else.
“How long have I been manifesting?”
There was a pause.
Why was there a pause?
“Three to four days”
So uncertain. They were confused. Why were they confused? Weren’t they the people with all the answers?
Something else just occurred to me then.
“And my parents?”
“They’re nearby. The first few days of manifestation is hard on some families. We usually like to give it a few days before we allow visitors”
I nodded. “Are they here now?”
“Nearby”
“When can I see them?”
No answer.
I asked again, still nothing.
I waited a few minutes before asking again. When I didn’t get answer the third time, I realized the Q&A was officially over.
Sighing, I went back to exploring the room. Unfortunately, walking around staring at the same bare walls got pretty boring after about five minutes. It was clear they just wanted me to sit here like a good little lab rat or whatever. So that’s what I did. I walked back over to my “bed” and sat down. After about ten minutes, I pulled my legs close to my chest, resting my chin on my knees and wrapping my arms around them. It was something I’d seen my sister do. It was also something I did without thinking about it.
After an hour of this, the fake wall started to blink.
Ok, not the whole wall but a small part of it.
A few seconds later, the vid screen there sprang to life.
I guess they didn’t want me to die of boredom after all.
So I spent the next few hours doing something that normal teenagers were supposed to do---I Vid surfed. Of course there wasn’t much on. I surfed all the news channels though, hoping I’d catch something on myself. Strangely, they never once mentioned me. Now that was odd. After getting bored with that, I found their Vid movie library.
Jackpot. It looked like they had every movie of the last century or so. I’d seen most of the modern ones but there were a lot of good ones from back when my grandfather was younger that I browsed through.
After another couple of hours, food arrived.
Sadly, these people didn’t know what food was.
No Dominos here.
Nutri-paste.
Not even the good kind either. It was the dull, gray flavorless crap.
I picked up the bowl of gray glop and tried to stomach spoonful after spoonful of it. Whoever thought of this shit should have been shot. The commercials said it was nutritious and healthy. I’m sure it was but it also tasted like someone scraped it from between their toes. Not that I knew what toe jam tasted like of course. I’m just saying if it had a flavor then Nutri-paste sure cornered the market on it.
After eating, I started to feel a bit tired.
Laying my head down, I thought a little rest couldn’t hurt.
Over the next three days, my life fell into a routine.
Wake up.
Check out my body.
Ask the same stupid questions.
Get the same bland answers.
Watch Vids.
Eat.
Watch more Vids.
Sleep.
The only highlight of my day was checking to see how much I was gone. This morning upon waking, I discovered that there was very little of Ben left now. Whereas yesterday I could look down and see my feet, today I had two nice sized mounds on my chest. Grabbing them produced a great deal of heft. At least a C cup I think. My suit felt a bit tighter too, but it conformed more to my body now. It was quite a body too. From what I could see, I was going to be a real heartbreaker.
I’m not sure what I thought about that.
Pushing my now rather long hair behind my ears, I slid off the cot and did my morning walk around the room. Everything felt a little off now. My center of balance definitely, but the way my body moved too. These new hips of mine had a slight sway to them and I couldn’t help but feel a tad sexy as I walked about. It didn’t help that all my curves were on display. Running a hand down my body sent slight shivers all throughout it.
Great I’ve turned into a perv.
After my “walk”, I found myself in front of the “wall”
I rapped my knuckles against it.
“Rise and shine” I said, noticing the change in my voice.
Well actually, I noticed that yesterday. When I woke up, I found my voice had started to change. It had felt like going through puberty but in reverse. Today however it seemed to stabilize. It didn’t sound all that different but I’m sure it was. I touched my throat and sighed. Just one more change for the list of changes. If I had to guess, I’d say there was maybe ten percent of the old me left. I knew where it was too. I found that out yesterday in the “bathroom”. When I went to the toilet to relieve myself, I found that there wasn’t much left of me to relieve. Meaning that Little Ben was now Baby Ben. Just standing here now I could barely tell anything was there. Well something was still there but it was beyond baby size now. A nub really.
The last of my manhood.
Turning my attention to the wall, I realized that they were being a little slow today.
“Hey what’s up Doc?”
I pounded on the wall this time, hoping it was enough to get their attention. As my palms hit the glass there, I heard It echo. There was something else though too. Something not there yesterday. The wall shook slightly as I banged it. It took me a second to realize what it was. Alphas were stronger than humans. So of course, I was going to shake the wall if I banged on it. I stopped banging to look at my hands, only taking a second to admire my new longer nails. I flexed my fingers and then flexed my bicep. I wasn’t grotesquely muscular but there was muscle there. It was a runner’s physique definitely. I couldn’t help but smile at that.
As a boy, I was a bit of a couch potato.
I wasn’t fat nor was I a skinny twerp but I wasn’t a sports star either.
This body however.
I felt like the sky’s the limit now.
I couldn’t help but smile again.
“Good morning, Miss Carson”
I kinda flinched at the “Miss” part but it was inevitable. There was no boy here, not anymore.
“Hey Doc” I said, still rubbing my throat. “Thought maybe you guys forgot about me today”
I chuckled a bit.
“And how are we doing today?”
I gave a quick rundown on the vitals. She knew all that of course, I was all wired up in this suit after all.
“These are new though,” I said, hefting my new chest accessories. “Not sure how I’m gonna get used to them.”
No comment.
You’d think these people were trained not to have a sense of humor.
We spent the next few minutes going through the usual question and answer routine. She still wasn’t very forthcoming about things.
“So no ETA on me getting out of here?”
“Soon” she said and then added. “We want to run you through some tests over the next few days. After that, we’ll talk about release.”
I nodded.
I’m not sure what I thought about the whole tests thing though.
Was I just a lab rat to these people after all?
I mean what’s the big deal anyway. I was an Alpha now. They’d seen hundreds of like me over the years. It wasn’t like I could glow in the dark or shoot laser beams from my eyes. I was an Alpha just like every other.
“I do have some good news for you” she said, there was a bit of an uplift in her voice when she said it.
A moment later, the Vid screen sprang to life.
I took a step back and a few seconds later, my parents appeared on the screen.
I was actually kind of surprised to see both of them. I think I mentioned more than once how busy the two of them were. Mom with her medical stuff and Dad with his engineering. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen the two of them in one room together. But here they were, standing side by side, actually holding hands no less. They looked like crap too. My parents were those rare people who actually looked their age. Most people---most parents---when they reached their forties, they took pills and had other procedures to look younger. Sure Mom dyed away the gray but other than that they were all-natural.
The pair in front of me looked older.
They were worn and tired. Dad hadn’t been shaving. Mom’s hair was a mess. Both of them looked like a pair who had been under a lot of stress lately.
Stress generated by me no doubt.
Shit.
“Hey guys,” I said, not bothering to hold back the tears.
“Hi sweetheart” said Mom, choking on her own tears.
Dad just stared. When he spoke the first word out of his mouth was “Whoa”
An elbow from my mother fixed that. A more polite greeting followed quickly after.
“Err…hey son”
I laughed. “It’s ok Dad. I haven’t seen my full self yet but from what I can see, I’m definitely a Whoa”
That caused him to smile a bit.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?”
“Bored” I said, causing her to smile a little. “And I miss you guys.
How’s the munchkin?”
“Sad she couldn’t come and missing her big brother…ummm….sister”
I nodded. “It’s ok, Dad. I’m not used to any of this either.”
Dad looked uncomfortable.
I didn’t blame him. I was uncomfortable.
“Honey, I’m sorry this happened. If there was anything….”
I cut her off. “Mom, there is nothing anyone could have done. It’s the way the world works now. Does it suck, sure; but I’ve accepted it. You guys need to accept it as well. My life is different, my body is different but I’m still Ben.”
“About that” said Mom, looking a bit downcast.
I laughed. “So what do I put on the top of my papers now?”
Mom blinked a few times but looked at her feet again.
Dad answered. “Bethany”
Hey, I could live with that.
It was the name of his sister after all. I always kind of liked Aunt Beth.
I nodded. “I think that’s doable”
Mom let out a sigh of relief.
After that, the awkwardness in our conversation fell away. We talked like usual, save for the fact that I was in a giant white room. They had a lot of questions and I answered what I could. Mom really wanted to know how much of her daughter I was now. When I mentioned what was left, Dad winced. I think this was going to be harder on him than me. Sure, it was pretty hard to deal with but to lose my maleness paled in comparison to losing your only son. I can only imagine what that must have been like. Maybe there was a support group or something. Maybe he could talk with Maddie’s dad.
I’ll have to ask when I get out of here.
Our conversation seemed to die down after the questions were over. Mom still asked me some things but it was mainly about trivial stuff. Dad fell quiet a long time ago.
“So did they say when you can come home?”
I shrugged. “The Doc says they want to run tests. As soon as those are done, I think they’ll let me go.”
Mom nodded. She more than anything understood all that.
Dad rubbed the back of his neck.
“You hang in there, son”
“I will Dad”
Then he awkwardly stepped away.
I was alone with Mom now.
I had to know something.
“Has anyone talked to Maddie?”
I’d been thinking about her a lot over the last couple of days. I felt really bad about all this. I hated that this ruined our date and what’s more, probably our friendship. I knew what she thought about her “sister” and what she thought about Alphas in general.
Mom sighed. “I’m sure she’ll come around”
So she had and apparently it didn’t go well.
I guess that’s one more thing to deal with when I get out of here.
Mom and I talked for a few minutes more but it was clear the conversation was done. We said our good-byes; there were more tears, than she was gone. I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by it all though. In the last few years, I think that was the longest conversation the two of us ever had. I guess it takes manifesting to get my parents in a room together and talking.
I tried not to think about it as I got the Vid screen to bring up some movies. Walking back to my cot, I sat and watched for the rest of the day. Trying to distract my mind from my life and my family did help some. As the hours waned and sleep started to creep up on me, I couldn’t help but think of Maddie a little more before lying down. I promised myself to make it right with her.
Convince her I was still me, still human.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Here were are, Ch.6. I meant to have this up last week but it got a bit delayed in my head.As I mentioned in the Note from last chapter and in a blog, I decided to use a different picture to represent Bethany now. I've gotten a lot of positive feedback on her new look :)Oh and kudos to anyone who knows what those numbers and one letter is at the end but if you do know and figure it out, keep it to yourself please. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and my beta readers for their great help.
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6.
“That’s good Bethany,” said the Doc as I finished my tenth rep with the free weights.
I set down the weights and gave her a friendly smile.
She looked up from making something on her pad, smiling as well.
It was kind of strange meeting the Doc face to face after talking to her for several days. It was even stranger to see how young she was. Or rather how young she appeared to be. The way she looked and the way she spoke were two different things entirely. I couldn’t help but wonder if this pretty blonde twenty-something was actually my Mom’s age or older. I mean it was pretty amazing what surgery could do these days. In a world where people could turn into idolized super beings, superior in every aspect, it was no wonder normal humans would try to compete.
I say try because there was no way they could look as good as Alphas.
As good as us.
I groaned at that thought. Here I had only been an Alpha for a few days and I was already thinking myself better than humans. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let that happen. Sure I knew Alphas were inherently better in every way but I wasn’t going to get a big head over it. I needed to be myself.
I needed to be human.
“Try the five hundred pound one next,” said the Doc giving me a friendly smile.
I moved down the rack of weights, grabbing the one she suggested.
Sure the two of us were becoming a bit friendly with one another but not really friends. I had to keep reminding myself that they weren’t here to make friends with me. The Doc and her silent companions were monitoring, making sure I was everything I could be before releasing me back to the world. If we had been real friends, she would have stopped all this and let me go. She would have also given me her name. She didn’t even flinch when I kept referring to her as Doc meaning she didn’t really care to be my friend. She was being friendly simply because it was her job.
I started to curl it, surprised at my own strength.
So far this morning I had aimed to please.
The Doc was thrilled.
Her companions were thrilled too.
I couldn’t help but sense there was something wrong though, too.
Yesterday while I was doing the written part of my tests, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched. I mean I know they’re watching me but it felt like there were a lot more eyes on me. The test itself was kind of easy. In fact, there were several of them. They ranged from different subjects too. Many of the subjects I had no idea what they were, but for reason as soon as I set out to work on them, I was able to comprehend things rather quickly. When I announced I was done, I thought I heard a bit of surprise in the Doc’s voice.
I was an Alpha; I was supposed to be smart.
So why was she so surprised?
I noticed something today too. It was when I was on the treadmill. A couple of her silent buddies kept giving me these looks. At first, I thought they were perving on me but it was more than that. They kept looking at me and then jotting down furious notes on their pads. I think they thought they were being discreet but spies they were not. What’s more, every time I finished a test and they saw my results, they raised their eyebrows slightly.
It made me wonder if I was doing something wrong.
Thinking about it now just made me more concerned.
“You can stop now Bethany,” said the Doc.
I hadn’t really been paying attention but I think I curled the dumbbell about fifty times.
Fifty times with five hundred pounds.
That was fucking crazy.
Even crazier because I felt I could do more.
I knew Alphas were strong but I never realized they were this strong.
I stopped curling and replaced the weight on the rack. I moved onto the next one only to find that I was at the end.
The Doc was staring at me strangely again.
“Good work, Bethany,” she said, though there was something in the tone of her voice that made me think she didn’t mean it.
I looked around quickly.
All eyes in the room were on me.
I rubbed my hands together.
“What’s next?”
“Next?”
I nodded. “You guys have been testing me for two days now. I’ve been poked, prodded, pinched and scanned. I’ve taken every written test known to man. I’ve run on your treadmills, I’ve benched weights, curled weights. I’ve done dozens of pushups, chin-ups, sit ups and any other up I can think of. You’ve run me through my paces. Are we done now or do you want me to write the great American novel now?”
Ok, so their stares were bothering me.
And I was cranky.
The looks I was getting now were even more annoying. They disappeared quickly. That didn’t stop them from frustrating me more. It was clear that I perplexed them but I was no different than any other Alpha. So what was the big deal?
The Doc spoke after a few moments of silence. “We’d like to give you another physical before we dismiss you.”
Dismiss me?
I groaned. “No”
She raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think you’re in a position to argue”
I smirked. “I’ve played your games, jumped through your hoops. I’m done. I WANT to go home now!”
So I raised my voice a bit in the end. I don’t give a damn.
This charade of theirs was over.
I’m going home.
The Doc took a step back. It took me a second to realize I was clenching my fists. I sighed, letting out a deep breath before relaxing. Losing my temper was not the answer. Getting angry wasn’t the answer either. Once she saw I had calmed down some, she took a step forward. She gently put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Then she turned to the others.
“We’re done here. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
This time I was surprised. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “There might be a follow up but there’s nothing more we can learn from you here.”
I was so happy I could have kissed her.
I settled for a hug instead.
I was going home.
“You can’t be serious?”
After it was designated that I could actually go home, The Doc raided their meager wardrobe and presented me with an outfit that would fit my new curves. Unfortunately, for me, they really didn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully, they got me a pair of jeans and a shirt. Not so thankfully was the fact that the jeans were so tight they literally felt a part of my skin and the shirt---if you can call it that---was nothing more than a few strips of cloth. Ok it was a little more than that but it showed a lot of cleavage and exposed both my midriff and back.
The only good thing about all this was the fact that I actually got a look at my body.
For the past few days---nearly a week now---I’d been hidden in that V Suit.
Now I got to see the real me.
Oh FYI, fully girl now.
I lost Little Ben the day after my talk with my parents.
I got a chance to see all of Beth when I was stripping out of the V suit earlier. I thought I’d feel different about the whole thing. I thought I’d feel the least bit turned on but there was nothing. Of course, it wasn’t the first naked female body I’d seen. My grandfather used to tell me that nudity was a bit of a taboo when he was growing up. That though girls readily exposed their breasts in public that the lower part of their anatomy was always covered. It was interesting what a few decades did. Not that girls walked around naked or anything but nudity was no longer something to be shunned. It helped that there was no real religion around to enforce the whole “nudity is a sin” mentality that a lot of people back in the day had.
Sure, there was still church. But after the plague and society’s restructuring, religion took a serious backseat to actual progress. We no longer relied on the All Powerful to tell us what to do. It also helped that the Middle East imploded all over themselves. After the plague, great wars broke out there. They literally wiped one another out. The holy cities were leveled, thousands of years of history lost. Our new world decided to leave all of that where it was---in the past.
Religion was now a private matter.
People were now allowed to express themselves however they wanted.
So nudity was no longer something to be afraid of.
Not that I was prepared to adapt such a policy.
“You don’t have anything else?”
I turned to Deena, looking with pleading eyes.
Oh yeah, The Doc’s name was Deena. She said since I was no longer confined to this place that it was all right if she finally gave me her name. Dr. Deena Chambers, MD, PhD, and all that blah blah. Surprisingly I’d been wrong about her age too. She wasn’t some forty year old trying to look twenty. She was actually twenty-two just really smart. She was something of a savant apparently. A kid genius who went through school early enough that she had her MD at age 12. Though she didn’t say so and I didn’t ask, there was possible genetic engineering involved. Though technically illegal, genetics was something that a lot of richer parents did to give their kids an edge.
Especially in an age where Alphas existed.
“I’m sorry about the top, it’s all there was but the pants aren’t so bad.”
It was kind of weird hearing her talk casually to me now. Before she’s been all strict and stern and official. I guess when whoever wasn’t looking; she could finally let her hair down. Literally too. Before her blonde locks were down up in this weird updo some girls liked; now they were dwon and flowing around her shoulders. That alone made her look so much younger. I noticed her glasses were gone too.
All in all, a very pretty girl.
Woman.
And sadly, I wasn’t attracted to her anymore.
I’m not sure what to think about that.
“You think I can have a mirror?”
It was kind of funny but I’d been here a week or so and still no mirror. It might be one of those things you don’t think about but when you don’t see your own reflection every day, it’s kind of weird. Deena gave me a strange look until she realized their error.
“Sorry about that” she said innocently. “We wanted to make sure the full change was through before showing you the final result. In the past, they used to keep a mirror present but they found in some cases, the new Alpha reacted badly to the changes in his or her new body”
She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning toward the false wall.
She tapped something on her tablet.
A second later, the vid screen there turned to a reflective surface.
I’d seen something similar in my sister’s bedroom.
Me, I just used an old mirror that belonged to one of my distant relatives.
Deena stepped away from the wall mirror to allow me to get a full look at myself. I took a step forward and my mouth dropped open.
Gone was the gawky, slight, tall teenage boy.
In his place was a Goddess.
Tall.
Long Black Hair.
Gorgeous Face.
Perfect Curves.
Athletic build.
An Alpha.
An Aphrodite.
Hell a Super Aphrodite.
This was me.
I took another step closer to the mirror, the girl in it reflecting my same movements. When I touched my face, she did as well. When I ran my fingers through that long, straight raven black hair, she did the same. It was kind of freaky. It was even freakier to think that this absolutely gorgeous person was in fact me. Another step closer and I saw that I was still slightly there. There were some similar features like my hair. Her face looked a bit like Mom’ too---that is if my mother had thousands of dollars worth of reconstructive surgery to look super hot. Not that Mom wasn’t beautiful; it’s just that she was just pretty.
There was something else too.
This girl had my eyes.
No, that’s not right. I had my eyes.
I couldn’t help but smile at that.
When I smiled though something else twigged about my new reflection. I’d seen this girl before. It only took me a few seconds to remember where, too.
The dream.
The girl in the mirror was the girl in the dream that Maddie had changed into.
Shit.
“Kind of shocking huh” said Deena as she appeared in the mirror behind.
For the first time, I noticed how short she really was.
Or how tall I was now.
“How tall am I?”
“Seventy four inches”
Shit. Six Foot Two.
I was barely five eight before. Which was kind of tall for a fourteen year old, I think.
Thinking about my age gave me another slight pause. I looked a little closer and smirked. I’d seen my share of fourteen-year-old girls and there was no way in hell that I passed for one anymore. I was about to ask her about it when I remembered what we learned about Alphas. When someone became an Alpha, they became an idolized form. So young, beautiful, strong etc. The girl in the mirror---me---looked about eighteen.
Damn that was going to be hard to get used.
Not that any of this was going to be easy.
This was me now.
This was Beth.
“Hi” I said softly to myself.
I took a step away from the mirror and turned sideways, letting my ego take over a tad bit. I suppose as far as Alphas go, this new me wasn’t so bad. It was a common misconception that all Alphas were alike. When in reality, there were several different kinds. Or to put it more simply, your Alpha life was partially reflected on who you were before. Sure, an overweight guy won’t turn into an overweight Alpha but he’ll have the same tendencies he had prior to it all. Take Maddie’s brother for instance. He was always really big in theater at school. It was no big shock that he became an actress after the change. Just like if you were a computer geek like Joe, you’d still be an adept computer geek as an Alpha as well.
Me, I’m not sure what I was before.
I just existed I suppose.
Looking at the new me, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of impact she’d make on the world.
Who was I now?
I looked like an athlete but so did all the other Alphas.
I was beautiful now too but so were all the other Alphas.
I didn’t feel any smarter but knew I probably was.
In fact, I didn’t really feel any different.
I just looked different.
“You all right?”
I nodded. “Just wondering what kind of person I’m going to be now?”
Deena gave me a look. It was the one she and her colleagues had been giving me the last several days now.
When she spoke, the look was gone replaced by a smile. “You can be whoever you want to be”
I scuffed. “Except Ben”
She laughed. “That might be a little hard now”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little, too. It hurt some too. Ben was gone, never to be seen again. Sure, I was still me but the Ben Me was no more. I’d be Beth for the rest of my life now. I’m not sure how I felt about that actually.
“So, how about we get you discharged?”
Whatever I was feeling about my old self was lost in that instance.
Discharged.
I was going home.
FINALLY.
“Are you ok, honey?”
I nodded, not sure what else to say.
Honestly, I was far from ok but I didn’t want Mom to worry. It was strange enough that I was her son now daughter and my life was going to be completely different now. It was going to be extremely hard now too. When my going home was discussed a few days ago, the idea of me going to The Cube was the biggest thing on everyone’s plate. Sure, ninety-nine percent of the Alphas lived there but there were others who lived with the Jects. I talked with Deena and my mother about it for a few hours, trying to decide what was the best course of action for me.
Deena thought The Cube was.
Mom thought I should try home.
Me, I was on the fence.
Both places held pros and cons but I wanted some time to decide. I also wanted to see if I could give my old life a shot. I guess I just wasn’t ready to give Ben up.
So I decided on going home.
The closer we got to our destination, however, the more I was regretting such a decision.
“You think this was right?”
“Going home you mean?”
I nodded. “I know this is what you wanted and I think it’s what I want too but I’m just not sure how everyone is going to react.”
Everyone being our neighbors, my friends, even some of my family.
Everyone also meant Maddie.
“Honey, in the end no one but you can make this decision. That’s why Deena and I discussed it with you at such length. If you feel you can’t handle it at home then we’ll get you a place in The Cube.”
By me, she meant me.
Mom and Dad were staying home.
I guess that didn’t surprise me in the least. I just couldn’t help but wonder who was going to take care of the squirt while they were working.
“I know Mom and I’m sorry I’m causing such a mess of things.”
Mom reached over from the “driver’s” seat and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Ben…th, you’re not a burden. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her messing up my name.
I decided to think about it as the car sped ever closer to home. Unfortunately, I didn’t get much time to do so as our street came into viewing. Cursing, I never realized how close The Q was to our Zone. I’d only been to Zone 2 a few times and only to the building that Mom worked in. It just never really occurred to me that The Q would be located there too and that it was only about a ten-minute ride from there to our actual house.
I was that close to home this whole time.
Mind-boggling.
We pulled into the garage a minute later. I watched as Mom went through the routine to shut the car down then opened the door. I took a deep breath before stepping out of the vehicle. Thankfully, it was the middle of the day so my sister was still at school. Dad was at work too so Mom and I got the house all to ourselves. When she led the way through the garage door into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but realize that nothing had changed.
Nothing except me.
“You want something to eat, honey?”
I shook my head as my Mom gave me a sympathetic smile.
Without thinking, she walked over and gave me a tight hug.
“Everything is going to be ok. I promise.”
I nodded. “I think I’m gonna go up to my room and crash for a bit. Want to check some of my mail and things.”
I’m sure I had a lot of it too.
I literally disappeared off the face of the planet over the last week or so. It didn’t help that my Bio had been off since then. Deena only got the permission to have it reactivated this morning. Sadly, I hadn’t been allowed to access it until a few minutes ago. As soon as I did, there were several beeping messages and other nonsense. I ignored them at the time but now, the flashing indication in my left eye was starting to annoy me.
I started for the stairs when Mom stopped me for a moment.
“Later, we need to talk about some things.”
I nodded.
I had a pretty good idea what.
Going to my room felt kind of strange.
I felt strange, too.
Like an Outsider.
I stopped in the doorway, staring at what had been my Mecca for all fourteen years of my life. I sighed as I realized how minimalistic I’d been. I had my bed and my desk but like I said before, there was little of anything else. Unlike my friends, I wasn’t one of those kids who liked to plaster the walls with moving posters or set their walls to constantly change colors every few days. I like my blue walls; I liked the little non-moving prints. I liked having this place just the way it was. Now however it felt kind of bland. Sure my taste hasn’t changed but it just felt like something was missing.
Yeah, me.
I walked in and dropped on the bed. I lay there for a few before deciding to tackle the mail.
Most of it was junk, spam.
There was a frantic message from Mom, must have been around the time I collapsed on my date. Then several from kids from school, all spanning over the course of a few days. I had a couple from my teachers too. All of those were pretty standard. It was the ones from my friends that seemed to draw my attention or friend as in singular. All the friend messages were from Joe. At first, he sounded a bit annoyed that I wasn’t replying then he became a bit concerned until finally it was like I was dead or something.
I think the more concerned ones came when the Bio was deactivated.
The frantic nature of his voice showed in those.
I had about a hundred message in all.
But not the one I wanted.
Damn Maddie.
After going through the mess, I thought about beeping her. Then thought against it. I knew what she thought about Alphas, I knew how she was going to react. I’ll catch her later at school. Maybe I can try to talk some sense into her before she turns me into a complete pariah.
My yawning broke my thoughts.
Crap tired already.
I rolled over, fluffing a pillow before trying to get some sleep. I don’t remember drifting off but I must of because the next thing I knew, there was a pip in my ear. I tried to ignore it but when you did that the noise only got louder. Sighing, I sat up and tapped below my ear.
“This better be important,” I groaned.
At first, there was nothing. Then I heard it.
Faint then growing louder.
Until…
44414e474552
It was repeated over and over again.
That same string of numbers and one letter.
What the hell?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
-----
Author's Note: And We're Back! Sorry for the massive delay, I was stumped then bored then stumped again but now things are back on track. This one is a little short but I hope to make up for that as the story progresses :) I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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7.
44414e474552.
What the hell did it all mean? Was someone pranking me? Or was it just some random spam that tends to pop up every once in a while. There were supposed to be filters for those kinds of things but spammers were getting better at bypassing them. I would have to ask Mom about it. Though there was another explanation.
Joe.
Though he’d never done anything like it before, I wouldn’t put it past him in the least to spam me with crazy numbers.
I had half a mind to pip him now and chew him out.
I wasn’t ready for that yet.
I wasn’t ready for any of my friends yet actually.
Especially Maddie.
The numbers could wait though.
Sighing, I pushed myself off the bed. I felt more refreshed now than ever. Ok so not totally true but I couldn’t lie there anymore. I needed to do something, anything. I know I told Mom I just wanted to veg but I’d been doing that for the last couple of weeks. Hell, I’d been doing that for the last fourteen years. I needed to get out and do something. Actually “need” wasn’t the right word, more like “want”. I wanted to get out and do something. I thought back to the tests and the activities they’d been making me do. The exercising. I was never really a fitness nut before but now I felt like a run.
I looked down at myself.
I wasn’t exactly dressed for one though.
Walking over to the wall screen, I stopped to think. What site did Carrie use to buy me clothes?
Groaning, I turned on the screen. I pressed a button, bringing up the intercom.
The Vid came to life, showing my mother in her office.
She was at her desk, working on the console interface there.
“Mom?”
She flinched for a sec. “Honey, you startled me.”
I bit my lip. “Sorry but I need some help.”
She looked concerned. “Is something wrong?”
I nodded. “I want to go for a run but I have nothing to wear.”
She gave me this strange look.
Hey, it’s not like I’ve grown a second head or something.
“A run?”
“Yeah, you know. Around the block, maybe to the park. Something.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I shrugged. “I need to get out of the house, Mom. Sitting around is making me feel all itchy.”
She smiled at that.
It was actually true now that I thought about it. Just standing around was making my skin tingle a bit. I’m not sure how to describe it. I was never much of a physical person before. Sure, I was in shape for the most part but I wasn’t a crazed fitness nut though. Now I felt like I needed to run, that I needed to flex my muscles and keep my body doing something. Maybe it was some compulsion buried deep down inside before. Something that my new Alphahood is bringing to the surface.
Great, now I’m Wonder Woman.
Or something.
“You want me to help you pick out something to wear then?”
“Well seeing as I’ve only been a girl for a little while, I don’t exactly know what to do .Besides, nothing I own from the past will fit anymore.”
I could see Mom trying to suppress her smile.
Yeah, laugh it up.
I tried to show her how cross I was with a look but I’m not sure she was buying it. In the end, I just gave her an annoyed one in response.
“It depends on what you’re looking for honey” she started and we began.
I quickly ruled out the whole sports bra and tight little shorts thing.
There was no way in hell I was doing that.
I don’t care if I had the body for it.
In the end---after much deliberation---we settled on the combination of gray running tank top and black running tights. I wasn’t too happy about how tight they looked but I’d deal with it. We got some good running shoes too. My new clothing items arrived a few minutes later. Mom wanted to help me to make sure I didn’t mess things up but I turned her down. I was fourteen; I didn’t need my mother to help me dress.
Though if there was one thing about this whole girl thing I was never going to get used too, it was the damn clothes.
Why the hell did everything have to be so tight?
I managed to get both the pants and the top on but damn, it felt like my entire body was being squeezed.
Ok, so a little overdramatic but still much tighter than my old clothes.
I did like the way they felt though.
Male clothes were rough to the touch.
These were soft and actually comfortable.
I could move a lot better in them too.
This body was a whole lot more flexible too. I liked the way I could bend and stretch. Nothing at all like my male body. I couldn’t help but smile a bit about that.
Did I still want my male body back?
HELL YES.
Seeing as that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon though---never in fact---I’d just have to deal with it.
As I was putting on my new shoes, there was a light tap on the door. Not even bothering to turn my head, I knew it was Mom.
“Wow” she said softly.
I laced up and turned slightly. “It’s not too much is it?”
I turned this way and that, looking myself over as I did so.
It was hard to believe that all of this was me now.
“Do you think it’s too much?”
“I don’t really have a choice now do I?”
I’m not sure when the tears started but the next thing I knew, Mom was hugging me.
This whole thing sucked.
Plain and simple.
Mom held me for a while, let me cry it out. It was kind of nice actually. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever held me this long. Not to say Mom was a horrible parent, just not a very attentive one. When I finally finished and we pulled apart, there was this pained look on her face. It was only there for a moment but I think it might have been regret.
“You can stay here with me you know. You don’t have to run if you don’t want to?”
I shook my head.
I needed to run.
I started stretching. “I have to do this Mom. I’ll be back in an hour or so I think.”
“Ok honey, just be careful.”
Careful?
Careful of what?
“I will, Mom.”
When I was younger, Grandpa used to take me to the park. He used to bring me to this little fitness area and we’d spend hours there. He used to regale me with stories about the park when he was a kid. His childhood parks were a great deal different than mine, of course. They used to be much bigger and there was a lot of green. They were more for recreational purposes back then, a sense of bringing some bit of nature into large cities and towns. We learned a lot of that stuff in history class; of course, most of it was pretty watered down.
Grandpa always used to have much better things to teach me.
Sadly, our parks were far from his
Sure they were still about bringing nature in, but I think it was more for a practical purpose than anything else. You couldn’t even really call them parks. Sure there was grass and trees but much like the grass in our own yards, it was well manicured and sectioned off. There were only small sections of it here and there and all well within control. Each Zone had their own park, each one the same size, the same layout. The small fitness area where I played as a kid was still there---unchanged. There was also a tiny picnic area with vintage benches and things. In the center they even had a fountain though the water was holographic. Using real water for something so trivial was a waste in this day and age. My grandfather used to say that the artificial didn’t make it feel like nature anymore. Sure it was real grass and real trees but everything else was fake.
The birds, the small animals.
All synthetic.
Even the flowers were some kind of synthetic nano-creation.
All fake.
All within control.
I tried not to think about it as I ran. I tried to think about little as I made my second or third lap around the bike path.
Sure there was a track that I could run on but that meant going to the school. I wasn’t ready to go there yet. At least, not until tomorrow. Mom and dad had pulled a lot of strings to get me there. Of course, they wanted me to go The Cube. My parents were able to convince the government to give me a chance. I wanted to be as normal as possible. Part of that normality meant returning to the same routine as before. My gender might be different, I might be different but I still wanted to prove to people that I was still me.
Still human.
On my fifth time around the path, I noticed the company.
It was hard not to.
I’d seen the four of them approach. I tried not to pay attention at first. They were a group of guys from my school. John Kingston and some of his buddies from the Free Ball team. What’s Free Ball you ask? Well think of old school football and basketball, remove the court and field and put it in a large domed room. Then remove the gravity. That’s Free Ball. It was the only sport authorized by the Metro government. Our school was pretty good apparently. Not that it really took much skill to play. I mean a monkey could strap on those shoes and go floating around like that.
One didn’t dare call a Baller a monkey, though.
Well not unless you wanted to keep your smile.
John wasn’t a bad guy I guess. We didn’t run in the same circles so I didn’t really know him all that well. His father was a Supervisor---a low man on the government totem pole. In fact, he was the Supervisor of Zone 3. John was a bit of school royalty because of it. He never used that to his advantage though. He did like to show off though. He was after all the closest thing to an Adonis that our school could muster.
For a Ject anyway.
I heard them before I saw them.
The five of them were trying to catch up with me. They started at a steady pace first. After about ten minutes, they started on a little faster. Five minutes after that, I could hear the heavy footfalls. Thanks to my biological enhancements---better sight, hearing---that kind of thing, I could tell they were really trying. Mark Rogers got close, I could hear him huffing and puffing behind me. He kept that pace for a whole minute or so before falling back. Sam and Greg Hodge---the Wonder Twins---lost the race a few laps beforehand. Frank West fell out a minute or so before Mark, leaving John the lone man to try to impress me.
That’s what they were doing after all.
Five idiots trying to show the Alpha girl that they were cool enough to hang with her.
So far, John was the only one who seemed to be doing ok.
I could feel him waning though.
After another lap, I finally felt the burn.
I took stock at where the Ballers were currently collapsed and made a beeline for a bench about twenty feet from them. I was feeling pretty good after my run. My blood was pumping, my heart was pounding and I felt great.
No, I felt alive.
I was also feeling something else.
Something foreign.
I began stretching, using the bench as I perched one of my legs on it and slowly started to lean forward. As I did, I couldn’t help but notice that five pairs of eyes watched me the whole time.
Something stirred inside.
Something new.
Something overpowering.
Pride.
I felt proud that they saw me.
I was proud that these guys saw something when they looked at me.
Them looking made my heart pound even faster.
I finished stretching a moment later. John took that as his cue to approach.
It was a bold move on his part.
He slicked back his sweat drenched blonde locks and slowly made his way over.
As he approached, I couldn’t help but size him up. I could see why a lot of the girls in school saw him as a “prize”. He was well fit for a Ject. His biceps bulged, his muscles well formed in the thin t-shirt that currently clung to his body. Something else bulged too. I felt a bit repulsed by that but embarrassed too. A bit scared as well. Even more scared when I found myself looking. I was a guy, I shouldn’t be looking there.
No Beth.
Not a guy anymore.
Shit.
“Hey” he said, starting to stretch like I’d been doing only moments before. “You’re pretty fast”
“I know.”
It was my attempt at a brush off but I have no idea what I’m doing.
Double Shit.
“I’m John,” he said with one of his prize winning smiles.
“That’s nice”
Come on take the hint.
“You’re an Alpha right?”
All I could do was nod.
“That’s really cool,” he said with another smile. “We don’t see too many around these parts. You live nearby?”
I sighed. This guy wasn’t going to go away.
I took the hip bag from around my waist. It was another one of our quick purchases. It was attached to a thin belt, hanging on my hip like it belonged there. I unzipped it, taking out my water bottle before leaving it sitting on the bench. I took a quick swig of water before speaking.
“A couple of blocks away.”
That seemed to surprise him.
“Not in The Cube?”
“Nope”
Go away please.
“So does that mean you go to my school?”
Oh shit he was hitting on me or trying too. This kind of tactic might work on normal girls---Ject girls---but with an Alpha, he was out of his league.
I think he knew it too.
When he stopped stretching, I couldn’t help but smirk.
John was tall, a good physical specimen of the Ject race. Blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled looks.
The best that he could offer.
But still a Ject.
A Ject who was a whole head shorter than me.
This guy used to intimidate me in gym class. He never went out of his way to do so of course because like I said “Good Guy” but I was always afraid of him. He was the kind of guy who had a presence. Everyone flocked to him, girls drooled all over him, people opened doors for him. That kind of thing. The complete opposite of me.
Well the old me.
Now though I couldn’t help but smirk.
“What’s so funny?”
I was still amused when I spoke. “Thinking about something from before.”
“Before what?”
“Before all this” I said, waving my hands up and down my body.
He looked confused.
Time to break his precious heart.
“Where do you think Aphrodites come from John?” He gave me a clueless look. I decided to cue him in. “We’re guys, John, or at least we used to be. I’ve only been a girl for about a week or so, John. How does that make you feel?”
He stood there dumbfounded.
His friends must have been close enough to hear our conversation because they started to laugh.
I wanted to laugh too but that would have been cruel.
Instead, I patted his shoulder gently. Touching him made my skin tingle which I didn’t like in the least. Being close to him like that made something else tingle too. That scared me. I knew that this was a possibility but I wasn’t going to let it. I took a step back and brushed past him, leaving him standing there with his mouth open, contemplating my words. As I walked by the table with his friends, I couldn’t help but rub it in a bit.
“See you at school tomorrow boys”
I put a slight sashay in my step as I started walking away.
I got about ten feet or so, when I was greeted by more numbers. As soon as they popped up on my HUD, I froze.
54 68 61 74 20 77 61 73 20 63 72 75 65 6c.
What the hell was going on?
I snapped around quickly, my pulse racing. I looked at John and his friends. John was back at their bench, his friends were still laughing at him. He was still a little dumbfounded. I looked from them to the rest of the people in the park. There was a group of small children playing, their mothers nearby. There was an elderly couple on one of the benches, too. Nothing out of the ordinary. I scanned the rest of the area. The only thing that seemed out of place was a silver sedan. I’d noticed it on my run. Was it there as I started or did it show up after?
I tried to remember but after John showed up, I lost interest in it.
Shit.
Staring at it though made my heart beat a little faster.
Maybe I was being paranoid but I wasn’t going to take a chance.
I started to move away when there was a commotion. John apparently recovered. He was watching me but more than that, he was watching the car, too. He shouted something. I think he must have picked up on my apprehension because he seemed to notice that the car had been there a while too. He started to make his way toward it when the car quickly took off.
Ok that wasn’t suspicious or anything.
I wanted to stick around to say thanks but I was already unnerved enough.
Instead, I turned and started to run.
John shouted something.
I was almost home before I realized I’d left my hip pouch behind.
Damn.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
-----
Author's Note: Here's Ch.8, not a lot of stuff happens here. I like to refer to this as the "School Ch." as you'll see. There are some good interactions here but it doesn't really progress the story much. Chs. 7,8, and 9 are ones that I needed to write so that I could finally get back into the real story in Ch.10. So bear with me a little longer and I promise things will get going again :) I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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8.
“Definitely that one”
I couldn’t help but groan as I looked into the mirror. Carrie was sitting on the bed behind me, coaching me as it were. Her words not mine. Out of the two girls currently in the room, she was the only one who was really enjoying herself. She was practically overflowing with giddiness. Me, I was a total fucking wreck. According to her, this outfit was crucial. Making a first impression was ideal for my social well being. True, but who said I wanted to make one. I was still me and nothing was going to change that. Not even little sisters who mean well. Though I could see where she was coming from. After all, it’s not every day that your older brother has a spontaneous gender change and you need to coach him on how to be a girl.
Ok so not really spontaneous.
“Light blue is not my color”
I peeled off the tiny shirt quickly and tossed it into the growing pile already growing on the floor.
Carrie started to pout. It was a ploy of course.
I knew that look all too well.
I also knew from experience that it wasn’t going to work.
“That didn’t work on me before what makes you think it will now?”
“You’re my sister now. I figured all those stupid boy genes were gone for good and you’d start to appreciate my plight.”
I had to give her credit.
“Sorry, different wrapping, same cream filling.”
After coming home from my run yesterday, I was immediately met by the highest squeal I’d ever heard in my entire life. Apparently, while I was out, Carrie returned home from school. I got barely two feet into the house before I was bum rushed by a bundle of energy. She nearly tackled me to the ground. When I finally was able to pry her off me, she never shut up. She was rambling a mile a minute, telling me everything that the two of us could do together. I’d never seen her like that. For the rest of the night I couldn’t go anywhere without her following me with a goofy smile. According to Mom, Carrie was thrilled about all of this. Well, that made one of us.
I needed to go easy on her though.
Humor her.
Mom’s words not mine.
I guess when you’re son becomes a daughter, it’s ok to be a parent again.
No, I’m not bitter.
Just annoyed.
So I took Mom’s advice. When I woke up yesterday morning, I found Carrie waiting. She was overflowing with excitement. Apparently she was bound and determined to “make me a real girl”. Her first order of business was to help me pick out the perfect outfit for school. I was a bit confused to say the least. Especially when I realized I was getting up two hours before I usually did and strangely two hours before I set my alarm for last night.
“Try the green one again,” she said happily.
I sighed, digging through the pile.
Where did all these clothes come from you ask? Well yesterday, a day I thought I was going to have to recuperate and be myself turned into Carrie’s day. After forcing me away, she dragged me to the mall. We could have easily done all our shopping right from home but she insisted. We spent the better part of several hours going from store to store. It was by far one of the most embarrassing moments in my life. There’s a reason I like to shop from home. After our marathon clothes run, we ended up getting the everyday basics a girl might need. I’m not going to bore you with the details. When we got home, I thought we were done but remember how I said Carrie wanted to teach me how to be a girl. Well, we did that for the rest of the night.
Nails.
Hair.
Makeup.
Proper Hygiene.
I’m a real girl now.
I turned back to the mirror and tried not to think about the goddess staring back at me. The one in the pink satin bra.
Me.
“It’s not fair you know,” she said as I pulled the shirt over my head.
“What’s not?”
“You got boobs”
If I was drinking something, I would have totally just spit it all over the mirror.
“Carrie, you’re eight”
“Julie is starting to bud”.
She crossed her arms and started to pout. For real this time.
“Julie’s clearly cheating.”
Julie was one of Carrie’s BFFs. Her Mom worked with ours. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Julie was getting a little help. Some girls popped pills to help them develop. When I was Carrie’s age it wasn’t as common but it was starting earlier and earlier. Though not illegal per se, the government was starting to crack down on it more and more. There were studies that showed that developing at a young age---especially through artificial means like that---had adverse health effects. Sure Julie might be fine now but come her thirties she was going to be a load of hurt.
There was no way in hell Mom would ever let Carrie do something stupid like that.
Thank the Maker.
“You’ll get there,” I said, hoping it was the right thing.
This girl thing.
Whole new territory.
This conversation.
FUCKING AWKWARD.
Carrie smiled. She jumped off the bed and wrapped herself around me.
Another hug.
“I’m glad you’re my sister now”
Well that makes one of us.
A few moments later, she broke the hug and pulled back. She gave me a strange look and shook her head.
“No that one is definitely not it. Try the blue one again”
“You understand the delicate situation I’m in here right, Miss Carson?”
I still couldn’t help but flinch slightly at the “Miss” thing.
But I understood the situation all too well.
Hell, I was living it.
I nodded. “I know the situation sir. I see it every time I look in the mirror”
Mr. Henry looked a little uncomfortable. I guess I couldn’t blame him. He was a good guy, of course, but it was hard to fathom of a lot of these things. Sure Alphas were a part of our everyday lives now but dealing with them didn’t make things any easier. Especially for him. Technically speaking, I wasn’t supposed to be here. I as an Alpha now, I was supposed to be in The Cube. I was supposed to going to Cube school or whatever the hell they called it. I was supposed to be someone else’s problem. I couldn’t expect him to understand or even know how to deal with something like this. I was still trying to deal with it myself but I’d made my decision. I was still Ben Carson---at least on the inside. I wanted to live my life just like I’d been living it. That meant going to school, my school. If this peon didn’t understand that then that was his damn problem.
“I am permitted to still attend this school right?”
He nodded. “There’s nothing that says you can’t, it’s just a little unorthodox”
“Try waking up with boobs” I quibbled.
Mr. Henry loosened his tie a bit.
Then he cleared his throat. “I’m legally obligated to tell you that as an administrator, I cannot deny you an education. However, I’m also obligated to inform you that this establishment will not favor you in anyway. If you choose to attend school here, we can’t protect you from any harm. You attend at your own risk and must deal with the consequences of such”
Wow, way to have my back.
I guess I couldn’t really blame him.
He was a low level Administrative Bureaucrat. A small fish in a rather large pond. Like I said, a good man but one who was afraid of the system, too. I really couldn’t have expected the man to act any other way. I just thought he’d be a little less of a coward. Was he really afraid that I was going to do something or worse, someone was going to try to do something to me?
“I can handle myself now sir,” I told him truthfully.
Hell I could handle myself before as well.
“Its not you I’m worried about”
So he really was trying to protect his own ass.
“I’m not a danger, sir. I know my limits.”
I let out a sigh, thinking.
“I’ll make you a promise,” I continued. “If at any time I feel like I can’t hack it here or I don’t belong, I’ll leave. I know what a problem this is, not just for you either. I want to try, sir, I have to try. If it doesn’t work, I need you to let me figure that out.”
He nodded. “Thank you for the honesty Bethany. I’ll hold you to that promise”
I nodded too, then stood up. He didn’t bother to correct me. I knew when the conversation was done.
Besides no one dismissed an Alpha.
Not that I was being arrogant, it was an actual societal thing.
Alphas were superior in every way and as such, they were afforded certain liberties.
I realized my mistake quickly and started to sit back down but he waved me off.
“Its ok Miss Carson, we were actually done”
He actually chuckled a bit.
I smiled and thanked him before heading out the door. As soon as it closed behind me, I let out a sigh. I’d like to say that the hard part was over but that was a lie. I’d actually arrived here about an hour early this morning so I could get things all organized. Apparently deciding to go back to my normal school meant I had to do everything by myself. The government was nice enough to change my gender and my name but that’s all they were willing to do for me. Not going with the “program” meant that they weren’t going to help me with anything.
So before the meeting, I spent most of my time with a guidance counselor organizing things.
It didn’t take long.
I was able to convince her that I was the same person and wanted the same schedule.
The only thing that changed was my gym class.
Now I was in a class with girls.
Yay me.
I tapped my ear as I started down the hall. I brought up a quick map of the school. Something else had changed too, actually. After I “disappeared” for a week or so, they had to give up my locker. It was nothing new. So I had a new locker on the other side of the building. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from the office. Walking there was another thing though. Since leaving, the school was starting to fill up. As soon as I turned around the corner, I found myself in a sea of my peers.
And boy was I noticed.
As I walked, I couldn’t help but feel like my skin my was starting to match the red of my shirt.
All eyes were immediately on me.
I tried my hardest not to let it get to me but of course, it did. Here I was wearing a bright red shirt and the tightest jeans known to man.
Of course, people were going to notice.
Damn it Carrie.
Every guy I past seem to undress me with their eyes. Every girl I passed looked like they wanted to drive a stake through my heart. Oh yeah, this day was going to be loads of fun. It got even worse when I approached The Hall. That’s not its real name, hell it didn’t have a name actually. It was just something that the normal people in the school called it. The Hall was where all the popular kids hung out before, during and after classes. There was nothing overly special about it but they seemed to gravitate toward it.
I took a deep breath as I approached.
The cheerleaders saw me first. Of course, they all sneered. Sure, they would. They were supposed to be the school Queens and here I was now.
A God among them.
Actually, that bit made me feel a little better about myself.
I never really had a problem with those girls but I knew Maddie did. I used to watch the way they treated her and it was pretty bad. To them, individuality was a sin and Maddie was the greatest sinner of them all. Now though---with those looks---I was sure they were definitely going to be thorns in my side. Especially with the way, Natalie was looking at me. Natalie St. James---the Queen Bee---cheerleader and bitch extraordinaire. I had a feeling she was going to be a real problem. Even more so because her boyfriend happened to be my new stalker---John.
Speaking of which…
“Hey”
I stopped in my tracks, about ten feet from the girls.
I just barely missed him when he practically materialized in front of me.
Shit.
“I’m gonna be late” I said, hoping it was enough to get rid of him.
It wasn’t.
“You left your bag thingy at the park yesterday. I have it if you want it.”
I knew that was going to be a problem.
“Sure thanks I guess”
I followed him the short distance to his locker---which was of course surrounded by his Free Baller buddies. The guys from the park were there, giving me friendly nods. The others there were all staring at me like I walked out of Heaven or something. I tried to ignore them all and waited impatiently. A few seconds later, my hip pouch was back in my hands. I opened it to make sure everything was still there, getting a quick reassurance from John that he didn’t touch anything.
“Well I might have looked for ID,” he said embarrassed then quickly added. “You know for your address…to uh return it to you.”
“I don’t have one”
Not yet anyway. It was supposed to come in the mail any day now, not that he needed to know that.
I stuffed the pouch in my backpack and started down the hall again.
John of course was right with me.
“So what’s your name anyway?”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to give up was he?
“It’s Beth”
“Beth, cool” he said with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
I laughed at that.
“We’ve already met…several times in fact.”
He gave me a confused look before it seemed to sink in. When the truth dawned on him, he fell silent which was fine by me. What wasn’t fine was the course he seemed to be taking. As I meandered my way through the halls, he seemed to be following. Not out of obligation to stalk me but actually because he seemed to be going in the same direction. No not just the same direction I realized, the same class. I cursed. Of course. I forgot he was in my first morning class. In fact, he was in three of my classes.
Shit.
“This is your class?” he asked when we got to the door.
I nodded. He quickly opened the door for me and we went in. As soon as I stepped into the room, all eyes were on me including a very surprised Mrs. Wren. Even more surprised though was Joe, especially when I made my way over to my usual sit. As soon as I sat down, a murmur roared through the room immediately. Mrs. Wren blinked a few times before giving me a concerned smile. Just like Mr. Henry, it was clear that she knew I was going to have problems here.
“Welcome back Miss Carson” she said, stumbling for a second over the “miss” part.
All eyes were on me.
Joe’s especially.
I wanted to crawl under the desk and stay there forever.
“Thanks” I said sheepishly.
A second later, several hands in the room moved. Most of them up to their ears. The pips were flying. In several minutes, I was pretty sure everyone in the school was now going to know that Ben Carson was now an Alpha.
Shit that’s all I needed.
“No fucking way” whispered Joe, leaning slightly to speak to me.
He was sitting next to me after all.
“Now you know where I’ve been,” I whispered back, refusing to look in his direction.
Joe sad nothing for a minute or so.
I held my breath.
Then he laughed. “I guess we can’t call you Minus anymore.”
I wanted to laugh myself.
Instead, I let out a huge sigh of relief.
One down, two to go.
By the time I got to my second class of the day, the news of my transformation had spread like wild fire. Every person I ran into stopped to stare at me and those who didn’t seemed to linger around longer than necessary. The only people who seemed not to care were the teachers. There was some initial shock on their parts but they recovered quickly. Thankfully they treated me like a normal human being. Even though technically I wasn’t one.
Thankfully, the novelty of me started to wear off as the morning went on.
By the time lunch came around everyone knew.
And everyone had seen me.
Including Maddie.
The first class of the day I had with her was the one right before lunch. When I walked into the room, I took my usual seat next to her. As soon as I did, she got up and moved. Trying to speak to her was useless as well because she wouldn’t even look at me. I’m not sure if I was more pissed off or disappointed. I knew what she thought of Alphas of course but I was hoping she’d be able to get over that prejudice because it was me.
I was still me.
If only she’d let me explain it to her.
When I finally got to the cafeteria, I found Joe at our usual table. As soon as I walked into the room, all eyes were on me, of course. I went through the lunch line as soon as possible then made a quick dash for my usual seat. When I sat, I was surprised he was alone. I let out a sigh, desperately wanting to scream at the top of my lungs.
I picked up my burger and took a huge bite, not bothering to be polite about it either.
Joe gave me a strange look.
“What?” I asked, my mouth full.
“You really are the same, aren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes then swallowed. “Yes”
“So no compulsions?”
It was fairly common knowledge that a lot of recently emerged Alphas went through some behavioral swings and things like that. I knew the drill. Deena actually talked about it with me for some time in-between tests. In fact I think a good portion of her tests were to see how much I’d actually changed. Well besides the whole wanting to be more active---like my running---I was the same person.
“I’m the same guy Joe”
“Ummm” he said, pointing at my chest.
“You know what I mean,” I snapped.
He looked like he wanted to ask more questions but I had one of my own first. I quickly cut him off as he was about to speak.
“So why are you sitting alone anyway?”
We were never the most popular kids in school but we had a small group of friends. We didn’t always sit with them at lunch but sometimes people rotated our way. The usual group at the table was Joe, Ted and I. After Crystal’s funeral though, Maddie had started joining us too. Some of her friends would sit here too. Things got complicated with Ted of course after Mads and I kinda hooked up. I just thought maybe whatever his problem was would have cooled off by now.
“Well” said Joe pointing. “There’s Maddie”.
I followed his finger and saw her sitting with a group of kids I’d never really noticed before. Then again, looking at Maddie I wouldn’t have noticed her unless I knew her. She looked totally different now---even from this morning actually. Her hair was pitch black now, her makeup dark and edgy. I’d say she was in mourning again if not for her clothes: a black shirt with long mesh sleeves, a short tartan skirt, fishnets and black boots.
I knew the look well.
“She’s taking things well,” I said sarcastically.
“Give her some time”
I turned back to Joe. “What about Ted?”
Joe rolled his eyes. “That’s a different thing altogether”. He sipped his drink. “Two days after you were gone, he seemed to grow a pair. He walked right up to Maddie and asked her out. Lot of nerve if you ask me. Well after she spurned him, he kind of freaked. He caused quite a scene. It escalated quickly too. He tried to drag her out of her chair and that’s when things got real bad. One of the Free Ballers stepped in and well let’s just sat Ted wasn’t in a good place when it ended. The day after that he was gone. His Mom pulled him out of school, said it was an “unsafe environment for her son”. Load of crap if you ask me.”
What the hell was with Ted lately anyway?
“Are we still good?”
“Best buds bro,” he said, holding out his fist, waiting for me to give it a bump.
I didn’t leave him hanging long.
It felt a little weird though.
“I think we need to come up with something else,” I said.
Both of us laughed.
After that, I let him ask his questions. He had a lot of them, but I answered them as best as I could. I think my whole manifestation interested him way too much. It was nice to talk about it though. When I started talking about my tests, he seemed really interested. Especially when I told him, I was free weighting five hundred pounds.
He seemed particularly interested in that. I was about to tell him about those strange numbers when the chime ended lunch sounded.
I sighed, maybe tomorrow.
Because of the strange rotating block schedule we had, classes were split into two parts. The first parts were before lunch, the seconds after.
So Math 1 and Science 1 in the morning, Math 2 and Science 2 in the afternoon.
It was a real pain in the ass.
I was on my way to Math 2, when John was waiting for me.
Does this guy ever quit?
“You’re Ben Carson,” he said as I approached.
“I said I was a guy before.”
“You could have said something before I made an ass out of myself.”
“Is this the part where you hit me or threaten me? I don’t have all day you know, so get it over with quick or we’ll be late for class.”
“Wait? What?”
I sighed. “I was a guy. Aren’t all you jocks homophobes or something?”
Being homosexual wasn’t much a problem anymore. In fact, it was part of the norm now. I knew from history class that it was a real problem when my grandfather was younger. Several people actually said it was unconstitutional or some such bullshit. People were stupid. Even though it wasn’t a problem now though there were, still some of saw it as such. It was common knowledge that a lot of jocks seem to think that way.
It was different with Alphas. Though not illegal by any means, it was frowned upon when normal people had relationships with Alphas. It was one of the reasons Alphas were asked to live in The Cube. That way they could meet a respected partner and be done with it.
“That’s kind of offensive isn’t it?”
He looked genuinely shocked.
“And it’s not offensive to be standing here, staring at me like I’m a piece of meat?”
He didn’t respond but by the look of his blushing face, I knew I’d struck a nerve.
I did get him to advert his eyes though.
“So” I said, hoping this conversation was going somewhere. “Was there a point to all this?”
“I just wanted you to know that I don’t care if you were a guy before. You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. Screw what everyone else has been saying.”
Ummm….what.
“What are they saying?”
He suddenly looked like someone shot his puppy. Then he quickly filled me in on the rumors. Apparently, I somehow managed to get my hands on a genetically manipulated sample of the “Alpha gene”. One that not only made me faster and stronger but also made me a Super Aphrodite. It would seem that I was just too damn beautiful to be a normal Alpha so I somehow made myself into a super normal one.
If that even made sense.
Where the hell did rumors like that even come from?
“John honey”
Suddenly Natalie materialized right next to him, making a big display of looping her arm through his.
Was this the fabled “Marking one’s territory” from girl world I’d heard so much about.
Natalie turned to me and gave me a look.
No shit.
She thought I was trying to take John from her.
As if.
“What are you doing talking to him anyway?”
Yeah, definitely jealous.
I wanted to smirk but instead I just pushed past the two of them, hoping to make it to class before the chime.
When I finally did make it, I found my seat quickly. I couldn’t help but smile though, especially when Joe gave me a quizzical look.
So to quickly recap today’s events: Joe was still my friend, Ted was gone for good, Mads wanted nothing to do with me and John was even more of a creepy stalker than before.
Oh let’s not forget Natalie.
I couldn’t help but sigh.
I wonder if it’s too late to go to The Cube after all?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: I bet everyone thought I fell off the face of the Earth but I'm still here and still kicking. It took me a while to get things going again with this story sadly. I wrote up to the end of Ch. 8 but when I went to write 9, nothing happened. I also kept thinking of every different story like this and I really didn't want to try to copy something that came before so I was stumped. Then the other day, it just came to me :) So without further ado here's Ch.9 of Clownfish. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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9.
“How are you feeling?”
I shrugged.
It was a good question and one I didn’t really have a good answer for.
“How am I supposed to feel?”
Deena smiled. I’m not sure she had an answer either.
The two of us were sitting in her office. When I left the Q, it was decided that she and I would meet every week for a couple of weeks after my release. Remember how I said MD and PHD, well besides her medical license, Deena was apparently a shrink too. Today was our first official meeting. This morning I had to get up extra early to get ready too. You know how much teenagers hate to get up before noon on a Saturday? Yeah, well Mom insisted. Thankfully, I managed to go through my morning routine without Carrie interfering.
The Squirt didn’t wake up until Mom and I were leaving.
She pouted a bit about that.
No Carrie meant slumming it a bit. Even in a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt, I still looked like a Greek Goddess.
Damn.
Anyway, I was now in T2, in the same building that Mom’s office was in. Unlike Mom’s though, Deena’s office was pretty high class. Apparently, the different medical fields were relegated to different floors. Mom’s office was on the third floor while Deena’s was on the top one---the forty fifth floor to be exact. Yeah, it was a really tall building. Not that it was out of place, though. Most of the office buildings in the Zones were tall. In fact, there were four buildings of the same height in each Metro.
They had an official name but most of us just called them the Towers.
Mom and Deena had offices in T2.
Dad had an office in T3.
You get the drill right?
There were other differences besides the floor. I wouldn’t say Mom had a small office by any means but it didn’t compare to the size of Deena’s. Her’s was huge. Not only did it have a reception area with a secretary but it also had a little en-suite, a few examining rooms for her medical patients, a room where she met with her psych patients and her private office area. We were currently in the private area. It was pretty spacious too with a horseshoe shaped desk, a large sitting area with a very comfy couch and a great view. When I first came in, Deena ushered me over to the large glass window behind her desk. She wanted me to see the whole of the Metro. It was spectacular, I could see all the zones, the towers, even the semi-transparent dome of The Cube---well at least when the light hit.
Now though, the two of us were on the couch.
This first meeting she said she wanted to make as informal as possible.
That’s why we were in her office.
“Why don’t we start with something else, feelings can wait,” she said, smiling. “Why not tell me about your first week of school?”
“It was weird”
“How so?”
I sighed. I gave her a quick recap of the first day. How the principal basically told me he wasn’t going to protect me if something happened and how everyone reacted to seeing me. I told her about my friends or lack thereof now. Well I still had Joe but Maddie and Ted were probably gone for good. Then I told her about John and Natalie.
“Girls are like that sometimes. You’re new and let’s face it, much prettier than her. It’s only natural she’d feel threatened by you.”
“It’s stupid. Why should she feel threatened by me?”
Deena smiled. “You’re a very pretty girl now, talking to her boyfriend. I think you see where I’m going with this?”
I sighed and nodded.
I knew exactly where she was going.
“How do you feel about John?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.”
I’ll admit it; I squirmed a bit in my seat. I was hoping I could avoid something like this. I’m an idiot for even mentioning him to her. Now I was going to have to explain something I didn’t want to talk about yet. I was a little scared about it all actually. I knew I was no longer attracted to Maddie or any other girl for that matter.
“He’s not unattractive”
“But he’s a boy” she said and I nodded. She continued. “And that makes you uncomfortable. It’s perfectly understandable. You are still in that transition phase of things. It’s common for new Alphas. In time, it will fade. Eventually you won’t even notice. He’ll be a boy and you’ll be a girl and nature will take its course.”
“I’m not sure I want it to.”
She burst out laughing while I frowned at her reaction.
She apologized when she was done.
“Ok, moving along” she said more professionally. “Tell me about the rest of your week”
Taking a deep breath, I told her.
The rest of the week was pretty routine I guess. The only thing that really stood out---on the second day of school---was my new Gym class. While the boys and girls had different locker rooms for obvious reasons, we still shared the same Gym for actual class. Well mostly the same. The Gym was the largest building in our school; as such, it was large enough for them to section it off. A large glass wall divided it directly down the center. The boys were on one side, the girls on the other. It kept the two classes separate but the same. The strange thing was the opposite nature of it all for me. Both halves of the gym were identical but I couldn’t help but feel I was on the wrong side. Especially because I used to be one of the boys who used to ogle the girls.
Now I was on the receiving end of that.
And boy did they ogle.
Carrie had picked out what she called “the perfect gym ensemble”. Unfortunately it consisted of a white tank and blue shorts, both of which I think she bought in one size too small or something. At least I thought so when I put them on. Apparently, though, it was a standard uniform for girls because just about everyone was wearing them. I mean I guess I noticed as a boy but it just seemed standard or something. Now that I was wearing such an outfit, it was far from standard. I felt naked, especially with all the male eyes on me.
I also felt all the glares.
Every female eye around me was burning holes into me.
Eventually the staring got so bad that Miss Marx---the PE teacher---had to break it up with her whistle. The girls fell in line pretty quickly after that. The boys were a different matter. It was then decided that the “glass” would be “shut off”. It was something that the teachers could do from time to time to lessen the distraction. Basically, both teachers on either side had to push a button. Said button pushing turned the glass wall into a frosty glass wall, making it impossible for either side to see-through. They usually did it when the swimming rotation came around.
Yeah underneath the usual gym floor was the pool.
The only time we ever left the Gym room was when we did the track rotation. Apparently the higher ups just couldn’t figure out how to fit the track into the space provided so it was actually outside.
Well, Gym was the highlight of the rest of my week.
“What about your friends?” she asked after I regaled her with my amazing Gym story.
“You mean my friend,” I said, using air quotes when I said friend to emphasize I only had one now.
“How do you feel about that?”
I shrugged. “Pissed”
Ted I could understand, I mean he was gone now. The rumor was his mother was actually sending him to school in Z1, where a lot of the government muckity mucks sent their kids. The school there was smaller but very exclusive. Ted probably hated it there. Serves him right. If he wasn’t such an ass about things, he’d still be here with us.
Maddie, on the other hand, she was just being downright ridiculous.
She cut ties with everyone.
Including her old girl friends.
Now she was with that other crowd.
It got worse after the first day too. She wasn’t just dressing like them anymore. She was starting to act like them too. My second day back she turned up with several piercings. The third day, she had quite a bunch of weird tattoos. Then there was her attitude. Maddie had never really been a people person but now she was just a downright bitch---to everyone. The only ones not appalled by it were her “new friends”.
She blamed me for it too. She made that abundantly clear whenever I was around her. She would raise her voice and say things like “that freak” or “that thing”.
It hurt.
“She’s hurting too I imagine,” said Deena, comforting me as I started to tear up. “Give her some time; her world has fallen apart all at once. She just lost her sister and now her boyfriend, it’s going to take some time for her.”
I nodded, wiping back the tears.
I knew that.
Deena decided to change things up after that. She started asking me about my home life. Well there wasn’t really much of one. Just like before, it was usually just me and Carrie. After that first day of school, Mom became Mom again. She was still a little more attentive but she lost herself in work again. Dad was always absent. Apparently he had some big “project” he was working on. I don’t think he’s been home once since I have been. I talked to him briefly on the vid but he seemed distracted and distant. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was avoiding me.
It was how he coped.
When Grandpa died, he disappeared into his work for weeks.
So life kind of sucked right now.
The only good thing I had going for me now was the Sentinels.
“I think that’s a good place to end this,” said Deena when I brought them up.
“What about them?”
She chose her words carefully I think. “Are you sure going back to them is such a good idea?”
I nodded. “The Sentinels have been my life. They’re all I ever thought about. I want to be me, as normal as I have been. I want that life”
She smiled, a little uneasily but smiled nonetheless.
“Well good luck to you then.”
The ride from Deena’s office to the main way was a rather quiet one.
Mom and I never talked all that much to begin with, not enough in common. They couldn’t be more far from the truth now. We weren’t technically even the same species anymore. It was one of the reasons why I chose to take up my usual seat in the back of our Jag. My sister usually rode shotgun anyway. Today however Mom and I were alone but I didn’t feel much like talking. I was too worried about how things might go. Sure there was nothing in the rules that said an Alpha couldn’t be a Sentinel but I was setting a great deal of precedence with it.
I was also causing quite a stir apparently.
Though I was an “unknown” Alpha, the News didn’t fail to report my recent controversial stand. Apparently I was something of a rebel now.
Go figure.
I wish they’d get their facts straight for once though. I wasn’t rebelling against anything. In fact, my parents and I had spent the better part of the week talking to the higher ups in The Sentinels. Much like my school, they said they couldn’t give me any preferential treatment, but unlike my school, they said they’d be fully responsible for my actions. Actions, in and out of uniform. So even if I were to streak through the park in my skivvies, they’d still hold me responsible for it and take the necessary action. That action was one thing and one thing only: Removal.
No more Sentinels.
My dreams crushed.
Loserville.
So yeah no pressure or anything.
Thankfully, I was going into this somewhat prepared. Having already gone through the preliminary orientation and having been accepted as a Probate, I was one step closer. The next two weeks however were the real test. My meeting with Sergeant Phillips was just step one; sure they’d accepted me now they needed to see if I could make the grade. That meant putting me and my fellow Potentials through a grueling two-week orientation course. If at the end of those two weeks, I could prove myself to them then I would be an official Sentinel Cadet.
I already made steps toward said goal. Last night I spent a better part of forty-five minutes reading my manual, from cover to cover. My new super Alpha brain enabled me to memorize the whole thing too. Ok so it was a little unfair but it’s not like the other guys weren’t going to have some tricks up their sleeves too. My grandfather told me to always be the “best me I could possibly be” and that meant using everything I had to offer.
Alpha powers activate.
Seriously, though, I was really nervous.
It didn’t help that my mother and sister had convinced me to dress a little more sporty for it. Gone were the sweats and tee I wore to Deena’s office. In their place was a light hoodie over one of my running tanks and a pair of black yoga pants. Yeah, I’m totally hating the pants. At least they let me pick out my own shoes---a new pair of Nikes. My mother tried to convince me a little makeup might not hurt but I drew the line there. I compromised by letting her style my hair into a nice high ponytail. Carrie had wanted to braid it down my back, you know like that girl from those old time video games from the yesterday year, Lara something or other.
Yeah I’m not ready for that yet.
I’m still not ready for a skirt either.
Carrie tried to convince me to wear one to school yesterday but I’ll burn that bridge when I get there. Like I said before, I think she’s enjoying having a sister way more than I am enjoying being one.
“You ok?” asked Mom, bringing my thoughts to an end.
I shrugged. “No better than usual”
She turned around, letting the car drive itself.
In fact, most of the time she let it go on Auto.
“You don’t have to do this you know. I understand your need to be a Sentinel, I know it’s something you’ve wanted but that was before…”
She trailed off a bit, stopping herself before saying the obvious.
I finished for her. “Yes, back when I was Ben.”
She’d been doing that all week, whether she realized it or not. It was tough on all of us, me more than most. Carrie liked having a sister but I could tell even she was weirded out by it . Mom kept making mistakes and apologizing for them. She wanted me to be happy of course too but she seemed to want me to forget who I was before too. Don’t even get me started on Dad. When he visited me at the Q was the first and only time he’d seen his “new” daughter. Ok like Mom, Dad and I had never really been that close. I think he resented the relationship that grandpa and I used to have. I think I mentioned it before but Dad and Grandpa were never close.
Grandpa had been very outgoing, always on the move. Dad was more of a stay in the garage and tinker on something kind of guy.
He was still like that now.
Except instead of a garage, he spent most of his time at work.
Avoiding things.
Like his son turned daughter.
Strangely enough, the only one of the family who didn’t seem to have a problem was Toby. Then again, he was programmed to accept us no matter. I’m sure a real dog would have noticed the difference but not good ole Toby. All Mom had to do was access his memory bank and switch the old me to the new one and for him it was like I’d always existed this way. Kind of insulting but it saved some problems. If Toby hadn’t recognized me, I’d be in a load of hurt. Sure, they were great pets but they had a real nasty security system built into them as well.
I knew my family was trying but that didn’t stop me from getting annoyed about the whole damn thing.
“Honey” she said, trying to take my hand but failing when I pulled away. “I understand how hard this is for you but you need to accept…”
I cut her off. “I’m still me!”
We’d had this conversation before too.
Mom had been continuing to try and convince me that my life as Ben was over and I needed to accept it. I needed to embrace the new and let the old stay where it was, in the past. That meant anything that Ben had been involved with should be forgotten. Things like The Sentinels. I could read her like a book though. She was never happy that I’d been interested in them in the first place. She used to hate when Grandpa told me stories about the “good old days”. She had made it very clear when I wanted to join them that she hadn’t been happy with my choice.
But it was my life.
My decision.
“Car stop!”
I could hear the anger in her voice as the car came to a stop in one of the many nearby parking spots along the road. She unbuckled her harness and turned completely around in her seat.
“Now listen and listen good,” she said in her sternest voice. “I’m concerned for you sweetheart. This obsession you have with your life before is unhealthy. I know how much you loved all this stuff but there is so much more out there for you now. A new life waiting on the horizon, new opportunities.”
“I don’t want a new life or opportunities. I want everything as it was before. I liked what I’d been doing, I liked being me!”
We weren’t shouting at one another but we were getting pretty close.
Mom rarely got angry but when she did, it was something not to be trifled with. However, unlike before, I wasn’t the least bit afraid of it now. It seemed so trivial in comparison to me now. More than that though, it was a human yelling at her superior. If another Alpha or a Sentinel happened to be witness to it, Mom could get fined. It was kind of stupid but it was the law. We used to learn it all the way back when we were children, the Three Truths: Alphas are Superior, Alphas are Strong, Alphas are Never Wrong.
Three Guidelines.
Three Absolutes.
Three things that humans were not allowed to go against.
“Mom” I said, looking out the window, worried.
Mom seemed to notice she’d been raising her voice to me.
Thankfully, for her, we were still a few blocks from the Sentinel Center.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking downcast.
This time I took her hand, tearing up. “It’s my fault and I know what you’re saying but I can’t accept it Mom. This is all bullshit and I want…”
She was hugging me a moment later. Whatever anger either one of us felt was gone in that instance. After a moment or so, I realized how stupid it had all been. We were having the same argument all over again. We had it last night and the night before that. In fact, we’d been having it pretty much since I’d gotten home. It was getting us nowhere. I understood what she wanted and her concern but she needed to understand my concern as well.
I wanted to be me.
I wanted to be human.
We stopped hugging and crying a minute or so later. Mom took a moment to use her Bio to fix her makeup. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. If there was one thing about all this I’d never do, it was that. I don’t care how much of a girl I was now, something like that just freaked me the hell out. Women these days were too damn vain and it scared the hell out of me that I might turn into something like that, something not me anymore.
Like Maddie’s brother.
“We’ll be ok Mom,” I said, reassuringly.
“I know sweetie”
Though she said, I could sense there was something else in her voice too.
Uncertainty.
Another moment later, she had the car moving again.
The rest of the short drive from the parking spot was a quiet one. As the Center started to get into focus, my excitement started. The Sentinel Center was a large complex that stretched around the entirety of The Cube. There were a total of six entrances, each one opening into one of the Zones. From what I understood there were four entrances that opened into The Cube itself. Large and constructed out of titanium steel and glass, The Center was one of the first structures built after the Fall and Upheaval. The Sentinels as I mentioned before were created as Peacekeepers, there to prevent any further hostilities between Alphas and humans. Originally meant for humans alone, there was nothing in the rules that stated an Alpha couldn’t join their ranks.
It had just never happened.
Not until now.
As we got closer, more of the building came into view.
Calling it, a building though was a bit of an understatement. It was more like an elaborate guard tower that wrapped around the transpari-dome of The Cube. Five stories high, build to withstand most explosives and natural disasters, the Center was a literal fortress. At one time, it housed over two thousand Sentinels. Over the years though, the number had dropped drastically. Now only five hundred strong, the Sentinels were a dying breed. Most of the Center was used for training exercises now. Large areas were even sectioned off and abandoned because there wasn’t enough man power to keep the place fully staffed.
A part of me felt sad.
The other part realized the significance of it though.
The Center had been built in a time of turmoil. The large show of force there to convince the humans and the Alphas that they meant business. Now however, it mean that there was peace. Peace was good on all levels except for the Sentinels themselves. Once a force of absolute power, now the government kept lessening their duties and mandates. A once great military arm was reduced to nothing more than glorified security guards and babysitters when needed. Sentinels weren’t even allowed to carry real weapons anymore.
The sign of the changing times.
Mom pulled the car into one of the designated visitor slots.
“You sure about this honey?”
I nodded.
“This is where I’m meant to be Mom”
She gave me a weak smile then a long hug.
I climbed out of a car and gulped, never realizing how enormous all of this was. The large blue steel and glass building loomed high above me. Even higher was the dome of The Cube. This was the closest I’d been to it after all. The dome of The Cube was several miles wide and three miles tall, an engineering marvel. The transpari-dome was designed to simulate a calm and soothing environment for all those who looked at it. On the inside, I had no idea what it looked like. Out here it was currently displayed a serene skyscape of clouds. Every one of my classmates used to gloat about how close they’d been to The Cube and what they saw on the dome. In truth, they were all full of it. Most humans only even got to the designated spectator zones around the perimeter, several feet back. One actually had to get a pass to get any closer and go through two checkpoints.
Very few were afforded those passes.
As a Sentinel candidate, I had special permissions. Mom was allowed to use one of the designated roads to bring us here. On my preliminary orientation---back when I spoke to that hologram of the Sergeant and had that life altering physical---I’d been afforded access to one of the Center’s underground way stations. There were several of those, accessible to anyone. They were there to report problems and things like that. In fact, there were several ones all around the Zone, unattached to the Center actually. Those little way stations were nothing more than call boxes though. We learned about something like that in history class from long ago, police boxes or whatever. We also learned about something called 911.
All of that was gone now.
I was also in the big leagues now too.
No more way stations.
No more underground meetings with holograms either.
I took a breath as I stepped away from Mom’s car and toward the building. My heart was racing as the excitement inside of me grew. As I got closer to the entrance, I felt a little nervous as well. It took a lot to get myself to this point. I’d been through a lot too. Not just my gender flip either. I’d been training for years up to this point. Well not really training but preparing. Sure, I had some rudimentary combat training from grandpa. A mild form of martial arts he taught me, the only form Dad would permit him to teach me actually. I’d also read everything I could get my hands on throughout the years, including grandpa’s old manual. It was miniscule in comparison to today’s modern one but it still contained all the same info.
I knew how to be a Sentinel.
I was a Sentinel.
At the door, a hologram of a man’s head appeared.
There a was momentary look of surprise on his face before he was all business.
“Can I help you miss?”
I cleared my throat, moment of truth time.
“Bethany Carson Z3-14-A1-49”
Yes, I had a new designation now. No longer was I 03 of my family. Because I was now an Alpha and the only one in my household, I’d been designated A1. It was kind of cool but a little embarrassing as well. Not cool though was the change of my last name. I’m not sure if it was noticed at first but I’d been Ben Daniels before all this crap happened. Well society designated men and women a little differently now. Unmarried women took the name of their mother until such a time as marriage. So I was a Carson now, just like Carrie. It was kind of stupid if you ask me but nothing any of us could do about it. Interestingly enough though, if I’d actually moved to The Cube I could change everything, including my name. Mom and Dad picked out Bethany of course but if I had wanted, I could have called myself anything. In fact, there were a lot of Alphas out there with weird names like Johnny Crash, Moonshine Flower and Raven Dark---Johnny was a Free Baller, Moonshine an actress and Raven a poet.
The sky was the limit when it came to Alphas.
The hologram blinked a few times. He looked me over a lot. I was starting to get really fucking annoyed about that bit. He was a Sentinel after all; surely I wasn’t the first Alpha he’d ever seen. Ok so my lips weren’t three colors nor were my eyes neon---don’t ask. I was still just like any other Alpha out there, minus the fact that I was on the other side of their “wall”.
It took him a few seconds to recover.
“You’re Probate Carson?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes”
This guy had clearly been expecting me. Technically Probate Daniels was supposed to report to them last week but circumstances out of my control had changed all that.
“Ummm…”
I sighed. “I’m supposed to be here. Do whatever checking you need to do, I can wait.”
The head disappeared.
About five minutes later, another head appeared.
This one of Sergeant Phillips.
“I’m sorry for the mix up Probate, we were expecting an Alpha but the man here was under the impression that it was going to be a male one.”
“In another life sir.”
Phillips laughed. “I can only imagine.”
I’d only met Phillips that once but I did like him.
“A bit than the last time we met sir.”
“Only on the outside, Probate”
I smiled.
Now I really liked the guy.
“Damn straight sir.”
He nodded. “Well then, I’d like to re-welcome you to the Sentinels, Probate Carson.”
He gave the customary salute gesture---a fist to his chest. I returned the same and the door opened.
Sentinel life here I come.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Here's Ch.10, I'm happy to report that I'm schedule with things now too, halfway through Ch.11 as I write this. I'm also happy to report that this story is finally getting into the heart of things. The chapters leading up to this one have been a set up, after this one the story should start to pick up a lot so thanks for bearing with me :) I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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10.
After walking a short corridor, I found myself in some place rather surprising---a spacious lobby.
It was the last thing I expected.
I mean this was a government building that didn’t get too many visitors and here it had a lavish lobby complete with a comfortable looking reception area. It was a pretty good size too; one could get a strained neck looking up at the ceiling. I only looked up for a second, concentrating quickly on the rest of the details. I liked to know a place well, especially if I was going to be spending a lot of time in it. I quickly took note of the exits---there were four and how the architectural design from outside seemed to make its way inside as well.
Here I saw the same blue steel.
The same glass.
Even the column work here was very similar to the two columns I forgot to make note of flanking the main entrance. The difference here was the floor; it was made of polished white marble. It looked pretty impressive, too. It was well kept, making me wonder how often this place was cleaned. I mean everything around me looked sterile and seemed to shine. I could even see myself in some of the surfaces. I couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Can I help you, Miss?” asked a man directly to my left.
Turning I noticed him.
Tall---but not quite Alpha tall---he was wearing the standard white Sentinel uniform; the green bars on his shoulder told me he was a Corporal.
Ok quick rundown on Sentinel rank.
At the bottom, you had the Cadets and Probates. You could always tell them apart from the rest because they didn’t get the fancy white outfits. They usually wore gray tees and cargo pants. Above them were the Corporals like the guy to my left, they were noticeable due to the green bars on their shoulders. Next in rank were the Sergeants, like Phillips. He had three bars on his right shoulder: green blue green. Then there was the Lieutenants with their red stars, usually displayed on their left or right breast. Above them were the Captains. They had gold Stars. You could always tell a Captain because they were usually older, having been with the Sentinels for a long time. There were only six of them as well, one for each Zone. They were in complete control of most of the aspects of their respected Zones as well, only answering to one individual, The Sentinel Major---the highest ranking officer in the Sentinels.
I’m not sure what kind of symbol he wore because I’d never actually seen the man.
All I knew about him was that he had an office somewhere in the Center.
I turned to the Corporal.
“Probate Carson sir” I said, saluting with my fist.
He returned the gesture.
“Sergeant Phillips said to be expecting you,” he said, his eyes roaming me for the briefest of seconds. “I’m Corporal Townes; I’m to give you a quick tour before escorting you to the Rec.”
Like most Sentinels, Townes had his hair buzzed.
I was glad it was only a requirement for men.
And yes, before you think it, there were female Sentinels. Ok, so not as many as the men but they were there. Unlike the men though, they were allowed to keep their hair at shoulder length. Also unlike the men, they actually had a separate Barracks. I didn’t have to worry about all that yet though. Probates were usually still students and weren’t required to live in the Barracks until after they graduated from school.
“Follow me please,” said Townes, leading me out of the lobby.
We went through one of the nearest exits and down a corridor.
It didn’t take me long to realize this place was a lot of corridors.
Townes wasn’t a very adept tour guide though. As we passed a room, he’d point it out and move on. A lot of places we passed were offices. It was kind of disappointing. I was hoping to see something exciting. All I ended up seeing were corridors and doors.
“Mostly empty rooms now I’m afraid,” he finally admitted at my sour look. “This place used to be a lot more active.”
“What happened?”
“Guardians”
I couldn’t help but groan.
The Guardians were starting to be one of those contented topics these days. It was hard not for them to pop up on the vids every other day. It was the Guardians this or the Guardians that. It didn’t help that they had full backing of the government either. They were after all the government’s answer to the Sentinels. Unlike the Sentinels who were their own organization, the Guardians answered directly to the core government. They were more a military branch than the Sentinels too, allowed to carry actual guns and wore advanced power suits that made them easily able to contend with any threat, including the Alphas.
That’s of course where the controversy came in.
Many Alpha officials viewed them as too much.
Of course, the Sentinels hated them for a completely different reason.
They were stealing our jobs.
Ninety percent of the Sentinel recruits who washed out were easily snatched up by the Guardians. They were also tapping into the Sentinels potentials even before they could get to them. To say the Guardians were a real threat to the Sentinels was an understatement. In another few years, they would render the Sentinels completely obsolete.
It was a very scary thought.
“They’re not trying to muscle their way in here yet are they?”
Townes shook his head. “Unfortunately no but I’ve been hearing some rumblings coming from a colleague in Metro One, it doesn’t sound good.”
Metro One was our capital city, the seat of the core government and the current home of the Guardians. We here at Metro 656 were small fry in comparison but the fact that we were now the only Metro out there that still actively used the Sentinels had put us on the radar and into the direct crosshairs of the Guardians. To say we were a threat to them was an understatement. Conflict was coming and coming fast. It was one of the apprehensions my mother had about me becoming a Sentinel.
Of course, now she could add the whole “First Alpha Sentinel” to her growing list.
I tried not to think about it though.
The tour continued down another corridor.
As soon as we turned the corner, however things seemed different. It was still the same bland gray walls as before but now there seemed to be posters lining them. When we passed by one, I noticed the Sentinel symbol emblazoned on it one: a red shield with two crossed swords. It was the very same patch that appeared on the uniforms. There was a poster every ten feet or so.
It was a really long corridor.
At the end of which I noticed a large opening.
At first, I thought we were coming upon another lobby until I saw the stairs.
It was actually a foyer, very similar in design to the lobby actually but with two staircases on either side, winding up to a floor above it. Hanging from the floor above were large banners with the same Sentinel symbols. In-between the two staircases was a reception desk with a rather bored looking female officer behind it. Unlike the lobby, there were several Sentinels moving about. Some going up the stairs, others disappearing into doors and other corridors.
It was almost as if everything I’d seen so far had been a façade.
“Welcome to the Hub” said Townes with some pride.”The true center of this place”
“And before?”
“That was for the public. It’s an oversight committee thing or something. Its where the brass entertain and whatnot. It’s good for the Vids, it keeps people happy.”
I think I understood.
It made sense.
If I was in charge of this place, I wouldn’t want people seeing where the real work was done.
So The Hub.
This is where the real heart of The Center truly lied. It’s also where the real tour began.
“Up those stairs is the conference and interrogation rooms”
Townes didn’t need to point but he did anyway.
“Over there…” he said pointing but I interrupted.
“Interrogation?”
He nodded, lowering his arm. “Every once in a while we get a disgruntled citizen that needs to be arrested. It’s not as common as it used to be, especially on the other side of the Wall’.
“The Wall?”
“Its we call this place around here” he said, “The Center wraps around the whole of the base of the Cube. Kinda like a wall, that separates it from the rest of the Metro."
“Oh I get it.”
He continued with the tour. He wanted to take me to each of the rooms as he told me about them but there would be time for that later. Instead, he walked and talked again. There were four central corridors leading out of The Hub. Standing near the reception desk enabled you to see them all. The ones to the left and right led to Armory and Evidence rooms respectively. The one behind me of course led back to the way we’d came from. The one in front of me---directly behind the desk---led to Rec.
“Not much of a tour” he finally admitted “but there’s really not much to see, not anymore anyway.”
“Where are the Barracks?”
“Down the Rec hall, I’ll have someone show them to you later”
I nodded as he led the way to our destination.
“Sergeant Phillips will give you a brief orientation when we get to the Rec then assign you an FTO to further your training.”
FTO.
Field Training Officer.
Wow, this was really happening.
I was really a Sentinel now.
I could barely contain my excitement.
The Rec was a room a lot similar to the gymnasium at school, except with no glass divider wall and much smaller. It also had one of those rubberized floors like in the weight room. Unlike the gym at school though, it was pretty vacant right now. It reminded me a bit of the weight room at school as well, what with all the equipment. I couldn’t help but smile as I looked at the free weight rack, remembering fondly my time at the Q during the tests. As we entered, Townes explained that most of the guys were either on patrol, in the Barracks or in the case of my fellow probates, out running laps.
“You have a track?”
“No, they run the halls”
I guess that made sense.
The room wasn’t completely empty though.
Standing at attention in the center of the room were Sergeant Phillips and a Corporal who didn’t look much older than me. I sized Phillips up, seeing him for the first time in the flesh. Mid forties, well build and chiseled. The hologram didn’t do him justice. I should have been surprised he was in such good condition for his age but I knew better. He was a Sentinel after all. Most were pretty well fit though that did have something to do with their strict regimen and diet. Some also had some help along the way. Though not strictly illegal with Sentinels, it was definitely frowned upon. It didn’t stop some of the older ones though. As I mentioned with Deena, genetic manipulation was seen as an edge.
The Corporal on the other hand…
My heart skipped a beat.
Shit.
Young, very well fit and gorgeous.
Ok forget that last part.
I tried too.
Unfortunately my eyes found themselves giving him a complete once over anyway. I found myself comparing him to John as well. John was the prime specimen of manhood for kids my age, this guy however made John look like a boy. His bulging muscles strained against the gray tee he wore and with the buzzed head and chiseled looks, he was a prime candidate of human everything.
There was a term for guys like him.
Betas.
Men and women so good looking that they could be Alpha but weren’t.
Some of the girls at school referred to John as a Beta.
If only the girls could see this one.
“Probate Daniels, I’d like to introduce you to your FTO, this is Corporal Phillips” said the Sergeant, gesturing proudly to the Beta.
Phillips?
I looked from the older man to the younger one, suddenly seeing the resemblance. It was clear now that the two were definitely father and son.
If I was a father, I’d be proud to have him as a son too.
“Pleasure to meet you sir” I said, giving him the standard fist.
The corporal returned the gesture.
“Ryan, I’ll leave you to it then,” said the Sergeant.
Salutes were exchanged, Townes excused himself with Phillips and now I was alone in Betaville.
My heart skipped another beat.
Corporal Phillips let out a little sigh. He also relaxed his rigid posture a little. It was clear that he was trying to make a good first impression. It was also clear that most of it was for his father’s sake. I couldn’t help but smile at that. When he noticed it was as if he turned to stone. He went right back to the rigid statue he was a moment before.
“Amused Probate?”
“No sir”
“Good” he said, taking a step forward.
Even when he walked, there was an air of statue about him. It was a rigid, military like walk. He circled me a few times, looked me over once or twice. When he was done, he ended up in front of me. I’m proud to say that like John, he was only an inch or so shorter. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Betas were a thing too. Maybe someone decided that they couldn’t make Alphas but Betas---hell they were easy. I mean it was kind of funny that both he and John were considered Betas and both were the same height.
Hey conspiracy time.
I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Something funny now?”
“No sir”
“If you think this is a joke Probate then you’re wasting my time,” said Phillips, leaning in. “I know what and who you are and frankly I’m not impressed. You might be an Alpha outside these walls but here you’re just like everyone else. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir, I wouldn’t have it any other way sir”
“Good” he said with a nod. “Now how about you show me what you’re made of”
And so it began.
First, it was the pushups then sit-ups. After that, we moved onto chin-ups, squats and jumping jacks. None of which seemed to wind me much. Even after he made me do a hundred of each. After that, he had me hit the weights. We started on the free weights---there weren’t as many as there was in the Q. I went through their whole set, causing him to raise an eyebrow. He didn’t skip a beat, moving me onto the bench press. He spotted me through the first hundred pounds or so. When I got to two hundred and fifty or so, he had to stop.
I was half way through getting ready with the three hundred pound weights when he stopped me.
“You can’t lift that?”
“Yes I can”
He shook his head. “Someone your size and weight…”
“Have you seen my physical results from the Q sir?”
He shook his head.
“Then watch and learn”
So I pressed the three hundred. Then four hundred. I would have gone more because I was barely breaking a sweat but we ran out of weights again.
“That’s impossible” I heard him mumble under his breath.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“That’s an Alpha sir,” I said, making sure I let him know I’d heard him.
He looked genuinely surprised.
My next words threw him for a loop.
“So can I try that treadmill over there next?”
I pointed to the series of treadmills over in the corner. The look on his face was priceless. All he could do was nod like an idiot. Ok so I was showing off a bit but he deserved it for being a jerk. I knew it was his job to ride me but I wanted him to realize what it was going to be like to be with an Alpha. It also kinda wanted him to see what I could really do. I’m not sure why I thought it mattered so much but it did, it really did.
I really wanted to impress this guy.
I was on the treadmill for twenty minutes before he finally stopped me.
“Ok, ok you’ve humbled me.”
“I’m not sure I follow sir?”
I stepped off the treadmill, taking the towel he offered. I wiped my face and the area above my breast. I was just starting to glisten slightly.
“I thought maybe my father was pulling a prank on me or something but you’re serious about this?”
“Yes sir. I’ve wanted to be a Sentinel for as long as I could remember, I’m not going to let a little change in gender and societal status stop me from that.”
This time he smiled.
I stopped myself from asking if he found something amusing.
“So is there anything else Corporal?”
“Ryan” he said.
“I’m not sure I follow sir”
“No sir or Corporal when we’re alone Probate. I like to keep things casual when I’m training. So call me Ryan please”
“Yes sir…I mean Ryan”
Wow, that was a great name.
“Good” he said then took on a more professional tone as he continued. “I think that’s enough for today. I just wanted to see where you and I needed to go from here. It’s safe to say that you can meet the physical prowess of this job. Next weekend, you and I will be back in here, I need to see how well you can defend yourself.”
I was kind of surprised we were done.
“That’s it?”
He laughed.
God he had a great laugh.
Shit.
“I’m not used to probates being able to do that much. Usually I run them through the paces a bit more, weed out those who need more work than the others. I also usually do this as a group but seeing your circumstances, the rest of your peers have moved on. So we’ll be one on one for a few weekends until I think you’re ready. Seeing how you are though, it might be sooner than later.”
I impressed him.
That made me feel all warm and gooey inside.
Oh God.
Gag.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Thank you sir, I mean Ryan”
“You’re impressive Probate,” he said, smiling.
He dismissed me after that.
He agreed to show me my way out but I was able to manage. Something else cool about being me now, I memorized the route. Not that I did it intentionally or anything. It was just one of those freaky Alpha things I guess. I meandered my way through, finding the entrance lobby without a problem. This time the man at the door saluted me as I left. As soon as I stepped out, Mom piped.
She must have been monitoring me or something.
Parents.
“Hey Mom, what’s up?”
“Honey I’m sorry to do this but do you think you could walk home today. Something’s come up at work.”
Of course, it has.
“Sure thing Mom”
She didn’t even say bye before terminating the connection.
Sighing heavily, I stepped away from The Center.
I knew what I was supposed to do but I knew what I wanted to do as well. I couldn’t help but smile as I took off in a nice jog first then broke into a run.
Ok, so the park wasn’t exactly home but for a reason it’s where my feet took me.
Hey I was dressed for a nice run anyway.
I was on my third lap around the bike path when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid; after all, there are a lot of silver cars like that. On my fifth lap around though, I couldn’t help but notice it was still there. I kept it in the corner of my after that, watching. It didn’t move. I knew it didn’t belong there either or else it wouldn’t have bolted after John and his buddies went toward it last time.
There was something else different about things this time though.
The park was empty.
It was strange because it was a Saturday afternoon.
Even stranger though was that I wasn’t alone.
There was a lone man sitting on one of the benches. He was reading a paper. It kind of struck me as odd because no one read newspapers any more. Sure they were still available but most people got the news on their Bios or vid screens. I lost interest in the car and kept him in my sights instead. He didn’t seem to be watching me but it was kind of odd. On my seventh lap, I decided that I was going to see if he spooked as easily as the driver. I made it look like I was winded, which I kind of was. I timed it so I stopped fairly close to the bench.
Huffing slightly, I wandered slowly over.
“Tiring” I said, in hopes that I was convincing enough.
I wasn’t.
The man gently folded his paper and I got a better look at him. Slicked back hair, mid-thirties, nice crisp gray suit.
“Now we both know you don’t get winded that easily Miss Daniels”
Shit.
“How do you know my name?”
I went on the defensive.
He chuckled then reached into his suit, pulling out a thin business card. “My name is Rossen, I work for the Administration”
Ok so he didn’t say it was a capital A but it sure felt like that’s how he meant it.
“Which one?” I asked, looking at the card.
Looking but not taking.
“Does it matter?”
“It depends on what you’re here for”
He smiled thinly. “Very good” He stood, straightened the front of his suit. “I’m not here for anything sinister. I was asked to monitor you for a while, keep an eye on things. My colleagues fouled things up last week. I apologize for that”
When he said “colleagues”, he looked over at the car.
So they had been watching me.
“Why am I so interesting?”
“Come now, we both know the answer to that. I mean it’s not every day that an Alpha chooses to forsake the Cube for life with us lowly humans.”
So that’s it.
They were afraid I was a liability too.
Typical.
“I’m not a danger to anyone. I just want to live my life like before.”
“We both know how difficult that could be. The Cube is there to protect your kind, to keep you safe. We don’t want anyone to do anything to you or heaven forbid you do something harmful to others now do we?”
The threat was subtle but it was there. He didn’t come out and say it but I could read between the lines. They were waiting for me to fuck up and as soon as I did, they were going to “deport” me to where I belonged. After all these people didn’t want the Big Bad Dangerous Alphas to be living in their neighbors, threatening their way of life.
“I’m not dangerous and I’ll be careful”
“See that you do” he said, setting the card on the bench. “I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen. If you have any problems, give us a call. You have a good day now”
He nodded curtly then headed toward the car.
I stood and watched as he got inside. I didn’t stop watching until the car was gone out of sight. As soon as he was gone, I picked up the card. There were only two lines on it, Nathaniel Rossen and directly below that, a number to call. Nothing more, nothing less. I thought about ripping it up and throwing it away but I quickly realized that it didn’t matter. Throwing it away wouldn’t get rid of him. Rossen was going to be keeping his eye on me whether I ignored it or not.
Shit, just what I needed.
Sighing heavily, I felt a little sick to my stomach now. Why is it that dickheads always seemed to know how to ruin your day? Now I was in no mood to continue running so I guess it was time to go home. I stuck the card in my back pocket and started walking. I got about ten feet from the bench when my Bio pipped.
More of those stupid numbers.
44 6f 20 6e 6f 74 20 74 72 75 73 74 20
What the hell was with these numbers? I couldn’t help but groan again. I was getting sick and tired of this crap. At first, they were an annoyance but now they were pissing me off. I think I figured them out though and the sender. Now all I had to do was confront him and figure out what the hell his problem was.
Damn it Joe.
Either he was responsible or he could tell me who was.
I was going to find out either way.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Here's Ch.11, sorry I got a bit distracted as of late. Plus I couldn't really figure out Ch.12. I knew how to write this one but not 12 but 13 is pretty good lol. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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11.
Sunday was rather uneventful considering all the things that happened on Saturday.
The Sentinels, the government agent and the new numbers.
Sunday was downright dull in comparison.
I sat around most of the day stewing in my own devices. Carrie tried to convince me to go to the mall with her but I was really looking forward to a “Me Day”. So instead I sat around for a bit, vegging while watching some vids. I was also trying to reconnect with things, including Toby. Synth-pets were weird things. Though my parents had programmed him to accept me as I was now, I was convinced there was still a small part of him that didn’t trust me. He didn’t avoid me or anything but he didn’t follow me around as much as he used too either.
It was as if he knew there was something off about me.
When I told Mom about it during dinner, she told me I was looking into it too much.
What I didn’t tell her about was Agent Rossen.
I wasn’t really sure what to think of the whole thing. I could sorta see where he was coming from, where the government was coming from. I was a liability to them and others. I was also really pissed that they felt they had to spy on me though. It made me a little paranoid for the rest of yesterday, too. I couldn’t help but feel that they were somehow watching me from the vid screen or using my Bio to track my movements and vitals.
It was even more nerve wracking on my way to school this morning.
I couldn’t help but keep looking over my shoulder.
I could swear I saw the silver sedan following me. Then in my first period, I thought I saw it parked across the street.
Yes paranoid.
My paranoia was increased every time I thought about those stupid numbers, too.
What the hell were they?
Who the hell was sending them?
And why?
Today I was bound and determined to find out.
It was perfect too.
My second class of the morning was just getting out. I had a little time to get from there to Joe’s locker. Thankfully it was just right around the corner. I found him busy swapping books, completely oblivious to the world around him. It was kind of how Joe operated. He paid little attention to anything else but his computer skills. He had a bit of a one-track mind like that. He wasn’t always that way though. When we were younger, the three of us---Joe, Ted and myself---used to do a lot of fun things together. Sure most of it was sitting in one of our rooms playing games or reading comic books but it was a lot better than doing nothing. Occasionally though we’d get out and actually do something.
Unfortunately, for Joe and Ted, they didn’t have an athletic bone in their bodies.
I never really did either but I was more active than either of them.
My grandfather had all the credit there.
“Hey. Joe”
He jumped a little at my approach.
“Ben…errr…Beth”
He sounded a bit nervous. Besides lunch and class, the two of us barely spent time together anymore. Well it had only been a few days since I’d been back in school but he seemed to be avoiding me outside of it. Back before Crystal’s death, the three of us used to be inseparable. We used to hang out all the time. It was strange how one event seemed to change everything. Crystal’s death had led to Maddie and me getting together, it had also led to Ted being a total dick. Then things just seemed to go downhill a bit as far as friendship was concerned.
“You and I need to talk” I said, crossing my arms across my chest, awkwardly putting them underneath my breasts.
Joe suddenly lost all the color in his face.
Which looked pretty funny.
It felt strange not to be looking him in the eye anymore as well. He and I always used to be the same height, now his head was at my chest. Bad for me, good for him I’m sure. He was a gentleman though, not looking at all. I could give him kudos for that. Especially after I nearly bitch slapped him the first day back about it.
The boy was learning.
“I gotta get to class,” he said, trying to step around me.
I stopped him with an arm.
“It’ll only take a sec and you’re not in trouble”
He seemed to relax a slight bit. “Thank God, I thought you wanted to know about those stupid pictures?”
“No…I…wait what pictures!”
“Nothing”
I let out a sigh.
Pictures, seriously?
Stay on target girl.
Also never refer to yourself as girl like that again.
Way creepy.
“So if this isn’t about the pictures?”
I pointed down the hall, toward one of the classrooms I knew would be empty this period. As soon as we got inside, the bell rang. Joe seemed to fidget, realizing we were now late for class. We were ok though, it was one of those Alpha perks. Not that I’d ever take advantage of it again but apparently I could be late for class or never show up if I wanted. After all, I didn’t really need the education here. In fact I’d already read the whole curriculum for the semester.
Hey, I had a lot of boring time on my hands.
I steered him to one of the seats in the front row. He sat down while I sat on the corner of the teacher’s desk. It somehow made me feel important.
“I need your help with something”
I took out a pen and a sheet of notebook paper. I could have just pipped him the numbers but I didn’t want to give him any more access to my Bio than he already had.
I quickly jotted down the numbers and handed him the sheet.
“What’s this?” he asked, quickly looking them over.
“You tell me”
He looked at them again, more intently this time. It took him a minute or two because he really seemed to be concentrating. He also looked puzzled but only for a second. I knew he got it when he smiled. He liked puzzles and whenever he solved one, he always got this goofy looking smile.
It was the same one now.
“Well…?”
“Hexadecimal”
“Hex-a-whata?”
He stifled a laugh. “It’s a mathematical code, used in computing. Its old though, barely used anymore. I almost didn’t recognize it”
“But you know it, right?”
He nodded. “Sorta. I mean I could identify it but that’s about all.”
“So you have no idea what it says?” I asked, sighing.
He shook his head. “Sorry”
Damn it.
There goes my only chance.
“However I think I might know someone who does. It’ll take a few days but if it’s all right with you, I’ll pass this on.”
I gave him the ok and he folded the piece of paper, sticking it in his back pocket.
“So where did they come from?”
I shrugged. “No fucking clue. They just popped up the other day, the first one after I got home from the Q. That second one was last weekend right before I started school, I was running in the park, the last one…”
“Wait, you were running!”
I sighed. “Yes Joe, apparently I’m a runner now”
He laughed aloud. It took him a minute or two to stop, annoying the hell out of me in the process.
Laugh it up buddy.
“Sorry” he said, finally stopping. “So the third one?”
“Saturday afternoon, after I was done at the Center. I was in the park again---running---when I ran into this guy” I took out the business and handed it to him.
“This for real?” he asked, looking at the card and raising an eyebrow.
“Apparently” I said with some disdain. “He’s here to make sure I’m not in danger”.
I said “danger” with those little air quote thingies.
Joe scoffed. “More like making sure you’re not a danger to others. Fucking bureaucrats”
That’s what I liked about Joe. Nothing seemed to get past him.
“You mind if I keep this too?” he asked, waving the card about.
“Be my guest”
He pocketed that as well.
“Anyways, those numbers were freaking me out. At first I thought it was you being a dick”
He feigned being offended.
“I would have been a lot more subtle,” he said, laughing again.
I actually laughed with him this time.
It felt good to be laughing with my friend again.
We fell into an awkward silence after that. It lasted for a while, neither one of us saying anything, neither one of us getting up to leave.
“I’m sorry this has been so strange,” I finally said.
“Not strange just different”
I nodded. “Tell me about it. I just want you to know, I’m still the same me. I know I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, the outside is the only thing that’s changed”
He nodded. “Well except for that whole running thing and guys passing around pictures of you in gym class”
As soon as he said that last bit, the color drained from his face again.
“Add that to your list of things to do,” I said sternly “I want you to hunt down every last one of those pics and whoever took them, you got me?”
“Yes ma’am” he eeped.
“Good boy, you’re dismissed now,” I said playfully.
He saluted like a dork and the two of us left the room together.
Pictures.
God I was going to kill someone!!!
Life moved on.
The next few days in school were rather routine. I went to class, people seemed to finally stop whispering and staring and I was accepted. The pictures were gone too, thanks to Joe. My mind was free and clear too. Joe was helping me with my weird number problem, I was back in Sentinel training and John was finally not stalking me. Ok, so stalking was again the wrong term but at least I wasn’t turning a corner and “accidentally” running into him anymore. He was staying on his side of the hall, with his group of friends and I was just trying to be as normal and as human as I could.
Unfortunately, I had another problem now.
Girls.
Ok actually one girl.
Natalie.
I’d heard the story, seen several of those stupid teen vids my sister loved to watch. I used to think it was stupid made up drama those vid creators liked to push down little girls’ throats. You know “oh this is the cliquey thing that they do”. All bull shit stuff. Boy was I ever wrong. It turns out some teenage girls were really like that. Mads I could sorta understand. She was being stupid too but I knew her reasons. Natalie on the other hand was a complete and total mystery to me. I mean before---back when I was Ben---she’d been a complete non-entity to me. Like I said, I wasn’t popular but I wasn’t a loser either. I just existed and as far as she was concerned, I didn’t.
Now things were different.
I was on John’s radar.
I was on her’s too.
It somehow painted me an enemy.
God, girls were stupid.
It wasn’t like she was going out of her way to be a bitch though. It was the little things. Some snide comments in the bath and locker rooms, an occasional stupid note here or there. Yesterday in gym class, I went to change back into my normal clothes and found them drenching wet. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was behind it. Natalie wasn’t hiding it either. Every time she looked in my direction there was a smirk. She wanted me to know it was her. It was just plain dumb. I mean clearly she thought I was a threat. A threat to what I don’t know. I didn’t crave her Queen Bee status and I sure as hell didn’t want her stupid boyfriend.
Today was no different.
Gym was just starting.
I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until I opened my locker. My usual set of clothes was missing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who took them. A quick look around the room confirmed my suspicions. Natalie was over by her locker with her two friends Clara and Diane. All three of them were looking in my direction, smirking. So once again, I was the butt of their cruel petty garbage.
Fucking children.
Groaning, I shut my locker. The other girls around me were already dressed now. It didn’t take many of them long to get their clothes. When Miss Marx came in to see if we were ready to go, she gave me a cross look.
“Suit up Carson”
“I seem to have misplaced my gym clothes, ma’am,” I said, looking slightly sheepish.
“Really?”
She looked unconvinced.
I shrugged.
She looked quickly over at Natalie.
She got it.
Miss Marx was a bit on the young side. She’d only been here about a year or so, straight out of her career placement internship. I vaguely remember from back in her school days, she was only a few years older than us after all. She was one of the star players on the girl’s Holo-Net teams.
Quick rundown on Holo-Net Ball. Like Free Ball, it was played with no gravity. Unlike Free Ball though, it was played with a holographic net that bisected the room. Similar to the glass wall that separated the two halves of the gym. Unlike the wall though, it was always meant to be transparent. In fact, you could walk right through said net. There were two teams on either side. The goal was to try and get the ball through the net and keep it over there, each time the ball passed through the net it changed colors. Red on one side, green on the other. The Red team wanted their ball to stay red over on the green side and vice versa. The longer the ball stayed your color, the more points you got.
It sounds simple but trust me it’s not.
You see the ball could only pass through certain parts of the net to actually change color and every time you scored a point, that spot changed.
The only one who saw those spots were the teams defending their own sides.
See; very difficult.
Ok tangent over.
“Miss St. James, have you seen Miss Carson’s gym clothes?”
Natalie feigned ignorance. “No ma’am, the Dite must have lost them”
Dite.
One of the more derogative terms for a female Alpha.
A nasty, shortened form of Aphrodite.
It’s the equivalent of calling someone a bimbo.
Except of course, there was no such thing for an Alpha. Unless of course she chose to act like one.
Miss Marx gave her a nasty look and snapped. “I will not have that term used in my presence Miss St. James. My sister is an Aphrodite I’ll have you know”
Natalie knew that of course.
Every one did.
The Marx siblings were legendary at our school. Melissa Marx the star Net Baller and her brother Craig, the God of Free Ball. Except Craig was now Lark. Lark Metallic, the premiere Net Baller. She was huge, had massive endorsements, her face was just about everywhere these days. It was hard not to see it on the Vid screens around the Sectors. Just like Maddie’s sister but unlike their relationship, Miss Marx and her sister were on good terms. Last year Lark was here for a week helping the girl’s team in training sessions. It was big news; all the vid reporters were here covering it.
It was strange how everyone seemed to forget Craig.
Lark had tried to be normal too. She had tried coming to school here as well. Back then, she’d been Jessica. Unlike me though, she only lasted a few days. It must have been hard on her. She’d been the big man on campus and now she was a bombshell hottie. Miss Marx had been extra supportive of course but it didn’t work.
It seemed to tell me one thing though.
It told me that Miss Marx was sympathetic to my plight.
She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Ok girls, hit the court. Carson, I can get you a spare set if you want or a pass to the library?”
I shook my head. “I think I’ll just take a pass session”
She nodded then filed out of the room with the other girls.
Pass sessions were free periods.
Technically anyone could take them but you were only allowed so many a semester. Basically they were a “get out of class” free card.
It meant now I had a free hour or so to do what I wanted.
Unfortunately, for me what I wanted to do was actually attend gym class.
It was that urge of mine again.
I needed to be active.
I needed to run.
I sat on the bench and sighed heavily. I dropped my head, running my fingers through my hair. A moment later, I realized I wasn’t alone. I saw a pair of white shoes in front of me. Following them up, I noticed a short girl standing in front of me. Well all of them were short now but this one was quite a bit shorter than most. I knew her from class, Clarissa Morris. She was one of those quiet, mousy girls. Cute in her own way, a little over weight but nothing to an over extreme. I knew her for another reason though too. She was the girl that Joe couldn’t stop talking about.
“Hey Clarissa”
She looked down at her feet while I made sure to look at her face, smiling as I did so.
Mom and Dad always taught me to be polite after all.
“They put your clothes in Natalie’s locker,” she said softly, barely above a whisper.
“What was that?”
I’d heard her of course but I wanted her to speak up for her own good.
“I saw them,” she said a little louder. “People don’t usually notice me because I’m so quiet and small. I usually hide when I see Natalie…anyway, I saw them go into your locker and take your clothes.”
I looked at my locker. The lock was still pretty secure.
I’m guessing someone must have hacked it.
So Natalie wasn’t any idiot after all.
“And my clothes are in her locker?”
She nodded her head softly.
This time I smirked. Hey, I wasn’t some super hacker genius that could get into these locks. I usually had Joe around to do stupid things like that. Not that I ever would of course. I stood up anyway and walked over to her locker. Staring at it, I could see something like trying a conventional way to get in was pretty pointless.
“Can you hack it?”
Clarissa had clearly followed me.
“Nope”
“If you give me a moment I might be able to work something out,” she said quietly.
I grabbed the door handle and gave it a tug, ripping the door clear off its hinges.
“Where’s the fun it that” I said with triumph.
The look of shock on Clarissa’s face was priceless.
I found my clothes stuffed in the back, behind Natalie’s backpack.
The little bitch.
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
I shrugged. “She’s the thief; I’m just taking back what’s mine”
“What about the door?”
“It just fell off its hinges when I grabbed the handle,” I said innocently.
She caught on quick.
“I think that’s what I saw too,” she said softly.
She shook her head and spoke more confidently.
“No, that’s definitely what I saw”
I quickly dressed, putting my normal clothes into my locker. After I did that, Clarissa fiddled with the lock for a few minutes. When she was done, she smiled.
“I put it on a rotating algorithm, now no one can hack it. A new password will be sent to your Bio on a regular basis. You’re just going to have to learn a new password every week”
“Not a problem.”
“Really?”
I laughed. “Alphas remember.”
She looked genuinely surprised. “You guys can do that?”
“There isn’t much we can’t do,” I said with a laugh.
The two of us left the locker room after that. When we got to the gym, Miss Marx smiled. Natalie and her friends looked shocked. I did rather enjoy seeing the color drain from her face when she realized what I must have done. She couldn’t say anything about it of course though because she’d be admitting to a crime. Ok so I committed a slight one too but we were both damned as it were. That didn’t stop her from trying to get Miss Marx to allow her to go back to the locker room though. I couldn’t hear the conversation but Natalie went off in a huff.
She shot me daggers the rest of the class.
It made it all the more satisfying though when I saw her reaction after class in the locker room. She was positively livid when she found her locker without a door. The look she gave me was priceless. I shrugged and completely ignored it. Miss Marx gave me a triumphant look before trying to calm down a rather frantic Natalie.
“She’ll seek retribution,” said Clarissa.
“Let her”
I wasn’t afraid of her.
I finished getting changed just as the tone sounded.
Clarissa started toward the door. I caught up quickly.
“So, you want to sit with us at lunch?”
She nodded numbly.
Ok so this incident wasn’t a total loss after all.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Here's Ch.12, only a few days later than I would have liked but I finally got it done. Sorry about the delay, as I said in my blog I was having internet connectivity issues and when I finally fixed it I realized what a moron I was for not noticing a simple cord being loose. Enough of that though. I have a new plan for this story, which will end its first part of the tale after Ch.15. I will take a break where I want to pursue something else then I'll write the second half of this story, most likely consisting of 15 more chapters. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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12.
The rest of the week and most of the week that followed went by without much incident. The retribution that Clarissa claimed Natalie was going to rain down on me never came. Sure there were a lot of sneers and dirty looks but nothing life threatening. Word did spread about the “locker room incident” though. People now seemed to think I was a force to be reckoned with. In the hallways, most guys gave me a wide berth while a lot of girls stopped to congratulate me on a job well done.
It turns out Natalie was a bit of a bitch to everyone.
So I wasn’t so special after all.
I think I’m gonna cry.
It was kind of funny how she operated. I think I mentioned before that it reminded me a bit of those teen vids that Carrie watches. Well it was exactly like those, almost as if Natalie was using them as a script for her own stupid antics. It was the bullying and the teasing and what she thought were intimidating looks. It was sad really. I was waiting for the bucket of pig’s blood on my head. The glares got even worse when she realized they were having no effect on me.
It was comical really.
The little human trying to pick a fight with the Alpha.
Oh, ugg…that sounded way too Alpha of me.
Sorry.
Besides Natalie though, things were good.
Clarissa nicely filled the spot in our group vacated by Ted and Maddie. Once you got her to open up, she was actually pretty cool. She’s a techie like Joe. The two of them together were really cute, too. Listening to them rattle off all their mumbo jumbo and practically salivating as they did it. The scary part was that I kind of understood some of it. Well when they talked about numbers anyway. Numbers were good for me. I seemed to get them better than anything else. Speaking of numbers, Ted finally cracked the mystery of the hex code.
Once he knew what he was doing that is.
It turns out he wasn’t lying about it being archaic.
He only revealed to me yesterday that he cracked it.
“Simple know that I know what I’m doing” were his exact words.
Now I knew what I was getting:
DANGER.
THAT WAS CRUEL.
DO NOT TRUST.
Danger was an easy one though I’m not sure what I was in danger of. Joe didn’t seem to know either which scared him a little. That Was Cruel was a little more ambiguous that is until I remembered when I’d gotten the message. It was after I showed off in front of the Free Ballers that day in the park. God that felt like ages ago now. The last message had been in the park too, right after my talk with Agent Rossen. So the mystery of the messages were solved. Joe managed to write me an algorithm to decode them too. He downloaded it into my Bio. Now whenever I got a new code, it would automatically translate for me. Now more funky messages I didn’t understand. I made him teach me the code anyways though. Who knows, maybe I wanted to send my own message back.
That led to our second mystery to solve though.
Who sent them?
Joe had his theories.
According to him, there were only so many people smart enough to even remember hex code. Hell, his own “source” didn’t even know how to crack it at first. Joe complied a short list, all Z3s and some of the smartest men in the Metro. Outside of The Cube of course. He would get back to me on it as soon as he had more to tell. Which was Joe speak for “I’m narrowing things down”? It was funny. I was the only one who could ever truly translate ‘Joe speak’. Ted used to have a hell of a time with it. He never really had much of an imagination honestly. He was one of those “I see, I get it” kind of people, no room for creativity or individualism.
I don’t think he truly loved Maddie.
He wanted her because she was pretty and shiny.
He practically self destructed when she wasn’t interested.
He was such a fucking child.
Well screw him.
We both lost.
I could only imagine what he’d think of Maddie if he saw her now. For one he’d barely recognize her. Hell, I barely did and I saw her every day. Her tats and piercings seemed to multiply every day and she was thin now. Well she’d always been a little thin but now she was scary thin. There was this attitude now, too. Speaking out in class, failing grades, synth cigs, foul language. I mean sure I swear but Maddie had a mouth now that would make a sailor blush. She didn’t even call herself Maddie anymore. She made that clear one day last week when one of the teachers called her name. She made it very clear her name was Zee now.
What the fuck kind of name was that?
I guess it was progression.
I called her Mads. Her new friends were calling her “Madz” and now she apparently took the “Mad” out of it altogether.
The girl needed help.
It was like someone brain jacked my girlfriend.
Well, former girlfriend.
Thinking about it all though helped me get through other things.
Like Sentinel training.
Last weekend had been more orientation stuff. It’s too boring to get into but let’s just say it was pretty much a repeat of the same from the week before. This weekend---today---was supposed to be the nit and gritty of it all, Ryan’s words not mine.
“Good morning Lady and gentlemen”.
There were six of us standing in a line, Ryan in front of us. A few seconds ago, there was a quick intro around the room. My fellow Probates were all male and all very human. Four of them were from different Zones, two Z1s, a Z4 and a Z5. The fifth guy was a Z2er like me. Mark Ross. I think I briefly mentioned good ole Mark back before finding out I was even in the program. Mark was one of the last guys in the waiting room with me actually. It seemed he was the only one who made it beyond myself. The look of surprise on his face only a few moments ago was pretty priceless.
Not too many girls made it to Sentinels.
None were Alphas.
Mark was still slightly staring at me.
“Probate Ross, do you have a problem with Probate Daniels?”
“No sir” said Mark, snapping to attention. “I’m just a bit surprised to see her, sir”
Ryan nodded then addressed us all. “Probate Daniels is an Alpha as most of you mutts can see but you are to treat her like you would any other Probate. Do I make myself clear?”
There was an “aye sir” from all of them.
There were glares from two.
The Z1ers.
Spooners were snobs; everyone knew that. They were privileged little snots who thought they were God’s gift to the world. Children of the Administration, they usually got the best of everything. The best clothes, the best education, the best that money could buy. They were silver spoon brats, which earned them a bit of a nickname in the other Zones.
Spooners.
You could barely tell the two of them apart to be honest.
Same hairstyle.
Same striking blue eyes.
Same sneers.
“Listen up everyone, from this day forward the seven of us are a unit. As such we will move as one, talk as one and fight as one. If one of you fails, all of you fail”
There was a collective bit of mumbling at that last part.
The Spooners louder than the others.
“As a unit” Ryan continued. “You’ll each be given a specific call sign. This name will be a unique identifier for when we’re in the field together. It will be the only name you have from this day forward for as long as you’re with me. Do I make myself clear?”
More “yes sirs”
Ryan dropped the next ball on us only a moment later. Apparently, the names had already been chosen for each of us and there was no changing them. The Spooners definitely didn’t like that. Ryan had apparently compiled them while we’re been in orientation the two weeks before. He apparently hadn’t really thought them out well enough though.
The tall kid from Z5---Griggs---was now Stretch.
The solid, muscled Z4---Ford---was Ox.
Z1 #1---Jackson---was now Hawk.
Z1 #2---Hines---was now Falcon.
My good buddy Mark was now Spider.
Last but not least.
“Carson from now on, you’re Enigma”
“What the hell” snapped Hawk. “I get a fucking bird and she gets a cool name like that?”
Ryan snapped around on him fast. “You have a problem with birds, Hawk?”
I saw the tattoo on Ryan’s arm a second before the others.
A large black bird.
A raven.
Guess what his call sign was.
“Why Enigma though?” asked Hawk.
Ryan smiled. “That’s for you fools to find out”
We were broken into pairs after that. Ryan said he wanted to get a gauge on our combat abilities, specifically how much hand-to-hand we could do without any actual training. After announcing that we’d be rotating partners every ten minutes, the Spooners groaned again.
“It’s not fair. She’s an Alpha. She’s got a serious advantage”
This time it was Falcon.
“And yet we’re required to handle all threats, human and Alpha alike. You lot are privileged to have Enigma here. No other unit has an Alpha to practice with. Through her, you’ll learn their strength and their weaknesses. You’ll know what to do if you’re ever in the unfortunate situation of running into an Alpha and getting on their bad side”
“Does that happen?” Stretch asked, looking very nervous.
“Sometimes” said Ryan “usually it’s a misunderstanding on their part, some drunk accident. Combat training to fight them is only one of our weapons though”
Ryan walked over to a locker on the far side of the large training room. He placed his hand on a pad and the door opened. Inside, I could make out rows of strange silver jumpsuits. The chest, arms and legs were padded slightly. He took one out and tossed it toward Stretch. Stretch strained slightly as he caught it in clumsy fingers.
“This boys and girl is am SAS, Shock and Absorb Suit. It’s specially designed to protect its wearer---us---from potentially life threatening blows from a larger opponent, i.e. an Alpha”
Boy that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
He reached into the locker again, taking out a pair of bulky looking gloves and a strange glowing baton.
“Shock gloves” he said, slipping one on.
A moment later, there was a light hum and each individual finger seemed to glow for a second.
“Get a hold of someone with these and its pretty much lights out. The current in these gloves is enough to take down a full size Adonis”
“And that?” asked Hawk, putting to the baton.
Ryan smirked.
He walked over to Hawk. Before the jerk could react, Ryan gently tapped him in the stomach with it. Hawk immediately doubled over and puked. Very unpleasant to say the least. It got a few laughs, though.
“We call this little baby the Sick Stick” Ryan waved it around. “I don’t think I need to tell you what it does”
There were murmurs all around.
I watched as he put each item back into the locker, carefully memorizing what they looked like. I definitely didn’t want to be on the receiving end of either the gloves or the baton. I might have speed and strength but I knew there was no way I could withstand either of those. Ryan seemed to notice me watching and gave a nod, confirming my fear.
Locker Stuff bad for me.
“Ok now that you’ve seen the gear, let’s see who among you will earn the right to use it next week”
The sparring began.
I was paired with Mark first. I felt bad for him. Hell, I felt bad for all of them. After all, I was stronger and faster and I had some training. Mark tried to stay on his feet but it really was no contest. Stretch lasted a little longer. Hawk and Falcon fought like they talked. They were all show and very little action. Neither one of them proved much of a challenge. Ox was the best. He lasted nearly three minutes.
After the first fights, things rotated again.
We sparred for an hour.
The boys started to pant and sweat.
Me, I could go all day if I wanted.
At one point, they convinced Ryan to let them all come at me at once. He only allowed it after I told him it was ok. It was a valiant effort but in the end, futile. The only one who got close to taking me down was Falcon and only because he tried to cop a feel on one of my boobs. It took me by surprise. A few seconds later though, I flipped the little prick over my head like a rag doll. The satisfying sound of him hitting the mat made me smile.
After that final charge, Ryan called it.
“You guys are pathetic,” he said, shaking his head. “Ox, well done. The rest of you, you shame the human race.”
There were a bunch of groans.
Ox was the only one smiling.
After being told to hit the showers, Ryan stopped me at the door.
“You were holding back,” he said.
I shrugged. “I didn’t want them to hate me too much”
“They’re your teammates; that’s good but don’t forget in the end they’re competition too. By the time you become a full Cadet, at least three of them will be gone. At this moment and time, they’re the enemy too. Don’t forget that”
I nodded. “Thanks, Ryan”
“Now hit the shower,” he said, smacking me hard on the butt.
It was a knee jerk reaction.
A coach did it to his male players all the time.
I think I turned every shade of red imaginable.
Ryan took the whole of the purple spectrum I think.
He stumbled out an apology.
I slipped into my private locker area, my heart thumping in my chest.
Shit.
Stop blushing idiot.
“Beth, wow look at you!”
I was just walking into Deena’s office, feeling better than I’d felt in a while. I will not admit it was because Ryan just smacked my ass. I’m not even going to think about that. Nope that little tap didn’t even happen. It wasn’t even a tap really, just a knee jerk reaction. He apologized for it too. I don’t even care about it. Sure, I blushed. He blushed too. Wait why did he blush? Did that mean that he wanted to smack my butt? That maybe liked smacking my butt. Did I want him to like smacking my butt?
Son of a bitch.
Why am I still thinking about this.
Stop.
Stop.
STOP.
“What’s wrong with me?” asked, responding to her happy greeting.
I looked myself over, hoping that I wasn’t wearing my panties on the outside of my pants or anything. I had been a little distracted getting dressed after all.
She laughed. “Nothing’s wrong, you’re just glowing a bit”
Shit.
Stop glowing Damnit.
“It was just a good day at The Center”
I quickly filled her in on everything. I left out the butt slap though. I think she knew there something else too because she gave me a strange look. She didn’t pursue the inquiry though, so thank god for that.
“So Enigma huh?”
I shrugged.
“I think it sounds cool,” I said, smiling. “Mysterious”
I didn’t tell her we were planning to get tats. It was something the guys decided just after we all left the locker rooms. They wanted to get something to solidify our new team. Tattoos aren’t like they used to be. It’s nothing permanent anymore. In fact, much like makeup and hair color, it was controlled by our Bios. It was just one of those useless apps my mother never thought I needed. Of course, that was before being an Alpha. I had all those silly apps now. Not that I’d ever use any of them but Mom thought I was responsible enough now to use them without abuse.
I already did it.
Thankfully, I had long sleeves or else Deena would have seen the purple question mark was currently adorning my left shoulder.
Hey, the guys got cool animals except for Stretch of course.
I couldn’t wait to see what he’d come up with.
“So tell me about school?”
“I made a new friend,” I said happily.
I quickly filled her in on Clarissa.
This should have been a part of our conversation last week but Deena had been swamped with work so she had to cancel. She still looked swamped. She looked tired; there were circles under her eyes that not even her makeup could hide. Her hair was a little messy too. Not the professional looking woman I’m used to seeing. She was still gorgeous of course, just a little worn out now. I wanted to ask her if she was ok but she would have quickly reminded me that we were here to talk about me and not her.
Telling her about Clarissa though led to Natalie.
“What do you think about that?”
I shrugged. “She’s a nuisance but hardly a problem. If she starts shit, I can handle it”
“Nuisance or not it could still be dangerous”
“I’ll be careful”
“I know girls that age, hell I was one. It’s not easy and girl problems aren’t like boy problems. If she feels threatened by you, she’ll do everything in her power to get rid of you”
“She can try but I’m not exactly like normal girls”
Deena nodded. “Just be careful”
She changed the subject after that.
She went back to asking me the clinical questions. How am I doing, how am I adjusting. How is life at home? All the blah blah. I answered the same. Everything was fine. Ok so I’d never get the hang of wearing makeup and long hair was a pain in the ass but life was good again. I was finally starting to adjust to this new body. There were still some things I refused though. Still no makeup, still no girly things like dresses and skirts but I wasn’t as alarmed anymore by looking at this body. Yes, it did scare me a little but I accepted it as my own now.
Still human.
Well in a matter of speaking.
We wrapped the meeting up quickly after that. When I got down to the lobby, I waited at my usual spot for Mom. When she didn’t show, I pipped her. I got her message a moment later. Apparently she was caught up in a project and couldn’t get me. Which meant I got to run home.
YES.
I could have jumped for joy as I headed out the front door. I started my stretching exercises. I was halfway through them when a familiar car pulled up. If I had heat vision, I would have burned a hole through it. I definitely would have fried the foul thing behind the wheel.
OH.
HELL
NO.
I stopped stretching and walked up to the car, holding back the urge to turn it into scrap.
The window rolled down.
The thing inside spoke:
“Hey…uh…buddy”
Buddy.
“Hello Person who I do not know”
“I deserved that,” said the man who pretended to be my father.
“No, you deserve a lot worse but I’m not supposed to do anything violent to humans”
Ok, I’m being a bitch but I have my reasons.
The last time I saw Dad was the day he and Mom showed up at The Q.
That awkward and strained moment. Dad could barely look at me then. Now it was clear he was trying but I didn’t give a damn. He and I had always been pretty close, well when we were younger. As I got older and started to stray toward my grandfather’s path in life, Dad sorta stopped trying. So I was used to him ignoring me but I wasn’t used to him running away from home for nearly three weeks.
“Can we talk?”
“We are talking”
“I meant someplace private”
“You do not want to be anywhere private with me right now”
I was hurting.
A lot.
I didn’t want to hear whatever bull shit excuse this man might come up with.
“I really need to talk. I want to explain some things. I need to explain them, to help you understand my absence”
He leaned forward and I saw how he looked.
One word:
Awful.
The last few weeks had definitely not been kind to my father. Like Deena, he looked exhausted. Bags under his eyes, his hair unkempt. He looked thinner too, like he hadn’t been eating and he had an unshaved face. My father was always a very clean, very well groomed kind of man. Except of course when he got lost in his work but even then, it would only take him about an hour to get back to his usual look. He never went out in public looking bad though.
My hard shell cracked.
Whatever anger I felt for this man was gone now.
Now I just wanted to make sure he was ok.
“Holy shit, Dad!”
“Watch your mouth young lady!”
I pulled open the car door and without thinking, I wrapped him in a tight hug. He returned the gesture. We hugged for a couple of minutes before I finally broke it. Public displays of affection weren’t illegal but they were frowned upon. This world and all their stupid rules.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant but it hasn’t been easy”
“It’s ok, Dad”
He shook his head. “No it’s not”
He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
Like me, Dad had had it rough.
Crystal’s death had been a blow.
Not just for Maddie’s family but for mine as well.
Dad invented the car that crashed after all. The mechanism that failed---the one that caused the crash---he owned the patent on it. So after her death, there was a small inquiry. Dad was called before the Administration. There was an investigation. When it was done, it was ruled an accident but Dad took a blow. An accident, yes, but because it was Dad’s device, he took some of the blame officially. Maddie’s parents didn’t blame him of course but some of his colleagues did.
“The accident” he said “then what happened with you…it was just too much”
I nodded. “I said it was ok and it is. You know why it is?”
“No, why?”
“Because Alphas are Never Wrong”
Ok so I threw the Truths at him.
It seemed to work.
He smirked then both of us starting laughing.
It was nice to hear Dad laugh again.
“So what do you and your mother usually do after one of these meetings?”
I shrugged. “We go home.”
He nodded. “You want to go get lunch. Give me time to get to know my new daughter?”
“I’m still the same me”
“I know. That came out wrong…”
He sighed heavily.
He’s trying. I’ll give him props for that.
“Sure, I’d love to go to lunch with you”
The smile on his face was worth it. Dad put the car in auto, programmed it for the nearest café and we sat back as it drove. The ride was quiet. Neither of us knew what to say. Hey, it was a start. One step at a time. I was just happy to have my father back in my life.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the not too distant future, evolution has taken humanity down a different path. In a society where gender is controlled with numbers, one young man finds that being evolved might not be such a good thing.
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Author's Note: Sorry for the delay...its actually been one month since posting Ch.12. I'm not sure why it took so long to get this one to be honest. I was hoping to have it up sooner but truthfully I was just too lazy to write it lol. After this there will be two chapters of this current part of Clownfish left. I'm still going to write it but the rest of it will probably be published under a different title, sometime down the road in the future. I have a pretty good idea where I want to break the narrative too, some of you might be able to guess as soon as you read this chapter. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing.
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Ch.13
“I think you people thrive on torturing me”
I was standing in front of the mirror, trying my hardest to hide every bit of flesh that this so-called bathing suit was currently exposing. I mean whoever created this thing and thought a few pieces of fabric was proper swim wear should be shot. No matter which way I turned my body, there was no doubt that every bit of me was on display.
Bathing suit my ass.
“It’s not that bad sis,” said Carrie, suppressing one of those little girl giggles of hers.
I think she was enjoying it far too much.
“Not that bad, you’re kidding right?”
The look Clarissa was giving me was pretty similar. Both of them clearly thought I was being a prude or something. There was however nothing prudish about what I was wearing. Nor was there anything prudish about my attitude concerning it. I was perfectly in the right thinking that this thing was two tiny bits of cloth held up by tiny bits of string. I still couldn’t believe I let them talk me into this stupid thing in the first place.
The two of them had conspired against me.
Every year the whole of the Inter population in our Metro and others as well convened on Metro One for a big field trip. Of course, it wasn’t a field trip per se, more like a get together for all the Metros in the area. This year I think there were going to be three Metros in attendance, ours, Metro 36 and Metro 92. They were closest Metros to us. Most of the time we didn’t really interact with one another---the Metros I mean. So this was a pretty big deal.
Three days and two nights.
Of course nearly a day and a half of it is on board the zip line to get there.
It was an even bigger deal for me this year though.
Besides it being the first time I’d ever left our Metro to go anywhere, I wasn’t just going as a student. Last night I received word from Ryan. Apparently, our squad was chosen to provide security for the trip. So not only was I going to be there---not having a good time with my friends---I’d have to be working as well.
Of course, none of that seemed to get through my sister’s thick skull.
It was well known that Metro One had some of the best synthetic beaches around.
I’m not sure how she roped Clarissa into her little scheme though.
“I think it might be a little too much, you know, for your brother though.”
Clarissa, ever the voice of reason.
She got me, she understood. I might be a girl now but there was still the boy lurking inside. Sure, I’d been Beth for nearly a month now, hell, more than that now but I’m not sure I was ready for this. I think Carrie knew that too, at least a small part of her. She was just excited that I could be her life size doll again. What with school and Sentinel training on the weekends, she and I didn’t get to spend a lot of time together anymore. She practically had to drag me out of bed this morning for this little shopping excursion of hers.
It was her morning.
She had the whole thing planned out.
We were to spend all day in Z6; acting like the teenagers, we were supposed to be.
Well teens and one persistent little girl.
“It’s so perfect though. It shows off your body really well, I mean you’ll be beating them off with a stick in that”
That’s what I was afraid of.
“Tell you what,” I said, concealing the hologram of the suit. “You look for the bathing suit; I’ll go to the hardware store and get the stick.”
I stepped off the pad, sighing as I did so.
The hologram of the suit was bad enough but I could only imagine how embarrassed I’d be if I actually had to wear that in public. It was bad enough that I had to strip down to my underwear to stand on the holo pad in the first place. Most of the time I just did all my shopping from my wall vid. Seeing the outfits on my little avatar was a lot easier because if it looked bad there I knew it would look bad on me. Carrie however vetoed that idea immediately. She wanted me to experience shopping like most girls my age. It was a lie, of course. What she really wanted was an excuse to go to the mall.
What with both our parents working non-stop these days, I was stuck in babysitter mode again.
She used that against me.
She was going to the mall and if I wanted to make sure she was not in danger, I’d just have to go with her.
The conniving little snot.
“Are we done trying to find me the greatest swimsuit ever now?”
“It was the most amazing swimsuit ever” said my sister “and not by a long shot”
She coaxed me back up on the pad. I shot a pleading look at Clarissa but I wasn’t going to get any sympathy from her. She and Carrie were like two peas from the same pod. Things became a bit of a blur after that. I’m not sure how many suits I tried on afterwards but they were bound and determined to find one, regardless if I liked it or not. I couldn’t help but wonder who this trip was really for, them or me. Out of all the girl things, I don’t think I’ll ever understand the need to shop. Back when I was a guy, I’d go into a store, find some clothes and leave.
An hour tops.
We’d been here nearly two hours and we were only in one store.
Crazy.
I’d been a girl for nearly a month or more and I still didn’t understand it.
Finally, we found the right one though.
It was black.
It also covered all my assets completely.
I’m not sure if the two of them were happy but this wasn’t about them in the end. It was my body and I’d wear what the hell I wanted.
“You sure we can’t look…,” asked my sister as we finally left the story.
“Carrie, I appreciate how much fun you’re having but the decision is made”
She looked a little hurt but she’d get over it.
Victory for me.
However short lived it was.
Because apparently we were far from done.
We flitted from store to store after that. The two of them were convinced I needed a whole new wardrobe even though the trip was only a few days. I mean how many damn times did they expect me to change my clothes? I tried to use that logic with them but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Carrie was loving it and Clarissa seemed to be on Cloud Nine. She confessed earlier that this was the first time she’d ever been “shopping with the girls”. I felt a little bad about it. I mean though Maddie had semi-hung with us before we “dated”, she still had girl friends. Of course, as soon as I changed she dumped them as fast as she dumped me.
Zee had all new buddies now.
An hour after leaving the Swim Suit Shack, we were on our third store.
Lingerie.
My sister had run off, leaving Clarissa and me alone browsing the bra section.
Color me embarrassed.
And trust me I was.
I usually did all this shopping on the Vid screen.
“Thanks” she said, smiling.
“For what?”
“Being my friend”
I hugged her. Girls apparently hugged a whole hell of a lot more than guys. Say what you will about not changing my behavior but I sure hugged a lot more lately. I couldn’t remember the last time either Joe or Ted hugged me. In fact, I’m not sure I ever hugged a guy before, besides my dad or grandfather. It felt kind of nice being on a friendly basis like that with someone. Though it was slightly comical too. Clarissa’s head rested under my breasts as we embraced.
She was a short one.
“This is the set,” said Carrie, returning with a pale pink panty and bra.
I couldn’t help but groan.
She handed them to me.
Unlike most other stores, there was no dressing pad. There were dressing rooms but there was no need. I knew my breast size and I also knew that the set she was handing me was going to fit. The good thing about Alphas was as soon as their body changed, it never adjusted itself. I would have this body for the rest of my life. Sure, I’d appear to age slightly but I’d never get older in the sense that humans would. Even Ted’s mom---she was my parents age---except she looked to be in her mid-twenties. I could never figure out how that didn’t freak Ted out. Sure he’d grown up with it but still having a hot and sexy Mom like that would have freaked me the hell out.
“Great” I said, grabbing several of the sets I was looking at, blushing. “We’re done here right!”
Carrie rolled her eyes. “You’re such a boy”
“Remind me to take you here when you start to develop and I’ll embarrass the hell out of you too”
“Really?” she asked enthusiastically.
I groaned as I went to pay for my purchases.
It was nearly noon by the time the three of us left the lingerie store. We made a bee line toward the food court.
Hey, a girl has to eat.
It was starting to get pretty packed, too. It was, after all, a mall. Sure the entire Zone was all commercial and there were several food courts here. This one however was more frequented by teenagers. There were several food shops spread over three levels. Back when I was Ben---when I actually came here---I frequented the ones on the second floor. They were usually the more greasier places. Now however I could barely stomach most of that crap. I had a much healthier diet now thanks in no small part to my need to be physically fit. Sure I could eat that crap and nothing would happen to my awesome figure but my body just couldn’t seem to take it anymore.
I dragged my two companions to a couple of nice healthy spots on the first level. I had a nice charge line when it came to food. Because I was an Alpha, the government gave me an allowance. It was a little unfair but they tried to do everything they could to make us comfortable. Everything to abide by the Truths after all. It was supposed to be just for me but that didn’t stop me from buying them lunch too. Hey if I had it, I was going to use it where I saw fit.
We found a table near the railing.
Carrie always liked to sit there.
“Where the hell do you put it all?” asked Clarissa as she looked at the food overflowing my tray.
“What do you mean?”
“If I ate that much it would all go to my butt”
“She’s a machine,” said my sister “She’s been eating us out of house and home. You should see her at dinner, she eats twice as much”
I gave her a playful shove which caused a girlish giggle.
“I have a different metabolism than you guys. I burn a lot more energy now too so I need to eat like an elephant”
“Must be nice. Eating all you want and not gaining a pound”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care about things like that”
“I find that hard to believe”
I shrugged again. “This is who I am now. The perks of being me”
No point getting jealous Rissa, we can’t compete with Miss Super Pants here”
Both girls laughed.
I stuck my tongue out at them.
Which of course caused them to laugh harder.
It was kind of infectious because I was laughing too.
We were half way through the merriment when I sensed a disturbance in the force.
Yes, I said Force.
Hey, Star Wars is still around.
Out of nowhere, they seemed to come, the flock following their demented leader. I’m not sure why they stopped at our table though.
“Wow Sasquatch, piggy much”
“Good afternoon to you too, Natalie” I said, not really meaning it.
She ignored the greeting. “I mean I’ve Alphas are pigs but that’s just excessive, you should really consider seeing someone about that”
I promised myself I wasn’t going to let her push me into a fight. It was petty to argue with her. She was a gnat to me. I could squish her like a bug, literally.
“Oh I see you brought the loser squad with you,” she said, looking at Clarissa. Then she directed her attention to Carrie. “Oh is this a Junior Loser in training?”
Ok, insult me all you want but going after my sister.
I opened my mouth to reply but Carrie beat me to it.
“Says the girl wearing that skirt with that top. News flash, missy, that look went out of style two days ago. And don’t get me started on those shoes. You call me a loser, look in the mirror the next time you dress yourself.”
The look on Natalie’s face was priceless but not as priceless as her two friends who smirked and actually laughed slightly. Her glaring shut them up. She was beet red though. I would be too if I just got owned by an eight year old. It was classic though. I didn’t know Carrie had it in her, but apparently, when she went into a fight she went in guns blazing.
You could almost see the smoke coming out of Natalie’s ears.
“Listen here you little bitch” she snapped.
“Watch it” I warned grabbing the edge of the table. “Choose your next words carefully, human”
Ok so I didn’t pull the species card much.
In fact never.
But this girl was starting to piss me off.
A look of fear was clearly present on the faces of her friends.
“Come on Nat, let’s go”
“Yeah, Three Truths”
Natalie fumed. “This is worthless anyways. John is waiting. You know John, My Boyfriend. Not that you know anything about that, you freak”
As if on cue, he appeared. I’m not sure where he’d been hiding but suddenly I felt him come up behind me. He wrapped his strong arms around me from behind, kissing me on the cheek before dropping into the chair next to me.
“Hey babe” said Ryan, grabbing one of fries. “Sorry I’m late”
My whole body was stiff.
What the.
Where the.
Heart racing, tingling with excitement.
“Hi” I said, recovering quickly, taking his hand gently in mine.
The look on Natalie’s face was priceless. She stood there, mouth slightly open.
“Didn’t you have somewhere to be?” asked Clarissa, sensing we now had the upper hand.
“This is far from over” she said before turning and storming off.
Her two friends continued to stare at Ryan as they walked away. One of which---unbeknownst to Natalie---gave me the thumbs up.
Ryan held my hand and kept his arm around me until they were out of sight. Then rather abruptly, he moved away. My body twitched, longing for the contact again.
“Sorry about that Enigma” he said “I saw you there and them and never leave a team mate when they’re down.”
I’m not sure I was down per se.
“Thanks for the save boss” I said softly.
He nodded, standing as he did so. “Well I’ll see you at training later”
With that he was gone, just as quickly as he appeared.
I couldn’t help but watch him go, shuddering slightly.
Damn it, what the hell is wrong with me.
I wasn’t the only one watching as both my companions watched him leave too.
“Who was that?” asked Clarissa, smiling.
“No one” I said, blushing.
“No one just doesn’t come out of nowhere to rescue you,” said my sister with a sinister smile of her own.
I shrugged. “He’s my Training Officer.”
“Sign me up for the Sentinels then,” said Clarissa dreamily.
I rolled my eyes.
I couldn’t take these two anywhere.
Though I’m not sure I like the way she said that. Not about my Ryan.
My Ryan?
I mean Ryan.
Damn it.
“Can we go now please? I have to be at the Center in an hour”
We finished our lunch as fast as we could. The whole time I couldn’t help but think about his rescue and how much I liked it when he touched me. Especially the kiss on the cheek. I stopped myself from touching said cheek in case they ridiculed me. Thinking about it sent my heart fluttering though. Which scared the living hell out of me.
“Ok boys and girl, gather around,” said Ryan.
Our squad was in the one of the training room, looking no worse for wear. We’d just suited up and were ready for action. Well, the boys were ready anyway. Me, I still couldn’t get over how tight these suits were. Actually how tight mine was. Apparently, I wasn’t the only woman in the Sentinels of course but I was the first Alpha. Most of the suits designed for women were different but I had to have one specially designed due to height and proportions.
Honesty time.
I’m too tall and my ass is too big.
There I said it.
The tightness wasn’t the only difference either though. The top brass felt that because I was different I didn’t need as much “bulk” as the other suits carried either. Unbeknownst to me---over the last two weeks or so---an R&D team had been completely redesigning the suit to fit my needs. They were so impressed with the redesign they labeled them Mark 2’s and were already in the process of mass production. Mine was currently the only model though. Sleeker, more streamlined and as tight as hell. It breathed as I moved though. Over the last hour or so---before the boys had arrived---Ryan and I ran it through its paces.
I passed every test.
“You look umm…,” said Spider, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head and toeing the ground.
I gave him a look. “However I look, imagine how it feels.”
He turned a shade of crimson and looked away.
Yeah, this isn’t going to be distracting.
“As you all know, the Inters of this Metro are going on a field trip to Metro One next week” We all nodded and murmured. “Our squad and squad 3 have been assigned to be escorts”
More murmuring.
They broke the news to us last week actually.
To say we were surprised was an understatement. There was no way in hell any of us were ready for something like that. Especially going to Metro One. That was Guardian territory. I don’t think I need to mention how much Guardians and Sentinels don’t get along again. However, that was only half the problem. The other problem---the most immediate---problem was yours truly.
Me.
Alpha.
You see, not only was Metro One the seat of our government, it was the seat of the Human government. Emphasis on human. While most Metros had at least one or two Alphas in some position of power, Metro One had zero. Ok not totally rare or unheard of but this next bit I’m about to mention is where things get bad. You see not only do they have no Alphas in the government, they have no Alphas anywhere.
Nada.
Zilch.
None.
There’s no Cube, no Three Truths, no anything.
After the little uprising---the one that created the Sentinels in the first place---the government ran scared. Sure, they now had a force to protect the public but they were afraid of what might happen if an Alpha managed to get in charge of everything. The Grand Chancellor---our highest position in power---had to remain “pure”. He was the head of the Council, the ruling body of the government. If anything were to happen to him, the Council had to vote one of their members to replace him. Humans began to grow afraid that if an Alpha gained that position that oppression would happen. So it was deemed that no Alpha could hold a position on the Council.
This of course led to other prejudices.
With an all-human Council, Alphas started losing other rights in Metro One. Slowly, every single one of their individual rights were taken away. Eventually they no longer wanted to live there. So ten years ago, the Cube there was abandoned. It was now the base of power for the Guardians actually. It was the base of power for something else too.
The Humanity First Initiative.
I know that sounds made up. Like something out of those 20th century comic books, my grandfather used to collect but trust me it’s very real. The HFI sprang up out of fear that Alphas would gain too much power. They were a tiny little organization at first, a bunch of “concerned” citizens. Eventually those concerned grew and grew. Now there were hundreds of them. They were led by a man named Fairbanks, the CEO of Fair Corp, one of the largest software manufacturers around. Hell he’s the guy who mass-produced everything, including Bios.
My parents were both technically Fair Corp employees.
Most people were.
And when one of the most powerful men in the world is a “Huffer”, it’s hard not to take the group seriously.
The Guardians were his brainchild.
A group of soldiers meant to keep us safe.
Us as in the “human race”.
Fairbanks uses his incredible wealth to back the HFI, enabling them to do just about anything they want. Within the confines of the law of course. After the Alphas in Metro One fled and abandoned the Cube, he bought it up. Not long after, the Guardians came on the scene. The HFI rose through the ranks quickly after that. They started influencing government decisions and mandates; they passed stricter laws and legislation. They managed to nab a seat on the Council, too. From there they gained real power. It, the HFI, that maneuvered and got most of the Sentinels disbanded. Fairbanks feared they were “too sympathetic” to the plight of the Alpha.
Bull shit if you ask me.
He was just like the rest.
Charismatic, slimy and well loved.
It sure helped that he was one handsome son of a bitch too.
Thinking about him, I couldn’t help but glance over at Hawk and Falcon---my Z1 “squad mates”. It was pretty common knowledge that most Z1ers were Huffers. Ok so maybe not them personally but definitely their families. At least the human ones anyway. They were discreet about it of course. Huffers weren’t illegal around here, hell they weren’t illegal anyway. Here in Metro 656 though, they weren’t nearly as common. We did after all have a large Alpha population, one of the biggest, actually. Plus we had the Sentinels, too. So most Huffers here kept a much lower profile. They held rallies and demonstrations, and some recruitment campaigns, but it never really panned out.
The Three Truths ruled here.
No one knew anything different.
I’d be a liar if I said I was one hundred percent against the Huffers, though. Yes, they were nut jobs but some of the stuff made a small bit of sense. Sure, the Alphas weren’t evil nor did I think they wanted to rule the world but they were arrogant. Just looking at Ted’s mother would give you proof to that. Did I think they needed to be locked up in boxes and shipped out to sea or whatever, NO WAY. I did think the Cube was necessary though but only because it was safe for everyone.
Ok now I’m just a hypocrite.
Damn I hate politics.
“This is so cool,” said Spider, smiling wickedly.
Shit, now I’m clueless.
I had no idea what he was talking about because I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Sorry” I whispered back.
“The whole Bio link thing”
Bio link?
I gave him a blank look, which caused him to groan. Like Joe, Mark was a bit of a techie. Unlike Joe, most of his tech stuff was more like something my father would be interested in. The two of them were still friends though, outside of the friendship Joe had with Ted and me, of course. My point, Mark seemed to know a little bit more about Bios than any of us assembled here.
“Bio links are something a lot of Sentinel squads do,” he said, explaining it to me and in turn the whole group. “Basically two people interface their Bios with one another, linking the two of them together. They share thoughts, feelings, sometimes even dreams. In essence, it’s like having another person in your head.”
“Nicely put, Spider” said Ryan with a nod.
“Wait, he’s serious?” asked Hawk, looking a little pale. “You mean someone is going to know what I’m thinking, all the time?”
“Yes and no” said Ryan. He held up a small silver capsule. “Inside here are two blue pills, they have a technical name but we usually call them Blues. These pills create a link between those who swallow them. I’m going to pair you off with one of these capsules; each of you takes a pill. The effects only last a few hours but while they are in effect, you will be linked to your partner.”
“You’re sure it’s only for a few hours?” asked Falcon nervously, looking at me.
Yeah I knew what he was afraid of.
He didn’t want a girl in his head.
Hell, I definitely didn’t want that Spooner in mine.
“Yes” said Ryan, tossing the capsule he was holding at Falcon who caught it clumsily.
He paired us off after that.
It was no surprise how it went either. The two Spooners---Hawk and Falcon were one pair, Stretch and Ox became the second and by process of elimination that left Spider and I as the third. Ryan handed the capsule to me, our hands touching for the briefest of moments. A small spark shot down my body, sending tingle shivers.
My heart skipped its usual beat. Damn it.
I stopped myself from blushing, though.
“Thanks” I said softly before he walked off.
I snapped open the capsule, dumped the pills into my hands and passed one to Mark.
“Now before you swallow it, a few things. These pills are linked to one another. So as soon as you swallow it, you and only you will be linked to your particular partner. It’s going to be a little disconcerting at first, you might even feel slightly sick. Trust me, it will pass. After that, you’re going to feel a bit of a rush, might even feeling a bit euphoric. Ignore it. Some guys like to abuse Blues because of the rush, you will not be those guys. If I catch anyone with these pills outside of this program, I’ll will drop you in an instant” He looked directly at the Spooners. “No objections, no favors, no nothing. One instance of abuse and you’re done. Do I make myself clear?”
We all nodded.
“Ok then, pop those pills”
I sighed, looking at the little pill in my hand. Then looked at Spider, who looked just as nervous.
“On three” I said, he nodded.
I counted it off then popped the pill. He quickly followed. I’m not sure what was supposed to happen because whatever it was, it didn’t start right away. I turned to him and shrugged. He was just as confused as I was. Looking at the others, they seemed to share similar attitudes. Looking at Ryan however I couldn’t help but feel a little concerned by his smile. I was about to make a comment but then I felt it. A massive headache, I doubled over in pain. Somewhere I heard someone moan in pain. The room began to spin.
Hawk puked.
Someone screamed, I think.
Ox was busy trying to stay on his feet while at the same time trying to keep Stretch on his. I looked at Spider, I found my partner leaning against the wall, panting. Then suddenly I was panting, too. It was strange though because I didn’t feel the least bit out of breath. I also realized that my head didn’t hurt either. Sure it felt like it was supposed to hurt but it didn’t actually hurt. I stared at Spider closer and realized he was rubbing his temples. I gasped, realizing what that meant. The headache was actually his. I was panting like him too. I wasn’t actually rubbing my temples but I felt like I wanted to.
Wow.
Son of a bitch.
The thought was mine but not mine.
It wasn’t my voice either.
I looked at him and my eyes widened.
It was Spider’s.
“Can you hear me?” I thought back at him.
He stopped rubbing his temples and looked at me, his eyes widened.
“Holy shit” he thought back. “No fucking way”
No fucking way indeed.
“This is freaky,” he said, looking down “I can feel your body. I mean I can feel the weight of your chest as if it was”
He reached up to touch his chest.
“Perv”
I could almost feel him groping me, it was disgusting.
“Sorry, it’s a little confusing”
“Well stop now, please”
He lowered his hands, blushing.
I could his body too, almost as if it was my own. Unlike him though, it didn’t feel nearly as foreign. It felt familiar, like an old friend. I suppressed the urge to grope myself though. Unlike him though, it appeared that my concept of my own body didn’t go away. I could still feel my boobs too. It just felt like I had a penis again.
“Do you feel the rush?”
He looked like he was on cloud nine, a big smile on his face.
Whatever he was feeling though, I felt none of it.
No euphoria like Ryan described.
So apparently, it was the one thing we didn’t currently share.
I did feel his need to squeeze my boobs though. I also felt him stiffen when he looked at me too. There was a mix of emotions there too, lust being the chief one among them.
Ugh, fucking pig.
I wonder if he could feel my disgust.
“Sorry” he thought, a moment later.
Yep, he could definitely feel it.
“I find it hard to believe though. I mean I feel your body, its freaky being a dude one sec and feeling like a chick the next”
“Don’t I know it?”
I felt his shame.
“Oh shit, sorry. I didn’t…”
“It’s ok. I’m used to all of this now. I’ve adjusted quickly”
He nodded. “Your body is incredible though. I mean do you feel this good all the time. The strength, the energy?”
I guess I never really thought about it. I was just me. I couldn’t even begin to wonder what he was feeling though. He was flexing his muscles though, preening like a fool. It was clear that my body was having a bigger effect on him then his was having on me. I did feel something though, slightly less of myself. It was like trying to walk underwater. Not that I was sluggish, just slow or at least felt that way now. I flexed my hands, feeling no strength or rather a lack of it.
“Come here a sec,” I said, knowing he knew what I was thinking.
We both walked over to the free weight rack against the wall. He nervously looked down at the weights. I felt it, I also felt confidence too. I grabbed the heaviest weight. His apprehension and fear was there but I was able to override it. I lifted the weight without a problem even though his mind told me there was no way I actually could. He tried the same. He had my confidence and his fear. His fear and his only body ruled him though. He wasn’t even able to budge it.
“Just as I suspected. We’re still ourselves even if we feel like one another”
“Well that’s disappointing”
“Only from your point of view” I thought and laughed.
I laughed out loud, he did the same.
He followed his laugh with a dirty look.
“Ok boys and girl” said a voice, it took me a second to realize it wasn’t in my head nor was it Mark’s.
I turned to look at Ryan; Mark seemed to do the same.
It was kind of creepy.
“Now that you’ve taken a few moment to get acquainted with one another, I think we can begin,” he said this with a big smile.
“Begin what?” asked Hawk and Falcon together, both of whom looked shocked when they did so.
“Sparring”
There was an evil glint in Ryan’s eye.
Apparently, there was a method to his madness, which he quickly explained. This was just the first of several initial tests. He wanted us to get used to be being one mind in two bodies. It was the whole purpose of the pills to begin with. They were meant to link you with your squad in battle. Eventually he would graduate us to pills that made all of us linked together but first we needed to get used to the link. So it was the pairing. As soon as we could prove to him that we could handle that then he’d move us up to the “heavier stuff”.
“Wait you mean I’ll eventually be linked to that thing?” asked Hawk, pointing at me, a look of disgust on his face.
A look mirrored by his partner.
I smirked. “Afraid of all this?” I asked, moving my hands rather seductively down my body.
I said---I mean the words came out of my mouth---but I wasn’t thinking it. Nor did I move my hands. I shot a nasty glance over at Mark, feeling his sudden shock and embarrassment. He put a hand to him mouth, flushing red as did so.
What the hell was that?
Ryan was smiling and clapping. He walked over and stood between us, placing his hands on our shoulders. “Did you see that, guys? That’s what I’m talking about. That’s the link these exercises are going to form between you all. One mind, six bodies. I know these two did it on accident but it’s the kind of thing that all of you will be doing when we’re done.”
Great, just great.
“This is scary, I heard about these pills. There’s nightmare stories about people who take them. Some guys have even reported having residual effects after long exposure. You know acting without thinking, mimicking the movements of someone even when they’re not on the pill. Almost as if their bodies become linked all the time. It’s scary shit”
I nodded at Mark.
Then I verbally expressed his concerns.
“It happens,” said Ryan with a frown. “That’s why we do it in a safe environment and why we don’t overdo it. It’s one of the dangers. It only happens though if you don’t know what you’re doing and you abuse the pills, especially abusing them with the same partner. So I’m going to make myself very clear. You will NOT use these pills with the same partner. Next exercise you will be using them with someone else.”
“What about when we all take them?” asked Stretch, looking nervous?
Ox looked a bit scared and nervous too, which in turn looked silly for him.
“Different pills” said Ryan. “The group pills are Greens”
I suppose that made a slight bit of sense.
I had a thought, which I’m not sure was actually mine or Mark’s now that I thought about it. I was the one who expressed it though.
“What happens when we do take the Greens and we’re not able to mesh with one another?”
Ryan smiled and nodded. “Good question and the answer to which is if one of you fails, all of you fail. If you can’t work as a team---as one---then you can’t work at all. Do I make myself clear on that?”
We all gave our affirmatives.
After that, he ordered us off into our pairs.
Then we started sparring.
It was a little hard at first. I mean both of us wanted to do different things. More than once, I found myself tangled up with Mark on the floor. I tried to punch, he tried to kick. Unfortunately our bodies---working against one another---tried to do both things. It was hell for nearly an hour. We weren’t the only ones having that problem though. The others were on the ground too, cursing and moaning. Eventually though, Mark and I thought it through. It was Mark who actually came up with it. It wasn’t about trying to beat your partner in the fight; it was about anticipating the moves and copying them. Using each of our strengths to the other’s advantage.
So when I kicked, he kicked.
When he punched, I punched.
It became almost a dance.
He threw a punch while I instinctively blocked it. I tried to kick him and he countered it. Almost as if he knew it was going to happen before I did it.
Now I understood the purpose of the exercise.
Ryan was watching the two of us closely, smiling and nodding as did so. It didn’t take long for the others to stop what they were doing and watching us too. I didn’t really notice until Ryan stopped us. Then he had us explain to the others what we were doing. As soon as we did, he ordered the others to try the same. Another hour or sparring---of being linked with our partner---and the others seemed to get the hang of it too.
We quit after that.
“Totally freaky” thought Mark as we toweled off our sweat, seemingly in synch with one another.
“Tell me about it,” I thought.
I bent to tie my shoe. Mark bent to do the same and stopped. I saw the look on his face and realized that I couldn’t feel him anymore. I finished tying my shoes and looked at him, waving my hand, flexing my fingers. I realized he wasn’t doing the same. For the last two hours, the two of us had been literally copies of one another.
“You didn’t hear me when I thought, did you?” he asked.
“Nope”
“Well, all good things” he said, laughing.
I laughed. “That’s a relief because I definitely didn’t want you in my head when I was in the locker room changing.”
I saw him working it out, realizing what he just missed. I patted him on the cheek when I saw the look of disappointment on his face.
“Maybe next time” I said with a playful wink.
He frowned when he realized there wouldn’t be a next which one got me to laugh at his expense.
I went to the locker room alone.
I undressed alone.
I showered alone.
I redressed alone.
Boy did it feel good not to have anyone else in my head again.
BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE PILLS BETHANY.
It was the numbers again this time though, Joe’s little program translated them for me; unfortunately it didn’t make me feel any better.
I groaned.
At least I’d been alone for a moment.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After getting punished for a fight he didn't start, Taylor's life has taken a turn for the weird. First it was strange dreams then it was a bizarre feeling that something isn't right. Now he's constantly cold and can't figure out why.
But these things are just the beginning of his problems.
After getting punished for a fight he didn't start, Taylor's life has taken a turn for the weird. First it was strange dreams then it was a bizarre feeling that something isn't right. Now he's constantly cold and can't figure out why.
But these things are just the beginning of his problems.
-----
1.
“Don’t forget the glitter, Cassie!”
I could hear them from the bleachers, even though I was trying my hardest not to. The girls were louder than they should have been, talking, laughing, giggling. I rolled my eyes and tried to hide behind my iPad. I was hoping to get a little more work done before heading home. I just got this scene where I wanted it. It was little use though. I could already see Brittany Clarke glaring at me. She didn’t want me here and I definitely didn’t want to be here. Neither of us had a choice in the matter though. I didn’t blame her for being angry though. Hell, I didn't blame myself for being angry either. The person I blamed was Donny Duncan. All of this was Donny’s fault. It all started last week and all Donny had to do was leave me alone. Donny’s problem was like most of the Assholes at our school, he just couldn’t help himself.
After the fight and the two of us ended up in the principal’s office, my father was called in. His glare had said it all. He was pissed at me for being me. When we got home that night, he chewed me out for not “being man enough”. That was his usual insult. Well, one of them. “Girly Boy” was another favorite of his. I was short, thin and soft-featured. The fact that I liked to wear my near-bleach-blonde hair at my shoulders made me less of a man to him. After several years of his verbal abuse, dealing with Donny was easy. He was a Neanderthal. When he threw the first punch after I insulted him, I was ready for it. I dodged it, he punched Jessica Smith in the back of the head and that was the end of that.
Of course Mrs. Haines saw it all. That’s how I ended up in trouble too. The school had a zero tolerance policy concerning fighting. It didn’t matter that Donny started it. I was involved so I got the attention detention too. Whereas Donny managed to work out his punishment with Coach Franks, I ended up with a far worse fate: dance committee.
“Taylor, are you just going to sit there!?”
Brittany was now talking to me it seemed.
I sighed. I set my iPad down, wondering what torture she was going to put me through today.
“You three seem like you have this one under control.”
She grunted. “Look you don’t want to be here anymore than I actually want you here. You do however have to help us.”
The “help” they were seeking was on posters.
More specifically, glittery, frilly-looking posters advertising the upcoming Halloween Dance. Last week they announced that the theme for the dance this year would be The Fairy Forest. Something I’m sure most of the girls voted on and most of the boys didn’t really give a damn. I was one of them. While I was forced to join the committee for the next couple of weeks, I had no real intention of helping. Especially when I came home last night with glitter all over me. As soon as Dad saw it, he freaked even more. He went on an hour-long rant about how “boys shouldn’t...” Blah, blah, blah. I tuned most of it out. My mother and older sister tuned most of it too. They generally ignored Dad when he flipped on me like that. My parents laid down the ground rules early in life. As a boy, I was my Dad’s responsibility. So he was in charge of punishing me, he was in charge of lecturing. It was his job to raise me “right”. Mom took care of Alexis. They felt it was fair. It probably would have been if I’d been the kind of son that Dad wanted.
Newsflash, I wasn’t.
Bigger newsflash, I didn’t care.
In two years, I’d be eighteen, then I’d be gone. We started college prep courses last week, and I was already planning on going to one out of state. There were a lot of decent scholarships I was looking into as well. I was done with my family and done with this tiny little town. Now I just had to wait two more years for this town to finally be done with me.
“Taylor!”
I sighed even louder. Instead of leaving my iPad on the bleacher where I was certain it would get damaged, I stuffed it into my backpack as I slung it on my shoulder. Better safe than sorry. I could have left all of it just sitting there, but I didn’t trust this place anymore. Even though the gymnasium was deserted save the small group of us, one could never be too careful. Lowering your guard was never smart around this place. Donny had taught me that. I wasn’t just a target of opportunity to him, I was the bullseye he always hit in his game of life darts.
Trying not to think about Donny and his bullying, I begrudgingly stomped over to the small circle formed in the middle of the Gym. Brittney was still glaring, the others were barely paying attention. I only knew a few of them by name, the rest were cheerleaders and student council. None of which were in any of my social circles. Not that I really had a circle, unless Loner counted. I had no true friends to speak of and at lunch, I generally ate in the Quad, under a tree as far away from everyone else that I could. I honestly preferred it that way. I had a problem connecting with people. My mother blamed herself. I blamed other people.
“What do you need me to do?”
I was already annoyed.
So was Brittany apparently.
She huffed. I get it, she didn’t want me here. She already told me that, twice. This was definitely not how I wanted to spend my after school hours. I had planned on drawing more of my comic. As it was now, I barely made a dent on the new page. I’d only been working on it for the past month or so. What had once been nothing more than an itch in the back of my mind was slowly starting to become all I could think about these days. What’s worse, it was starting to invade my dreams too. It was strange really. Before last month, I never had such ideas. Then one night shortly after my sixteenth birthday, the dreams started. First once every few days then almost every night. They weren’t just normal dreams either. They felt so vivid and real, almost as if…
“You’re an artist, right?”
Brittany again, I forgot we were talking.
“How do you know that?”
She huffed, hands on her hips. “I’m not an idiot you know, I see you doodling in class.”
Yes, I did draw in class but I sat in the back of the room, in the farthest corner from the door. Brittany was an overachiever, she sat in the front row. How could she possibly know what I did in the back of the room?
She didn’t wait for me to respond. “You draw those fairies, right?”
Fairies? How could she possibly know that.
Unless…
Donny.
That’s how I got here in the first place after all. Donny caught me drawing fairies. Well more specifically he caught me drawing one fairy. Her name was Maela and as much as I’d like to take credit for creating her, she came from my dreams. I’m not even sure if she was a Fairy to be honest. She did have glittery wings like one but she was human sized. Donny only caught me drawing her because I’d been careless. You see, in my dream Maela resembled me in that she had white blonde hair and striking blue eyes. I didn’t intentionally draw her to look like me but Donny saw me drawing over my shoulder and of course jumped to conclusions. He made a crack about me “being a fairy after all”, I made some comment about him being a “neanderthal” and that’s when he threw the punch. I’m not even sure how I dodged it, I have horrible reflexes.
The rest ended me here.
“Donny has a big mouth.” I finally mumbled.
Brittany laughed. “Donny? He didn’t say a damn thing. Everyone knows what you draw, you doodle them all over the place.”
What?
“I don’t know...”
She cut me off with a hand in my face. “I don’t give a shit. Look I just need you to draw two of them.” She was holding one of their posters. “Here and here.”
I looked where she was pointing, it was on either side of The Fairy Forest Dance, written in some elegant flowing script.
“I’m not sure...”
“Look it's the only reason the Principal put you here. I told him what I needed and he did it. Now do your job, then you can leave.”
So that’s how it was.
Brittany didn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead, she snapped around, almost hitting me in the face with that long red single braid of hers. That thing could be registered as a deadly weapon.
I followed her to the group, dragging my feet the whole way.
I was a Loner by choice. It's not that people hadn’t tried being friends with me in the past, it's just that I wasn’t all that interested. Most of the guys that tried were only interested in a few things, mostly video games and talking about girls. It's not that I hated either, it's just I didn’t think about them all the time. Sure I played games but I didn’t live and breathe them like I was apparently supposed to. I had a look and as such there were certain things expected of me. Those things were different depending on who was talking to me. I was feminine and soft so clearly I was a sissy and gay to most of the jocks. I was quiet and kept to myself, so I was a freak to many others. I dressed in skinny jeans, a hoodie and carried an iPad with me everywhere, so I must be a gamer.
Lots of labels.
Lots of misconceptions.
When I finally reached the group, none of them even acknowledged me.
Well, except for one.
I stopped and blinked.
Mel?
She was the last person I was expecting to find here. We were in Art together. We weren’t friends per se but we sat next to each other. She was cool to be around because she was the kind of person who didn’t take crap from anyone and always had some outlandish stories to tell. Her older brother was some kind of extreme sports junkie and kept getting into all of these messed up accidents. They were usually really painful but she always put her own snarky spin on them to make them fun and interesting. I never in a million years expected to find her here. She just wasn’t the type.
When she saw me, she looked just as surprised.
Brittany shot a thumb in my direction. “You all know Taylor, right?”
Some of the girls mumbled something but most didn’t seem to care one way or another.
“He’s gonna draw some fairies on our posters for us.”
Brittany then proceeded to grabbed a few of the mostly finished posters and found me my own spot, away from them.
Fine by me.
She gave me some really cheap colored pencils and markers and set me to work.
It wasn’t long before I found myself not alone.
Mel dropped onto the floor next to me. When she spoke, they were words almost out of my mouth:
“You are the last person I expected to see here.” she said it with a laugh.
When she did, I got a good look at her tongue piercing.
Yep she was that girl.
It wasn’t her only facial piercing either. There was one in her lip, a stud in her nose and one in her left eyebrow. She had several in each ear too. I wouldn’t call her punk, she once described herself as “Alternative” and I suppose it fit her well enough. Her neon green hair was cut short and shaved on one side. There was a tattoo of an eyeball there. It looked weird and a bit out of place but that was Mel. She embraced the weird whenever she could. Her makeup was dark, her clothes a mismatch of different fashions, today was a long sleeve striped shirt, tartan mini-skirt with ripped blue leggings, and black combat boots. There were a lot of tats that her clothes hid as well, I’d seen them from time to time. Each one as bizarre and as crazy as the next.
I’m not sure why we didn’t hang out actually.
She was my kind of weirdo.
I finally shrugged. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Oh yeah, I saw that shit yesterday.”
I completely forgot that Mel was in my Math class too, where the “incident” took place.
I didn’t really know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I tried using the crap that Brittany gave me to draw with but finally gave up after only a few tries. These pencils were horrible and the markers had fat tips, making them all wrong to get the finer details. Groaning, I went rummaging through my pack, hoping that I brought my stuff from home. I generally didn’t carry my good pens with me anymore because most of my drawing I did on my ‘pad now. Sometimes though, I kept the pens in my pack for class. I had to shift a few things, take some stuff out before I found them.
“Hey, you still drawing these?”.
I turned, Mel was holding one of my notebooks. How had she gotten it so fast?
I tried to take it away from her but she pulled it out of my reach.
“What are these things anyway?”
The “things” as she called them were just doodles. I drew them all the time. At first they were nonsensical things I just started drawing a couple of years ago. I thought they were silly at first. I used to daydream and doodle them into page margins and things. Lately though, I’d found myself drawing them more and more. They were getting a lot more elaborate too. First they were squiggles but now they were these complex caricatures that were starting to look like some foreign alphabet. They weren’t though, I looked them up. I spent hours googling but couldn’t find a thing. That didn’t deter me from drawing them though, so I decided to put them in a notebook. I thought maybe I could use them as some weirdo language in my comic. I was even starting to form them into reasonable words.
“Its just some language I made up for the comic I’m doing.” I said, finally managing to wrestle the book from her hands.
“Oh cool, can I see it?”
I hesitated before shaking my head.
I didn’t let anyone see my comic.
“That’s cool, I’m pretty private about my stuff too.”
She liked to talk though, that much I knew from class. I was a person of few words and was generally bothered by people like her. There was something about Mel though, something that put me to ease when I was around her. Maybe it was her stories or maybe she was one of those chill, lax people that I didn’t mind being around. Regardless, her talking didn’t annoy me. Instead, I always found myself working through it. Even now, as I sat cross-legged, sketching out my fairy, I listened to her talk. I liked to sketch things out before doing anything permanent. Usually I did that to music but with Mel here, I felt it kinda rude to put in my ear buds. So instead, I used her voice as my distraction. I let her words wash over me as I worked. It didn’t take me long. I drew out a few crude little fairies before I settled on one I felt worked. It wasn’t my greatest work but it wasn’t meant to be. Brittany hadn’t asked for a masterpiece, just something for some cheap posters.
As soon as my sketch was finished, I quickly set to work putting it to the poster.
The first one took about ten minutes.
I smiled when it was done.
“A pixie?” asked Mel, looking at it over my shoulder.
“It's a fairy.”
She scrunched her nose. “Fairies look like that?”
What did she mean by that?
I looked at my drawing. It was of an elegant looking woman in a simple long gown, with long flowing hair and butterfly-like wings. I even made her bending at the waist, her hands pointing at the words. Sure she didn’t look like something out of Disney but she was a fairy.
“What are fairies supposed to look like, if you’re such an expert?”
She took a moment, was about to open her mouth when we were interrupted:
“That’s AWESOME!”
Brittany.
She had apparently come over to see what was taking me so long. I think she was expecting to chew me out but when she saw the poster, her scowl disappeared. She was now practically beaming. I couldn’t help but smile, it was good to see that someone appreciated my hard work. She really did too. She kept praising me over and over again for a good five minutes. She stood by while I added an identical figure to the other side of the words, so both fairies were flanking the dance’s name just like she wanted.
She was ecstatic.
She took the poster from me as soon as I was done and quickly rushed over to the other girls.
I could hear the ooo’s and ahh’s.
It felt nice.
Mel scoffed, giving my shoulder a bump as I packed up my things.
“Looks like they’re happy.”
I gave her a smug look.
“Well at least they know what a fairy looks like.”
She didn’t have a rebuttal. Instead she stuck her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, shrugged and wandered back off. Just like that, she wasn’t interested in me anymore. I shrugged it off, used to it by now. I drew an audience when I was drawing sometimes. I mostly ignored it. I think Mel was just looking for some company and it was nice to have her around. Like I said though, we weren’t friends. Just as well too, Mel was great but only in small doses. I’m not sure I could stand being around her all the time.
The meeting broke up shortly after. Apparently we only had a limited time to use the Gym. The dance wasn’t until the next weekend after all, we still had a few days before our decorations needed to be done. As per my punishment, I was in it for the rest of the long haul. Which meant I’d be here after school for the next week or so. Not that I really had anything else to do. I knew my Dad was going to be pissed though. I was pretty sure he thought it was going to be a one-time thing. He liked to drag me to the garage as soon as I was done with my homework. It was all a part of his “education”. It was a waste of my time but at least it kept him off my back most of the time.
As I was leaving, I overheard Brittany talking to some of the others, but I didn’t stick around long enough to listen. She did ask me to finish up the rest of the posters tomorrow, which I agreed to. I left the Gym, meandered down the short hallway to one of the nearby exits. It opened up into the west parking lot, now deserted. As soon as I stepped out the door, I was hit by a fierce gust of wind.
I shivered.
It was starting to get cold these last few days.
Not unheard of for late October but kinda surprising.
I thought for sure the forecast said it was supposed to be sunny and warm until the weekend?
Shrugging it off, I pulled my hood over my head and started the mile or so trek home.
Looks like Winter was coming early after all.
Elsewhere
It watched.
It waited.
It listened.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
After getting punished for a fight he didn't start, Taylor's life has taken a turn for the weird. First it was strange dreams then it was a bizarre feeling that something isn't right. Now he's constantly cold and can't figure out why.
But these things are just the beginning of his problems.
Author's Note: I'm posting this on Friday instead of Sunday like I planned. Its a short one too and not a lot happens to move the story alone. Its more of a lot of stuff at home, fleshing out family and things. I also wanted to point out that very briefly I called his older sister "Marie" in the first chapter but gave her the name Alexis later on because I ding dong. I have since gone back and fixed it in Ch.1 LOL. Thanks to that eagle eye beta reader who pointed it out. Also quick note, Ch.3 might be a few weeks off but I haven't decided yet. I'm only 4 pages into Ch.4 and haven't had a lot of time to write it lately.
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2.
The walk home was surprisingly cold.
Thankfully it wasn’t very long. I might not have been as athletic as my father wanted, but I wasn’t unfit. I’d been making this mile-long hike from home to school for years now. We were a small town and because of that there was only one central block of schools for each level. Our elementary, middle and high school were all in one place. The buildings were only separated by large courtyards and in the case of the elementary school, a large playground as well. When I was much smaller, Mom used to drop me off at school but as I got older, Alexis used to walk with me. That stopped after she graduated high school and moved onto college two years ago.
Not that I cared, I liked taking this walk alone. It gave me time to think.
As I walked today, I couldn’t help but think about Mel. It was strange really because I’d never given her a second thought before. It's not like I ignored her, it's just that she was always just there. Now I couldn’t get her out of my head. It wasn’t an attraction thing either. Sure Mel was really cute. She was spunky and fun and full of life. The kind of girl I might eventually see myself with some day. At the same time though, I knew if I ever brought a girl like that home, my parents would flip. Though they didn’t have strict rules on who we could or could not date, Lexi brought home a guy once who had a lip ring and I thought Dad was going to blow a gasket. He was really polite when he met the dude but later chewed out my sister for it. Suffice to say, there was no second date. That was only one lip ring too. I can’t imagine what he’d say to me if I walked in with Mel one day?
I could only shudder at the thought.
There was something more to all of this though. I’m not sure why I couldn’t get her out of my head, it was almost as if this was the first time we’d ever met? That was crazy though because I’d been sitting next to her since school started a month ago. We were in the same freshman Art class last year too. We never talked much back then but she was still the same girl as I remember now. Maybe her hair was purple then? It was hard to remember. The thing is, I never thought about her then. So why now and why so much?
I shook my head.
It was baffling.
My thoughts were interrupted when I arrived home. I sighed in relief because Dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, which meant he was probably still at the garage. One less annoyance for me right now. Not only that but I’d be able to get my work done without him chewing me out for not being there to help him today. Generally he forced me to spend most of my time after school at the garage helping him out. I didn’t do “real work” there though because he didn’t think I was man enough for that. Instead, he had me doing things like sweeping the floor and making sure all the tools were put in their proper place.
I’m not gonna lie, I HATED it.
Thankfully, tonight I’d be able to avoid it for a few hours.
Walking up the front walk, I couldn’t help but take a moment to stop and stare at the house. We lived in a development just outside of town. It was one of those cut-outs that sprang up all over the place back in the seventies. At one time, the houses were probably top of the line, now a lot of them were starting to show their age. We lived in a cul-de-sac, our house was the center one. The beige siding was starting to fade in the sun, the paint on the front door and shingles was starting to crack and peel. We were the only split level ranch too, which meant we had a one-car garage and a fairly narrow driveway. Most of the time, Dad’s old pickup sat there. The only good thing about this place was the backyard. Whoever built the house managed to cut us a nice yard. It was the largest one around.
Not that I got much use out of it anymore.
I barely went back there unless it was to mow it.
Making sure not to step on what was left of Mom’s flowers, I made my way to the front door, unlocked it and crept inside. I’m not sure why I needed to be quiet or sneaky, no one was apparently home. Without me, Dad would have to do his own sweeping up and Mom was probably working late at the office. As for Alexis, she didn’t live at home anymore. Not that you’d ever know, she drove here every weekend. She went to a state school that was only about an hour drive away. Mom tried to convince her to live at home and commute but my sister wasn’t having any of it. She wanted her freedom and I could hardly blame her. While Dad had a tough approach to parenting, Mom was downright smothering.
Alexis told me she needed a break.
And she was pushing for me to go to an out of state school too if I could.
I was seriously considering it. There were a couple of really nice Art schools I was eyeing.
Not that my parents would ever approve.
Not that they had much of a say either.
I went into the living room, dropped my pack near the door for a moment, and went into the kitchen to make myself a snack. I was starving, the last time I ate felt like hours ago. Rummaging through the fridge, I couldn’t help but notice that lately my appetite had changed. I wasn’t as hungry as I used to be and when I did eat, it was a lot less. Then there would be these spikes, like now, where I felt like I could eat a whole horse. I heated up some leftovers and started digging into them at the table. I had just started to eat when I noticed it was a little cold in here too. It was strange because I knew my mother generally kept the house fairly warm starting at the beginning of October. Mom was always cold, blamed it on poor genes.
Leaving my food for a moment, I went back into the living room to check the thermostat.
Wow.
It was fifty degrees in here.
Rubbing my cold hands together, I readjusted it and went back to my food.
Had Mom been that careless?
Shrugging it off, I went back into the kitchen to finish my food. As soon as I sat and started to eat again, I noticed the food was ice cold.
What the actual fuck?
Annoyed, I just dumped everything in the trash.
Grabbing my stuff from the living room, I instead decided to just do my homework. Maybe I could get most of it done before Dad got home and started bitching. There was hope anyway. Taking the stairs two at a time, I made short work of the staircase, then the hallway itself. My room was the first door on the left. There were four bedrooms in this house, Lexi’s room was across the hall, my parents’ room at the end of it. The fourth room was the smallest, Mom used it as an at-home-office space. She barely used it though, so we also put a futon in there for guests. Not that we ever had any.
Slipping into my room, I tossed my stuff on the bed.
My room was the typical boy’s room, the walls and my bedding were blue, I had a desk, a dresser and a bookcase. There were shelves too, covered in trophies. They weren’t mine though, they were Dad’s. He said they were there to “inspire” me but they never did. Dad was still holding out hope I’d drop this “sissy” art shit and move onto sports like a real man. There was a lot of other sports crap in my room too, most of it for this team or that. I didn’t really care about any of it. A few years ago, I tried to complain to my mother about it but she told me “the rules are the rules”.
They were the most backwards people I ever knew.
I mean who ignores their kid’s wishes so they can have the “perfect” family?
Grunting, I went to my desk and started on my homework. I was halfway through it when I heard the front door slam hard. Shit. How had I not heard the car in the driveway? I crossed my fingers, hoping it was Mom getting home early after a bad day? The stomping around downstairs told me otherwise. The voice that shouted up the stairs confirmed it:
“TAYLOR!”
Shit.
I heard him stomping up the stairs, trying to sound bigger than he was. A moment later, my door was practically flung open. Dad struck an imposing figure. At six foot four and over two hundred and fifty pounds, he excelled at intimidation. When he was my age he was a linebacker and never let me forget it. Though he was starting to show some of that early forties wear and tear, Dad made sure to take care of himself. When he wasn’t working or going out with his Boys, he was at the Gym. He used to try and drag me there too but when I could barely bench my own body weight, he stopped taking me because I was an “embarrassment”. Just as well, I HATED the place.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!”
“My homework.”
“Don’t get smart with me!”
“I’m not being smart. You asked a question, I answered.”
This was how Dad operated. He asked questions that he already knew the answers to but got pissed off because I refused to “play along with him”. It worked when I was six but I’m not a child anymore. Frankly, I was getting tired of it all. My father had this image of our relationship in his head. That perfect Father/Son bonding experience. One that he tried to force on me for years, even though I made it very clear I didn’t want it.
His eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be at the Garage!”
I sighed. I wanted to roll my eyes but that wouldn’t have turned out in my favor.
“I had to do that committee thing. We talked about it.”
I say we talked but in reality, I told him about it, he pretended to listen then bitched. He tried calling the school to complain but Principal Hayes tossed it back in his face.
He scoffed. “I told that Principal I didn’t want a son of mine doing that sissy shit.”
Dad was in good form today.
He wasn’t even trying to hide the bigotry and homophobia. At least he wasn’t rolling into his usual racist rants as well. I swear to God my father was a walking, talking stereotype. If there was an Asshole checklist, my father would hit each one every time he opened his mouth. I’d like to say he was a rare type around here but I’d be lying. This part of the state was fairly conservative and men like my father were a dime a dozen. I’m not saying everyone was like him but a good portion of the male population around here was. It was why people like Donny could give me a hard time and get away with it.
“I’m calling him again.” grumbled my Dad, more to himself than me but just as loud. “The Stewart men are not fags.”
Dad of the Year.
He didn’t wait for me to say anything, he just stomped out of my room.
A few minutes later, I heard a lot of screaming then the door slammed. Dad was probably on his way to the bar now, his second home away from home. Just as well, it meant he’d probably be there for a couple of hours and give me some peace. I didn’t let out the breath I was holding though until I heard his truck pulling away. At least I heard it this time. I waited a minute or so longer before I started my homework again. I got it done as quickly as I could.
Just as I was finishing up, I heard the front door open downstairs.
I winced, waiting for more screaming.
“Taylor!?”
Mom.
I didn’t wait for her to come up the stairs looking for me. Instead, I left my room and met her in the kitchen.
“Hey Mom.” I said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Honey, did you adjust the heat?”
“Only to turn it up.” I confessed. “It was ice cold in here.”
She frowned. “Damn thing, I swear your father needs to get that fixed.”
I scoffed and said sarcastically, “I’m sure he’ll put it on his list.”
Mom gave me a look but didn’t say anything.
She knew I was right. Mom wasn’t a bad person but her resolve to let Dad have his own way was ridiculous. I knew there were times she didn’t agree with his bullshit but instead of speaking up, she let him steamroll me. She let him do the same to her when she thought I didn’t notice. It was mind-boggling. Mom was a lawyer, she argued for a living and yet Dad got to push her around too? What’s more, the only thing they argued about was money. Not the typical argument either. You would think that the kind of person my father was, he’d be upset my mother made more. That wasn’t the issue though. He was mad that my mother didn’t spend more. They would argue then later she’d agree.
Then she’d defend him if I said anything.
She always defended him in fact.
It still blew my mind how a sweet, kind woman could ever be married to a Pig like him?
“Where is your father?” she asked, ignoring my quip for once.
“The bar probably.” I said, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. “He got mad that I wasn’t at the Garage today, even though he knew why.”
Mom started washing the dishes that Dad didn’t bother to take care of last night. I thought I heard her sigh over the running water but it might have been my imagination. Mom had to know some of his crap was wrong but never once bothered to stand up for me. I used to admire her once. When I was little, I used to think she was the most awesome Mom in the world. Then again, what little kid didn’t love their mother? As I got older though, things changed. As soon as puberty hit for me and I didn’t “mature” like other boys, my Dad started his crap. Mom did nothing to stop him. That’s when I started to pity her. Mom was a victim in all of this too.
What I once thought as sweet, I realized was actually docile.
Brave became cowardly.
I wasn’t the only one who thought so either.
Lexi did too.
The way my parents treated me was one of the reasons she barely came around anymore. She tried to fight for me but Dad would not have any of it. Lexi didn’t back down though, already she had more of a backbone then our mother did. She and Dad argued a lot. Dad didn’t like a woman speaking back to him and Lexi HATED how badly he treated everyone around him. The problem is, they paid her tuition still. Well, Mom paid for it to be fair. Even though she toed the line with Dad, she didn’t dare go against Mom for fear that she’d lose everything. I loved her for trying to help but was disappointed she couldn’t do more.
We were one big happy family.
“Did you have fun today?”
These little moments when Dad was gone were the only ones we got to talk.
Without saying a word, I got up from the table and approached the sink. I grabbed one of the washcloths and started drying the dishes as she washed them. She gave me a weak smile. If Dad ever caught me doing it, there would be hell to pay.
“It was ok. The girls asked me to add some fairies to their posters.”
“Fairies?”
“The theme for the Halloween dance is The Fairy Forest. One of the girls knew I was an artist and asked me to help.”
Mom rarely pried into my social life. She knew I didn’t have any friends because I never left the house. She did show concern from time to time. Mostly that she thought it was unhealthy but never tried forcing me to go out more. Dad never stopped nagging me about it though. It pissed him off that his son spent every waking hour at home, especially on the weekends. Men were supposed to be out. When he was my age, the weekends were meant for dating and partying with his friends. He definitely had a girlfriend then.
Dad ran hot and cold on the whole thing though. Last year, I had to do a school project with a girl in my class named Clara. I thought Dad would finally get off my case to get a girlfriend if he actually saw me with a girl. Dad didn’t say anything the whole time she was there. He mostly kept to himself, watching TV. As soon as she left though, he started in on me about how I picked the wrong girl. Clara was short, a tad bit on the heavy side and wore glasses. No son of his was going to date an “ugly chick”. The next time we had to meet for the project, I made some excuse and we met in the library instead. That only made it worse though because Dad started screaming at me because I wasn’t bringing Clara around. I swear the man was a mental case.
“Did you show them your comic?”
Mom knew about my comic. It was our secret. We both knew that if Dad found out, he’d flip. I didn’t go out of my way to show her, she caught me working on it one day. At first I was embarrassed and tried to hide it, but I realized I needed someone to confide in. So I told her about it. She was impressed with it. I’m sure that was just a mother being a mother but she honestly told me it was one of the more interesting ideas she’d ever heard of. I didn’t tell her where I got the ideas from. How do you explain to someone that you have these weirdly realistic dreams?
We finished taking care of the dishes. I was helping her put them away when she stopped me.
“I’m gonna start dinner, so maybe you should go and shower?”
I was confused.
Mom reached up and touched my cheek, running her finger across it. I was confused until she showed me what was stuck to it.
Glitter.
How had Dad not seen that?
“Thanks Mom.”
I surprised both of us with a hug. I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged my mother. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time she and I just talked like that. Even if it was about nothing, it was nice to have these quiet moments. With Dad always on my case, they were few and far between.
I finished helping her put the dishes away, then headed upstairs.
There were two and a half bathrooms in the house. My parents had a small ensuite whereas Lexi and I shared the upstairs one. The third was downstairs but we rarely used it. It was mostly for guests, which we rarely had. When my folks bought this house, they were convinced they’d be social butterflies. We used to throw parties when Lexi and I were younger. As we got older and Mom got busier at work, we stopped bothering. Plus, most of the neighbors only pretended to like my father. The same could be said for our extended family. Dad’s parents were in Florida, we got cards for Birthdays and holidays. Mom’s parents were dead. Mom had no siblings but Dad had a sister who rarely spoke to him. I had a couple of cousins but they were practically strangers.
We face-timed sometimes but it never amounted to much.
Thinking about family was the last thing I wanted in the bathroom though.
Undressing to my boxers, I couldn’t help but look into the mirror and frown. No matter how much I hated my father for pointing it out, he wasn’t wrong. I was a frail and wimpy looking kid. Barely five foot seven and thin as a rail. I had no muscle to speak of and my skin was pale white. I looked like I hadn’t seen a ray of sun in a decade. Which was ironic given that my blonde hair was so white it looked bleached. It was especially funny because my hair never used to be this blonde. Mom and Lexi both had honey blonde hair, Dad had dark brown. My hair was always a bit in-between. As I got older though, it gradually started to get lighter. Dad was furious at first, convinced I was doing it to myself.
It was made worse by my soft, girly face.
I sighed.
No wonder Donny wanted to kick my ass all the time.
Leaning closer to the mirror, I saw the glitter Mom mentioned earlier.
I cursed.
Well it could be worse, the girls could have tried putting makeup on me again like in sixth grade.
I shuddered at that memory.
Stripping off my boxers, I turned on the shower and stepped in, hoping the warm water would take away all my worries, especially the glitter.
Huh, I thought this was warm?
I checked the tap.
Maybe Dad needed to get the water looked at it too?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
After getting punished for a fight he didn't start, Taylor's life has taken a turn for the weird. First it was strange dreams then it was a bizarre feeling that something isn't right. Now he's constantly cold and can't figure out why.
But these things are just the beginning of his problems.
Author's Note: I'm really sorry, I forgot all about this. Its been a long, exhausting few months. This is still the last full chapter written but the next one is nearly finished. I just wanted to make sure that I finally posted it so people don't eventually lose interest in this story. I'm hoping to have the next chapter done in the coming week but considering how I've been writing lately, it could be longer.
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3.
There were strange ice chimes hanging above my head.
I blinked.
I’d never seen those before. Looking around, I realized they were the only things I could see and had never seen too. The walls looked light blue in color and there were strange figures painted all over them. Did some of those figures have wings? I tried to look past them but it was all I could see of those. The room was large and cold but I was strangely warm. Bundled up tight and barely able to move except my head. Everything was so big. I was in a cage of some kind, I could see the bars. Yet, there was no top. That’s how I could see the chimes. I was so confused. Had someone come into my room and taken me? To what end though? I was no one important.
Who would want to kidnap me, T…
I couldn’t remember my name.
How could I not remember my name.
I was T...I lived at…
Huh.
There was a commotion from somewhere far away. I could barely hear it but I thought it was running. It got louder and clearer. It was running. Then there was shouting. I think it was coming from right outside the room. The shouting was followed by a loud bang and a rush of air. Someone was in the room with me then. Two someones and they were in a hurry.
“My lady, we don’t have much time!”
A woman.
“I can’t...”
That voice.
I knew that voice.
Suddenly she was there.
Maela.
She was smiling down at me, those bright purple eyes, that dark reddish hair.
She was so big.
Why was Maela so big?
Someone rushed into the room, a man this time.
“They’ve breached the gates, my Queen!”
The other woman spoke. ‘Get every able body you can and hold the courtyard.”
“My life for yours.” said the man then he was gone.
I tried moving again but still couldn’t.
“Are you sure this plan will work?” asked Maela.
She was reaching for me and suddenly I was in her arms. Was she that strong or was I that small? I felt as light as a feather as she gently held me, smiling down at me. Though she was smiling, she looked sad. As if this was the last time I was ever going to see her. The dark makeup that usually adorned her eyes was smeared, her cheeks stained. She’d been crying. I didn’t understand it though, I didn’t understand anything. Was she crying for me?
“Are you sure this will work...”
The other woman was there. “It is the only way.”
Maela stroked my cheek, a single tear dropped onto my forehead.
There was a loud banging…
….Banging on my door.
I snapped my eyes open. My heart was pounding in my chest, I was drenched in sweat. Groaning, I slowly sat up and blinked. Confused. I was in my room, in my own bed. A dream. Another one. I sighed, throwing off my covers. Whoever was banging on my door was still doing it, but I ignored it for a moment. I had to take stock of my surroundings. I was home, in my own house. I was Taylor Stewart, sixteen years old. I sighed again. That dream was a weird one. I’d never quite had one like it before either. Usually my dreams had me as a silent third party observer. They were like watching a movie, the events unfolding in front of me but I never actually interacted with them.
I’d never been a part of them either.
The banging was louder.
I cursed.
I slowly got out of bed and as soon as I got to the door, I fumbled clumsily with the lock. Opening it, my father was glaring at me.
Of course he was.
“What took you so long? I’ve been banging for twenty minutes.”
I shrugged. “I was sleeping.”
I looked at the alarm clock. It was a little after five in the morning. Jeez, he should try it sometime. Why the hell was he waking me up an hour before usual anyway?
“Get dressed, we’re running late.”
"Late for what?”
He gave me a look like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well seeing as I can’t get you after school, you’re gonna have to come to the garage before it instead.”
I groaned. Was he fucking kidding right now?
“This weekend we’re going hunting again too.” he added as an afterthought as he started down the hall.
This man, I swear to God.
He could just never leave well enough alone. I knew what he was doing, he was punishing me. He was so afraid that I was going to somehow tarnish his good name. This wasn’t the first time he’d pulled something like this. Every time I did something he deemed “girly”, he spent days trying to reinforce my masculinity. Last time it was a week-long gauntlet of sports games, fishing and camping. Ironically, I didn’t hate all of it. I was a fairly competent fisher and Dad was a bowhunter. I’d been learning to use a bow since I was six. I considered myself fairly competent with that as well. I liked being in the woods too. It was quiet there. Dad seemed to embrace it as well and he wasn’t such an asshole when it was just the two of us out there. After all there was no need for me to “be a man” when there was no one around to judge.
When Dad wasn’t talking and not trying so hard, I could almost get along with him.
Almost.
I looked into the corner of my room where my bow was sitting. I’d never actually killed anything with it though. That was the one thing that Dad couldn’t stand. Not that I couldn’t kill something. Like I said, I was fairly good with the bow. I just didn’t like the idea of killing something for the sake of killing it. It's like all those martial arts classes Dad wanted me to take as a kid. He wanted me to be a badass fighter, but I was never really into them. It only lasted a couple of years before the teacher told him outright that I didn’t have the aptitude for it. Dad was disappointed but didn’t stop trying. By the time I was in middle school, his attitude shifted and he became angry with everything I did that he didn’t approve of.
Our relationship---what little there was---was never the same again.
I grunted and made my way to the bathroom. I went through my morning routine as fast as humanly possible. After a short shower and a fresh change of clothes, Dad handed me some toast at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t say another thing, instead rushing me toward the door. I barely managed to get my iPad into my backpack before he pushed me into the truck. The drive to the Garage was done in silence. Dad was never much for small talk. The only time he ever spoke to me outside of yelling was when he wanted to “lecture” me on the important things I should know. That was generally a list a mile long, too numerous to name everything. Suffice to say, none of it was “girly” stuff.
When we arrived at Stewart and Sons, Dad pulled up around back.
The Garage belonged to my grandfather. When he retired, Dad took over the business. For as long as I could remember, all Dad talked about me was me inheriting it someday too. He already had my whole future planned out. After graduating high school, I was to go a trade school like him, become an auto mechanic like him, marry, have sons and pass the business onto them. It was the most perfect and simple future. For my father. Whenever he told me these plans, I would just smile and nod. I didn’t know what else to do. Of course I wasn’t going to follow through with any of it. Dad would often lecture me about being Independent and my own man but was trying to force on me the same life that was forced on him.
It was disgusting.
It was a vicious cycle passed from father to son that was going to stop with me.
Whether he liked it or not.
“Start in the back and work your way to those boxes up front. When you’re done, I’ll drop you off at school.”
I looked at the stack of boxes and groaned.
This was going to take a while.
Thankfully there wasn’t actually a lot to do. It took me about an hour, but I managed to clean the back of the store area and shift the boxes from the front to the back. I’d completely forgotten that yesterday was the day Dad got shipments in. No wonder he’d been so pissed. Usually it was my job to take the boxes to the back room for storage. Apparently without me, he just left them there. I know he had other employees, so leaving them was some kind of punishment. Thankfully they weren’t very heavy. Moving all of them was still exhausting though, as soon as I was done, I was panting.
“All moved?” asked Dad as he came out of the little walled cubicle he called an office.
He knew I was done, the cubicle had a large window.
I nodded. Dad pulled four twenties out of his wallet and handed them to me. The money was the only thing I liked about this job. Call my father many things, but he wasn’t stingy when it came to paying me. The problem was, he only paid me if he thought I did a good job. Apparently today was one of those days. In a rare form of affection, he even ruffled the top of my head. He must have been in a good mood today. In fact, I thought I saw a smile.
“Frank, I’m taking the boy to school, you’re in charge!”
“Sure, boss!” shouted the only other employee present today.
I followed Dad to the truck. Again, I thought it was going to be one of those quiet drives like usual. I was surprised when he actually started talking:
“Your mother and I had a conversation last night...”
More like an argument. They were shouting for an hour.
“I’m not happy with any of this.” he continued with a defeated sigh. “But I also know it wasn’t your fault. You have to understand something, you’re my son and I just want what’s best for you...”
We pulled up in front of the school. The Garage was only a five-minute car ride away. I could have walked. I wasn’t sure why Dad wanted to drive me before but now I knew. He wanted to have this conversation with me. We used to have semi-reasonable ones like this before. He tried to start out nice and kind but in the end he made it all about him again. He couldn’t help himself. He was a classic Narcissist. Frankly I was getting a little tired of it. These tactics used to work when I was younger but after yesterday and the weeks that led up to it, I was feeling particularly and uncharacteristically bold this morning.
“You don’t though.” I said, standing up for myself for the first time. “It's NEVER been about me, it's ALWAYS about you!”
I grabbed the door handle in anger.
I pulled my hand back just as fast. It was freezing cold.
Looking at it, it was covered in frost.
“You can’t...” he started, angry.
“Yes, I can!”
This time I didn’t care about the cold handle, I grabbed it, pushed open the door and stormed off. Dad had his window down and was shouting something but I ignored him. I ignored the stares I was getting too. Instead, I lowered my head and stormed into the school in anger.
“That was intense, earlier.”
Mel caught me as I was leaving second period. I jumped a bit, I wasn’t used to people talking to me. She sidled right up beside me though, like we were best friends or something. It was weird actually. I’d known her for well over a year now and this was the second time we actually talked. It was almost as if she was going out of her way to engage me now. Now that I was complaining though. Not having any friends was kinda lonely. You never know how much you miss something until you realize you didn’t have it in the first place.
“You saw that this morning?”
She gave a short laugh. “Tay, everyone saw it!”
Tay?
Ok, as new nicknames went, I suppose it wasn’t the worst.
I winced a bit though. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”
“Don’t worry about, I don’t think anyone really cares.”
Just as she said it though, Donny was coming down the hall toward us. He had that look.
“You and Daddy fighting, princess?” he said with a laugh, getting his two cronies to laugh along with him.
He slammed his shoulder into mine, knocking me off balance.
Mel sidestepped him completely then in one quick motion, swept his foot out from under him. Donny’s fall was downright comical. He staggered a few feet, trying to catch himself before landing face first into the floor. Everyone in the hall erupted in laughter, including his “friends”. Neither one of them bothered to try and help him up either. I did though. Hey, he might be a dick but I was raised right. I held my hand out for him but he smacked it away. Hey, can’t say I didn’t try. Mel gave me a look. The corner of her mouth twitched into maybe a smile?
Donny wasn’t done though.
He jumped to his feet, turning on me in a flash.
“You itching for an ass kicking, Stewart!”
Me, he thought I tripped him?
I looked at Mel, she gave an innocent shrug.
Donny grabbed the front of my shirt. A crowd was already starting to gather.
I was waiting for the “ass kicking” but it never came. The large hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Mr. Franklin.” said a stern voice. “I see you didn’t learn your lesson after all.”
Principal Clarke was a large man. Rumor had he used to play college football and would have gone pro but he got injured and fell back on an education degree. As it stood, most people knew not to cross him. He was a huge black man, towered over just about anyone he met, including my pompous father, I might add. Mr. Clarke was an intense, scary man when he wanted to be.
He looked right at me. “Anything you want to add today, Mr. Stewart?”
“No, sir.”
“He tripped me!” snapped Donny.
His friend interjected. “You tripped over your own two feet, doofus.”
Wait, what?
Mel tripped him, everyone saw it, right? I looked around, wondering if she’d say something. Wait, where was Mel? Did she rabbit on me?
“Everyone to class, now!”
No one second guessed Mr. Clarke. The crowd quickly dispersed. I was happy to see that he didn’t ask me to stay behind this time. I guess it's different when there’s a whole crowd of people around to see the bullying. I couldn’t help but smile smugly at that as I started to my third period class. It was just down the hall and as soon as I got into the classroom and found a seat, Mel dropped into the seat next to me.
“Sorry about that, I can’t get in any more trouble.”
Where did she come from?
I looked around, confused.
“Where did you...how did you...”
She smirked. “I have mad skills.”
I wanted to say more but the bell rang. Class went into full swing and for a good portion of it, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mel. There was something about her again, something just at the back of my mind. It nagged at me all throughout class, making it almost impossible to focus. By the time I actually did, class was over. I moved onto my next class but the feelings were still there. It was made worse by the fact that Mel was there too. It was funny because I didn’t remember her being in this class. The same thing happened in the next two classes as well, both times Mel was there again.
Thankfully, she was nowhere to be found during my lunch period.
I was able to focus on my food without wondering why she kept popping up.
After lunch, classes resumed as usual.
No sign of Mel.
Maybe I was just overthinking it after all?
The rest of the day was fairly normal. I went to class, took notes, stopped thinking about the weirdness from before lunch. After the bell rang for my final class of the day, I did my best to navigate the halls to my locker. At my locker, my cell binged. I was expecting a text from Dad, it was his usual way of barking out orders. What I didn’t expect was one from Brittany. Apparently, they didn’t need me today. There was something about having enough people. I sighed and texted her back, telling her I didn’t have a choice in the matter. She texted back quickly:
All clear with Clarke.
Ok then, guess that means I’m off the hook for the day.
Dad was going to be happy at least.
I wasn’t sure to smile or groan as I dropped off my books, grabbed what I needed for homework tonight and headed down the hall. I thought about texting Dad to tell him I’d be there today after all but I thought against it. Maybe I could give myself a day off. After all, Dad wasn’t expecting me to begin with. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. Besides, I wasn’t up for another screaming fit like this morning. To be honest, I’m still not sure what came over me. Up to this morning, I was perfectly happy letting my father push me around. Well maybe “happy” is the wrong choice of words there. I’m not exactly sure what happened to make me finally push back, but I’m not upset that I did it. My father needed to learn that I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me anymore.
Maybe it was time that other people learned that too?
I couldn’t help but smirk.
Listen to me, thinking I’m some kind of badass.
Then again…
No.
That made me too much like him.
That was the last thing I wanted.
Sighing, I pulled out my phone.
They didn’t need me. I’m on my way to the Garage.
Yep, I’m a wimp.
Walking out of the school, I shivered. It was cold again. It didn’t make any sense either. I checked the weather report last night. It was supposed to be in the sixties still. It felt like the thirties at least. I blew into my hands, seeing my breath. Either the weather man was smoking something nasty last night or there was something seriously wrong with their equipment. Looking up into the sky, I couldn’t help but notice the clouds didn’t look dark and dreary. Maybe our tiny little town was just going through some fluke frost event then? Sure, that made about as much sense as me actually being friends with Donny. I scoffed at that idea and decided to stop wasting time trying to figure out the weather.
Pulling my hood down lower over my face, I made my way through the parking lot.
There was only a few straight paths to the Garage from the school. The most direct one brought me past the depot where the school buses were kept. It was a large brick building that blocked out most of the sun and a good portion of the road beyond. The path between it and the fence surrounding the school grounds was narrow, barely big enough for one person. Definitely not big enough for someone to turn properly without backing up. Walking at a brisk pace, I was hoping to walk the few blocks as fast as possible.
Picking up my pace, I was just to the corner of the warehouse when he appeared.
Josh Martin.
One of Donny’s goons.
I didn’t have time to react as he quickly grabbed the front of my hoodie and pulled me forward. The fist that met my stomach was hard. I doubled over in pain and actually saw stars. Josh didn’t let me fall though. Instead, he cradled his arm around me as I coughed. I was in no position to fight back as he half-walked, half-pulled me along.
“Try anything and I’ll push your ass into traffic.” he hissed into my hair, his mouth inches from my ear lobe.
His hot breath on my cheek.
We were walking along the street now.
Cars were whizzing past.
The school was built on one of the busier streets in town. There was always a lot of traffic.
Unfortunately for me, with so many cars, no one really paid much attention to the sidewalk.
Josh pushed me along, leading me around the other side of the building.
There I found myself in another alley, this one a bit wider but leading to a dead end. It was where the depot kept their dumpsters. It was also where a lot of the assholes from school hung out between classes or sometimes during. Apparently, that transferred to after school as well. There were three of them here now, besides Josh. I didn’t know all their names but I’d seen them around, mostly with Donny. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. I also noticed that Donny wasn’t with them either. Which meant he either didn’t want to get into more trouble or didn’t know this was happening. Either scenario, he was smart enough not to get involved.
Josh shoved me forward.
I stumbled, barely able to catch myself before ending up on my knees.
The others laughed.
I recognized two of them from the hall this morning.
Keeping my balance, I snapped up to look at their faces. Both were blonde and nondescript. They were both wearing their letterman jackets though. I’d say football but no one on the team was stupid enough to do something like this. There was too much at stake. If you were caught fighting, you’d get kicked off the team. If I had to guess, I’d say wrestling maybe. Most people didn’t think twice about the wrestlers causing trouble. They were loud mouths sure, but they generally blended into the background. The wrestling team was pretty shit too, so no one cared if they got caught fighting. All the more reason why Donny probably made them do his dirty work.
“We saw what you did this morning.” said Josh, stepping around me. “You’re not as slick as you think you are.”
What I did?
Wait, did they think I tripped Donny?
“It wasn’t me.” I said truthfully.
Josh scoffed. “I was there. You don’t expect us to believe he actually tripped over his own two feet, do you?”
Wait, if he was there, why didn’t he see Mel do it?
“No, but...”
Josh didn’t wait for me to say anything else. The three of them were clearly of little intelligence and didn’t really care about conversation. All they wanted to do was beat the crap out of me. Josh took another swing, this time I saw it coming. I snapped my head back, avoiding his swing. I might have been five when I stopped taking those karate lessons but that didn’t mean I was helpless. I’d been in a lot of fights over the years. Most of them with guys like Josh and his friends here. Sure, I’d never actually been in a fight with odds stacked against me like this, but bullies rarely fought alone.
As was the case with this group.
As soon as I dodged Josh’s punch, I was tackled to the ground.
It was a cheap shot.
The guy was bigger than me and he hit like a truck. I didn’t have much time to react and it was clear that he was definitely on the wrestling team.
He got one of my arms pulled behind my back and with one of his knees, he pressed my face into the pavement. I started to struggle but it was no use, this guy was a lot stronger than me. This was all total bullshit. Three against one because their buddy was butthurt I got him in trouble for something he did. I never understood how bullies operated. They were the most selfish, self-centered morons on the face of the planet. What’s worse, they got away with it. Thinking about how stupid it was really pissed me off.
“This is how it's going to go” said their ringleader, now crouched with his face once again inches from my own. “You’re going to Clarke’s office tomorrow. You’re going to tell him that you tripped Donny and that you were only out to humiliate him and then...”
Josh stopped talking.
At first I thought maybe it was because he ran out of threats but then I noticed something. The alleyway was starting to get really cold. I felt the moron on top of me loosen his grip. I pushed up, managing to knock him off of me. I was surprised at how easy it was. He didn’t try to push me back down, in fact, he staggered away from me. Taking the opportunity, I jumped to my feet. The air around me was cold, colder than I’d ever felt before. It was almost as if the four of us were standing in a giant freezer. I wasn’t the only one to notice either. The two wrestling morons were looking around, probably trying to see if there was some kind of giant fan or something. I’m not going to lie, I took a look too. It was way too cold for this to be natural, especially because I knew the weather forecast. Yet, here we all were, in a deep freeze in the middle of nowhere.
“What... ttt-the fuuuu---ck is th-iiiis...” one of them asked, his voice stuttering, his teeth chattering.
The other one wasn’t talking at all.
He looked pale, his skin was starting to turn a slight blue.
I didn’t wait around to see anymore.
Taking advantage, I scrambled to my feet and started to run. I didn’t get very far before Josh tried to stop me. First he tried to grab for my pack but when I turned away from his reach, he changed tactics and grabbed my arm. Sometime in the scuffle before, my sleeve got rolled and my bare arm was exposed. Josh grabbed it, no doubt hoping to use his strength to his advantage once again. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, I felt him tug me back and then I heard him scream.
It was loud and blood-curdling.
I looked at his hand and watched in awe as his flesh turned blue and a thin layer of ice spread up from his fingertips up to his elbow. Josh was screaming at the top of his lungs as it was happening, thrashing and trying to pull away. I saw his flesh split, watched as the blood and bone froze. Then I reacted, pulling my arm away sharply. As soon as I did, Josh’s bones cracked. I heard snapping, two of his fingers broke away.
I almost puked but instead, I ran.
The last thing I heard was Josh’s screams as I dashed out of the alley and down the street.
I never once looked back.
Elsewhere
It watched.
It waited.
It listened.
It chuckled.
“There you are...”
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
George has always been a little different from other boys thanks to a childhood accident. Now an incident at school might help him figure out how different he truly is. >
George has always been a little different from other boys thanks to a childhood accident. Now an incident at school might help him figure out how different he truly is. >
Now available here on Amazon.
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
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Author's Note: Ok so here's the new story I promised. I'm a good portion of the way done with this one, currently writing Ch. 8 as I type this. This one is a spin off to It's Just a Skirt, set in the same town with some overlapping characters here and there. Though you don't have to, I highly recommend reading It's Just a Skirt before this. Just for some background and things. If anyone has read my Center story, The Center: Weight Problem, then they'll be familiar with the format I'm gonna use here. I have two characters---a brother and sister---with each one telling a chapter from their POV. Some events will overlap but more often than not, each chapter will progress things forward. I'd like to thank ashleigh for all the editing and proof reading help
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1.
“Hey, Jess wait up!”
I tried to ignore her. Which if you know Tiffany Reynolds, that’s pretty much impossible. For one thing, she’s on the soccer team so she’s really fast. For another, she’s been the lead in every musical since the third grade so she has one of those voices. Fast and kinda loud when she could be, Tiff was definitely impossible to forget. So I couldn't out run her. I wasn’t the sporty one of the family, that was my sister. I also wasn’t one of those hard body type guys with the muscles, capable of running thousands of laps. It was because of my sister though that I was currently trying to ignore Tiffany.
Because well my name isn’t Jess.
“JESS!” she shouted louder, her footfall getting closer.
I hated it when this happened.
Because it always happened.
You see Jess and I have the rare distinction of being twins. I say rare because we’re the only set of twins in the whole of the tenth grade. There were only four sets of twins in all of Dover High actually. I’m not sure how many in our sleepy little town but from what I’d seen, not very many. Not that I go out of my way to look for them or anything. It’s just one of those things you notice when you’re walking about and things. It made me feel special being unique.
Well, most of the time anyway.
Today not so much.
Tiffany, it would seem finally caught up with me. Not that it was hard to do after all.
“Jess, I've been shouting for you,” she said, huffing. “Why are you ignoring me?”
I smiled weakly, trying to be polite.
I hated when people confused the two of us. I mean I used to like it when Jess and I went out of our way to confuse people but it sucked to be them. It used to be a fun game we used to play. That was of course before we actually talked like normal siblings. When we were little, it was always a blast. Jess was always a bit of a tomboy so she used to keep her auburn hair short like mine. She never used to like to wear dresses either which always angered our mother. When we stood side by side we looked like two brothers. She even called herself J.D., short for Jessica Diane. It was kind of fun for a while. No one was ever able to tell us apart. As we got older, though, the fun started to fade. Jess was still the tomboy but we drifted apart. My cool sometimes brother J.D. disappeared to be replaced by my standoffish and overly superior sister, Jess.
Now we were literally strangers.
The only time I saw her now---outside of school---was when I looked in the mirror.
It was very unsettling, to say the least.
I mean what sixteen-year-old boy wants to look into the mirror and see the face of his sister staring back at him. Many people thought we were identical twins believe it or not. I mean it’s not possible. For us to be identical I mean. Well not in real life anyway. I’d seen it a lot in different things---movies, manga, anime. What the media and most people didn’t seem to understand was identical and fraternal were not terms for how the twins looked. The term identical twin actually meant being born from the same zygote. The only way that Jess and I could be identical is if I was her twin sister or her my twin brother.
Different sex identical twins were impossible.
It didn’t matter how much alike the two of us looked.
“What gives?” said Tiffany. Breaking my thoughts. “I mean I’ve been trying to get your attention since Mr. Hope’s class”
“Tiff,” I said and sighed. “I’m not…”
“Tiff what the hell!”
And speaking of Jess.
My sister came stomping over. I say stomping because that best describes how she left and entered a room. Walking down the hall was apparently no different. Jess always had this presence that made people notice. Me, I tended to blend in and disappear. The best she could ever do to blend in was keep her mouth shut.
Jess was in top form today, wearing her trademark scowl. She seemed to scowl at everyone nowadays. Even her friends it seemed.
Tiff looked confused. Staring from her to me and back again.
"That’s my dweeb of a brother,” she said, grabbing her friend by the arm and dragging her away.
They laughed a moment later---probably at my expense---before heading off down the hall.
It was just as well, Jess infuriated the hell out of me when she was around.
Like I said, we used to be really close. It was fun to have someone who looked almost like you. The pranks and games we used to pull on people were a blast. As we got older things changed. Jess got bit by the sports bug in middle school. Soccer and track mainly. Her priorities began to change and her free time was taken up with practices and tryouts. She started to become aggressive and overly competitive too. It was hard to hang out with her when all she wanted to do was prove she was better than me at everything. So eventually I just stopped trying.
That’s when I found music.
Our sister Tracy used to be in a band in high school. She played lead guitar and was pretty damn good at it too. Before her senior year of high school though she gave it up to pursue theater. When she went away to college, she left all her music stuff behind. She’d been teaching me to play guitar for years. She let me use this old Fender she had from when she was younger. She surprised the hell out me though when she gifted me with her pride and joy—her Mosrite. The god among guitars, Johnny Ramone’s guitar. Well, not his actual guitar but you know what I mean. I remember when she bought it, how much money she had saved up for it.
‘The torch has been passed” she said with a smile and hug when she handed it to me.
I was eleven at the time. You could only imagine what a gift like that did to my eleven-year-old self-esteem.
It definitely had an effect on Jess. She was a bitch for the rest of the month over it.
Then again, she and Tracy had never really been close.
I now owned a fair collection of guitars---both acoustic and electric--- but the Mosrite held a special place in my heart.
A slamming locker brought me out of thoughts.
I looked to see if my sister and Tiff were still about but they were already mostly out of sight. I watched them as they disappeared down the hall before finally making my way to my locker. It was the end of the day, so the hall was slowly starting to drain from the congestion of students a moment before. Jess and Tiff were probably off to some stupid practice. I didn’t really care, to be honest.
I dropped my stuff off at my locker.
I gathered the few meager things I’d need for homework tonight then cursed when I saw the time on my watch.
I had my own practice I was going to be late for.
Damn it.
The guys were waiting and they looked pissed.
I rushed through the parking lot as fast as I could, though. I knew I was going to be late. Stupid Tiff, stupid Jess. I’d been getting a lot of shit from the two bozos lately about my tardiness. They kept questioning my commitment to the band. Hey, I was committed; I was more committed than either of them in fact. It was my idea for the band in the first place actually. It was actually Tracy’s idea if you wanted to get technical. After all, she was the one who gave me the guitar and who said that I had this edgy pseudo-punk/metal thing going on. It was just a shame my voice wasn’t as edgy. I could play like a beast apparently but I sang like a chick.
Sure I sounded like an angsty chick but a chick nonetheless.
It sucked too.
We were still without a lead singer, though.
So I guess you couldn’t really call us a band after all.
“Jeez dude, you’re killing our buzz,” said Steve as he opened the side down of his van.
Steve was our drummer. He was a pretty cool guy I guess. Short and round but very mellow. It didn’t matter what anyone did actually because they were always killing the buzz.
I dropped off my guitar and turned to Craig.
Craig was our bass player. He was one of the best ones around. You name it, he could play it. He had one of those ears you know. It didn’t take him long to pick up a tune as soon as he heard it. He called it his “Gift”. I had to look up at Craig because he was so tall. He was the complete opposite of Steve too. Thin and slightly emo, Craig could be a bit of a downer if you let him be. Whenever he wrote a song it was either about suffering or darkness. Steve and I did our best to reign him in as much as possible.
It didn’t help that he was a bit down as of late.
He’d met this girl. His Mystery Goddess. It was last month at the mall, he was working late and she apparently was a vision of beauty. Blonde, perky and totally into him.
A blonde walked by.
Craig followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight.
“That her, huh?” asked Steve with a laugh.
Steve was under the impression that the “Mystery Goddess” was also the “Figment of Imagination Goddess”.
Craig frowned.
“She’s real dude!”
“So was Santa Claus until we were like nine”
Steve started laughing then hopped into the van.
I looked at the girl Craig was staring at. I’d only seen her for a second but sighed.
“And that was Holly Weeks, you want to stay away from that one. I heard one of the guys in gym class talking, she’s obsessed with glitter, Hello Kitty, and MLP”
Craig and I both shuddered.
We both climbed into the van after that.
We all lived in roughly the same neighborhood.we were elite but rejects too. Just like me, the two of them opted out of St. Andrews---the prestigious rich school where most of our ilk went . Steve’s Dad was a lawyer and almost sent him to some military school in California to straighten him out. Thankfully he was able to talk the old man out of it. Craig’s Dad was a doctor like mine, unlike mine though he was a heart surgeon. He wanted his son to have a good education but at the same time understood the need for growth and exploration. So like my folks, Dr. Crane let his son decide.
Oh right, details.
Ok so here goes.
My Dad was a GP. Not the only one in town of course but one of the most popular ones. It helped that he used to be a big ball player back in his day. He almost made it to the Major Leagues but opted out of it for medical school. He really pissed off his Dad. My grandfather was one of those guys. He wanted my Dad---his eldest---to take over the family real estate business. Well, actually he wanted my Dad to play some major league ball then retire then take over the business. My Dad threw a wrench in the plans though when he decided he wanted to live his own life. Gramps got what he wanted though when Uncle Connor took over the family business last year.
Mom was a different sort.
She and Dad met in college. She was a carefree spirit that, well let’s just say if you grew up in the eighties, you knew her face. She was Krystal Klear. You know that flighty teen pop star. She had a slew of number one hits, including “Dime Store Dolly” and “No Thank You, Sir”. Mom was a chart topper but shocked the world when she quit it all to go to college. She fell into obscurity, got a degree in music and came back on the scene when she opened her own studio. She rebranded herself and Clearwater Records became one of the choice labels for young up and coming pop stars.
Dad marrying a former pop princess really pissed Gramps off.
Dad was disinherited but he didn’t really care. He had his own money. Not as much as Gramps of course but enough to live comfortably. It helped that Mom made quite a bit of dough too. Even with gramps snubbing, Mom and Dad did very well for themselves. Which of course only pissed off Gramps even more. He and my Dad were still on unspeaking terms. Hell, I only ever saw my grandfather at the holidays and even then it was a pretty cold affair. He was good to us kids but that didn’t really say much. We were the Black Sheep of the Flynn clan.
I didn’t mind one bit.
“Earth to Jay?” said Craig, waving his hand in front of my face.
Shit.
“Sorry, was zoning,” I said, blinking.
“No duh,” said Craig with a laugh. “So what do you think?”
“About what?”
This time, Steve laughed, Craig rolled his eyes.
“We were talking about a singer”
The main topic of contention as of late.
“You don’t think you could…”
“No!” I snapped.
This was the contention part. You see we’ve been going back and forth on this for a few months now. We had a great sound, Craig was cobbling together some songs while we blasted away on some covers. Steve killed it on the drums, Craig’s bass was out of this world and well not to toot my own horn but I’m a Guitar God. That was the problem, though. We were all sound. Neither of them could carry a tune at all. I could sing, I could sing really well. Better than well I guess or at least that’s what everyone used to tell me.
The problem was I could only sing like a girl.
Ok, time for another rewind.
My mother always wanted her children to be musically inclined. She started with Tracy of course. My sister has been playing the guitar since she was four. She took to it naturally. Mom got her lessons and my parents bought her all the guitars she wanted. Hell, they even converted the basement into a little studio. When Jess and I came along, Mom tried with us too. Jess didn’t do so well. I guess she’s wired a bit differently than Tracy and me. She tried. She tried really hard. She wanted to impress Mom but I guess she had too much of Dad in her. Mom tried too but the two of them really don’t have anything in common. So Jess failed. It’s not that Mom loves her any less but it’s hard to connect with your child when you don’t share the same interests. Jess fell in with Dad. The two of them fit together. Me, well I think you can figure that out.
Mom called me her little prodigy.
“Oh a voice like an angel”
“So darling too. You must be so proud”
Mom was proud too. I started my singing lessons at a very young age. Like Tracy with the guitar, Mom wanted more for me. Not that she pushed me. She just didn’t hold back on what she wanted. She knew I had talent too. They all did. Every teacher I had told me how wonderful I was. I could go anywhere with that voice of mine. I loved it too. It was something that my sister didn’t have. All our life, Jess and I were always compared to one another. Sure she had all this athletic talent but me, I could sing. I loved to sing too. I felt free and alive when singing.
Puberty changed things.
Not for the bad either.
You see unlike most boys; my voice didn’t really change. I’m not sure why. Well, I knew why actually. Low testosterone count. It wasn’t all that uncommon actually. It was the reason why, even at sixteen, I still resembled my twin sister a great deal. I was still pretty short, still had a slim figure and a slight frame. Then there was my hair, long, silky smooth and auburn. It was no wonder my sister and I were always mistaken for one another.
I stopped singing after my fourteenth birthday, though.
I did this Chorus concert where I was given a solo. Everyone loved me. There was a lot of clapping, everyone was on their feet. I felt like a star. Well apparently not everyone liked it. Afterward, on my way home from school some of my male classmates expressed their feelings to me. It’s hard to fight back when it's four on one. They kicked my ass pretty good. Like broken arm good. Dad wanted to press charges but I refused to name names. I didn’t want the retribution that followed. My parents weren’t happy but I didn’t care. I decided something else too that really upset them. I decided from that day forward that I was never going to sing again.
Craig was still staring at me.
I know what he wanted. They’d been asking me it ever since we formed Sonic Wavelength. Oh, that’s the name of our band, cool right?
“Just one time!”
“No!” I snapped again.
We’d had this conversation before.
“We need you” he whined. “We all know you could pull this off in your sleep. You have this killer voice, dude. You could rock if you tried. Imagine the chicks who would line up to hear those pipes of yours”
I scoffed. ‘The chicks won’t be lining up to do me. They’ll be lining up asking me how come I don’t wear skirts like the rest of them”
We’d had this conversation before too. They were like broken records, the both of them. They wanted me to sing, I told them no and then we’d start this tug of war all over again. It was getting us nowhere. What we needed was to find a real singer. I’d been trying to push them toward open auditions for a while now actually. I say pushing because both of them kept pushing back. The difference between them and me, though, I had a mega music producer as a mother.
I let that little bit settle.
I didn’t say a thing to them.
I got tired of all this back and forth, neither side making any headway so I decided to take care of it last night. How did I take care of it? Easy, I asked my mother for help. She sent out her feelers, got the ball rolling and as soon as we got to my house, we were going to see the fruits of Mom’s labors. She promised she’d organize us an audition with some of the best talents coming out of her office. She wanted to make sure we got the best singer that she could find. Actually, she said second best because of course Mom kinda agreed with the guys.
I wasn’t going there, though.
“Dude?” said Steve as we got closer to the house. “When did you guys get a motorcycle?”
I looked out the window of the van as we approached. Sure enough, there was a motorcycle in the driveway. From the sleek design and silver finish, it looked expensive too.
“Dude that’s a Kawasaki Ninja H2 R,” said Craig, clearly salivating.
‘I take it that means it’s a nice one?”
“Like 50 grand nice!”
Holy shit.
I couldn’t help but stare at the rather expensive foreign motorcycle currently in my driveway. More to the point, though, I wondered where it came from. I was no stranger to seeing the like in my driveway of course---what with some of mother’s clients and friends. I’d just never seen one without knowing who was the driver or knowing when said driver was coming over. Mom didn’t have any secrets and she didn’t like to spring uninvited guests unto us. So when a client or friend was coming to visit, she gave us early warning. Partially because one time Jess freaked out when teeny bopper sensation Brian Vogel was in our kitchen one day after school and also because of privacy. Mainly because of the “Vogel Incident” though, Brian actually filed a restraining order against my sister. Ok so that last part is false but if I was him I would have.
“So which celebutante friend of your Mom’s drives that thing?” asked Steve as he parked his van on the road.
I shrugged. “No clue”
We filed out of the van after that. While Craig and Steve unloaded their stuff, I made a beeline for the house. If it was someone famous, I wanted to make sure I got there first to cut them off at the pass. I didn’t want another “Vogel Incident” on my hands. Or a “Tara McGee Fiasco” when she showed up for my birthday. Tara was a friend actually. She and I used to do music lessons together. Whereas she went on to become this big famous country star, I stayed boring old Jordan. We still Skyped and emailed as often as she could, though. I mean hell she was my age. It’s not like she was this big superstar or anything.
Ok so she was but she was always just T-Bone to me.
I rushed into the house as quick as I could. I tossed my pack on the couch, left my Yamaha by the door. In the kitchen, I heard my mother talking to someone.
“JC, that you?”
"Yeah Mom” I called as I made my way to the kitchen.
“Good, I want you to meet someone”
As soon as I walked in, I saw my mother and this stunning blonde sitting at the kitchen table.
Well, Mom was stunning too I suppose.
The blonde, though, she was a head turner. She was all legs and boobs. Her hair was streaked red, she wore dark smoky eye makeup and this tight little top and skin tight jeans and well you get the picture. She was nursing a cup of hot cocoa and smiled at me when I entered.
“Jordan, this is Victoria Fairchild. Victoria this is my son, Jordan”
“Hey, there,” she said, still smiling. “My friends call me Torrie”
“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my cool.
I mean it’s not every day that someone like her is sitting in your kitchen.
“Torrie is here in regards to your singer problem”
And thank you, Mom.
“That’s cool. We really need the help. The guys are on their way in now probably. I’ll let you meet them then we can see what you got”
“Sure that sounds awesome”
I let her finish her cocoa before I made intros. As soon as I walked out into the living room with her, I thought the guys were going to drop dead. I mean it’s not every day that a girl like her bothers with peons like us. As soon as I made the intros, I thought the two of them were going to run each over in an attempt to shake her hand first. Torrie and I giggled over the stupidity of it all. Yeah, I giggled. What you want to make something of it?
“Guys," I said as soon as they recovered. “Torrie is here to help the band. She’s gonna sing with us today and see how it fits.”
They just dumbly nodded.
I led her down the stairs to the basement. Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumb Ass followed. I’ll let you figure out which one was which. I unlocked the recording room door and held it open for her. The smile I got from her made my day. It was clear what she was trying to do but I didn’t care. I wanted to breathe the same air with this Goddess.
“This is awesome,” she said, looking around the room.
Mom actually had the basement converted into a studio when she was pregnant with Tracy. It helped her work at home. She could bring artists here and not bother dragging them to her studio in the city or the record label in NYC. She was also convinced that her daughter and any future children would be musicians. The room definitely scored me mega brownie points with potential friends over the years. Unfortunately, all of the two friends I had were in the room with me.
The home studio was pretty much set up like the studios at the office.
Since our house was rather large, we have a pretty good size basement. The people who put together the room utilized the space pretty well. Most of it, of course, was taken up by the live room where the musicians sang their songs. Then there was the recording booth, a small iso room and a tiny area to sit and hang out. Along the walls were speakers and storage. Plus, a lot of records, Mom’s and clients. It helped sell things to potential talent. Mom liked to bring new clients here first. It was where she got to see them shine. It also made them less nervous. Some of the biggest artists laid out their tracks here first. It was a good thing the place was totally sound proof too because Mom has had some real loud ones here.
I told the guys to set up then went to get my guitar.
I kept my practice guitar down here with a lot of other instruments. Of course, mine were separate and locked away from the others. In total, I had ten guitars. Six Strats, three Yamahas and the Mosrite of course. I barely touched the Mosrite though. It was my pride and joy after all. In fact, it was the only one I actually kept in my room, usually under heavy lock and key. There was no way I was gonna let anyone get their grubby hands on it after all.
Torrie watched me unlock the cabinet.
“Those are yours?’ she asked when I retrieved one of the Strats.
I kept the acoustic and electric guitars in separate storage compartments. I played them all equally but some got more play time than others.
“I like the Fenders,” I said, taking the guitar out of its case. “They’ve got a nice sound.”
She nodded. “You play acoustic too?”
“Of course”
She smiled again. God this girl has to stop smiling.
It was intoxicating.
“Yo Jordo, you ready?”
It didn’t take us long to get set up. As soon as we did, we decided to run through the songs for Torrie. Craig was our chief songwriter. Because we were mostly a punk band most the songs---the ones we made him write---were fairly loud and insanely upbeat. We envisioned ourselves as a pseudo-Green Day so if you know the sound you know how it goes. He had about four songs at the moment but was currently writing a fifth. They weren’t bad but they weren’t anything to write home to Mom about either. Speaking of Mom, she totally kept her nose out of things. She wanted me to thrive or fail on my own. She was cool that way. Of course, she offered pointers here and there but nothing too critical and always after we were done.
She wanted to see me succeed after all.
It only took us about twenty minutes to go through what we had.
I couldn’t help but notice Torrie bopping her head along with them.
When we finished, she was smiling again.
“You guys rocked it,” she said then looked from each of us. “You think maybe I can hear one or two sung as well. You know just so I know what I’m getting myself into?”
We looked at each other.
Here it comes, our problem.
“Just one Jordan,” said Craig, giving me the pleading puppy dog look.
“Fine,” I said, caving. “But just one and only one!”
Torrie gave us a strange look.
I took a deep breath as Craig started in with the bass. God, what the hell was I doing. I counted it out in my head, waiting for my intro. First with the guitar then with the lyrics. I’d memorized them of course, we all did. It helped us know when our parts were needed and things. Like I said Craig wasn’t a bad writer it just wasn’t really my thing. I agreed to the band of course but I was overruled on the sound. I wanted something more pop rock and dare I say folk sounding you know like Jewel. Steve was all for metal. He was a big metal head. It was Craig who pretty much decided we were gonna go punk. Well, Craig and Steve actually because they could blend a little metal in to make it sound awesome.
The guys liked to overrule me when it suited their needs.
Except for the whole singing thing of course.
Speaking of singing, as soon as I started, Torrie gave me this look. I knew it well; I’d seen it many times before. It was the “holy shit is that coming out of his mouth” look. It was the same look I got on my first day in the Chorus back in middle school. It was also the same look that every music teacher I ever had gave me. Hell, even Tara gave me that look when she first heard me sing. She’s the professional too. There was something about that look, though, something that made me come alive. I’d lie if I didn’t say I loved to sing. I really did. I felt like me when I was singing. The problem was I was still afraid of what might happen if well people got the wrong idea. I was a guy who sung like a girl and who looked a bit like one too.
There were a lot of assholes out there you know.
Hell four of them broke my arm.
Torrie gave me the look throughout the whole song. When I finished she was still giving me that look. She was smiling too which was suddenly contagious because I started to smile too. She surprised me a moment later when she hugged me.
“You made me a little wet” she whispered in my ear.
Holy shit.
She pulled away and rubbed her hands together like Mr. Burns.
“That was epic,” she said then took the mic from its stand. “My turn now”
We started up again and of course, Torrie killed it.
I smiled because of course, she was awesome.
I felt a little pang of jealousy too.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
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Author's Note:Like I promised before here is Ch.2 on Monday. From now on, every new chapter of this story will be posted on Mondays. This is a Jess centric chapter, told from her POV. Each chapter will alternate. I'll let you know if that changes in the Author Note of the perspective chapter. I most forewarn people about a few things. One there is a Non-transgendered tag for this chapter. Because well I don't really get into much of anything like that here. At least not this chapter. Another thing, Jess's narrative is a bit separate from her brother's, she has her own story she goes on. That doesn't mean that there won't be some crossing from time to time. Its something new I'm gonna try here. I hope it works and I hope people will like it. Oh the biggest thing is, she's a major bitch. A lot of people aren't going to like her lol. Don't judge her too harshly though. I'd like to thank ashleigh for all the editing and proof reading help
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2.
Jess
“Blah, blah, blah, Blah”
Mr. Norris had one of those voices. The man could drone on and on and all it ever really sounded like was noise. I hated his class. I hated the way his monotone seemed to make everyone want to shoot themselves. I hated the way that he didn’t really notice how boring he was. More than anything, though, I hated it was my last class of the day. I had more important things to do than sit here and listen to him bore away the hour with a Math lesson that I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand.
Well, maybe not everyone.
I looked over at Lacy Peters.
She was that girl.
You know that little stuck up snot who spent all her school time with her lips firmly planted on the teacher’s ass. Ok, so that was a bit harsh. Lacy was a good person. She was just so damn annoying too. I wouldn’t say I hated her but I did hate how most teachers graded on a curve. Lacy was one of the ones that threw off that curve a great deal. Well, not the only one of course.
Jordan helped.
My dweeby “little” brother. Hey, we might be twins but I was born two minutes before so that makes me older. As the older sibling, I was supposed to be hard on my brother. I think it’s in the rulebook or something. It wasn’t always like that, though. At one time, he and I used to get along pretty well. I’m not sure when things changed, though. It wasn’t like one day I woke up and decided to hate him. He didn’t just wake up and turn into a dweeb overnight either. It was this gradual thing.
Puberty had a lot to do with it too.
Puberty had not been kind to Jordan.
We were twins. Almost identical all our lives. It was fun when we were younger. We could mess with people because it was always hard to tell us apart at first. I say at first because Jordan could never keep it going for long. It was our subtle differences that gave us away. For one thing, he’s really quiet. I wouldn’t say shy but he had this meek way. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word “No” and he’s always letting others push him around because of it. I hate to call him a wuss, but it’s hard not too when well…yeah, he’s a wuss. It only got worse as we got older. Whereas all the boys around him were getting taller and stronger, he pretty much stayed the same.
A sixteen- year- old brother was still not supposed to look like his sister.
Ok so he didn’t have boobs or things like but he still had my face. He had my hair too. We had this coppery blonde hair that hung to our backs, a slight wave too. I used to love it when we were younger because I could braid his hair and put bows in it and things. It was like having a sister. As we got older, though, it stopped being so cool. I mean he’s still not supposed to have that hair. He was supposed to cut it, shave it down to a buzz or something. His skin wasn’t supposed to be that soft either and his voice, don’t even get me started on that voice. He sounded girlier than I did.
I mean he’s my brother. He’s not supposed to look and sound like my sister.
God was cruel to Jordan.
In a way, he was cruel to me too.
We had the same head but I was a little rougher around the edges. My voice a bit huskier, my skin tough from sports. I had a boyish figure too. Very little hips, flat as a board. He might have looked and sounded like a sister but I wasn’t supposed to look like a brother. It didn’t help that Jordan got all the talent too. He was a top notch singer and the way he played the guitar was out of this world. Sure I had sports but what good was kicking a ball around when your brother could put the likes of Taylor Swift to blame. I tried to sing like him but apparently, musical talent only struck some parts of my family.
In that respect, I was the black sheep.
Baah.
“Ok class,” said Norris, glancing at the clock. “I want you to do problems sixty-five through one hundred in the back of your book. If you have any questions, email me”
The bell rang a second later.
Mr. Norris started to say something else but most of the class was out the door.
Including me.
I rushed into the hallway, falling into step with the horde.
TGIF.
This week has been totally boring. The only good thing about it is today. I’ve been waiting all week for today. Today was soccer tryouts. I know what you’re thinking and you’d be correct, yes tryouts are usually the previous year. They were too. Except well there was an accident last week. It was during the fall parade. Every year the soccer boys and girls fundraise for a float. Well, this year was no different except the float was poorly made. Halfway down Main Street, something went wrong and the float collapsed. Two of our girls broke their legs, another broke her ankle. Two of the boys got out of it with broken limbs too.
Boys’ soccer was going to recover. They always did. Us girls, not so much.
Coach Ross felt it only fair that we redo tryouts to fill the empty slots. We only had three alternates---Claire, Britney and myself. This horrible tragedy was my chance. I got screwed out of being on the team last year and being an alternate was insulting. The coach knew I was the best one on the team and when I told her so she got pissy. Said the reason I was made an alternate was because I needed to drop the ego and be a team player. As if I’m not a team player. I mean I did let Tiff take the number nine for her jersey. Everyone knows the best soccer players have number nine. I mean that’s being a team player, right?
Speaking of Tiff…
I saw her running down the hall, trying to catch up with someone. Looking a bit ahead, I saw the back of my brother trying desperately to get away from her.
Not again.
I picked up pace.
Tiff caught up with him as he was approaching his locker.
I heard her: “What gives, I mean I’ve been trying to get your attention since Mr. Hope’s class?”
Idiot.
I loved Tiff to death. She was my BFF. She was, however, the dimmest bulb I’ve ever met. Most commoners had problems telling me and Jordan apart. Tiff should have been a top notch above the rest. I say should have been but like I said, she’s kinda stupid. She only made up for her low IQ on the field. She was one of the best scrimmagers on the team, and on the track, she was a natural sprinter. In the classroom, a piece of chalk was smarter. Ok, so that’s harsh. She was actually pretty smart but she was just dense when it came to certain things.
Like apparently telling the difference between a boy and a girl.
To his credit, Jordan was trying to set her straight.
He was fumbling it again, though.
“Tiff’ I said, annoyed, “what the hell?”
The Light Bulb Goddess looked from me to him then back to me.
“That’s my dweeb of a brother!”
I grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
Tiff laughed. “He should really get a haircut.”
I laughed a bit too.
Jordan turned away from us and went to his locker. I couldn’t help but watch him for a few seconds, though. God, could he be any more obvious. Well ok, he probably didn’t notice but his look screamed attention. I don’t think he intentionally meant to be androgynous but with his hair and slight build, he did it without realizing it. It didn’t help that he tried to hide it either. Hiding it only made him look even more androgynous. I mean seriously---a zip up hoodie, faded blue jeans and high tops. He was just screaming girl. Not to mention his hair. He did this thing where he let part of it hang over his right eye?
Idiot.
“So I’ve got some news,” said Tiff as we stopped at my locker. “Mondo bad.”
I rolled my eyes. Tiff’s idea of bad news would be the Biebs and Gomez getting back together again.
“Ok, so what’s so mondo bad?” I asked, humoring her.
“Claire and Britney are done”
“What?”
That wasn’t bad news. That was horrible news.
“Well Claire’s Dad just got a transfer so they’re moving and Brit doesn’t want to be on the team without her”
“Skanks”
Ok so that was harsh but this was horrible timing.
There were only a handful of girls in the school who were even soccer worthy, to begin with. Besides Tiff who didn’t make the cut last year, that left only a couple of other contenders. Claire and Brit were shoe-ins for the main team. With them gone, there were maybe three or four other girls. Girls soccer took a mondo hit last year too when it was announced that the school was canceling the JV team. There just wasn’t enough interest in girl’s athletics at DCH. Most of the junior and senior girls decided to take their chances with intramural soccer at the community center. So that only left freshman, sophomore, and a few upper classmen stragglers.
Not a good sign.
I grabbed my gym bag from my locker, huffing as I did so.
“So with them out of the way, who do we have left?”
“Ummm,” said Tiff as we started walking. “Dana?”
“She’s doing track this year again”
Tiff was on the track team too but only did the outdoor stuff which was a spring thing.
It was the middle of October now. Soccer thankfully was an all-season thing. Indoor in the winter, outdoor in the spring.
"What about Carly?”
“You didn’t hear?” I asked, shocked. Tiff shock her head. “You haven’t seen her. Well apparently over the summer, Carly, and her fam went on a vacay to Mexico. She blimped out big time. Put on like twenty pounds or something. I saw her in the workout room the other day, crying as she was trying to burn them off. Jake broke up with her too. Totally tragic”
“Holy cow!”
“I know right”
We both had a good laugh.
Poor Carly though.
But more than that, poor Jake.
“Well maybe we can bring in someone else, you know from out of town?”
“Like who?”
“I heard there was this girl over in Prescott…”
I’d heard about her too. She was supposed to be this Soccer Goddess, a beast on the field. Christy something. She had great potential I suppose but I’d also heard she quit cold turkey too.
“And how do we get a Prescott girl here, huh?” I asked. “I mean that place is like what, fifty miles away or something?”
Tiff shrugged.
"From now on, only smart ideas please”
Tiff said nothing more. Which was fine by me because I needed time to think.
But if Brit and Claire ruined my chances of getting on the main team, there was going to be hell to pay for them.
When we got to the gym, there was a bit of a commotion by the front door.
I recognized the five or six girls left on the team plus a few others. It looked like they were staring at something on the door. Probably another message from coach. Coach Ross liked to do that from time to time. Usually, the memos told them to head out the field after changing, things like that. There was a similar memo last week, telling them about new tryouts.
I pushed my way through the crowd, getting a dirty look or two.
Janey Marx was currently reading whatever was there.
“Shit” she cursed.
The girls looked a bit shocked. Janey was one of those holier than thou types, she never swore. So if Janey was swearing than you knew it was bad.
I ignored it for a sec and took a look at the notice.
It was a computer printout but I could tell it was from the coach because she always called us her “Little Birdies”. The school’s mascot was a Raven. Coach thought it was cute, she thought it was cuter when we usually tweeted at her in response. It didn’t take me long to read what the coach had to say. At the end I found myself thinking the same thing that Janey put to words only a second or two before.
Shit.
“They can’t be serious,” I said, flabbergasted at what I’d just read.
“What’s up?’ asked Tiff, who was struggling to read past the gaggle of girls in front of her.
“Effective immediately” I read aloud. “Girls Soccer is canceled. I’m sorry my Little Birdies, Coach Ross”
There were groans from the girls who apparently didn’t get to read it yet.
Tiff cursed.
My mind was still going through the process. How in the hell could those bastards do this to us? I know it wasn’t the coach. She didn’t really have say in the politics behind it. She was young, barely older than Tracy. This was her first year here. Well, they actually brought her in over the summer to do summer school gym class. She met most of us over the summer during the first tryouts. She was here on a trial basis.
"I’m going to go talk to Coach to get to the bottom of this,” I said, making up my mind.
The notice was pretty cryptic.
There had to be more to it.
As I started away from the gym down the hall, I noticed I wasn’t alone. Tiff fell into step beside me then Janey. I heard the footfall of the others too. Solidarity. I felt a little proud about that. We didn’t have a team captain anymore. She was one of the girls who fell off the float. Our team was aimless and leaderless but if willing, I was going to fill that void at the moment. No one seemed to be objecting to it either.
The gym coaches had their offices down the hall from the gym.
We’d all been to Coach Ross’ a few times.
I stopped in front of her door, taking a deep breath.
“You got this, Jess,” said Tiff, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I knocked on the door. The muffled voice of the coach told me to enter.
The others stayed behind.
Opening the door, I found the coach at her desk. Like I said she was only a few years older than my sister so maybe twenty-five or so. She was wearing a track suit in the school colors of silver and blue, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her laptop was open in front of her but as soon as she looked up, we locked eyes. She sighed so she knew why I was there.
“Flynn, don’t start,” she said, exasperated.
"I don’t get it,” I said, dropping into the chair in front of the desk.
"I’ve been arguing with the Board and the Athletics director all morning and afternoon over it”
Well, at least she was fighting it.
“So what happened?”
“Molly,” said the coach with a sigh. "Her break was a little more severe than earlier thought, her parents are suing”
Oh shit.
Molly Wright was one of the strikers. A damn good one too. I’d heard what happened and I could only imagine how much pain she was in. She was near the back of the float, leaning against the rail when it gave way. She toppled backward off of it, both the rail and John Cooper landed on her. The wooden beam and the combined weight of Coop, I could only imagine.
“Her folks are on the warpath. Molly’s leg was fractured in several places. So they’re suing the school and the Coopers. The Board had a meeting and decided girls soccer was more of a liability to them. They canceled it last night, dropped the ball on me this morning.”
Damn them.
“What about the boys?”
Coach gave an “are you kidding” look. Yeah, I thought as much.
“The boys are state champions. They fill seats, they make money. Add this to the whole Hope Solo thing and Team US not getting gold over the summer and you can see how much the Board is interested in girls soccer”
I groaned.
Hope Solo was gonna tarnish girls’ soccer for a while after that.
Stupid bitch.
I used to have her poster on my wall.
Emphasis on the “used” to.
“Can we fight it?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. They seem pretty made up about it, though. There will be an official inquiry into it but it doesn’t sound promising.” She sighed and stood up, walking around the desk. “I’m sorry it came to this. I was really looking forward to taking this team to the top”
I stood to face her and she gave me a hug.
She apologized again as I left her office. Tiff was the only one waiting for me. So much for solidarity after all. Coach hugged and apologized to Tiff as well. Then she went back into the office, leaving us alone.
"Well?" asked Tiff as I sighed heavily.
“Stupid Molly’s parents sued the school”
"That sucks”
“It gets worse,” I said, starting down the hall. “The board got their panties in a twist and said girls soccer wasn’t worth the trouble so they canned it. But the boys…this is bullshit!”
Tiff was silent for a moment then spoke up.
“Why don’t we try out for the boy’s team then?”
“What?”
She was pointing to one of the bulletin boards on the wall. There were a bunch of different notices and fliers on there. One of them was a flyer for boys soccer tryouts.
“It's not unheard of you know” continued Tiff “I mean girls play on boys’ teams all the time right?”
It wasn’t unheard of but I knew Coach McGuire. He was a bit of a hard ass. One of the chauvinistic pigs who thought women should be in the kitchen and not on the field. I’d had a few run-ins with him before. He used to coach intramural soccer for younger kids. He raised quite a stink when there were a few girls on the team. But because the teams were mixed, he ended up losing his job. I mean it was community run and him being there was on their dime. He took it to the City Council and everything. I can’t even figure out how a dickhead like him got to coach the boys’ team.
I guess it just goes to show who you know.
The question was, had the coach mellowed in age?
“C’mon,” said Tiff, jangling her keys in my face. “Let’s get out of here”
I nodded.
I’d figure something out and call her later.
We lived in a cul-de-sac, the center house with two houses on either side of us. All the houses in the development were large and McMansionish. I’m sure you’d seen the like before. Thankfully we all had huge yards and lots of space between us. I’m not sure what my Dad was thinking, to be honest. There was nothing wrong with Pine Crest Acres I suppose but every house looking the same was pretty tacky. It didn’t help that we were living near a bunch of dweebs. Thankfully for me, Tiff lived nearby or else I would have run away from home a long time ago.
Pulling up to the house in Tiff’s teal blue Versa, I couldn’t help but groan when I saw the white van parked out front.
Great, the Moron Squad was here.
Tiff made a face when she saw the van too.
“You want me to stay?”
I was about to say yes when I noticed the motorcycle. Shit. Looks like Mom had a visitor too? Maybe it was Brian again? I looked over at Tiff and I couldn’t let her there if Brian was there. She’d freak more than I did. Ok so to be fair I didn’t freak as much as Jordan said I did. But it was Brian Vogel.
“No Tiff. I don’t want you to catch whatever they’re carrying”
I climbed out of the car.
“I’ll text you later about tomorrow,” I said, closing the door.
I waved as she drove off. As soon as she was out of sight, I bolted for the house. As soon as I got inside, I shouted for Mom. Then I noticed the studio light on. Jordan and the Dweebs were probably downstairs playing their “music”. If you even wanted to call it that. Basically, the three of them sat around jamming, cobbling together noise that they claimed was music. Ok, so it pains me to admit that my brother was good. Not quite on par with Tracy but he was still pretty good. It still pissed me off that he was better than me, though. Well, it was for losers anyway so what did I care?
“Honey why must you always shout?” said my mother as she came down the stairs.
Mom was in her late forties but didn’t look a day over forty. She had long auburn hair like me and Jordan. Unlike ours, though, hers was streaked with gray. It was the only thing that showed her age, though. Mom took really good care of herself. She jogged every morning, drank healthy smoothies every day and went to the gym at least three times a week. Because of all that, she looked much younger. To be fair, though, Dad was in pretty good shape too. It was hard to believe both of them were almost fifty.
My parents had Tracy about a year or two out of college. I don’t think they were ever expecting to have other children, to be honest. Not that they didn’t want me and Jordan but I think we surprised them. Tracy was six years older than us. I think she was the only one who was thrilled by the prospect of having younger siblings. She was in her senior year at State now, pre-med. She was going to follow in Dad’s footsteps.
I thought about doing the same though I think I want to try sports medicine.
“I’m sorry Mom,” I said, following her into the kitchen.
I noticed two empty mugs at the table.
“It's not Brian,” mom said as I stared at one of the mugs.
“What?”
‘The motorcycle” Mom said, clearing the table. “I know you were itching to ask about it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
She laughed. “Well if you must know, it’s a singer for your brother’s band”
I scoffed. “So another Dweeb for the Dweebs”
“I wish you wouldn’t call you brother a dweeb. You two used to be so close once”
“Yeah when we were five”
Ok so not quite. Jordan and I started to drift apart in middle school actually. I’d be lying if I said it was all him. We just lost interest in one another. He started his music thing and I naturally rolled into sports. It’s not like I didn’t try to get him interested. I dragged him to a bunch of tryouts and things. Dad tried too. Jordan was just never really interested. No offense to my brother but he’s always been a bit of a Momma’s Boy. It didn’t help that Mom was always there pushing him too. Ok so Jordan did have talent, hell a lot of talent. When he opened his mouth, it was like angels were flying out of it. It was this amazing voice. It was just too bad that he sounded more like Taylor Swift than Trent Reznor.
Mom put a plate of cookies on the table. Not homemade but I didn’t care.
I dug into them.
“How did tryouts go?”
“They didn’t,” I said, a mouthful of cookie.
“Honey, chew”
I swallowed. “They canned the team Mom”
“What?”
I nodded. “Stupid Molly. She apparently really broke her leg, like really bad broke it. Her parents sued. The Board freaked so they canceled girls’ soccer”
“Poor Molly” Mom said sadly.
I scoffed. “What about me?”
“Poor you too,” Mom said sarcastically, giving me a half hug.
Whatever.
Mom was such a parent sometimes.
I had eaten a few more cookies and was halfway through eating another when I heard the commotion on the stairs. Great here comes the Dweeb Squad. Steve and Craig were up the stairs first. Steve made a play for my cookies but I swiped them away. Nice try lardo. A moment later, I heard a girl laughing. Followed quickly after by her and my brother coming up the stairs. Holy shit. This girl she was…what the hell was she doing with them. Her boobs were bigger than my head and her outfit! did she paint it on? She and my brother were laughing too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard him laugh.
When they got up the stairs, the girl stopped and stared at me.
“Holy shit, you’re a clone!”
Ha ha.
Bitch.
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Jess, this is Torrie. Torrie, that’s Jess.”
“Hey,” I said, still holding my half eaten cookie.
“Oh, JC, your brother is cute”
Brother as if.
Jordan and the guys laughed.
“I’m his sister,” I said, pissed.
“Oh,” she said, slightly embarrassed. “Well girl, you really need to moisturize”
I felt like giving the skank the finger. Instead, I just finished eating my cookie.
“Well JC, I gotta jet. Call me and we’ll hash out details” she gave my brother a hug then kissed him on the cheek.
Where the hell does she get off calling him J.C.?
That’s a family nickname.
I was totally flabbergasted that someone like that would be friends with my brother. What’s worse, before she left the kitchen, the bitch totally ganked one of my cookies. I almost decked Trailer Trash Barbie but she bolted before I could react. I was still sitting there with my mouth open when I heard the revving of her motorcycle.
“Dude she totally burned you,” said Steve with a laugh.
“Fuck off fatty!”
“Jessica Diane Flynn!”
Shit, I forgot Mom was still here.
“Sorry Mom,” I said then grumbled. “Stupid skank. I’m gonna bust her in the mouth the next time I see her”
“She’s right you know honey,” said Mom with a sympathetic look. “You really should moisturize more”
I groaned, slammed the plate on the table and stormed out of the kitchen.
Stupid Bitch, stupid Dweebs, stupid Mom.
I went into my bedroom and slammed the door.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
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Author's Note:Its that time again everyone, Monday and a new chapter. We're back to Jordan again. We get to meet one of the main characters of this tale in this chapter---Tara. She's an interesting person because of the strides she makes to get things in motion. You'll see what I mean a little bit later. There's a few other characters introduced in this chapter as well, one of which will make more appearances. The story sorta pushes ahead slowly at this point. Lingering on the first day---Friday---and the Saturday that follows for a few chapters. I might tweak it a bit because it feels like a lot going on in a two days. I'll figure it out when I get to posting the next few chapters lol. I'd like to thank ashleigh for all the editing and proof reading help, also wish her a fast recovery because she's currently in the hospital.
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3.
Jordan
Jess slamming the door was like a thunder clap.
Mom stood there staring at us for a few seconds before sighing and saying, “I have to go up there and take care of that don’t I?”
“You want me…”
‘No, it’s my job” she said with a groan then mumbled as she walked away. “Why couldn’t your father be home…”
As soon as Mom was gone, my friends broke out into laughter. I couldn’t help but smirk a bit too. Then I found myself laughing a bit too. Jess was always a bit of a drama queen. She was also used to being the center of attention. I could only imagine what went through her head when she saw Torrie. Not only that but when Torrie thought she was my twin brother, God that was priceless. Very few people were able to take Jess down a peg but Torrie did it like a master. The greatest thing about it all was that Torrie didn’t even realize she was doing it.
We didn’t sit around to wait for Mom to come back.
We had a few things to discuss so I led them to my room.
Ok, so quick rundown of things.
This house had a total of six bedrooms. The master bedroom, my bedroom, and Jess’s bedroom were all on the second floor. Then there was two spare rooms downstairs. The guest bathroom was downstairs too. The main bathroom was upstairs along with two ensuites, one connected to the master and the other connected to Jess’s room. I didn’t really care about having my own bathroom to be honest. My bedroom was bigger though because it was over the two car garage. Plus it had the little door leading to the attic. When I was ten, Dad had the attic converted into a hang out room for me and the guys.
I know what you’re thinking. I said this house had six bedrooms.
Ok, so the sixth wasn’t actually in the house.
Dad had this fascination with classic cars. So about a year or two ago, he built a detached garage to store them. He currently had two in there with his others at an offsite storage garage. When the car garage was built so too was the studio apartment above it. The apartment was where Tracy stayed when she was here during the holidays. It was a pretty epic space. It had its own bathroom and direct access to the large in-ground pool in our backyard. Jess had been extremely pissed when the folks built the place for Tracy. My sister was at that teenage girl phase of her life where she wanted her total independence. She tried convincing Dad to let her live out there when Tracy wasn’t but Dad didn’t go for it. He said and I quote, “there is no way that I’m letting my teen daughter live alone and away from adult supervision”. I think it was the first and only time Dad ever told her no.
Jess liked to call me a Momma’s Boy.
Well, she was definitely a Daddy’s Girl.
“You know,” said Steve as we walked into my room. “If your sister would just pull that stick out of her ass, she might be hot”
Craig and I rolled our eyes.
“How long have you been crushing on her again?” asked Craig, dropping himself into my computer chair.
Steve flushed a few different shades of red.
Craig and I had a laugh at his expense.
Steve got Craig back a second later, though. “Well at least the girl I’m crushing on is real!”
“Fuck off” snapped Craig, throwing one of my magazine’s at him. “She is real!”
This time Steve and I laughed at Craig.
That’s when the two of them started in on their “No she isn’t” and “Yes she is” back and forth argument. Seriously, you’d think we were all still in elementary school. I let them argue. I took my laptop off the computer desk and plopped down on my bed. Logging in, I checked my email. Most of it was crap. There were a few things of interest, though. I was on a mailing list for the local bookstore, telling me when new manga came in. I was also a member of this site that sold and traded guitars. I got an email from both, the bookstore one was promising, the guitar one not so much. The most promising email though was from Tara.
Tara was coming home. She’d be here until after Halloween.
Which was epic.
Tara was the missing member of our motley little crew. Up until last year, that is. Unlike me, she never stopped the whole singing thing. Mom knew the kind of talent she had and didn’t let up until Tara agreed to sign with her. Mom wasn’t one to sign country singers but Tara had one of those voices that could not only fit country but other songs as well. Tara topped the charts with her first solo, “Love Me”. A CD quickly followed and it didn’t take long for her to go on tour. She’s been on tour for the last two months or so. The tour it seemed was now over and she just got back home last night.
“Tara’s home,” I said excitedly.
“Oh yippy!” said Craig, sarcastically, clapping his hands like a moron.
Neither Steve nor Craig seemed to get along with her very well. I mean we all used to be as thick as thieves but after Tara made it big, well they got a bit jealous. Not that they’d admit it of course. I think they were just a little bit annoyed that Mom didn’t see much potential in us as a band. Don’t get me wrong, we were pretty smashing. But without a singer, we were just a sound. Mom tried to get us some paying studio gigs, laying background music, that kind of thing. The guys didn’t want it, though. They wanted the whole package deal. Like me, they tried to talk Tara into singing with us but it wasn’t really her thing.
So lots of resentment toward her.
A moment later, I got a text.
HEY JACY, DITCH THE ENTOURAGE AND COME HANG WITH ME.
It was from her.
And yes, she really calls me Jacy.
It originally started as a joke. My older sister and I have always been really close. Well everyone in my family already calls me “J.C.” of course. Tara just took things one step further. She used to call us “Tracy and Jacy”. Just for laughs of course. Tracy thought it was funny, me not so much. Well regardless of what I thought, the name seemed to stick with Tara.
I texted her back quickly.
SURE, JUST GIVE ME A FEW, T-BONE :P.
My T-Bone nickname for her, well that was just to piss her off.
“Hey guys,” I said, after sending the text. “Go away now”
Steve and Craig groaned.
“Let me guess, Little Miss Country Music Princess has beckoned you?”
“Man you’re so whipped!”
All three of us laughed.
“Seriously, though, leave now”
They rolled their eyes and groaned. I followed them down the hall and down the stairs. When we got to the living room, Jess was moping on the couch. She glared at all three of us but we, of course, ignored her. It’s not our fault that Torrie owned her. She’d get over it. I walked them to the door and practically pushed them out of it. They knew I was only joking around with them though because they laughed when I did it. As soon as they were gone, I turned and made a beeline for the stairs then stopped to talk to Jess.
“Hey Tara and I are going out, wanna come along?”
Ok, so I was being nice.
She gave me this look.
“Hmmm, Mets game or third wheel?” she said, making a mock scale with her two hands. “Yeah, I’m not going to watch you crash and burn all night”
“Instead, you’re gonna watch the Mets do that,” I said with a laugh.
She threw one of the throw pillows at me.
I laughed as I dodged it and ran up the stairs.
Dad was coming in as I was going out. I nearly collided with him going out the door.
“What’s the rush, sport?”
God, I hated that. Dad always called me stupid names like that. “Sport”, “Buddy”, Champ”. Gag me with a spoon. Not that I didn’t love my father or anything, I did. He was a great father. Better than Steve’s dad that’s for sure. Dad always went out of his way to make sure we had our own space but at the same time was there if we needed him. It’s just, well, he was a baseball player, and he had this way about him. He was the kind of father who wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, you know the “ole chip off the old block”.
That was never me. Dad tried but he knew it wasn’t either.
I think it hurt the hell out of him too.
To be fair, though, he was trying to be the best father he could be. My grandfather wasn’t much of one and Dad’s grandpa, well he wasn’t really around much either. Dad was practically raised by his uncle. Uncle Ben was the best but he was that kind of guy---my Dad’s kind of guy.
“Tara’s home,” I said in a rush. “I’m gonna go hang out with her a bit”
Dad gave me a look. It was the look.
Mom knew we were just friends. But to Dad, a boy and girl couldn’t just be friends.
“Does your mother know?”
I nodded. “I asked, she told me to be home before ten”
“Ok then, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said with a chuckle.
I rolled my eyes as I headed out the door.
When Jess and I turned sixteen a few months ago, Dad had already bought us a car. I said a car because he only bought one. Jess and I were meant to share it. It was a metallic blue 2016 Ford Focus. It was ok if you liked that kind of thing. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the kind of thing we were hoping for, though. Dad knew that too but he also knew that there was no way he could afford my sister’s corvette or my mustang. Well, he could but he refused too. He also only got us the one car because he wanted us to work on our sharing skills. Everything was a lesson to Dad. If we wanted our fancy cars, we were to go out and get jobs and get them ourselves.
So Jess and I came up with a system. Well, one that fell into the rules that my father already laid out. She and I rotated the car on weekends. If however one of us got a job then the one with the job got priority. If both of us got a job---unlikely because Jess is a lazy slob---we were to alternate usage like on the weekends then give the other a ride to and from work. Those were the rules of sharing. The rules of the car itself were a little tighter. Neither one of us could drive it after eight at night, we weren’t allowed to let others drive it and we couldn’t drive it to school. Dad’s nurse Brenda was married to a police officer and the stories he could tell about stupid kids and their cars, especially related to school.
I pulled out my cell, texting Tara to tell her I was on my way.
Oh yeah, big rule: no cells while driving.
That one, of course, was a no-brainer.
She sent me a reply, asking to pick her up, shooting me the address.
Yes, I know where my best friend lives but as of a year ago, it used to be a trailer park.
Tara and her Mom were from Kentucky. She moved up here when she was eight, after a really messy divorce. Her mom was a beautician. Up until a year ago, she made ends meet at a little salon on Main Street. Then Tara got her recording contract. Now Tara’s mother owns the place. I did say Tara was a pretty famous country singer right? In fact, she was nominated for several Best New Artist awards. She hit it big. With the money she started to make, she was able to move her mother out of the trailer and into a nice three bedroom house a couple of blocks from my own. Not quite Pine Crest Acres but still pretty nice.
It only took me about five minutes to get to Tara’s.
Tara was sitting on the porch swing waiting as I pulled up.
There was a look of confusion on her face before she recognized me.
I had one seeing her too.
Sure I’d been seeing her for the last year or so but seeing and believing were two different things. The girl coming toward my car was not the same one that I grew up with. Sure she was the same of course but she looked completely different. When Tara left home, she was a slightly overweight girl with glasses and muddy brown hair. The girl walking toward the car was none of these things. Sublime Records---her label---had done a complete makeover on her. First gone were the glasses and brown hair, in their place sparkling green eyes and long flowing auburn locks. She’d lost a great deal of weight too, maybe thirty pounds or more. She’d clearly had a fashion consultant as well because the skinny jeans, cowboy boots and tank top was not her usual style.
It was definitely a nice change.
It was a recent one too.
Of course, I’d been watching her interviews on TV and she did have a music video but the Tara in those was not the Tara I saw before me. I couldn’t help but smile at the Tara that I was seeing now. She was practically glowing, the confidence oozing off of her. This was the friend that I always knew was hiding inside of her.
“Look at the shiny wheels,” she said, a hint of her Kentucky twang coming through.
When Tara moved here her accent was pretty thick. The kids used to harass her nonstop over it. As time went on, though, the accent started to fade away. By the time we got into middle school it was all but gone. Sure growing up here for the last several years helped but Tara always told me she could turn it on and off at will. I mean her mother never lost her accent after all. Apparently being a country star now meant that the accent was back.
“Look at the Shiny Tara,” I said as she climbed inside.
She gave me a big hug.
“Forget about me, look at you,” she said, running her fingers through my hair. “Still silky smooth like I remember. You haven’t cut it either”
I blushed. Tara always loved my hair. She once told me it was my best feature. We spent many a day in her room, her brushing it and styling it in a bunch of different ways. She didn’t really have any girl friends growing up. Most of the girls didn’t want to associate with the hefty country girl. So I tried my hardest to be the best boy and girl friend that she could have. I’m not ashamed to say that I let her braid my hair often nor that I’d worn makeup many times. It’s just the kind of friendship we used to have.
“So where too?”
“I thought maybe we’d pop into Leo’s for a bite then grab a movie or something if you want?”
I nodded. “As long as we can get it done before eight. Dad doesn’t like me driving beyond that”
Tara looked at her watch. It was going on five now.
“Well, maybe just Leo’s then?”
Leo’s was the local teen hangout. It had the best pizza in the world as far as I was concerned. It helped that the owner loved Tara. She was the only thing he talked about. In fact, there was one wall of the restaurant devoted to her. It was kinda surreal actually. Leo seemed to collect every scrap of paper and every article that she was mentioned in. I called it Tara’s Wall of Shame. She and I often had a few good laughs about it on Skype. This would be the first time she was gonna see it in person though so I think she was kinda excited.
“So,” I said as we drove. “How goes the whole country singer thing?”
“Eh,” she said, shrugging it off. “It's just a hobby”
We laughed.
“So how goes your music?”
“Mom found us a singer!” I said rather excitedly. “She’s really good, has this Avril sound thing going on”
“That’s great” she said just as excitedly. “I’d hug you but I don’t want us to do a Paul Walker or something”
Harsh but true. That was Tara’s sense of humor by the way. She didn’t mean anything by it. She was always a bit on the morbid side, though. In another life, I knew she could have been one of those morbid, “life is worthless” emo kids.
Tara’s humor masked other things though too. I knew her well enough to know what she was really thinking. Like my mother, she’d been pissed I quit singing. Singing used to be my life after all. It was definitely Tara’s. The two of us used to spend hours in her bedroom singing along to Taylor, Katy, and a few others. It used to consume us. Things change, though. When I just up and quit, Tara actually cried. We had a huge fight over it and she told me she was never going to talk to me again. Well the “not talking to me” lasted for about a week. She came back---crying again---and apologized. She still told me I was being an idiot but I was her best friend and she’d support my decision.
That’s when I started pushing her, though.
Tara’s singing career actually started when we were fourteen.
With pressure from both Mom and I, we got her to sing in this little talent contest the school was putting on. When Mom saw the reaction people had, she knew the potential. She signed Tara and got the ball rolling. Last year, Mom made some arrangements with Sublime records, Tara’s current label. Sublime handled more country acts, something Mom wasn’t really keen on. She loved Tara but also knew there was nothing more she could do for her. Tara signed a one-year contract with Sublime. They put her on the fast track. It didn’t take long for her to record her first single and hit the airwaves. In a week, Tara took the nation by storm.In the months that followed, she filmed her first video, did another single, a CD then hit the road on tour. The tour had finished its first leg a few nights ago.
“So what’s next then?” I asked as we pulled onto Main Street.
She shrugged. “I don’t have to be back in the studio until December. The tour doesn’t pick back up until March. The label has me doing some CD signings and things, you know the promotional crap but I made it clear that I wanted to spend my off time here”
“So school?”
“You betcha,” she said with glee. “No more tutors for a bit. I can’t wait”
‘You might want to drop the twang” I said, playfully mocking her accent.
She gave me a fake look of disgust. “Whatever do you mean, Rhett?”
Her Scarlett was spot on.
We both laughed.
We pulled up to the pizza place to find it packed as usual. We also found a large bus with her face on it parked outside. I gave her a look, she laughed.
“The band is still in town for a few,” she said “I guess they took me up on my offer of free food”
When I pulled up alongside it, I noticed a few photogs hanging about as well. Tara groaned, clearly noticing them as well. We both knew this was going to happen. She and I discussed it a great deal before she left actually. We both had pretty much the same opinion on the matter---we hated them. Tara though didn’t want to be one of those celebs. You know the kind of who punches them in the face or throws her cell at them. So we did a bunch of mock scenarios, me playing the paparazzi and her well herself. In the end, we decided it would be best if she was nice to them. You know stop to take a few photos, laugh at their jokes, become friends with them.
From what I could tell it seemed to work too.
The press was very kind to her.
So were they apparently.
As soon as we got out of the car, they were on us. They were really polite about it, though, surprisingly. They snapped a few pictures but didn’t push.
“Who’s your cute friend?” one of them asked, taking a few pics of both of us.
“This is my BFF, J.C,” she said, throwing her arms around me. “My best buddy in the whole wide world”
“Give us a big smile sweetheart,” one of them said, sticking the lens of his camera a little too close for comfort.
I tried to oblige him as best as I could.
I was a little annoyed at the “sweetheart” thing, though. Clearly like several other morons, this guy thought I was a girl.
They took a few more pics. Tara knew them all by name and seemed to know about them as well. She asked about their families, their friends. She even posed a bit for them. It was all really cool. Then she asked them to respect her privacy which they did and we went into the restaurant. True to their word, I watched as they got back into their cars and started to drive off.
Wow.
As soon as we walked into Leo’s, all eyes were on us.
I wanted to crawl into a hole.
Tara was, of course, used to it, I was not.
“Hello Dover Creek!’ she shouted, we caused a lot of people to laugh.
As soon as the initial shock was over, though, everyone went back to their food. Someone like Tara wasn’t that big of a draw around here. Partially because she was just Tara here but mostly because half the kids in here were worth more than both of us combined. That’s the perks of living in a town where one of the most prestigious private schools in the country was just down the street a ways. Looking around the crowded place, I saw some kids who had more than six figures to their name. You got used to it growing up here. Usually, there was a lot of contention between them and us but not in Leo’s.
He wouldn’t allow it.
His number one rule was “leave the attitude at the door or your face is on the floor”
Tara pointed to one of the larger booths in the corner.
I noticed it was already well occupied.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me over, waving as she did so.
“Guys this is J.C.,” she said as she made intros. “J.C., the guys”
The guys in question were actually a mixture of guys and girls. Six altogether. I was surprised so many of them fit in the booth. The girls---Angie, Cara, and Trix---were Tara’s backup singers. Angie was a brunette, Cara a blonde and Trix was Asian. Her dark hair streaked with purple. She looked like she could be fun. The guys were her band. Terry was the bassist, Mark was on drums and Chuck was the lead guitarist. I sized them up. They looked like a good bunch. Not all that different from me and my crew though a little less punk and more wholesome. I locked eyes with Chuck, sizing him up. Tall, dark haired and chiseled. He had that Clark Kent from Smallville look about him. Very homegrown and American. I felt a pang of jealousy looking at him, to be honest. Guys like him rubbed me the wrong way because they reminded me of what I lacked.
Chuck stared at me too I noticed.
They made room for us to sit.
Tara pushed in over with the girls, Chuck slid over as much as he could to make space for me. It bothered me that the small space he made was enough for me to sit.
I hated being so short and small. Ok so five seven wasn’t short by any means but when your father was six three and most of the guys around you were six feet or over, you start to get a complex. Chuck had to be at least that or more.
Leo came over a moment later. Though Italian, Leo was about as American as they came. In his forties and barrel-chested, he was the nicest guy around. He liked to ham up the Italian for his customers, though, putting on a big phony accent and all that. He marketed this place as an authentic Italian eatery, there were Italians flags and knickknacks all over the place. The seat cushions and curtains were red, green and white and on the walls were several framed photos of various places in Italy. Behind the counter, he had framed photos of family and friends.
Then there was the Tara wall, his pride, and joy.
‘My beautiful Principessa” he said, hamming it up for her friends.
He winked at her which all of them noticed but didn’t seem to care.
“Leo,” she said, standing up and giving him a big hug which of course the big man graciously returned.
They started talking to one another in Italian. This was a new one to me. Tara used to work here part time to make ends meet. To help her Mom and things. It’s one of the reasons that he had the wall devoted to her in the first place actually. That’s the kind of guy Leo was. I never knew she knew Italian though.
Tara sat down laughing a moment later.
“Can you get us a couple of larges?” she said, in English this time.
He nodded and left.
I gave her a look.
“I had some free time on my hands, thought I’d learn the language” she shrugged it all off like it was no big deal.
We all laughed.
Me, only because it felt like I should.
The others laughed because it seemed to fit.
These were her new friends, the ones she’d been spending most of the year with. At first, you could have called me jealous. Tara was my friend and I was up until last year, pretty much her only one. Now there were these others and plenty more too. I’d seen the news, the tabloids and of course facebook. Tara had this whole other life now. She had friends and she went places and did things. She did it all without me too. I hated all of it. I was happy for her of course but it felt like we were drifting apart too. Sure we talked almost every night but she had changed so much too.
Even now as she laughed with these people---sharing in jokes and funny stories---I couldn’t help but feel a tad left out.
“You’re not like her,” said a voice and I realized Chuck was talking to me.
‘What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Tara is so outspoken, confident and a people person, you’re…”
I interrupted him. “She wasn’t always like that. She was a lot like me once. People change”
‘I’m not saying it’s a bad thing” he said with a smile. “It's nice actually. You being the way you are I mean. It’s refreshing. Most people in my line of work, they’re different”
I didn’t like where this conversation was going. I already didn’t like the way he was looking at me. It creeped me out. I needed to change the subject and fast.
“So what kind of guitar do you play?”
It was the right change of topic. Chuck it seemed liked to talk about guitars. I think I surprised him though when I not only knew what he was talking about but started talking about mine as well. I didn’t feel so left out anymore. We talked for quite a while about them actually. We talked through the arrival of pizza and in the eating of said pizza. Chuck was a pretty cool guy when he wasn’t trying to put the moves on me. He knew the things I was talking about too. It was kind of nice to talk mano y mano with another guitar player. Craig knew guitars too but our conversations always turned into how the bass guitar was better. Chuck just talked.
It was pretty cool.
“Sorry are you a singer too?’
“No,” I said, brushing some of my hair behind my ear.
“Bull shit,” said Tara.
I didn’t even realize she’d been listening.
“Ok so maybe I was once but only a little”
“You little liar,” said Tara with a laugh. “J.C. is a bitching singer. That’s how we met actually. In a music lesson. Jay rocks it."
I blushed.
Leo chose that time to return with the check and the discussion was thankfully dropped.
Tara insisted on paying for everything. None of us complained. Then she surprised Leo by insisting on paying for the food of everyone in the place. She told him to keep it a secret and just tell people that food was on the house. It was pretty awesome and generous of her. Even more so because half the people in here were our classmates and most of them used to hate her. The feeling was mutual from her end too. Tara though was that kind of person.
As soon as she finished paying, we called it a night.
It was going on seven thirty now. I was pretty shocked because I didn’t realize we’d been here for almost three hours.
Time flies I guess.
“How long are you guys staying in town for?” asked Tara as we were saying goodbye to Chuck and company.
“A few days maybe. Why?” asked Angie.
“Well, there’s this cool little teen club here in town. Tomorrow night they do this thing, I was wondering if you guys wanted to meet us there?”
The girls were game. So was Chuck. The other guys not so much.
They were overruled, though.
I was a little overruled myself actually. The club was called The Grasshopper. It was fairly new. It was made for the St. Andrew kids, though. Sure townies went there but the place was geared toward a richer clientele. Because it was a teen club though they weren’t allowed to serve alcohol so that was a plus I suppose. Tara it seemed was keen on going. It was built while she was away and she’d been dying to check it out. She wanted to make a big night of it too. She’d already called my cousin Cherry. Cherry and her roommate Dee were game. So were a few of her school friends.
I was being dragged along because reasons I guess.
“I’m sorry,” she said when we were halfway to her house.
“About what?”
“You were uncomfortable. I just wanted everyone to meet. I talk about you a lot and well, I wanted them to meet this awesome amazing person who I’ve known for all my life”
“I had fun,” I said and sorta meant it.
“No you didn’t,” she said with a laugh.
Ok, she had me there.
‘It was different. I’m not used to all that many people”
She nodded. We drove the rest of the way to her house in silence. She was thinking about something, I could tell. I could see it on her face. I knew her well enough to know when something was on her mind.
She didn’t open her mouth again until we were in front of her house.
“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked, playing the friend.
She always could tell when something was bothering me.
“It's nothing”
“You’re lying,” she said, I nodded. “We’ve known each other for a while now. I know when you’re not telling me everything but I’m not going to pry. We don’t have that kind of relationship”
She wasn’t the prying friend. I respected and loved that about her too.
She was concerned for me, though. I loved that about her as well.
“It's nothing big, just something I’m dealing with”
She nodded and we hugged. I said good night. We made arrangements to meet for lunch before hanging out later tomorrow night. I stayed out in front of the house until she was safely inside. Then I drove the rest of the way home. I got there just in time too. Dad was sitting on the couch, waiting. He smiled when I walked through the front door. I dropped my keys on the table next to the door and retired to my room. I had some homework I wanted to get out of the way. I would have done it tomorrow but seeing as Tara was preoccupying my Saturday with her crazy plans, tonight was as good as any to do it.
Before starting, though, I made sure to lock my door.
With it locked, I took off my coat and stripped off my shirt. The itching had been driving me crazy all night. I turned to the mirror, naked down to my waist. Hanging on my chest, for the whole world not to see, were my two foreign bodies.
My breasts.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
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Author's Note:Sorry for the late posting of this chapter. Today was rainy and gloomy and it was making me lazy lol. I was dragging my feet getting this chapter ready to post lol. This is another Jess chapter.
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4.
Jess
The sound of a large belch woke me up. A few seconds later it was followed by another belch. The belching kept coming over and over again. Groaning, I rolled over and slapped at the alarm clock, sending it clattering to the floor. What monster sets an alarm for Saturday morning? Sitting up, the belching still going on, I rubbed my eyes. Right, I’m the monster. I reached down and shut the infernal thing off, putting it back on the bedside table where it belonged. The clock was a gift from my parents. They wanted the sound to be something offensive so I would be repulsed and spring out of bed to shut it off. It worked for a few days before my body acclimated to it.
Now I found it almost peaceful.
Yeah, my parents totally didn’t get me.
I rubbed more sleep out of my eyes, as I stumbled through my room to the bathroom. Half in a stupor, I remembered why I set the alarm in the first place. I needed to get up and get ready for tryouts. It was eight am now, that gave me enough time to shower, eat and get out to the school before anyone else. It was also hopefully enough time to sneak into Jordan’s room, grab some of his workout clothes and get out before he noticed. Oh right, the plan. Well, it was pretty simple really. If Coach McGuire saw me as even partially boy then I might have a chance. I knew it was a long shot but I couldn’t just give up now.
It wasn’t fair.
The stupid school board and their fucking double standards.
The school made the cheap float. Coop was the one who fell on Molly too.
The school should own up and accept responsibility.
So why did we other girls have to suffer because of it?
Thinking about it wasn’t going to get anything done. We needed action, not thoughts. So I was acting. If anything my little stunt today would prove to these people the lengths we girls are willing to go to do what they want. I wanted to play soccer. If that meant humiliating myself in front of a bunch of boys to do so then so be it. I was willing to take one for womankind if it meant sticking it to the school and showing them how stupid they truly were.
But first a shower.
Things were a bit different when Tracy used to live with us. First of all this room used to belong to her. Right before she went off to college, though, Dad had the detached garage built for his car collection. Well, the ones he liked to keep close by anyway. With that garage came the apartment above it. I won’t lie, I was a little peeved when she got her own place. I mean Tracy was barely home as it is anymore. It wasn’t fair that she got her own place while I had to live under the same roof with my parents and the dweeb. What’s worse, now she was going to be home even less. Tracy met this guy---Paul---about a year ago and things were getting pretty serious. He was a pianist I guess. My parents suspected him to propose any day now.
And yet, the apartment is still hers.
How fair was that?
Ok, so I lost my train of thought?
Oh yeah, the room.
Well after Tracy moved out, I got her room. Before Jordan and I used to have our rooms downstairs. Now they’re guest rooms. When Tracy moved, I got her room and Jordan got to move into the bigger room down the hall. There were only two ensuites in the house. The one attached to this room and the one with my parents’ room. Dad wanted me to have my own room because I was a girl and I needed my privacy. To compensate he let Jordan have the bigger room with the attic access. Then he went and converted that attic space into this cool rec room for Jordan and the other dweebs. Once again I got the short end of the stick.
Thinking about it just pissed me off more.
So time to distract myself.
Walking into my little bathroom, I took care of the morning business first. Had a pee, brushed my teeth. Looking into the mirror, I saw the girl staring back at me. Ok the girl was me but I was hard pressed to see it. I’d been feeling kinda funny about it lately. Sure I saw my reflection every day in the mirror but something about it just didn’t feel right. I’d been feeling kinda off since puberty actually. It didn’t help that I had to take these stupid pills either. There was nothing more embarrassing than having to take hormones.
You see Jordan and I were very late bloomers.
Puberty is supposed to start at a certain stage in a young person’s life. For girls its earlier, for boys its mid-teens. Unfortunately for me and my brother, it never came. My father---putting on his doctor’s hat---took us to a variety of specialists to discern the problem. It turned out that both of us had very low counts. So to counteract the problem, we were given hormone treatments to help kick start things. Due to the nature of our condition, we were given a larger than normal dose of the stuff. It worked too, at least for a time.
I started to notice something wrong about eight months ago.
Most of the girls my age had figures. Me, I was pretty boyish looking still. My boobs were barely there and my hips, well let’s just say that I had no shape and leave it at that. That wasn’t all either. I was starting to grow hair in places that girls shouldn’t have hair and it was thicker too. My voice sounded different too. I was hungry a lot as well. I’ve always had a bit of an appetite of course. But being an athlete I’ve been able to burn it off pretty quickly with vigorous exercise. Lately, though, I’ve been eating like a horse. I was really irritable for no reason too. I know people thought I was a bitch and I didn’t really care about that. What I did care about was constantly feeling like I wanted to put my hand through a wall.
Take yesterday for instance.
That girl---Torrie---what she said shouldn’t have set me off like it did. I was really pissed off, though. I could have taken her head off. Then for Mom to make the same comment, I was furious. After storming up to my room, I calmed down and realized I was being stupid. Torrie and Mom were right too. I really did need to moisturize more. I needed to do more than that actually. My skin felt rough and oily and the zits, don’t even get me started. No amount of over the counter products seemed to help either. It was like I was at war with my body and my body was winning.
“Not today,” I said to my reflection.
I grabbed my pill bottle, shook a couple of the little greenish bastards into my hand and popped them quickly. I swallowed them without water. I grinned at my reflection then grabbed my other pills.
I decided to fight things my own way.
I found this site online that sold breast enhancement pills. I know what you’re thinking and you’re probably right but I have to try. I was getting sick and tired of wearing inserts and pushup bras. I started taking these supplements about four months ago and I was starting to see some results. I’m not sure who these MerTech people were but they sure sold good shit. Maybe in a couple more months, I could ditch the bras and booblets.
After taking my second set of pills, I gave the mirror the finger, stripped down and got into the shower.
“Mom, have you seen my practice clothes?”
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table in her dressing gown, a cup of coffee in her hand. Mom was the only one who got up this early on Saturday. I ignored the look of surprise on her face. I matched it with a hand on my hip and as stern a look as I could muster.
“Sweetie, what are you doing up this early?”
I made up a quick lie.
“Well just because there’s no soccer anymore doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. Tiff and I are going to the school to take advantage of Saturday Exercise”
It was something the school implemented a few years back. Every Saturday now, they opened up the school’s weight room and the gym for anyone who wanted to use it. Of course, they had to get permission beforehand and there had to be a teacher available. It was still a pretty cool thing. It was also a great cover. I didn’t exactly want to tell Mom the real reason I wanted my clothes. She’d never understand. My parents loved that I was so into sports, especially Dad. Dad also made it clear though that I wasn’t to go too overboard with it. He was afraid I might get too engrossed, put my entire life into it then be in the same situation he got himself into.
Thankfully he recovered from it but he didn’t want it to happen to me.
I knew what both of them would say about me wanting to play on the boys’ team.
I was being too obsessive.
The look Mom was giving me said it all, though.
“I’m sorry sweetie,” she said, setting down her mug. “They’re in the wash. I thought you were done with them for the week”
Damn her.
Ok, so it wasn’t her fault but still it was horrible timing.
“Just great. What am I supposed to do now!”
See what I mean. That came totally out of nowhere and I can’t stop it.
Mom gave me the “I don’t approve of your tone” look.
“Sorry Mom,” I said and meant it.
She nodded. Then smiled. “Why not just borrow your brother’s set, heaven knows he’s not going to care”
Dad had bought Jordan a set of workout clothes a while ago. Ok so they were just the usual t-shirt and running shorts but he got them from the sports store. Dad’s hope was that Jordan might take an interest in it. It was one of the Dad’s many attempts to try to connect with the dweeb. I told him it was a waste of time but that’s Dad for you. I don’t think he liked the idea that he and his son just weren’t on the same wavelength.
‘Thanks, Mom” I said cheerily then ran back up the stairs.
I tried his bedroom door first but it was locked. That was odd. Jordan never locked his door. Cursing, I went with plan B. Ok so the ensuite bathroom was all mine. Jordan wasn’t allowed to step foot in it, dad’s orders. The thing about it though was that it was actually a full bathroom, with two doors. One door led into my room and the other into his. So the bathroom actually connected our two rooms. Thankfully for me, he never even bothered with it. In fact, he used to have a bookshelf in front of it until Dad made him move it for fire reasons. Just in case of an emergency and all that crap.
True to my thinking, the door was unlocked.
I slipped silently into the dweeb’s room.
Jordan had a Dweeb’s room too.
Ok so that was harsh but it was hard not to see it. The walls were decorated with movie and game posters, there was a bookshelf crammed with all his dweeb books. His desk was littered with comic books and gamer magazines. He had shelves on the wall cluttered with action figures and crap like that. He had normal stuff too---bed, dresser, large flatscreen with game system. The odd things were the guitars. I could see at least two of them out. I know most of them he kept in the basement but he liked to come up here a lot and jam too.
The dweeb himself was on the bed, fast asleep.
I tiptoed inside, going to his dresser.
I had a pretty good idea where he kept the clothes. When my brother didn’t like something, he usually shoved it in his bottom drawer. There were years of bad Christmas sweaters, sports jersey’s, odd colored socks and other ugly clothes in there already. I found the workout clothes shoved way in the back, still in the plastic bag and with tags on them no less. I shook my head, wondering why Dad even bothered. We both knew how much athletic prowess Jordan had. Which was zero by the way.
What a dork!
I took the bag with me as I crept my way back to the bathroom. I stopped to take a look at him before leaving. My brother ceased to amaze me these days. Looking at him there---sound asleep on his stomach---you could see where people mistook him for a girl. His hair alone was enough to give people pause. Guys weren’t supposed to have silky smooth locks like that. His soft buttery skin, high cheek bones, and girly lashes didn’t help either. Don’t even get me started on those lips. What guy has lips like that? His body didn’t help things either. He was really slim and slender, with small hands and feet. He was half covered by his blanket but I knew what was underneath. There was very little muscle on that girlish frame of his and the way he moved. It was no wonder those guys beat the hell out of him after that chorus concert.
Ok, so I was really pissed about that, to be honest.
A bunch of fucking douche bags if you ask me.
I will say that I was a little surprised by his reaction to it all, though. I never actually expected him to quit singing. My brother and I might not have seen eye to eye on many things but his singing was something he was good at. I don’t care how much he was being harassed, he should have never given it up. That was the biggest difference between him and I. If there was something I loved, I would never let anyone tell me I couldn’t do it. No matter how much I was given shit for it. It was my thing and mine alone. Jordan didn’t have the backbone to stick up for himself and now he was miserable for it.
He was an idiot.
Thinking a little less about my brother, I slipped back into the bathroom and into my room shortly thereafter. I made sure the door on his side was securely shut. In fact, I made sure I’d never been there. I hoped I was stealthy enough in that regard. If there were any problems, I’m sure Mom would have my back. I mean they were clothes he wasn’t going to wear anyways.
Putting on his never worn clothes scared me a bit.
A girl was not supposed to fit into her brother’s clothes so well.
Standing there, looking in my floor length mirror, I couldn’t help but grimace.
Staring back at me was not Jessica.
It was J.D.
Ok, so a bit of confession time. When I was younger, I used to like to pretend to be a boy. I’m not really sure where it came from, to be honest. Before we got to kindergarten, Jordan was the only real playmate I had. He was a boy and we liked to do boy things together. Back then, he didn’t mind to throw the ball with Dad or rough house in the mud. It didn’t help that we both had short boy haircuts back then either. That’s actually where the nicknames J.D. and J.C. came from. Jordan’s middle name was Christopher. Mine was Diane. I’m not sure who first coined the names “J.D.’ and “J.C.” but for years that’s all we were.
Many people thought we were twin brothers.
No one actually corrected them either.
Mom and Dad always thought it was funny.
It helped that no one could really tell us apart back then either. We used to have a hell of a good time screwing with our family. We especially loved messing with our cousins, Cherry and Courtney. We would keep the charade going for hours with neither one of them knowing which one of us was which. Like they often say, though, all good things must come to an end.
In first grade, I met Tiffany. She was by far the girliest girl I’d ever met. For a long time, she thought I was a boy too. We actually shared our first kiss together. We could look back at it now and laugh but I remember her parents being pretty pissed at it when they caught us. My parents were called and all the parents had a long talk. My parents decided that they let the fun go on a little too long so things changed. Mom started buying me girlier clothes and she talked me into letting my hair grow longer. Tiff helped a lot too.
Things were good.
Then Jordan seemed to feel left out. It wasn’t before long that he started to grow his hair long too. By the time we were in second grade, his hair was just as long as mine. The confusion started all over again. We played the same games for a bit but it got old fast. Eventually, they stopped. Then Jordan started his singing lessons, met that hillbilly Tara and we drifted further apart. I can remember the exact moment of it too. We were standing for the bus, about to start fifth grade, when Jordan called me “J.D.” I remember it so vividly because he cried at my response:
“My name is Jess, not J.D. Get it through your thick skull, dummy”
Jordan actually ran home crying. Mom took him to school. I got a stern talking to afterward. I had to apologize for being a jerk even though I didn’t really understand what the problem was. Jordan got a talking to as well because he apologized too and never called me J.D. again.
It was the moment we stopped being friends.
“Hello again,” I said to my reflection, frowning a bit as I did so.
I stared at myself for a bit longer before heading out of the room and down the stairs.
“I’m taking the car,” I said as I grabbed the keys and went out the door.
I texted Tiff on the way out.
It was time for our A Game.
“Where are you?”
I was pulling into the school parking lot now. During the week when school was in session, you needed an authorized school permit to park here. I didn’t have one because Dad didn’t want us driving the car to school. On the weekends, though, no permit was required. The school’s facilities---weight room, pool, and gymnasium---were open to the public on the weekends. There were about ten cars in the lot when I got there. The only one I recognized was the one Coach McGuire drove. It was hard not to recognize the giant gas guzzling beast of a pickup he drove. Its most notable feature was the gun rack. When not teaching Gym class or coaching various boys’ sports teams, the coach was an avid deer hunting. Well, at least when it was in season.
Among the cars though was one I didn’t recognize.
Tiff’s.
When I pulled in and didn’t see, I figured she was right behind me.
“Mom caught me going out the door,” she said with a sigh.
‘You caved” I said with a heavy sigh.
Tiff’s lack of response said it all.
Last night we came up with a plan. The same one. We were both to tell our parents we were coming here for the weight room. Tiff it seemed cracked under pressure. It was nothing new for her. She was horrible at keeping secrets and even worse at lying.
“You didn’t tell her I was involved did you?”
“No, but you know Mom, she kinda figured it was your idea”
Shit.
It was only a matter of time before she called my mother.
I liked Tiff’s parents, they were awesome people. They were, however, some of the strictest parents I knew. They were also very conservative. I mean what parents freak out because their seven-year-old daughter kisses another girl? I mean we were seven, we didn’t know what we were doing. Of course at the time they thought their daughter was kissing a boy. They didn’t really freak until it was revealed I was a girl. They almost shipped poor Tiff off to a Catholic school the next town over. Thankfully my Dad was able to smooth things over with them. He also agreed that it would never happen again. It never did because well we were young and like I said purely innocent.
Her parents never really trusted me after that, though.
They didn’t even want to think it was their daughter’s idea. I was the tomboy who was trying to lead their baby astray. I still wasn’t allowed in Tiff’s room without the door being open. They did mellow some after my mother forced me to dress more like a girl, though. Mrs. Reynolds even complimented me on the change, especially when my hair started to get longer. Though to them, I was still the bad influence who was leading their daughter to Hell. Tiff joining the soccer team was my idea. Tiff wanting to get her ears pierced was apparently my idea too. Don’t even get me started about her dating. Last year, Ned Rogers asked Tiff to the Freshman dance. Being the good daughter she asked her parents for permission and not only did they flip out---she was too young---they actually blamed me.
I can only imagine Mrs. Reynolds reaction to her daughter sneaking off to join the boys’ soccer team.
Poor Tiff.
“So are you grounded?”
“Only for the weekend,” she said with a sigh. “Also, you’re grounded from the house for a month”
Nothing new there. After the Ned Incident, it was two months.
I loved Tiff to death but her parents were wackadoos.
“I’m sorry Jess”
“It’s ok,” I said and meant it too.
Hey, I’m not a bitch all the time. I knew she didn’t deliberately set out to get caught. It’s not my fault that Tiff had a weak constitution. Truthfully this was to my advantage. No offense to Tiff but she stuck out like a sore thumb. Unlike me, Mother Nature had been very kind to her. She was almost a C cup now and she had the curves to match. Her God fearing parents hated it of course but what could she do. Tiff inherited her mother’s figure and Mrs. Reynolds though a nut job was quite the looker. Before meeting her husband and finding God, Tiff’s Mom had been a bit of a wild child apparently. I know this because she and my mother used to go stomping about town together.
Though they were still friends, I don’t think Tiff’s mom ever really approved of my mother’s lifestyle.
I’d have to do this one without her.
“I’ll make the team for the both of us”
“Good luck”
I hung up after that, making sure to store my pink cell phone deep in my gym bag. Getting caught with a pink cell would be blood in the water to these guys. Especially to the very homophobe McGuire. To him being a girl was only a slight step up from being a “queer”. His words not mine. I had nothing wrong with it. Hell, my cousin and her girlfriend were awesome. The coach, on the other hand, was of that breed. You know that special kind of pond scum that stuck to everything and never seem to go away. How a man like him could even be in a position to teach youngsters was beyond me. Anything that was different was wrong to the Coach. He was that beer guzzling, gun waving, gay bashing asshole that everyone knew existed but pretended wasn’t really there. He gave the school championships and as long as he continued to do so, he still had a job. I was pretty certain that he somehow convinced the School Board that girls’ soccer wasn’t needed. He’d been trying to get rid of us for years because without us, his team would get the whole soccer budget.
Men like him made me sick.
I had no choice, though.
I wanted to play. I was born to play.
I made sure to walk as manly as I could toward the practice field. I wasn’t trying to fool anyone but I didn’t want to scream girl either. Tiff would have failed there too. McGuire would have taken one look at her and sent her packing. It didn’t matter how well she could play or not. Tiff could play too. All of us girls could. The coach would never see that, though. Our gender disqualified us in his eyes. A girl could be the best player in the school---able to run circles around his boys---and because she was lacking the necessary dangling bits, she was automatically a reject in his eye.
As I approached the field, I saw the guys assembling on the bleachers.
Most of the boys’ team was there. I say most because like us, they were down a few guys. After the float accident and losing two players, the coach made some cuts. He apparently took the disaster as a second attempt to purge his team of its dead weight. He dropped two more guys after that. Then he made the crazy announcement that everyone had to retryout in order to be considered for the team again. It was kind of unheard of but that’s McGuire for you.
Speaking of which, he was already in top form this morning.
Coach McGuire was a large bear of a man, over six five and build like The Rock. He struck a very imposing figure too with his bald head, barrel chest, and swagger. The coach was a former college linebacker, everyone knew that football was his real passion. After a busted knee, though, his shot at the pros went down the drain. I don’t know how he got into teaching and frankly, I didn’t care. After failing to secure the coveted football coach position, though, he settled for soccer. It was the closest thing to football he could get. He wasn’t happy about it either and he took that anger out on his players.
He was in the middle of a lecture when I dropped down next to one of the guys.
“Flynn!” he snapped, singling me out. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I gulped.
“I’m here to play soccer, sir,” I said, in the best macho sounding voice I could muster.
He eyed me like a wolf did a juicy sheep.
“We’ll see about that”
The tryouts started immediately after that.
Coach lived up to his rep as a hard ass. His first order of business was to weed out the “losers”. There were about twenty of us there to try out. Coach started us out with laps. Four times around the field. Two guys puked about halfway through. I heard him scream at them, telling them to “Get the hell off my field, you pansies!”. Another guy collapsed from exhaustion. As soon as the laps were done, it was pushups, sit-ups and jumping jacks. We lost two more. The coach didn’t get into the actual tryouts until two more guys were thrown out because they were “too soft”.
The coach didn’t let up.
He pushed us into drills as soon as the “losers” were gone.
And push us he did.
I thought Coach Ross was a slave driver with her drills but she had nothing on McGuire. He ran us through every drill imaginable and when we had enough, he made us do them all over again. Dribbling, attacking, defending, goalkeeping. You name it, we did it. He shouted at us the entire time too, calling us about every name you could think of. The guys from the team originally apparently had thick skin because the insults seemed to bounce off of them. A couple of the others, though, well let’s just say I’ve seen more teenage boys cry today than I’ve seen ever.
“Ok ladies, I’ve seen enough!’ the Coach finally announced after an hour of non-stop dribbling.
I was panting like crazy.
I wasn’t the only one either.
I looked to my left and saw Mark Riggins, bent over and panting just as badly. I knew Mark pretty well. We used to play on the middle school team together. It was a mixed team. Mark and I used to be co-captains. He was the only one I was afraid of right now. Partially because he kept staring at me throughout the whole ordeal. He knew, I could tell. He was a decent guy though so I’m hoping he was decent enough to keep his mouth shut.
“Now ladies, if I call your name, you’re on the team,” said the coach, holding his clipboard.
He’d been holding it this whole time, marking on it every so often as we went through hell.
I was in a fog while he called names. I knew I did well but it wasn’t good enough. The guys just had more endurance and power than me. As a girl, I knew it was a long shot. Hell, I actually thought McGuire was going to twig on me even before it started. I was just happy that he was too dense to see that I didn’t belong here. Well at least as far as he diluted mind went.
I was so in a fog that I didn’t hear him call my name.
“Hey that’s you,” said Mark, nudging me.
Blinking, I looked around in surprise.
Wait, did I just make the team?
The coach waved me over. I went rather reluctantly.
“You surprised the hell out of me Flynn,” he said with a laugh. “That doesn’t happen very often. I mean a weakling like you, you’ve never shown any kind of interest in sports before. In class, all you do is sit in the corner, on that damn phone of yours”
What the hell is talking about?
Wait, no…
‘You have guts, Flynn” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m gonna put you in reserve, though. It’s still a team position but you just don’t have the power these other boys have. I want you to prove to me that you can, though. You do that, I’ll swap you out”
I nodded numbly.
I was in an even bigger fog than before. Sure I made the team but not in the way I expected. I inwardly groaned, it all made sense now. No wonder the coach didn’t toss me out the moment I showed up. He didn’t think I was Jessica Flynn, he thought I was my dorky brother. Looking down at myself, I could see why. I was after all pretty boyish looking, added to the fact that I was wearing my brother’s clothes, my hair was pulled into a low ponytail and well I was my brother’s twin.
Damn it.
“Now why don’t you go hit the showers and we’ll talk more on Monday”
I nodded again.
I walked off the field, definitely not heading toward the showers. I was lacking something very important to shower with the boys after all. Shit, this was so fucked up. The moron thought I was a boy. Was he that blind or that stupid? Not only did he think I was a boy, he thought I was my dork brother. My dork brother who just made the boys’ soccer team. This was bad, this was very bad. I was in so much trouble. As soon as Monday got around, the coach was gonna know that I wasn’t Jordan. They’d want me to undress with them in the locker room before games and shower with them afterward. Not only that but I’d have to pretend to be my brother the whole time. All of that, of course, hinged on the fact that Jordan didn’t find out in the first place.
I know he’d come clean as soon as he did.
I was so screwed.
“Jordan!” shouted a voice from behind me, followed by heavy footfall.
I turned and saw Mark running toward me. At first, I panicked because I thought the dweeb was here too. That is until I realized he was talking to me. Shit, he thought I was Jordan too. Probably the whole time.
“Hey Mark,” I said, trying to play it cool.
Thankfully Jordan didn’t have one of those deep manly voices. The fact that my brother was so much like me might play to my advantage a bit.
“You were awesome out there,” said Mark, running a hand over his sandy blonde buzz cut.
Mark had great hair.
Hell, he had great everything.
I used to have a minor crush on him back when we used to play together. Even when he was this geeky, gangly kid with all those freckles. The freckles I was happy to see were still there. The rest of him though was quite different. Still tall but less gangly. Puberty had been kind to Mark as well. He’d grown out of that awkward dork stage and into a man. His shirt was currently off and his well-toned muscles glistened with sweat. I felt a tightness in my chest and twitch below the waist. I couldn’t help but stare at him.
“You ok?” he asked, giving me a concerned look.
“Yeah, just a bit rundown,” I said, recovering quickly.
Shit, I was checking him out and nearly blew it.
“I know what you mean. Mad McGuire runs us like that all the time. I’m used to it but you held your own. I didn’t think you had it in you, to be honest. In gym you just kinda well you know. It’s pretty cool, though. I thought your sister was the soccer star, though?”
I shrugged. “I got tired of her hogging all the spotlight”
“Cool,” he said, smiling. “Well, I gotta hit the showers now. I’ll see ya Monday at school”
He turned and bolted away.
My eyes drifted to his butt as he ran off.
Shit.
Not good girl, not good at all. My whole body was still tingling. Cursing, I turned and ran to my car as fast as I could. This was bad, all of this was bad.
What the hell was I going to do now?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
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Author's Note:Ok its Monday and its Ch.5 time. The story I think was building to this point, at least for Jordan. We're going to see some things here, he's going to realize some things about himself that he's been hiding or ignoring. I really like this chapter a lot too. Oh my plan is to have the majority of this story done by Halloween. I have a Halloween story planned in this "Just universe" which i'm hoping can tie into this one.
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5.
Jordan
“Jordan, sweetie. Did you take your pill?”
Mom was at the bathroom door, knocking gently.
The pills in question in my hand. I swallowed them quickly with a swig of water. The pills were supposed to help with my hormone unbalance. Which was kind of ironic all things considered? I mean if the pills were supposed to help then why did I have breasts? Staring in the mirror, looking at my naked chest, I couldn’t help but frown at what I was seeing. Boys weren’t supposed to have those. Well ok, technically they could have them but were they supposed to be like that? I’d done some reading on it of course. I knew all about gynecomastia and how some boys got it when they entered puberty. But I wasn’t like most boys.
Thanks to my imbalance, I didn’t start puberty until last year. Even then it was because of the pills. Jess and I were rare apparently. It took a battalion of doctors nearly two years to figure it out too. Then nine months ago, they decided that they needed to jumpstart things medically. So that’s where the pills came into play. Each of us was given a shot and then prescribed pills to help our bodies produce hormones of their own. The hope of the doctors was that the pills would kick start something in our bodies and push things the rest of the way.
Well, something was definitely kick started in me.
Though I’m not sure I liked the results.
“Jordan?”
Mom was still on the other side of the door apparently.
“I took them, Mom,” I said in a reassuring tone.
“Ok honey. Come down to breakfast when you’re done”
I waited and listened for her to leave. As soon as I knew she was gone, I left the bathroom. I bolted down the hall to my room. Locking the door behind me, I let out a sigh. It was getting harder and harder to hide things. The funny thing was I’m not even sure why I was hiding it. Dad was a doctor after all. I’m sure he could help me figure this out. I mean I was probably not the first boy he’d seen with breasts. According to Google, it was actually pretty common. Though most of the boys in the pictures I’d seen were a bit overweight and their “moobs” didn’t really look like mine. For one thing, they just looked like boys with well man breasts. Me, I looked like a prepubescent girl.
They weren’t getting any smaller either.
I didn't want to go to the hospital about it either.
I have this thing about hospitals. When I was younger, I was a bit sickly. When I was born, I was underweight and put in an incubator for about a week. Even after that, the doctors were concerned I might have problems. I was in and out of hospitals for a few years, getting a battery of tests. Many of them were concerned about the slight little boy who was rather thin and very weak. Thankfully by the time I started school, things evened themselves out. My fatigue went away and my grayish pallor vanished. There was some concern about a heart condition but when all tests came back negative, the hospital visits stopped.
I lived a normal life. Well, that is until this whole imbalance thing was discovered.
The thing about it though is that I developed this horrible fear of hospitals. I was scared that whatever happened to me back then would come back. The whole time I was there with the hormone thing, it took Mom holding my hand to keep me from hyperventilating. So you can see why I was so reluctant to tell them what was going on. As soon as they found out, it would mean more doctors and possibly more hospitals. I just couldn’t do that again. So this needed to go away.
That’s why I started taking two pills instead of one.
My hope was that a double dose of testosterone might make the bumps go away.
So far no such luck.
In fact, they looked bigger.
I didn’t know their exact size but I knew they were already starting to strain in one of Jess’s sports bras. Yeah, I wore my sister’s bra. I didn’t really have a choice anymore. They were that big. I knew from conversations I overheard that Jess was a 32 AA. I looked it up online, that’s a pretty small size. Like me, though, she had to use pills to jumpstart her puberty too. So it was only natural for her to be quite small right now. What wasn’t natural though was the fact that I was bigger. How do I know this? Well her sports bra wasn’t the only thing I tested.
Her tiny training bras didn’t fit me either.
Staring at the offending things on my chest right now, I wanted to cry.
That was another thing too.
I was doing a lot of crying.
Too much.
I was an emotional wreck all the time. I almost burst into tears last night at Leo’s. What with Tara having all new friends and things. The only thing that kept me from doing so was Chuck of all things. Thinking about it now though just kinda pissed me off. Were things supposed to be like this?
I stopped staring in the mirror and decided to get dressed for the day.
I went to my underwear drawer, reaching far into the back to get the sports bra I kept stashed there. It was the only one she wouldn't wear, pink. Mom bought them in a set for her but she refused to touch it. In fact, I found it in the trash. So I knew she wouldn’t miss it. I took it on a fluke. I was going to use it to tease her later on but fate it seemed had other plans. It was a good thing because I definitely needed it. Pulling it over my head the first time had been a pretty strange thing. Now I could do it without thinking but that first time I was scared at what I saw. I knew I looked like a girl. I knew I was a dead ringer for my sister. I didn’t grow my hair long to copy her like she thought. I did it for my music. I did it because I liked the way it made me look.
I think a small part of me liked being mistaken for her too.
It made me feel popular like her.
Shit.
Here're the tears again.
Wiping my eyes, I quickly pulled the bra over my head. I got it on like a pro. A master con artist applying his craft. Except there was no con involved here. As soon as the bra was on, I got the second part of my disguise. Online I read about some girls who used ace bandages to tie their boobs down. Usually, they were tomboys like Jess or girls who wanted to be boys. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I browsed through some of that stuff too. I was also very thorough when I did research in school for projects and things. My father always said, “if you’re gonna do something, do it right”. So I have always been one to cover all my bases.
So not only did I know about female to male transgendered individuals. I knew about male to female too. I also knew a great deal about those who were asexual, intersexed and everything in between. Like I said, research. I was conflicted about it all too. Especially about those boys wanting to be girls. I saw nothing wrong with them of course. In fact, they were by far the bravest people I’d ever seen. The girls wanting to be boys were too. My confliction came with myself. I couldn’t help but wonder if I might be like them as well? When we were younger and we pretended to be one another, I had no problems whatsoever slipping into the role of my sister.
Even after Jess started her new girlier lifestyle, I still pretended to be her.
Well at least in private anyway.
Did that make me want to be a girl too?
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
Mom again.
“Honey, I have to go into the office. I’ll probably be there all morning and afternoon. Dad is off on the course, your sister is at the school. I left the bacon for you on the table. Will you be all right by yourself?”
I loved Mom but she treated me too much like a kid.
“I’m sixteen Mom,” I said with a bit of annoyance. “I’m not Kevin McAllister”
“Well you have my cell number”
I rolled my eyes.
One of these days Mom was going to have to let me grow up.
As soon as I heard her leaving, I realized that the binding wasn’t needed. At least not right now. I only ever bound them when I knew others weren't going to be around. With my family gone until the afternoon, I had the house to myself. That meant I could just wear the bra and not worry about having to hide. It was a pretty rare occasion. At school, I definitely wore the bandage and most of the time I did around the house too. I could get away with the occasional hoodie or baggy sweatshirt, though. It was getting easier now because of the weather changing. I couldn’t wait for Winter which was ironic because I used to hate bundling up.
I definitely hated sweaters. In fact, all of them were stashed away in my bottom drawer never to see the light of day.
Pulling a t-shirt over my head, I proceeded to put on a pair of shorts. I was getting a little fat too. Well, at least my butt was. I think maybe I might have to finally use those workout clothes Dad bought me. Maybe I’d even take him up on his offer to go running with him in the morning. I definitely did not like the idea that these shorts---which were baggy last year---were really tight now. In fact, they were even getting hard to button. Laughing at it all, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and went down the stairs.
The house was all mine.
In the kitchen, I found Isis on the table, trying to steal my bacon.
Oh yeah, Isis is our cat. I didn’t mention her earlier because well she hates me.
She was one of those Egyptian cats. Mom spent a boat load of money on her. I didn’t really know the details because well I didn’t care. Dad and I weren’t really keen on her, to be honest. We both wanted a dog but Mom seemed to think they were too much work. At least that’s the excuse she used. I think she just wanted her stupid two thousand dollar cat.
“Mine stupid,” I said, pushing her violently on the floor.
She gave me a dirty look before bolting out of the room.
Ok so it might seem mean but the little Satan did a lot worse to me.
I had the scars to prove it.
Taking what was left of the bacon, I went to the living room and dropped on the couch. I grabbed the remote and found some good Saturday morning cartoons. It was still only nine, plenty of time to catch up on all my favorites. I lost myself in them. For the next two hours, I sat there like a vegetable, lounging about on my day of rest. I didn’t have to do anything or be anywhere until much later. I was so engrossed in my toons that I totally blanked when the door bell rang.
“It's open!” I shouted without thinking.
There was only one person it could be after all.
Tara.
It took me a second or two later to realize what that meant.
Shit, Tara and me like this.
I tried making a mad dash for the stairs but she was already in the house.
“Hey Jess,” she said with a little disappointment in her voice. “Is your brother around?”
Shit and Damn It.
Oh what the hell.
Shifting my weight---doing my best Jess impersonation---I turned around to face her.
“The dweeb is out with his dweebettes,” I said, mimicking her voice perfectly as well.
It wasn’t that hard actually. We sounded pretty close.
Tara gave me that look. It was the same one she always gave my sister. I hated to lie to her like this but I just couldn’t let her see me like this. The shirt I was wearing was white and the pink sports bra was visible through it. I didn’t really care when I put it on because well no one was supposed to be home. God, I’m such an idiot. I wasn’t ready to expose myself like this to my best friend.
“You mind if I wait for him?”
I opened my mouth to say no but found myself saying, “Who cares?”
Tara snatched the remote from my hand and went into the living room. I followed because well I really didn’t want to let her out of my sight. I also needed to get rid of her.
“Why do you do that?” she asked as I dropped down on the couch, as far away from her as I could.
“Do what?”
“Put your brother down like that. He’s not a dweeb. He’s awesome”
Thanks, Tara. I think you’re awesome too.
I almost said it as well but bit my lip. I was Jess at the moment.
I shrugged. “I guess I’m a bit self-centered and jealous”
She was too. There were a few other choice things I could say as well. I just knew Jess wouldn’t say those things about herself. Admitting she was self-centered, hell she did it all the time. She had one of those egos. She wanted everyone in the room to notice her and admitting her flaws was one of the ways she did that.
Tara smirked.
This was really awkward. I pulled my knees up to my chest in a feminine manner. I’d seen Jess sit like this more than once. I even found myself sitting like this from time to time. It was another one of those little feminine things I did without even noticing I suppose. Like sometimes crossing my legs or the way I brushed the hair behind my ear. These were the things that the guys would tease me about constantly. That’s the only reason I knew I did them. They would mock me mercilessly when they caught me doing it. Of course, I would always tell them that having a twin sister, you tended to pick up her mannerisms without even realizing it. I’m not sure if it was a lie or not but it fit because they always gave me sympathetic pats on the back after I said it.
We sat in silence for a long while.
I didn’t really have anything to say. Well actually Jordan would have had plenty of things to say but Jess not so much. My sister hated Tara. I think deep down she blamed her for ruining our bond. To be truthful, I think that bond was ruined long before Tara came on the scene. If I was being honest, I’d say Jess ruined that all on her own. Of course she’d probably never admit it. If you asked her, she’d probably say it was my fault. She tends to paint the past a little differently now. According to her, it was always me who wanted to pretend to be one another. In truth, it was actually always her. She was always the more aggressive one and could talk me into doing anything she wanted.
We were always brothers. She was J.D. and I was J.C.
When Mom and Dad put a stop to it, she found a new person to boss around in the form of Tiff. I will admit I hated Tiff for a long time. That changed when I found Tara. After she came into my life, I didn’t really care what my sister and her dumb friend did.
Speaking of Tara.
“You know I think I’m just gonna leave actually,” she said, getting up. “When your brother comes home, tell him to call me”
I nodded like a dumb idiot. I started to stand up with her when I realized that that was not something Jess would do. She wasn’t the polite one who showed our guests to the door.
Tara rolled her eyes and headed out toward the kitchen. She was almost to the door when it opened by itself.
In walked Jess in all her glory. Strangely enough, wearing my work out clothes.
I was so going to go down on her hard for sneaking into my room to take them.
Well later.
Right now, I wanted to crawl into the deepest hole and die.
“Jacy?’ asked Tara, giving her a weird look.
“Do I look like my brother, Hick Girl?”
I dropped to the floor so Jess wouldn’t see me. Tara snapped around, her eyes narrowing. She walked back into the room. Jess was already going up the stairs, grumbling about everyone being idiots today. I tried to make a break for the stairs too but Tara was faster.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, getting a hold of me.
Me, I felt the tears.
Before I knew what was happening, I turned around and sobbed on her shoulder. Stupid crying, stupid everything.
Tara let me cry it out.
I never was one to cry much when we were younger. I did cry when my grandmother passed away, though. We were in sixth grade. Grams had been sick for quite some time. Cancer. Everyone knew that eventually, she was going to leave us. They’d tried every treatment that money could buy. My grandfather wanted to continue but she was done with it. She told him if it was her time then there was no use trying to fight it. So they made her comfortable at home. A week after her declaration, she was gone. I remember it vividly because it was the first time I’d ever seen a Flynn man cry. My father and his brother were besides themselves with grief. My grandfather---ever the stoic man that he was---fought it up until the end.
Afterward, Gramps took me aside and gave me one piece of advice:
“Jordan, my boy,” he said, putting on his businessman hat. “Crying is not something to be ashamed of. Every person cries. What you should be ashamed of though is letting others see you do so”
He was referring to an earlier incident. The only other time that I could actually remember breaking down. I was eight. Jess and I were goofing off in Uncle Connor’s backyard. They had this wicked jungle gym back there. Jess was trying to prove that she was better than us---meaning myself and my cousin Cherry. To prove her point, she was going to race each of us on the monkey bars. Gramps was watching us and he told me that a “Flynn man never backed down from a challenge”. So I accepted. Jess was always stronger and faster than me. Halfway through the race, my fingers slipped. When I hit the ground, I landed on my left arm.
I broke my wrist.
I remember that day for two reasons. One because I was bawling like crazy. The other because I’d never seen my mother so angry. Nor had I ever seen anyone speak to my grandfather in that manner. She ripped him a new one for being reckless and idiotic. My father and my uncle had their turns at it as well. Gramps later apologized for pushing me into it. He did, however, chastise me for crying.
I couldn’t help but think of Gramps and those two times as I sobbed uncontrollably on my best friend’s shoulder.
“Jacy?” Tara spoke softly in my ear. “Do you want to go to your room and talk about?”
All I could do was nod. She took me by the hand and led me upstairs. I felt like a small child being led to bed by his mother. When we got into my room, I made sure to lock the door. Fortunately, whatever crying fit I had a moment ago was gone. I wiped my eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. Tara stood there for the longest time, just staring at me. There was motive and method in that stare. I could see her eyes roaming my body, taking in everything that she saw. The more she looked, the more I could see she was calculating. Tara wasn’t an idiot. I think I mentioned that before. I could see it now. She knew something was wrong with me.
“You want to tell…”
I cut her off. “No, but I’ll show you”
Very slowly, I pulled the shirt over my head. Tara looked at the pink bra for a second. There was a hint of amusement on her face. That hint vanished the moment I pulled said bra over my head. The amusement vanished to be replaced by utter shock. I knew that face well. It was the same one I had when I noticed the itch in my chest was more than what I thought it was.
“Jacy are those?’
I nodded. “I thought it was a fluke at first. I looked it up online. Gynecomastia they called it. Boys get it during puberty”
She nodded. “Yeah, they talked about it a bit in Health class”
I inwardly groaned. I wish I had remembered that. Tara was always good with those things.
I nodded, fighting back the tears. “The only thing is, it’s supposed to go away with time. Tara, this started shortly after you left and it’s not going away. They’re getting bigger!”
That shocked look came back.
“Are you sure?”
I shot her a look of my own. The “Uh duh” look.
“What do your parents think?” she asked but knew the answer before she even got finished with the question. “Your hospital fear. You haven’t told them?”
“I didn’t want them to freak or worry. I still think I can get this to go away. I’ve been taking my pills. Hopefully, this will all clear up and it will be nothing but a laugh in a few weeks”
Tara smiled weakly at me. “Can you do me a favor?” she asked in a soft voice, I nodded. “Can you take your shorts off for me?”
Wait, what?
“Ummm”
“I’m not trying to seduce you dumbo,” she said with a giggle. “I want to see something. Something important”
Reluctantly I did as I was told. The short intake of breath from her a moment later was not promising. My shorts were now down around my ankles. I looked down, trying to see what she was apparently. All I saw were my fat hips and the slight swell of a butt that was in serious need of exercise. Tara didn’t say anything. Instead, she took a step forward and grabbed my hands. Very gently she moved my hands up my body to my breast buds then down, tracing my body until she stopped at my knees. At first, I had no idea what she was doing then it clicked.
Oh shit.
How had I not seen that?
“Light bulb right?”
I wanted to cry again. I managed to nod instead.
This was fucking mind blowing. It wasn’t just my chest. It was my body. My whole body. The worst part is that I noticed but was in denial or something. Of course, my hips were a bit wider and my butt was fatter because well it wasn’t really a boy’s butt anymore. I turned to my little wall mirror and took a step back. I finally saw what she’d seen. What others have probably been seeing for the last year or so? There was not a boy reflected back at me. I’m not sure when it happened or how it happened but the girl looking back was in a total state of utter shock. The only thing that told me I was still a boy was the small bulge in my boxer briefs. I say small because well I’d never really been all that big, to begin with. Now, though, it was definitely smaller. Had I noticed and ignored that too? Were there other things I was missing as well?
“How long have you said this has been happening?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, ten, eleven months maybe?”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. “It makes no sense, though. I mean I’ve been taking my pills, in fact, I’ve been doubling up on them the last few months”
“Let me see them”
I went to my bedside table, opened the top drawer and took out the blister pack to show her. I only had a few pills left now. We were nearing the end of October. Halloween was little more than a week away. I was good on the pills, though. Dad had worked out a deal with the doctor. He prescribed them to Jess and I every six months. I still had two months worth of pills to use. Of course taking them twice a day was dwindling them down by half so well technically I actually had a month left. Give or take a pill or two. It was ok though because honestly, they didn’t really feel like they were working anymore. If anything, it almost felt like the pills were making things worse.
Tara was holding the blister pack, scrutinizing the greenish blue pill inside.
“200 milligrams?”
I nodded. “The dose was increased back in June. The doctors were concerned that Jess and I weren’t showing any visible results”
Tara nodded and handed the pills back.
I put them back in my drawer.
“I’m not sure but if you say they’re not helping, maybe you should stop taking them?”
I’d been thinking the same thing myself actually. I had planned on stopping this morning but with Mom breathing down my neck about it, well it was hard to do so. I hated lying to my mother too. Sure I was keeping all of this a secret from her but lying about the pills just seemed more severe. Ok, so my priorities are a little off at the moment. I guess the whole “girl body” thing was the bigger lie. It didn’t really matter, to be honest though because I was in it pretty deep right now.
“I know you might hate this but I really think we should tell your parents”
I nodded. I’d been thinking that as well.
I was just too much of a coward to do so.
I was afraid of what they might say or do. I’d read some of the horror stories online. I knew how some parents reacted to their children being different. I know Dad was a doctor and pretty liberal about things. Mom was super liberal about everything. I guess my biggest fear was them looking at me and pretending to sympathize and help but in truth were secretly disgusted by me. It scared me to death that my parents might reject whatever was going on and stick me back into the hospital. I definitely did not want to go back there.
There was another factor in all of this too.
The timing was just plain awful.
Mom and Dad had literally gotten married twenty years ago this month. In fact, next Friday to be exact. They’d been planning this super big trip for their anniversary. They’d been at it for months. It was only going to be for four days. Tracy was gonna take some time off school and come “babysit” us while the rents were away. The idea of me telling them all of this now. I just couldn’t imagine ruining their trip.
“Can it wait until after their trip?”
Tara gave me a long, hard look but in the end, she nodded.
“No, later, though. This is serious. You need someone to figure out what the heck is going on here and fast. It’s like you’re going through puberty but opposite”
We had a bit of a laugh.
It made me think, though.
We fell into a bit of silence after that, though. Neither one of us knew what to say. I could see Tara wanted to say something, though. I knew what she was thinking. It was the same thing I’d been thinking. It was that notion nagging at my mind since well long before all of this began. It started all those years ago when we first met and she mistook me for the “nicest and prettiest girl she ever met”. Of course, when I told her I was a boy she was shocked and didn’t believe. It wasn’t until after I revealed myself to her that she believed. Even then though she still treated me like her very best girl friend. It didn’t seem all that odd to me either. Even the slumber parties. We just felt like two friends doing what two friends were supposed to do.
But were we actually two girls the whole time?
“I’ve been thinking about something,” she said after some moments of silent reflection. “I’ve been thinking about it a long time actually. And I was wondering…”
I sighed. “You and me both”
She smiled awkwardly.
“You want to see?”
I was confused.
“See what?”
“If you and I are correct or not?”
A large part of me wanted to say “No way!”, scream it as loud as I could in her face. The small part of me, though---the more powerful one at the moment---she wanted to say yes.
It was ultimately her who nodded her head.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of people when they were younger but the differences became apparent as they got older or did they?
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Author's Note:I am no longer on track with this story as much as I used to be :(. I had the next two chapters already written but I hated the way they turned out so I deleted them. Now I have to completely rewrite both. So that's going to delay things quite a bit going ahead now. I hope to have Ch.7 completely rewritten by next week but I have a cold right now so things might be slow :(.
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6.
Jess
It didn’t take me very long to call Tiff as soon as I got home. I rushed right up to my room and told her everything. She congratulated me for making the team but…
“Wait, he thought you were your brother?”
She didn’t wait for me to reply. I could hear Tiff’s laughter on the other end of the phone. She laughed for quite a bit too. I almost hung up on the bitch. Then she fell silent. For a second I thought she laughed herself into unconsciousness.
“You done now?”
“I think so,” she said with a giggle.
“Good because I really need your help.”
“Ok,” she said, still with a bit of a giggle. She took another moment to compose herself. “The way I see it, you have two options. Both of them you’ll hate but I don’t see any other choice”.
“Lay them on me”
“Option number one, you quit the team”
“I really want to play. I mean what’s the point of doing all this in the first place then”
“You’re not playing, though. You’re reserve. The coach might put you in if he’s desperate enough but I can’t imagine that happening”
Reserve was basically the “you’re good enough but not that good” position. On the girls’ team being put on Reserve would have been an insult. Being put on Reserve for the boys' team---at least for me---was amazing. I knew I wasn’t as good as those guys. They were bigger, faster and stronger. The fact that I was able to keep up with them this morning was a shock. To quit now defeated the whole purpose of everything. I wanted to play soccer. Even if it meant warming the bench all season. I also wanted to stick it to the school as well. Even though they wouldn’t care, it was the principle of the matter.
“Smart ideas, remember?”
She laughed.
I know I was hard on her a lot but Tiff really was one of the smartest people I knew. She could be a little thick sometimes but she meant well. Tiff was actually a straight A student, way smarter than me. At DCH you needed to maintain at least a B average to be in sports. I barely made it most of the time. Tiff was an Honor Roll smarty. She just seemed to embody the dumb blonde stereotype way too well sometimes.
“Ok so Option Two is even crazier then,” she said with another laugh.
I sighed.
“Hey Bozo stop laughing and get to the punch line”
“Its real simple actually. They think you’re your brother so why not pretend to be him”
I had actually thought about that. Well for a split second. I say a split second because well it was the stupidest idea I’d ever heard. Of course, I’d done it many times but we were like six. It was easy for two six-year-olds---brother and sister---to pretend to be one another. It was all about clothes back then. We were pretty similar then too. Now though there were quite a few factors. For one thing, I had boobs and he didn’t. For another, he had something between his legs that I was definitely lacking. It would be pretty awkward showering and changing in the locker room without one of those. The most important thing about pretending to be him was him.
There can’t be two Jordans running around.
I laid it all out for Tiff.
When she didn’t laugh, I grew concerned.
“Tiff, I can’t be Jordan”
“Why not?”
“I told you why not dumbo”
“All that is superficial”
“How do you figure?”
“Ok so let’s break it down one at a time,” she said, putting on that thinking cap of hers. “One your boobs. I hate to break it to you Jess but they’re not very big”
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said, embarrassingly covering my little bumps.
“Its not a bad thing. All girls develop at different stages. It works to our advantage, though”
All of that was easy for her to say. Her’s were like C cups or something.
“I don’t like where this is going”
“Remember that movie from well a long time ago?” she asked “you know the one. With that group of girls from the 60s or whatever. Then it flashforwarded to when they were adults. Well, that girl in there, Christina Ricci’s character…”
I remembered. She and I watched it once at one of our many slumber parties.
I also knew what she was thinking too.
I groaned. “There is no way I’m wrapping myself like that!”
“I’m not saying wrap yourself. There’s not enough there to bind down actually. I’m saying we just get a tight sports bra and you layer your shirts. Maybe a tank over a tee or something. The illusion of being flat chested”
It wasn’t much of an illusion in my case. I practically was.
“Yeah well what about down below, Miss Smarty Pants?”
“We stuff it”
“We what?”
“We get a sock or something and stick it in your underwear. It’s all about the illusion”
The crazy thing was, she wasn’t talking crazy. I read this article online once for class about this girl who wanted to be a boy. It got me intrigued so I looked it up a bit. There were girls out there who did this kind of thing. Ok so not pretending to be a boy to join a soccer team but actually doing things like that to make themselves appear to be boys. Ironically enough there was also a movie about a girl who pretended to be her twin brother and joined the boys' soccer team as him. That actress who went crazy was in there. Amanda What’s Her Face.
“The rest of it is pretty simple. Its clothes and things. You can borrow your brother’s”
“You’re forgetting a few things,” I said, trying to state the obvious.
I could almost see her rolling her eyes when she spoke next.
“Ok so shower when you get home and change before you get to the field and after everyone else leaves”
“What about Jordan?”
“We don’t have to tell him”
“Umm I think he’s going to notice if there’s two of him around”
“Umm isn’t there technically two of him anyways?’ she asked. “I mean have you looked in the mirror lately? You know how often I mistake him for you and vice versa. Especially from behind. You two are practically identical. Especially with that hair.”
“And how exactly do we hide the fact that he’s on the soccer team? You know, from him!?”
“We don’t tell him”
“Umm Tiff, someone can’t be on a sports team and not know about it”
“He will technically be on the team. You’ll just be him. Look, Jordan doesn’t go to any games, right? He doesn’t usually follow the teams? I’ve seen him read the school newspaper. He usually browses the front of it and tosses the rest in the garbage. You said so yourself, you’re not actually going to be playing much anyways. Reserve means bench warmer usually. So you go to the game, sit on the bench and watch from the sidelines. There’s no attention drawn to you.”
“That’s really paper thin”
“Yes but still very doable”
I hated Tiff when she used her Tiff logic on me. Sure it was doable but it was also very dangerous. I’d get creamed by the school if they found out. I’d also get creamed by my parents. Not to mention how much Jordan would freak. It was absolutely crazy. The craziness of it all was exciting though too. It was like the prank of the century, well from a certain of view. It was also a huge political statement. The school was antiquated in their rules. There was actually a policy that stated that girls or boys were not allowed to play sports on the opposite gender teams. Even if there was no team for their specific gender. So no boy cheerleaders for instance.
It was a Title IX lawsuit waiting to happen.
This would be like me taking a stand for girls everywhere.
It also means giving the finger to the Board and especially to McGuire.
“Tiff, let’s do it!”
The next part of our plan hinged on my brother not being home.
I opened my bedroom door and called his name. There was no response. It wasn’t enough though. So I walked the few feet to his bedroom door and knocked. When he didn’t answer, I banged on it. Jordan hated it when I banged on his door. I waited a few seconds to see if he was going to come running to yell at me. When he didn’t, I knew I was alone. That meant I was alone in the house for hopefully a few more hours. Mom was known to spend hours at work on the weekends and Dad usually stayed at the club when golfing, sometimes for hours as well.
I had the whole house to myself.
I texted Tiff and told her the cost was clear.
While I waited for her to arrive, I went downstairs to get my workout clothes from the laundry room. Thankfully they were in the dryer waiting to be collected. The tiny running shorts and top were perfect for soccer practice. Except not so much for the boys team. In order for this to work, I’d still have to use Jordan’s stuff. Which meant I’d have to swap mine for his just in case. I knew the odds of him actually wanting to use said clothes were pretty slim but I couldn’t take that chance. Besides, I knew he never actually looked in the bag in the first place. He’d never know the swap had taken place.
The other clothes would be harder to borrow.
A knock on the door made me run down the stairs. I opened the door quickly, grabbed Tiff’s arm and yanked her inside.
‘That was quick” I said.
“You said hurry”
She was panting a bit so clearly, she ran here. Tiff only lived around the corner so it wasn’t much of a run.
I dragged her up the stairs and we used the bathroom to get entrance to the dweeb lair once again. My brother was starting to get paranoid or something. Did he think someone was going to steal something? Ok so steal something else. To be fair, he never knew I was stealing so I’m off the hook.
“This place is…”
I rolled my eyes. “Ignore the decor Tiff, we’re on a mission”
‘Right, sorry Captain” she said with a stupid salute.
“You check his closet and I’ll look through his dresser”
I didn’t want my friend rifling through my brother’s underwear drawer.
Hey, a boy needed his privacy.
“What are we looking for?”
I shrugged. “ A couple of shirts maybe, some shorts”
Definitely some underwear.
We needed to provide the illusion after all. His workout clothes were good but we wanted to have some backups just in case. The real thing we needed though was his underwear. I opened the top drawer, finding it full of rolled socks and boxer briefs. I grabbed a pair of each. Hopefully, Jordan wasn’t one of those OCD guys who would notice. Looking around the room, though, I could tell he wasn’t. He wasn’t a slob by any means but he wasn’t a neat freak either. There were clothes on the floor and magazines laying about here and there. Clearly, he wasn’t into organizing his junk.
‘Nothing good in here” said Tiff from the closet a moment later. “All of it is dress shirts and pants. Most of it though looks brand new”
“Probably is. J.C., doesn’t dress up much”
Ok, so I still called him J.C. from time to time.
I opened the drawer where he kept his pants. I knew I was never going to need to wear any of his jeans but I liked to cover my bases. I grabbed a pair. Everything I took I decided to replace with an item of my own. Well, not the underwear of course but the shirts, pants or shorts. It was an insurance policy. In case you know he noticed and asked Mom about it. They could ask me, I could pretend to look and see yes I somehow have some of his clothes. It’s actually happened once or twice before. Usually with shirts. Jordan had a lot of band shirts but he also had a lot of plain colored ones too. The fact that he wore a small or medium worked in my favor.
I swapped two white shirts with two white shirts and traded a pair of my jeans for his.
I think that was plenty.
‘Let’s go before we get caught” I said, making sure everything was left the way we found it.
Back in my room, I tossed my borrowed booty on the bed.
“You need to redecorate too,” said Tiff with a critical huff.
There was nothing wrong with my room.
Ok, so it looked a bit like a boy’s room what with the sports posters and trophies. Most of the posters were of female athletes, though. Hey, the walls were pink at least. I never was overly fond of the color, to be honest. It was one of the few hold over’s from Tracy’s time living here. This was once her room after all. Also from Tracy was the barely used vanity against the far wall and the floor length dressing mirror. In the other corner was a never used doll house. Most of my dolls and stuff animals were either stuffed in the closet now or in storage.
“Ok this is just a trial run,” said Tiff, taking charge. “Hop into the bathroom or whatever and put some of that on. We’ll see what we have to work with”
I groaned, suddenly feeling like I was in one of those TLC fashion shows.
I did as I was told, though.
I was glad she told me to go to the bathroom, though. Tiff knew me well. I always had problems dressing in front of other people, especially girls. I was very self-conscious about my body. Well, most teen girls were I think. It was different with me, though. Tiff and a lot of the other girls had gone through puberty when they were like eleven or twelve. I guess it wasn’t heard of to be a late bloomer. Hell Tracy was fourteen. It was a little weird when you were sixteen and still had the body of an eleven-year-old though. Thankfully the pills were helping a bit. I was taller now and I was putting on some nice muscle mass. My boobs and hips were growing too if a bit slowly. Ok so maybe only my boobs and only I think because of those enhancement pills.
I was at least a 32 AA now.
Small but getting there.
Mom and Tracy were a bit on the small side though too. Mom’s were currently a bit enhanced. She refused to let me do it to myself, well at least until I was eighteen anyway. She offered Tracy the same deal but my sister was happy with her 34 B. Tracy always said if she wanted them to appear bigger, there were ways to do that with surgery. Actually, in one of our rare sisterly bonding moments, she actually gave me the bra enhancements I currently used.
“You done yet?”
“In a minute,” I said.
I quickly stripped off my clothes, trying to avoid the mirror. Like I said, not a fan of my boyish body. I pulled on the briefs first. Should I be concerned that they fit so well? It was also fairly comfortable. I kinda liked the little bit of leg they had as well. I had thought about getting boy cut panties more than a few times. Unfortunately for me, Tiff and I did most of our shopping together. She has told me on several occasions that she is not going to be friends with someone who doesn’t wear real underwear. She was kidding of course but still made sure I wore the “normal” kind.
Pulling up the jeans, I was scared.
They fit really well.
Too well.
Shit.
Putting on one of the white tees, I finally turned to look in the mirror. What I saw scared the hell out of me.
Standing there, staring back at me, was Jordan.
Not the normal Jordan either.
A more boy looking one.
Tiff knocked gently on the door. She didn’t say anything though as she entered. I started to tear up a bit.
‘Its not fair” I said, sobbing.
She hugged me from behind. “Its ok honey. It will take time. You’ll get there”
I tried to stop myself from crying because Flynn’s didn’t cry around people. Except Jordan. He cried. Ok so only when he got hurt but still. I remember when he broke his wrist and grandpa was all like “Flynn’s aren’t supposed to cry” and grumbling. Mom ripped him a new one over it but grandpa just seemed to shrug it off. Then he got a little peeved at Jordan for crying at grandma’s funeral. The guy was an ass. Especially when he didn’t seem to care if I cried. I hate him for that. It was ok that girls could cry but not boys? Sometimes I begin to wonder how my father was ever raised by that man.
“You want to change back?”
I shook my head, wiping my eyes. “No, I’ve got this. We need to see to right”
She nodded, squeezing my shoulder a bit.
I left the bathroom with her and went to stand in front of my dressing mirror.
Boy Jordan was still staring back at me.
I say Boy Jordan because well real Jordan was only maybe Half.
I hate to be mean but it’s true. My brother and I didn’t get along but I promised myself to never say anything harsh to him about the way he looked. Sure I hated that he was prettier than me but I knew he had similar problems. He was trying to be a boy as much as I was trying to be a girl. We were both taking pills too. His boy pills were just as important to him as my girl ones were to me. We’d both get there, in time.
“So what do you think?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way?” she said with a sheepish grin. “But you’re kinda cute”
I feigned being offended. “Only kinda cute?”
She laughed. “Ok very cute”
She said that in a soft tone.
There was a look there for a moment, reflected back at me in the mirror. I’d seen that look from her before. It was gone a second later.
“You ok, Tiff?”
‘I’m good” she said, clearly forcing a smile.
Tiff was slow to open up about things. I knew she was suffering from something but I wasn’t going to pry. She’d tell me when she was ready.
“You think I could pull it off?”
She grinned wickedly. “I don’t know,” she said “Let’s go find out”
Wait, what?
She grabbed my arm before I could protest and dragged me out of the room.
Dad was actually coming into the house as we got downstairs. We nearly collided with him.
“Hi and Bye, Mr. Flynn,” said Tiff, still pulling me along.
“Where are you two going?”
“Out,” said Tiff again.
Dad laughed. “Ok have fun”
I was flabbergasted that Dad didn’t even notice I was wearing Jordan’s clothes.
I was even more flabbergasted that I wasn’t protesting more.
‘This is a really bad idea”.
We pulled into the parking lot. I slouched as low as I could in my seat so no one saw. I couldn’t believe I let Tiff drag me out dressed like this. If any one of our other friends saw me like this, I’d never hear the end of it. I’d be a total laughing stock at school on Monday.
“Stop hiding, it’s not like we’re at Leo’s”
True enough.
At Leo’s they were definitely bound to notice.
I made her take me to the Steamy instead. It was a local coffee shop, favorited more by some of the older kids. It wasn’t as crowded as Leo’s and they did make a really good frappuccino knock off. Tiff and I tended to like to hang at Steamy’s anyways. It made us feel cooler. Plus I wasn’t a huge pizza fan and Tiff always bitched about carbs. Tiff was always dieting or at least said she was. She was actually pretty thin. Healthy looking but thin. The only fat on her was in her boobs.
She had to practically drag me into the shop, though.
I would have dug my heels into the floor if I could. It was marble so, therefore, impossible.
She made us sit at our usual table. A two-seater near the window.
“Don’t move!” she ordered. “I’ll get us some fraps”
She left me alone. I wanted to kill her.
“Hey Jordan,” said a familiar voice.
I cursed. I forgot Mark worked here.
I turned and looked at him. He was looking very good today in his blue barista apron.
‘Hey Mark” I said, nervous as all hell.
‘I don’t usually see you in here and definitely never with Tiffany”
“She needs my help,” I said, lying quickly. “She’s got a thing for Craig. I’m trying to help her”
Shit, sorry Tiff.
‘That’s cool. Well, I gotta get back to the work. See ya Monday”
Mark walked off to wipe down the empty tables around us. I found myself watching him work. My eyes darted to his butt more than once.
Damn it.
Tiff came back with our drinks a couple of minutes ago.
“I saw that,” she said with a little smile.
“You saw nothing”
“Uh huh,” she said knowingly. “So what did Mr. Coffee Boy want?”
“Well to say hi to Jordan,” I said with a grunt.
“See, its working”
‘I guess so” I said “oh and FYI, you’ve got a crush on Craig now in case anyone asks”
‘Wait, what?”
“I had to explain what we were doing together. I panicked. It was the first thing I could think of”
“He’s the cute bass player right?”
“Yeah…wait…Eww Tiff”
I wanted to gag.
“What I like them tall, pale and mysterious”
I really wanted to gag now.
Then I remember something and laughed. “Well, you are his type. He has a thing for blondes apparently”
“Oh do tell”
I laughed as I told her the story I overheard the other day. “Apparently some blonde babe flirted with Craig at Teddie’s last month. Now he’s scouring the city looking for her”
We both had a good laugh.
We laughed about other things too. People came and went. Some of them from our school. No one twigged on me, though. Either they didn’t care or they didn’t notice. Like Mark, they probably thought I was Jordan. We did get one strange look from Rachel Brown. She was in a few of my classes and she sometimes sat with Tiff and I at lunch. The whole time she was there, Rachel stared at us. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice but I did. I told Tiff about it as soon as Rachel was gone.
“She didn’t think you were you. She would have said something otherwise”
“Then what gives”
“She was probably wondering what the hell I was doing here with your brother,” said Tiff with a laugh.
“Like Mark,” I said with a groan.
“Yep”
Crap. Rachel was a big gossip. I just knew come Monday there was going to be a rumor about Jordan and Tiff on a date at Steamy’s. This was bad, this was really bad. How the hell was I going to explain it?
Shit.
“Don’t freak out?” she said, clearly reading my facial expressions. ‘Let them think whatever they want. If someone asks me, I’ll just say it was the two of us and Rachel was mistaken”
Tiff to the rescue again.
She gave my hand a squeeze then had a laugh at my expense.
I joined in a second later.
I was still really scared though. This was all a little too intense. Specifically, because I’d been sitting here for over an hour---in my brother’s clothes---and I didn’t feel awkward about any of it. Sure they weren’t all that different from my clothes but I should have at least felt something. I mean I was pretending to be a boy and I was feeling fine about it? There was something really wrong about that. There had to be something wrong about that.
‘Can we go now?”
Tiff frowned. “Sure”
She took my hand again, this time not letting go until we got the car. I sulked the whole way home. When she dropped me off, I mumbled my goodbye to her. As soon as she was gone, I raced into the house. In my room, I couldn’t get out of Jordan’s clothes fast enough.
This was just too much.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
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Author's Note: Hello people, I'm back again. Sorry for such a long hiatus on my writing. Things have been a little crazy in real life lately. Those who know me know what I'm talking about. Thankfully things have calmed down now and I've been able to devote most of my free time to writing again. So new story. This is the one I teased about a little while ago in a blog. Its not finished but I'm currently on the 7th chapter so its going pretty strong. I'll post one chapter a week again like usual. You're going to need to bear with this story for a while though. Most of the first few chapters are about setting things up. Its going to take a while too. I've had fun writing it though. I'd like to thank everyone who's been helping me with it, especially ashleigh for her editing prowess.
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1.
“There’s another one”
“How many does that make now?”
“I don’t know, I think I lost count at like five hundred”
Dad groaned from the front seat.
He could groan all he wanted but he knew we were right. Ok so maybe five hundred was a bit of an exaggeration on my sister’s part but not by much. For the last several hours now, everywhere we looked all we saw was cows. I guess I now knew what they meant when they called this Cow Country but it was getting pretty ridiculous. Then again this whole damn thing was ridiculous. Things were finally starting to go right in my life---I had a girlfriend, I was finally starting to make some real friends and I think puberty was finally starting. Then Dad has to go and have some demented midlife crisis. I mean what sane person decides to uproot their entire family and move them from a city like Portland to the middle of Cow Country USA. Also, know as the “Middle of Fucking Nowhere”.
“Five hundred and two,” said Sara from the backseat.
“That’s enough of that now”
“Five hundred and three”
I could hear the enthusiasm in her voice.
“I mean it, young lady!”
I turned back in time to see Sara roll her eyes and crank up the volume on her iPod.
She was about as thrilled as I was about this move.
“Charlie, would you please stop instigating your sister?”
I groaned.
“Why, she’s right. We’ve passed like a billion cows and I mean why not we are in the middle of nowhere after all”
“I need you on my side for this buddy”
“Why, this is bull shit”
“Watch your language!”
“Sorry”
It was, though.
Mom definitely would not have approved either. She left her tiny little farm town for a reason. She told me once that she thought it was the most boring place on Earth. That’s why as soon as she graduated from high school she picked a West coast school and never looked back. Not that there was much to look back too. So far for the last few hours, the scenery was the same. Large open fields filled with grazing cattle. The grass wasn’t even green---it was this bland yellow color and don’t even get me started on the smell. Even with the windows rolled up, you could still smell the stink. I found it hard to believe that people wanted to live out here.
Dad, however, was excited.
When he pitched the idea to us a couple of weeks ago, he called it an adventure.
I called it insane.
Dad was adamant, though.
So he closed his huge, highly successful PR firm in the city, sold the house, packed all our belongings into a moving truck and dragged us out here. To the middle of Nowhere USA. Ok, so it was technically New York but definitely not a part you ever actually saw. I mean the least he could have done was take us to NYC to live or something. Dad had a plan, though. He wanted to live the simple life or something. So our port of call was Whisper Pines, the tiny little town in Cow Country that my mother grew up in. He wanted us to get closer to our roots or something. He said he made all the arrangements. He got us a new house in a brand new housing development and he took a cushy job as VP of Marketing for Whisper Meadows Dairy, a company owned and operated by my grandparents.
Dad thought it was the greatest.
Sara and I literally felt like slitting our wrists.
Ok so maybe not that extreme.
If there was such a thing as a mid-mid-life crisis, I think Dad was having one. I mean do thirty-five-year-old men usually decide to uproot their family on a whim? That’s what it was too, it had to be. There was no other explanation as to why someone who was successful and financially sound would want to dump his whole business and go work on a dairy farm? Sure the farm was owned by my grandfather and Mom said milk was in our veins but that still didn’t explain why Dad was so keen on it. Milk wasn’t in his veins after all. In fact, he was Greek. His parents actually lived on this little Greek island somewhere. Sara and I tried to convince him to let us go live with them but no dice.
Dad was keen on this new adventure.
We stopped talking after Dad snapped at me for my language. I turned to the window, hoping to find something out there to stem my boredom. It was all the same, though. The road was lined with wooden fences for as far as the eye could see. Beyond them was that yellow grass and beyond that, more yellow grass. There were lots of cows too. Most of them belonged to little farms that popped up here and there. Usually, though all I saw was grass and fence. It was horrible. How could people live like this? I mean I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen any true sign of civilization. Maybe the occasional sign or something but nothing concrete. An hour ago we crossed some train tracks and that was probably one of the most exciting things ever.
This was the adventure Dad wanted so much?
The boredom was killing me too.
Dad had forced me to sit up in front with him this morning, to help navigate he said. I’m not sure why, to be honest. We had GPS. I looked at the little screen now. The road we were on seemed to go for miles in both directions. I was pretty sure TomTom had died of boredom a long time ago too.
“Can we at least listen to the radio, please?”
Dad hated the radio playing while he was driving. He said it was too distracting.
“Why don’t you play that game thing of yours?”
That game thing was my 3DS.
“It needs to be charged”
“How about the license plate game. You used to love that”
I groaned. “When I was five”
Dad just didn’t get me anymore. Then again he had to be around some of the time to actually know me. I suppose there was one good thing about all of this. Dad had to spend some time with us again. We used to be pretty close when I was younger. That was before work became the most important thing in his life, though. We used to go to ball games and the park and the movies. Now, Dad was too busy to even have breakfast with us. Or at least he had been. Everything changed after Mom’s accident. I think Dad blamed himself for it. For a while, I think I blamed him too.
Tragedy has a way of changing things.
Dad stopped going to work. Sara and I started missing days of school. Eventually, we decided to stop going altogether. It was just easier. The school understood. They tried to send counselors. That lasted about a month before Dad realized he didn’t like what they were saying. Mom’s accident was four months ago. We spent three of those months in this collective funk. Dad decided we needed a change last month. That’s when he decided to let a colleague buy him out of the business. He cashed in some stock, put the house on the market and decided we all needed a change of scenery.
Personally, I think he needed the change.
At the time Sara and I didn’t argue because we thought Dad was blowing smoke out of his ass.
It didn’t become real for us until the house sold.
Now here we were on Day Three of our cross country road trip. We were apparently taking it slow. According to Google, this trip should have taken two days. Dad was pacing himself, though. I think he was trying to stretch things to spend more time with us or something. Too little too late in my opinion. I was fourteen now, Sara was eleven. Dad had his chance and blew it.
“I need to pee”
So she speaks again.
“Can you hold it, sweetie?”
“I’ve been holding it for like twenty minutes”
Sara leaned forward from the backseat, a lock of that rainbow hair of hers dropped in front of her face. Sara’s hair was an act of rebellion on her part. Or so she said. Her hair was usually dirty blonde but a year ago, she started experimenting with colors. It wasn’t the permanent kind of hair dye, though, Mom wouldn’t let her do that. Instead, Sara had permission to use the kind that washed out in a few days. Since then I think she used every color in the spectrum at least twice. Hence why I referred to it as “Rainbow Hair”. Today’s current color was purple.
Well, the ends of it anyway.
“Can you hold it for maybe twenty more?”
She gave him that look. She rolled her eyes again. Which looked, even more, threatening what with the dark eye makeup she was wearing. It was the only makeup my parents allowed her to wear. She was too young to wear other kinds. Personally, I thought it made her look like a raccoon but who was I to complain. My girlfriend Fiona wore it like that too. I mean my ex-girlfriend now I suppose.
"Charlie, give your sister one of those empty bottles”
Dad gestured to the floor with his head. There were a few empty water bottles at my feet.
I smirked. Dad really was clueless sometimes.
“What?” gasped Sara, disgusted. “I’m a girl, Dad!”
“Oh c’mon, it's not that bad,” I said, grabbing my bottle of mountain dew to tease her. “I mean I used one like an hour ago”
I waved the bottle in her face.
“Get that fucking thing away from me!”
She smacked the bottle out of my hand. I couldn’t help but laugh. Dad yelled at her for swearing. It was actually pretty damn classic.
A second later, I picked up the bottle, unscrewed the cap and took a swig. Sara looked like she was going to puke.
“It's Dew you idiot”
“You’re an ass”
“SARA”
“Well he is”
She dropped back into her seat.
I sat back with a bit of renewed confidence. I felt a little better actually. Messing with Sara felt normal. She and I had never really been close. When not listening to her music or dyeing her hair five different colors, Sara spent most of her time playing volleyball. I think she got all the sporty genes. Me, I couldn’t even tell you the first thing about volleyball. Or any other ball for that matter. I only went to baseball games with Dad because it was time to spend with him. I didn’t really know the first thing about it, to be honest. Before Fiona asked me out, I spent most of my time in my room playing games on the computer or reading comic books. The idea of going outside and doing something active was a pretty foreign concept to me.
Dad started to fiddle with the GPS for a few seconds.
“Ok,” he announced. “There’s a gas station rest stop about two miles down the road, you can go pee there”
“Thank you”
I snorted, still remembering the look of horror on her face when I drank my “pee” just seconds ago.
Still classic.
The gas station rest stop wasn’t much to look at, to be honest. Sure it had all the usuals of a rest stop---the gas station, a tiny convenient store, there was even a diner. What it didn’t have was people. It also looked like it had been here since the 1950s. The paint was peeling, the pumps were covered in rust and the buildings looked really dated. I think I’d seen this place before, maybe in some creepy old horror movie.
“You want me to pee in there?”
Apparently, Sara was thinking the same thing.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” said Dad, as he parked the car in front of the station.
A moment later, an older gentleman in faded gray overalls came walking around the side of the station. I could see what appeared to be a large garage back there. So maybe this place fixed cars too? The man walked slowly toward us. He even looked kinda creepy---thin, with large coke rim glasses and an unkempt beard. I think I’d seen him in that same horror movie. As he got closer, I saw the name on his overalls, Bud.
Great.
“Afternoon folks,” he said as Dad rolled down his window.
“Hi,” Dad said for lack of any better words I suppose.
“We don’t see too many people around here these days,” he said, wiping his grease-covered hands on his pant legs.
“Just passing through to Whisper Pines”
“I know that place well. We got a truck that drops off milk from that there dairy they have.”
Dad nodded.
“Do you have a restroom, sir?” asked Sara from the back.
“Sure thing little lady”
Sara didn’t wait for an invitation. She opened the car door and took off for the gas station. Bud chuckled a bit. Sara didn’t even bother to shut the door.
Dad looked over at the diner. “Is it open?”
“Of course it is. The Missus makes a fine pecan pie if you’re interested”
“Sounds wonderful”
I wanted to groan but that would have been rude.
Now we were going to be stuck here for a while. Just great. I wanted to get this trip over with, not drag it out some more. The way Dad was taking things we’d probably end up spending another night in some motel somewhere. At this rate, we’d probably be to our new house next week.
“Charlie, would you get her door please”
This time I did groan. Dad gave me a look so I didn’t really have much of a choice. I opened the door and climbed out of the car. I’ll be honest, it felt pretty good to stretch my legs. We’d been driving for about five or six hours now. We started the journey this morning in a small motel just on the Indiana/Ohio border. Now here we were having just passed into New York about an hour ago. According to Dad, we’d be in cow country for the rest of our journey apparently. The rest of which was only a few hours, thank you, Google!
Walking around to the back of the car, I couldn’t help but notice the smell was here as well. Pinching my nose, I closed my sister’s door. By the time I got around to my side of the car again, Dad was getting out. He was doing that old person stretching thing he liked to do----overly doing it I might add. Not that he was out of shape, far from it actually. To look at Dad then his children, it was hard to see how we could even be related. Dad was tall with broad shoulders, olive skin, and dark hair. He was well fit too, spending what little free time he had at the Gym and every morning before working jogging at least two miles. Dad was like something out of Pygmalion, a Greek sculpture come to life.
When he and Mom used to go out, women used to walk up to her and tell her how lucky she was.
He made me feel so inferior all the time.
“Charlie, can you get your sister and meet me over at the diner?”
Great now we were eating here too.
“Sure whatever”
Dad shook his head before heading off in the direction of the little building. I watched him go before looking at it. It looked like one of those old Soda Shop places you only saw in real old movies. It even had one of those neon signs that said “Terri’s Diner”. I’m assuming that was the owner. There was a similar looking sign for the Gas Station that told me this place was Samuel’s Gas and Go. If I had to guess I’d say this place was probably a truck stop too. Not that there were any big rigs here now. It---like the rest of this place---looked disused and deserted.
I started toward the gas station, keeping my eye on the convenient store attached to it. As I got closer I could see inside through the large glass windows. Sure enough, I found Sara, up at the counter chatting it up with the guy there. Of course, my sister would be with a guy. Sara liked only a handful of things---one was a band called the Poison Tongues, two was her crazy alternative fashion sense, volleyball of course and most importantly, it was guys obviously. It didn’t matter if they were ugly either, she just always seemed to gravitate toward them. They gravitated toward her too. She had this way about her.
Walking into the little shop, a bell actually sounded.
Neither of them noticed.
I didn’t really care.
I browsed the aisles as I made my way up front. It was the typical little convenient store with the freezers against one wall, a coffee machine, some vending machines and even some old arcade machines. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen one of those actually. I stopped at the chips, grabbing a few bags before getting a couple of Slim Jims and some Combos. When I finally reached the counter, I grabbed a couple of Snickers. Hey, I’m a growing boy, not that I looked like it sadly.
“When you’re done flirting, Dad wants us over in the diner”
My sister flushed about five shades of red.
Served her right.
“I’m not related to him,” she said, waving me off.
The guy looked disinterested. He was her type, though. Sorta grunge meets idiot. I could tell by the dopey look on his face. The little peach fuzz on his chin was a pretty dead giveaway too. Sara was pouring on the charm though but the guy was barely biting.
I pushed her aside so I could pay for my things.
“Give me your stuff too,” I said, taking her single pack of gum.
She rolled her eyes.
The guy watched me with interest.
“You guys live around here?” he asked, ringing up my things.
“Not yet,” said Sara happily “We’re moving to Whisper Pines, though”
The guy nodded.
“Cool. I live there too. You guys going to Whisper High too?”
Sara shrugged.
“If that’s the high school then ya,” I said, wondering if this guy was even smart enough to go to high school.
“Cool”
“Yeah cool,” said Sara, beaming.
“When are you starting?” he asked, looking directly at me.
It was as if he was trying to pierce into me with those eyes. Ok, so I’m an oblivious idiot too because it took me longer than a minute or two to realize what was going on. As soon as I did, though, I wanted to hurl. The dude wasn’t into my sister, he was into me. Double hurl. Not that I thought there was anything wrong with it, of course, I knew of gay people back home. I just knew that the reason he was into me wasn’t because he was gay, though. Probably . It was me. There were a few things about me that some guys had trouble with. One I was thin and shall you saw delicate looking. I did not get my father’s manly genes sadly. Two I was only fourteen and puberty was taking its time so no facial hair or anything like that. Three I had my mother’s very fair complexion and almost white blonde hair. Last but not least was the length of that hair.
I kept it long.
It was only down to the middle of my neck but that seemed to be enough. Most people either assumed I didn't care or I was a tomboyish girl. It was kind of frustrating. Sadly it made a lot of guys think two things about me. I was either a “big fag” or I was a “cute girl”. There was no middle ground either. I had every intention of getting it cut before we left but kept procrastinating.
"I’m sorry,” I said, feeling myself turning green. “I’m not into guys”
The look of disappointment on his face made me feel a little bad for the idiot.
“Oh,” he said.
Sara twigged on it a few seconds later. The look on her face was priceless as always. First, she looked as if she wanted to punch him in the throat. Then she looked like she wanted to punch me in the throat. Then she got this cruel smile.
Oh shit.
“Now don’t be that way, sis,” she said wickedly, emphasizing the word sis, of course. “Everyone knows you swing both ways”
Damn her.
“So why don’t you give Ricky your cell number,” she said, still with that evil smile. “And try to fit him into your busy social calendar”
Before I could say anything, Sara took a napkin from the counter and wrote my number on it.
Double Damn Her.
The cashier---Ricky---took it from her with a big smile.
I shot him an awkward smile before I grabbed my bag and Sara by the arm.
I dragged her toward the door quickly.
“I hate you” I hissed as I pulled her outside.
“Mountain Dew, Dip Shit!”
She pulled out of my grip and started off toward the diner, laughing like a jackass.
Oh, she was so getting her hand dipped in water tonight.
Terri’s Diner was just as quaint on the inside as it was on the outside.
It had one of those bells too. It smelled a lot better than the convenient store, though. Thank God for that. I always loved the smell of apple pie and french fries. It reminded me a bit of home. Mom had been a great cook. I missed her cooking. With Dad these last few months, it had either been take out or fast food. Sara didn’t seem to mind because she was like a Bottomless Pit but me, I missed a nice home cooked meal.
Looking around as soon as we stepped inside, I found Dad in a booth by the window.
Not that he was hard to spot, the place was empty.
Well, save for the overweight older woman in the waitress uniform. I could only assume she was Terri.
She smiled at us as we walked toward Dad.
“Take a seat anywhere, girls,” she said with a warm smile.
Sara scoffed, I wanted to punch her.
What was with it with these Backwater people. Hadn’t any of them seen a boy with longish hair before?
We slipped into the booth. Sara was chuckling, Dad shook his head.
“See I told you to get your hair cut”
Sara broke out laughing. “You should have seen the guy in the store hitting on him”
I threw sugar packets at him. “If he calls my cell, I’m kicking your ass”
“You’ll try”
She had a point there. I wasn’t proud to admit that she could easily beat me up.
Dad raised an eyebrow.
“Do I even want to know?”
Sara quickly regaled him about the “Convenient Store Incident”
Dad smirked and shook his head.
“I’ll get you a new cell as soon as we get settled”
“It's fine” I huffed.
I’d deal with it later.
I was in the middle of my pout when the waitress came over. Looking at her up close I could tell she was the same age as Bud. Which further strengthened my theory that she was his wife. He also mentioned that the “Missus made a mean pecan pie”. Looking at the counter behind her, I could see a pecan pie on display. I also noticed a few other indications. She was wearing a wedding ring for one thing. For another, she had the same little cross pin on her lapel as the mechanic had. I hadn’t really paid much attention to his but now that I saw it on her I knew there had to be connection.
“Good afternoon folks,” she said with a warm smile. “My name is Terri. My husband Bud said you all were passing through on your way to Whisper Pines?”
Bingo.
Dad smiled back. “That’s right. My In-Laws own the dairy”
“Oh my word, these are Penny’s little uns”
“You knew my wife?”
“Of course dear,” she said then gently touched my father’s hand. “I was heartbroken when her father told me about her accident. You lot must have been devastated”
My sister and father nodded.
I think I nodded too.
I was just a bit distracted by being called a “little un”. I was fourteen now, not exactly little anymore. Unless of course, she was talking about my height. Not that five foot five was short by any means of course. It was, however, a tad on the short side for a boy my age. Stupid puberty, mucking things up again.
“It's been hard” Dad was saying. “But I wanted the kids to see where their mother grew up, maybe have a fresh start”
Terri nodded. “Of course”
She and dad talked a bit about Mom. Apparently, she really knew her. She started talking about Mom as a little girl but I tuned it all out. I turned and looked out the window instead. There wasn’t much out there. No wait, there was something. There was a cow. That was kind of odd actually. I’d never actually just seen one cow before. Usually, they were in a herd right? Not that that was the odd thing about this cow, though. The odd thing was that it was eating a shirt. A bright pink one to be exact.
“Ummm,” I said, interrupting. “I think your cow took something off your clothes line”
Terri looked out the window and laughed. “That’s not my cow sweetie. It's a stray. Probably wandered off. Bud has already called your grandpa about it. They’re sending someone to get it tomorrow morning”
I nodded and turned to look at the cow again. I noticed something else too. There was a pair of shorts near it as well, underneath its hind legs. I couldn’t help but smirk, thinking maybe the cow had been wearing clothes. Of course, it was ridiculous but it was funny nonetheless.
Sara looked out the window too. “Oh tough break, that’s a Kenny Martel she’s eating”
“Who’s Kenny Martel?” asked Dad.
Sara rolled her eyes. “A big designer. That's his logo on the sleeve. That shirt is like three hundred dollars, easy”
Jesus.
“Well, it's a future cow patty now,” said Terri with a light chuckle.
I looked back out the window. The shirt was almost completely devoured now. I couldn’t help but think how strange it was. Who in their right mind would leave a three hundred dollar shirt lying around for a cow to eat?
Sara lost interest in the cow about two seconds after she grieved the shirt. Dad watched for a second longer before he gave up too. I sat and watched as the shirt slowly disappeared. I’m not sure why I was so fascinated with it, to be honest. I guess it was just the idea of something so expensive going to waste like that. It just seemed so pointless. When the shirt was completely gone, I lost interest too.
“Now then, what can I get you folks”
Dad ordered first. A club sandwich and fries. His usual.
“How about you girls?”
I groaned. What the hell was it with these people?
“Do you have chicken fingers?”
“Sure do, Sugah”
She ordered that then asked for some coffee.
“Aren’t you a little young for something like that”
“I’m from Portland. That’s in Oregon. It's like the Coffee Capital of the World”
“Just bring her a pop or something”
“Eww, no”
“How about some milk, sweetie?”
Sara looked disgusted. “I’m not five”
Dad gave her his “Don’t sass adults” look. He was constantly giving it to her. Sara had a bit of an attitude that sometimes needed adjusting.
“Ok, we have juice. Apple or Orange?”
I scoffed at the apple juice. It was a shame I didn’t have some of that in the car earlier. It would have made that joke all the more genuine. Sara shot me a dirty look. She clearly knew what I thought was so funny.
“Orange then please”
“And for you, sweetie?”
I ordered a grilled cheese and fries.
“I’ll have that glass of milk too if you don’t mind, Ma’am”
I shot Sara a dirty look of my own.
Sara refused to drink milk because of all the empty carbs or some stupid thing. She was always changing her mind about stuff. One week she was a Vegan, the next week she couldn’t eat vegetables. It was actually hard to keep track. Mom always knew what was what, though. She was cool like that. I think it was what made her so good at her job. Being a reporter you always had to know the right things at the right time. Out of the three of us, she was the only one that seemed to understand the world that was Sara.
“I’ll be right back with those drinks then”
Terri left a moment later.
“You’re such a dork,” said Sara, throwing a sugar packet at me.
“Knock it off!” snapped Dad.
I think he was finally getting annoyed with her today.
It was about time honestly.
Terri returned a few minutes later with our drinks. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a glass of milk with any meal. Least of all in a restaurant. Taking the class, I took a nice long sip. Wow. There was something different about this one. The milk tasted fresh. I mean fresher than most milk. It was also cold and frothy. I’ve had my fair share of milk over the years but this one was amazing. It was like super milk or something. Ok, so that was taking it too far but not really.
“What kind of milk is this?”
Terri gave me a strange look. “It's Whisper Meadows, sweetie”
“Wow, really?”
She nodded. “You’ve never drank your own granddad’s milk before?”
I shook my head. “They don’t carry it in Portland”
She looked wounded for a second. Then she turned that frown into a great big smile again.
“Well drink up, sweetie”
I smiled and nodded, taking another great big sip.
Terri wandered off again, Sara rolled her eyes again. I sat and drank my milk. Before I knew it, I finished the whole glass. Terri brought me another when she brought our food. Biting into my grilled cheese, I could automatically tell the cheese was from the Dairy too. I couldn’t help but smile when I ate. Not just because of that fact but because well it tasted home cooked. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually had something, not in a plastic bin or paper wrapper. Looking at Dad and Sara I could tell they were enjoying it just as much as I was.
It was so good, none of us spoke through the whole thing.
I couldn’t remember the last time we ate a meal without talking.
When we were finished, Terri came over.
“And how was that?”
“Fantastic,” I said, speaking for all three of us.
She smiled.
When Dad pulled out his wallet, she stopped him.
“Not on your life. Joe Miller would blow a gasket if he found out I charged his family for a meal. This one is on the house, dear”
“Well that’s really nice of you but I insist...”
“I don’t want your money, honey,” she said sweetly.
The two of them went back and forth about it a few times.
Terri won in the end, though.
We thanked her again for the meal and she followed us toward the door. As we were leaving, a couple of big rigs pulled in. I smiled. I was glad to see this place wasn’t as dead as I originally thought.
“Race you to the car, dweeb!” shouted Sara as she ran off.
I wasn’t in the mood, though. I started to walk slowly toward the car when I stopped. I turned and looked back toward the cow. I was still perplexed about something. I looked at Dad but he seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Bud and Terri. Shrugging it off, I decided I wanted to get a closer look at the cow. The last time I’d ever really been close to one when I was five. It was during the summer that year when we came here to visit Grandpa Joe and Grandma Diana. It was one of my favorite vacations we took. Sara didn’t remember it of course because she was a baby but it was a good, happy trip.
Approaching the cow now, I noticed it had moved onto eating the shorts.
They were jean ones, probably just as expensive as the shirt.
I thought about trying to pull them out of its mouth but decided it wasn’t worth it.
The cow lazily looked at me as I approached. I forgot how big they were. I also forget how bad they smelled. Strangely enough, though, this one smelled pretty good. Well, not as bad as some of the rest I suppose. That wasn’t the funny thing about this cow, though. It was its hooves. Or actually what was on them. I actually had to bend down to take a closer look but I couldn’t help but laugh as I did. It looked like someone had painted the cow’s hooves blue. No, wait not paint. It was fingernail polish. It covered all four hooves too. What the hell? I started to stand up when I noticed something else, something in the grass by her left hoof. It was gold and caught the light. Bending down, I picked it up and found myself holding a necklace. Well, a broken chain and a pendant. The pendant was about the size of a quarter, shaped in a heart. The front was smooth and the back, there was something written there.
I flipped it over.
“A & C. BFFs” I read softly to myself.
It must have belonged to the girl who left her clothes.
Why in the hell would she leave them, though?
I stuck the pendant in my pocket. Maybe there was someone in town who knew who it belonged too. It seemed important and I wanted to make sure it got back to the right person.
“Hey Charlie, c’mon!” shouted Dad, who was at the car.
I waved and patted the cow on the head. I started to turn when something else strange caught my eye. It was the cow’s eyes. I’d seen a lot of cows in the last day or so. Some of them pretty close as we drove by. All of them had these dull, muddy brown eyes. This cow, though, it had vibrant blue eyes. They didn’t look cow-like either. Ok so I didn’t really see other cows this close but the eyes looked too bright to be a cow’s. Could cows even have blue eyes?
“C’mon idiot!” shouted Sara, annoyed.
“I’ll google it later,” I said to myself, before turning and running toward the car.
I stopped one more time to take a look back at the cow before climbing into the passenger seat.
What a strange thing.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's Note: Ok so two things, one from now on this story will be posted on Mondays. The second is that I'm going to try something new, which is to use a new picture with each chapter. The pictures that I'll use are going to have some connection to the chapter. Or least that's the plan. I'll get them as close as I can :D. As for this chapter itself, I'd once again like to thank ashleigh for her great editing :)
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2.
“What’s that?” asked my sister, looking over my shoulder.
After leaving the cow at the diner, I decided to get into the back seat of the car. Sara had the choice to take shotgun but she loved the freedom in the back. I was feeling a little sleepy. The back seat allowed more room to lay down if I needed it. The new car was another bit of contention with us. Dad used to be seen as semi-cool because he drove a Mustang. It was one of those sleek, shiny newer models. It only had two seats, though. It was the reason he ended up selling it in favor of something a little more family friendly. Which meant our current vehicle---a 2017 Hyundai Accent. A big downgrade from the Stang if you ask me but seeing as the Mustang would never fit all three of us, it was necessary.
The only good thing about the Accent was the roomier backseat.
Sara poked my arm. “I asked you a question”
“Oh sorry,” I said, showing her the pendant I was currently holding. “I found it near the cow”
Sara took it from me, looking it over closely before handing it back.
“Nothing special”
I shrugged. “Maybe not to you but to whoever lost it”
“You’re going to try to find her aren’t you?” she asked in a mocking tone, I shrugged again. “Be her Knight in Shining Armor”
“Bite me”
Sara started laughing then went back to her music. Just as well, I really didn’t want to talk to her anyway.
I looked back down at the pendant in my hand. It didn’t look brand new which meant someone probably had it a long time. It was a little worn too so that told me someone also gripped it in their hand, probably rubbed it a few times. It was definitely a cherished item. Not only that it had an inscription. It meant something to someone. Not just one someone either. There were two girls out there that this necklace and pendant had meaning too. Someone had the twin and I wanted to make sure that whoever they were, that everything was made right again.
Maybe I was just over thinking it all, though.
Maybe it meant nothing.
I didn’t really know all that much about friendships, to be honest.
I didn’t actually make my first friend until after Mom passed away.
His name was Doug. It was all rather a strange set of circumstances that led to our first meeting. I was on one of my many walks in the city proper. I rarely went into the city because I hated a lot of noise and tended to avoid large crowds whenever possible. Unfortunately for me at the time I had no choice. The online store I ordered my comics from didn’t have my current issue in stock. At least online anymore. Apparently, they had a physical store in the city, which sadly forced me to make the trip. I took the bus and dreaded it almost immediately. The way I look is always a problem, well at least to me. People liked to stare because they thought I was sick or an albino or something. It was all pretty strange. I mean not even Mom was as pale as I was. Don’t even get me started on Dad. Anyway, the bus was a mute point. It took me to the city, I got off a block from the comic book shop.
I met Doug inside.
I would never have given a guy like him the time of day, to be honest. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a buzzed head. He looked so out of place in there. Except of course for the Batman t-shirt, he was wearing. Our meeting was by some weird chance. We were both actually there for the same comic. I hated meeting people for the first time because of the assumptions---I was short, pale and had my hair. Everyone just assumed I was a girl and treated me like one. Not Doug though. We both reached for the same comic and he said, “Sorry Dude”. I was thrilled to finally be seen as the guy I was.
Our friendship grew from there.
It turned out we actually had a lot in common.
Then we moved.
Doug had my cell number of course. He also had my Skype contact information. Like with Fiona though, I knew it was only a matter of time before we stopped talking. Such was the way with things. I would try my hardest to keep in touch with him but I knew already how it was going to end.
Which reminded me…
“Hey Dad, can you pull over for a second?”
Dad looked in the rear view.
“You should have gone before we left the rest stop”
“What no, not that. I want to get my laptop out of the trunk”
Dad looked at the road. There was no one on it but us. Nodding, he pulled the car over to the shoulder and stopped. It only took me like a minute or two to hop up. He popped the trunk and I found my laptop bag right where I left it, wedged between Dad’s golf clubs and my school backpack. I grabbed the pack as well and carried both of them back to the car. I was about to get back in when I noticed we were close to one of those fences. On the other side, I saw a bunch of cows. They were off in the distance, though. I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them had blue eyes like the one at the diner.
“C’mon idiot!” shouted Sara, leaning out her window.
I walked back to the car, trying not to think about cows again.
We got back on our way in a couple of minutes. I was back in the front seat with Dad. I didn’t like it when Sara looked over my shoulder when I was doing things on the laptop. Especially when I was trying to call Fiona. I brought up Skype, waited as it called her number. It was taking longer than it usually did for some reason.
Dad must have seen me getting frustrated.
“We’re three hours ahead of her now, she’s probably in school”
I shook my head. “We...I mean they had a three-day vacation”
It was President’s Day weekend after all. The reason Dad wanted to go now so we wouldn’t miss any more school than we had too. Of course, we’d still miss school when we got to our new house. We left home---well our former home----Friday morning and it was now one o’clock on Monday afternoon. Eastern Standard time. The time zone change took some getting used to actually. It was still a little confusing actually. So I knew where Dad was coming from. No, Fiona and I had made a promise to one another Thursday night. We knew a long distance relationship would never work but we promised to still remain good friends. She also promised she’d be available today around this time to Skype with me.
I tried calling her again.
She finally picked up on the third time.
The Internet here in the middle of nowhere wasn’t all that great, to be honest. I was actually kind of surprised there was any at all. I’m not sure but we must have been driving through a Hot Spot or something. At least the picture wasn’t fuzzy or anything. Fiona’s smiling face appeared on the screen, just as beautiful as I remembered. Not that I could forget it, of course, especially seeing as we spoke last night in the motel. It was nice to see her again, look into those green eyes, admire all that auburn hair again.
“Hey Greek,” she said, with a smile.
God, I loved that smile.
“Hey Irish”
It was this little thing we had. It actually wasn’t our doing. Fiona and I actually met at the school’s week-long Cultural festival. It was in October and as a Freshman, I wasn’t even sure how I got roped into it actually. It was a big thing though apparently. Each country had a table that represented their culture. The school tried its hardest to assign kids to tables with nationalities they represented. Most of the tables though were just manned by random students. Greece had been one of those tables for years apparently. That is until the Student Council sought me out. With a last name like Kanenas, it was hard not to know I was Greek.
Unfortunately for me, I was the only Greek kid in the whole school. I ended up having to main the Greece booth through the whole festival. Fortunately for me, though, the Ireland booth was right next to mine. The school didn’t really put the booths in any concrete order. There were also a lot of kids who manned the booths around me. Fiona was luckily one of them. We didn’t actually know each other’s names because the Student Council member who introduced us said “He’s Greek” and “She’s Irish”. So that’s what we ended up calling one another the whole time. We eventually learned each other’s real names but those names stuck with us as a little inside joke.
‘Where are you, your connection is a little slow?”
I groaned. “New York now. Not too far from our destination”
“I miss you”
“I miss you, too”
Our relationship wasn’t a very long one actually. We’d been friends for only a few months before she decided to ask me out. It was last month that we made it official. It was during Winter Break, we were at one of these indoor ice skating rinks. Fiona was a figure skater or was one in training I guess. She liked to spend what little free time she had---outside of school and practicing---at the rink. We were skating around together when she stopped me in the middle of the ice and asked me if I was ever going to ask her out. It took me a bit by surprise actually. Not that I didn’t like her, I really did. I just never really thought of her as girlfriend material. She took the next step though and asked me out, before kissing me of course.
That’s the way she was.
Forceful.
Not that I minded in the least of course.
“So how goes training?”
Fiona had a big competition coming up. She wasn’t the best in her class but she wasn’t the worst either. She’d been practicing this new move and she was getting pretty confident that she could pull it off. At least she was pretty sure last night anyway. Most of our conversations were about her skating, which I didn’t mind. She had a lot more going on in her life than I did. Me, the only thing I was ever able to contribute was a few quick things about the current comic I was reading or the game I was playing. I liked them a lot but I wasn’t nearly as passionate about them as she was her skating. She could talk for hours about it and I had no problem listening. Maybe that’s what made me such a good boyfriend?
“It's going great. Madame Olga says I’m ready”
“That’s fantastic”
Her teacher was this strict Russian Slave Driver. I should know, I’d had my fair share of run-ins with her. She called me The Distraction. If anyone was happy to see me go, it was probably her. She had made it known many times that Fiona did not have time for a boyfriend.
“So how are things going there?”
“Weird”
I quickly told her about the rest stop and the cow. It was after all the first time I could tell her something cool had happened to me. Not that it was really cool or anything but it was different. Plus how many people could say they say a Blue hoofed, blue eyed cow eating a designer shirt. Fiona laughed of course. When I mentioned the necklace, she agreed with my sentiments. I needed to find whoever it belonged too.
“BFF is for life, Kar. You have no idea how sacred that is to a girl”
When she wasn’t calling me Greek, she was calling me Kar. Fiona was the only one I allowed to call me that. Charlie was after all a nickname. One that I made sure everyone thought was my real name of course. Not that I didn’t like my real name, it was just a little weird. It's not every day you meet a boy named Karolos. Though to be fair it was the Greek equivalent of Charles. It just wasn’t a name one often heard outside of Greece. I wasn’t ashamed of it. It was my great grandfather’s name. I just didn’t want the same ridicule I got when I first started elementary school.
Fiona thought it was the coolest, though. She asked if she could call me Kar and of course, I said yes. It was hard to say No to her.
“I’m gonna ask around as soon as I start school”
“When is that?”
“Wednesday I think”
Fiona sighed. “This sucks”
“Tell me about it”
“I want you here with me.”
“I want to be there with you”
More than she knew. I was hoping Dad would come to his senses soon and take us back home. The odds of that happening were pretty slim but there was always a chance.
“Hey, have you talked to your parents about this summer yet?”
Right before I left, Fiona and I decided we weren’t going to let living on the other sides of the country ruin our friendship. So we came up with this plan. Depending on who could convince who first, one of us would travel either East or West and spend the summer with the other. It was a long shot of course but I didn’t want to lose her.
The look on Fiona’s face wasn’t promising.
“They’re not really keen on me spending the summer with a boy”
“Oh”
I’d forgotten about that little tidbit.
“We’ll think of something, though,” she said with a big reassuring smile.
My Fiona, always the Optimist.
We talked a little more about a variety of things, most of them pertaining to her life. I asked about her friends, about Doug of course. I wanted to know everything going on back home because I didn’t want to forget it. I couldn’t forget it. The more we talked, the more I realized I was really home sick. Thinking about it only hurt more. After about forty minutes or so, the conversation kinda got sour. We said our goodbyes then I closed up my laptop.
“Everything ok?” asked Dad.
I’m sure he was trying not to pry but it was hard not too, what with sitting next to me and all.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure really”
“You two are still friends right?”
“For now I guess. We were going to try getting together over the summer but her parents don’t want her staying with a boy”
“That’s tough. If it's any consolation, we have a spare room in the house”
I suppose there was that. Why wasn’t I happier about it, though? I mean I’d bring it up with her when we talked again tomorrow but I wasn’t very hopeful. I liked her parents but they were pretty strict. Plus they thought I was a distraction too. To them, Fiona should be concentrating only on skating. Not that I was actually distracting her from it, they just felt like I was. Now their daughter was giving something 99% instead of the full 100 like they wanted. It was kinda stupid but I couldn’t really fault them either. If I had a daughter and if she was passionate about something like Fiona was, I’d want her to give it her all too.
I tried not to think about it.
“Hey look at that!” said Dad happily.
I looked and saw. It was one of those green road signs, you know the ones that told you how far you were from a place.
Whisper Pines ½ Mile.
So we were finally here.
Our New Home.
Great.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Sara, it's not that bad”
“Really?” she said, pointing. “Dad that place is selling cassette tapes”
I looked to where she was pointing and sure enough, the sign did say they had all the latest cassettes. That wasn’t what worried me, though. What worried me were the lack of people or rather the lack of men. We’d only been in the town proper for about ten minutes and so far I’d only seen two men walking the streets. The rest were all women. Not that was a problem I suppose but it was kind of weird. Weirder than that though was the town itself. It was pretty small. My vague memories of this place were just that vague. I couldn’t really remember much about the town from when I was five. All I could really remember was grandpa’s farm and his big, welcoming house.
Most everything else was a blur.
It was hard not to be.
There was only one main road leading into the town itself. We’d been on it since we arrived. It was a pretty wide street, though, on either side were small Mom and Pop stores. They were kind of quaint if you liked that sorta thing. They weren’t the only places, though---I spotted a small church, an old-fashioned movie theater, and a small town hall. The largest building had to be the library which was directly across from the town center, a large gazebo smack dab in the middle of a turn-about. That was pretty much it for the main road too. I could see two roads branching off of it though so there was some promise there.
It felt like we were being blasted into the past.
It was all very old fashion and happy.
All the buildings were brightly painted in pastels and every hedge was cut to look the same. Even the flowers looked happy. If that was even possible. It was like that movie Pleasantville. The only thing that told me we were in fact in the year 2017 were the people. They were dressed like normal ones. Not some crazy Stepford-like pod people I was expecting from the look of the town. It didn’t seem a little odd, though. All the people looked very fit, like Dad, even the women. Ok so they weren’t like body builder grotesque or anything like that but it was clear they exercised a lot.
Dad finally stopped the car near a quaint Colonial looking building. A sign hanging above the porch told me it was the Bovine Delights Bed and Breakfast. Wow. There was an even a smiling caricature of a cartoon cow on the sign. Looking about, I noticed it wasn’t the only place that seemed strangely cow themed. There was a large bronze cow statue right in front of that gazebo.
This place was obsessed.
“What’s going on?” asked Sara, giving the place a weary look.
“The moving van has been delayed”
We both groaned.
“Tell me we’re not staying here!”
“Afraid so, kiddo”
“Dad, the bright colors literally make me want to puke”
“Then sleep in the car,” he said as he opened his door.
Sara let out an aggravated half huff, half scream.
I felt the same.
“I think Dad has lost his God Damn mind” she mumbled as we both got out of the car.
I nodded. “Let’s hope it's not contagious”
Sara laughed. I couldn’t help but smile at that, I couldn’t remember the last time the two of us made one another laugh. She ran ahead of me toward the B&B, I followed closely on her heels. She was through the door by the time I got there and I could hear her groan from the other side of it. That wasn’t promising. Stepping into the building myself, I could see why Sara felt the need to express her displeasure. Someone had taken the cow theme and gone overboard it. There were cow knickknacks and stuff animals all over the place. Now to mention the cow themed paintings on the walls, the cow cushions on all the chairs, even the sign in desk was painted to look like a cow. It was absolutely ridiculous.
“Gag worthy” whispered Sara.
Not soft enough because Dad shot her a nasty glare.
A moment later, a woman appeared from a doorway behind the desk.
She was a knockout.
About Dad’s age, tall with long silky black hair. She was just as fit looking at the women I’d seen walking about and her smile, it was enchanting. Her most dominate feature though were her eyes, I’d never seen eyes that green before. When she walked, I could hear the clack of her heels. I looked to Sara and even she seemed to be blown away by the vision before us.
“Welcome,” she said in a pleasant voice. “This is The Bovine Delight, my name is Rebecca Collins, how can I help you this fine afternoon?”
“I’m Costas Kanenas, I believe we spoke on the phone”
Her face lit up. “Oh of course. How foolish of me. It's a real pleasure to finally meet you in person”
The way she said “real pleasure”, made me roll my eyes.
Dad always had that effect on women. It got tiresome fast.
I watched Dad, waiting for his reaction. He smiled but I could tell he wasn’t into her. Besides, she was clearly too blind to see that Dad was still wearing his wedding ring. What kind of woman hits on a married man?
She turned to us. “These most be your children. My what lovely daughters you have”
Sara scoffed, Dad pinched his nose and shook his head.
She looked from him to us and back to him.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“I’m his son,” I said, speaking up.
She looked at me and frowned. “I’m sorry dear, it's the hair and...”
“I get it all the time,” I said interrupting quickly.
I didn’t need some stranger pointing out my flaws.
Rebecca looked ready to say more but stopped before she did. I’m not sure I liked her, to be honest. Sure she was gorgeous and she seemed kind but there was something else there. Something about her that bothered me. She was too nice. Maybe I was just overreacting because of her one-sided interest in my father but there was more. It was the way she kept looking at me and Sara. I didn’t like it. It was almost as if she was already planning ahead for the future, sizing us up for things she might be able to change.
Dad seemed to sense something as well because he broke whatever tension might have been building.
“I don’t mean to sound rude or anything but we’ve had a long trip and I was wondering…”
“Oh yes of course,” she said with a giddy laugh, putting her hand gently on Dad’s arm. “Let me show you to your room personally”
“What about us?”
Sara seemed to sense her interests as well.
“Oh yes,” she said, waving her hand. “Connie!”
I heard the slow approach of footfall. A moment later, someone came running down the stairs. Time seemed to stand still as the girl reached the bottom of the stairs. There was no doubt about the fact that she and Rebecca Collins were related. They both had the same long black hair and those piercing green eyes. The best part was she appeared to be my age as well. Well maybe a bit older, she was a little more developed than most girls my age after all. Her jeans hung to her curves quite nicely, though. I’m sure if I’d been lucky enough to go through puberty, something below would have been stirring.
“This is Connie, my daughter” Rebecca put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Connie, be a dear and show these two to our best rooms”
“Sure Mom,” she said, all bright and cheery.
I could almost hear Sara groan. I knew what she thought of the perky ones.
I couldn’t help but smile because this was going to be amusing.
“Follow me,” she said, turning and walking toward the stairs she just came down.
My sister and I followed without hesitation. We didn’t have anything else to do. I did manage to look back and see her mother slip her arm through my father’s, leading him off to parts unknown. Something about it pissed me off. I’m not sure why I was so mad she was trying to wrangle in my father. He was a grown man, after all, he was free to make his own decisions. I just couldn’t get over the fact that he was married or rather had been four months ago. It felt like he was dishonoring my mother’s memory or something.
I turned in annoyance, following the two girls.
On the second floor, we stopped for a quick moment as Sara asked some nonsense question. I took the time to take the bottle of mountain dew out of my pack. I was taking a sip when Sara asked a question I was interested in:
“How old are you anyway?”
It was a bit rude but I wasn’t going to chastise her for it because well I was curious too.
Sara just didn’t have any manners.
Connie didn’t skip a beat though when she answered: “Fourteen”
I almost spit the mountain dew all over the back of her head.
Fourteen? There was no way!
“With boobs like those?” asked Sara, grabbing at the tiny bumps on her own chest.
Connie laughed. “What can I saw. Milk does the body good”
“Milk did that?”
Connie laughed again. “Of course not. It's genetics”
Connie started to talk about something science related. I only half paid attention because well science was never my strong suit. Sara seemed to hang on her every word, though. Boobs were important to my little sister and any advice on how to grow them faster, she was all ears.
They were finished by the time Connie in front of a door.
“Here’s one of the rooms,” she said, opening the door.
My sister and I both took a look inside.
It was pretty sparse. It had a bed and a dresser. There was a door I suspected to a closet and a single window. The whole room was decorated in a pale yellow. It looked pretty gender neutral. I suppose if I had too, I could stay in there for a couple of days. I also noticed a desk in the far corner. It was perfect for my laptop. Connie didn’t say anything. She led us to the next room down and opened that door too. Taking a peek inside, I nearly gagged. It looked identical to the last room but it was pink. I’m not talking about a normal pink either, this was like bubble gum pink. There was a lot of frill and lace too. Clearly, this room was meant for a five-year-old or something. I almost gagged, I think I heard Sara actually making the sound.
“Oh c’mon it's not that bad,” said Connie, stepping into the room. “See, I fit in just fine”
“Yeah but you’re a girly girl”
Connie fake pouted. “And what’s wrong with that?”
Sara didn’t have an answer. She did have a solution, though:
“The yellow room is mine!”
She quickly bolted out of the room and I heard the door slam before I could even react. I cursed. The little traitor probably had the door locked already too.
“Well then,” said Connie with a big smile. “I guess this is your room”
Yay me.
“I think if I wear sunglasses, it won’t be so bad”
Connie rolled her eyes.
“What a pretty girl like you afraid of a little pink?”
I groaned. Not her too.
“I’m a boy,” I said miserably.
I was getting tired of people in this town mistaking me for a girl.
The look of shock on Connie’s face was priceless.
“You can’t be...I mean...the hair and the body...”
I shook my head. “I’ve heard it all before. Boys can have longish hair and my body well let’s just say I’m a little late in development”
Connie just stared at me for a few minutes but shaking her head.
“Well I guess I’ll leave you alone for a bit then,” she said and started for the door, she stopped before leaving, though. “Dinner is at six, I’ll come get you then”
I thanked her then she left.
Finally, alone, I couldn’t help but groan as I looked around the room. How could there be this much pink fabric in the whole world? Trying not to think about it, I walked over to the bed and dropped my pack on it. Opening it up, I rifled through to find my stash of comics there. I bought several for the trip but then I remembered I had a hell of a time reading in the car. Now that we weren’t moving, I could finally catch up on some well-needed reading.
I dropped on the bed and got to it. The bed spread and pillow were surprisingly comfortable. I was about halfway through my third comic when my eyelids started to feel heavy. Before I knew it, Connie was shaking me awake. Confused for a moment, she giggled.
“I think you fell asleep,” she said, taking the comic from my chest. “Oh Dark Avenger, I’ve seen those movies”
I groaned. “They hardly do the comics justice sadly”
She shrugged. “They were pretty cool to me”
She smiled at me afterward. She had a great smile. Not quite as good as Fiona’s but pretty darn close.
She told me dinner was ready now. I followed her downstairs to find her mother and my family already at the table. There was another person there as well, an older man who seemed engrossed in his newspaper. Rebecca called him “Dad” and told him they had guests. I watched as Mr. Collins lowered his paper and looked at Connie and I as we walked into the room. He huffed and went back to reading his paper. His daughter apologized and then everyone quickly started to eat. No one said Grace I noticed. Not that I was complaining, to be honest. Not that we weren’t religious, we just didn’t really do the whole church thing much. My parents were always too busy on Sundays and it was always a bother to go by yourself.
We did go to the church for Mom’s funeral, though.
I tried not to think about it as I concerned on dinner: Meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Another nice home cooked meal. I noticed that Sara and Dad weren’t complaining. I also noticed that the adults were drinking wine while us kids were either drinking pop---in Sara’s case---or milk in my case. Connie had a glass as well I noticed. Taking a sip, I noticed it was more Whisper Meadows. Well, when in Rome I suppose.
Dinner was a fairly quiet affair.
Rebecca had a lot of questions, mainly for Dad I noticed. She wanted to know about where we were from and why we moved. I tuned out Dad talking about Mom and quitting his job. I also ignored most of his speech about wanting to start over somewhere different. He mentioned something about touring grandpa’s dairy tomorrow but I wasn’t really paying attention. I did pay attention to Rebecca though. While she was still flirty, most of her advances had dwindled since finding out Dad had only been a Widower for four months.
Served her right.
Dinner ended just as quickly as it started, though.
“I want you two to head to bed now” Dad announced as Connie collected the plates. “We need to get up bright and early tomorrow”
Sara groaned. “You’re kidding right?”
Dad gave her a look.
“Go now,” he said, pointing to the stairs.
Sara huffed and crossed her arms as she marched out of the room.
I watched her go but didn’t need to be told to leave. Even with the quick four nap from earlier, I was actually still pretty tired. Thankfully I was awake enough to make it back to my room. I had just about closed the door when there was a knock on it. Opening it up, I found Connie standing there with some folded clothes in her arms.
“What’s this?”
“Your sister told me your secret,” she said with a smile.
“What secret?”
“You pretending to be a boy, of course, silly,” she said with a playful shove of my arm. “You had me fooled there for a second”
I was going to kill Sara.
“Oh she also told me how all your PJs are packed away in boxes, so I took the liberty of bringing you some of mine. We look to be about the same size”
She held out the folded clothes to me. I took them with a quiet thank you.
“I’m really tired now, I’m going to lie down and try to catch up on some well-needed rest”
Ok, night Karrie”
Karrie? Who the hell was Karrie?
Connie smiled and started down the hall. I watched her go then saw Sara’s head peaking around her door, snickering.
Oh God, she was definitely going to get hers.
I closed my door and carried the PJs over to my bed. Unfolding them, I groaned. A pale lavender cami and bed pants.
Sara was definitely dead tomorrow.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's Note: Its Monday again, time for another update. I wasn't sure if I was going to get this one up this week or not, what with all the fun I've been having. Check out my latest two blogs if you're interested. Thankfully everything in my personal life seems to be ok at the moment. Its a good thing I have plenty of these chapters already written lol. As for the story itself, we get to meet some new characters, an old friend and more set up for the tale to come. I promise the story will start to pick up. I'd once again like to thank ashleigh for editing this tale for me :).
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3.
Morning came too bright and too early.
Someone was knocking loudly on my door. I tried to ignore it by rolling over and covering my head with my pillow. The knocking continued, though. Groaning, I finally threw off my covers to investigate. Opening the door I found Dad standing there. He took one look at my sleeping attire and made a face.
“What are you wearing?”
“Good morning to you too, Dad.”
He scratched the back of his head. “Ummm...is there something you want to...”
I interrupted him. “Sara told Connie I was just pretending to be a boy. So Connie brought me some of her things to wear to bed. Seeing as I didn’t have anything else, I wore the pants.”
“And the room?” asked dad, looking around, noticeably shielding his eyes.
“Sara again.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
I nodded. “Good luck with that.”
Between my parents, Dad was always the bigger push over. Especially when it came to Sara. Sure she listened to him when he scolded her for complaining and what not. When it came to everything else, though, Sara had him wrapped around her little finger. That is of course when he was actually around. The two of them had a different relationship than the one Dad and I had too. Dad was big into sports, especially soccer. Me not so much. Not for lack of trying, though. Besides going to the occasional ball game with him, he tried to get me to kick the ball around the yard with him or shoot some hoops. I was just never really into it, to be honest. With Sara, it was different, though. I think she wanted desperately to get my father’s attention so she did all the things with him that he wanted to do with me. She was really good at them too, especially volleyball. I’m not really sure how it happened but my sister became the son he always wanted.
While also being his daughter as well.
It was like Sara had taken both roles.
I’m not even sure what that made me.
“Well the shower is free right now,” he said, turning away from the room probably to keep from puking. “So I’d take one in a hurry, we’re leaving in about thirty minutes.”
I nodded, anything to get out of these pants and this room.
Dad left after that. I waited for him to leave before I left as well. I wandered down the hall, peeking into open doorways to try and find the bathroom. I found it as Sara was stepping out, wearing fluffy white bath robe.
“Whoa, nice pants bros,” she said with a laugh. “They really bring out the color of your eyes.”
I gave her the finger. It was just too damn early to trade barbs with her.
Thankfully there was no one else around to comment about my attire. I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Feeling safe for once, I finally let out a sigh. I walked to the toilet to take care of some morning business then to the sink to wash my hands. As I was washing them, I couldn’t help but look in the mirror. The sight there made me frown. I saw an overly skinny pale kid wearing a pair of girl pants. At home, I usually slept in a pair of bed pants of my own and an old t-shirt. I hated to admit it but these pants were a hundred times more comfortable. Not that I’d ever go out of my way to wear them again of course.
Groaning at the thought, I quickly stripped out of them.
Then I stepped into the shower. I closed my eyes as I turned on the water and let it cascade over me.
When I was younger, I couldn’t even get this close to water.
I used to have this overwhelming fear of it. I’m not even sure where it came from, though. I never almost drown or anything like that. My mother said ever since I was a baby, I used to freak out near the water. I would scream and cry and kick to get away from it. She actually had to give me sponge baths because she could never get me into the tub. It was only things filled with water, though. She was able to wash my hands and scrub me down with wash clothes and sponges. As I got older, though, my aversion to it went away. Sure I still didn’t care for swimming all that much and I never took baths. But I was no longer afraid of it.
Sara used to tease me about it from time to time.
Especially around the large in ground pool, we had back at home.
Well used to have in our former home.
If anything, the shower was pretty refreshing.
It only took me about ten minutes too.
I had enough time to run back to my room and get quickly dressed, toweling off the whole time.
Downstairs, everyone was sitting around the table again. This time it was breakfast. Sara gave me a knowing smirk, Connie frowned.
“You've dressed like a boy again.”
“I am a boy.”
“Ok so you might be a bit tomboyish but there’s no way you’re a boy.”
“Of course he is sweetie.”
“No, Sara said...”
Dad glared at Sara. I saw my sister look like a deer caught in headlights but it wasn’t enough. I sat down at the table and grabbed the salt before she could. Rebecca placed a plate a bacon and scrambled eggs in front of me. I added some salt and quickly---without Sara noticing---I twisted loose the top of the shaker. Then passed it her way. I hid my knowing smile as she shook it on her eggs and the top popped off, pouring the whole thing all over her breakfast.
“You son of a...” she snapped at me.
Dad interrupted her before she could finish, though. “That’s enough from you young lady!” he snapped then quickly apologized to Rebecca before turning to me. “You, you’re old enough to know better.”
“She started it.”
“No, you did with that bottle of pee in the car.”
Well, she had me there.
“Well I’m ending it,” he said and looked back at Sara. “When we get back from the dairy, you are giving your brother the yellow room, you will take the pink room then you’re going to apologize to everyone for misleading them with your stupid, childish pranks.”
Connie looked at me and I nodded.
Her face turned red with embarrassment.
Sara looked as if someone took the air out of her tires.
Served her right.
Breakfast after that was a pretty quiet affair. Sara was pissed, Connie was still embarrassed, Dad looked annoyed. Only Rebecca looked as if she didn’t know what was going on. Her father just sat, reading his paper as usual as if nothing happened. Me, I was satisfied. Sara got what was coming to her but honestly, it wasn’t enough. She’d been messing with me all day yesterday, a scolding from Dad wasn’t enough to settle that. I looked over at Connie and smiled.
When breakfast ended, we all started to file toward the door. Dad wanted to get to the dairy on time.
Connie stopped me. “I feel really bad about...well...you know.”
“It's nothing new. Everyone thinks I’m a girl.”
“I want to make it up to you, though,” she said with a smile. “How about after your dairy tour, you’d let me give you and your sister a tour of the town, show you all the places and things?”
I nodded. “On one condition. I want some revenge against Sara.”
Connie smiled slyly. “What did you have in mind?”
I smirked. “I think maybe you could help my sister embrace her inner girl.”
Connie looked confused for a moment then I saw a tiny light bulb go off in that head of hers.
She looked at Sara and smiled. “I think that can be arranged.”
Excellent.
“C’mon you two, your grandparents are waiting.”
Connie grabbed me and pulled me into a quick hug before we went to the car. I was a bit confused, to say the least. The only girl that had ever hugged me---besides family---had been Fiona. The girl I was still in love with. Looking back at Connie, I’d be a liar if I didn’t say she was pretty but she was no Fiona. I smiled weakly at her before getting into the car.
I think maybe when I talked to Fi tonight, I’d leave the hug out of it.
The drive to my grandparent’s farm took us through the rest of town.
Connie had promised to give Sara and I a tour but I couldn’t help but feel we’d sadly seen everything there was to offer now. After leaving the main road that went straight through the town proper, we took one of the side roads. Here we saw several other little Mom and Pop shops, the Fire Hall and Police station and the elementary/middle school/ high school across the street from that. I paid careful attention to the building actually because it was a lot smaller than the one back home. It was hard to believe every kid in the town went to one school and it was that size.
From there it was houses, some clumped together but most of them alone. Then it was more farmland. There were at least three farms along the way it seemed.
As we drove on, things started to look a little familiar.
I spotted a water tower that I knew I’d seen before and beyond that a large tree in the middle of an empty field. The tree was very old and looked foreboding. Like the Whomping Willow from the Harry Potter books. I think I might have climbed that tree the last time I was here. Past the tree, we had the first signs of civilization again. First, it was the fence then it was the farm itself. As we got closer, the barns and the house slowly came into view. Old memories started coming back. Memories of a warm and inviting place, of baked cookies and pies, of smiling people happy to see me. Also memories of Mom. I found myself wiping away a tear or two as we got closer.
“Is that it?” asked Sara, excitedly.
I couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited for anything.
“That’s it,” said Dad as our Accent approached the front of the house.
Grandpa and Grandma Miller lived on the largest farm in the town. Well, that was a given of course. Their house was a giant farmhouse, painted blue with white shutters. There was a large oak in the yard with a tire swing. Beyond the house were the barns---there were three---next to those were the nursery pens. It was all starting to come back to me as I saw it with my own eyes again.
On the front porch waiting for us were my grandparents.
Sara and I rarely got to see them in person these days.
The last time they were in Portland was a couple of years ago for Christmas. They were always too busy with the Dairy to do much traveling. The same could be said for Mom and Dad I suppose. Especially Dad. Work always seemed to be more important to him than family. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d seen Grandpa and Grandma Kanenas.
Grandpa Miller approached the car as we stopped. He always told us to call him Grandpa Hank but we always ended up just calling him Pop. He looked like a Pop too. He was a tall man with broad shoulder not unlike my father actually. That was the only similarity, though. Pop had a thick white beard that he kept well trimmed and his hair was slicked back, looking ever the professional. The only thing that told me he was related to my mother though were his eyes, blue like hers and mine. Today Pop was dressed for business, in a crisp suit. Usually, though he wore a plain shirt and jeans. Ever the farmer, I knew he hated dressing up.
Behind him, Grandma Judy came walking up.
She looked like my mother.
A little too much for my liking at the moment.
Thin and pale, her light blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She had my mother’s eyes as well but they were pale like mine. She smiled and waved.
Looking at her, I missed Mom so much it ached.
Grandma was the first to hug us when we got out of the car. She grabbed Sara first, pulling her in before she could react. Then it was me. For such a small, thin woman, Grandma had a bear-like, bone crushing hug. When she finally let me go, she fluffed up the ends of my hair a bit.
“Charlie, I hardly recognized you,” she said with a laugh. “You’ve gotten so tall and this hair...”
“I’m trying to get him to cut it, Judy,” said Dad with a laugh.
“Nonsense. I think it makes him look unique” said grandma with a smile.
Pop hugged us next or rather Sara. He shook my hand instead.
Pop was the kind of man who believed boys didn’t need as much coddling as girls.
“I think I agree with Costas my dear, the boy is starting to look a bit girly.”
“You pay little attention to them,” said grandma, scowling at her husband.
Pop was all about tough love too. My mother used to talk about it a lot. Not that he wasn’t a loving father, she said he was great. He just seemed to dote more on her and her sister Grace then he did his son, my uncle, Kurt. Not that it really mattered much anymore. Uncle Kurt was the only one who decided to stick around. Pop was even grooming him to take over the business one day. My Aunt Grace was probably in the Andes or climbing Everest or something. She and Mom shared that same adventurous spirit. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen her in person. She emailed from time to time, sent the occasional postcard. Every once in a while I even got a birthday card from her.
“Now Costas, what’s this I hear about you staying at the Bovine Delights in town?”
Dad seemed to cave under Grandma’s gaze.
“I didn’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense,” said Grandma “We have plenty of room here. Until your things arrive, you and the kids will be staying with us.”
Yes, thank you, Grandma.
No more gag me pink rooms.
No more awkward Connie moments.
Grandma led Sara and me toward the house. Pop and Dad stayed near the car. I could hear the two of them talking business, something I wasn’t really keen to hear. I wanted to be with grandma anyway. After Mom, I just wanted to be close to something motherly. Grandma was the closest thing to my mother I was going to get.
Inside the house, I couldn’t help but get struck by the familiar again.
First, it was the smell, lilacs, and cinnamon.
Then it was the furnishings. Everything looked exactly the same. The living room was off to the left, the dining room off to the right. The main entry way led toward the kitchen, the downstairs bathroom was off of that. The stairs were just off the entryway, leading from the living room to the second floor where I knew there were three more rooms: my grandparents, the one that used to belong to my uncle and the one my mother used to share with Grace. There was also a bathroom up there as well. Say what I will but I missed this place just as much as home.
Walking slowly into the living room, I noticed the mantle above the fireplace was covered in framed photos. Grandma and Grandpa on their honeymoon, Mom in her cap and gown, her siblings in the same, Mom’s wedding, Uncle Kurt’s wedding. There were other pictures too, mainly of Sara and I. I did notice a few of our cousins too---Uncle Kurt’s kids. I’d completely forgotten about Craig and Catherine. Mostly because they were a bunch of snobs. Twins and my age. They walked about like they owned the place and as far as they were concerned they did.
Grandma saw me sneering at a picture of the two of them, sitting and smiling.
“None of that,” she said “they’re good kids.”
I wanted to comment but kept my mouth shut.
“Now let’s go to the kitchen, I made some cookies. We can eat while we wait for the older men folk.”
I didn’t have to be told twice.
Sara and I happily followed Grandma into the kitchen. I didn’t get all that far though before I was nearly bowled over by a charging mass of black fur and barking.
I was on my back before I knew it, the large dog on top of me. He proceeded to whine and lick my face, alternating between the two.
Oh my God Argos.
I couldn’t believe he was still around.
He was my dog.
When I came here all those years ago, my grandparents wanted to surprise me with something special. So they took me a friend of Pop's whose dog just had puppies. Dad wasn’t too happy, though. He was allergic to dogs and well didn’t really like them much. Grandma overruled him though like she often did. Mom just found the whole thing humorous. We named him Argos because he was a little black bundle of energy. Also because well we thought by naming him after the dog of a Greek hero that Dad would relent. He didn’t so Pop agreed to keep him here for when I visited. Of course, that never happened again and I’d completely forgotten about him.
So maybe not forgotten. I cried for days.
I just thought by now he was long gone.
Here he was, though. Still alive and still as energetic as ever.
“Off boy,” I said and he dutifully obeyed. “Good boy Argos.”
Sara looked at him wearily. “I didn’t know you had a dog, Grandma?”
“Oh I don’t,” she said with a smile. “That’s your brother’s dog.”
“Wait, we have a dog!” she asked, excitedly.
“I have a dog.”
I was on the floor, Argos sitting next to me.
He was a large black German Shepherd, still solid and regal after all these years. Unlike Odysseus and his faithful and tragic hound, there was no sign of age at all. It was hard to believe actually. He was a puppy when I left so he was clearly nine or so now. To look at him, though, you would swear he was four or five at the most. Sure he was a great deal bigger than I remembered but the way he knocked me over it was like he was definitely not acting his age.
Dad came into the house a moment later. He paused when he saw me sitting on the floor with the dog.
“That thing is still alive?” he asked, clearly annoyed.
“That thing,” said Pop, coming up beside him. “Is the best damn hunting dog in the county. You know I think he knew you were coming, he’s been sitting there patiently waiting, for a couple of days now.”
Just like Argos.
I stood up and went into the kitchen. Argos followed closely by my side.
I had to admit, I was feeling pretty lousy about this whole moving here thing. Had I remembered Argos though, I might not have felt as bad. In fact, I would have been anticipating coming here.
I sat at the table and he sat right there, the constant sentinel.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Grandma, looking between Pop and Dad.
“Well, I figured I’d give them the local tour first then we’d get in one of the company cars and go to the main dairy.”
I’d forgotten this place was pretty much just for the tourists.
It was a Dairy sure but it wasn’t the real one. Well, it might have been at one time but the main facility was actually outside of town. It was large, made of concrete and several buildings altogether. It was where they turned the cow’s milk into cartoned milk and other dairy products. This farm was here for appearances. I didn’t really understand it all, to be honest. All I knew was that I didn’t really want to go on the tour of the big facility. It sounded kind of dull and boring. I don’t think Sara was too keen on it either. This whole tour thing was mainly for Dad anyway.
“We don’t have to go to the big facility, do we?”
It was actually Sara who asked.
“Don’t you want to see where I’m gonna be working?”
Sara shrugged. “I’m not six Dad. I don’t really get excited about those kind of things.”
“I’m with her,” I said. “I thought maybe I’d just stick around here, maybe hang out with Argos or something?”
Neither Dad or Pop argued.
So it was settled.
Sara and I were skipping the factory tour.
Thank the Gods.
That, of course, didn’t stop Pop from taking us on the “Elementary School Tour” as he liked to call it. I was expecting that to be boring as well but it was actually pretty fun. He took us around the farm yard proper then into the barns. He showed us where the cows stayed and where the calf nursery. He took us into the milking barns and things like that. He ended the tour at the Milk house where the milk was stored before being sent off to the big facility to be processed. All in all the farm tour took a little under two hours to finish. We ended it right back where we started, on the front porch of the house.
“What did you think?” Pop asked Sara.
She shrugged. “Neat.”
She was clearly disinterested.
I figured she would be. This place was not Sara’s idea of living. Much like my snobby cousins, Sara preferred the big city.
Dad and Pop left shortly after, leaving Sara and me alone with Grandma.
“Now then Saina,” said Grandma, looking at my sister. “Why don’t you and I wash these dishes, while your brother takes Argos out to do his business.”
Sara groaned for more than one reason. One, I knew she hated to do chores and two because Grandma had used her real name. Sara hated being called Saina. I used to do it to her just to tick her off but honestly, it got tiring a long time ago. In fact, most of the time I forgot that Sara was actually her middle name. You see my parents gave us both Greek names, to honor my father’s family and traditions. We had normal middle names, though---mine was David.
I left the two women in the kitchen and went out the back door.
Argos followed on my heels.
As soon as I was out the door, he took off. He didn’t go far, over to one of the trees beyond the house. I let him pee while I went wandering. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d took a breath of really fresh air. Sure the air at home was fresh but it was nothing like this. Mind you, breathing here was pretty hard because of the proximity to the cows. I won’t lie, it smelled really bad here. At the same time, though, the air was kind of refreshing too. Not only that but the sky seemed clearer and almost bluer here. Looking up at the clouds I couldn’t help but feel at peace. It was a strange feeling. I’d only been here for a short period time, a long time ago and yet I felt like I’d never left.
Even stranger, I felt like I almost belonged.
I tried to shake the feeling and looked over at the cows. There was a large outside pen for them to graze when they weren’t milking. We saw it briefly on Pop’s tour. Argos was sniffing around one of the fence posts. I walked over to see what caught his interest so much. As I got closer, I caught sight of a familiar cow. Sure they all looked the same but I’d definitely seen this one before. I recognized her bright blue hooves after all. I grabbed a clump of grass and coaxed her over.
The cow absently wandered her way over.
She took the grass, standing close so I could pat her on the head.
As I was patting her, I noticed something strange. Her blue eyes from before were gone. In their place was the same muddy brown of every other cow. Had I been mistaken before? Was I mistaken now? I bent to look down at her hooves, no they were definitely still blue. Though a lot of the nail polish was starting to chip away. I looked over at some of the other cows, wondering if maybe it was a way Pop’s marked them. But nope, no other cow had blue hooves.
This was the same cow.
How was that possible?
“That’s our little runaway,” said a voice as someone approached from behind.
I turned and found myself staring at a tall boy. He was wearing a white tank top, jeans, and leather work gloves. His skin nicely tanned, his muscles bulging. He was wearing a Yankees cap but what hair I saw was brown and his eyes seemed to match. Something about him seemed familiar, though.
“Yeah, I saw her yesterday at the rest stop on the way into town,” I said, still patting the cow on her head.
The boy laughed. “She was a weird one that’s for sure. I can’t even tell you how she got out that far, though.”
“Was she one of yours?”
He nodded. He reached up and touched something in the cow’s ear. “That’s our tag. She had it when we found her. Damnest thing, though, we were pretty sure all of them were accounted for.”
I kept looking at him, wondering where I’d seen him before.
“I’m Lucas by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Charlie,” I said, shaking it.
God, he had a strong grip. It made me feel like a real wimp.
“Oh you’re Mr. Miller’s grandson,” he said, I nodded. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Sorta.”
He laughed. “I live on the farm down the road. You and my little brother Rex were friends while you were here.”
I shook my head. None of it rang a bell. I mean his face looked vaguely familiar but that was about it.
“Well, Rex will remember you. He’s got this thing about not forgetting faces.”
I was about to say something more when Sara and Grandma came out of the house. Sara noticed Lucas immediately and practically ran to me. She introduced herself and practically pushed me out of the way. I rolled my eyes. There she goes again. I stepped away, though, done with the conversation anyways.
“Oh I see you’re bonding with our little deserter,” said Grandma with a laugh, noticing me still feeding the cow.
“I saw her at the diner.”
She nodded. “Terri called me shortly after you left. She was absolutely gushing about my two beautiful granddaughters.”
I fingered my hair. “I think I need to find a barber.”
Grandma chuckled. "Its not so bad honey. It's just boys around here tend to keep their hair short, like young Lucas over there.”
I nodded, still feeding the cow. Then I remembered the eyes.
“Hey Grandma, do cow eyes usually change colors?”
She gave me a strange look. “Cow’s eyes are usually brown sweetie.”
I nodded. “I know but yesterday, this cow had bright blue eyes.”
Grandma laughed. “It's called being walled eye but you’re mistaken. This one has brown eyes. They can’t change back and forth.”
She might be right but I definitely was not mistaken. I could swear this cow had blue eyes yesterday.
“It's weird because I could have sworn she had blue eyes before?”
“Sometimes the light out here plays tricks on the eyes.”
Maybe.
“So how are you doing? I know with your mother’s death and the move, things can’t have been easy. I tried talking to your sister about it a little bit but “Everything is fine” to her.”
That sounded like Sara. Nothing was ever wrong when Sara was involved.
Even after the funeral, Everything was Fine.
I shrugged. I didn’t really know what to say, to be honest.
After the accident, Dad thought a therapist might help. So he started taking us to one every week. Dr. Holmes was a nice woman but I don’t think she really got me. She did pretty well with the family sessions but once she got me one on one, she didn’t really ask about Mom. Most of her questions were about girls and the way I saw myself. I think the doctor---like most others---saw my appearance and jumped to conclusions. When I told Dad about her questions, he wasn’t too happy that the woman was making assumptions. We stopped going to see her after that. The ironic thing about it was, she never really ever got around to asking me how I felt about losing Mom.
“It's easier now” I finally admitted to my grandmother. “After it happened, things were different. I think we were all pretty numb you know.” I sighed, grandma looked sad. “I couldn’t go into her room. I tried but every time I approached the door to Mom and Dad’s room, I couldn’t bring myself to step inside. Is that weird?”
Grandma shook her head then pulled me into a hug.
She held me a long time. I think she might have even cried a bit. I wanted to cry too but nothing seemed to come out.
When she finally let me go, she wiped her cheeks.
I forgot that I wasn’t the only one who lost someone. Mom was her daughter. I think Grandma was hurting even more because she and Pop couldn’t make it to the funeral. Dad had offered to fly them out but this time of the year was really busy for the dairy. They sent a large flower arrangement though and paid for the whole thing. Uncle Kurt managed to come, though, alone of course. Mom and Aunt Polly never really got along much. Polly hated Sara and me too. It was all about money to her. Pop made it very clear that the Dairy was to be split between his three children. Grace being the carefree spirit she was, declined. So it was then split fifty-fifty between Mom and Kurt. With Mom gone, her half went to Sara and me.
I don’t think Aunt Polly liked that very much.
“So tell me about this Fiona then?” said Grandma, trying to lighten the mood.
So I did. I took out my cell, showing her several pictures the two of us together. Including the ones, we took right before I left. Doug was there too of course. Grandma asked about him as well. We sat and talked about my friends and my life back in Portland for about twenty minutes. It was kind of nice actually. I lost track of time talking to her. So much so that I didn’t even hear Dad and Pop come back.
“You guys really missed something,” said Dad, after taking a sip from a small carton of milk.
Pop was holding one as well.
“Was she there?”
The way Grandma said “She”, it was clear whoever she was talking about was someone on her radar. Not in a good way either.
Pop shook his head. “Yes, she was. She’s a researcher Judy, she’s doing research.”
‘Uh huh” said Grandma, straightening up with a huff.
I looked from her to Pop and back. Grandma said nothing more and started back toward the house.
“Adult business,” said Pop, ruffled my hair as he walked past me.
I rolled my eyes.
Pop was so old fashion.
I looked at Dad. “There’s some Animal Husbandry expert from the university here. Your grandfather is allowing her and her team to set up shop at the dairy. Your grandparents are not in agreement over it. I met the woman, Dr. Clarke seems like a nice capable person.”
I was confused. What could a researcher want with a dairy farm?
Dad didn’t stay around to say. He walked back toward the house, following my grandparents. I turned to find Sara still at the fence talking to Lucas. It was clear she was annoying him but he was nice enough to stay and talk to her. I whistled for Argos and he came running up to my side a second or two later. I hadn’t realized he’d been that close. I checked my watch as I started back toward the house. Connie still wanted to give Sara and I that tour today. It was almost noon now. I couldn’t help but wonder if Dad would drive us back into town to the B&B so we could meet her.
I ran up the steps so I could ask him.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's Note: Its Monday again, time for another chapter. This is the halfway point on the chapters I have written for this story. I'm currently still at work on Ch.8. The progress slowed down a bit due to recent tree related drama lol. I'm working on it though. Today is a lazy, free day for me so maybe I can finally finish it. I do have some good stuff coming up though :). As for this chapter, we have some characters. We have a new place to visit too. I'd once again like to thank ashleigh for editing this tale for me :).
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4.
Dad drove us back to the B&B. Looking up at the pastel colored building, I wasn’t going to miss it. We all went inside to find Rebecca talking to other guests. I was actually surprised. I honestly thought that this place was a dead town. The couple she was attending too were hanging off each other and standing close. They were so obviously newlyweds. The woman was young, one of those fake types---her hair was dyed and her boobs were clearly artificial. Her husband looked a bit older, there were age lines at his eyes and a little gray at his temple. He had money, though, that much was evident by his suit. Dad had a few of those in his closet----tailor made and not cheap.
“This is so exciting” the woman gushed “a real B&B.”
“Anything for you, princess,” said the new husband, kissing her on the cheek.
She giggled like an idiot.
I rolled my eyes.
Rebecca looked beyond them at Dad and smiled. I wondered if it was going to break her heart when he told her we were leaving. Good riddance as far as I was concerned. I think if I stayed another night here, I’d start to get dreams about rainbows and bunnies. I couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.
The couple moved on. As they walked away, I found myself staring at the woman’s legs. They were smooth and nicely tanned, clearly professionally done. It was her shoes that drew my attention. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone could walk in things with a heel that high. I started to turn away when I noticed the rose tattoo on her calf. I was not expecting that to be honest. Here I thought she was some dippy trophy wife but the tat told me differently: she had a bit of a wild side too.
I watched as they giggled and went up the stairs, all I could think about was what an idiot.
“She’s in that one for the money,” said Connie as she came up behind me. “I mean did you see that tan and those clothes. Not to mention those nails?!??”
I shook my head.
“Well let’s just say that woman is walking around with more money on her than I’ll ever see...in at least two lifetimes.”
I smirked. Connie was a bit cynical. I missed that about her before.
“So you’re leaving?”
How did she know that?
I turned to her and saw our parents talking. Oh, Dad must have said.
“Grandma offered to let us stay at their house until our stuff gets here.”
Connie looked a bit disappointed. “You still want to do the tour though right?”
I smiled. “Sure we do!”
She lit up at that.
“C’mon then,” she said, taking my hand and dragging me toward the door.
“Dad, I’m going with Connie!” I shouted as she practically pulled me out the door.
Dad shouted something but I was gone before I could hear it.
Outside, there were three cars in the parking lot now. I knew our Accent of course. The silver-blue BMW must have belonged to the gold digger and her husband. I guess I missed that when we pulled up. The third car was an SUV. I think I noticed it parked around back yesterday but I couldn’t remember. Behind the wheel was another girl, though. I did a double take when I got a look at her. It was almost as if Connie was in two places at once. The girl behind the wheel had the same long black hair, green eyes, and complexion. A moment later, the girl stuck her head out the window.
“Hey you two, hurry up.”
Wow, she even sounded a bit like Connie.
“You have a twin?” I asked, confused.
Connie laughed. “That’s my older sister Beth.”
I was still confused as Connie dragged me over to the SUV. She pulled open the back door and I found Sara already inside waiting. She was listening to her iPod as usual. She ignored me as I climbed inside. Connie got into the back with me. She smiled at me as she sat next to me, taking my hand again. This girl certainly worked fast. Not that I had anything against a beautiful girl being this interested in me, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Fiona. I still wanted to be with her, back in Portland where I belonged.
“So you must be Karrie?"
I groaned. Why had Dad told them my full name?
“Its Karolos actually but everyone just calls me Charlie.”
Beth made a face. “I think I like Karrie better.”
Connie laughed.
I huffed a bit. This was going to stick, wasn’t it?
Beth pulled out of the parking lot with a little speed. It was kind of jarring. Connie was still holding my hand I noticed.
“So Karrie,” asked Beth as we turned onto the main road. “You have someone special back home?”
“I did,” I said, feeling Connie tense a bit next to me. “We ended up calling it off right before I left, though. Long distant relationships don’t really work, you know.”
“Connie had a boy too but then he ran away from her,” said Beth, laughing.
“He didn’t run away!”
I turned to her and she looked slightly upset.
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “Mark just left. Well, not left, his parents said he went to stay with some relatives in Canada. It was really weird, though. One minute we were really happy and then the next day he just ups and moves?”
It was kind of weird.
Connie stopped talking about it. She did, however, want to know everything about Fiona. So I told her all that I could. How we met, how she asked me out. Then I talked about her figure skating, how the coach and her parents hated me. I ended it all with how we decided to stay friends and Skype each other every day. I saw the look on Connie’s face. It mirrored my thoughts. I knew the friendship thing probably wasn’t going to last and the skyping was going to end at some point. Fiona was popular and pretty, it was only a matter of time before some other guy came along and she forgot about me. I was going to take what I could get when I could get it, though.
It was then that I looked out the window and realized we were going pretty fast for a town tour.
“Aren’t we supposed to be stopping and looking at places as you tell me what they are?”
Beth laughed. “You drove through the town when you got here, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then town tour is over with,” said Beth with a laugh. “Connie only told Mom that to mask our real goal.”
“Which is?”
“The mall of course, silly!”
“Mall?” Sara took out her ear buds. “Did someone say mall?”
Both sisters laughed.
I groaned. Somehow I’d just got roped into going to the mall with three girls.
Gods help me now.
The mall was in nearby Edgerton, about twenty miles away. With Beth’s driving, it took about thirty minutes to get there. Someone really needed to take away this girl’s license or something.
According to the “Welcome to Edgerton” sign, the town was a great deal larger than Whisper Pines. Whereas Whisper Pines put their population at about three hundred, Edgerton boasted a robust three thousand. It was pretty evident as we drove through. There were several streets and though most of the buildings were brick and no higher than a few stories, it felt a little more like home. It had a modern looking theater with an IMAX, I actually counted several schools, there was even a large town center with an actual ice skating rink. The mall was pretty much in the middle of the town. It was fairly good sized too, three stories. The front was made all of glass and I could see an actual elevator.
It kind of surprised me actually. I wasn’t expecting something like that here.
“Welcome to Edgerton Galleria, the Mecca for teenagers everywhere,” said, Beth, as she pulled into the large parking lot.
“Yes, Thank You, God!”
Well, at least Sara was happy.
It took us another ten minutes to find a parking spot. Then another few minutes to actually walk from it to one of the many entrances. The whole time Sara was practically bouncing. When we finally got inside, I was amazed at the tall ceilings and how shiny everything looked. The floor was polished marble or at least something that looked like it. The surfaces appeared to be chrome or some other kind of metal. It was like walking into some futuristic spaceport. So in other words, it felt like a real mall. Like something back home. I couldn’t help but smile a bit. Not that I really cared for malls much but I was glad to see that I could make the best out of this whole “adventure”.
“Ok so here’s the game plan,” said Connie, winking at me quickly. "I’m taking Little Sister here and running away with her. You guys can do whatever.”
Beth feigned being hurt.
Sara looked confused.
“Where are we going?” she asked as Connie started to walk away with her.
“You need to pick a hair color and stick...” I heard Connie say as they walked away from hearing range.
The two of them quickly disappeared into the crowd.
“So just me and you, huh?”
I wanted to gulp.
“I think I’m gonna go look for a game store,” I said, trying to escape.
“Not so fast,” she said, grabbing my arm. “I need someone to carry my bags until Lucas gets here.”
“I don’t want to be your pack mule” I moaned, knowing what that entailed.
Fiona used to do it to me all the time.
“It's just until the Boy Toy gets here.”
“Oh, you and Lucas...”
She smiled and nodded. “It's been a few months now actually. That boy has some great hands and the way he kisses...”
“Enough please” I interrupted, she laughed.
I did not want that image in my head.
Beth laughed. “So,” she said, walking with her arm still in mine. “You and Fiona, is that over?”
I hadn’t realized Beth had been eavesdropping.
“Romantically, probably,” I said “its hard to keep a relationship going from across the country, you know.”
She nodded. “Looking for someone else?”
“Aren’t you and Lucas...I mean...the hands...and the….”
Beth laughed out loud. “Lucas and I are in love. Plus I’m too old for you. I was talking about Connie, stupid.”
I’d be a fool if I didn’t say there was something there. I think it was a bit one-sided, though. The Collins’ women seemed to see what they liked and tried to grab it. Not that Connie wasn’t pretty---she was a knockout---but she was no Fiona. Fiona was like fire in a bottle. Connie was more like a warm milk. Not that there was anything wrong with that but I just couldn’t see myself with someone like that. Plus I was pretty certain she wasn’t over this Mark guy. It's hard to start a relationship with someone when they’re not over their Ex.
“It's not a good time,” I said, trying to be polite.
“You’re talking about this Mark guy?”
I nodded.
Beth rolled her eyes. “The mysterious Mark. You know I never actually did meet him. I mean Connie says she dated this guy but No one has ever seen him. She says he went to our school but no one besides her even remembers him. If you want my personal opinion, I think she made him up.”
That didn’t make any sense. I mean, did girls do that?
“She said he moved to Canada?”
Beth shrugged. “Connie’s weird like that. She likes the attention. It was just probably her trying to relate to you. Soften you up to get you to sympathize with her. Then in a few weeks time, she’d make her move. My sister is a little devious minx that way.”
I couldn’t believe that. Connie was a fluffy bunny. There was no way she’d try to trick me like that. She definitely didn’t have the vibe.
“Can we talk about something else please?”
“Sure,” said Beth, stopping us in front of Rue 21. “So how much can those skinny arms of yours carry?”
I groaned. I knew where this was going.
Beth dragged me into the store. No amount of my struggling could stop it. She was pretty strong for a girl actually.
I’d been in Rue 21 before. Lots of times actually. It didn’t just sell girls clothes after all.
Beth shopped like she drove.
She wove in and out of the aisles, spending only a few seconds at one before zipping to the other. Lucas had to be fast because it was the only way anyone could keep up with her.
“Hey lookie here, Karrie,” she said, pulling me over to a section where they were advertising new looks. “This whole line is called Borrowed From the Boys. This might be just perfect for you.”
I rolled my eyes.
The section in question was selling oversized sports shirts, ripped jeans and flannel apparel. Things that most guys would probably wear. Only they were all cut and designed for women. There were other things too, dresses and things like that.
You know as much as I wanted to hate Beth for the joke, I couldn’t help but smile. If anything she reminded a lot of Fiona in her own weird way.
I laughed. “Fiona would have pulled me over here too.”
Beth smiled. “Great minds I guess.”
Beth quickly grabbed a dress off the rack, holding it up to me.
“Nope, you’re more of a skater dress kind of girl I think,” she said with a laugh.
I swatted it away. She had a good laugh at my expense.
Then she quickly dragged me over to the cash registers. The girl behind the counter made a comment about Beth’s purchases then asked me about my own look.
“The tomboy look is pretty retro but it's making a comeback, you know.”
I looked down at what I was wearing: hoodie, jeans, and my high top converse. There was nothing tomboy about this look. It was all boy.
Beth clamped her mouth shut but I could tell she wanted to laugh. Thankfully I was able to get her out of the store before she made a scene. That didn’t stop her from laughing as soon as we got out of there. She laughed for a while actually, only agreeing to stop after I threatened to push her into the nearby fountain. Not that I could, though. Beth had some nice arm muscles. I would be lucky if I could even move her an inch. The girl was ripped and not in that grotesque female body builder kind of way either. It was clear she was an athlete of some kind. I could only imagine how much fun she and Sara would have talking shop.
“Does that happen a lot?” she asked as we walked away.
I shrugged. “More and more these days.”
“Is it just the hair or...”
So she noticed.
“I’m only fourteen. On the internet, they said fourteen isn’t late for puberty.”
I don’t know why I was defending myself. I guess I was just getting sick and tired of all the talking and the stares. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little concerned, though. That’s why I ended up googling it. Puberty at fourteen was not all that uncommon actually. It still meant I was healthy. It was afterward where I might have some concern. Dad and I talked about it a little while ago actually. He said it was nothing to worry about and if it really bothered me so much he’d make a doctor’s appointment. I wasn’t all that bothered. So my voice was still high, I had no body hair growth and flabby muscles, I was still me. There were just some intimate parts of me that still hadn’t descended yet.
“Ohh I gotta go in there,” said Beth, pointing.
I followed her finger with my eyes. The store she was pointing at looked pretty ritzy. It actually had a red carpet at the entrance and above the glass doors, a large name in fancy gold lettering, Martel.
“You want to go into Kenny Martel’s store?"
“Oh, so you’ve heard of him.”
“Only recently.”
Beth didn’t say anything. Instead, she started toward it like a woman possessed. I followed close behind, carrying her bags awkwardly. As we got closer, I couldn’t help but notice a mannequin in the window wearing the same pink top the cow was eating. I winced at the cost. Three thousand dollars gone to waste. As soon as I stepped into the store, I smelled fruity perfume that clung in the air and made me gag. I gagged, even more, when a woman in a pink dress stepped out of nowhere and blasted me in the face with it.
She handed me a coupon a second later.
“Martel Musk,” she said “over on the back wall. Trust me, girl, you’ll love it!”
She disappeared back into the racks from whence she came.
I started to cough, waving my hand in front of my face in the hope of dispersing the pink cloud.
God this stuff smelled awful.
It was then that I realized I lost track of Beth. Looking around quickly, I saw her browsing around some handbags. They were ugly as hell, all faux fur, and pink. Looking around, I noticed that pink seemed to be a theme with this guy. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had a hand in decorating my former room back at the B&B.
“I think this guy is secretly your mother’s interior decorator,” I said as I snuck up behind her.
She snorted. “You saw the pink room then?”
“I slept in the pink room.”
“No way!”
“Way!”
She shuddered. “I pity you, sir.”
I laughed. Beth was cool. How was she related to Rebecca and Connie?
“So you know this stuff is super expensive right?”
“I’m not here to buy, just look.”
I looked at the purse she was currently drooling over. I checked the tag: $9000.
For a purse!!!
“We have those in white and purple too, ladies,” said a voice from behind us.
Gah.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
It was the Crazy Perfume Lady again.
“No thanks,” said Beth, dismissing her with a wave. “We’re just admiring them from afar.”
The woman gave us a miffed look before disappearing again.
Beth and I laughed.
We left Martel’s after a few more minutes of her “admiring”.
Back out in the mall proper, someone shouted for us. Turning I saw Lucas coming up. He was with a boy about my age, a little shorter than him and not quite as handsome. There was something vaguely familiar about him too. He looked a tad bit like Lucas but the glasses and the freckles made him unique. As they got closer, I noticed the younger was taller than me, though.
It really sucked to be short.
“Hey,” said Lucas then grabbed Beth into a kiss. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi, there,” she said, wrapping herself around him.
The boy looked at me. “Charlie?”
Wow.
“Ummm yeah but how did you...”
Lucas laughed. “Charlie this is my brother Rex. Remember what I said, he remembers everything.”
“Its good to see you again, man.”
Rex made a move like he wanted to bump my fist, all gangsta style or something. About halfway through it, though, I think he realized how futile and ridiculous it was and stopped.
“Yeah sure is” I said, trying not to sound like I had no idea who he was.
Rex didn’t miss a beat, though. “It's ok if you don’t remember me, we were only five.”
I nodded. Good because I had no idea who he was.
“So,” said Lucas, looking at the bags in my hands. “You got roped into the Beth Tornado, huh?”
“Sadly,” I said and she playfully punched my arm.
“Charlie was just being sweet and helping me,” she said, rubbing her finger along Lucas’ pec. “I was just waiting for my big, strong man to come along.”
Wow, this was a completely different Beth.
I looked to Rex. He looked strangely uncomfortable.
Hell, I was feeling a bit uncomfortable myself.
Beth turned to me, taking her bags. “Charlie, I free you from my service.”
I bowed. “Thank you my liege,” I said, putting in a bit of theatrics.
“Hey Rex, why not show Charlie that game place you like so much.”
Yes, Thank the Gods.
“Sure,” he said, stepping away. “C’mon.”
He cast his brother and Beth another uncomfortable look, then started to walk off. I ran a bit to catch up with him.
“You don’t approve?” I asked, referring to their relationship.
“It's weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Its just...forget it.”
Ok.
Rex didn’t say another thing. Instead, he started meandering his way through the mall crowd like a real pro, dodging and weaving around every single person. It was pretty impressive actually. He never touched a single one. Me, I was like a bull in a china shop. I don’t think there was a single person I didn’t bump into. Finally, after weaving and dodging, Rex stopped in front of a store. The bright lights and loud noises told me it was an arcade.
Wow.
“An actual arcade?”
Rex nodded. “I know kinda prehistoric but it's still cool.”
Rex led the way inside.
My senses were quickly assaulted by overly loud kids, stale drinks, and unfortunately, lots of nasty B.O. This was a place for boys. Most of which were sweaty and unbathed. Trying not to let that deter me, I followed Rex to a counter where he tried to get the kid to give him a deal on tokens. The kid’s eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, making him look even more bug like through his thick glasses.
“Dude, you brought a chick?”
I groaned. “I’m a dude.”
“No way!”
“Yes way,” said Rex, annoyed. “Rog, the tokens?”
“Oh sure,” said the kid---Rog---as he handed over the goods.
Rex gave him a twenty and Rog dropped a handful of coins into his hands. Rex passed half to me without saying a word. Then started off toward the machines. There were a lot of them. Well, of course, it being an arcade and all. Most of them were pretty old school too, like from those 80s movies. I didn’t even know these things existed. There were some modern ones too but they were way in the back. They were also populated by an older crowd. Most of the younger kids avoided them. I glanced over quickly----backward caps, sagging pants, lots of laughing.
Yeah, I definitely didn’t want to go back there.
“So how’ve you been these last nine years?”
Rex turned and gave me a look. “It's ok, you don’t have to pretend. I know you don’t remember me. It's an occupational hazard on my part. So you can stop trying.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
What bug was up his ass?
“If you don’t want to hang here its cool too,” he said, putting some of those tokens into a machine. “I’m sure you’d rather be with Beth or maybe some other friends.”
“First of all,” I said, putting my own tokens into the same machine. “I just arrived here yesterday so, besides a few people, I have no friends here yet. And second, sure Beth is cool but if she dragged me into another clothes store, I was going to burst.”
Rex smirked. “You should have seen her before.”
“Before what?”
“Nevermind.”
Fair enough.
We played the game without much talking. It was one of those old side-scrolling space shooters. You know with a little ship blowing up asteroids. It was a two person game, the kind that I might have played as a kid. Something came back to me about half way through. This wasn’t just like the kind I’d play, it was nearly identical. I had a quick memory flash: of playing this game with a little red headed kid with freckles and glasses.
“Oh wow, we played this.”
“What?” he asked, not turning from the screen.
“You and I,” I said “When I was here nine years ago. We played this game.”
“So you remembered something.”
“Hey don’t feel so bad, I forgot I had a dog too.”
“Really?”
I nodded. We shared a laugh.
We played the game for about twenty minutes then moved onto another one. Before I knew it, we spent an hour in the Arcade and burnt through all of our tokens. We had a bunch of tickets but I wasn’t really interested so I gave them to him. Rex went to the counter and came back a few minutes later carrying a pack of cards. He didn’t say a thing, instead putting the pack in his back pocket, unopened. I shrugged. After that, he took me to the comic place. It was pretty epic. I was surprised at the size of the place and the variety of comics. We spent a lot of time in there.
The more I hung out with Rex, the more I felt like I was with Doug again.
It was kind of cool actually.
“Oh shit,” said Rex, looking at the clock. “I’m supposed to meet Luke in like two minutes.”
“Then let’s go,” I said, quickly paying for our comics on the way out.
I handed Rex his bag and the two of us rushed back into the mall mob.
I tried to dodge them like him but he was a natural. An Olympian even.
Finally, we found ourselves where Lucas was supposedly suppose to meet us. We were early though as Beth and Lucas arrived a minute or two later. Lucas’s arms were full of bags so I really dodged a bullet there. The look on his face would have made the day for me if not for the scene that I saw a moment later. Walking up, teetering on a pair of heels, was Sara. I almost fell over laughing at the sight of her: yellow flowered sundress, heels, and purse. Not to mention her hair was now a honey blonde and the look on her face could kill a great white from a thousand yards away.
She looked at me and glared when I smirked.
Connie came up behind her, practically gliding in her own heels. She was wearing a new dress as well. Blue, I think. It was hard to tell because it seemed to shimmer in the light. She was holding some bags, though. If I had to guess I’d say it was the clothes they swapped out of.
“You did this, didn’t you?” asked Sara, glaring her evil eye at me.
I played dumb. “Whatever do you mean, dear sister?”
“I hate you,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Oh she looks so sweet,” said Beth, patting her on the head like a puppy.
“Back off or I’m biting it off, Barbie!”
Beth quickly pulled her hand away.
“Wow” whispered Rex in my ear. “I’ve never seen anyone scare Beth like that.”
I snorted.
“So our day was a success” said Connie, spinning slightly to show off her dress. “It's perfect, right?”
Rex and I both dumbly nodded.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one in the Connie Collins Fan Club.
“You look like a fucking blueberry,” said a girl as she walked by.
The snark oozed off of her.
“No one asked you Goth Freak” snapped Connie at the girl’s backside.
The girl raised her arm, flicking Connie off backwards before vanishing into the mall crowd.
I only caught a glimpse of her but she was pretty awesome. I never really cared for the Emo girls back home because they were all moody and tortured. Or at least pretended to be. There was something about this girl, though. It wasn’t just her weird fashion sense or her long blue hair. It was the way she appeared out of nowhere, threw out a quick insult and vanished just as quickly.
It was something I’d never seen before.
“Who was that?” I asked, still watching her walk away.
“No one” said Connie.
“Clara Grimes,” said Rex “Don’t get too close, though, I heard she hasn’t had all her shots.”
Connie snorted.
Our little group broke up after that. Lucas and Rex went there own way but not before I ended up with both Beth’s bags and Rex’s cell number. So sorta a win for me. It was kind of nice making a friend. Or reconnecting with an old one? It was kind of confusing actually. No matter, I wasn’t going to be totally alone I guess. Well, at least I’d have someone to talk too besides Connie I suppose. That was something right?
When we got back to the car, Sara shoved me out of the way.
“You better sleep with one eye open tonight, chump!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. There was no way I could take her threats seriously with her dressed like that.
I climbed into the SUV right behind her. Connie dropped into the seat next to me again. She tried to get me to notice her but I wasn’t really interested. She gave up and turned to talk to Sara. I watched as the mall and Edgerton slowly started to disappear behind us. All in all, it was a pretty good outing I guess. I met Rex again and I think I found the most interesting girl I’d ever seen.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's Note: Monday again, new chapter again. This is the school chapter. Well actually Part one of two if you want to get technical because Ch.6 also takes place in school too. Some new and interesting things start to pop here. Also the picture I'm using for this chapter is what I envisioned the school mascot to look like :). I'd once again like to thank ashleigh for editing this tale for me :).
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5.
There was knocking again.
Groaning, I threw off my covers. Mornings and this town were never going to agree with me. Not after a rather restless night. I couldn’t even remember how much sleep I had. It was made worse by this strange dream that I could only half remember. There was someone shouting my name but not my first name, my last one. It was kind of weird really because the name was echoing like I was in a large room and the shouting didn’t sound too happy. Sadly, though, I couldn’t remember any more than that.
Sitting up, I looked around the room in confusion for a second.
Then I remembered where I was.
This was Mom’s room.
It was one of the strangest things actually. When grandma suggested Sara and I put our things in Mom and Grace’s room, I didn’t really think about it. I was just hoping for a non-repeat of the pink room. Thankfully my fears were lifted as soon as I walked in. Mom had a pretty gender neutral taste. Well it was clear two girls lived here once but it wasn’t a nauseating shade of pink. The walls were painted a light lavender and the carpet was blue. Most of the furniture was white with light blue accents. The focal point of the room though was the large window with the seat. It was kind of cool, like that show Girl Meets World that Sara swore she didn’t watch.
The rest of the room was typical teenage girl stuff.
There were a couple of dressers, two vanities and a large dressing mirror. The posters on the walls were boy bands from the late 90s and early 2000s. Most of those were covered up though thank god. It was clear that when Mom finally left the room, her photography was starting to take over. The walls on her side of the room were covered in pictures. Most of friends and family but there were lots of pictures of the town too. They were kind of nice in a way. It left like I was taking a peek into my mother’s soul.
Aunt Grace’s side of the room was covered in trophies, awards, and postcards.
Even back then she apparently had an adventurous streak.
Getting up, I walked over to the closet. Opening it, I found a lot of Mom’s old clothes hanging there. I fought back the urge to lean forward and smell them. That was the greatest thing about this place. It still smelled like Mom. Mom had left this room at eighteen to go to college and the room had frozen itself in time with her absence. She and Dad met on her spring break that year when she took a trip to Europe. They fell in love and he followed her back. He’d been taking the year off to help his father with their fishing business but my mother convinced him to join her. They were pretty inseparable after that. Mom got her journalism degree and didn’t realize it at the time but she was already pregnant with me. My parents didn’t get married until after Dad got his business degree.
Sara came while Dad was finishing up his MBA.
Thinking about it all left a hollow pit in my stomach.
I quickly stopped thinking and went through my morning routine. I was still wearing Connie’s borrowed bed pants because I didn’t really have anything else. I wanted to sleep in my boxers but seeing as I was currently sharing the room with Sara she vetoed that idea. Pop wasn’t too happy to see what I was wearing but he couldn’t really complain. They did try to give me some stuff my Uncle Kurt left but he was bigger than me so none of his clothes fit. Grandma was nice enough to wash the clothes I was wearing yesterday, though. Rebecca had washed my other clothes from Monday.
I’d only been stupid enough to pack one change of clothes in my backpack.
The rest of my clothes were in the boxes currently making their way across country.
A trip that was taking way longer than necessary.
Dad had called the moving company last night. Our truck had a broken axle. It was going to be another few days before they got it fixed. So either I’d be alternating my two outfits for school or else I’d have to go clothes shopping.
Yay me.
Pulling Monday’s clothes out of the pack, I tossed them on the bed before I opened the door and nearly tripped over Argos.
Man’s loyal best friend.
Dad wouldn’t let him in my room last night.
“Did you sleep out here all night, boy?” I asked, rubbing his head gently.
As I walked down the hall toward the upstairs bathroom, he followed. He stopped at the bathroom door, though, sitting there like a silent sentinel. He whined slightly as I started to close it but I reassured him I wouldn’t be long. Walking toward the toilet, I looked toward the little window behind me. It was still slightly dark outside, I couldn’t remember the last time I got up before the sun. Back home, school didn’t start until almost eight in the morning. I usually got up at seven and had plenty of time to get there. It was six now and school began in an hour.
Stupid farm people.
I peed then got into the shower. I took another quick one. I got out just as fast as I got in and groaned at the dweeb in the mirror as I passed. I made sure to wear my towel back to the room, though. Sara had still been sleeping when I woke up but now apparently she was downstairs. I could hear the sound of the other shower. It was decided that I would use the upstairs bathroom and she the downstairs one. She had spent nearly an hour in said bathroom after we got back from the mall, scrubbing off all the girly makeup that Connie had put all over her face. Unfortunately for her, though, she didn’t have any of her washable hair dye with her so her hair was still honey blonde.
The rest of the night she shot me daggers.
Hey, all’s fair in Sibling War.
Besides after Monday, she had it coming.
Argos came trotting into the room behind me. I patted him on the head as I walked over to my bed. On it, I found my clothes neatly folded. That was a little weird but not as weird as what I found sitting on them: the heart pendant. This time, though, it was on a new silver chain. Now how in the heck did that happen? I picked it up, turning it over in my hand. No one even knew I had it except Sara and I was pretty certain she didn’t know I’d been keeping it in my pack. I set it aside and got dressed: boxers, jeans, socks then shirt. I pulled on my zip up hoodie too. It was going to be my crutch for the day.
I wanted to make a manly impression on my new schoolmates.
No more of this girl garbage.
Argos followed me out of the room and down the stairs. I wasn’t even to the bottom of them before I smelt breakfast: homemade pancakes, bacon, eggs, and sausage. Grandma really knew how to lay out a morning feast.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said as she was putting more pancakes on a plate.
“Smells delicious,” I said, dropping into a seat.
Sara and Dad were already there. Dad was wearing one of his overly expensive suits. The tie itself cost more than all my video games combined. Sara, on the other hand, looked miserable. Whereas the high school didn’t have a dress code, apparently the elementary school did. Girls were required to wear these hideous green vests and skirts. Add to that her knee high socks and black buckle shoes and she looked:
“So adorable” I gushed like an idiot.
“Die in a fire” she grumbled at me.
“I think your brother is right,” said Grandma with a smile. “You look darling.”
“Well, I feel like a damn idiot.”
“Don’t say damn.”
“Sorry, Grandma.”
It was funny because the outfit actually made her look a little bit younger. Not like an eleven-year-old at all, more like a little five-year-old. As soon as I thought it, I had another vague memory of a girl, long red pigtails, wearing the same outfit. I’m not sure who she was or where she came from. I’m not even sure why I suddenly remembered it. Ok so Sara’s outfit probably triggered it but still, it was kind of weird that I was remembering it now of all times.
“Now do you have everything you’ll need?” asked Grandma as she finally sat down. “Lunch money? Your backpacks? Do you know where your classes are and where the bus picks you up and drops you off?”
Sara and I nodded yes to all her questions.
“”They’re fine Judy,” said Pop from behind his paper.
What was it with grandfather’s and their papers in the morning?
Breakfast was pretty quiet after that. Well if you didn’t count Grandma trying to braid Sara's hair into twin tails. I couldn’t help but scoff at the image. It would have really made her look like a little kid. Sara refused of course and kept shooting me nasty looks as if she could read my mind or something. It didn’t stop me from having them, though.
It was really funny, though, the outfit really did make her look younger. Or more accurately it made her look her age for once. Mom had always been on Sara’s case about dressing too grown up. There had been no strict dress code at her old school and Sara had pretty much been allowed to go to school however she wanted, including with makeup and padded bra. Now the makeup was all gone and of course, there was no padded bra. Grandma had seen to that bit last night. I think she was about to have a heart attack when she saw it. She went so far as to throw it in the garbage. Sara went postal, there had been shouting and everything. It was great. Dad had to finally step in and that ended that.
Grandma made something clear, though. As long as Sara was in her house, she was to present as the young lady she appeared to be. She told Sara there was plenty of time to grow up.
Sara was growing, though. I’d seen the cami tops and training bras all over the house back home. I think Grandma was just a little set in her ways.
We finished breakfast just in time to hear the beeping of the bus horn.
Grandma kissed both of us on the forehead before we rushed out the door.
I was surprised to see an actual school bus. It was yellow and everything. Back home, the kids who took the bus to school usually used city buses. Rushing across the lawn behind my sister, I couldn’t help but feel a little like a dork. I mean kids actually thought it was ok to ride around in one of these things? Getting on the bus only made it worse. The bus driver grunted at me and all eyes were on the two of us. The bus I noticed was fairly packed. Sara and I ended up having to sit with one another toward the front.
“Don’t talk to me from this moment forward?” she said.
“I’m not the one talking.”
She didn’t have an answer for that.
I decided to sit quietly and look out the window as we drove to school.
Whisper Pines High was actually a lot smaller than I thought it was from the car. My school back home was at least three times bigger. This place could barely be considered a school at all, to be honest. Looking around, I saw a lot of kids my own age walking toward the building. I turned to say something to Sara as she stepped off the bus behind me but she was already on her way across the campus toward the elementary school. That place was small too. Was this what it was like to be in a small town?
Walking toward the building, I did notice they had a football field which was surprising.
I half expected them to send their players to another town to practice or something.
I also noticed that the field looked a little unused. The grass was unmowed and the field goal posts looked a little rusty.
Well, maybe they didn’t have a team anymore?
Walking up the large stone steps and into the building, the first thing I noticed was the mascot. Well, it was hard not too, his image was painted on the wall directly in front of me. I half expected it to be a cow honestly. I was more than a little surprised to see it was a Greek Soldier. No not Greek, Trojan I think. I tried to keep up with Greek myth as much as I could. My father always told me it was a good idea to know where I came from. I knew they were only stories but it was kind of cool to think that maybe some of them were true. I mean all stories had to have some truth behind them right? Who’s to say there wasn’t really a Jason or a Heracles out there at one time in history?
“Kinda out of place if you ask me,” said Rex as he came up beside me.
“Hey,” I said then nodded. “I thought maybe it would be a cow.”
He shrugged. “It might have been once.”
I was starting to get the impression that Rex was a little eccentric. It was how he acted and the things he said. Almost as if he believed that half the things he saw weren’t actually the truth.
“Yeah well it makes me feel right at home,” I said with a half laugh.
He nodded. “C’mon I’ll show you to the office so you can get your schedule and things.”
He waved me on and I obediently followed.
The office was right around the corner from the main entry foyer. It was separated from the rest of the school by a large glass partition with two doors. Rex pointed to it.
“Try to talk to Vice Principal Willis, she’s easier.”
I nodded. What did that even mean?
Rex started to walk off.
“You’re not going to wait to see if we have similar classes?”
“I’ll catch up with you in lunch.”
“What if we don’t have the same lunch period?”
He laughed. “Everyone has the same lunch period,” he said then continued down the hall.
Ok, so Rex was definitely weird.
I shrugged and opened the door. I walked up to one of the two desks. I made sure it was the one near the door that said Vice Principal Willis. The woman behind the desk was young, probably in her late twenties. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she wore a charcoal gray suit and skirt combination thing. Sorry, I’m not too fashion forward, to be honest. Unless of course, I’m in the room when Sara and her friends were talking.
“Can I help you, sweetie?” she asked in a sing-song voice.
“I’m Charlie Kanenas, I just moved here a few days ago.”
She nodded and quickly started typing away at her computer. A moment later she looked at me.
“We have a Karolos Kanenas?”
“That’s me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I prefer to be called Charlie, though.”
“I see,” she said, typing again. “There were ago, I put a note of it in your file. Go on through that door, I’ll let Ms. Willis know.”
I smiled and thanked her.
Then I took a deep breath as I stepped toward the Vice Principal’s office. I knocked on the door. My parents always taught me to be polite. I heard a muffled voice give me permission to enter. As soon as I opened the door, I was greeted by a neat and spartan looking office. There was a desk and some chairs, filing cabinets and a large bookshelf. There was nothing else, though. No sign of anything personal. The woman sitting behind the desk had a severe look to her. She was maybe mid-thirties, glasses, her darker hair pulled back like her secretary. She was wearing a gray pants suit. When she stood up, she was taller than I expected. Probably because of the heels she was wearing.
“Mr. Kanenas?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded. ‘Its the hair. I like to be called Charlie too.”
She smiled. It was actually a warm and welcoming one. It betrayed her actually. To look at her I was expecting some horrid woman. She surprised me.
“Well then have a seat, Charlie,” she said, pointing to the chair in front of her desk.
I quickly took it.
Ms. Willis looked at her computer. “It says here you’re from Portland.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Your father is Greek, hence the name,” she said, still reading the screen. “And your mother is...Penny Miller?’
There was a bit of surprise in her voice. She turned away from the computer screen and looked at me. She smiled as she did so.
“You look like her” she said softly. “Your mother I mean. She and I...” She lost composure for a second then regained it just as quick. “We were schoolmates together. Good friends. The best of friends.”
Her voice faltered a bit.
“I miss her too,” I said softly.
She smiled and gave me a gentle nod.
“You and your family are staying with the Millers then?”
“For the time being. We have a house at the new development I guess. Our moving van broke an axle so we’re staying with my grandparents until they get here.”
“They’re good people, your grandparents.”
I nodded. “I like them.”
“Now then,” she said “now that that’s out of the way. I can get you all situated.”
A moment later, the printer behind her sprang to life. A few seconds later, she handed me a few sheets of paper.
“The first sheet is your schedule, your locker location and combination should be right there on the bottom,” she said, pointing it out to me. “The other sheet is a quick list of school rules. Nothing too crazy or drastic. The Principal Mr. Carpenter likes to run a tight ship around here so make sure you stick to those rules. Now lunch is always 5th period, the vending machines in the cafeteria are for after school only.”
I saw that on the list of rules as I quickly scanned them.
“Gym is 7th period” she continued. “Boys and girls take PE together but separate locker rooms for obvious reasons. Each student has at least one study hall a day and the last period of the day is for an elective if you requested one. I put you in study hall again, though, unfortunately for you coming in the middle of the year like this, most of the electives are filled up.”
“Its ok,” I said and it was.
She smiled. “Well, then Mr. Kanenas” she held out her hand for me to shake. “Welcome to Whisper Pines High.”
I stood up and shook her hand. She had well-manicured nails I noticed.
She walked around her desk and showed me out of the office.
The secretary smiled at me as I walked toward the hall.
“Have a nice day?” she said sweetly before I left.
The bell must have already rung because the halls were deserted. I was stopped a few seconds later by an adult walking the halls. I’m guessing he was a Hall Monitor or something. When I told him I came from the office, he gave me a pass and told me not to do it again. Like it was my fault or something?
My first class of the day was thankfully not very far.
Algebra with Mrs. Gromley.
I stepped into the room and all eyes were on me.
“Can I help you young lady?” asked the portly, older woman in the front of the room.
“Boy actually,” I said, walking to the front of the room to show her my pass and schedule.
“Ah yes Karolos,” she said with little interest.
Several of the guys in class snickered.
I ignored them. I always ignored them when they laughed at my name.
“Charlie actually.”
Mrs. Gromley waved me off. “Sit somewhere and don’t interrupt my class again.”
Wow, this was getting off to a great start.
I found a seat in the back of the room. When I sat down, the girl from the mall was sitting next to me. She gave me a look, sizing me up maybe? She looked like she was dressed for a rave: ripped shirt, fishnet sleeves, lots of dark eye makeup. I looked at her legs, she was wearing a skirt. I found myself staring a little too long, though.
“See something you like?” she asked.
“Sorry,” I said, turning away, blushing.
Mrs. Gromley glared at us. “Girls, pay attention!”
The class snickered again.
And that’s how the rest of the morning went. I wasn’t late for another class again but it didn’t matter. Most of the teachers saw me as an annoyance somehow. Most of them also referred to me as a girl. I did the whole “I’m a boy and Charlie” thing three more times before I finally let out a sigh of relief when my fourth period Earth Science class let out. Being a Freshman was tough, being a new freshman at a new school was torture.
It didn’t help that my new Emo friend was in three of my four morning classes.
She was Miss Sunshine too every time she saw me.
When I got to the cafeteria, it was already half full. I fell into line like a drone, barely paying attention as I was given some semblance of a meal. I paid the lady, smiled and walked away to find a table. I scanned the crowd of people, looking for Rex. I spotted him in the far corner, sitting with a bunch of guys that looked to be about my flavor. They were all nerds of course but they were kind of my people I guess. Not that I really had a clique back home. I usually just sat with Fiona and her skating friends. They weren’t bad company and Doug often sat with us too. He drew most of the attention though because well “he was a hunk”.
According to Fiona’s group anyways.
I started toward Rex when someone slipped their arm through mine.
“Where you going?” asked Connie.
“Over with Rex,” I said, pointing.
“Sit with him tomorrow,” she said, steering me away. “Come sit with me today. I want you to meet the girls.”
I tried to protest but it was already too late.
Connie led me over to a table where three other girls were currently sitting. I was amazed at the beauties before me. Two blondes and a brunette, all of them absolutely gorgeous. All of them smiled at me when Connie brought me over.
“Guys this is Karrie, the boy I was telling you about.”
I groaned at her cutesy bastardization of my name.
“Karrie these are the girls,” she said and introduced me quickly. “That’s Britney, Amber, and Tracy.”
Britney and Amber were the blondes. I was not surprised. Of the two, Amber was the prettier one. She had a thinner nose and pouty lips. She was the kind of girl guys would crawl over glass naked to be with. She was also well endowed in the chest region if you get my meaning. Brtiney was no slouch, though. She just wasn’t as pretty as Amber. She did have these great eyes, though---sparkling blue. She also apparently painted her fingernails each a different alternating color: red and blue currently.
Tracy was the odd girl out I think.
She looked a bit out of place here, to be honest.
She looked shy. She kept looking at me and seemed to avert her eyes every few seconds. She was pretty too if you liked that whole girl with glasses thing.
I sat down in one of the two empty seats.
“Nice to meet you guys,” I said, trying to be polite.
I looked at the empty chair across from me.
“That’s Mel’s chair. She’s got student council today. You can meet her tomorrow” said Connie, taking my hand.
“So is it true that you guys were at the mall and all over each other yesterday?”
I rolled my eyes. I forgot how girls gossiped.
“Mall yes,” I said.
“I told you he has a girlfriend,” said Connie “stop trying to make something out of this when there’s nothing here. Besides...”
Amber scoffed. “The mysterious Mark again.”
“He’s not a mystery,” said Connie, annoyed. “You guys met him. He used to go to school here.”
Amber shrugged. “Sorry, doesn’t ring any bells.”
I studied her face. I couldn’t tell if she was being catty or if she genuinely didn’t remember this guy. Beth had said the same thing yesterday or something similar. That her sister was making the guy up to get attention. Maybe it was true but Connie really seemed to care for this guy.
Fake or not.
I was about to jump to Connie’s defense when I noticed something. Britney was wearing a low cut top. A very low cut top. Not that I was staring but it was kind of hard not too when she was almost directly across from me. It wasn’t her breasts that drew my interest, though, it was her necklace. More importantly, it was the heart shaped pendant. The very same one I found the other day at the diner.
“That necklace,” I said, “where did you get it?”
“Oh this,” she said, grabbing the pendant and lifting it off her neck. “We all have them. It's our little club.”
“Club?”
“Yeah,” said Connie, showing me hers. “The Heart Club.”
I nodded. Then I quickly rummaged around in my backpack until I found what I was looking for. I took out the necklace and put it on the table.
“Where did you get that?” asked Britney.
“I found it at a rest stop a few days ago.”
Connie picked it up, flipped it over and put it back down. “Well, it looks like ours but it's not.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Well, the Heart Club only has five members. Four of them are sitting at this table with you. Mel is the fifth of course.”
“Whoever that belongs too,” said Amber, pointing to my necklace. “It's clearly from some girl trying to copy us.”
“Well it could be...” said Tracy, looking around.
“No,” said Connie quickly. “She definitely burned hers.”
“Who?” I asked.
Connie shook her head. “It's not important.”
“Hey,” said Britney with a giggle. “If you want it, you can wear it. Be an honorary member. I mean you’re cute enough, you could totally pass as a girl.”
Britney and the others broke into a fit of giggles.
Then, of course, Connie had to tell them about how we met and how she thought I was a girl. There was more laughing. I tuned out the rest of the conversation. I quickly looked around the lunch room, wondering who the girl that Tracy mentioned might be. I scanned several of the people but none of them seemed to fit. My eyes finally fell on Miss Emo Sunshine, Clara. She was sitting by herself. I felt kind of bad for her in a way. I mean didn’t she have any friends?
I was tempted to get up and go over there but after this morning’s misunderstanding, I was pretty sure that wasn’t a good idea. So instead I stayed with the Heart Club for the rest of the lunch period. They laughed at me for a bit longer, joking about makeovers and things like that. I half paid attention. Then they switched topics to something else just as inane and asinine. Connie and the others didn’t bother to involve me in the conversation which was fine by me.
I made up my mind that tomorrow I was definitely going to sit with Rex.
Lunch ended a little while after that.
When the bell rang, I was more than ready to get the hell out of there honestly.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's NoteHere's Ch.6, I almost forgot to update today. I got busy with a great deal of errands this morning and it completely slipped my mind. This chapter is a continuation of the last one. It also partially takes place in Gym class, that's why the picture is a basketball. The picture is also connected to something else but no spoilers from me lol. I'd once again like to thank ashleigh for editing this tale for me :).
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6.
The class after lunch was History. So far it was the only class of the day that I actually kind of liked. Mr. Greene was a pretty cool guy. For one thing, he didn’t call me a girl as soon as I walked through the door. For another, he knew the English equivalent of the name Karolos. As soon as he met me, he shook my hand and asked, “Do you want to be called Charlie?”
I thought that was kind of cool actually.
His lesson wasn’t boring either. It didn’t matter that the guy was clearly older than my grandfather, he made learning fun.
At least for me anyways. Most of the other kids in class seemed disinterested.
As class was winding down, he called me to the front of the room.
Mr. Greene was tall, taller than most people I’d seen. He kept his head clean shaved, his glasses perched on his long nose and his goatee neatly trimmed.
“So Charlie, how has Whisper Pines been treating you?”
“Strangely” I answered honestly.
He nodded. “Small towns like this are always a bit on the strange side. I know when I first came here in the 60s, I swore that the squirrels were plotting war in my front yard. It was the strangest thing too. Of course, it was just me being crazy.”
He laughed. I laughed along with him.
“Oh that reminds me,” he said, opening his desk. “I was in Greece, in the 1950s, back when I was in school. I did a summer abroad there and I found something interesting.”
He came out of his desk with something wrapped in a red handkerchief. He slowly unwrapped it in front of me. It was a coin, a pretty old one by the looks of it. There was a woman’s face on it but it was pretty worn. She was wearing a strange hat but I couldn’t make anything else out.
“I found it snorkeling off the coast of some Greek islands,” he said, holding it up for me to take a look. “Go ahead, you can touch it.”
I gripped one edge of the table and with my other hand, I slowly reached my finger forward to touch it. As soon as I did, a bit of static build up zapped me from the coin. Well, actually it was probably from my clothes or me touching the desk. It was something that happened sometimes. I pulled my hand back nevertheless. Mr. Greene gave me a strange look before chuckling slightly.
“Static electricity?”
I nodded.
“It's the cloth I think. It's gotten me a few times too.”
“Do you know who is on the coin?”
He shook his head. “I know it's made of bronze and she’s a very prominent figure to be featured on a coin like this. I’ve taken it to quite a few people but none of them have been able to tell me much. Similar coins like this one have been dated back to the third century, though. Its a real ancient mystery.”
He folded it back up in the handkerchief, a small look of excitement on his face.
“That’s kind of cool.”
“I thought you might like it,” he said with a smile. “Have you ever been?”
“To Greece, no,” I said sadly. “At least not that I can remember anyways. My mother said they took me there as an infant but of course, I don’t remember that far back.”
“I’ve been there a few times in my life,” he said “it's such a lovely country. I used to live there for a time but that was a long time ago.”
He looked at the wall clock. “Look at the time, you’re gonna need a pass for your next class I think.”
I didn't even hear the bell ring.
He wrote me a pass and told me if I ever wanted to talk Greece with him that he’d been in his office down the hall. I thanked him for showing me the coin before rushing off to my next class. Thankfully it was only Study Hall. My first of the day apparently. It gave me time to catch up on my reading and do some of the light homework I’d been assigned. School was never a problem for me. I’m not trying to gloat or anything but I always got straight A’s. The work here didn’t seem all that different. In fact, I think they were a little behind us in some subjects. So it wasn’t all that hard to get it done easily.
I was just finishing up the last of it when I noticed Clara watching.
How many classes did I have with this girl?
I waved like a fool.
She huffed and quickly looked away.
Study Hall was pretty slow and boring. I wanted it to last forever though because I knew what was coming next.
Gym class.
My least favorite class of all time.
The bell finally rang and I couldn’t help but groan. The class quickly started to file out. Clara got up and made a mad dash for the door. She was pretty fast but I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to apologize for earlier and try to explain things. Thankfully she wasn’t as fast as she was pretending to be. I caught her only a few feet out the door.
“Hey,” I said, slipping in beside her.
“Go away.”
“Look I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Fine you’re sorry, now go.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“You’re friends with them.”
“Who is them?”
She stopped and turned, giving me a look. She had these intense eyes. They were really pretty, a violet color which I knew had to be fake. Probably contact lenses. It wasn’t the color of them that drew me to them, though. It was something behind them, something smoldering there. She was trying to scare me off with her glare and her dark eyeliner and purple eye shadow. Honestly, though, it was actually doing the exact opposite. It was drawing me in, wanting me to stay here with her.
“Look, Connie already has her hooks in you.”
“Oh Them,” I said and waved it off. “Connie thinks I’m hers or something. I spent one night at her mother’s B&B and somehow we’re friends. I barely know her. I thought she was pretty cool but she’s kind of superficial if you ask me.”
Clara smirked. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“I’d actually rather be friends with you.”
That surprised her I think. From what I could tell, no one wanted to be friends with her.
“Why?” she asked, clearly confused.
“Why not?”
She bit her lip then shook her head. “Go away, I’m poisonous.”
She pushed past me, her head down. I didn’t bother to run and catch up with her this time, though. I knew she’d shut me out if I tried. Not that I was going to stop though. She intrigued me. There was something about her, something that I couldn’t quite place. She was so different than any other girl I’d ever seen. I wanted to know more about her. I had to respect her wishes though and leave her alone. It was a shame though because I knew the two of us would have been really good friends.
“Hey Coach, I think we have a problem.”
Here we go.
I’d just walked into the boy’s locker room and the dicks were already starting. This was nothing new. It didn’t help that most of these guys were in my classes. I used to get the same thing back at my old school. Or at least I did at the beginning of the year. Once the year started to progress, the name calling and the jokes stopped. It took about a month or so, though. Most of the guys back home learned to live with it and found other things to laugh about.
I ignored the laughing and the pointing.
I walked to the far corner of the room and found a locker.
I’d been through all this before.
As I was taking off my hoodie, I noticed someone standing behind me.
“This is the wrong room, princess,” he said, giving my shoulder a shove.
Great, physical contact.
It's not like that hasn’t happened before either.
I turned and found the perfect neanderthal specimen standing behind me. Tall, muscular, head buzzed so close to the skull he was pretty much bald. I’d met these types before too. He had chiseled good looks, piercing eyes and one of those chins. I liked to call them Gastons. You know from Beauty and the Beast. Arrogant pricks who swaggered around and thought they owned the place. This guy was a definite prime example of one. The fact that he was standing there without his shirt made it even worse.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m a boy.”
“And I’m the King of England,” he said, laughing.
Several others around him laughed too.
I was proud to be a boy. I liked being a boy. In situations like this, though, I couldn’t help but wonder why boys were so stupid. Did they honestly think that if I was a girl, I would want to walk into the boy’s locker room? Or that I was blind. I mean I could clearly tell that the room was full of boys because well they’re boys. A real girl would have never been stupid enough to walk this far into the room. She would have stopped at the door, said something like “oops” and walked away. These guys were either total idiots or enjoyed being total dicks.
“He’s a boy,” said a voice from somewhere behind them.
I think it was Rex.
“What’s going on here?” asked a large man as he pushed his way through the circle of people behind me.
“Coach,” said Gaston #1, pointing at me. “That’s a girl.”
I groaned. “I’m a boy!”
I reached into my pack and took out my schedule, I handed it to the Coach. He took it and scanned it. He looked from it to me and back again. Then he smacked Gaston #1 in the back of the head.
“Hunter, finish getting dressed.”
That seemed to end things. The others laughed. Gaston #1---Hunter---glared at me before he wandered off.
The Coach shook his head. “Sorry about that...umm...Karo...”
“Charlie,” I said.
“Well sorry again, Charlie, sometimes I think these boys have taken one too many hits to the head.”
“This from the man who just smacked him in the back of it?”
The Coach laughed. “I like you kid. I’m Coach Moore, if you need anything, let me know.”
He turned and started to walk away when I realized there was something I actually needed.
“Ummm Coach, I wasn’t expecting to have Gym today,” I said, realizing that I didn’t have any gym clothes.
“Right, new kid,” he said, nodding. “I’ll see what I can find.”
I took off my hoodie and stuck it in my locker. Then I sat down and waited. The locker room slowly started to empty. Pretty soon I was the only one there and the Coach still wasn’t back. Feeling a little abandoned, I thought about just leaving. Sitting on the bleachers was nothing new to me after all. Like I said before, Sara was the athletic one. Back home, we didn’t have to participate if we didn’t want too. Of course, it docked our grade a lot but seeing as the PE wasn’t tallied into our overall GPA, I warmed the benches a lot. Especially when it came to swimming.
Finally, the Coach returned.
He cut a huge, imposing figure. The man was broad, all muscle and very little neck. His head was shaved clean and there was an interesting scar on his chin. I’m sure that had a good story.
He approached me carrying some folded clothes. The look on his face though told me I wasn’t going to like what he said.
“Ok so I went looking for some spares, we usually have them lying around,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “But well you’re kinda a little guy so...”
I looked at the clothes in his hand.
“You had to get those from the girls’ locker room, right?”
He nodded. I’d been here before too.
At my old school, they provided the gym clothes. Because of my size, none of the ones that the boys usually wore actually fit. So my PE teacher, Mr. Norris, had to get some from the girls. Thankfully they were pretty gender neutral so it wasn’t too much of a problem. I only had to wear them for a few weeks too. The school was able to take my measurements and order me a set that actually fit. The embarrassment though was enough. The ridicule was just as bad. Like the locker room ribbing, though, it eventually went away as well.
“You don’t have to wear them, you can sit in the bleachers today.”
“How does the PE grade work?”
Coach sighed. “It gets worked into your GPA.”
Great.
Well, one day probably wouldn’t hurt that much but it would still be a zero. I’d never really gotten a zero on anything. Even when I didn’t participate in PE back home, they marked it as Incomplete. The school I went to back home catered more to the students than it should have. It was a private establishment that relied on the parents’ money to keep it running. So if a student didn’t want to participate in gym class, he or she didn’t have too.
I groaned. “Hand me the clothes then.”
“You sure?”
“Sir, I’ve never failed and I’ve never taken a zero for anything in my life. I’m not about to right now.”
He nodded and handed them over.
Call it stupidity, call it Hubris.
I just didn’t like to be a loser.
Looking at the clothes, though, I couldn’t help but groan. In what school were these considered suitable for gym class?
I held up the tiny shorts and tank top.
I looked at the Coach.
“The girls voted last year. That’s the outfit that won apparently. You can still sit on the bench if you want?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be out in a few minutes, Coach.”
He nodded with a smile then walked away.
I stripped quickly and got dressed just as fast. Thankfully I was wearing briefs today or else my boxers would have been sticking way out. Yes, the shorts were that small. They were a bit tight too and I hated the way they seemed to hug my body. It was almost as if they were designed that way. Ignoring them, I put on the tank top. It was a little loose in the chest region for obvious reasons and it was a bit short at the bottom too. Putting my shoes back on, I stood up and felt exposed.
Girls actually voted on this?
Trying not to think about it, I slowly walked through the locker room and out into the gym. As soon as I stepped through the door and into the gymnasium, I tried to go unnoticed. It didn’t last long. A second later there was some whistling and cat calling. The usual crap. A lot of the boys were laughing too. It all stopped when Coach Moore shouted at them, even threatening to kick them off their perspective teams. On the other side of the gym, I noticed the girls. Most of them were wearing their own gym outfits. My borrowed top and shorts were gray with the school name on each. I spotted Connie and her Heart club then Clara off by herself. They were in the middle of playing basketball and hardly noticed.
Which was good because I didn’t want to give Connie any more ideas.
Rex came walking up.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
I groaned. “Because apparently it's Humiliate the New Kid on his First Day of School Day.”
I felt a bit inferior standing next to him. Rex wasn’t much to look at honestly but even he had some muscles. He was also taller than me. Benefits of farm living probably.
The coach blew his whistle. Everyone quickly started to gather around him. There was a large group of boys here, a lot more than in the locker room I noticed. The school must have had more than one locker room. Ms. Willis had said PE was 7th period. I hadn’t realized she met it was 7th period for everyone. Then again this was a small school so I could see where something like that was possible. The gymnasium was rather large too. Bigger than the one at my old school even. So it was definitely big enough to fit all these guys and girls in it together.
Looking at the faces, I saw Lucas too.
He nodded, I returned it.
A minute or so after blowing his whistle, the coach told us what we were doing today.
Basketball.
Great.
Everything went well for a while. He told us to pair off. I went with Rex. It turns out it wasn’t his sport either. What we did while paired off was up to us so Rex and I just started shooting hoops. There was nothing wrong with it. About ten minutes into it, though, the coach blew his whistle again.
“Change up.”
Which apparently meant switch partners.
And my new partner was none other than Gaston #1.
Fate hated me.
“Hey Girly Boy,” he said with a smirk, throwing the ball hard at me.
I barely caught it. My hands stung, though.
“Charlie,” I said, even though I knew it wouldn’t matter.
Dicks like this Hunter guy were a dime a dozen. I’d dealt with them before. They liked to swagger, they liked to talk big. They liked to throw their weight around. He was no different. Apparently, something about me bothered him. It was probably nothing he could even pinpoint either. He was a dick and dicks like him didn’t need a reason. I’m sure he could give me one if I asked. He could give several but in truth, it was all about his own insecurities. Something about me brought out something in him he didn’t like. I’m not sure what it was and frankly, I didn’t care.
“You might have the coach fooled, Girly Boy but I’m not an idiot.”
He caught the ball I threw at him without a problem. Apparently, we were only going to be playing catch. Then he returned it even harder than before.
Wow, that really hurt.
“Why do you care?” I asked, tossing the ball back.
“I don’t care,” he said, whipping it at me again.
“Well you’re sure doing a lot of whining for someone who doesn’t care.”
Ok so it wasn’t the smartest thing to say but I was getting sick of this crap. I’d been dealing with it all day and this guy wasn’t helping. I couldn’t help it that I was short or thin or “girly” as everyone called it. I didn’t like the way I looked either. Mother Nature had not been kind so far and hopefully, the problem would correct itself in time. Right now though I’d have to deal with it. I was dealing with it. It was other people who couldn’t seem to deal.
“What did you say?”
“What’s the big deal anyways?” I asked, pushing it. “Why are you so convinced I’m a girl?”
It hit me the second I said it. It was his face. First surprise at my words then confusion. It was only there for a second before it disappeared into his sneer. It was there, though, I saw it. He’s was another convenient store idiot. He thought I was a girl because he wanted me to be a girl. Me being a girl was the only way he could explain his attraction to me. It was weird, though. I wasn’t even androgynous looking. At least I didn’t think so. Everyone always mistook me for being a girl. Even before the hair. Mom once told me it was the way I sometimes acted. When I asked her to clarify she didn’t really answer or at least it was an answer I couldn’t quite understand:
“It's just the way you are.”
What did that even mean?
“What are you looking at, freak?”
Oh so now I’m a freak.
“Nothing.”
“Are you coming onto me?”
The anger was there. It was building too. I should have backed away but of course, I didn’t. I’d never really been in a fight before. I knew the principles of them of course. One moron pounding on another with his bare fists. I’d seen quite a few of them. I was just never really in a situation where I might get into one. Back home I stayed below the radar. There were a lot of kids at my school and I could easily blend into the crowd and disappear. Here there was a lot less and I stuck out a lot more. I apparently stuck out enough to this Hunter idiot that it was making him question his sexuality.
“Why would I be coming onto you?”
That only seem to anger him even more. The ball he threw wasn’t toward my hands anymore. It was so fast I didn’t have time to react.
Now I’ve been hit in the head by many basketballs.
I’m not sure why this one hurt so much.
I’m also not sure why the world was spinning around me as I hit the ground.
Someone shouted my name, though.
Then darkness.
I woke up disoriented, confused and in pain.
Yeah, lots of pain.
There was also this bright light.
Gods I hope that wasn’t what I thought it was.
“Careful, sweetie,” said a kind voice as I felt a hand on my shoulder. “You got hit pretty hard.”
The light went away and the room came into focus. Everything was white. For a second I thought the light was still there until I realized I was looking up at a ceiling. The white came from the ceiling tiles and the walls on either side of me. I turned my head slightly and saw a pretty young blonde woman in white scrubs sitting next to me. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and around her neck was a silver necklace, the pendant dangling from it was two snakes wound around a winged staff.
The Caduceus.
“Who are you?” I asked, trying to look around the room but finding most of my view blocked off by what looked like a shower curtain. “Where am I?”
She smiled. “I’m Mia Bright and you’re in the Nurses’ office.”
Bright, her name fit her nicely.
“He hit me with the ball, didn’t he?”
“Yes he did,” she said with a sigh. “Got himself into quite a bit of trouble for it too.”
Good.
“He’s a dick.”
“Well, bullies always get theirs in the end. Give it time, that boy does not have a good future laid out for him.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that.
I really liked her.
Nurse Bright helped me sit up a minute or so later, telling me to take it slow. My head still hurt and the room was still slightly spinning. I tried to remember what happened but it was a bit fuzzy. I remember Hunter getting angry and him throwing the ball at me. I fell backward maybe…
“Did I hit my head too?”
“According to your friend, Reginald,” she said, looking at an iPad she was holding. “You got hit in the face with a basketball and fell backward, hitting your head on the gym floor. So yes you hit your head. You’ve been in here for about an hour, unconscious. There’s no bump back there so that’s good but you might have a mild concussion.”
Concussion? Shouldn’t I have been at the hospital then?
And who’d Reginald?
“Reginald?”
“Rex, dear.”
His name is Reginald! No wonder he calls himself Rex. Not that I could complain, though. I am the Pot calling the Kettle black after all.
“Shouldn’t I be in the hospital?”
I still couldn’t see anything beyond the curtain around the bed but it was clear this was still the school. Usually, in situations like this, the person with the concussion would be in the hospital. They would run a battery of tests to make sure there wasn’t brain damage or something. There was a football player at my old school who had something similar happen to him during a game. Then again he was sacked by this massive linebacker. Both of them were going pretty fast too. It was all pretty messy. He was out of school for a month, most of the time spent either in bed or the hospital.
“You were only mildly concussed. Besides we don’t have a hospital in town. The nearest one is Edgerton. I have spoken with Dr. Riley---the town’s physician---and he’s agreed to monitor the situation. You have an appointment with him later this week.”
None of this made sense.
I was about to ask more when I heard the door open. Nurse Bright excused herself and stepped through the curtain. I heard voices, one of them sounded strangely like my grandmother. A moment later the curtain was pulled back and I was correct, it was her. The first thing she did, of course, was hug me then asked if it was ok to do so.
“He’s fine. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest and tries not to do anything too strenuous. Dr. Riley wrote him a prescription for some pain medication if needed. There will more than likely be headaches and possibly some nausea.”
“What about this boy? Hunter Phelps?”
The nurse smiled. “Mr. Phelps has already been dealt with.”
The way she said it made me wonder.
“Well, his father is going to be hearing from our lawyer.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Nurse Bright then helped me get off the flimsy school cot. I was glad to be off of it actually. The thing was as hard as a rock. I was still a little woozy but I could walk. Not that that stopped Grandma from standing next to me as I did so. I took a look around the nurse’s office as I walked to the door. It was white and very bright like I suspected before. There was a desk over by the window, devoid of personal items. There was a poster on the wall, though, a little kitten hanging from a tree branch. Below it were the words HANG IN THERE in bold, green font. Opposite to that was a picture of an idyllic looking landscape.
In the hallway, Connie and Rex were waiting.
Had they been waiting the whole hour?
Why weren’t they in class?
“Hey guys,” I said with a weak smile.
“You ok, Charlie?” asked Rex, looking concerned.
“I’m good, just a bump.”
Connie wiped her eyes. They were slightly puffy and red. Had she been crying? Was a girl actually crying for me?
She rushed forward and gave me a hug. I winced a bit but only because it took me off guard.
“Ok dear,” said Grandma, after a few seconds. “The nurse wants him to avoid anything strenuous.”
Grandma must have seen the wince.
Connie finally let go. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“I’ll manage.”
She smiled at that.
“You two should be in class,” said a voice as I heard the clicking of heels coming toward us.
Behind them, walking our way, was Ms. Willis.
Behind her---trying to keep up---was that hall monitor from earlier.
“Mr. Banks will escort you both to class, no need for passes,” she said, looking directly at the Hall Monitor.
He looked a little peeved that she was undermining his job but he nodded. Without saying another word, he motioned for Rex and Connie to follow him. They quickly said their goodbyes, both agreed to call later and then they were gone. I watched him lead them down the hall and around the corner.
“First of all, Charlie, I’d like to apologize,” said Ms. Willis, drawing my attention back to her. “Coach Moore will send you his apology tomorrow, as will Mr. Phelps as soon as he gets out of his month-long detention,” She said that last bit with a slight smile.
“So the boy is being punished then?”
‘Oh yes,” she said sternly. “He knows the rules very well. We have Zero tolerance for bullies here at WPH. This isn’t Mr. Phelps first offense either. There will be consequences to this one, I assure you of that.”
Grandma smiled happily. “I will definitely be speaking to that boy’s parents too.”
“I’ll make sure you get the number, Mrs. Miller.”
“Thank you, Patty.”
Ms. Willis blushed a bit by being called something so informal. The blush was out of place for her, she usually looked so stern and put together. It was also weird. You don’t often see adults blush like that. I looked from her to Grandma. She didn’t seem phased by it in the least. After all hadn’t Ms. Willis just told me this morning that she and my mother were best friends. It was only natural that my grandmother knew her on such a casual level.
Ms. Willis put on her stoic face when she spoke again. ‘Now, Charlie, I’ve already spoken to your teacher from your 8th-period class and excused your absence. 9th period is already in session but seeing as its study hall for you I see no reason why you can’t go home now. If you feel the need, you can take the next few days of school off as well.”
“That might be a good idea.”
“No,” I said “I’m fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Charlie, that’s hardly...”
I loved Grandma and she met well but not on this.
I shook my head. “I’ve never missed a day of school in my life and I’m not going to start now. I’ll be here tomorrow, bright and early. I’m not going to let a bump on the head stop me.”
Ms. Willis nodded. “Just like Penny.”
There was pain in her voice as she said it. There was a pained look on grandma’s face as well.
I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t think it was ever going to truly go away.
None of us said anything for a few minutes.
Finally, Ms. Willis agreed to walk us to the door. I guess there wasn’t really anything else to say. The hall was empty and quiet, the only sound was our footfall. Of course, mine and grandma’s was drowned out by the clacking of heels. I couldn’t help but wonder how she managed walking around in those all day. She must have been on her feet a lot and yet she chose to wear such high, thin heels. It was insanity if you ask me. Looking at my own feet, I knew I could never pull it off. Not that I wanted to wear heels of course. Though, they would probably make me taller?
Wait, no, where did that come from?
I shook my head which of course made me wince.
Stupid tiny concussion.
Stupid Hunter.
Stupid heels.
“Something wrong, sweetie?” asked grandma, looking concerned again.
“Nothing, just thinking of something stupid.”
When we rounded the corner and started down the main hallway toward the front entrance, I was surprised to see my Sentinel there waiting. Argos was sitting in front of the glass doors, staring into the building, not moving. Like a large, black dog statue. As we got closer, he broke character though as his tail started to wag.
“I locked him in the truck, how did...” Grandma sighed. “Never mind, that dog truly is something else.”
I smiled at that.
Ms. Willis watched Argos with a wary eye as we approached the door. She stopped about ten feet from it too I noticed. Well, he was a very intimidating looking animal.
“I believe I’ll leave you two here then, it was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Miller,” she said then turned to me. “Again I want to apologize for all of this, especially on your first day too. It doesn’t make a very good first impression of us, does it?”
“It's ok,” I said and meant it.
It was a foolish misunderstanding. Not that I condoned what Hunter did but it wasn’t all his fault either. I goaded him a little bit after all. Tomorrow I’d make sure to talk to someone about that, see if I could get his sentence reduced. After all, it was a mistake and his stupidity that lead to it. He was still a dick of course but not even dicks deserved to get punished for dumb things.
I watched as Ms. Willis turned and walked away, clicking as she did so.
So much taller.
Stop that.
“What say you to a nice cup of tea when we get home?”
“Sounds good Grandma.”
We walked out the door, Argos snapped to my side as soon as we got to him. I patted him on the head and followed grandma to the truck, my Sentinel at my heels.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's NoteOk so I know its been a while and I apologize for that. I'm still not done with this story though sadly. I haven't been able to write much of anything in the past few months. Things are just not great right now. I do have this chapter and two others finished though. Maybe by the time Ch.9 is posted, I'll have a few more written and ready to go. Don't count on it though :(.
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7.
I finally stopped puking.
I’ll admit it wasn’t pleasant. I’d been doing it all week so I thought maybe I would start getting used to it. The thing about puking though, no matter how many times you do it, you never get used to it. I’d been doing it a lot too. At first, it was because of the concussion of course. After I came home from school Wednesday, I spent all night either trying to rest or rushing to the bathroom. Thankfully by Thursday, things were better. At least as far as the concussion was concerned. I was in and out of the bathroom all Thursday too but the nausea was mostly gone. It was my stomach that seemed to be the culprit. The town doctor---Dr. Riley---made a house call. I mean how cool was that, I thought that only happened in old movies.
He declared the concussion having run its course.
That didn’t explain why I was throwing up though.
He had an answer for that too:
“Common stomach virus. Its been going around. She must have picked it up in the nurse’s office.”
Yeah, he had said “She” too. It didn’t matter that he knew my full name and that everyone was referring to me as Charlie. Even Pop tried to correct the man but he was pretty old. He either didn’t hear or didn’t care. My gender was hardly of any importance in the situation. When you’re sick, you didn’t really care if the old senile country doctor called you he, she or it. All you wanted to do was get better and do it fast.
It was Friday now.
I didn’t want too but I ended up missing school yesterday and today.
The first time in forever.
I think that honestly made me sick more than anything.
I finally stopped throwing up and flushed.
I really hated this feeling.
I walked to the sink and splashed water in my face. I groaned at what I saw in the mirror. I looked horrible. Haggard and worn out. There were dark circles under my eyes and my hair was a mess. Not that I cared much for what my hair looked like but I at least ran a comb through it every now and then. Today and the last few days though, it looked like I stuck my head in a fan or something. Maybe it was from lack of sleep. This stomach bug wasn’t good on my sleep cycle. Add that to the fact that I was afraid of slipping into a coma if I slept too much because of the concussion and I’d maybe had about a day’s worth of sleep in the last few days.
Not fun.
Fiona noticed it last night during our Skype call too.
I felt so bad about neglecting our calls. I apologized when I talked to her, telling her how hectic things had been. She apologized too. She’d been pretty busy herself, what with practice and school. I think this whole long distance Skype friendship was going to be a strain. Not only because of the three hour time difference either. We both had school and she, of course, had practice too. We talked for about an hour last night though. I told her about school and of course about that dick Hunter and the concussion. She sent me her best wishes and wished she could be there to help me feel better. Just hearing her say that was good enough.
She asked about the pendant too of course. When I told her about the Heart club, the first thing she did was roll her eyes. She insisted I find the necklace’s owner though. She once again emphasized how important friends were to a girl. I couldn’t help but be reminded of her own friendships. I couldn’t really call them what they really were though---competition. All of her friends were in her skating club and though friendly with one another, they were still competing to be the best.
I couldn’t even imagine how that was.
One minute a friend could be your BFF and then stab you in the back the next.
It must have sucked.
It must have been nerve-wracking too.
Thinking about it now though was a mute point. I only had one friend to worry about. For some reason, I just knew Rex wouldn’t stab me in the back. I knew it because he’d been my friend this whole time. Even when I forgot about him. I don’t think he had many either. Sure there were the guys he sat with at lunch but something told me they were just friends of convenience. I remember the distant look he gave me the other day when Connie dragged me off to her table---it was disappointment. He wanted me to sit with him. In hindsight, I probably should have. As nice as Connie was, I just couldn’t see myself making any lasting friendship with her. She was looking for a boyfriend and honestly, I wasn’t over Fiona.
There was also Clara too.
I’m not sure what she was to me.
I didn’t feel attraction to her but there was something else.
I just needed to know her.
A gentle knock on the door drew me from my thoughts.
“Charlie, honey.”
It was grandma.
“I’m ok, Grandma,” I said, shutting off the sink.
She was a wonderful person. I loved her too death. She was, however, starting to smother. I know when you’re sick, it's nice to have people around to take care of you. Grandma was great at that. I think she just took the job a little too seriously though. She was constantly hovering. Every time I moved she thought it was because I wanted something and rushed to my side. In a way I guess I couldn’t really blame her. All her children were grown and distant. Mom and Aunt Grace both moved away and Uncle Kurt, well he was probably not much of a son, to begin with. I’m pretty sure the twins were like their father. After all, there was only that one picture of them on the mantle.
Grandma didn’t seem to have a lot of practice being a grandmother.
I think she was trying to make up for lost time.
I stepped out of the bathroom to find Argos waiting.
Ever the loyal companion.
He perked his ears as I rubbed his head.
“Good boy,” I said as I walked back to my room, he followed at my heels.
He followed me into the room again.
Dad had finally relented when he saw how much the dog wanted to be with me. It's hard to deny something like that when he literally slept outside my door. I don’t think Dad was too happy about it and frankly, I didn’t care. I was a little pissed at him actually. He said this move was supposed to be different, a time for us to be a family again. Old habits die hard. As soon as he got back into work, he got absorbed into it again. Sara and I took notice. He tried to explain it away as “new guy” things but we both knew what it really was. He had a purpose again. Being home had been painful. His sloth was his grieving. He was done with Portland, done with his life there. Here he could start fresh. Which apparently meant starting nothing fresh because he fell right back into work again.
I never expected him to change.
Letting Argos into my room wasn’t really relenting, it was avoidance. Once he got focused on one thing, all other things for Dad seemed less important.
I sat on the edge of my bed, Argos put his head in my lap.
Looking around the room, my eyes fell on a picture of Mom. It was her when she younger, maybe sixteen. She was with another girl, a definitely younger and more carefree version of Ms. Willis. It was weird to see such a stern woman smiling and looking happy. The two of them were hugging, both turned and smiling at the camera. Mom looked so young. She looked happy too. She had a great smile that I missed more than anything.
“He’s doing it again, Mom,” I said to the photo.
I’d taken to talking to it since arriving here.
It was the only one in the room that really spoke to me. There were other pictures of her but this one seemed different. The others were candid and somehow less alive. This one felt more real somehow. That’s why it was no longer on the wall either. I took it down that first night and put it on the bedside table where it was currently sitting.
I quickly envisioned Mom’s response:
“You know how he is, sweetie.”
I didn’t have to make those words up.
I’d heard her say them more times than I could count.
I picked up the photo, rubbing her smiling face with my finger.
“Why did you leave us?’ I asked softly, a tear rolling down my cheek.
There was another gentle knock.
Grandma stepped into the room a moment later.
“Are you feeling any better, sweetie?”
I shrugged. “Still throwing up but not as much.”
It was true. I’d only thrown up that once. I felt a little better too. The fever was down a bit and it didn’t feel so bad when I moved. Before I’d been all achy and stuff. I wouldn’t say I was one hundred percent though, maybe sixty five or so.
She came over to me and put her hand on my forehead.
“Well, you do feel a little cooler.”
That always amazed me. I never really could understand how people did that? I mean she touched my head and could instantly tell if I had a fever or not. I think it was a Mom thing. I didn’t get sick often but when I did, Mom always touched my forehead too. She could easily proclaim if I was fine or “burning up”. It must have been this secret passed down from mother to daughter or something. Though I’m sure there was some overly complicated scientific explanation for it. No matter though, Mom’s were always pretty accurate about their built-in thermometers.
“How about I bring you another bowl of Chicken Noodle soup?”
The soup was a mystery to me as well. I didn’t even really like soup but somehow it made me feel better. I’m sure there was an explanation for that as well but I didn’t really care.
“That would be awesome.”
She smiled, stroked my cheek gently and walked out of the room.
When she got to the door though, she stopped and stared at me strangely.
“I think your father and grandfather might be right, your hair is getting a bit on the long side, isn’t it?”
I reached up and touched it.
Huh.
She smiled sweetly and left.
Confused, I got up and walked over to my mother’s vanity. It was covered in a bunch of girly things: old bottles of nail polish, some face cosmetics. Her hairbrush I left untouched because it still had some of her hair in it. Even this old hand mirror. Then there was the jewelry box. It was ornate and polished. My mother talked about it more than once. She said she wanted to give it to Sara but confessed that it was probably something my sister wouldn’t have cherished much. Over the last few days, I was tempted to take a look inside out of curiosity but stopped because it felt too intimate. Almost as if I was invading her privacy somehow.
It was stupid I know.
Trying not to think about that and more about my grandmother’s comment, I looked into the vanity.
What had she meant?
For the last few days, Pop had been hassling me about my hair. Grandma kept coming to my defense. So it was a little odd for her to suddenly do a complete 180 on me.
Looking in the mirror, I grasped the end of my hair.
I blinked a few times to be sure but there was no doubt about it, it looked longer.
What the hell?
Ok so it wasn’t down my back or anything silly like that of course. I knew how hair grew after all. I also knew that it definitely didn’t grow a couple of inches in only a few days. I knew a lot about my hair because well it was the thing that most people commented on. It was also the thing that my mother loved most about me. She used to comment about it all the time, how soft and thick it was. She used to love running her fingers through it and combing it. I used to keep it a lot longer when I was younger too. Well past my shoulders at least. It was that way until middle school. One day, Freddie Griggs cornered me in the boy’s bathroom and confronted me. He seemed pretty pissed about something.
Things were made worse when he tried to kiss me. When I recoiled from the gesture, he got angry and punched me in the face. He split my lip with that punch and bloodied my nose. He probably would have done more if not for the untimely arrival of Mr. Frost, our English teacher. He had to pull Freddie off of me apparently. It was then that Dad decided that I need to get my hair cut. Mom usually took me to her hair salon to get a trim but Dad took me to his barber to get it cut properly. Thankfully he didn’t let the man shave my head but I was given a hairstyle more fitting a boy my age.
That was two years ago.
It took that long to grow it back to where I had it now.
So I knew how long it took for hair to grow.
“Did I just not notice?” I said to myself, turning my head left and right.
Well, maybe that explained why people were getting so confused?
I stared at it in the mirror for a long time. Long enough for grandma to come into the room with my soup on a tray.
“Is something wrong, sweetie?” she asked, setting the tray on the little bedside table where I kept the photo.
“It is longer,” I said, still confused as hell.
Grandma’s reflection in the mirror smiled at me.
“No longer than before,” she said, stroking my head. “I just think I finally began to notice that’s all. Maybe its because its all messed up now. If you want, as soon as you’re better I can have your grandfather take you to his barber?”
I shook my head. After that first and last visit to the barber with Dad, I was traumatized. I used to love my hair. I promised myself I wasn’t going to let some “butcher” touch it again. Besides, it was Mom’s favorite thing about me. How could I get rid of something that my mother loved so much?
“Mom liked my hair,” I said, turning away from the mirror. “It broke her heart when Dad had it cut before.”
Grandma nodded. “You did look darling with it like that,” she said with a smile. “Though whenever a guest saw your pictures, they always told us we had a very beautiful granddaughter.”
I could only imagine how that made Pop feel.
“What bothers him so much about my hair?”
She put her hands on my shoulders. “Honey, your grandfather loves you very much. Sometimes I think it's difficult for him to understand things. He’s an old fashion man. Even in the 60s when the boys were growing their hair long in rebellion of the war, your grandfather grumbled. Though of course being a Marine probably didn’t help. He’s set in his ways. It takes time for a man like that to change.”
“I’m his grandson though?”
“I know and he loves you,” she said, kissing me on the forehead. “Now then, how about we eat this soup.”
Grandma changing the subject was enough to tell me to not dwell on it. As much as I loved Pop and I did, I knew he wasn’t going to change. He wouldn’t outright hate me for being different bedside but he would never truly embrace it either. The fact that I loved my hair the way it was and he didn’t, well we’d have to live with that. I’d deal with it if things got out of control.
Like my mother did all those years ago when she finally left.
Trying not to think about that, I followed Grandma back over to my bed.
She handed me the tray with the soup. It was still hot, the steam rising off of it. I took my first spoonful. Gods, it was so good. I couldn’t help but smile. She smiled too then excused herself, apparently, there was work to be done around the house. I sat and ate the soup, Argos watching every spoonful with envious anticipation. I knew better than to give him any because it would be a dangerous slope of no return from there. So I ate it all myself. When I finished I set the tray on the bedside again. Then I retrieved one of my comics. It was a new one.
Something grandma was nice enough to pick up for me from Edgerton. That and some new school clothes. The van was still delayed.
I rolled onto my stomach to read it, putting my feet in the air as I did so.
I smiled as I flipped the pages, absently pushing some hair behind my ear as I did so.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew I waking up.
I was under the covers too.
Sitting up slowly, I looked around. My comic was on my bedside table, the tray was gone and Argos as sleeping on the floor near the door. Turning to look at the clock on the wall, I saw it was three forty-five. Not only did I doze off but I’d been asleep for at least four hours. Which meant Sara would probably be home any minute. I looked over to her side of the room and groaned. She and Aunt Grace were a lot alike. When we arrived here, that side of the room looked like a bomb had gone off. There were clothes all over the place, boxes still sitting ready to be packed. Her dresser and vanity were cluttered with crap too.
Much like how my sister did things.
I noticed that Sara only tossed the boxes into the corner.
Nothing else had been touched.
Typical.
Crawling out of bed, Argos perked up. He watched me, probably making sure I wasn’t going to get sick again. He’d been a real trooper through the last few days. When I came home from school Wednesday afternoon, he never left my side. All through that first night, he sat with me, making sure I was ok. The last couple of days had been the same. When I started to feel the urge to puke, he went with me to bathroom. He sat outside the door and waited for me too. It was almost as if someone had trained him to do these type of things. It made him more special than I already thought he was.
It also made me realize that I was a fool for forgetting him.
Ok so maybe not a fool because I was five after all.
Argos followed me as I walked across the room, grabbing a towel from the floor as I made my way out the door. At one time the towel was probably on my dresser. Grandma had been setting them there the last few mornings for me. This morning I’d been too sick to take a shower. I was feeling a little better now. This was the first time I’d woken up without the urge to puke for instance. Something told me that the last of this virus had finally passed from my system. Which was fantastic because I really wanted to get back to school.
I know what you’re thinking.
A kid actually wants to go to school?
The truth of the matter was simple, I was bored out of my mind. I’d been too sick to play games, too sick to browse the internet and definitely too sick to read my comics. Plus I really didn’t want to puke all over my cool stuff. So I’d pretty much been bed ridden for the last couple of days. This morning was the first time I’d picked up one of my comics in a few days. Well since that first night in the Delightful Bovine.
Something about it though felt off. I’m not sure but I’d never before fallen asleep while reading one for instance. Comics were meant to be light reading, full of action and adventure. Well, at least the ones I read anyway.
I made my way down the hall slowly until I finally reached the bathroom.
Downstairs I could hear Sara, talking with Grandma.
The conversation was too far away for me to make out words but I think my name was mentioned once or twice.
A second later, Sara was pounding up the stairs.
In her hand was a rolled up bunch of papers.
“Your dweeb friend got your homework,” she said, waving the paper roll in my face.
“Just put it in the room. I’ll look at it as soon as I’m done with my shower.”
“Whatever,” she said then turned her attention to Argos. “C’mon boy.”
She slapped her legs, trying to get him to follow her.
Argos didn’t even look at her.
“Stupid dog” she mumbled as she headed into our room.
Good dog.
So far Sara had been unsuccessful to get his attention. It was starting to annoy her too. On more than one occasion I heard her mumble, “What’s the point of having a dog if it only likes one person”. I couldn’t help but smile whenever I heard her say it. Sara wasn’t used to people ignoring her or downright rejecting her. Back home she was a star on the volleyball court. All of her peers loved her. She was also pretty popular outside of her stupid sport too. I think Argos completely ignoring her really pissed her off. For me, it was kind of nice actually. It meant for once there was something that my sister had no part in, no matter how much she tried.
“You keep on ignoring her, boy,” I said, rubbing his head before stepping into the bathroom.
Argos waited outside like usual.
I wasted no time getting into the shower after a quick pee.
As soon as the water hit me though, something felt off. I can’t really describe it with words though. It was almost as if my skin was more sensitive or the water was more...I don’t know. As it cascaded off my body, I felt almost euphoric. I’d never felt that way, especially with water. Most of the time, I tried to take the quickest shower possible. It was the only way I could do so with my mild aquaphobia. The nagging anxiety was still there of course---I don’t think I’d ever get over that---but it was overwhelmed by this new sensation. I tried to push both away as I tried to enjoy the shower but it was hard.
In the end, I just got out.
Toweling off, I stopped to look in the mirror again. I didn’t look as disheveled. The shower had done its purpose. Taking a step closer to the mirror, though, I noticed that the area around my nose was slightly bruised and swollen. That was a given, seeing as I was hit there a few days ago with a basketball. It was actually a miracle that he didn’t break it. It also looked a lot better than it had. When it first happened, my nose was all red and puffy. My father wanted to rush me to the hospital even. After Dr. Riley arrived though he checked it out and told him everything was fine. The bruising I realized must have gone up to under my eyes a bit too because the dark circles were now gone.
It was strange.
At least for me.
I didn’t really know much about this stuff, to be honest.
Trying not to think more about it, I turned away from the mirror and continued to towel off. I ended up using two towels, something I’d been doing lately because of my hair. One went around my waist, of course, the other I was currently using on said hair. Walking out into the hall, Argos was waiting as usually. He stood and followed me back to the room.
“Your crap is on the bed,” said Sara as I entered.
She was on her bed, reading one of her teen magazines.
She didn’t even bother to look up at me.
Sitting on the corner of the bed, I picked up the “crap”. Unrolling my homework, I took a look at what I had. A list of chapters to read for English, several Math work sheets, a list of chapters to read for Earth Science. Most of it pretty easy and straightforward. Mr. Greene put in some chapters too and a note that told me to get better soon except written in Greek. Thankful my rudimentary understanding of my father’s language was enough to help me understand what he wrote.
The last bit of “crap” was a note.
I almost missed it actually.
I was carrying the sheets over to my desk when it actually fell out onto the floor.
Picking it up, I noticed a quickly scrawled message:
You ok?
Beneath that was a number.
“You got this from Rex?”
Sara looked up from her magazine. “I don’t know his name. Glasses, looked like a younger, nerdier version of Lucas.”
I nodded, holding up the note. “You know where this came from?”
It wasn’t Rex’s number.
“How the hell should I know.”
I took a look at the note. I didn’t recognize the handwriting. Not that I really would have. I’d only been in this town for a few days now. I’d only had one day of school too. It wasn’t really a long time to get to know someone enough to know their handwriting. Though I could rule out some people from the evidence I currently had. Mainly Rex and Mr. Greene. The handwriting in Mr. Greene’s note didn’t match the one on this one. Even if he did write it, why would he put it on a separate note and give me his number? That was kind of creepy.
It wasn’t Rex’s handwriting either.
One I already had his number.
Two, I knew what his handwriting actually looked like.
When he’d given me my homework from yesterday,there was a post it on there, with him explaining some things to me. Specifically that he was asked to give me my assignments. After which he even signed his name. So whoever wrote this note to me was someone I didn’t know.
Or didn’t know well enough.
I heard Sara groan.
“You’re so annoying.”
A second later, she was standing next to me with phone in hand.
She took the note from me and quickly dialed the number then handed me her phone.
“You’re welcome.”
She stomped back to her bed. I only had a second or two before it started ringing. Cursing my sister, I put the phone to my ear. It rang a few times before ultimately going into voice mail.
The voice that spoke surprised me.
“This is Clara. I’m not here. Sucks to be you.”
There was a beep for me to leave my message but I was too stunned to leave one.
I clicked off instead.
Clara, the number belonged to Clara?
I almost dropped Sara’s cell from the shock of it. Instead, I tossed it back to her. She barely saw and caught it in time, shooting me a nasty glare. I ignored it though. I was still flabbergasted. A note and a cell number from a girl who told me to leave her alone. What were her exact words again? Oh yeah, “Go away, I’m poisonous”. How does that suddenly turn into Are You Ok, and here’s my cell just in case you want to talk? It made no sense. Did this girl want to be my friend after all? Or was it just concern for my well being? And why the cell number?
“Hey you even listening to me,” said Sara, a little louder.
“Sorry did you say something?”
Had she been talking?
“Yeah, dip shit. Next time you throw my phone like that...”
“You’ll what?”
Sara stopped, giving me a startled look. She liked to sling out the idle threats, “do this or I’ll...” or something similar. She never did carry through with any of it. I knew she had the means to do so. She was pretty tough for an eleven-year-old. I think I mentioned before how she could probably kick my ass. The point is though, she never actually did anything. She was all talk and no action. She usually got away with it too, especially with Dad. I was frankly getting tired of it.
“I...ummm...I.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just fuck off then.”
Sara’s mouth had been hanging open but slowly closed.
She slid off her bed and slowly made her way to the door, stopping a second to look at me. She looked like she was about to say something else but apparently thought better of it. Shaking her head again, she quickly left the room.
Good riddance.
Now that she was gone, I could finally think straight. Of course, that didn’t help at all. I couldn’t help but think about Clara for the next several minutes. It was a repeated loop of thoughts too. Did she like me or did she hate me? I finally couldn’t stand it anymore so I decided to start my homework. Maybe if I could get my mind off of her and the note, I could think straight.
It worked too. It usually did.
I got lost in my work. Thank the Gods for that.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's Note So it occurred to me that I had 2 more chapters of this story that I wrote but never got around to publishing. The plan I think was to hold onto them until I could write a couple more, help me build up a buffer. The problem is, I never did get around to writing anymore chapters after these two. I have them planned out but I got side tracked as I often do. Someone the other day PMed about these two chapters though, telling me they realize I'm not finished with the story but were wondering if I could post the chapters anyway. So I said sure.
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8.
“Say ahhh.”
Dr. Riley stuck one of those large wooden popsicle stick things in my mouth. He went a little too far back with it though because I nearly choked. So instead of “ahhhing”, I ended up coughing and gagging. He took his merry time with it though, waiting a full ten seconds before pulling it out. I could have punched him. Instead, I shot him a glare that he either ignored or completely misinterpreted as something else.
“See, now that wasn’t so bad, right?”
I so wanted to curse at him. A look from my grandmother told me that that might not be such a good idea.
Instead, I nodded, grandma smiled.
Dr. Riley turned to throw out the tongue depressor---yeah I know what its called.
While his back was to me, I took another moment to look around his office. It was quite a bit different than Nurse Bright’s office back at school. For one thing, this place looked more like a room in a house than an examination room. I guess that’s what happens when your office is a house. Or maybe was a house. When grandma brought me here I was a bit confused. I’d never seen a doctor’s office in an actual house before. The only thing that told people it was his office was the large sign out front. As we pulled into the little parking lot around back, I couldn’t help but wonder if the doctor lived here too.
Inside though, there was nothing really house like about it.
What had clearly once been a living room was now the waiting room, the small kitchen area was now the reception area. It still had a little sink and stove though, situated behind the receptionist’s desk. She was a nurse too I noticed. A middle-aged woman wearing a white outfit, her salt, and pepper hair bundled up under one of those old fashion nurse hats. The bedrooms in the house had been converted into examining rooms. When we entered, Dr. Riley came down the stairs to our right, so if I had to guess I’d say his office was probably up there. Or maybe his bedroom too?
Back in this room though.
The walls were covered with aging wallpaper. Some floral pattern that was definitely dated. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually seen wallpaper. Most people in those home improvement shows always tore it down. The hideousness of the walls seemed to pass onto the rest of the décor as well. The doctor either didn’t have any taste or he really needed someone to come in and update it. Not that he seemed to mind or notice for that matter.
“Are you still feeling sick?” he asked as he turned back around, holding a stethoscope.
He put those little things in his ear and the flat metal part on my chest.
I flinched because it was cold.
Why was that thing always cold?
Grandma put a hand gently on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. I think she thought I was scared or something. I wasn't but it was a nice gesture.
Though to be fair I didn’t want to be here.
I didn’t like Doctor’s offices. I didn’t like hospitals either. Every time I went to one I got this queasy, I want to puke feeling. It was no different now. I think the only reason I didn’t was that my body was getting sick and tired of throwing up. The funny thing about this was that I never felt this way with Nurse Bright. There was something warm and reassuring about her. When she spoke, I felt at ease and when she touched me, my whole body seemed to tingle with excitement. Some people might say that was sexual attraction. Sure I’d be a liar if I didn’t say she was pretty but it was more than that.
Different.
That feeling was not here though.
Dr. Riley gave off a completely different vibe altogether.
Whereas Nurse Bright fit her namesake, Dr. Riley should have been called Dr. Gloom and Boring. Ok so that wasn’t entirely fair but the man had the bedside manner of a pet rock and the demeanor of pocket lint. When I thought about small-town doctors they always seemed so warm and welcoming, with nice smiles and a lollipop to ease your pain. There were no smiles here and the only lollipops I saw were in the painting in his waiting room. This place and this man were dismal. It was kind of strange for this town actually. Even the outside of this building had a bright cheery disposition and to step inside was like walking into the beginning of Wizard of Oz.
There really is No Place Like Home.
“How’s that head of yours?” he asked.
I shrugged. “No more headaches.”
“Good.”
“Good as in I can go back to school on Monday?”
I was anxious to get back. I hated being out for this long.
“Too early to say,” he said, taking the little disc from my chest.
He then proceeded to check my eyes and my blood pressure. He didn’t say much for a bit then returned to his dresser. When he came back with a needle, I flinched. Not that I was afraid of needles but I was a bit surprised. I wasn’t expecting it.
“What’s that for?”
“I want to get a little blood for precautions.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Your development alarms me,” he said, preparing the needle.
As he stuck the needle into my arm, he asked a few questions. I’d heard them before. He wanted to know about puberty and if I’d seen any signs. My doctor back home had similar questions last time I went to visit him. Like Dr. Xavier, Dr. Riley didn’t seem overly concerned. With each answer I gave him, he nodded and told me it wasn’t uncommon. I already knew all that. What I didn’t know and what no one seemed to be willing to share was when things would start. Not that I was really concerned but it did bother me a bit. Back home, I was already one of the youngest kids in ninth grade, not to mention the shortest. I hated that I was born in April and that most of my friends were a few months older than me. Fiona even joked about how she was “robbing the cradle” by dating me. Her birthday was in December. So being fourteen and not starting puberty was a concern. It was a whole new ball game if I didn’t start to develop this year though. It didn’t scare me though. If by this time next year I was still me then I would be scared.
“I’ll make sure this sample gets to the university for testing,” he said, placing my blood filled syringe into a styrofoam cooler off to the right.
“So does this mean I can go back to school then?”
He nodded. “I don’t see any reason why not. I want you to avoid gym class for a few days though.”
He took out a small pad of paper, writing a quick note.
“For the school,” he said, handing the note to Grandma.
Grandma started to ask questions, mainly about my health. I half paid attention then excused myself. I walked out of the room and into an empty waiting room, even the receptionist was nowhere to be found. Shrugging it off, I made my way toward the door. I honestly just wanted to get out of there. The place was too depressing to stand in for a long period of time. Unfortunately stepping outside wasn’t much better for me. The pastel colors of Main Street seemed to be everywhere in this town. It was once again one of those blasts from the past. Even with the various piles of melting snow and the chill in the air, everything still seemed all happy and Pleasantville crazy.
Standing there was giving me a headache.
A bark interrupted me.
Turning, I found Argos sitting by the truck.
I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
Well, maybe a little. We did after all leave him at home. For some reason though, he just seemed to have this knack for showing up. If I had to guess, he probably jumped into the bed of the pickup without either Grandma or I noticing. If Argos was human, he’d definitely be the stealthy Ninja type. I suppose that’s what made him such a good guard dog. Out of boredom the other night, I decided to check online for his breed. I knew he was a German shepherd but he was unlike other Shepherds I’d seen. Apparently, I was right. He was actually a Belgian Malinois, a breed of Shepherd bred for security. I guess that made sense considering how guarded of me he was. What I did find interesting though was his fur color. Apparently, black Malinois weren’t very common.
So I guess that made me lucky.
Argos came wandering over, allowing me to scratch under his chin. The whole time though, his eyes were elsewhere. He was always alert, always watching. I looked too. The street was deserted though. I was starting to get a feel for this town. What I once thought was weird was just the way small towns like this functioned. Sure there were still plenty of weird things---the cows for instance---but you could find crazy stuff like that in any town.
Probably.
“Well that was certainly interesting,” said Grandma as she came up behind me.
“What’s that?”
Grandma didn’t say anything at first. She kept staring at me though. She even squinted her eyes for a bit but finally, she let out a little shake of her head and a chuckle. It was followed by a gentle hand on my shoulder. It kind of freaked me out a bit. Like there was something wrong with me.
Oh, Gods.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No, nothing.”
“What did you and the doctor talk about after I left?”
For some reason, I didn’t believe her.
She laughed again.
That wasn’t very promising.
She quickly apologized. “It's not what we talked about, well it is but not how you think. He was concerned about you not developing properly. We discussed it for a few minutes then he suggested you might need to see someone in Edgerton about it.”
I nodded, interrupting. “My doctor back home mentioned it too, last year.”
Grandma gave me another strange look.
“Honey, maybe we should take you to the hospital?”
Oh no.
“Did he say anything else?”
She shook her head. “Nothing physical but as we were leaving he told me I had a very healthy granddaughter.”
I groaned. So Dr. Riley was not only dull but senile too.
I mean the man had me with my shirt off for a few minutes.
“A lot of people say that Grandma. It's because of my late puberty and my hair.”
As if to demonstrate, I pushed some of it behind my ear.
Grandma reached out to touch my hair but pulled her hand back at the last minute.
“Perhaps we should get it cut, maybe trimmed a bit.”
I nodded. Ok, so I was finally ready to admit it was a bit long. It was one thing to be mistaken for a girl every once in a while but it was another for everyone to think I was one. The “not caring” was fading and the annoyance was beginning to rear its ugly head. Not that I had anything against girls---they were great---I just didn’t want to be one. Nor did I want to be mistaken for one anymore. After puberty kicked in, maybe I’d revisit the whole longish hair thing again. Of course, after I got some of my father’s height and muscles. I mean there were still some pretty macho guys out there that had long hair. Of course, I couldn’t think of any at the moment but they were out there.
Grandma pulled out her smartphone. “I think I might be able to make an appointment for you at Sally’s.”
It was strange to see her with one. It just never occurred to me that someone her age would have something like that. I’m not sure why it was so odd though. I mean sure she would have one. She was human after all and most people had a cell phone. I guess it was just weird to think of my grandmother being like most people.
“Well, Sally can fit you in sometime next week at the earliest.”
“There’s no barber?” I asked, weary to go to a hair salon.
“There is,” she said, looking down the road. “Mel is a little old-fashioned though. He wouldn’t trim it, he’d shave it down completely. He served with your grandfather...”
Ah yeah, enough said.
I looked toward the direction grandma was pointing nonetheless. I hadn’t even noticed a barber shop when we drove through town earlier this week. In fact, besides the few places, I hadn’t really noticed anything. It made me sorta regret not insisting on an actual town tour. It also made me very curious to see what the town had to offer. I mean so far the only places I’d actually gone to were Connie’s place, the doctor’s office, and the school. Not much of a Whisper Pines’ experience if you ask me. If I was going to be living here, I really needed to get to know my new home.
“Grandma,” I said as we made our way to the truck. “You think I could stay here for a bit, walk about the town?”
“Are you feeling up to it?”
I knew what she meant.
“I’m good, I haven’t thrown up since last night and the nausea is all gone. I really want to look about the town. If I feel even the littlest bit sick I’ll stop and call you.”
I gave her a pleading look. I wasn’t really the master of it like Sara but I kinda knew grandma was a bit of a softy. She proved that to me in the last few days.
She sighed. “Well, I need to do some things around the house. You know the house number?” I nodded, she smiled. “Call me when you’re ready to come home. Don’t make it too late though.”
She called for Argos but he made no attempt to follow. Not that either of us was surprised. Instead, she shook her head and climbed into the truck. I watched and waited until she was pulling away from the curb before I started my “adventure”.
I think I might have been off in my earlier assessment of the town.
Sure it was still pastel colored and a blast from the past but not in the way I thought. It wasn’t like the people wanted it this way. It was more like one of those towns that clearly tried to change with the times without losing itself to it. Like my grandmother with her smartphone for instance. Even though everything looked old and outdated, it was still a pretty normal place. Kinda like the town from Gilmore Girls or Eureka from that SyFy show. Slightly quirky and idyllic but still just like any other town you might come across. Ok so maybe Eureka was a bad example but they looked pretty similar.
I started my tour going left down Main Street.
I found myself passing the various shops that Sara and I saw from the car when we first arrived. Our assessment of them was a little off too. I spent about an hour going into and out of a few of them. The one with the Cassette sign in the window was actually a little electronics store. The sign was outdated and they actually sold modern electronics. The owner of the shop told me it was something that he never bothered to remove. Next door to that was a little bookstore that I spent some time in. They had a small comic section in the back which was kind of cool. It didn’t have the largest selection but the owner promised he could order anything I wanted. I couldn’t help but smile at that.
The rest of the shops I passed didn’t really interest me.
There was a hardware store, some kind of hobby shop, a few locally owned clothing stores. On the corner was a diner called Marty’s. Across the street from that was a pizza place, Mario’s. Passing by that I saw a lot of teenagers inside. Around the corner was a movie theater. Not one of those large cineplexes like back home though. It was one of those old-time theaters with a marque and an actual ticket booth. Walking by I saw a bored teenager in said booth. So clearly they didn’t get a lot of business this time of the day. Looking at some of the movie posters I could see why most of those movies were outdated and on Bluray months ago.
Down from the theater were more little Mom and Pop shops.
Then the B&B of course.
I was actually surprised I’d already walked this far.
I knew the Bovine Delights was at the end of road. Turning around, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been walking for only a short while. Turning back to the B&B, I couldn’t help but smile a bit. I did notice it was pretty empty today though. Besides Beth’s SUV, there didn’t seem to be any other cars in the parking lot. So it looked like the Newlyweds had moved on too.
“Karrie!”
Oh great.
I groaned as I turned around, putting on a false smile for Connie.
She came running up to me, throwing her arms around me in a big hug. She wasn’t a bad person but her attention bothered me. I wouldn’t mind having her for a friend but she was a bit smothering. It was hard to go somewhere with her being there. Like at school the other day, I just wanted to find my own friends, not have her force me into friendships with hers. I know she was trying to be nice and I appreciated it but niceness can only go so far before its overwhelming.
“You’re feeling better?” she asked as she let me go.
Though it felt more like a statement than a question.
“No more headaches and vomiting,” I said, trying not to sound too gross about it.
She smiled. “Good. You going back to school then?”
“That’s the plan.”
It was too. It was one of the first things I wanted to discuss with Dr. Riley. It was the first thing that I said to him when I walked into his office earlier. I didn’t care what his diagnosis was, I told him I was going back to school. I hated not being there, I hated laying around doing nothing, neglecting my education.
“Good, the girls have been asking about you.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if she was added into that as well.
Connie was pretty forward with what she wanted. Attaching herself to me now made it clear that she wanted me. Not that I was denying it. I just wasn’t sure I felt the same. Sure I was still longing for Fiona but Connie was nice too. I’m not sure she was what I wanted though. She was pretty enough sure and she was nice but she was simple too. She knew what she wanted and she went for it. There was no mystery to her though, no complicated obstacles either. Connie was that kind of girl, the normal one who was around the corner that anyone could get.
Not like Clara.
Not that I wanted her either.
I just liked the idea of her.
“You ok?”
I nodded. “Sorry just thinking.”
“Anything interesting?”
“Yeah actually,” I said, trying to steer my thoughts away from girls though. “Where did the couple go?”
“Huh?”
I pointed to the parking lot. “You know the gold digger and her older husband?”
Connie followed to where I was pointed then shrugged.
“They left I guess. I don’t know. I never really noticed them.”
“How could you not?”
And what did she mean by that? She noticed them. She made a comment about how artificial the wife was.
“People come and go all the time” she shrugged again.
I wanted to press her on it but I decided it wasn’t important.
“So what brings you out and about today?” I asked, trying unsuccessfully to pry my arm from her grip.
“I was shopping of course!”
“Not at the mall?”
“I can’t drive yet and Beth is off, had to work.”
“She works?”
Connie laughed. “Yeah at Marty’s. Its a little diner on the corner. She’s a waitress”
I was about to mention I saw her SUV but I realized Marty’s wasn’t actually that far. Beth probably walked. I was a little floored though. I would have never taken her for a waitress. She was this carefree and wild girl. I half expected her to ride bucking broncos or something. Working as a waitress just seemed kind of mundane and simple for her. Then again I suppose Sky Divers had to have day jobs too. Like Aunt Grace for instance. Even though she was this crazy jet-setter, she still had to pay the bills. She did that with pen and paper. She was technically a Travel Journalist for some magazine. Like Mom, she went into journalism too, unlike Mom though she didn’t end up settling for a simpler life.
I thought about pursuing journalism too.
I wasn’t great with a camera like Mom but I noticed the details. It was something Mom said was a rare talent. It was also something she told me to never stop honing. She seemed to think I had the making to be a great investigative journalist because of it. I never really thought about it much before the accident. Afterward, though it was all I could think of. Well besides her being gone of course. So I made a vow to myself and to her to never stop paying attention. Its why I was so transfixed by certain things.
Like the cow and now this yuppie couple. There was just something about them that didn’t fit right. Like this town too. A giant jigsaw puzzle with one or two pieces not cut right.
“You’re doing it again,” said Connie, giving my arm a gentle squeeze.
“Doing what?”
“Zoning out.”
“Sorry.”
She shook her head. “No its kinda cute. I like the pensive look. You get this little line on your forehead” She touched my forehead with her finger. “Right there. It's really cute!”
Ok so that’s twice she’s called me “cute” in so many seconds.
She was definitely kicking her game up a notch or two.
Sadly flattery would get her nowhere with me.
I needed to distract her from it.
“Hey, so I was wondering,” I said quickly. “If you wouldn’t mind giving me the rest of the tour of this town. I mean I’ve walked Main Street already but I was wondering if maybe you could show me the rest?”
Connie smiled at that.
“I’d love too, kind sir,” she said “though I have to warn you, Beth wasn’t lying the other day. There really isn’t much to this place.”
I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t that far off.
I think I mentioned before how there were two roads that branched off from Main Street, going in two different directions. Well, it turns out central Whisper Pines was actually one giant circle. The two roads leading away from the town actually wrapped in around and back into Main Street. The one leading toward my grandparents’ farm was also the same that the school and a few other of the town’s larger structures was situated on. The other road was the one that led to Edgerton. It was also on this road where most of the people of the town actually lived. The development where we were going to live was actually outside of the town. Well still considered Whisper Pines, it was pretty much on the outskirts of things.
Connie didn’t bother taking me that far out.
She did take me down that road though. It took us about an hour to walk it.
It eventually led us back into Main Street of course.
In fact, we came back into town the very same way I entered it at the beginning of the week.
Kinda surreal.
“And that is sadly all this boring little town has to offer,” she said, bringing me back to where we started.
Argos had been our constant companion the whole time. It actually surprised me that a dog his age could walk as much as he was actually. Then again he was a dog full of surprises.
“So do you like pizza?”
I gave her a look.
“I’m an American teenager,” I said with a laugh. “Of course I like pizza!”
She pointed across the street.
I looked to where she was pointing. It was the same place I saw from earlier---Mario’s. A typical small pizza parlor. I’d seen something similar in movies. In fact, there were quite a few of them in Portland too. There probably weren’t many American towns out there that didn’t have some kind of pizza place. This one wasn’t as fancy as some of the ones back home though. It looked nice enough, there was an outside eatery and large windows that showed inside. It looked pretty packed for a Saturday afternoon too. Most of the people inside were teenagers, my age or older.
Connie took my hand and led me across the street, Argos closely following.
When we got to the restaurant, I made him sit outside.
It sucked but I knew there was no way they were going to allow a dog inside.
He sat like a statue.
Just like usual.
When we got inside, I quickly let my hand slip from hers. Not that I didn’t like the attention, I just didn’t want her to have the stigma of it. Most of the school thought I was a girl after all and it probably looked pretty bad her walking in hand and hand with me. She tried to grab my hand again but honestly, I didn’t want her too. Like I said Connie was great, just not dating material. There was a hurt look on her face for a second but it passed quickly. It melted completely when Britney called out from a corner booth.
Connie waved and tried to drag me over.
I wasn’t really in the mood for another go with the Heart Club though.
Besides, it didn’t look like there was any room at the table.
This place was after all standing room only it seemed.
I politely waved her off. Connie gave me a frown but once she looked at her table, I think she realized there was no room for me either.
I looked around the place, wondering if there was another table I might drop myself into too. It only took a few seconds to spot someone I didn’t want to see: my chief tormentor, Hunter. He was sitting with a bunch of his basketball teammates, they were laughing about something. All of them but Hunter. He looked absolutely miserable. I’m not sure if it was because of the multiple detentions that Miss Willis said she was going to rain down on his head or the crutches.
“Now that’s karma.”
Clara slipped up beside me, snarky as usual.
“What happened?”
“Mr. Big Shot thought he was untouchable. Apparently, he’s not.”
She shrugged and sauntered off to a table that had a couple of blonde cheerleader types sitting at it. She glared at them and the girls bolted, giving her the table. I couldn’t help but smile at that. I also found myself following her. I dropped into the booth opposite her. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem to care otherwise.
“There’s no other place to sit.”
“No spot with your buddy Connie?”
I groaned. “We’re not friends.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“I ran into her during my tour of your town.”
“Their town” she quickly clarified. “I refuse to call this place home.”
“Me either to be honest.”
She smirked at that.
For someone who didn’t want to be my friend, she was sure being friendly.
“So don’t take this the wrong way or anything but I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.”
“I do,” she said, taking a bit of some odd veggie pizza concoction.
“Then why give me your cell number?”
The look on her face was one of genuine surprise.
“I don’t give my cell number to anyone.”
I rattled off the phone for her.
“Bull shit.”
“Hey I was just as surprised as you but I called it, it was your voice mail.”
“I didn’t give you my number.”
I shrugged. “It was on a slip of paper with my homework assignments.”
I happened to have the slip with me actually. I stuck it in my back pocket last night, not bothering to change these jeans from the day before. I passed it over to her. Her eyes bulged out of her head when she looked at it.
“That’s my handwriting,” she said, looking pissed. “But I didn’t write this?”
“Well someone did.”
She narrowed her eyes into slits. She stood up, crumbled the piece of paper and threw it in my face. Then she picked up her pizza and walked away. Poof just like that. I watched her go, she dumped the pizza in the trash on the way out. Maybe that girl was poisonous. Then again what poisonous person would also stop to pet my dog on the head too? I’m not sure why she fascinated me so much but she did. Even after she left I couldn’t help but stare at the door. There was just something about that girl that drew me to her. There was also something or someone trying to push me toward her as well.
I mean if she didn’t write the note then who did?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
After a tragedy, Charlie and his small family move from the West Coast to the East and to a small and idyllic, dairy community to start anew. Soon he starts to realize the town seems a bit odd and the things there not so right, including himself.
Author's Note: It suddenly occurred to me that I still had another chapter of this written. Sadly this is the last one that I wrote. I suppose I could have waited to post this until I had more but I saw it sitting on my computer and said what the hell. I might still have a few people clamoring for a bit more of this story, I do hope to finish it one of these days because I had great ideas for it. I have to confess that it does end in a mysterious cliffhanger and I apologize for that. Also the picture for this chapter is supposed to be a school Earth science lab :D. Oh, also if there's any other unfinished story of mine you'd like to see more of, drop me a PM and I'll see if there's any stray chapters lying around :).
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9.
“Hmmm, that’s interesting.”
“What?”
“Did you know you have a cute little birthmark right here.”
Nurse Bright poked me in the chest, right below my right nipple. I shuddered at her touch, her hands were slightly cold. I was also awfully uncomfortable. It's not every day that a super attractive blonde woman pokes your naked chest. She moved to poke me again but I swatted her hand away then grabbed my shirt. I pulled it on over my head before she could say anything else.
“So besides the birthmark, is there anything else I should be aware of?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m sure Dr. Riley has asked but how are things going?”
I didn’t really understand the question.
“I’m good.”
“And how about You Know, down there?”
She pointed at my crotch. I blushed about three shades of red.
She was a school nurse. Why in the hell did she need to know those things?
“What does that have to do with being physically fit for school?”
“Nothing just concern,” she said then lowered her voice. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re not exactly the manliest man around. I also happened to take a look at your chart. I noticed that you haven’t gone through puberty yet either.”
“That’s not uncommon.”
“No but its unusual.”
“How did you see my chart anyways?”
Now I was really uncomfortable. Was she stalking me or something?
“I moonlight for Dr. Riley on the weekends. He’s getting kind of old as I’m sure you’re aware. He’s not as alert as he used to be. The beginning of the year he asked me to step in to help from time to time. I was there yesterday helping him with his charts when he passed me yours. He was a bit concerned.”
“I’m fine,” I said, maybe a little louder than I would have usually.
Honestly, I didn’t really feel fine. Not that I was still sick or anything but ever since the other day, something did feel off. Not that I was willing to discuss it with her of course. She was great, gorgeous but something about her made me cautious. It was that very same quirkiness that seemed to radiate with the rest of the town actually. It was hard to see if you didn’t know where to look for it but it was there nonetheless. Like the pastel-colored buildings or the weird Stepfordish way some of the women in town acted. Or how no matter how many times you told him, Dr. Riley still called me a “girl”. Not that Miss Bright had done those things but it was her overall perkiness and her borderline sexual innuendo way that made me a little nervous around her.
“So am I fit to go back to class?”
She nodded. “Class yes, P.E. you might want to give it another week.”
Oh, that reminded me of something I wanted to ask.
“What happened to Hunter anyway?”
“Oh, tragedy,” she said, shaking her head. “It happened right before Friday night’s game. The boys were goofing around in the parking lot, Hunter and another boy were showing off according to witnesses. He was taking a layup when a large gray cat ran out of nowhere and tripped him. Broke his ankle. He’s going to be out of commission for the rest of the year. Very tragic.”
Also very poetic.
I mean what were the odds.
He was a douche to me and Fate seemed to punish his Punk Ass for it. Not that I would have wished something like that on him but it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.
The weirdest thing happened surrounding it too.
It happened right after Clara left the table on Saturday. Well actually right after I was leaving too. I ordered a few slices to go and was almost to the door when Hunter stopped me. I thought for sure he was going to continue where he left off but he surprised me. He actually apologized. He told me he’d been mistaken about things and had been an idiot. He even offered me his hand to shake. I thought for sure it was some kind of trap but he was actually sincere. I didn’t shake his hand though. He might have been ready to say he was sorry but I wasn’t ready to accept it. Hunter was still a dick and it was going to take more than some half-hearted apology before I forgave him.
I pushed past him and out the door. He tried to follow but stopped when Argos growled.
That should have been the end of it but it wasn’t. He tried calling my house Sunday, trying once again to apologize. I avoided the call. Pop answered the second time though, told him not to call again. It made me wonder why it was so important for him to apologize anyway?
“So are we done now?”
She waved me off.
I sighed in relief, jumping off her exam table as I did so. I hated the fact that it was actually tall enough off the ground that my feet dangled from it. I hated being short. I definitely couldn’t wait for puberty to kick in finally.
I didn’t wait around to be formally dismissed from the room. I nodded my thanks to her, grabbed my pack and headed out. In the hall, Mr. Norris was standing by, waiting to pounce.
“Hall pass?”
“You’re kidding right?” I asked, pointing behind me. “I literally just walked out of the nurse’s office. I’m not skipping or anything.”
He gave me a nasty look. “I could write you up you know.”
I looked at my watch. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just didn’t want to be any later for Mrs. Gromley’s class. The woman already seemed like she hated me. I didn’t want to give her any more reason to do so. Thankfully Mr. Norris seemed to be all bark and no bite because he waved me on with another warning. I rushed down the hall, already later than I wanted to be. When I reached class and slipped inside, of course, all eyes were on me.
“Are we keeping you, Miss Kononas?”
The woman not only couldn’t get my gender right but now it seemed she couldn’t even remember my name.
“Its Mr. Kanenas,” I said, feeling particularly bold this morning.
I’m not sure where it came from actually.
“Yes well take your seat.”
I took my seat quickly. Clara looked over at me with a smirk before turning away.
The class seemed to drag on after that. Mrs. Gromley punished me for my boldness more than once though, calling on me constantly. I definitely wasn’t making any friends with her that’s for sure. When class finally ended, Clara smirked at me again:
“You just love making enemies, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “If the situation calls for it.”
She laughed.
Wow, she had a great laugh.
We parted ways after that. Second period was the only morning class she and I didn’t have together. Somehow it seemed dull without her. When we saw each other again in third period, she didn’t even look in my direction. So maybe first period was a fluke. Or maybe she only liked it when I made an ass out of myself. Thankfully no more of those opportunities presented themselves. Most of my other teachers called me by the proper gender and name. That didn’t stop things from being boring though. I’m not sure if I couldn’t concentrate or if I just didn’t care. The class work wasn’t hard or anything and I took notes, my mind just couldn’t seem to focus today.
Things only got more interesting when we got to Earth Science.
The class wasn’t arranged in desks but lab stations. Last week, I sat at one of the station’s alone. The teacher---Mrs. Ross---never even flinched. Today though she seemed to have a plan in place.
“Charlie?” she asked, not sure I guess but I nodded so she continued. “We usually assign seats based on lab partners, so why don’t you sit over there today, next to Miss Grimes.”
Oh, she was going to love that.
I was the first one in class so I took the seat I was offered. As the rest of the class filed in, no one seemed to care. That is until Clara arrived.
“What are you doing?” she asked when she dropped into the seat next to me.
“Sitting.”
“I know that dumb ass but why there?”
“Mrs. Ross told me to sit here.”
Clara groaned loudly. She looked to the front of the class, probably wondering if she could challenge the teacher. I looked up there too. Mrs. Ross was middle-aged and round. I didn’t know her all that well but she seemed pretty nice and easy going. She looked like the kind of woman who would cave under pressure. Clara, however, wasn’t the kind of person to push it. Instead, she spent the next few minutes glaring at the woman before she finally gave up.
Class went by pretty normally after that.
Well right up until the last ten minutes or so when Mrs. Ross dropped a bomb on us.
Well as defined by the rest of the class I’m guessing.
“Its come to my attention that most of you have lived in this town all your young lives?” she announced, the class murmured in response.
All except for me of course.
“Its also come to my attention that most of you don’t know this town at all” she continued. “I put a few questions about local landmarks on the test last week, places you should know but none of you actually did. Which brings me to the topic of our next lab project.”
There were a lot of groans.
Mrs. Ross was on a roll though.
“I want each of you, with your lab partner, to set out into this town and create a map. It can be as detailed as you want or as crude as you want. The better the map, the better the grade though.”
There was a lot of bitching from my classmates, including from the one sitting next to me.
Me, I thought it was a great idea.
I wanted to know more about the town actually. More importantly, I wanted to see more of it too. Sure I’d seen the town proper but there was a great deal more of it out there. Besides the farms, there was a large forest with a giant lake. My grandparents had a house on said lake. I also remember my mother talking fondly about the forest from time to time. It was one of the things she missed about living where we did. There were no good places to go hiking without having to drive for miles to get there.
So color me excited.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because this is going to be fun.”
“And they call me the freak.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Class ended after that.
I filed out of the room with everyone else, Clara not too far behind. When we got into the hall, she grabbed my arm, pulling aside.
“I want to get this over with as fast as possible,” she said with a grunt. “I’ll meet you at your locker after school so we can get started?”
“Sure, looking forward to it.”
I was too.
Clara gave me an odd look before disappearing down the hall into the mass exodus toward the cafeteria.
I shook my head before following suit.
The rest of the day went by slowly.
Slower than usual I think because I was anticipating the end of it.
It didn’t help though that everything seemed to bore me.
I finally decided to sit with Rex and his friends at lunch. Though I had to promise Connie I would alternate days with her and Rex. Rex’s friends though were sadly no better than hers. After they got over the initial shock of having a “chick” sit with them, they only got worse from there. One, no matter how many times I told them I was a guy they didn’t seem to hear me. And two, they were bigger nerds than me. Sure I kinda saw that coming when I saw them last week but I thought for sure they weren’t as bad as I imagined. I was dead wrong. I liked all things sci-fi, video games, and comic books just like any other red-blooded geek but these guys took it to an all new level. At one point I thought there might actually be a fist fight after a Star Trek/Star Wars debate went sour.
Rex stayed out of it too I noticed.
So my earlier assumption about these guys was probably right.
He only sat with them because he had no one else.
After lunch, things only got worse. Hunter tried again to apologize to me but I was able to outrun him. Hey, it's easy when one of us has crutches. It worked too until we got to gym class of course. What with me not being allowed to play because of my recovery, guess who I had to share the bleachers with. Fortunately for me, they were big bleachers and he had a hard time navigating them all the way to the top. Plus the Coach wanted him to stay as far from me as he could.
I dodged him the rest of the day too.
That is until now.
I thought I was in the clear after leaving ninth period. Everything was pretty great too. I finally finished my first full day of school here at Whisper Pines High and I was going to be spending the afternoon with Clara, things were finally looking up.
Sadly it wasn't her waiting for me at my locker.
“Coach said to stay away from me.”
I tried to push him aside but he was bigger than me. He was also standing right in front of my locker, using those damn crutches of his to anchor him in place. I suppose I could be an ass and kick one of them away but who does something like that. Well maybe besides the person currently on the crutches.
“Will you talk to me now?”
“There’s nothing to say. You said your piece on Saturday. You apologized for being a dick and I told you to go fuck yourself. So apology not accepted.”
Hunter looked flustered. I flinched, waiting for the whatever was to come.
I even closed my eyes.
When nothing happened, I reopened them to find him looking almost sad.
I sighed. “Why is it so damn important that I apologize anyway?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Usually, when someone apologizes, the other person accepts it. It's just the way things are.”
“Why should I accept it, you were a dick to me?”
Hunter sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
“I said I was sorry about that. You confused me. I don’t like that. I see you and my mind tells me one thing and I know its wrong and I don’t...” He cursed. “Even now. I mean are you sure you’re a dude?”
I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure.”
“Shit, look forget it ok. I’m sorry about what happened. You don’t need to say anything in reply.”
With that, he finally moved away from my locker then started to hobble down the hall.
A small part of me actually felt a bit sorry for him.
A very very small part though.
“What did your Stalker Boyfriend want?” asked Clara, appearing a second or two later.
I groaned. Of course, she saw all that.
“Apparently he wants me to accept his apology.”
“Did you?”
“Hell no,” I said defiantly.
Clara smiled. “Well, maybe you have some redeeming qualities after all.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that.
Who knew Clara could be funny.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked as I started putting books away and getting others.
“I thought maybe we could start the project, maybe over at my house. It should be fairly quiet right now.”
At her house, possibly alone?
Someone pinch me now.
“Sure, let me call my grandma first.”
I put the rest of my stuff away, making sure I had everything I needed. After closing my locker and getting my coat and pack, I pulled out my new cell. It was a gift from my grandmother. She did a little shopping for me yesterday. Besides some more clothes, she presented me with a new cell. It was a fancy smartphone like hers, tied in with her payment plan. She said she noticed the one I was using was pretty old and thought I needed an upgrade. I didn’t complain. Especially because that tool from the convenient store kept texting me on my old phone, trying to ask for a date. I tried ignoring him until I finally got fed up and told him I was only into girls. That stopped him but it still freaked me out that he had my number.
The new cell changed all that.
I made a quick call home. Grandma answered quickly and I got permission to go to Clara’s. I just had to promise to be home before dinner.
“Arrangements all made,” I said, putting the phone away.
“You live with your grandparents?”
“For now,” I said with a groan. “The movers got lost.”
Ok so not lost. After fixing the broken truck, they actually got our address all messed up. The truck that was supposed to be here this week actually ended up going to Florida. Now I have no idea where any of our stuff is. Dad is furious though. Not that I blamed him. Thankfully I didn’t really mind. I kinda liked living with my grandparents. The only true complaint I had was not having my large comic collection to read and re-read.
“That kinda sucks.”
I shrugged. “I’ll survive.”
I would too.
“C’mon, my ride is this way.”
I followed her through the hall, wondering what was going on. Clara was fourteen like me so there’s no way she was old enough to drive. She didn’t look like someone who had a parent drive them to school either. So I was a bit surprised when we finally got outside. It was the back parking lot and there was a black BMW waiting for us. It was a newer model and the man standing next to it was wearing a crisp black suit, his head shaved bald. For a second I thought he was Jason Statham, the two of them could have been twins.
“Joe, this is Charlie,” she said, pointing to me. “He’s coming home with me today.”
The driver---Joe---nodded. “As you say, Miss Grimes.”
He opened the back door, Clara slipped inside so I quickly followed.
“You have your own driver?” I asked, amazed as Joe shut the door behind us.
“I have nothing,” she said with a grimace. “My Step Dad does. He insists I use his driver to go to and from school.”
I could see that she didn’t like it. I also could see why she had him park back here.
There was no one else around.
She didn’t want anyone to know she got this kind of treatment.
We started driving. Joe took it nice and slow in the parking lot but picked up a bit of speed as we hit the road. I quickly noticed that we weren’t going to the town proper though. We were following the very same road that led away from town, going toward Edgerton.
“Is your Dad rich or something?”
“Step Dad” she clarified “and sorta I guess. He’s the Mayor.”
I nodded. I think I understood.
“And why doesn’t the Mayor live in town with the rest of the people?”
She scoffed. “Because he’s an ass.”
I didn’t ask any more questions.
It didn’t take us long to get to our destination. As we got closer, I grew a little excited. I knew where we were going. I knew because I’d seen many pictures of the place: Pine Acres. I knew it so well because it was the very same gated community development that my day bought a house in. Clara and I were going to be living in the same development. I didn’t realize it was so tight with security though. When we approached the development, we actually had to go through this huge electronic gate. There was a guard house and everything. At the sight of the car though, we were buzzed inside. I watched with interest. Even my old development back home wasn’t this high tech.
I watched as we drove on.
On either side of road were large McMansions. Not quite the same but pretty close. Though some had car ports, some had two car garages and things like that. Most, if not all of them had For Sale signs in their lawns though. I wasn’t expecting that. The way Dad talked about this place, it would be teeming with people. Unfortunately, he was probably just trying to make Sara and I excited. I hated this place for months though. Ever since I learned we were moving. Even when Dad showed us pictures. The house was bigger than our current home, there was a large yard and an even larger pool. Sara and I were able to pick out our own rooms and everything. It still didn’t make me like this place any better though.
That kind of changed when I got to town though.
Not that I hate living with my grandparents, I loved it actually. It was nice to have home cooked meals and a motherly presence again. It just didn’t feel like home. Sure it was home like but it wasn’t our own place. I wanted my own place again. My own room, my own privacy.
As we were driving along, I saw it.
My place.
Our place.
It looked like all the other houses around but it was the only one on the street that had a Sold sign. That wasn't why I recognized it though. I knew it was our house because of the blue door. It was just one of those weird things. It was something Mom always did. She told me once that it had been a dream of hers to live in a giant white house with a blue door. We used to have a blue door at home. It was one of the things that Dad made sure this new house had. He said it was a “way to have Mom still with us.”
“That’s my house,” I said excitedly as we passed.
“What?” asked Clara, apparently lost in her own thoughts.
“That house back there, the one with the blue door,” I said, pointing but the car was already past it. “That’s my house. Or it will be, once the movers finally get unlost.”
Clara looked but we were already way past it.
“I’ve seen it. Only place with some color.”
“Mom’s idea.”
I let it rest at that. I wasn’t ready to tell this girl my whole life story after all.
She didn’t ask either so I was glad for that.
The rest of the trip didn’t last much longer. I noticed the development seemed to go around in a circle and our particular path was leading us to a large house on a small hill. I say large house because it seemed much larger than the others. There were also trees in the yard with some topiaries and what looked like several small flower gardens. It was a place that had been landscaped and had been there for a while. It didn’t surprise me one bit when the BMW pulled into the long driveway. The car went into a large garage, the door closing slowly behind us. I noticed a navy blue SUV in there as well.
A moment later, Joe got out of the car and opened the door for us again.
“Thanks, Joe,” said Clara with a small smile.
Joe remained expressionless.
I followed Clara out of the car and through a door she opened.
It led into the rest of the house proper. Well actually into a small laundry type room. Clara kicked off her boots so I did the same. I looked around, seeing a washer and dryer that looked practically brand new. I tried not to think about it as Clara led me through another door and into a very large kitchen. In fact, you could almost fit the whole of my grandparents’ first floor into this kitchen. Ok so maybe it wasn’t that big but it was still pretty massive. It was one of those open arrangement ones too, leading directly into the dining room. There was a lot of lighting, an island and the dining room had one of those large walls with tall windows that looked onto a very spacious backyard. I could even see a pool.
It was actually very similar to the layout of the house Dad bought.
Only much much bigger.
“You want a drink?” asked Clara as she went to the fridge.
“Sure, just anything but milk.”
I’d had my fair share of it over the last week or so. Not that I had anything against it or anything but when you live on a dairy farm, you get tired of it pretty quick.
Clara seemed to read my mind. She handed me a can of Diet Sprite.
“We don’t have any milk around here actually. Well its non-dairy, I’m lactose intolerant. Its soy milk I think or something. I never really pay attention.”
I nodded.
She led me over to the island where she sat on one of the stools there.
I couldn’t help but stare at her legs again but only for a moment. She was wearing a skirt again today. Another short black one, her legs encased in fishnets. Clara followed my eyes with her own but didn’t really say anything this time.
“Clara, is that you?” shouted a voice from some other part of the house.
Clara groaned. “Shit.”
A moment later, a young woman appeared. Ok not young young, maybe mid to late twenties. She was blonde and well endowed. She was also dressed in running clothes: sports bra and tiny shorts. She was glistening with sweat but I knew she couldn’t have been running around here. It was still pretty cold outside, forties or something. Though most of the snow was melting these days, there was still that late winter chill in the air. Spring was, taking its merry time around here.
The woman looked at me, surprised I was here.
“Oh we have a guest,” she said, the surprise was in her voice too.
“Julia, this is Charlie, my lab partner.”
There was disdain in her voice. I’m not sure if it was for me or for this woman though.
“Is that short for Charlotte or something?”
I rolled my eyes. Clara spoke for me.
“Its short for Charlie. He’s a boy.”
Julia looked me over, from head to toe. It was nice to have such an attractive woman show me such interest. Though from the look Clara was giving her, I could tell it was unwanted attention.
“We’re going to my room.”
Clara jumped off the stool, clearly annoyed.
I quickly followed.
She led me out of the kitchen and around the corner where a flight of stairs was waiting. Clara pounded up them, I had to run to keep up.
“Keep your door open!”
Clara huffed down the hall.
Her room was at the end of it. As we walked I looked at the other rooms. Only two had names on them I noticed. One said Kristina and the other Clarissa. If I had to guess I’d say there were Clara’s younger siblings. Not only because the door script was very girly but because each of the doors had little hearts and ballerinas decorating them. I tried not to think about them though. I couldn’t help but smirk thinking about Sara having something like that on her door though.
Not a chance in Hell though.
“In here.”
Clara pushed open her door. As soon as I stepped inside, she made a big show of closing it too.
Clara’s room was pretty big too.
It was nothing like I expected either.
It wasn’t overly girly but it wasn’t dark and depressing either. You could tell that a teenage girl lived here though. There was a vanity table and a couple of dressers. A computer desk sat in front of a large window that faced the back and there was a drum set. I wasn’t expecting that. On the walls were several posters from punk bands though. I found myself standing awkwardly near the door, staring at the one of the dressers and the large queen size bed dominating the center of the room.
Clara threw her bag on the bed then dropped into the computer desk chair.
“Your mother seems young and ummm nice,” I said, trying to find something to say.
Clara scoffed. “Stepmother and don’t let her fool you, she’s thirty-two.”
Wow, behold the wonders of modern surgery.
“So they’re both your step-parents?”
I was confused. How did that work?
Clara rolled her eyes. “Greg is my stepdad. He and Mom were married like a year before she died. I was six. He remarried the bimbo a few years later. Then she had the little brats.”
The Brats I assume were her sisters.
I nodded.
I guess that kind of sucked. I could only imagine what I would have done if both Mom and Dad were gone. I suppose she was lucky she had her stepfather, even if she didn’t think so.
“Don’t just stand there, you’re freaking me out.”
I walked further into her room. I decided that I would take a look around without really looking. I scanned the room with my eyes as I walked further into it. One of her dressers caught my attention because it seemed out of place. For one thing, it didn’t match the rest of the décor. Most of the rest of the furniture---including her bedspread---were a dull gray. This dresser was bright pink and it was covered in flower decals. The top of it was also cluttered with trophies and framed photos. The trophies were mainly for riding. There was a picture or two of a brunette and a chestnut horse.
“You ride horses?” I asked, pretty impressed.
“Not anymore.”
It also surprised me she was a brunette once. Looking at her now you could never tell. Though if you squinted, you could almost make out the freckles hidden underneath all her facial piercings and dark makeup.
The rest of the pictures were her and a few girls, one of them I recognized immediately.
A younger version though.
“You and Connie were friends?”
She laughed. “Like an eternity ago.”
But it wasn’t. The picture looked recent. Maybe a year or two old.
I started to turn away when I noticed a very familiar pendant sitting there.
“Wait, you’re in the Heart Club!”
I reached for the pendant but she was there at my side in a split second.
She smacked my hand away.
“That’s enough prying into my life thank you very much!”
It all made a certain kind of sense now. Why Connie hated her so much? Why Tracy started to mention another member? Also why Connie was quick to dismiss her. Clara had been in the Heart Club. They must have had some kind of falling out and now they all hated one another. It, however, didn’t explain who the other pendant belonged too. Clara clearly still had hers, so who was missing?
“Connie really hates you.”
“And I really really hate her,” said Clara, walking over to her bed and dropping down on the corner of it. “But we’re not here to talk about that, remember?”
So we weren’t.
I took a seat in the recently abandoned computer chair and the two of us got to work. We quickly worked out a game plan for our project. It was pretty straightforward. We would continue to meet like this for the next few days, at my house though. I guess Clara didn’t like my prying which was fine. We also decided to start the map there too. Clara had a program on her phone, some kind of GPS. We were going to use it to start mapping out the town. The core chunk of it would be done over the weekend though. It was all fine by me to be honest. I just liked the idea of spending more time with her. She wasn’t exactly Fiona but she was pretty close, even if Clara would never admit it.
We planned and talked about it for an hour before we called it quits.
“Tomorrow, after school, your place.”
I nodded.
“You don’t mind riding the bus, right?”
Clara groaned. “I’ll get Joe to drive us.”
With that settled, she made arrangements for Joe to take me home too. It was a little weird driving in the backseat though. Especially with no conversation. It did give me time to think though. I was fixated on the pendant. Connie said there were only five members of her precious club. Clara made six even if she was no longer a member. The way Tracy made it sound, there was only one other. So it really bothered me that there was someone else out there with a pendant. Also the initials on the back. Now that I knew Clara had a pendant, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was C.
So that meant there had to be an A out there somewhere.
So where was she?
Why did she leave her clothes and necklace?
And why didn’t the other girls mention her?
When the car finally got to the farm, I thanked Joe before getting out on my own. He nodded then slowly drove off. I watched the car drive off. I started toward the house when I noticed some commotion coming from the pens. There was a truck there and Lucas. He wasn’t alone though. He was with two others and they were currently trying to wrestle a new cow into the pen. I’d seen this before. They were bringing in a new cow the other day actually. I’m not sure why this one caught my attention so much though. I found myself intrigued though so I wandered over, stopping at the fence.
“Another new one?”
Lucas came over. “Yeah, your grandfather acquired some of the stock from a farm upstate. They’ve been bringing them in readily over the last few weeks or so. That stray you saw, for instance, she came from there.”
I nodded. I’d actually forgotten about her. Ok so not exactly forgotten. I’d been a bit busy, what with being sick and all. I found myself looking into the field of cows, trying to spot her but of course, they all looked the same now. There wasn’t even a spec of blue on any of their hooves. I shrugged it off before turning my attention back to this new cow. She was out of the truck and down the ramp, the two men pulling and pushing her into the pen. I started to turn away when I noticed something odd on her leg.
Ok not odd just weird.
It was a mark, almost like a tattoo but not.
It looked almost like a rose.
“Lucas, do they usually put brands down there?” I asked, pointing.
He looked too and shook his head. “There’s been a lot of oddities like that from that place. Your grandfather will get it taken care of though. In a few days, you won’t even notice. Then we’ll put our mark on her and that will be that.”
I nodded and started back to the house.
There was something about that mark though.
Something familiar.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note:Ok so here's a new story. I know most of you are thinking but wait he didn't finish the last one and technically the first part of Burning Bright is over. There is a second bit but I'm developing it slowly. This story will take place in the same universe as Its Just a Skirt and Its Just a Twin Thing. Skirt is over on Kindle now for those of you who didn't have a chance to read it here. I'm not going to repost it here so please don't ask. There is nothing really big connecting these stories so don't feel like you need to read the others to know what's going on here. Its more like a shared world. With that out of the way, I need to point out something different with this story. The main character in this story has a gender. That gender will not change throughout the story. What will happen however is that person's need to present themselves the way they feel they need to be presented. There will be plenty of flip flopping back and worth. I'm having fun with this story. I'm currently writing Ch.4. My plan once again is to post one chapter a week. I hope everyone enjoys Mac's fun journey.
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1.
“Prove true imagination, o prove true...”
I knew the line pretty well. Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, spoken by Viola in Act three, scene four to be exact. I always loved the great Bard’s prose and not because I was a Drama major. No there was something about his words. When I read them I was taken to a different place and a different time. I became someone different too. That last bit was the most important thing for me. Being someone different. Not that I didn’t like being me, I loved myself but sometimes I wish I was someone else too. I think the Twelfth Night summed up my life pretty well, someone pretending to be someone they’re not.
“Very good, Miss Delaney, now let’s hear from...”
Mr. Cooper, our drama teacher, looked around the room. He was scanning our faces, probably looking for someone with a blank and clueless expression. He found it a moment later when he called upon Mark Biggs. Unlike myself, Mark definitely didn’t want to be here. Whereas this was my first choice for a Ninth period elective, someone like Mark was clearly put here. It didn’t help that this was the last day of school before summer break. No one was really into class today. Except perhaps Mr. Cooper. He wanted to end things on a high note. Clearly, that meant torturing everyone with Shakespeare.
Well everyone except me.
I loved it.
Mr. Cooper knew that too. After all, I was the only one paying attention.
Mark groaned. “Its the last class of the day, Mr. C...”
“Yes and no reason to slack off because of it,” said our overzealous educator. “Now please pick up the line where Elise left off.”
Mark groaned again. “It's a chick’s part.”
Mr. C. looked crossed. “There are no true “chick” parts in Shakespeare, Mark. I’ll have you know, every part was played by a man back in the day, including the women parts. Most were in fact played by boys around your age.”
There were several groans from the rest of the class.
We’d gone through this all before.
Most of the guys in class had the same argument that Mark had as well.
Mr. Cooper often said that there “were no male and female parts in theater, only actors and their chosen role to play”.
“I still don’t want to read a stinking girl’s part” grumbled Mark.
A basketball player, Mark probably thought reading a few lines outside of his gender somehow reflected poorly on his masculinity. It was stupid if you ask me. Reading some lines in a play wasn’t going to make you a girl or even gay. If anything it was going to make you more masculine, at least in my humble opinion. I mean these lines were written for females but read by men back in the day. Men not afraid to dress up like girls in order to get paid. It was an honor to read those lines.
Ok so maybe I was over thinking it but to complain about it was just plain stupid.
Unfortunately for my opinion, a lot of the other guys were murmuring their agreement to Mark’s statement. If this had been the beginning of the year, I’m sure Mr. Cooper would have made an example out of all of it. Being the last day of school though, the man didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Looking at him now, I saw the look of defeat on his face. All year he’d been trying to educate these very same Neanderthals and had failed at every chance. I think at this point it was safe to say that one couldn’t teach idiots new tricks.
That didn’t stop me though.
I grabbed my book, stood up and recited the rest of the line.
“That I, dear brother, be taken for you”.
Mark of course glared.
Mr. Cooper smiled.
“Thank you, Ken.”
I smiled and sat back down. Mark continued to glare at me until the bell rang. As soon as it did, whatever hatred he had for me was forgotten in his mad rush to be the first out of the room. The first to freedom for the next three months. I took my time leaving. As excited as I was for summer vacation to finally be here, I knew running like a fool wasn’t going to get me there any faster. I slowly gathered my things, putting away my notebook and folder. The rest of the class , by the time I was done.
“Mackenzie, you have a moment.”
Mr. Cooper was gathering his things too.
I nodded and slowly walked over to the desk.
I was a bit surprised that he called me by my full name though.
Not too many people did.
To be fair though, I went out of my way to make sure it didn’t happen. Not that I hated my name or anything, I loved it. It's just at school, I’ve always been “Ken”. It made things easier for me. It helped me separate my life. Helped me pretend to be the person I was not. Which person was that? Well, the one I let everyone think I was. This person. The shy kid in the oversized hoodie and baggy clothes, who generally kept to himself and avoided confrontation whenever he could. It was a masquerade I’d been using since middle school when puberty hit and well my life changed forever.
“What’s up, Mr. C?”
Mr. Cooper shuffled his papers.
Standing in front of the desk, I couldn’t help but notice how drastically different the two of us truly were.
Mr. Cooper was short with a receding hairline and a full bushy beard. I was tall, thin and in desperate need of a tan. I blamed that last bit on my mother’s Nordic and French genes. To be fair, I could almost blame everything on my mother. She was tall and thin too, part of which made her such a successful model in her youth. More on that later though. Looking at Mr. Cooper, I could see he was a man in desperate need of a vacation. He looked overworked and underpaid. A man who spent far too many years watching things happen and not enough time doing them.
I wonder if he went to the gym?
“So” he huffed, wiping a sweaty brow. “Have you give any more thought to the summer internship?”
The Internship.
I was wondering when he was going to bring that up.
Mr. C. was a strong advocate for helping students achieve their full and true potential. He always went out of his way to do so too. Like with me. He tried as hard as he could to give me a lead in all the school plays and pushed me to do my very best no matter the role. That drive even made it out of school as well. Our local theater held productions all year around. Most of them were pretty low key affairs, nothing too fancy. Over the summer though they went all out. That included internships for high school seniors---like me. Well like I was going to be next year. It looked good on a resume and definitely looked good on a college application.
“I don’t really know if its right for me...”
His frown said it all.
“You have talent, Ken,” he said, switching back to my preferred name. “I hate to see students with talent waste it when they could be doing so much more.”
I’d heard that before.
From him in fact.
I loved being an actor. I loved being on the stage, performing. I’m just not sure it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I knew what acting and showbiz did to a person. I’d heard it first hand from my mother. I also lived a bit of it myself. Being in the lime light was not all that it was cracked up to be and there were consequences too. Sometimes very bad ones. I’m not sure I was ready for that. Especially when I was the way that I was.
“My family has plans this summer too, sir.”
His frown disappeared but he nodded.
“Just please give it some thought.”
I promised I would before wishing him a “Happy Vacation” and left the classroom.
The hall was pretty much deserted which was fine by me.
Less people was always better.
I didn’t willingly draw attention to myself but sometimes it happened. I definitely wasn’t the tallest or the most popular kid in school. Not by a long shot in fact. I was, however, one of those guys that some people judged on looks alone. Because of my fair skin and soft features, some of my more idiotic peers seemed to think I was a “queer", “sissy”, or a“fag”. You know the delightful things morons said when they were trying to be cruel. The stupidest thing about it all is that these idiots thought that because someone looked a certain way it automatically defined who they were. Stereotypes and profiling were bull shit. Long hair on a man made him either a pervert or a freak, being overweight made you a slob, wearing too much makeup made you a tramp. The list could go on and on. It was shit that this culture defined people on how they looked and not on who they really were.
I was girly looking so I must be gay.
It was stupid.
Thankfully I had none of that to deal with right now.
There wasn’t a jock or idiot in sight as I made my way to my locker.
There was, however, someone waiting for me.
I can’t say I’m surprised either.
“Hey Tess,” I said on my approach.
It was hard not to find her at my locker, I mean hers was right next to it. We were Locker Neighbors. We’d been that way for three years now. However, it wasn’t until this year that we really started talking. It was purely by accident too. One day toward the beginning of the year, I noticed her putting a small poster of Tara McGee up on the inside of her locker door. I wasn’t a huge country music fan but you’d have to be living under a rock if you didn’t know who Tara was. I will openly admit that I did find a few of her songs to be catchy and she wasn’t half bad to look at either. I let slip that I liked one of her songs and things sorta moved on from there.
Every time we met at our lockers, we started talking music.
Tess had a varied taste.
Not just the country music pop stars either.
My taste in music was strangely much like hers.
Our weird friendship grew from there.
I say “weird” because we didn’t really socialize outside of the hall and only at our lockers. Tess and I didn’t run in the same social circles. She was popular, a cheerleader. She was also dating Brian Ross, a football jackass I really despised. Hanging out is something neither of us was ever going to do. That didn’t stop us from talking though. I was even one of her multitude of friends on Facebook. She was one of mine too I guess. I rarely visited social apps these days so I’m not sure it really mattered.
“Hey Kenny,” she said with a smile.
Tess was the only one who called me “Kenny”.
I was pretty certain she thought my name was Kenneth.
I didn’t correct her.
Like I said we weren’t really friends.
"So I got you something for you,” she said, almost giddy with excitement.
Before I could ask her what, she took my hand and placed a flash drive in it.
Color me confused.
"Its my music, silly” she said, still giddy. “We’ve been talking about it all year. You know, all the stuff I like. So I figured I’d do you a solid and just rip it for you. I put my favorites on there. Now you can take a listen and hear what I’ve been talking about.”
“Thanks,” I said, a little surprised and confused.
I mean we had a purely platonic relationship. Hell, I wouldn’t even go that far to describe it. Like I said, “Not even friends” and yet here she was giving me something. Something I don’t even think I warranted having. I smiled anyway. I also felt a little awkward because I had nothing to give to her. Well, nothing as solid as a mixed playlist that’s for sure.
“I don’t really have anything to give to you.”
She shrugged it off. “I don’t want anything in return. I just thought maybe you’d like to hear what I’d been talking about all year around. It's also my way of thanking you too.”
Thanking me?
“For what?”
She smiled. “For being a guy that didn’t automatically try to hit on me the moment we started talking. It was kind of refreshing to know that there was at least one guy out there who isn’t a total pig.”
I won’t lie.
Tess was very pretty.
She had silky black hair, eyes so green they could have been emeralds and milky white skin. She was the kind of girl one might see on the cover of a magazine. There was no doubt in my mind why Brian and many others found her so attractive. She was one of those girls though. Not exactly high maintenance but one you had to go out of your way to impress. Nice clothes, nice car, lots of money. She was also dating someone. The first few things weren’t that far off for me to achieve. After all, my family wasn’t exactly poor and I could have a nice car if I wanted but I didn’t see the need to drive in the city. Everything was within walking distance. Clothes always seemed superficial to me. Dressing to impress seemed like a ridiculous concept to me and dating someone because they wore expensive clothes just seemed downright silly.
Then, of course, there was the whole dating someone else thing.
I wasn’t a cheater.
Breaking up someone’s relationship was shallow and mean-spirited.
If the person I lusted for was with someone else then it was my loss.
Brian was also complicated.
He was a type too. Not just a jock either. He was rich. His father had the majority of our city bought and paid for. I’m not sure exactly what he did but his name was everywhere. I don’t think it was anything illegal but you never could tell. Brian liked to flaunt it too. He had the expensive clothes and the nice car. He walked around like he owned the place. He acted like he was God’s gift to the world and everyone should bow to him. People like that made my blood boil. Entitled little pricks who used their parent’s wealth to make them seem important. Little people with little minds.
Some might say Brian was tailor-made for Tess.
Some also liked to say the two of them were alike.
I disagreed with that last bit though.
Tess was a nice person.
She was a bit stupid in her choice of mates but we both knew it wasn’t going to last. Brian was arm candy. When she got to college, she’d dump him quick. She’d find someone more suited for her tastes. Still probably rich but probably not as dense or beastly. Brian probably thought she was a notch on his belt when in truth, it was the other way around. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Brian himself actually introduced her to her future husband. Someone more rich and successful than him. That’s where Tess was heading and though I didn’t agree with it, I was happy for her too.
Getting back to the now though.
“I’m not like that,” I said.
She smiled, touching my arm gently. “I know, that’s why you’re such a sweety.”
She probably thought I was gay.
Hell, maybe I was.
I didn’t really know what I wanted.
I thought she was pretty but I had no sexual attraction to her. In fact, I don’t think any girls in the school were all that appealing to me. Pretty yes but not my type. I tried not to think about the boys much. They were there but I tried not to look at any of them for a long period of time. In high school, it was blood in the water. It was also a complication. I didn’t need any of those, not right now. I could deal with it in college. Though if I was going, to be honest, Steve Wright was really…
Nope, not going there.
“So, Kenny, what are your summer plans?”
Since when did we talk about anything other than music?
I shrugged. “My family usually goes to the Caribbean.”
“That sounds nice”
I shrugged again. “I think I might skip it this year.”
“Really, why?”
I almost shrugged again.
In truth, I didn’t really have an answer. Not a solid one anyway. There were a number of reasons, chief among them was surprisingly boredom. We’d been going on elaborate summer vacations since I was about six. The cruises started when I was ten. I used to think they were fun. For the first couple of summers, I’d look for the Black Pearl at every port we stopped at. Jax and Mom always used to get a riot out of it. My enjoyment with the cruises started to dwindle when I was about thirteen or so. I still enjoyed them but they started to get tedious too.
They only started to get fun again in the last couple of years though because my little sister, Claudia, was finally getting old enough to appreciate them. Last year though, it got boring again. I don’t think it was any one factor but I remember sitting around the pool at one of the many resorts, wondering what the hell I was doing with my life and being disappointed that I didn’t have a solid answer. Now here I was three months shy of my eighteenth birthday and I still didn’t have any answers.
“I’m just not interested in cruises anymore.”
A lie but a good one.
Tess looked like someone just kicked her puppy.
“I would die for a cruise” she gushed “my family visits relatives down south every year, really boring.”
I don’t know, it sounded kind of nice actually.
I didn’t really have a lot of relatives left.
My grandfather died two years ago. He and my grandmother used to run a B&B in the town of Starlight Cove, the place where my mother grew up. After Gramps’ death, Grams sold the place to a family friend and moved into a retirement community in Vermont to be closer to her sister. I hadn’t actually seen her or my great aunt Maggie since Gramps’ funeral. Not that I really saw much of them before that. Mom and her folks didn’t really see eye to eye. Well not since the whole modeling thing. Mom got discovered in a mall when she was my age, ended up a contestant on one of those reality TV shows, Teen Model Inc. I think it was called. Anyway, she was first runner-up in the end. Though she didn’t win, she somehow found herself on the cover of Sports Illustrated that year.
Her career skyrocketed pretty quickly.
Caroline Russel became a household name after that for a while. She did print ads, commercials, some TV, even a series of teen slasher flicks. All of it came to end when she was twenty. She got pregnant with me, the pressure of being in the spotlight got too much for her to bear and she quit.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Well not really.
There was actually an incident with a stalker. Some crazed nut who thought he was my father. He kidnapped me, lead the police on a three-day wild goose chase before he ended up turning himself in. He was arrested, of course, is currently serving out his twenty-year sentence somewhere upstate. Mom’s agent freaked, hired a bodyguard for her but Mom had enough. She quit shortly thereafter. The bodyguard stayed around though. Jackson Hodge, who eventually became my stepfather about six years after that. Then my little sister Claudia arrived about three years later.
Mom’s parents didn’t really come around until Mom decided to go to school. She took her mother’s maiden name---DuBois---and disappeared into obscurity. She resurfaced after college but this time as Miss Caroline DuBois, kindergarten teacher. She’s never looked back. Now almost forty, she enjoys every day of her new life. At least that’s what she keeps telling me anyway. I think she missed it though. Every once in a while I catch her going through her old boxes, looking at her old modeling portfolios. She’d never admit it of course. She once told me it was all like a strange dream, a whirlwind roller coaster of a life that she’s not sure she ever really truly lived.
Jax had parents.
The Hodge’s were nice enough people. Claudia adored them and they adored her too. They even went out of their way to make me feel welcome too. They were my grandparents as far as marriage went I guess. I always felt like I was cheating though. Or I didn’t belong. Jax was a great father but he was still just my stepdad. Sure the man practically raised me and he was technically the only father I knew but it was different. I didn’t even call him Dad for instance. We were more like really good buddies. He loved Mom and I loved him too but I always felt like I was missing something too. Seeing him with Claudia made me a tiny bit jealous. They were blood, they fit together.
I once asked Mom about Dad.
My real father.
She didn’t have a lot to say. I accepted a long time ago that I was an accident. Mom tried to sugar coat it by calling it a “happy accident” but it was one nonetheless. She didn’t get into specifics but it was clear she was drunk. It was probably the reason she didn’t really know who my father was. At the time she just recently broke up with her current boyfriend and came home to Starlight Cove for a breather. She said she went out with BFFs, got a little drunk and woke up the next morning on her bed. She couldn’t even remember what happened. I’m not even sure if I was the product of a one night or what. She found out she was pregnant with me a little while later and quit it all. Well not right away of course but eventually.
A decision she claimed not to regret but I think she was secretly lying about.
I’m not calling myself a mistake but I think I surprised her.
The world on the other hand blamed me for it.
I know Mom’s agent did.
“I’d give you my ticket if I could” I joked.
We laughed.
“My parents would kill me.”
“I can only imagine what mine are going to say when I tell them I don’t want to go on the cruise.”
We shared another laugh.
A second later, Tess’s phone beeped. She took a moment to take a look at it then groaned.
“You would think that that boy could live one second without me at his side.”
I could sense the tension in her voice.
Perhaps things were already starting to crack between the school’s power couple.
A moment after that the phone actually rang. Really annoyed, she answered.
“Yes, babe, I’m coming” Then a second later. “What, his locker is next to mine, you know that? We were just talking.”
I looked around, wondering what was going on.
Then I saw.
Brian.
He was coming down the hall toward us, his cell pressed to his head.
Brian Ross struck an imposing figure as he sauntered down the hall. Six foot three, maybe two ten or so. Solid muscle definitely. His sandy blonde hair always slicked back in its signature doo, wearing his letter-men jacket and the usual sneer. Like a Draco Malfoy on steroids. We had our history, none of it good. Like I mentioned before, the Ross’s thought they owned the town. Back when Jax first opened his Gym, he actually outbid Charles Ross for the space. Ross senior had not been happy at all with the deal. He wanted to turn that location into another high-end boutique, in a neighborhood of people who couldn’t afford any of the clothes in it. Suffice to say, the city council sided with my stepfather. From that moment on, the Ross’s had it out for us Hodges.
My beef with Brian started back in elementary school, back when we were in intramural baseball together. I’m not really one for sports but I did it because Jax wanted me to at least try. “Try it once and if you don’t like it, you can stop.” He never said, “quit”. Quit was not a word in my stepfather’s vocabulary. Regardless, Brian and I ended up on the same team. Back then most of us were on an even playing field with one another. Well, Brian wanted to be on First Base but Coach decided I was better suited for it. Brian through a fit and his father flew in. He threw some money around and suddenly I was in the outfield. Which was fine by me, I didn’t really care where I was. Brian didn’t let it go though. He started to rub it in. During practice, he deliberately started sending balls my way too. He hit it as hard as he could whenever he could.
One of the balls caught me in the chin. Now I’m usually a pretty even tempered person. I’d been taking abuse from him for weeks up to that point. I’d had enough. I lost it and attacked Brian. He wasn’t as big as he was now. He also never saw it coming. When Jax started teaching me how to defend myself when I was five, the first rule was never to be the aggressor. That day on the field, I tossed the first rule out the window. I clocked Brian across the face with a left hook before he saw it coming. I followed it up with a kick to the gut, dropping the prick like a ton of bricks. Brian’s Dad wanted to sue, claiming I broke his son’s nose. I didn’t but that’s just how they were. The incident made it as far as a Review board. Thankfully there was a camera on the field and it caught the whole thing. The case was overturned, no one was at fault.
My intramural baseball career ended there though.
I also happily took the two months grounding for it.
Brian held a grudge for the rest of our lives though.
Looking at the giant swaggering toward us, I knew there was no way I could take him with a cheap punch like I did all those years ago. Not that I would ever engage him in an actual fight. I learned my lesson that day. Jax was right, I shouldn’t have been the aggressor. It led to a lot of unnecessary things. It also made me a lifelong enemy in Brian Ross.
“Hey babe,” he said when he finally reached us, putting his arm around her shoulder.
He sneered at me.
Tess visibly flinched under his touch.
So there were problems.
“What are you looking at, freak?”
I sized him up. “Not much.”
“Play nice, Bri, Kenny’s my friend. We were just talking that’s all. No harm, no foul.”
Brian glared daggers at me but he let it slide.
His arm moved to around her waist though.
“Have a great summer, Kenny” she said, looking like she wanted to give me a hug.
We both knew better.
“Yeah, you too.”
With that Brian turned her and led her away.
Wow, what a tool.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note:Ch.2. I decided instead of posting on Sundays, I'll post on Mondays. There might be a week off or so coming up though. I fell a bit behind on the writing this week. I had a bit of insomnia -_-. I'm still very committed to this story though. Mac's tale is an interesting and fun one. Like I said before, its different too. How different you ask? Well you'll find out in this chapter. Another short chapter too, sorry about that. Originally this one and the first chapter were one big chapter but it didn't flow right. Ch.3 is a bit longer, I hope you enjoy :).
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2.
I barely managed to catch the bus going home.
“Cutting it close today, kid” said the driver as I slipped in just as the door was shutting.
"Got held up, Harry.”
Unlike most schools, because mine was in the city, there were no yellow school buses. Instead, most either walked or took a city bus. Our brownstone was ten blocks away. I suppose I could have walked it but Mom felt the city wasn’t safe enough for that. So she insisted I take a bus to and from school every day. It never used to be, that way. Growing up I went to St. Anthony’s, the private school that Mom worked at. The very same school my sister, Claudia, attended. Unfortunately, St. Anthony’s only went up to Middle school. Besides, when I was ready for high school, I insisted I be able to go to a public one. Not that I had any problems with private ones, it just felt wrong somehow. Too much Gossip Girl for me.
Well, that wasn’t the only reason.
The other didn’t appeal to me.
“So you going home or the Gym?”
"Home” I said, zipping my pass and finding a seat close to the front.
Harry the driver and I were old friends now. It was one of those strange friendships that grew out of location and convenience. He’d been driving this route for fifteen years without incident. The first day of my freshman year, some guys started hassling me for sitting in the wrong spot. Harry actually stopped the bus and threw them off, telling them he didn’t take too kindly to bullies. Then he asked me to sit up front from then on. Over fifty, he wasn’t exactly the kind of person a teenager might call a “friend” but I liked talking to him. Before being a bus driver, for instance, he used to work as a mechanic at the airport. Before that, he was in the military. He had a lot of stories. He reminded me a bit of Jax in that respect. My stepfather was in the military too for a short time. Jax and Harry both enlisted straight out of high school but unlike Jax, Harry stayed with it. Jax did his tour then retired into the private sector. Harry drove caravans for about a decade then left to spend more time with the family. After getting laid off from the airport, he took a job as a bus driver to put his kids through college. Now he was expecting his first grandchild and couldn’t be happier.
Like I said we talked a lot.
“So last day of being an underclassman, how does it feel?”
I shrugged. “The same as last year.”
He chuckled. “It might feel like that right now but wait until September comes, you’ll notice a difference. You’ll be a Senior then, the whole school will be your oyster.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He chuckled again. “Mark my words.”
Our conversation stopped there which seemed to suit us both fine. Not that I was tired of talking with him, I would never tire of that. I just wanted to take a look at Tess’s music before I forgot. Holding up my phone to indicate what I was doing, Harry smiled and nodded. Then I removed the drive from my pocket and fished through my backpack for my laptop. Most kids had one these days. Mine was a newer model, smaller than most. Just so I didn’t have to get one of those cumbersome carrier bags too. I plugged in the flash drive after booting up then went about uploading the music. I was surprised at how much was on there. At least thirty songs and of varying types and styles.
She really was a musicphile.
I was impressed.
I quickly transferred them to my smartphone before shutting down the laptop and putting it away. Plugging in my headphones, I queued up a Tara song and listened to it the rest of the way home.
Ok, so something real quick here.
I will always only refer to home as “the city”. It might be New York, it might be Boston. I’m never going to say. It's on the east coast and it's large. There’s brownstones, lots of traffic and many rude and disgusting people. That’s as far as I’m ever going to go to describe it though. I don’t want people trying to find out where I live and come dropping by. My mother had those problems, it didn’t end well. Hell I got kidnapped because of it. So I’m being purposefully vague so as not to fall into the same situation. Maybe one day I’ll say more but right now just be happy to know that I loved my city.
Harry dropped me off in front of the house.
“Here ya go, kiddo” he said with a happy smile.
“Thanks, Harry.”
I hopped off and quickly made my way up the front steps to the door.
I entered the security code, opened the door and stepped inside.
We owned the building.
I think at one time it might have been a multiple family homes but no longer. After Mom retired from modeling, she used her considerable wealth and bought the place. After my parents married, they bought the townhouse next to us as well. It took nearly a year to renovate and combine the two. It was actually pretty impressive when you thought about it. I mean how many kids can admit to having their own foyer complete with chandelier and winding staircase. Not that it was anything fancy but it was ours. It was also the only sign that my parents used to show their wealth. They were pretty modest people and lived their lives as such. They didn’t drive fancy cars or hire nannies to take care of us. The only other sign of wealth was the vacations and those only happened in the summer.
There were three stories, seven bedrooms, two and a half baths, a large dining area and kitchen.
Of course, only four of the bedrooms were actually bedrooms. One for each of us then the guest room. The rest of the bedrooms were converted into other things. One was an office, one was an entertainment room and the last one was a small workout area.
“I’m home” I shouted, not expecting a response.
It wasn’t quite three yet, which meant Mom and Claudia were still at school and Jax was still at the Gym. Smiling at having the house to myself, I quickly climbed the stairs to the second floor. My parents had the house laid out with visitors in mind. The first floor was for entertaining purposes, i.e. for when we had friends over. Its where the entertainment and workout room was. There was a guest bathroom down there as well. The second floor was for our “living”. The office was there along with my parents’ bathroom, the kitchen, dining area, and the living room. Most of our TV watching though was either done in the bedrooms or the, entertainment room downstairs. Speaking of bedrooms, they were on the third floor, along with the bathroom that Claudia and I shared.
Wandering into the kitchen, I quickly set about making myself a sandwich.
I was almost done with it when I heard the front door open.
“Kenzie!”
“In the kitchen!” I shouted.
The great and weird thing about being named MacKenzie were all the names people could get away with calling you. In school, I was only “Ken”. At home, my mother always called me Kenzie and Jax usually called me “Mac”. Claudia called me Mackie usually. Out of all of them, I preferred Mac the most. It was a name that seemed to sum me pretty well.
“I want one of those” said a voice behind me.
I turned and found Claudia trudging into the kitchen, dragging her backpack behind her.
It was hard to believe that she and I were siblings. No, it wasn’t because her father was African American either. Claudia was a bit of a girly girl. Her favorite color was pink, she wore dresses and skirts constantly and had been taking ballet lessons for the last four years. She was graceful and sweet and short. That last part she could do nothing about, not right anyway. She was nine after all. Though from what I understood, she was the tallest in her class. She probably would be too. Given the combined genes of both Jax and Mom, Claudia might even be taller than me when she was grown up. She was definitely going to be looker. I didn’t envy Jax when she started noticing boys.
Turning around, I placed her PB&J on the kitchen island.
“That’s why I made you one.”
I only just managed to cut it in half before Claudia started to eat.
I rolled my eyes.
She might have been a girly girl but she had an appetite like a truck driver.
“Why am I not surprised you’re eating,” said my mother as she walked into the kitchen.
“Its good”.
“Honey, don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Mom and I laughed.
I couldn’t help but smile at the both of them. The two most important women in my life. Sweet, frilly Claudia with her pink backpack and her mouth full of s, sandwich, and my mother looking as beautiful as ever. Looking at Mom, you would never be able to tell she was nearly forty. She took good care of herself. She and Jax worked out for two hours every morning, which also included a jog around the block. She ate healthily and still had that eternal youthful glow. Save for a few lines and maybe a couple of stray grays, she still looked as beautiful as ever. One could clearly see how she’d been a supermodel.
When we were together, no one could ever not mistake me for her kid.
We shared the same pale skin, same light blonde hair. We were even the same height. The only thing different about me was my eyes. Whereas hers were blue, mine were green. We even looked very similar, features wise. Which is blood in the water when it comes to high school. Being a boy with feminine looks was not easy. Hell, being a boy, in general, was never easy. As far as I knew, I looked everything like Mom and nothing like my Non-existent father. Well, maybe the eyes. That was only a guess though. I knew nothing about him and it bothered me. I was almost eighteen after all.
“Is your father home yet?”
“You’re kidding right?”
She sighed. “I swear to God that man would sleep in that Gym if he could.”
He has actually.
Not on purpose though.
Whereas Mom made decent money being a teacher and still had quite a bit of a nest egg from her modeling days, the Gym was our real bread and butter. Jax was Mom’s bodyguard for about five years or so before he quit. He said his heart had never really been in it. He technically stopped being her bodyguard about a year after he was hired. He stuck around because he’d fallen in love with her. He also ended up in our lives. He quickly became the father I never had and cared for my mother in a way that no man ever had. He was warm and kind and protective. It was no wonder they fell in love. The Gym was a dream of Jax’s. His uncle used to own a Gym when he was growing up. Its where he learned to box. He didn’t get into the Mixed Martial Arts stuff until the military. Well just after actually.
When he beat out Ross, he wanted to give something back to the community. He knew how important his uncle’s place was to the youth in his neighborhood growing up. He wanted to do the same. He wanted to make sure kids had an outlet outside of the drugs and violence. They also needed a place to blow off steam and settle differences. It started out with just boxing. The martial arts stuff didn’t come in until much later. I was about seven when I started to pick it up. First the boxing then later Aikido and more recently a bit of Krav Maga. Jax learned the latter in the SEALS but refused to teach me until I was a bit older.
So I was no slouch in a fight.
I just wasn’t getting in line to have one.
“You want me to go and get him?”
“You don’t mind?”
I shrugged.
To be honest, I was itching to leave already. Don’t get me wrong I loved both of them to death. My mother was awesome and my sister was the most precious thing in the world to me. I just didn’t like to be around them when they were together. Mom always wanted to have that little girl to pamper and do all the Mother-Daughter things with that she could never do with me. I think she’d all but given up hope after she had me. I was nearly nine when they had Claudia. Mom finally got her little princess. Not that I was upset or jealous. In fact, what nine-year-old boy wants to spend time with his mother. I had baseball and my fighting lessons with Jax. By the time Claudia started walking and talking, I was ready to be the Man of the House or at least one in training.
Ironic.
“You two do your whatever thing...I don’t mind.”
Mom frowned. “You know...”
I cut her off. “I’m good Mom.”
I left the room after that. I wasn’t in the mood for what she was about to say. I’d heard it before. I thought about making a beeline for the third floor and my bedroom but gave it a second thought. If I went there, I’d probably end up on the computer, stuck in one of my senseless games. I had the whole summer for that. Instead, I turned and went back down. On the main floor, I quickly made a mad dash for the outside. I heard my mother call me but I was already out the door and couldn’t hear anyway. Just as well, I’m sure she was going to try scolding me again. Ok so not scold me but try to have another conversation that I was unwilling to have. The same conversation that she’d been trying to have with me for well over a year now.
The elephant in the room as they call it.
I shook off the thought as I made my way down the street. I pulled out my phone, making sure the headphones were plugged in before I started some music. The soulful sounds of Tara filled my ears, drowning out my worries. I smiled as I walked. Of course, the first song on Tess’ list would have to be Tara. Tara was her favorite after all. I know I dumped on the girl before but what’s not to like about her. She had a great voice and she was one of those wholesome Country blondes. She was young too, around my age. She reminded me a bit of my Mom in that respect. Discovered young, spent most of her life in the spotlight. I couldn’t help but wonder if Tara had someplace to go when she couldn’t take it anymore?
Mine, that one was easy.
The Gym.
I’d been in and out of gyms since five years old. At first, it was just to follow Jax, to be more like him. Then he started me on a training regiment. It was slow at first but built in intensity as I got older and stronger. I was ten when he finally purchased his own place. The neighborhood where we lived was actually very similar to the one that Jax grew up in. Though not considered the best place to live, it had a great sense of community. Part of that was Mal’s Gym. Mal’s---according to Jax---was a stable for many years. Mal sadly passed away right before Jax graduated high school. The Gym fell into limbo. With no Will and no family, the gym ended up with the bank. They tried to get someone to purchase it but no one was interested in a place in that part of town. Until of course Charles Ross. Ross didn’t have the community’s best interest at heart. That’s why Jax stepped in. Looking for a new start and an outlet, he made an offer. The city had a dozen or so high-end clothing stores, what they didn’t have was a place for the young people to go and unwind.
It was an easy sell.
Our townhouse was only a few blocks away.
I used to feel a little out of place around here. When we moved here, I was the only white kid on the block. Most people didn’t know how to react. It didn’t help that I was the son of a rich, white supermodel. The money meant very little to my mother though. When she bought our building, converting the property into a home, she never tried to make it look as if she was above everyone else. When Mr. Crawford down the street needed a loan to keep his store open, she gave him one. When Mrs. Cowell needed help getting her daughter braces, Mom worked out a payment deal with her. Mom was a member of the PTA, the Neighborhood Watch, went to all the city council meetings, donated what free time she had at the soup kitchen and donated to a few choice charities.
She said it was to help make amends.
She apparently lived a “wild” life back in the day.
I stopped at the Newsstand on the corner. I always felt bad for Mr. Johnson. Very people ever stopped at his stand anymore. Most people got their news from the internet these days. Magazines and newspaper were a dying breed. I always liked to do my part. I made a habit out of stopping by here every morning before school to grab a paper and a candy bar. My parents usually did too. My sister got all her pre-teen magazines from him too. The only thing we didn’t get here was the Starlight Gazette, the local Starlight Cove paper. Mom subscribed to it to see what was new in her hometown.
“Evening, Mr. J,” I said, smiling at the older man.
I grabbed a couple of Snickers.
“Mac,” he said, taking the time to shake my hand as always. “Going to see your Dad?”
“Yes sir,” I said, paying for the candy bars.
“Oh tell your sister that I have the latest issue for her.”
I smiled. “Will do.”
I said my goodbyes and walked around the corner.
Mal’s was at the end of this current street. Once the city had been smaller and this area was little shops and the like. Though there was still a few of them around, most were gone and buildings left empty. When Mal’s closed, people thought it was the end of an era. Jax buying it and reopening it brought a sense of pride back to the downtrodden. Ok so that’s a little hammy. The point I’m trying to make is that the street and the blocks surrounding it went through a little renaissance in the last decade or so. People were starting to buy up the old abandoned places and making something of them again. Who knows what this area might look like in another ten or even twenty years?
When I approached the Gym, one of Jax’s regulars was outside sweeping the walk.
“Hey Donnie,” I said as I approached.
Donnie Clarke graduated last year. He was a basketball player but not good enough for a scholarship. Sadly his family couldn’t afford college so, like most of the kids around here, he worked a few small jobs to make ends meet. Donnie worked here and at one of the mechanic shop a few blocks away. Jax did what he could and wanted to do more but some people---like Donnie---refused the help. A small part of me respected that. The rest of me thought it was plain stupid. I had no problem asking for help if I needed it. Pride was a nasty thing to have when you couldn’t afford anything else.
“Hey Mac,” he said, smiling down at me.
Donnie was tall, nearly six five. Being around him made me feel real short.
“He still in there?”
“What do you think?”
We shared a laugh. I passed over one of my candy bars before he could refuse. He took it sheepishly, opened his mouth to say something but I slipped inside before he could.
The bell above the door announced my arrival.
Not that anyone noticed.
It was pretty quiet today.
The place had its lull in customers. Most of the high schoolers usually didn’t start to trickle in on the weekdays until after dinner or before school. The middle schoolers favored comic book shops and the skate park. The elementary school kids had lessons on the weekend. I taught a few of those when I could. It was an easy way to put some quick cash in my pocket. I liked little kids too. I was also the only one who would do it. Jax had four employees, including Donnie. Most were older and ex-military. Most were there for reasons of their own and most didn’t like to bother. They were good guys but they didn’t like to be “babysitters”.
None of them were here today it seemed.
I took a moment to take in the place.
The smell of leather and sweat assaulted my nose immediately. “Blood, sweat and tears”, Jax always joked about it. I couldn’t help but smile at it. I smiled at the place too. There was a large boxing ring in the center, practice areas surrounding it. In the far left corner was the weight area, the far right was the bathrooms and locker rooms. There was even a fighter’s cage for the MMA types. Toward the back was the office, though it was mainly used for storage now. There was also a pro shop but we didn’t get a lot of sales from the local crowd. At least not during the week. On Sunday evenings though, some of the higher class clientele liked to pretend they were “fit and cool”. You could convince them to buy anything and they’d pay whatever price for it. I’m not saying we conned them but hey we had to make a living somehow.
The only sound in the room I noticed was the heavy rhythm of fists.
Well more specifically, fists on leather.
I smiled.
Jax was unwinding.
Walking into the room, I made my way slowly over to one of the practice areas. Sure enough, there was my giant of a stepfather pounding away on a poor defenseless bag. I smirked at the analogy. I felt bad for the bag too. Jax was a giant of a man. Tall and thick with muscle, a menacing figure if one were to look at him. He was a gentle and kind man though. A man who’d been in my life for as long as I could remember. It was one of those strange and yet familiar modern day circumstances. It still unsettled some but I ignored all that crap. As far as I was concerned, this man was my father, the only one I’d ever had. He was there when I needed him, let me cry on his shoulder when I was sad, let me punch it out when I was angry. He never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want but always told me to do my best at the things I did.
The kind of man a father should be.
I came up behind the bag, waiting for the opportunity to grab it.
Spotting him, I held the bag in place.
It also let him know he wasn’t alone.
“Thanks, hun.”
Hun?
“Ummm….Jax….”
He stopped punching.
He peeked around the bag, a look of pure embarrassment on his face.
“Oh shit, Mac, sorry kiddo. For a second there I thought you were your mother.”
It wasn’t the first time.
It wouldn’t be the last either.
Mom and I had similar builds after all. We were the same height, had the same relative shape. We had the same colored skin, the same white blonde hair. We even carried ourselves the same. It was easy to mistake me for her if not paying too much attention. Like I said, it happened before. More than once. I used to get annoyed about it. I used to get angry in fact. Bitter and full of vinegar, snapping at anyone who mistook the two of us. After a while, though I just learned to accept it. I even saw it as a compliment sometimes. Strange I know but there it was. It was still offsetting too.
I mean what teenage boy wants to mistaken for his mother.
Then again who said I was a boy.
Yep All Girl Here.
“You done here?” I asked, letting my deeper, more masculine sounding voice slide away.
“Almost sweetie,” he said, wiping his sweaty brow. “Give me a few and then I’ll the hit the showers.”
I wrinkled my nose from the stench. “You need it.”
Jax rolled his eyes.
I left him to his workout.
Wandering over to the bench, I stripped off my hoodie and my shirts. Sighing in relief, I finally let my “girls” out to breath. Spending seven hours or so a day with them crammed up like that, buried under shirts and a hoodie, it was horrible. They weren’t very big and when they first appeared, I’d been downright horrified. I had no idea what was going on. I tried hiding them for a while but finally, the truth came out. Mom never even batted an eye. She called Jax and they both sat me down. How do you tell your eleven-year-old that the life he always thought was true was a lie?
Ambiguous genitalia.
Thinking about it now, I smirked.
Looking down at my double As in their sports bra, I sighed. I grabbed some boxing tape off the bench, wrapped my hands slowly. Most people in my school were clueless. They saw what they wanted to see and that was enough for them. There were still the assholes though, like Brian and Mark. What they thought was a sissy fag boy was actually just a girl trying to hide. After my parents told me the truth, how I’d never really been a boy, I was angry. I lashed out, tried to deny it. I ended up in counseling for a while. Even then I tried my hardest to be the boy I always thought I was. It didn’t work.
We made arrangements though.
In school I was to remain as I always was. That was my decision. Back in the “dark ages”, they never gave children a choice. Usually, conditions like mine were corrected at birth, without the child ever knowing. It was discovered that doing things like that could be damaging to a child’s psyche. So it was decided in this modern age, to let the child decide. The thing was, I really wasn’t ready. My parents and the doctors respected my decision. There was a compromise though. I could continue to live like I’d always been but at the age of eighteen, I needed to make a choice one way or the other.
Grunting, I started pounding furiously on the speed bag. All the pent-up frustration of the day pouring out of me in one burst. Ok, several fast, rapid bursts.
So here I was in my masquerade. The perfect actor.
A boy pretending to be a girl pretending to be a boy?
Confusing.
Maybe.
I just still wasn’t sure yet though.
Boy?
Girl?
Both?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note:And here's Ch.3. This chapter will explain a bit more about what's really going on with Mac and what her true gender really is. Those of you looking for some kind of confrontation with Brian will not be disappointed with this chapter either. This story is progressing slowly and I'm sorry for that. I didn't plan for it to be as drawn out as it is. I'm hoping to speed things along soon.
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3.
“I wish you’d grow your hair out more?”
I sighed.
We were in my bedroom, sitting in front of my mirror. Mom was trying once again to brush my hair. She was trying to hide the frown. We’d been here before. Many times. The mirror and the vanity were recent additions, taking the place of a small study desk I used to have. I never used the desk anyway. I did most of my homework at the kitchen table. The vanity was also a compromise. If she bought the vanity, she’d also buy me a new computer. It was a win for me and her. Not that I ever used the vanity though. It sat there gathering dust, just like all the makeup she’d bought me.
“I like it short,” I said, trying to dodge the brush.
“It would just be so much prettier.”
“Mom, stop!”
I’ve had this conversation with her a hundred times before. I also had a perfectly good reason to deny her wish. I like my hair shorter, it was easier to manage. Long hair seemed to be a real pain in the ass. I’d worn a wig or two, besides being incredibly itchy, it was also just too much. Not just because of the length either. I won’t lie. Being a girl scared the hell out of me. I knew I was one, apparently my whole life. But when you’re raised a boy for eleven of your nearly eighteen years, it's not something to get used too.
There was another reason I had short hair.
Punishment.
Call me a spiteful, horrible child but after I found out about my condition, I was angry. Rightly so. Even more so when I found out that Mom knew all about it. I accused her of some nasty things afterward including her hiding it from me for her own selfish means. It was stupid at the time but I really believed it. After all, she used to tell me how much she wanted a little girl and secretly she had one all along. She apparently had a plan in place for the whole thing. When I was old enough, she and Jax were going to reveal the truth to me. She just never thought puberty would beat her too it. So when I started to grow my little booblets, it became clear that there was no way to hide it from me anymore.
So making sure my hair was short started as an act of rebellion.
It was strange really. I never was a horrible child. Though finding out your parents were liars, it hurt. A lot. So I became bound and determined to prove to them I wasn’t a girl like they thought. Contrary to what medical science told them and me. I was a boy. I was going to remain a boy. That was then though. This was now. Things didn’t turn out how I wanted. The medical professionals laid it all out for me. I didn’t have a penis, I never had a penis. I didn’t have testes. I had the full reproductive system of any other woman. I just had a rare birth defect that gave me a larger than normal clitoris. One that for a long time resembled a young boy’s penis. They were willing to do the surgery right then and there. I fought it.
That’s where the counseling came in.
My shrink---Dr. Martin---agreed with me. Though she agreed that at some point in my life I would have some important decisions to make, she convinced my parents that it should be my decision. I was a perfectly healthy young woman after all. I menstruated normally. My body was developing the way it should, albeit a bit slower than normal. I was healthy mentally too. Just a little angry. Also, a child who was raised as one gender all “his” life. I refused to use female pronouns for a long time. I was a boy after all.
Dr. Martin helped with all that.
She also helped with something else.
We made a deal with my parents. I was to remain as my boy self all throughout my schooling. I didn’t want the kids to think I was some kind of freak. Well, more than they already did. I could handle the bullying, what little there was. I just didn’t want to be fully ostracized. You could tell people one thing but most people were simple and single-minded. If they saw a boy, they thought boy. It didn’t matter to them if you had a rare medical condition or not. We worked it out with the school board and the principal. I was exempt from gym class and the locker rooms. I was also tasked with using the school’s unisex bathroom. All things that seemed fairly ok to me. Though my teachers weren’t informed of my true gender, they were told I had a medical condition that allowed me these privileges.
No one questioned it.
Life was good.
School was good.
Like I said though, it was a compromise. One that was slowly coming to an end. I was going to be a senior next year. I was also going to be eighteen in three months. This time next year, I promised everyone I would make my ultimate decision. I knew I couldn’t live as a boy my whole life while still being a girl physically. There were options.
“I’m sorry honey,” Mom said, putting the brush down.
Interrupting my thoughts.
I sighed, grabbed her hand as she started to stand up.
“I know this is hard, Mom, not just for me either” I was sincere. “I’m just not ready for that stuff.”
She touched my cheek. “You promise to tell me when you are?”
I smiled and nodded.
“That’s my girl,” she said, giving me a hug. “My pretty girl.”
I groaned, she laughed.
“Now go, I need to get ready for my lessons.”
Mom tried again.
“Just a tiny bit of lip gloss.”
“Out!”
She laughed as she quickly left the room.
I couldn’t help but laugh a bit too. She meant well. She was trying to help me see what she thought I was clearly missing. I could see it all very clear though. Standing up, I quickly stripped down to my sports bra and boy short panties. Taking a step back, I saw it all. Tall and thin, the girl staring at me in the mirror had boyish proportions. A narrow waist, barely little hip, and small breasts. Just like my mother. Also like my mother was the lean muscle tone. Washboard abs and a tiny six-pack, products of a strict morning workout and exercise regiment. I think the word I was looking for was “athletically toned”. Not overly grotesque like female bodybuilders but not weak and dainty looking either.
It was the kind of body that some girls might dream for.
It was the kind that I worked hard to maintain.
Staring at myself for a few more minutes, I finally put on some clothes. I donned my usual workout outfit, consisting of a fresh sports bra, stretchy workout pants and a skin tight workout tank. A couple of years ago it would have bothered the hell out of me. All this tight and form-fitting gear. Now I just shrugged it off. I stopped trying to deny that part of my life. They were just clothes after all. I had no problem with that. Sure I’d never be caught dead in a dress or skirt but wearing tight things didn’t bother me anymore. I couldn’t deny that I was a girl. I just wasn’t ready to embrace it though. The boy in me was just too strong to succumb to the subtle and deadly pull of all things feminine.
There were already cracks in my armor though.
The other day I caught myself absently watching a chick flick with my mother. Then tearing up at the end when the girl found her Mr. Right. Then a month ago, Claudia was playing around with some nail polish. Mom let her wear it but only on the weekends. She was sitting at the kitchen table, doing her nails like usual. I was reading something for school and didn’t even blink when she started painting my nails. When I finally discovered what she did, I didn't freak like I usually did either. I smirked and caught myself admiring them for a second. It scared me. Not as bad as what happened the other day though.
Admiration.
I caught myself staring.
Not at a girl either.
I was taking my usual jog around the city. I did it every morning when I could. I was running through the park when I noticed a couple of the guys from school playing a basketball game. I never really bothered to stop and take a look before but it was a Shirts vs. Skins game. Tommy Fucking Duncan. They were in process of picking teams when I went by and Tommy stripped off his shirt, exposing a rather toned and muscled torso. I nearly tripped over staring. They were amazing. He was amazing. I’d always been so careful about staring but I just couldn’t help it. I was mesmerized. Thankfully that spell was broken when the guys noticed and started cat calling me. I was wearing my tight pants after all. I was just lucky I was wearing a hoodie and my face was concealed. As it was I nearly died of embarrassment.
I couldn’t stop blushing just thinking about it.
Biting my lip, I put on the rest of my clothes.
I usually covered my workout stuff with sweats. Today it was a sweatpants, t-shirt, and the usual hoodie combo. Androgynous and boy-like. Just like usual. My masquerade. It hid my workout gear quite nicely too. I didn’t want to run into anyone I knew while wearing something like that. Most people thought I was a boy after all. I could only imagine how someone might react if they found out the truth about me. As it was, there were already too many people who knew. Like the school officials and the people who worked at the Gym. I hated that Donnie knew. I mean it was hard for him not too after all. I taught my lessons wearing my gear, I couldn’t exactly hide it.
He was surprisingly cool about it.
He also swore to keep my secret.
I think part of that was fear. He was at the gym every day, he saw what I could do.
I quickly finished getting ready. I usually carried a workout bag with me. A spare set of clothes, a towel, a bottle of water and some energy bars. My usual kit. On Mom’s insistence, I also kept a brush in there. Not that I ever used it though. Ok, I did because I’m not a slob but I didn’t try to go out of my way to make myself pretty. If you ask Mom, I was pretty anyway. Yeah right.
I found Mom in the kitchen after I left my room.
“You’re wearing that?”
I rolled my eyes. “My stuff is on under this.”
I don’t think Mom and I were ever going to see eye to eye on things. She respected my decision but I don’t think she ever really liked it. Not that she would ever try to force me to do something I hated but I knew what she wanted. She wanted her daughter. I wasn’t denying her that. I was her daughter after all. I just wasn’t quite ready to let everyone else know that. And it's not like I didn’t try. A part of the arrangement I made with my parents is that while in school I could be whoever I wanted to be. Over the summer though---on vacation---I had to at least try to be myself. No amount of explaining to them that “I was me” seemed to sway them. So I wore the clothes Mom picked out for me. I did the things with her that she wanted me to do. I was her daughter. I’m not going to say I liked it but I wasn’t overly miserable about it either.
Well, at least not at first.
I remember the first girly bathing suit.
Shudder.
“Tell me you’re not going to spend all day in the gym, you have some more packing to do after all.”
I nodded.
“I’ll be home as soon as my lessons are done.”
Packing though.
Yuck.
And I still hadn’t told her my plans.
How I didn’t want to go on vacation with them this year. A couple of days ago, it had just been a stray thought. Now after a few days of thinking about it, I was determined. I needed to take my own vacation. Now I just needed to convince my parents. I knew Jax was an easy sell. He was a softy. All I had to do was bat my eyes, put on the innocent sweet girl act and he was putty in my hands. There were some advantages to being a girl. It didn’t take me long to figure that out. Claudia quickly learned them too. We could both easily manipulate Jax. Mom was a different story. I already knew how she was going to act to my decision. She was always very overprotective of me. She had a reason to be. I was kidnapped once after all. That was a long long time ago though and I knew how to defend myself now. I wasn’t a pushover.
I also wasn’t a little girl anymore either.
And I wasn’t her.
I knew she’d try to use that against me. I was ready for it. Mom was my age when she started modeling. She was also my age when she started to let her life get out of control. The pull of it all was too much for her. But she didn’t really have a solid foundation to fall back on like I do. Her parents all but abandoned her when she went on that reality show. She let herself fall into that rampant lifestyle. Mom and Jax were different. I was different too. It's how that worked. Parents make the mistakes so that they’re children don’t. Mom raised me better. She knew the risks and told me about them every day. So I was a better person.
I planned on using that against her.
Not in a cruel way but in a way that showcased that I wasn’t going to be stupid like she was.
My hope is that it might sway her to my side of things.
Fingers crossed.
I opened my mouth to say it. To tell her my plans. To rebel against family vacation.
And I’m a chicken.
Nothing.
Shit.
Instead, I gave her my usual hug and the “See ya later” line before heading out the door.
A yellow bellied coward.
Damn.
“Thank you, Miss Kenzie!”
All of my students thanked me at once, bowing their heads as they did so. Just like they’d been taught to do. I smiled at each of them, thanking each in turn. Its what we did at the end of every lesson. Then they stood at attention, waiting to be dismissed. I didn’t make them wait long. They quickly dispersed, running off to the locker rooms to change. I watched them go before grabbing my towel off the bench and wiping my sweat-drenched brow. I couldn’t help but smile. Children at that age were precious. They pulled at my heartstrings. They also melted my false manly armor. I could pretend to be a guy as long as I wanted but when it came to kids, I was all girl. I blame Claudia. I put up with my tough boy act up until the first time she called me her sister. As soon as she did, I was done. I crumbled under the pressure. I’m still convinced Mom put her up to it but it didn’t matter.
She was right.
We were sisters.
Up to that point, I’d just been too much of an idiot to accept it.
There was something else about kids that I didn’t want to admit. Something biological. I was a fully functioning woman after all. I had a period once a month and was able to have children if I wanted. Nothing like that really seemed all that important to me until I started teaching these classes about a year ago. Up until that point, I struggled with who I was and what I wanted. I still struggle with it. Kids were a weakness though. Deep down inside I knew I wanted one, even if it meant giving birth to him or her. I knew what all of that meant too. I just wasn’t ready for that kind of thing. I don’t think I ever would be. I know what my body wanted but my mind, it was still pretty much set in guy mode. Kids were cute and great but they were something else too. Something final.
When all my kids were away, I wandered over to the office to get dressed.
I didn’t want to undress in front of any of my students.
Didn’t want to confuse them.
Though I kept most of myself pretty well hidden, there was always that chance.
What I once would have called “Little Macky” was pretty small though. It was strange to look at now because clearly, it looked nothing at all like a penis. To a young kid though, I had no idea. It was the only penis I’d ever seen and it looked pretty normal to me. My parents didn’t let me watch movies where there was nudity and of course I didn’t look at naked pics on the Internet. So as far as I was concerned, it was what every other boy had. It wasn’t until later that I found out I was wrong. For one thing, it was very small. If it had been a true penis, it would have been one that a six or seven-year-old possessed. It was more like an elongated clitoris, penis-shaped but definitely not one. It should have caused me more concern but it wasn’t until I started to grow breasts did I begin to question everything.
I remember being scared out of my mind.
Thinking about it now didn’t bring back any good memories.
I forced those thoughts from my mind as I stripped out of my sweat-soaked workout clothes. I changed into a fresh bra and panty set then put on my sweats and t-shirt again. Sticking my sweaty clothes in my gym bag, I wandered back out of the office. Most of my kids were already leaving. One boy was idling standing by with his mother, looking pretty awkward. I smiled at the pair, they waved before leaving. I think his name was Jared, he was one of my newer ones. Like most, he was eager to learn. I was eager to teach too. While not exactly martial arts, I taught my students a blend of techniques to help defend themselves in case someone tried to harm them. I’m not talking about playground scuffles either. I’m talking more along the lines of “Stranger Danger” scenarios. I wanted to make sure that if anyone ever tried to make off with one of my “kids”, they’d get a serious hurting for doing so.
Elementary school children weren’t my only students. I taught a Middle School level class as well. Usually on Sunday nights. I also taught Self Defense to Women for a period of a couple of weeks in the Fall. Most of my students in that class were middle-aged housewives. They wanted to be able to defend themselves in case of a mugging or worse, rape. I was more than happy to oblige. I taught those women how to really defend themselves. I wanted them to kick the shit out of their attacker. I felt like I owed it to women everywhere to make them total badasses.
“You done for the day?” asked Donnie, who was currently emptying the trash cans.
I nodded. “Yep, the rest of the weekend is mine to be lazy.”
I didn’t have any classes tomorrow.
In fact, I was done with classes for two months.
Usually, during our vacation time, someone else took over classes. Jax usually left one of his old SEAL buddies, Mick, in charge of things. Who he assigned to take over, I didn’t know. I just knew when I got back from my time off, my students were still primed and ready to go. Even the middle schoolers. Whoever took over did a damn good job of whipping my little disciples into shape.
"You look better when you’re not pretending to be something you’re not.”
His compliment caught me off guard.
I blushed. “Thanks.”
I left before things got any more awkward.
I almost started to head home when I remembered I used all the bread up the other day. I tried to eat a sandwich every afternoon. It was part of my balanced diet. I went through a lot of bread. I usually went out of my way to replace it too. Checking my watch, it was just going on noon. Claudia didn’t get out of her ballet lesson until one so I had plenty of time to get home before the carpool dropped her off. Mom of course never had work on the weekends. Today though, she was spending the afternoon with an old college friend. Mom and Patty got together at least once or twice a month. With Jax busy with pro shop inventory today, it was my job to babysit Claudia for the afternoon.
I had plenty of time to make it to Gruber’s Market a few blocks away.
Gruber’s wasn’t one of those little corner grocery stores. It was a free-standing building with its own parking lot and everything. I think it was probably the last one like that in the city. Most were connected to other places, like everything else around here. Because it was its own place, it had a larger inventory of things. Most people didn’t bother with it though so it wasn’t as popular as some of the corner store places. The city was all about getting in and out of places fast. I liked the slower pace of shopping without knowing what I wanted.
Walking into the store, I smiled at old man Gruber before getting what I came for. I took a moment to look for anything else as well. Browsing the aisles, I managed to score myself a large package of AirHeads too.
My candy of choice.
The store was pretty quiet today. There was no one in line when I went to pay for my purchases.
“Have a good day, Miss!” said Randy, the cashier.
Shit, my hood was down.
I smiled, thanked him and left.
As soon as I stepped outside, I pulled my hood back up. Randy had been my age but thankfully not from my school. It was just as well, he blushed when he rang me out. I didn’t want to have that complication come Fall. People had been blushing at me a lot lately. Not just Randy. It was strange that it was only guys though? It was almost as if they thought I was pretty or something? I knew that couldn’t be though, I didn’t wear any makeup and I definitely didn’t go out of the way to make myself desirable to anyone. Yet all the blushing was starting to disturb me. It made me question my disguise too. Maybe I would have to kick things up another notch or two just to be on the safe side?
Trying not to think about it, I started down the sidewalk toward the house.
I checked my watch, there was plenty of time left.
Or there might have been.
“Brian, I said No.”
That voice.
Tess.
Looking around, I spotted them. They were in the parking lot behind Gruber’s. Brian had Tess pressed up against the wall, trying and failing to kiss her. She didn’t look too happy. Shit. A small part of me wanted to just leave, forget I saw anything and go about my day. After all, it wasn’t any of my business. I said a small part because the rest of me was screaming, “GO HELP THAT GIRL”. Double Shit. I cursed my conscience and quickly stuffed my purchases into my gym bag. No reason to damage them if I didn’t have too. Then taking a deep breath, I stepped into the parking lot.
“C’mon babe, you’re just overreacting a bit.”
“I’m not overreacting anything. I said we’re through and I meant it.”
She tried to get away but he had her firmly pressed against the wall, both his arms on either side of her. The kind of gesture that told me she definitely didn’t want to be there. It also told me that Brian didn’t want her getting away. It was just the right bit of information I needed to finally say what I was thinking:
“What’s going on here?”
Tess looked at me.
I saw the relief on her face.
“Kenny!”
Brian growled, turning his head.
“Fuck off, Hodge, this doesn’t concern you!”
` I could of and should have taken his advice.
I knew what happened when you disagreed with a Ross.
Then again, I just couldn’t leave Tess.
“I think Tess disagrees.”
I dropped my bag on the ground, slowly moving it behind me with a foot.
I had no intention of engaging Brian in a fight. He was bigger and stronger than I was. Sure I probably could take him but it would be long and drawn out. He had a size and reach advantage too. A couple of direct hits from him would probably hurt pretty bad. I would worry about that if it came though. My first order of business here was to get him away from her. Now there were a few ways to do it. The most direct approach would be just to insult him. That would only make him angry though and an angry Brian in this situation spelled disaster.
No, I had to outsmart him.
I pulled out my cell, holding it up.
“I already called the cops,” I said then pointed the phone at him, clicking a pic. “And I have some pretty damning evidence of you trying to force yourself on her.”
He was after all still pinning her to the wall.
Brian smirked. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“No, I’m not” she snapped, “we broke up two days ago.”
“The lady seems to disagree.”
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” said Brian, licking his lips.
Brian lowered one of his arms. Tess took the opportunity. I had to give her credit, she was faster than I thought. She quickly bolted, running right toward me. Brian didn’t have time to react before she was safe and sound behind me. Now I held all the cards. Hopefully, it was enough. Then Tess touched me. It wasn’t a tender or affectionate touch. It was a simple hand on my side, a safe and secure gesture on her part.
“It's him isn’t it,” said Brian, his eyes narrowing. “You left me for the fucking freak!”
Shit.
There it was.
The situation I didn’t want.
Brian’s nostrils flared and he came at me. I was right, he was fast. His fist went right for my head, stupid rookie mistake. Punching someone in the head was hard to do because it was a small target and the swing---if someone was prepared---was easy to dodge. Which is what I did. It only seemed to anger him more. He took another swing, once again aiming for my head. It probably would have connected if I wasn’t a skilled fighter. Aikido was all about using your opponent’s strengths against him. A charging fool was easy to dodge and easier to manipulate into tiring himself out. It helped that Brian was a big and strong guy too. He spent more energy in his lunges and swings.
Trying and failing to hit me time and again.
I dodged and weaved around him, turning him to face where I wanted.
Making him move where I wasn’t.
What I didn’t anticipate was him backing me into the wall.
Shit.
He took another punch, aiming straight on for my face.
Double shit.
I had no choice.
I snapped my head to the side quickly, turning my body so that I literally pulled his body into the full force of the punch. All of which happened in seconds. There was a loud crack as his fist connected with the wall. A split second later, another sound followed---Brian screaming. He’d clearly put a lot into that one because his hand and maybe even his wrist were definitely broken.
“You son of a bitch!”
He swung wildly around, swinging his other hand toward me.
It wasn’t a punch at all. Just a mad gesture in hopes of tagging me.
He failed.
He staggered, spitting.
“Brian back off,” I said calmly, stepping away. “Your hand is broken. It's over. Let me call an ambulance.”
"Fuck off!”
“Brian, maybe you should listen to him.”
Tess was somewhere behind me, actual concern in her voice.
“BITCH!”
Brian turned like a raging bull, all fury and nothing else. He made a dash for her. He didn’t get very far. He stumbled over his own feet, staggering forward like a drunken fool. I didn’t even have to help this one. He was on his knees a moment later. Panting and gasping. I tried reaching for him, hoping to help him up. He smacked my arm away. He tried to get up himself but he staggered again then collapsed.
He stopped moving a second later.
“Is...he...he...dead?”
I sighed. “He just broke his hand. Flailing around like that afterward wasn’t very smart. The shock finally kicked in. He’s fine, he’s just not going to be getting up for a while.”
A moment or so later, Randy came running out of the grocery store.
Just great.
Looking around, I noticed a CC camera on the wall, just above the back door.
“The cameras caught it all. The police are already on their way” he said, panting and staring in awe, first at Brian then at me. “You’re...that was amazing!”
Great, just great.
I shrugged. “I told him to stop.”
Randy nodded. “I saw. The police will too. I’ll tell them everything.”
Tess put her hand on my arm. “I’ll do the same. Brian is an ass. There’s no way his Dad is going to get him out of this one.”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that.
The sound of sirens filled the air. Not just the police either. About ten minutes, two police cars and an ambulance arrived. Tess, Randy and I wandered off to the side so the paramedics weren’t hindered. Mr. Gruber came out to stand with us as well. He was a good man, kind and always welcoming. He reminded me a bit of my grandfather. Always very friendly and happy to help you if you needed it. He was a generous man too, donating all his leftover stock to the local soup kitchens and shelters. He was also the kind of man who had no love for the Ross family. A few years back, Charles Ross tried to buy out his store unsuccessfully. So there had been a slight smile on his face when he saw Brian laying there.
I couldn’t blame him.
I was inwardly smiling myself.
While the paramedics worked, I reluctantly called Mom. To say she was pissed was an understatement. First, she scolded me but when I managed to tell her all the details, she tried to hide her praise. Her relief too.
“Kenzie, sweetheart, lest you forget you’re not really a boy.”
It was Mom’s way of saying I shouldn’t be fighting.
For once I agreed.
“I’m ok,” I said, a second later. “I didn’t lay a hand on him. He did all the work all by himself. But just in case, you might want to get the lawyer ready.”
I knew how the Ross’s worked after all.
We’d been there before.
Mom sighed. “I’ll call your father and let him know. I’m sure he’ll be there soon.”
He was too. Within about five minutes. I think he ran over. Jax didn’t look happy. He gave me that look. When he saw Brian sitting in the back of the ambulance, conscious and glaring at me, Jax gave me another look. It was the “Here we go again” variety. I knew to expect a lecture from him later. I had promised him long ago never again to get involved with Brian Ross and I’d been good on my promise. Its just well, I didn’t like to see men push around women who couldn’t defend themselves. Hell, I didn’t like seeing anyone get pushed around, to be honest.
The police took our statements.
Randy verified what Tess and I said. He even added that it was all caught on film. That was going to go a long way in backing our story. Tess was able to fill in what I missed. Apparently, she came to the store alone. She was leaving when Brian confronted her in the parking lot. She didn’t even know he was there. She wasn’t even sure how he knew she was there. She just broke up with him, on the last day of school apparently. She got tired of his jealous ways and always wanting to know where she was and who she was with. So she ended it. Brian apparently didn’t see it that way. He tried to force himself on her and that’s when I arrived.
Tess held onto me the whole time she talked.
In a way that most guys would have gone head over heels for.
Me, I was uncomfortable.
I was more uncomfortable with the way she was looking at me.
I came to her rescue because she was in trouble. It had been the right thing to do. Tess knew that. Yet the way she stared at me now, it told me something else. Something I hadn’t expected. She was crushing on me. Maybe not intentionally but it was still there. I was her Rescuer and she wanted to repay my kindness. I saw it in her eyes. They were the same eyes that a lustful girl gets in movies. They bore into me, seemingly peering into my very soul. They found something too. Something that she didn’t find but I sure did. They found my stupidity. This would never have happened if I’d done the proper thing all those years ago.
Brian would never have taken a swing at a girl.
Tess would have been grateful for my rescue but she wouldn’t be staring at me like that.
Shit.
I’d been a fool.
After the police were done with the questioning, they made sure to follow the leaving ambulance. They were on their way to the hospital with some questions of their own for Brian.
I slowly detached myself from Tess.
“Can I call you later?” she asked innocently.
“Sure,” I said, giving her my cell number.
I meant to give it to her a couple of days ago anyway.
“Tess, honey,” said a voice.
Her mother. Tess gave me a quick hug before running over to her mother and throwing herself into the woman’s arms. I watched for a moment before turning away.
I still held my cell.
I texted Mom.
YOU WERE RIGHT. I’VE BEEN AN IDIOT. THIS CHARADE HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH.
I sighed before typing the last bit.
IF YOU WANT YOUR DAUGHTER, I’LL GIVE HER TO YOU.
My phone rang a minute or so later.
“Are you sure, honey?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said then took a deep breath. “On one condition...”
No chickening out this time.
I was getting my vacation whether she liked it or not.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note: Another Monday, time for another chapter. I'm sorry about how slow this time is going. Every time I think its starting to progress, one of the chapters takes on a mind of its own. I do at some point hope to get her on her actual vacation lol. In this chapter, Mac's mother is not going to come across as likable. I was told that, well the reader told me how much they didn't like her here. Don't judge her too harshly, she's doing what she thinks is best. Don't judge Mac too harshly either. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter :).
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4.
I lied.
Though at the time I didn’t realize it was a lie. Now I definitely did. Maybe it was the stress of the situation or maybe it was because I was tired of being pushed around. Or maybe it was because I was scared of the affection that Tess was showering me with. I was used to the stares or the occasional blushing but that’s all it ever was. Guys would even try to flirt from time to time but I always ignored it. Partially because I thought they were being polite but mostly because they were strangers. It was usually when I lowered my guard too. I’d either forget to wear my hood like at the grocery store or I’d wear a normal bra that didn’t squish my girls so much. Regardless, whenever someone did notice my true gender, I dealt with it.
No one had ever actually given my masquerade any attention though.
I didn’t really have any friends.
Not real ones anyway.
I had plenty of people that I knew and talked too on a regular basis, like Tess for instance. I never really considered her a friend though. We didn’t hang out together outside of school. Even in school we didn’t sit together at lunch or meet up in the hallway outside of our brief locker conversations. We were acquaintances. I had a lot of those. Not just in real life either. In some of the games I played and the forums, I visited online. I didn’t know any of those people in real life. It was easy that way. Sometimes it was hard enough keeping my lives separate from one another, adding friends would have just complicated things more.
I used to have them though.
Before “Ken” vanished into a disguise.
They were all gone now though. Well still there but gone from my life. I couldn’t take the risk. I also didn’t want them to think I was a freak. Ok, I’ll admit it, I was afraid to lose them. So I did the only rational thing I could think of and cut them out of my life before they could do the same to me. They were bitter and confused for a while but they got over it quickly. That’s how these things worked.
What does any of that have to do with being a Liar?
Well…
“I can’t do this!”
Mom sighed.
We were sitting in front of my vanity, she was in the process of putting some light makeup on my face. After my revelation that I was tired of pretending to be a boy, Mom had been ecstatic of course. The first thing she did was take me out shopping. She was like a whirlwind crazy lady, dragging me from one store to the next. We bought more clothes than I could fit in my clothes. Definitely more than I was ever going to wear. I tried to stop her but once Mom got going on something there was no stopping her. That was a couple of days ago. She’d been building up to this moment ever since. She made a lot of strategic purposes without me too. Ones she was secretive about and refused to reveal to me unless I agreed to this very moment.
“You’re the one who wanted to do this” she reminded me.
I nodded but that was two days ago.
I’d had plenty of time to think about it since.
Let’s be honest here.
I was scared.
Being Ken was safe and easy. I’d been “Ken” all my life. People associated the disguise with me. The problem is, that’s all it was. It might have been all it ever was. I tried thinking back on my life before, back when I thought I was a boy. Save playing baseball for that tiny bit of time, I never really was much of a boy. I didn’t like to rough house, I didn’t like to get dirty, I hated doing guy things. Jax tried to get me to watch sports with him but I thought it was boring. He tried getting me to camping with him but the great outdoors was messy and smelly. The only thing we actually ever truly bonded with was fighting. I loved being in the ring, learning new things. Jax once said I had an aptitude for it.
I had other non-boy like hobbies too.
Like the acting.
I’m not saying acting wasn’t masculine or anything. I’m just saying that most boys my age didn’t go out of their way to do it. I loved it though. I loved putting on a costume and pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Pretending. I was really good at that. When puberty hit and my body started to change in ways I never expected, I decided to still pretend. Pretend to be a boy. I was good at it. Apparently, I’d been doing it for nearly eleven years of my life. Being a boy was easy for me. It was all about the way I walked, what I wore, how I kept my hair. When my voice didn’t change, I changed it. When my breasts started to grow and my hips widened, I hid them.
I did a really good job too.
There were some things I couldn’t hide though.
For one, my laugh.
I had a really girly laugh.
I hated it.
But I am a girl after all. I’m supposed to have a girl’s laugh. It's just when you’re supposed to be a boy and you laugh like a girl, it gets noticed. So I tried to not laugh around others. It wasn’t easy. It was also the least of my problems. The other one was boys. I could deny it all I wanted it but I loved boys. I loved the way they looked and the way they smelled. A particularly gorgeous one made me weak in the knees. I was a puddle of goo when they smiled at me. I wanted to be with them, I wanted to be held by them, I wanted to be kissed by them. They made me hot and bothered and at first, I tried to hide it. I thought I was turning gay. But girls were supposed to like boys. Not that a girl liking a girl is wrong its just well I wasn’t that kind of girl apparently.
Dr. Martin and I had a lot of conversations about it.
She told me that these feelings were natural. They might have been but not for me. I was trying to be a boy after all. I couldn’t let other boys see me staring at them or else they’d think I was gay. Blood in the water. The names were bad enough but if they actually confronted me about it, tried to fight me, I’d either get exposed as a girl or expelled for beating the shit out of them. Neither scenario was beneficial to me. So I tried to ignore my feelings. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t doctor approved either. I loved Dr. Martin, she was great. She just didn’t understand how difficult things were for me.
No one truly did.
“Honey its just makeup” said, Mom, after I didn’t respond for some time.
“It's not just makeup” I hissed finally.
Mom set down the eyeliner pencil she was holding.
Looking in the mirror, seeing what she’d done so far, yeah it definitely wasn’t just makeup.
There was a girl in that mirror.
A pretty girl.
I think I’d been in denial for far too long. Everyone kept telling me how much I looked like my mother. It's something that most kids expect to hear. “Oh, you look like your Mom or your Dad”, typical stuff. The problem is I was a daughter that looked like her mother. Mom was a model, a supermodel. I’d seen plenty of photos of her when she was my age. I saw those really bad Butcher Beach movies she was in too. I knew what Mom looked like when she was younger. Looking in the mirror now---with just the subtlest hints of makeup---I looked like her. I was Caroline Russell 2.0 and it scared the hell out of me.
I wasn’t supposed to be pretty.
I was Ken Hodge.
Ok so never really Ken but I was trying to be.
Ken was not supposed to be pretty.
I started to tear up, I couldn’t help it.
Mom put a gentle on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, it was too much, too fast.”
She understood.
“I just...”
“Say no more,” she said, wrapping me in a tight hug.
I couldn’t remember the last time Mom hugged me like that. I found myself wrapping my arms around her too. It was nice. Is this what mothers and daughters did? Did they hug all the time? Cried on one another's shoulder? Is this what I would have to look forward too from now on?
No not from now on.
Until September.
I was still bound and determined to finish school as “Ken”. I made that abundantly clear to my mother when I told her my decision. I was just going to take this opportunity to explore things more this summer. In the past, I only ever dressed as a girl on vacation. It really wasn’t all that different than dressing as a boy, to be honest. The clothes were cut different, some of them tighter on my body of course. They were still shorts and tees though. I never let her put makeup on me and I hated heels. I knew how to walk in them of course but I refused to wear them. Just like skirts and dresses. I could never wear bikinis either. Not that I would if I could but my condition didn’t really allow it. My protrusion down below was too small to tuck like transgender boys could do and it was noticeable enough in a bikini bottom to draw attention. So I resorted to wearing a one piece with a wrap around. There were other means to try and hide it but I didn’t want to go that far.
Though Mom tried, she didn’t press the issue.
There was something I didn’t tell her though. It was smaller now. Like I said, it was like the size of a five-year-old's penis. Or least it used to be. I’m not sure how something like this worked but as I got older, it seemed to get smaller. Dr. Crane---my specialist---told me that it might be a possibility. Though it would never revert to a normal size without corrective measures, it could be small enough to pass as a normal girl. It started to get smaller about a year ago. Still not small enough for a bikini but small enough that it could pass for a large camel toe. Ok, so I’ll admit I never actually tried the bikini thing, at least not for some time. Mom tried a few years back but we saw it wouldn’t work so we didn’t try again.
It's the reason I wasn’t telling her about the shrinkage.
I knew how she worked.
“So” she said, after our very long and awkward silence. “We have all afternoon, what do you want to do?”
What did I want to do?
It had been a couple of days since my run-in with Brian. After getting over the initial shock of it all, my parents and I had a long talk. That’s when I dropped the whole vacation bombshell on them. Of course, Mom freaked. She tried to use the “you’re a seventeen-year-old girl and there’s no way I’m letting you” excuse/argument. Like I suspected Jax was on my side. I didn’t even have to rope him into it either. He fought my case, using responsibility, maturity and a “need to find herself” as his argument. It took some convincing but Jax and I were able to finally win Mom over. It was all pretty anti-climatic actually. Mom quickly came around to the idea, she even saw some merit in it. Though she did give me “rules” I had to follow:
1.I wasn’t allowed to leave the country.
2. I wasn’t allowed to throw any parties.
3.No Drugs or Alcohol of ANY kind.
4.No One was allowed into the house unless I got permission first
5. NO BOY MODE
The first three were pretty obvious and nothing she had to worry about from me. I had no intention of leaving the county for starters. The state sure but not the country. I didn’t let her know about that though. I figured I’d fill them in as soon as I was on my way. Rules 2 and 3 went together. Also a No Brainer for me, I mean I had no friends for starters. There was no one to invite to a party or into the house for that matter. I guess Rule 4 could be folded into that as well. Rule 3 was easy. I’d never actually touched any drugs or alcohol of any kind. I wouldn’t even know where to get drugs, well the illegal kind. Alcohol I had to be twenty-one. None of my fake IDs were for over the age of eighteen. Yes, I had a few fake ones. Basically so I didn’t raise questions if I was out in “boy mode”.
Speaking of Boy Mode, that last rule wasn’t fair.
I was running scared.
I’ll admit it.
My mother clearly figured it out too because she wanted me to stick to my guns.
I opened my mouth to answer her question, she stopped me.
“Before you say something, need I remind you that laying around on your butt all day is not a good enough answer.”
I sighed. “So then what’s the right answer?”
Mom smiled.
Oh God, I hated that smile.
The mall.
The bane of my existence.
My mother’s mecca.
Ok, so I’m over exaggerating a bit on that last part but not by much. I think my mother and my sister spent more time here then they did at home. I never really could understand the pull. Maybe its because I spent the first eleven years of my life being a “boy” or maybe it was because I didn’t really care to shop. Most of the time I would go to the store, get what I want and leave. My mother called it a “Man’s way to shop”. It was one of the reason that she hated taking me shopping. Her complaining about the way I liked to shop was the chief reason I hated going shopping with her.
And yet here I was.
Not by choice that’s for sure.
“You wanted to torture me, didn’t you?”
We just pulled into the parking garage, Mom finally found a spot toward the top. She rolled her eyes as she shut the engine off.
“Stop being so overdramatic.”
I wasn’t.
“What are we doing here, again?”
“You need some more outfits,” she said as she got out of the car. “Plus I think a quick salon visit might be nice.”
“Salon, you said nothing about a salon!”
I got out of the car quickly. Mom was already making her way toward the elevators. For a woman wearing high heeled boots, she was moving remarkably fast. I actually had to run a bit to catch her. She was already at the elevator, stepping inside. I barely got in myself before the door closed.
The parking garage was five stories, whereas the mall itself was only three. We had to park at the top, so the ride down to the third floor was pretty quiet. There wasn’t even any of that annoying elevator music to keep us company. Just as well. I passed the time thinking about how crazy my mother was. When I told her I wanted to try this whole girl thing, I never thought she’d take it this far. I mean sure I was a girl but Mom was going all out full girly mode. I wasn’t expecting that. I should have, considering how girly Claudia was. I just thought maybe Mom might keep it a little more low key for me. She knew I was new to all of this and I wasn’t exactly the most feminine thing around. When she did some clothes shopping for me the other day though, she went a little overboard.
Lots of little shorts, tight jeans and tiny tank tops.
Clothes that showed off my figure.
Clothes that screamed “GIRL!”.
I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to throw me headfirst into the deep end. You gotta sink to swim. She was trying to overwhelm me with all things super girly so that I could get the full immersion. It was a nasty and cruel thing to do. She justified it all by telling me, “you’ve been denying yourself for too long, you have a lot of catching up to do.” When I’d done the whole girl thing during vacations, I usually just went very low key with things. Some unisex shirts and shorts. The bare minimum as it were. Mom wasn’t going to let me do that this time.
We entered the mall proper after the very short elevator ride.
I was always flabbergasted by the mall, especially this early in the day. It wasn’t even noon and it was already jam-packed with people. Lake View Galleria wasn’t the only mall in the city but it was definitely the largest and most popular. Three floors, a crap ton of stores and far too many kids my own age. Some of them might even be classmates. I suddenly felt really naked. I pulled my hood as far down over my head as I could and tried unsuccessfully to pull on the bottoms of the tiny shorts Mom got me to wear. I hated shorts, they showed off my bony, chalk white chicken legs.
Plus Mom made me shave this morning.
My legs were all smooth and they creeped me out.
Mom looped her arm through mine, smacking at hands.
“I think we need to hit the shops first,” she said, leading me to my doom. “Then lunch before we hit the salon.”
I groaned.
I tried digging my heels into the floor but the damn thing was marble or something.
As it was, my new girly flip flops had very little traction anyway.
When we got to our first teen girl-oriented shop, I tuned out. Mom took charge and started picking out things she liked. I had tunnel vision the whole time. She kept holding things up to me and putting them in the chart after asking me what I thought. I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before she moved onto the next article of clothing. I hated that. I just couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t protesting. I mean she was taking charge of my life and I was a silent passenger to the whole thing. The strange thing was, Mom had great fashion sense. I guess having a former supermodel for a mother was a blessing in that respect. I still couldn’t help but wonder who she was really shopping for?
“Go try these on," she said, pointing to all the things currently overflowing our cart.
“All of it?”
“Is something wrong, sweetie?”
This was it, my moment.
I opened my mouth to say something and…
Fucking chicken again.
“No Mom, I’m fine.”
Dammit.
Why was it so hard for me to tell her No?
I mean I stood up and took charge of my vacation, why couldn’t I take charge of this? Was I that much of a pushover and a coward or was it something else? Was I scared of my mother? Or was I really scared of myself? This had been my decision after all---deciding to try being a girl---and yet so far I’d done nothing to embrace it. Well, at least nothing on my own. As soon as I made the decision, Mom took charge of it. I let her too. The last few days it had been the Mom Show. She went shopping for me. She made me shave my legs. She made me wear these stupid clothes. She made me sit in front of that mirror with that makeup. Never once did she ask Me what I wanted.
And I was letting her do it.
Sighing, I looked at the cart full of clothes.
Clothes I hated.
Clothes I wanted to burn.
“Something wrong, honey?”
Yes.
“No,” I said, defeated. “Its just a lot.”
Mom laughed. “We’re not buying all of this. We just need to see what fits and what looks good on you. You’ll see.”
Mom was using “You” in that sentence but there was a lot of “We” as well. I couldn’t help but wonder as I looked from her to the clothes and back again if this was really about me at all? When I told Mom I wanted to give being a girl a shot, she said she'd help. I’d been here before though. The last few summers like I mentioned. It had always been a small, low key thing though. I would wear some clothes on a boat for a few weeks then I’d come home and they’d go away. I never fully committed to it though. It was almost as if I was a cross-dressing boy and not a real girl. Mom tried to be supportive but it visually pained her too. At the end of the summer, all those clothes went away and I was back to being Me again.
I didn’t have that option here.
I made that decision.
I made that promise.
Taking an armful of the offending garments, I trudged off to the changing rooms. I stripped to my skivvies quickly, trying not to think about it. I also tried to put my mind somewhere else. Then I smiled. A play. It was simple enough that I was surprised I’d never thought of it before. I was an actor after all. I’d been so wrapped up in all this emotional drama and things, I’d almost forgotten that. Clothes were nothing more than a costume right? Maybe I could make the Girl Me a costume as well? I’d done it before. Every summer in fact. I would put on the clothes, make a small effort and “play the girl” for my mother. I knew it wasn’t supposed to be acting but it really was. I didn’t know how to be a girl, a real one I mean.
I would often use the word masquerade when describing my “Ken mode” at school but was it really? Wasn’t Kenzie really the masquerade?
Taking a deep breath, I put on the first outfit.
I stepped out of the changing room and let my mother gush over me.
I rolled my eyes.
Be Kenzie.
Play the Role.
I smiled. “I’m not sure I like this one,” I said, dropping the masculine in my voice.
Mom didn’t even blink when she spoke, “That’s why we have so much honey, we need to find out what fits you.”
There’s that “We” bit again.
I went back into the changing room.
` The montage began.
Outfit after outfit. I stripped, dressed, faked a smile and a preen, took the bullshit compliments in stride then did it all over again. Over and over again. I lost track. I’m not sure exactly when it stopped being an act though. I think it was when I found a top and shorts that actually felt comfortably. The shorts were not tight and hugging my butt like an ass-glove and the shirt didn’t go out of its way to show the world I had boobs. Putting both on, I caught myself smiling in the mirror. Stepping out of the little room, Mom smiled at my smile.
“You like that one, don’t you?”
“I want more like this” I said, waving a hand over my body.
“Well maybe...”
“No,” I said, interrupting her. “Like this. Those other clothes are uncomfortable. I like this.”
Mom looked like she was about to protest but nodded. She took the cart with all the clothes I rejected. I smiled at her backside. So maybe I wasn’t such a pushover after all. At least when I found something that suited me. Mom came back a few minutes later, with more outfits like the one I currently had on. I tried those but didn’t really need too, she did a good job matching them all. Satisfied, I changed back into my original clothes. I then followed Mom to the register when the girl there chatted while she rang us up.
“Oh these are so cute” she gushed, like a giggling idiot. “You’ll look awesome in them!”
I smiled.
Play the Part.
Mom smiled too as she paid. We left the store. We got outside before we shared a laugh. Mom caught the bullshit too it would seem.
Hitting the other stores was much easier.
I found outfits similar to the ones I bought before. As long as I was now in control of what I wanted to wear, things with Mom went a bit smoother. I even managed a pair of jeans or two out of the deal. She tried unsuccessfully to steer me toward a skirt. She also tried a dress once but I blatantly refused. The only real contention we had was in the lingerie store. Mom insisted I try wearing a more feminine looking bra. I liked my sports bras though. They were comfortable and they had the support I liked.
“They’re ugly though,” she said, as I started grabbing what I wanted.
“No one is going to see them but me.”
Mom looked like she was going to say something then realized who she was talking too.
“You better be the only one seeing them!”
I laughed.
A moment later, a saleswoman materialized out of nowhere.
“Good afternoon ladies!”
Jesus Christ.
I nearly jumped.
She oozed right out of a clothing rack like the fucking T-1000.
She was middle-aged like my mother but unlike Mom, she didn’t take care of herself. She didn’t look old but she looked older than my mother. There was a great deal more age lines on her face and quite a bit grayer. She was shorter than us too, even with the heels. Mom in her heeled boots towered a whole head taller than this lady. I couldn’t help but smirk at that. The woman had a fake smile plastered on her face but it was clear she hated Mom. It was hard not to be jealous of the Great Caroline Russell. Ok, the Former Great Caroline Russell but she was still there even if she was only Caroline Hodge now.
“My name is Helen, I’m the Sales Manager, how may I assist you today.”
“My daughter and I are having a bra debate.”
I tuned out the rest of it.
Mom and Helen went back and forth. They tried to include me but I didn’t really care. Bra sizes were mentioned then they discussed styles and things. I put a few more sports bras into the cart.
“Honey, what do you think?”
Huh, what?
Shit.
I gave her a blank stare.
Mom sighed. “What do you think of this?”
Mom was holding up a bra.
I shrugged. “If we get a few can we leave?”
Yeah I really was done bra shopping.
Mom happily put a few into the cart.
When we got to the underwear, I wasn’t debating it. I HATED normal panties. They were just too damn girly for me. I went straight for the boy cut variety. Mom didn’t try arguing. She knew there was no way I was budging on those. I got several pairs then wandered over to the entrance while Mom went to check out. I tried looking disinterested as I looked at some bras near the door. They looked normal enough, just too girly for me to wear. I found myself absently touching one of the cups though, just to be sure.
"Those are great” said a chirpy voice behind me.
I jumped.
A perky sales girl about my age was suddenly at my elbow.
They’re all T-1000s in this place.
“They’re for girls like us,” she said then in a whisper added. “You know, with very little up top.”
I felt embarrassed and instinctively covered my chest with a hand.
She giggled. “Its nothing to be ashamed about and with one of those you don’t have too, they’re padded, you know to make us look bigger.”
Bigger?
Why in the hell would I want them to look bigger?
Thankfully Mom showed up and saved me.
She saw me looking at the bras though and smiled. I flushed red in embarrassment. I rushed out of the store before she could say anything.
We had quite a few bags now.
And I was getting hungry.
“Why don’t you go to the food court, get something to eat, I’ll take these to the car and come join you.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice.
I quickly made my way toward the elevator, navigating the throngs of people with ease.
The Food Court was on the second floor of the mall. I rode the elevator alone, staring out its glass sides at all the people. Too many people. Trying not to think about it, I entered the already packed court. I found my usual: Dave’s Hotdogs. I got my usual too, a large double cheeseburger, fries, rings and a large chocolate shake. Finding a seat near the trashcans, I started to dig in. Say what you will about me but I never did develop a dainty, girly appetite. The great thing is that I could eat what I wanted and not gain weight. I burned calories fast. That and I would work off this meal later. It was one of the perks of owning a Gym.
I was halfway through my burger when I noticed I was being watched.
I only slightly noticed them.
A couple of tables over there was a group of guys my age. They were trying to be subtle about it but I knew they were looking. At first, I thought they were gearing up to start crap until I realized how I was dressed. The tiny shorts, the girl’s hoodie. Shit. My hood was down too and though my hair was pretty unisex, Mom managed to style it a bit this morning before we left. She also managed to get some light lip gloss on my lips before I protested the whole makeup fiasco. With the clothes, the hair and the gloss, I looked like a fucking girl. Ok so I was a girl but boys didn’t usually know that.
One of them stood up. He had sandy blonde hair and dimples. Cute ones. Shit.
He came wandering over.
Double Shit.
“Hey” he said, leaning on the chair across from me.
“Hey,” I said, not sure how to respond.
“I know you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ve seen you before?”
I shrugged. “I live in the city, its possible.”
It wasn’t. This guy thought he was being smooth. I’m sure it worked before. On other girls. I thankfully was not like most of them. I’ll admit he was cute but there was no way in hell I was letting some guy try to pick me up in a mall food court.
“I’m Dave.”
“That’s nice.”
Dave’s smile faded slightly but he didn’t stop trying. “My buddies and I are going to see a movie, you want to tag along?”
I looked over at his friends.
They were looking our way.
They were cute too, in their own way.
I wasn’t going there though.
“Not interested.”
“Why not?”
I sighed heavily. “Because I’m shopping with my mother.”
“Is she as cute as you?”
I groaned. I wanted to bust this guy’s nose. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled. How could I do this without making myself a target?
“You seem like a nice guy, Dave. You’re cute, you have that going for you at least but you see I’m just not that interested. I like them really butch, you know big biceps, buzzed heads and breasts bigger than your head, you understand?”
The color drained from Dave’s face.
He understood.
“Yeah, thanks anyway.”
He turned and walked back to his table. He dropped into his seat. His table was close enough so I’m sure his friends heard our conversation. They started to laugh. I couldn’t help but smirk. Dave and his buddies stayed long enough for Mom to show up. They were leaving when she was arriving. Dave, it seemed still couldn’t grasp the concept of my supposed lesbianism because he kept staring even though he knew I wasn’t interested.
“Who’s your friend?” asked Mom, watching the boys leave.
“No one” I said, feeling myself blush.
Mom gave me a knowing smile.
I ignored it.
We sat and ate lunch in relative silence. Well, I was silent anyway. Mom was talking about the rest of the day. I didn’t really like the sound of it. Instead of speaking up though, I kept my mouth shut again. Mom was a whirlwind that you couldn’t stop. I’d seen the shows on the Weather Channel, the Tornado chaser ones. I knew what happens during a tornado. So it was just best to let the whirlwind do its thing, let nature take its course and pick up the pieces afterward. It was a horrible analogy on my life at the moment but I was too much of a coward to stand in her path. So I’d hide in my little-armored vehicle and wait until she passed.
Fun times ahead for me.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note: Its Monday, new chapter time. First things first, there's a new pic of Mac to go with this chapter. I'll probably be using this pic from now on. The chapter will explain the change. Also I know Mac has green eyes and the girl in the pic has blue, I just loved her so much and I didn't want to mess with photo shop to change them. A couple of quick things about this chapter. First, Dr. Martin finally makes an appearance. Second, don't judge Mac's mother too harshly, you'll see what I mean.
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5.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
I wanted to punch the alarm. Pulling my pillow over my head and squeezing it tight like a comfy helmet, I tried to drown out the sound. Unfortunately, no amount of cushion could deafen the noise. My mother bought me the most annoying one. She said I had problems waking up in the morning. Me, I just liked the warmth of the covers. I would find no warmth in them today though. Groaning, I literally had the pull them off my body. Summer was arriving and with it the heat.
Sitting up, I tried hitting the alarm clock with my pillow but missed.
Putting it on the other side of the room had been Mom’s idea too. That way I would have to get up to shut it off. You know instead of hitting snooze and rolling back to sleep. She was an evil woman when she wanted to be. I’d seen that more in the past week than my whole life though.
Grunting, I slowly crawled out of bed.
The alarm shut off before I could get there. Cursing, I unplugged it from the wall instead of waiting for it to start up its cycle again. Satisfied, I made my way to the bathroom. The bathroom was smack dab in the middle of mine and Claudia’s room. Each of us had a door to access it. It was a surprisingly spacious room, with two sinks, a toilet and both a shower and bath. Claudia preferred the bathtub over the shower. I was the opposite. When we were younger, it never even occurred to me what sharing a bathroom with my little sister might be like. After I started puberty and my real gender was revealed to me, things didn’t change. Except now it didn’t smell as bad. Gone were the musky male scented deodorants and shampoo, in their place flowery fragrances and flower decals.
The decals were hers.
Walking over to the toilet, I sat to pee. I’ve always sat to pee. It was something I never really questioned until I realized I wasn’t a guy. Boys stood to pee. They had penises, that’s what they did. There were urinals in the boy’s bathroom so they could pee. Yet, I didn’t use those and always sat down. Why was that? Growing up, I thought it was perfectly normal to be a boy who sat down to pee. I convinced myself it was because my penis was too small. Puberty was a very eye-opening experience for me.
Not as eye opening as today though.
Flushing, I went to my sink to wash my hands.
The girl in the mirror was a stranger.
She was still me but I barely recognized her.
It was all my mother’s fault.
The trip to the mall had been three days ago. After shopping and eating lunch, I had really been regretting our salon appointment. I wasn’t disappointed. It was horrible. The first thing my mother asked them about was extensions. She wanted me to have nice, flowing hair. She said it would help me better adjust to being a girl. I tried to argue it and so did the stylist. I was almost in tears at one point. The stylist came to my rescue. She got me to agree to the extensions, as long as I got to approve on the length. Thinking about it now made me smirk. I couldn’t have the short mop of hair I was used too but I was able to get them to cut the hair to just past my shoulders, not quite mid-back but close. I used to have it there once. Most of the kids my age used to pick on me for it but I always thought I was Thor. Like from the movies. He had long hair like that so why couldn’t I. After I found out I was being lied too by my parents, the first thing I did was cut all the hair off. I did it myself, with a pair of scissors. I did such a chop job on it my head had to be buzzed.
Mom was furious.
I was triumphant.
I almost wanted to take Jax’s razor and shave all this shit off right now. I know it would have pissed Mom off royally. I didn’t though. It was a compromise I was willing to live with for a couple of months. That’s all it was supposed to be too, months. The extensions were to be removed before I started school in the Fall. I made that abundantly clear. I got more compromises out of the deal too. Piercings, as in plural. Two in each ear and one in my nose. Well, actually I had the one returned to my nose. I used to have my nose pierced. I did it when I was sixteen. It was supposed to make me look cool. Mom hated it. Eventually, I started to hate it too and removed it. I still had the hole though.
Now it was back.
A tiny silver ring.
It was the only thing I liked about my face right now.
They shaped my brows too, into nice feminine arches.
I looked ridiculous.
I almost had them pierce one of those too but Mom put her foot down.
Sighing, I splashed some water on my face.
“You should have fought harder,” I said softly to myself.
As usual, though, I let Mom steamroll right over the top of me and get what she wanted. Typical coward move. After the extensions and the cut, we had mani-pedis too. I won’t openly admit it but I liked that part. I didn’t like the body waxing. Especially down at the bikini line, not fun at all. If the government ever needed new Torturers, I knew where they could find some. They gave me a full makeover too, makeup and all that crap. My own living hell. I nearly ran out of the place when it was time to go. When we got home, Jax tried complimenting me until he saw how upset it made me. While I locked myself in my room to cry, my parents fought over it. I couldn’t remember the last time I heard him shout at her like that.
Claudia slept with me that night.
They were gone now.
They left for their vacation yesterday morning.
The fighting had stopped by then but they left miserable.
“Just as well,” I said once again to myself.
The girl in the mirror responded the same.
I sighed. This was going to be me for the next six to eight weeks. That’s how long the extensions were able to stay in for. Mom went all out. They were actual human hair and surprisingly close to my original hair color. It wasn’t quite right so there were some highlights done. I know I said I didn’t like this whole girl makeover and part of that was true but it wasn’t all bad. I mean it was my idea after all. The problem was that my mother didn’t stop and ask me what I wanted to do. She just went wild with it and turned me into the type of daughter she wanted me to be. The type of girl staring back at me from the mirror.
Sighing, I finished washing my hands and face then brushed my teeth.
I went through the typical morning routine every morning.
Stripping, I stepped into the shower.
I usually took a hot shower in the morning but with summer right around the corner and the temperature rising, I took a nice cold one. It helped wake me up too. Thankfully I only stayed in for about fifteen minutes or so, enough to wash my body and my brand new hair. Long hair was a pain in the ass to take care of. All the washing and brushing and other care. It was the other reason I cut off all my hair. I hated taking care of it. Personally, I think Mom gave me these extensions out of spite. Ok so not really. Mom was a bit old fashioned when it came to the type of person she thought a girl should be. Long hair, pretty face, nice clothes. Not exactly me. Well not exactly the Me I was before she gave me this makeover.
I hated her.
Not Mom.
The girl I’d become.
Leaving the bathroom, I quickly put together an outfit for today. Ugh. When did I start calling them “outfits”? Trying to ignore my new terminology, I grabbed a fresh pair of undies, a new shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans. All of them very female. As much as I hated the whole hair and face makeover, I didn’t really mind the clothes. Clothes were clothes. They didn’t make you a different person wearing them. It was all about how you presented yourself in them. I could still wear these and get away with being “me”. Sure it would take a little extra work and my old hoodie but I think I could pull it off.
I dressed slowly.
I decided to try one of Mom’s new bras.
I’m not going to lie, it was really comfortable.
Not that I was going to tell her that of course.
It also made me feel like a woman.
Queue Shania Twain.
Seriously though, it was the right blend of feminine and manageable. My breasts filled the cups properly and it didn’t pinch on the sides. The sports bras pinched. They were restricting too. Looking down, I saw breasts too. My old bras tended to flatten them against my chest a bit too much. They provided the proper support of course but they were meant to be worn for athletic things. Wearing an actual bra that fit and was designed for support, it was a new experience for me. It scared me how much I loved it. This was something of my mother’s, one of her victories. I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it. I wanted to rebel against it. She wasn’t here anymore to force me to play along with her “Build a Daughter” construction kit. I could do what I wanted, dress how I wanted and yet here I was putting on the clothes she bought me---the clothes I hated---and I was actually enjoying them.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I grabbed at the bra, trying to pull it violently from my body.
I would have pulled it clean off if my phone didn’t beep.
Shit.
Reaching across the bed to my nightstand, I found my cell where I left it last night.
I groaned when I saw it.
Another message from Tess.
WANT 2 HANG 2 DAY.
Cursing, I dropped my phone on the bed. Ever since rescuing her from Brian, the girl had been trying nonstop to get my attention. You had to admire her determination. I was apparently her new conquest. Or rather, her attempt at a conquest because so far she had conquested nothing. And that’s how it was going to continue to be. Before puberty, girls were girls. I didn’t hate them or like them. They were just there. They wore dresses, braids in their hair and could be annoying. They were mysteries to me too. Boys my age started to like them, started to say “that one is cute” or “man I’d like to date her”. Things that meant something to me but things I didn’t feel. I was confused. Girls confused me even more. Then I found out I was one too. I was floored. I started to think of girls differently then. They were still mysterious but suddenly the mystery became something else.
Did I like them too?
I found that out when I turned thirteen.
His name was Jason.
And yes, I had a crush on him.
I tried to hide it though, tried to ignore it. I decided to shut myself off from it. To shut myself off from dating anyone. I pretended though. I started to use the words the guys used. I started to refer to girls in a certain way and pretended to like this one or that one in a sexual way. It was a lie though. It was all part of the masquerade too. It worked too well though. I might have let slip to Tess once that I thought Tara was really cute. She was but not in a sexual way. I wasn’t the least bit attracted to Tara or any other girl for that matter. Which I think is where my problem started.
Tess.
I should have let her think I was gay like everyone else.
I thought she thought I was.
Even with my “cute Tara” comment.
The last few days though---through our texting---I found out that she not only didn’t think I was gay but that she was attracted to me. She’d been attracted to me for some time now. I was sweet and sensitive and not afraid to share my feelings. Everything a stable girl was truly looking for in a prospective mate. There was only just one small problem: I wasn’t a boy. Definitely not the boy that Tess thought I was. Out of all my years pretending to be a boy, I never once thought what might happen if a girl actually fell in love with me. Now I was here and I didn’t know what to do about it. I’ll admit it, I was scared. Tess was one of the big reasons I decided to take the plunge and be myself this summer.
Brian was the other reason.
I think I was finally sick and tired of being a guy.
Maybe.
I didn’t know.
That’s what my doctor was there for.
Smiling, I picked up my cell, remembering.
Today was Friday.
SORRY TESS, I typed, CAN’T TODAY. HAVE APPT.
Her reply was quick: K with a frowny face.
I shut off my phone after that, sighed and tossed it on my bed.
This was getting very complicated.
Hopefully, Dr. Martin would be able to help.
“Well, good morning, Miss,” said Henry as I walked on the bus.
I sighed.
“Morning, Henry.”
I dropped into my usual seat, surprising the older bus driver. He stared at me for a few moments, trying to process.
Henry knew the truth about me. I decided long ago not to keep that secret from him. He was a good man and didn’t judge. The fact that he had a daughter of his own helped. He was like a surrogate father and grandfather rolled into one. Kind and supportive and a good listener. Like I said before, we talked. Not only about him and his problems. He knew all mine too. I think it was par the course for the profession. Cab drivers, bartenders, priests and bus drivers. People, I think told them everything. Henry was not just great at telling stories, he was good at hearing them too. When I told him about my true gender, he didn’t even blink. He didn’t treat me any different either.
“Mac?” he asked, I sighed and nodded. He smiled. “This is a different look for you.”
“It was my Mom’s idea.”
I quickly filled him in as we drove.
Dr. Martin’s office was quite a few blocks from our home so we had the time.
Once again he sat and listened. We made about six stops along the way, he only stopped my talking briefly to let new passengers on or current ones off. We started talking about my new look but it devolved into my life over the last week or so since I’d seen him. Ok, so one week and a day. School let out on Wednesday last week and today was the first of June. Wow, had everything only happened in a week? Let’s see I told him about Tess and the playlist, my lesson with the children, my fight with Brian. Henry had a slight, satisfied smile on his face during that story. I don’t think there was a single person in the city who had any love for the Ross family. Tess was the only one I knew and now that was over. Though I don’t think she ever loved him.
“That’s quite the decision.”
I shrugged. “I sorta fell into it. I knew it was getting there, its something I’ve been doing over the summer for the last few years or so.”
“But only sparingly, right?” he asked, I nodded. ‘This is quite a big step up from that. You sure you’re ready for it?”
“That’s what I’m gonna find out.”
He smiled then gave me a pensive look. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Of course!”
"I think you should be your own person, kiddo,” he said seriously. “Not this person your mother is attempting to turn you in to. You love your mother and want to do right by her, I get that but you can’t just let her tell you what to do and how to act, it's not right.”
“I know.”
“Remember what your Shakespeare said, To Thine Own Self Be True.”
Wow, Henry quoting Hamlet.
Never thought I’d see the day.
We shared a laugh.
The bus finally came to my stop. I got up and gave him a hug, surprising both of us I think. I’d never actually hugged him before. Henry had a big smile on his face as I stepped off, so I knew I didn’t overstep my bounds. I waved and watched as the bus disappeared into the morning traffic. I waited until it was around the corner before turning and walking into the giant building that was Dr. Martin’s office.
Ok so the whole building wasn’t hers, that would be ridiculous. Her office was just in it. Along with several other doctors and professionals. The whole block was devoted to them I think. The streets were lined with tall glass buildings on either side, each no smaller than five stories. The current one I was stepping into had six, Dr. Martin’s office was on the third floor.
Besides school and the Gym, it was practically my second home. In fact, for a while, I probably spent more time here than in school. Well, at least it felt like that sometimes. I only came about once or twice a month now but in the beginning, I was here at least three times a week. I mean after finding out you were a girl when you thought you were a boy, it takes its toll. There were some pretty rough patches along the way. Not just the whole hair cutting thing. Rebellion was one thing but when you were on suicide watch for nearly a month, yeah it wasn’t anything to smile about. Just thinking about it now made me want to cry. It also made me feel weak. I’m not saying suicide was weak, I’m just saying that I was ashamed of myself to think that I ever thought about ending my life.
After it was determined I no longer wanted to kill myself, Dr. Martin made me go to a support group. It was one for transgender teens. I knew I didn’t really fit into that category but she thought if I was with children in similar circumstances as my own, it might help open my eyes. It did. I really felt for those people. I felt kindred with them in a way. All my life I thought I was a boy, I lived like a boy, was treated like a boy, thought I was going to be one the rest of my life. Then I found out it was a lie. Ok so not a lie really, a non-truth. The group helped put things into perspective for me. I met people who were struggling with their gender and identity like me but unlike me, they were in the wrong bodies.
Ok so maybe like me?
I still went to group when I could just not as frequent as before. It was usually held on Saturdays and I spent most of those in the Gym. I still participated in the online aspect of it though. We had a forum and I tried to stay up to date on there as much as I could. I made some decent friends there. People I could talk too and turn too if I needed help or comfort. Just not people I saw every day. Not without trying though. It was my choice though. I could be my true self with them and yet I was scared. Even now I was scared.
What if I liked it too much?
What if Ken went away for good?
The scariest thought of all though: What if Ken going away wasn’t such a bad thing?
I kept those thoughts in my head as I walked through the building’s lavish lobby into the elevator. I rode to the third floor, my mind flooded with questions. When the elevator stopped, those were replaced with butterflies. This was after all the first time I’d been truly out like this. I mean after Mom’s makeover. After the clothes shopping and salon, I was bound and determined to stay in the house. It was all so different and embarrassing and scary. Then my parents were fighting. I was actually a bit happy that they left. I hated feeling like that. Someone shouldn’t feel glad when their family isn’t around. Especially when said family goes off on a vacation without them. Sure it was my choice but I was a bit sad by the whole thing too. A bit angry too that they went off all feeling so miserable.
I exited the elevator, finding myself numbly walking into the waiting room.
I wandered over to the large sectional in the middle of the room, dropping down on one of the comfy leather sofas. I picked up a back issue of Teen Vogue from the little table, trying to hide behind the magazine. I felt like the room was staring at me, though the only one currently present was the receptionist, Clara. Taking a quick peek, I nearly bolted. She was staring. Not in a bad way though. She was confused. I liked Clara a lot. She was a former patient of the doctor’s. She was also the one who ran our support group now. It always boggled my mind that such a gorgeous woman had been born a boy. She was inspired by the group too. She was in her second year of college now, studying psychology. She wanted to help people like her.
She continued to stare at me until I think it finally clicked.
I saw the look of recognition on her face.
“Mac?”
“Hey Clara,” I said sheepishly.
She was still staring.
“You look...” she said, standing up and walking around the desk. She walked over to me. “Wow.”
“Is that a good wow or...”
“It's a great wow,” she said, smiling big. “Your hair looks great and I love the clothes.” She did give me a concerned look though. “I just didn’t think you were ready to go this far yet.”
“I wasn’t but something happened and well...”
A buzz from Clara’s intercom interrupted me.
Clara looked at her desk. “That’s the Doc, she probably wants to see you now. If you want to talk afterward, I’ll be here.”
I smiled, stood up and gave her a hug.
Apparently, I’m hugging everyone these days.
We pulled away then I slowly made my way toward Dr. Martin’s office. Only pausing for a moment to gently knock on the door. I heard her muffled “enter” before stepping inside.
It was a pretty spacious office with a great view. The windows were large and let in a lot of light, bathing the room in a warm and inviting glow. It helped that the decor was earthy and happy, a blend of soothing colors and comfy pillows. The chairs weren’t half bad either. The rest of the room was very modern: metal shelves, a glass top desk. There were also several modern art prints on the wall. The best feature had to be the large fish tank. We used to have fish at home but I’m horrible with pets and they all died. Claudia had a hamster---Mr. Pudge---but I never really cared for them. Claudia wanted to get a cat too until Mom told her it would probably try and eat the hamster.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“Hello MacKenzie,” said the doctor. “I’ll be right with you, I need to finish up this email.”
She was sitting at her desk, head buried in her computer.
I dropped into the large leather chair in front of her.
I was nervous today.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been nervous in her office.
Save maybe the first time.
I was a scared eleven-year-old back then. I just found out I was lied too by my parents and my whole life was a sham. I was sick of doctors at that point too. My first shrink---Dr. Paul---didn’t really work out so well. He was pretty old school in his way of thinking. He felt the best way for me to embrace my newfound girlhood was to be thrown right into it. He was pretty brutal about it. He told me I was lying to myself and that I was ridiculous to think I could still be a boy. Suffice to say, we only went to one session with him. The last I heard he wasn’t even practicing anymore. Well when you call one of your patients an “idiot”, it doesn’t really go over too well with their parents.
I was terrified Dr. Martin would be the same.
When I met her though, my fears evaporated.
She was a kind, caring woman. She didn’t call me an idiot and she told me that everything was going to be ok. That was the first thing she said to me, “everything is going to be ok”. It was too. Eventually. A small part of me envied that little eleven-year-old. Life had been more simple back then. My body was still changing and being a boy was much easier. Hiding my girlhood had been really easy. As I grew, it got harder and harder. It was so much work these days that more than once I questioned if it was even worth it.
The Doc finally looked up.
She shared Clara’s expression.
Dr. Martin was always a pretty stoic woman. Not that she was cold and emotionless, she just didn’t express herself much. Maybe a gentle smile or a warm squeeze of the hand. A professional. The type of professional behavior you expect from a middle-aged, successful psychiatrist. Not the type of look I currently saw her giving me.
Shock.
“MacKenzie,” she said surprised then quickly regained some composure before speaking again. “You look lovely.”
The way she said “lovely” though, I could read between the lines.
She was asking me if I thought I was “lovely” too.
With Dr. Martin, everything she said seemed to be a question even if she wasn’t asking one.
It was a Shrink thing.
“It was Mom’s idea.”
As soon as I said that, I saw her frown.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?”
So I did. I told her everything just like with Henry earlier. Unlike with Henry though, I told her how I felt about things. Every part of the story I inserted my feelings into the mix as well. Just like she wanted. It stopped her from asking me about them. The Doc played stoic again but I kept seeing the cracks in her armor whenever I mentioned my mother. To say my mother and Dr. Martin didn’t get along was an understatement. Both were professional when dealing with me but they had different opinions on how it should be handled. Mom was a person who liked things her way. She saw something and the way it should be, according to her. Dr. Martin was a different kind of person. She was of the opinion of allowing a person to decide what they wanted and if something was right, it should be because they thought it was so. Of course, the something I refer too is “Me”. I think if it was up to Mom, I would be her daughter 24/7. I am. Clothes don’t make the gender. Long hair and makeup don’t make the gender. I knew that so why couldn’t my mother.
And why was I so afraid to tell her that?
When I finished telling the Doc everything, she was frowning.
I sighed. “You’re angry.”
“I’m neither angry or happy,” she said, taking both sides. “I’m concerned.”
Dr. Martin was a pretty woman but not Mom pretty. Whereas Mom was a natural knock out, who stayed trim and fit to fight off the ravages of age, Dr. Martin was more practical. Still a healthy woman, she was an avid tennis player after all. There were quite a few trophies on her shelves. She was just the kind of woman who didn’t go out of her way to make herself look pretty. She wore her graying hair in a sensible bob, her glasses sensible, her suit crisp and neat. She wore minimum makeup and yet she was still very feminine as well. She was a different kind of woman from my mother. Why couldn't my mother let me be a different kind of woman too?
“You think I should have told her No?”
“What do you think?”
There she goes again. Typical Shrink Talk.
I shrugged. “I know I should and it's not like I don’t like this” I said, grabbing my hair. “It's just, she didn’t ask me if I wanted it. She wasn’t even willing to listen to my opinion on it, just like usual. She decided what was best for me and made me do it.”
Dr. Martin sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Your mother and I have talked about this at great length. She’s a complicated woman. I’m not really at liberty to discuss our private conversations but I will tell you this, she believes she’s doing the right thing for you.”
“You mean the right thing for her,” I said, getting angry.
"Is that how you truly feel?"
I shrugged.
“And what about the right thing for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you made a very interesting first step this week. It was a very brave thing to do. Just like you stepping in to help your friend but its only the first step. You need to ask yourself if it's the proper one to take, if you should take further ones or should you take a step back?”
“You think I’m moving too fast?”
“Do you?”
I shrugged again.
I looked around the room, looking for the mirror I knew was in the corner. She used to make me stand in front of that mirror when I was little. It was supposed to help my self-confidence. Back then I was too stubborn to even admit I was a girl. Even when I saw the evidence staring back at me in the mirror. So every session she would make me stand in front of the mirror, telling me what I saw. Not what I wanted to see but what I actually saw there. It wasn’t her forcing me to admit my gender, it was her helping me try to see what only I could see. It took some time but I finally started to see the girl. She was there, hiding in the boy I always thought I was. She’d always been there, waiting in the shadows. The boy was there too, just not physically. It was the way I stood and the way I acted. As the years went on and the image in the mirror started to change with me, the girl started to make herself known more and more.
The boy was fading.
Perhaps he was never there.
Dr. Martin followed my eyes. “You want to do the Mirror Exercise?”
She stood up, stepping around the desk. Sighing, I stood up too.
I followed her over to the mirror, the click of her heels leading the way.
It was one of those tall, full body mirrors. My mother kept trying to buy me one for my bedroom but I had no need for it.
I felt like an idiot.
“I’m too old for this,” I said with a laugh.
“No one is too old to look into a mirror,” she said with a laugh of her own.
I noticed with amusement that she herself was not, in fact, standing in front of the mirror with me.
Physician, Heal Thy Self.
“Now tell me,” she said after a moment. “What do you see?”
I rolled my eyes. “Me.”
I said it without even thinking about it. I mean what else were you supposed to see in the mirror other than yourself?
“Are you sure?”
I rolled my eyes again.
Ok, I’ll play her game.
The girl in the mirror was me. She had my face, my pale skin, my green eyes, my white blonde hair…Oh. I saw it. The hair wasn’t really mine was it? It was similar, had a similar hue but it was extensions now. It covered my shoulders, almost to the small of my back. A lot longer than I wanted. My eyes were still the same but my brows made them look different, bigger maybe? I absently reached up to touch my face, noticing how much a change the shaped brows made. When I did, I noticed my nails. There was a clear coat on them and they were oval shaped now, well manicured. I had a notorious habit of biting my nails. My mother hated it. The nails on my fingers were clean and cared for, no sign of my fidgety biting.
Lowering my hands, I noticed my clothes next.
I took off my hoodie, dropping it to the floor. As soon as I did, I saw something else. Whereas the shirt was fairly unisex, the jeans weren’t. I usually bought all my clothes in the Men’s department. My shirts were usually baggy, my pants sagged. They made me feel comfortable. Now though, I could see a shape. The shirt hugged my torso, accentuating my bust. It was still small but not as squashed. It was a shape I saw most girls have. Breasts. Mine were usually well hidden. Here they were now. Looking further down, I noticed hips too. Girlish ones, not hidden by baggy pants. On display for the world to see in pants that were form fitting and I’m ashamed to admit, very comfortable. I really wanted nothing to do with clothes like this. They were girl clothes. They were things I didn’t want to wear. Because they made me look like a….
I gasped.
“So now tell me what you see?”
“A girl,” I said softly.
She nodded. “The question you now need to ask yourself, is she the girl you want to be or do you think you can be the girl you were before?”
I didn’t know.
I told her as much.
“I’m not sure what I want" I confessed.
“That’s good, that’s progress. Before you were very adamant about being Ken, do you remember?”
Oh, I remembered.
“This is the reason I wanted you to try being a girl a little bit every summer, I wanted you to get a feel for it. It's not a scary thing. Neither is wanting to be a boy. You can be either or you can be neither. There are many different kinds of people in the world. The important thing is that you be yourself and not let anyone else tell you who you are.”
I laughed. “That’s what Henry said.”
“He’s a very smart man.”
I didn’t disagree.
“Now how about we go over to the couches and discuss some other things.”
I followed her over to the two couches in the other corner of the room. Like I said, it was a pretty spacious office. Together the two of us spent the rest of my hour session discussing different things. I won’t bore you with all the details but suffice to say I came to some conclusions of my own. One, I was getting my hair cut shorter. Two, I was going to shop for myself from now on. Three, I wasn’t going to let my mother dictate my life for me. Ok so three was probably going to take a while and a lot of courage but I hoped to get there eventually.
And four, I really needed to stop dodging Tess's calls.
When my hour was up, Dr. Martin followed me out into the waiting room.
“There is one more thing,” she said, her hand on the small of my back. “I want you to have fun this summer, Mac. Try new things, don’t stay cooped up in the house the whole time.”
“I think I can do that.”
She smiled. “Then you can come back here and tell me all about it. How about right before school in August?”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
She gave me a hug before asking for her next patient.
I watched a girl a little younger than me follow her into the office. She looked scared in her bright yellow summer dress. I gave her a gentle smile, she gave me a scared one. I watched her until the office door closed. Poor kid, I hope she’s ok.
Hell, I hoped I was going to be ok too.
“You all right?” asked Clara as she came up behind me.
I nodded. “Just realized some things.”
“Good session then?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“You, still want to have that talk, I’m about to go on break?”
I looked at her.
I really looked at her. She was happy. She was practically glowing. As much as I wanted to say yes I knew I couldn’t. I had some things I wanted to do today. Things I needed to do.
“Raincheck?”
“Sure.”
I wanted to feel that happy too.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note:Here's Ch.6. First off, Ch.7 is sadly unfinished. I got a little caught up in life the past few weeks and haven't had much time to write. I hope to have it finished for next week though. Ok now that that unpleasantness is out of the way, I can happily say that this is a chapter that everyone has been asking me for. I hope everyone enjoys it :).
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Ch.6
“More coffee, Miss.”
“No thanks, Lance.”
Shit. I responded without thinking.
Lance Burke gave me a look. He stared at me for a few seconds, probably trying to see if he knew me. Of course, he did, we had English together. I’m such an idiot. But I was distracted. After dodging her countless text messages, I finally agreed to meet with Tess. She picked the place. It was one of the many upscale coffee houses on the East Side. Apparently, it was a favorite spot of hers, I just never expected to run into anyone else I knew. Thankfully Lance was the only one and I had a quick way to rectify my screw up.
“Do I know you?” he asked with narrowed eyes.
I pointed to his shirt. “Your name tag”.
I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He looked down, chuckled then walked away embarrassed.
Sorry, Lance.
I watched him until he was back behind the counter then I let out the breath I’d been holding. I was nervous enough as it was. Every person who walked by made me jump and every time the door opened, let’s just say I might need anti-anxiety medication when this is all over. I’m still not sure why I decided to do it. Maybe it was because I was tired of leading her on or , it was because I didn’t like lying to her. Maybe it was about me too. I was tired of lying and needed to tell someone the truth.
Tess was the best person I could think of.
After leaving Dr. Martin’s office yesterday, I did a lot of things.
Chief among them was thinking.
What she said and seeing Clara happy made me think about making my life happy too. It was strange because I never realized how miserable I’d been. It was the little things. Not having any real friends, lying to the ones I might consider friends. Lying at all actually. It was getting harder. Not the putting on boy clothes and hiding my body, that part was easy. It was getting harder waking up every morning, looking in the mirror and seeing the truth. Then lying to myself to make me feel better. The thing was, it wasn’t making me feel better. I was actually happier when I was not pretending.
Teaching my students, running in the park, hanging out with my little sister. Those were things I could do as me. The things at school, those things were weighing heavily on me. I think its the reason why I ultimately refused the summer internship. I would have loved to do it but I would have been miserable too. They were expecting Ken, a boy, who I was actually miserable being.
Being a boy made me hate life.
Dr. Martin had been right. I need to find myself.
The first step had to be to go through with my plan. This summer, Ken had to go away completely. If I wanted to truly be happy, I needed to be MacKenzie and only MacKenzie. That meant no more hiding. I needed to confess to the world. Ok so maybe not the world. One step at a time. Tess first. If she reacted in a good way then I’d decide what to do going forward.
The door chimed again.
My heart skipped a beat as I looked.
I sighed.
Another false alarm.
The couple who walked through the door meandered over to one of the empty tables near the window. I avoided picking one of those. I was still a little self-conscious about the way I looked. I wasn’t used to being out in public as a girl. My hoodie was off, I was wearing one of my new tees and a pair of jeans like yesterday. It felt weird. It also felt strangely liberating too. I actually smiled at myself in the mirror this morning as I brushed my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. It helped that I went back to the salon yesterday too. I got squeezed in between appointments. I also managed to get the dumb girl who put my extensions in the other day.
I wanted to get them completely removed but she talked me out of it.
So we cut them instead. To just above my shoulders. Much better than the mid-back cut my mother had forced on me earlier in the week. It made me feel more like myself when I looked in the mirror too. That was the important part. This was all about me, a journey to be the person I want to be. Take that George Lucas.
“Ummm”.
Shit, the Return of the Lance.
I turned, looking up from the coffee I was still nursing.
I was too nervous to drink.
“I do know you, you're MacKenzie right?” he said, looking sheepish.
Shit.
Wow, someone who actually knows my real name. Color me surprised and slightly impressed.
"Its Mac actually."
Double Shit.
Why did I tell him that?
“You’re in my English class right?”
Triple Shit.
So, truth or lie time.
To hell with it.
“Oh right,” I said, pretending to act embarrassed. “as soon as I said your name I thought I recognized you but I wasn’t sure. So how’s your summer been so far?”
“Work”.
That must suck.
“I’m on vacation from my family.”
“How does that work?”
I shrugged. “They went away, I stayed home.”
We shared a laugh. It was strange really. I knew Lance, if only in passing. He was one of those AV kids but not a nerd. I don’t think that term really existed in high school anymore. I mean in order to stay on sports teams, jocks had to be smart too. So calling a smart person a “nerd” or a “geek” just didn’t really apply anymore. Lance was one of the smarter ones though. Top of our class or close to it. He was pretty popular too. He had a lot of friends, was part of quite a few social circles. He also had his camera. He never went anywhere without it. Usually one of the AV kids got to follow the Seniors around for a year, documenting them.
This year that kid was Lance.
“So how’d the video go?”
He looked surprised and brightened when he spoke: “Really good. It was a pretty big hit at graduation.”
Graduation was held on the Saturday after school let out.
Then prom fell on that Sunday.
The last two school functions that the Seniors had to participate in.
Something to look forward to next year that’s for sure.
“Hey, Lance!” shouted someone from behind us. “Stop flirting and get back to work!”
We both blushed.
Lance apologized and disappeared again.
Thank God.
Not that he was a bad person, I just wasn’t used to the attention.
I was a bit scared of it too.
To say Lance surprised me was an understatement. I’d been in the same school with him for three years now. We didn’t move in the same social circles but we had classes together. We flitted about one another all the time. It was hard not to run into him, what with him being everywhere with that camera. The strange thing was, he never really seemed to bother with me before. Yet, here he was talking to me out of the blue like that? It made no sense and it confused the hell out of me.
Did he suspect?
Was that why he was talking to me? Was he going to go blabbing to all his friends now?
When school started was everyone going to be laughing at me?
I felt sick to my stomach.
I could feel the bile rising up my throat. Snapping around, I spotted two ways to go. Running outside and puking on the sidewalk was disgusting so I jumped to my feet and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Thankfully no one was there to witness my embarrassment. I charged headfirst into one of the stalls but by the time I got there, the nauseous feeling was gone. I did dry heave over the bowl a few times though. I felt like kicking myself for being such an idiot. Damn it. I was overreacting. Lance was a decent guy and I think he thought I was a girl. Hell, I am a girl. I was just being paranoid too. Call it nerves. Today was a pretty nerve-wracking day for me after all. I mean it's not every day that you expose your biggest secret to someone. Someone who could make your life a living hell if she wanted. I mean I was about to put it all on the line here. Tess seemed like a pretty nice person but for all I know she could be a vicious bitch too.
Shit.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, which is not the smartest thing to do with your head this close to a toilet bowl. Cursing and nearly gagging, I quickly left the stall. I took another moment, another short breath before wandering over to the sink. I looked in the mirror as I washed my hands. The girl staring back at me was a wreck. Her hair was a mess, there were bags under her eyes from a restless sleep the night before and her lip gloss was smeared. Yes, lip gloss. I thought it would sell the whole girl thing. Now that I looked I felt ridiculous. I felt like a joke too. Or like I was pretending to be a girl?
I groaned.
What the hell was wrong with me?
First, I’m pretending to be a boy.
Now its a girl?
I need to make up my damn mind.
I shut off the water and started to step away from the mirror when I changed my mind. Turning on the sink again, I vigorously started scrubbing the lip gloss off my lips. I can be a girl without it. Satisfied I smiled only to groan at my hair. Thankfully Mom bought me some hair ties the other day. Those little elastic things. I never thought I would need them until now. It was a good thing I grabbed a few just in case. Pulling my hair back, I made a nice, tight ponytail. With the shorter hair, it looked pretty gender neutral. I still looked like mess but now I at least looked like a presentable mess.
Finally satisfied, I left the bathroom.
I paused a foot from the door.
Tess was finally here.
She was sitting at one of the tables near the window, looking around. She was dressed to impress---a ruffled flower skirt, airy summer blouse and open toe heeled sandals. Hey, I might not like girly clothes but I know them all pretty well. Its one of the disadvantages of having an ex-supermodel for a mother. You could almost say that fashion is in my blood, whether I liked it or not. It also didn’t help that said mother was constantly trying to shove said fashion in your face. Not that she was trying to force me to dress like Tess but she would buy outfits like that for Claudia then stress how it might be fun to have both her daughters dress that way. She tried to guilt me into it but it never worked.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly started making my way over.
All last night I thought of several ways to tell her.
Some more disastrous than others.
In the end, I decided with something simple.
“Hey,” I said, stopping at the table.
Tess wasn’t looking at me at first but as soon as she turned to look, she smiled. It wasn’t one of recognition, more like one you gave someone to be polite. She didn’t recognize me. I think it was the hair. It was also probably the fact that she never saw me with my hood down. I made certain to keep it up in school whenever I could. Our school didn’t really have any strict dress code policies they enforced. Hoodies and hats were ok as long as they didn’t have any drug paraphernalia on them. Tess and I had very few classes together and whenever I saw her at my locker, my hood was always up.
“Tess, it's me.”
She stared, her eyes narrowed as to give me a better look.
Then I saw it.
Recognition.
“Kenny?”
I nodded. “Can I sit?”
She gave me a slow but confused nod.
I sat in the chair opposite her.
She leaned in close and whispered. “What’s going on? Why are you dressed like a girl?”
Dressed like that?
I looked down and sighed. I forgot I was wearing this.
I’d been wearing the same clothes and hoodie for as long as I could remember. The hoodie my most prized possession. It was one of the only things I had from my father, my real father. He left it behind apparently. Mom had wanted to throw it out shortly after but when I found it, I wouldn’t let her. Jax enforced my need to keep it. When I was little, I used to wear it around the house all the time. Back then it had been too big. It was still slightly too big for me. It was also pretty worn and ratty now. It might sound silly but when a ratty football hoodie was the only thing that connected you to a man you never knew, it was the most precious thing in the world to you.
Mom got me more hoodies though.
They weren’t bad and they fit a lot better but they were definitely designed for girls.
I was wearing one now.
I was also wearing a pair of my newer, more form-fitting jeans.
Looking at me, there was no way to deny I was a girl.
I bit my lip and answered softly. “Because I am a girl.”
Tess gasped. “You mean you’re one of those transgender people?”
I sighed and shook my head.
That would have been easier.
“No” I said slowly. “I wasn’t born a boy, thinking I was in the wrong body.”
Now she was confused.
I was about to say more when Lance appeared.
Great.
“Hey guys,” he said, cheery. “You ready to order now, Tess?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato.”
Ugh, she was one of those girls.
Lance scribbled it on his pad and turned to me. “You ok, Mac? You rushed off so quick...”
Concern, actual concern.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping it was enough to get rid of him.
Lance nodded and took the hint, leaving us along again.
“Who’s Mac?” asked Tess.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m Mac. You know short for MacKenzie.”
I was right. She really did think my name was Ken or Kenny.
Tess was still confused. “Then who’s Ken?”
“I’m Ken too.”
“I’m confused.”
And I wanted to drown myself in the largest cup of coffee in the world. This conversation was not going at all the way I planned.
“Ken is short for MacKenzie,” I said, hoping to clarify. “Just like Mac or Mackie or Kenzie.”
Wow, I never really realized how many ways I could shorten my own name.
Weird.
“And you’re not a boy?”
“Right.”
Then I saw it, the look of hurt in her eyes. The last thing I wanted to see. I considered her a friend, well at least I hoped I did. I also hoped she might consider me one too. Now that I saw that look though, I knew that hope was impossible.
She stood up. “I think I should go.”
Shit.
She started to leave before I could stop her.
Double shit.
Tess was fast, faster than I gave her credit for. She was out the door before I could even push my chair in. She was already hailing a cab too. Damn it. I rushed toward the door, hoping to catch her. When I got outside, she was crying. I made her cry. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do.
“Tess wait.”
She turned to me, tears flowing freely. “Was this some kind of sick game to you. Get the cheerleader to fall in love with the lesbo.”
She thinks I’m gay?
“What no!” I said defensively. “If you give me a chance, I’ll explain everything.”
A cab pulled up to curb.
Tess glared. “Well, I’m waiting.”
“Not here” I said, grabbing her arm gently.
We were too exposed out here on the street. I didn’t want to tell the whole city my secret after all.
“We’ll go to my place,” I said quickly, steering her toward the yellow car.
She didn’t protest.
I opened the door for her and we both clamored inside. I rattled off the directions to the driver and sat quietly next to my “date”.
Well, this could have been better.
With traffic, the ride from the coffee bistro to home took the better part of twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of total silence. At least Tess had stopped crying. I’m not sure I enjoyed what it was replaced with though. She sat the whole time with her arms crossed, looking out the window. I guess I deserved that much. Here she thought she was going on a date with a boy she liked and now, well now I’m not sure what she thought. I tried talking to her but she wouldn’t even look at me. I deserved that too. I should have been honest with her from the beginning. Sure I didn’t owe it to her but it was the right thing to do.
“Here you are ladies,” said the driver as the cab stopped.
Tess finally spoke. “You live here?”
Was she disgusted or surprised?
Like I said before, the neighborhood needed some work. It wasn’t a bad place to live but it was a place that most people wouldn’t have suspected. We were a mixed race family after all. To be brutally honest, Mom and I were probably the only white people on the whole block. Most of the neighbors didn’t care. I say most because there were a few who caused problems from time to time. Usually, I just kept my head low and avoided them. I was friendly when I needed to be and for the most part, they let us be.
A place like this to Tess though, I couldn’t really read her.
We got out of the cab, I paid the driver and turned toward her. She wrinkled her nose, pretending to smell a smell that wasn’t there. I’ll admit it, she was a snob. I knew that before. The way she dressed, who she dated. The fact that she showed any interest in the pretend me was surprising. Tess’s parents were lawyers, they lived in the richer part of town. Coming here probably felt like slumming to her. She was a mystery though too. So was Brian in that respect. They were both very well off and yet they chose to go to a public school like me? It was surprising, to say the least. Mind you, it was a more upscale public high school but it wasn’t private. They weren’t the only wealthy students there either. I knew why I went there but I was confused as to why she did.
I started toward our building, Tess at my heels.
“This is your apartment?”
She looked around, probably expecting to get mugged.
Her bag was worth more than quite a few paychecks around here.
I rolled my eyes. “Not my apartment, my house.”
She nodded, probably thinking she offended,me.
I approached the door, typing in the code.
“You don’t buzz in?” she asked, shocked.
,I laughed. “Don’t need too, we own the building."
That surprised her.
Good.
“Wait, what?” she asked as I opened the door.
We stepped into the foyer and her jaw actually dropped. It was pretty comical.
The outside of the building didn’t compare to the inside.
It was like the TARDIS.
Except it was fancier on the inside than the out.
Tess was looking around in awe. “Your mother teaches kindergarten right?”
I nodded. “And my stepfather owns a gym”.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Tess’s mind was blown. Good. She needed to learn a little humility. Maybe then she wouldn’t judge things based on how they look. Like me. Like my neighborhood. Like my house.
“No offense but how in the hell can your family afford this!”
I laughed but didn’t say a thing.
Instead I led her toward the stairs. Tess let some of the tension leave her body as she followed. We slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor. She kept looking around, her eyes getting bigger and bigger. I guess I never realized how odd things appeared. I didn’t have many guests after all. On the outside the house looked one way, on the inside another. Like I said before my parents didn’t flaunt it but it's not like we lived like paupers either. We had a lot of stuff. State of the art appliances, nice furniture, some fancy reprints on the walls. The kind of things one might suspect in a fancy Upper East side loft. Not the kind of things you would expect to find here.
“You want a drink?” I asked, wandering into the kitchen.
Tess shook her head but followed. She sat down on one of tall, island stools.
“You’re rich?”
I sighed. I took a can of Sprite out of the fridge and popped it before speaking. “Is that all people think about? Money?”
“Sorry,” she said and actually sounded like meant it. “Its just...well...you don’t seem like Brian that’s all.”
I laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment and you’re right, I’m not like Brian” I waved my hand over my body. “He’s a guy, I’m not.”
Tess was scrutinizing me with her eyes again. “You said you were going to explain that.”
I nodded. I took a sip before I began. I told her everything. It didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it might but I didn’t leave anything out. I never really thought about how easy it was to sum up my life. I also couldn’t help but think how strange it all seemed. It was no wonder she was so reluctant to believe me or that she was angry. Suddenly pretending to be a boy felt like lying about being a boy. The hate and tears she showed before, I was starting to feel them as I spoke. What the hell kind of person am I? Shit. I was horrible. I kept the lie going and not for other people but for myself.
When I finished, Tess was silent.
Then she stood up. I flinched, ready for the slap I knew was coming. Instead, she hugged me. I flinched but not for a bad reason. I never expected a reaction like that. I was hoping she would understand, that she might be able to at least forgive me. I never actually suspected she would hug me, that she might be showing sympathy for me? In one quick moment, the shallow and snobbish Tess was gone, replaced by this compassionate and caring one? The thing was, I couldn’t tell which one was real and which was the lie?
“You are the bravest person I’ve ever known.”
What?!?
She broke the hug then crossed her arms.
“I’m still mad at you for lying though” she said, then giggled. “And I should have known you know.”
“Known what?”
She was still giggling. ‘I tried to get Brian to listen to Tara with me. He said it was chick music. For a while I thought you were gay...”
“Boys listen to Tara!’ I said, defensively.
I’m not sure why I was being so defensive about it though. I was, after all, not a boy.
Then I laughed too.
Tess gave me a look. “Oh wow, a girl’s laugh and that voice!”
Shit.
I’d been speaking normally to her without realizing it.
I stuck my tongue out at her.
She dropped back down on the stool. “So this whole time you’ve been pretending to be a boy?’ I nodded, she sighed. “Since you were eleven years old, all this time?”
I shrugged. “Not the whole time. During vacations, I promised my mother I would be a girl. Its just in school, it felt weird. I’ve been a boy all my life. I just didn’t want to show up one day wearing a school girl outfit and cause a riot.”
Mom’s school---the one I went to in elementary and middle school---had uniforms. The boys were pretty ordinary, pants, white long sleeve shirts, blazers. The girls wore the blazers too but they had skirts as well with knee-high socks and buckle shoes. I didn’t want to go one day dressed like a boy then return a few days later, wearing a skirt. It scared me. Not just because I thought kids were going to pick on me or try to kick my ass. No, it was more because it was something final. At the time I wasn’t ready to accept the truth and I think I carried that with me throughout my school career.
“I just thought I needed to be who everyone thought I was.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way but that’s just plain stupid.”
“What?”
She continued. “Who cares what others think? Everyone is different, its what makes people unique. Be who you want to be not who you think people want you to be. You want to be a boy, be a boy. You want to be a girl, be a girl. Don’t let society tell you who you are!”
Wow.
I never thought I’d hear Tess say something like that.
After her rousing declaration, Tess fell silent. We both did. The awkwardness set in, neither one of us sure what to say or do. I hadn’t really planned things out beyond this point to be honest. I told her the truth and honestly, I expected her to leave. I never expected her to be cool with it. I didn’t really know how to hang out with people. The last time I had any friends over was about seven years ago. We usually went to my room to play video games or watched TV. Things most boys did. I never had any girl friends. I didn’t even know what girls did with one another when they hung out.
“So what does your Dad think about all this?” she asked after several moments of silence.
That was a weird question.
“Jax is pretty cool about it actually.”
She gave me a look. “Not Jax, your other father.”
My other...Oh.
“I don’t know, I’ve never met him.”
I think it sounded sadder than it should have because the next thing I knew she was hugging me again.
“That sucks” she said when she pulled away, teary-eyed. “And I know the feeling.”
‘You never met your dad either?”
She wiped her eyes. “He’s gone, died before I was born. My parents met in Korea, Dad was stationed there. He died in a training exercise, there was a malfunction and the helicopter went down, everyone on board was KIA. Mom tried coping but it wasn’t easy. Dad’s sister---my aunt Julie---stepped in. She brought me to the US, adopted me shortly afterward.”
She started crying. This time I found myself hugging her. She cried for a bit and I did my best to comfort her. It was weird. I’d never comforted anyone like this before, it was nice.
She finally stopped crying, wiping her eyes again. “It wasn’t all bad though. Mom and I talk now, almost every day. She lives not too far away actually. She had some family here in the states. We have a good relationship. I love her just as much as I do my parents and my sisters. I love my father too but I would give anything to be held in the arms of my real father, just once.”
I started to tear up.
Shit.
Now she was hugging me.
What a pair we were.
When I was done with my crying, Tess had a look. She bit her lip, clearly contemplating something. When she spoke, I knew she was up to something. “You should find him!”
“What?”
“Your father,” she said excitedly. “I mean if my father was alive, I’d give anything to be able to see him. You should go look for your dad!”
"I don’t think that’s such a good...”
"Hear me out,” she said, interrupting me. “I know this may sound pushy of me and if I overstep, slap me. The thing is, you have a chance. You said so yourself, this summer is all about exploring and trying to find yourself. You’re closing a chapter in your life right?”
I couldn’t disagree so I nodded.
"Well, your Dad is part of that right?”
Shit.
I bit my lip this time. “I don’t know where he is. Hell I don’t even know who he is!”
Tess looked surprised. So I quickly filled her in on my sordid birth and all that. I left out the part about Mom’s past. I respected my mother’s privacy enough not to let that secret slip.
"That’s perfect!” she said, excitedly.
"What is?”
I was confused.
“We know where to look first!”
Huh.
She saw the dumb look I was giving and sighed. “You’re hopeless. Did your mother have a boyfriend at the time?”
Shit.
Well, she was Caroline Russel. She probably had a lot.
Though now that I thought about it….damn I was an idiot. I’d always wondered about my father for years. I kept asking and Mom refused to say. How was it that I never thought to check if she had any boyfriends back then? Tess was a damn genius. It was almost as if Fate itself put her in my life, maybe for this very reason. Ok so maybe I’m over thinking that bit but without her, I never would have thought of that. Without her, I never would have even thought about Dad. I mean sure I thought about him, probably every day. Hell, I wore his damn hoodie. It was just a thing though. Something of his that I had. Like an old sentimental keepsake of a person long gone. The thing was, Dad was out there somewhere. At least in theory. I mean I could be getting my hopes up for nothing though too. Could I end up with a tragic situation just like Tess?
The thing was, though, if I didn’t look, I’d never know.
“Let’s do it!”
“Seriously?”
I nodded, Tess squealed, jumping up and down like an idiot. She grabbed my hands, trying to pull me into her excitement. I didn’t squeal but I found myself bouncing around like an idiot too. What can I say, it was strangely contagious.
When we were finally done being morons, Tess put on her serious face.
“Ok so where do we start looking?”
“Not here,” I said with a sigh.
Mom wasn’t the type to keep things like that. She wasn’t exactly sentimental, especially about that time in her life. Sure she kept her old modeling portfolios but everything else from that life was long gone. After my kidnapping and the media frenzy that followed, Mom was done for good. She burned all her bridges, figuratively and literally. Scrapbooks, old pictures, clothes...all of it went into the fireplace. Anything that was Caroline Russel went up in smoke. I’m not sure why she kept Dad’s hoodie to be honest. A small part of me hoped and wished it was because she truly loved him?
“Your mother doesn’t have any old pictures?”
I shook my head. “She burned everything!”
“Why?”
Shit.
I’m sorry Mom but I have no choice.
I grabbed Tess’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “What I’m about to tell you must stay between us, do you promise?”
She nodded.
“Say it!”
She gave me a strange look but nodded again. “I promise!”
Shit.
“I know where we might be able to find pics of my Mom” I sighed as I said it. “Everyone does. You see Mom is a bit famous.”
Tess’s eyes got big. She opened her mouth then closed it. Then she squinted, studying me. She looked around the room. There was a family photo on the fireplace mantle. Tess wandered over, getting close to scrutinize my mother. She stared for a long time. I watched and waited. When she finally turned around, I saw the smile. I think it took her a few minutes to process it but now I knew.
She figured out who Mom was.
It was hard not too.
Though it had been nearly twenty years, Mom hadn’t changed all that much.
Tess gave me an open mouth look.
“Your mother is Caroline Russell!" she said it softly but stared from me to the pic then back again.
“You promised not to say anything, remember!”
Tess stared at me again, the wheels in her head turning. “If she’s Caroline then that makes you….OMG, you’re Baby M!!!”
There it was.
My dreaded past.
Like the Lindbergh Baby before me, I was a bit notorious. My mother had been lucky though, she got me back. That didn’t stop the media from their circus though. I was quickly labeled Baby M. They all knew my name of course but that’s about all they really knew. After I was born, Mom fell off the radar. She kept herself fairly private. Then she disappeared altogether. She and I became a bit of a weird Urban Legend together. I’d seen the posts on social media and the numerous websites. Everyone always wanted to know what happened to Caroline Russell and her famous Baby M.
Now Tess knew the truth.
She was sitting on a literal gold mine.
“Tess” I said, tearing up again. “You can’t tell anyone, please!”
She was, hugging me again.
“Your secret is safe with me, I swear.”
She held me for a while but when I was done crying, Tess was smiling again.
“This is perfect though” she said, pulling out her phone. “Your Mom was very super famous. Her face was literally everywhere!”
She was furiously typing away.
“She was seen with a lot of guys” Tess continued.
“Don’t remind me' I said with a groan.
"One more than others though,” she said with a final smile as she stopped typing.
She turned her phone to face me.
I saw a pic of Mom from back in the day. She was still as beautiful as ever. She was laughing and smiling. She still did that but she looked really happy in that pic. I turned away from her for a second to look at the guy she was with. He was tall and handsome.
More importantly he was blonde.
Oh shit.
“Who, is he?”
Tess turned her phone back around. She started typing again but only for a second. She turned it around to face me again. The man in the previous pic was there again but older. He was wearing a very sharp and expensive business suit now. He was also in a fancy looking board room. It was a publicity photo of some sort. My attention stayed on him for a moment than on the large logo behind him: a W surrounded by a circle. I knew that logo, it was everywhere these days.
Only an idiot wouldn’t know it.
Wellington.
“This my dear girl,” she said with some satisfaction. “Is the Patrick Wellington, CEO and billionaire owner of Wellington Pharmaceutical.”
Son of a bitch.
“Mom dated him!”
Tess nodded. “According to Google, for quite a while. They broke up about...well right before you were born. There are some internet theories, the dates actually add up….”
She was still talking but I tuned her out.
The dates added up.
Shit.
Could this Patrick guy be my father???
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.
Author's Note: Ch.7, one more chapter in Mac's summer vacation adventure. I feel like this is where the story truly begins even though its probably at its halfway point now. I feel I dragged my feet a bit getting here. When I started this story, I knew what I wanted. The chapters leading up to this one were necessary but I think I took a bit longer getting here then I wanted lol. I've been criticized about it in the past and am trying to do better.
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7.
“I’m sorry Mr. Wellington isn’t available right now,” said the annoyingly polite woman on the phone. “I might be able to pencil you in for an interview in four months.”
Four months?
I sighed but didn’t let her hear it. Instead, I pretended to be polite too. “No, that’s all right, my project needs to be done before September. I guess I’m just going to have to find someone else.”
She thanked me for my interest in Wellington, tried offering me their typical student package. Something they apparently gave people like me doing a “school project”. I declined and hung up. Then cursed. The school project angle was Tess’s idea. It had been a pretty good one in theory. It's not like one could call up a place and say “Hey I think Mr. Wellington might be my father, do you think I can talk to him please?”. Defeated, I grunted and tossed my cell on the bed. It was another brick wall. It was also my third strike.
The first strike happened two days ago.
Tess and I tried the direct approach. We took a cab out to Wellington. We managed to get through the front door but not much further. The woman at the front desk had not been so polite in person as she had been on the phone a few minutes ago. Tess tried to press the issue. When the bitch threatened to call security on us, we bolted. I mean who the hell threatens high school students doing a project? Defeated, we headed back to my place then Tess tried calling. She pretended to be one those business magazines, looking to do an interview. It almost worked until the receptionist wanted to call the magazine to confirm a time with her editor. Tess panicked and hung up.
This whole thing was turning into a real comedy of errors.
Flopping back onto my bed, I stared at the ceiling.
It was strange to think that I might be this close to meeting my actual father. It was stranger still that he’d been in this city the whole time and I never knew. It was mind-blowing that he and I had a lot of things in common. He was blonde, he had green eyes, was left handed. I spent the whole rest of the night after Tess and I found him, looking him up on the internet. He and my mother dated for about five months. They were a pretty active celebrity couple for a while. Several news outlets thought they were going to get married. Back then there was no social media to muddle things up. Facebook wasn’t a thing yet and most of the celeb gossip was found in tabloids. Sadly their relationship sizzled right before Mom announced she was pregnant.
I couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of it?
I mean they were both pretty young at the time.
Patrick was still in college, Mom was still a model.
I could only imagine what kind of scandal it might have caused.
Patrick disappeared from the media spotlight after that. He resurfaced about ten years ago when he took over Wellington Pharmaceutical from his ailing father. By then he was a family man. He had a wife and a son my age. She was pretty enough I suppose, not quite up to my mother’s beauty though. I knew of his son too. Jason Wellington was pretty popular on social media these days. Not exactly as notorious as the Hilton sisters in their day but still pretty well known on the club scene. The fact that he was underage though, it was all pretty scandalous.
Patrick became CEO of the company only a year or so ago.
I remember reading about it.
The ringing of my cell distracted my thoughts. I absently reached over and answered it. I didn’t have to look to see who it was. The only people who had my number were my family and Tess. I’d already spoken to Mom this morning. She called every morning since they left and at least two more times during the day. I think she just wanted to make sure I wasn’t burning the place down or something.
“So how did it go?”
I made an annoying buzzer sound.
“That bad huh?”
“At least she was polite about it,” I said with a heavy sigh.
“Don’t give up yet, girl, we’ve got this!”
A few days ago, I would have flinched at being called “girl”. Maybe it was because I was spending so much time talking to her now or maybe it was because I was just starting to accept it? Ever since telling her my secret, Tess and I talked on the phone for hours. She also kept trying to drag me out to go shopping with her. It was all kind of weird though. I told her as much. I mean she had friends, lots of friends. When I told her that, she just scoffed it away and told me I should hang with them too. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Partially because all things ultra feminine kinda scared me but mostly because I didn’t want everyone in the school to know my true gender. I had no problem with Tess knowing but I couldn’t handle it if others found out.
I was already petrified that Lance knew.
I was paranoid about it too.
I kept checking Facebook to see if he blabbed. He didn’t. In fact, he barely had a social media presence. I think Lance was one of the very few teenagers who didn’t. I guess he was too busy filming people.
“So then, what’s our next step?”
“Well we tried the direct approach.”
“And that failed” I added.
She laughed. “So we take the non-direct one.”
“Which is?”
“I’m sending you a car,” she said, I could sense the mischief in her voice. “You and I need to step up our A Game.”
I groaned. I’m not sure I was going to like this.
“Stop fidgeting!”
“Stop trying to poke me in the eye then!”
“I would if you stopped fidgeting!”
Tess stopped trying to apply my eyeliner, long enough to scold me.
I’m not even sure how I let her talk me into this.
When she said we needed to “step up our A Game”, I thought she meant trying a different approach. I was half right but I never expected her different approach to entail this. Tess’s plan was simple. She did a little internet browsing. From various tweets, she discovered that every day---like clockwork---Patrick Wellington had lunch at a tiny bistro on the east side of the city.
So what did that have to do with me wearing eyeliner?
Simple.
The place was pretty upscale.
According to Tess, I never would be able to get through the door looking like a “bum”. Her words, not mine. So after getting off the phone with her earlier, she sent a car. Not a taxi either, an actual rental service car. Color me surprised. It took me directly to her upscale luxury apartment. It was all pretty fancy and modern looking but I’ll be honest, it didn’t really hold a candle to our place. Not that I’m bragging or anything but we did own the whole building. Her place was still nice though and large. I couldn’t believe how spacious it was. As soon as I arrived, she ushered me into her overly girly room and got to work.
De-bumifying me.
Her word.
“I swear, its like you’ve never worn makeup before.”
I didn’t say anything.
My silence spoke for me.
“Oh My God, you haven’t!”
That wasn’t totally a lie. I mean, this isn’t the first time someone has tried to shanghai me into it. Like Mom, Tess seemed to think there was only one kind of girl. Unlike Mom though, Tess wasn’t trying to force me into it. There were different kinds of girls out there after all. All kinds. I was just going to be the one who felt she didn’t need to wear makeup to breathe right. I was happy being the natural looking tomboyish girl.
I told Tess as much.
“Look, I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do but every once in a while, even the Tomboy wants to look pretty.”
I didn’t have an answer for that.
Sighing, I admitted my defeat.
Tess continued her work. She told me what she was doing every step of the way. From the eyeshadow and eyeliner and everything in-between. She said she wanted to make me feel comfortable and didn’t want to do anything that was too over the top. It took longer than I thought. Apparently being beautiful is a long and arduous process. When she was finally done, I was stunned. The girl in the mirror was so far from me it was scary. Not a bad scary either. It was like waking up for the first time and seeing a sunset. Its something so serene and indescribable that all you could do was gap and stare and smile.
“I take it that’s a good thing then?”
She was Me.
I was Her.
I didn’t respond to Tess, instead, I leaned forward to get a better look. There was color on my cheeks, my lips were shiny and looked moist. Kissable even. My eyes though, they popped. I’m not really sure what she did to make them look like but I was in love. My lashes looked longer and the dark liner combined with the lightest bit of purple shadow. I was mesmerized.
“I could leave you alone with the mirror for a little longer but time is a factor here.”
She giggled.
She then grabbed my hand and gently pulled me away.
After the fabulous makeup job, I trusted her completely. On the ride over, she texted me about my measurements. The only reason I remembered them was because of the shopping trips with Mom over the last week or so. When I arrived there were already a few shopping bags in her room. I recognized the logo. I also saw the Forever21 on the way there. It was practically around the corner from her. She must have done some quick shopping while I was on my way.
“I respected your no skirt rule,” she said as she gently sat me on the bed.
Then the Dressing Began.
Tess had good taste.
She also listened to what I wanted.
Not like at all like my mother.
In the end, we decided on something pretty simple: a pair of white shorts, an off the shoulder light blue peasant top and a pair of wedged sandals. The shorts were a bit tighter than I wanted and I had to swap my usual boy cuts for something a little more practical but other than that, I liked them. They weren’t constricting toward my condition either. Most of the time I couldn’t wear tight things because of how it looked down there. These shorts were very flattering though.
“Wear this belt and this,” she said, handing me a belt and what looked like a necklace.
I put the belt on without question but the necklace, it was a little girly for me.
I didn’t dislike jewelry---I had a nose piercing after all---it was just something I didn’t go out of my way to wear. Partially because I spent most of my time in guy mode but also because my mother liked to go overboard with that too. I had a large collection of expensive and unworn jewelry back at home. My mother had a bit of a Shopaholic problem. It wasn’t just the clothes either. She went crazy for the accessories too. Whenever she saw something she just “loved” she had to have it for me. It made me feel like her real-life Barbie Doll sometimes. I knew she meant well in her own way but it pissed me off that she didn’t think I could dress myself.
“You sure about this?” I asked, still holding the necklace.
It was a covered in little flowers, definitely not me.
“It goes with the top!”
Tess was way too enthusiastic about it.
Groaning, I put it on.
“It has some matching earrings too!”
“No,” I said, pushing her hands down as she showed me them. I sighed. “I appreciate it but I’m not your doll.”
There I said it.
Now if I could only say it to Mom.
Tess frowned but nodded.
“Sorry, I get a little carried away some times” She took a deep breath. “I’m used to having willing victims.”
She did her best impression of a Mad Scientist laugh.
I smirked.
Then I sat on the edge of her bed to put on the sandals. They added an inch or two to my height. When I stood up, Tess made a disgusted noise.
I rolled my eyes.
“I hate you!” she said, staring up at me. “Tall, beautiful and thin.”
I strutted the room a bit, getting a feel for the difference. I’d worn heels before. Walking in them was easy. These sandals weren’t all that different. I just didn’t wear heels often because I hated feeling taller than I already was. Whereas most people had no problem being tall, as a girl who was five ten, a few added inches really made you stand out. I felt like a freak sometimes. I also hated the attention. Last summer on vacation, Mom wanted me to try wearing heels to dinner and the whole time everyone kept staring at me. I wanted to crawl back into our cabin and never come out. After dinner, I actually threw the damn things overboard when she wasn’t looking.
“I feel like a freak in these.”
“Trust me, honey, there is nothing freakish about you.”
We shared a laugh.
Tess scrutinized me a bit after that. She walked around me then made me twirl like an idiot.
“You need a bag!” she exclaimed a minute or so later.
She quickly started rummaging in her closet.
She had one of those massive walk-ins you would expect a girl like her to have. Just peeking inside, I could see loads of clothes. More than I’d ever seen in my life. Not just clothes either but shoes and everything else in-between. I wandered away and started glancing around her room, trying to preoccupy myself for a minute or two as she looked for the perfect bag for me. Like I said, she had an overly girly room. Light pink decor, a large queen size bed, tasteful bedding, lots of pillows. Her shelves were littered with cheer and scholastic trophies, her walls decorated with framed awards and posters of cute boys. I noticed quite a few famous male celebs, including current It Boy, Gavin Reese.
“Got it!”
She came out of the closet, literally, carrying a little white clutch.
“This is totes, you girl!”
I rolled my eyes.
Help me now.
The upscale bistro was a few blocks from Tess’s. I tried to talk her into walking but she insisted on ordering another car. It was clear to me that she was a pretty lazy girl. As much time as I spent taking taxis or on the bus, I spent more time walking. Especially if my destination wasn’t too far from home. I liked walking the city, seeing the sights. In a city this large, there was always something new and exciting to see. I was also a pretty active person. Tess it would seem, was like most. It didn’t matter if she could walk there or not, she just threw money at it and cheapened the experience.
Pulling up in front of the place, I sighed.
It was one of those places.
Tinted windows with drawn curtains, little tables out front that no one used. The bistro's name was stenciled around the front in fancy gold script, Pierre's. The place screamed rich to me. It was the kind of place I usually avoided to be honest. My parents usually did too.
“Looks nice,” said Tess as the driver opened the door for us.
She climbed out first, I quickly followed.
Both of us out the same door.
I got a weird look and a slight smile from the man.
Why would I make him do more work?
“We won’t be long, Charlie.”
“Yes, Miss Theresa.”
We left the driver and his car.
Once again, someone opened the door for us. He gave us both a curt nod but a strange look.
Stepping inside, I scanned the tables.
Everyone here was dressed like they had money. I felt a little underdressed to be honest. It was one of those places that businessmen ate lunch at too I noticed. It was all men too, most sitting together at tables designed for two. Not a single one of them were dressed casually like us. It made me feel very underdressed actually. Tess either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She acted like she belonged there. I tried to mimic her but I felt a bit awkward.
A moment later, we were approached by a matri de.
A tall man, dressed like the rest but with slicked-back hair and a thin mustache.
He stared at us strangely too.
It suddenly occurred to me that we were, in fact, the only two women present.
“Good afternoon, ladies, my name is Pierre. How may I assist you?” he said in a crisp, slightly accented voice.
Pierre, did that mean he owned the place, too?
“We were wondering if you could point us in the direction of Patrick Wellington.”
Pierre stared at us.
It was the calculating stare of a man who knew his job. I could read him like a book. There was no way that he was going to lead us to Mr. Wellington. This was the kind of place with high end clientele who valued their privacy. I looked past him at all the fancy tables and their fancy people. There was a bar off to one side, a swinging door to the kitchen and a staircase. In front of which was a roped off sign that said, PRIVATE. Clearly, if Patrick Wellington was anywhere it was up there in the private area.
Biting my lip, I put on my greatest performance.
“Pietro,” I said, mimicking a Valley girl and getting his name wrong on purpose. “So like do you want to tell him that his son knocked me up or do you like want me to shout it out right here?”
The look on Pierre’s face was priceless.
I actually thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.
“Because” I said, raising my, voice. “I can like be really loud if I need too.”
My tiny outburst caught the attention of the men at a nearby table.
Pierre turned a shade of white.
“That won’t be necessary, Mademoiselle.”
He snapped his fingers. Immediately, a young waiter rushed to our side.
“Henry, please inform Mr. Wellington that he has a guest.”
The waiter---Henry---quickly rushed off.
Pierre turned To Tess. “If Mademoiselle would like, I can offer you a table while you wait for your friend?”
“She would like.”
He snapped his fingers again and another young waiter appeared.
“David, this young lady would like a table.”
He was tall and handsome, I saw Tess smile.
“Right this way please, Miss.”
He crooked his arm, she slipped her’s through and he slowly led her to a table. Tess started to flirt as they walked off. I could hear the giggles.
She worked fast.
I watched her for a few then snapped around when Henry returned. He was cute and young too but I was too focused to give him too much attention.
“Mr. Wellington is waiting.”
He tried to get me to take his arm but I ignored him. Giving me a strange look, he started toward the private stairs instead. I followed close on his heels. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, removing the rope and nodding. I thanked him then slowly made my way up. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. This was it, this was potentially the moment of truth time for me. I’d given it a lot of thought and I knew what I wanted. What I needed. If this man was my father, I just wanted the truth. I didn’t want him to acknowledge my existence or give me any money. I just wanted him to know that I was here and that if he wanted, I’d be willing to have a relationship with him.
Reaching the top of the tiny flight of stairs, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I looked around.
The private dining area was just as fancy as the one below. Unlike the one below though, the light here was all natural. There were large windows that took up the whole left wall. I could see a great view of the city street beyond. I think they were one-way glass though. Pretty swanky. Also very private. Looking away from the windows, I noticed the small bar area, a couple of tables and the lone patron.
Patrick Wellington.
The man of the hour.
I stepped forward and stopped suddenly when a large man stepped in front of me. Gray suit, shaved head, dark glasses. Private security. Like Jax but unlike Jax, this one was packing. I saw the bulge on his left side. No doubt military trained, the man studied me with searching eyes behind those shades.
“Its all right Frank”.
The man stepped aside.
He was big but I would have put up a hell of a fight.
I handed him my little clutch.
“Beware the lip gloss, its grape,” I deadpanned.
I saw a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth, a possible smile.
Other than that, Frank made no move to check my bag.
I looked from him to my target.
Patrick was fortyish, his blonde hair slicked back, his suit very expensive. He looked like he belonged in this place. Unlike the patrons below though, he had a bemused look as I approached the table.
“Before you begin,” he said, still slightly bemused. “My son Jason is in Cabo with his friends and his last girlfriend left him two months ago. She wasn’t you.”
Wow, busted that quick.
“If you knew all that then why agree to see me?”
“Because any young woman who was desperate enough to make up a lie like that, she probably has a very pressing reason to see me,” he said with a smile. “Miss...”
“Hodge,” I said, dropping into the seat across from him.
The bemused look disappeared.
“Mackenzie?” he asked, surprised.
So he knew me.
That surprised me.
Not as surprised as he was though apparently.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting this,” he said, loosening his tie a bit. “The last time I saw you, you were really little.”
I nodded. “I can’t say I ever remember meeting you.”
“It was a long time ago.”
Interesting.
“So what can I do for Carrie’s lovely daughter?”
No one called Mom that anymore, not even her own folks. It told me that the two of them had some kind of close, intimate relationship.
“You call Mom, Carrie?”
He smiled. “Your mother and I have been friends for a long time. Nearly twenty years now. You could almost say she’s my best friend. We try to have lunch almost every month you know.”
It hit me then.
Patty.
I felt like an idiot.
Mom’s friend from college.
Oh my God.
Patty was Patrick Wellington.
“You’re Patty?” I said, shocked.
He laughed. “Is your mother still calling me that!”
Carrie, Patty?
What was going on here?
Was Mom having an affair?
Patrick stopped laughing as soon as he saw my look. He was a sharp man, the wheels in his head turned just as fast as mine.
“Wait, no, you don’t think your mother and I...” He composed himself before he spoke again. "I admit to a relationship but that was a long time ago. Your mother is happily married.”
“And you’re not?”
“I didn’t say that but it's complicated.”
Complicated?
It hit me like a ton of bricks. How could I have been an idiot?
There were no women here, all the wait staff were young and attractive men. The private dining area, the one-way windows.
This was a gay restaurant.
This was a place where rich, white in-the-closet men could go and be private about said life. Downstairs, I realized that none of the men were actually alone. The tables were all set for two. The interior while expensive was also very feminine and lavish, far too lavish for a gentlemen’s only club like I originally would have guessed. It's also the reason why I kept getting strange looks. That both Tess and I were getting strange looks. I wonder if Tess knew and if she didn’t, should I tell her?
I leaned forward and lowered my voice, “You’re gay?”
I said it barely above a whisper.
“Its not common knowledge, I’d ask for discretion on your part.”
“Does my mother know?”
He nodded. “She does.”
“You’re married though!”
“Happily but it's for show, an arrangement made years ago. My father didn’t like the idea of his gay son ruining his company so measures were put in place. Gloria my wife is well compensated for her time. Before you ask, yes Jason is my son. One of the many agreements. We just never had sex to conceive him. He’s the heir the company needed and it satisfies my father.”
“Does he know?”
“My son, yes.”
Wow.
Of all the things, I never expected this.
“When you and Mom dated?”
He nodded. “I’ve known for quite some years actually. I was a teenager. I tried to hide in school but when I got to college, I started to experiment. Your mother was a good friend I met one summer in Starlight Cove when I was younger. We kept in touch. Its where the name Patty came from actually. When we got older, she agreed to be my Beard for the public. We “dated” for some time. We broke it off when she discovered she was pregnant, neither one of us wanted the scandal.”
Wait then that meant…
“You’re not him then,” I said, sadly.
“Not him?” Patrick’s eyes widened a second after he said it. “That’s why you’re here...you thought...”
I nodded, teary-eyed.
He reached forward and grabbed my hand gently. “Honey, I wish I was, I really do. I even wanted to be. I told your mother that I would take responsibility if she wanted but she refused. She didn’t want to do that to me. Of course, it didn’t stop the press from speculating. We did the whole paternity test thing and everything just to prove I wasn’t.”
I nodded, numbly.
Shit.
All of this for nothing.
I started to stand up, pulling my hand quickly from Patrick’s.
“I’m sorry that I wasted your time then” I said quickly, the tears freely flowing.
I’m such an idiot.
I made a mad dash for the stairs. Frank didn’t try to stop me. Patrick did though. He was fast, faster than I would have given him credit.
“Sweetheart, wait,” he said, grabbing my arm gently.
He spun me to face him, then pulled me into a hug.
It was surprisingly intimate.
He held me until the tears went away.
As soon as I felt I was done crying, I gently pushed from his embrace. He didn’t let me go though, he held my shoulders gently.
“I may not be your father but it doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he said, smiling. “Clearly you came here looking for answers and what kind of BFF would I be if I didn’t have any.”
He led me over to the closest table, pulled the chair out for me.
I sat.
"Your mother and I weren’t exclusive,” he said, sitting across from me. “She was a bit of a free spirit back then. Our relationship wasn’t real so she had quite a few others. Always with protection though, she was a careful girl. She was burnt out though. The job and the life was starting to get to her. So I suggested she take some time off, relax. She agreed and went back home. To Starlight Cove. It was right before Thanksgiving, November, nine months before you were born...”
Patrick was painting a picture for me.
He wanted me to fill in the blank spots.
It didn’t take me long.
“So,” I said, connecting things. “If I was looking for answers...”
He smiled. “Bright girl.”
If Patrick wasn’t my father, it meant there was someone else. Someone that Mom didn’t talk about, take photos with or even tell her best friend about. He had to be someone close to her though, someone she was willing to have sex with and not care about protection? He also had to be someone at home, her home.
Wow.
Mom and I hadn’t been there in years. It was Mom’s hometown but she left when she was seventeen for reality show stardom. After I was born, Mom straightened out her life but her parents weren’t as forgiving. They were happy that she was finally starting to fix her life but they remembered all the horrible things she put them through to get there. My grandparents never visited. I got cards at the holidays and on my Birthdays but they never came to see us. Mom and I went down there one summer though, alone. I was five. I barely remember the visit. I just remember the end of it when Mom got into a big argument with someone.
I always thought it was Grandpa.
Because it was a man...
Could it have been…
Like a light bulb, I knew what I had to do.
I smiled.
“Thank you, Patty,” I said happily, giving the man a big hug.
“Any time sweetie.”
He stood with me, giving me a hug again.
"We should do lunch, the three of us. Sometime before school starts?"
I smiled. "I'd like that."
He may not have been my father but he cared like one. I could see why my mother was friends with him.
I thanked him then quickly left the room, nodding to Frank as I did so. At the bottom of the stairs, Henry smiled. I smiled back. Tess was finishing up her light meal when I approached the table. She gave me a hopeful look but I shook my head.
“He’s not?”
“Nope,” I said with a happy sigh.
“Why are you so happy then?”
“Because I know where to look now!”
Starlight Cove.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note I did say in a blog last week that something new was coming. I'm sad to say this is not the continuation of A Starlight Summer that I'm sure some people wanted nor is this a sequel to Hello. This is a new story, something quick and light for the summer. I'm actually not sure how long its going to be but I'm currently writing Ch.5. I actually started developing the idea of this story months ago but kept putting it off for one reason or another. I have a pretty good idea where I want to take so I hope everyone enjoys the journey. Once again I'd like to thank Nyssa for taking on the job of Editor once again :) PS: This story is NOT realistic in the least, set in a world alternate to ours and NOT connected to ANY of my other stories in ANY way.
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1.
It was raining. I should have been scared of the rain, but I wasn’t. There was something tranquil about it. I liked to sit in my room like now, staring out the window at it. It was coming down pretty hard today. My little room overlooked the parking lot, but it was hard to see the cars today. That didn’t stop me from staring though. It was a good time to think too. To think about where it all seemed to go wrong.
It was the water.
It was ALWAYS the water.
I can’t remember the first time I was in the water. I’m sure it was when I was a baby, probably during some swim school or some such nonsense. Trying to remember that was just as hard though. Like the faces of my parents. It was all just one blur. That’s how memories were sometimes. My first true memory of the water was when I was about five. My foster parents had this little kiddie pool in the backyard. It wasn’t very deep, but I almost drowned. It was Jimmy’s fault. He was my older foster brother. He liked to roughhouse a lot. He took pleasure in pushing me around. No one was around, but I was certain he was the one who pushed my head under water. He was also the one who held it there.
I left that place after that.
There were other times though.
Other incidents.
None of them ever ended the right way.
I learned early on it was just easier to stay away from it. As long as I didn’t go near the water then it couldn’t hurt me. Everything was fine until elementary school ended. In middle school, PE class changed. There were locker rooms and showers. Bathing never bothered me though. I could take a shower easy. It was the same for the rain. Getting into a bath was a problem though. Pools were a big problem. There was something about a pool of water that terrified me. The idea of not having ground under my feet was a scary thought. The idea of putting my head under was even more terrifying. I’d like to blame Jimmy but I know it wasn’t him. I was scared to go into that pool long before he dunked me.
It was called aquaphobia.
The fear of water.
Well, more specifically, the fear of harm in water.
After Jimmy nearly drowned me and I left that foster family, I ended back with the State. Scared and not sure what to do, my Case Worker sent me to a shrink. He diagnosed me fairly quickly. He was certain it was the near death by drowning that caused me such trauma. I’d like to say that’s what caused my fear but I’m not honestly sure. I think it was always there. I know I couldn’t remember it but there was something about the water that unsettled me. Every time I looked at it, I felt abandoned. I tried to explain that to a shrink but they kept chalking it up to deflection. There were a lot of shrinks over the years. Each one always had the same theory. I was afraid about drowning again so I kept coming up with excuses to stay out of the water.
They tried to help me.
They tried exposure therapy first. Many of them were convinced that if they exposed me to water that I might be able to conquer my fear of it. Little by little they introduced me to it. They started small with things like glasses and buckets, then kept moving up. The smaller things didn’t bother me. It was when they brought me to a tub full of water. I would freeze up and start to tremble. I started to sweat and couldn’t breathe. A few times I even passed out. After that, I was usually moved on to a new shrink. Then they’d try it all over again. It was a vicious never-ending cycle.
It wasn’t the only thing they tried though.
Their second favorite thing was cognitive therapy. The power of thought. If I challenged my mind to conquer the water then I’d succeed. At least that’s how it was supposed to work. I guess my fear was stronger than my rational thought. That didn’t stop them from trying though. Just like with the exposure therapy, most of the shrinks kept pressuring me with it. They were convinced I wasn’t trying hard enough. It was all pretty damn stupid.
In the end, I stopped going to shrinks altogether.
I was thirteen when the foster homes stopped too.
They were always happy to get me at first. They were nice enough people, but the water thing always beat them. In the end, I think the State stopped trying. It was just as well. I didn’t mind the group homes much. I’d been in a few. They were all pretty much the same. Some of them even let me have my own private room. I was bounced around them a lot though. Over the last three years, I think I’d been in at least six. Now that I was sixteen, I always got my own room. There were very few kids my age and none of them older. In two years, I’d be an adult in the eyes of the State. I’d be able to leave and start my life on my own.
Not that that was any different than usual.
I was always alone.
I was used to it now.
A gentle knock on my door broke me from my thoughts. I didn’t turn away from the window though.
I didn’t have to because I knew who was there.
A second later, I heard the door open and someone step inside. It was Mrs. Price, my current caseworker. She was a nice lady, but she wore too much perfume. I smelled her before she got to the door. It was like the woman bathed in it. Like a little blue-haired lady but I knew she was only in her thirties.
“Cassidy, are you all right?”
I sighed.
I never knew my parents. I’m told they dropped me off on the steps of a church when I was a baby. I was wrapped in a blanket and had nothing else. Except a note. It was a simple note. It told the nuns to take care of their precious child, Cassidy, and let him grow to be a fine, strong boy. Of course, whoever brought me into this world had a sick sense of humor because they spelled my name wrong, they wrote, “Cassidae”. I looked it up years later, it was actually the name of a snail. More specifically, it was the family name for the large helmet or bonnet snail. The irony was not lost on me. My parents named their son after a water creature.
Of course, the nuns thought it was a misspelling too because they called me Cassidy. They gave me the last name of Parker, it was the name of the street. I never really liked either name, to be honest. So I gave myself a new name when I was ten. It stopped the other kids from picking on me so much.
“Bo,” I said with a bit of annoyance. “My name is Bo.”
Hey, it sounded cool at the time.
Bo Parker definitely sounded a lot better than Cassidy that’s for sure.
When kids asked me about it, I told them it was my middle name. They never questioned it. The only ones whoever called me Cassidy these days were my teachers and of course my various social workers.
Mrs. Price being the current one.
Her heels clicked as she walked further into the room. I turned and smiled at her. Mrs. Price was a woman that took good care of herself. It was clear that she ate healthily and exercised regularly. I overheard her once talking to another social worker about how she and her husband ran a mile every morning. Though she always dressed in a professional pants suit, I could definitely see that she had a toned figure underneath. I’d overheard other things about her too. Mainly boys younger than me fantasizing about her, wanting to do things to her that I would never repeat.
“Cassidy,” she said, emphasizing my real name. “I have some great news. There’s someone here who’d like to meet you.”
I sighed.
Here we go again.
I gave up on foster homes a long time ago. I’d been in quite a few over the years, none of them lasting more than a few months at a time. My longest had been when I was ten. They were called the Mitchells. They had a daughter Tori who was a year younger than me. I was with them for over a year. Everyone thought for sure that it would stick. My case worker at the time was Mrs. Glenn, an older woman who didn’t smile much. She was nice enough in her own right I suppose. She’d placed Tori with them a few years before. The Mitchells adopted her a year before I arrived. They were nice people. They lived in a large brick house with a white picket fence and had a great big pool in their backyard.
That’s where it happened.
It was all innocent enough at first. I’d been avoiding the pool most of that summer. The Mitchells were well aware of my fear of water. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop a group of neighbor boys. They weren’t cruel by any means but they were insistent. They wanted to use our pool. I knew them from school but I wasn’t really friends with them. The kid in charge of the group was named Tommy. He was a bit on the pushy side. His parents were rich so he always got his way. Well, one thing led to another and all of us were sitting around the pool deck. It was the closest to the water that my phobia would allow. The other boys jumped right in though. Tommy lingered back with me, trying to coax me into the water with him.
I wouldn’t call him a bully. Tommy wasn’t a bad kid. There were just a few misconceptions about me that Tommy, like a lot of people, made.
I’ve always been a bit on the dainty side. Not just in size either. My hair was silky smooth, the gold of spun gold as I’ve been told. My eyes were a bright blue, brighter than most people. It tended to draw a lot of attention. Even at age ten, it was hard for me to go unnoticed. It didn’t help at the time I liked to wear my hair a bit on the long side, generally at my shoulders. Most people mistook me for a girl at first glance. It didn’t help that Tori liked to braid my hair whenever she could. She used to say I was too pretty to be a brother so she treated me like a sister. I never protested because honestly, I liked the attention. She was the first person my age who was nice to me. I didn’t care if she wanted me to be her “sister”.
I never blamed Tori for what happened after.
Many thought I did.
Tommy started to tease me like boys his age did with girls. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, he was trying to push me into the water. I panicked and reacted. Mrs. Mitchell wasn’t fast enough to stop what happened next. I shoved Tommy backward as hard as I could. He stumbled over the deck chair and hit his head on the corner of the railing. I didn’t kill him, thank god, but he got a nice gash. There was a lot of blood. He ended up in the hospital, had to have stitches. Shortly after that, his parents sued. There was a lot of back and forth for a bit between lawyers, but I was told later they settled out of court. It didn’t matter though, the Mitchells sent me back.
Unwanted again.
Tori told me later that she found the adoption papers. They were going to make it official. She bawled for three days after. We still kept in touch, usually through email and social media. She still called me her “sister” which of course the two of us laughed about. I missed her a lot though. We no longer lived in the same state anymore. Her father got a promotion two years ago and they moved. We never told her parents we kept in touch. I think it was all too painful.
Not just for them either.
I stopped caring after that.
I was in three or four more places after that, but none of them stuck.
Here it was nearing my sixteenth birthday, I wasn’t expecting much.
Now, this.
“I’m not interested.”
She sighed.
This wasn’t the first time she and I had had this conversation. She kept pushing these new people on me and I deliberately kept scaring them away. I was getting pretty good at it too. I had this emo act down pat now. It helped that I sold it with a few more piercings than usual and some dark eye makeup. I wore my hair in a typical emo fashion, cut with a lot in front to hide my eyes. I occasionally dyed it different colors too. Currently, it was black with a green streak. I topped the look off with some dark clothes, enough to make me look like I didn’t care.
It was an act that worked.
It was an act though.
One that she saw through all the time.
“We’ve been through this, Cassidy, you have to give someone a chance.”
We had been through this.
Many times.
It was starting to become a broken record.
“I don’t want to give someone a chance. I want to be left alone until the state throws me out.”
“This lady is different.”
I’d heard that before. She said that about the Mitchells. I was stupid enough to believe her too. They were good people. I was hoping they wanted me in their lives for the rest of mine. Then Tommy Kincaid ruined all that for me. It never stopped either. Tommy was still around, a little older but definitely not wiser. Of course, he and I didn’t travel in the same social circles. I was that dangerous loner, he turned into the jock. Big surprise there. For a while after the incident though, he and his buddies went out of their way to “bump” into me at recess. He seemed to think that I somehow tricked him into thinking I was a girl. It had nothing to do with me laying him out.
The bullying thankfully stopped when we got into middle school. He got a girlfriend and the novelty of me wore off. There were other bullies though. Thankfully my emo act scared them away too. It is, after all, hard to bully someone who doesn’t react at all to your taunts. Even pushing me around in the hall got tiresome to them. So in school just like life, I was all but ignored.
Except by Mrs. Price.
I sighed and jogged her memory. “That’s what you’ve said about all the others.”
“You didn’t give those…” She rubbed her temples. “No, I’m not going to get into this right now. What I am going to do is tell you to meet with this couple. They’ve come a long way and she asked for you specifically.”
Wait, what?
“What do you mean they asked for me?”
Mrs. Price shrugged. “They said they were looking for a boy named Cassidae.”
Cassidae?
“Cassidae and not Cassidy?”
Mrs. Price smiled. “I thought that might pique your interest. It certainly piqued mine. She’s waiting in Mr. Fraser’s office, would you like to meet her?”
I bit my lip.
Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.
Someone was asking for me. Someone who knew my name.
How could that be?
Mr. Fraser was the head of the Social Services department in our sleepy little hamlet. Grover wasn’t exactly a hamlet, more like a small village. It was so small that it rarely appeared on maps. Most of the older residents preferred it that way but a lot of the younger ones were racing to leave. Not me though. I liked it here. It was where the Mitchells lived, the only true place I ever called home. Sure they were gone now but that didn’t stop me from feeling close to them. I made a detour every day after school to walk by “our” house. There was a new family living there now, but the place still looked the same. I know it was brutal to do, reminding myself every day of what I could have had, but they still felt like my family.
No one else ever got close.
Not the kids here.
Not Mrs. Price.
Definitely NOT Mr. Fraser.
When we knocked on his door, we heard a grumble that told us to enter. Fraser was sitting behind his desk. He gave me a look when we entered. I knew that look all too well. The man didn’t like me. The feeling was mutual too. He’d called me an ungrateful punk more than once. He more than likely said a lot worse things behind my back. I know I did. Fraser was a fat, bald jackass. A pompous windbag who did his job half ass and half-cocked. He cared more about his quotas than he actually did about placing kids in the proper foster environments.
Looking around the room, I rolled my eyes at all his “awards” and certificates.
He was such a tool.
“Parker” he grumbled, not looking up from my rather thick file. “I see you’re back here again."
That’s how much he knew.
I grunted. “I never left.”
“Well yes, I meant this office of course...”
I shared a look with Mrs. Price, she returned a weak smile.
“Mr. Fraser, we’re here about the couple that showed interest in Cassidy?”
He looked at my file then to me. “Oh yes, right.”
He pressed the intercom on his desk, asking his secretary to send in the Spencers.
The Spencers.
A thousand thoughts were rolling around in my head right now. If they knew my name, my real one, could it be that they really knew me? Maybe they were distant relatives or even better, maybe… No, I wasn’t going to let myself get my hopes worked up. I gave up on my parents a long time ago. They abandoned me on the steps of a church. They weren’t coming back. I was going to have to accept it once and for all and move on. No, whoever these people were, they were strangers.
A moment later, the door opened.
I held my breath.
I was surprised at how normal they looked. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the couple that walked through the door looked like nice people. Both middle class, dressed in button-downs and khakis. They appeared to be in their mid-thirties, in good health. In fact, in great shape. The husband looked like he could run marathons. He hid it well behind the buttondown shirt and black frame glasses. I watched them carefully, wondering what their deal was. They took seats on the opposite side of the room, near the door. They looked around the office before their eyes fell on me. I still held my breath, waiting for the reaction.
It was the Emo disguise.
It always got them.
When the wife looked at me though, she smiled.
Well, that’s a first.
“This is him?” she asked, Mr. Fraser nodded.
Then the professional took over.
Mrs. Price cleared her throat. “Cassidy, this is Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, they’re from Richmond.”
“That’s nice,” I said, all part of the act.
I discovered if I acted how I looked it scared them away too.
I watched and waited.
Mrs. Spencer stared at me. I watched and waited. I was expecting it to come any minute.
The look of disgust.
Her reaction came fast.
It was not what I was expecting.
She was crying.
Wait, what was going on?
“He looks like her.”
She started to wipe her eyes with the handkerchief her husband handed her. He apologized as he started to rub her back. Me, I was surprised by this new turn of events. What was going on? Why was she crying? Who did I look like?
I was waiting for her to answer, but instead, she got up and rushed out of the room.
I didn’t know what to do.
Mr. Spencer was standing up to go after his wife but Mrs. Price waved him down. She got up and quickly followed the fleeing woman from the room.
Mr. Fraser grunted.
A lot of help he was going to be.
Mr. Spencer, for his part, looked at me. Then he gave me a weak smile. “So I suppose I should explain some things...”
That would be nice.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He fidgeted a bit. He was definitely nervous.“You see, my wife had a younger sister.” He took another deep breath and let it out faster this time. As he did, he burst right into speaking. “She ran away from home about twenty years ago. Christy was only sixteen at the time. Her parents did the whole search thing. The police got involved. After about a year, they stopped looking. Most figured she had run off with some guy.”
He bit his lip. “There was some bad blood between her and her folks.”
At this point, Mrs. Price came back into the room. “Mrs. Spencer needs a moment.”
Her husband nodded then continued his story. “Christy was a good girl but rebellious. I guess most teenagers are.” He chuckled, looking awkward. I wanted to roll my eyes but didn’t. I wanted to know. No, I needed to know. “Dawn never stopped looking though. She and her sister talked about everything. She was upset and felt responsible that Christy never told her about running away. Then one day out of the blue, she got a letter from Christy. It talked about how she made a mistake...”
I’m not sure I liked where this was going.
Mr. Spencer sensed it. “Now, son, I’m not saying you were a mistake. I’m merely stating the facts as I was told them. Your mother got involved with a man she shouldn’t have. When he found out about it, he wanted her to have an abortion. She openly agreed with him but secretly wanted no part in it. You see, he was married and had children of his own. She hid the pregnancy from him. When it was time to give birth, she did it in secret. Afterward, she made a rash decision.”
Now I was starting to understand.
“So you’re saying...”
“We believe so,” said Mr. Spencer with a sigh. “It took us some time and a lot of arm twisting. I’m a lawyer by trade. I had to call in quite a few favors. The only thing we had to go on was a relative age, an approximate date of birth and, of course, your name.”
I scoffed. “That took nearly sixteen years?”
“We didn’t have much to go on son,” he said as if it explained everything. “We weren’t even sure if your mother was telling the truth.”
My mother.
You know I’d been waiting sixteen years for answers. Sometimes waiting is enough because the truth can be even worse.
“So what happened to her?”
He lowered his head. “She’s dead son.”
Wow.
I think I always knew. Deep in the back of my mind, I had an idea. I tried to find her myself once. Of course, I didn’t even have a name. Mr. Spencer had a lot more to go on. He had the resources too. That didn’t mean it stung less. There were really only a few kinds of kids in places like this. Ones that were orphans, ones that were abandoned by their folks and ones that had parents who had to give them up for one reason or another. I always dreamed I was the latter but it turns out I was like the former. My mother got scared, couldn’t deal and threw me away. It was the story of my life.
I held back the tears. “What happened to her?”
“She had her demons,” said a voice from beside me.
I hadn’t realized that Mrs. Spencer came back into the room.
She sat in the chair next to me. She reached for my hand but I pulled away. This woman might be related to me but I wasn’t that desperate. She started to cry again, but she nodded, moving out of the chair and back into the one next to her husband.
“We finally caught up with Christy a few years ago,” continued Mr. Spencer, holding his wife’s hand. “By that point, she was a different person. An ex-boyfriend got her hooked on drugs. She’s been in and out of jail and the hospital several times. We tried to get her clean, but it never stuck. A few days after her last stint in rehab, the police found her in a motel...”
He didn’t need to fill in the blanks.
Mrs. Spencer openly cried on his shoulder.
So there it was.
Now I knew.
Well, part of it anyway.
‘What about my father?” I asked bitterly.
Mr. Spencer shook his head. “She never said. She told us it was in the past and to leave it alone so we didn’t press her.”
The room fell into silence after that.
Mr. Spencer let his wife cry it out some more.
Mr. Fraser looked disinterested.
Only Mrs. Price seem to care. She reached over and took my hand. I didn’t stop her. She gave it a good squeeze. She was the only one in this room that I could rely on. No offense to the Spencers of course. They seemed like nice people. I suppose they were family. I looked over at them. I looked from husband to wife. I stared a lot at Mrs. Spencer. I tried to see myself in her but it was hard. Sure we had the same blonde hair and her eyes were blue but I’m not sure I saw myself. Staring at her though, it was clear where I got some of my features from.
Did my mother look like her?
It was finally Mrs. Price who broke the silence.
“So Cassidy, are there any more questions you’d like to ask your au...I mean, Mrs. Spencer?”
I sighed.
Actually they never really answered my first one.
“Why did you wait so long then?”
Finally, it was Mrs. Spencers turn. She wiped her tears and took a deep breath. “When I finally found my sister, she was in rough shape. We got her clean, helped her get on the mend. Up to that point, we weren’t even sure if you existed. But then she started talking about wanting to find you again. We agreed to help. She gave us your name and the name of the church where she dropped you off. We followed the trail as far as we could, then it went cold.”
Mrs. Price filled in the blanks. “The church closed about five years ago. Any records they had were lost.Your official state file wasn't made until you were brought to us about a year after your arrival there”
She pointed to the file currently sitting on Mr. Fraser’s desk.
The dumbass was using it as a coaster right now.
Mrs. Spencer nodded. “It took us nearly a year to get that far. By the time we found the church, your mother gave up. She went back to the drugs...”
I didn’t need to know anymore.
They found me.
Now what?
It was clear what these people wanted. Why else would they track me down after all? It was a shock, to say the least though. Here I was planning to spend the rest of my life here until I was eighteen. It was the only true plan I had. I was counting down the days. Ok, so not literally because that would be nuts, but I knew it wouldn’t be long. I never really thought about family. Not since the Mitchells. I NEVER thought that my parents might have any family out there. Well, at least not in a long time. I just figured if there was any family out there, they would have come for me by now. They were stupid kid dreams though. I realized later that there was no true way for them to find me.
I guess I was wrong.
There was a long silence again.
It was finally Mr. Fraser who broke it:
“So, you want me to start the paperwork then?”
“What?” asked both the Spencers.
The large man chuckled. “Well, you spent all this time looking for the pu...I mean boy. I just assumed you wanted to take him home with you?”
I watched their expressions.
First shock, then surprise.
They smiled, held hands and finally nodded.
So that was it after all.
“Well,” Mrs. Spencer finally said. “We had hoped that Cassidae might consider it?”
All eyes were on me.
Great.
I bit my lip, looking from one face to another.
They didn’t expect me to answer now, did they?
I sighed. “Can I think about it?”
A family.
My real one.
This is NOT how I expected this day to go.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's NoteI decided to post this chapter a day early. My plan is to post a new chapter every Monday. Except this upcoming Monday is my Birthday and my day off from everything important lol. This story is moving slower than I want narrative wise but I'm currently writing Ch.6 so and from that point on, the progression should be a lot faster. These first few chapters are necessary evils. Once again I'd like to thank Nyssa for her awesome editing skills. Also if you find a goof, please point it out in a PM and not in a comment.
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2.
I decided to take a walk to clear my head.
There were a lot of things I needed to think about. Too many things. Most of my life I had wondered about my parents. Who were they? What did they do for a living? Why did they give me up? In less than twenty minutes, I had all my questions answered. Most people in my situation would have been happy. Me, I just had more questions. Everything the Spencers had told me was too neat and tied up. I’m not saying they were liars, but I couldn’t help but feel there was more they weren’t telling me. Like my parents, for instance. I had long suspected there was something wrong about them.
I mean, I’m not an idiot.
Normal, well-adjusted people don’t leave their babies for others to care for. When I was younger, I used to like to pretend I was a prince in disguise. I was being hidden from an evil king to protect me from some dangerous secret. I tried to turn it into a game so the other kids would play with me but none of them had that much of an imagination. None except Tori of course. She was the only one who really wanted to have that perfect fairy tale life. Sure, she loved the Mitchells, but I think a small part of her wished her real parents would come back for her. We were similar in that respect. Except she had known what happened to her parents. They tried to sell her for drug money. It was a sad and horrible truth.
The fact that they tried selling her to an undercover police officer was just icing on the cake.
Tori lucked out though.
She got placed with the Mitchells fairly early.
I groaned.
Thinking about it pissed me off a bit.
I never hated her for it though.
I did hate them.
Well, for a time anyway.
It was right after all that stuff with Tommy. His parents really did a number on them with their lawyers. The Mitchells barely survived it. I didn’t know that at the time though. All I knew was that a month after the final court hearing, I was being shipped back to the home. It crushed me. Then the Mitchells moved away right after. I tried to forget them. Tori wouldn’t let me go though. She contacted me a couple of months later. We did the whole exchange email thing in secret, but I never actually thought she’d write me. I’m not going to lie, getting that first email from her upset me a lot. I cried myself to sleep for days before responding. When I did, I was a bit of an ass to her. I expected that was the end of it, but she kept sending emails and I kept writing her back.
My “sister” that never was.
Speaking of which….
My phone binged with a text.
I didn’t have to look to know it was from her. She was, after all, the only one I texted.
R U OK?
I sighed. I had no idea.
NOT SURE YET.
I texted her about everything as soon as I left Mr. Fraser’s office. I know the adults were hoping that I’d make a decision quick, but I wasn’t ready. It was a lot to put on my shoulders. I had a family, a real one. I now knew who my mother was and she had a sister. I also knew that my father was apparently an asshole who didn’t even know I was alive. When I told Tori about it I’m not sure who was more surprised. I mean, we used to talk about stuff like that. I think a small part of her was hoping that her parents might reach out to her someday. She always used to tell me how lucky I was, not knowing. It was easier for me to pretend that they were important.
Well, the truth sucks.
U HAVE LAPTOP?
I rolled my eyes.
Of course, I did.
There were only a few things that I actually owned in the world. My laptop was one of them. I never left home without it actually. It was, after all, a gift from her parents. They gave it to me on the only Christmas the four of us spent together. The Christmas after that, Mrs. Price gave me a carrier bag for it. The laptop was getting pretty old now, but it still worked. Mrs. Price offered to buy me a new one last year, but I refused. I don’t think I was ever going to give this one up. I used to tell anyone who listened that my “parents” gave it to me. Mrs. Price used to humor me about It but she would frown too.
GIVE ME 1 SEC. LET ME GO TO OUR PARK.
I was on my way there anyway.
It was the place I always went to think.
It was, after all, my special place.
Grover Park was only a block from the Mitchell’s place. Well, their old place. Our “father” used to take Tori and me there all the time. We used to play for hours. I used to think it was the most amazing place in the world. These days it was sadly not much to look at. It was a small section of green in between two roads. There was a swing set, a run-down jungle gym, and some picnic tables. There used to be a large oak tree, but the city had to cut it down because it was a traffic hazard. Every time I looked at the stump where the tree used to stand, I felt miserable. Tori and I used to love trying to climb that tree.
Today the park felt more dismal than usual.
Maybe it was because of the rain.
It was overcast and gloomy. The grass was a sloppy, muddy mess as I made my way to the tables. Thankfully it had stopped raining by the time I started walking. The sun was struggling to push its way through the clouds now. I was able to find a fairly dry table to do my “conference”. Taking the laptop out of my bag, it took me a little longer than usual to boot it up. As I said, it was pretty old. The WiFi was a little spotty too. The closest hotspot was at the coffee shop across the street. It was just wide enough to make it to the park but barely. As soon as I got it booted up though, I used Skype to call my “sister”.
It didn’t take long for her to answer.
We tried to video chat with one another at least two times a week. Lately, though it was getting harder and harder. It was nearing the end of summer and her cheer practice was starting again. She made the squad last year, one of the only eighth graders to do so. It was only JV but she gushed happily about it nonetheless. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered how excited she was. She even video chatted with me wearing her uniform. I managed to stop her before she burst into one of her insipid cheers though.
“Hey bro,” she said happily as her face popped up on screen.
“Hey, sis.”
Most people would raise an eyebrow at this exchange. Tori was of a mixed race heritage. Her mother was mulatto, her father black. Her skin was creamy brown and her head full of bushy curls. The only thing that might make people think we might be related was the ring in her nose and the butterfly tat she hid on her ankle. Then there was me of course. The pale freak with the dark hair, blue eyes, and black eyeliner.
“You look thrilled,” she said with a giggle.
“Well, it’s not every day that complete strangers show up out of nowhere and say they’re my family,”
She sighed. “So what’ cha gonna do about them?”
I shrugged. “I want to go with them but at the same time it feels weird.”
“I get that. When I met my Mom’s family, it was a little awkward.”
I forgot about that.
Last year, Tori finally got up enough courage to find her mother’s family. Her mother apparently had five siblings and she had several cousins because of it. They lived in Florida and paid to fly Tori there. She spent a week with them. She said she had a good time but it was really weird too. After all, these were people who knew about her parents, knew what happened to her and yet never once bothered to contact her. Not only that, they didn’t try taking her in themselves. There were a lot of excuses thrown her way too. It had all left a pretty sour taste in her mouth. She tried to be civil with them since, through Facebook and the like, but she didn’t really have that much in common with them.
“So what would you do?”
She crinkled her nose. She always did that when she was thinking.
“I think you should give them a shot. I know it’s weird, but I can’t imagine what would have happened if it was me. If my Aunt Carla decided she wanted to track me down sooner and took me in. I’m pretty sure I would have been over the moon.”
“Yeah, but you have Mom and Dad now.”
I couldn’t help it.
No matter how many years it had been, I still felt like they were my parents.
She gave me that look.
“I’m sor...”
I cut her off before she could finish. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’ve been over this. I got over it a long time ago.”
I just never told her how long ago that time was.
Or that I was partially lying.
I’m not sure I was ever going to get over it.
“You’re full of it, you know that.”
Well, she could always read me like a book.
I decided I needed to change the subject so I asked her about her week. It’s usually how this worked. We talked about my dull week then she regaled me about all the awesome things she’d been doing. Most of it was about cheerleading. I didn’t really mind. Ok, I did, but I was just happy that she was happy about it. Give her a chance and she could talk your ear off about it. Though lately, it wasn’t the only thing dominating her mind. Or our conversations.
His name was Trey.
He was on the football team. A running back. They met last month and it was love at first sight. At least that’s the way she tells it. I’m not sure I liked him. She tried to reassure me he was a decent guy, but she was my little sister and no guy was ever going to be good enough. I still wanted to meet him though. She kept on trying to get him into Skype so we could have a “talk”, but he kept brushing it off. That’s what made me not like him as much as she did. It bothered me that he didn’t want to take the effort to get to know her family. Sure, Tori and I weren’t blood-related but we were siblings. If the jerk couldn’t accept that then he wasn’t right for her. If I ever got a chance to meet him, I’d tell him that too.
She shifted her focus to school.
Well, her upcoming school year. She was super excited to finally be a high schooler. I tried to be as excited for her as she was, but I wasn’t as enthusiastic. I knew what my sophomore year was going to bring. The very same disappointment as my freshman one. It was the same as every year. I never really could connect with anyone, except Tori. Even then it was a little hard because she was a year behind me. For a small period of time, I was friends with Tommy. Well, before the pool incident. There were a few others I might have called mutual acquaintances, but nothing close to friendship. I was used to it by now.
“You know what I think you need,” said Tori after she was done talking about herself. “I think you need a change of scenery. You’ve lived in Grover your whole life. I think it’s time you get out of that tiny little town and see what else is out there.”
I wanted to argue with, her but she made a good point.
Maybe it was time to get out of this place.
Maybe it was time to find a true family.
“You have everything?”
I looked around my room. I didn’t have much, to begin with. I never put any decorations on the barren gray walls, the furniture belonged to the state and any personal possessions could easily fit in my backpack. Save for the clothes on my back, because I was wearing those. I did have a suitcase with the rest of said clothes. I didn’t have a lot though. A few t-shirts, some jeans, even a pair of shorts believe it or not. The rest of my things were keepsakes from childhood. Nothing really important save the note my mother left. It was so worn after sixteen years that you could barely read what was there. It was my most precious possession. Well, that and the blanket I was found wrapped in.
“Is your laptop fully charged?”
Mrs. Price seemed more anxious than I was.
I tapped my carrier bag. “Yes, and before you ask, so is my phone.”
She smiled weakly.
“I can’t believe...”
She wasn’t able to get the rest out before she started to cry.
The next thing I knew, we were hugging. It was a strange thing. Besides the Mitchells and Tori, Mrs. Price was the closest thing to family that I had. Well, had been, anyway. Now I had the Spencers. But that didn’t stop me from caring about the real people. I found myself burying my face into her chest, savoring the warmth. This woman was like a mother to me. She took care of me, made sure I did my homework for school, ate right, and went to bed on time. She went out of her way to make me feel special and wanted. Everything that a mother should do for a child. I wish my own was around to see it. She could take a lot of pointers.
When we finally pulled apart, I was teary-eyed too.
I wiped my tears quickly before she noticed.
She touched my hair and laughed. “It looks different without the streaks.”
I sighed.
After I decided to go live with the Spencers yesterday, I figured it was about time to make some changes. First to go were the streaks in my hair. It was washable dye after all. I lost the eye makeup too. I never was fond of it, to begin with. It was a pain in the ass to put on and it took me forever to perfect it. Lots of online makeup tutorials and A LOT of trial and error. After I did away with the multi-color hair, getting rid of the makeup was easy. Unfortunately, not easy was dying my hair back to its natural blonde color. When I started dying it black a few years ago, I made sure I used a pretty long-lasting dye. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen myself as a blonde.
I did make a promise to myself though.
No more hair dye.
Once the black faded, I was done.
It was all a part of a bigger promise after all.
To Tori.
After our conversation in the park yesterday, she made me swear that I would jump one hundred percent into this new life of mine. It was actually her idea to drop the emo thing. When I told her it was all an act, to begin with, she only laughed. Then she informed me that the clothes, hair, and makeup might have been an act but everything else was all me. I feigned being hurt for a bit. After getting home though, I thought a lot about what she said. I eventually came to the conclusion that she might be right. Not that I’d ever tell her that of course.
“I needed a change,” I said finally as I ran my fingers through my hair.
“Does this mean that that beautiful boy is finally coming back?”
I sighed.
Beautiful Boy.
It was something that I hadn’t heard in a while. Well, not since I cut my hair and starting listening to depressing music. The makeup and the scowl were not just a disguise to scare off potential foster duds, they also hid me from the rest of the world. I’m not going to lie. I knew why Tommy was teasing me that day at the pool. He thought what a lot of other kids our age thought. After it happened, Mr. Mitchell and I had a long conversation. One that eventually ended with a barber and some tears. Not just mine either. Tori bawled her eyes out when she saw that my golden tresses were gone. I’d like to say it stopped the confusion, but sadly, it didn’t. In fact, it just made me stand out more.
I’m not sure I was ready to go back to it.
Baby steps though.
I was about to say something to that effect when her phone rang. She excused herself and stepped out into the hall for a moment.
I took a moment to look around my room.
I wasn’t going to miss it.
I’d spent the better part of three years here. Alone. Sure, I had a bunk bed but no one ever occupied the top bunk. It was quiet and lonely, but I preferred it that way too. If I had wanted, I could have requested a roommate. Though officially, the older kids were allowed their own rooms, there was nothing in the rules that said they needed them. I just preferred the solitude. Plus, after the Tommy incident, being around other boys my age frightened me. The Emo Disguise kept most away, but every once in a while I’d run into a bold one. Because of my pretty face, I would find myself unable to bluff my way out of an encounter with such people.
I blamed my lack of confidence.
No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t bring myself to push them away.
Not anymore.
Not after Tommy.
Not after what fighting back had cost me.
I clenched my fists.
I heard Mrs. Price’s heels as she came back into the room.
“That was your uncle, I mean, Mr. Spencer...”
I sighed. It was going to take time.
An awkward silence filled the room.
“They’re downstairs waiting for you...”
Well, here we go then.
The Spencers were waiting downstairs by their rental.
They both looked pretty anxious.
Probably about as anxious as I felt.
I walked out of the building with Mrs. Price. She stopped me on the sidewalk right outside the door. We agreed to say our goodbyes here. She gave me a long hug. After which she slipped me her personal cell number on a piece of paper. She whispered that I should call her if I ever needed anything. She did it in secret because it was honestly against the rules. We’d known each other for so long that maybe the rules didn’t apply here.
“You take good care of yourself, Bo.”
Bo.
I started to tear up with her.
She hugged me again.
We finally pulled away. I gave her a reassuring nod and turned around, hefting my bags as I did so. No looking back, I reminded myself. I walked away from the building and toward the sedan. A few steps from the curb, Mr. Spencer came to retrieve my bags. He walked them around the back to put them in the trunk. While he was doing so, his wife stepped forward. She looked about as nervous as I felt. We stood about a foot apart, neither sure what to do. Finally, she broke the standoff with a very awkward hug. I returned it with just as much awkwardness.
Yeah, this was going to be weird for a while.
When we pulled away, she gently touched my hair.
“It was a washable dye,” I said as an explanation.
She smiled weakly and nodded. “It looks better without it, it’s a shame about the black though.”
I laughed nervously. “It will fade in a couple of months.”
She smiled and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Mr. Spencer came around and opened the door for me. I felt like royalty.
Climbing inside, I refrained from turning around. I didn’t look back until we were pulling away. The dull, gray building slowly disappeared the further we went, hopefully, to never darken my sight again. I sighed when it was finally no longer visible. This was it. This was my life from now on. No more foster care, no more group home. No more Mr. Fraser. I smiled happily about that last bit. He, I would not miss. I would miss Mrs. Price though. I would miss the idea of the Mitchells too. Thinking about them made me tear up slightly.
“Oh honey, don’t cry. Everything will be all right,” said Mrs. Spencer, passing me a tissue from the front seat.
She apparently misinterpreted my tears, but it was the thought that counted.
I smiled and thanked her, dabbing my cheeks.
After that, we drove on in silence for about ten minutes or so.
I watched as we slowly meandered our way through the streets of downtown Grover. When we passed my park, I started to tear up even more. I was in full on waterworks mode when we drove by the Mitchells’ old place. Home. I was leaving home. I was leaving all of it behind. I almost screamed at them to stop, to take me back. I wanted to tell them it was a mistake and I wanted to stay here. I wanted to go home. I didn’t though. I remembered what Tori told me. She wanted me to get away from this place, to put this life and its painful memories behind me.
A new life.
Wherever that was.
Wait, I really didn’t know.
Hadn’t Mrs. Price said something about Virginia?
“I’m sorry if this is a stupid question, but where exactly are we going?”
They laughed.
“There are no stupid questions in this car, Mister,” said Mr. Spencer joyfully.
“Richmond,” said his wife, looking at me from the rearview. “We have a nice house in the suburbs.”
I nodded. “Sounds nice.” Then as an afterthought, “Does it have a pool?”
She gave me a strange look. “No, but we can get one if you’d like?”
A feeling of dread passed over me.
“No,” I said a little louder than I should. “I mean, no pool...”
The color drained from her face. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. Of course, no pool.”
So they had read some about me.
That was good.
It was even better that they weren’t trying to run in the other direction. My fear of water had driven quite a few couples away. At first, they were convinced they could handle it. They were also convinced they were going to be the ones to cure me of it. That’s why there were so many shrinks in my life. Everyone had this hero complex. When none of their methods to save me worked, I was always sent back. Always with some lame, half-assed excuse. What it boiled down to was pretty simple. Parents didn’t want a damaged kid they couldn’t fix. That’s why I started to embrace the stereotype and prove how damaged I was. Like I said, the act worked wonders. I was done with it though. Done with the bogus charade. I’d been done with it for a while now. Pretending to be something I wasn’t was very tiresome. I wanted to be normal again, even if it meant going back to my golden hair and my pretty face.
Anything was better than the alternative.
I looked out the window as we drove through the rest of town, silent again. Bit by bit, Grover started to fade away. Until we were on a barren stretch of road going through farmland, heading south. Away from the airport.
“The airport is in the other direction?”
They laughed. “We know. We thought we’d take the scenic route."
“Wait, we’re driving to Virginia?”
They laughed again. “Of course.”
That was crazy.
I blinked. I quickly did the math in my head.
“That’s an eight-hour drive?”
“Nonstop, yes,” said Mr. Spencer. “We’re going to make a stop for the night though. Then tomorrow, we thought we’d head to Virginia Beach for a day or two. I hear someone has a birthday in a few days.”
Three actually.
It wasn’t a big deal.
Birthdays were just another day for me. I never really celebrated them. Mrs. Price would give me a card with some money every year but no one else ever bothered. Well, no one but the Mitchells of course. When I lived with them I had my first and only real birthday party. It was one of the best days of my life. After that though, I never even bothered. In fact, I still had all the money that Mrs. Price had given me the last couple of years. Adding it to my stash, I had about five hundred bucks. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than most kids my age who didn’t have a job.
I was a bit surprised they mentioned my Birthday though.
“I usually don’t celebrate it,” I said as if it was the least important thing in the world.
Mrs. Spencer turned around in her seat. “Well, you will this year. After all, you only turn sixteen once, right?”
She and her husband shared a laugh.
I returned it with a shrug.
What was so great about sixteen?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note: I was planning on posting this chapter yesterday but I got sidetracked. More importantly, I was reading some Whateley stuff and lost track of time. That universe can absorb you if you're not careful. I was talking a bit about this story with someone and I apologize if its taking a bit long to get to the point, I fear that's my writing curse lol. I'd like to thank Nyssa for all her editing work :) Secondary Note:I DO NOT WANT CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IN COMMENTS FOR THE LAST DAMN TIME. READ MY END NOTE. SEND IT TO ME IN PMs.
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3.
Mr. Spencer laughed.
He and his wife were currently discussing one of their previous vacations. I tried my best to pay attention but at the same time to stay out of their business too. So far I had let them do most of the talking. It was a welcome distraction from the more recent silence we’d been having. I was trying my hardest to let these people have their space. They were, after all, strangers to me. Letting them laugh and talk without interrupting was my way letting them feel more comfortable.
It was making me feel less comfortable too.
It helped that I had my phone.
It also distracted me from the bland landscape outside the window.
We were currently driving through Pennsylvania, about three hours into our drive. We would make a stop for the night in Maryland before moving onto Virginia in the morning. I tried to distract myself as we drove, but was finding it increasingly difficult. Looking out the window only added to my boredom. It might have been more interesting if we’d been driving through the state proper, but we were on the interstate currently. There was nothing but fields and trees as far as the eye could see. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen so much green. An hour ago I was excited to see it. After all, growing up in the city I rarely got to see the countryside.
Now I was sick of it.
It didn’t help that they kept trying to engage me in their conversation.
“Have you ever been to the beach before?”
I sighed.
Here we go again.
“Once,” I said, remembering it fondly. “With the Mitchells”
I almost said my parents but stopped myself.
I saw her smile in the rear-view mirror.
“That’s the family you lived with when you were ten?”
I nodded.
Give the woman a gold star for reading my file.
“They were going to adopt you right?”
I clenched my fist.
Of course, I made sure she didn’t see. I didn’t want her to think she struck a chord.
In the short period of time that I’d been with these people, I discovered a couple of things. One, they were trying too hard. They were trying to make a good first impression and it showed. They were both acting far too nice for their own good. I knew enough about people now to know when it was an act. They were hiding something from me. I’m sure it was nothing sinister though. I knew how to spot that too. I’d had a few experiences with it. Say what you will, but people come in all kinds and most are pretty decent. There are a few bad eggs though. There are also a few foster parents out there that are looking to cash in on their kids. They play a role, act a part, then cash in the monthly check. Generally on booze or material possessions. I’d seen it once or twice and I’d heard some pretty horrible stories over the years. Not every foster parent out there was looking to give an unfortunate child a home.
The Spencers didn’t appear to be the scheming type though.
But there was something about them.
Mentioning the Mitchells, for instance.
I thought I saw the corner of Mrs. Spencer’s mouth twitch.
Almost as if she was jealous?
“I didn’t think there were many beaches in Grover,” she said, laughing.
It was almost condescending.
I forced a smile. “It wasn’t Grover.”
It was the Finger Lakes. I didn’t tell them that of course. It was none of their business. I couldn’t help but smile thinking about it though. We spent a whole week there over the summer. It was one of the best weeks of my life. The vacation itself should have cemented itself as the best moment in my life, but that was the icing on the cake. The greatest moment of the trip was when I got Charlie. He was my dog. Arguably my best friend in the whole world. Well, at least for the very short period of time the two of us spent with one another. I’m not going to lie. It broke my heart when I had to leave that puppy behind.
I refused to let Tori talk about him.
He was almost six now, I guess.
I wouldn’t even let her show me pictures.
It was just too painful.
I started to tear up.
Shit.
I cursed again for cursing. I hated to swear. Mrs. Price used to scold me constantly for it. Apparently, I was too smart for it. According to her, only ignorant people swore. Well, it was a good thing I was only doing it in my head. Looking at the Spencers, I could see they were the type of people that might not tolerate it.
“Are you ok, sweetie?”
I turned my head from her. “I’m fine.”
She started talking again but I tuned her out.
I wasn’t trying to be rude, but she started on about a vacation she took to the beach when she was a girl. It didn’t sound all that interesting. She was about ten minutes into the story when she mentioned my mother.
“She loved the water,” she was saying.
I scoffed.
Define irony.
“Is something funny?”
I gave her a genuine smile this time. “Most not be hereditary, the love for water I mean.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Ummm, they said you’re afraid...”
I cut her off. “Yes.”
I didn’t need to be reminded.
I saw the look on her face. Interrupting her had hurt her feelings. I almost cursed aloud but stopped myself.
“Sorry,” I said and meant it.
She reached behind the seat and awkwardly fumbled for my hand. I met her halfway, she squeezed mine. “It’s ok, sweetie. No one said any of this was going to be easy.”
“It’ll get better though, kiddo,” said her husband, speaking for the first time in a while. “There’s just going to be a slow adjustment period.”
It was slowly starting to make some sense now.
“That’s why we’re going to Virginia Beach?”
His wife gave my hand another gentle squeeze.
She didn’t have to say anything though.
It was enough of a confirmation.
The promised stop for the night that Mr. Spencer mentioned was in Maryland.
We stayed at a little rest stop motel.
The stay was pretty uneventful. The place had been pretty dingy. After being on the road for nearly five hours though, it was a nice rest. It was all pretty ordinary and boring though. There was a nice little diner attached to the rest stop too. We had dinner there when we arrived, took our bags into the motel and all but crashed. It was just as well because we were on the road bright and early the next day. I had a fairly restless sleep. It was strangely quiet. I was used to a lot of noise, what with living in a building with at least twenty other kids. When I felt like I finally fell asleep, we were waking up again to continue our journey.
We arrived at Virginia Beach at midday.
My face was glued to the window.
This was, after all, the first time I saw the ocean.
It was amazing.
I’d never seen so much water before.
It was so blue.
I felt my hands twitch slightly. All that water, it was a pretty scary thing.
Sensing my apprehension, Mrs. Spencer tried to distract my mind.
“That’s our hotel resort over there,” she said, pointing.
The resort was amazing.
It had a large central building with several smaller bungalows dotted along the beach. All of them had this fake bamboo and thatched roof look to them. I’d see something similar in a movie once. Of course, those places had been the real deal. This resort was clearly trying to sell an experience to the tourists. I didn’t mind though. As long as we got one as far from the water as humanly possible.
We pulled the rental up near the large building. Mr. Spencer did all the talking.
We managed to get one of the prized bungalows on the beach.
Not exactly my idea, but they were very sought after according to the receptionist.
Mr. Spencer must have had some pull.
As we were walking out, he handed me and his wife a card.
“This is for the room.”
I pocketed the card.
The two adults excitedly talked about this mini-vacation. Me, I kept staring at the ocean. As we walked along the wooden path toward the beach, I felt my apprehension grow. Stepping onto the sand, I was nearly blinded by the whiteness of it. I didn’t know sand could be that bright? I shielded my eyes the best I could and followed my guardians toward Bungalow #3, our home away from whatever home for the next couple of days. Hopefully less. My birthday was tomorrow. I was hoping they’d get their fill of this place by then and we’d head to Richmond.
Away from the ocean.
Well, as far from it as the city allowed.
“Are you going to be ok this close to the water?” asked my aunt, concerned.
I surprised myself by thinking of her as my aunt.
So far she’d only been Mrs. Spencer.
It was inevitable I suppose.
I looked toward the ocean, trying very hard not to shudder. “It’s fine from this distance.”
It was, barely.
Our bungalow was just far enough away.
She came up next to me, squeezing my shoulder.
“It’s only going to be for a couple of nights. If it gets too much for you then we’ll move to a hotel further inland.”
I smiled and thanked her.
I also reassured her that it would ok.
Hopefully, I wasn’t lying. The last thing I needed was to have a panic attack here. Especially with all these people. Though the resort was far enough away from the shoreline, the beach was fairly crowded. It might have been a really lovely place if not for the ocean. It was strange though. I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I thought I would. Looking at the ocean now, I felt almost at peace. It was strange. This was the first time I’d ever felt calm near water. Especially such a large amount of it. Maybe it was only pools that did it to me? I shook that thought off immediately. I could clearly remember being scared around the lakes on that vacation all those years ago?
Maybe I was outgrowing the fear?
I bit my lip.
Maybe I should test it?
“Something wrong?” asked my aunt, probably wondering why I was standing there like an idiot.
Now or never.
“I think I want to walk around the beach for a bit, explore.”
She paused for a moment, as if she was about to say something but changed her mind at the last minute. She gave me a gentle smile instead. “I don’t see anything wrong with that. Just try to be back before nightfall if you can.”
I thanked her and handed her my bag.
I took my laptop with me though.
I wanted to have a quick check-in with Tori.
I found a secluded place not too far from the resort. It was in a little picnic area. I found a table as far away from the other vacationers as I could. Setting up my laptop with the free Wi-fi, I finally got a hold of her. As soon as her face appeared, I smiled.
She glared at me. “Where the hell have you been?”
I sighed. “On the road.”
I didn’t get a chance to tell her what was going on. Yesterday we were driving most of the day and the day before when we left, I was a bit out of it. So, naturally, I had to fill her in on all the gory little details.
“So you decided to go with them then?”
I shrugged. “I suppose I didn’t really have a choice.”
They’re family.
Though I didn’t tell her that.
She was the ONLY family I needed.
Well, she and her parents of course.
“You always have a choice. I think going with them was the right one.”
The jury was still out on that one.
We started to talk about her day for the last couple of days. She was halfway through a grueling cheer practice session when a group of bikini-clad girls ran behind me. She raised an eyebrow: “Where are you exactly; you never said?”
I didn’t?
“Virginia Beach,” I said with an eye roll.
She knew how much I LOVED the water.
“You’re kidding!”
I sighed. “Nope. Apparently, this is in celebration of my birthday.”
I said “celebration” with air quotes. I think it was just an excuse for the Spencers to come to the beach.
Her smile got enormous. “Cass, Virginia Beach is like six hours from here!”
She was practically jumping up and down in excitement.
While she was doing that, I pulled up a map on my phone.
I knew Tori lived on an island now. It was part of a much larger chain of islands off the coast of South Carolina. The Sea Islands. What I hadn’t realized was how close they were to me now. It felt like fate was dragging me here – the thought of being so close to her, to possibly seeing her and her parents again. Of maybe seeing Charlie again? I started to feel her excitement too. My family. I could go see my family. Finally, after all these years, I could go home.
My excitement faded quickly as reality set in.
“We’re moving to Richmond, how far away is that?”
“Not sure. Probably not far. It doesn’t matter though, you’re close to me now. Close to us. There’s no longer this massive distance anymore...”
She was still excited. I couldn’t help but smile at that.
While I was smiling at her animatedly going on and on about how cool all of this was, I couldn’t help but notice I was being watched. I noticed them as soon as I sat down – a group of kids around my age – but I was hoping they didn’t see me. Out of curiosity though, I kept looking their way. It was hard not to. There were at least three girls in the group, wearing bikinis. They had tanned, toned bodies and filled out those suits nicely. The two guys were hardbodies too. Surfer types. Not the type of guys that would enjoy me eyeing their girls.
Now they were watching me.
Great.
It didn’t take long for one of the girls to break off from the “pack”.
I groaned.
“Something wrong?” asked Tori, craning her neck to see if she could see behind me.
She couldn’t.
A moment later, the bikini-clad blonde came sauntering over.
“Hey there!” she said in a chipper voice. “I’m Brit, you’ve been sitting over here a while, all alone...”
I wanted to roll my eyes but that would have been rude.
Instead, I flashed her a fake smile. “I’m not alone. I’m talking to my sister.”
I pointed to Tori on the screen. She waved like an idiot.
Brit looked at the screen. “Oh...well, I guess I don’t want to interrupt then...”
I sighed.
Thank God for that.
“I gotta get going. I’ll call you later, bro!”
I wanted to stop her but before I could she closed the chat.
Damn her.
Brit smiled big. “Perfect! C’mon, I’ll introduce you to my friends!”
Yay me!
I shut down my laptop, returned it to its bag and followed her over to her table. I was dragging my feet a bit, but in truth, it’s not like I had to go. I could have easily told her “No” or just walked away. Instead, I was following. Maybe a small part of me wanted to meet them. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just hung out with a group of kids my own age. Back home, I avoided most people. Besides talking to Tori almost every day, I didn’t socialize much. I woke, went to school, did my homework then went to bed. I did it day after day. Even meal times at the home I usually sat alone. I convinced myself that I preferred it that way. I also convinced myself that others didn’t want me around.
The thing is, I never really tried.
Walking up to the table, Brit smiled big. “Guys...this is….umm...”
“Bo,” I said, giving them the name I made up for myself.
One of the girls scrunched up her nose. “Is that a real name?”
I shrugged. “It is today.”
One of the guys laughed, the others, including Brit, stared at me funny.
Brit quickly did the intros. The two other girls were Mandy and Claire. Mandy was the one that commented about my “name”. The two surfer guys were Brody and Dave. Dave was the one that laughed. I tried to be polite, but honestly, they all intimidated me. They were beautiful people and I barely compared. Especially to the guys. Their height, their chiseled abs. I looked pathetic in comparison. It didn’t help that Brody was staring at me like he wanted to squish me. Dave was staring too but his gaze felt different. It made me a bit uncomfortable actually.
“Well scoot over,” said Brit, making room at the table for me.
I sat next to her.
She giggled.
After I sat, their conversation started. I quickly felt out of the loop. From what I could tell, they were from somewhere inland. They never said where. They were on vacation, this was the last leg of it. They were obviously staying at the resort, happy to be in such a beautiful place. I only half paid attention to all of it though. I felt out of place. More so because they didn’t bother to include me in their talking. It didn’t take me very long to figure out why I was here. Brit made it very clear when she grabbed my hand. They were all paired up. She was the odd woman out.
I felt so used.
I thought about leaving but I decided to go with it.
After all, we were only going to be here another day or so.
“So Bo, where are you from?”
It was Dave who was asking.
“New York, originally,” I said without giving it too much thought. “I’m moving to Richmond though.”
“That’s a drastic change.”
I shrugged. “Story of my life.”
He started to ask about my life but I wasn’t ready to tell a complete stranger about me, so I lied. I told him my parents died recently, and I was now living with my aunt and uncle. Not an outright lie, but it worked. It got me some sympathy, especially from Brit. It was kind of nice having a beautiful, half-naked girl press her chest against my arm. I certainly wasn’t going to complain. Me opening up to Dave, though, shifted the whole conversation toward me. Everyone was suddenly interested in New York. I tried my best to field questions, but as soon as they realized I lived nowhere near the City, they lost interest again.
Well, all of them except Dave.
He still peppered me with questions.
I answered them as best as I could. He mainly wanted to know about where I grew up and things like that. I lied well. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want these people to know the truth. They didn’t have the right to it. It wasn’t as glamorous as their lives either. So a few white lies between strangers was nothing. It seemed to work. He eventually lost interest too. He went back to hanging on his girlfriend which was just fine with me. Especially when the group got bored just sitting around and talking. It quickly became clear that they wanted to move their “party” elsewhere and I was free to tag along.
We moved from one place to another.
Not staying very long anywhere.
They were free spirits in a way.
We ended up at a pool for a while. It was one of those large, in-ground ones that a lot of hotels had. It felt a bit counterproductive to me though. This resort was on the beach after all. Why did they have a pool when the ocean was a stone’s throw away? When I mentioned it to the group, I got a lot of blank stares. Clearly, they thought nothing was wrong. Just as well. I’m just glad they didn’t ask me to go into the water with them. I was perfectly happy lounging in one of the poolside deck chairs. Brit did ask me why I didn’t want to go into the water. When I explained to her I didn’t have a suit, she gave me a funny look. It occurred to me then that I told them I was on vacation. So I quickly explained to her that I wasn’t a very strong swimmer and that got her to go away. Thankfully, we didn’t stay at the pool long.
We moved from there to a little bar area.
We stayed there until the sun went down.
I was sitting with Brit when the sun finally dipped below the horizon. She was resting her head on my shoulder. It was nice. If I could, I would have sat here for the rest of my life. It was a bit strange though. I’d only known this girl for half a day and yet she was determined to make me hers. If I had to guess, I was convinced she felt sorry for me somehow. I mean, why else would she have gone out of her way to get to know me? Most girls back home never gave me the time of day. Not that I went out of my way to get their attention. I was fine with being single. There was, in fact, only one girl that I ever had a crush on. Her name was Beth. She was my lab partner last year. My silent crush was a far as it went though.
Thinking about her made me smile.
“You going to the bonfire tonight?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t know there was one.”
“In an hour or so, silly. They do it every night.”
She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
We spent the next hour being lazy on the beach. When the bonfire crowd started to gather, I felt a bit apprehensive. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been around so many people. Especially my own age. In school, I tried to avoid large gatherings like this. Just as well, Brit and her friends were further back from the biggest group of people. The thing is, I thought I was going to hate it, especially being this close to the water. Once the food started cooking and the music started, I got lost in the excitement. Someone brought fireworks out about an hour or two into the party. The only thing I didn’t enjoy was the drinking. Especially when Brit passed me a bottle.
“I’m only sixteen,” I said, causing her to stare in shock.
“Shit, I’m sorry...I thought...”
I sighed.
So that’s how it was.
After that, she was a bit standoffish. Well, all good things, I suppose. Her clingy behavior all but evaporated after that. Twenty minutes later, I was alone. She drifted over to a surfer who was all muscles and tan. Just as well. I was starting to feel a little under the weather. Maybe it was all the sun. Or maybe my phobia was finally starting to catch up to me. I’d been sitting here close to the water for about two hours or so. I pulled out my phone and cursed. It was longer than I thought.
Almost midnight now.
How did I lose track of that much time?
Mrs. Spencer was going to kill me.
“You ok?” asked Dave, who sat down next to me.
Where had he come from?
“Not really. I was supposed to be back hours ago...”
He laughed. “Brit bailed, I see. She said you were a child?”
I groaned. “I’m sixteen...”
Dave laughed. “She’s a hypocrite. She’s only seventeen...she made it sound like you were twelve or something.”
Twelve? Wow, that girl has issues.
Dave and I talked a bit more. I was so distracted by our conversation that I didn’t notice it turn midnight during our talk. As soon as it did though, I felt something. I’m not sure how to describe it. There was a tingle that ran up my arms. The air seemed to shift too. Before I could only smell the smoke from the fire but now I could smell something else. Something salty. Was that the sea? How could I smell the ocean through all the smoke? What’s more, I felt a bit lightheaded.
“You ok?” he asked, concerned. “You look a little green?”
I smirked. “I think I inhaled some of that smoke.”
I started to cough. Without thinking, he helped me to my feet and led me away from the fire. As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice how much bigger he was. When his hand touched my arm, I felt another tingle. I think he felt something too because he gave me a strange look.
“You’re a blonde?” he asked, confused.
I chuckled, still a bit out of it. “Yeah, I just dye it...”
I brushed some hair behind my ear.
Had it always been that long?
I giggled.
Something was wrong.
“I think…,” I coughed, my throat felt raw. “I think...I need to head back...”
“You want some help?”
I waved him off. “You go back to the bonfire, I’ll be fine.”
I stumbled my way down the beach. When I reached the wooden path, I was barely able to stand. I wasn’t sure what had come over me. One minute I was fine, and now the world was spinning. I took each step as if I was walking underwater. My body felt heavy. I’m not sure how I got back to the bungalow. When I reached the door, I pulled out my key-card. I almost dropped it as I fumbled to swipe it to open the door. As soon as I got the door open, I stumbled inside.
I heard someone shout my name but it was lost.
The world swirled around me.
Then blackness.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note: Here we are, its chapter time. I was going to post this on tomorrow but I figured this was close enough. Was talking to another author about this chapter and I told her that "at the end, I might be tarred and feathered", so please, I'm allergic to both :D. My editor also told me, "Wow", so I'm glad to see that the end of this chapter had an impact. I'm curious to see how everyone else reacts to it as well. Once again I'd like to thank Nyssa for her editing :).
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4.
When I opened my eyes, I was a bit confused. I was laying on my back, covered with a fluffy blanket, on a soft bed. How had I gotten here? I blinked, trying to remember last night. Everything was fuzzy. I remember going to the bonfire on the beach, I remember Brit ditching me for manlier men and I remember, Dave, maybe? I groaned, sitting up. As soon as I did though, my head started to throb. If I didn’t know any better I could have sworn I was hungover. Not that I knew what that felt like. I’d seen movies though. I imagined this is what it felt like. The problem was, I knew I didn’t drink last night.
The light in the room suddenly came on.
I groaned.
“Well, someone had fun last night.”
Mrs. Spencer stood near the door, smiling at me.
“I didn’t drink,” I said, hoping she believed me.
She laughed. “I know. Honey, if you’d been drinking, you’d of smelled like it.”
Well, that was a relief.
She walked into the room as I sat up fully. If I wasn’t drunk, then why was my head pounding so much? Through squinted eyes, I watched as she walked over to the window and drew the shades. More light poured into the room. I flinched again but not as bad. After opening the shades, she walked over and opened the doors leading out onto my little deck. Our bungalow had two bedrooms, a small living/dining area, and a large wrap around porch that both bedrooms had access to. All fit into a tiny little house built on stilts. If it wasn’t so close to the water, I might have thought it was all pretty cool. Just thinking about the ocean made me shudder. The strange thing was though, it wasn’t one of disgust?
“You’re lucky I found you last night, passed out like that,” she said, turning from the deck and the morning sun. “If it had been your uncle, I’m not sure how he would have reacted...”
Did I pass out?
I rubbed my temples, trying to remember. It was still a little hazy but slowly coming back now. I was on the beach talking to Dave and got lightheaded. I was certain it was smoke inhalation from the fire, but it knocked me for a loop. I vaguely remembered stumbling my way up the beach toward this place. I must have passed out as soon as I opened the door?
“I think I got too much smoke.”
She gave me a long look but said nothing.
When she spoke it was in a neutral tone. “Well, breakfast is waiting in the other room. I’ll leave you to shower and dress.”
She left me alone after that.
It took me a few seconds to get the rest of my bearings and leave the bed.
I wasn’t familiar with the room at all, having gone straight from arriving to the beach yesterday. Wow, had it been yesterday? I took a few minutes looking around the room, checking doors. The first one was the exit. The second led to a closet where my single suitcase was sitting. The third was what I wanted. An en suite complete with toilet, a small sink and mirror, and a shower. I relieved myself first then went to the sink to splash some water on my face as I washed my hands. While doing so, I grunted at myself in the mirror. Not only because I looked like hell this morning.
The dye was starting to fade. I grimaced. Cheap crap, it was supposed to last for months. I guess that was the last time I bought hair dye at the gas station. I grunted as I looked at all the blonde that was starting to show. Well, I did want to get rid of the black, but I was hoping it would still last longer than this? I wasn’t ready to give up my armor yet. Running my hands through it, I couldn’t help but notice that it was thicker. Did it feel softer too? Sure, I shampooed and conditioned every night, but my hair had never felt like this before. I wondered if the humidity here was affecting it? It was a lot hotter here than in New York.
Sighing heavily, I stepped away from the mirror and started to strip.
When I got down to my boxers, I tried not to look at myself.
I was always pale and scrawny. It was something I accepted a long time ago, but it was also something that fueled the bullies a few years ago. I tried my best to avoid them, but there were a few that refused to stay away. I think the whole emo thing pushed them even more. That and how scrawny I was. Most of the tormenting didn’t last long. Maturity and time got the better of them. It also helped that I busted the head bully’s nose. Logan Greene. He was bigger than me and thought for sure he could get the better of me. Growing up in foster care most of my life, in and out of the group homes, I learned to defend myself at an early age. Logan never scared me as much as he thought he did. I proved it to him one rainy day when he and his buddies jumped me on my way home from school.
Of course, no one ever knew I was the one who did it. Logan’s pride got the better of him. He made up some story about getting jumped by one of the neighborhood gangs.
The bullying stopped there.
Logan wouldn’t even look at me after that.
I laughed as I dropped my boxers to the floor. I hadn’t thought about Logan in years. Smirking I stepped out of my underwear and into the shower. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and turned on the water. I could deal with showers and baths, as long as I was in and out as fast as possible. Usually about five minutes, enough to wash and not linger. Any longer and I started to get nervous. Standing in the water now, I let it wash over me for a few minutes before opening my eyes. As I stood there, I couldn’t help but feel at peace. It was a very different feeling.
I sighed, losing myself as the water cascaded over me.
Something was wrong.
Something different.
My skin started to tingle.
It was almost euphoric.
I grabbed a bar of soap and started to vigorously scrub my body. I caressed every crevice, each one feeling more amazing than the last. I was a slave to the water and I let it take me. This feeling, it was overwhelming. I felt like it could last forever, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. I opened my eyes, panting heavily. I slowly dropped the soap, barely able to stand. What the hell was that? I took a step back from the water stream, trying to collect my thoughts. Water had NEVER done that to me before. Take deep, calming breaths, I reached out slowly and allowed it to wash gently over my hand.
There was no tingling.
Frowning, I pulled my hand back then stepped back into the stream. Maybe it was a fluke? Maybe I was still coming down from whatever high I’d been on from the night before. Trying not to think too much about it, I finished washing. As I was shutting off the water and reaching for a towel, I stopped when I noticed something on my wrist. It was a bracelet of some kind? Had it been there this whole time? I fingered it gently, running my fingertips along the little red beads. There was something vaguely familiar about it. I wrapped the towel around my mid-section and stepped out of the shower.
I paused, wondering what I was doing.
Readjusting the towel around my waist instead, I walked into my room. As I did, I remembered where I’d seen such a bracelet. Brit and her friends had been wearing them. Theirs weren’t red though. Now that I thought about it, I think Dave was wearing one too. Had they given it to me and I blanked? A small portion of last night was still pretty fuzzy to me. It was possible the girls slipped it on my wrist without me even noticing it. I smiled at that as I started to get dressed.
Deciding to forego the whole “Dark Prince of Despair” look, I found a pair of normal jean shorts and a tee. Slipping on the shorts, I couldn’t help but feel they were a bit snug. I strained a bit buttoning them up. I chuckled, wondering when I wore them last. The thing was, the t-shirt was a bit on the tight side too. Mainly across my chest. The fabric felt a bit rough too. I grabbed the hem, giving it a sniff. When was the last time I washed it?
I shrugged.
It smelled ok.
Walking from the room, I found the Spencers sitting at the dining table. Room service had brought a nice spread of bacon, sausage, and eggs. I sighed at the heavenly smell. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever had anything that smelled so good. Finding an empty seat, I didn’t wait to be served. The two adults gave me a look then chuckled. I was almost done with my first helping when my bracelet took center stage:
“That’s a lovely bracelet, honey. Did one of your new friends give it to you?”
Lovely?
I looked at my wrist and lied. “Brit gave it to me, it’s something that a lot of the kids around here wear.”
She smiled. “That was nice of her.”
I’d only known these people for a few days and I was already keeping things from them. I sighed. This was not a good way to start. I wanted to say something else but instead, I finished my food. Then for some strange reason, I got a second helping. I couldn’t remember the last time that I ate two helpings of anything. While I was eating, Mr. Spencer stared at me. I tried to pretend not to notice but it was hard not to when he was making it very apparent.
The meal fell into silence.
“So, what do you have planned for today?” he finally asked.
I shrugged. “Not sure. Brit and her friends were talking about the boardwalk yesterday. I didn’t get a chance to see it, so I thought maybe I’d take a look.”
Mrs. Spencer smiled. “Do you want some money?”
I didn’t say “No”. She got up to retrieve her purse. A moment later, she came back with a little change wallet. She pulled out a couple of hundred dollar bills and held them out for me.
It was too much.
“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head.
“Nonsense, it’s your birthday. Get yourself something nice.”
My Birthday.
I’d completely forgotten. Well, not forgotten but I had other things on my mind when I woke up. Mainly the pounding headache. A headache that I realized was long gone now. Whatever it had been, the shower seemed to sort it out. I was thankful for that at least. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt like that. I was one of those rare people who didn’t get sick. I don’t mean got sick often either. I mean I have never been sick. There was a small chickenpox outbreak when I was in kindergarten, I was the only one who didn’t get it. During cold and flu season, I was virus-free. The thing is, I had the same shots and vaccinations as everyone else. I was like a freaky superhero with the power of immunity.
So feeling like that last night and this morning, it was a very new thing to me.
My mind drifted back to the bills she was offering.
With some reluctance, I finally took them.
“Thanks,” I said and meant it.
The thing was, I had no idea what to buy. Not a lot of people willingly gave me money and when they did, it was not this much. Like I said before, I rarely received gifts either. Except for the Mitchells of course. Mrs. Spencer giving me this money was a gesture of kindness I wouldn’t forget.
“You’re sure?”
“Of course we are, kiddo,” said Mr. Spencer with an award-winning smile.
“Besides,” said his wife with that same smile. “It’s not every day that someone turns sixteen, after all.”
I forced a smile.
They looked at each other, still smiling.
It was very creepy.
I’d never been to a boardwalk before. I wasn’t sure what to expect. After I left the resort, it was only a short ten-minute walk up the beach. I was surprised by the number of people here this early in the morning. Then again, this was a vacation spot and there were probably always people around. I did my best to blend into the crowd and hope I didn’t stand out too much. I got a few looks because of my black and blonde hair but for the most part, no one seemed to care. It was just as well. I was just like them, a tourist to see the sights.
And what sights they were.
On my right, behind the metal railing was the beach and the ocean beyond. To my left, towering way over my head were luxury hotels. Each tried to outdo the one next to it in size and grandeur. Scattered among those towering buildings were street vendors, food trucks and the sidewalk stalls. Lots of people crowded there, trying to grab a souvenir or two. I browsed with the best of them. I wandered up and down for a couple of hours, buying tiny things but not making a dent into the two hundred dollars my aunt gave me. At around noon or so, I stopped at a little cart selling hot dogs. I bought two and wandered over to a spot I thought might be cool to sit at.
There was a tiny little shaded eatery spot. It had some benches and a couple of tables. There was no one there, so it was the perfect spot. That was only part of the reason I chose it though. The other part was what was across from it. I’d been seeing the statue all morning. A giant depiction of King Neptune, holding a trident in one hand, his other resting on the back of a sea turtle. A quick google on my phone told me it was a pretty famous statue around here. Built-in the early 2000s, it was placed as a marker for the entrance of Neptune Park. That was only part of the reason I wanted to see it.
The other part was something else.
I felt drawn to it.
I couldn’t describe the feeling.
“It’s mesmerizing, isn’t it?” said a voice.
I turned and saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was leaning against a potted plant next to my bench, stretching one of her long legs. She was wearing a skin-tight green shirt with long sleeves and a tiny green bikini bottom that matched. From her tan and toned legs, it was clear was a surfer. I followed her legs up to her face, trying not to stare but it was hard not to. She had the most vibrant blonde hair and that smile, it was amazing. My heart skipped a beat.
“Yes, it is,” I said dumbly.
She laughed. “You a tourist?”
I nodded. “Well, just here for a few days.”
She laughed again. She had a great one. “Yeah, that’s me too. I’m here for the waves. I’ve been up and down the coast for them.”
“That’s so cool,” I said and meant it.
I always wanted to learn how to surf. Sadly because of my hydrophobia, that was never going to happen. Unless, of course, I finally learned to control it.
“It’s a way to make a living,” she said, brushing some hair from her face.
When she did, I noticed a red beaded necklace around her neck. It was stuck under her tight shirt, so I only saw part of it. I looked at my bracelet. I hadn’t realized they were that common. Sure, Brit and her friends were all wearing them, but I figured it was a group thing. Seeing her with that necklace though, it didn’t make me feel so awkward to have this thing on my wrist.
She saw me looking and smiled. “Red is my favorite color.” She gently touched the necklace. “This thing is attached to me. What about yours?”
I shrugged. “My friend just gave it to me. It’s my Birthday today.”
She smiled. “Happy Birthday then!”
We talked for a few more minutes when I noticed someone trying to stay out of sight. It was strange really because out of all the people around, he seemed most interested in us. Or rather her. Maybe I was just being paranoid because he was dressed like a creeper with those dark sunglasses. The girl seemed to notice where I was looking and looked too.
“Well look at that, you have an admirer,” she said with a laugh.
“Me?” I asked, surprised. “I think he’s looking at you!”
It was hard not to notice her.
She laughed. “That’s sweet of you.”
She reached to touch my cheek but stopped halfway as if second-guessing her action. I wouldn’t have minded though. She could touch any part of me that she wanted. Shit. I lowered my head at the thought and she smirked. Now everything was awkward. Here I was thinking dirty things about this girl who I just met only minutes before. A girl that didn’t even go out of her way to meet me. She just stopped to stretch.
She started fingering her necklace. “That guy likes you,” She sighed. “I hate manky bastards like him.”
I tried not to show I was looking, but I took a glance. The guy was still there. He wasn’t even disguising the fact that he was looking our way either. It was very creepy. He stuck out like a sore thumb too, not just with those dark glasses. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt, tan khaki shorts and knee-high socks with sandals. Who was this guy trying to fool?
She sighed. “Well I think I’m gonna have to deal with this,” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Just when we were getting all buddy-buddy too. I’ll catch up with you later, ok?”
I nodded like an idiot.
I’m sure she said that to everyone.
After that, the Surfer Goddess made a big spectacle. She walked across the street, shouting a name, “Jerry, is that you!” She went right up to the guy across the street and grabbed him in a big hug. It took me a second to realize what she was doing. She was distracting him so I could bolt. While she was hugging him, she turned them around so she was looking at me. She gave me a gesture with her eyes. I knew the look well. It was the “get the hell out of here” one. She didn’t have to tell me twice.
I finished off the last bit of my second hot dog and quickly left the area.
I moved with the crowd toward the park, hopefully putting enough distance between me and the creep. It was just as well, I wanted to see this park too. After googling that statue, I started reading more information about the boardwalk. Neptune’s Park was known to have a lot of live music. There was a band playing now. They were a cover band, playing some trendy pop tunes I didn’t much care for. There were a lot of people crowding around the stage though, mostly girls trying to get a look at the young lead singer as he belted out some sappy love song. I tried to pretend like I was enjoying the music, but I was disappointed.
Moving through the crowd, I meandered my way over to a juice bar.
I ordered a fruit punch mocktail and tried to look like I belonged here.
I knew I didn’t though.
I continued to sip my drink, hoping that there might be something of interest.
When the songs changed and it was another pop tune, I knew this was not the place for me.
Defeated, I started to make my way out of this place. Pushing through the people, I was almost to the exit when someone grabbed my arm. At first, I thought it was an accident but they weren’t letting go. I tensed up as their grip tightened. Turning, I saw it was my stalker.
Damn it.
“Let’s not make this any more difficult than it has to be,” he said, something pressed into my side.
Wait, was that a gun?
He had a gun?
Why did he have a gun?
“What the hell is this?” I asked, scared.
I wanted to squirm. I wanted to scream. Instead, I let him hold onto my arm and move me back into the crowd, away from the large statue looming not too far away.
“Who are you?” I asked but either he didn’t hear me over the music or didn’t want to answer.
He continued to push/pull me.
He led me away from the group and toward the other end of the park. I looked ahead and saw a black van. What the hell was this? Was I being kidnapped? Was this some kind of perv who liked to abduct teenage boys? I needed to get out of here and fast. I looked around, trying to find a way. I was starting to panic, blood rushing to my head. I started to feel woozy again. No, not now. Whatever you are, please not now. The world started to swim around me. I stopped moving, feeling sick.
The guy seemed to take notice.
I think he cursed.
He touched his throat. “I think we might have a problem. Send some help...”
Help?
He was working with someone?
He started talking to whoever it was, but to do so, he took his hand off my arm. It was his mistake. Whatever dizziness I was feeling faded away quickly. I think “Jerry” realized his error too late. He grabbed me but I was already gone. I took off back toward the crowd, running as fast as I could. As soon as I hit the group of people, my momentum was cut way down. They didn’t stop me from moving though. I pushed my way through, not caring about all the cursing and yelling as I pushed people aside. He was right on my heels too. I heard people cursing and yelling at him as well. I didn’t stop though. If I could get through this crowd and onto the boardwalk proper, I could make a mad dash for it.
That was the plan anyway.
Not apart of the plan was the fact that he was a lot more creative than I was.
He got in front of me somehow.
I cursed as I ran right into him.
He grabbed my arms.
“That was stupid,” he snarled, tightening his grip.
I lashed out because he had no gun on me this time.
It was useless though.
He was a big guy. Bigger than me. He was stronger too. I couldn’t pull free from his grip.
“Stop making this harder,” he growled. “I’m not trying to hurt you...”
Bull.
I still struggled. The more I fought with him, the more his grip started to falter.
Just a little…
“Dude, what the hell!”
Shit.
At first, I thought I ran into someone in my attempt to fight off “Jerry”. I cursed. Then I smiled as I saw the one who had spoken. It was Brody from last night. He wasn’t alone either, Dave was with him. The two of them must have been at the concert, probably with the girls.
“What the hell are you doing with our friend, punk?” asked Dave, putting a hand on “Jerry’s” shoulder.
“Jerry” was an imposing guy in his own right. He was not, however, ripped like these two surfer boys were. They were a lot taller than him too. As soon as Dave laid a hand on the jerk’s shoulder, he instinctively let me go.
“This is my nephew, I’m taking him back to our suite.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, rubbing my wrists.
“You want to try that again, bro?”
Brody gave “Jerry” a shove.
They were starting to draw attention. Several people around us had stopped paying attention to the music. I couldn’t help but smile. It was going to be hard for “Jerry” to make off with me now. A few of them had their phones out, ready to record a fight. “Jerry” sighed, defeated. I smirked. Yes, thank you, Brody and Dave. I took a step away from “Jerry”, moving around so I was now standing behind my two rescuers. I could have kissed them if they weren’t boys. Just as well, I felt secure with the two of them here.
“You’re leaving now, bro,” said Dave, his hand still on “Jerry’s” shoulder.
He didn’t have to be told twice.
I watched him leave. I didn’t feel truly safe until I couldn’t see him anymore.
I felt like crying. I’m not sure why. Ok, so maybe it had something to do with almost being kidnapped but it was more than that. I’d never felt this emotional before. What’s more, I wanted to hug both Brody and Dave. I was happy when Dave put his hand on my shoulder.
“You ok dude?”
I nodded. “Thanks to you.”
“Who was that asshole?”
I shrugged. “No clue. He was following me earlier. Some girl scared him off, or so I thought. I thought he was gone, then he grabbed me in the crowd. He tried to drag me to this van...”
I lost it at that point.
I started to cry. It was hard not to. Dave started rubbing my back. It was all a little awkward, truth be told. He and Brody were able to steer me out of the crowd. They took me to a little sitting area where Brit and the girls finally joined us. This time I did get a hug. Brit held me tight and refused to let go. It didn’t take long for one of them to suggest calling the police. I tried to talk them out of it, but they insisted. So there we sat. The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They made me describe everything that happened, took our statements, then offered to take me back to the resort.
“I’m good officers,” I said, hoping it was enough.
It wasn’t.
“You going to be ok, now?” asked Dave as they were leading me toward their car.
“I’m good, thanks to you.”
He smiled at that.
I smiled too.
In the car, the police officers tried to make small talk. Because I was a tourist they started talking about the area. A good portion of the real estate around here was owned by Charles Bishop. It was a name I’d heard before. He was some big billionaire tech guru. His name was in the news a lot. Besides being super-rich, he was also a philanthropist. He donated millions of dollars all over the world. The man was the closest thing to a living Saint there was. Very few people with that kind of power and money would be willing to do all the good that he did.
I think the tourist-speak was all a distraction.
They were all business as soon as we pulled up to the resort. We parked, and I escorted them to our bungalow. I was a bit nervous when they knocked on the door. I was even more nervous when the door opened and Mrs. Spencer was standing there. The look of shock on her face made me wish I wasn’t born. I inwardly sighed. This was it. This was the moment. I’d been here before. Well, maybe not here exactly but I had a pretty good idea what was going to happen next. It was going to end the same way. Back to the Home waiting out my time until I turned eighteen.
Well, it was fun while it lasted.
“Is there something wrong officer?” she asked, not even looking at me.
“Ma’am is this your nephew?”
She finally looked at me. “He is?” she said nervously.
The officer sighed. “He’s not in any trouble ma’am. Quite the opposite. Earlier today...”
He proceeded to tell her the series of events that led to all of us standing there. By this time, my uncle was standing beside her. They both listened until the officer was done. By that time, I had walked into the room to stand with them. My aunt put her arm around me. I felt safe and secure with her too. It was a strange shift. Almost getting kidnapped was enough to put my life into full perspective. These people were my family. They cared about me. I’d been foolish to think that they were just going to toss me aside after all of this. They were home. If anything else in the world happened to me I’d know that these two had my back.
“If it’s at all possible, I’d like to ask if you folks would be willing to spend an extra few days here,” he said politely. “Just in case.”
“Well actually, office, we just live in Richmond...”
“That will be fine then, sir,” said the officer.
He and my uncle shook hands.
Then the officer was gone.
As soon as the door was shut, my aunt pulled me into a hug. I lost it again and started to cry. She held me tight. It felt nice. I felt loved.
Nothing in the world was going to get between me or them ever again.
Then I felt a sharp pain. No, not a pain, a prick.
I pulled back quickly. She was stroking my hair with one hand, holding some kind of needle in the other.
“Now,” she said in a cold voice. “Look what you went and did now.”
The room started to grow foggy.
What the…?
I touched my neck. Did she just poke me with that?
“Kids these days,” said my uncle with a shake of his head.
I stumbled into the room, got a few feet and dropped.
No.
Darkness took me a second later.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note: Here's another Sunday posting. I'm seriously considering posting the rest of this story on Sundays from now on. Though I have considered possibly posting on Tuesdays as well. Mondays are fairly busy posting days on this site after all. I'm curious what everyone else thinks. I have to say this is a shorter chapter and it doesn't have all those juicy answers people were hoping for after last chapter's shocking twist. I'm once again like to thank Nyssa for her work trying to make sense of my scribblings and make them readable for everyone else :D.
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5.
A dim light shone into the room from a window off to my left. I turned my head, blinking away the groggy feeling. For a moment it felt like my whole body was floating. The weightlessness only lasted for a few more seconds and then I came crashing back down. I grunted. My mouth was dry and it felt like there was a great weight holding me down. As soon as I tried to sit up, I realized what it was. Straps. I wiggled, trying to see how much room I had. Not much. There were two. One across my chest, just under my armpits and another across my legs, just above my knees. Whoever put them there was bound and determined that I didn’t move.
I tried raising my arms but they were strapped down too, at my wrists.
The same with my feet but at my ankles.
A prisoner.
The only thing I could move freely was my head. In the dim light, I could see most of the room. It was large, the windows were floor to ceiling, they covered the whole left wall. The bed I was on seemed to be the center of the room. It had higher ceilings and very little furniture. I saw a dresser, what might look like a sofa and maybe a table. There were three doors. One was the exit, the other two must have been a closet and the bathroom door. This wasn’t the bungalow anymore though. The room was much larger than that. So I’d been moved. I would have spit if I could.
Right now though, I needed to figure out what was going on.
Things were a bit foggy.
I remembered everything up until being brought home by the cops. As the seconds went by though, more and more was starting to come into focus. After the cop left, I was hugging Mrs. Spencer and someone stabbed me with a needle. No, not someone. It was her. I could still feel the slight sting from it. I had stumbled into the room and passed out. I woke up twice before this. Once in a dark place where I was stuck with a needle again. Then again, strapped to a bed. More than likely this one. This was my third time waking, the first time they let me wake I should say. I say “they” because I could vaguely remember hearing voices that the second time.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember anything they were saying.
Not that that would help me anyway.
There was only one thing that could help me now.
Time.
So I waited.
I’m not sure how long I stared at the window but as I did more and more light started to stream through it. Dawn was breaking slowly. More light meant that more of the morning was coming. I’m not sure how long it took, but eventually, I heard something. I turned toward the door and waited. There was someone on the other side, someone with heels. A second later, the door opened. A moment after that, a woman came into the room. I would say she was gorgeous if the circumstances were a bit different. I’m not going to lie though, she was very nice to look at. Maybe late twenties, early thirties. Her dark hair was nice and tidy, held away from her face in a professional style. She had horn-rimmed glasses, professionally done makeup and was wearing a fake smile. Having been pushed from person to person over the years, it was easy to spot a fake smile.
“Good morning, Cassidy,” she said in a friendly voice. “I’m Dr. Chambers. It’s very nice to finally meet you."
She walked toward the bed, those heels of hers clicking.
I watched her.
She was tall. The heels only added to her height. Her long legs were cased in dark nylons, leading to a professional’s gray skirt and finally a tight white blouse. She said she was a doctor but she didn’t dress like one. I almost wanted to say high-end call girl, but that would have been rude. It was hard not to think so though, especially with her top button undone. This woman was either trying to get attention or trying to make me feel comfortable. My mind was trying to say the former, but I knew it was the latter. These people had all but kidnapped me.
“I’d shake your hand, but I seem to be a little tied up at the moment,” I grunted.
She smiled her fake smile again. “We’re terribly sorry about that, but we needed to make sure that you weren’t a threat to yourself or others.”
A threat?
Why would I be a threat?
“Yes, because all foster kids are dangerous criminals,” I deadpanned, hoping for a response.
None came.
Instead, she retrieved a chair from the corner of the room and brought it to within a foot or so of the bed. Far enough away that I couldn’t reach her, but close enough. We played the silent staring game for a bit. I spent our silent stare-off trying to figure out what this woman, and by extension, the Spencers wanted with me. It was clear now that they weren’t my aunt and uncle. At least, I was pretty sure they weren’t. It was the little things that I missed. They never told me their first names for one thing. For another, they never really asked me about myself. Most of the stuff they knew, it was from my file. At first, I chalked it all up to the awkwardness of it all, but now I knew the truth.
They didn’t want to get to know me at all.
“So what was the plan?” I finally asked.
I surprised her with the question.
“Excuse me?”
I sighed. “The Spencers. If this was what they were planning all along, they could have done it at any time.” I said coldly, watching her face. I saw her eye twitch. I smiled and continued. “So what was their original plan?”
She smirked. “They said you were a smart boy. I suppose not underestimating you would have saved them some problems...”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
She sighed. “No, I didn’t. To be honest, there was no solid plan in place. The vacation would have continued as planned. You would have left Virginia Beach in the morning and drove to Richmond as planned. Your life would have been uneventful.”
I watched her as she talked. She was lying. When people lied, they had a Tell. Like in a game of cards. I was always good at telling when people were lying. It was one of the side effects of being in the system for as long as I have. I learned things. Dr. Chambers’ Tell was easy: she tapped her foot. It was a nervous gesture, but she only did it when she was talking. So it told me she was either afraid of me – not likely – or she was lying. I thought about calling her on it, but decided I’d let her think she was in control here.
“So in this supposed plan, where did you come in?”
She gave me a knowing smiled again. “I’m your psychiatrist."
“Of course you are.”
“Well someone needs to cure you of your water fear.”
Cure me? Was that what this was about? It made little to no sense though. She seemed like a very important person. I was strapped to a bed while talking to her. Clearly, there was more to this than just my fear of water. Yet she made a big deal out of curing me of it? Something didn’t add up. Well, a lot of things didn’t add up, but she could have told me anything. Why did she say she was there to cure my fear?
“Why me?”
It was the most important question of the hour.
“Why not you?” It wasn’t really an answer. “You’re young. You have a long, full life ahead of you. This fear is a crippling thing. I want to help you overcome it.”
I struggled to prove a point. “Is strapping down your patient a part of that therapy?”
“That was….out of my hands...”
Out of her hands? Which meant there was definitely more to this than I thought.
I was about to ask her more when we were interrupted.
There was a knock on the door. Before she could even turn toward it, two men came bursting into the room. They were large, dressed in black, with buzzed heads.
“What the hell is this?” she snapped, jumping to her feet. “I need more time, I haven’t even started!”
“You’ve said enough” snapped one, pushing her out of the way.
“He’ll hear about this!”
The pushy man scoffed. “Who do you think told us to stop you.”
“I was in the middle of the interrogation...”
The other guy laughed. “You think that’s what was going on? You think you were in charge here? You weren’t interrogating him at all, Doc. We’ve been watching. The punk has been in control the entire time.”
All eyes were on me.
I tried to shrug but couldn’t.
The Pushy guy moved over to me. “We’re moving you. You try anything...”
He held up a cattle prod.
“You understand?”
I nodded.
“Mr. Stewart, I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Dr. Chambers, trying to push some control again.
She wasn’t very successful. She tried to make her way over to me, but the other man stepped in her way. He wasn’t going to move either. He was too big for her to push too. In the end, she stopped trying. I had been convinced she was the one in charge here. It was clear now that she was just the middle man. She probably thought she was calling all the shots, but these two men really were. Them, and whoever it is they all really worked for. There were still a lot of things that I didn’t know. Chief among them was why they even wanted me in the first place.
I was a nobody.
And yet, there were a lot of them for just me.
Things didn’t add up at all.
“Doc,” said the other man, trying to be more civil. “We can take it from here. We’ll see you again on the boat.”
Boat?
Dr. Chambers looked at him intently. Then looked at me. “He will hear about this...”
She sounded like a spoiled child, angry about losing her favorite toy.
She then huffed and stomped out of the room.
Both men watched her go, shaking their heads as they did.
I watched too. First her, then them. They didn’t say anything but the one without the cattle prod walked over to the bed. He started to undo the straps holding my ankles. His partner, Mr. Stewart, kept the prod pointed at me. They both watched me like a hawk. At this point, I’m not sure I could run even if I wanted to. As soon as he removed the straps across my upper thighs, the feeling started to return to my legs. I hadn’t realized how tight they were until now. I’m not sure how long I’d been laying here, but my legs were numb. Running was definitely out of the question.
Mr. Stewart stepped closer when his friend started to unstrap my wrists.
“You try anything...”
I grunted. “I can’t feel anything...”
They ignored the comment.
They finally finished undoing my last strap. I sat up with a groan. My entire body hurt. Both men were a bit jumpy. I thought for sure I was going to get stuck by that thing. Instead, they stepped back and gave me a moment. I started to rub my sore wrists, then my ankles. Those things were way too tight. As I started to rub some feeling back into my legs they stopped me.
“Enough of that, we have a timetable.”
I was all but dragged off the bed. When my feet hit the ground, I almost fell to the floor. It told me one thing, I’d been strapped to that bed longer than a night. If I had to guess, I would say at least a day or two. I missed my Birthday. More than that though, I missed my daily talk with Tori. If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, she was probably in full-blown panic mode. It wouldn’t be long before there was a slew of men and women from different police forces looking for me. That still begged one question though. How long have I been missing? I knew it had to be at least a day, because the light from the window had grown lighter as the hours passed.
Was it the day after my birthday though?
Or the day after that?
I had no true way of knowing unless I asked.
“How long have I been here."
“Long enough.”
I was shoved forward but I stumbled. After all, I could barely stand. One of them cursed. I heard the prod and flinched. Nothing happened though. Instead, I felt a strong hand grab my arm and pull me along. It wasn’t any better, but at least with one of them holding me, I could sorta walk. I was half helped, half-dragged over to the door. A moment later it was open, and we were in a brightly lit hall. The light was overwhelming. I shielded my eyes with a hand. Now I knew I’d been in that dimly lit room for more than a day.
“Move it blondie!”
Blondie?
I was about to protest when we passed by one of the many mirrors in the hall. I stopped dead in my tracks, gasping. My hair was completely blonde now, but that wasn’t the only shock. It was long and wavy, past my shoulders and down my back. How was that possible? Hair didn’t grow that fast. Even in a few days. The length of my hair, it should have taken months.
“Move it!”
I was shoved again, this time I let them push me.
We moved along the hall until we passed another mirror. I caught another quick glance. My hair wasn’t the only thing that had changed. I couldn’t remember the last time my eyes looked that blue. There was something else. Did my face look softer? I didn’t get a good enough look though because I was shoved forward again. There was something wrong. Something that made no sense. Why did I look so different? Did they do something to me? I’d heard of some pretty extensive plastic surgery. I’d seen those shows. The problem was I had no bruises, no bandages. Didn’t things like that take a really long time?
We passed another mirror as we walked but I didn’t bother looking.
I didn’t want to see anything more.
Finally, we reached a set of elevators at the end of the hall.
They held me up as they called one, and the three of us waited impatiently. When it arrived they shoved me in. The interior of the elevator was a mirrored surface. I couldn’t avoid looking at myself now. They couldn’t push me around in here either. I watched as they pushed a button with an H on it. I assumed it represented the roof. Which meant they were probably flying me out of here. Which meant there was probably a helipad and a helicopter up there. I would have been more excited if not for the fact that they were kidnapping me. I tried not to think about it and concentrated on my reflection some more.
My face was different.
My nose was slightly smaller, my lips were bigger. Pouty, I think the phrase was. Everything was a bit softer. My scar was gone too. I used to have a tiny one on my chin, just below my bottom lip. I cut it on a piece of glass when I was four. Had to have a couple of stitches. I was amazed to see it missing. Had they done that as well? Was it even possible to remove scars like that? I squinted, leaning closer, wondering what else had changed. I reached up to touch my face when I noticed something else.
My bracelet was gone.
“Looking for something, princess,” scoffed one of the guards.
I looked at the reflective surface. My bracelet dangled in his fingers.
“Boss said I’m supposed to keep this safe,” he said with a laugh, sticking it in one of his pockets.
Why?
It was just a stupid bracelet?
Wasn’t it?
I didn’t get much time to dwell on it because the elevator finally came to a stop. The doors opened and I was pushed out onto the roof. A rush of air hit me, staggering me back for a second. Looking around, I saw familiar hotels. I was still in Virginia Beach. Trying to take a look around, I caught a glimpse of the Neptune and the park down below. They didn’t take me very far. I could even see the resort down there. I’m not sure, but I thought I saw the bungalow we stayed at. In fact, the Spencers’ car was still parked out front. It amazed me they were still there. It also told me something. It really had only been a few days. Which made no sense at all.
How did my hair grow so long?
How had my face changed so much?
I pushed across the roof, toward the helipad.
There was a shiny, black helicopter waiting. It had no markings that I could see, but it had one of those sides that had no door. I always thought those were really unsafe.
A man standing nearby came rushing off.
“Did you stick it yet?” he shouted, pointing at me.
“We were going to in air.”
The man didn’t look thrilled but nodded.
What did he mean, “It?”
That was kind of rude.
“Get in the helicopter!” shouted one of my guards, giving me a push.
I grunted, but did as I was told. The man followed me in, making sure he had the cattle prod close to my side. He wasn’t taking any chances. I still wasn’t sure why. How dangerous could a sixteen-year-old be? Did he actually think I could beat him up? He was bigger than I was, holding a pretty nasty weapon, and he had a friend. I was no match for any of them. Just as well, they seemed to be taking every precaution available. I mean the man who greeted us had a holstered pistol on his hip. What the hell was that all about? There was a guy in the front seat next to the pilot. I could see his gun as well.
Who were these people?
What did they want with me?
I wanted to ask questions, but I’m not sure any of them could hear me anymore over the whirring of the blades. They were putting on headsets, passing me one too. I was shouted at, so I put it on. I suddenly heard them talking:
“Where are we taking It?”
“The Mooring Gaul.”
“Is he serious?”
“He wants to talk to It first.”
“This is a bad idea!”
“He’s the boss.”
They stopped talking. The helicopter slowly started to lift off the pad. I couldn’t hide my excitement as we flew up into the air. We hovered over the building for a second before turning and flying toward the ocean. We flew over the tops of all the buildings, low enough that I could make out everything below. I was a bit nervous about being so exposed to the air like this though. I was strapped in, but I was still pretty scared about the lack of doors. I looked nervously at my captors. Only the two of them were in the back with me. Mr. Stewart and his less talkative friend. Stewart had the cattle prod and my bracelet.
I looked at his pocket and felt empty.
I shook it off.
I turned back to looking out the side as we flew. It didn’t take us very long to leave the beach behind us. We gained some altitude but not enough to be dangerous for us. A minute or so later, there was nothing but open ocean. Looking at all that water made me really nervous. It didn’t help that we were so high up either. I wanted to puke. My skin started to crawl and I felt a bit lightheaded.
“Where are we going?” I asked, barely able to get the words out.
“The boss has a yacht out there, he wants to see you.”
The boss.
“How far now?”
“ETA fifteen minutes,” said the pilot.
“Ok Stewart, enough of the bullshit, tag it now!” snapped the passenger.
Mr. Stewart sighed, passing his cattle prod to his partner. The partner passed him a little blue gun that looked like a squirt gun. He looked at me, shaking his head. A moment later, he grabbed my arm. Before I could even react, he put the little gun to my skin and pulled the trigger. There was a piercing pain. I cried out for about a second, then the pain was gone.
“What the hell was that?” I snapped, rubbing my arm.
He smirked. “Insurance.”
“Give me the thing to turn it on?” he said, setting the gun down and waving a hand behind him.
His partner handed him something that looked like a price tag scanner from a shopper’s market.
“Stick out your arm!”
I shook my head.
I had no idea what was going on, but I wasn’t letting them do anything more to me.
Mr. Stewart grunted. “Hold It still!”
His partner leaned forward, setting the cattle prod on the seat between us and made a grab for me. I’m not sure what came over me. I knew they were about to do something awful, and I reacted without thinking. One second I was pushing away from them and the next I was grabbing the prod. When I jabbed it into his shoulder and pulled the little trigger, I didn’t realize it was going to happen that quickly. The man screamed out in pain, snapped to the side and slammed into his friend. Mr. Stewart stumbled, I swung the prod around like a weapon and crashed him in the side of the face with it.
I heard a crack as a tooth flew from his mouth.
There was a scream from upfront. The man in the co-pilot seat fumbled for his gun, pulled it out and I stuck him in the arm with the prod. He screamed, fired a round through the roof and sent the helicopter sideways. The bullet sound ricocheted throughout the small pace, deafening all of us. The helicopter continued to spin about. It made a nosedive. The pilot was struggling to regain control. At this point, my two guards had recovered. They came at me together. I still had the prod though. I stuck one in the neck, giving him a nasty jolt. While he was stumbling back, I kicked out with both my feet. The force of the kick sent him backward.
And right out the side of the helicopter.
Oops.
The rushing air cut off his scream.
“You son of a bitch!” screamed Mr. Stewart, grabbing me.
He got my wrist, twisting my arm.
I screamed, dropped the prod.
The helicopter still canted about, tossing and turning. By this point my assailant was free of his seat-belt, trying to subdue me. He managed to get my belt free too. In a panic, I smashed the heel of my hand into his face. He screamed, losing his balance. While he was on the floor, I jumped on top of him. I smashed a fist into the side of his head, screaming like a maniac. The blow hurt but my adrenaline kept me going. I punched him again and again. He was barely conscious, his face a bloody mess. He gasped. I pushed away and reached for his pocket. I pulled out the bracelet, holding it tightly in my fist.
“Mine!” I shouted triumphantly.
I’m not sure why I wanted it so much, but once I held it, I felt better.
Almost powerful.
That’s when he shoved me.
I think it was meant to only push me off of him and it did. The thing was, I already didn’t have a great grip on anything. The helicopter chose that exact moment to swerve again. I tumbled backward. He was right with me, flailing. He grabbed me, trying to keep me from falling, but he didn’t have a great grip either.
Shit.
The next thing I knew, the helicopter was above us and we were tumbling away from it.
We spun in the air, facing the water below us.
I heard him scream as we got closer and closer.
I closed my eyes.
The seconds felt like an eternity.
I opened just in time to see the water inches in front of my face before I hit it.
Then nothing.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note: Here we are, FINALLY. Not only do we have a new picture---thanks to the lovely Miss Ginny Gardner---we also have no more male Cass. From this point forward, I generally refer to her as "Cass" as far as the story is concerned. This is pretty much where the rest of the story starts. Prepare for some exposition on some things in the next few chapters. I can also confirm that Ch.9 will be a chapter not from Cass's POV so that's something to look forward too :D. I'd once again like to thank Nyssa for her editing and ALL my readers for bearing with me until I got to this point :D. Quick Note: I forgot to add in her bracelet originally in this chapter, I amended things now that it appears. There were a couple of commenters who pointed it out, so thank you! :D.
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6.
There was no pain.
I thought when you died there was this excruciating pain then a bright light. There was no light either. Wait, no, that was wrong. I saw a light. It was above me. I was floating away from it though. The further I floated, the further away I got. Was it supposed to happen like this? I thought you were supposed to go toward the light when you died. Maybe I didn’t get the memo. Maybe I had one of those weird souls that shunned the light and I was falling further and further into the dark void. Maybe pretending to be an Emo all these years had damaged my eternal soul and this was my new lot.
Or maybe, I wasn’t really dying.
I stopped floating downward.
Reality slowly started to pull itself around me.
I wasn’t dead.
How was I not dead?
When people fell from really high places into water, they usually died. Their bones shattered, all their internal organs ruptured. I hit the water. I felt it. That should have been it. The world even went black around me. I should be dead but I wasn’t? I started to wave my hands about, they were moving. They were human hands, living hands. My hands. There was something different about them though. They looked smaller and my fingers were thinner, maybe a bit longer. They were webbed too. How did I get webbed fingers? There was something else too. I followed my hands down my arms. My thinner arms. I followed them to slender shoulders and my chest where…
Oh my God!
I grabbed them.
Two naked orbs of flesh on my chest.
This couldn’t be real.
How was this real?
I had breasts. By the feel of them, they weren’t small either. They were plump and firm and definitely very real. Squeezing them sent a tingle through my whole body. How was this possible? How was any of this possible? I let go of the breasts and wiggled my fingers. They were definitely mine. I opened my mouth to scream but stopped myself. I was underwater. I couldn’t scream. Wait, I was in the water. I started to panic, flapping around like a fool. I’d been so preoccupied about being alive and very different that I didn’t even realize where I was. This time I did scream.
I expected to drown.
I didn’t.
The water around me started to vibrate and I hard time keeping my eyes open.
Gasping, I put a hand over my mouth.
What the hell was going on?
Still in full on panic mode, I started to push my way toward the surface. When I kicked my legs though, something felt wrong. They felt numb. In fact, I couldn’t feel them at all. Looking down, I screamed again. My legs were gone. Where the hell were my legs? Where the hell did that come from? I reached down, running my hands across the scaly thing attached to my torso. It was greenish blue, shimmered in the water and looked almost like a tail. That was impossible though. Humans didn’t grow tails. Then again, boys didn’t grow boobs either.
Boobs and a tail?
I wanted to wrap my mind around it but I just couldn’t. I was too scared to think.
I would worry about all of it later.
Now I needed to get out of the water!
Pushing faster, I found that I easily glided through the water. I had no idea how far under the water I was but when I finally broke the surface I gasped. Throwing my head back, I felt my hair whip back behind me. It felt longer again. I would worry about that later too. Right now I needed to get my bearings. I started to tread water without even thinking about it. It was a weird thing. I didn’t even know how to swim and yet here I was doing it like a pro. It was as if any fear of the water that I had before had melted away instantly. I realized the panic attack from a few moments ago was something else entirely.
Something else I would think about later.
Right now…
I started to look around. I was in the middle of the ocean still. It was also pitch black. Night. Had I been unconscious that long or was it something else? The moon was directly overhead, it's light like a beacon. The air smelled crisp and the water was calm. It would be almost tranquil if I wasn’t so damn scared. Right, not now. I needed to figure things out first. The helicopter was long gone now. I half expected it to be a wreck somewhere nearby. It was in pretty bad shape when I fell from it. I think it was even smoking? I looked as far as I could see, wondering if I could spot it on the horizon. I stopped a few seconds later when I realized I didn’t know where the horizon was. Cursing, I chewed my lip. Without knowing where the horizon was, it was going to make it all that much harder to get back to the beach. That is if I actually wanted to go back. Sighing, I tried to think of my options.
I only had a few.
I could continue to stay out here in the water, being some kind of weird freak.
I could swim back to shore.
I could try swimming somewhere else.
They weren’t the greatest ones but they were all I had.
I immediately knew the first option was stupid. Sure I might be some kind of weird fish freak right now but I’m not sure how long that would last. As far as I knew I was hallucinating the whole tail thing anyway. Some kind of post-trauma shock. If that was the case, it was only a matter of time before that shock wore off. As soon as it did, I’d be a sitting duck out here. Not just from sharks either. Eventually, exposure and dehydration would get me. My third option seemed pretty stupid too. I had nowhere else to go. Which left me with option number two, going back to Virginia Beach. I cursed again. It wasn’t the greatest option but, it was the only true one I had. Once there, I could get my bearings straight and figure out my next course of action. Then maybe whatever shock I was in would finally wear off and I could truly panic about EVERYTHING.
I still had one problem though.
I still didn’t know how to get there.
Turning, I looked back the way I thought I came from. All of this was so disorienting. Everything out here looked the same. In the dark, it was hard to see anything. Except for the moon. It was my one constant. It looked so massive looming overheard. Its pale light was downright peaceful. In fact, I got so lost in that glow I almost didn’t hear the boat. It was coming in fast, the sound of the motor cutting through the stillness of the night. Cursing, I dropped below the waves. It was a good thing too because it stopped. A moment later, someone on board starting shining a light at the water. Underwater, I lingered just below the surface, hoping they didn’t notice me.
I think I managed to hide and for good reason too.
“You think it’s out there?” asked a voice, male.
There was a grunt in response. ‘We found Phelps and Stewart about a mile from here.”
“That was six hours ago,” said the first voice.
“The boss wants us to be thorough.”
Crap, it was them.
So they found the two guys from the helicopter, both presumed dead. Six hours ago though? Did that mean I’d been in the water that long? If so then why hadn’t I woken sooner? A mile from here too, which meant I somehow drifted. Or their bodies possibly did? Who the hell were these people? At first, I thought they were creeps, hellbent on doing some freaky shit to me. Now though I was starting to put two and two together. That doctor wasn’t the least bit fazed by the changes in my body from before, in fact, she never once mentioned them. I thought they did it to me, but now I was pretty sure I’d done it to myself. They knew about it too. They knew a lot of things. More things than I knew for sure.
That raised so many questions. I knew where to find the answers too. I was pretty certain that I wouldn’t like how these people gave them to me.
“This is a waste of time. We should try this in the morning when there’s more light.”
The flashlight beam left the water.
“Let’s just head back to shore. Tell them we found nothing.”
Yes, head back, please.
There was a bit of back and forth arguing, but eventually, the two of them started the boat again.
A moment later, they were on their way.
Taking a chance, I decided to follow it.
I took a deep breath and with only a slight thought, I surged forward. I was quickly amazed at how fast I was cutting through the water. I’d seen dolphins swimming on TV and movies. They always used to impress me. Especially because I was always too afraid to get into the water myself. I always wondered how something could move like that. Now here I was, moving very similarly. I was faster though, much faster. It was almost as if I was using the water itself to propel me forward. Shooting through it like a bullet out of a gun except I was losing no momentum as I went.
I was going so fast I almost eclipsed the boat.
I had to slow down to keep in its wake.
After twenty minutes of following it though, I couldn’t help but smile.
It wasn’t long before the boat started to slow. Taking a look, I saw other boats start to come into view. Many of which were moored. It had to be some kind of marina. I tailed the boat for a bit longer but soon realized that I didn’t want them to spot me. I decided to steer away from it, making sure to take note of it in case I ran into it in the daylight. I came to a complete stop a few seconds later, amazed at how quickly I was able to do so. I was amazed at other things as well. I went into full-blown swim mode without even thinking about it. It was almost as if all of it was second nature to me. Like I’d been doing it my whole life. I never once panicked either. About anything.
What was wrong with me?
I should be freaking out?
Why wasn’t I freaking out?
Not just about the whole half-fish thing either. I was a boy mere hours ago and now I was a girl. I had boobs, I should be going ballistic. Yet, I was totally calm about all of it. It made no sense. Not that growing a tail made much sense either. I was too freaked to think about it earlier but now I wanted to know what the hell was going on. A small part of me still wondered if these people had done something to me. It was clear they put some kind of tracker in my arm back on the helicopter, so they definitely wanted to keep an eye on me. It was also pretty clear now that they never got a chance to turn it on. I suppose that’s what I stopped them from doing when I went all postal cattle prod on their asses.
It made me realize there was still a lot about all of this I didn’t know.
Swimming to the surface, I made sure I stayed out of sight. At first, I thought about swimming up the marina and coming ashore there. Then two things suddenly struck me. The first being I didn’t have any clothes. In the water before, I had a vague recollection of being topless. I fondly remembered groping myself. Now it was becoming pretty clear that I didn’t have any clothes at all. Whatever I had been wearing before was long gone. That was the lesser of my two revelations. The bigger one was whether I could even leave the water anymore. As far as I could tell, I wasn’t human anymore. I had no more legs. I was a…
I sighed.
I couldn’t even bring myself to think it.
Just the idea of it was completely ridiculous.
I would have said downright crazy if I hadn’t seen it for myself.
I forced the thought from my head.
I had other things to worry about at the moment. Chief among them was figuring out how I was going to get on land with a tail. I’d seen a few movies, wasn’t there some kind of magic or something? Magic. I would have said something like that didn’t exist. That was, of course, before I spontaneously changed genders and grew a tail. I bit my lip. What I needed was a Fairy Godmother or something. I knew it sounded stupid, but at this point, I’d believe in anything. I closed my eyes and like an idiot starting to chant in my head: LEGS, LEGS, LEGS. When I opened them, I half expected it to work. I sighed when I still saw my tail. Well, it was worth a try I suppose.
That’s when I felt the tingle.
No way.
A second later, there was a slight burning sensation in my forehead.
Then I watched in awe as my tail slowly started to pull apart and grow into a pair of legs.
You’ve gotta be shitting me!
The tingling and burning sensation disappeared just as fast as it came.
I wiggled my toes, just to make sure.
A second later, I realized the tail wasn’t the only thing that changed. My fingers were no longer webbed and the bracelet was back around my wrist. Where did that come from? More importantly, where did that go? I shuddered. A second later, I realized something else.My confidence in the water was gone. It wasn’t the only thing either. I panicked. My hydrophobia was back. I started to kick and flail. My head went under. I screamed, sucking in a ton of water in the process. I pushed back up to the surface quickly, coughing. Shit. I felt the tingle again. My thrashing stopped a moment later as my legs transformed back into a tail. The panic was gone. I took a couple of deep, reassuring breaths. So that’s how it was. I wasn’t scared of the water as long as I was in this… “form”. I guess it made about as much sense as everything else.
I cursed.
Note to self: Change back closer to land.
I took a moment before I made up my mind.
Then I started to swim away from the marina a bit. There were too many lights and boats around. I didn’t want to transform with the potential of being spotted. The last thing I needed was to become a science experiment. I traveled down the beach a bit until I finally found a secure and dark place near a rock outcropping. It took a few tries but I pulled myself out of the water like Ariel. In the pale moonlight, I got my first out-of-water look at my new appendage. It was the freakiest thing ever. I ran my hand along my flat stomach, stopping momentarily where flesh and scale met. It was a weird thing. It shouldn’t be real. When I touched my tail, the scales were smooth and wet. The tail was warm to touch. I wanted to freak out, but I couldn’t. Everything felt so normal.
I closed my eyes a second later and willed the tail away again.
When I reopened them, I had a pair of legs.
Naked legs.
A cool ocean breeze hit me, whipping my hair about.
I shivered.
Naked everything.
Crap.
I needed clothes.
Double crap.
The problem with finding clothes on a beach was, well, a problem.
Especially at night.
I spent a good twenty minutes walking quietly along the shoreline. I was staying far enough away from the water so as not to have another panic attack. I was extremely embarrassed. It was like one of those dreams where you end up in school naked. Except this wasn’t a dream, it felt like a nightmare and there was no waking up from it. Thankfully, my hair was long enough that I managed to cover my breasts with it. I could do nothing about down below other than walk with my hand covering up that foreign bit. I tried my hardest not to touch it. I was scared of what might happen. I was scared about all of it actually.
I had some time to think too.
It was clear my new female body and the tail were connected.
I was also convinced that I was cursed.
It was the only possible explanation.
Or maybe I was dead after all.
It definitely happened after I fell out of the helicopter. A fall that apparently killed my assailant but didn’t kill me. A fall that left me unconscious for a little while, only to wake up underwater a mile from where I fell and a woman. It made no sense. It had to be a curse. Maybe I fell on a tribe of water fairies. Maybe I trespassed on sacred magical land. Maybe I made a dying pact with a Sea God? Each explanation was crazier than the last, but all of them made sense. Ok, so all of them were crazy but so was ALL of this. Boys don’t change into girls, especially girls who can grow tails.
I wanted to scream.
I almost did.
It was a good thing I didn’t.
I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I didn’t notice the fire.
It wasn’t that far away.
It wasn’t just a fire either.
There was a pickup truck parked on the beach. Next to it was a tent. Someone was having themselves a little camp-out under the stairs. Someone who probably had clothes. I bit my lip. I hated the idea of stealing from a stranger, but it was either that or find a Nudist Colony. Cursing, I slowly crept my way over to the little camp. As I got closer, I heard soft talking.
The camp’s occupants.
A man and woman.
I stopped for a second, hoping they weren’t somewhere about.
Then I realized their voices were coming from the tent.
“Lance, stop,” a girl grunted.
“C’mon, babe, I’m horny.”
I rolled my eyes.
Not what I wanted to hear.
I listened for a few seconds more as Lance tried and failed to get lucky tonight. As soon as I determined they were going to stay in the tent, I started to poke around their little camp. I started with the truck, but it was no luck. The flatbed seemed promising though. I found a duffle there, but upon further inspection, I realized it was full of Lance’s clothes. Clothes I would have been happy to find if not for the fact that they wouldn’t fit anymore. I cursed. I knew where her bag was, but I also knew there was no way I was getting in that tent. Sighing, I was about to give up when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I jumped.
I snapped around, prepared for anything.
“Whoa, sorry,” said a girl.
The girl from the tent.
When did she come out?
I took a step back, not sure what I was going to do now.
I was like a deer in headlights.
“You ok?” she asked in a soft, concerned voice.
I opened my mouth to say something, but instead, I found myself crying. I’m not sure why. A moment later, she was hugging me. It was a strange thing. She held me for a bit, telling me everything was going to be all right. I’m not sure what was happening. She led me over to the camp fire and held me until I stopped crying. I never realized how cold I was until I got close to the fire. After she was done holding me, I stared at the ground for a while.
“You want to tell me about it?”
It took me a few seconds to gather my thoughts.
I wanted to tell her everything but I knew I couldn’t.
So I lied.
“I was with this guy. We were having a good time. Then he wanted to skinny-dip, so I said sure. The next thing I knew...”
She squeezed my hand. “Men are creeps."
At that point, Lance decided to make an appearance.
“Whoa,” he said, seeing me sitting by the fire.
The girl rolled her eyes. “See what I mean.”
“Chloe...”
“Go back to the tent idiot,” she snapped, “And bring my bag!”
He rushed into the tent, bringing her bag a second later.
Then she made him leave again.
Behold the power of the blonde.
“We might not be the exact same size, but I think we’re close,” she said, pulling some things out of her bag. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”
“Cassidae,” I said without thinking.
“That’s pretty,” she said with a smile.
The clothes she handed me were not what I would call clothing. They were better than nothing though. I just never thought I’d be wearing a bikini. I turned away as I pulled up the bottoms. They were a bit snug but not too bad. I struggled with the top though. She giggled and helped me tie it in back. After that she handed me a pair of jean cut-offs and a tiny tank top. The shorts were snug too, and the top was definitely a bit too small. I squirmed for a few seconds then felt a tingle. A second later, everything fit perfectly.
What the hell?
She gave me a strange look. “Weird, I could have sworn you were a bit bigger...”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’s the dark?”
Or maybe it’s magic?
Did I shrink to fit the clothes?
Or did the clothes grow to fit me?
“Can I come out now?” asked Lance, poking his head out of the tent.
“As long as you’re not a lech."
He scrambled out of the tent.
Lance was the typical surfer, sandy blonde hair, a body crafted for the sun. My eyes lingered on his rippling pecs for a second before I realized I was staring, and quickly looked away.
Great.
“So who am I beating the shit out of?’ he asked, flexing.
Chloe rolled her eyes.
“No one,” I said quickly. “He’s long gone now.”
We sat around and talked for a bit after that. They offered me a ride into town in the morning. We got no cell reception on the beach so we couldn’t call from here. I was happy for the help and told them so. After that, they couldn’t stop talking about themselves. The two of them were in college. This was the end of their break before they had to head back home. Lance was a bit of a meathead, but Chloe was nice enough. She was a Biology major, coming to the beach was her idea. She thought it was awesome when I told her how to spell my name. After all, it’s not every day you meet someone named after a snail. We talked a bit more. They offered me one of their beers, but when I told them I was only sixteen, they both looked a bit sheepish.
After a while, we were laughing. It was a strange but nice distraction. Especially after the weird day, I’d been having. Not to mention the fact that I almost robbed these people. Not that I told them that of course. All throughout the laughing though, Chloe kept giving me strange looks. Like she knew something but didn’t want to say. I tried to ignore her, but it was starting to get a bit unsettling.
“Well that’s it for me,” said Lance, getting up.
He started for the tent.
“Nope,” said Chloe. “Tent is girls only, you can sleep in the truck!”
“Seriously?”
She gave him a look. He grunted and walked over to the truck, his head held low.
“You didn’t have to...”
“That boy needs to cool off, he’s too damn frisky. He and his hand will have a good night in the truck."
We both laughed.
It was strange. Chloe and Lance had accepted me so quickly. They didn’t even bat an eye when I showed up. Then she quickly started comforting me when I started to cry. I was a complete stranger and they helped me without even thinking. People surprised me sometimes. I’d been having such a hard time with everyone lately, first the Spencers, then Dr. Chambers and her people. Now here comes Chloe and Lance and they’ve been nothing but nice to me. I’d only known them for about an hour too. I didn’t deserve this. Any of it. I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move.
Chloe got to her feet, she held out a hand for me. “C’ mon, you can use my sleeping bag. In the morning, we’ll take you into town and you can get ahold of someone there."
I smiled.
So nice.
I let her pull me to my feet. As I she did, my hair flopped all over the place. I was never going to get used to that.
“I love your hair by the way,” she said with a giggle. “It’s so long, like a mermaid’s”
Mermaid.
The word that had been dangling over my head all night.
Was that really me?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note:Sorry about taking last week off from posting. I did it in my attempt to create a larger buffer between chapters but in the end that failed. I got caught up in another ongoing project and I didn't even touch Summer Tail. I plan to rectify that as soon as possible. I have a fairly good idea where I want to take this story. Its going to be a shorter one though. That was always my intention here. There will be enough of a resolution that I feel will satisfy most people. Thanks again to Nyssa for her wonderful editing :)
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7.
Something feels wrong…
Opening my eyes, I blinked. Where was I again? It took me a few seconds to register everything. Right, this was a tent. I was here because I turned into a mermaid and I had no clothes. That’s where Chloe came in. She and her boyfriend Lance were on the beach. I found them and she agreed to help me. Which brought me here. Sleeping in a tent with a beautiful blonde surfer girl only mere inches away from me. I should have been excited about that, but I found out last night that I wasn’t attracted to her in the least.
It was pretty unsettling.
It meant something else.
Something I did not want to think about.
Sitting up, I felt the foreign weight on my chest. That was something else I didn’t want to think about. I think the shock of it all wore off sometime last night. In fact, I’m pretty sure it happened the same time I realized I wasn’t attracted to Chloe. We just turned in for the night and she stripped to her underwear, telling me she usually slept that way. I expected to be embarrassed about being so close to an almost naked woman. I even braced for the inevitable hard-on that should have followed. When it didn’t, my new reality came crashing to the forefront. I was a girl now. I had boobs and a...well, not a penis. Everything about my life was going to be very different from now on and I still didn’t know how it happened.
It was a very eye-opening night.
I barely slept.
Just when I finally thought I was asleep, I woke up.
Life sucks.
Though not as bad as going bra-less.
I groaned, feeling the weight.
Why were these so big?
I felt a slight tingle. Then watched in awe as my breasts got smaller. Not tiny small but small enough that they weren’t such a nuisance. I blinked, touching them to make sure I didn’t just see things. It happened though. I don’t know breast sizes, but it was clear they were at a more manageable size. Like last night. I thought I’d imagined Chloe’s clothes shrinking to fit my body. Now I realized that it wasn’t the clothes but me. Somehow I’d managed to make my body fit her clothes. Whatever I did must have worn off last night while I slept because things felt uncomfortable again.
There was another tingle and whatever discomfort I got from the clothes was gone.
Well then…
Neat trick.
What did that make me?
I was clearly some kind of mermaid thing. That was pretty obvious what with the tail, webbed fingers and the underwater breathing. It felt like something right out of a Disney cartoon, minus the purple seashells on my new boobs. My boobs. That was still something I never thought I’d say, let alone think. Taking a peek down at my new chest, it was hard not to ignore them. It was hard not to ignore any of it. Something was wrong with me, something I’m not sure anyone could explain. What happened to me did not happen to normal people, and yet here I was, suddenly a girl.
It made no sense.
Movement drew my attention away from my chest. I turned and saw Chloe begin to stir. I silently cursed. I was hoping to be out of here before she woke up. I didn’t want to be rude, but the longer I stayed with them, the more lies I would have to tell. It was never good to keep on lying. Especially for me because I was no good at it. I was lucky to get this far on the ones I told last night. As it was, if I continued to stay here, eventually one of them was going to figure out how stupid I sounded.
She sat up, giving me a friendly look.
“You been watching me?” she asked with a friendly smile.
“No. Just woke up. Trying to work out what I’m going to do next.”
She brushed some hair from her face.
It was a great face. I never really stopped to appreciate her last night. She was gorgeous. Bright green eyes, pale blonde hair, a small smattering of freckles across her nose. She was the type of All-American girl one might expect to find on the beach. Mother Nature had been kind to her too. Though not as kind as she was to me. After all, her clothes were too small for me.
She gave me a funny look. “Did my clothes fit you like that last night?”
“Yes,” I lied, turning away.
Had she noticed?
I’m not even sure how I shrunk to fit them.
All of this was new and scary.
It was getting scarier by the minute too.
As was the awkward silence.
It was thankfully interrupted by Lance shouting for us. Chloe left the tent first; I crawled out a few seconds later. As soon as I did, I had to shield my eyes from the bright morning sun. Standing up, I brushed sand from my knees. I stretched and turned toward the ocean. I felt a tingle. For a second I thought it was my imagination. The longer I stared at the water, the more I wanted to pull off all my clothes and jump right in. It was almost like there was a supernatural force pulling me toward the waves. I found myself stepping toward it. One foot in front of the other. I couldn’t stop myself. I was almost there when I felt a hand on my arm.
“Hey, you ok?”
Chloe.
I snapped out of whatever stupor I’d been in.
I blinked.
“Yeah, I was just admiring the ocean."
She smiled, taking my hand. “It’s really great. It’s my first time seeing it. Well, at least the Atlantic.”
She started to talk about growing up out west and moving east a few years ago.
When she mentioned New York, I laughed.
“That’s where I’m from too.”
She smiled. “Small world, huh?”
She started talking about her hometown a bit. I only half paid attention though. I know it was rude but I couldn’t help but stare at the water. I did hear her say something about cows. I could only nod my head to it though. New York had a lot of cows and apples. She started talking about the family business when Lance shouted at us again.
“Can you guys stop yapping and help me!”
Chloe stopped talking and rolled her eyes.
“A real charmer that one, girls must be flocking to him…,” she said annoyed.
I was confused. “Wait, I thought...”
She laughed. “Only in Lance’s dreams. No, he’s my lab partner. He definitely wants to be more, but every time he tries, I just remind him that my girlfriend could kick his ass.”
Girlfriend? I was not expecting that.
She saw my confusion and only laughed more.
“C’mon, let’s help him pitch camp before he starts whining.”
It didn’t take us long to break down the tent and deal with their fire pit.
Then we were on the road back to town.
Back to whatever for me.
“You sure you want us to drop you off here?”
We were near the entrance to Neptune Park. I could see the statue from the truck. The only answer I gave Lance’s question was a quick nod. Then I climbed out of the cab. Lance stayed behind the wheel but Chloe followed me. This was all part of my “plan”. After arriving back in civilization, I used Chloe’s cell to make a call. I lied and said I was calling a friend. In truth, I called my own cell phone. It didn’t ring, which didn’t surprise me in the least. Wherever it was, it was probably not charged. Calling it though was enough of an illusion for them. When I hung up and told them I’d meet my friend here, they seemed to accept it. Which made me happy because I was tired of lying. I also didn’t want to get them involved with whatever it was that I was involved with. I certainly didn’t want to be involved in it. I didn’t even know what “it” was. All I really knew was that my “aunt” and “uncle” clearly weren’t who they said they were, and I was kidnapped. The group, and the doctor responsible, worked for someone else and now I’m pretty certain they knew what I was from the beginning.
Whatever that was.
There were far too many questions and no answers.
“You ok?” asked Chloe, gently touching my elbow.
It was a weird feeling. I’d only known her less than twenty-four hours and yet a total stranger seemed to have actual concern for me.
It was a new feeling.
Not unwelcome though.
“I’m good,” I said, lying again.
I needed to stop doing that.
Chloe turned to Lance. “I’ll be a minute or two.”
He looked annoyed but didn’t say anything.
She followed me away from the truck, toward the statue. For a few moments, neither of us said anything. She sat with me on a bench. I started fidgeting. Suddenly I felt really nervous. It had nothing to do with being close to the water either. I’m not sure, but I think it was Chloe. There was suddenly something about her, something that I’m not sure if I should be scared of. It was hard to pinpoint. I’m not even sure why I was feeling this way either. When I turned to look at her, it was almost as if those green eyes of hers could bore into my very soul. It was an unsettling feeling, but it was comforting too.
It’s also how I knew that she meant me no harm.
She sighed. “You’re a terrible liar by the way. Back at the beach, just now”
I gasped in surprise. “I didn’t...”
She patted my knee. “I understand, it’s ok. We all have our secrets. Trust me. You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” I nodded, she sighed. “Not from a boyfriend either. You’ve got some heavy shit on your plate. Trust me, I’ve been there too. Which of course makes this all the more difficult because I’d really like to help, but something keeps telling me I need to stay away. Which really pisses me off...”
She looked angry and for a moment, she glared at the sky?
She fell silent for a few seconds.
Then she bit her lip. A second after that, she took out a cash receipt then wrote something on the back. “This is my number,” she said, pushing it into my hand. “I’m not supposed to do this but you really do need help. So when the shit really hits the fan, I want you to call me, ok?”
I nodded, not sure what she was talking about.
“Lance and I will be in this area for the rest of the week…,” she said as she stood up.
I found myself standing with her.
She grabbed me, pulling me into a hug. “Take care, and watch your back,” she said gently in my ear then quietly added. “And trust her but only her.”
What?
She pulled away and smiled.
Then with that, she walked back to the truck.
“Wait!” I shouted, more confused than ever. “Who are you?”
She smiled. “I’m Nobody.”
Then she climbed into the cab and the truck pulled away.
Leaving me alone again.
I blinked.
There was something about that girl, something very strange. About as strange as me. I sat on the bench for a while, thinking about her. Then thinking about me. I was lost now. I had no money, no ID and the only clothes I had were the ones on my back. Everything I owned was gone now. My life was gone. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. There weren’t a lot of options at this point. I could try to get back to Grover. Without any money though, I’d probably have to hitchhike. It was something I might have considered before, but now that I was female, it was a scary thing to think about.
The other option was just as crazy.
Going to the Mitchells.
For one, I had no idea what their address was. I never wanted to know. I knew it was an island, and it was somewhere around here. When Tori told me I wasn’t very far the other day, I was surprised. Even if I did somehow manage to get there, I had no way of explaining who I really was. I mean, it’s not every day that your former male foster child comes knocking on your door as a teenage girl. Not to mention that once again I had no real means of getting there.
This sucked.
It really sucked.
Something else really sucked too.
I had to pee.
I’d been trying to avoid it for so long. The urge started on the ride over. I just didn’t have enough courage to ask for them to stop. Now I couldn’t deny it any longer. Cursing, I started to make my way to the little bistro across the street. It was some kind of Italian transplant, one that thankfully had a public restroom. When I reached the women's bathroom though, I couldn’t seem to step inside. I took a deep breath. It’s just a bathroom. It’s not like I was going to get arrested for stepping inside. Building up my courage, I found myself opening the door and sighing. See, I didn’t burst into flames.
I found a stall quickly though.
It was a bit weird not seeing urinals.
With my eyes closed, I finally peed.
Talk about weird.
Then, with a quick wipe and flush, I rushed to the sink. I wanted to get this over as fast as possible. The thing is, everything went into slow motion when I saw my reflection. I paused, mesmerized. The girl staring back at me was gorgeous. I could barely believe that it was me. I’d always had soft, feminine features, but I grew to ignore them and, for the most part, I learned to hide them. Most people didn’t look at the face of the strange emo boy as he walked by. The girl in the mirror was going to get a lot of attention. Those bright blue eyes, those kissable lips... I reached up and touched my face. My skin was so soft. I brushed away some hair. It was much longer now and a lighter shade of blonde. I opened my mouth, even my teeth were nice and shiny.
This was unreal.
It was as if whatever changed me had made me into the most beautiful girl it could.
I was scared.
I still had no idea what was going on or how this happened.
Grunting, I splashed some water into my face.
As soon as it touched my face, I felt a tingle.
Smiling, I left the bathroom.
Sticking my hands into my pocket, I found the slip of paper that Chloe gave me. There was something else with it, something I hadn’t noticed. Unfolding it, I found a pair of twenties. When did she do that? I would have protested if I’d seen them, but as it was, it was a nice gesture. Especially because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had something to eat and drink. I knew I probably couldn’t afford the food at the bistro, but I found a food cart not too far down the street. I bought a couple of hotdogs and a bottle of water. I never thought something could ever taste this good.
Now that all three of my base needs were taken care of, I had to think of other needs.
Like shelter.
I had about thirty bucks left now.
Not enough for a hotel room.
I’m sure this place had a shelter somewhere, but I didn’t like my chances.
I thought while I walked.
I didn’t really know where my feet were taking me, but soon I was leaving the boardwalk and onto to the beach. Before long, I realized where I was walking. The resort. Why had I walked back here? I didn’t have my room key, and of course, at this point, my stuff was probably long gone. I had a hollow pit in my stomach thinking about losing that laptop. Especially because it was the only true way I could contact Tori. She was probably having kittens by now. If I knew her, the Coast Guard was probably out looking for me. Thinking about it made me smile, but reality quickly set in. Without my laptop and phone, that part of my life was gone.
There was the other problem too.
How would she recognize me now?
I mean, I didn’t exactly look like her brother anymore.
I sighed.
It was hopeless.
Being here was pretty hopeless too. It’s not like…
Wait.
Is that the Spencers’ car?
I stopped walking and stared in awe. Yeah, no doubt about it. That was their car and it was still parked at the bungalow. It made no sense though. Why were they still here? I mean, I thought I saw it from that helipad days ago, but I thought for sure they’d be gone by now. Then again, why would they? For all, I knew they were just on vacation. Sure, they drugged me and let Dr. Chamber’s people take me but I wasn’t sure how much involvement they had in all of this. They were bad people, but were they THE bad people? I bit my lip. I took a step toward the bungalow, keeping low and out of sight.
There were no lights on inside.
Cursing, I tried the door.
It was unlocked.
Are you kidding me?
I opened it up slowly, taking a slight peek inside. I couldn’t see anyone, but then again it was dark inside. I risked opening the door more to take a better peek. No, there was definitely no one inside. I bit my lip. Fuck it! I pushed the door open all the way and slipped inside. I still kept low, making sure it wasn’t some kind of ambush. I stayed near the door, ready to run just in case. I sat there for at least ten minutes, waiting in stealthy silence. Finally, when I was sure no one was waiting in the dark, I stood up. I let out a sigh of relief, closing and locking the door behind me.
Not worth the risk.
Stepping into the main area of the place, I was surprised to see everything where it was left. Almost as if the Spencers just left everything in a rush. You know, drugging a kid and dragging him out of the place, that probably didn’t leave a lot of time to pack. I looked around further, finally spotting what I wanted with a smile. I rushed over to my carrier bag, clutching it to my chest. Opening it up, I pulled out my laptop and sighed. It was still here. I had no reason to doubt it, but who knew? Ignoring it for a second, I rummaged in the side pocket where I found my phone. It still had a little charge left.
I checked my messages.
No surprise, there were well over thirty from Tori.
I skimmed them.
At first, she was friendly, then confused. That confusion turned to concern, then downright panic.
I felt a hollow ache in the pit of my stomach.
Poor Tori.
I thought about firing off a text, telling her I was Ok, but second-guessed it.
I’d seen the movies, I knew how these people worked.
That’s why I also knew being in here was probably a very bad idea. Sure, everything was left right where they left it, but that didn’t mean they weren’t coming back. No, the faster I was out of here, the better.
I slung the bag on my shoulder and rushed into the little bedroom area I never got a real chance to sleep in. I found my bag sitting on the bed where I left it. I rushed over, unzipped it and rummaged inside. At this point, I knew the clothes were worthless to me. They weren’t what I was after though. I always took any the cash I ever earned, rolled it up with a rubber band and never spent a cent. I stuck it in the bottom of the bag, inside a sock. I smiled when I found it, pulled it out and stuffed the wad of cash in my pocket. There were a couple hundred dollar bills there I think. Not a great fortune but enough to run with.
With my cash in hand, I dumped my clothes.
I took the empty bag and went back into the main room.
I raided the mini-fridge.
In fact, I cleaned it out.
Those bastards deserved it.
I took a quick look at their bags, wondering if they had any cash. Knowing them though, it was probably all credit cards. I was tempted for a second, but realized how stupid that was. Credit could be traced. It was Dumb Criminal 101. It was a very easy way to get caught.
Finally satisfied, I hefted my second bag on my shoulder. I turned around to head out the door only find it blocked by a figure.
A second later, the lights in the room came on.
I froze, like a deer in headlights.
“Well, you certainly are prettier than we thought,” said Mrs. Spencer with a smile.
I looked from her to the door beyond.
I thought about running, but I didn’t like my odds.
Especially with that pistol resting against her thigh.
Shit.
She smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Cassidy,” she said sweetly. “Though I’m not sure if that name is appropriate for you anymore. I’m sure we can give you another.”
“What is this?” I snapped. “What did you do to me?”
She chuckled. “Me? I did nothing. We did nothing. This is all, you honey.”
She turned her head slightly. I made a step toward her but she raised the gun, wagging it back and forth. “We have her. She sprang the motion sensors at the bungalow.”
Motion sensors?
I looked around quickly but saw nothing.
Shit, who were these people?
“I told you it was smart to keep this place up and running.”
When she spoke, her voice had an edge to it. She was completely different from that sweet woman from all those days ago. It wasn’t just her voice either. Her whole demeanor had changed. Gone was the plain soccer mom. In her place was someone severe and not to be messed with. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, she had dark eye makeup and a sneer. It matched well with her skintight leather pants and snug tank-top. This was the type of woman that a man might fear trying to pick up in a bar. Her transformation was surprising though I couldn’t help but wonder which one was the true disguise.
“Yes, I’ll secure her and make sure the chip is working this time,” she said, annoyed.
Chip?
I started to scratch my arm.
Finally, she turned to me, glaring. Her conversation was clearly over because all her attention was back on me.
“You cost me a lot of money you know,” she waved the gun at the couch. “Sit, we’re going to be keeping each other company again for a while."
I didn’t have much of a choice so I walked over to the couch and sat.
She kept the gun on me as she sat in the armchair across from me, staring.
“It’s really remarkable. When they told me about it, I didn’t believe them. Then they started showing me some of the camera feed from the penthouse. I saw some of this change...”
“Who are you?”
She scoffed. “No one important.”
“Then why do this?”
She shrugged. “Money."
I guess I wasn’t that surprised. “I was a job then?”
“A very well paid one, or it should have been anyway...”
I didn’t like the way she was glaring still.
“So if securing me was a job, then who paid you?”
She smirked. “Don’t let the good looks fool you, kid. This isn’t my first rodeo. I know what you’re doing, trying to get me to spill the beans about all of this. But I’m not falling for it. I’m a lot more trained than that...”
I looked at her bare arms. They were toned but there were no distinguishing marks. That told me she wasn’t military or at least any military that would advertise itself.
Was this training or something else?
I took a stab in the dark.
“You don’t know, do you?”
Her fidget was enough.
She had no more idea of what was truly going on than I did. It made sense I suppose. Hire a private contractor to do your dirty work for you. I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what they all were. Some kind of private firm, maybe even security for hire. That told me whoever was fitting the bill had a lot of money to throw around. I mean, there were helicopters and automatic weapons involved. Not to mention the motion sensors and hidden cameras. Someone was going very far out of their way and all for me. I might have been flattered if I wasn’t so damn terrified.
This kind of thing reeked.
“It’s my turn for the twenty questions,” she said, smirking. I shrugged. “So what are you?”
I shrugged again. “Damned if I know. I fell out of a helicopter, woke up like this.”
She scoffed. “Fine, keep your damn secrets...”
They weren’t secrets though.
I had no idea who or what I was.
I was hoping that she might have the answers.
She licked her lips, ready to ask a few more questions when there was a knock on the door. She gave me a surprised look, then went toward the door. “That was faster than I thought."
She stood up, holstering her gun.
She stomped to the door, clearly annoyed that her “interrogation” was being interrupted.
“About damn time…,” she said, pulling open the door.
I had a good view of the door from my seat. What I saw was not at all what I expected. There was a girl there, blonde, wearing a rash shirt and jean shorts. That wasn’t what shocked me the most though. It was that I knew this girl. From the other day, at the Neptune statue. Mrs. Spencer blinked, trying to go for her gun. The girl was fast, faster than I could follow. I saw her lash out, landing a blow to my captor’s throat. It was so quick though. One minute Miss Bad-Ass-Leather-Pants was standing on her two feet, the next she was in a crumpled heap on the floor.
The blonde girl smiled, stepping over her as she walked into the room.
She looked at me. “There you are!” she said with a happy smile. “See, I told you I’d catch up with you later.”
My mouth hung open in shock.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note:I wish I had some great explanation or excuse why I didn't post this chapter last week but I really don't. Honestly I got wrapped up in other things and forgot about it. Life sucks.
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8.
“Is she dead?”
My shock had finally worn off. I looked from the pretty surfer girl to the nasty mercenary on the floor at her feet. She wasn’t moving. I’d never seen anything like that. One punch and the bitch was down. It was so fast. She barely had any time to react at all. The girl turned her head slightly, looking down and shook her head.
“No, she’ll live,” she frowned.
She almost sounded disappointed.
I stared at her, then at the merc, and finally back to her.
What the hell was going on?
Who was this girl?
How did she know where to find me?
How did she even know who I was?
I mean, we met before I turned into a girl. It was only briefly too. Back then I thought it was one of those crazy random things. You know, like in a rom-com or something. Now that I thought about it though, it seemed a bit out of the ordinary. Some strangely beautiful girl just happens to stop and talk to me, awkward emo kid? Then she’s the one that points out the creepy guy across the street who was staring at me. The same creepy guy that she decided to get rid of for me. I shook my head. There was no way any of this was coincidence.
It was like a light bulb.
“That creepy guy from the boardwalk...”
She sighed. “Not with them. Good guess though. I’m sorry about that, by the way. He gave me the slip and before I knew it, he was back after you...”
So she did try to get rid of him.
That still explained nothing.
“Who was he?”
She shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say a Fed...”
A Fed? As in the government?
“Why would the government want me?!”
She smiled, then winked.
She didn’t say anything though. Instead, she directed all her attention back to the unconscious woman on the floor. Without even batting an eye, she bent over and lifted her off the ground. She dead-lifted her, throwing her onto a shoulder like she weighed nothing. I stood there with my mouth open again. As she started toward the bathroom, she shouted,
“Get the door and find something to tie her up with!”
I stood still for a few seconds.
Then reality came rushing back to me. I snapped to action without even thinking about it. I rushed forward and slammed the door, locking it for the second time. Then I began my desperate search for something to tie up a person. It was strange really. I wasn’t even sure why I was even doing it. This was my chance, after all. I could just grab my bags and bolt out the door. I had money now. I could be at the bus station and out of town in a few hours. Then I could put all of this behind me.
And yet, I wasn’t making any attempt for the door.
It took me a few seconds to register that I was staying before I started looking for what she asked. I’d seen this done in movies several times. I tried the lamps first, trying to see if I could pull the cords free. I couldn’t. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. I moved on to the bedsheets, wondering if I could rip them into strips. When that didn’t work, I looked for shoe laces. I groaned. There were no shoes? How could there be no shoes in this place? Defeated, I sat on the bed. I tried to weigh my options. I kept striking out and it was starting to frustrate me. In a last ditch effort though, I started looking through the suitcases left behind. I was surprised by what I found. I knew what I thought I might find – clothes, but when I opened one after another, there were no clothes to be found.
In one I found a really nice looking camera.
I didn’t know much about those kinds of things, but it looked pretty high-end.
In another, I found a brand new laptop. There were a few other things I didn’t recognize, but something I did. It was a bundle of zip ties. I’d seen those in movies a lot too. Picking them up, I absently rubbed my wrists. It didn’t take me long to realize that they’d been for me. I was slowly starting to piece things together and hated what I came up with. It was clear whoever the Spencers worked for had a bigger plan than I thought. One that involved me from day one. I’m guessing they were the first part of it. I was still a little rusty on all the details but the zip ties here confirmed some of it.
Drugging me hadn’t been a spur of the moment thing.
They planned it.
After I was out cold, they must have used these to secure me, then Dr. Chamber’s goon squad hauled me off to that pent house. The rest of it was pretty obvious. The one thing I was still missing was the Why. I was a nobody and yet they were all going out of their way for me. Not just them either. The government, this new girl from the statue, hell even Chloe to an extent. The thing was, I was completely clueless. I felt like I was walking into the theater with the movie half over. I missed the beginning and the ending was a complete mystery. It was a scary unknown that I’m not sure I wanted to see.
It was getting scarier by the second too.
“Hey, Cassidae, you find something?”
Crap.
“Yeah,” I said, running to the bathroom with ties in hand.
When I got there, Mrs. Spencer was lying in the tub, still unconscious. Her breathing was shallow but she was still very much alive.
“Oh nice,” said my Mystery Savior as she took the ties from me.
I watched as she flipped the merc over and securely tied her hands behind her back.
“We’re not going to kill her now are we?”
She gave me a weird look. “You’re obsessed with death.”
I scoffed. “Not really. I’m just...”
“We don’t kill needlessly. Too many bodies equals too many questions.”
Questions, right.
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Our people.”
The way she said “our” surprised me. Did she mean her and me?
“What do you mean, ‘our people’? Do you know what’s going on here? Do you know who or what I am?”
She smiled, patting my cheek. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Right now though, I need to know how much this bitch knows.”
I opened my mouth to say more but this girl ignored me.
Instead, she turned back to our captive. She leaned down close to the woman’s ear and whispered something into it. No, not whisper. It was more like blowing. Except I could swear I heard a melody to it. A moment or two later, Mrs. Spencer opened her eyes. My Mystery Savior flipped her over, allowing her to sit up. Mrs. Spencer stared at us but there was something off about her stare. It was glassy, almost as if she was drugged. She looked at me but it was like she was looking through me too.
“Now then. Why don’t we start simple first? How about your name?”
“Zoe Trent,” said my fake aunt, her voice raspy and forced.
It was clear the merc was trying hard not to answer.
Whatever my surfer friend did to her, it was as if she was forcing her to tell the truth.
“Now, Miss Trent, who do you work for?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I never met them. I only dealt with the doctor.”
“You mean Chambers?”
Zoe nodded.
I was impressed. This girl knew a lot.
“Tell me about Dr. Chambers. Where is she now?”
Zoe talked for a good twenty minutes. Most of the questions she didn’t have answers for. She told us a lot though. She didn’t know where Chambers was. She’d only been to the penthouse once, but it was abandoned now. Compromised. After I escaped, I threw a wrench into their plans. They were scrambling to piece things back together now. My escaping had caused them some unwanted complications too. It forced their time table. I quickly found out that it wasn’t the only thing that forced their time table. Apparently, we were supposed to stay in Virginia Beach for a few more days. Then we would go back to Richmond. There was a house there. I was to spend time with them, learn to trust them, then they’d take me to Chambers. She would have acted like a psychiatrist; one meant to cure my hydrophobia. The eventual plan would have been done slowly. Lull me into a false sense of security for as long as it took, then they would have brought me in. Drugging me had always been Plan B. A plan they had to put into play after the authorities brought me home. It was unwanted attention they didn’t need.
My Mystery Savior perked up at the mention of the yacht. The very same one I was meant to be taken to in the helicopter.
“This yacht, do you know the name of it?”
“Something Gull,” she mumbled.
“Mooring,” I said, remembering.
My Savior cursed. “Fucking bastard, I should have known.”
“You know who owns it?”
She scoffed. “So do you. So does everyone!”
I was confused.
“How can I know...”
“Charles Bishop,” she said the name like it was the most vile thing in the world.
Wait, what?
I knew it of course.
She was right. Everyone knew it. He was a billionaire. One of the most famous people around in fact. He owned everything. It made no sense though. Charles Bishop was a good man. He was a philanthropist, not a kidnapper. He was always on the News, donating money to charities, kissing babies. That kind of thing. I always felt he was a little slimy and fake but I never suspected he was a criminal mastermind or whatever. I just coudln’t wrap my mind around it. Why would a man like him be interested in a nobody like me?
“I don’t understand...”
She sighed. “It’s about your Mum, kiddo.”
My Mom?
How could this be about my mother?
She abandoned me. She left me on the doorstep of a nunnery. She left me to this horrible life and disappeared off the face of the Earth. She was dead too. Though I’m pretty sure that was a lie. It was clear that pretty much everything those people said to me was a lie. I suddenly HATED myself for starting to believe them. Of course they were liars. It was all too convenient. Too good to be true. Here it was all over again. Another person with another story.
“I’ve heard lies before,” I said bitterly, crossing my arms.
She shook her head. “No lie this time. Bishop and your Mum go way, way back. He manipulated her, tried to use her. He almost succeeded too. Your Mum got away though. She got you away too. Bishop didn’t stop looking though. But we were always one step ahead of him. He wasn’t going to stop though, so we made a decision. We left you with the nuns. It wasn’t easy and it nearly destroyed her, but she knew her time here was growing thin. It was a desperate choice; the only one you see...”
“Why? Who are you? What am I?”
She smiled, taking a step toward me, gently touching my hair.
“My name is Eilish. I’m your aunt. Your real aunt.”
My aunt?
I looked at Zoe in the tub.
“I’ve heard that one before.”
“This is the truth. I promise. I could never lie to you. I can prove it in time. Once we’re safe and away from here. I’ll show you. I’ll show you everything. All our secrets.”
There she goes, saying “our” again.
Like she knew something I didn’t.
“You know what I am?”
She nodded. She took a step closer to me. She reached out and reached for my wrist. At first I thought she was going to grab my hand, but instead she touched the bracelet on my wrist. The red beaded one. The one that I was sure that Brit gave me, but I couldn’t remember. When she touched it though, I felt something. It glowed slightly and I felt a soothing calm rush over my body. Then she reached up and pulled something out of her shirt, a red beaded necklace. The very same one she showed me before.
“This is the source of our power, our mana flows through these beads.”
I touched my bracelet.
Power? Mana?
This was crazy.
It would have been even crazier if I wasn’t a boy who turned into a girl with a tail.
Now I could pretty much believe anything.
“This is my power?” I asked, holding up my wrist.
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “It changed you….”
Changed me?
So this bracelet was responsible for everything. This thing. I felt a surge of anger. It ruined my life. I grasped it, determined to tear it from my wrist. As soon as I made a grab for it though, she grabbed my wrist. She glared at me. I tried to pull free but I couldn’t. She was strong, stronger than she looked. My anger flared again but I still couldn’t break free from her grasp. I struggled but after a few seconds I gave up, realizing it was probably pointless.
“You can’t fight this. You can’t run from it. You need to embrace it. It's who you are now”
“I don’t...”
She frowned. “Neither did I. Neither did your Mum. It happened though. We learned to live with it. So will you. It will take time and a lot of patience, it's not...”
She stopped and snapped around toward the bathroom door. I looked too, but she was already heading out of it. I rushed to keep up with her, wondering what the hell was going on. In the main living area, she pointed toward the window. I gave her a confused look but did as she asked. Walking slowly over, I parted the curtains a tad bit to take a look. What I saw made my heart sink. There were at least three dark colored SUVs out there, each with black tinted windows.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what and who they were here for.
I cursed.
“It was only a matter of time,” snapped Eilish. “I thought we’d have more though. It turns out I underestimated them again...”
She quickly made her way to the bathroom, I followed on her heels.
Zoe was still sitting there, just as we left her.
“Are you going to kill her now?”
She gave me a look but all but ignored me. Instead, she walked over to our captive, bent down so they were face to face and blew on her again. This time though, I was sure I heard something. It was definitely a melody, almost like singing. It only lasted for a few seconds and when it was over, Zoe’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she slumped over, unconscious once again.
“I charmed her,” she said at my blank look. “It's a kind of magic we can do. It's how I got her to tell us everything. And no, I didn’t kill her. She’s asleep now and will be for awhile. It's good news for us. When she wakes up, she won’t remember the last hour or so.”
“Charmed?”
It still sounded like she was speaking in riddles.
I was still no closer to the truth than I was before.
“What does that even mean?”
I never got an answer. A second later, a small green cylinder came crashing through the window. It immediately started spitting out smoke. Eilish was quick. As soon as it hit the ground, she snatched it up and threw it back out the window. The shit, as they say, hit the fan from there. The door smashed open and two men wearing black tactical gear came bursting into the room. They were carrying automatic weapons, clearly looking for a fight. She gave them one too. She went straight at them, almost faster than I could follow. The first one through the door was dropped instantly with a swift kick to the head. The other managed to raise his gun before she grabbed his arm, smashed his elbow up at a wrong angle, then flipped him over her shoulder with a crunch.
From there it only got worse.
For them.
She rushed out the door faster than they could react.
Someone managed to fire their gun but their bullets went all over the place as she drove her knee into his helmeted face. As that person fell, she used his body to spring into the air and land on two more of them. As soon as she landed on them, she was already in motion. I watched, mesmerized. It was like one of those action movies with overly powerful heroines. Eilish slammed her two assailants into the ground, rolled into the next one, headbutting him in the chin as she jumped to her feet. While he was falling, she spun into another, driving her elbow into his helmet to send him flying. More men came pouring out of their vehicles. It was hard to see though, because of the smoke canister. I could now just barely make out Eilish. There were some bursts of gunfire though, so I was pretty certain she was ok.
Then it was over.
It took her less than three minutes.
As the smoke started to clear, I saw her standing there.
She didn’t even have a scratch on her.
I walked to the door, looking at all the bodies lying around her.
She didn’t even look at them.
“Get your stuff,” she said calmly. “We’ve gotta move.”
I nodded numbly.
Who the hell was this girl?
“What the hell was that back there?”
We were driving. Apparently she had a Jeep parked not too far away. After grabbing my two bags, we made a quick retreat. We were now trying to put as much distance between us and the resort as possible. I still had no idea where we were going or what the hell was going on? This was all too crazy to comprehend still. She said she was my aunt, my real one. Maybe I believed her, maybe I didn’t. All I know is that she took out a squad of heavily armed men without breaking a sweat. She made it look easy too. It was scary how easy she made it look. If this woman wasn’t my aunt and she was out to harm me, I was pretty certain there was nothing I could do to stop her.
“That was sloppy, that’s what that was.”
Sloppy?
“You beat the hell out of those guys!”
She sighed, white knuckling the wheel.
We were driving just a bit over the speed limit.
“I shouldn’t have. It was messy. I could have handled it differently. Should have handled it differently. Too many witnesses...”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on now?”
She didn’t say anything for a few minutes.
We heard sirens. Several cop cars zoomed past us. She didn’t blink. She just kept driving.
Finally she said, “Not here.”
We drove to a secluded part of the beach. She picked a spot that seemed as far from the road as she could possibly get. Then we stopped. She didn’t say a word as she got out of the Jeep, I followed her silently. I watched as she opened the back, taking out a bag. She looked around, seemingly finding what she was looking for. I followed her as she went over to a large drum that was clearly being used as a trash can. Without saying a word, she opened her bag and dumped all the contents into the drum. Then she took out some matches and lit everything on fire.
“Good bye Laura West,” she said with a sigh.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She didn’t answer the question. Instead she stared at me intently.
“You have a phone?”
I nodded, reaching into my carrier bag and showing her. She snatched it out of my hand before I could react. A second later, she was tearing the back off it. She took out the sim card, broke it in half and tossed it into the fire. Then she did the same to my phone.
“What the fuck!”
She ignored me again. “What in the bag?”
“My laptop,” I said slowly, clutching the bag to my chest.
“Give it here.”
I shook my head. “Fuck you!”
She sighed, rubbing her temples. “We don’t have time for this. They can track you. The cell phone, the laptop...it’s all compromised now. You might not like it, but we’ve gotta trash it.”
No way.
I shook my head again. “Not fucking happening.”
There was no way I was giving it up.
It was the only thing…
It was mine.
She gave me a look. “I just trashed sixteen years of my life. You don’t think I get it? Trust me, I GET it. I’ve been here before. When you get to be my age, you’ll understand...”
Her age?
She sounded like an old man.
“You talk like you’re eighty years old,” I said with a scoff.
She laughed. “I wish I was still that young.”
Wait, what?
“You’re what, twenty three?”
It was a guess. The look on her face though, told me I was way off. I squinted. Dammit. Did I screw up and make her older? I mean, she was still very young and pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. That blonde hair, those blue eyes. She had a great body. If I was still me, I would be drooling all over her. I’ll be honest though, it was hard to gauge ages these days. Some older women took very good care of themselves. A thirty five year old could easily pass as a twenty something. The thing is, I was never very good at guessing. I was bad at compliments too.
“Ummm… I totally meant twenty one, right?”
She stared for a while.
Then she burst out laughing.
Shit.
“Nineteen?” I said, wincing from the perceived tongue lashing.
She stopped laughing.
Did I get it right?
“Believe it or not,” she said, very seriously. “I’m one hundred and twenty six.”
Oh, well then…
“You don’t look a day over fifty,” I said with a smirk and an eye roll.
If she didn’t want to tell me her real age that was fine. She didn’t have to be an ass about it though.
Women are so damn sensitive.
She didn’t say anything for a minute or two. Instead, she turned and looked at the ocean. She absently started to rub her necklace. I stared too. It took me a second or two to realize I was rubbing my bracelet. There was that tingle too.
“You feel it, don’t you,” she asked with a heavy sigh. “That pull. It's overwhelming at times. Now that you’ve changed, you’re not going to be able to get far from the sea. I try to stay close. It's why I mostly live out of my Jeep. You’ll get used to it….eventually.”
I was still staring at the ocean.
All that water…
I shuddered.
“Does it get better?”
She shrugged. “I find taking a swim helps. It lessens the need, but it doesn’t last very long. Baths are better than showers in that respect.”
I think Mother Nature has a sick sense of humor.
I walked up and stood beside her. “So, do you, you know...in the water...”
I tried to mimic a tail with my hand but failed miserably.
She smiled. “The first thing you need to understand is that you’re not human and never were.”
I think I figured that one out for myself.
She turned and pointed to a bit of sand a few feet away. I followed her and we sat.
“So what am I then?”
She didn’t answer, not right away. When she did, I’m not sure she could really put it into words. “There isn’t really any true definition for us. Sure there’s stories, lots of stories. I know what you’re thinking and you’re not wrong. I’ve thought it too for a very long time. The thing, we don’t really label ourselves. Humans have come close though. I guess the best term to describe us, using their language, would be Merrow."
Merrow?
What the hell was a Merrow?
She smiled, answering as if she read my mind. “It's a sea creature from Irish mythology. Though I use the term creature very loosely. We’re Daughters of the Sea; I guess you could say. We have extremely long lives and can transform our legs into tails while in the water.”
“I discovered that one for myself already...”
She nodded. “That was the first one. It's generally the worst. Very disorienting and confusing. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. Usually, when one of us changes, there’s a Sister there to help us. We don’t like to leave the young ones without someone.”
I huffed at that.
“You left me.”
She sighed. “Not intentionally. You have to understand something very important. When we’re born, we don’t have these gifts. We’re born human, like our fathers. Upon our birth, our Mothers can no longer stay on land for more than a few hours at a time. So as infants we’re passed to our Fathers to raise until we come of age. Then we hear the Call of the Sea and transform under the waves. Do you understand so far?”
I nodded. I still had questions though.
One big one.
“If our fathers raise us, then where’s mine?”
“He died,” she said in a soft voice.
Wow.
I mean I was expecting it. I’d been an orphan all my life. I really, truly did wonder what happened to my parents. I thought the Spencers had the answers, and they did, but they were lies. Then along comes Eilish with a different story. She’s my aunt, my real one. Now my real father truly was dead…
“What about my mother?”
She squeezed my hand. “She’s out there,” she said, pointing to the ocean.
I looked but I couldn’t see anyone.
She chuckled. “Not out there, out there. She’s far away from here. Too many bad things here. But she’s out there, waiting. It's why I'm here too. When we realized we couldn’t leave you with your father, we made a decision. It wasn’t a smart one, but we were running out of time. We didn’t have a choice. I hope you understand that. I tried to stay close though. You might not have noticed, but I’ve never been very far away from you...”
I started to tear up.
It's not every day you’re told that you were abandoned for a reason. I always had questions. I wanted to know why my parents didn’t want me. I was sure I was some kind of mistake. That they were throwing away something horrible they didn’t want. Now, I knew I was wanted, but I couldn’t be kept. The tears started to flow freely and wouldn’t stop. Before I knew it, Eilish was hugging me. I wanted to pull away but I couldn’t. Her touch was comforting.
She had a nice smell too.
Like the ocean.
She held me for a long time. When we finally pulled away, she brushed some hair from my face.
She’d been crying too.
I could see the tear streaks on her cheeks.
“I’ve wanted to hold you like this, in my arms, for a long time...”
That led us to hugging again.
This one lasted a bit longer.
I’m not sure why, but I felt safe with this woman.
Finally, I pulled away again.
“So what do we do now?” I asked, craning my head to look at the ocean. “About Bishop and the rest of this?”
She didn’t answer for some time.
When she did, it sent chills up my spine.
“We run.”
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay in posting this. I wrote this chapter, which is far shorter than the others. Then I wrote I wrote chapter 10 and ran into a typical situation of mine where I just can't figure out where to go from there. I think I might end up rewriting 10 so there might be a gap between the posting of this chapter and that one. Sorry about that. As far as this chapter is concerned, Cassie does not appear in it and as you'll soon see, its told from the 3rd person POV.I hope it doesn't confuse or throw people off.
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9.
Onboard The Mooring Gull
She followed the dark-suited gentleman along the deck, staring out at the calm ocean on the other side of the rail. She used to love the ocean as a girl. Things had been simpler back then. Her father used to own a sailboat. She and her brother used to take it out all day, sometimes into the night. That was before, though. Before the accident, before her father went to the bottle. Things were different after Jeremy was gone. Her father was different. She was different. Looking out at the grayish blue of the water, she couldn’t help but think where she might have been if there hadn’t been a storm that day.
Maybe she would be somewhere else.
Maybe she’d be someone else.
“Right this way, Miss Trent.”
She nodded and allowed the man to lead her into a room. It was dark inside and all she could make out was a single chair. He pointed to the chair, waiting for her to sit before he left her alone. She heard the door click as he closed it. So they were locking her in. She supposed it was meant to scare her, but if that’s what they thought, they had another thing coming. She didn’t scare easily. The boys in her unit had found that out the hard way. They didn’t much like a woman in the Corp with them, but there wasn’t a lot they could do about it. She learned to keep her head down and her mouth shut. She was patient.
Her patience paid off two years into her tour.
That’s when Onyx came-a-calling.
On paper, they didn’t exist.
A clandestine black ops arm of the military, so secret that only two people in the world knew they existed. The training was harsh. They broke her down, bled her raw and then built her back up. It was worth it though. Onyx was cutthroat. After the shit life she had, it was a breath of fresh air. She always felt the world was tailor-making her for a job like that. Most of what they did was classified. All she was ever told about her mission was she was doing it for the good of the country. That was enough for her.
She served in Onyx for three years before she decided to retire.
There was no future in killing for nothing.
She went into the private sector.
Ended up with a security firm called Frederickson.
It was a few years after that that she found herself here.
She still knew next to nothing about her employee. She was told it was better that way. Being a good soldier, she never once questioned things.
That was until this most recent assignment.
It was supposed to be simple.
Pair up with another agent, assume the identity of a suburbanite. She and her partner were meant to be married. Told if necessary they had to do everything in their power to make it real. She’d done it before. When she was given the full assignment, she never questioned it. Her orders were simple: acquire this kid by any means. He was sixteen years old, orphaned. His name was Cassidy. She and her partner were to pose as his aunt and uncle, make sure the kid had everything he needed. Until they called upon them. “Make him comfortable.” That was the assignment. She knew there was more to it. She was told the kid was dangerous. If necessary, they might have to subdue him. Everything was going perfectly until he was brought back by the cops.
The mission changed from there.
They got their orders.
Take him.
So they did.
After subduing him, they passed him off to the extraction team. Her job was over.
At least that was the plan.
The kid escaped.
That’s when they showed her how dangerous he was. They showed her a tape. It was over twenty years ago, a bit on the grainy side but she knew what she saw. That person had a tail. She pulled a man into the water and strangled him to death. It was so quick. They showed her other things too. Things dating back centuries. Whoever was paying for this new job had a pretty vivid imagination. She tried to humor the man. He was writing her her checks after all. She was very willing to play along. That is until she met the kid again. Except it was a girl this time. One that looked very similar to the one from that grainy video. They could be sisters. Or mother and daughter.
Things only weirder from there.
She absently rubbed her neck. It was still raw.
She was a believer now.
She was pissed too.
She couldn’t remember when someone had gotten the drop on her like that.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the door to the room opened. Light spilled in, framing a figure in the doorway for a moment. She squinted for a moment then the door shut.
“Good morning, Miss Trent, did you have a lovely sleep?”
That voice.
Dr. Chambers.
The woman who dropped the ball.
She grunted. “So this is why I’m here. You’re passing the blame.”
Sure, she had lost the girl, but it was Chambers’ people who screwed up in the first place. Amateurs. Now their screw up was her problem. A problem she was not properly briefed about.
“Blame? I’m not the one who let the girl slip through my fingers.”
Zoe scoffed. “It was bad intel.”
It was too.
None of the information she was given ever said anything about the kid having backup.
“An oversight on our part. One we hope you can take care of in the future.”
Zoe laughed. They couldn’t be serious.
“Me? Look, I’m done lady, pay me my money. Book me a flight out of this fucking freak show!”
Dr. Chambers didn’t laugh. She’d been walking around the room, probably around her. All Zoe could hear was the annoying tap of her heels on the polished floor. Now those had stopped. Being a smartass in a dark room with a psychopath like Chambers was a risk. The woman easily had the advantage here. For all Zoe knew, she could see everything. Pushing the wrong buttons wasn’t smart but she was done with this shit. She was a highly trained soldier, had years of combat training. That woman took her out with one punch. She saw the surveillance video from both the motel and the SUV dash cams. She saw what that woman did to their strike teams too.
She wasn’t human.
There was no way to stop that.
No, she was done.
This was WAY above her pay grade.
Dr. Chambers finally spoke: “You seem to forget our deal, Miss Trent. You bring us the girl, you get paid. I don’t see the girl here. So, no girl, no money.”
Bitch.
Zoe laughed. “You can take the money and stuff it.”
“We’ll double it.”
Zoe laughed. Yeah right.
“Triple it and we’ll talk."
Dr. Chambers didn’t even pause. “Deal. What do you need?”
Zoe was flabbergasted. She was also pissed that she didn’t renegotiate higher.
She licked her lips.
She didn’t even skip a beat when she told this crazy woman what she needed:
“More men and a big gun.”
“You’ll have it.”
Zoe smiled.
Now, this was going to be fun.
In The Room Next Door
“Damn Mercenaries.”
She opened the door and stepped into the stateroom. She didn’t even blink an eye at all the expensive décor. Her employer had a flair for the dramatic. Most of this stuff probably cost more than she made in a year. Everything was high end and untouched. The Mooring Gaul was not a pleasure yacht. It was bought and furnished for one purpose: housing their soon-to-be guest. Mr. Bishop had spared no expense. He wanted this place to be comfortable and feel like home.
She walked into the room.
Rich people disgusted her.
All her life she’d been dealing with them.
First as a waitress at the country club during her teen years, then the spoon-fed bastards at Harvard Medical. She came from humble beginnings and earned every cent of everything she ever achieved. They got it all handed to them on a silver platter. Under different circumstances, she might have even admired this Parker kid. He was a lot like her. She never knew her parents either. She was bounced around the System until she was eighteen. After that, the government spit her out and she struggled to stay afloat. Thankfully, she was able to land herself a scholarship. It paid for college and her side projects paid for medical school.
She managed to establish a small practice for herself in Manhattan. She figured if anyone knew how to deal with rich-people problems, it was her. They had a lot of problems too. She struck fame with a special patient though. A young man who believed himself to be descended from the Gods. He was an interesting case. The young man whom she referred to as “Patient H” had convinced himself that his father was Zeus and that Zeus had visited him in his dreams; told him things. The man’s delusions went so far that he thought he could fly. He eventually tried. Suffice to say, like most mortals, jumping off a building only led to a swift fall. The man’s tragedy had put her name out there though.
That’s how Bishop found her.
He approached her through a third party.
At first, she was skeptical of the whole thing until they sent her that video. From there, she was intrigued. She agreed to a meeting. More material was shared. A lot more in fact. She thought for sure she was there to evaluate the billionaire’s own mental health until she started to believe. He had an infinite amount of resources at his disposal and proved it to her. He had years of research as well. It was ultimately the research that had convinced her. The blood samples were the thing that sent it over the top for her. They weren’t human. When she saw them, she started to second-guess everything.
It was how this started.
It was also why she was needed.
Bishop told her about a boy. A boy who possessed this same blood. A boy whom he wished to meet. A boy he was convinced would solve all his problems. So they hired a pair of mercenaries to acquire the boy for them. He handled all the legal aspects. It was their job to pick him up. They succeeded too. There was a plan in place. A perfect plan she helped craft. Sadly, nothing ever goes to plan and when they had to improvise, things happened. They let the boy slip through their fingers, not once but twice now.
Heads were going to roll.
She was going to make sure one of them was not hers.
Confident she could handle what was to come, she walked over to the mini-bar to pour herself a drink. Mr. Bishop always kept it well stocked. Generally, she didn’t drink during the day, but she needed something to settle her nerves. She poured herself a glass of Scotch. She was just finishing when Mr. Bishop’s face appeared on the large flat screen in the room. She set down her glass and plastered on a fake smile. The man was in his seventies but didn’t look a day over sixty. His silver-gray hair was slicked back; the dark suit he wore cost more than her house. Charles Bishop was an aloof man. He never held any of his meetings in person anymore.
“That’s enough of that,” he said in a stern voice.
She cursed under her breath.
“Good morning sir, it's nice to...”
He cut her off. “Skip the false pleasantries, Doctor. Tell me what you know.”
She sighed. “Not much at the moment. Your crack-shot mercenaries dropped the ball and your security professionals got beaten by a mere boy...”
She had no problem speaking the truth to the man.
After all, if he wanted an Ass-Kisser, he would have hired one.
“The Mercenaries served their purpose, the security failure is on you.”
She expected that and didn’t argue.
After all, those men were under her watch at the time.
She wasn’t about to take the full blame for it though.
“It's hard to do my job when I’m not informed of all the details. You assured me that the boy was alone and had no friends. Then this woman appears out of nowhere, takes out your highly trained professionals without breaking a sweat.”
Mr. Bishop never showed any kind of anger.
He was an emotionless man.
“We were ill-informed. The situation will be handled. This opportunity is not without merit though.”
“How so?”
He smiled. It was the first time she saw him do so.
“We thought there was only one of them. There’s two now. This is wonderful news.”
She gave him a fake smile again.
His smile vanished quickly. “I have a team in the field narrowing down their location as we speak. These creatures might know how to hide but they can’t run from modern technology.”
That didn’t surprise her in the least. Bishop had his hands in several different things. His software and security devices were all over the country. All of it linked to one central network. This network could monitor most security threats around the world. It wouldn’t be long before they found them and brought them in.
They could run, but they can’t hide forever.
“There’s something else too,” he said, clasping his hands. “Something I want you to handle personally.”
“What kind of something?” she asked, concerned.
“Insurance.”
She smiled.
She knew exactly what he meant.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Cassidy's life has been lonely and full of heartache. Abandoned as an infant, bounced from foster home to foster home. He's never found a place where he's belonged. Then one summer as his life starts to turn around, something happens that changes everything...
Author's Note:Someone just messaged me earlier about Ch.10 and a continuation of this story. I actually wrote 10 whole chapters before stopping. I planned on writing more before posting this one but my venture into Whateley got in the way back in August and I never got back to it. I'm hoping to get back soon but I got a little stumped after finishing this one. I do have a solid plan in place for the rest of it though :). I'd like to thank Nyssa for her great editing :).
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10.
“Cassie Young?”
I was holding the ID in front of me, scrutinizing it intently. The girl in the picture barely looked like me. It said she was 18 too. All of this was too much, too fast. It was all a part of her grand plan though. The plan she came up with two days ago, right after she told me we had to run. We didn’t get very far though. We left the beach and ended up in a little motel not too far away. Eilish told me that hiding in plain sight sometimes worked best. It also gave her some much needed time to plan our next move. A plan that involved fake IDs and a lot of cash.
“Where did you get all that money again?”
She was in the process of sorting out several hundred-dollar bills into two neat piles.
She sighed. “The bank.”
“Wait, you didn’t...”
I looked toward the door of our dingy room, waiting for the police to kick it down any minute.
She laughed. “From my safety deposit box!”
It made sense.
How old did she say she was again?
Over 200 right? Which meant she probably had a lot of money. She told me last night when we got here that she traveled around a lot. She traveled light, usually in a van or some kind of jeep. When she paid for the room for a few nights in cash I was a bit surprised. All she would tell me then was not to worry about it. Now I knew why. She must have had cash stored all over the place. Being as old as she was, she probably moved around a lot. I still didn’t really understand it all.
Even after she tried to explain more.
“You age slower than humans…?”
She nodded, putting some of the cash in a duffel. “We age slower than humans. It's hard to know how slow, but let’s just say my boobs have been this perky for a long time and leave it at that."
I looked down at my own chest, suddenly very embarrassed.
I had so many more questions now.
My brain was still trying to wrap around the idea that she looked so young.
She frowned, sensing my confusion. “I’m not going to lie. It doesn’t get easier.”
She stopped sorting money and reached for another bag nearby. A moment later, she pulled out a stack of passports. She laid them on the bed one at a time. There were at least twenty or so there. I stared.
“We can’t stay in one place long, we can’t be one person long. It takes about a decade for people to notice, sometimes longer if we’re lucky. It was harder after I turned. All my friends started to age faster than me. Our Dad was no help. Thankfully I had your Mom. Celeste was great. If it wasn’t for her I’m not sure what I would have done. We tried to stay around, but people started to notice. Dad knew of course. Leaving him was the hardest thing we ever had to do...”
“Did you ever go back?”
She nodded. “Once, toward the end of his life. We kept our distance, but we watched him. He remarried, started another family. We never resented him for it. We were happy for him. He had people to grow old with, people to take care of him. I’ve tried to keep in touch with them, generally from afar… make sure they’re all right...”
Wow, that had to be hard.
I could only imagine…
No, I didn’t need to imagine.
It was now my life too.
I raised the fake ID, taking another look. Was this my new life now? How long would I have to pretend to be this girl before burning her away in a fire barrel? What about the next? What about all the ones that came after? If I lived as long as Eilish claimed, would I lose myself to time? What about my friends and family? Tori was human. Her parents. I’m not sure I could sit by and watch them die. I could tell them the truth, but would it be fair to them if they knew? Could I even tell them the truth knowing that it might put them in danger?
“Wow, that’s a heavy face.”
Eilish reached over and grabbed my hands. “I’m pretty sure I know what you’re thinking,” she said, giving my hands a squeeze. “I’ve been there. When it comes to loved ones, cherish the time you have with them. It's not ideal, but it's better than the alternative.”
I nodded slowly, but I had a thought. “Have you ever tried staying?”
She sighed. She didn’t say anything though.
Her silence was enough.
She held my hands for a while, but neither of us said a thing. For a few minutes, you could almost hear a pin drop in the room.
Finally she let out a forced laugh. “Way to kill the mood, kid.”
I chuckled.
More silence but not as a long.
“Ok then. I want to show you something important.”
She took me by the hands and gently led me toward the bathroom. It was one of those tiny motel bathrooms, barely big enough for the two of us, but we managed. She stood me in front of the mirror. I was still a little surprised to see that face when I looked at my own reflection. It was hard to connect the pretty blonde girl with me.
“Take a good look, what do you see?”
I frowned. “Me.”
“What else?”
I looked from me to her. I didn’t notice it before, but she looked a lot like me. Well, the new me. Her blonde hair was a little lighter and longer, and her eyes were blue, but I could see the family resemblance. Except of course for the ring in her nose. She was also wearing way too much eye makeup. But she was my aunt, there was no question about that. Except of course that she looked young enough to be an older sister.
“Us?” I asked, after a few seconds of reflecting.
She laughed, nudging my side. “Well, I see two totally bodacious babes ready to take on the world!”
I laughed. Eilish had an affectionately carefree attitude.
I couldn’t help but frown though.
“You’re frowning again. You gotta stop doing that, kiddo. I get it, trust me. It’s hard to get used to. It's not going to change. Well, not without help, anyway...”
I was about to ask her what she meant when something happened.
My mouth dropped open as Eilish’s reflection changed before my eyes.
Gone was the spunky blonde with the ring in her nose. In her place was a cute redhead with a smattering of freckles across her nose and bright green eyes.
This new girl giggled.
A second later, she was gone.
In her place was a black girl with tight cornrows.
Then an asian girl a chin-length bob.
She transformed into various other girls, all of different ethnicity and size. Finally, she turned back into herself, smiling as she did so.
“What was...how did…?”
She touched her necklace. “This is not just a piece of shiny jewelry you know.”
I looked at my wrist, at my bracelet.
“Like I said before,” she continued. “It’s the source of our mana. Not only does it allow us to form a tail while in water, it also allows us to use a Glamour to hide and blend in.”
“We can turn into different people?”
“Yes and no,” she said, turning back into the redhead. When she spoke again, even her voice sounded different.”There are limits. Those girls you saw me transform into, they’re only for me. I can try to be someone else...” She transformed into a copy of me. “But you’ll find it doesn’t last very long.”
She didn’t turn back right away, but it happened on its own about a minute or two later.
It was still mind blowing.
It made sense though.
“So all those passports are you?”
She nodded. “There’s IDs too. These faces are for emergencies though. Transforming like that takes a lot out of us. I can only do it so often and quickly because of practice. It's another one of the limitations I’m afraid.”
I nodded.
I think I understood.
It was the freakiest thing I ever saw. It got me thinking though. If she could change like that, did it mean I could too? If I could, then did that mean I could turn back to myself? My real self. Not this female version of me, but the male version I want to be.
“Do you think you could teach me how to do that?”
She smiled. “Thinking about the old you?”
Wow, was mind reading one of her powers?
She sighed heavily. “I can teach you, but you have to understand something too. There’s no going back. This form,” she said, poking me in the boob. “This is you. We’re called Daughters of the Sea for a reason, kiddo. There’s no sons or brothers. Trust me, I know...”
Wait, did that mean?
I sighed.
Maybe this ability wasn’t as cool after all.
I practiced well into the night.
It definitely wasn’t as easy as Eilish made it look. After about five hours though, I did manage to make myself look somewhat like Cassie Young from my fake ID. Eilish kept checking on me, giving me pointers when she could. She also made me take tiny breaks. Expending mana like I was, it took its toll. After first I didn’t know what she meant, but after a few dizzy spells, I caught on pretty quick. During my lessons, I asked questions when I could. I wanted to know everything about us. About me. She answered what she could. She talked about her childhood with my mother and where they grew up.
I was actually surprised to discover they weren’t American.
“So Eilish wasn’t a name that you randomly picked then?” I asked as we were walking out of the bathroom for another break.
She shook her head. “It belonged to me Mum,” she said, letting her accent slip in.
“Did she leave you guys too?”
Instead of answering, she took me by the hands and led me over to one of the beds. We sat on the corner of it. For a minute or two, she stared off into space. There was sadness in her voice when she answered, “Being who we are is no easy thing. We mate for life. When we meet the man we know we’re going to have a child with, we feel it in our bones. It's a Calling. Most of our kind can go centuries before the Calling takes us, for others it’s very quick. That was our Mum. She met Da shortly after changing. She didn’t really know how to handle things back then. Like you, there was no one there to guide her at first. She was lost and confused. When she had a pair of twins, something very rare for us, everyone was so excited. She couldn’t cope. After she left us with Da, she...”
A tear ran down Eilish’s cheek.
She didn’t have to say.
I understood.
I gave her hand a squeeze and hugged her tight.
I held her for a while. I waited until she calmed a bit before I asked about the twin thing.
“I thought you said Mom was the older sister?”
She laughed. “Oh she was, by about five minutes. She never let me live it down!”
She talked a bit about my mother and their childhood again. She was pretty vague about a lot of things though. Mostly her. It wasn’t my place to pry, but her earlier words got me thinking. She was a boy like me once. It was pretty obvious. It was the way she talked about it. How she knew what I was feeling and the longing I could hear in her voice. I quickly started to realize talking about these things was painful for her, so I asked more questions about my mother. She brightened up when she spoke about Mom.
“Celeste was a firecracker,” she said with a laugh. “Well is a firecracker. It's been so long...”
I squeezed her hand, realizing I needed to change subjects again and quick. “How many of us are there?”
“Merrows?” I nodded, she shrugged. “From what Celeste and I were told, there’s several families. Some are larger and have more importance than others. It depends on the place and region. We have territories, but we’re not overly territorial. Our kind are generally not hostile toward one another.”
The way she said “generally” though made me think.
“Are there bad Merrows?”
She didn’t answer me in the way I wanted: “There are good and bad people everywhere, kiddo.”
She left it at that.
It made me think of something else.
“Those men back there, the ones who attacked us, you could have killed them, right?”
She turned away from me and looked toward the window. She stared in silence for a long time; when she answered it was simple, “Yes.”
I’d been thinking about that fight for the last couple of days now.
Growing up like I did, I wasn’t completely defenseless. There was an older boy at the group home. His name was Rodney, but we all called him Hot Rod. He was bigger and older than the rest of us, but he didn’t pick on us like he could have. He protected us. He also told us how to protect ourselves. He never told us where he learned how to fight, but he was no slouch at it. He took a great interest in me because I was so small and girly looking. I met him shortly after that incident with Tommy, after the Mitchells returned me. When Hot Rod heard about it, he told me he was going to make sure that no one pushed me around again. He did too. Every chance he got, he took me aside and taught me how to fight. This went on for about two years or so. Then he turned eighteen and left us, left me. I remember crying for a while, but then life came into perspective for me. Shortly after I started the whole Emo thing and stopped caring. Later, I heard that Hot Rod had joined the Army. I was happy for him. He always talked about going out and seeing the world. I thought about him from time to time, especially when I was in that helicopter fighting.
A lot of what Hot Rod had taught me had come back then.
If not for him, I probably wouldn’t have been sitting here in this room.
Sure, it was all a sloppy mess but I was still free.
It got me thinking though. I really needed to defend myself. I saw the way she did it, and I knew she had had training. She said she was over one hundred years old so it was probably a lot of training. Training I could desperately need if these people didn’t stop chasing me. The thing was, I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with her. Especially after she told me she probably could have killed those men. There was no remorse when she said it. It made me wonder if she had done it before?
Finally I took a chance. “Who taught you how to fight like that?”
She laughed. “So many questions….”
She didn’t answer though.
She made some excuse about having to get our gear ready. I sighed, but like before, I didn’t press it. She was a very guarded person and I respected that. I watched as she continued to pack the money and some spare clothes into a pair of waterproof daypacks. I guess she thought it was easier than the duffels. I tried to preoccupy myself with watching her because I didn’t have anything else to do. She had agreed to let me keep my laptop, but it was but worthless now. The only way I was allowed to keep it was to fry the hard drive. I wasn’t happy, but she told me they’d be able to track us if we didn’t. She had taken it into town with her yesterday. She never said where, but when she brought it back, it was like a giant paperweight.
Looking at it sitting on the table near the door, I couldn’t help but think about Tori.
She was probably flipping out.
How many days had it been now?
Five? Six?
I lost track.
If I knew my sister, and I did, she was probably going nuts. After one day, she was probably ballistic. Without my phone and laptop now, I had no way to tell her I was all right. I tried to bring this up with Eilish, but she told me it was better this way. The two of us needed to run and disappear. That meant no more contact with our old lives. The thing was, it wasn’t that simple. Tori wasn’t just someone in my old life I could easily forget. She was my sister. Even after all the things I’d been through, all I could really think about was her. I needed to talk to her. I needed to see if she was ok. I needed to tell her that I was ok.
Even if she didn’t know it was me.
Making up my mind, I checked the clock on the wall.
The sun was just going down.
There was a phone at the front desk. I saw it when we arrived.
I bit my lip. “Elle, you think I can take a walk?”
She asked me to call her “Elle” earlier.
She narrowed her eyes. “It's getting dark.”
“I’m going stir crazy in here. I wasn’t going to walk very far. Just around the parking lot or something. You have any idea what it's like to be cooped up in here for two days straight?”
I was hoping it was enough. After all, she got to leave the room numerous times already. She said me going out was too dangerous. We discovered the other day how far Bishop was willing to go to “acquire” me. Last night there was a story on the news, they were flashing my school photo across the screen. They said that I, Cassidy Parker, was kidnapped, and wanted for questioning in my kidnapping were two women. Those two women were us, well, Eilish and my new self. They showed an artist rendering of Eilish but they had a fairly decent photo of my new face. Neither one of us were sure how they got it, but there it was.
Eilish went paranoid.
That’s why I now had a new ID.
It was also probably why she was so hellbent on teaching me how to change my face.
The thing was. It was night now. I didn’t plan on going anywhere where people could see me. I just needed to use a phone, call Tori, and let her know I’m all right. Easy peasy. I knew it was a risk, but I had to make sure that she was ok. I was worried about her. I also had to let her know that I wasn’t kidnapped or whatever. I would make a quick call, no one would know.
I waited for her response.
It was quick and damning.
“No.”
Now, most people would have accepted that as a final answer. Not me. I pretended to accept it though.I tried to stem my boredom with the TV. I only partially succeeded. After everything I’d been through so far, most of the programming held little interest. Half the stuff was commercials anyway. After the umpteenth time seeing a Whisper Pines dairy commercial, I shut the damn thing off. Watching TV killed another few hours though. When I stopped it was around ten. She was still on the bed next to me, sorting things out. I wanted to ask her more questions, but her need to share information had clearly passed. At least information about herself. She was more than willing to talk about our plans.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll leave bright and early,” she was saying, moving around two new bags near the door.
Like I said before, they were daypacks, small and easy to carry.
The type of thing for two girls on the run.
Two girls.
Even thinking about it made it feel wrong.
“Where are we going again?”
“Southwest,” she said, rubbing sweat from her brow. “I know a guy in Arizona who said he might be able to get us over the border. I have a cousin in Cancun, we can sort things out from there….”
She talked about the rest of our plans for a bit, but I blanked them out.
After another hour, we finally crashed.
I lay awake, waiting.
I didn’t move for another hour.
I needed to make sure that she was finally asleep. Getting up, I slid out of bed slowly. This was, after all. not the first time I’d snuck out like this. I used to be an old pro at it. At the group home, lights out happened at ten. There was a curfew too. As long as we were in our rooms by eight, they would sometimes let us stay up later. At least for kids my age anyway. It didn’t take me very long to get bored of video games and bad TV, so I used to sneak out. I got pretty good at it. There was only one guard in the whole place and I got to learn his routine pretty well.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, I slipped on a pair of my new shoes.
Eilish went shopping for me yesterday. She got me a few pairs of shoes, some shorts and some shirts. She didn’t bother with sizes, we could change to fit. She told me the clothes needed to be light and practical though. Something that I could slip on and off with ease. She also bought me a bathing suit. It was almost as if she thought I was going to go anywhere near the water again. When I told her it was a waste of time, she laughed. She told me I could try avoiding the water all I wanted but it wasn’t going to work. I didn’t believe her of course. I was my own person. I wasn’t going to let something control me. She tried to point out that’s exactly what I had been doing with my hydrophobia, but I ignored her.
As I was putting on my new sandals, she stirred awake.
“Where are you going?” she asked, half awake.
I nearly panicked.
I was quick on my feet though.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said and grabbed the empty ice bucket. “And we’re out of ice. I’m going to the machine to get some...”
She grumbled something I couldn’t understand before dropping back to sleep.
I let out the breath I was holding.
I waited a minute or two just in case.
I started out the door, stopped and grabbed one of the day packs. They were small, but big enough for some quick essentials. I watched Eilish pack them earlier with money, some quick snacks and various passports and IDs. She called them bug-out bags, but they were a lot smaller than what I was expecting. When I mentioned it to her, she said they were only needed for a little while. Once we got where we were going and were stable, then she’d think about more needed things. She wanted to travel light, which I was more than used to. Even now, I only owned my laptop and the clothes I was wearing. Most of everything else I left behind at the bungalow. Thankfully, I wasn’t really attached to any of it.
Slinging one of the packs on my shoulder by the single strap, I slipped out of the motel room.
The night air was warm.
Which made me look like a weird freak wearing my jacket. It served a purpose though. I wanted the hood to hide my face.
I was a ‘Wanted Woman’ after all.
Slinking through the parking lot, I made my way to the little office.
The kid behind the counter was only a few years older than me. A bit overweight, covered in acne and bored as all hell. He only slightly perked up when I stepped inside.
“Hey, you think I can use your phone?” I asked, pointing to the phone on the counter.
“You don’t have a cell?”
I frowned. “It’s busted.”
Not to mention probably roasted to a crisp now.
“There’s a payphone at the convenience store down the street.”
Payphone?
I smiled and thanked him as I walked out.
No use arguing, I suppose.
I was surprised that there were even payphones left. Didn’t those things die out like last century or something?
I started walking, remembering that I saw a convenience store not too far.
When he said ‘down the street’ though, he really meant down the street.
I cursed after my nearly twenty minute walk.
Walking into the store, the dinging bell above the door announced my presence. The teenage clerk behind the counter leered at me. It made my screen crawl.
“Payphone?”
He looked surprised for a moment. “Outside, around back.”
I grunted and left.
I found it easily enough. I fed it my fifty cents and decided to call Tori’s cell first. I knew it was late but she was up a lot later than this. It rang a few times then went to voicemail. I cursed and hung up. I didn’t have a plan up to this point. I mean, she was expecting to hear from her brother after all. I definitely wasn’t him anymore. I sighed. I was NEVER going to be him again either. I was still getting used to it. How many days had it been now? Three, maybe four? It was hard to keep track. I still wasn’t freaking out about it though. I should have been having a heart attack with all this crap. I asked Eilish about it, after we left the beach. She told me it was all part of the process. There was something in the magic that helped us accept our changes. Apparently, that included flipping genders.
The strange thing was, I didn’t feel different.
I was still me.
Even when I looked in the mirror and saw my new reflection, I still saw me. I guess that was part of the magic too. I’m not going to lie though, it was all pretty strange. Especially in the shower. I had yet to fully “explore” my new body and didn’t intend to anytime soon, but I’d seen it. I thought I was going to freak out, but once again, I didn’t. I’d seen naked girls before. Not in person of course, but in movies and in some of those scummy magazines. They always felt like this foreign thing. Something far off and unobtainable. Now I had my very own naked girl body and I felt nothing for it. It was a hot body too. All the leering and the lingering looks from guys was enough to tell me that.
I cursed.
This was all stupid.
That didn’t stop me from trying again.
I got her voicemail again, but this time I left a message:
“Hey Tori, you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Cassidy’s. He asked me to call and tell you that he’s ok. You don’t need to worry about him. He said he’ll call you when he’s safe.”
Short, simple and to the point.
A lie too.
I sighed.
I hated lying to her, but I didn’t have a choice.
Finally satisfied that I called her, I had another pressing matter that I needed to attend to. I walked back into the store, already annoyed at the little bell on the door. The clerk smiled when he saw me. Something about him sent shivers down my spine.
“You have a bathroom?"
“In the back,” he said with disinterest.
I nodded, meandering through the narrow aisles until I was in the back of the store. It was the frozen food section, the whole back wall lined with those giant freezers. I made a quick mental note to grab an ice cold drink before heading back. The bathroom was wedged into the corner. Grunting, I squeezed myself inside; it was pretty small. It also smelled horrible. I’d probably been in several bathrooms that smelled this bad and none of them bothered me before. Now, I was disgusted by it. Especially because I was going to have to sit on that seat. I closed my eyes and held in the urge to vomit.
I peed quickly. As soon as I was done and wiped, I jumped off the seat.
I washed my hands in the dingy sink, trying my hardest not to touch anything else.
I left as fast as possible.
“Dude” I shouted. “That place is disgusting. I’m calling the health...”
I was walking while talking. As soon as I got to the end of the aisle, I looked at the counter, but there was no one there.
Well, where the hell did the guy go?
I started walking toward the front of the store when I noticed a pair of feet sticking out from behind the counter.
Oh shit.
I made a mad dash for the door, wondering why I never heard the stupid bell.
I was almost there when someone stepped out in front of me.
He was big, dressed in black. His head was shaved and he had one of those SWAT earpiece things dangling at his collar. I think he was just as surprised to see me. He started to reach for a gun on his holster. I snapped around, grabbing the first thing I could get my hands on. It happened to be a large bottle of cooking oil. I swung it at him, striking him in the head. The plastic bottle exploded all over the place, spraying both of us and the floor. He staggered, made a grab for me and slipped.
I didn’t stick around.
I quickly snapped around him, but I soon realized he wasn’t alone.
I was almost to the door when a shot rang out.
A bullet whizzed past my head through the glass door in front of me.
“That’s far enough,” said a familiar voice.
I slowly turned around.
Mr. Spencer was standing behind the counter, pointing a gun in my direction. My heart was hammering in my chest. These people!
“You really are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
He stepped around the counter.
I looked past him to the clerk, I could now see a pool of blood starting to form.
How had I not heard the gun go off?
He saw me look and smiled, holding a bloody box cutter in his other hand.
“I didn’t shoot him.” He waved it in his gloved hand, then dropped it to the ground. “I didn’t stab him either. Tragically, you did. You see, he recognized you from the news. You panicked, grabbed the first thing you could find, and stabbed him.”
I looked next to the counter. There was a carbon display of box cutters there.
Who the hell sold those in a convenience store?
“You’re a sick fuck!”
He shrugged, then looked past me. “Johnson, get your ass up!”
His partner slipped a few times before getting to his feet.
I didn’t take my eyes off of Spencer.
There were a thousand thoughts going through my mind. One of them kept bubbling to the surface though. I cursed myself for my stupidity.
“You traced the call,” I said with realization.
He smirked. Still with the gun firmly centered on my chest, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. It had a glittery pink case.
No….
“Didn’t need to,” he said, tossing it on the floor at my feet. “Your friend Miss Mitchell was nice enough to let us use her phone.”
No….
I felt something.
Something I never felt before.
Pure anger.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I snapped around and slammed the flat of my hand under Johnson’s chin. I caught the man off guard. He staggered from the blow, allowing me to spring, grab the front of his shirt and launch him over my shoulder. He was as light as a feather. I watched in awe as he sailed through the air and slammed into Spencer, sending both men sprawling into a heap. Before they could recover, I snatched up Tori’s phone and ran out of there.
I dialed as I ran.
“911, what’s your emergency...”
“There are two men shooting up the convenient store on...” I said, giving her the directions.
She was about to ask me to stay on the line, but I ended the call.
Tears were streaming down my face.
I should have stayed, but I ran.
I needed to get back to Eilish.
More importantly though, I needed to rescue my sister!
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF
Ashley has a major problem. No matter where he goes or who he meets, EVERYONE thinks he's a girl. Perhaps his life would just be simpler if he embraced it?
Click on the title for a link to the book
It also helped to hide secrets.
I had my fair share of those.
Most of them were little, minor and just plain stupid. Like the cash, I kept hidden under one of my floor boards or the flash drive of compromising and nasty blackmail photos I kept around my neck. Silly things. Things one tends to garner growing up as the youngest. Things that might one day save my ass in a pinch I suppose. They were small secrets, though. If someone were to find out about them, I’d be ok. Sure I’d be out of a lot of money and blackmail material but I’d survive.
It was the bigger secrets I was scared of.
Well one actually.
The one I didn’t want anyone to find out about.
The one that got me in my current situation.
You see ever since I could remember, I felt wrong. There was a small part of me inside that felt like my body didn’t fit. I’m not sure when I started noticing but one morning I couldn’t help but feel it. I think my mother always knew, though. I could vaguely remember her taking me out and about, dressed in some cute outfit. I was always a beautiful baby, far too beautiful to be a boy. In fact, lots of people would tell me that now. Of course, that was after they made the mistake of calling me a girl. If Dad or one of the morons was around, they’d quickly correct the error. Mom was the only one who didn’t. She had been the only one who understood.
Cancer is an evil thing.
After Mom was gone, I felt so alone. I could never relate to my father and brothers. Sports and overall macho bonding crap never seemed to interest me. I tried. I even let Dad take me to ball games and buy me all those violent video games. I had to wear the sports jerseys and decorate my walls with half naked women. I even tried my hand at Little League back in elementary school. I hated all of it but it helped to hide my secret. It also helped to make me the most miserable person in all of Becker Falls. Ok so probably not but I had to be in the top ten. There were only so many people in our tiny little town, I was bound to be one of the most depressed.
Looking back upon it, I think Mom might have been too. If not for the cancer, I’m sure she would have left Dad. In another life, I might have gone with her. I’m sure we could have been happy together. In fact, I know we would have been. Alas, it was not meant to be and now here I was stuck, living a lie and trying my hardest every day to keep others from finding the truth.
Like I said, though, I let my guard down.
Becker Falls was this tiny little town like I said. It was so small in fact that we didn’t even have a mall. So every weekend, my brothers piled into the pickup and drove to the next town over---Bigsby. It was a much bigger town, like a small city actually. The mall here was a pretty popular place, especially with kids my age. I always liked to tag along because like most malls, it had a lot of different clothing stores. So while my brothers disappeared to do God knows what, I spent my time wandering up and down the shops, staring distantly into the windows. I knew what I wanted and I couldn’t have it. At least looking at all those great things made me feel a bit better about myself.
I’d been doing it for months. They’d go off and do their thing and I’d spend time with mine. Always looking, though, never going further than the other side of the glass. I felt kinda like a zoo animal but in reverse. All the good stuff was over there and I was stuck here. Ever the observer, craving what he can’t have.
“Hey there,” said a voice, causing my body to seize.
And therein lies my current problem.
Someone actually noticed me.
I was numb, terrified.
Turning slowly on my heel, I looked into the face of Kelly Donalds. We had a few classes together but we didn’t run in the same social circles. Partially because she was a bit on the popular side and because I didn’t have any social circle. Kelly was one of those girls. You know the one, super nice, super rich and super classy. She was friends with everyone, flittering from one group to the next but never really belonging to any. She was kind of cool that way. It helped that she looked like someone who could be on The CW. She had milky white skin, long silky black hair, and the most dazzling green eyes. She also had a smattering of freckles which looked kind of funny on her due to her Asian ancestry. I know what you’re thinking and if you must know, her father was Irish I think.
“You ok,” she asked, showing genuine concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something”
I finally found my voice.
“No, just startled”
“You’re in my English class right?”
All I could do was nod. Damn it. How could I have been this careless? Sure she’d only seen me looking but I was really looking. I probably could have talked my way out of it but we were outside Dillards. They had this great display of skater dresses, they were so cute. I loved skater dresses, they were spunky, young and classy all in one. I’d always admired them from afar but today I wanted to get a closer look. Why did today have to be the day that she walked by?
“I’m sorry I don’t know your name”
She looked sorry too. In fact, she looked like someone had shot her puppy. A girl like her made it their business to know everyone and not knowing me really seemed to disturb her. I guess I was doing my job then.
“It's Jay” I stuttered, without thinking.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said more confidently.
Why was I still talking? Why was I still standing here, to be honest? I should have been gone. I was embarrassed enough as it was. One of the most popular girls in school just caught me fish bowling dresses. I knew she wasn’t the kind of person to spread rumors but things like this had a way of getting out. She wouldn’t do it intentionally but someone would find out. The rumor would spread like wildfire and I’d get my ass kicked on two fronts---from schoolmates and brothers. I was really dreading how things were going to go at school tomorrow.
“You ok?”
“I’m fine,” I said, looking in every direction but at her.
There had to be a way out of this. I didn’t want to be rude but I didn’t want to be here either. I knew this mall pretty well. There was stairwell around the corner and a fire exit at the bottom. A quick run to it wouldn’t take more than thirty seconds. It was a bit extreme but I didn’t have a lot of choices.
“You don’t like people do you?”
“What, no,” I said quickly, panic starting to build. “It's just I have somewhere to be soon”
“They’re not here,” she said, misinterpreting my fidgeting.
“Who?”
“Your brothers,” she said with a knowing smile. “I saw them at the movie theater. They were with Sara Ellis and her brood”
Cheerleaders.
Figures.
Kelly finally shifted a bit, giving me the opening I needed. I didn’t even wait to around to say goodbye. As she tilted to the left, I went to the right. Right around her and toward the stairs. I would have made it too if not for my short legs. She was in front of me in two seconds flat. How in the hell did she move that fast and in heels no less?
“That was rude,” she said cheerfully.
Couldn’t this girl take a hint?
Ok so being allusive with her was out of the question. Time to be direct and to the point.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t know you and frankly I don’t really want to get to know you. It was nice talking to you but I gotta go”
Harsh I know but I couldn’t let her blab to everyone.
I needed to get out of here and away from her.
I started to move around her and make my way to the stairs again. Kelly didn’t seem to want to let me go, though. She stepped quickly in front of me again, smiling that sweet smile of hers.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“What no!”
“Then are you afraid that,” she said and lowered her voice. “I saw you looking at that dress”
So she had seen me. She also knew what I was looking at.
I felt the familiar burn around my eyes as the tears started to flow. This was it, my life was over. I could just see school tomorrow. I bet I wouldn’t even be able to get five feet into the building before they kicked my ass. Freshman blood in the water. The seniors already gave me shit about my height. There was also something wrong about having hair just at my shoulders. Somehow being short and having long hair suddenly made me a fag. Their words, not mine. If they knew that I also liked looking at dresses then I was toast.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you…”
I pushed her away as hard as I could. I didn’t even care that I put her on her butt. I stepped over her and ran for the stairs. I was halfway down them when I heard a commotion. Someone was running behind me. Then a second later they were in front of me. What I saw blew my mind. It was Kelly, she used the railing and the wall and somehow hoped in front of me. It was like something straight out of Assassin’s Creed. Bad ass Assassin parkour at its finest. She dropped in front of me with ease too, she wasn’t even panting.
Who the hell was this girl?
“What kind of person would I be if I let you run out of here in tears,” she said, gently putting her hands on my shoulders. “Now c’mon, let’s go sit down and talk for a minute”
I was too upset to argue. I let her take me by the hand and lead me back up the stairs. She led me over to a small seating area in one of the lesser used corners. It was right near the bathroom and there was a bit of a smell so not many people used it. The benches were clean at least. Sitting down, she let me have a few moments to collect myself.
I hated crying.
I especially hated doing it in front of other people.
It didn’t help that Dad always used to give us a hard time. Ok so not actually us, more like me. My brothers didn’t cry. Well, they did when something sad happened of course. We were all bawling when Mom died. Even Dad. Not that any of them would ever admit it. They were men. They were macho men in fact and macho men didn’t cry. Whenever he caught me sniveling about something, he’d always say to me, “Man Up. Wilkes men do not cry”. Which was BS? You couldn’t stop someone from crying.
Unfortunately for me, though, I took his words to heart.
And I’ve been crying a lot lately.
“So you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head when I had my tears finally under control.
“No,” I said “I want to forget about it”
Kelly frowned. “You don’t open up to a lot of people, do you?”
I shrugged. She was right but I had my reasons. I knew the world was starting to become more understanding about these things but I was still scared. Especially in this town. We were a little backward in our way of thinking. Sure things were progressive, we had a gay couple who lived on our block. Things were still hard though too. Especially around the house. I’m not saying Dad was an outright bigot but he made it pretty well known his feelings about these things. Dad had a reputation about town that he had to maintain. He owned a string of auto shops and car dealerships all throughout the state. Well actually inherited them but still one needed to be a certain type of man to own those places, according to him.
To show weakness was like blood in the water.
To present yourself as anything less than 100% Red Blooded American Male was even worse.
It was all pretty stupid if you ask me.
“Look, thanks for the help,” I said, waving at my tear streaked cheeks. “I’m good now. You can go”
Yes please go.
She smiled and nodded. She stood up slowly, making sure that skirt of hers didn’t rid up. It was a nice one. She’d worn it a few times before and I’d always admired it. It was from Rue21 if I’m not mistaken, I’d seen it on their website. A skater skirt, much like the dress but without the bodice. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing one wore in December but Kelly pulled it off nicely. She paired it with a nice pair of gray leggings, it suited her. Then again, everything she wore suited her just fine. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was jealous.
“It's nice, isn’t it?”
I nodded before I realized what I’d been asked. Of course, she’d caught me looking at her skirt. Clothes were after all my weakness. Especially cute ones like hers. In school, I always struggled with not looking. Not just at her either. There were a lot of girls there who dressed very well. Kelly was one of the many trendsetters, though. Her current style was preppy chic and it worked really well. Like I said before, straight out of The CW.
“I mean…ummm….nice legs”
Shit.
She smiled. It was a calculating, evil smile.
“You know maybe you can help me. You see Brian was supposed to meet me here but he got called into practice this morning. I need someone to carry my bags, play critic, that type of thing?”
Brian was her boyfriend. He was on the hockey team but he wasn’t like the rest. Sure he was a jock but he didn’t go out of the way to harass me like the others. In fact, more than once he’d actually stopped the harassing. He was a defenseman, you know those who stayed back by the goalie. So he was pretty big and scary when he wanted to be. Even some of the football players backed down when Brian told them too. He and Kelly had been dating for a while, I think since the start of sixth grade. They were one of the longest couples around. We used to be friends back in elementary school, well for a second anyway.
Puberty changed that.
‘I’m not sure…”
“It's fine,” she said with a laugh, cutting me off.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bench. Kelly really was forceful when she wanted to be. I tried to dig my heels into the ground, futile because it was in fact marble. She was strong. Stronger than me that’s for sure. I tried to protest but my pleas fell on deaf ears. She dragging me toward the No Man’s Land too. My agitation was taken over by excitement the closer I got to the door. My heart started to beat faster and my palms started to sweat. I was actually going inside. This was the moment I’d been waiting my whole life for and there was no turning back now.
Passing over the threshold, I felt something.
Something important.
It was like the part of me that was male was left there, on the other side. Being here now, surrounded by all this femininity, I felt at peace.
Ok, so it wasn’t all feminine stuff. Dillards was a department store after all. There were men’s clothes in here too but the majority of it was for women. High class, fashionable women. This place was definitely on more of the expensive side that’s for sure. It’s funny really because it looked like the kind of place my Dad might buy his clothes from. If he didn’t insist on buying them all from online male clothing outlets. Being here now---standing amongst some of the things I dreamed about---was actually kind of anti-climatic. It was just any other store, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was so afraid to come in here before.
Kelly let go of my hand.
“I need to get a dress for Stephanie’s Christmas party, c’mon you can help me look”
“I don’t know anything about dresses,” I said quickly.
She smiled. “Well then you can just hold my bag like Brian does”
Kelly all but fluttered down the aisles. She glided like a princess, it was amazing to watch. Me, I was stomping about like a truck driver. I followed her slowly, trying not to look like I was taking it all in. I looked at everything, though, it was just so amazing. If I’d been shopping with Dad or the idiots, I’d never be able to come in here. So I was going to savor this while it lasted.
“I need something light and flirty, I want to knock Brian’s socks off,” she said, trying to include me in her shopping experience. “What do you think?”
“Ummm…”
Why was she doing this to me?
Was it some kind of cruel game of hers?
“Oh how about the one in the window, that what’s it called dress”
“Skater,” I said, without thinking.
Shit.
She smiled.
“Yeah that one”
So that was her game.
She didn’t say any more. Instead, she led me to the back of the store where there was a display of the dresses. The one in the window was an enticement, something to draw customers in. Then they put the actual dress in the back of the store that way the people would have to walk all the way through the store to get to it. On the way, they’d see other things they might want. It was a pretty clever thing to do. I had an uncle who worked retail. He said they did stuff like that all the time. Especially around the holidays. Christmas was after all only weeks away now.
The dresses were stellar.
An assortment of skater dresses, racer necklines, foil dipped hems, lace bodices. Super cute, super sexy and definitely super chic.
Kelly was currently eying a red one. Not as cute as the foil ones but it would still work. It would definitely look good on her. If she paired it with a nice pair of block heel sandals, it would look awesome. I closed my eyes and pictured it on her. Yeah, definitely great. As soon as the image of her left my head, I couldn’t help but picture myself wearing it too. The image made me grimace. I liked the look of the pretty clothes but being a boy I knew they’d look horrible on me. I didn’t have the body for something like that.
“Earth to Jay,” she said, snapping her fingers.
I snapped open my eyes, flushing. “Sorry, was distracted”
“I see that”
She was currently holding two dressed by the hanger, the red one she’d been eying and a nice blue one. Either one would look great on her. I’m just not sure what she wanted me to do with them.
‘Those are umm nice”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course they are. That’s not what I want to know, though. I want to know which color looks better on me”
Personally, I don’t think either color suited her. With her dark hair and fair skin, she would probably look best in black or a dark purple.
Neither color suited Christmas well, though.
“I think probably the red”
She scrutinized both dresses then sighed.
“Stand here for a sec,” she said, beckoning me over.
I walked over to where she was standing. She stepped aside. Then she held one dress up to me, placing the neckline under my chin.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re about my height and size, I want to see how it looks”
I tried to squirm away but her glare made me stand still.
She scrutinized again. Then she did the same with the other dress. She gave me the turnaround gesture. I actually had to take the dress from her, hold it up to my chin and turn around.
“I’m not sure actually. I like them both a lot. I think I might need a live model”
“A live model”
I really didn’t like the sound of that.
Well, I did like the sound of it actually but I knew where she was going. I was both excited and terrified at the same time. More terrified right now, though. She knew my secret and was now just toying with me. Like a vicious cat playing with a timid mouse. I wanted to run as fast as I could but that didn’t really work out so well for me last time. The way I saw it, I had two options. One I could blatantly refuse and storm out of here. It would be a dick thing to do but it would be the right thing to do. Or rather the male thing to do. It was something I knew I should do but it was honestly not something I wanted to do.
I wanted option two.
I needed option two.
“You want me to put on one of these, don’t you?”
Her smile got really big. “Oh, would you. That would be fantastic!”
Oh, she was definitely playing with me now.
‘Wait, what”
“There’s no one around, you’ll be fine. Just pop into the changing room over there, put on that red dress and tell me when you’re done. I’ll see if it looks good then I’ll buy it”
She made it sound so simple. I suppose it was. I really wanted to put it on but I was scared what might happen. I mean what if this was all a setup. As soon as I put the dress on, she could jump in there with a phone and take blackmail photos. Or worse, take the photos and plaster them all over her Wall on facebook. I’d be the laughingstock of the whole school. Not to mention the punching bag of every jock everywhere. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face that kind of ridicule and beating.
“Go on, it’ll be fine. I’m not some malicious bitch out to destroy you”
She was smiling when she said it. She had such a nice, warm smile.
Damn it.
I groaned to make it sound like I really didn’t want to do it. Inside, I was practically dancing with anticipation.
Without any more hesitation, I took the red dress into the nearby dressing room. Generally, when I went clothes shopping with my Dad and brothers, we never bothered with dressing rooms. We just told our Dad the size pants or shirt we needed and he bought them. If they didn’t fit, he’d just take them back and get the next size down or up. When Mom was alive, shopping was a bit different. She used to make us do the whole nine yards---she’d measure us, make sure we used the dressing room and if something didn’t fit right, she’d meticulously make us try on clothes until we found the right articles that did fit. It used to drive my brothers nuts but I loved it.
I really missed her.
Ok so dress time.
I hung it on the little hanger on the back of the door, trying desperately to control my excitement as I did so. I started to undress which was a chore in or itself. I usually dressed in layers because I hated my body. First I took off my zip up hoodie, shaking free the mop my mop of dirty brown hair. Dad hated that I refused to get it cut. A boy shouldn’t have hair past his shoulders. It was only past them by a couple of inches but it freaked him out anyways. I liked t though. I also liked how it hung in my face, covering half of it. It made me look cool and mysterious.
I pulled my shirts off next---yes shirts as in plural, two of them.
I frowned at what I saw there.
Or the lack of what I saw.
I was fourteen. Most boys my age had gone through a massive puberty by this stage. They got taller, got muscles, hair on their chest and face. Me, I went through puberty but I didn’t get any of the male benefits. Which I suppose was what I wanted but at the same time, it’s like blood in the water in the locker room during gym class. I had no muscles to speak of and there definitely wasn’t any hair on my chest. I didn’t even have the broad shoulders like most boys. In fact, my body was downright feminine looking. Slender shoulders, thin waist. I could even see my ribs if I looked hard enough. I wasn’t what you might call tall either---only five seven. Which if you saw my father and brothers---who were at least six foot two or taller---then you’d know I was definitely the short one.
Taking off my pants, things didn’t get any better for my maleness.
I had girl hips.
Another plus for me but try being the boy who looks like this. I knew what I wanted in life but to other guys, I was a freak and they liked to let me know. The ridicule wasn’t anything too serious, just the typical locker room teasing. It stung though so I went out of my way to hide it as best as I could. I.E. the baggy hoodie, two shirts and the baggiest pair of pants I could get away with.
I couldn’t help but wonder if God was punishing me.
Here I was a boy but a boy with a clearly feminine body. Most boys would be tortured by it because they’d want to look manly. To me, it was torture in another way because it told me what I couldn’t have, what I’d never be able to have without help. I wanted more than anything to be whole and this body was a constant reminder that I’d never be what I wanted.
My last male humiliation was the tiny bulge in my boxer briefs.
Yeah, my brothers had a field day with that one.
“Everything ok?” asked Kelly from the other side of the door.
“I’m good, just taking my time”
“Well if you need any help just let me know”
How did I let her rope me into this?
Well, actually how did I blunder into this to be fair because that’s what I did. I got careless, she caught me and now she was clearly out to embarrass me. I was just waiting for the reveal of the whole prank.
I grabbed the dress. I’d stalled long enough.
I took a moment to run the fabric gently through my fingers. It was something I’d always wanted to do. It was something I remember doing with my mother. When she used to wear dresses, I always went out of my way to feel them in my fingers. I also used to rub the hem against my cheek and giggle. I didn’t do that now but I wanted too. I did close my eyes though and saw my mother again. Holding this dress made me think of her. It also made me think of all the special secret times we used to have with one another. Those times when my brothers were out and my father was work. The two of us would secretly slip into her room and she’d make me her daughter.
Her little princess.
Mom never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do. She and I were in it one hundred percent.
With my eyes still closed, I absently put on the dress. I’d seen girls do it a hundred times on tv and in the movies and on YouTube. A dress like this one had a zipper in the back so you had to step into it. First putting your feet in at the bottom then slowly pulling it up your body. I put my head through the neck, my arms through the open sleeves and zipped up like I’d been doing it for years. All with my eyes closed too.
I took a deep breath before I opened them.
When I finally did, I started to tear up.
Whenever Mom and I had our secret mother-daughter time, she used to make a big spectacle out of it. She kept a few dresses for me in the back of her closet, hidden away from my father. Mom wouldn’t get the dress until she’d brushed my hair and painted my nails. Then she’d help me with my tights and my little shoes. I used to love the feel of the nylon on my legs and soft cotton of the girl’s underwear wasn’t nearly as harsh or as unwelcoming as the boxers that my father wanted his boys to wear. It was a whole new experience and I loved every bit of it. The dress always came last. It was usually pink and classy. Something a young, sophisticated girl would wear. I don’t really remember what Mom and I did together as mother and daughter but what she used to say after I got the dress on always stuck in my mind.
“There you are, Jessica”
Looking in the mirror now, at the young teen girl staring back at me, I couldn’t help but hear Mom’s voice in my head.
I mouthed the words right with her:
“There you are, Jessica”
I took off my glasses to get the full effect, brushing the hair from my eyes as I did so.
For so many years I’d been hiding her away, keeping her a secret from the world. She’d been fighting and straining, screaming to be let out. I was selfish and cruel. I kept her all to myself, locking her away like a nasty monster. But there she was again, here and smiling. I hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. I forgot how much I liked to smile, to be honest. Mom and I used to smile all the time. Things changed after she died, I changed. Her happy, smiling child died with her. I mourned my mother that terrible day but I think I cried for Jessica too.
A light knock on the door brought me from my revelry.
A second later, the door opened and Kelly slipped inside.
“Holy shit wow,” she said with a slight gasp.
“Yeah”
“So that’s what you’ve been hiding this whole time, huh?”
All I could do was nod.
“Well, you look amazing just like I knew you would. You’ve got a great body and that face, you’ve been hiding that behind all that hair for so long. No wonder you confuse the guys so much”
Huh.
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know?” she asked, shocked. “The guys, they talk about you all the time. None of them can figure out if you’re a dude or a chick.”
She was lying. She had to be lying. I knew the guys, well most of them anyways. I’d heard what they say about me and none of them were confused. They were dicks. They liked to poke fun at me for a series of different things. None of them were confused about my gender, though.
“No”
“You really are clueless, aren’t you?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Then help me prove it. Wear this dress to Stephanie’s party”
I scoffed. “I’m not going to her party”
“Jay might not have been invited but I assure you, this girl would have been. You’re a real knockout, Stef would be an idiot not to have you there”
This time I laughed.
Wow, when was I last time I laughed.
“I don’t know”
“Well don’t decide right now anyway,” she said with a smile. “Get out of that dress and toss it over the door. I’ll ring it up and you can think about it later”
I nodded. She gave me a hug then left me alone.
It took me a few minutes to get undressed. I just wanted to stand here and stare at Jessica some more. I’d only ever seen her as a small child and the years had been kind to her. Looking at her now, I couldn’t help but wonder how I ever thought I was a boy. Sure I still technically was but there was clearly a girl staring back at me in the mirror. There had always been a girl there. Was I just that stupid not to see her?
I finally took the dress off then tossed it over the door for Kelly.
I redressed slowly, not wanting her to disappear.
The funny thing was that she was still there.
It was like a light being switched. Staring back at me---for the whole world to see---was Jessica.
How in the hell did that happen?
I didn’t step out of the changing room until a minute or so later. Kelly was standing there waiting, holding two shopping bags. She quickly held one of them out for me.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking the bag.
“Your dress dummy”
“My what?”
“Are you sure you’re not a blonde?” she said with a giggle. “It's your dress, you know the one you were just wearing”
What?
“No…I umm…can’t take this!” I said, trying to push it back to her.
She refused to touch the bag.
“Of course you can. It’s a gift, my gift to you”
A gift? But she’d already given me so much already.
“I can’t bring a dress home!”
“Don’t worry about it. If those morons ask you about it, just tell them I forgot it and you’re going to return it to me tomorrow”
Yeah like they’d ever believe that.
“I still can’t…”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “You’ve been looking at that dress all day. Last week you were in here looking at another one and the week before that”
“How do you know that?”
She rolled her eyes again. “Because I’m here every weekend too. I’ve been watching you window shop for two months now dummy. Always stopping at every window, staring at every dress. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and decided to intervene. You can try to hide it all you want, Jay, but there was a girl inside of you screaming to get out”
Two months?
I started to tear up again.
“I’ve been so stupid”
“No not stupid, just in pain. I wanted to help, I needed to help. You looked so lost and lonely. I told myself that I wanted to help you find that girl you were so desperately trying to hide”
“Jessica,” I said softly. “Her name…I mean…my name is Jessica”
Kelly smiled. “Welcome to the better sex, Jessie”
She held out her hand. I shook it.
We both laughed.
I was still really confused, though. Why would she want to do this for me, a complete stranger? Sure we were classmates but we weren’t exactly friends. Like I said before, we traveled in different social circles. I should have been an insignificant, non-entity to her. And yet, she went out of her way to help me?
“Why would you do this for me?”
Before she could say anything, though, we heard laughing. Coming toward us was my brothers. Brian was with them too. They made a motley crew. Like I said Brian wasn’t a bad guy but why he ever wanted to hang out with those three was beyond me.
“Hey babe,” he said, grabbing Kelly into a big hug.
“Bri Bri” she said then shot my brothers a look. “Morons”
I wanted to laugh but I knew what would happen if I did.
“What is the loser doing with you,” asked Hank, my sixteen-year-old brother.
He and Harry were twins. Frank was the oldest, a senior like Brian.
“Your brother was wandering about the mall when I found him. He’s been a Godsend today. He’s been helping me carry my bags while I shopped” She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “ A real sweetheart”
My brothers’ mouths dropped open. I couldn’t help but smirk at them.
Thanks for that Kelly.
“Well, we gotta go now. Dad wants us home for dinner” said Frank, I couldn’t help but see him smirk too.
Kelly took my hand and pulled me away, telling them to give me a moment.
“You’re a strong, independent woman, don’t let those assholes get you down”
“Thanks”
She took out her cell, making me do the same. We exchanged numbers then she gave me a hug. As we were hugging, she whispered in my ear:
“To answer your question earlier about why I’m helping you, well us girls have to stick together after all”
She pulled back and winked.
My mouth popped open.
She kissed me on the cheek again.
“I’ll see you at the party then?”
I numbly nodded.
She did that little half hand wave some girls did. Then she walked over to Brian and looped her arm with his. They said something to one another, laughed and wandered off. I stood still, stunned. Did she mean what I thought she meant?
I watched her go.
No, there was just no way.
Frank came wandering over a few seconds later. He nudged me with his shoulder, breaking me from my numbness.
“Hey what’s with the bag?” he asked.
Shit.
“It’s a gift,” I said dumbly.
“A gift?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “For who?”
“A girl I know,” I said confidently. “I haven’t seen her in a while but we recently reconnected. Her name is Jessica and I think I’m going to be seeing a lot more of her from now on”
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Here I Am
by: Enemyoffun
Two weeks ago, Jay's secret was discovered at the mall. Instead of running and hiding from it like usual, he decided to embrace it. Now he's about to reveal her true self and is terrified that people won't accept her for who she truly is.
I tried to be stealthy as I slipped down the back stairs into the kitchen. It was football night and if I was lucky I might be able to get out the door before Dad noticed. It's not like I ever made a habit of going out after the sun was down. I almost made it to the back door before Dad walked into the kitchen. The universe was a Cruel Mistress. We stood and stared at one another for a long time, neither sure what to say. Me, standing there in my usual hoodie with my backpack slung on one shoulder. Him in his weekend clothes with an empty beer can in hand. He broke the silence. “Where are you going?” I took a deep breath. I had a plan for this. I practiced it several times in my bedroom before coming down the stairs. Just in case. It was a good thing too because I was a terrible liar. Dad could always detect lies from a mile away too. So I took my time and managed to craft what I thought was a masterful one. “I’m going to my friend’s for a bit, is that ok?” Ok, so it wasn’t as masterful as I thought. The look on Dad’s face though. “You have...I mean who’s your friend?” He recovered quickly. I almost snickered. I didn’t have that many friends. At least none that I ever really hung out with outside of school. It wasn’t easy being me and hiding who I was all the time. I just felt like a fraud lying to people. It was bad enough I’d been lying to my Dad and brothers all these years. No one really understood me. No one except Mom that is. It was a lot easier when she was here, helping me with the lie too. “Kel...vin” I almost said, Kelly. I wanted to avoid that conversation. I was hoping just telling him I had a friend was enough. Dad had been trying to nudge me out of the door for months now. He kept hinting that it was unhealthy for a boy my age to sit up in his room all day reading comic books and playing games on my computer. He just didn’t understand. I liked doing those things. I liked being alone. I liked being invisible. I was pretty good at it too. That is until Kelly. She was a relentless whirlwind. When she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her. She knew my secret too. She caught me in the mall last weekend. I had been pretty discreet about the whole thing or so I thought. Kelly was on to me though. For months apparently. Last Saturday she decided to strike. She caught me off guard. She broke me down, got me into a dress and the rest, as they say, is history. Ever since Mom died, I’d been hiding the girl inside. I was hoping no one would ever see her. Kelly saw her though. She was bound and determined to free her from her cage too. She succeeded. The two of us have been pretty discreet about it ever since. She tracked me down at school on Monday, got my cell number off me and has been texting me on and off all week. We were secret friends. We didn’t move in the same social circles after all. Kelly wanted to be my friend at school but I told her I couldn’t do that to her. Besides, how would we explain it? I was the quiet loner geek and she was the most popular girl in my grade. It was an impossible friendship. So I was happy just texting back and forth, regardless of her protests to the contrary. Plus it's not like it was all bad. I had a friend who I didn’t have to hide from. Thinking about it, I was so lost in thought, I completely missed what Dad was saying to me. “I’m sorry Dad, what was that?” He sighed. “I was saying, if you need a ride home, call me but make sure its before ten o’clock, I have to be at the lot early tomorrow...” “I’m not sure how late I’ll be honest” I lied, hoping that he noticed that I was fidgeting while doing it. He nodded. “Well, your brothers are going to be out somewhere tonight. Curfew is still midnight. You have your key right?” I patted my jacket pocket. He smiled and continued into the kitchen to get another beer. Dad was pretty lax when it came to us doing things. Like going out. As long as we got back home at a reasonable time he allowed us some leeway. It helped that we were on vacation now. School let out yesterday for Winter Break. I now had three whole weeks to do whatever I wanted. Kelly seemed to have that all planned out for us in advance. Especially tonight. Stephanie’s party. She’d been bugging me all week and I’ve been telling her no all week. Yet somehow… “Thanks, Dad,” I said with a smile as I made my way toward the back door. As soon as I stepped out onto the porch, my cell beeped. It was Kelly. HEY GIRL, YOU READY? I grunted. NO, I typed nervously. TOUGH. GET YOUR CUTE BUTT OVER HERE. And it begins. ----- OOO-----
“Stop fidgeting” she hissed. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t remember this dress being this short. I kept tugging at the hem, hoping to pull it closer to my knees. I only ever wore it that one time at the mall. Even though Kelly suggest I try it on a few more times. I was always too scared, even with my door locked. My brothers had a way of pestering me to the point of cracking. Not to mention my Dad. He didn’t like locked doors in his house. Partially because last year he caught one of the twins smoking in their room. Ever since he’s been a huge stickler on open doors. So I really had no place to secretly wear my new dress. “Why is it so short?” Kelly stopped doing her makeup and walked over to stand behind me in her mirror. She scrutinized me for a few seconds. Then smiled. “It's the boobs!” She gave my padded chest a quick squeeze with a giggle. I didn’t feel a thing. That didn’t stop me from smacking her hand away. A dress like this didn’t need boobs but Kelly wanted to create an illusion nonetheless. She had these little boobs that stuck to your chest. I’m not sure where she got them but I wasn’t complaining. Secretly I’d always wished to have them. I was still fairly new to puberty. Thankfully it hadn’t hit me full force yet. My brothers always used to give me crap for being so short and dainty. I put on a ruse and complained about it but secretly I loved it. I never was a big kid. I always had fair features and a quiet, soft voice. Dad kept telling me that it would change in time but of course, I never wanted that. “Where did you get these again?” I asked, cupping my chest. “Trade secret,” she said with a wink. A moment later, I was back to tugging on the hem. This time she smacked my hand away. Then she took said hand and led me over to her vanity. She sat me down and spun the chair. “No peeking,” she said with a giggle. Then she went to work. We only had another hour before Stephanie’s party started. Kelly was bound and determined to put as much distance between Jay and Jessica as she could. She started earlier with my hair. I always kept it on the long side but generally hidden in a lopsided ponytail or under a hood. The school was pretty lax about their dress code. The first thing she did was free it from its rubber hand. Then she made me go into her bathroom to shower, making sure I used her shampoo and conditioner. That was three hours ago when I arrived. After she blow dried it, she styled. It was an amazing transformation. I’m not sure how she put a wave in it but I wasn’t complaining. She turned my dull muddy brown locks into something vibrant and eye-popping. Now she was working on my face. “Did you get the contacts?” I nodded. Before I could say anything, she took my glasses off my face. The room was a hazy blur. Not that I didn’t know what it looked like. I was convinced her room was bigger than all of the rooms in my house combined. Kelly lived in a giant house. One of those McMansions. It helped that her parents were loaded. Her Mom was a defense attorney, her Dad worked for the state department. He was never home though, he split his time between here and DC. She told me she saw him every other weekend. He was also planning on taking some time off before Christmas, taking them on vacation. I was a little envious. I couldn’t remember the last time we went on a family vacation. I was certain it was way before Mom got sick. I vaguely remember a long car trip and my brothers being very annoying the whole way. No one in my family had much time for anything. The car business was better than ever according to Dad. The twins lived and breathed sports. Even Frank was busy with college prep stuff. Kelly gently shook my shoulder, shaking me from my thoughts again. “You’re drifting again,” she said with a giggle. “Guess I’m not used to being pampered,” I said truthfully. I couldn’t remember the last time someone actually paid attention to me. Save last week when she found me in the mall. I found myself lost in thought again. Not about one thing though. I just let my mind drift as she did her work. I know I should have been paying attention to all the makeup she was putting on my face but there was such a flurry of things going on, it was too hard. I recognized most of it. When not being watched, I spent a good portion of my time watching makeup tutorials videos on YouTube. I frequented quite a few but mostly this British girl---Nova something---she seemed to have the skill of a true artist. She made her tutorials simple and easy to follow. I wonder if Kelly watched them too? I couldn’t help but notice she was using a lot of the products that Nova recommended. I thought about asking but she suddenly stopped. It took a lot faster than I thought. “You’re done?” She nodded. “We want a minimal look. You have such great skin and your complexion is amazing. I didn’t want to do too much to draw away from your natural beauty. So I just did your lips and your eyes. Did anyone tell you they were your best feature?” I smiled and nodded softly. Mom used to tell me how much she loved my eyes. They were green but with flecks of gold in them. Like hers. Thanks in no small part to my mother’s Irish heritage. We were also the only ones in the family who had green eyes. Dad and my brothers had yucky brown. “Here, put these in so you can see,” she said, handing me the little case with my contacts. Contacts weren’t a totally new thing for me. I had a pair a while ago but I let the prescription expire last year. They were just something I never bothered with. I didn’t care if I wore glasses or not. My Dad didn’t care either way. He did offer to get me that laser eye surgery if I wanted it though. I turned him down though. Personally, the glasses helped me stay invisible. Once upon a time, they might have drawn more attention but nowadays a lot of people wore glasses. The idea of the Four Eyed Nerd was a thing of the past. Most people didn’t look my way. So I was safely able to get away with them without too much trouble. Kelly wanted me to lose them though. Not out of malicious intent though. She seemed to think that a girl like Jessica didn’t need them. Kelly had an image of Jessica in her head apparently. An image she was trying to create today. An image I was allowing her to mold. I was like a blank canvas waiting for all that vibrant color. Kelly was my eager artist. Delicately putting in the contacts, I finally got to look at her masterpiece. I was stunned. “That’s me?” I was staring at the stunningly beautiful girl in the mirror. Her usually limp dark brown hair was wavy and full of life, her dull face was brought to life by the eye makeup and shiny lips. Those eyes often hidden behind dweeby glasses were now front and center, full of vibrant curiosity. It was hard to believe that this girl was actually me. I mean sure I knew she was always there. I saw her last weekend. Seeing her then and seeing her now though were two completely different things. Maybe it was the hair styling or the makeup, maybe it was even the fake boobs. Whatever it was though, Jessica seemed more lively and full of life. I was smiling. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled like that. “I take it you approve then?” she asked, putting her hands on my shoulders. I nodded like a dumb idiot, too mesmerized to speak. “I do great work it seems.” We both laughed. I stared at myself in the minute for a few more seconds before nudged me. “Ok so I have shoes that should work,” she said as she held up a pair. “I also have a little clutch that matches.” She left the shoes on my lap as she wandered off to her closet. I lost her there. Instead, I focused on what she wanted me to put on my feet. I’d worn heels before. Several times. It was part of the Mother/Daughter time, Mom and I used to have. Back then though they were little girl heels, not even an inch. The type of heel that a girl might wear if she was playing dress up. I used to glide around the house in them, always when Dad and the idiots were gone of course. I’d gotten pretty good at walking around in them too. These shoes though were a different ball game. I hadn’t worn heels in years. Looking at them, I could see they were at least two inches. I fingered the smooth leather, excited at the thought of gliding again. “They’re nice right?” asked Kelly, turning away from the closet for a moment. I nodded, before slipping one on my foot. It was only slightly tight. I had small feet. Another curse of my small stature. At least that’s what my brothers liked to say. They ridiculed me a lot of the size of them. I secretly loved it. I loved it, even more, knowing that Kelly was pretty much the same size as me. There was something satisfying knowing that my feet were the same size as a girl’s. I smiled as I slipped my foot into the other one. Then I stood. I was a little wobbly at first. It had been a few years after all. I took a few cautious steps forward before gently walking around the room. It was like riding a bike. I almost twirled. Instead, I found myself walking back over to the vanity to sit. Kelly smiled. “Those aren’t your first pair of heels, are they?” I blushed the color of my dress. Kelly smiled then brought me a clutch. “This matches your dress, it should be perfect.” Before handing it to me though, she starting to put a few items inside like a compact, some of the makeup she used, a pack of travel tissues. I flushed several shades of embarrassed when she tossed in a few tampons. For the illusion, she explained. She also made me hand over my wallet. She transferred all its content to a feminine equivalent before tossing that in as well. I was surprised really because there wasn’t much in there. I wasn’t old enough yet to even get my Learner’s permit. I did have a library card and a couple of store cards. What little cash I had was gone, haven’t been spent on this little endeavor. All the makeup, for instance, she told me what to buy. She handed me the clutch then the two of us left her room. I was a little nervous going downstairs. “Oh girls you look amazing,” said Kelly’s mother when we walked into the living room. I was a little surprised and apprehensive when she opened the door earlier. Especially because I was dressed in my boy clothes. My fears though were unfounded. Ever since Kelly told me that most people at school already thought I was a girl, I’d been paying more attention. It was the little things I started to notice. Walking into the house early, Mrs. Donalds immediately started treating me like I was a member of the fairer sex. Not that I was complaining. I was just mildly surprised by it all. More so when I thought back to some of the past interactions I’ve had with various people over the years. Had they all thought I was a girl too? Just thinking about it made me the happiest person in the world. “Thanks, Mom,” said Kelly, doing a twirl. I watched my friend twirl. Then looked at her mother. It was easy to see how the two of them were related. They were both exceptionally beautiful people. They had enough Asian features that made them even more beautiful. Kelly told me her great-grandparents meant during World War 2. Her grandfather was an American GI, her grandmother a Japanese refuge. It was one of those forbidden romances. They got married shortly after the war ended. He brought her back to the US with him. Kelly’s grandfather---their son---married an American girl, Kelly’s grandmother. They had three children, one of them Kelly’s mother of course. It all sounded kinda nice. My family was very small. My father only had the one sibling, my uncle Jake and he was always too busy to marry. Mom had a couple of sisters but they didn’t live around here. My Dad’s parents were in Florida. Mom’s parents were in Vermont. None of them visited often. Then I had Dad and the Idiots. We were all one big happy family. Not. Mrs. Donalds must have picked up on my negativity toward it because she gave me a look. “You ok, honey?” she asked with some concern. I nodded. “Just thinking about my stupid brothers,” I said with a laugh. “They’re the worst,” said Kelly, gently squeezing my hand. We sat around talking for a few more minutes. Most of the conversation was centered around Kelly’s mother and her numerous compliments. Then her mother starting discussing curfew. Unlike me, Kelly had to be in the house no later than ten. I guess it made sense. Mothers were a bit more strict with daughters than they were with sons. I was both relieved and annoyed by that. Mostly because I felt bad that Kelly had such restrictions. The other part of me wished that my father saw me that way and was just as strict. It was a blessing and a curse I suppose. “Are you driving tonight, honey?” her mother asked as we walked toward the kitchen. “Is that ok?” Her mother frowned but nodded. “Stephanie is only down the road so it should be ok.” Though Kelly and I were both freshmen, she was a couple of months older. She was now sixteen and had her license. Her parents wouldn’t let her drive to school but she was allowed short trips around the city. She was allowed to drive as long as she wanted as long as one of them was with her though. I was still a few months away from sixteen. Dad had already started taking me out for lessons though. We did it mainly in parking lots to avoid any serious accidents. I was getting better at it. Dad told me he was impressed because I was a lot more cautious driving than my brothers were when they started. “There’s my baby,” said Kelly with a slight squeal as we walked into their large garage. It was big enough for at least six cars. I wasn’t the least bit surprised by the quality of said vehicles either. There were two Mercedes S classes, an Escalade and of course, Kelly’s “Baby”. I’d seen her drive the shiny blue Miata around town. It was a sleek and sexy car. I’m not sure the convertible was right for the window but with the top up I think it would be all right. I couldn’t help but drool a bit over it too. I might have been all girl on the inside but I still could appreciate some boyish things. I loved cars. I guess that’s a given seeing as my father was a car man. Looking at this fine piece of machinery before me, I couldn’t help but stroke the hood when we got close. “I see someone is in love too,” she said with a giggle as she unlocked the doors. I nodded like a dumb idiot. Kelly giggled. “Wait until you feel how smooth the ride is.” ----- OOO-----
The ride to Stephanie’s house was very quick. Kelly apparently only lived a few blocks away. The closer we got, the more nervous I was starting to become. I’d always been apprehensive about this party. I’m not even sure how I let Kelly talk me into it. Last weekend when she told me she bought the dress to wear to this party, I thought she was kidding. Over the week though, she kept telling me I was going. I humored her for a bit until I realized that she actually roped me into it. That’s when I went out to get the makeup and things. It still felt pretty unreal to me. Even when I was in Kelly’s bedroom earlier, getting dressed and fully emerged in this lie. No, not a lie. Jessica was not the lie. I had to keep telling myself that. Jay was the lie. I think when my mother started dressing me up all those years ago, it had started as some harmless fun. Mothers can have fun with their young children. As I grew though and didn’t tell her to stop, I think we both knew. That’s why our sessions started to become secret. We found whatever time we could to be the mother and daughter both of us wanted. When Mom got sick, I tried to do it without her but I just couldn’t. After she was gone, I stopped altogether. It felt wrong to be a daughter when Mom wasn’t there to be with her anymore. That, of course, didn’t stop me from looking. I thought I’d been discreet about it. I wasn’t. I was scared and upset when Kelly caught me but I think I was happy too. Kelly was my life saver. Without her, Jessica would still be sitting in the dark, never again to see the light. I couldn’t help but smile at that. I also couldn’t help but smile at Stephanie’s house. Though not as large as Kelly’s, it was still pretty impressive. It was also surprisingly just around the corner from my own. It was weird. I’d lived in our house all my life and never knew that Stephanie and Kelly lived so close. I guess that goes to show how much disadvantages you have when you’re a loner. Thinking about it made me sad but all the Christmas decorations perked me up a bit. Her house was vibrant with light. It was classy too, not overblown like some overzealous people got this time of year. My father usually paid a professional to string our lights. It was very well done but it lacked that personal touch. It was clear that someone in Stephanie’s house hung these decorations themselves. I smiled at it again. “You seem happy,” said Kelly as we pulled up in front of the house. There were already a lot of cars parked around us. “I like Christmas”. I did too. It used to be my favorite holiday. I almost teared up. Kelly gave me a concerned look. “You ok?” I nodded. “It's just that without Mom, Christmas isn’t the same.” Kelly grabbed my hand and pulled me into a hug. It was nice. I’m not sure someone had ever hugged me to comfort me. I almost cried. It was a good thing I didn’t. I definitely did not want to walk into this party with my make up a mess. Kelly took my hand and led me out of the car. As we walked up the driveway, my nerves started to take over again. I felt like I wanted to puke. I also felt like I wanted to run. This was stupid. People were going to know. I was a boy. They were going to see a boy in a dress. I started to panic. My body grew hot and the world started to swim around me. I felt like I was going to pass out. Kelly seemed to notice because the next thing I knew, she had her hands on my shoulders and was standing directly in front of me. “Breathe,” she said in a soft voice. “In and out. You’re going to be ok.” I did as she asked. “Now, I know you’re scared and nervous. I’ve been there. I know the fear and anxiety. You’re a pretty girl, Jess. You’re beautiful and confident and people will love you. They’re not going to see a boy in a dress. They’re going to see the lovely woman you are. The lovely woman that everyone thinks you are.” I continued to breathe as she took me gently by the hand again and led me toward the house. The breathing helped because I wasn’t nearly as nervous as she rang the bell. I stopped breathing though as the door opened. I’d only known Stephanie Wright in passing. Like Kelly, she was one of the more popular girls in school. She was that perky blonde cheerleader that most of the guys wanted to date. If the locker room rumors were true, most of them that were worth having, had their shot. I’m not saying Stephanie was a slut but she did get around. Though my not thinking she was a slut wasn’t help but the tight, skimpy dress she was wearing. Especially when it was exposing a lot of her “assets” to everyone. “Kel, glad you could make it,” said our vapid host as she half hugged my friend. I wanted to gag. Stephanie for all her happy niceties was always a pretty artificial person. “Stef, this is Jessica. She’s a new friend”. Stephanie gave a long, hard look. She seemed to be scrutinizing me with those piercing blue eyes of hers. Eyes that I noticed were roaming slowly up and down my body. She was sizing me up. I couldn’t help but feel a bit like a side of beef. The more she looked though, the more I realized she wasn’t actually sizing me up as a mate. She was checking out the perceived competition. So this was the World of Girls. And that was that. She turned and ushered us into the house. Kelly gave a “Sorry” look and we walked inside. Stephanie sashayed away, leaving the two of us standing in her overly large foyer. I had to admit, the Wrights had an amazing house. It wasn’t nearly as grand as Kelly’s place but it was pretty impressive. The foyer opened up into a large living area with high, vaulted ceilings. It was currently jammed with people dressed in festive colors. People who I saw almost every day. There was a small lump in my throat as Kelly took my hand again and led me toward them. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I heard Stephanie was having a party. I always imagined what they might be like and I’ve heard the stories but it was surprisingly subdued. Maybe it was because it was a Christmas one. I was expecting loud ear splintering music, shouting and beer pong. The music was holiday themed, there was idle chatter and though people were rowdy, it was a good kind. Kelly brought me from one group to the next, introducing me as we stopped for a moment or two. A lot of the girls hugged her. Many of them gave me polite hellos but none of them seemed too interested. There were a few who claimed to know me or lied and said they did. I knew my merit at school. I was Invisible Boy. I was happy with it too. It was nice that these people were being polite but it was clear none of them actually cared who I was. I was ok with that though. I was only here because Kelly insisted. “Oh, there’s Brian” my kidnapper squealed. She let go of my hand, making it a bit harder for me to follow her. I managed though. I squeezed my way through the people to where her boyfriend was standing. He was with a group of jocks, most of them from the Football and Hockey teams. They were all milling about, sipping on punch, chatting about some game. I was never really interested in sports but I had a passable knowledge about them. It was one of my survival tactics, living in a house with my brothers. “Brian, you remember Jess, right?” Brian gave me a look for a second. Then a much longer look. I saw it in his eyes, he knew. Why wouldn’t he know? We used to be friends in elementary school after all. He was one of the only people here, besides Kelly, who probably knew my true gender. The look he gave me said it all. He was surprised at first but quickly recovered. “Of course,” he said with a slow, calculated voice. “It's nice to see you again, Jess.” When Brian looked at me, I was surprised at the smile. It seemed almost genuine. It was still pretty awkward though. From there, the rest of the night slowly developed. First, it was all pretty strange and hard. I was nervous that someone other than Kelly and Brian would figure me out. Visions of getting my ass kicked plagued me for at least an hour. After that hour though, I calmed down. No one seemed to know. If they did, they didn’t care. I suppose that’s a commentary on today’s society. Things like boys dressing as girls weren’t nearly as taboo as they used to be. Just like being gay. In fact, there were several gay couples here at the party. No one even blinked when two boys or girls were dancing and making out. It was a new world and I was proud to be born into it. The night wasn’t without its problems though. I suddenly found myself alone. Kelly and Brian desperately wanted to dance and who was I to interfere with that. “You’ll be fine,” she told me as she dragged her man off to the makeshift dance floor. I wasn’t so sure. Nervously crossing my arms, I wandered over to get a cup of punch before slowly making my way to the couch. Thankfully there was no one around. I made sure I sat properly. I was hoping to go unnoticed. I almost succeeded. I’m not sure where Rod came from but I wasn’t happy to see him. I knew Rodney Grace well. In middle school, he’d been the bane of my existence for a while. He never went out of his way to get violent with me but it got close. The only thing that stopped him was fear of my brothers. That didn’t stop him from calling me all sorts of names and sneering at me whenever he could. The look that he was giving me now was no sneer. He was licking his lips. I felt sick to my stomach. He was almost to the couch when I felt someone slip down next to me. “Hey, babe,” said a voice as an arm wrapped around my waist. The person spoke loud enough for Rod to hear. The jack ass stopped dead in his tracks and turned on his quickly. I froze at the arm around me. Then slowly turned my head to find Tom Sanders. I almost had a heart attack. I knew Tom. There wasn’t a girl in school who didn’t. He was drop-dead gorgeous. I should know, I’ve looked many times. One might call me gay and I wouldn’t be mad if they thought so. Like I said it was a Whole New World but I wasn’t gay for Tom. I was a girl who just so happened to be crushing. I crushed on him hard. I tried desperately not to show it though. That was a little easier said than done because he was my lab partner. “You ok?” he asked, feeling me tense up. “Huh,” I asked. He took his arm away. “I saw that parasite honing in across the room. Then I saw the pure look of dread on your face. There was a Damsel in need of rescuing”. “I’m fine,” I said in a soft voice. I noticed that even though he removed his arm, he was still sitting pretty close. I moved away. He chuckled. “Is this your first time?” I gave him a look then decided to defuse the situation. “To a party, yes." He smiled then leaned in close. “I knew that. I meant is this your first time out, dressed like that?” Oh shit. He knew. Of course, he knew. We sat next to each other every day. He usually bummed my notes off me whenever he could. Tom was a smart guy but Earth science was not his top subject. I tried to be helpful as I secretly pined for him. All of that was gone now. I was dead meat. I started to shake. Then a second later, I tried to bolt. I managed to get to my feet to make a run for it. This was a mistake. A massively huge one. I would have made the escape too if not for the fake that he was holding my arm. When did that happen? “Calm down, you’re ok,” he said, slowly easing me back to the couch. “I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to tell anyone.” I scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” He sighed. “I would never do that to you. My little sister is like you. So trust me when I say this, I’m not going to out you.” His sister? I was confused. Tom didn’t have a…. Oh. Wow. I was stunned. “I had no idea.” He nodded. “She hides it well. My parents won’t let her be herself at school. She leaves the house every morning absolutely miserable and spends the rest of the day at home the happiest girl in the world. Its because of her that I’ve been watching you.” Watching me? Was he some kind of Perv? I started to get up again but he had a pretty strong grip. “Not like that,” he said with a laugh. “I meant, I realized the two of you were the same. You liked to look at the girls but not like most boys. It took some time but when you grow up with a trans sister, you start to notice the signs. I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Though most of our classmates think you’re a really shy girl. I have to say you clean up really nice. I almost didn’t recognize you.” “Thanks,” I said, very confused and bit scared. Tom was holding all the cards now. “So are you going to tell everyone then?” He shook his head. “No. I’m not a cruel person.” “Then what do you want?” There had to be a reason he was still here. If all he wanted to do was keep me from dealing with Rod, well mission accomplished. “Well,” he said sheepishly. “I was hoping you’d dance with me?” Wait, what? I gave him a look. “I’m a guy. You know that. Why would you want….” He put a finger to my mouth, stopping me. “I see no guy next to me. I see a beautiful girl I’ve been secretly crushing on all year.” No way. “You’re serious?” I asked, surprised and giddy. “Like a heart attack." “You want me?” He smiled. “Well, there was this girl, my lab partner. This quiet, shy thing. I was thinking about asking her out but I figured she was way out of my league.” I giggled. What was I doing? Could I really do this? Could I really dance with Tom? “So have you seen a girl like that around here?” To hell with it. “Sure,” I said, holding out my hand. Tom smiled, took my hand and lead me off to dance. I rested my head on his shoulder for the rest of the night. It was strange really. I definitely did not come here for this. I’m not even sure how it happened. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here. I’m happy to say that I’m glad I came though. As I danced with Tom, all my apprehension about this night, about my life, seemed so little and petty. Sure I had a lot of obstacles ahead of me but for tonight, I could be who I wanted to be, with whoever I wanted to be with. I would deal with everything else tomorrow. Tonight I was Jessica. Here I Am. Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF |
Spectacular
Part One by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Ok so I wasn't planning on posting this one this early, partially because I only have one full chapter written. Lately though, I've been questioning the quality of my writing. Not just as a writer but in general. I really want to know if a story is worth writing before I really get into it or if I should just abandon it and go back to something else. That's what is happening to me a lot lately. I start something, run out of steam halfway through and CAN'T finish it :(. I'm really going to try with this one. The goal here is a short and fun summer tale, maybe 10 chapters or so. I have a pretty good idea what I want to do with it and there's room for more later down the road. This story came about from an idea I had on a walk. Chase is a normal, average teenager with an average life who ends up getting thrust into an extraordinary situation with strange, new and alien things. It might take a bit of any TG element to show up so bear with it for a bit :)
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1.
There was something about the water. It was so serene and peaceful, so relaxing. I felt at home here. Stroke after stroke, gliding from one lap to the next. Not a care in the world. In the water, it felt like all my problems just went away. No teachers, no angry father, no disappointments. It was just me and it. A world of my own. A place where I could be myself, think what I wanted to think, do what I wanted to do. No rules, no responsibilities, not a care in the world.
My place.
I broke the surface for a breath and just long enough to tap the wall before quickly turning and going back. This was sadly only my fifth lap. I was already starting to feel it too, the fatigue. I knew my limit but today I was going to fight through it. I'd been working up to it and trying my hardest to prove I was capable of much more. Sadly I knew my body wasn't. Not without trying though.
That's when I felt it. I was halfway to the other side when I knew I couldn't push it anymore. I inwardly cursed.
“Awesome, Chase, you’re doing great!”
I heard the shout as I stopped, treading water with a pant. Looking around, I spotted my friend Charlie off to the side, waving his stopwatch over his head. He looked so happy and excited. That was Charlie, he the enthusiastic one, always happy, always smiling. I think he was born with one. He was one of those optimistic, “You can do it” kind of guys. In all the years I’ve known him, I don’t think I’d ever seen him upset or angry. We were strangely opposites in that respect. Not that I was an angry person but I’d had my fair share of things to be upset at over the years. Regardless of how upset I got though, he was always there to cheer me up.
Leaving my current lane, I swam over to where my friend was now standing. Charlie reached out to take my hand but hung on the side instead, treading water still.
"I was close," I said, disappointed.
"It was a lot better though," said my friend with an encouraging pat on my shoulder.
"Not good enough though."
It was never going to be sadly.
Charlie bent down, still smiling. Even when I was feeling bad, he was still smiling. Nothing could deter this kid. Here I was upset for not doing my best and he was still smiling. Like I said, complete opposites.
The opposites didn’t end there though.
I was tall and thin, barely enough muscle to keep me moving from one end of the pool to the other. I tried though. It was a sad attempt on my part. I was getting better though. I just wasn't happy with how things were going. Not Charlie though. He was short and stout, like a dwarf from one of those fantasy movies but not quite as tiny. He had that typical Irish/Italian heritage which was pretty common for this area. Whereas I was pushing five ten, Charlie was barely five five. Though he liked to boast he was taller, just so he didn’t feel so short and inferior. That was Charlie too. It was funny really. People always wondered how the two of us could be friends. Walking side by side we looked like the number ten. Yes, there were jokes.
I’d known Charlie most of my life though. We’d been friends since well before I could even remember. Our mothers were friends. They used to go to birthing classes together. It was almost as if we were made to be friends. It was the one constant in the whole world to me. Ok, so maybe the second constant.
The first had to be swimming.
My mother used to say, “I was born to be in the water”. I almost was. Mom went into labor while in the pool. Thankfully Dad managed to get her to the hospital on time for the delivery. She joked about it with me all the time. Well used to joke about it with me. Thinking about her put one of those lumps in my throat. It also made me only want to swim faster. Swimming had been Mom’s thing. She was a World Champion once, nearly Olympic quality. The only thing that stopped her was family. She used to tell me she had no regrets but that didn’t stop me from feeling bad about it.
Mom still liked to swim though.
She got me into it too.
I was in the pool as soon as I could walk. From that moment onward, whenever I got the chance, I was in the water. I would never be a world class swimmer, I knew that. I didn't have the power. Nor the muscle for it. There was also my heart to take into account. I was born with a murmur. It was better now but I'd been pretty sick when I was a child. It kept me from doing a lot of things. The swimming helped though. It just sadly wasn't enough to make me able to compete with others.
That didn’t stop me from trying though.
Its why I was here.
Every day.
Summer was slowly winding down. The new swim season started next month in September. This year I was bound and determined to prove to everyone I was ready for it. I’d been practicing all summer long, a couple days a week. It would have been more but Dad worked most days and I had to stay home to watch my sister, Carrie. She was ten and though she thought she was old enough to stay home by herself for a few hours a day, Dad wouldn’t allow it. So my practice time was when I could manage it.
I was just happy to get any time at all swimming.
I felt at home in the water.
I was still treading water when the door to the pool made a loud banging sound. It echoed off the walls. Turning, I groaned. I must have lost track of time because we were usually out of here before the swim team arrived. They practiced all summer. I usually scheduled my swimming around their time, hoping to avoid them.
Well one of them in particular.
“Hey, it's Ariel, the Little Non-Mermaid!”
Kurt Donner and I have NEVER been friends.
He was a year older than me and never let me forget it. Kurt knew my problems, everyone did. I'd been trying out for the swim teams for as long as I could remember but I never made the cut. I was either too scrawny, too small or not fast enough. Kurt never let me forget it either. He used to like to push me around, harass the hell out of me growing up. He was bigger than me now too, taller with the typical V-shaped upper body that all swimmers craved. It sucked that he was an awesome swimmer too. He was going places. I heard college scouts were already looking at him. There was even talk about the Olympics in a few years. Kurt was a Phelps in training. He shouldn’t have had time for our schoolyard rivalry.
But he was an ass.
That’s how the name “Ariel” came about. It was a dig at my hair. Most of the boys on the team shaved their heads, it was less drag in the water. Me, I had this thing about my hair. Well, actually my mother did. She used to like it when I let it grow long because when it did it was silky smooth and she loved to brush it. I stopped letting it grow ridiculously long in middle school. That didn't stop the name calling though. My hair was reddish brown and it the water---with it streaming behind my back as I swam---I looked a lot like the Disney princess.
Kurt was the only one who still used it though.
To me, it wasn’t a name of endearment either.
Grunting, I pulled myself out of the water. The team was on the other side of the pool, near the entrance to the locker room. I ignored them for the moment. Charlie handed me the towel he was holding, a sour look on his face.
Charlie turned to glare at Kurt. “We could have done without him today.”
Like me, Charlie didn’t have the greatest history with Kurt either. Unlike me though, Kurt was downright nasty to my friend. Being bigger and stronger meant he could push people around. At least in Kurt’s eyes anyway. Charlie was one of his chief targets. Charlie was the kind of kid who took it too. He never fought back, never reported it. He just let Kurt and others like him continue to terrorize him. I tried to help whenever I could but unfortunately, I wasn’t always there to have my friend’s back. That was the problem with the world today, nine out of ten times bully’s got away with it. I know the school had a Zero tolerance policy toward them but only as long as they were caught or reported.
Kurt was slick.
Charlie was still glaring at Kurt. The older teen finally took notice.
“What are you staring at, Tubs!”
“Donner, zip it!” snapped a voice.
Kurt looked surprised, as Coach Grant came wandering out of the locker room. It was nice to know there were some adults out there who cared. Or who noticed. Charlie looked surprised too, probably not expecting the Coach to say anything. That’s not the kind of man Coach Grant was though. Name calling, harassment and especially goofing around. Those things didn’t belong here. He didn’t mind the typical locker room name calling but he knew most of that was in good fun. He also knew the kind of ass that Kurt was. Kurt tried to bust everyone’s balls because he thought he was the best. He was good but there were others who were just as good if not better. I wanted to say something more---maybe even thank the man for caring---but instead I sent Charlie a reassuring smile.
I finished toweling off, giving Kurt a glare of my own.
I didn’t expect a response.
Instead, Kurt and the team started filing toward the benches along the side, getting ready. I watched them with interest. That should have been me. Coach thought so too. Last year, before my first year in high school, I tried out at the end of eighth grade. The Coach told me I had a lot of heart, I just didn’t have enough of it. Well more specifically, I didn’t have the power to keep up with the other guys my age.
The other guys could do way more and keep it going.
I was a liability they couldn’t afford.
I watched the team doing warm-ups as I meandered my way toward the locker rooms. I was nearly toward the door when Coach Grant walked alongside me.
“Looking good out there.”
“Still not good enough though.”
He sighed. “You know I would let you on the team if I could.”
I nodded.
In most circumstances, the Coach would have tried working with me. There were ways to make me improve. I could pack on the pounds then work it into muscle with a steady exercise regiment. The school wouldn't allow it. Well, actually Principal McKenna. I was too much of an insurance liability. They were afraid something might happen to me and were scared they’d get sued. I could still use the school pool to swim laps if I wanted but I wasn’t allowed to compete in any sports or use the weight room.
It was bogus.
It also killed my dreams of a swimming career before it even started.
“You know my offer still stands,” he said, following me into the locker room.
“No offense sir but I don’t want to be the equipment manager.”
The damn Towel boy.
It was a disgrace.
It would also just give Kurt more ammunition.
“Keep working at it, we’ll figure something out.”
He left me there.
I wandered over to my locker, put in the combination and started to dress. I thought about hitting the showers but I didn’t really have the time. It was Saturday. I just had enough time to catch the bus and make it across town to pick Carrie up from Ballet class. If I shower now, I’d miss it. So instead, I pulled my damp hair back in a tiny ponytail and covered it with my hood. I was still a bit wet as I put on my shoes but I’d been a bit distracted out there. Not just with the Coach and Kurt.
It was Mom.
More specifically the accident…
A knocking on the door drew my attention.
“I’m decent” I shouted.
A moment later, the door opened and Charlie came wandering in.
“You disappeared. I looked away one second and the next you were gone.”
I smirked. “I was avoiding The Kurt.”
Its what we called him. Kurt had a tendency to refer to himself in the third person. “Kurt loves that” or “Kurt is horny.” That kind of stupid thing. So Charlie and I started calling him The Kurt as if his ego defined who he was. It was our own shared joke. The funny thing is, another fellow “bottom feeders” overheard us and started spreading the name, secretly half the school called him that now. Until a couple of months ago, when Kurt himself found out. Instead of being offended, the moron wasn’t in on the joke. He started calling himself that too and even spread the rumor he was the one that came up with the name.
It only made things funnier.
Thinking about it made me smile.
It was nice to smile again.
Charlie gave me a look. “You ok?”
“I’m good.”
“You don’t look good.”
“Just thinking”.
“Oh,” he said then softly. “About you...”
“No” I snapped, interrupting him then apologizing.
It wasn’t Charlie’s fault. It wasn’t mine either. It was just one of those things.
“Hey,” said Charlie, trying to change the subject. “You want to head to my house after this, Jay got an advanced copy of the new...”
“Have to get Carrie.”
“Again?”
I sighed. “Dad’s working.”
Its all my father seemed to do lately. He’d always been a bit of a workaholic but after the accident, it's all he did any more. We barely saw him. Everyone deals with tragedy in their own way I suppose and my father it would seem liked to avoid it. I avoided it too but in a different way. Carrie had no problem talking about Mom. Sure she cried just as much as I did but she wasn’t scared to say her name. I couldn’t. Even thinking about her made it hurt. Which of course made me think about her even more. When it happened over a year ago, the school counselor Mrs. Rice wanted me to go see a therapist. Dad wouldn’t allow it though. So I was stuck wallowing in my own little pity party.
It wasn’t fun.
“Maybe you can come over later then?”
I shrugged. “I’ll see what happens.”
“I love your family, Chase,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “And no offense but your dad can be a real dick sometimes.”
I didn’t argue with him.
Instead, I cursed but not because of what he said. He was right. I cursed because I saw the clock on the wall behind him. Carrie’s class was about to get out and I still needed to get to the bus.
Damn it!
Greenfield wasn’t a large city but it wasn’t small by any means either. It had on average about twenty thousand people. When you look at that number and the city proper, it was hard to see where they all were. The city itself was not that much to look at, the tallest building was only about eight stories and the only main attraction to draw in the tourists was the large canal that ran smack through the middle of it. We had all the typical things most cities would have: churches, schools, a police and fire station. Except there were no big things. No multi-screen cineplexes or chain stores. Greenfield was a simple place with simple people.
It was also a city of people late to picking up their sisters.
I cursed as I just barely made the bus.
The driver gave me a nasty look as if I was cursing at her.
I rushed to the back of the bus to find a seat, ignoring the driver’s glare. I dropped down next to an older woman, apologizing for bumping her handbag before whipping out my phone. I checked my messages and wasn’t the least bit surprised to find one from my sister. She was wondering where I was. I sighed as I typed a furious reply:
OMW.
She replied a few seconds later with an Annoyed emoji.
I groaned.
Mom would have too.
She always used to hate when Carrie relied on those little things instead of typing. She wasn’t too thrilled with my sister having a phone at all but she knew she couldn’t deny her one. Everyone had their own phone these days. Carrie’s was supposed to be for emergencies only but being a young girl she was probably never off the thing.
USE YOUR WORDS, I typed.
It was a phrase our mother was fond of.
FINE. YOU OWE ME ICE CREAM.
Of course, I did.
That was Carrie. She always made you pay for something you did wrong. She learned that from Dad. When my parents got married twenty years ago, Dad was a young patrolman straight out of the Academy. Mom was just finishing up her teaching degree. The way my mother used to tell it, Dad didn’t even want to date her. They met at a party and he seemed disinterested, almost career driven. Mom softened him up though, wore him down. They were married a year later. A year after that, they had my older sister Becca. She was a freshman in college now. I came two years after that. I’m not saying Carrie was an accident but she wasn’t planned either. My mother loved us all each and in her own way. Dad on the other hand…
My father wasn’t a cold man by nature.
It's just that if Mom was the loving parent then he had to be the hard one. The Disciplinarian. Dad’s form of discipline was where Carrie got her edge from. “You do something wrong, you make up for it.” Carrie was still pretty young to truly understand what Dad tried to instill in us but she got the principle of it. Dad just used a different kind of wording: “You made a mistake, now fix it.” He wouldn’t have been happy with Carrie extorting me for ice cream but he would have been angrier if he knew I was late picking her up. So the ice cream---in his opinion---would have been payment for my screw up.
He carried that with him to work too.
It helped him become the youngest Chief of Police in the state. Dad was ambitious like that too. It made him put the job first. A part of me hated him for it. Especially after losing Mom. Instead of dealing with the problem, he ignored it with more work. His stubbornness almost sidelined Becca’s college dreams. She was ready to drop out and help raise Carrie but thankfully our Aunt Grace---Dad’s younger sister---stepped in. Ten years younger and single, Grace had the time to help. Unfortunately, that help only came on the weekends. Even with her around though, I still picked up a lot of slack. Like with Carrie. Aunt Grace was awesome but when it came to my sister, the woman just didn’t know what to do.
Like I said, she was a lot like Dad.
ICE CREAM, NO PROBLEM.
A smiley face followed.
I sighed, defeated.
I shut off my phone, stuffing it into my gym bag. It was a loaner from Becca’s track days. Whereas I was the sickly, frail one, my sister was the star athlete. She could have gone to school on a athletics scholarship but she chose a scholastic one instead. She wanted to be a lawyer. Another influence of my father’s. He couldn’t be prouder of her. I didn’t envy my sister but sometimes I wished she didn’t try so hard. It made the rest of us look bad. By the rest of us, I meant me of course. I won’t lie. I wasn’t the son my father was hoping for. My heart condition kept me off most sports teams, it also squashed my father’s dreams of me following him into the police force some day.
He would never openly admit to being disappointed in me but I could see it in his face. Every time he looked at me, he always frowned.
It was painful.
I distracted myself from thinking about him by looking out the window. Sadly there wasn’t much to see. There wasn’t anything impressive to look at in Greenfield. The streets were lined with little shops and brick buildings, broken up by the occasional city tree plot, flower bed, and bench. There was a bustle of people but not nearly as many as one might see in the Fall. Greenfield was not a summer town. Most of the people migrated to the far south for the beaches or to one of the many amusement parks in neighboring cities. The rest either stayed indoors where the AC was constantly blowing.
That made me frown a bit more.
Lazy people bothered me.
I think it had something to do with being cooped up in the house a good portion of my young life. Well until I was ready to go to school anyway. With my heart murmur and a very nervous mother, I spent a lot of time in my room in bed or playing video games. Things changed when the murmur cleared up on its own but it still didn’t stop my mother from being overprotective. Swimming was the one and only constant in my life. It helped me stay active. That’s why it bothered me so much to hear a lot of my friends talking about playing this game or that when they could be outside, walking or running.
Doing something active. Something besides shooting imaginary zombies or bragging about their multiplayer kill death ratio score. Things I didn’t really and never would truly understand. Losing oneself in a game or on your damn phone all the time, it was counterproductive.
I looked away from the window for a moment and scoffed at what I saw. There was a girl my age across the aisle playing a game on her phone. She was the perfect example.
My scoff must have been louder than I thought though because she turned and locked eyes with me. I tried turning away but her eyes were mesmerizing. I think they were green but they looked almost gold too. It had to be a trick of the light or contacts or something. It was strange though because, with her hood up, her eyes were the only thing I really noticed.
The bus came to a stop an instant later but she was standing ever before it did. Weird. She stuffed her phone into a carrier bag and started down the aisle before anyone else. I watched her go, transfixed for a moment more. Others started to file off behind her.
The bus driver shouted at me, “Kid, this your stop!”
I blinked and jumped to my feet a second later.
I thanked her before running out the door.
The bus stop was a couple block from Madam Gertrude’s Studio of Fine Elegance. No, I’m not being an ass, that’s actually what the place is called. Rushing down the sidewalk, I barely noticed that mystery girl was standing in front of me. I nearly bowled over the top of her because she was stopped dead in the middle of my running path. We fell together in a tumble, me on top of her.
Bumping into her had knocked off her hood and I finally got a better look at her. She couldn’t have been much older than me. She had short dark hair, shaved on the sides and streaked red. She had a single ring in her nose, and several in each earlobe. It helped sell the punk look she was trying to embrace. Like her dark makeup, which only helped to enhance those strange “gold” eyes of hers more.
"Are you ok?' I grunted, pushing myself off of her.
"Watch where you're going!"
"Me?" I said, annoyed. "You're the one who was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring into space!"
This time she grunted. She snapped to her feet quickly. Scary fast in fact. As soon as she did, she turned to glare at me. I quickly pulled myself up, embarrassed. As soon as I did, I was surprised that she was actually taller than me. It was rare to find a girl taller than me. She was at least two inches taller, which meant...wow.
There weren’t too many six foot girls around here.
Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to her before.
It wasn’t just her height though.
She was ripped. Her hoodie was sleeveless and I could see her arms. They were well muscled. It kind of surprised me more. This girl was clearly some kind of serious athlete. Judging by her height and those arms, I’d say Volleyball player easily. It was strange though because I’d never seen her before. Greenfield wasn’t exactly a bustling tourist town so for her to be from another city, it was pretty rare. I suppose she could be here to see the canal but why get off a bus here? I looked around. Wasn't the canal in the other direction too?
“You are tall enough,” she said, after sizing me up. “Perhaps you could take me in a fight.”
Fight, what?
“I don’t want to fight you!”
She smirked. “Smart boy, you’d lose.”
What the hell?
I was about to say something else but my phone buzzed.
I cursed.
Pulling it out of my bag, I checked my message:
WHERE R U?
Crap.
I looked at the time. Carrie’s class got out ten minutes ago.
Damn.
Dad was going to be pissed already.
I looked at Giant girl, shaking my head. “Have fun with whatever?” I said, stepping around her.
If she said anything, I was already too far away to hear.
It was all weird. I finally meet a girl that was semi-interesting and the first thing she wanted to do was kick my ass. Must be my lucky day. I rushed away, typing a quick apology as I did. She replied with a couple more disapproving emojis and more demands. I sighed. I would probably end up catering to them all or face the wrath of both her and Dad. Dad I could deal with, Carrie scared the hell out of me.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Two by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Ch.2, finally. So I was planning on posting this a couple of days ago but got sidetracked with a bit of MMO stuff. I'm on track with this story currently so that's a good thing, I just finished Ch.3 this morning. This chapter is the beginning of the weird things. There will be a certain amount of weirdness in this story, not like Whisper Pines though. A different kind. You'll start to see it at the end of this chapter. The picture might be a hint ;). Also I'd like to thank everyone who commented on my last chapter and said all those nice things, its helped boost my writing confidence a great deal. I was pretty depressed about my writing as of late, so thanks again.
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2.
Carrie didn’t look happy, which scared me even more.
I saw her as soon as I rounded the corner. There were six girls milling about the front of the dance studio, all of them in pink leotards and tights. Carrie was looking around, annoyed. I sighed. She stood out from all the rest and not because of her auburn hair. Though only ten, she was already the tallest girl in her class. It was Dad’s genes. The man was six foot three and quite the presence. We took after him in our own way. Becca and I were the same height which wouldn’t have been a problem for me but it bothered Dad. He thought I was too short. He had two older brothers, both of them over six feet. Even Aunt Grace was tall. My male cousins were pushing six feet and above too. I was somehow the disgraced male member of the Matthews clan. My height was just one more of the many disapproving things my father hated about me.
I slowed down my pace as I approached.
“Hey Bun Head,” I said, trying to lighten her sour mood.
It didn’t help.
“Dad’s mad,” she said, waving her phone.
Of course, he is.
I was about to tell her what I thought of it but then realized I was about to tell it to a ten-year-old. I gave her a weak smile and said nothing.
“So what’s my punishment?”
She smiled. “Marsh’s.”
She was letting me off the hook this time.
Last week when I forgot her, she made me give her a piggyback ride all the way to the bus stop home. We lived in a newer development just outside the city. It was one of the furthest things from civilization, save maybe the cow and apple farms beyond it. Being the Chief of Police, Dad had one of the bigger houses in the neighborhood, not that it mattered much. Most of the houses there were pretty large. The elite of the elite was supposed to live there: doctors, lawyers, dickheads. Kurt lived there. Most of his cronies did too. Growing up there hadn’t been a walk in the park. Especially because Charlie lived in an apartment complex on the opposite side of town and not one of the fancier ones.
Dad frowned on that friendship too.
Nothing I did was ever good enough for my father.
“So your torture is to make me go to work on my day off?” I asked.
She didn’t say anything.
Marsh’s was a General store that sold pretty much everything. I worked there part-time during school and most of the time over the summer. It wasn’t the best job but it put money in my pockets. My boss---Mr. Marsh---wasn’t a bad guy so that was a plus. The store was a local staple, the Marsh’s having owned it for years. The way old man Marsh tells it, his great-grandfather built it at the turn of last century. He took over from his father in the 1950s. The store had that old Mom and Pop vibe to it. It was a favorite for a lot of the kids Carrie’s age though. It was one of the few places around that still had a Soda shop and they had a section that sold candy for a dime.
Kids like Carrie ate that stuff up.
It helped that it was only around the corner from the dance studio.
Taking Carrie by the hand---much to her distaste---I walked her to the shop.
It was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The place was usually bustling with kids, running about, screaming. Doing the things that kids do. I pushed open the door, the bell chimed to announce us. As soon as we were inside, Carrie pulled away and took off. No doubt to load up on a bunch of junk I was going to pay for later. I watched her little bun head disappear down one of the many aisles before I meandered about. I was trying to be inconspicuous. Most of the kids knew me, knew I worked here. It didn’t matter that it was my day off, if they wanted something, they’d badger me for it. Thankfully my hood hid most of my face. One of the regulars rushed right by me without even noticing.
“Chase!”
I grunted.
So much for being all stealthy.
I turned, smiling at the owner of the voice.
“Hey, Kel!”
Kelly was Mr. Marsh’s granddaughter. Unlike me, the girl never seemed to take a day off. She was always here, always doing something. Today it was sweeping the floors apparently. Like Charlie, she was usually all smiles. Today was no different. When Kelly was around, her bubbly personality was infectious. I found myself smiling too. I liked Kelly a lot. Not in any sexual way either. I’m not going to lie though, she was cute. She had flaxen blonde hair, a smattering of freckles and baby blue eyes. She was sadly taken. Her boyfriend Rodney was on the basketball team. Most things told me I should hate him but I didn’t. Rod was a great guy. He was one of those guys with the golden heart: he helped little old ladies across the street, he offered you his umbrella in the rain, he stuck up for you if he saw you in trouble.
Everything that Kurt wasn’t.
“Chase, isn’t this your day off?”
She had stopped sweeping and was giving me a false frown.
“Carrie,” I said as if it explained everything.
She giggled. “I think she’s in here more than you, maybe I should ask Pops to hire her too.”
We shared a laugh.
“Pops” is what everyone called Mr. Marsh.
Its what he told us to call him.
“Does she sweep better than certain girls I know?” asked Pops as he passed by carrying a box.
Without even thinking, I reached forward and took the box from him.
Pops was pushing seventy and was starting to show it. Not that he’d ever admit it though. At one time, he’d been a pretty active guy. He had awards and trophies to prove it. His office was decorated with them. Most of his accolades had been in boxing though. Not that you could tell by looking at him though. Age had taken its toll. I’d seen pictures of the younger man and it was hard to make a comparison. Gone was the buff, muscled man with the full head of hair and the toothy smile. In his place was a stooped elderly gentleman with thinning hair and a toothless grin.
“You’re off today,” he said, trying to take the box back from me.
I wouldn’t allow it.
He stopped trying with a grunt.
I said goodbye to his granddaughter then followed him to the back room where the box was clearly going.
“So how’s the swimming going?”
I sighed. “Not as well as I would like.”
It was true. I was hoping this summer training would make a difference, it wasn’t. It wasn’t a total disaster but I was pretty much where I was at the beginning of it. No amount of anything was making any headway. It was almost as if my body was stuck at default. No matter how much I trained or ate, I just couldn’t seem to change it. The start of my junior year was only a couple of weeks away too. Swim team tryouts were next week. It was beginning to look like I was finished before I even got started.
“Sounds to me like you’re giving up?”
I shrugged. “Don’t have much of a choice.”
Pops smacked me in the back of the head. It wasn’t meant to be malicious or anything. It was his way to “knock some sense into me” as he liked to call it.
It had the effect he desired.
“There’s always a choice,” he said “and there’s no quitters. Not here. I didn’t win all those trophies by quitting...”
I nodded as he talked. I heard this speech before so I tuned most of it out.
He was halfway through it when he stopped and glared at me. “You’re not listening are you?”
“Of course I am.”
He huffed.”You, young people, have no respect...”
He went off on that.
This tirade was a little harsher. He meant well though. He was just one of those older people who thought they couldn’t understand “our generation”. It was a wicked cycle. I bet his grandparents had the same tirade when he was my age. Pops wasn’t old school though. He was a pretty active man. Just last year, he and his son went on a hiking trip across Europe. Of course, that was before he had his knee surgery. Now the man was a shell of his former self. That didn’t stop him though. Like trying to do his own inventory and stocking. I couldn’t even count how many times I had to intervene on that bit. I wasn’t exactly Hercules but at least I was strong enough to carry the larger boxes.
“You’re not paying attention again...”
I sighed. “I’m sorry, Pops, I’m distracted today.”
“Girl trouble?”
I scoffed.
I wish.
I had a girlfriend once: Lacy Peters. Or as Charlie liked to call her, “Looney Lacy”. Not that she was crazy or anything. She was just very enthusiastic. She was a bit of a glitter nut and liked to bedazzle everything. We dated for a bit in seventh grade. The relationship ended after she gave me a bedazzled t-shirt with a kitten on it. When she tried to get me to wear it to school, I called it quits. A shirt like that was blood in the water. It all worked out in the end though. Lacy was with George Dietz now---he collected bugs---it was a strange match made in heaven.
Lacy was sadly my first and last girlfriend.
Not that I didn’t try after her. Seventh grade was the beginning and the end for me sadly. The summer before eighth grade, ninety percent of my peers hit puberty in a big way. Most of the guys started to grow in height, hair and sadly muscle. Being under six foot I didn’t have the desired height, I barely grew any hair on my face and my muscles. That’s where the real problem started. Most girls my age weren’t looking for the tall, thin and scrawny type. Add to the fact that my auburn mop made me look like a darker haired Ron Weasley and well, I wasn’t exactly a chick magnet.
"There hasn’t been one of those for me in a while” I finally confessed to the older man.
Pops nodded, gently gripping my shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that my boy, I didn’t meet my Mary until I was in college”. He looked over at the picture of his wife on the wall. “God rest her soul.”
I never knew Mrs. Marsh.
She passed away even before Kelly was born.
Pops talked about her a lot though.
She seemed like a nice woman.
I smiled. “Maybe someday.”
We left it at that. Pops shooed me out of the storeroom. I left reluctantly. I knew what was going to happen. He’d continue to bring in boxes by himself. He was stubborn like that. It was one of the reasons why I dreaded taking days off. The man was constantly bringing in new supplies. When I wasn’t here, there was no one else to help him. Kelly and I were the only employees. Pops never liked the help. The only reason he even agreed to hire me was that Kelly’s Dad talked him into it. He was a cop too. Unlike my Dad though, he was just a patrolman. That didn’t make him any less of a police officer though. In fact, I respected him for it more than I did my father. Kelly’s Dad was actually out on the streets, making a difference.
My Dad never left his office anymore.
“Pops, maybe I should...”
He cut me off. “It is your day off, enjoy it!”
Any further protest on my part was interrupted by the arrival of my sister. She was carrying a large brown bag in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other.
“I need money!”
I rolled my eyes. Taking out my wallet, I handed her a twenty.
“I want change!” I shouted as she ran off to pay for her stuff.
I knew she heard me. Whether or not she actually listened was another story.
Carrie came wandering back a few minutes later with a big smile on her face.
“My change?”
She gave me a look with a wicked smile.
Damn.
The bus stop home was only a block or so from Marsh’s.
It took some convincing to drag Carrie away though. When she got going, she really got going. Even after she made me buy all that junk for her too. I literally had to pick her up and carry her out the door. It was quite the scene. Carrie even fought me a bit. Her struggle was for show though. My sister liked to play games. One of them was to annoy the hell out of me. Every weekend we played the “I don’t want to leave” game. She thought it was funny. Me, not so much. Especially a couple of weeks ago when a police officer didn’t know she was pretending to be an annoying little brat. When my sister explained to him he laughed but that didn’t stop him from telling our father.
Dad didn’t think it was funny.
And yet, I got in trouble for it.
Go figure.
Carrying her---while she threw a fake tantrum---drew the eyes of several passersby. I ignored them. Then pretended to carry her over to the trashcans. This was my part of the game, pretending to "throw her out". I opened the lid on one, preparing to throw her in.
That was usually the end of her charade.
“Ok, ok!”
I set her down.
She giggled.
“You were going to do it this time, weren’t you?”
I shrugged.
She faked a pout. “You’re the worst”.
“Says the girl who throws a fake fit whenever she doesn’t get her own way.”
She stuck out her tongue.
We both laughed.
To look at us, one might not think we got along but that’s how we liked it. Our animosity toward each other was pretend like her games. We were actually pretty close. A lot closer than I’d ever been to Becky. It was strange. Becky and I were closer in age to one another but we never really got along. She was the outgoing jock and I was her sickly, bedridden little brother. Becky was Miss Popular too, she had a load of friends, went to a bunch of parties, even dabbled with cheerleading for a bit. Me, well I was the complete opposite. Charlie was the only true friend I had. It was worse for Carrie and Becky. Becky was nearly ten when Carrie was born. The decade of age difference was a pretty big deal. It's not that Becky didn’t have time for her, it's just that Becky was a teenager by the time Carrie really started wanting that sisterly love.
Now it was too late.
Becky was off to college.
She tried of course. I think it was hard. Becky was willing to give up everything to help us but she wasn’t a mother. Carrie needed that. Aunt Grace was great when she was here but Carrie needed something more permanent. I tried my best but I just didn’t have what my little sister was looking for. It sucked. It was a shame too because if I could, I’d be there. I mean the way she wanted and needed. Of course, I’d never admit that to anyone. It's not every day that a teenage boy would willingly admit he’d “mother” his little sister if he could.
Speaking of which:
“I’m hungry.”
I looked down at her. “You’re kidding right?” She shrugged. “Carrie, you just ate an ice cream cone and truck ton of candy?”
She shrugged again.
I looked at my watch. Technically all I had to do today was pick her up from dance class. Dad never said anything about getting her home afterward. Looking around, I tried to see what was closest. I knew there was a little diner not too far away but I also knew my sister. She was going to want fast food. I pulled out my cell, looking for the nearest one. I was only partially familiar with this part of town. I usually took a bus here, went to work and took one home. Except when I had to pick up the squirt of course. Even then, we only went to Marsh’s afterward. I only knew about the diner because I’d been there a couple of times.
I found one.
“There’s a Mickie Dee’s a couple of blocks away?”
Her smile was enough.
We walked.
This time she didn’t try to protest about me holding her hand.
We found McDonald's on the left, across the street. We were almost to the crosswalk when Carrie stopped and pointed:
“Look!”
I looked. At first, I thought she was pointing at the familiar restaurant until I noticed where her finger was pointing too. There was a little street kiosk set up. A pleasant looking older woman was harking wares out of a wooden cart. Squinting I saw the glint of several colorful gems. I groaned. My sister was at that age where little girls craved all things shiny. Mom had a lot of jewelry but Carrie was sadly not allowed to touch it. Aunt Grace bought her a kid jewelry set last year for Christmas. It was all cheap plastic costume jewelry but she’d been ecstatic about it. Looking at the old woman with her necklaces, I inwardly groaned.
I knew where this was going.
Carrie started tugging on my hand.
As soon as the light turned, she pulled me across the road.
We went right past our destination and of course right to the cart. I tried to be polite and return the old woman’s smile.
“Well don’t you look adorable!” she gushed at my little sister.
I’d almost forgotten Carrie was still in her bun head outfit.
“Thank you,” said, my little sister. “I’m a ballerina.”
She did a little pirouette.
Carrie was a big show off.
The woman smiled. “That you are and a pretty one at that.”
My sister blushed.
I did my best not to be noticed. The woman gave me another smile. It was warm and welcoming. The kind of grandmother might give. This woman definitely had that grandmotherly like quality to her. She couldn’t have been more than sixty. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, most of it going gray. She was dressed sharp though, not dowdy as one might expect. She wasn’t like the typical street vendors that’s for sure. The city was known for them. There were a lot of little shops like this but I’d never seen one so far from Main Street. Looking from her to her necklaces, they didn’t look cheap either.
They looked well crafted.
And expensive.
Carrie’s eyes were as big as saucers.
I groaned.
I knew what was coming next.
“Chase, I want one!”
“I just bought you ice cream and a bunch of candy.”
She pouted, not fake this time.
“These are so much cooler though”.
I rolled my eyes. The woman looked from her to me. She gave me another warm look. “You know, I am currently running a deal. Two for one. I’ve got quite the selection.”
“I’m not sure I can...”
“Half off too.”
That was generous of her. I knew how this was going to go. Carrie was already pleading with me with those eyes. The death stare. I knew there was no way I was going to escape it. She knew it too. She was a Master at that stare. Even our stone cold, stoic father fell for it.
I sighed.
Defeated.
“Ok fine,” I said finally.
"I want this one," she said, reaching for one but stopping. "No this one!"
She was holding one with a purple stone but if I knew my sister she'd probably change her mind in a couple of seconds. Just as I had that thought, the purple one went back on the cart. I rolled my eyes. I was trying to feign interest when Carrie surprised me:
“You need one too!"
"Why?"
'Because I can't look cool alone!"
"Carrie, boys don't wear stuff like this".
"Please?"
She was using the eyes and the pout again.
Great.
The woman continued to smile at me. “You know I do have a couple of nice, more masculine ones.”
She winked.
I did my best to smile back. “Its fine really.”
I looked at the large assortment she had. I didn’t really know much about this stuff. I knew though that if I didn’t pick something, Carrie would whine. When she set her mind to something, that was the end of it. If she wanted me to have one, then I was going to have to buy one. Though I think most of her excitement was over the fact that I was even letting her have one in the first place. So I did my best to try and find one that I could hide away in a drawer somewhere that no one would ever see.
I tried to find one of the "masculine" ones she mentioned. Guys wore necklaces, right? Surely she had something here that could appease me. I started looking over the ones that weren't all glittery and gaudy. I thought I found one that matched my style, it was silver, with a cool skull pendant. I started to reach for it but stopped. My eyes were suddenly drawn to something else.
It was on a thin chain and shaped a bit like a water drop.
Aquamarine.
I knew it well.
It was my birthstone.
More than that, it was my mother’s stone too.
Mom and I were both born in March. When I was growing up though, she used to go out of her way to always buy me something blue. Most of them were a darker blue though. Boys didn’t like light blue, it was too girly. I’d always had a soft spot for it though. It reminded me of her. Mom used to have an aquamarine necklace too. The gem on hers though was pretty tiny compared to the one sitting in front of me.
I absently reached for it.
The woman followed my eyes. When her eyes fell on the necklace, they widened a bit.
“How did that get...” she said softly, surprised.
I paused, looking at her face.
“Something wrong?” I asked, confused.
She shook her head. “No, it's just...well...I didn’t think I packed that one today.”
She was stumbling over her words a bit.
“Is there something wrong with it?”
I pulled my hand away, afraid.
I hope it wasn’t cursed or something.
She chuckled. “No, nothing like that. It's just...well...I’ve had that one for years. I’ve tried selling it but no one seems to be drawn to it. I finally stopped trying. I thought I left it back at the shop but this old gal ain’t what she used to be. Must have packed it without looking.”
“It's my birthstone,” I said, absently staring at it.
It was weird.
I’d never really been interested in necklaces. There was something about that one though.
It was almost as if it spoke to me.
I reached out for it, my fingertips hovering over it.
Carrie beat to it.
“Oh, it's really pretty!” she said, snatching it up. “Like Mom’s”
Huh.
Carrie held the aquamarine necklace in one hand and her current selection, a pink one. She stared from one to the other before putting the pink necklace down. A second later she picked up another necklace, one with an identical stone to the one I was “supposed” to have.
The old woman smiled. “Are you sure you’re all set?”
Carrie nodded. “These two are perfect, like sisters!”
I groaned.
That’s the last thing I needed.
The two necklaces ended up costing me sixty bucks. It wasn’t that bad a deal. I paid the woman. She put them in a little velvet bag and handed them to my sister. Carrie beamed at her like an idiot. The woman smiled and waved. We started to walk away when she gently touched my arm.
“Young man,” she said, her voice soft and low. “You look after that now, it's very special.”
I humored her with a smile and a nod.
Weirdo.
I started to follow Carrie back toward the McDonalds.
We were just going through the door when I felt something.
A tingle in my hand.
It was only there for a second though.
What was that?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Three by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: As promised, here's Ch.3 one week later. I'm sorry about that. Some personal, very avoidable issues came up last week preventing me from writing. As I said in my blog last week, I like to have at least a chapter or two buffer before I post the next one. I finished Ch.4 a few days ago and hope to have Ch.5 finished in the next day or two. If I'm lucky, I might even get to Ch.6 this week. On a side note, I've decided to post pictures for the chapter based on the chapter. Its something I did with Whisper Pines and I think it turned out well. Thanks again for reading and your patience.
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3.
The Barbarian smashed his giant hammer into my face, slamming me to the ground. A second later, GAME OVER flashed across the screen. Charlie cheered. He was the Barbarian after all. Me, I’d been the little Elf girl he just smeared across the ground. I groaned. There was a reason I hated these kinds of games. To be honest, I wasn’t really fond of most games. Charlie always seemed to drag me into them though. Games were his thing. You could almost say he lived and breathed them. Like I said, we were complete opposites. I tried though. It was hard to enjoy something that you hated though. It was the same when I tried to get him to do some swimming with me.
I sighed, setting my controller down.
On the screen, his Barbarian was doing some crazy victory dance.
“You ok?” he asked, giving me a strange look.
I shrugged. “Same.”
He set down his controller. “We can stop if you want or play something else...”
I tuned him out.
Not that I was being rude, its just Charlie was talking games. Whenever he talked games, I felt like a complete idiot. The same could be said when I talked swimming I suppose. The difference between the two things though was that Charlie was supportive of my attempt at the sport. I was not supportive of the gaming though. If that made me a bad friend then so be it. There was no way I was going to enthusiastically cheer my friend on in his quest to be a perpetual couch potato.
“We can stop if you want?”
I shrugged again. “I think I might head home actually.”
Charlie didn’t look happy but he didn’t say anything either.
We were finding it harder and harder to hang out these days. I’d like to say it was because of my mother’s death but I would just be using that as an excuse. Our friendship had been strained for a while now. Its what happens when two people don’t really have anything in common. When we were younger, it was easier. We do the things that most kids that age would do. In small doses anyway. I didn’t mind games back then because I was young and didn’t have a lot I could do. When I wasn’t home in bed, I barely had the energy to do much else. As I got older and my heart condition was less severe, I was able to do more. Sadly, Charlie never took the initiative like me. He did try once but it never really stuck.
Now, I could barely get him to walk to the bus stop.
“You want me to ask Jay if he’ll drive you home?”
Jay was Charlie’s older brother. He like Charlie was a perpetual gamer but unlike Charlie, Jay had a social life. He had a job and car too.
“No, I’m good.”
Coming home with Jay would have just caused problems. It was Sunday, Dad would be home today. Whereas Dad was semi-miffed about my friendship with Charlie, he would have gone ballistic to see me with Jay. Charlie’s brother was a known pothead. He’d been in and out of county lockup for that and other small infractions. Usually petty crap but enough for my father. He made it pretty clear that I wasn’t allowed to hang out with Jay if he was around. Not that I ever would. Jay was usually high and usually too stoned out of his mind to even cobble two sentences together.
Charlie followed me out of his room and through the empty apartment. Like my Dad, Charlie’s Mom worked most of the time. Unlike my Dad, she had to take two jobs. One as a waitress on the weekends and one as a cleaner at one of the office buildings. Charlie’s Dad bailed a long time ago. He was a drunk, when he wasn’t slugging on a bottle, he was slugging at his family. That all stopped when Jay kicked his ass. Hey, the guy might be a stoner but when he was lucid, he apparently threw a mean right hook. Charlie’s old man bailed after that. Just as well. As much as I didn’t care for Jay, I really HATED their Dad.
Outside, my friend rubbed his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing for some slight he thought he did me.
“For what?”
He sighed. “Not being cooler.”
‘What are you talking about?”
Charlie looked at his feet, toeing the ground. “I’m grateful that you still hang with me even though you don’t want too. I get it. We used to be great friends but now...”
I cut him off there. “Charlie, I want to hang with you!”
He looked up at me, surprised. “But earlier...the game...”
I sighed.
So he noticed.
I was hoping I could hide the fact that I wasn’t really into it. It wasn’t that I was trying to be bored with the game, its just that well...I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’d been pretty distracted lately. The last few days had been the worst too. Before I thought it was just because I was so focused on making the team but now, it was as if nothing I did seemed to satisfy me anymore. There was this void in my life and I couldn’t fill it. I’d been feeling this way for a while now too. I thought maybe it was Mom’s death, that my grief was causing this overwhelming sense of loss. I’d been doing some research about it online, I knew depression did some nasty things to people.
It wasn’t that though.
Sure Mom being gone left a huge hole in my life but it was more than that.
It was almost as if there was something I should be doing but I couldn’t.
It wasn’t swimming either.
“It's not you, Charlie” I finally confessed. “I’ve just been feeling pretty empty lately. Like my life is going nowhere and there’s something out there for me but I just can’t get it...”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you should talk to someone after all.”
I scoffed. “Like my father would ever allow that!”
Charlie didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have too.
It took a few seconds to say anything actually.
“Just...I’m not… dissing you, ok” I finally said. “We’re still friends, I’m just kinda dealing with some of my own crap on top of everything else.”
Charlie opened his mouth but wherever he was about to say was drowned out by sirens.
A moment later, two police cars blazed by us. They were followed quickly by a fire truck. I snapped my head in the direction they were going. There was a plume of smoke rising into the air. Shit. It wasn’t every day you saw a fire that big. Especially not in the city proper. Sometimes you heard about house fires and things. It happens. Something like that in the city though. The first cars were followed quickly by several more. Charlie and I watched in stun silence.
“What’s going on?” he finally asked.
I shook my head. “I better get home though, I bet Dad will be called in on this.”
I whipped out my cell and called for a cab.
Or tried too.
The line was busy.
Cursing, my phone rang a second later.
I didn’t even have to look to know who was on the other end:
“I know Dad,” I said, annoyed.
“I don’t have time for the tone,” said my equally annoyed father. “I need you home here to look after your sister.”
“I’m trying but the cab company is busy.”
I could almost see him rubbing his temples.
Its what he did when he was frustrated.
“Where are you?” he asked, a moment later.
“Charlie’s.”
I heard him groan. “I’ll send a patrolman to pick you up.”
Wow.
He didn’t usually do something like that unless something really bad happened.
Like when Mom died…
“Is it bad?” I asked, concerned and a bit scared.
I looked toward the smoke.
“Its...just...I need to get to the office.”
He left it at that.
Damn.
Dad never really talked about his work. He had a policy: Work was Work and Home was Home. That still didn’t stop him from making the passing comment here or there though. Usually about how tiring, hectic or even boring his day had been. Life had been a lot more exciting for him back when he was in a car and not behind the desk. At least that’s what he used to say. At nearly fifty, Dad wasn’t getting any younger. He was also behind a desk as long as I could remember. The Chief of Police thing was new. He’d only been promoted last year, a few months before Mom...well…
The thing was, I couldn’t remember the last time Dad insisted on going to the office on his day off.
Whatever this was, it must have been serious.
I turned and looked toward the smoke.
I could hear several sirens now.
“What did he say?” asked Charlie, after I ended the call.
I’d forgotten my friend was still standing there.
“He’s sending someone for me.”
“No shit!”
Yeah, my sentiments exactly.
The patrol car arrived about twenty minutes later.
Charlie and I had spent the time sitting on the front steps, pondering what was going on. We had some crazy theories from the more realistic terrorist attack to the far-fetched alien invasion. The aliens were his idea. Charlie was the less rational out of the two of us. Not that I didn’t believe in aliens, it's just that I was pretty certain they weren’t going to choose Greenfield as the top place to invade. Charlie didn’t agree. He said it was the best place. He tried to use movie logic on me, which I tuned out. To say I was grateful to see the car pull up was an understatement.
Being grateful to see a cop in this neighborhood was like an oxymoron.
“I’ll see you later,” I said to Charlie as I approached the car.
I smiled as I saw the driver.
“Hey Uncle Frank,” I said, to the gruff looking fellow peering out the open window.
He didn’t like the neighborhood either.
“Hey kid,” he said, smiling too.
I opened the passenger door and climbed inside.
Frank wasn’t really my uncle, he was, however, my father’s oldest friend. They went through the Academy together. Whereas Dad went all fast track with his career, Frank was perfectly happy on the streets. He never married, had no kids, so he never really had a reason to want more. He lived in a quaint apartment on the other side of town, kept mostly to himself and loved the hell out of the Yankees. Though Dad had brothers, Frank was more of an uncle to me than any of them. Dad and Aunt Grace were the only ones of his family still in the state. I loved my Dad’s brothers but they never around much.
Frank was the best and closest thing to a real uncle that I had.
Hence the reason why he let me sit in the front seat.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I buckled myself safely inside.
He sighed. “Some kind of gas leak I think”.
I nodded but I wasn’t sure if I believed him.
This neighborhood wasn’t exactly well populated.
I wouldn’t exactly call it the Slums but it definitely wasn’t all high rises and condos either. Not that we had stuff like that here in Greenfield. Regardless of that, I knew what was over there. Charlie’s apartment block was right on the edge of the old industrial district. At one time, most of this area was big factories. There used to be an auto parts factory over there. Now though, it was all old abandoned buildings. Mostly warehouses and the like. Lots of vagrants and junkies lived there. There was no way it could have been a “gas leak” because there was no gas. There was also all that smoke. Since when did gas leaks have smoke too?
I smirked.
Maybe there was a crazy conspiracy here after all.
Charlie was so hellbent on it being aliens.
He even claimed to have seen strange lights over there the other night.
Wasn’t a Gas Leak the company line for an invasion?
I laughed.
“Something funny?”
I shook my friend. “Charlie and I were trying to figure out what was going on. He’s convinced its aliens, even claims he saw lights in the sky.”
Frank gave me a look.
For a moment, I thought he might actually tell me Charlie wasn’t lying. It was one of those looks. Then he smiled. “You kids need to get out more.”
“He needs to get out more. I get out plenty.”
Swimming wasn’t my only exercise after all. I did a fair share of jogging too. I tried full blown running but I just didn’t have the stamina for it. I jogged every morning though. Well tried too. Some mornings---like today---I just didn’t feel like it. My failed attempt at swimming the other day was discouraging. For the last two days since I’d been lazing around, feeling sorry for myself. If Charlie hadn’t called this morning, I probably would have still been in bed. It was that empty feeling. Now it was keeping me from doing the things I liked to do.
“So was anyone hurt?” I asked.
“You’ll see soon enough,” said Frank, turning the car in that direction. “Your Dad asked me to check in.”
Dad was there?
A moment or two later, Frank pulled the car up to the roadblock where two uniforms were stationed. He rolled down the window, causing one of them to wander over.
The officer looked into the car with a laugh. “Hey Franko, aren’t the perps supposed to be in the back?”
He and Frank shared a laugh.
“Not the Chief’s kid, Skip.”
The officer---Skip---quickly stopped laughing.
I gave Officer Henderson a cold hard look. I was trying to mimic my Dad but failed miserably. Instead, I burst into laughter instead. The Officer looked scared for a moment but sighed when he heard me laugh.
“Let me call it in,” said Officer Skip a second later.
He took a step back, speaking into his shoulder mic. I couldn’t hear what was being said but he waved us past. I was surprised by that. If this place was so dangerous then why were they letting a civvie like me through? Frank didn’t bat an eye though and drove around the little barricade. He didn’t go very far though. There were a couple of squad cars off to the side. He pulled alongside one of them. From this angle, I could get a better view of what was going on. I couldn’t see much through all the smoke but there were more than a dozen police cars there. I saw at least three fire trucks too. All of them putting water on one of the warehouses. The smoke was billowing from its windows.
Strangely I saw no fire though.
Dad appeared a few seconds later. He was dressed in his sharp gray suit but I noticed his tie was missing. He was sweating too. Well, it was a hot day. I was sweating a bit myself. I looked at him as he approached. Dad cut quite the figure, six foot three and just as menacing. Age hasn't slowed him in the least either. The man ate like a health nut and exercised constantly. The back half of our garage was even converted into a work out room.
He ran a hand through his sweat-drenched buzz cut as he approached the car.
He leaned down to speak to Frank.
“He give you any problems?”
“No, sir.”
When Dad was on the job, I didn’t exist. It was the same with my sisters. When he spoke to us it was official. That was even when he did. Most times, he referred to us in the third person.
I was actually surprised when he looked at me.
I saw a worn and haggard man look back.
I was shocked.
I just got off the phone with him less than an hour ago.
How was he so beat already?
“I want you to head home immediately. No stops. When you get there, make sure you and your sister stay inside. Set the alarm too.”
Shit, this was serious.
Dad never told us to set the alarm during the day.
“What’s going on?” I asked, concerned.
He turned away from me. “I want you to stick around the house for a bit. Just to be on the safe side.”
“Sure, no problem, boss.”
He looked at me again. “I’ll be home when I can.”
With that, he turned and walked away. I watched him go. At the perimeter of the smoke, he stopped to talk to one of the firemen there. I watched for a moment before something else caught my eye. No, not something, someone.
A person.
I only saw them for a minute though.
They were on the other side of the road, watching from the shadows between two warehouses. For a moment, I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing until they moved. It was strange because they were tall and moved incredibly fast. One minute they were there then the next they were gone.
“What the hell,” I said softly to myself.
“You see something, kid?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
Wait, why didn’t I tell him?
Uncle Frank didn’t say anything more. He started the car back up and turned it around. The rest of the ride was in relative silence, which was fine by me because it gave me a moment to think. Did I see someone or not and if I did, what were they doing there? How did they even get there? The police had the whole area on lockdown. I found it pretty hard to believe that someone could just slip through that and not get noticed. Especially someone as tall as the person I thought I saw.
I tried not to think about it anymore.
Just as well because it only took about ten minutes to get home.
Frank dropped me off in the driveway.
“I’m going to sit here for a couple of hours, per your father’s wishes.”
I nodded. “You need anything, like a drink or something to eat, you know where to find it."
He gave me a nod before I climbed out of the car and walked slowly to the house. Inside, I found Carrie already sprawled out on the couch, watching TV.
“Dad’s on the News.”
“I’ve seen him.”
She was still at that enthusiastic and impressionable age.
I walked over anyway. I stood behind the couch and looked at the TV. It was one of those large 50 inch flat screens, Dad insisted on it. Sure enough, my father was on the news. I noticed he put his tie back on. He was being interviewed by the girl from Channel 4. They must have arrived after I left. It didn’t matter. What mattered was what my father was saying. Apparently, they ruled out a gas leak and now they believed it was an act of arson. I suppose that finally explained the smoke.
“Do you have any leads, Chief Matthews?”
“One,” said Dad, surprising me.
What surprised me, even more, was the sketch that appeared on the screen:
It was her.
The tall girl from a couple of days ago.
“Eyewitnesses put this young lady at the scene,” said Dad, the sketch was up in the corner of the screen.
It was a good likeness.
“Anyone who has any information about this girl” my father continued “are asked to call the Greenfield police department.”
The reporter started to end the broadcast but I was already making my way to my room.
Carrie shouted something about food but I ignored her.
What were the odds?
I walked into my room, flopping down on my bed as I did so. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. As I did so, I absently started fingering the necklace around my neck.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Four by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: So I'm happy to say that I'm actually two chapters ahead of myself now, having just finished Ch.6 yesterday morning. I'll start on 7 as soon as I finish publishing this. This story has been fun to write and appears to be going longer than I originally planned. I don't think I'll be able to fit it all in 10 chapters. The transformation aspect of it hasn't even happened yet and I'm starting Ch.7. We'll see what happens though. Oh, the picture for this one refers to something that happens that's minor but fun.
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4.
A gentle rapping on the door woke me. I opened my eyes to a dark room, having pulled the curtains shut tight last night. I grunted, rolling away, pulling my pillow around my head like a helmet. If it was still dark that meant the sun hadn’t come up yet. It was summer. Teenagers weren’t supposed to get up before noon in the summer. They were especially not supposed to get up at---I let go of my "helmet" and turned toward my alarm clock and groaned more---5:20 am. I pulled the pillow tighter, hoping to drown out the tapping. It only got louder though. I wanted to scream, instead, I violently threw off my covers, jumped out of bed and stormed the door. Whoever it was...I was going to kill them…
Yanking open the door, Carrie was standing there.
I was about to chide her when I saw her face:
She’d been crying.
All thoughts of anger subsided immediately.
Damn it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my rage replaced by compassion.
“I saw Mom...she was here...she didn’t know me though...she...she..”
I quickly dropped to her level and wrapped her in a hug.
I held her tight as she openly cried on my shoulder.
This was new.
Ok so not new. Carrie had had a lot of bad dreams, especially after the accident. It was natural. I had a few myself. Her’s were more frequent though. They were in the past though. Whereas Dad didn’t want either one of us to see a professional, he could not deny the school shrink from talking to Carrie. Wells Elementary---Carrie’s school---offered students a well rounded and cultured education. That was their actual tagline. Dr. Pierce was a nice woman. She used to be the shrink there when I was a kid. Every student was mandated to meet with her at least three times a year. She went out of her way to meet with Carrie on a regular basis though, first for grief counseling then to help her deal with the nightmares.
I thought we were over them.
I held her until she stopped crying. When she finally did, she pulled away and looked at me strangely. At first, I didn’t realize what she was staring at until she reached forward.
She touched something on my chest.
I always slept in just my boxers.
It wasn’t unusual for me to be bare-chested.
What was unusual was what else I was wearing.
That damn necklace!
How in the hell…?
Carrie fingered it with a giggle. “I never actually thought you’d wear it”.
I thought up a quick lie.
“Of course I want to wear it, we have to match, right?”
What the ever living fuck was going on?
When I came home from Charlie’s house, I finally realized I’d been wearing it. It was strange though because I think I’d been wearing it all day. I didn’t really notice it though until after I was in my room, laying in bed. Then only after my mind drifted into boredom. It was the strangest thing though because I couldn’t remember putting it on. I obviously must have because I was wearing it but why. When I bought the pair of them for Carrie and me, I never had any intention of putting the damn thing on. In fact, I vividly remember sticking this thing as far back in my underwear drawer as I could. Had I put it on this morning without even knowing? And if I did, why?
Color me freaked.
“I like it there,” My sister continued to finger it. “It makes your eyes stand out."
I bopped her nose.
My sister and I had the same dullish, blue-green eyes.
“So” I finally said after a large moment of silence. “You want to tell me about it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about it. I just, I had the dream, woke up and went to Dad but he wasn’t there.”
Are you serious!
Damn him!
It was one thing to be absent most of the day but to be gone now too, it was ridiculous. Dad always kept a futon in his office. It was in case something bad happened and he couldn’t leave. I respected that. What I couldn’t respect though was how he was always gone. Call me selfish but most kids want their fathers around. Especially at night and early in the morning. This was taking it too far now. The worst part of it was not calling. Sure he called shortly after Uncle Frank dropped me off. He only did so to make sure I stayed in the house the rest of the night. Our conversation was brief. The one he had with Carrie was twenty minutes longer. She always knew how to keep Dad’s attention after all.
The thing was, I overheard him tell her he promised he’d be home last night.
What a joke!
Grunting but trying not to let her hear, I gently took her hand and led her down the hall. At the top of the stairs, I paused. I wanted to be one of those cool big brothers. You know scoop her up in my arms, carry her about but I just wasn’t strong enough. I used to be able too when she was smaller. But she and I were different now. Whereas she was getting bigger, I was not. I just didn’t have the strength to carry her anymore. It made me feel like less of a person. I could still give her a piggyback but I didn’t want to do that on stairs. So instead, I continued walking with her down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“What are we doing?” she asked, as I left her at the table.
“Getting something to eat.”
I knew there was a plate of cookies in there. Mrs. Noble was a nice old lady who lived down the street with her daughter. She was a widowed former teacher. She taught me in Fifth grade in fact. She liked to bake and often brought us cookies every couple of days. I think it was her way of showing that she cared and understood. After all, Mr. Noble only just recently passed too.
I brought the plate out and sat in front of her.
“Dad will be mad.”
I grunted. “He’s not here, is he?”
She smiled and started eating the cookies.
I fixed her a glass of milk to go with it before wandering out of the kitchen. I managed to grab the home phone before I walked out. I dialed his office while I wandered into the living room. It rang only three times:
“Greenfield Police Department,” said a kind voice on the other end.
“Hi Judy,” I said, trying to be polite.
There were only two dispatchers. I knew them both because well my Dad was their boss after all. Judy was the night one. She was a kind lady. Her daughter went to school with Carrie, I think they were a grade apart?
“Chase, sweetie, you’re up early.”
“Occupational hazard when your father is a workaholic."
I didn’t hide the vinegar in my voice.
Judy knew the animosity I carried for her boss.
She sighed. “It was a very busy day, hun. I’m sure he wanted to get home..he...”
I cut her off. “I’m sure it was. I’m not mad about that. I am however pissed off that he promised Carrie he’d be here and when she had a nightmare, he wasn’t here to comfort her, you know doing the more important job...”
I hated unloading on Judy like this but I was angry.
Sometimes I let it get the better of me.
There was a moment of silence before, “I’ll see if he’s available.”
“He better be.”
It didn’t take long.
“Chase,” said my exhausted Father after only a couple of minutes. “You know not to call me at...”
“At work” I snapped. “Well I wouldn’t have to if you know, you were home, where you said you’d be.”
Like I said I was pissed.
I also had no problem directing my anger where it belonged.
“I’m busy.”
“Big surprise."
“What’s this about?”
“She had another nightmare. She went to her father but you know, big surprise, the bastard wasn’t there.”
“Don’t use that tone...”
“Zip it. You gave up the right to tell me how to talk a while ago.”
Wow, where did that come from?
I’d never actually talked to him like that before.
I felt confident suddenly. Almost as if everything I wanted to say just seemed to flow out of my mouth. I didn’t stop there. I gave the man a full two barrels of it. I chastised him for being an absentee parent, for breaking promises, for making Carrie cry. He said nothing the whole time. There was nothing for him to say and I didn’t really give him a chance. I dominated the whole conversation and when I was done, I hung up without saying goodbye. My hand was shaking after I hung up.
That felt really good.
Cathartic even.
I felt a surge of energy flow through me. It was overwhelmingly warm and calming. I smiled. Then I walked back into the kitchen, absently fingering the necklace again.
What am I doing here?
It was strange really. After deciding that going back to bed was kind of stupid, I stayed up. I tried sending Carrie back to bed after her cookies because she practically fell asleep at the table. She refused to go though so we ended up snuggling together on the couch, watching cartoons. She fell asleep eventually. She woke a few hours later, I made us some french toast and we watched more cartoons for a while. The whole time though there was something nagging at me. I couldn’t figure out what it was until I saw a breaking news report. It was nothing more than a rehash of last night’s events at the warehouse. I tried to ignore it until I saw the same picture of my mystery girl.
That’s when I realized what was nagging me.
It was her.
There was something about her.
I stewed about it for about an hour or so before making up an excuse to go to the pool. I called around, found someone to watch Carrie for a little while then headed out. As soon as I got out the door, I had every intention of going to the pool. I was even on the right bus. Halfway through the ride though, the nagging returned. It was then that I realized what I really wanted to do. What I needed to do. At the next available stop, I jumped off. I ran a couple of blocks to an opposite bus route, taking the bus further into the city. Away from the school, toward Charlie’s. More importantly though, toward the warehouse.
Stupid.
I’d actually gotten off the bus about three minutes ago.
Now I was standing across the street just like before. It was strangely quiet for an active crime scene. There was only one police car now and though the area was taped off, there was actually no one patrolling it. I half expected it to be swarming with cops still. I’m not sure what I was even doing here, to be honest. Did I actually expect to find something that the police couldn’t? Was there some hidden clue waiting for me to discover? Was it terrorists? Gangsters? Hell, even aliens? Or maybe it was something else entirely. Something more personal.
Maybe it was her.
I’m not going to lie, there was something about her. I just couldn’t place my finger on it. She was mysterious and brooding and if the cops were right, dangerous. I should have said something. I’m not sure what it would have done but I might have been able to give them a better description of her. I almost called Dad up last night and told him about meeting her a few days before. Not that he would have believed me. He probably would have told me I was mistaken, that it was a big city and all that crap. I know what I saw though. I knew who I saw. It's not hard to forget someone like her after all. She was so tall and those eyes...no one else I’d ever seen had eyes like those.
No, I wasn’t mistaking it.
I knew it was her.
And she was in trouble.
Making up my mind, I stuck my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. I slowly made my way across the road, toward the cruiser. I half expected to be stopped as soon as I got there but I wasn’t. In fact, the car was empty. Weird. Weirder still was the steaming hot cup of coffee sitting in the holder. If there was still steam coming off it, it had to be fresh. Yet where was the cop that belonged to it? I tried the door but it was locked. Sighing, I almost left. I say almost because now this was the best opportunity. Wherever the cop was, he probably wasn’t far.
I smirked at my luck and slipped quickly under the tape.
I kept to the shadows just to be on the safe side though, slinking along the side of the nearest building.
There were several abandoned places in this part of town. This old warehouse district was one of the more popular scumbag destinations though. At one time, the city tried to bulldoze the whole place but apparently, a flock of seagulls started to nest here. A couple of environmental agencies got involved and declared the place a wildlife habitat. So instead the buildings stayed. Now everyone from addicts to vagrants called the place home too. It was one of the reasons Dad hated me coming to this part of town. Cops only came around here if absolutely necessary and most of the people here hated them.
Ditto for a cop’s kid.
Surprisingly, most people left me alone.
Not that many of them knew or even cared.
Trying not to think about that, I continued to move along a predestined path. I knew where I was going after all. It was hard not too. The building in question was directly ahead. At one time it looked like every other one in this place. Now, it was a blackened wreck. Whatever fire had happened last night, it had done its toll. Most of it had even collapsed in on itself. There was no way a gas leak had caused this. It looked like an explosion. Of course, if that was the case, we all would have heard it. Hell, Charlie lives across the street pretty much. The strange thing was though, it didn’t look like a fire either.
I’d been around fires before.
The remnants of them too.
We didn’t always live in the rich neighborhood. We used to live in a normal house, on a normal street. Dad didn’t become the Chief until a couple of years ago. The house we were living in was fairly modest. I loved it there. It was just the right size for our family. My parents thought it was too small though. It was also too close to the houses around it. That’s where I saw a fire, up close and personal. A house two houses down from us had a grease fire. It got out of control pretty quick. The firefighters barely managed to contain it. Luckily it didn’t spread and no one got hurt. What made it so memorable though was the intense heat, all the smoke, and the smell.
Stepping closer to this burnt out wreck now, I noticed that immediately.
There was no smell.
I knew there was smoke, I saw it last night.
Taking a step closer, I looked at the collapsed portion of the building. It didn’t look like it was burnt by a fire. There was no charred wood and when I touched it, it didn’t crumble away. It was still black though but more like it was scorched. I dropped my hood for a moment to rub the back of my head. What kind of fire burns but doesn’t burn? Sighing, I took a step back when I heard something. Thinking it was the cop, I quickly jumped around the rubble, hiding as best as I could. I crouched and waited. I was there for a few minutes but when no one showed up.
I did hear someone right?
Getting to my feet, I dusted off my jeans and decided to investigate further. At first, I thought maybe whatever I heard was coming from the burnt out building but I realized there was no way anyone could get in there. I did search around it a bit though but when that search proved fruitless I decided maybe I just heard things. In a situation like this, imaginations tended to run wild. Especially considering I was expecting the cop to come out and grab me at any moment. He didn’t but there was that fear.
I kept that fear in the back of my head as I continued to look around. It was clear that this was no ordinary fire. That much was obvious. No wonder the police were keeping this place so tightly guarded. Or at least they did last night. I stopped, looking around cautiously. Where was that cop anyway? And why was there only one of them? This place was swarming with them last night. All of this mess was just too strange to leave for one cop to look after by himself. I kept thinking about him as I continued to poke around a bit. After another ten minutes of it---trying and failing---to find anything, I finally decided to give up. I mean maybe I was grasping at straws anyway. Sure it was a strange fire but it was probably just a fire like every other one. More than likely the result of stupid kids or some tweaked out junkies.
Smirking at my own stupidity, I started to make my way back toward the tape barrier.
I even pulled my hood back up.
You know just in case the cop was back.
Approaching the barrier, I didn’t get very far before I heard something again. I stopped, this time I was sure I heard it. I turned, following the source. It was one of the buildings off to my right. For a second I thought I imagined it again then I smelt something. I think it was barbecue. There was the distinct smell of burning meat. Was someone cooking something? It wasn’t unheard of. This was a place frequented by many homeless after all. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that one of them might have a little grill or something.
Dropping low, I slowly started to approach the source of the sound and smell. When I got closer, I definitely smelt something. I heard something too, voices I think. I found a spot in the wall where some of the boards were rotting and coming apart. There was enough of a gap there that I was able to squeeze through. It was stupid but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was my mystery girl. As soon as I slipped through though, I was sadly mistaken. She wasn’t here. Instead, I found two large figures near the far end of the room. It was a pretty large room so I was kind of surprised I could hear them. It was pretty dark, dimly lit by what little light trickled through the grungy windows.
Staying low, almost on my stomach, I crawled closer.
Now I could really hear them:
“What’s the matter with you!” said one, he was wearing a trench coat.
“He saw us,” said the other, who was wearing a wool hat.
Both looked out of place.
It was August, they must have been sweating like crazy.
Their attire wasn’t the only strange thing though. They were huge. Bigger than any person I’d ever seen in fact.
“You’re paranoid.”
“Am not?” said Wool Cap. “He was looking right at us!”
Trench Coat grunted, stepped aside for a moment.
I finally saw what they were talking about. It was strange though because there was nothing there. At least at first, I thought there was nothing. Then I saw it or what was left of it. There was a strange black scorch mark on the wall. At first, I thought it was just more dirt and grim, the place was full of it. Then I realized the mark had a strange shape, a strangely human-like shape. That’s when I smelled it again. The barbecue. I crinkled my nose. Was that what I thought it was? And if so, how?
“Your itchy trigger finger is drawing too much attention,” said Trench Coat, giving Wool Cap a rough shove.
I moved an inch closer.
I could see them better now. Both men were pale. Trench Coat’s head was clean shaven, his skin was almost white. There was something odd about it thought too. It was covered in strange black marks. Almost like tattoos but I could swear they were moving. Like insects crawling all over his skin? I couldn’t see Wool Cap’s head because it was covered but he was stooped over a lot, like an old man. Not much different than Pops actually but Wool Cap definitely was not Pops. Like I said, he was huge. There was something else though too. He was just as wide as he was tall. The two of them were a strange pair indeed. Like a demented, twisted version of Charlie and I.
“Watch who you’re shoving!” snapped Wool Cap, pulling something from his large coat.
I thought it was a gun. It looked a bit like one but it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The metal was shiny and seemed to ripple, almost like the other’s tattoos. The barrel of it was short though and as far as I could tell, there was no handle. How was he holding that thing?
I looked from the “gun” to the scorch mark and back again.
Was that…
No…
Not possible.
“Point that somewhere else, the Stalker is still somewhere around here.”
Wool Cap laughed or I think it was a laugh, it sounded like a hiss.
It was a shame I couldn’t see their faces but their backs were to me.
“I vapped him last night.”
Trench Coat shoved him again. “You idiot, they always travel in twos!”
What were they talking about?
What’s a Stalker?
What did I just stumble in to?
“I’ll kill that one too. No Stalker gets the drop on me!”
Trench Coat snarled at him. “Idiot, we're supposed to keep a low profile. We have one job to do. Find the girl, get the Thing and get out of here. No incidents. Do you want to piss the boss off!”
“I...I...I...”
Girl?
Were they talking about my mystery girl?
And who was this Boss?
Shit, this was bad.
Real bad.
I needed to get out of here and fast.
I started to scurry away and would have gone unnoticed but my foot hit a can. It made a loud clattering sound as I kicked it away. The sound was like a gunshot in such a large place. I cursed. Trench Coat and Wool Cap snapped around. This time I saw their faces. Cold, blank features, almost like masks. But those eyes...they were red. Who had red eyes? I didn’t have time to ponder it though because a second later, Trench Coat was on me. He was fast, really fast. I tried to jump to my feet to run but he was already on me. I didn’t even get fully to my feet before he grabbed a hold of me and lifted me off the ground. He did it with one hand too, lifting me a good two feet into the air.
Like I said, he was huge.
I didn’t realize how big until he was holding me.
Holy crap, he was massive.
“Hue-man” he hissed, I wanted to gag because his breath was horrible.
And what did he mean by “human”?
He was human too, wasn’t he?
“It can see us,” said Wool Cap, a moment later as he appeared at Trench Coat’s side.
“Most definitely,” said Trench Coat, with a sneer.
“Do you smell that?” asked Wool Cap, sniffing around me.
Trench Coat leaned in and sniffed me.
It was the weirdest thing ever.
His eyes grew big.
“It has it!” he said, tightening his grip.
“Give us it, boy” snapped Wool Cap, reaching for me.
He never touched me though. One second his hand was there, the next it wasn’t. I thought I saw some movement, maybe a glint of metal. It was so fast though. A second after that, Wool Cap howled, grasping his severed stump. The cut was clean, it sliced through flesh and bone. What I saw though made no sense. The flesh was purplish in color and the blood, it was green. People didn’t look like that.
Wool Cap screamed:
“STALKER!”
There was another flash. This time from him. He got over the shock of losing his hand, dropped to the ground and rolled back up, firing blindly. It was an amazing thing to see, especially considering how large he was. When he rolled, his cap came off and I saw something else amazing too. It was the reason he was wearing the cap because he had tiny horns all over the top of his head.
What the hell was this?
“Kill it” snapped Trench Coat. “I’ll deal with the boy!”
Damn.
Wool Cap continued to fire blinding behind us, his weird gun shooting strange beams of orange light. Every time one of those shots hit something, the area was scorched black. Like the char marks on the other building. so it wasn't a fire after all.
My attention was quickly drawn away to Trench Coat though as he tore open both my hoodie and my shirt. His nails were long and sharp, like claws. He drew his red eyes to my bare chest and smirked.
“There you are...” he snapped, reaching...
Wool Cap screamed.
Trench Coat was caught by surprise. He let me go, I dropped to the ground with a thud. After the scream, what happened next will be etched into my brain forever. Someone appeared out of thin air, swinging a strange looking spear. It was her, my Mystery Girl. She slipped in close to Wool Cap, sliced off his other arm then cleaved his head off. All in two fast and fluid motions. Wool Cap slumped to the ground, more green blood poured from his severed stumps. Trench Coat snarled, completely ignoring me. Two wicked blades came out of his sleeves and he charged the girl. He swung like a maniac, fast and furious. She was just as fast. She parred his swings with the agile grace of a ballerina, spinning her weapon about like it was apart of her.
None of his slashes got anywhere near her.
As all of this was going on though, something else caught my eye.
There was a quick shimmer to my left.
A person shaped shimmer.
A third person.
They came at me fast, faster than the others. For a split second, I saw them. They were in a skin-tight black suit, wielding a sword. Like a Ninja. They came at me quick. I panicked, threw up my arms as the blade of the sword came toward my neck.
There was a flash of bright, blinding light.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Five by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Ok, so I'm ahead of schedule on this story for now. I have Ch.6 fully written and almost done with 7. This is shaping into a fun tale for me to write. I will say there's a tad bit more action at the end of this one. The two chapters that follow are all talking ones. There will be a lot of explanation in the next two chapters too. This is also the chapter where we finally learn Mystery Girl's name, thus I used a pic of her for the Chapter photo :D.
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5.
The blaring of my alarm woke me.
The constant drone louder than I would have liked. Rolling over, I took a swing at it, instead of shutting it off though, I managed to knock it on the floor. Cursing, I slowly pushed myself to waking before bending over the side of the bed to retrieve the offending thing. I was halfway to reaching it when I stopped and looked around. It took me a few seconds to make the connection but as soon as I did I was as confused as hell. Was I in my room? How did I get here? When did I get here?
What the hell just happened?
I pinched myself then yelped.
So I wasn’t dreaming.
Did that mean I’d been dreaming before? I groaned. Sitting up fully, I looked around to make sure this was, in fact, my room. There was no doubt that it was. I had the same posters on the walls, the same desk in the corner, my dresser, my end table, even my bookshelf. Everything was the there and where it should be. Finally grabbing the alarm---which had finally stopped---I looked at the LED display: 6:02 AM. That was enough to warrant another groan. I didn’t get up this early unless it was a school day. I set it back on the end table then grabbed my phone. I checked the date. Nope, it was still July. Hey, I had to be sure. There were, after all, a lot of strange things going on. This also wouldn’t have been the first time I dreamt about summer when it was really Fall.
I sighed in relief all the same.
I was not mentally prepared for school.
Especially not after that dream.
I mean it was a dream, right?
I tried to recall everything that happened yesterday. I remember waking up like usual, making sure there was someone to watch Carrie before heading out on my own. My plans diverted once I got out and about though, leading me to the warehouse district instead of the school natatorium. That’s where things got weird. It's also where I knew everything had to be a dream. There was no way those guys, that girl, and that light…
It just wasn’t possible.
Laughing at it, I managed to slowly make my way down the hall to the bathroom.
I always tried to shower quickly in the morning. Most days there was no one home in the morning besides me and Carrie, so taking care of her was my top priority. A long shower was a luxury I couldn’t afford. This morning was no different. I rushed into the bathroom, took a quick pee, brushed my teeth then hopped in for a quick one. I closed my eyes, letting the water soothe my body after a restless sleep. I was halfway through it when something felt off. Not the water itself but something with me. As the water caressed my body, I felt it. Sure I always felt the water but this time it was different. I couldn’t really describe it. It was almost as if for the first time I felt at peace. It was strange and yet absolutely invigorating. I didn’t want it to stop.
Sadly I knew it had too.
After another ten minutes of it, I shut off the shower. Sighing, I quickly stepped into a towel, wrapping it absently around my waist. I started over to the sink, wiping away the fog on the glass. I got my shaving kit ready but looking in the mirror, I could see it wasn’t needed. I didn’t grow much facial hair, just some stubble every couple of days. I liked to keep myself as clean shaven as possible though. The less hair on my body, the less friction in the water. It was the main reason I stopped letting my hair grow so long. Not only did it keep the teasing at a minimum but it was easier to handle. Looking into the mirror now though, it was clear that I needed another visit to the barber.
How long had it been?
I ran my hands through the mop. Did it feel thicker? Was it longer too? It was hard to keep track of these things. Over the summer I always let it get a little shaggy. I generally cut it shorter right before school started. Groaning, I stepped away from the sink, the more I looked at it, the more I was reminded of Mom. It broke her heart when I started to cut it. The combination of teasing and wanting to be a better swimmer ruled out in the end. She wouldn’t let me shave it all off though. So I had to settle for a more manageable cut. It still bothered her though.
Grunting in the mirror wasn’t going to get me anywhere this morning though.
I finally left the bathroom, meandering my way back to my room.
There were a total of three bathrooms in this house. One was downstairs for the guests and my father had one attached to his room. Though he barely used it. Much like his room. We’d only been living here a couple of years. The house didn’t even feel lived in. There were still unpacked boxes in the back of the garage and the attic. Long forgotten memories of a time when my father didn’t throw himself into things so much. Also, memories of a childhood long gone. A childhood with her. I think it was the memories that kept Dad away most of the time. I knew it was the reason he chose to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. The master suite had barely been stepped in since Mom died.
If there’s one thing I understood, it was that.
Back in my room, I dressed quickly. I decided too. I was going to try swimming today. With school not in session over the summer, the school board decided to open the pool for the community. Though it was mostly used by high schoolers. It was weird. Instead of spending time at the mall, those of us not on actual vacations spent most of our time in school. Ok so technically it was the pool but still, it was strange. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit as I packed my gym bag.
I started out of the room when the mirror on the back of the door stopped me.
This had been Becca’s room once. At least briefly. The plan was that we each got our own room. By then though, she was in college. She told my parents she didn’t want it, that she was barely going to be home. Dad insisted. Eventually, though, she got a little apartment off campus. It being the biggest room---save the master---it was agreed I could move in. The problem was that it was already set up for her. I’m not saying it was a girl’s room, its just that it had some girlier things, like the mirrors. There had been three. The only one I didn’t move to the attic with the rest of her furniture was the one on the back of the door. I usually hung my coats back there so I rarely saw it. It being summer, all my coats were in the closet at the moment. It was a good thing the mirror was there today.
I cursed.
The necklace was back.
I cursed my sister.
This little prank of hers was going too far.
It was one thing to slip it around my neck once but again, I was getting tired of it. When I walked around wearing it the other day, I was convinced it had to be her. I scolded her for it but she feigned innocence. Today though, I was fed up. I was surprised too. I managed to hide it pretty well or so I thought. I shoved it way back in my drawer last night...no wait, the night before right? I was confused. It was weird. Once again, I vividly remember getting up, going about my day. Up until…
The dream.
It was a dream, right?
What the hell am I saying, of course, it was a dream.
Though if it was, what happened instead?
Trying not to think about it, I quickly pulled open my door. I rushed out of my room, bound and determined to forget it ever happened. I got to the top of the stairs when I smelled bacon. Who was cooking breakfast? Cursing, I rushed down them, mad as hell at a certain ten-year-old. I stormed into the kitchen, ready to raise hell. I stopped in the entryway, surprised to see…
“Grace!”
Grace was a good fifteen years younger than my father. My grandparents had her very late in life. Its one of those rare things that happen from time to time. More so now than ever before. Being fifteen at the time, my father and Grace never really connected. By the time she was old enough, he was off to college. It wasn’t all that dissimilar to the relationship between Carrie and Becca. The difference was, Dad never really cared. I think he treated his sister more like a distant cousin than an actual sibling. The way she tells it, they didn’t really start to bond until she was in college herself. When she decided to be a Realtor, she actually helped my parents land this house.
“Hi sweetie,” she said, turning from the stove.
She was holding a spatula.
I looked past her to the sizzling bacon.
Wow.
Real food.
Usually, I just made Carrie and myself something frozen. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time anyone used that stove.
“I’ve got some eggs too,” she said, plating some of the bacon while pointing to another tray on the counter.
I nodded, helping myself.
Grace went back to cooking, humming.
No one did that around here either.
She and my father couldn’t be more polar opposites. Though both fairly tall, Grace took more after my grandmother. Lighter hair, bright blue eyes and a smattering of freckles. She was always happy and full of life too, smiling and singing. Dad was stoic, like his own father. I never met either sadly. Both of them were gone before I was born. Cancer took grandma and grandpa drank himself to death. Grief does horrible things to people. I’m just glad Dad never went down that road himself. As it was, he abhorred drinking of any kind because of it.
I smiled as I sat down.
“It's nice to see you, Aunt Grace...” I said and meant it.
I was curious though.
“But,” she said with that smile of hers. “You forgot, ‘What the hell are you doing here’, is that about it?”
She laughed.
She had a great one.
I smirked. “So what’s his excuse this time?”
Grace dropped the smile. “Not an excuse, an all hands on deck type of thing. An officer is missing.”
Shit.
I opened my mouth to say something but quickly closed it.
Wait, wasn’t there an empty car at the warehouse…
No, that was a dream.
“At the warehouse?” I asked absently as I forked my eggs.
She gave me a weird look. “How did you know?”
I sighed. “I had this weird dream...”
I told her.
I always told Grace everything. I didn’t have a choice. Like my father, she always could smell out the truth. Unlike Dad though, she was good at getting it out of us. Dad always knew when we were lying of course but he never pressed it. Like when we did something wrong. He let us stew with the guilt of it until we confessed to it. He glared at us the whole time though and wouldn’t stop until we confessed. It was the cop in him. I always wondered if it worked on bad guys the same way?
When I finished, she gave me a look.
Then she giggled. “It wasn’t a dream honey.”
Wait, what?
She laughed this time, responding to the freaked out look I was probably giving her. “I mean sure some of it clearly was. I doubt you ran into some guys and a strange girl with a spear cut off their heads”.
She laughed even more.
I felt like pouting.
When I was growing up, Grace was the cool aunt. She was young and hip and I loved her. She liked to tease though. She meant well by it but it used to rub me the wrong way sometimes.
I felt like a kid again.
“Your friend brought you home yesterday,” she said, her laughing finally stopped. “Said the two of you were poking around the warehouse and that a beam fell and hit you in the head.”
Grace was glaring now.
Like, Dad.
“You’re lucky to be alive” she scolded. “I could have killed you. The only thing that stayed my hand was how out of it you were. You were barely conscious. I wanted to call 911 but you insisted you were fine.”
She was giving me a look.
It was strange because I couldn’t remember any of that.
The only thing I could remember was the dream.
I must have dreamt up the rest of it to account for what I clearly couldn’t remember.
I smiled though.
“Hey at least Charlie stepped up,” I said happily.
Good for him.
Grace smiled. “It wasn’t Charlie, sweetie. It was some girl. Very cute. Kinda strange though and so tall...”
Tall.
Oh god.
Her.
It made no sense.
The truth is in the lie I suppose.
My mind couldn’t remember parts of yesterday, so my subconscious filled in the blanks with a dream. Why that particular one though? Why the crazy, weird guys and my Mystery girl with that spear thing? I groaned as I looked out the window, staring at the city as it slowly zoomed by. Breakfast was little over an hour ago and yet I couldn’t get what Aunt Grace said out of my head. So I went to the warehouse yesterday and what, got bonked on the head? It made no sense. I mean, why was I there with her? Where did she come from? I definitely didn’t show up with her that’s for sure. I would have remembered that part. Why there? Why the strange guys too? What did any of it have to do with the missing police officer? I wanted to scream. That would have looked pretty weird though, what with all the people sitting around me. The more I thought about it though, the more I wanted to blame Charlie for it.
He had to put that stupid alien thought in my head.
That combined with my addled brain, it was the only thing that made sense.
What did they say? That dreams were your brain processing the day’s events? Well, clearly my accident at the warehouse molded with his crazy alien theory in a weirdly messed up dream sequence where my Mystery Girl suddenly becomes Xena the Warrior Teenager. I couldn’t help but laugh at it all. It was all so strangely stupid and liberating. I mean, at least I wasn’t going crazy. For a split second, I actually thought maybe the dream had been real all along. Thankfully, Aunt Grace set me straight.
After she told me about “my friend”, I laughed. I think she thought I was nuts until I told her how crazy I’d been this morning. Of course, she wanted to call 911 again. I think she thought the head bump was more severe than it really was. I talked her out of it though. The rest of it was forgotten by the arrival of Carrie. An over ecstatic girl was enough to distract anyone. She was practically bouncing with joy at the sight of my aunt. Carrie dominated the rest of the morning with her animated talking. She was strangely always hyper in the morning, it was creepy. It was welcomed today too. It got Grace to forget about smothering me with concern.
It was also a perfect getaway for me.
While Carrie had her distracted, I quickly excused myself. I told my aunt my plans and rushed out the door before she could say anything. I know it was cowardly and stupid but I just didn’t want her to worry. I got away with it too. She texted me a few minutes later when I got to the bus stop. She scolded me for leaving without discussing things further but she told me to have fun too. Grace only ever worried if it was really serious. After Mom died, she was just as much of a wreck as the rest of us. Grace often said that she just didn’t have the time or the energy to have her own family. Ours was the surrogate one she always wanted. Mom was like the big sister she always wanted too.
Grace had been devastated.
We all were.
It hollowed her out though. She tried to hide it but I think its one of the reasons she didn’t come around as much as she used too. Sure, she helped out from time to time but she used to be over a lot more. She and Mom used to spend time with each other every day, going to lunch, shopping on the weekends. Like sisters. Grace put on a good front with us but it was a mask. She was hurting. I knew that pain all too well. We were healing though. It took nearly two months for any of us to laugh again. It still wasn’t great but it was getting better a little bit each day.
“That’s a nice one,” said a voice next to me.
I turned and looked at the woman sitting next to me, smiling. She was middle-aged, wearing a business suit. She looked professional, hair pulled back, sharp.
“Excuse me?” I asked, lost in my thoughts.
“That necklace you’re wearing,” she said, pointing at my hand. “You don’t see ones with pure stones like that”.
I paused, looking down.
What the...again…
I was fondling the necklace, rubbing the stone absently between my fingers.
This was like…
What the second time...maybe…
What was wrong with me.
I smiled. “Its soothing” I lied.
She smiled. “Aquamarine is an important stone” She reached around her neck, pulling out a necklace of her own. “I wear one too.”
There was an aquamarine stone there but much smaller than my own.
“It's for clarity you know. I was never into that whole crystal crap before until my sister bought me this one. I used to be horrible at public speaking. After I starting wearing this, it really helped. It's a stone of truth...”
I smiled. “I was born in March, it's my birthstone, my little sister talked me into it...”
We shared a small laugh.
She started talking about holistic healing and all that stuff. It wasn’t really my thing. I tried not to be rude though, half listening. She was really into it. She went on and on about chakras and cleansing the soul. I’m sure it was all very interesting but I was distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday. It still bothered me that I couldn’t remember what really happened. Maybe Aunt Grace was right and I did need to see a doctor. Head injuries were bad and the fact that I couldn’t remember the rest of my day, that was really bad.
I decided there and quickly interrupted her.
“Do you know where the nearest clinic is?”
“What?”
“I wanted to get a quick look over” I lied. “Bonked my head yesterday. Want to make sure I’m ok.”
Maybe get a Cat scan or something?
She nodded. “I think there’s one on South Street.”
South Street.
That was only a couple of blocks from here, right? I looked out the window. I knew this route well enough to know I was almost at the school now. South Street was on the way. In fact, it was almost coming up.
“Thanks,” I said, jumping to my feet, barely remembering to grab my bag.
I didn’t even bother to say goodbye as I rushed down the aisle toward the front of the bus.
“Can I get off here, please?”
The driver was not amused.
“This isn’t a stop!”
“It's important!"
He grunted. Slowly he brought the bus to a stop. He opened the door and I jumped out without even thanking him. Just as well because he was moving even before the door was shut. I didn’t waste my breath on it though. I looked around, checking where I was. I was almost at the school anyway. I was only slightly familiar with this area though. Looking around, I tried to find a familiar street sign.
Greenfield was split up into two major sections, upper town and lower. Lower Town was a much older part of the city, centered around the canal that ran straight through it. The houses and buildings there were older, built toward the end of the 19th century and early 20th century. That part of the city had been built, dismantled and rebuilt so many times it was hard to tell what was new from the old. Its where the warehouse district was for instance. Its also where Charlie lived. Upper Town was much different. Everything was new there. It had all been fields and farmland once. I’m not sure when the city expanded but most of the buildings in the Upper part of the city couldn’t have been more than thirty years old. The high school was here. I lived there.
Upper and Lower Town were only ten minutes away from each other by car. About thirty by bus because of the constant stops. If one were to walk from one end of the city to the other though, it would probably take a couple of hours. That didn’t count the remaining farmland either. It also didn’t count walking from Lower Town to my newer housing development. Driving back and forth added another ten minutes or so to the journey.
Thinking about all of that right now was pretty useless though.
Right now, I needed…
Ah, there it was.
South Street.
I smiled.
I quickly rushed across the street, huffed it two blocks before finding what I was looking for.
The Emergency Clinic.
The hospital was on the other side of town. There was a professional district with doctor’s offices and things but you needed an appointment for that. Whereas the clinic was smack dab in the middle of what was affectionately called “Professional Parkway”, one could simply walk in. It was just as well. I didn’t want my father to know I was coming here. I didn’t want anyone to know. People worried about the littlest things and it was frankly no one’s business but my own. I needed to get checked out though. Grace was right.
I started into the building like I belonged there.
I walked up to the front desk, smiling at the wo…
Man.
That was weird, you don’t see too many male receptionists.
Oh well.
“Hi,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I had a bit of an accident yesterday. I think I need to be checked out.”
He nodded.
“Of course,” he said, his voice strangely cold.
He was a tall man. Really tall. He was strangely pale too. I smiled as he continued to stare at me. I was waiting. He was supposed to give me some paperwork or something, wasn’t he? I looked around the counter, there was a clipboard right next to him. He continued to stare at me though. It was uncomfortable. I looked away, hoping that someone else thought it was uncomfortable too. Then I realized, there was no one else. I turned and looked out the large glass front of the building. There were cars out there in the parking lot, at least ten. Where were the rest of the people?
I turned back to the man.
"Pretty quiet, huh?"
I was trying to make small talk because it was kind of creepy. Where was everyone?
He was still staring.
“You smell nice,” he said, sniffing. "Like the water."
“Umm….thanks...” I said, creeped out.
The water? Who even talks like that?
I backed away from the counter. I started to make my way toward the waiting area but stopped. There was an abandoned purse sitting by one of the chairs. On the coffee table nearby there was also a cup. I could still see steam coming off it. There was something wrong here.
Something very wrong.
“I think I better...ummm….just...”
I took a step back further.
That’s when he reacted. He was fast. Too fast. His arm shot out toward me, grabbing my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong. I tried to pull free but I couldn’t. I started to struggle but his grip was like iron.
“Let me go, you fucking freak!”
He smiled, his mouth spreading a lot larger than humanly possible.
What the hell?
How was he…
What was he…
The dream....no, it couldn't...
“He was right,” he said, his tongue slithering out of his wide mouth, flicking about his chin. “He said you'd come here. We just had to wait..."
What was going on?
“Let me go!”
I tried to pull away from him but he was inhumanly strong. Like before.
Like the dream.
“Not a chance, you know too much, hue-man.”
The way he said it though.
Two words instead of one.
“Hue-Man”.
Like before.
From the warehouse.
From my dream.
Oh, my God.
I panicked.
Without even thinking, I swung my bag around. The heavy duffle whacked him hard up the side of his head. It was enough to stagger him, his grip loosened. He didn’t let go but it allowed me to grab something else. There was a large glass container of gumballs on the counter next to the phone. While the bag staggered him, I snatched it up quickly. I didn’t even think. I swung it at his head too, smashing it against the side of his face as hard as I could. He didn’t even flinch though. There were glass shards and blood all over his face but there was something wrong.
Something wrong with his face.
It was cut in several places but it was...there was something underneath.
Almost as if this face was a mask?
A mask covering something gray and slimy.
A strange greenish puss started to ooze out of his facial wounds.
He hissed.
“YOU RUINED IT” he shouted.
Finally, he let me go but not gently. He pushed/threw me away from him. The force of it sent me flying backward into the waiting area. I crashed into the little coffee table, it collapsed under my weight. I was dazed and it hurt. I grunted, trying to push myself back up. I was shocked too. More so by what I managed to see just behind the counter. There was a pool of blood there. Oh god. I think I knew what happened to the previous receptionist. I couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the patrons had met a similar fate?
What the hell was going on here?
I snapped back around to “Slime Head”. He wasn’t paying attention to me though. He was trying desperately to fix his face. Half of it was coming off now though. I could see what was underneath. His face was grey and besides the slime, there was this strange scaly texture. It was almost reptilian with a large wide mouth too. It was his eyes that drew me though. I could only see the one, the other looked human but this one was like a snake’s.
Shit.
I made a mad dash for the door.
I almost made it too but he was there. He leapt over the counter and landed in front of me in one quick pounce. He had clearly given up on his face because the destroyed part was just hanging there now. He blocked the whole door, it was clear I was going nowhere.
“What do you want with me!”
“Not you” he hissed. “It!"
It? What It?
“Give us It and you can live”.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Archon lie” He hissed. “Can smell it. Where is It.”
He started pawing at my hoodie, trying to rip it open. I remembered something. Something from my dream. The other one---the one in the trench coat---he tried to do the same thing. He got it open though, started too...I couldn’t remember…
“Give It to me, Archon!”
That word again.
Archon?
What the hell was an Archon?
“I don’t...”
Something outside caught his attention, he turned for a moment. I took a chance, kicked him as hard as I could. The kick did nothing to him but it sent me backward. I landed hard on my back. Kicking him was like kicking a wall. My leg throbbed and the force of it...ouch. It got me further away though. There was now a good couple of feet between us. I started scrambling back on my butt, trying to get further away. Toward the door, toward safety.
He turned, hissed loudly. He let out an ear-shattering scream before jumping toward me, his arms outstretched. He would have made it too. What happened next was so fast that neither one of us saw it coming. One minute he was in the air, flying toward me and the next he wasn’t. There was a loud shattering of glass and something hit him out of the air. I blinked a few times and looked around. My head quickly snapped around to where the Slime Head ended up though. It was a grisly sight.
He was pinned to the wall, mangled beyond all human recognition.
His opponent.
A car door.
I snapped around, wondering where it came from.
A moment later, I got my answer.
Walking across the parking lot---wielding that spear---was the girl.
My Mystery Girl!
She threw it, like a frisbee.
How was that even possible?
When she finally reached the building, she shattered the rest of the glass the door went through. She stepped through, looking around the room. She never once looked at me though. She walked forward with a purpose. She went up to the mangled scene on the wall. She grunted. Then reached forward, grabbed the door and ripped it away like it was nothing. It clattered to the floor where she dropped it, covered in that green ooze and other disgusting things. I looked from it to the rest of Slime Head, smeared in a mess all over the wall and some of the floor too.
I felt sick to my stomach.
For a moment I couldn’t find my voice to talk but when I did, I only wanted to know one thing:
“What the hell is it?”
She smirked, still not looking at me. “It was weak. Now it's nothing.”
She finally turned to me and when she did, those gold eyes of hers were shining.
“You,” she said, taking a step toward me. “You and I need to talk.”
I nodded but still found myself asking, “Who the hell are you? What the hell is going on?”
“My name is Dey’ya Vynn, Emissary of Zeeka, Servant of Her Holiness Tryn and you are in great danger, Chase Matthews.”
I gulped.
Definitely not a dream.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Six by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: Ok here's Ch.6, right on schedule again. I'm proud of myself :D. This is a very talky chapter. Everyone kept asking me what's going on and this is the chapter with all the answers. Well at least a good portion of them. This chapter and the next one will be very light on much of anything, except talking. I'm trying to break the story up that way. I knew going in there was going to be a lot of action so these quiet moments are always fun to write too. The picture I used this time is not really representative of the chapter but you'll understand when you get there.
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6.
What the hell?
I stood there, staring at this strange girl, holding this wicked looking spear. I would have called her a crazy nut job except I was kinda afraid to insult her. After all, she just threw a car door across a parking lot and into a building. You don’t call someone like that crazy. There was no questioning that. There, however, several other questions that I had. So many. First and foremost, clearly what I saw yesterday had actually happened. She did fight off two weird guys in the warehouse, kill one of them with that spear and...and...I couldn’t remember anymore. I only just now remembered that. It was strange really. As soon as I saw her with that spear, it just came to me.
Did she do something to me?
Make me forget?
I stared at her. She was poking at the body smeared on the wall. Or rather what was left of it. The car door had done a number on him. When it caught him in midair, it split him in half as he hit the wall. I was too grossed out by it all to really look before but now I could see it. What was left of it? Most of him now seemed to be dissolving. It was the only word I could think of. He was literally oozing away off the walls into a grayish puddle on the floor. Even that was starting to melt away too.
“What’s happening to him?”
“It,” she said, poking some of the sludge with the tip of her spear. “They are genderless Constructs. We call them Mutates. A bastardized amalgam of several different species spliced together.”
Mutates?
I nodded like any of it made any sense.
“But it's not human, right?”
She sighed. “It is not of this world.”
Well, that answered one of many questions.
I groaned. Charlie had been right. Oh god had he been right. This was crazy. Aliens were bullshit, made up by conspiracy theorists and Hollywood blockbusters. The things of superstitious nut jobs, paranoid loonies, and talented writers. Nothing more. Yet, here I was staring at one. Or what was left of one. Then I looked at her. Standing there with her large spear, glaring down at the gray muck. Maybe I was staring at two?
“Are you?” I asked.
She turned to me. “Am I what?”
I needed to be tactful about it.
“Are you human?”
She looked at me, her golden eyes no longer shined but they were just as foreboding. “Yes”.
I sighed.
“And no,” she said after a moment. “It's complicated.”
I wanted to uncomplicate this as much as I could. “Are you from Earth?”
“No,” she said, looking around.
Clearly, something was spooking her. Since coming into the building, she barely stood still for a minute. It was almost as if…
My other questions were abandoned when a more pressing matter came to mind. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“No doubt,” she said, running a hand through that short hair of hers.
I cursed. “You’ve killed what...three…of them?”
“Ten actually. It doesn’t matter though. More will come. Mutates are like insects. Their Master can summon as many as they want.”
Master?
So that meant there was someone behind this.
A boss.
An Alien Boss.
This was all so crazy.
Shit.
I slowly started to reach for the necklace but stopped myself. Not now. I could be a nervous twitch later, right now I needed my hands where I knew I could control them. Besides, I didn’t want to show weakness around her. I had a feeling that someone like her might frown upon something like that. I mean she threw a fricken car door.
Which reminded me.
“How did you do that?” I asked, pointing to the mangled door on the ground.
“My people are strong.”
Understatement of the century.
“How strong...”
She interrupted me. “Look, you can ask all the questions you want later, right now, we need to go!”
I nodded.
She took charge, moving toward the door. I started to follow but remembered something. It didn’t dawn on me until I looked out at the parking lot. At all those cars. There were still people here. I cursed. I quickly moved back into the waiting room. I rushed the counter and looked behind it. Besides the blood, there was nothing. Cursing, I quickly rushed down the hall. She was right on my heels.
“What are you doing?”
“There are people here!”
“No there isn’t.”
“Yes, there is.”
“There was,” she said, quickly stepping in front of me, halting my progress. “Mutates leave nothing behind. It's in their programming. Its why they were so hell-bent on you. No Trace. Its how they operate. Anyone who was here, they are long gone now.”
I pushed past her.
These were people. How could she be so cold?
I went from room to room, looking. Each of them empty. That didn’t stop me though. I checked the whole place, including closets, cabinets, and drawers.
There was no one though.
Where did they all go?
Dey’ya seemed to read my thoughts because she grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”
This time I did get sick.
I rushed to the nearest bathroom. I just made the stall before puking up my breakfast. Dey’ya stood by impatiently waiting. I puked for a couple of minutes before finally stopping. I almost threw up again from the taste in my mouth. I hated puking. It was the worse ever. Name anyone who liked to puke and I’d sign them up for a psych eval on the spot.
“Are you better now?”
I wiped my mouth. “How can you be so calm about this?”
“Practice.”
I slowly pushed myself up from the porcelain throne. A second or so later, I was at the sink. I bent over the running water, turning my head to the side to rinse out my mouth. I gargled and spit at least twenty times. Then washed my hands just as much. The whole time, she stared at me. She probably thought I was some kind of freak. Let her. I wasn’t the one running around with a giant spear, slicing and dicing things. Thinking about it though, made me think about other things.
“How did you know I was here, anyway?”
“I’ve been following you.”
“What!”
She smirked. “When you stumbled into that yesterday, I was surprised. I’d been scouting that place for a day or so. They killed my partner. I wanted to take them out before they caught someone else off guard.”
Her partner?
Wait, didn’t one of them say something about a “Stalker”?
“What’s a Stalker?”
Her eyes opened in surprise. “Where did you hear that?”
I shrugged. “Those things were talking about it yesterday.”
Her eyes widen even further. “You understood them?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“And the one here, you could understand him too?”
I nodded again. “Yeah, he was speaking English."
She gave me a look.
“We have to go. Now!”
She grabbed my arm, pulling me from the bathroom. After seeing her throw that door, I wasn’t about to stop her. On my way through the waiting room, I managed to pull out my cell phone. I quickly dialed 911. I made it quick. Someone needed to know what happened here. I didn’t leave my name and hung up before Lucy---the Day Dispatcher---could ask me for any more details. I was actually kind of surprised she didn’t recognize my voice. As it was, I barely had time to shut off my phone before Dey’ya took it from me.
“This is dangerous,” she said, crushing it in her hand.
“What the fuck!” I snapped, watching as the crumbled remains of my phone dropped on the ground.
“You people have ingrained technology into your lives now. It's too integral. The Mutates figured it out quickly. They no doubt used it to track you down.”
“They’re that smart?”
“No, but they’re persistent.”
She left it at that, dragging me through the hole she made.
She finally let me go in the parking lot. I rubbed my wrist. Damn, she was strong.
She started toward the road, a girl on a mission. I watched for a second before rushing to catch up. I gently grabbed her wrist. “You can’t go walking around carrying that, you’ll get arrested.”
Where had she been hiding the spear when I saw her before?
She nodded and second later, it vanished. Ok, so it didn’t vanish. She flicked her wrist and it seemed to collapse. Folding smaller and smaller until it became a bracelet on her left wrist.
How was that even possible.
She saw me staring. “The Kaagan is an extension of our bodies.”
I nodded as if that explained everything.
“You have so many answers for me!”
“First, we need to find someplace to hide then you can ask your questions."
Fair enough.
I looked around, noticing a billboard near the road.
I smirked.
I had just the place.
It's every teenage boy’s dream to bring a gorgeous girl to a motel. In any other circumstance, I might be thrilled at the prospect. This, however, was not one of those. I smiled as the woman at the counter handed us our room key. She even winked. I found myself flushing. I thanked her and pulled Dey’ya out of the office to stop her from glaring. When I saw the sign on the road, I thought for sure it was a bad idea the moment I thought of it. Weren’t motels the first place people look? Then again, that was the movies and we were being chased by alien things from another planet.
Logic went out the window a long time ago.
“Why did she do that with her eye?”
“Do what?”
Dey’ya tried to mimic the woman’s wink but couldn’t.
I blushed. “She thought...she thought...”
I couldn’t say it.
Dey’ya caught on though. “Do you wish to mate with me?”
I nearly choked.
“What...I….”
I think I turned every color red imaginable.
It sure felt like I did.
She stared at me for a few moments before smiling.
“I’m sorry but The Goddess does not permit me to sleep with lower life forms."
Ouch.
Instead of turning more red, I think I lost all pigment at that moment.
She left it at that.
“Now, where is our room?”
I held up the key absently. She took it without question. I was dumbstruck for a moment. I don’t think I've ever met someone so direct before. Sure I was thinking about her sexually, it was hard not too but I would have never been so blunt about it. She was this mystery to me though. One I couldn’t stop thinking about these past few days and here she was, in the flesh. Then she turned me down cold and hard. I didn't even get a chance to try.
Depressing.
It took me a moment or two to recover.
When I finally did, Dey’ya was already at “our” room.
She was standing in the doorway when I got there. She was staring at what I could only guess was a dismal place. I looked beyond her. It wasn’t much to look at. There was a bed, a TV, a dresser. A small armchair sat near the window and there was an ice bucket near the bathroom door. It was pretty much what I was expecting from a roadside place like this.
“People sleep here?” she asked, stepping into the room.
“I know its not much...”
“It's too much” she interrupted. “To have such luxury...this is not right...”
Luxury?
What kind of place did she come from?
“You don’t have rooms like this back home?”
She shook her head. “Zeeka is a lush place. You would call it a jungle I believe. Places like this, I didn’t see anything like this until I reached the capital of Xernos as a girl.”
Zeeka? Xernos?
I had no idea what she was talking about.
I let her look around a bit first. Then walked into the room myself, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I suppose you can have the bed, I’ll take the chair. There’s a bathroom back there, you can shower first if you want.”
I was trying to be accommodating after all.
I still had hundreds of questions for her. I wanted her to feel like she was ok to tell me anything. First and foremost, I needed her to think that I was staying. It took us nearly two hours to walk from the clinic to this place. It would have been faster but we hid from the cops on the way then she kept stopping to make sure we were safe. While we were doing so, I started to think about my situation. I was only in it because I saw something I shouldn’t have. It was pretty clear what was going on. They killed her partner first---that’s what caused the “fire”---then they killed the cop. I’m guessing his death was unforeseen. Much like what happened to those people at the clinic and what would have happened to me.
I guess I was lucky she showed up when she did.
This was the end of it though.
I wanted to go home.
I needed to go home.
But first, though, I needed her to tell me what the hell I stumbled into.
She finally stopped looking around. “I’ve been on this small planet of yours for only a handful of days and already I feel like I’ve seen more than I thought I would.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed, finally settling into the chair. “I told you I would give you answers and I’ll try my best” She looked about. “You call this planet Earth, correct?”
I nodded. “Does it have a different name?”
She nodded. “We classified it as X2936, a No Zone.”
No Zone?
“What does that mean?”
“Primitive”.
Gee, thanks.
Though that made me wonder. “You’ve been here before?”
“Me personally, no. The Foundation sent scouts before though. They like to keep tabs on the No Zones, to check on them every few centuries. The last one was here over two of your centuries ago. They reported no progress. Your advancement is quite remarkable. I've never seen a No Zone progress so quickly”.
Yay us?
“And these people...”
“The Foundation, its our central government. The organization responsible for all our laws and order. Its composed of a large number of planets, the capitol of which is on Xernos. I’m from Zeeka. We’re not officially apart of the Foundation but we are awarded certain liberties because of The Goddess.”
There she goes, mentioning The Goddess again.
“This Goddess, that’s Tryn?”
She smiled. “Yes, the Holy of Holies.”
The way she said it surprised me. Before she’d been harsh and kinda cold but when she spoke of this Goddess, she spoke with a soft and devoted sounding voice. Clearly, religion was a big part of her society. It must be nice to believe in something so much to be that devote to it. I believed in God sure but I’m not sure I would go around calling myself His Servant.
“Did this Tryn send you to Earth?”
“No,” she said, her voice losing that softness. “We came seeking a fugitive. They committed a vile crime. As a Stalker, it's my job to hunt criminals. That we ended up here was mere coincidence. She could have gone anywhere.”
She?
“You’re looking for a woman then?”
“A princess, yes.”
Princess?
Did I just wander into a really bad sci-fi movie?
“I’m not sure I understand.”
She sighed, then took a moment before she spoke again: “I’ll try to explain it the best I can. You see, The Foundation is built around the Holy Goddesses. Six Divine Sisters of Great Strength and Power. The Goddesses rule through the people. To have a Goddess is to be Eternal. To Speak for One is the Greatest Gift of All Time."
Speak for one?
“What does that mean?”
“Every generation, the Goddesses choose new Mouths to Speak Through. There is a ceremony called the Ascension of Light, whereupon those deemed Worthy are brought together so that the Goddesses may choose a new Mouth for the next generation. The Mouths are usually of blood, the Rite passed from one daughter to the next. Most in The Foundation take this as an honor. One daughter is chosen to step forward and Speak for her Blood. On the planet Quel, there was a problem. There were, in fact, Five Worthy daughters. Each one as remarkable as the next. The Eldest---Jellia---was thought to be the most Worthy. Sadly the Goddess Aniqa did not believe so and chose her sister, Nalia---the second Daughter---as her Mouth. Jellia was enraged by this decision, stole the Goddess and fled the Ceremony".
“Wait, she stole the Goddess?”
Now I was more confused than ever!
Dey’ya nodded. “The Goddesses do not have a corporeal form of their own, that is why they chose a Mouth to speak for them. After being rejected, Jellia stormed the podium and snatched Aniqa from her resting altar. She fled the room before any in attendance could react. Stalkers were dispatched. We gave chase. She fled in this direction. I have good reason to believe that she came to Earth to hide.”
I nodded but I was still a little confused.
“I still don’t understand this about the Goddess?”
She paused and looked around. She went over to the dresser and came back with a pad of paper and pen. Apparently complimentary of the motel. She started drawing, turning the doodle to me a moment later. I saw a crudely drawn circle I think.
“The Goddess is bodiless. She is just a Heart. The Mouth takes that Heart into themselves and becomes the Goddess in flesh.”
She tapped the circle on her drawing, hoping her little diagram clarified things. Was that supposed to represent the Heart she spoke of? Did she mean they actually ate it or...something flashed in my mind for a quick second. An image of a glowing stone being placed on someone's chest. Almost as if...
I think I was finally understanding.
“Like a symbiote.”
She gave me a confused look.
“A life form using another life form to live,” I said, hoping to clarify.
I almost went to Star Trek and the Trill but I’m not sure that would have been any easier.
“In a way yes. Except The Mouth and the Heart are separate from one another. The Mouth lives their life until the Goddess calls upon them.”
What did that mean?
“The Goddess takes over?”
She shook her head. “No, the Mouth allows the Goddess to Speak through them. She controls her actions, speaks with her voice. Uses her body to do what she needs to do. Then returns back to the Silence of the Mind.”
Sounds like a takeover to me.
"And the Mouth allows this?”
Dey’ya nodded. “She cherishes it. It is Her Life to Share and Serve the Goddess.”
Still sounds crazy to me.
Of course, I didn’t tell her that.
A vision of me flying across the room like a discus scared the hell out of me.
“Dey’ya,” I said, hoping not to sound horrible. “That sounds like...”
“Dey,” she said with a smile. “You can call me Dey.”
“Dey,” I said, blushing.
"Yes, and I know what you’re thinking too. I assure you, the connection between the Goddess and the Mouth is not like that. Together they are powerful. They form a holy union. Galaxies bend to their will, civilizations could crumble at Their Word. It is why Jellia coveted such a power. She was always headstrong but no one ever thought she would try something so low.”
Sounds like a bitch to me.
“What happened? I mean after she ran away?”
“We chased her. My partner and I and Nalia.”
“Wait, her sister came too?”
Dey nodded. ‘All of us were trained together in the Academy. Nalia and I were honor bound to seek out the traitor and bring her to justice. We almost succeeded but Jel opened a Rift and went through it. We gave chase but...”
“But what?”
“When I came out of the Rift, I was the only one. Jel and her sister were both gone.”
“And your partner?”
She nodded. “He was called Nox. He was from Via. Our craft seats two. When we landed, we agreed to scout the area separately. My best guess is that he caught the Mutates by surprise."
Ok, that story explains how she got here and what she was doing here but it didn’t explain them.
“How did they get here?”
“My best guess, Jel created them and had them waiting for us?”
“That fast?”
“Rifts are strange things. You can enter one and not always come out in the same place or time that you entered.”
“You time travel!”
Now I was excited. I used to think that time travel was the coolest thing when I was younger. The idea of being able to travel backward or even forward in time. What kid didn’t dream of something like that? I used to watch everything time travel related---movies, TV---I even read a few books. My fascination with it became even more so after Mom’s death. The idea of being able to travel back in time and save a loved one, that had a lot of possibilities too.
“Time travel is an accidental after effect, it happens from time to time, especially with the firefight we were having. Her craft took quite a few hits before she went into the Rift. Its possible one of those hits damaged her stabilizer and she couldn’t compensate. She could have landed weeks or even months ahead of us, laying a trap would be easy”.
That was a scary thought.
“So now what happens?”
“I find her.”
“Just like that.”
She nodded. “Jel is on Earth. She does not belong here. She needs to be brought back home to face her crimes. The fact that she might become a Rogue Archon is even more dangerous.”
Archon?
There’s that word again. The Slime Head thing used it when it attacked me. He said he smelled It and accused me of having It. I thought it was crazy but now.
“What is that?”
“Archon?” she asked, I nodded. “Its what we call someone in possession of a Heart. The Mouth becomes the Archon when they take the Heart into their possession. It was a job meant for Nalia until Jel stole it from her.”
If Jel was the Archon, what did that have to do with me? And why did they think I was one?
Thinking about it made me start to fidget. I got up to clear my head, absently rubbing the gem hanging from my neck.
I felt a tingle in my fingertips than a warmth.
Then everything felt right.
I smiled.
And for just a slight moment, I could swear I heard someone whisper my name.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Seven by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: And We're back. So it took a very long time. I could write a whole bunch of amazing and cool excuses but I don't really have any. Life is a Bitch. I guess that's all I got. I will say though that I've been sitting on this chapter for a while now because honestly I have NO IDEA where I want to take this story from this point. If anyone please has any suggestions, PM me. I'm serious, I'm really stumped. I wanted to go one direction with it but the story went another. Now I'm lost.
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7.
It was bright, like before.
That blinding flash of light right before...right before I woke up from my dream. The dream I thought was a dream. The dream that turned into reality. I blinked, looking around. Everything was white. It seemed to go on for miles and miles. No matter what direction I looked. Where was I? Was this another dream, a true dream this time? I waved a hand in front of my face but for some reason, I couldn’t see it. Weird. Then I pinched myself. I couldn’t feel a thing.
Was I dreaming?
Taking a step forward, it felt like I was walking on air. Looking down, all I saw was more white. I should have been scared but I wasn’t. It was strange. This place---wherever it was---it was strangely calming. Absently, I reached up to touch my necklace. It was gone. When I touched my chest, I felt nothing there either. Was I even here? Was I even a person? I tried waving my hand again but nothing happened. Did I even have hands here? Everything was so strange and weird and calm. Why was I so calm?
I started to walk more, wondering if I was even walking.
This was one strange dream.
Stranger still was the fact that I didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
Every step I took just seem to lead further and further into the white.
A white that never ended.
Sighing I finally gave up.
That’s when I heard it, someone calling my name.
It was faint at first.
I snapped around, looking for the source. The person called again, it was closer this time. There was something about the voice, something familiar. I’m not sure why but it felt like I’d heard it before. I just couldn’t remember when and where. I started to look for it though. I started walking then moving at a more brisk pace until I was full on running. The more I ran, the louder the voice became. Over and over it called my name. Running in this place wasn’t exhausting at all. In fact, I felt stronger than ever. Whatever issues I had in the real world, they didn’t apply here. I felt like I could run forever.
Maybe even swim forever.
That thought made me smile.
This place.
It was amazing.
I could stay here forever.
But first I needed to find that Voice.
“Closer”.
I was getting close.
“Yes, closer.”
The closer I got, the more it became like a person.
Instead of being something faint and disembodied, it started to take shape.
“CHASE!”
It sounded like a girl.
“Where are you!”
“Here!”
I stopped running. I’m not sure why but I suddenly felt like I should stop. As soon as I did, she appeared. It was almost as if she appeared right out of thin air. I almost went over the top of her. I had to take a step back from an inevitable collision. The girl standing before me was beautiful. She wore a long white dress that billowed around her legs, the skirt covering her feet. She was tall and thin but not twig thing like a starved supermodel. She had subtle curves. An ideal body shape. It wasn’t her most striking feature though. That would be her hair. I’d never seen anyone with blue hair like that. It could have been dyed but I’m not sure someone could get hair like that from a bottle.
Her back was to me and when she turned around, I gasped.
There was something familiar about her.
It wasn’t just her voice.
It was…
I looked at her face but I couldn’t place it.
“Finally,” she said, smiling. “I’ve been trying for a long time, you’re a very hard person to get in contact with”.
She giggled. She had an affectionate laugh.
“What’s going on?” I asked, confused. “Who are you? Where are we?”
She smiled. “Always questions with you. Good, I like that. As for answers, well let’s see”. She waved a hand and a chair appeared just as she was sitting down.
I sat too.
Where did my chair from?
She laughed. “To answer your first question, you’re right. You’re asleep. You’re in the motel room. You’ve had a busy day. You needed the rest. This is a dream. Well in the sense that you and I can talk this way.”
“I don’t understand.”
She smiled. “That was not the response I thought you’d have. I would have thought by now that you might have figured some things out.”
“Figured what out?”
I was confused.
Who was this girl? What was she doing in my dream?
She opened her hand, in her palm was my necklace.
I absently reached for my neck.
I felt my neck now.
It was gone.
“Hey, that’s mine!”
She smiled. “Actually, it's mine. Has been for quite some time now. You could almost say, all my life to be exact.”
The necklace dissolved away, leaving only the gem. It slowly floated in the air, a few inches from her palm and started to glow. First a strange white light than blue. The light was mesmerizing and relaxing. It was familiar too. I’d seen it before. Back in the warehouse, back when I was about too...the Ninja girl! How had I forgotten about the Ninja girl??? I panicked, realizing that I should be dead right now. She swung that sword at me and...and…
Blue Haired Girl smiled. “You were saved. I saved you. I had to protect my...my...”
She paused, I think she was trying to think of the right word.
As she sat there to think, some things started to come to mind. It was a slow process as my mind slowly started to play catch up. It didn’t take very long. The pieces were starting to fall into place but it wasn’t possible, was it? I bought the necklace from an old woman on the street, there was no way...wait, what had she said about it? Something about not even packing it to sell and that she tried for years but no one wanted it? She’d been surprised it was even in her wares that day? It was almost as if...as if the necklace put itself there. That was crazy though. Necklaces weren’t sentient, they couldn’t do things like that.
Unless…
The Mutates…
They smelled it. The first two in the warehouse, the one in the trench coat actually ripped open my shirt. He reached for my throat to strangle me, no not to kill me. He was reaching for...reaching...I absently touched my throat. The necklace. The other one, the one in the clinic. He smelled something too. He was convinced I had whatever it is he smelled. Had demanded I give it to him. Then he called me...he called me….
Archon.
Dey’s words were suddenly in my head: “ Its what we call someone in possession of a Heart. The Mouth becomes the Archon when they take the Heart into their possession...”
The Heart into their possession…
I stopped touching my neck and looked at the blue stone, still glowing and floating above her hand. The little stone that had meant so little to me and yet so much.
The Heart.
Oh, God.
“Goddess actually,” said Blue Hair with that warm smile of hers. “Your Goddess if you’ll have me.”
Not possible.
I pushed back, knocking over the chair as I suddenly got to my feet.
“You can’t be...I can’t be….”
She sighed. “Not the most ideal situation, I’ll give you that. Things are still a bit fuzzy for me too. I remember choosing a Host. I remember the Ceremony then I was stolen. We were running. There was a ship, a chase, time distorted around us...and then...then…
She shook her head. “I can’t remember anything more, its all a blank until the other day. On the street. When you appeared. There was something about you, something calm and familiar about you. I think it was your nature. You have a good heart, Chase. These past few days while I’ve been building my strength with you, I’ve come to realize you are a good person. I think that that’s why I chose you. You care very little for yourself and you help others. Like your sister and your boss. Others too.”
“You know all that?”
She nodded. “I’m able to read your thoughts, share your feelings, your memories...”
“This is crazy.”
“I know its a lot to process and understand,” she said, standing up. “Its hard for me too. I’ve never had a male host before. It's different...its...hard. It might be dangerous too...for both of us...”
“Dangerous?” I asked, suddenly concerned.
More so for myself then her.
“I feel weak. Empty. Not just my memories either. I should have this power but for some reason, I can’t find it. I need to keep trying though...”
That last bit was more to herself then me.
“Can you leave?” I asked, more like blurted.
I’m not sure where that came from but it felt right. Maybe I could help her. Find her a new Host, a proper one. She said it herself, she’d never had a male Host before. Maybe I could find her a better one, a female one. This was all just too crazy for me. There had been someone better for her, someone, more suited for her. Someone like…
“Hey what about the princess?”
“Jellia, the Thief” she snapped, vinegar in her words.
“No,” I said quickly “the other one. Her sister. The one you were supposed to be with. Your true Archon?”
“Nalia,” she said, there was warmth when she spoke the name.
I nodded. “Where is she? Dey said the two of them pursued Jellia together. They followed her through the Rift. Shouldn’t Nalia be here too?”
The girl---Goddess---shrugged. “It's strange. It's rare when One of Us and Our Host are separated. It does happen from time to time but it's usually very painful. Even then, One can usually sense Them. When I woke up on the street, all I could sense was You.”
What?
“You weren’t bonded though,” I said quickly, trying to think of an answer. “Dey said Jellia snatched you away before the Ceremony was completed?”
“She did?” The girl seemed lost in thought. “Strange. I have no memory of that. The Ceremony is for Show. It's for the Masses. We’re bonded to our Host before then. The only way we can be unbonded is by force...or...”
She didn’t have to say.
I saw the look on her face.
There was sorrow. She sighed. When she spoke, there was a foreboding in her voice:
“Maybe that’s why I can’t sense her...”
I found myself stepping forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. “If she’s alive, I’ll help you find her, I promise.”
The Goddess smiled, reaching up and putting a hand on my own. “You’re a good person, Chase. I promise not to intrude on your life. I will also respect that you are only a temporary Host and I will not make the Convergence with you.”
“What’s that?”
She smiled sadly. “Its the final bonding. Now that we’ve spoken, I can sense it. You and I are not Complete yet. Our Souls are still separate. When we find Nalia or another suitable Host, I can be passed to them without any pain.”
Well, that was good to know.
I mean I didn’t mind being a “Delivery Boy” but I’m not sure I liked the idea of having her stuck with me forever.
“It's not ideal for me either,” she said with a smirk.
Great, she can read my mind too.
She was still smirking.
I sighed. “So do I call you Goddess or Girl or...”
“Well my given name is Aniqa but that doesn’t seem appropriate here. This is not Quel after all. We are not in my Temple. I think perhaps an Earth name. What is that you call this stone again?”
I smiled. “Aquamarine.’
She smiled too. “That is perfect then.”
Aquamarine, The Goddess in my head.
Fun times.
“Yes, we need...” she stopped talking to yawn. “I guess that’s going to have to wait, I appear to have exhausted myself. I guess I’m not as fully recovered as I thought. We’ll have another conversation soon after I’ve rested some more.”
There was a flash of light...
I opened my eyes, blinking.
Now that was one hell of a dream.
I groaned, shifting my body. The flimsy blanket slid off me and onto the floor. Where did that come from? Blinking again, I looked around. The room was unfamiliar to me for a sec. Where was I? Slowly though, everything was coming back to me. I was in a motel room, on the run. Shit. I sat up straighter, every muscle in my body was stiff. Sleeping in chairs did not agree with me. I looked toward the window, the early rays of the morning were just shining through the blinds. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the familiar chain still there. I smiled and absently started to reach for the gem but stopped myself.
The dream…
Oh shit, the dream…
Was it real?
Did I really have her in my head now?
I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of calm. And warmth. Lots of warmth. It started in my fingers as a gentle tingle then coursed through my whole body. I felt this feeling before. A couple of times. All after putting on the necklace. It was her, it had to be. So it was real, all of it. Oh, God. The necklace was not a necklace but a vessel for a God. I had a God in my head. I was her Archon. Well at least temporarily of course. That was a little overwhelming to process. All this time I’d been carrying a Goddess around my neck and never knew it. Had it all been by chance? Or was it something else? The old woman had said the necklace wasn’t supposed to be there but then how did it get in her cart? Aquamarine---ummm, Aqua---said she woke up when she sensed me.
So if that was the case, how did she get there?
That was going to nag at me.
Just like something else…
I cursed, jumping to my feet.
I had to pee.
Real bad.
I rushed quickly into the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and quickly started to relieve myself. I was halfway through peeing when I realized I was sitting. Why in the hell was I sitting?
After I flushed, I got to my feet.
I stumbled over to the sink.
I gasped.
The person staring back at me was completely different. Of course, it was still me but everything was different now. For one thing, my hair was really long. It had been shaggy looking yesterday. Today---this morning---it had grown past my shoulders and down my back. I couldn’t remember the last time my hair had grown that long. I cursed. Was this some of what she was talking about? Convergence? She said it had started but it wasn’t finished. Leaning closer, I noticed it was a shade or so lighter too. The color of my hair always straddled between auburn and brown. It never really tipped the scales toward downright brown or red. It was definitely moving more toward the red category now.
My hair wasn’t the only thing that had changed.
My eyebrows looked thinner and my skin, it looked blemish free. Smooth and---I touched my face---soft to touch. My skin had never been rough but it was never this soft though. What’s more, my scar was gone. I used to have this tiny little scar above my right eye. When I was in kindergarten, I got into an argument with another kid over some wooden blocks. In retaliation for not giving him what he wanted, he threw one of the blocks at my head. He caught me above my eye. I had to have a couple of stitches. There was a court hearing over it, the teacher was reprimanded for not paying attention, blocks were removed from the classrooms and we almost sued. It was a big mess. I always used to like that scar though. It gave me character.
Now it was gone.
I reached up to touch the spot where it used to be.
Had she done this?
Was this more of the Convergence she was talking about?
Grunting, I took a step back from the mirror. I stared a bit more at my face. At least, I still looked like me. I’m not sure what I planned to look like but with the changes already, I wasn’t sure. I was scared what might happen if we continued to stay bonded like this. She said she never had a male Host and it was dangerous. I think I was starting to see what dangers she was referring too. It was almost as if…
No, I shook my head.
I didn’t want to think about it.
I quickly undressed and got into the shower. I closed my eyes as I let the water flow over me. It felt good again. There was that tingling and warmth. The calm was back too. I was starting to associate those feelings with her. Did she like the water as much as I did? Is that why she was reacting to it the way I sometimes did? Trying not to think about it, relaxed. I opened my eyes a few moments later to wash my body, taking a slow and careful time with my hair. The motel had provided tiny little shampoo bottles. Washing long hair wasn’t new to me but it felt strange to be doing it again after all this time.
I took my time with the shower today.
I didn’t have to be anywhere…
....Wait...
I cursed.
Carrie!
Damn it, how could I have forgotten. I quickly shut off the shower, grabbing a nearby towel. I wrapped it around my waist and rushed out of the room, nearly colliding with Dey as I did so. I flushed in embarrassment. Not only because I was only wearing a towel. Apparently, she slept in the nude, something she clearly didn’t tell me about last night. Then again, I think I fell asleep before her.
“Ummm...wow...I...”
She gave me a strange look then looked down. “You do not sleep in the nude?”
I shook my head. “Not usually no.”
She nodded. “I can see where it might be uncomfortable then. I will remember that in the future.”
I nodded. “Good to know.”
It was strange really. One minute with Dey it was like talking to a real, normal girl. Other times, it was like talking to a robot. I think it was the way she spoke. So formal sometimes and other times…
It was just weird.
“I need to shower?” she asked, it was as if she didn’t know.
“Most people do,” I said like a dick then quickly added. “You don’t shower on your planet?”
She nodded. “Of course but Zeeka is a lush, beautiful place. We bathe whenever we can. There are many streams and rivers. There is this one spot---outside my village---where several people gather in the morning.”
Several?
I guess where she comes from walking around in the nude wasn’t so weird.
“I miss home,” she said with a sigh.
“When was the last time you were there?”
“It has been a while” she left it at that.
Before I could ask anything more, she slipped around me and into the bathroom. She closed the door just as fast. A minute or so later, I could hear the sound of rushing water. I guess she wasn’t a morning person. Or a morning talking person. Just as well, I wanted to make a phone call. After she destroyed my cell, I’d been nothing but worried about how much Grace and Carrie were probably worrying. Sure I’d been running for my life but that shouldn’t have stopped me from calling them. I was still a little pissed that she crushed my phone though. I understood why she did it but she could have said something before she did it. At least give me a moment to let them know I was ok.
I went over to the room phone. I quickly dialed home, Grace picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?” she asked, a bit sleepy.
I hadn’t realized it was so early.
I inwardly cursed.
“Grace,” I said in a low voice, hoping that supersonic hearing wasn’t one of Dey’s many “superpowers”.
“Chase! Thank God!”
I sighed. I’d only been away for a day or so and I was so happy to hear her voice.
“I’m sorry I made you worried...”
There was a tiny bit of silence. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
Wait, huh.
“I’m not sure...I...”
Grace lowered her voice, almost as if she didn’t want someone to hear: “The cops are here, they’re looking for you and that friend of yours.”
Wait, what?
How?
Then I remembered and groaned. I called it in on my cell. Of course, they’d know it was me. Even if I made an anonymous call, my number would still be on record. A number that my father knew all too well. A number that the dispatchers probably knew too. So not only did I call from a potential crime scene but I fled it too. This was bad, this was really bad. Even more, they knew I was with Dey. They were already looking for her after all.
I quickly grabbed the remote from the floor, flicking on the TV.
It didn’t take me long.
It was all over the news.
Incident at the Clinic. I caught the tail end of it:
“POLICE ARE LOOKING FOR CHASE MATTHEWS, ELDEST CHILD OF CHIEF MATTHEWS, GREENFIELD POLICE’S...”
I muted the TV and cursed.
My school picture was on the screen.
A second or so later, Dey’s picture was there too. First the grainy image from the warehouse then a better one of her outside the clinic. There was video too, must have been from the clinic’s security cameras. Shit. Of course, they had security. The video was pretty damning. It showed her throwing the car door then stepping through the broken window. Double shit. I unmuted the TV, wondering how they were going to spin that little bit:
“That was incredible,” said the female anchor. “I’ve never seen anything like it. That was a car door, an actual car door!”
She was obviously stunned.
I cursed again.
“This is bad,” I said, shutting off the TV.
“No kidding,” said Grace, I completely forgot we were still on the phone together. “How did she do that? Nevermind. Your father is flipping out. He’s got half the police force out looking for you. What the hell is...”
I cut her off. “It's not what it looks like. It's complicated. Dey isn’t a bad person. Look it's better that you don’t know anymore. It's dangerous.”
“Chase, honey, this is crazy. You need to come home or go to the police station or...”
“I can’t. They’ll find me there.”
There was no doubt about that. Whoever was controlling these Mutate things, they seemed to be one step ahead of me.
“Chase...you need...”
“Is Carrie ok?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
Grace sighed. “She’s fine. She’s worried about you but she’s good. We haven’t told her what’s going on obviously. She just wants her big brother home.”
Damn.
I felt myself tearing up.
I couldn’t remember the last time I started crying.
“I’m sorry Grace, I really am. I didn’t mean to get involved in this. It was...it was out of my control. I wish I could tell you more but I can’t, not right now. You need to know that whatever they say, I’m not the bad guy here. Something’s happening, something bad. Something that might change the world.”
Understatement of the century.
“Just...just be careful ok?”
“I promise,” I said, “I’ll call again soon.”
As soon as I hung up, I rushed over to the bathroom. I banged on the door like a maniac. The water shut off a few seconds later then the door opened. At least she was wearing a towel this time. That didn’t stop me from looking at her body. Before I was too embarrassed to notice but now that she was partially covered, I saw an intricate tattoo that started at her toes, wound up around her knees and though I couldn’t see, it probably wound up the rest of her too. I could see a portion of it on her shoulders too. Whatever the symbols were though, I didn’t recognize them.
Wow.
I stood mesmerized.
I snapped out of it a few seconds later.
“We have to go,” I said, after averting my eyes.
"It's your authorities?"
I nodded.
How did she know these things?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Eight by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note: First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for their feedback on this story. Thanks to all of you, I have now been able to figure out the rest of this story going forward. It just took me 4 months LOL. With that out of the way, I'd like to say first of all this is a VERY short chapter. It also does not include Chase at all. Its done in third person and its something I've been wanting to do for a while now but never knew where to do it. I'm thinking I might want to insert more chapters like this into the story going forward. I might even do one in-between one of the earlier chapters, possibly when I decide to publish this on Kindle.
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8.
Elsewhere
The room was dark, she never cared for the dark. You never knew what was lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Walking into the room, her hand gripped her cane tightly. She wasn’t even sure why she was here. She did her part, she thought she was done with all of this. She did a job, a job she was paid handsomely for. Everything had gone according to her employer’s plans and yet he still wanted to see her. The thought of meeting with him again---after all these years---sent a shiver down her spine.
Taking a cautious step forward, she held her breath and waited.
She could sense he was there.
The Dark Man.
She could even almost see him, sitting, the distinctive outline of a brimmed hat on his head. Even the sight of his shadow chilled her to the bones. Time and distance had not changed that fear. When he first walked into her shop nearly thirty years ago, she wasn’t sure what to make of him. It was late at night and she had already locked up. Yet as she was leaving, there he was. The man in the dark. He said nothing at first but when he spoke, his words were like ice:
“Miss Grady”.
Hearing her name come out of his mouth---even now---made her want to run the other way.
She gripped her cane tighter and took a firm step forward.
“What’s this all about?” she asked, with more confidence than she had.
He leaned forward, still in the shadows.
“I wanted to thank you once again for all your hard work.”
Work that took nearly three decades.
When he showed up all those years ago, he wanted one thing. A necklace. Not any necklace though, it had to be a specific one. Made out of Aquamarine on a silver chain. She spent a long time looking. She finally found it about ten years ago. It was in a little market stall in the middle of nowhere. The owner acquired it from a pawn shop a few states over. The last place anyone would look for something that she thought had extreme value. She wasn’t even sure it was the right one until she brought it to him. There had been several false ones in the past. As soon as she passed it over, she knew she’d finally done her job. That’s when he surprised her. He handed it back, told her to hold onto it until someone sought it out and left.
She heard nothing from him until three days ago.
That’s when he told her someone would come for it.
She never expected the boy.
“I still don’t understand any of this” she stammered, this time letting her fear slip.
This Man terrified her. He paid her a large sum of money, waited thirty years for something precious to him then tossed it away like it was nothing. It made no sense. She wanted to ask more for years but was afraid of what the answer might be.
“As it should be, Miss Grady. Questions are dangerous in my line of work.”
“What line of work?”
He sighed. She’d never heard him sigh before.
“If you really must know, the necklace belongs to someone important. Someone I’m looking for. I have reason to believe the boy will lead me to them.”
She bit her lip. She knew she shouldn’t say more but she’d always been the curious sort. As a child, her parents and teachers used to tell her that her curiosity would get her in trouble some day.
She never listened.
“I saw him,” she said, pushing the issue. “The boy. He was on TV with a strange girl. The police are looking for him. Is this what it's about?”
The Dark Man leaned forward.
For the first time in thirty years, she saw his face. She was not sure what she was expecting but she was not expecting a normal man. Sure he was paler than usual but he had a handsome face, striking blue eyes, and nearly white blonde hair. There was something about him too, something familiar. She’d seen him before. He was famous somehow. She just couldn’t place his face.
“I know you...”
“I know,” he said, gesturing to the left with his head.
She turned just in time to see the quick blade snap out of nowhere.
She didn’t even have time to react before her life was snuffed out in an instance. The blade whipped back around, returning quickly to its silent wielder. Her body dropped to the floor a moment later, followed a second later by her head.
The Man leaned back, the lights turned back on.
Flanking him on either side were two young women, both dressed from head to toe in skintight black jumpsuits. The only thing visible were their eyes. To an untrained person, they might look like ninjas. He knew better though. They were soldiers, his soldiers.
“Was that truly necessary, sir?” asked the one who delivered the killing blow.
The Man sighed.
“She asked for too many questions,” he said, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping a spot of blood from his lapel.
This was a new suit. It was now ruined.
He grunted as he dropped the soiled trash on the floor. He would have to replace both now.
It was a shame.
“Killing her is going to cause some unwanted attention” continued his soldier, trying her hardest to work some kind of warm into him.
She was far too late for that.
Any bit of kindness was worked out of him years ago. All he had left was his Duty. He served a purpose and in order to carry out that purpose, he would do anything. Including disposing of lesser life forms like her.
“We’ll replace her with a Mutate.”
“They don’t last” she reminded him.
“When it dissolves, we’ll let the authorities find her body...”
Did he have to think of everything?
“And what of the authorities. Have they located the boy yet?”
“No, not since you let him get away.”
She lowered her head in shame.
Rightly so.
He had set up that scenario perfectly. The boy was like most humans. He got a small taste of something strange so he let his curiosity get the better of him. He went back to the warehouse just as predicted. Things were supposed to be simple. He wasn’t sure why the boy was so important, just that he was connected to all of this somehow. It made sense now. The stone protected him. It wasn’t all the Lieutenant’s fault obviously. She had the boy, neither of them could have predicted the stone would activate and shield him like it did. It was a failed attempt to acquire him and the stone. He needed to know why this boy was so important to It. Why did It wake up to him and not someone else?
Someone like him?
The thought of a mere human bonding with the Goddess infuriated him.
It wasn’t supposed to work that way.
He tried to make it work though. The stone wouldn’t react to him. That’s why he gave it back to Grady. He figured that eventually, the stone would wake up. He thought for sure Nalia or her sister would come for it though. When the boy showed up, he was intrigued. It was the only reason he let the boy live. Just maybe this boy could lead him to his prize. Sadly the only thing the human led him too was more trouble. First the Stalker and now the rest of this mess.
He grunted.
“Clear up this mess,” he said, waving his hand at the body on the floor. “Then reacquire our targets.”
“What about the Stalker?”
He smirked. They were a dime a dozen.
“Kill her like the other. She’s no match for you, my Dear.”
He said that with the utmost confidence. He trained her himself after all.
His soldiers were the best of the best.
If anyone could find this boy, it would be them.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Spectacular
Part Nine by: Enemyoffun
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Author's Note:I had every intention of posting chapter last week, then the power company screwed us over. Due to lack of communication, they shut our power off and it took nearly the whole week to get it back on. So not only did it stop me from posting this chapter, it stopped me from writing Ch.10 too. I'm working on 10 now, hopefully I'll have it ready to post next week. I'm also currently working on something for the new contest. So I might end up splitting my writing time between a couple of different stories going forward.
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9.
I sneezed.
How did that old saying go?
Someone must be thinking about you?
I shook off the thought, needing to concentrate more on what was going on in the present. Particularly the situation at hand. I looked over at Dey, who was standing near the window. The curtains were closed but that didn’t seem to bother her in the least. I couldn’t help but wonder if X-ray vision was one of her superpowers. I also couldn’t stop staring. She was fully clothed now but I couldn’t stop thinking about what I saw less than an hour ago. She was a beautiful woman, with or without her clothing. The funny thing was, I’m not sure she actually knew it. I think that’s what made her more beautiful.
“You’re distracted,” she said after our very long hour of silence.
“What?”
“We don’t have time for your thoughts, we have to concentrate.”
Wait, could she read minds too?
She turned to me, an impish smile on her face.
“Your pheromones give you away,” she said, stepping away from the window. “You are young and at that age but now is not the time.”
And there goes the mood.
Ok, so there was no mood.
She was right though.
I was distracted.
I was more than a little confused too. I had a Goddess in my head and she just told me in a dream that I was her Archon. Well, temporary one but still her Vessel nonetheless. I thought about telling Dey everything but something stopped me. I knew I should trust her but there was something about this whole thing that felt off. If I had a Goddess around my neck, how had she not noticed? She said she was a Stalker, she said she was looking for this renegade princess. Yet she was here with me, instead of fulfilling her mission?
It didn’t make any sense.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked, trying to distract my betraying thoughts.
“We need to leave this place,” she said, finally stepping away from the window.
She flicked her wrist and suddenly that metallic looking staff appeared in her hand. No, not a staff. It was a spear of some kind but it had sharp knife-like points at both ends. What had she called it again? A Kagan? No a Kaagan.
“What is that anyway?” I asked, looking intently at the spear.
“It is the weapon of my people,” she said, twirling the spear as if it was made of paper.
Sure that explained everything.
She saw my look of confusion. “We do not have time for a full explanation but I will try to elaborate” She swung the spear around her body, wielding it effortlessly. “I come from a jungle planet, I mentioned this before, yes?” I nodded and she continued. “From an early age, the people of my Tribe are trained as warriors. First with practice weapons then when we come of age, we participate in a ceremony and at the end of it we are awarded with our Kaagan.”
“A ceremony, like the one to chose the Archon?”
“Not exactly,” she said with a sad smile. “All the youths in the village are sent out into the wild to hunt a Grogar, it's a large beast. Those who survive the Hunt pass the test.”
“Those that survive?”
“It is a very large beast.”
Wow.
So they sent kids into the jungle to die.
That’s messed up.
“It is our way,” she said, reading my thoughts again.
She walked over to the door, looking at it for a moment.
“Tell me about your authorities. Do they wield weapons?”
“Yes, but they only use them if they’re threatened and ONLY if they’re fired upon first.”
“Fired?”
“They’re guns.”
She was still giving me a confused look, so I made a "hand gun" with my thumb and index finger. I followed it up with a little "pew pew" sound.
“Projectile weapons?” she asked, I nodded. She scuffed. “How cowardly.”
Cowardly or not, they got the job done. Say what you will about guns or gun control or the like. My father was a police officer, I was all for guns. If used responsibly of course. He already promised when I was old enough he’d take me to get certified. It wasn't on the top of my priorities list but I think agreeing to it made Dad happy. After all, there were few things we actually had in common. I think he thought if he showed some kind of interest, he might win some kind of points with me. Taking me to the range wasn’t my ideal place but I could sacrifice my discomfort for his happiness.
“Whatever you think about them or their weapons, they’ll be onto us soon.”
It was only a matter of time after all.
Our faces were all over the news. Someone was bound to have seen us come this way. Possibly even the motel manager. We needed to get out of here. The faster, the better.
After figuring out some kind of plan in my head, we set out.
I was quick about returning the room key. Thankfully there was a different person at the desk this morning than last night. It was strange. Had the two of us really spent all night here? Everything was a bit foggy still. I remember renting the room yesterday. I remember lying low for a while with her, asking my questions, finding out the truth about her. The rest of the day and into the evening was blank. Though be fair it was weird hours. When I fell asleep and woke from the dream, it was barely five am. Now it was nearly eight or so, which meant the police had a three-hour head start on us. Grace had mentioned they were at our house, probably rifling through my stuff. A small part of me wanted to run home and forget all of this but I knew it wasn’t possible now. I was committed to this cause, wherever it led.
Which reminded me…
“What is the plan anyway?” I asked after the two of us walked out of the office.
“We have to find the princess,” she said as she started walking.
I’m not sure where too but I followed.
“Which one?” I asked as I rushed to keep up.
“What?”
“There’s two right” I was panting. Wow, she was fast. “Princesses. Jellia and her sister right?”
She didn’t say anything as we crossed through the parking lot. We hopped the guardrail and made it quickly across the street. It was still pretty quiet out. The road we quickly crossed had a diner on the other side. We made our way toward it but she made no attempt to go inside. Instead, she led me over to an abandoned picnic table under a large oak tree. We were barely at the table when she turned toward more, a fire in her eyes.
“You dare question my duty!” she snapped, her fists clenched at her sides.
“Of course not” I stammered, staggering backward.
I did not want to face an angry Dey.
The girl threw car doors.
She glared me down for only a few seconds though. The fire in her eyes dissipated. She sighed heavily and dropped to the bench. Gone was the violent alien girl who wanted to rip off my head. In her place was a sad and broken very human looking girl. I dropped down next to her, making sure I wasn’t too close just in case. Dey was one of those people who clearly wore their emotions on their sleeve. I’m not sure I was ready to close to an angry Dey again.
“I failed” she groaned. “I had one job. Find Jel but then Nal got into this. I should have never let her go.”
“Why did you?”
She scoffed. “I can’t disobey orders.”
I was confused.
“I thought you were from different planets?”
“We are,” she said then sighed. “The Zeekans have no true royal family. Though we have a Holy Goddess, her Archon is always chosen from one of the High Clans. My clan is not. So those who do not serve the Goddess, serve in other capacities. I was sent to Xernos at a very young age to train in the Academy. When I was old enough, I was stationed on Quel.”
I think I was starting to make some sense of all of this.
Dey was some kind of soldier. She was honor bound to serve the Quelan royalty.
“It's not your fault,” I said, hoping to cheer her up.
“It does not matter. I failed in my duty. Upon returning home, I shall petition to have my title removed. I do not deserve to be a Stalker.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
She smirked. “Is this how you humans cheer people up because you’re horrible at it.”
I laughed, placing a hand gently on her’s. “No this is a friend telling another friend to stop being hard on herself. You couldn’t have anticipated everything. Jellia getting sucked into that rift distortion or whatever was not your fault. You pursued her. You did your job. Its also not your fault that she’s not here. We’ll find her.”
She scoffed. “How?”
This time I smirked. “Dey, this is the age of communication and information. There’s no way an alien spaceship coming to Earth would go unnoticed for long.”
“Where would we even look?”
I sighed. Now, this was the part I was definitely going to regret.
“I know a guy.”
“You can trust this friend of yours?”
The cab pulled up across the street from Charlie’s place. I looked out the window, wondering what the hell I was even doing here. When I called Charlie from the diner payphone, I was so sure about things. Now that I was here though, I realized how stupid all of this was. Of course, I could trust him. He was my best friend. He was an alien nut. If anyone knew anything about spaceships arriving on Earth, it would be him. The problem---my problem---was that I didn’t exactly want to get him involved with any of this. It was too dangerous. I didn’t want to be involved in it either but I didn’t have a choice anymore.
Charlie did.
And now, I stupidly made that choice for him.
Shit.
“Here we are...ummm….” said the driver, turning around in his seat.
“Thanks,” I said quickly, handing him my last twenty.
I only had about a hundred bucks on me from before. I spent most of it on the motel room. Then we made a quick pit stop at one of the nearby gas stations to grab some fresh clothes, not the best selections but the hoodies hid our faces well. The driver took my money then gave me my half back with a toothy grin. Most of which was directed at Dey. Even with the hood, her attractiveness shone through. She seemingly ignored him as she climbed out of the vehicle. I thanked him again before clamoring out myself.
The cab didn’t stay around long.
I stopped to watch it go before turning my attention to the building in front of me. I get why Dad didn’t like this neighborhood. All the buildings were old and decaying, the streets were covered in garbage and the people, don’t even get me started on the people. It wasn’t a friendly place. Dad’s attitude about it pissed me off though. He was the Chief of Police, he went to all the city council meetings and not once did he propose anything be done about it. It was like the city had given up on this part of town. Given up on these people. It always angered me when cab drivers sneered at me for having them take me here or the way they bolted off as soon as I stepped out their cars.
“This is disturbing,” said Dey, standing to me.
“Tell me about it”.
So she did:
“I’ve been on your planet, in your city, for nearly one of your weeks now. I’ve seen many things. I have seen how you treat one another, I thought I had seen how you live. It's unbalanced. Your society, for all its advances in the two centuries, you have truly not progressed at all. How can one part of your city live in grandeur and the other part live like this? It's shameful.”
She was right.
I was ashamed that she was right.
“I can’t argue with you there.”
“Your leaders should be ashamed.”
“Our leaders are lazy” I added with a grunt. “Fat politicians who don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves...”
My father included.
She grunted too. “My people have ways of dealing with those types.”
She didn’t elaborate.
I’m glad for that.
After we were done mutually agreeing that my city sucked, we crossed the street. Charlie lived in one of the many identical brick duplexes. Many people passed on by without even bothering to wonder what type of people lived here. Not me. I started up the steps of Charlie’s place when I stopped to turn and look toward the direction of the warehouse district. Had it only been a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime. Dey looked too.
She muttered something under her breath but I couldn’t make it out.
Had it been some kind of prayer?
Maybe for her friend?
Turning toward the task at hand though, I pushed the buzzer for Charlie’s apartment.
The door clicked a second later.
I led Dey into the small foyer then up the narrow stairs to Charlie’s floor. Dey didn’t say anything but I saw the disgust on her face. When we reached Charlie’s door, I knocked once. We had this code. Whenever I visited I always knocked once so he knew it was me. In return, he knocked a few times depending on who was home. If his Mom was home, it was just once. If Jay was there it was twice, if both were there it was three times. Three knocks was the signal for me not to come inside. Jay and their Mom fought constantly. It was not a good place to be.
Two knocks greeted me.
Great.
A second later, the door opened.
Charlie looked from me to Dey and back to me. When his eyes scanned my face, for a moment I saw confusion.
It was gone just as quick though.
He turned to Dey. “Wow, you’re tall.”
She nodded. “My people take pride in their height.”
“Right,” he said, bobbing his head like an idiot. “Well come inside.”
To say Charlie’s apartment was small was an understatement. I tried not to notice but sadly I always did. There was a tiny living area that opened right into the kitchen area. It also fairly small. Both areas led to a hall with three equally small rooms. The sad price to pay to live in this part of town. Dey followed my eyes around the room, directly to where mine was currently looking: on Jay. Charlie’s brother wasn’t a bad person per se, he just had this way about him.
“Hey, who’s the babe,” he asked, eying Dey up like she was a side of beef.
“WAY out of your league,” said Charlie, ushering us down the hall to his room.
When we got inside, he made sure the door was securely locked.
“Sorry about that,” he said, clearing a stack of comics off his desk chair so he could sit.
Dey and I awkwardly took up residence on the edge of his bed.
There really wasn’t a lot of room for three people but we’d manage.
I watched as Dey looked from the bed and dresser to Charlie’s walls which were littered with sci-fi movie posters, game memorabilia, and newspaper clippings. The clippings outnumbered everything else. They covered most of the walls. They were part of Charlie’s obsession. His search for extraterrestrial life. A search I thought was absolutely crazy. Well, that is until I met the alien sitting next to me. When I called Charlie on the phone and told him I had someone he had to meet, he was intrigued. When I told him we were looking for something that only he could find, he was excited.
I’m not sure if he put two and two together but he anxiously told me to come.
So here we were.
Me, the alien nut and the real McCoy.
Charlie was the first to break our very long silence:
“So, Chase says you’re from out of town”.
I scoffed.
“Yes.”
“Where exactly?” he asked. “Ohio, Florida?”
She smiled. “Not this country."
“Oh, are you a new foreign exchange student then?”
I rolled my eyes. Was Charlie being dense or did he really not figure it out? He kept on guessing though, throwing out one country name after another. Dey either answered “No” or gave strange looks. This went on for a few minutes before I all but cracked.
“Show him” I finally snapped.
Dey raised her arm and flicked her wrist, that amazing spear of hers materializing out of nowhere. I thought Charlie was going to piss himself. He did curse though. He also fell out of his chair. I made a move to help him up but he slid away across the floor.
“No way, no fucking way!”
Finally, he got it.
“Yes, fucking way,” I said, rolling my eyes.
At this point, Dey dropped her hood and took off the sunglasses she was wearing. When she did, those amazing golden eyes of her eyes caught the light and sparkled.
Charlie’s mouth went fishbowl.
He stared for some time. No one said a thing. I couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were going through his head right now. I was the skeptic but the truth was thrown in my face. I had no reason to doubt it because I’d seen it. I thought maybe visually showing Charlie might help ease things for him. Looking at my friend now though, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He should have been excited---this was the moment he’d been waiting for all his life---and yet, he looked…
“Amazing” he finally said in a low voice.
Ok maybe not.
Charlie finally recovered from his stunned shock. He slowly got to his feet. He approached Dey slowly, raised his hand and poked her cheek. I waited for her to lash out but when she didn’t, I sighed in relief. She did smack his hand away though. Charlie actually giggled. Well, this was going well. He backed away a second later, dropping back into his chair.
“I have so many questions...”
Of course, he did.
“Those can wait, first we...”
He didn’t seem to hear. He quickly launched into his questions, seemingly forgetting I was even here. They started out simple enough---where was she from. Dey told him about Zeeka and The Foundation. Which of course opened up a whole new set of questions. Charlie wasn’t just an alien geek, he was big into astronomy. So many of his next questions were purely science related. Ranging from what galaxy she was from, to how she could breathe oxygen and how she was speaking our language. Honestly, they were pretty smart too because I never really thought to ask those myself.
“Zeeka is on the edge of your galaxy” she explained.
She flicked her wrist, a holographic planet appeared in her palm. It was the coolest thing ever.
“How in the...” asked Charlie, mesmerized. “What is this?”
Dey smiled. “At a young age, every denizen of the Foundation is given an implant. It allows us to do a variety of things. Like summon my Kaagan for instance or bring up this star chart.”
Now that was cool.
“It allows you to speak our language as well?”
Dey smiled then turned to me. “Your friend is very smart, I’m impressed.”
Charlie flushed.
I rolled my eyes.
“What else can it do?” he asked, excitedly on the edge of his seat.
I groaned. This could go on for hours if I didn’t put a stop to it. I also didn’t like the way she was smiling.
"Look we could spend hours here with all your questions” I quickly interfered. “We came here for a reason.”
Dey nodded, Charlie sighed.
“Charlie,” I said, drawing his attention. “We need your help finding a ship.”
Whatever disappointment that he had before melted away quickly. His eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. He spun around in his chair, cracked his knuckles and opened his laptop. He started typing furiously. I tried to keep track of all the motion on his screen but it was too fast. When he finally stopped, there were several grainy pictures on his screen. Most of them I’d seen at one point or another. They were all the “aliens” he’d been tracking over the years. Most of them were hoaxes even if he didn’t want to admit it. Dey leaned closer too.
“These are...” she said, as he scrolled through one after another. She sighed. “They’re useless.”
Charlie sighed. “What are you looking for?”
She flicked her wrist in front of him.
Once again a holograph appeared. This one was different than before. Instead of the floating planet, there was a sleek black shape of some kind. It looked a bit like an arrowhead but very smooth. The surface of it almost shimmered. She tapped the image with her finger and it changed. The sides of it folded out into wing-like structures and the sleek black surface gave way to one that had a dull shine. There were seams that formed in this metal, clearly indicating a door of some kind.
“This is a Class Z scout ship,” she said, making sure we both got a good look. “Pride of the Quellan Navy. We use these for long ranged interstellar flights. They’re two manned craft. Jellia stole one when she fled. Nalia, Nox and I took ones to pursue her.”
Then that meant there were at least three of these on the planet somewhere.
"Hey Chase” said Charlie after a moment. “Doesn’t that look a bit like a Stealth Bomber?”
Huh.
I squinted at the image again.
The ship was different. It was a lot sleeker and shinier but Charlie did have a point. I could definitely see some similarities between the two.
Well, the original anyway.
“What are you talking about?”
Charlie opened another page on his screen. He quickly typed B-2 and brought up an image. He enlarged it so Dey could take a closer look. Now that I saw it myself, there was very little doubt. The B-2 and Dey’s Class Z were very similar. The Class Z was slimmer though, more streamlined. No doubt designed to navigate space. It was also made from a different material. There was no metal on Earth that could ripple and shine like that. Plus the Class Z had some kind of morphing technology. The way it rippled and transformed like that. We’d never in a million years be able to replicate it.
We clearly tried though.
“Your people stole Quellan technology” she finally sneered.
“I think repurposed might be a better word.”
“This craft,” she asked, still seething. “Where can I find one?”
We both laughed.
She gave us looks.
“We’re not going to be able to get anywhere close to one of those” explained Charlie.
“That won’t be a problem for me.”
I saw that look in her eyes. She wanted to do something crazy.
“Dey, it's a lost cause,” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. “The B-2 is an older model. We use far advanced craft now. It's clear we used a Quellan design though. It just stands to reason that Jellia is on Earth or was." I turned to my knowledgeable friend. “Charlie, when was the B-2 made?”
He shrugged then quickly typed. “It was shrouded in secrecy for a while but I think 1975.”
75.
That was like forty years ago.
“Time travel, Dey,” I said, turning to her. “You said you hit her ship, is it possible she went forty some odd years into the past?”
She nodded. “Rift technology is still very chaotic. We only use it for long flights. With the damage she sustained, she should have never activated her Rift drive. Especially so close to your planet. I’m no scientist but I’ve flown many Rift capable craft. I know the risks. Jellia was very inexperienced. Not only is it possible but very plausible.’
Charlie squealed.
“AREA 51!” he shouted, jumping to his feet. “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”
I groaned.
I was never going to live this down.
Dey gave him a strange look.
I quickly explained. “About seventy some odd years ago, there was an incident outside a little town called Roswell, in New Mexico. Many locals claimed an alien spacecraft crashed near there. There’s been conspiracies about it for years, including a massive government cover-up. They brought the craft and the alien bodies to a secret government base code-named Area 51.”
"The very same base the B-2 was developed at, Chase!”
I ignored him.
Dey did not. “A Class Z, damaged by the amount of firepower it took, would not have been able to land safely. Especially after going into an emergency Rift jump.”
This time my eyes popped open.
“What are you saying?”
“I think your conspiracy theorists were right.”
“YES!”
Charlie started to do a stupid little dance.
I was flabbergasted.
Roswell wasn’t a hoax.
Oh, God.
“You know what this means, Chase?” she asked, excited too. “We have her!”
“Not that easy...”
I was going to further explain why it wasn’t so easy but I was interrupted by the blaring sound of police sirens.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Wayward
by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
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Wayward
Part One by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
Author's NoteHey its been awhile, well at least awhile for new original content from me, the Whateley stuff doesn't count because that's not my universe. This is a story that I came up with out of pure boredom one day. So when I sat down to write it, I wasn't really sure where it was going to go beyond the initial idea I had. I call it a Slice of Life tale because honestly, there really isn't much more to it than that. The chapters are on the short side and the story probably won't go beyond fifteen chapters. I'm not even sure how contained it will be at this point. I'm literally making it up as I go along :D. ----- 1. BUMP. I groaned, nearly dropping my book. Cursing, I turned to the window. Just how many bumps were on this road anyway? I tried to look but of course I saw nothing. In a car, everything zoomed past. I tried my best not to look. It always made me queasy. I always got a little shit in cars, especially when the driver refused to go the speed limit. That was Uncle Frank. He was impatient in everything. If you weren’t going at his pace, he’d run you over. Never in a car of course but I saw him push a little old lady to the ground once. No joke. It didn’t help that he had this innate gift to find EVERY pothole in the road either. I turned away from the window and held my stomach, closing my eyes for a second. I was trying to keep down breakfast. I hated long car rides. Dad did too. It was one of the few things he and I had in common. It was something insignificant before but now… Now it didn’t matter. Sighing, I tried to go back to my reading. I got a few more lines into the paragraph when… BUMP! I cursed. This time I did drop my book, I was also being glared at from the front seat. Mom was riding shotgun, doing her best to read as well. My swearing drew her attention and her ire. I could have apologized but what was the point. She was cursing twenty minutes ago. “Frank, every one!” My uncle grunted. “This car handles like a piece of shit...” “It's not the car, Franklin,” snapped my mother. The two of them started bickering. It was almost as if they were siblings; oh wait, they were. I tried to tune it out. It wasn’t easy. They’d been going at it nonstop since we left Arizona. We should have flown. Unfortunately we didn’t have the money for that. Mom tried to sell us on the genuine road trip experience for days. I wasn’t happy about leaving home but I was at least trying to be supportive. I couldn’t say the same for my very own sibling. Thankfully the backseat was wide enough that the two of us could actually put a few things between us. Not that it helped much. Allison was bit high maintenance. I think calling my sister “superficial” would be nice. I know what I wanted to call her most of the time but I would get grounded if I tried. Instead, I tried my hardest to speak to her as little as possible. Most of the time it worked. “Ally, can you get my book,” I asked, realizing that in the justle of dropping it it slid to her side of the car, out of my reach. She couldn’t hear me though. She was currently plugged into her phone, like usual. I tried raising my voice but her music was loud enough that I could hear it. Groaning, I did the only thing I could think of and smacked her. She snapped and glared at me. “What the fuck, dweeb!” “Allison language!” “Mike hit me!” Mom sounded bored.“Madison, stop hitting your sister.” “I dropped my book at that last pothole and it rolled under Ally’s feet.” Mom sighed. “Allison, get you brother’s book." She rolled her eyes at me, reached forward and grabbed it. Then she whipped it at my head. I’m just glad I didn’t have the window open anymore. All our windows were shut now and the heat was even on. I couldn’t remember the last time we had heat on in the car. But we weren’t in the southwest anymore. A fact that my sister kept reminding us over and over again. When we left Arizona three days ago, she was bitching about the heat, like usual. When we left the motel in Pennsylvania this morning, Mom told us to dress warmer. It was January in the Northeast. There was actual snow on the ground. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw it in person. Well my sister didn’t listen and kept wearing the same short shorts. Of course she didn’t start complaining about the cold until we were in the middle of nowhere. Now it was too hot. At least the trip was finally almost over. We were in New York now, the last leg of our trip. Home sweet home. Well at least for Mom and Uncle Frank anyway. My family was native to a little town in Western NY called Duncan, it was so small most people didn’t know about it. It’d like to say it was one of those famous places that no one ever heard of but it wasn’t. There was nothing interesting about it at all. Unless you liked cows. There were A LOT of cows there. We lived there until I was in second grade when we moved to a suburb outside of Phoenix. That was eight years ago. It was home, a home we never expected to leave. No one expected Dad to get sick. They didn’t catch it in time and the last two years of our lives were a living hell. That was three months ago. We tried to make it work but all of us were miserable. That was when Mom finally decided we needed a change of scenery. Grandpa Phil passed away last year and Grandma Karen was all alone in a big house. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. So Mom quit her job, we sold the house. Uncle Frank hopped on a plane and agreed to make the trip back “home” with us. Of course Allison wasn’t happy. It was her senior year. She tried to talk Mom into letting her stay with friends but Mom didn’t want to leave her eighteen year old alone. So the two of them were barely on speaking terms at the moment. Except to fight of course. That was nothing new though. All Mom and Ally did was fight. It slowed down when Dad got sick but that just meant they did it quieter. Me, I did my best to keep my head down and soldier on. It's what I always did. As long as I had a book, I was good. It's how I coped. Books helped me get through life. They were definitely there to help me through the dark times. Even when I didn’t feel like reading and all I wanted to do was cry, they were still there. They were my escape. Eventually I had to come back to reality though. The thing is, I’m not a fan of the world as it is now or how it was before. Especially the people in it. People always disappointed. At nearly sixteen years old, I was short. Shorter than most boys. I had delicate features and a soft voice. It got me into a lot of problems. Dad tried his best to help. He tried to get me to do things with him that he and his Dad did. We played catch, attempted to lift weights in the garage. None of it really worked. Dad tried to get me to play hockey when I was younger once. I found a passion for ice skating but not the sport Dad wanted.It was Dad’s thing. He played professionally. First in Quebec then in Buffalo. It was the reason we moved to Phoenix actually. Dad was traded there to finish out his career. He retired about a year before he got sick. We thought it was just because he was getting older and slowing down but it was actually the cancer. I didn’t stop trying Dad’s things though. I tried to the end. I thought maybe if I kept trying, it would help him get better. It didn’t. Another disappointment. So it was back to my books. A smack on my shoulder broke me from my thoughts. I turned and Allison was holding something. “You dropped this too”. It was an old photo that I used as a bookmark. Taking it, I looked and smiled. I only ever truly had one friend in my life. His name was Charlie. He was the closest thing to a best friend that I had. We only met that summer before we moved but it felt like I knew him for years. We were inseparable. He was probably the coolest kid I knew. He was everything I wasn’t which only made him cooler. Charlie was that kind of kid who was into everything, not just sports either. He was rough and got into fights. He would spit and curse. If it was raining, he’d jump into the first puddle he could find. If there was mud, it was all over him. If Allison gave us crap, he gave it right back to her. He was fearless too. I used to idolize the hell out of him. When we had to move away, I cried for days. It wasn’t something a boy should do but I didn’t care. We had that kind of bond and it was shattered in an instant. It took me a long time to get over it but I never forgot about him. We kept in touch for a while. We were on Facebook and emailing every day. We even video chatted when we could. Then the messages stopped coming and the emails were less and less. By the time middle school started, our friendship faded away. It was hard to keep a long distance friendship, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. Charlie was my first disappointment. “That’s your little boyfriend, right?” asked my sister with a laugh. I rolled my eyes. “Haha, you’re a riot.” I stuck the picture into the back of my book. She didn’t stop though. “Maddie and Charlie, you were so cute together!” She started making kissing faces. I fought back the urge to punch her. Instead, I turned away from her back toward the window. It was weird. I hadn’t actually thought about him in a long time. I found the picture when I was packing last week. It was stuffed in one of my old yearbooks. I gasped when I found it. Everything had been so bad and depressing at that point, for a very long time. I think it all started with him, with leaving him. But I was going back now. I could see him again. That excited me. It also scared me a bit too. I was pretty certain I knew why he stopped talking to me. He got a life after I was gone, he got new friends. The thing was, would he even remember me? @@@@@@@@
The ride into New York was fairly uneventful. Or would have been if Ally had a bigger bladder. The first rest stop sign we passed, she started complaining about having to pee. She and Mom went back and forth about it for nearly ten minutes, ultimately it was Uncle Frank who made the decision. So here we were again, making more delays. It was just as well though, I had to pee too. Not that I was going to say anything. I liked ribbing her and for the last five of those ten minutes, I teased her with various water related facts. If she could have gotten away with it, she probably would have slugged me. As it was, she was glaring fiercely. “Well I suppose we could all use a quick stretch of our legs...” We were pulling into the rest stop now. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Uncle Frank was out the door. He made a mad dash for a small area near a gas station, a second later he was lighting up. Mom wouldn’t let him smoke in the car and the man had been twitchy for a while now. I gave him another ten second glance before I rummaged in my pack for a rubber band. I finally managed to find one. I was starting to pull my hair back into a ponytail when it snapped. I cursed. Shit, it was my last one too. I usually didn’t care if my hair was loose but not in public. “Hey mom, you have a rubber band?” Please say yes, please say yes. Mom looked in her purse for less than a minute and shook her head. “Sorry sweetie, borrow one of your sister’s things.” I turned to Ally and she had that evil grin. “I’m not letting him put one of my things in his hair!” “Allison”. Mom was turned around in her seat and glaring now. My sister rolled her eyes. She made an attempt to “search” her bag before giving me an overexaggerated shrug. “I think they’re in my other bag”. Sure they were. “Convenient,” I said and that grin of hers took evil to a whole new level. So that’s how it's going to be. “It's fine,” I sighed and got out of the car. I pulled up my hood, doing my best to get most of my hair inside. The last thing I needed was for some idiot to see it and make a comment. I generally kept it long. I’m not going to lie, it was mostly out of spite. Mom and Dad used to send Allison and I to a swanky private school. It was where a lot of the players on Dad’s team sent their kids. To Ally it was a paradise, being one of the in-crowd was her thing. I was never a fan of conformity. Thankfully the dress code didn’t dictate hair length. I kept it past my shoulders because most of the boys my age kept it short. Ninety percent of them were dicks and I didn’t want to be like them. Like their parents, all they ever really cared about were sports. I learned early on if I kept my mouth shut and my head down, I was left alone mostly. The thing was, it wasn’t my hair that made them notice me. It was my face. I looked like Mom. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I loved my mother. The problem is, she was gorgeous. I know most kids think their mother is gorgeous but mine really was. She was a bit famous too. As a teenager, she used to be a figure skater. She won various competitions, even went to the Olympics. For a time, she was a household name. Then she gave it all up to go to college. It caused a bit of a rift between her and Grandma for a few years. A rift that was healed when Allison was born. When I was born a few years after that, their bitterness was all but gone. Things were still tense with them from time to time but time heals all wounds they say. Alas, Allison turned out to be a disappointment to Grandma. When her attempts to turn Ally into another Mom failed, she shifted her focus to me. It helped that I liked to skate. I felt free when I was on the ice. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same. I was a boy after all. Grandma tried to rope me into competitions but I was never interested. Mom taught me everything she knew though. Most of it was for girls but I didn’t care. Like I said, I was dainty and a bit on the small side. It was perfect for me to do a lot of the things that she used to do. The thing was, I knew she regretted some of it too. I once overheard her talking to Dad about me, said she wished “...Maddie was a girl too. He’s got such talent, he could go far...” It was around that time that I stopped skating too. I loved my parents but I was tired of them trying to turn me into a clone of them all the time. So I decided to just be me. A me that didn’t care what others thought of him. Well, most of the time. Like I said, I didn’t like the attention. Walking from the car toward the rest stop building, I could already feel several eyes watching me. There were quite a few cars in the parking lot. I know they were all empty but being around this many people made me jumpy. Most people might think it was because I was afraid. In a way, I was but not for the reason one might think. I wasn’t a target for bullies. Hell, I think I would have welcomed some guys trying to beat the crap out of me. Yeah, it sounds crazy wishing to be beaten up but it was better than the alternative…. There was a group of them standing near the entrance. They were college age, standing around smoking. They were laughing amongst themselves. I noticed them when we first pulled up but I was hoping they’d be gone by now. No such luck. I took a quick glance their way as I was walking just to gauge what I might be up against. They were taller than me, well most boys were. They were all dressed for winter: heavy coats, gloves. If I had to guess, they were probably on their way back to college after break. I kept my head down and attempted to push past them. “Hey, check this one out”. Shit. “Wow, a real cutie” said another. “Way hotter than the first one.” The first one they were no doubt talking about was Allison. My sister was cute in her own right. A lot of the boys liked her. Then they started to talk to her and found out that being pretty didn’t mean being nice. She had a horrible personality and treated people like dirt. I often told her if she kept it up she’d be old and alone in her later years. Then she’d get mad and hit me. She liked the attention though. I can only imagine that she tried her best to get them to notice her. I was waiting for them to try to block the door but they didn’t. I sighed in relief myself and pushed my way inside. I stopped shaking as soon as I was far enough away. I found a spot away from the entrance to catch my breath. Thankfully, that was a lot tamer than usual. Some guys just didn’t know when to quit. It didn’t matter how many times I told them I wasn’t interested. I tried telling them I’m not a girl too. That used to work when I was younger but as I got older, words like that only caused problems. Most either didn't believe me and those that did, just got really angry. I found that eventually trying to deny them was futile so I just tried to avoid them whenever possible. Most of the time it worked, other times… “Hey wait up!” Double shit. There was ALWAYS one. I cringed. I thought about ignoring him but that never worked. So instead, I pretended not to hear him and made my way toward the restrooms. It wasn’t a lie, I really needed to pee. I could have blown his mind and went into the men’s room but that would have meant he could follow. That’s the last thing I wanted. The thing is, I did not want to go into the ladies’ room. I groaned. I was trapped and there was nothing I could do but wait and see what this guy wanted. Taking a deep breath, I slowed down a bit so he could catch me. There was no point trying to run anyway, I wasn’t that fast. So I decided to turn and face him. He was tall. He had rugged good looks too, sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. I was right to say he was older than me too, probably only by a couple of years though. There was something else about him too, something that I couldn’t place. It was almost as if we’d met before but I couldn’t figure out where. Which was crazy of course because I hadn’t been in New York in what seven or eight years. He smiled, rubbing the back of his head. “Hey sorry about that. Those guys are idiots.” Well at least one of them wasn’t. “It's fine,” I said, willing to say anything to get rid of him. This was embarrassing. “I’m Steve by the way,” he said, flashing that award winning smile. Wow, his teeth were so white. This was usually the point where I burst the guy’s bubble. They would come on strong and all flirty, tell me their name and hope to have a chance. I usually felt bad afterward but it's not my fault I look the way I do. I tried cutting my hair once but people kept complaining at me for doing so, “why would such a pretty girl have hair that short” was a big one, so I just stopped. There was no point in trying. I was pretty much numb to all of it nowadays. If someone said, “oh you’re so pretty”, I took the compliment and moved on. If a guy flirted with me, I turned him down. I was always careful too. I started to read people in a way. I think I had a pretty good idea who was who and who might react badly to the truth. Steve seemed like a nice guy. What the hell? It's not like I’ll ever see him again anyway. “I’m Maddie”. “Well it's nice to meet you Maddie, I hope you have a nice trip.” He then turned and started to walk away. Wait, that was it? Wow. He got about five feet away before stopping and turning around. “I’m sorry if this sounds weird but have we met before?” “What?” He was giving me a strange look. “It's just you look awfully familiar but I can’t quite place it...” Ok, so that was a new line. I’d been hit on a lot lately and guys tried lots of different tactics. Feigning some kind of connection to me, a connection that was clearly fabricated, that was a new one. The thing was though, Steve seemed awfully familiar to me too. Maybe it was because he just had one of those looks. He looked like a typical All-American college student. He also looked like he could be on the cover of a magazine. I’m not going to lie either, he made me a bit jealous too. Steve was definitely the type of son that would make a father proud. “Sorry, I’m just passing through, never been here before,” I lied. I didn’t want a complete stranger to know where I lived or where I was going to live. He nodded. “Must have one of those faces I suppose...” “I get that a lot,” I lied again. “I’d ask if you wanted to get something at the snack bar with me but this is awkward enough as it is, so I’ll just leave you to it.” Good, because my bladder was about to burst. He finally left but didn’t stop staring. Now, that I was familiar with. I watched him until he retreated back to wherever his friends were. As soon as he was completely gone, I made a mad dash for the restrooms. I was almost into the men’s room when a little old lady leaving the ladies’ room stopped me. “Sweetie, that’s the boy’s loo,” she said with a friendly smile. “Oh, I guess it is,” I said, thanking her as I went into the girls’ room. I rolled my eyes as soon as I stepped inside. I would be ashamed if this was my first time in the ladies’ room. It sadly wasn’t. I was all too familiar with places like this these days. This one had a peach colored décor and smelled like lilacs. I’m not going to lie, ladies’ restrooms always smelled a lot nicer than the mens’. I went into a stall and quickly peed. I didn’t want to spend anymore time in here than I had to. At the sink, I washed my hands as quickly as possible. In the mirror, I saw my reflection and groaned. Staring back at me was Maddie The Girl. Even with the hood and part of my hair spilling out of it, I still looked like a girl. There was a flush behind me and a girl around my age approached the sink next to me. “Girl, you need some color.” “I’ll get right on that,” I said a bit rudely before leaving. I was done being nice. Walking out of the restroom, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Ally: YOU FALL IN? I groaned and typed a response: OMW. Thankfully, Steve and his friends were no longer hanging around the entrance. I sighed in relief before making my way out of the building. Ally was standing outside near the car, looking annoyed. She huffed at me as we both got inside. I’m not sure what her problem was, she could have gotten in without me. A few minutes later, we were on the road again. I found my book but I couldn’t get back into it. Every time I tried, I kept getting distracted thinking about Steve. “He was cute,” said my sister out of the blue. “What?” Could she read my mind? “The guy, you have good taste.” There wasn’t a mocking tone to her voice either. “Shut up!” I said and slugged her arm. “Mom!” “Madison!” I sighed and apologized. Now that I was thinking about it anymore but why was he sticking with me when no one else ever did? Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF |
Wayward
Part Two by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
Author's NoteMeant to post this last week, couldn't get it edited in time. This chapter is shorter than the last. I also changed the spelling of the sister's nickname, it works better this way. ----- 2. We arrived in Duncan a little after one in the afternoon. Compared to Phoenix, the place felt tiny. Ok, so technically, we didn’t live in Phoenix, but we were only a twenty-minute car ride away. You could officially call this place the country. There was nothing but farms for miles. The city proper was centered around one main road with several smaller ones branching off it. Most of the important things - city hall, a couple of churches, the school - they all branched off from that road. In order to get to Grandma’s place, we had to drive straight through the city. Looking out the window as we passed all the Mom and Pop stores, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. The last time I was here, I was barely nine years old. “Wow, they still have that old theater?” Frank scoffed. “The city council tried to tear it down to build a more modern one, but the historical society stopped them.” It was no secret that Uncle Frank was all about progress. He spent a good portion of the ride bitching about how Duncan was not willing to take a step into the 21st Century. In fact, according to him, they were barely into the 20th Century. Looking out at all the buildings as we passed them, it was clear that he wasn’t far off. Most of them looked like they were built in the fifties and had the chipped paint and fading signs to prove it. If I remembered correctly, the city’s economy was built around farming. Most of those farms were going under now though due to modern advances. The city was dying and from the looks of things, it was practically a corpse already. It was kinda sad really. It was getting sadder every day too. “Jack Carson is the only one who makes sense around here,” my uncle continued as we drove. Carson? Charlie’s Dad? If I remembered correctly, Charlie’s dad was a big-time real estate guy. Before I moved, he was in the process of working some kind of land contract just outside the city. I wasn’t really interested at the time because, well, I was eight. I read something about it before moving here. I liked to be informed now. According to the article I read online, Carson Estates was a huge development outside the city. Mr. Carson was now trying to bring in new business, starting with a strip mall and a lucrative development deal with one of the tech moguls. This area was a prime location for computer server farms. The problem was the locals. Carson was buying up a lot of farmland and converting it into viable property for future development. People were fighting it and from what I could tell, losing. My grandparents opposed it. Their opposition was gaining steam until Grandpa’s heart attack. With Grandpa gone, no one had the audacity to fight Jack Carson. Grandpa’s law firm was left in limbo. It nearly closed its doors before Mom agreed to move back home. Things hadn’t been easy though. Grandpa was a civil rights attorney and Mom studied contract law. Back in Phoenix, she was just a cog in a very large machine. Now she was going to be her own boss. If I remembered correctly, Grandpa only had one partner. A partner who was struggling to keep things going. He was happy for Mom’s help. Things weren’t going well with him, either. Especially with people like Uncle Frank fighting against him. Driving up here, my mother and her brother barely spoke to one another. “I’m not getting into this again,” Mom said, and the subject was dropped. They had argued about it on and off over the last couple of days. I, for one, would be glad to finally leave this car. My wish came about ten minutes later as we finally arrived at Grandma’s farm. The farm in question had been in my grandmother’s family for a few generations. It was passed to her by her father, who received it from his father. It would officially pass to Uncle Frank when Grandma passed, though that was up for debate. Everyone in the family knew what Frank intended to do with the land. He kept trying to convince Grandma it was time to let things go and move on. Being a Madison meant very little to my uncle. The fact that the Madison homestead sat on several acres was the only thing he saw. Well that, and future dollar signs. It was no secret that Carson wanted the land and that Frank was already making a deal to sell it. Us being here was a hindrance to said plan. Grandma wasn’t a moron though. Mom was the oldest by two years, but per her parents’ will, she inherited the law firm. Frank was the one who inherited the farm. As it was now, Grandma was already in the process of drawing up a new will. She intended to leave everything to Mom. Something that Frank didn’t know for sure but more than likely suspected. To say he was pissed was putting it mildly. Pulling up in front of the large farm house, Grandma was waiting with a smile. It was easy to see she and Mom were related. They both had the same dark hair and green eyes, like me. They were both short too, like me. The only thing the three us didn’t have in common was our gender. Though to many, that was up for debate. “Oh, my babies!” She was hugging Allie as soon as she got out of the car. For an old woman, she was pretty fast. My sister didn’t even have time to react to the ambush. I suppressed a laugh, because as soon as my sister managed to get away, I was next. Unlike Allie who looked annoyed, I welcomed Grandma’s hug. It was warm and comforting. Not that my mother didn’t have comforting hugs, there was just something about a grandma’s hug that made everything all better. I got lost in it, even going so far as putting my head on her shoulder. A gesture made possible by the fact that I was only an inch or so taller than her five foot three height. Yep, I was that short. Sigh. Grandma finally let me go and looked me straight in the eyes almost. Double sigh. “Well, aren’t you as cute as button, just like your Mom.” Great, just what every boy wants to hear. She even booped my nose with a gleeful giggle. “Mom, stop teasing, you’re going to bruise his male ego.” Mom was out of the car now, Uncle Frank was too. I think I heard him scoff at Mom’s comment. Yeah, well, Fuck You, Frank. Grandma moved on from me to Mom, hugging her just a bit longer than us. There was a hidden meaning in that hug that was understandable to sadly a lot. Two women sharing their grief, roughly a year apart. The hug lasted only a minute or so and when she let Mom go, she glared at my uncle. “Franklin, stop being an ass, and get the bags.” Uncle Frank grumbled as he opened the back of the SUV. I watched as he started taking out the suitcases there. We traveled fairly light. Most of our belongings we put into a moving truck and one of those storage pod things. Most of our furniture would go into the barn while we stayed here. Mom had a plan. We would live with grandma for a month or two then find our own place somewhere. Grandma was happy to have us and told Mom to take her time but it was clear she liked living alone too. Mom had other plans. She wanted to make sure everything was ok. Mom’s cousin Maggie called her last month about Grandma. There were some health concerns that the family was worried about. Mom didn’t let on she knew about those concerns, but like I said, Grandma wasn’t a fool. She emailed me shortly after Mom told her we were coming. The woman was pretty clever when she wanted to be. I guess it helped that she used to be a mathematics professor. She caught onto Mom’s scheme pretty quick, but she told me she’d let my mother have her moment. Even now as she berated Frank for his thoughtlessness, she looked past him to wink at me. I gave her a smile back, the two of us sharing our own secret. “Maddie, why don’t you help Frank with those bags?” I knew Mom was trying to boost my ego after Grandma’s demasculinization from a few moments ago but we both knew there wasn’t much I could do to help. I wasn’t Dad after all. My arms were like pipe cleaners. I wouldn’t be able to move those cases an inch. I should know, I tried to move them out of the house when we packed the car back in Arizona. After some not so playful teasing from Frank, he unloaded the car by himself. Mom looked at me strangely for a moment before she realized her blunder. She gave me a sad smile before going to get a case herself. Yep, even my own mother could lift one. I was a failure as a man. Ok, so I didn’t really care. Well not much anyway. Being masculine and the strongest was not my thing. Dad wanted it to be, though. He did everything he could to make me like him. It wasn’t just the “trying to get me to play hockey stuff” either. He tried to fully immerse me in all things “guy”, but it never really worked out the way he wanted. Hockey had led me to figure skating, weight lifting had led me to Pilates and sports games had led me to, well, HATING sports games. Dad didn’t stop trying to relate to me though. He encouraged me in everything I did, even if he didn’t like or even understand it. He did like it when Charlie was around though. We used to do a lot of boy things together, something I think made Dad extremely happy. Dad smiled every time I came home covered in mud. When we moved away, I think he was just as sad as I was to lose Charlie. I fell back into my old habits quickly, and it only got worse, according to his thinking. It didn’t help that I didn’t really have a lot in common with most boys my age after Charlie. My only real friend back home was Leon, his family was from South Korea, and the two of us became friends through a science fair in the 4th grade. I use the term “friends” very loosely though. Most of the time we hung out, we studied. When we actually did talk to one another, it was usually about school work. The rest of the time we sat in either his room or mine, reading in total silence. Fun times. Leon kept me sane though. He also finally helped me get over Charlie. In a weird sorta way. “You ok, honey bun?” asked Grandma as she sidled up next to me. I was still standing at the back of the SUV, all of our bags unloaded now. I blinked, not realizing I was lost in thought again. “I’m good, just thinking.” She smiled, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Well, let’s get inside, I’ll show you to your room. I think you’re going to like it!” I did my best to smile. @@@@@@@@
Grandma’s house was huge. It was built by her great-great grandfather at the turn of the last century. By the standards of the day, it was considered fairly large. It had had three remodels and expansions since then, the last circa 2002ish, shortly after Allie was born. Walking into the foyer and the large living area, you could see where old met new. Especially with the furniture and electronics. My grandfather tried to stay as up-to-date and as modern as he could with those kinds of things. The 50-inch 4K TV being a big example of that. I felt a twinge of sadness staring at that TV, because Dad would have loved it for his “game nights” as he called them. Back home, he had converted our den into a sports area for him and his old teammates to watch the games. That TV would have made their day. Looking beyond the room, my eyes were drawn to the large staircase leading to the second floor. Beyond that, I knew the hall led to the kitchen, dining, and sunrooms. There was a guest bedroom on the first floor as well. It had been one of the later additions. “I’ve set you up down there, Debra, there’s all new linens and the walls have recently been painted.” “Mom, you didn’t have to do that!” “Don’t be silly!” That’s the kind of person my Grandma was. She took a moment to lead Mom down the hall, while Allie and I waited patiently in the living room. Grandma had this way about her. Sure, my sister and I could have gone storming up the stairs to find our own way, but it would have upset her. Grandma liked to personally make sure everyone had their place and she got satisfaction out of showing each of us said place. Thus, only a minute or so later, she returned down the hall, smiling. “Right this way, kids!” she said, leading us toward the stairs herself. The second-floor landing was wide enough for all three of us but we only stood on it for a few seconds before she led us down the hall. The first door was on the right; it was the bathroom. It was an old holdover from the pre-2000 renovation, because all the rooms had ensuites now. There was also a bathroom downstairs, for guests. That one had been the original bathroom before the renovations when my mother and Frank were kids. I remember Mom talking about how hard it had been sharing a bathroom with him. The new bathroom and the ensuites were added when they were teenagers. The first bedroom was right after the bathroom. “This was Frank’s room, I thought I’d put Madison in here,” said Grandma, opening the door. We all took a peek inside. I knew from the last time I was here, that Uncle Frank had the largest room in the house. At one time it was decorated with a bunch of his childhood crap. Now all of that crap was gone, replaced with a dull gray décor and some nice prints on the wall. I could see myself in this room. It wasn’t too overdone or flashy. There was a desk too, and if I asked, I’d probably be able to get some shelves in here for my books. “Wait, you’re going to put me in Mom’s old room, then?” asked my sister. “That was the plan.” said grandma with a reassuring smile. Allie shook her head. “The smaller room? I don’t think so!” She pushed past us, slamming her shoulder into me as she marched into the room. She went to the king-size bed that dominated most of the room, and dropped herself upon it. “THIS is MY room.” I rolled my eyes. Of course she’d make a powerplay, it was typical Allison. “Allison dear, this is a fine room, but your mother’s room...” “Is Madison’s now.” finished my sister, with a smug determination. I sighed. “It’s fine, Grandma, there’s no point arguing with the spoiled brat.” Allie glared at me for the remark but said nothing. My grandmother stood in the doorway and stared at Allie for a moment. “Allison, we will discuss this later.” My sister’s glare evaporated instantly. Allie might not have been afraid of being a bitch with Mom, but I think Grandma scared her. I couldn’t help but smirk to see the color drain from her face. She didn’t even attempt to hide it either, which was all the more satisfying. We left her to her fear and started further down the hall. My mother’s old bedroom was the next door but on the opposite side of the hallway. I’d seen it before so I knew what to expect. When Grandma opened the door, I noticed nothing had changed since the last time. The room still had a pale pink décor; it still had that canopy bed and all the stuffed animals. There were two dressers, a nightstand, and a desk. On the walls were various posters, some of pop stars, but most were famous figure skaters my mother idolized. There were skating trophies everywhere. But, the focus of the room was a display case over my mother’s bed. It was where she kept her important medals. Chief among them were the two Silvers and the Gold from the Olympics. Mom still got stopped and asked for autographs every once in a while. Allie thought it was embarrassing, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever. “I’m sorry that your sister took the other room,” said Grandma, with a frown, clearly expecting me to complain about the girliness of this one. In truth, I was happier to be in this one. Whenever we used to visit Grandma before, I had slept in this room. I’m not sure why, but it made me feel closer to my mother. Smiling, I walked further into the room. I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the bookcase on the far wall, next to the closet door. Mom was a reader like me. She didn’t just read some best sellers either. I knew from our personal library back home, that Mom liked classic literature. It was apparently a hobby she had in childhood too, because I saw a lot of really good books. I smiled at the prospect of reading some of my favorites again. “Your sister doesn’t know what she gave up.” said grandma as she went over to the closet, opening the door. “This is a walk-in. Something I was hoping to show her before she got selfish.” I stood up and walked over. Sure enough, the closet was huge. A lot of my mother's old clothes were still there. It was like a 90s flashback, one I couldn’t help but smirk at. Lots of bright colors that most people wouldn’t be caught dead wearing today. In the back of the closet, beyond the flashback, were her skating outfits. I was actually surprised to see them there. I thought for sure they’d be somewhere more official. I started to reach for the sleeve of one of her practice jackets when I stopped myself. The last thing I needed was for Grandma to think I was weird. “Impressive, isn’t it?” she asked, I nodded. “Well, there is this too.” Grandma pulled a little step stool forward, then reached up toward the ceiling. I followed her hand and saw a hatch with a chain. A second later, she was pulling on the chain and the hatch opened, a ladder folded down. Mom’s room had an attic! The ladder fully fit in the space of the closet. Grandma led the way up; I followed. I was surprised how spacious it was up here. There was enough room for me to stand. It wasn’t dusty either, which told me my Grandmother cleaned it often. There were a lot of boxes, but I also noticed a couple of trunks, a sewing table, and a dress dummy. The table and the dummy really surprised me. “You sewed Mom’s outfits?” “At first, but eventually your mother did most of it.” I was shocked. “I didn’t know Mom could sew?” Grandma chuckled. “Before going to school for law, your mother wanted to be a fashion designer. She used to spend hours up here designing outfits. She even managed to make a few.” I wasn’t expecting any of that. Mom told me a lot about her past, but she never mentioned ever wanting to be a fashion designer. It was kind of sad really. It sounded like my mother had a passion and a dream, and she gave it up. I made a mental note to find a time and place to ask her about it. Maybe it would finally help me figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Sure I was only a freshman in high school, but it was never too early to think about it. In three more years, I’d be going to college too. I didn’t want to start it without knowing what I wanted to do. “Now then, I’ll have Frank bring your cases to this room. Why don’t we go get your sister and have some lunch.” I smiled. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a good, home-cooked meal. Mom was many things, but a chef was not one of them. “That sounds great." Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated. Thanks in advance...EOF |
Wayward
Part Three by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
Author's Note: This is another shorter chapter. Every time I try to write longer ones, I just find the perfect spot to end the chapter. I'm sorry this is slow going and I'm afraid to say, its not getting any faster. Even now, I'm still stuck at only a pages into Ch.5. I know where I want to go with it but just don't have the push to get there. I'm seriously debating just pulling the whole thing but I need some impact. I've been told by a couple of people that this is my best story yet but I'm not sure I can keep it up :(. ----- 3. The blaring of the alarm woke me up. Groaning, I rolled over to take a swat at it, only to find it not in its usual spot. Hey, who moved… Oh right, I wasn’t home anymore. Grumbling, I pushed myself up, ignoring the pink bedspread and flat sheet and stumbled across my bed. It was Mom’s idea to put the alarm far away. She told me this year I was going to get up on time from now on. Only a few days into 2019 and Mom was already making New Year’s resolutions for more. More grumbling got me out of bed and over to the far side of the room where the accursed thing sat on the desk. Shutting it off, I debated stumbling back to bed. It was six am after all, and my mother was a demon for setting the alarm that early, especially on a weekend. She wanted me to get used to getting up early again, though. My vacation waking habits were not to her liking. With the dreaded morning invader silenced, I went about trying to sort out the rest of my morning. My first order of business was taking a shower. I found my desk light, turned it on, then stumbled toward the bedroom door, still half asleep. I was almost out of it when I remembered the room had its own bathroom. Turning around, I stumbled some more, this time over to the door I mistook as another closet yesterday. I nearly tripped over a box on my way, cursing. It was going to take some getting used to, especially navigating this place half awake. I hoped it would be easier with some of these boxes gone. The moving truck arrived late yesterday afternoon. Most of our stuff ended in the barn, but there were a few things that we needed. For me, it was my books. Allie couldn’t live without her computer. She had it set up before the movers even finished. She had taken to vlogging a couple of years ago and had quite the following. Personally, I thought most of her stuff was bitchy, but I guess she had a brain-dead audience. Her last several videos had been about the move and how unhappy she was. There was a lot of sympathy. I’m not sure if people actually cared or if it was because she flashed her mostly male viewer-base her boobs whenever she could. Yep, she was that KIND of vlogger. Mom wasn’t thrilled about it, but at least she was happy that Allie had some kind of hobby. I think my lack of anything bothered Mom a lot. She tried everything to get me more active. It started after we moved to Arizona. At first it was to try and help get over losing Charlie. I think Mom thought if I got active in something and made new friends fast, I’d get over the one I left behind. That’s when Dad tried to insert himself into things too. Whereas Dad’s plan failed time and time again, Mom was making progress. She got me to take up skating again. In Duncan, Charlie and I used to go skating every weekend. They had this indoor ice arena that was really popular with all the local kids. I was happy to find out it was still there and still just as popular. Mom found me a similar one after the move. It worked for a while until she pushed it too far. Mom would never openly admit she missed skating because she didn’t want to prove Grandma right. So instead of pining over what she lost, she tried to substitute it. Allie was never interested. That meant Mom’s only hope was me. Unlike my sister, I showed some real talent for it. I used to love it when I was little, but as I got older and the boys started to realize I wasn’t a girl, things changed. It was never a problem here in Duncan, but in Phoenix, a boy figure skater was blood in the water. I stopped in sixth grade. Middle school was bad enough without the guys knowing you twirled around on the ice. When I stopped skating, the bullying stopped too. I went back to my books and the boys found something else to interest them. By eighth grade, that interest shifted back toward me. Hormones were starting to run high, and those guys who knew I was a boy, began to think they were mistaken, and, well, the insults started to turn into pick-up lines. I figured dodging compliments was better than dodging fists, so I let it happen. After a while, after so many rejections, it became a matter of pride for them. All of them wanted to try and melt the “Ice Queen” as they called me. Ironically, it's actually what they called me when they used to pick on me about figure skating. Strange how that works. It didn’t work out for them. Just as trying to get me focused on something else didn’t work for Mom either. Not even the therapist could break through to me. Therapy was a different thing altogether though. I shook my head, trying to dislodge those thoughts. I was fairly awake now. Wandering into the small bathroom, I found a sink, a toilet, and a shower. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was better than having to share with my sister. Back home, we only had two bathrooms. One was meant for my parents only. The other, I had to share with Allie. Say what you will about my sister, but she was a slob. She made a mess of every room she entered. She left her hair products and make-up lying about, never put her clothes in the hamper, left wet towels lying where she dropped them. She even left her feminine hygiene stuff sitting on the counter. That last bit really angered Mom. I couldn’t remember how many times she would yell at her for it. Allie would just shrug and say, “I keep forgetting Maddie’s not a girl,” which only angered Mom more. I sighed in relief when I looked in the mirror. I smiled a bit too. This place was all mine. I stared at myself in the mirror for a few moments. Most boys my age would be unhappy to see what I saw, but I wasn’t one of them. My face wasn’t manly, but everyone was different. I learned long ago to accept it and move on with my life. Was I envious of manlier men like my father? Sure. Did I want to be like them? Not really. Being like that seemed like a lot of hard work to me. They kept striving to impress people all the time, it must have been exhausting. Being me was easier as far as I was concerned. The only thing I had to deal with on a daily basis was people mistaking my gender. I didn’t go out of my way to hide it and generally ignored it when it happened. Like I said, most of them were harmless. Only a few wouldn’t take no for an answer, and sure, sometimes they pushed it, but they eventually gave up too. Something that a lot of men seem to forget is that women hold a lot of power. Not physically, but if a woman doesn’t want something, she generally wins. Sure there are plenty of men who can’t accept that, but unless they get violent, there isn’t a lot they can do about it. I’m not a woman, but given my circumstances, I felt like a kindred spirit to them in that way. I might be small and girly, but I was in control. I took that control to finish my morning routine. After peeing and brushing my teeth, I got into the shower. Back home, I had to rush it because Allie was always up my ass to shower faster. Here, I could relax and take my time. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my lack of muscles as I scrubbed myself down. Mom bought us all new products, and this body wash was amazing. It made my skin feel so soft and smooth. I showered for twenty minutes, then stepped out, grabbing a new towel. I wrapped it around my waist, then used another towel to take care of my hair. Having long hair might be a pain, but I wasn’t going to cut it. I know it caused me a great deal of unwanted attention, but hoods were an option at Duncan High. I made sure it was fully dry before stepping back into the room. My room. Well, at least for a while anyway. I found some fresh clothes in one of my boxes. I attempted to unpack it last night after the moving truck arrived, but I kept getting sidetracked. Besides, it's not like I had much room for clothes. Most of Mom’s old stuff was still in her drawers. When I told Grandma about it, she apologized. Mom also agreed she’d pack them away and store them in the attic with everything else. Of course mentioning the attic over dinner last night hadn’t sat well with Allie. She got pissed off and tried to convince me to swap rooms with her. Grandma reminded her that she was adamant that the “larger” room was to be hers and this was not open for debate any longer. She also winked at me when she did so. Smirking at the thought of Allie’s temper tantrum, I finished getting dressed. It wasn’t until I got my shoes on that I realized something was wrong with my pants. Sighing, I realized they were Allie’s. This wasn’t the first time. Though my sister was a couple of inches taller, she had short legs. Her body was all torso, which always pissed her off. Because of this reason though, we pretty much could fit into each other’s pants. Well, not that she ever made that mistake, but I did. All the time. It was a pretty easy mistake to do. We both liked straight-legged skinny jeans. Allie could usually tell mine from hers because she only wore designer labels. Me, I generally just wore whatever Mom bought me and left on my bed to put away. Thus why I never even bothered to look at the jeans. I shrugged. I already had my sneakers on, it was too late to change now. Besides, Allie’s jeans were always more comfortable than mine. I left the room, pulling my hair into a ponytail with a new hair thing. At the bottom of the stairs, I made a quick turn down the hall and found my mother and grandmother sitting at the kitchen table. Grandma’s kitchen was large; it had a great big bay window that let in loads of sun that matched well with its bright color scheme. All the appliances were new and shiny and the countertops looked brand-new, probably refinished in the last year or so. Grandma once told me she didn’t like to stand on tradition much. If something started to look out of date, she made sure to update it as quickly as possible. It's the reason why the house had gone through at least two renovations since she and Grandpa moved in here. My Great-Grandmother Ruth---Grandma’s mom---had done a fair share of updating too. “Morning,” I said, trying to sound more chipper than I felt. I was still not fully awake, even after the shower. Mom and Grandma were nursing cups of coffee. “You young things these days, all this internet and video games, it's no wonder you don’t get up before noon.” “Oh, Maddie doesn’t play those games, Mom,” said my mother with a proud smile. Grandma raised an eyebrow. “It’s true,” I said, taking some milk out of the fridge. I poured myself a glass, fixed myself a plate of breakfast and found an empty seat. By habit, I pulled my legs underneath in the chair. Mom playfully flipped my ponytail. “Don’t you usually wear it lower than that?” Lower? I reached up and touched it and shrugged. Apparently in my grogginess, I pulled my hair high on my head. More like a cheerleader than a rock star. I think I might have done it subconsciously. Yesterday, after lunch and getting myself sorted a a bit, I spent some time exploring Mom’s room. I noticed that in a lot of her pictures she wore her hair just like this. I did it without thinking. “Well, I think it’s adorable,” said Grandma. “Just like his Mom.” “Yes, something that every boy likes to hear,” said my mother, not happy with Grandma’s attempt at a compliment. “I don’t mind,” I said quickly, trying to cut off the argument before it started. Thankfully, we were interrupted by some commotion and the Morning Zombie came stumbling into the kitchen. She was groaning and everything. I watched as my sister barely registered us as she stumbled over to the counter and got some food. Allie was never a morning person and this morning was no different. She clearly decided food was more important than showering. Her hair was a mess, she was still wearing her typical shirt and short-shorts bed combo and I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her without makeup. “Morning sweetie,” Grandma said, trying to engage her. Allie said nothing as she dropped into a chair next to me. “It’s no use Mom, Allison isn’t going to respond until she’s awake.” Grandma raised an eyebrow. “She’s not awake now?” “No,” Mom and I said at the same time. It took my sister a bit, but eventually she acknowledged. Strangely, I all but predicted the first words out of her mouth: “Are those my pants?” I shrugged. Mom looked and sighed. “Maddie, why didn’t you say anything?” I shrugged again. “Pants are pants. Does it really matter?” “Yes!” snapped my sister. She grumbled through the rest of our morning meal, glaring at me whenever she could. I did my best to ignore the stares, not just from her either. Mom was giving me a strange one this morning. I knew what she was thinking because we’d been here before. Mom was concerned for me. She wasn’t a bigot, just a concerned parent. She was afraid for me. She was afraid of how people reacted when they saw me dressed the way I wasand looking the way I did. I don’t think Mom really grasped the situation though. The boys didn’t bully me. I tried to explain that to her. When I told her they asked me out all the time instead, I think she got concerned even more. I knew that’s exactly what she was thinking about now. I didn’t look like her son. Especially this morning. “You want me to change?” I finally asked, tired of the staring. It took her a moment to reply. “Only if that’s what you want.” I knew what she was doing. It was shrink talk. As soon as puberty started a year or so ago, Mom thought it might be a good idea for me to see a therapist. She tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, but it was. It wasn’t for me either. Sure, she tried to say it was for me to help me deal with things, but it was really for her benefit. It didn’t help that she sent me there under false pretenses too. She said she was concerned about my lack of social life. She was afraid I was depressed and wanted someone to help me work through my issues. In truth, what she was really afraid of is if I was depressed for other reasons. Mom thought she was being subtle about it but I knew what she really wanted to know. She thought I might be gay and was trying to go about asking in her own kind of way. The therapist caught onto it really quick. We had two sessions but after that all he wanted to do was speak to my mother. It was clear that Mom needed to work through her issues more than I needed to work through mine. It was also clear she needed more sessions. “It’s fine, Mom. Like I said, clothes are just clothes. I’m not trying to make a statement. They were the first pants I picked up. I didn’t notice they were Allie’s until I had my shoes on...” “Well, I for one can barely tell the difference,” interjected Grandma, coming to my defense. “All you kids these days wear your things so tight, it's a wonder that more boys don’t wear their sister’s pants.” I smiled. “Thanks, Grandma.” Mom and Allie sighed together. “Well, you’re washing them after,” snapped my sister. I shrugged. I ended up washing most of her clothes anyway. And so, the tone of the room shifted. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I wanted to say something, but when my mother and sister got like this, there was nothing I could do. Dad could always diffuse the situation; he was good at that kind of thing. He tended to reign in Mom and keep Allie from being such a bitch too. Sure, Dad wasn’t any happier about the way I looked, and sometimes accidentally dressed, but he didn’t make comments about it either. He respected me. He told me so a number of times. It was a strange thing with Dad. Sure, he wanted me to be his son and do father-and-son things with him, but he also told me if I wanted something else, then that was fine too. All that he ultimately cared about was that I was happy. Grandma finally decided to end it. “Well then,” she said, deciding a change of subject might be better. “What do you kids plan on doing today?” I shrugged. “I have some more unpacking to do.” “I was thinking about heading to the mall,” said my sister. Of course she was. “Now that sounds like a fantastic idea,” said Grandma cheerfully. “You don’t want to go too, Madison?” I scoffed. “Not really my thing.” It wasn’t either. “Well, there are other things in town besides the mall you know, like the skating rink.” Skating rink. I didn’t realize they still had one of those. “I don’t skate anymore.” Grandma frowned before shooting a glance at my mother. Mom sighed. “The kids used to bully him...” It took Grandma a moment before she responded again. “Well how about the library then?” I perked up at that. She smiled. “I thought that might grab your interest.” Even Mom got in on it. “That works out well, too. I need to head to the office. It’s right near the library. I can drop Allie off at the mall, then leave Madison at the library, we can meet back up at the mall for lunch later. How does that sound?” Allie scoffed. “Lame actually. I was hoping to take the car.” Mom shook her head. “Sorry sweetie, I need it to run errands all morning.” Grandma tried to help. “You could use your grandfather’s old pick up, that is, if you can drive stick?” I laughed. “She can’t.” Allie glared at me. Dad tried to teach her to drive stick once with his truck, it was a disaster. “Well then, it looks like I’m your chauffeur for the day. Take it or leave it?” Allie scoffed and crossed her arms. “Fine.” “Good,” Mom said with a smile. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re done here.” @@@@@@@@
The drive from the farm to the city took only fifteen minutes or so, especially without any traffic. The old country road we drove on was framed by trees on one side and grazing land on the other. I don’t think I’d ever seen that many cows in one spot before. Well, at least not for a long time. The only thing I didn’t like was the smell, especially since my sister insisted we drive with her window open. The fact that it was forty degrees outside and snowing didn’t bother her in the slightest. Me, I was in the back seat shivering. It was going to take me some time to get used to this weather. “Weren’t you the one complaining about the cold, yesterday?” She ignored me of course. Thankfully the window wasn’t open for long. Carson Galleria wasn’t exactly in Duncan, but just outside of it. According to Uncle Frank, it finished last year. Built on some of the farmland that Charlie’s father acquired. Much like the development we would eventually move into. Mr. Carson had the right idea, I guess. As much as I didn’t care for Uncle Frank, he made a lot of sense. The town did seem to be stuck in the past, and breathing new life back into it wasn’t a bad thing. I think the problem that my grandfather and other landowners had with it, was that Mr. Carson was buying up all the land. Land that had been in their families for centuries. He was bulldozing history and replacing it with large steel and glass structures that looked pretty but took away what made Duncan so great in the first place. I looked out the window at the mall. It was large and looked impressive. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot too. The place was thriving. I could see how my grandfather had been fighting a losing battle. Mom didn’t bother pulling into a parking spot, instead dropping Allie off out front. “Your brother and I will be back here by no later than two, meet us in the food court.” “Yeah, yeah,” said my sister, waving us off. Mom sighed as we watched her rush inside. “Sometimes I wonder about that girl.” “Can I get into the front seat now?” I didn’t wait for Mom to say yes before hopping out of the back and running around to the passenger seat. As soon as I got in, I rolled up the window. Allie was crazy. Mom turned the SUV around and drove us back to the city. It didn’t take very long. Like I mentioned before, Duncan wasn’t much of a city; if you could even call it that. Most anything of importance branched off from a main street which was central to the town. There were a few parks, a couple of churches and a lot of small, self-owned businesses. Most of those were, sadly, closed or going out of business thanks to the mall. It was sad to drive down the street and see all those signs. I tried to piece together this version of Duncan with the one from my memory, and it was hard. The only things that were the same to me were the larger buildings like the town hall, the library, and of course, the ice rink. Even that looked newer. Grandma told us last night it had recently had a remodel. The old building had been torn down, replaced with another large steel and glass structure, the central point of which was the large dome. It was impressive to look at, especially in the center of town. There were a lot of cars there too, which made me think it was probably the big teen hang out spot. A small part of me was happy about that. Another part of me was anxious too. “So you want to go straight to the library or...” Mom asked, seeing where I was looking. I knew what she was trying to do. I’ll admit, I was very tempted. I bit my lip. On one hand, the library was my safe place. It was something Dr. Jones and I talked about in our last session. He wasn’t the least bit concerned that I wasn’t a social person. He said there were a lot of kids my age that had trouble making friends. He also told me to take my time and find a place where I could be safe. I was safe in my books. Back home, it was easy to go to the library and hide. Especially because Phoenix was a big city, definitely a lot bigger than Duncan. Before Dad died though, I made him a promise. I told him I would try to be more social and active. He said he didn’t want me to waste my life hiding away and not trying new things. He wasn’t trying to be cruel when he said it either. It took me a while to understand though. He didn’t want life to pass me by. “I think,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I think I want to walk around for a bit if that’s ok.” Ok, so small steps. I didn’t retreat to the library right away, but I didn’t go running into the rink either. I wanted to work my way up to that. After all, the last time I stepped into an ice rink was before Dad got sick. I’m not sure if I was ready for that right away. Baby steps. “I think that sounds like a really good idea. A lot about this place has changed after all.” Mom pulled the car up to the curb in front of a diner. “You remember where Grandpa’s office is?” “Around the corner, right?” Mom smiled, she moved to ruffle my hair but stopped at the last minute. It was a shame really because I used to like it when Dad did that. An awkward silence quickly followed. Mom and I were in a strange place right now. She was convinced that I was the kind of kid who didn’t want to be seen with his mother in public, and who wanted to avoid public displays of parental affection. She actually had me confused with my sister. I wanted Mom to hug me, I wanted her to tell me she loved me. I wanted to feel like her son again, the one who she used to do all of these things with. Ever since going to Dr. Jones though, Mom stopped being that type of person. I think she blamed herself for what she thought was wrong with me. It was stupid but I had no way to convince her otherwise. She was just going to have to find that out on her own. I gave her a weak smile. “I’ll meet you back here before two, right?” Mom gave me a sad smile of her own. “Sure, honey. Have a good time.” It was clear she wanted to hug me, and I wanted her to. In the end though, I got out of the vehicle without either of us making the attempt. A moment later, she drove away. I sighed. Was it ever going to be the same again? Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF |
Wayward
Part Four by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
Author's Note: I'm not going to lie, I originally wasn't going to post this. My mind has shifted so much in writing this story, I'm still not sure about it. I had a plan, didn't like it. I came up with a new plan, didn't like that one either. This story is like bumbling in the dark for me. Honestly, I'm not sure where its going. There is one more written chapter at this. I'd like to thank my two awesome proof readers/editors for fixing my mess. ----- 4. I wandered aimlessly about the town for about an hour, doing nothing more than window shopping. Well, looking into the windows of what stores were still around. It was a lot worse than I thought. Many of the old places I remembered had “closed” signs on their doors and were empty on the inside. It was a depressing sight. The town really was starting to disappear. Those places that were still there were fighting to stay around. Most of them were restaurants. I’d made a few circuits up and down Main Street. Of the forty or so shop-fronts I passed, nine were still open. Out of those nine, four were places to eat. Of the remaining five, one was a hardware store, another was a barbershop, one sold musical instruments and one was a used clothing shop. The last shop wasn’t really a shop at all, it was a place where people could recycle bottles and cans. All in all, very sad indeed. On my third pass, I decided I needed something to drink. I made my way back to Sally’s Diner. It was one of the few places I remembered going to as a kid. Stepping through the door, a little bell dinged. It was just like I remembered. In fact, the whole place reeked of nearly-forgotten memories. Nothing about it had changed at all. It still had that vintage 1950s vibe with all its vinyl seats and kitsch décor. There was even a jukebox playing rockabilly tunes. On the wall were old black and white photos of the era, framed over each booth. I smiled. Then took a deep sniff of the food, it smelled amazing. It made my mouth water as I walked over to the counter. Slipping onto one of the stools, my feet barely touched the floor. Yep, exactly how I remembered it. A moment later, an older woman in a vintage diner uniform came up to me. “What can I get you, sweetie?” To say I was surprised was an understatement. I remembered Old Sally from when I was a kid. She was an old lady back then. Not to be rude but she had to be ancient by now. The strange thing is, besides a few more lines on her face, she looked pretty much the same. I looked behind her at the painted menu above me. Everything was the same. Though I did notice a new addition. “Can I get a cherry slushie, please?” She smiled and wandered off to the new machine in the corner. I guess even old places like this had to change with the times. While she was doing that, I took a look around more. The place was all but empty, which brought a frown to my face. I guess like most places around here, the mall was taking its devastating toll. Before, when Frank was talking about how Grandpa had been fighting all the new, I never really understood until now. My grandfather was trying to save places like this and keep the town’s traditions alive. Seeing all those empty shops, I think I finally understood. It wasn’t just about the farmland here. It was about preserving a way of life. A way that was slowly being consumed by greed and laziness. Sally finally brought me my slushie. I took a sip; it was good. “Thanks,” I said, pulling out a couple of bills. “Nope, it's on the house,” she said with a smile before wandering off. Wait, what? “Well, we can’t exactly be charging little Maddie DuBois, now can we?” said a gruff and very familiar voice. I snapped around, seeing a large barrel-chested man standing there. I almost squealed in excitement. Even more so that he recognized or even remembered me. “Uncle Billy!” I jumped off the booth and hugged him. Billy was Sally’s husband, the two of them owned and ran this place together. He wasn’t really my uncle but he was Grandpa’s best friend. This diner of theirs was one of the oldest businesses in town. Their 1950s throwback décor actually started out in the 1950s, first owned by Billy’s father. Much of the diner had remained the same; those photos were proof of that. I remember Billy once telling my Dad that he didn’t plan on changing a thing. He was a traditionalist like Grandpa. Dad told me later that it was noble but futile too. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fight time. Personally, I think Billy and Sally were doing a bang-up job at it. For a couple close to 80, they were still keeping things going. I finally let go, still smiling though. Billy held me at arm’s length, smiling too. “Well, let me take a look at you, kid.” I saw the man struggle for some kind of compliment, something other than the usual. In the end, he came up short. “It's ok, Uncle Billy, we all knew I wasn’t going to take after my Dad,” I said with a laugh. He frowned. “I was sorry to hear about your old man. He was a good one". He gave me another hug; it was a lot more comforting than the last. Sally came out of the kitchen and saw the hug. She gave both of us a strange look. “What’s this now?” she asked, eyeing her husband suspiciously. “This is Madison DuBois,” said Billy as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sally gasped, then came rushing around the counter. She pulled me into her own hug, just as comforting as her husband’s. When she finally let go, there were actual tears in her eyes.“I thought there was something awfully familiar about you. You look just like your Mom when she was your age.” “Sally, I’m not sure a boy wants to hear that.” I waved it off. “Trust me, I’ve heard it many times before.” The old couple laughed. “Are you visiting long this time?” asked Sally as she started to wipe down the counter. “You can say that. We moved back. Mom is taking over Grandpa’s practice.” Sally raised an eyebrow; Billy smiled knowingly. “Good for her. I always knew she had a good head on her shoulders. Maybe things will finally start to change around here...” Sally huffed. “You leave that poor woman alone, William Turner.” He raised his hands in defeat. “I wasn’t planning on pestering her with the town’s problems. I can’t say the same for the others though. It won’t be long before everyone else realizes there’s another Mitchell on the case...” Grandpa had been well-loved. There was only one law firm in town and most of the locals were clients. When he passed away last year, there was a hole in the community. His partner did his best to fill said hole, but most people weren’t willing to trust their business with a non-Mitchell. It took Grandpa years to earn their respect and encouragement. According to Grandma, people weren’t too keen that an outsider came in and swept Greta Madison out from under them. Grandma had been a prize to be won, and Grandpa did it. Over time they learned to trust and respect Grandpa, but it wasn’t an easy battle for him. Thankfully, Uncle Billy had been there to help him win those fights. “Is it really that bad?” I asked, waving about. The old couple looked at one another, then Billy let out a heavy sigh. “It's not good, that’s for sure. Jack Carson is an ambitious one, just like his father.” Sally huffed. “It's a shame he wasn’t the one who died in that horrible accident...” “Sally, hush, that’s horrible.” She shrugged. “Just saying. His brother was such a kind man, we lost a good soul. I know for certain he wouldn’t have cut up this town like his damn fool of a brother.” “Hush now, woman!” “You know you’re thinking the same.” Thankfully, the rest of the conversation didn’t stay on dismal things. The couple shifted gears, wanting to know all about our life in Phoenix. I spent the next thirty minutes telling them everything, up to and including Dad’s battle with cancer. I got a couple more hugs. I think Sally was a bit upset when I told them I stopped skating. She told me it was a shame because I had a real talent. I waved it off for what it was. In the end, I finally finished off my slushie and bid them good-bye. Talking to them made me realize that I really did want to take a true trip down memory lane. “Well, I think I want to check the ice rink next.” Sally smiled. “Getting that itch again, huh?” “I made a promise.” She smiled and gave me another hug. “Well, don’t be a stranger, hon.” “I promise I won’t.” “Oh and tell that mother of yours to stop by and see us sometime,” said Uncle Billy as I started for the door. I heard Sally start to scold him as the door shut behind me. I chuckled, then tossed my empty slushie cup into a trash can. @@@@@@@@
Duncan Arena wasn’t the largest building in town, but it was pretty close. Not that that was saying much, especially compared to other places. Walking through the glass entrance, I was hit with nostalgia again. The large forum/lobby area brought back fond memories. Before moving, my family spent a lot of time here. I couldn’t help but think of better times. Dad was still playing hockey and was healthy, Mom was part-time teaching classes, and Allie wasn’t a bitch. I was even happy too. This was, after all, the place where I found my passion for skating. Smiling, I walked past the ticket booth and posters. The same advertisements graced the walls, updated for the times of course. There was no one at the booth right now, and the large double doors leading into the rink itself were wide open. I knew from experience that that meant there was no public skate right now. It also meant there was probably some kind of practice going on. I tried to be quiet as I slipped inside. I sighed as soon as I caught sight of the ice again, and the memories came flooding back. It actually brought tears to my eyes to see it all again. Even more so when I realized there was a team on the ice, running drills. I recognized the blue and silver of their practice uniforms. They must have been from the school. I absently found myself wandering over to a spot I liked to sit and watch as a kid. I might not have been a great hockey player like my Dad, but that didn’t mean I hated the sport. I just didn’t want to play it. The thing is, I knew how to play. It was something hard not to pick up when your father is a professional hockey player. I think that angered Dad more than anything. He spent years trying to show my sister and I how to play his game. We learned and learned well, but when it came time to actually putting what we learned to practice, we both bowed out. My sister didn’t want the hassle, and me, well, I just wasn’t competitive enough. Plus, I didn’t like the idea of putting on skates and all that gear. I saw my father slammed about enough times that it scared me a bit too. Hockey was a rough game, and I wanted no part in it. Watching the team now, I could see they had some talent. They moved on from their drills and were running a scrimmage. The coach had split the team into two, one was blue, one was silver. Each of their practice jerseys had crude numbers on them. I found myself watching Number 34---Dad’s old number. Whoever the kid was, he was really good. He was fast and light on his skates, weaving in and out. He was an impressive puck handler too but not overly greedy. He was the type of player that most coaches would dream of having. The other players on the opposite team were having trouble keeping up too, which made it all the more fun to watch. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here, it's a closed practice.” Shit, I was caught. Snapping around, I sought the source of the interruption. Standing at the end of my bleacher was a tall redhead, about my age. He was wearing a Duncan High Hockey wind blazer and workout pants. He was holding a clipboard in one hand and his other was in a brace. Looks like he broke his wrist, probably the reason he wasn’t on the ice right now. There was something oddly familiar about this kid too. Standing up, I quickly apologized. The last thing I needed was to get banned from the rink. I started to make a mad dash for the opposite end of my bleacher when… “Maddie?” I stopped dead in my tracks. Why did this guy know my name? Snapping around, I saw him start to approach me with a smile. It was as he got closer, that I was finally able to put a name to the familiar face. “Luke?” The guy smiled big. Holy crap, it was Luke. Wow. I hadn’t seen him in years. I never actually thought I’d see him in Duncan of all places either. Luke’s Dad and mine used to play for the same team back in the day. We used to sit next to one another a lot during the games. We weren’t “friends” in the normal sense because we didn’t hang out on a regular basis - he went to a different school - but we were buds I guess. He changed a lot in the last eight years too. The Luke I remember was a little on the pudgy side with a lot of freckles and glasses. The Luke before me was anything but fat, and his glasses were gone. “As I live and breathe, Madison DuBois in the house.” I rolled my eyes. “Luke Malone.” I sat back down, he did the same. “How the hell are you?” “Getting busted apparently?” He laughed. “I think for you, I’ll make an exception.” “Good, I still have dirt on you.” His smile vanished. “That’s not fair.” I shrugged then laughed. “So what brings you to this fine establishment?” “I was going to ask you the same. The last I knew, you guys were still in Buffalo.” He smirked. “Believe it or not, it was Dad.” I was not expecting that. “After Dad retired, your Dad called him out of the blue,” Luke continued. “Told him he had some connections here and he got Pop a job as the coach for the school team.” I turned to the ice and squinted. Wait, the coach was Luke’s Dad. How had I missed that? “I was sorry to hear about your Dad, we wanted to go to the funeral, but money is a bit tight right now.” I shook my head. “It's ok, I’m sure Dad understood.” The funeral was a bit of a madhouse anyway. There were so many people there, I’m sad to say I wouldn’t have noticed Luke even if I tried. Well over a hundred people shook my hand that day. All of them had really good things to say about Dad. I only remember some of it, most of the day was a blur. It was still numbing to think about. Dad was young, barely forty. You just can’t prepare for something like that until it happens. Even four months later... “So what brings you back here?” asked my old friend after a slight silence. “We moved back. Grandma is getting up there in age, and well, Mom wanted a change of scenery.” He nodded. “I can understand that. I’m not sure I’d want...” He trailed off, realizing it was probably a sore subject. It might have only been a couple of months ago, but I was ok talking about it now. Just as well, he changed topics. “You going to try out for the team?” I laughed. “Aren’t you guys in the middle of your season now?” He shrugged and raised his hand. “They’re one man short; they could use the help.” Luke knew I could play. We used to have little matches in the parking lot. A bunch of us Hockey kids participated. I was mediocre at best but Luke was really good if I remembered. He must have been if he was on the team now. “So I don’t suppose your sister is here too?” he asked, looking around. Oh, I forgot about that part. Luke always had the biggest crush on Allie. She never really gave him the time of day though because, well, she was shallow even back then. I also remembered that he was her age. So given the way he looked now, Allie would definitely go for him. Not that I was going to tell him that. It wasn’t my job to play matchmaker. Besides I’m not sure I wanted to saddle Luke with her kind of responsibility. Allie was a handful. Most of her boyfriends in the past had dumped her because she was too demanding and VERY high maintenance. I pitied whatever fool she roped in. I shook my head. “She went to the mall.” He sighed, disappointed. Poor guy. He still had a thing for her. I was about to say something more about it when a whistle blew. I jumped. Turning, I saw the team start to make their way off the ice. One by one, the players started to disappear. Then Luke’s Dad looked our way and frowned. He started walking over, looking grumpy. “This is a closed practice, Miss,” he said directly to me. Luke laughed. “Dad, you serious? You know who this is?” His Dad got closer and his eyes got big. He laughed. “Madison? I’m sorry, son, from back there, you looked like...” I waved him off. “I get it all the time, sir.” “Madison and his family have moved back to town,” interrupted Luke, hoping to change the subject. His Dad looked at me and frowned. “I’m sorry to hear about your Dad, he was a good friend. We tried to make it to the funeral...” “I already apologized for that, Dad.” His Dad laughed. He continued to stare at me then chuckled with a shake of his head. “You look so much like your Mom with that hair, I thought you were one of Luke’s little fan girls. They like to sneak in here from time to time. I'm sorry again for the mistake.” “So, Coach,” I said, hoping to get him distracted. “You’ve got a good team this year.” He smiled. “Would be even better with a DuBois. You interested, son?” I shook my head. “I haven’t played in years.” He frowned. “It's a shame. I don’t suppose your sister...” I laughed. “She’s aggressive enough, but not likely.” “Well, it was worth a shot.” He laughed again. Luke’s Dad looked from him to me and back again. “Well, with this one out of commission, we’re down a man. If you change your mind, let me know.” “Sure thing, sir.” His Dad wandered off, shaking his head. Luke sighed. “Sorry about that, Dad usually has a one-track mind and it's usually ALL about hockey.” I shrugged it off. “I know the feeling.” Luke and I talked a bit more. He asked me about school and if I was going to Central, like there were any other options. He was graduating this year, just like Allie. He asked me a lot more questions about her, and I did my best. I tried to keep the conversation away from her, but it kept going back there. He was still really hung up on her. It was sad really. I’m just glad he didn’t ask me for her number. I didn’t want to deal with that. Thankfully, I was saved by the text. Specifically, it was Mom, wondering where I was. I cursed after I got it. “Something wrong?” he asked. I laughed. “I told Mom I was going to be at the library.” I texted her back quick. AT ARENA. Mom’s reply was not surprising. REALLY? MEET ME OUT FRONT. SURE. I looked at Luke. “Mom’s here to pick me up.” “I’ll walk with you,” he said, “I want to say Hi.” He followed me out of the bleachers and to the front door. We waited outside on a bench for a few minutes before Mom pulled up in the SUV. When she saw Luke, she was confused for a few seconds. When he came walking over with me, Mom smiled big. “Lucas Malone!” “Hey, Mrs. DuBois. Long time no see.” “Wow!” Mom said under her breath, I wasn’t sure if he heard it or not. From his blush, it was clear that he did. I rolled my eyes. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Luke,” I said, getting into the passenger seat. “You too, bud. I’ll see you Monday at school?” “Sure.” Luke waved as we started to pull away. Mom laughed. “Luke sure has changed.” I nodded. “Yeah, I barely recognized him.” Mom was nodding. “So, the arena?” I shrugged. “I got nostalgic. Went to Sally’s then wandered over there.” “Uh huh,” said Mom, and things went quiet for a second. “So what’s with the lipstick?” Lipstick? I dropped the mirror and groaned. My lips were bright red. No wonder Luke and his Dad looked at me funny. Shit. “It's red slushie!” I tried rubbing my lips, but of course it was no use. Damn it! Mom laughed. “It's not funny!” “It's a little funny, honey” I groaned. Luke must think I’m some kind of freak. This is not the way I wanted to start my time here in Duncan. Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF |
Wayward
Part Five by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
Author's Note: It suddenly occurred to me that I posted the last chapter of this story all the way back at the end of July, promising more but never delivering. I dragged my feet for a while about whether or not I was even going to bother posting this chapter. It was finished before I posted Ch.4 actually. The thing is, I didn't write anymore. I'll be honest, I don't plan too either. I know that's a dick thing to do but I've thought long and hard about this story and I know a lot of you really liked it. The truth is, I HATE it. Everything about writing it makes me sick to my stomach, so before it caused me anymore problems, I quit it. I just don't feel its fair knowing that there was another chapter out there that was never published.So here is the latest and probably last chapter of Wayward, enjoy. ----- 5. I took a quick slug of the Jazz I was holding. It was a new energy drink, one of many that had been cropping up. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great either. It was the type of morning jolt of caffeine I needed though. Sitting at the table across from me, Grandma was frowning. Allie gave me a look too, then took a sip from her mug of coffee. Mom was giving us both cross looks. She wasn’t thrilled with our morning drink habits. They were so routine now that there wasn’t much she could do to change them though. Before Dad got sick, things had been a lot different. For one, we never did this whole sit-down-at-a-table for breakfast thing,. Mom was usually up and out the door for work before either Allie or I got up. With Dad in the morning, he made us something light, like a bagel or a pop-tart. Then we usually ate going out the door. Dad never cared what we drank either. When Dad got sick, breakfast changed. Mom started going to work later in the day and tried her hardest to make an effort. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but it was worse for her. She used to work a lot. The only time we saw her before Dad’s cancer was at dinner. Even then, it wasn’t much. Mom would usually order out, and trying to get us to sit together at a table was laughable. It was strange how cancer had destroyed our family but had also brought us together. After the first year, the year that Dad’s health declined for the worse, Mom took a leave of absence from work. When we weren’t in the hospital, Mom did her best to be there for us. It wasn’t easy, but eventually it started to feel semi-normal. After Dad was gone, Mom told us we needed to make some changes. She officially quit her job, then started to make other arrangements. That’s when cousin Maggie called her. “That’s not a very healthy drink,” Grandma finally grumbled. “I don’t like coffee,”. I said, after taking another sip. “That’s not a healthy drink either,” said Grandma, shifting her focus to my sister. Allie shrugged. “It wakes me up and keeps me going. I practically live at Starbucks these days.” Grandma chuckled. “Not here you won’t, the nearest one is twenty miles away.” I saw the color drain from my sister’s face. She looked like she was going to die. Whatever is she going to do? Mom decided to butt in. “Do you both have everything you need?” My sister groaned. “We’re not kids, Mom.” Today was officially our first day back to school. As much as I was dreading it, I was happy too. It would be nice to have some normalcy again. Toward the end of Dad’s cancer battle, the school back home had excused Allie and me. They understood our need to spend what little time we had left with our father. It was the worst month of our lives. When Dad passed, and because it was so close to Winter Break, Mom decided to just keep us home. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was already making plans to move us out here. She felt it might be better for us to make a clean break, and start in a new place. Allie complained for days, but ultimately, it all fell on deaf ears. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Mom’s reasoning for it all. Home wasn’t home without Dad. Mom lost her life partner and best friend. They met in college, were married a year after that, and stayed in Quebec for a year before Allison was born. I came along two years later, and they moved back to the US. According to Mom, Dad was her first true love. You could see how heartbreaking it was for her. “What time did you say school started?” asked Grandma, interrupting my train of thought. I looked up at the wall clocked and cursed. “Madison!” Mom scolded me before seeing said clock and giving her own curse. I raised an eyebrow, which she of course ignored. “We have to go!” “I’m not finished with my coffee!” whined my sister. “We don’t have time.” My sister huffed, leaving her mug on the table. She then stormed out of the kitchen, no doubt to beat me to the front seat. Like I cared. Instead of rushing out myself, I took the time to clear my plate and put it in the sink. Grandma smiled at me and ruffled my hair. Then I went into the living room, grabbed my backpack and followed my sister’s attempt to flee out the front door. Just as I predicted, Allie was already in the front seat. Shrugging, I went to the back. As soon as I had my seatbelt secure, I took out a book. “Do you ever not read?” I scoffed. “It's required.” “Says who?” “Duncan High’s website.” She rolled her eyes, and I smirked. Her loss. The school assigned a book for the students to read over break. In fact, their website had a list of books in their Winter Readers Program, this just happened to be the only one I hadn’t read before. I think it was their attempt to make sure their students were keeping busy over the month or so they had off. I didn’t mind the reading, but Allie did everything she could to avoid work. It's probably why she was only a B student. I not only finished all the work our old school gave us after we were excused, but I was also already caught up on most of everything that I would be studying here in Duncan. I was glad to see that our old school was a bit ahead of them curriculum-wise, so most of it was a review for me. Just as well though, I didn’t want to finish out the rest of my Sophomore year behind my new peers. “I think it's a smart idea,” said Mom, getting into the car. “Of course you would,” scoffed my annoyed sister. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be on par with everyone else.” Mom and Allie argued for a bit, I tried to get lost in my book. Sadly, with their back and forth, I found that impossible. So instead, I took a look at the student handbook. It arrived in a large information packet on Saturday, but because of all the unpacking then and yesterday, I didn’t get a chance to look it over. Thumbing through it now, it all seemed to be pretty straightforward. I skimmed through the bits on Dress Code and Student Conduct; nothing about that was different, except they apparently allowed hats. The part about school security interested me though. Apparently, Duncan High was one of the first high schools in the country to implement facial recognition software as a security measure on top of the security they already had in place, i.e., security cameras and card readers. The place was virtually Fort Knox. I did remember reading something about that on the ride from Phoenix. It was big local news. A bunch of parents made a stink about the whole thing being unconstitutional last year when the software was installed. Personally, I thought it was a great idea. So did the state, because they ruled in favor of the school district. The district felt it was a better way to keep their students safe and secure, not just from domestic terrorism but also from child molesters and other unwanted sorts. All of that information was in a large database. It was all really cool. Most of the town hated the change. They called it another attempt of Carson’s. I didn’t really agree with the man buying up all the farms, but a lot of things he was trying to do for the town would only help it in the long run. “He’s wearing my pants again, you know?” complained my sister. The argument had reached a point where I was being dragged back in. Most of it up to this point I ignored because my sister was one of those people who kept shifting her stance. If she couldn’t win one way, she’d change tactics mid-fight and try it another way. Mom looked in the rear-view. “Maddie?” I looked down at my pants. I couldn’t tell, so I shrugged. Mom sighed. I still couldn’t figure out why they were getting so worked up over it? Maybe they were Allie’s pants, maybe they weren’t? Wearing them wasn’t going to make me less of a man. I wasn’t about to let my sister’s smug look slide though. “So are you mad that I’m wearing your pants, or are you mad that your ass is so flat that a boy can wear said pants?” “Mom!” Allie was whining, which meant I won. “Madison!” I shrugged again and went back to reading the handbook. Oh look, I only had to take P.E. once before I graduated. Win for me! Thankfully, the argument died down after Allie ran out of “fuel” for it. That, and we pulled up to the school a few minutes later. The ride from the farm to the city took about ten minutes, and getting to the school from there was about two. We pulled up in front and Allie stormed out of the car as soon as we came to a stop. Mom sighed, clearly wanting to say more. That was Allie’s way though. She thought she was this great debater because she always “won”, but she only did so because she stormed away before the argument could finish. It was something that might have worked when we were kids, but it was starting to get old and childish now. Not that either Mom or I said anything to her; there was no point. Mom turned to me. “You have everything?” I opened my pack and took a look before returning the handbook. “I think so,” I said, zipping it up. If I didn’t, they wouldn’t say anything. It was the first day back from break after all. We said our goodbyes, still no hug. “I can pick you up after school?” I shook my head. “Luke said he’d drop me off.” He texted me last night. I think he was hoping to earn some brownie points with Allie. Fat chance that was ever happening. It was nice that he was at least including me though. I left the vehicle after that. Mom pulled away with a tiny wave before I turned and looked at the large building before me. Duncan Central was actually three schools in one. The two story building in front of me was mainly for the high school and middle school. The elementary school was the smaller, one-story building next down, a chain link separating the two campuses. They were all the same sandy-colored brick, glass, and concrete. I read on the internet last night that the high school had some recent remodeling last summer. An anonymous donation allowed them to upgrade their auditorium, add some new music rooms, and get one of those digital signs out front. Frankly, all of it was new to me. Leaving the roadside, I followed the path up to the front of the school. A balding man in a sharp charcoal suit stood at the doors, greeting everyone who entered. He smiled at each of the students as they passed by. When I got close, he gave me a look as if he’d never seen me before. That look was quickly followed by some kind of recognition. “Madison DuBois, I presume?” Way to be in the know. “That’s right,” I said, surprised this man could tell I was new. He chuckled. “I make it my business to know everyone in this school, new and old. I’m Mr. Chambers, Vice Principal here.” He held out a hand, I suspect for me to shake. My father once told me it was important to make a good first impression. A lot of that came down to a strong handshake. Unfortunately for me, I never had one of those. I did my best though. If Mr. Chambers noticed or even cared after I was done shaking, he didn’t say a thing. “Generally I would lead you to the office myself, but it's my job to meet and greet.” I waved it off. “It's ok, sir.” “Well, through these doors and straight down this main hall, on the right; you can’t miss it.” “Thank you, sir,”I said, and excused myself and went inside. The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the building was the large cartoon armadillo painted on the wall directly in front of me. It looked angry, waving a flag with the school colors of red and silver. I took my time on some research last night. I found the school newspaper quick enough, it was called The Armadillo Times. While there were a lot of fluff pieces in there, most of it was devoted to sports. Made a certain bit of sense. Their Winter season was filled with some good teams. The hockey team, for instance. From what I could tell, Luke was one of their star players before his injury. They also had decent indoor soccer teams and their basketball team made the playoffs last year. Wandering away from the giant armored warrior on the wall, I made my way toward my destination. I passed rows of lockers, a couple of doors, and lots of kids my own age - most of whom ignored me. A couple looked my way, and one boy in particular looked longer than I wanted. I was used to that though. I was just hoping I’d get myself settled here a bit more before all of that started. Trying to keep my head down, I passed quickly into the main office. “Can I help you, sweetie?” asked the little old lady behind the counter. I smiled at her. “I’m new here. Madison DuBois, Mr. Chambers told me to come here.” The old woman smiled and slowly typed away at the computer to her right. It took longer than I would have liked; she kept stopping and squinting at the screen. Finally, I heard the printer behind her. She slowly got out of her chair and retrieved the printouts, handing them to me gently. “Usually we ask one of our Student Helpers to show new students around, but students vote on them at the beginning of the new semester, and that hasn’t happened yet.” I smiled and nodded. “It’s ok. I have a map.” I downloaded it onto my phone last night. For such a small school and district, they were surprisingly pretty tech-savvy with this kind of thing. They had an app and everything. I couldn’t help but wonder if some of that remodeling money went into other projects too. I pulled out my phone, holding it in one hand and my schedule in the other. The schedule was pretty straigh=forward, no surprises. I got to sign up for classes last week. I was happy to see that I was able to get into every one that I wanted. All the core subjects were there, including lunch and study hall. There were even a couple of electives. The only one from that list I really wanted was Computers. I wasn’t that keen on them, but Mom said it was a smart idea to take a basic computer class so I would know what I was doing later in life. The school offered a wide variety of electives, and because I wasn’t taking PE this year, I was allowed three in total. The last two I left it up to the school to decide. Hmmm. Aerobics and Dance. Interesting choices. I suppose I could have turned around and complained. After all, most boys my age would HATE those types of classes. The thing was, I was always a limber person. Maybe that’s why I liked ice skating so much. I was always flexible, even now. I didn’t skate anymore, but that didn’t mean I failed to keep up with exercising. Being in both aerobics and dance might be just what I needed. Though I couldn’t help but wonder if they put me in those classes because they thought I was a girl? Sighing, I took a step into the hall. With my head down, I didn’t see where I was going and walked right into… “Whoa, Maddie, dude.” Luke apparently. What were the odds? “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” I said, looking up and waving my phone at him. He laughed. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a typical teenage girl...” I ignored the comment. “You’ve been here a while, right?” “Couple of years.” “You know where Mr. Clark’s classroom is?” I asked, waving my schedule toward his face. Luke rolled his eyes and took it from me. He quickly scanned it then gave me a strange look. “Dude, you pick these electives?” “The school did,” I said with a shrug. “These are chick classes.” So I was right. “You should go back there and get them to change these...” “I don’t mind.” We were walking down the hall side by side now, doing our best to not get smushed by the growing crowd. Well, I was doing my best, most of the people seemed to be avoiding him. One of the perks of being short, small, and insignificant I guess. I was getting a lot of stares though. I didn’t have to guess what they were about either. It was like this every first day of school for me. When we first moved from Duncan, my first day at my new school, a lot of kids whispered about the “new girl”. It took them a week to stop staring and even longer for me to convince them I wasn’t a girl. By the time I accomplished that task, it was summer. Then the same thing happened the next year and every year after. Even people who knew I was a boy forgot as soon as they saw me again. It was frustrating at first, but I grew to ignore it. After all, I was more or less happy with who I was. Why should I let what others think bother me? “This is Clark’s room. Homeroom and first period.” I was lost in thought as we were walking, barely noticing he stopped at all. There was no one in the classroom when I looked inside. It was a fairly average school room, there was one large desk up front and several student desks in rows. At first, I thought the room was empty, but I suddenly noticed a girl sitting in the far back corner, her head down, and her nose in a book. I couldn’t really get a good look at her, but she had dark hair and black framed glasses. I couldn’t help but smile. She seemed like the type of person I might be friends with. “Most people don’t file into the first class of the day until right before the bell rings,” Luke explained as he shut the door, clearly ignoring the girl in there. “What about her?” I asked, gesturing toward the closed door. He shrugged. “C’mon, most of the normal people hang out in the Quad before classes.” He gently steered me away from the classroom and back down the hall. I couldn’t help but look back at the classroom as we moved further and further away. Somehow I felt I belonged there too. @@@@@@@@
“Welcome to where the Cool Kids hang out.” Luke opened his arms wide, I’m not sure if he expected me to gasp or clap or what. Instead, I looked past his outstretched arms to “The Quad”. It turned out to be nothing more than the large courtyard that separated the high school and the elementary school. There was a large, circular walkway with benches centered around a statue with some man in a suit I probably should have known something about. I didn’t. Beyond the circle and the fountain were picnic tables shaded under large maple trees. Once again, I’m not sure how he expected me to react, but I did my best to pretend. “Not bad.” I lied. He nudged my shoulder. “Hey, it may not be big city swanky school life like you’re used to, but it's the coolest thing we got.” I wonder who told him about my school life before? I decided to put a pin in it for later. Instead, I allowed him to lead me over to a group of kids milling by a row of hedges. They were all wearing letterman jackets like him so I assumed they must be the jock crowd. Luke’s friends. It was clear what he was trying to do. I appreciated the effort, but I wasn’t really interested in being friends with people like that. Nothing against Luke, he was a cool guy. Me and jocks never mixed well. Before, it was because they used to bully me about looking like a “fag”, and then it was because they kept trying hitting on me because they thought I was a girl. Whenever I was able to convince one of them otherwise, there was a lot of laughing and strange looks. At least they never openly bullied me again. “Guys,” said Luke, getting the attention of his friends who were laughing about something. “This is Madison, he’s an old childhood friend of mine. Our Dads used to play together back in the day.” There was a round of introductions but I was never going to remember all their names. Luke found us a spot and as soon as my butt was on the pavement, I was bombarded with questions. They started innocent enough, but it quickly moved into a familiar territory. It didn’t matter that Luke introduced me as a “male” friend, using the proper pronouns. It NEVER worked. As soon as they started, it was impossible to convince them otherwise. I thought maybe I could avoid it this time, but it was already starting back up again and fast. It didn’t help that Luke thought I was cool and vouched for me. I became the center of attention instantly. Thankfully, I was saved by the bell. As soon as it went off, everyone got up at once and started rushing toward the doors. I did my best to keep up, but I was nearly bowled over. Seeing me struggle, Luke made sure to help me into the hall. We parted shortly after. I promised him I’d meet him again at lunch. I made my way quickly back toward Mr. Clarke’s classroom, getting inside just before the bell. I found an empty seat near the door, in the front row. A moment later, a large, balding man in a sweater stomped into the room. I say stomped because there was no other way to truly describe his gait. He wasn’t angry; he had a nice smile, but he was large, not just in girth either. He had to be well over six feet. “Good morning, class,” he said joyfully. “How was everyone’s break?” There was a lot of grumbling. The man looked like he wanted to say more about it but didn’t. Instead, he got right to business. This was technically Math class, but because it was the first class of the day, it also served as homeroom. Mr. Clarke started taking attendance. I only half paid attention because there were probably no names I was going to recognize. It was years ago when I was last here, and most of the kids I went to school with were people I wouldn’t remember even if they told me who they were. Then… “Charlie Carson.” Wait, what. I snapped around, I couldn’t help. “Here.” I found the source of the voice and my heart skipped a beat. There was a boy in the back row, wearing one of those jackets like Luke. He had dirty blonde hair and a bored expression. I squinted a bit. He was older, but there was no mistaking it, this was my friend. Charlie. Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF |
Wayward
Part Six by: Enemyoffun
Madison used to have this great friend Charlie, they did everything together. Then Madison moved away. Now returning home, Madison seeks him out. The only drawback, Charlie didn't know Madison was a boy.
Madison didn't know Charlie had a secret too.
Author's Note:I'm a liar. I didn't originally plan on finishing this story. I said so in my last chapter. I got to thinking about it the other day and quite a few people asked. So I sat down and just started writing. This is ultimately what came from that. The core idea of the story is still there but I plan on changing my original idea as well. Sorry its so short but I felt this was the best place to stop it :D. ----- 6. Charlie. I spent the whole class thinking about him, distracting me from the lesson at hand. I couldn’t even tell you what anything was about. For so long I wondered about this moment. What I might say if we ever met again. What he might say. Would he even remember me? Would I even have the courage to talk to him? I know it was such a silly and stupid thing, but at one time, he meant everything to me. I know it was only a short period of time that the two of us were friends, but it had a lasting effect. He was the first and only person who didn’t care what I looked like and just wanted to be my friend, no strings attached. He was also the first person who made me realize it was ok to be whoever I wanted to be. When the bell finally rang, I got up the courage to approach him. The rest of my classmates were trying to push toward the door. Me, I was moving toward the back of the room. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I walked up to his desk. He was busy putting away his things. I took a deep breath and… “Hey.” It was a simple greeting, but it got across so much. He looked up at me. At first, he stared. He stared for a long time. For what seemed like an eternity he stared. Then he smiled. A weird feeling washed over me just then. I didn’t realize it until that moment, but I missed that smile. I longed for that smile. This was the smile of my best friend in the whole world. A smile that used to greet me every morning. A smile that I dreamed about every night. Yet now there was something different about it too. It was an older smile, dare I say a more confident smile. There was something else about it too, something that I couldn’t quite place. “Hey yourself,” he said, finishing putting his stuff away and standing up. “I’m Charlie. You’re new, right?” I almost let out a sigh. So he didn’t recognize me. Well of course he didn’t, it was years ago. “Yes and no,” I said, absently brushing a stray bit of hair behind my ear. “I used to live here before...” “No kidding,” he said, and I found myself walking beside him. “Yeah,” I said, nervous. “We used to be friends...” There, I said it. The ball was now in his court. Would it finally click or… “No kidding? Well shit, now I feel like an idiot that I don’t remember.” There it was. He didn’t remember. Damn. “Well that’s ok,” I said, defeated. “It was a long time ago.” I felt like someone punched me in the gut. All this time I was wondering how he might react if we met again, and the sad truth is, he didn’t know me. I’m not going to lie, it hurt. A lot. Someone who meant so much to me and he forgot me so easily. I was now an ant walking beside an elephant. The height difference was not lost on me. Puberty had been VERY kind to him. Much like how much Luke had changed since we were kids, Charlie was a man now. He had to be close to a foot taller than me, which was scary. Walking beside him, I could actually feel the draft his body was making. I almost shivered. Instead, I hid it behind adjusting my bag straps. “So did you know me from basketball or…?” Basketball. Sure, of course he played basketball. He was tall enough. I shook my head. “We just hung out. It was only one summer, before I moved away. We moved back. We’re living with my grandmother. It's...” I’m rambling and he’s staring. We fell into an awkward silence after that. I continued to walk next to him down the crowded hall. People were staring. I barely noticed. Finally we stopped at another classroom. “This is my stop,” he said with a half smile. I nodded. “Sure.” “Well, it was nice not remembering you,” he said with a chuckle then walked into the room. There it was, my great reunion with Charlie. It was a total bust. I felt like such a spaz. I stood by for a long time, watching the empty doorway of his classroom. I saw him sit in the back, turn and start talking to the girl next to him. They laughed at some shared joke, and I was forgotten. Sighing, I turned and headed down the hall. I was pretty bummed. I know it was a long time ago, but I was certain he would remember me if I reminded him. It was sad to think that he made more of an impact on me than I did him. Especially because we were so close. I suppose it explained why he cut contact with me. The thought of it stung pretty hard. I think I was still numb. Thankfully, the bell ringing broke me from my paralysis. Shit. I ran through the hall, looking for my next class. Thankfully for me, it was just around the corner. When I stumbled into the room, a few minutes late, all eyes were on me. I was so embarrassed. I quickly apologized before finding the nearest seat. As soon as I sat, I noticed one girl in particular staring at me. I couldn’t help but stare a bit myself. Her hair was cut short, I think they called it a pixie cut. It was semi-long in the front, and shaved on one side. That’s not what kept me staring though. Her hair was at least three different colors: mostly blue, but she had dark purple fringe and the buzzed portion was blonde maybe. She gave me a slight smile and a nod. Like she recognized me. I was really confused. As soon as class officially started, I was too focused to stare anymore. It wasn’t until class ended that… “Hey,” said the girl as she stood at my desk. I was still as confused as ever. “Hey yourself,” I said, trying to be friendly. “You’re Madison, right?” I nodded, not sure how this girl knew my name. I looked her up and down. I definitely didn’t recognize her from my early days here. Which of course wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. I didn’t really know many kids back then, besides Charlie. Even that was only for a summer. The kids at school when I was younger all but ignored me. This girl definitely didn’t look like the type I would have hung out with back then. She wore skinny jeans with distressed knees, her Converses were scuffed and dirty and there were band-aids on a couple of her fingers. The thing that distanced her from me even more was her sweatshirt. It bore the school mascot on the front of it. She was a jock. I suppose that explained the fingers. “Luke introduced you this morning,” she said, finally helping me with my blank stare. Wait, yeah, she was there. She was in the back, sitting quietly with a book. The reason I didn’t recognize her was because she was wearing the hood of her hoodie up. Looking closer at her sweatshirt, I realized I’d actually met her way before that. There was a tiny number 34 on her left breast side. The kid from the rink. He was actually a she. “I’m Trix, by the way, well Beatrix, but that name makes me sound like I’m from the 1600s or something.” She laughed. I found myself walking out of the room with her. “I guess you can call me Maddie then.” I’m not sure why I told her that. I promised myself last night that I was going to introduce myself to new people as “Mark”. “You were at the rink yesterday, right?” “Guilty as charged.” She giggled. It was weird because she didn’t look like the type to giggle. “Luke said you’re really good?” I shrugged. “Out of practice, I’m afraid. I stopped caring about hockey a long time ago.” “Bummer, with Luke out, we could really use someone else.” She tried to convince me for about a minute more, but when she realized that she was failing, she switched gears to talk about the team itself. She kept the conversation going until our next class. Apparently we shared this one too. Our discussion ended as soon as the bell rang to start and picked up right after the bell rang to end. Trix liked to talk, which was fine by me because I was a quiet person. “You have lunch next, right?” We were standing in a part of the hallway that opened up into a foyer. I quickly pulled out my schedule and confirmed her question with a “Yep”. She kept the conversation going the whole walk to the cafeteria and continued to keep it going while we were in the lunch line. The food looked edible, but that wasn’t saying much. I smiled and politely thanked the woman, who replied with a grunt. Hey, you can’t please everyone. Walking from the line into the main cafeteria proper, I was surprised it was so big and that there were so many kids there. My old school had lunch in shifts. According to Trix, every grade ate at the same time. What surprised me even more though was that this place had two floors. “The popular kids sit up there,” she said, pointing to the second floor. “Us plebs are down here.” We started meandering our way through the throngs of scattered tables and people. I looked up toward the second floor. I quickly caught sight of my sister, no big surprise there. But I saw Luke too. Then I saw Charlie. Of course he was one of the popular ones. I stared at him for a few moments, until Trix waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Maddie, you still there?” I blinked. “Yeah sorry, I know him...” Trix looked up and scoffed. “Charlie Carson, who doesn’t?” The way she said his name, there was a lot of disdain. That definitely didn’t sound like the Charlie I once knew. “He was my friend,” I said, trying to explain. “Well, your friend is one of the most popular guys in school. He’s a bit of a man about campus, and trust me, he doesn’t let anyone forget it.” That definitely didn’t sound like the Charlie I knew. I continued to stare up at Charlie for a few more seconds. He was sitting with a group of overly pretty people. There were several girls flocked around him. They were all laughing. I sighed. I guess he really was a different person? “C’mon,” said Trix, nudging me with her shoulder. “I usually sit over here.” She led me over to a table in one of the corners, near a large window. As I sat down, I noticed it looked out toward what I’m guessing was a soccer field. I stared out the window for about a minute before gathering my thoughts. I was curious about Charlie still. I couldn’t help myself. He’d been this enigma to me for years. I couldn’t help but always wonder why he stopped talking to me. Yet now that I was so close to him and the answers, I never felt farther away. “Do you know Charlie well…?” She shrugged, taking a bit of her sandwich. “As well as anyone else I suppose,” she said while she chewed. “He’s a basketball jock, I’m a hockey jock. We should run in the same circles, but it's...well...complicated.” I was about to ask her how when we were interrupted by two trays slapping down on the table. The sound made me jump. Looking up, I noticed we were no longer alone. There was a boy and a girl our age attached to those trays. Their curly dark hair and tan complexions told me they were of Hispanic origin. The boy smiled at the sight of me, sizing me up with those green eyes of his. The girl looked shy and didn’t make eye contact with me. “Fresh meat!” said the boy enthusiastically. Here we go. “Not interested, Carlos,” groaned Trix, clearly used to his antics. “Hey, you don’t know that!” said the boy, turning his full attention to me. “I’m Carlos, and this wallflower next to me is my twin, Elena. If I’m not mistaken, you’re Madison, right?” I ignored him completely. “Nice to meet you., I said, looking directly at his sister. She finally looked up so our eyes met. They were green like her brother’s. Wow, she was really cute. Trix smirked. “See, what did I tell ya.” If Carlos was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pushed on without even blinking. “So, you’re new right? Where ya from? What do you think of our little dust ball of a town? You bored with it yet? You have any plans for this weekend by chance?” Wow, he was fast and incorrigible . I decided to answer all his questions in one go. “No, I’m not new. I’m from Phoenix but not originally, I grew up here actually. My family moved when I was eight and we just moved back.” “Why would you ever do that?” “My Dad died.” “Open mouth, insert foot,” snapped Trix. “Ouch, sorry,” said Carlos and probably meant it. I sighed. “Thanks. It wasn’t easy, but I’m better now.” “How does it feel to be back?” asked his sister, surprising me by how sultry her voice sounded. “Weird. I had a friend I was hoping to reconnect with but he turned into someone I don’t recognize anymore.” “Boy friend?” “He’s a boy, yes, but we were too young to be anything other than friends.” Trix laughed. “It's Charlie, Carlos.” “Shit.” The two girls laughed. Carlos was visibly crushed but only for a few seconds. “You’re not together though, you’re just friends,” he licked his lips. “So that means...” I sighed and quickly interrupted him. “Sorry, I’m not interested in guys.” Elena seemed surprised, Trix looked intrigued. “Damn, why is it always the cute ones...” I inwardly cursed. There it was again. Looking at the three of them, it was clear they thought I was a girl too. I suspected Carlos thought it as soon as he saw me. Most guys did. I was surprised by Trix though. She made no indication she thought I was a girl. Then again, she never let on she thought I was a boy either. I didn’t want to keep up the charade though, I wanted to be honest. If that meant I was about to lose three potential friends, then so be it… I chuckled. “I don’t like girls because I’m a lesbian, I like girls because I’m a boy.” You could almost hear a pin drop. All three of them stared. Carlos looked dumbstruck. Elena blinked a few times then smiled. Trix looked disappointed. It took a few seconds before anyone said anything until: “No shit.” Trix. I sighed. “Sorry...” I started to get up, fighting back tears. She was fast. She stood and gently grabbed my wrists. She shook her head. “We’re not mad, just surprised. You look so much like a girl, it's...” I nodded. “I know. I can’t help it.” I was tearing up, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, hoping they didn’t notice. None of them said anything. “So, are you trans...?” asked Elena. The T question. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t heard that more than once too. “Nope, just girly. Been like this forever. No idea why. We had plans to look into it and then Dad got sick. Suddenly none of us found it important.”. We never really brought it up as a family again. I wanted answers though. I was just waiting for the right time to broach the subject with Mom again. After all, something like this wasn’t normal. There had to be some kind of answer, and I was hoping we could figure it out soon. I was getting really tired of all the confusion and anger. “So you’re a dude?” asked Carlos slowly, finally finding his voice again. It was clear by the look on his face he was a bit disgusted because only seconds ago, he'd been openly flirting with me. “Yep, sorry.” He was quiet again, squinted his eyes and blurted out: “You know you’re wearing chick jeans, right?” Trix and Elena smacked him from both sides. I couldn’t help but laugh. The three of them started laughing too. I sat back down, followed by Trix. It was the icebreaker we needed. From there, Trix and Carlos took turns asking me questions. They were curious, and I wasn’t expecting that. Most people either thought I was lying or they wanted nothing to do with me. I’d never met anyone who actually still wanted to be my friend after the truth came out. It was a new experience for me. The whole time they asked questions, I couldn’t help but notice that Elena was quiet. Well, she’d only uttered a few words since meeting me, but she spent the whole time they talked pretending to stare at me without me noticing. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty astute when it came to people watching me. It was hard not to be. The thing is, there was no malice in her stares. It was almost as if she was trying to decide if I was telling the truth or not. Again, she wasn’t the first person to think this. She was the first one that didn’t ask questions about it though. It was refreshing. The bell finally rang, saving me from the “mini-interview”. “So, any more questions?” I asked, finally glad to be free of it all. I was standing up, leaving the table with my tray. The others fell in line with me. “Just one,” said Carlos with a nervous laugh. “You never said if you had plans this weekend or not?” Trix and Elena smacked him again. I laughed. I came to this school hoping to reconnect with Charlie but never imagined making other friends in the process. It's funny how things worked out. Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF |
Quinn's heart raced as he scaled higher, the rubber soles of his sneakers squeaking against the faux rock surface. He had always felt a strange sense of belonging up here, where the world fell away and only the challenge remained. But today, the excitement was tainted with a heavy secret, one that had been growing inside him like a seedling reaching for the light.
"You got this, Quinn!" encouraged Alex, his best friend since kindergarten. Alex had noticed the changes in Quinn over the past year—his voice getting softer, his skin smoothing out—but didn't know the whole truth. Quinn took a deep breath and pushed off, reaching for the next grip. He wished he could tell Alex everything, but the fear of losing his friendship was too great.
The gym door swung open, and in strode Mr. Harris, their burly Scoutmaster. His eyes widened when he saw Quinn climbing, his face a mix of surprise and admiration. "Impressive, Harper," he bellowed. "Looks like you're more than ready for the Wilderness Scout Trip next week."
The Wilderness Scouts weren't your typical boy scouts. They didn't spend their weekends tying knots or memorizing the ingredients to s'mores. Their focus was on the raw, unfiltered art of survival. For three days, they'd be thrown into the depths of the forest, no parents, no phones, and certainly no hand-holds. The aim was clear: to strip away the comforts of the modern world and reveal the true nature of each boy. It was a rite of passage, a chance to prove themselves, and to Quinn, a chance to escape his secret a little longer.
There was always a catch to it.
"We'll make men out of your scrawny wimps" chortled Mr. Harris. "Quinn will lead the charge. Right Quinn?"
Quinn chuckled but pretended he didn't hear.
The irony wasn't lost on him in the least. Here Mr. Harris was going on about whipping them into shape to be manly men and Quinn was the farthest from. He'd been on hormone blockers for a year now. His puberty was stunted and he definitely wasn't becoming a man.
The climb grew more intense, and sweat beaded on Quinn's forehead, trickling down his neck. His thoughts raced faster than his heart. He'd been hiding his secret from everyone—his friends, his troop, his teachers. His parents had found out a year ago, but they had agreed to keep it between them until he was ready to tell the world. But the Wilderness Scout Trip was approaching, and the pressure of being in such close quarters with the other boys was giving him anxiety.
As he reached the top, the cheers of his friends echoed through the gym. He couldn't ignore the knot in his stomach that tightened with each step back down to the floor. Tonight, at the pre-trip meeting, his parents were going to tell everyone. They had decided it was best to get it out in the open, to avoid any misunderstandings or conflicts during their three-day adventure. Quinn had hoped they'd wait a bit longer, but his mother's insistent voice of reason the night before had convinced him it was time.
At the bottom of the rock wall, Alex was there to slap him on the back. "That was epic, Quinn! You're gonna crush it over the next three days." The camaraderie was palpable, but Quinn couldn't shake the dread that clung to him like a second skin. He forced a smile, trying to push aside the fear of his friends' reactions. Would they still look at him the same way? Would they understand?
Quinn and Alex had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was close with the other guys but the bond between him and Alex was like brotherhood. He feared Alex wouldn't understand and abandon him. He could handle losing his friendship with the other guy but not with Alex.
"Hey, Quinn, you okay?" Alex looked at him with genuine concern.
Quinn nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Yeah, I'm just... nervous about the trip, you know?"
"No need to be nervous," said Charlie as he came lumbering over. "You're Super Scout."
The nickname hung in the air, a reminder of Quinn's over-compensation. His need to be seen as the best, the strongest, the bravest was all a facade to hide his true self. Ever since he could remember, he felt like a girl trapped in a boy's body. The only way to deal with it was to outshine everyone else in every conceivable way. It had earned him respect and admiration, sure, but at what cost? He'd pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion trying to be the epitome of masculinity, all to keep his secret safe.
As the boys packed up their gear, the usual banter began to fill the gym. Jake, the ringleader of the group, started in with his latest crush. "Did you guys see the new girl in math class? She's totally into me," he bragged, flexing his non-existent biceps.
Kurt and Ben, the loyal sidekicks, snickered and added their own exaggerated stories of romantic conquests. The topic of girls was a favorite among the group, a way to prove their burgeoning manhood. Quinn's heart sank a little lower with every snort and elbow nudge. He felt like an alien in a conversation that was so deeply ingrained in their identities.
The banter grew more intense as they left the gym, their laughter echoing through the empty hallways. It was the kind of noise that could only come from a group of teenage boys who hadn't yet learned the weight of the world. Quinn lagged behind, the heaviness of his secret weighing on his shoulders. Alex noticed and fell back to walk beside him.
"Ignore them," he said, gently squeezing his friend's shoulder.
Quinn nodded again but the words didn't offer much comfort. The weight of the secret felt like a boulder, too heavy to shrug off with a simple nod.
When he finally stepped through the front door of his home, the comforting scent of his mother's cooking wafted through the hallways. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. His heart was racing like it was still climbing the rock wall. He knew the conversation tonight wasn't going to be easy, but he couldn't ignore it. It was like a storm cloud that had been hovering over him for months, and it was finally about to break.
Quinn's room was a sanctuary of sorts, plastered with posters of adventurous landscapes and filled with the trappings of his Wilderness Scout life: a tent, a sleeping bag, and a collection of camping gear that could rival a small outdoors store. He threw his backpack onto the bed and headed straight to his desk. The second bag, his "survival" bag, lay half-packed in the corner. It was his personal project, filled with items that went beyond the typical scouting checklist—things he hoped would never be necessary, like a small sewing kit for emergency repairs or a compass that could double as a mirror. He'd been meticulously preparing it since he'd first heard about the trip, each item chosen with care and purpose. It was his way of controlling the uncontrollable.
He sat down heavily in his chair, his eyes landing on a framed photo of him, Alex, and the rest of the troop from their last camping trip. They were all smiles and dirt, not a care in the world. But Quinn knew that tonight, everything could change. He couldn't shake the feeling that this trip was going to be different, that the very fabric of his world was about to shift. It was a mix of excitement and terror, a cocktail of emotions that left his stomach in knots.
A couple of hours later, he and his parents were in the car on the way to Mr. Harris' for the meeting.
The living room of Mr. Harris' house was a sea of green and brown—the colors of the Wilderness Scout uniforms—parents and scouts alike sitting in a circle, the air thick with anticipation. The room went quiet as Quinn and his parents entered. The Scoutmaster cleared his throat and began the meeting with a nod to Quinn. His mother's eyes searched his, full of love and reassurance, as his father took a deep breath and started to speak.
Mr. Harper's voice was steady, yet Quinn could hear the hint of pride and fear. "As some of you may know, Quinn has been going through something quite personal over the past year. Quinn is transgender, and we have been working with doctors to make sure he's as comfortable as possible." He paused, allowing the words to settle like dust after an explosion. Quinn's heart hammered in his chest, his palms sweaty. He'd known this moment was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.
The room was a vacuum of silence. The only sounds were the faint ticking of the clock and the rustling of parents shifting in their seats, uncomfortable with the revelation. Quinn's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of understanding, but all he found was confusion and surprise. Some parents exchanged glances, others studied their hands, and a few stared openly, their expressions a mix of disbelief and curiosity. Mr. Harris' face remained unreadable, his eyes locked onto Quinn, as if trying to discern the truth of the words he had just heard.
One by one, the adults began to murmur, their voices tentative and awkward. They offered words of support, their smiles forced and eyes evasive. It was clear that not everyone was ready for this revelation. Quinn's heart sank further with each pat on the back and awkward clap on the shoulder. He knew the truth behind their faux encouragement. They were worried about their own sons, about how this would affect the dynamics of the troop, about the unknown.
But amidst the murmurs, there was one voice that remained silent—Jake's. His eyes, usually filled with mischief and bravado, were cold and calculating. Quinn had seen that look before, in the schoolyard when someone didn't fit in, when someone was different. It was a look that promised trouble. Quinn's stomach clenched, and he wished the floor would swallow him whole.
The meeting dragged on, but Quinn barely heard the instructions for the trip. His mind was racing, replaying every conversation he'd had with Jake, trying to find a clue to what he might be thinking. His parents' faces were a mask of stoic support, but he could see the hate in their eyes too.
"It's going to be fine," whispered Alex as the room cleared out. His grip was firm and reassuring, a beacon in the storm of confusion. "They just need time to process."
Quinn nodded, his eyes still glued to the floor. "I know." But he didn't believe it. The silence from Jake was deafening.
Alex's hand squeezed tighter, a silent promise of unwavering support. It was a comfort that Quinn clung to like a lifeline. "Look, if anyone gives you crap, I've got your back," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
The next day, true to his word, Alex was the only one who reached out. The other guys had gone silent, their group chat a graveyard of unread messages and unanswered calls. It was like Quinn had been erased from their lives overnight. He felt like an outcast, a ghost haunting the halls of his own school. His heart ached with the weight of their silence, but he knew he had to keep moving forward. So, he swallowed his pride and focused on the one person who hadn't abandoned him.
They spent the day gaming in Alex's basement, the familiar glow of the computer screens washing over them. The digital battles they waged on their games were a stark contrast to the very real one Quinn faced in his real life. The clank of swords and the roar of dragons drowned out the whispers and stares from the schoolyard. It was a temporary reprieve, but it was enough to make him feel almost normal again. They didn't talk about the meeting or the trip, instead choosing to lose themselves in the fantasy worlds that had always been their escape.
Alex broke the silence, his thumbs pausing mid-combo on his game controller. "You know," he began, not taking his eyes off the screen, "I've always kind of known."
Quinn froze, her own controller hovering in the air. "What do you mean?" Her voice was tentative, hopeful yet fearful of the revelation to come.
Alex took a deep breath, his eyes still focused on the screen. "It's the little things," he said. "The way you sit, the way you laugh, the way you look at the world." He paused, swiveling his chair to finally meet Quinn's gaze. "And the way you push your hair behind your ear. It's always been a giveaway."
Quinn felt a warmth spread through her chest. She hadn't realized Alex had noticed the subtle changes in her demeanor, the way she was becoming more comfortable in her own skin. "You're okay with it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alex nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I am. You're still you, you know?" He paused, his thumbs resuming their dance on the game controller. "But I gotta admit, I've had some questions."
Quinn felt a weight lift. Alex knew. He really knew, and it seemed like he was okay with it. "You can ask me anything," she said, her voice stronger now. "I'll tell you everything."
They talked for hours, their words a tapestry of curiosity, understanding, and friendship. Alex fired question after question, and Quinn answered each one with honesty and grace. They talked about names, pronouns, and what the future might hold. Alex was a sponge, soaking up every piece of information, eager to be a good ally. The conversation flowed naturally, as if they were discussing the latest comic book release rather than Quinn's deepest, most personal secret.
The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room, and it was then that Quinn realized she had forgotten to check the time. She looked at Alex, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a smile. "I guess it's time for me to head home," she said, standing up from the chair.
Alex gave her an awkward but welcomed hug.
The day of the Wilderness Scout Trip had finally arrived, and the tension was palpable as Quinn woke up with the first light of dawn. She packed her bags with meticulous care, ensuring that every item was accounted for. Her father, a man of few words, had insisted on driving her to the school. His eyes were filled with a mix of pride and fear as he handed her the bag filled with food and supplies. He had only just begun to accept her for who she was, and the thought of her facing the wild with a group of boys was more than he could bear.
"Sweetie, you could, I mean we could..." he stammered over his words.
She sighed and grabbed his hand. "It's fine, Dad. I'll be ok, and besides, Alex is there"
Mr. Harper said nothing but that didn't reassure her. He wasn't just scared of what the boys might do to her. He was scared of Alex too. He'd seen the way that boy had been staring at Quinn lately. Alex was a good kid and smart but he was still a boy. Alex had seen it and had a much longer time to process it than the other boys. At this age---with raging hormones---Alex was a different kind of threat. He just hoped he wasn't right and the boy would be on his best behavior.
Quinn took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nausea churning in her stomach. She'd been looking forward to this trip for so long, a chance to escape the confines of school and the whispers that had been following her since the meeting. Now, it felt like a trap, a minefield she had to navigate with every step.
The bus was already loaded with the boys' laughter and the smell of campfire-smoked clothes. They were all in their uniforms, looking like a pack of wolves ready to conquer the wilderness. When Quinn approached, the laughter died down, and the silence was as deafening as a gunshot. The boys shifted, creating a space around her like she was contagious. Jake, Ben, and Kurt watched her with a glint in their eyes that spoke of something brewing. It was a look she'd seen before in the schoolyard, and it never meant anything good.
"Hey, Quinn," Charlie said, his voice a stark contrast to the quiet that had settled. He looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes avoiding hers. "Look, I don't know what's going on with those guys, but I just want to say sorry for the other day... you know, the dumbness."
Quinn nodded, appreciating the effort. "It's cool, Charlie."
Mr. Harris, standing at the front of the bus, said nothing to her but kept looking her way, his eyes narrowed. His grumbling was like the rumble of distant thunder, hinting at the storm to come. He had been a rock of support during her transition, but she could feel his tension now. The secret was out, and it was clear he wasn't sure how to handle it. His discomfort was palpable, and she wondered if he was second-guessing his decision to let her lead the trip.
Quinn took her seat near the front of the bus, the cold plastic a stark contrast to the warmth of her home. Alex sat next to her, a silent sentinel in this uncharted territory. Charlie took the seat in front, turning around occasionally to offer a nervous smile. She knew he was trying to bridge the gap, but it was like trying to cross a chasm with a piece of thread.
The bus rumbled to life, and the diesel fumes filled the air as it lurched forward. The scenery outside the window grew greener, the concrete jungle of their suburban lives giving way to the vast, untamed wilderness. Each bump in the road sent a jolt through Quinn's body, a reminder of the unpredictability that lay ahead.
The bus pulled up to the drop-off point, a clearing surrounded by a wall of trees so dense it seemed to swallow the light. Willow Glades Summer Camp loomed in the distance, a cluster of wooden structures that looked more like a ghost town than a place of fun and adventure. Other buses were already there, unloading their cargo of eager kids, ready for their weekly Summer Camp activities.
That didn't concern them though.
Mr. Harris, his face a portrait of determination, marched them to the edge of the forest. The shadows grew darker as the trees closed in around them, and the sounds of civilization grew fainter. The scent of pine and damp earth filled Quinn's nostrils, a stark contrast to the sterile air of the school bus. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of adventure.
"Alright, Scouts," Mr. Harris boomed, his voice cutting through the quiet. "This is it. The real world. For the next three days, you're going to be tested. You're going to face challenges that will push you to your limits, and you're going to come out the other side stronger for it." His eyes scanned the group, lingering on Quinn for a beat too long. "Remember, we leave no one behind."
The group exchanged glances, some nervous, some excited, but all feeling the weight of the unknown. They donned their packs, and Quinn felt the heaviness of her secret, now a burden shared with everyone she knew. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, her boots sinking into the mulch as she led the way into the forest.
The trail grew narrow, and the canopy of leaves above them thickened, casting a dappled pattern of light and shade on the ground. The rustle of small animals and the distant call of birds were the only sounds to break the silence. Quinn's mind raced with thoughts of the trip ahead, her friendship with Alex, and the looming confrontation with Jake. She had to keep it together, not just for herself but for the troop that was now her responsibility.
"Why are you leading us?" snapped Jake from behind.
Quinn sighed without turning around. "Because Mr. Harris put me in charge weeks ago."
"That was before you became a freak!" snapped Jake, starting.
Alex rushed between them, his eyes flashing. "Back off, Jake!"
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Quinn grabbed Alex, pulling him back. "It's not worth it, Alex," She then looked at Jake. "Two minutes into being left alone and you're starting this shit. We're supposed to be working together..."
Jake grunted. "I don't take orders from freaks."
"Yeah don't get your panties in a twist" chuckled Ben.
"Or do you not wear those yet?" added Kurt.
Quinn wanted to punch him but fought back the urge.
A moment later, an annoyed Jake stomped past them, slamming his shoulder into Alex. Ben and Kurt followed. They tried to slam into Quinn but she was quick on her feet and side-stepped them. Ben almost fell over Kurt but they caught themselves. Then they glared at her and continued followed Jake.
Charlie wandered over to Alex and Quinn. "That was tense"
Alex nodded, his eyes still on Jake's back. "Yeah, it was"
"We should get going," Quinn said, her voice firm but shaky. "We can't let this ruin the trip."
Alex nodded, his fists unclenching. "You're right," he said. "Let's just focus on the survival stuff."
The three of them fell into a rhythm, scanning the underbrush for firewood and checking their compasses to ensure they stayed on the right path. The tension with Jake and his cronies was a constant throb in the background, but they did their best to ignore it. The wilderness was a living, breathing entity around them, and it demanded their full attention.
Quinn couldn't help but feel a sense of isolation as she led Alex and Charlie through the dense foliage. They were her friends, sure, but the weight of her new existence made her feel like she was on a different wavelength. She knew that, for them, this was just another adventure, but for her, it was so much more. It was a chance to prove herself, to show that she was as much a part of this world as they were.
As the light began to wane, the three of them stumbled upon a clearing that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The sun pierced the canopy in shafts of golden light, illuminating a perfect circle of green grass, surrounded by trees that whispered secrets in the breeze. It was the kind of place that made you want to drop your pack and stay forever.
But as they began to clear the area and set up their tents, they heard the crunch of branches and the rustle of leaves. Quinn's heart sank as Jake and his cronies emerged from the underbrush. They had found the same spot. The air grew tense as the two groups eyed each other warily, like rival packs of animals staking their claim on the same piece of territory.
"Look I don't want to fight" said Quinn then she pointed at the size of the clearing. "Its big enough for all of us"
Jake grunted but said nothing more.
Quinn and Alex began setting up their tent in one corner of the clearing, their movements swift and efficient from months of practice. Charlie helped too, his eyes darting nervously towards Jake's group. They had set up camp across the clearing, the gap between them a stark symbol of the rift in their troop.
Alex had been unusually quiet since the confrontation with Jake. Quinn knew he was just as bothered by it as she was, but she couldn't find the right words to comfort him. They had always been a team, but now she felt like she was fighting this battle alone.
There was a low rumble off in the distance. Quinn looked up at the clouds, they were started to turn gray. She frowned. This wasn't good.
"Put some plastic sheets under the tents" she instructed Charlie. "Looks like it might rain".
Charlie nodded, pulling the sheets out of their collective packs.
"I'll get some fire wood" said Alex, brushing the dirt off his bare knees.
"Make it fast" said Quinn, the clouds were foreboding.
Alex nodded and took off into the woods, the sound of his steps fading into the distance. Quinn turned to Charlie, her eyes scanning the clearing. "Keep an eye on the tents"
Charlie looked at the clouds, shivering. "The weather report said it was supposed to be clear for at least five days. Where did this come from?"
Quinn shrugged. "That's weather for you."
Though the sight of it scared her a little. Where did it come from? She'd seen the radar, this was nowhere in sight.
Quinn's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. The clouds that had been a mere whisper of gray now rolled in like a dark army, swallowing the sun whole. The temperature dropped, sending a shiver down her spine.
"We need to find shelter," she said urgently, her eyes scanning the clearing. The open space that had once seemed so inviting now felt eerily exposed. The tents would offer little protection from the storm that was fast approaching. "Maybe we should head to that summer camp?"
"But we're not supposed to leave the forest," Charlie protested, his voice quivering slightly. "It's against the rules."
Quinn chewed her lip, the thunder now a constant drumbeat in the background. "Rules are for when the weather isn't trying to kill us," she said firmly. "We can't stay here."
She turned and shouted for Jake.
Jake's group had almost finished setting up their tent. Quinn's heart pounded in her chest as she approached him. She could feel the weight of his stare, the hostility in the air was palpable.
"Jake," she called out, her voice firm.
He looked up, his expression a mix of defiance and wariness. But as she stepped closer, she saw something flicker in his eyes—understanding, perhaps even fear. The thunder boomed again, and the wind picked up, sending leaves swirling around their feet like miniature tornadoes.
"We can't stay here," she repeated, her voice firm but not unkind. "The storm's going to hit hard, and we need shelter."
"The Summer Camp?' he asked, she nodded.
"Its our best chance. These tents won't cut it" she said, as the wind whipped around her.
Jake nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He knew she was right. The storm was coming in fast and their tents were no match for the impending fury. He turned to his group, his expression unreadable. "Pack up, we're moving."
Charlie came over. "We gotta get Alex."
She cursed, momentarily forgetting he went to get fire wood.
"Ok, you guys start packing up, I'll go find Alex" she said, determined.
The forest grew darker with every step she took. The rain was coming down in sheets now, soaking her through to the bone. She could barely see a few feet in front of her, the lightning providing the only illumination. Quinn felt the first pangs of regret for not telling Alex to wait for her. She was the leader, she should have been more vigilant.
The storm grew more intense with every second, the thunder crashing around her like an angry god's cymbals. The lightning was blinding, painting the forest in stark black and white strobes. Each flash revealed a new landscape, trees that had been friendly sentinels now looked like twisted ghosts reaching out to grab her. Her heart pounded in her chest, drowning out the sound of her own footsteps.
Quinn shouted Alex's name into the tempest, but her voice was swallowed by the wind. She squinted through the rain, trying to spot any sign of her friend. The forest was a blur of motion, branches whipping around her like the arms of a furious beast. There was massively loud boom of thunder a moment later, so loud it as if God had clapped in her ear. It was followed moment later by a blinding flash of light.
The light was so intense, she stumbled backwards and darkness found her.
*****
When she woke again, it was daylight. She was groggy and confused. The rain and storm was long gone but she was strangely dry. She sat up, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. The ground beneath her was soft and covered in a layer of moss that seemed to glow with a faint bioluminescence. The air smelled sweet and fresh, untouched by the pollution of the city. The trees around her were massive, their trunks thick as ancient pillars supporting an emerald canopy that blocked out the sky.
She'd never seen anything like it. It was almost as if she was in an entirely different forest. That was impossible though. Taking stuck to make sure nothing was broken, she used a nearby tree to help herself to her feet.
Her hand brushed against something unfamiliar. She looked down and saw two small mounds of flesh under her shirt. Her mind raced. Breasts? She touched them again, the shock causing her hand to tremble. It couldn't be. But it was. Quinn's eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and fear. She was only on hormone blockers. Things like breasts shouldn't be growing on her chest and yet here they were, for all the world to see.
Her heart hammering in her chest, she reached down to the space between her legs. There was something missing, something vital. It was gone, her thing was gone. All her dreams, all her desires. She was exhilarated but she was terrified. How had this happened? Surely blockers couldn't do something like this and was years away from actual hormones. Yet, there was no denying the evidence. She was definitely no longer a boy anymore.
Quinn took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. Panic was not going to help her now. She had to find Alex and the others. Maybe this was some kind of hallucination from a head injury or something she ate. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe...
She didn't let herself think that last thought.
Quinn took a step forward, her new body feeling alien and unbalanced. The forest was eerily quiet, the usual symphony of bird calls and rustling leaves replaced with a thick, unsettling silence. The trees loomed over her, their boughs twisting in ways that didn't seem possible, like the limbs of a living creature. She tried to shake off the feeling of unease, telling herself it was just shock.
Calling out for Alex, her voice sounded small and lost in the vast expanse of the unknown. She listened for any response, but all she heard was the faint echo of her own words. She looked around for any sign of him, but the forest remained stubbornly unchanged. The mossy floor was unblemished by any footsteps, and the trees stood sentinel, offering no clues to her whereabouts.
Her heart raced with the realization that she was alone, in a place she didn't understand. The thought of facing this new reality without her best friend was more than she could bear. Quinn took a deep breath, steeling herself against the rising tide of panic. She had to stay focused. Alex was resourceful; he had to be nearby. If he wasn't, he'd be back at camp. If not there...he could take care of himself.
Her thoughts swirling, Quinn turned back the way she'd come, retracing her steps as best she could. The forest looked different now, the trees seemingly closer together, the path she'd taken no longer there. The more she backtracked, the more she realized this was not the same forest. The trees had a strange greenish back and the moss below her feet had definitely not been there before. Grabbing a low hanging branch, she pulled off some leaves. She'd studied the forest area before the trip, familiarizing herself with all the different flora and fauna.
I've never seen this leaf before, she thought, taking note of its shape and color. It was purple.
Her stomach twisted into a knot. This was definitely not the forest she knew. The leaves, the trees, everything was off. It was like she had been transported into a painting from a fantasy book. She felt a cold trickle of fear run down her spine. What if she was dreaming? Or worse, what if she'd gone mad?
Quinn took a deep breath and forced the thoughts out of her head. She had to find Alex, the others. She started to walk, her feet moving almost by themselves. Each step was a silent prayer for Alex, for her troop, for anyone familiar.
The forest was eerily quiet, as if it was holding its breath. The only sound was the occasional whisper of the wind through the leaves, and even that seemed to hold a hint of something unspoken. The trees towered above her, their limbs entwined in a way that seemed almost sinister, as if they were hiding something.
The farther Quinn wandered, the more she noticed the absence of storm damage. The branches were unbroken, the leaves unmarred, and the underbrush was untouched by the rage of the night before. It was as if the storm had never occurred at all. The realization grew in her chest like a cold stone. This was not the same place they had set up camp. The very essence of the forest had changed. The trees were too tall, the underbrush too thick, and the air too clean. The world she knew had been replaced by this alien landscape.
Her heart racing, she stumbled through the eerie silence, desperation fueling her search. And then, like a beacon of hope in the gloom, she saw it: a flash of blue. She squinted through the foliage, her heart leaping as she recognized the material of their tents. They were there, but not as she had left them. They were scattered, as if some giant hand had tossed them into the woods like ragdolls.
Quinn's pulse pounded in her ears as she approached the first tent, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of life. The flaps were open, and she could see the abandoned sleeping bags and rumpled clothes inside. The second tent was the same—desolate, the only sign of its inhabitants the half-eaten granola bars and discarded flashlights. Panic gripped her chest like a vice. Where were they? What had happened to her friends?
Finally, she reached her own tent. The sight of it brought a wave of relief—it was still standing, a bastion of familiarity in this alien world. But as she drew closer, she saw that it had been torn open, the contents spilled out onto the glowing moss. Her heart sank, but she forced herself to be methodical.
Quinn dropped to her knees and began to rummage through the mess. The tent flaps flapped in the breeze, the fabric whispering secrets she couldn't quite make out. Her hand closed around the cool metal of her canteen, and she took a grateful swig of water, feeling the liquid soothe her dry throat.
Thankfully her survival pack's was still intact.
Her eyes scanned the contents of her survival pack, her mind racing. Nutrient bars, a first aid kit, a compass, a knife—everything she'd need to survive, but not what she'd need to find her friends. Panic was a live wire, zipping through her veins, making it hard to think straight. But she had to. They were counting on her.
She reached further inside and found the little flashlight there. She tapped it on her thigh, a beam cut through the ground fog. She searched the rest of her tent, looking for anything else. She found her zip up hoodie and pulled it on quickly. Her other pack was shredded, its contents ruined. She did find her smartphone though. The screen was cracked but it still had power. She rushed out of the tent, hoping to get a signal but there was nothing.
Cursing, she stuffed it into the back pocket of her shorts.
She dropped gently on a large rock nearby.
What the hell happened here? It looked like some animal had torn the place apart. What's worse, all her friends were missing?
Her stomach twisted into a knot. What could have done this? A bear? A wolf?
Quinn took a deep breath and tried to push the fear aside. She had to be strong. For herself and for her friends. They had to be out there somewhere. She stood up and took a moment to gather her bearings. Then, with a renewed sense of purpose, she set off to search the rest of the scattered tents.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Jake's hatchet, lying half-buried in the moss. It was a good tool, one they would all need if they were to survive whatever this place had in store for them. She picked it up and tested its weight in her hand. The handle was slick with rain, but she could feel the power of it, the promise of protection. She tucked it into her belt and continued her search.
The next tent yielded more supplies: a few more granola bars, mostly squished but still edible, and Ben's rain poncho, which was surprisingly dry. The climbing gear was in a tangled heap beside it, the ropes and carabiners gleaming in the dappled sunlight. Quinn's mind raced as she packed everything into her survival bag. She'd need to be prepared for anything. No climbing axe though, which gave her some hope that maybe they took it with them. Wherever they were.
****
A few hours earlier---Charlie
Charlie had watched with a heavy heart as Quinn disappeared into the storm, her form swallowed by the wrathful embrace of the elements. He felt a pang of regret for not speaking up when Jake had confronted her, his usual bravado nowhere to be found in the face of such raw hostility. The rain had melded with his own unshed tears, leaving him feeling cold and exposed.
Charlie had always been a bit of a coward. It wasn't by choice but he knew how much he could do. He was timid and overweight, the butt of many jokes and bullying. He'd known Quinn for years. Even when she was still identifying as a boy, he'd always thought she was a little different. Too feminine, too pretty and too different to ever really be one of them. It never occurred to him she'd been trans. When her parents announced it the other night, he wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing like usual.
He only found his courage earlier when Jake took it a bit too far. Even then, he thought it was too little, too late. At least he got up enough courage to apologize to her.
"Hey Fat Ass, help us over here!"
Ben.
While Jake was always the ring leader, Ben was the real bully. He was the only who pushed Charlie around and called him names. Charlie hated his guts but was always too afraid to say anything or do anything to protect himself. Not that there was much he could do---he was fat and slow and had never been in a fight.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to move. His feet felt like they were made of lead but he knew he had to help. They were all in this mess together now. If they were going to survive, they needed to work together.
"Charlie, help us secure it better" barked Jake over the wind.
Charlie didn't hesitate and grabbed the end of the tent that Jake pointed too.
"Hold on tight!" Jake yelled over the wind.
They had barely managed to get the tent up, and now it was being torn apart. The storm had turned into a frenzied beast, and the wind was its teeth, ripping at the fabric. Rain stung their faces and soaked their clothes. The tent billowed and snapped in the fury, the poles bending dangerously.
"Hold it down!" Jake shouted over the din, his voice barely audible above the cacophony.
It was no use though. In one giant gust, the tent was pulled free and went flying away into the darkness.
"You idiot!" Ben screamed, his eyes wild with anger. He took a step forward, his booted foot connecting with Charlie's stomach with a sickening thud. Charlie doubled over, the wind knocked out of him. The pain was intense, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe.
"What the hell, Ben?" Jake's voice cut through the storm. Even he was surprised by Ben's violent outburst. "This wasn't Charlie's fault!"
Ben ignored him, turning his anger on the hunched over Charlie, still grasping his stomach. "You lost it, you find it!"
Gritting his teeth, Charlie nodded, not daring to argue. The last thing he needed was another kick. He stumbled off into the storm, the rain stinging his eyes. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the faint whispers of the forest. His eyes searched the darkness, looking for any sign of the tent. The lightning provided brief flashes of illumination, but the tent was nowhere to be seen.
The storm grew more furious with each step he took. The rain turned into hail, pelting him like tiny bullets. His eyes stung, and his teeth chattered, but he had to keep moving. He couldn't let the others down.
The moment the thunder clapped and lightning struck, the world went white around him. For a second, the forest was stark and clear, every tree and leaf outlined in brilliant light. Then there was nothing but a deafening roar and the sensation of being flung through the air like a ragdoll.
When Charlie opened his eyes again, the world was eerily calm. The storm had passed, and a thick fog had settled like a soft blanket over the forest floor. He blinked, his eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden change from the dark chaos of the storm to the quiet, misty morning. He was lying on his back, his body feeling like it had been wrung out like a wet towel.
With a groan, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and took stock of his surroundings. The fog was so thick he could barely see his hand in front of his face. The silence was almost deafening, and it was unsettling—like the world had been holding its breath and was now slowly letting it out.
There was something wrong though. He flexed his fingers then looked at his clothes. He was completely dry. Last night he'd been soaked to the bone. At the very least, his clothes should have been damp. He touched them just to make sure but it was if they'd never got wet.
He climbed to his feet, brushing himself off. Looking about, there was something strange and new about this forest. He looked down and saw the ground covered in a strange moss. A moss that wasn't there the night before he was sure of that. He bent down and touched it. It felt spongey and had this luminescent quality to it. It glowed faintly and it was the only light source in this dense fog. It was eerie but also somehow calming. He had to find his way back to camp, to the others. He hoped they were okay, even Ben.
With a deep breath, Charlie started to retrace his steps. He walked faster than he ever had, his fear of the unknown pushing him forward. His legs burned and his breath came in short gasps but he didn't dare slow down. The fog swirled around him, playing tricks with his eyes. The trees looked like they were moving, reaching out to grab him. He kept telling himself it was just the fog playing tricks on him but he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
The forest was dense, the fog thick. The moss at his feet was the only light.
"I can't believe I'm lost," he murmured to himself, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness. He'd been in the woods a hundred times before, but none of it looked familiar. The trees, the moss, even the air—everything felt wrong, like a twisted reflection of the forest he knew.
After what felt like hours of stumbling through the fog, something finally looked right. A flash of blue material caught his eye through the mist. It was one of the tents. His heart leaped with hope, and he quickened his pace, the moss squelching under his boots. But as he drew closer, his hope turned to dread.
Ben, Jake, and Kurt were standing in the ruins of the camp, their faces etched with confusion and fear. They were untouched by the storm, dry and unblemished. The moment they saw Charlie, they locked eyes with him. For a moment, Charlie could swear he saw relief in Ben's eyes.
It was a fleeting emotion, as quick as the shadows that danced around the edges of the fog. Before he could take a step forward, a sudden movement in the trees caught his eye. An arrow shot through the air, silent and deadly, and lodged itself in Kurt's shoulder with a sickening thunk. The burly scout yelled out in pain and surprise.
Kurt dropped to the ground, wailing.
A moment later, three or four thick gray figures shot from the forest and charged the boys, roaring at the top of their lungs. The suddenness of their appearance was like a nightmare made flesh, their movements a blur in the mist. The creatures were unlike anything Charlie had ever seen before—massive, hulking forms with elongated limbs and fur the color of storm clouds.
The only one who reacted was Jake. He had the climbing axe from their gear, probably picked it up after it flew out during the storm. He managed to swing it with surprising speed and strength, catching one of the beasts in the shoulder. The creature bellowed in pain but did not slow its advance. It was a display of primal instinct and fearlessness that stunned Charlie into immobility.
The thing's skin was thick and tough, like the bark of an ancient tree, and the axe barely penetrated. But the hit had thrown it off balance. The creature took a step back, its eyes flashing with anger and something else—intelligence? It regarded Jake for a moment, seemingly assessing the threat level before making a decision.
Jake took advantage of the pause, his eyes darting to the others. "Run!" he bellowed, his voice a mix of fear and command.
Right after Jake shouted, the Thing he wounded lunged at him, catching him in the side with a club. Jake went flying, crashing into the underbrush.
Charlie finally regained himself. He didn't wait. Like usual, he ran. He ran just like the coward he always was.
*****
Quinn searched the rest of the "camp".
Her heart sank as she approached the last tent. It was a mess, even more so than the others. It was as if a battle had taken place here, not the fierce battle against the storm but something more primal. The moss beneath her was trampled, and there were large, indistinct shapes in the dirt that could only mean one thing: they had not disappeared by choice.
Her eyes fell on a series of large, heavy footprints that led away from the camp. They were unlike anything she'd seen before—too large to be human, with an unmistakable claw-like imprint. Quinn felt a cold chill run down her spine. What kind of creature left these?
There were at least three or four sets of them, leading in the opposite direction she had come from. She bit her lip, wondering if it was wise to follow.
She decided to search the rest of the "perimeter" first. There she found another set of footprints, smaller, closer together but more importantly, definitely human.
Someone ran away?
Quinn's heart thudded in her chest as she stared at the human footprints. They were faint, almost lost in the luminescent moss, but they were there. The thought of her friends being taken filled her with dread. Yet, the footprints offered a semblance of hope, a path to follow. Carefully, she packed her survival bag with the salvaged items, ensuring that everything was secure and wouldn't make noise.
With the hatchet in her hand, she took a tentative step forward, following the trail. It was clear the person who left these prints was running—they were close together and shallow, as if whoever it was had been in a hurry. The footprints wove through the eerily still forest, the only sign of life the occasional bird call echoing through the trees. The silence felt unnatural, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for her to make a mistake.
Quinn's heart pounded in her chest with each step, her eyes darting from side to side, expecting danger to jump out at any moment. The trees loomed over her, their branches tangling together to form a dense canopy that blocked out the sun. The luminescent moss cast a ghostly glow that made the shadows seem to pulse with malevolent intent.
The footprints grew fainter as she ventured deeper, but she refused to give up hope. Each indentation in the spongy moss was a breadcrumb, a silent cry for help from someone who had been here before her. The forest was eerily silent, save for the occasional snap of a twig under her foot or the distant echo of her own breathing. It was as if the very trees were listening, holding their breath in anticipation of what she might uncover.
And then, she heard it—a muffled cry, barely audible over the sound of her own racing heart. She froze, her senses on high alert. There it was again, a whimper of fear that could only belong to one person—Charlie. The sound grew louder as she approached, and she could make out the unmistakable murmur of voices, the thud of something heavy being dragged through the underbrush.
Quinn broke into a run, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she followed the noise. The forest grew denser, the trees closing in around her, the vines seeming to coil and writhe like serpents. And there, through a gap in the foliage, she saw them—small, greenish figures with pointed ears, their eyes gleaming in the dim light, each one holding a crude club made of what looked like bone.
Her heart in her throat, she watched as they circled Charlie, who was pressed up against the base of a massive, ancient tree, his eyes wide with terror. He was crying, his voice high and desperate, begging for mercy in a tone that tore at Quinn's soul. She recognized the fear in his voice, had felt it herself many times when faced with the cruelty of the world. But this was different. This was the kind of fear that could only come from staring into the face of the unknown.
The creatures were chattering to themselves in some indistinguishable language she couldn't understand.
She didn't need to understand it though, their intentions were clear. They meant Charlie harm and she couldn't allow that.
She didn't even think before she acted. She hefted the hatchet then let it fly.
It whirled through the air, a silent, deadly projectile, and embedded itself in the skull of the creature nearest to Charlie. The impact was jarring, sending a spray of dark liquid into the air. The creature dropped instantly, the weight of its body sending tremors through the moss beneath it.
The others didn't even look surprised. They turned their gaze to Quinn, their eyes calculating, assessing the new threat.
Quinn's heart thundered in her chest, but she stood her ground, her hand reaching for the knife at her side. The survival training Mr. Harris had drilled into them all those weekends came flooding back—how to start a fire, how to navigate without a compass, how to set a snare, and even a little bit of hand-to-hand combat. It had all seemed so trivial back then, playing games in the park. But now, in this alien forest with her friend's life on the line, it was all that stood between them and the monsters that lurked in the shadows.
She charged forward, not thinking.
The world around her slowed to a crawl. The creatures' movements became a dance she could anticipate. Her feet felt like they were moving on their own, dodging and weaving around the clubs that swung towards her. Her hands, usually clumsy and unsure, had a newfound grace.
She tore into the first one, slicing its throat with a quick sweep of her blade. As it dropped, another swung its club toward her head. She ducked and rolled, coming up behind it. She slammed her knife into the space between its shoulder blades. It howled in pain. She pulled the blade free and managed to parry a third blow coming for her head. As soon as steel and bone clashed, her blade slid along the length of the club.
Her knife cut the wrist of her assailant, forcing it to drop its weapon with a startled yelp. Then she lunged forward, burying the blade in its neck.
The fight wasn't over yet though. The one she stabbed in the back was still alive. It was staggering away from the fight, trying to flee. Without even thinking, she retrieved the hatchet from her first victim and threw it. The throwing weapon stuck in the back of its head, dropping it instantly.
Then and only then did reality seem to come rushing back to her. She started panting heavily and dropped to her knees. She realized what she did and looked at her shaking hands. She wanted to vomit but nothing came up. She just did that? She just killed four things and she didn't even blink when it happened.
"Quinn?" said a soft voice, cutting through her panic.
She turned, her blurry vision faded and she saw Charlie, still up against the tree but standing now. There was a hint of urine in the air but she ignored.
"You ok?" she asked, her stunned friend nodded.
The two stared at each other in silence for a few minutes. Neither one of them looked at the dead things around them.
Finally Charlie broke the silence. "How in the hell did you do that?"
How indeed? She had no idea.
She shrugged. "I'm not sure, it just sorta happened. Like some crazy kind of instinct or auto pilot or something."
Charlie nodded. "Well you saved me" he said and added quickly. "Thanks"
She finally turned and looked at the four dead creatures around them. "What are they?"
Charlie finally found his composure and stepped away from the tree. He approached the nearest corpse and crouched next to it. He poked and prodded it with a stick he was holding, not saying anything for a few seconds. Finally he looked up at her and his expression was grim. "I think they're goblins".
She scoffed. "That's ridiculous."
Charlie didn't respond. This wasn't ridiculous to him.
He'd always been a bit of a sci-fi and fantasy geek. He liked his movies, video games and fantasy books. He was the kid who spent hours in his room, reading comic books and watching anime. The rest of the troop had always wondered why he was even a Wilderness Scout in the first place.
When he finally spoke again, it was with determination. "Look around us, Quinn. Those are goblins. Those trees, that glowing moss. They weren't there yesterday. Look at those leaves. This isn't natural. Its..." He took a deep breath. "We're not on Earth".
"What?" she asked.
It wasn't crazy to her though. It was that lingering thought she refused to have earlier. The one at the back of her subconscious, forcing itself to be thought.
"The storm," she murmured. "The lightning."
"It's all a blur," Charlie admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "One minute we're fighting the storm, the next, there's this...this blinding light, and suddenly everything's different." His eyes searched hers, looking for a shred of understanding. "We weren't just blown away by the wind or struck by lightning, Quinn. We've been...transported."
Quinn's mind raced, trying to grasp the impossibility of it all. "What do you mean, 'transported'?" she asked, her voice tight with anxiety.
"Remember the lightning?" Charlie prompted. "It was like nothing I've ever seen. And when I came to, I was just... different." He touched his cheek, his eyes wide with wonder and fear. "The storm, the light, it changed something. And now we're in a place with glowing moss and... and goblins!"
Quinn felt a cold knot in her stomach. She'd been too focused on her own transformation to consider that the storm might have had an even greater impact on the others. "What about the rest of the group?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We lost one of the tents" Charlie explained. "BEn got mad, told me to go after it. I did but the storm was too intense. Then there was this boom and a bright light".
She nodded. "I saw that. As soon as the light struck, I blacked out and woke up when it was daylight out."
"Me too" admitted Charlie. "I was able to stumble back to camp and saw the others. They were just standing around, dumbfounded. Then we were attacked. They were hulking things, they looked like ogres. One of them shot Kurt in the arm with an arm. Jake attacked one with the climbing axe and screamed at us to run. So I did...then..."
She considered what Charlie had just said. They were all lost and scattered now. That did explain the huge tracks she saw leading out of the camp. Those must have been Charlie's "Ogres". The evidence was all there, she was just struggling to admit it. There was no question now though, what with the four corpses at her feet.
Charlie summed it up though. "We've been isekai'ed".
The word hung in the air. While she didn't read his comics or watch his anime, she knew enough from his talking. She knew what that meant.
Shit.
"So you're the expert in all this stuff" she said, after taking a long breath. "What do we do now?"
"If we're following standard Isekai Rules then this is probably some kind of evil forest" said Charlie, looking around nervously.
Quinn kicked one of the goblin corpses. "That adds up".
Charlie continued. "In the usual stories, the main character finds a path or something after wandering the forest for days. Said path leads them out of danger to a road and eventually town."
Quinn grunted. "This isn't one of your stories though". She waved her hand around the forest. "Mr. Harris had a fall back plan remember? We get separated or if something happens, we head back to that summer camp."
Charlie nodded. He knew the plan. "What about the others?"
Quinn was conflicted. On one hand, she really wanted to go find Alex and those other idiots. On the other hand, it was dangerous out there. There safest bet was to hopefully back track in the correct direction and find the summer camp. Then she remembered something else Mr. Harris had said: "Leave no man behind".
Quinn took a deep breath, the scent of the alien forest filling her nostrils. "We need to stick together," she decided. "We find them, and then we find the summer camp."
They set off again, retracing their steps through the moss-covered underbrush. The silence was unnerving, but it also allowed them to hear any signs of trouble before it could sneak up on them. The fog had lifted somewhat, but it remained thick enough to obscure anything more than a few feet away.
Quinn couldn't shake the feeling that the forest itself was playing tricks on them. Every time they thought they'd found their old camp, the path would curve away or end in a tangle of vines. The trees grew denser, the moss grew thicker, and the light grew dimmer. It was as if the forest didn't want them to find their friends.
They pushed on, their determination stronger than their fear. The minutes stretched out like a never-ending corridor of misty green, each step a silent prayer for a sign of their group. The eerie quiet was broken only by the occasional snap of a twig underfoot or the distant call of an unidentifiable creature. Quinn's senses were on high alert, every nerve in her body tingling with the anticipation of discovery or danger.
"Well the hell is wrong with this place?" she asked after an hour.
Charlie had been mostly quiet, observing. "So its one of those forests" he finally said, touching a tree.
"One of what forests?" she asked, annoyed.
"Its almost as if its alive."
Great, she thought, how reassuring.
"So it doesn't want us to get back to our tents then?" she asked, raising the hatchet, ready for anything.
"If I were to guess, its steering us somewhere else" said Charlie, pointing out a root that was clearly shifting. "You saw that right!"
Quinn nodded. She saw it. It made her tighten her grip on the hatchet.
"Where is it steering us then?" she asked, hoping Charlie had the answer.
"I don't kn---" he started but was cut off.
There was a loud bang. A distinctive noise, one they'd both heard in countless movies and TV shows.
A gun shot.
It echoed through the forest, a sound that was both alien and terrifyingly familiar. Quinn's heart jumped into her throat. The noise was sharp, a piercing crack that seemed to split the very air around them.
Charlie's eyes went wide with recognition. "That's a Remington 700!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and awe.
Quinn stared at him, bewildered. "How do you know that?"
He blinked. "I have no idea" he said softly, confused.
Somehow he just did. Just like how he knew the forest was alive. It was just this feeling he was getting. He bit his lip, thinking. Could it be...he shook his head. No, that was crazy. This was real life, not one of his stories.
Quinn had already made up her mind though. "We follow the shot."
Charlie looked at her like she'd lost it. "Why? That's a gunshot. It could be anyone!"
Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Could be anyone with a gun," she countered. "And in this forest of...whatever, that's the best thing we could hope for."
Without waiting for Charlie's response, she took off in the direction of the gunshot. The sound had been distant, but it was a clear sign of another human presence in this unsettling new world. Hell, they might have the others with them.
Her legs burned with the effort of pushing through the dense foliage, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could hear Charlie's footsteps stumbling behind her, but she didn't dare slow down. The echo of the gunshot grew louder, more insistent, guiding her through the labyrinthine forest.
It was as if a switch had been flipped in her brain, and suddenly, she was attuned to every rustle, every snap of a twig. The scents of the forest grew more vivid, the musky odor of the goblins' blood still lingering in the air, the sweet scent of the luminescent moss a beacon that grew stronger with each step. Her eyes, once unsure and fearful, now darted from tree to tree with the precision of a hawk, noticing every detail. The way the branches grew, the patterns of the leaves, the way the light played upon the ground—it all painted a map in her mind that she couldn't have understood before.
Quinn pushed through the underbrush, the thorns and branches that had once been a hindrance now parting for her with ease. Her feet seemed to know the way, each step landing with the grace of an animal that had been born to this world. She could feel the forest's heartbeat, the pulse of life that thrummed beneath the moss and the dirt. It was as if she had been made for this place, a silent guardian of the woods that she hadn't known existed within her.
Her thoughts raced as she sprinted forward. The ease with which she'd dispatched the goblins, the unexplained knowledge of knowing she was going in the right direction, it all pointed to something beyond her understanding. Was it the lightning? The storm? Or had she been changed by something more profound? Quinn had always felt like an outsider in her own skin, but now she was beginning to feel like an outsider in her own reality. What's more, Charlie seemed to know things too. Like the type of gun from hearing one shot or how he seemingly knew the forest was alive?
There was something off about them, something different?
Another gun shot blasted the silence. It was closer. They were getting closer.
"C'mon, we're almost there" she said, determined, pushing faster.
Charlie huffed behind her.
"I can't keep this up" he panted. "I need a break."
"No," Quinn said, "we're almost there."
Her voice was firm, filled with a conviction that surprised even her. She didn't know where this newfound strength was coming from, but she wasn't about to question it. Not when it was the only thing keeping them from falling apart in this alien place.
Ten minutes later, she spotted them. There were two hunters, both dressed in those bright orange jackets. One of them was older, middle-aged with a beard. He was the one with the rifle. The other was a teenager but a few years older than them. He had a compound bow. At their feet, was some kind of wolf.
The sight of the hunters brought a rush of relief and confusion. Who were they? How did they get here?
The middle-aged man looked up, the beard that had once been meticulously groomed was now wild and unkempt. His eyes searched the foggy woods, wary. He saw them and raised the rifle, his eyes narrowed. The teenager, noticing the movement, spun around, the bowstring taut.
Quinn raised her arms, stepping out from behind the tree she'd been hiding behind. "Not bad guys," she said, taking a slow step forward.
The two hunters looked surprised.
"Who the hell are you?" the man with the rifle barked. "What the hell is going on here!"
Quinn shook her head. "No idea. I'm Quinn" She grabbed Charlie and pulled him out from behind the tree too. "This is Charlie. We're Wilderness Scouts".
The man with the rifle studied them for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he lowered the weapon. "You're just kids," he murmured, his shoulders dropping with relief.
Quinn frowned, annoyed. "We're thirteen."
The hunter chuckled. "I'm Mack, this is my nephew Ethan."
Quinn nodded at them, her eyes lingering on the massive creature at their feet. It looked like a wolf, but it was almost the size of a horse, and the horns curling from its forehead were definitely not standard wolf equipment. Its fur was mottled with patches of green, as if the forest had grown into it.
Mack saw where she was looking and nodded. "Not something you see every day."
"Its a Horned Wolf," mumbled Charlie.
"Its not natural," said the old hunter.
"Uncle Mack, like I told you, I don't think we're on Earth anymore" said Ethan, speaking for the first time.
"That's ridiculous," snapped his uncle.
"But its not," added Charlie. "Look at the flora and fauna. I think it was the storm. Did you guys see a bright flash of light and lose consciousness immediately after?"
Both hunters looked at each other but didn't say anything.
Quinn looked at Ethan.
He was probably about sixteen, with sandy blonde hair that was swept back, giving him a wild, untamed look. His eyes were sharp and piercing, like they'd seen more than their fair share of the world's ugliness. And despite the absurd situation, she had to admit, he was kind of ruggedly handsome. It was weird. Just yesterday, she would have barely given him a second glance, but today, his attractiveness was like a neon sign that she couldn't ignore.
"This is crazy," grunted Mack, still unwilling to believe what was right in front of them.
"Let me show you," said Ethan, pulling out his GPS device. "It's been out of whack since we got here."
The screen was a mess of jagged lines and question marks, the map useless.
"I never trusted those things anyway," said the veteran hunter and he pulled out his compass.
He frowned a second later.
"It's not just broken," Ethan said with a hint of awe. "It's... confused."
Quinn stepped closer, peering at the compass. The needle spun in wild circles, as if it couldn't decide which way was north. It was like the very fabric of reality had been torn apart and stitched back together with a child's carelessness.
Mack finally sighed. "This makes no damn sense."
"Tell me about it" said Quinn "Charlie and I have been trying to figure it out for hours".
Mack looked at them as if looking at them for the very first time. "You said you were Wilderness Scouts?"
Charlie nodded, still panting. "Yeah. We were on a three-day trip. We're supposed to be learning survival skills and stuff."
Mack raised his eyebrows. "Well, you're certainly getting a crash course now," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Quinn took a deep breath and began their tale. She spoke of their group of six, the storm, and the chaos that had ensued. How they had woken up in this alien world, their camp destroyed, and the goblin attack they'd just escaped from. She didn't mention the strange things happening to her, keeping that part of her story to herself for now.
"Our friend Alex went to look for firewood before the storm started," added Charlie. "Quinn went looking for him. That started it. Then the storm. We lost a tent, I went to look for it and the flash happened. When I woke up, I ran back to camp and saw my friends get attacked by these monstrous things. One of them is injured. I don't know anything more because I ran".
"And this was this morning?" asked Mack, looking at his watch.
Quinn nodded. "I met up with Charlie a couple of hours ago. That's when I killed those goblins".
"Goblins" said Mack softly, shaking his head. "This is nuts"
A howl interrupted their thoughts. Mack and Ethan snapped up their weapons, ready for anything. Quinn and Charlie looked around nervously. It was the first howl they'd heard. Looking at the two hunters, it was clear they'd been fighting for their lives. It made Quinn wonder why Mack didn't put two and two together sooner.
"We can't stay here," cautioned Ethan, snapping the bow about, ready to shoot.
"There's a summer camp, that's where we were going," said Charlie, sharing a look with Quinn.
"Willow Glades," said Mack, nodding. "We know it. That's where we parked our truck."
"You think maybe our friends went there?" asked Charlie, hopeful.
Mack rubbed the back of his head. "Food and shelter, right?" he asked, Quinn nodded.
Mack reached into his vest, pulling out a map. He unfolded it, studying it. "Well the camp should to the east."
"That's if there is an east here" pointed out Quinn. "Remember your compass?"
Mack frowned again. "There's also the ranger station."
Quinn shook her head but no one noticed. Mack wasn't getting it. This wasn't their world anymore. Hell, they didn't even know if the summer camp was there. She was still very confused, trying desperately to piece things together. It was clear that anyone who saw that bright flash of light was brought here. The only reason she was convinced the summer camp was still here was because their tents were. It stands to reason that if they were brought here and so were the tents, then objects got transferred over as well. Maybe that meant buildings too?
"What do we do?' asked Ethan, still on a nervous hair trigger.
"I'd really like to check for the ranger station" said Mack, pointing it out on the map. "I can't guarantee it will be there but it will have shelter, maybe food, there might even be a truck or something"
Quinn looked at them, realizing they didn't have any packs. "Your supplies?"
Ethan shook his head. "At our camp. We tried to double back but this place..."
"Its wrong," added Charlie. "I think its alive."
As much as she wanted to regroup at the summer camp, she also wanted to find their friends. If there was a chance that Jake, Alex or the other two had made it to the Ranger Station...She sighed, they owed it to them to check.
"Ok, let's try to find that Ranger Station," she finally said, determined.
Quinn didn't argue. She had felt the same way. "Let's stick together then. Safety in numbers."
As soon as the thought came into her head, she felt this nagging tug. It was that instinct again, the very same one that had led her to Mack and Ethan.
"We should follow the river,," said Mack, pointing to the map.
Charlie shook his head. "Its not there anymore. Your map is useless."
Mack looked annoyed. "How do you know that?"
Charlie shrugged. "I just do."
That nagging feeling was really tugging at her, almost drawing her to the west. Finally it was too much for her. She pointed, "It’s that way."
All three of them looked at her.
"Are you sure?" asked Charlie, a moment after their quiet silence.
She nodded. "I don't know why but I have this feeling. The same one that led us to Mack and Ethan. As soon as I agreed to go to the station, that feeling returned. Its telling me its that way."
Mack and Ethan shared a look again.
"Well," said Ethan, finally relaxing and lowering his bow. "I guess we go that way."
He shot Quinn a smile that made her feel a little weak in the knees.
They set off, with Mack in the lead, Quinn and Charlie close behind, and Ethan bringing up the rear, his eyes darting around as if expecting a monster to pop out of every bush., his bow at the ready.
The forest was eerily quiet, the only sounds their footsteps on the soft moss and the occasional rustle of something watching them from the underbrush. Quinn felt like the forest was holding its breath, waiting for them to make a mistake. She gripped the hatchet tightly, feeling the weight of it in her hand, ready to fight for her life again.
After what felt like an eternity, the trees began to thin and the light grew stronger. Quinn's heart raced as the pull grew almost unbearable, and then, like a mirage in the distance, the Ranger Station appeared. It was a simple wooden building on stilts, nestled among the trees, looking almost out of place in this bizarre landscape. It was a beacon of hope amidst the alien world they had stumbled into.
The four of them approached cautiously, the silence of the forest unbroken except for their footsteps. The closer they got, the more the structure looked like it belonged here—the wood was twisted and glowed faintly with the same luminescence as the moss. Yet, there was something comfortingly familiar about it that made their spirits rise.
As they reached the stairs, Quinn noticed something strange. The boards didn't creak, the nails didn't groan, it was as if they'd been placed there by an invisible hand moments ago. She shared a look with Charlie, who seemed equally bewildered.
Mack reached the top step and cautiously peered into the station. The light was dim, flickering like candlelight. He turned back to them, his expression grim. "Quiet," he murmured.
They nodded and followed suit, their eyes wide with anticipation and fear. The door was ajar, and Quinn's heart pounded in her chest as they pushed it open, the wood protesting with a soft squeak. The smell of damp earth and something faintly metallic filled the air. Inside, the Ranger Station was in disarray—furniture overturned, maps scattered across the floor, and supplies scattered haphazardly.
In the corner, a lone ranger was hunched over a radio, his back to them. His uniform was soaked through with sweat, his eyes wild and desperate as he fiddled with the dials. Static hissed from the speaker, a cacophony of white noise that seemed to mirror the chaos outside. The room was lit by the soft glow of a kerosene lantern.
Mack stepped in, his boots making a soft thud on the wooden floorboards. "Hey," he called out, his voice a gentle rumble. "You okay in here?"
The ranger whipped around, his hand shaking as he pointed a gun at them. His eyes were wide with terror, darting from one face to the next.
"Who are you!" he barked, trembling. "Where did you come from?"
Mack slowly shouldered his rifle. "I'm Mack Rogers, this is my nephew Ethan" He said, pointing at himself then at Ethan.
Quinn spoke up. "I'm Quinn Harper, this is Charlie Boyle. We're Wilderness Scouts. Have you seen anymore of us?"
She was hopeful.
The ranger's eyes searched their faces, his hand still shaking as he kept the gun trained on them. His uniform was soaked in a cold sweat, his eyes wild with fear. "Wilderness Scouts?" he repeated, his voice cracking.
Mack took charge again. "These kids got lost in the forest, they're separated from their friends. My nephew and I were deer hunting"
The Ranger finally lowered his weapon. "I'm Keith, Keith Daniels. The only one here now, my partner abandoned me."
Quinn exchanged a look with Charlie. "They abandoned you?"
Keith nodded. "Heather. She left hours ago to look for help, she..." He shook his head. "She abandoned me."
Mack took a step forward, making sure to put himself between Keith and his young charges. The last thing he needed was for the guy to have mental breakdown and start firing that pistol.
"Take it easy, Keith," he said, his voice low and steady. "We've all had a rough go of it. Did you see anything strange during that storm? Something like a...bright light?"
Keith's eyes narrowed, his body shaking. "You too?" he whispered. "I saw it. A blinding light, right before everything changed. Before the monsters came."
Quinn looked at Charlie. "What kind of monsters?" she asked.
"Big ones" he said, looking toward the large window overlooking the forest. "They trashed the place. I hid in the storage cabinet. They didn't find me".
While Keith turned to put at the cabinet, Mack gestured to Ethan. Keith had set the gun on the counter. While his back was turned, Ethan quickly lunged forward and grabbed it. Keith was so distracted he didn't even notice. Mack let out the breath he'd been holding. Keith turned back around, blinked at the stop where he left the gun but said nothing.
"Look" said Mack, staring around the interior of the station. "Its getting late and dangerous. You think we could bunker down here for the night?"
Keith laughed. "My station is your station."
Mack looked at Ethan, who shrugged.
Keith composed himself for a few seconds, looking at Quinn. "There should be some blankets in one of the cabinets. Sorry there's only just one couch."
Quinn nodded. "It's okay. We're just happy to be safe for the night." She started searching the station interior, her eyes scanning the overturned furniture and scattered supplies. The monsters had left its mark, but the place wasn't in shambles. The scent of damp wood and fear lingered in the air, but she pushed that aside and focused on the task at hand.
Mack and Keith were busy discussing the layout of the area, sharing their knowledge of the land and what they'd encountered. Ethan took up post by the door, his bow still strung, watching the forest intently.
Quinn and Charlie set to work on the couch, flipping it over with a grunt. The springs protested but held, a testament to its sturdy construction. It was a simple, functional piece of furniture, but after the day they'd had, it might as well have been a throne. They righted it and checked it over, making sure there were no nasty surprises lurking in the cushions.
While they worked, Ethan remained vigilant by the door, his eyes never leaving the forest beyond. His grip on the bow was firm, and Quinn couldn't help but admire the tension in his arms, the way he held himself. He was strong and capable, and she felt a little safer with him watching their backs.
"Hey there's a fridge" said Charlie, the beam of Quinn's borrowed flashlight landing on the door.
There was no power in the station but she went over and opened the door anyway. There were several bottles of water and some sandwiches. It wasn't the greatest of meals but it was food, something she hadn't had for hours. There were only three sandwiches, so she split them so they could all eat.
Quinn and Charlie sat on the couch, Mack and Keith over by the radio. Ethan was still by the door. Everyone ate and drank in relative silence.
When they were done, Mack finally spoke up. "So, what the hell happened to us?"
Charlie swallowed his last bite of sandwich and took a sip of water. "I think we got Isekai'ed."
Mack raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"It's like when characters in anime get transported to a fantasy world," Charlie explained. "But instead of just being in a story, it's like it actually happened. In the flesh."
Mack scrunched his face up. "You're saying we're in some kind of...fantasy world?"
Charlie shrugged. "Not necessarily. Its some place that seems to have similarities to fantasy settings."
Mack frowned, stroking his beard. "Well, I've seen some strange things in my time, but this takes the cake." He gestured to the forest outside. "But alright, let's say we're in some kind of fantasy world. What's our next move?"
Quinn piped in. "Well if the ranger station is here, that probably means the summer camp is too. Mr. Harris---our trooper leader---told us to regroup back there if anything bad happens."
"And your friends?" asked Ethan.
Quinn sighed. "Let's hope they tried to make their way there too."
Mack nodded, stroking his beard. "It's the most logical place to go for shelter and help. They should've had the same idea."
Quinn hoped so. The thought of her friends, especially Alex, out there alone and hurt was a heavy weight on her shoulders. She had to believe they were okay. That they'd be waiting at the summer camp, wondering where she and Charlie were.
On the walk to the station, she had some time to think. They really had no idea how dangerous and vast this forest was. They could spend hours looking for Alex, Jake and those other two idiots. She just hoped they were smart enough to try and find shelter.
As the daylight waned and night crept upon them, they decided to get some sleep.
"You two need your rest," Mack said firmly, pointing at Quinn and Charlie. "We'll take guard duty"
Quinn tried to protest but they wouldn't listen to her.
"You're just kids," Mack said, his voice firm. "You need your rest. We've got this."
Quinn opened her mouth to argue, but Ethan stepped forward. "Let them," he said quietly. "You've been through enough today."
They made Quinn take the couch. Charlie had found a sleeping bag stuffed in the bottom of the cabinet with the blankets.
It took Quinn some time to fall asleep but as soon as she did, it was like morning was there a second later.
Quinn woke up, stiff and blinking her eyes, confusion swirling around her. She was momentarily disoriented, unsure of where she was. Then the pressing need to go to the bathroom hit her. She groaned inwardly. It was the thing she was dreading more than anything. All day yesterday, she tried not to think about her situation. Now with this pressing matter, it was like reality was knocking on her door.
She was a girl now. It was the thing she WANTED more than anything in the whole world. The problem was, she was now scared. She wasn't sure why or even how it happened. She was dreading going into the bathroom and dealing with the lack of something between her legs and the new thing that was there.
She looked around the room, locking eyes with a wide awake Keith. "Ummm, where's the bathroom?"
Keith nodded to the back. "Through that door," he said, pointing with his chin.
Quinn's stomach flipped. She hadn't thought about the practicalities of being a girl until now. Swallowing hard, she pushed herself off the couch and padded over to the bathroom, her heart racing. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The room was small and cramped, with a toilet, sink, and a mirror above it.
Her eyes squeezed shut, she reached down and unbuttoned her shorts, letting them drop to her ankles. The cold porcelain of the toilet seat sent a shiver down her spine as she sat down. The sensation was new, unfamiliar, and she felt a twinge of fear as she positioned herself. Her breathing was shallow as she tried to ignore the reality of all of this. It was too much to face right now, too real.
So she peed. It was weird and felt unnatural. It flowed out like a gushing fountain, not the concentrated stream she was used too as a boy.
When she was done, she flushed quickly, wiped with some toilet paper and pulled up her shorts. She rushed out the room, almost bowling Charlie over.
"Everything ok?" he asked, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Fine" she said, her voice a bit high. "Everything is fine!"
She rushed over to where Mack, Keith and Ethan were discussing their next course of action.
The three of them were discussing their next course of action.
"We should stick to the plan," Mack said, his eyes looking toward the window. "Find the other scouts, regroup, and then figure out how to get out of this...whatever it is we're in."
Ethan nodded. "And we need to be careful. Who knows what other things are out there."
They all agreed to be prepared. They split up, searching through the ranger station for anything useful. Quinn found a first aid kit and some emergency flares in a drawer. Charlie found a couple more flashlights and some batteries. Mack and Ethan rummaged through a back room, coming out with another sleeping, a flare gun, and a handful of snack bars. They piled everything on the counter, looking over their supplies.
"What about other weapons?" asked Ethan, speaking what everyone was thinking.
Keith cleared his throat. "There's a gun case but I don't think giving guns to the children is such a good idea..."
"We weren't planning too" said Mack and he hefted his rifle. "I'm running low on ammo and if what you and Charlie described is out there, we might need heavy firepower."
Keith pulled keys from his pocket. "There's a twelve gauge in there. Heather took the other one and my pistol is..."
Ethan lifted his shirt, showing it stuck in his waistband. "Safe here"
Keith didn't question it.
Mack tossed his nephew the keys. "Get what you can from the case and be careful."
Ethan caught the keys one handed, nodded and went off to find the gun case.
Five minutes later, Mack was loading a 12 gauge shotgun, the shells clinking metallically as they slid into place. His eyes were focused, his movements sure. Quinn had seen his type before, military probably. The way he handled the weapon was methodical and precise. It was like watching someone put together a puzzle they had done a hundred times. Mr. Harris was the same way.
Charlie looked at the gun. Something told him it was a Mossberg pump action, standard police issue. He had no idea how and why he knew that. It was just like some of the others things. As soon as he saw something, his head filled with weird knowledge. Like the corpse of that wolf, he suddenly knew it was a Horned Wolf without even thinking. He also knew that while he considered the creatures they saw "goblins" and "ogres", in this world they had different names. He kept that weird bit of trivia to himself though.
"There were rifle rounds too but no gun for them" said Ethan, using a backpack he found to secure the extra ammo.
Keith nodded. "Its in the truck. Heather..."
Mack nodded but said nothing. Their weapons would have to do for now. He took a deep breath and looked around at the assembled group. "Ok, so this is the plan" he said, looking at each face in turn. "Now they we know the ranger station is in this world too, its right to assume that the buildings of the summer camp are probably here too. Now ideally, we'd search the forest for your missing scout friends but we have no idea what's out there."
Everyone murmured and nodded.
"So" he continued. "We're going to do it the most efficient way possible. We'll trek to the summer camp, Ethan will stay behind with Quinn and Charlie. Then Keith and I will venture out into the woods to look for the missing scouts."
Ethan started to protest, saying "I can help too" but Mack held up his hand.
"We have no idea what we're up against" he said, looking from Quinn to Charlie. "There's something about this whole situation that bothers me. I want to keep these kids safe and I want you to do it."
Ethan looked at the two thirteen-year-olds, sighed and nodded.
"Good," said Mack, putting his hand gently on his nephew's shoulder. Then he turned to Quinn with a big smile. "We'll find your friends and then find some way to get you kids home."
Quinn felt strangely reassured and safe. She was relieved too. With Mack and Keith, their odds of survival had gone way up.
Mack took charge, splitting their supplies between Quinn's and Ethan's packs. He was meticulous, ensuring that everything they would need was accounted for. They had water, food, the first aid kit and their weapons. As he worked, Quinn noticed that he was giving her extra glances. It was like he was trying to communicate something without actually saying it.
Finally, when he was satisfied with the distribution, he leaned in closer to her pack and tucked something inside. She watched as his hand moved, placing something small but heavy at the bottom. When he straightened up, he looked her in the eye and nodded slightly. Quinn felt her heart jump in her chest. She knew what he'd done. He had put Keith's pistol in her pack.
The gesture was clear. Neither said anything about it either.
With everything secure, they decided to move out finally. The tension in the station was thick. They knew that they couldn't stay there forever. The forest outside was a mystery, filled with unknown dangers and possibly their friends.
Keith stepped up to the door, holding the shotgun tightly to his chest. He took a deep breath and pushed it open, letting in a rush of cool morning air. The light from outside painted the floorboards a gentle green as he stepped onto the porch. The world beyond looked serene, their future possibly bright again.
But that serenity shattered as soon as the door was fully open. Two large black arrows sliced through the air, their tips gleaming with a deadly precision. They hit Keith with a sickening thunk, one burying itself deep into his throat, the other lodging itself between his eyes. The force of the impact sent him reeling backward, his body thumping against the floor inside.
It was so quick, so sudden.
Quinn actually heard someone scream, until she realized it came from her own throat.
A moment later, chaos happened. A large gray thing smashed straight through the station's window, sending glass and wood flying everywhere. The creature was unlike anything she had ever seen. It had the body of a giant bear, the arms of a man, and a face that was a twisted mix of rage and hunger. It hit the ground with a thud, its large feet cracking the floorboards, and let out a roar that made the walls shake.
A gunshot rang out, Mack's rifle. The round hit the thing right between the eyes but it didn't even flinch. The bullet did nothing but make the thing angrier.
It screamed louder and another one of those Things came smashing through the roof. This one had a large thick club, which it swung at Mack. The veteran hunter turned to face the blow, blocking the impact with the length of his rifle. With a sickening snap, the rifle was snapped in half. Mack stood stunned for a moment, holding both pieces of his now useless weapon.
An arrow went flying and dug into the creature's neck. Again it barely reacted. Ethan fired off another arrow but it bounced off the Thing's thick skull.
"Ethan get them out!" shouted Mack, recovering.
Quinn didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Charlie's hand and started to run toward the door. But she didn't get far. The creature with the club swiped at her, the air displacing as the wood whistled through the air.
Mack saw the attack coming and lunged forward, pushing her aside. The club smacked into his back with a wet thud. The impact sent him sprawling across the floor, his body twitching as he cried out in pain.
Quinn's heart raced. She couldn't believe it was happening. Her mind screamed for her to run, but her legs remained rooted to the spot. She watched in horror as the creature with the club raised its weapon again, aiming for the helpless Mack.
But Mack was not going down without a fight. He had seen the shotgun fall from Keith's lifeless hands and had moved faster than she thought possible. He slod across the floor, his body gliding over the splintered wood and glass as if it were a slick ice rink. His hand reached out and grasped the cold metal barrel of the gun.
With a grunt of effort, he swung it up and fired. The roar of the shotgun filled the room, a deafening sound that echoed in Quinn's ears. The creature that had been advancing on her stopped in its tracks, its hand blown off in a spray of fur and blood.
This time, It definitely felt the pain and bellowed.
Mack locked eyes with Ethan. "Get them out of here!"
Ethan hesitated, his gaze flickering to Mack, then to the horror unfolding around them. His heart hammered in his chest. He didn't know if he could leave his uncle behind, but he knew he had to protect Quinn and Charlie. With a heavy heart, he turned away from the battle, gripping his bow tightly.
I hate, I hate this, he thought, fighting back tears.
Mack nodded, firing off another shot. This one hit the other Thing, the one near the door. The blast was enough to stagger it, giving the other three a chance to escape.
"Run!" he shouted, preparing another shot.
Quinn didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Charlie's hand and the two bolted out of the shattered doorway, down the steps, and into the embrace of the forest. The cool morning air stung her lungs as she sprinted through the underbrush, the sound of their panicked breaths and rustling leaves the only noises she could hear over the ringing in her ears from the shotgun blast. She didn't dare to look back.
Ethan was right behind them, his eyes glued to the path ahead, his bow drawn and ready to shoot. Every snap of a twig or rustle in the bushes made her heart skip a beat, but she knew they had to keep moving. They couldn't stop until they were far away from that terrifying creature and the devastation it had brought to the Ranger Station.
As they ran, he heard a scream and one last blast of the shotgun.
The trio didn't stop until a small, clear stream came into view, gurgling happily, oblivious to the chaos that had invaded its serene world. They reached it, panting and wheezing. The coolness of the water was a stark contrast to the heat of their panic. They collapsed by the banks, their legs giving out beneath them. The stream was like a lifeline, a symbol of purity in this nightmare.
"Shit, fucking shit" Ethan finally shouted, pulling off his pack and tossing it on the ground.
Quinn stared at him, letting him get out all his anger and frustration. Ethan cursed and stomped before finally dropping to his knees, his head in his hands. She finally wandered over, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. She rubbed it, hoping it would help. She didn't know what to say or do. She didn't know Mack long at all but he was a good man. He saved them, he sacrificed his life so they could live.
"That Thing" Charlie finally said. "Those, those were the Things that attacked our camp"
Quinn turned to him. "Your Ogres?" she asked, he nodded.
After seeing them in person, she was suddenly very scared for Jake, Ben and Kurt. She was scared for Alex too, hoping he was far, far away.
That sat by the stream for about twenty minutes, neither of them saying a thing. Ethan quietly mourned, Charlie sat thinking and Quinn spent her time wondering how far it was to the summer camp. Her thoughts were all a mess. What had seemed like a simple and easy thing with Keith and Mack protecting them was now an instant nightmare. Both men were gone and while they gained Ethan, they were alone again.
Finally, she broke the silence. "We can't stay here."
Ethan said nothing for a moment, then sniffled and wiped his face. "You're right. Uncle Mack wouldn't want us to just sit around like this. He'd tell us to keep moving, to get as far as way as possible"
They gathered their packs, the weight of the supplies feeling heavier than before, a stark reminder of the loss of their protector. Ethan took a deep breath and started walking, Quinn and Charlie followed close behind.
"My uncle was a good man," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "He taught me everything I know about hunting, about survival. He was tough, but he had a heart of gold."
"What about his life before all of this?" she asked, genuinely interested.
Ethan took a deep breath. "Well, he was in the Army for most of his life. Loved the outdoors. Taught me and my cousins everything we know. He was like a dad to me, after my folks..." He trailed off, his voice cracking.
"It's okay," Quinn said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Ethan took a deep breath and stood up, his eyes red from holding back tears. "No, it's okay. It's good to remember him, you know?"
Quinn nodded but all of this was still pretty raw.
They walked in silence for a bit, the only sound the rustling of leaves and the occasional bird song. It was eerie, like nature was trying to lull them into a false sense of security. But she knew better. The forest was a living, breathing creature and it had already shown them its teeth.
Quinn tried to focus, to find that inner compass that had guided her before. But it was as if it had been turned off. The feeling was disorienting, like she had been cast adrift in a sea of doubt. She glanced back at Ethan, who was trudging along, his eyes on the ground. He had to be feeling it too. The weight of their loss heavy on his shoulders.
They walked for hours, the sun arcing through the sky, casting shadows that grew and shrank around them. The forest was eerily quiet except for the occasional bird call or rustling of leaves. It was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for their next move. Quinn's eyes darted from tree to tree, searching for any sign of their friends or the creatures that had taken them. But there was nothing, just an endless sea of green and brown.
"Anything?" asked Charlie, hopefully.
She shook her head. "I think my GPS is busted."
Charlie bit his lip, thinking. "Maybe you need to focus more, think about something specific"
"Like what?" she asked, confused. "I didn't anything specific before."
It seemed to click with Charlie. "Yes you did. When we found Ethan and Mack, you were centering on the gunfire and when you found the direction of the ranger station, you were thinking about the station, right?"
He was right of course. The problem was, there was nothing specific about the summer camp. They didn't actually step foot in it. She only saw it and the buildings from a distance. As soon as they got off the bus, they started into the woods.
Then something clicked. As soon as she thought of the bus, it was as if she knew where it was. She groaned, like a stupid idiot. Of course, the bus. Mr. Harris had told her the night before the trip that he and the bus would remain at the summer camp. That's why he wanted them to head back there if there was any trouble.
Another thought occurred to her.
"Charlie, Mr. Harris!" she said, practically giddy with excitement.
"What?"
She grabbed his arms. "Think about it. We're here, the guys are here, Ethan is here. The ranger station and Keith..."
She could see his brain working, the genius that he was. Charlie smiled. "Then there's a possibly that anyone in the forest back home could be here as well."
Quinn nodded. "Mr. Harris said he was staying at the camp!"
Ethan jumped in. "Are you saying your Scout leader is here?"
Quinn smirked. "Not just him but the bus we came in on" She pointed her finger to their left. "Its that way!"
Neither boy questioned her but Charlie did hug her.
They walked for a few minutes, the silence between them thick with unspoken fear and hope. Quinn's thoughts were racing. Could Mr. Harris be here? Could he help them? And what about her other friends? Were they okay?
"Hey, Quinn?" Charlie's voice was soft, hesitant. "Can we talk about something?"
Quinn nodded, keeping her eyes on the path ahead. They had been walking for about twenty minutes now, the quiet of the woods pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. Ethan was a few steps behind, lost in his own thoughts.
"Okay, so what's going on with us?" Charlie began, his voice low so Ethan wouldn't hear. "You've got these...instincts or something, and I know things I shouldn't."
Quinn nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. "I don't know how or why, but it's like we're changing."
Understatement of the year, she thought. She still hadn't told him about her complete gender change. Honestly, she wasn't sure how to bring it up.
"I think..." said Charlie, hesitating for a moment. "I think they're abilities".
"What? Like superheroes?" she asked, both skeptical and excited.
He shook his head. "Yes and No" He bit his lip. "I know this isn't one of my stories but in those stories, sometimes when people get transferred to another world, they gain special skills..."
As crazy as it was to her, it did explain a lot of things.
She turned around, looked at Ethan then turned back to Charlie. "Do you think that maybe Ethan is feeling strange too?"
Charlie shrugged. "Only one way to find out"
Quinn nodded and bit her lip. "Hey Ethan" she said, not sure how to word it exactly. "I know this might sound crazy but you don't happen to have strange abilities now, do you?"
The look on his face said it all. "What are you talking about?"
"You know, like how Quinn can sense where we need to go, like a homing pigeon on crack," Charlie said with a forced chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "Or I know weird shit I shouldn't?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking from Quinn to Charlie. "What are you guys on about?"
Quinn sighed. "We're wondering if maybe you feel different too? Like you have super speed or heat vision..." Ethan gave her a look like she was nuts. She sighed. "Something is going on with me and Charlie. We can't explain it and..."
"Isekai stuff" explained Ethan, nodding with understanding. "Like getting special powers when going to another world"
Charlie and Quinn's mouths hung open. "What?" They both asked.
Ethan laughed. "I watch anime too you know."
The two Scouts were dumbfounded.
Well shit, thought Quinn, having completely misjudged him.
"To answer you question though" said Ethan, sighing. "I don't feel any different. Maybe I'm just not special"
"That doesn't make any sense though" said Charlie, not accepting that his theory was wrong. "Why do Quinn and I have abilities but you don't?"
"And why couldn't I focus on the summer camp" she said, the thought had been bugging her for awhile now.
She never fully saw summer camp but the same could be said about the ranger station and the rifle. Yet, she was able to fully hone in on their location without a problem. It was almost as if something was trying to stop her from finding the summer camp? She could understand Charlie's theory about the forest being alive but why allow her to find Ethan, Mack and the ranger station but not allow her to find the summer camp? She was also able to find their tents without issue either even if she didn't realize it at the time.
It made no sense.
She cursed. Just when she thought she was getting the hang of this "tracker" ability of hers, it was still a mystery.
"Maybe it has something to do with your mood?" said Charlie, thinking again. "I mean, we were all pretty torn apart about what happened and..."
He didn't finish but he didn't have too. She looked at Ethan and while he still looked pretty shook, he didn't say anything else.
Was that it? She made a mental note to test it later.
They fell silent again, the forest swallowing their words, leaving only the rhythmic crunch of their boots on the damp earth. Quinn's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of what they might find at the summer camp almost unbearable. She tried to focus on the path ahead, her eyes peeled for any sign of the bus or the camp itself. The nagging feeling grew stronger with each step, like a homing beacon pulling her in. She hoped it wasn't her imagination playing tricks on her.
Another half an hour passed, and then, through a break in the trees, they saw it—the unmistakable shape of the school bus, a jarring splash of yellow in the sea of green. Quinn's initial excitement quickly turned to dread. The bus was in shambles. Its windows were smashed to pieces, the tires flat and useless. The once gleaming metal was now marred with rust and covered in vines that crept up from the forest floor, as if the vehicle had been abandoned for months. The sight made Quinn's stomach twist. What could have happened here?
"That's your bus?" asked Ethan, getting his bow ready for a fight.
"Yes" said Quinn then very quickly. "No. Well, I think so."
She started toward it but Ethan put a hand in front of her to stop her. "Let me go first, just to make sure."
Quinn nodded, reluctantly. "Okay."
Ethan took the lead, his eyes scanning the area as he moved. The forest had definitely reclaimed the bus, vines and branches entangling it, like a wild beast that had captured its prey. The door was a fight to open, stuck in its frame and resistant to Ethan's efforts. With a grunt, he gave it a final tug and it swung open with a screech, revealing the darkened interior.
The moment they stepped inside, the scent of decay hit them. The floor was covered in a thick layer of leaves and dirt, with a few rotten supplies scattered about. The seats were torn apart, stuffing pulled out like the innards of a gutted animal. The forest had indeed gotten inside, reclaiming the metal beast as its own.
"I don't get it" said Quinn from behind him. "We were only here two days ago. How did it get like this?"
She picked up an empty potato chip bag, crumpled and dirty.
Charlie was right behind her, the beam of his flashlight scanning about. "Where's Mr. Harris and the bus driver?"
That was a good question. The bus was completely deserted.
They looked around the bus for anything salvageable but found nothing. The interior was a mess, a stark reminder of the chaos that had overtaken their lives.
They stepped out of the bus, the door slamming shut with a hollow echo. Ethan looked around the area, realizing that if the bus was here then maybe other cars would be too. This was where the parking lot of the summer camp was supposed to be, back in their world. He squinted, trying to spot any signs of other vehicles or the camp itself. The trees grew closer together here, the forest's grip on the clearing almost claustrophobic.
"What are you looking for?" asked Quinn, sauntering up beside him.
"Our truck" he said, hoping it might be somewhere hidden about.
The school bus and these scouts had arrived after them or else he would have remembered the bus. If his memory was right though then they parked somewhere...
He squinted, spotting the distinctive red of Uncle Mack's pickup.
"There!" he said, quickening his pace.
The pickup looked like it had been through hell and back. The forest had not been kind to it. The once shiny red paint was now dull, covered in a layer of grime and moss. The tires were flat and the windows were smudged with dirt. But it was still standing, a beacon of hope in this alien world.
Ethan approached the truck with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The door was jammed shut, but with a few good kicks and a grunt, he managed to get it open. The interior was a mess, with the seats ripped and the dashboard cracked. The smell of mold and decay hung heavy in the air.
"Jackpot," he murmured as he found his backpack buried under a pile of leaves and debris. His heart sank when he pulled it out. The fabric was torn, the zipper barely hanging on. But as he unzipped it, his eyes widened in amazement—he pulled out his phone. He turned it on and sighed, there was even some power left. He scrolled through his photos, finding a pic of him and Becca.
"Your girlfriend?" asked Quinn, standing close to his elbow.
He sighed. "No but I wanted her to be". He thought about tossing the phone into the woods, what was the point now. "Guess it doesn't matter anymore, right? That's how this Isekai shit works..."
He left the rest unsaid. Like he mentioned before, he watched anime. Most of the people in them that were sent to another world didn't get to go home.
I hope you have a good life Beck, he thought sadly as he tossed the phone on the seat.
Quinn reached in and picked it up. "No, you can't lose this. Its a connection. The power might not last much longer but its yours for the moment. Don't lose sight of that."
Her own phone had stopped working hours ago. All those memories---the photos of her family and friends---gone forever. She still kept it though, holding out hope that maybe one day she'd see them again.
"Guys" said Charlie, interrupting. " I found the summer camp!"
They turned to see him standing in front of a break in the trees, pointing to a clearing that looked like it had been swallowed by the forest. The cabins and the main building were obscured by thick growths of trees and underbrush, as if the forest had reached out and grabbed hold of them, pulling them back into the fold. The silence that enveloped the area was eerie, as if the camp itself was holding its breath.
They approached the edge of the clearing cautiously, the feeling of unease growing stronger with each step. The once well-kept path to the camp was now barely visible, nature's attempt to reclaim the space. Everything looked abandoned but not like it had for months like the bus and Mack's truck. This place literally looked like the people just left it. There was no growth on the buildings themselves but the it was clear the forest was trying to consume them.
The camp sign stood as a strange sentinel above everything as they stepped into the camp proper.
The quiet was eerie, a stark contrast to the vibrant memories she had of their last visit. The camp was supposed to be full of life, with the laughter of children and the chatter of counselors. Now, it was as if the very air was holding its breath.
The main building loomed before them, a silent sentinel with a story to tell. Quinn's instincts screamed at her, whispering of unseen dangers lurking in the shadows. They entered the office, and it was as if time had stopped. The computer sat untouched, the screensaver casting a flickering glow over the dust-covered desk. The chair was pushed out, as if the person using it had left in a hurry.
Charlie was in the sitting area, looking at magazines that clearly were only left a few days ago, still pristine. He dropped onto one of the couches, exhausted.
"Where is everyone?" asked Ethan as Quinn walked out of the office.
"We should check the other buildings?" she said, determined to find someone.
Where were the kids? Where were the counselors? Where was Mr. Harris?
None of this made any sense.
They decided to explore more. As a group the three of them continued to search for people. They checked all the big buildings first
The first building was the infirmary, the place was spotless. The beds were made and everything looked untouched. It was like someone had paused the world and they were the only ones left in it.
In the mess hall, the smell hit them first.
They stepped into the kitchen, a place that usually was filled with the scent of cooking food and the bustle of activity. Now, it was the complete opposite. The fridges lined the walls, no usual buzzing hum. Tupperware containers lay scattered on the floor, their contents festering and putrid. The counters were bare, save for a few dishes that had been abandoned in the sink, now covered in a thick layer of green and black sludge.
"No power here either" said Charlie, flicking the switch on the wall.
Quinn sighed. "No point checking those for anything edible then" she said as Ethan almost opened one of the fridge doors.
They stepped back outside and headed towards the next building. It was the Rec Hall, where the kids probably spent so many nights playing games and watching movies. The door was ajar, and the sight that greeted them was surreal. The round tables and chairs were scattered about, as if a tornado had blown through, tossing them like leaves. The floor was sticky with what looked like spilled soda and popcorn, a sad reminder of the last moments of joy that had filled this space. The stage at the front was bare, the curtains drawn aside, revealing nothing but an empty space.
Quinn sighed, defeated. "Let's check the cabins"
They walked towards the line of cabins, their boots squelching in the damp earth. Each cabin looked the same—closed windows and doors, a stoic face to the world. The first few were easy enough, their doors were open, the interiors a mess of hastily abandoned sleeping bags and personal items. It was like the campers had just vanished into thin air.
The next few cabins were locked, and Ethan had to break them open. Inside, everything was neat and orderly, like the campers had been told to evacuate and had complied with military precision. The bunks were made, the floors swept clean, the air stale and untouched.
They found their first sign of life near the next cabin. But it wasn't life, it was body. Not a human one though. It was one of those Ogres.
"What the hell?" whispered Charlie, his voice shaking.
There were at least three arrows sticking out of it.
Ethan approached it, shaking his head. "Makes no sense, my arrows couldn't even slow it down."
He plucked one from the creature. It was make with the green wood of the trees around them, the feathers were red, the arrow made out of some strange silver metal he'd never seen before. He turned to Quinn, showing it to her. It was very clear what this new discovery meant---they weren't the only ones in this forest.
"I've never seen an arrow like this" he admitted.
She nodded, cautious. "You think that means there's someone else in this forest who oppose those things?"
"Maybe this place isn't just full of monsters wanting to kill us" said a hopefully Ethan.
Charlie said nothing. He knew though. He knew as soon as he saw that arrow. It was that ability of his again. There was someone else in this forest. Someone he wasn't sure was friend or foe though.
"What do we do now?" asked Ethan, sticking this new arrow in his own quiver.
"There's one more cabin" said Quinn, pointing to the last one.
They approached it, their hearts heavy with the weight of their findings. The door was securely shut, locked. Ethan took a step back, took a deep breath and then slammed into it with his shoulder. It flew open with a bang, the sound echoing through the camp.
The sight that met them was like a punch in the gut. The cabin was for younger kids, kindergarten or first grade. The tiny bunks were neatly made up, stuffed animals peering out from under the blankets, their plastic eyes seemingly watching them with curiosity. The walls were covered in colorful drawings and posters, a stark contrast to the grim reality that had swallowed the camp.
Toys were scattered about the floor, as if the children had just stepped out to play and never returned. Quinn felt a lump form in her throat, her mind racing with the thought of those innocent lives caught in the middle of this nightmare.
A noise behind them made them all jump. It sounded a shuffling sound, something on wood. They all snapped around and found a wardrobe, painted in bright colors in the back corner of the room.
"What the hell?" Ethan whispered, his bow at the ready.
Quinn took a deep breath, steeling herself. She stepped closer to the wardrobe, her hand reaching for the doorknob. It was cold to the touch. She paused for a moment, listening intently. The shuffling had stopped, replaced by a tense silence that was almost palpable. Then, with a gentle twist and a soft creak, she pulled the door open.
At first, all she saw was a jumble of clothes—tiny t-shirts, shorts, and socks—hanging neatly from the rods. Then, she noticed something that didn't quite fit. It was a shimmer of light, something that didn't belong. Her eyes searched through the fabric, and she gasped as she caught sight of a hand. A human hand, small and trembling, poking out from behind a row of colorful raincoats.
It was weird though because a moment ago, there was nothing there.
Quinn's eyes grew wide as she pushed the clothes aside. There, in the back of the wardrobe, huddled a small figure. A little girl, no older than eight, in a pink camp t-shirt and tan shorts. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her breaths coming in hitched sobs. She had one hand clutched around a stuffed pink rabbit, the other covering her mouth to muffle her cries. Quinn could smell the sour scent of urine and fear that clung to her. It was a scent that told a story of terror and loneliness that no child should ever have to experience.
She bent down, her heart thumping at the sight. "Its ok" she said softly. "No one's going to hurt you, you're safe."
A moment later, the girl looked up at her, her cheeks stained with dry tears. "The monsters are gone?"
Quinn shared an exchange with Ethan then looked back at the girl. "Yes, they're all gone."
The girl sniffled and looked past them. "Where's Jenny?"
Shit, thought Quinn.
"Who's Jenny?" she asked, still not sure how to deal with this. She was an only child after all, she didn't know how to deal with little kids.
"She's our Big Sister" said the girl, sniffling.
"Their Cabin counselor" said Ethan, clarifying. "I used to go this camp as a kid. The girls' get Big Sisters and the boys get Big Brothers."
Quinn bit her lip. "I don't know where Jenny is" She then had a thought. "Did Jenny put you in here?"
The little girl nodded. "She said I had to hide and stay quiet, so we stayed quiet. I heard the monsters though and screaming. Mr. Big Man shouted for everyone to run."
Mr. Big Man? A thought occurred to her.
"Was Mr. Big Man from the bus? Was he wearing a gray shirt?" she asked, hopeful.
The girl nodded. Quinn sighed. Mr. Harris.
"You don't know where he is, do you?" she asked, still hopefully.
The little girl shook her head again. "I only heard him shouting. He was a nice man. He helped us, took care of us."
Quinn shared another look with Ethan. She saw the confusion on his face. Something didn't make sense. They'd only been in this forest for two days. That wasn't really a lot of time. Plus the spoiled food and the state of the vehicles.
"Have you been here in the wardrobe long?" she asked.
The girl shook her head again. "Only since night time when the monsters came." She paused, crying again. "I peed, I'm sorry..."
Quinn felt a maternal instinct take over. She reached out and touched the girl's head, stroking it reassuringly.
"What's your name, sweetie?" she finally asked.
The little girl sniffled. "Sadie."
Quinn smiled. "That's a beautiful name. I'm Quinn" she turned and pointed at the boys. "That guy is Ethan and that boy is my friend Charlie."
The little girl looked at each of them in turn. When she locked eyes with Ethan, Quinn saw something. The little girl stared, almost as if she was mesmerized by him. Quinn smirked faintly. Ethan's good looks even wooed the little ones.
"Do you want to get out of there?" she asked, the girl hesitated.
"The pee..." she said, quivering.
Quinn tried not to laugh. "We'll get it cleaned up. You have spare clothes."
Sadie nodded and carefully climbed out of the wardrobe. She looked so tiny and vulnerable standing there. Quinn had to fight back tears at the sight. She had so much she wanted to tell the little girl but she knew it wasn't the right time. They had to find everyone else first.
"You guys go check outside. Make sure it's safe" she told Ethan and Charlie, the boys nodded in understanding.
Quinn waited until they left the cabin before turning to Sadie. She held out a hand and Sadie slowly took it. "Come on, let's get you into some clean clothes" she said with a gentle smile.
Sadie pointed out her bunk and a pink bag. They found some fresh clothes for her and Quinn slowly helped her strip out of the ones that were damp and dirty. While Sadie got dressed, Quinn noticed a mirror on the wall. She wandered over, having not looked at herself since she changed genders.
The sight of her reflection in the mirror was jarring. Quinn had been so focused on finding her friends and surviving this strange world that she hadn't noticed the changes in herself. Her face had softened, the angles sharper, her hair had grown longer, and she could see the beginnings of breasts under her shirt. She was still herself, but she was also someone else.
She noticed something else. She was covered in dirt, mud and blood.
The blood was the most disgusting thing. Thankfully it wasn't hers. She realized it probably belonged to either the goblins or that Ogre that Mack shot the hand off of. Her clothes were dirty and blood smeared as well. They didn't fit her body well anyway. Her shorts were too loose in some places and snug in others. Her budding chest also made her shirt a tad uncomfortable.
She turned To Sadie, thinking. "Does Jenny stay in this cabin too?"
Sadie nodded, just finishing dressing. "Over there."
Quinn saw a bigger bunk, a large duffle at the foot of it.
"Jenny's bunk?" she asked, and Sadie nodded.
Quinn walked over to the large bunk. She felt guilty but they needed to survive. She hoped Jenny wouldn't mind her borrowing some of her clothes. She unzipped the duffle and started rummaging through it. It smelled faintly of flowers and mint, a smell that made her think of home. She found a few shirts and pairs of shorts, some underwear. She was happy to lay her hands on a sports bra that might work. While her new buds were still small, they were rubbing against the fabric of her shirt and was starts to bother her.
She pulled off her dirty shirt and shorts. Standing there in boy's boxer briefs made her feel weird. She also suddenly felt self conscious and covered her chest with a hand shyly.
A moment later, she stripped out her boxers, refusing to look down there still. She found a pair of Jenny's panties, apologizing as she pulled them on. Then she struggled with the sports bra but think she managed. It was thankfully fit better than she thought. The shorts fit as well but were shorter than she would have liked. Finally came the shirt. Unfortunately she didn't have much of a choice in that matter. They were all camp shirts. She picked a white one with three pine trees on it.
"Do you think Jenny would mind if I borrowed these?" she asked and Sadie shook her head.
"Big Sister Jenny is nice" said the girl with a sad smile.
Quinn instinctively found herself going over to the girl and hugging her.
"It's okay Sadie" she whispered. "We're here now."
A moment later, Ethan knocked on the cabin door. Quinn called out for him to enter, her voice still shaky from the intense emotions of the discovery. He stepped in, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and fear as he held a cardboard box brimming with snacks.
"Look what we found!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the deserted space. Quinn's gaze fell on the box, her stomach growling at the sight of the sugary and salty treasures within. Ethan explained that he and Charlie had stumbled upon the aftermath of a vending machine raid at the mess hall. Someone or something had broken into it, leaving a trail of scattered coins and shattered glass. The box was a trove of salvaged goods—chips, chocolate bars, and even a few uncrushed cans of soda.
"Jackpot!" said Quinn, grabbed a bag of chips and a can of soda.
She passed both Sadie who took them happily.
Charlie came into the camp, motioning Quinn away from the little girl. Ethan nodded and silently stepped into the cabin to watch her. While Quinn and Charlie walked away from the cabin, Charlie sighed.
"We found bodies" he said, keeping his voice low.
"What?" asked Quinn, now on high alert, reaching for her hatchet.
Charlie sighed again. "A couple of adults, one of them the bus driver. No kids or teens though. There's something else too, lots of the Ogres. They're scattered all about on the other side of the camp and all of them killed with those arrows."
So they really weren't alone.
"What does this tell you?" she asked him, hoping his "ability" might know something.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I know a name but I don't think its going to help. There's something about these people, its blocking my Perception."
"Perception?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged. "You call yours Tracker, mines like Perception".
Fair enough, she thought, not caring to argue over a little thing like a name.
"You think you can find them?" he asked, hopefully.
Quinn nodded, closing her eyes and focusing on her Tracker sense. She thought of the campers, but she didn't know their faces. The same for the teen counselors. It was like trying to find a whisper in a tornado. She tried to center on the arrow, hoping maybe it would lead her to whoever fired it. Still there was nothing. She sighed, opening her eyes. She shook her head and Charlie nodded.
They returned to the cabin, the sight of Sadie's tiny form in the corner was comforting. The little girl looked up at them with wide eyes, her cheeks still damp from her tears, but now slightly sticky with chip crumbs.
"It's okay Sadie" said Ethan, setting the box down. "You can have more if you want."
The little girl's eyes widened. "Really?"
He patted her head, she smiled happily. He walked over to Quinn and Charlie. "I have a sister back home, this feels the same" said Ethan willfully.
"How old?" asked Quinn, not sure why.
"She's ten" he said with a sad smile. "Funny, she always wanted to be a counselor at this camp"
Quinn nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.
"The camp seems to be our best bet for now," she murmured to the others, the reality of their decision sinking in. "It's got food, shelter, and it's the safest spot we've found."
Ethan nodded solemnly. "We can't keep moving without a plan. And we need to figure out what happened to everyone else."
Not only did they have Alex, Jake, Kurt and Ben to look for, they had all the kids at this camp too. This forest really sucked.
"Just when things are bad enough, this stupid forest throws more at us" grumbled Charlie, saying what all three of them were clearly thinking.
"I think we need to go from cabin to cabin and look for anything to salvageable, especially food and water." said Ethan, the others nodded. "I also think that Rec Hall is probably the best place to hunker down. The walls looked solid but more than that, those doors were heavy and had locks."
Quinn and Charlie didn't argue.
With a plan in place, Quinn told Sadie what was going on. Then she helped the little girl pack all her things. She explained they couldn't stay in this cabin and Sadie gave her no problems.
The search was grim. Each cabin they entered had a story, but no one was there to tell it. They found more signs of hasty evacuations and scattered things. They gathered as much as they could carry—sleeping bags, food, and water. Quinn noticed something peculiar, though. Despite the chaos, the cabins didn't seem to have been ransacked. It was almost as if everyone had dropped everything and ran, leaving everything behind.
They stepped outside, the warmth of the day dissipating into the cool evening air. The forest around them was eerily quiet, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. The sight of the bodies was something they tried to avoid, not wanting to traumatize Sadie further. Thankfully most of them were at the other end of the camp where they decided not to go but there were a couple---like the first one they found---that they didn't want the little girl to see.
Inside the Rec Hall, Quinn made sure Sadie was comfortable, sitting her down on a bean bag she'd found. The girl clung to her pink rabbit, her eyes wide and darting around the familiar space. Quinn tried not to let the sadness show on her face as she watched her.
While Ethan and Charlie worked outside, bringing over bunks from the cabins, Quinn took stock of their new shelter. The Rec Hall had been abandoned, just like the rest of the camp, but it was a sprawling space with plenty of room for the four of them. It had a stone fireplace, which was a plus, and windows that could be barricaded. It was the safest place they could think of for now.
Nightfall came swiftly, bringing with it a cloak of darkness. Quinn's heart thumped in her chest as she listened to the rustling outside, her mind racing with images of monsters and missing friends. She took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand.
The fire in the Rec Hall's fireplace crackled to life, casting a warm glow over the room. Ethan had managed to scavenge enough firewood to last them the night, and the flickering flames danced shadows across the walls. They had set up a few kerosene lanterns around the space, their golden light illuminating the dusty floorboards and forgotten craft supplies. The room smelled faintly of pine and something faintly metallic—a stark contrast to the fresh scent of rain that still lingered from the storm that had brought them here.
Quinn found Charlie sitting by the fire, scrawling in a red leather bound book. "What's that?"
Charlie smiled. "I found this blank journal book in the lost and found in the main office" he said with a big smile. "I thought maybe I'd make a record of our journey."
Quinn looked at the name that Charlie decided to call his record---A Scout's Guide to Another World.
"Really?" she asked with a laugh.
Charlie shrugged. "I thought it kind of fitting"
She laughed but said nothing.
The silence was a strange companion to their evening. It felt heavy, filled with unspoken words and fears. They had survived a lot these past two days, found another survivor, and a place to stay but the night was another beast entirely. It was something she didn't look forward to. The nights were when things came out to play, when the monsters came out.
Quinn approached Ethan and Sadie. Ethan looked up from his makeshift barricade. He had moved tables and chairs, creating a circular space around the mattresses they had dragged from the cabin. He had even used the metal frames of several beds as part of their fortress. The thought made her smile a little. They were going to sleep on those mattresses with their sleeping bags, but at least they had something between them and the unknown.
"I found the keys for that storage back there on the..." he whispered, not wanting to say "body" but she nodded, understanding.
They had tried getting into that room earlier but it was locked tight. Ethan tried breaking in but no use. That's when he went to find the keys and was apparently successful.
They anticipate potential nocturnal dangers, reflecting on their harrowing experiences thus far.
The night had been slightly cold despite their best efforts to keep the fire going. The warmth of the day had been replaced by a restless chill that seemed to seep into their very bones. The fire in the Rec Hall did its best to keep the cold at bay, but it was a battle that was slowly being lost. The crackling flames cast a warm, flickering glow on their tired faces as they munched on their snacks for breakfast. The crunch of chips and the sweetness of chocolate bars filled their mouths as they chewed in silence, the only sound being the occasional pop from the fire.
In the morning light, the room looked less threatening than it had the night before, but the shadows still held secrets that made Quinn's skin crawl. She watched as Ethan and Charlie moved the makeshift barricade and as a group they approached the locked storage room in the back.
With a shaky hand, Ethan inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The sound echoed through the empty room. The door swung open with a squeak that sent a shiver down Quinn's spine. The storage room was larger than she had expected, packed to the brim with various camp supplies. They stepped inside, the musty smell of unused equipment and old canvas hitting them like a wall.
The sight before them was surprising—instead of food, the room was lined with racks of sports gear. Bows and arrows, baseball bats, and lacrosse sticks filled the shelves, all coated in a thin layer of dust. The realization dawned on them that they hadn't found sustenance but something equally as vital for their survival—weapons. They had been living off their wits and what little they had, but now, they had the means to defend themselves more effectively.
"Now that's what I'm talking about" said Ethan, grabbing a baseball bat and passing it to Charlie.
Charlie swung it clumsily but smiled nevertheless. "Day Three in Another World, we found weapons" he muttered happily.
Day three, thought Quinn, flabbergasted.
Technically it was now the fourth day since she left home. She wondered if her parents were worried yet. She supposed they'd be panicking, probably trying to call her. She pulled her now dead smartphone from her pack, staring at the blank, cracked screen. She felt a pang of sadness and worry. Would they get back home? Could they get back home?
Suddenly, Ethan put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I know and I can't promise anything but I'll keep us safe and find a way."
It was reassuring in a way.
Their moment was interrupted by a loud noise.
It sounded like metal on wood and there was a screeching of tires.
Some idiot needs to learn how to drive, she thought until that thought hit her like a ton of bricks. Someone was driving, as in a vehicle.
They all froze for a moment, their hearts racing. The world outside the Rec Hall had been eerily quiet all morning, and the sudden interruption was jolting. They had grown accustomed to the rustle of the leaves and the occasional distant howl of a creature, but this was different. This was a sound from their world, a sound that didn't belong here.
They bolted out of the hall, their eyes searching the horizon for the source of the commotion. Through the gaps in the trees, a cloud of dust and leaves was billowing, hinting at something large and fast moving. The white truck emerged from the dense foliage, its headlights piercing the early morning gloom.
The vehicle looked like it had seen better days. The paint was scratched, the bumper hanging slightly askew, and the hood was dented. It skidded to a halt a few feet past the large camp sign. The driver's side door flew open and a figure stumbled out, looking around in a daze.
It was a woman in her twenties, dressed in a ranger's uniform. Her auburn hair was tied up in a hasty bun, strands escaping and framing her flushed face. She looked like she had been through hell and back. Her eyes were wild and her breathing was ragged as she scanned the area for threats.
A moment later, Jake and Kurt rose up from the flatbed of the Ranger station vehicle. Quinn's heart skipped a beat. Her friends, the ones she'd been worried about for two days, they were alive. The other two scouts looked dirty and bedraggled. Then she saw Kurt clearly. Jake was struggling to help him down from the truck. She remembered what Charlie had said, he got shot. She looked to where his shoulder was haphazardly bandaged but the blood was seeping through.
Kurt looked in rough shape, sweating and pale.
The Ranger woman saw them first. She was surprised to see people, especially after what she had been through. She had known the camp was there, the last thing she expected was to find a group of kids standing in the middle of it. Then Jake locked eyes with Quinn and smiled, though it was about all he could do at the moment. The relief and joy on his face was palpable. He had found someone who might know what was happening.
Quinn was the first to rush over, followed closely by Charlie. There were tears in her eyes, she was so happy to see her friends.
"Is he ok?" she asked when she got to them.
Jake looked grim but the Ranger spoke first. "We got the arrow out and gave him some rudimentary first but I think its infected. We need..."
"An infirmary" said Ethan, who was carrying Sadie in his arms, like an overprotective big brother.
The Ranger nodded. "That's why I tried to find this place. We tried all night, we just..." She sighed, wiping her sweaty brow.
Charlie spoke up. "The forest doesn't want you to find things".
What he said hung in the air but no one said anything.
Ethan gently set Sadie down and she rushed over to Quinn, clinging to her leg. Quinn picked her up, the little girl's arms tightening around her neck. Then Ethan took the lead, with Jake and Heather following with Kurt, who was now groaning in pain. They moved quickly through the camp, retracing their steps from the night before. Quinn followed, her mind racing. They had to get to the infirmary fast.
The infirmary looked just like it had when she had found it with Ethan and Charlie, but it felt different now. It was no longer a place of eerie solitude but a place of hope and potential salvation. The Ranger's voice was calm and collected as she instructed Ethan to place Kurt on the nearest cot.
"I found them after I left the ranger station for help" she explained as they gently put Kurt on the cot. "They were quite the sight".
Jake nodded, his eyes red from exhaustion. "Yeah, we were trying to get away from... something big."
"Those Ogres" said Quinn, knowing Charlie's part of the story. "We've met them".
Jake looked at Charlie. "I'm glad you got away at least" He then lowered his voice. "They grabbed Ben, took off with him before we could react".
Shit, thought Quinn.
That was not what she wanted to hear.
She then looked over at the Ranger. "You're Heather, right?"
The woman nodded, confused and surprised. "How do you know that?"
Quinn shared a look with Ethan. "Keith told us" she said quietly.
"Keith?" sad Heather, frantic. "Where is he? Is he here?"
Another look shared between Ethan and Quinn. Ethan spoke. "A lot has happened. I'll do my best to explain while we help Kurt".
Quinn nodded, turning to her other friend. "Come on, let's give them some space" she told Jake, her voice filled with a firmness that surprised even herself. She walked out of the room, Sadie still in her arms. Charlie followed, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and dread.
The three of them stepped into the cool morning air, the smell of the forest enveloping them as they moved away from the infirmary. The leaves whispered their secrets in the breeze, and the chirping of birds seemed almost too cheerful given the gravity of the situation.
"So..." said Jake, after a moment of two of silence. "That was one hell of storm".
Jake liked humor to diffuse a situation but no one laughed. Quinn had a strange relationship with him. They were friends but since her coming out as trans before the trip and his attitude about it, she wasn't sure where they stood. They didn't exactly part as buddies the night of the storm.
"So Charlie told me about happened during the storm and the morning after..." She said, not wanting to recap it. "I woke up in the forest, found the tents but you guys were gone. Then I found Charlie, saved him from some goblins and we together found Ethan and his Uncle Mack"
"Wait, did you say goblins?" asked a dumbfounded Jake.
Charlie quickly explained how the goblins almost killed him and how Quinn came out of nowhere, turning into a badass and slaughtering them.
Quinn still wasn't sure how she did it.
Quinn continued the story about hearing the gunshot and finding the two hunters, Ethan and his uncle, Mack. How she was able to find the ranger station with Keith and how after a night of taking shelter there they were attacked in the morning by those very same Ogres.
"There's three of us now" she said, hoping she didn't have to go into detail about losing Keith and Mack.
Jake nodded, understanding.
"This ability of yours..." he asked, lowering his voice. "Is it all tingly and shit?"
What Jake said surprised her. She nodded, not sure where this was going.
"I think I might have one too" he said slowly. "I'm not sure though. It happened when the Ogre smacked me with his club and I went flying into the forest. I hit a tree but I didn't feel any plan. A blow like that should have seriously fucked me up too but nothing. I got right back up and actually the Ogre came after me. He hit me again but it still didn't hurt."
She was flabbergasted. It almost sounded like Jake was saying he said kind of ability to not feel any pain or get injured.
"How did you guys get away?" asked Charlie, anxious to know what happened to them after he ran away.
Jake frowned. "I heard Ben scream. I ran back in time to see them dragging off him and Kurt. They were fast but I ran after them. The one with Kurt was slower because he was dragging an injured Kurt. I'm not sure what happened but my body felt like steel. I slammed into it, fists swinging. It was like instinct. I beat it senseless and managed to get Kurt back. I couldn't catch the one dragging Ben though..."
Another problem they'd have to face, she thought, cursing.
Jake looked around. "Is Alex here too?"
Quinn shook her head. "We have no idea where he is either. After fleeing the ranger station, we eventually found the summer camp. It was completely abandoned, except for Sadie who we found hiding. She said monsters attacked. No Alex but Mr. Harris was here"
He was alive too as far as she knew. Charlie had told her last night when they found the bodies Mr. Harris was not among them.
"So we're not on Earth anymore, right?" asked Jake, looking at Charlie, who nodded. Jake laughed. "One of your stupid anime has finally come true. You must be thrilled."
"Do I look thrilled?" asked Charlie, Jake said nothing.
After that, the three of them decided to go back to check on Kurt, Quinn still carrying Sadie. She'd been strangely quiet during their whole conversation. The little girl had watched them the whole time but didn't add anything. Quinn wondered if she was still in shock.
In the infirmary, they found the room quiet, almost too quiet. Kurt lay on the cot, his breathing even and deep. The Ranger, Heather, looked up as they entered. She had cleaned him up and changed his bandages, which were now cleaner and tighter. Ethan had found some medical supplies in the cabin, which was a relief.
"We treated the infection with some antibiotics we found, he's resting now" said Heather with a relieved sigh.
Quinn nodded then asked. "Are you up to speed on everything?"
Heather quietly sighed. "Pretty much. I feel bad about leaving Keith, if I had known..."
"Not your fault, none of us could have predicted this" said Ethan reassured.
After that, they left Kurt to rest peacefully in the infirmary and took Jake and Heather to the Rec Hall and their makeshift shelter.
They gave Jake and Heather some food and water, watching as the color slowly returned to their faces. Sadie was sitting by the fireplace, scribbling away in a coloring book they had found in one of the cabinets. The bright colors looked almost surreal in this otherwise grim setting. It was a small slice of home in a world that was anything but.
"So what do we do now?" asked Charlie, finally breaking the silence.
Heather looked at them all, the weight of their situation etched into her eyes. "First, we survive," she said firmly. "We need to fortify our position, find more supplies, and set up some form of communication."
Jake nodded, his eyes flicking to Quinn. "But we can't just leave Ben with those things," he said, his voice tight. "We have to do something."
Heather leaned forward, her expression sympathetic but firm. "I understand, and we will, but we can't go after Ben without a plan. We need to know more about these Ogres, their patterns, and their territory."
Jake clenched his fists, frustration and determination fighting on his young features. "But we can't just leave him there!"
"I know," Heather said, her voice a mix of compassion and steel. "Believe me, I don't want to either. But we need to be smart about this. We have to be strong for ourselves first if we want to be strong for Ben."
Jake nodded, his expression torn between anger and understanding. "But we can't just wait around here," he said. "We have to do something."
Heather took a deep breath. "I know it's hard, but we can't go after Ben blindly. We need to know where they took him, how to get there, and what we're walking into."
Their back and forth went on for a few minutes before Ethan interrupted them.
"We can't forget about the kids from this camp either" he said, hoping to steer things away from an argument he was certain had been happening a lot between those two.
Heather nodded, understanding the concern. "We'll keep that in mind, but we can't split our efforts. We need to focus on one thing at a time".
The tension in the room was palpable as they debated, each trying to balance their fear and hope. The fire crackled and spit in the background, casting flickering shadows on their faces. The smell of the burning wood mingled with the faint metallic scent of fear.
What about Alex, thought Quinn, still concerned for her best friend.
"Going around in circles isn't helping" Heather finally admitted, running her hands through her hair that was now down and flowing. "Can we all agree that securing this place should be our top priority?"
No one argued, not even Jake, even though he was still angry.
So that's what they set out to do.
For the next two days, the group worked tirelessly to fortify their makeshift base in the Rec Hall. The rest of the camp was like a fortress, surrounded by a dense barricade of trees and thick underbrush that made it almost impossible to penetrate. The path that Heather's truck had forged was already starting to close in on itself, as if the very land was trying to keep them contained. It was eerie and disconcerting, but it also provided a natural defense against whatever lurked beyond the camp's borders.
Quinn still wasn't sure how those Ogres were able to penetrate it before like that.
Speaking of the bodies, they buried the humans and left the Ogre bodies in a pile that they burned. Of course all of it without Sadie seeing.
One of the good things about all of this was that Kurt fully recovered. He was conscious now too but still not able to leave the infirmary, his shoulder was still pretty tender and he was still pretty weak from the infection.
The other scouts had filled him in on everything though. He, like Jake, wanted to go after Ben too.
"One thing at a time" was all Heather would say on it.
Quinn knew that she had to respect Heather's experience, but she couldn't help feeling a little frustrated with the Ranger's firmness. It was like she was their new troop leader and wasn't taking any suggestions from the peanut gallery. She had them up at dawn, working on fortifications and gathering supplies. They were all exhausted but Heather didn't let up.
On the third morning at the summer camp, they ran out of food. It was inevitable, what with them eating from a vending machine.
Quinn volunteered to head into the forest to look for something. She figured her Tracker ability might come in handy. Ethan and Jake agreed to go with her.
Heather handed Jake a machete they found in the ground keeper's shed. "I should go with you too" she said, not liking sending the three teenagers out there alone.
Quinn shook her head. "You're the only one who knows how to use that shotgun".
She pointed to the gun sitting on the table nearby. It was the one that hand been missing from the ranger station gun cabinet, the one Keith had said she took with her. They didn't have a lot of ammo for it but hopefully they wouldn't need to use it anytime soon.
They set out, Jake taking point with the machete Heather had given him. It felt heavy and unfamiliar in his hands, but he knew he'd need it if they encountered any more of those things. Quinn followed closely with the baseball bat in one hand and a hunting knife in the other, feeling the weight of the weapon and wondering if it would be enough. Behind them, Ethan had his bow of course and a quiver full of his own arrows and the ones he retrieved from the Ogre corpses.
The forest was dense and foreboding just like before. Quinn reached out with her Tracker ability, hoping to pinpoint food. The trees whispered secrets that she couldn't quite understand, but she felt a pull to the right, where the underbrush was thickest.
"I think there's something that way" she said, hopeful.
They all turned and started walking, but before they had gone twenty feet into the forest, she felt it. That tingling, the same one that had helped her find her way to the ranger station. But it was different this time. It wasn't a sense of comfort or direction, it was a warning.
"Guys, stop" she said suddenly, holding up a hand.
They did, looking around nervously.
"What is it?" whispered Jake, his grip tightening on the machete.
Quinn's eyes widened as she stared at the spot where the sensation grew stronger. "We're not alone," she murmured, her heart racing.
Suddenly, a hooded figure dropped down from the tree directly in their path. The figure's bow was drawn, taut with an arrow that gleamed with an unearthly light. Before they could react, more shadows detached themselves from the foliage around them, each revealing a similar archer poised for attack. The three friends found themselves surrounded in a ring of tense silence, the air thick with the promise of danger.
"Lower your weapons, Outworlders" said a voice in distinct English.
The severity of the situation struck Quinn with an overwhelming sense of awe and confusion.
Outworlders, they called them Outworlders.
What did that even mean?
To Be Continued
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
He actually jumped.
Living with other people was still something new to him. Katie was a new stepsister, her Dad, Doug, and Cameron's mom, Allison, just got married last month. Cameron still wasn't used to all of this. Before, it was just him and his Mom. They lived in a two bedroom apartment in the city. His Mom and Doug had been dating for over a year, both widowers, they met at a conference. He knew it had been getting serious, but he never thought they'd actually get married.
The smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air as Cameron left the bathroom, making a beeline for his room.
The house was new, having just been finished building a week ago. After they announced their engagement, Doug and his Mom decided they needed a bigger home for their larger family. It didn't take long to make the arrangements and Cameron moved from the downtown city life he'd always known to a quiet, tranquil life in the suburbs.
Cameron's room was his sanctuary, the one place where he could escape from the unfamiliar faces and surroundings. It was cluttered with video games and streaming equipment, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern decor of the rest of the house. He flopped onto his bed, feeling the weight of the new responsibilities and expectations that came with being part of a blended family.
He'd always been a bit of a loner, preferring the company of his virtual friends and online games to the real world. But now, with a new dad and a stepsister who was always eager to chat, he felt the pressure to fit in and make connections. He knew that his love for gaming was something that set him apart from the kids at his new school, but he couldn't just give it up. It was his passion, and maybe, just maybe, it could be his ticket to fame and fortune.
So, he turned to his streaming setup, his eyes lighting up as he powered on his computer and slipped on his headset. He'd been streaming for fun for a while, but now he had a new goal in mind: to become the next big thing in the gaming world. He'd seen other streamers with millions of followers, making a living off playing games and interacting with fans. He dreamed of the day when he could do the same.
As he set up his webcam and adjusted the lighting, he took a deep breath. It was time to start anew. But when he went live, there was no one, like usual. Not even his friends were there today. Sighing, he shut everything off, once again disappointed that no one wanted to watch an amateur stream Danger Zone, the big Battle Royale zombie survival game that was currently sweeping across the world.
It was a shame too. His whole set up was state of the art and brand new, a gift and possibly a bribe from Doug as compensation for dragging Cameron away from his home and friends.
But he wasn't about to let it get to him. He had a plan. He'd read somewhere that playing games that were less popular could help a streamer stand out. So, he decided to pivot to a different game genre, something that was growing in popularity but hadn't hit the mainstream yet. He settled on a new indie game, "Chronicles of Borenia." It was a fantasy RPG that had been generating a buzz in the gaming community for its unique usage of soul-bound items,and its immersive world.
Cameron spent hours researching the game, watching YouTube tutorials, and reading strategy guides. He practiced in private, honing his skills and developing a charismatic online persona. He knew that if he could make people laugh or feel invested in his journey, they'd keep coming back for more.
But the problem wasn't his personality, at least he didn't think it was. The problem was his look. While not overly short, he wasn't exactly tall. He was average. Everything about him was average. That is except for his face. He blamed it on his genes. His maternal grandmother was white but his grandfather was Korean. Which was already one nail in the coffin but then his mother had to go and marry his Dad, another Korean. Because of that he had a very soft, almost angelic looking feminine face.
Cameron had always been aware of his looks. Growing up he was teased by other kids, called names like "Cammy" and "Cameron-Chan" because of his looks. To keep people from noticing, he generally wore big black rim glasses and let his hair cover most of his face. It wasn't ideal but it was better than the alternative. It was even better now because he was no longer in Middle School and was starting fresh in high school with brand new people he'd never met before.
He decided to go live again, this time with "Chronicles of Borenia". He had practiced enough, and was feeling pretty confident in his ability to play the game. He wore a hoodie, hoping that would help disguise his features. As he started playing, he was surprised to see that people were actually joining his stream. They weren't just joining, they were interacting with him.
Then he realized it was the three guys he met at school today---Max, Freddie and TJ.
"What the heck, guys?" he exclaimed, surprised to see them.
"Yo, Cam-Cam, we had no idea you were into this game," Max typed.
Why were they calling him "Cam-Cam"?
Cameron's heart raced as he read the chat. He didn't know how they'd found his stream, but he was grateful for the familiar faces. He took a moment to compose himself, then responded, "Yeah, just trying something new."
"Nice," Freddie said, "I've heard good things about it. Mind if we watch?"
Cameron nodded, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. He'd never had an audience before, especially not from school. He took a deep breath and focused on the game, hoping his nerves wouldn't show.
The game was a hit. His friends were glued to the screen, cheering him on as he navigated through the mystical lands of Borenia.
The next day, Katie gave him a ride to school. Everyone looked at him curiously, no doubt wondering who the dweeb was with the most popular girl in school. Even his friends stopped him in the hall to ask him, wondering what he was doing with Katie Patricks.
"She's my sister." he said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Max gave him a strange look, no doubt realizing their differences. "Were you adopted?"
Cameron laughed. "Sorry, stepsister. Her Dad married my Mom over the summer."
The boys nodded, still a bit surprised.
The subject quickly switched to his streaming.
"It's pretty cool," TJ said, "I've never met a streamer before."
"Yeah," Max chimed in, "I watch a couple of guys on Cargo, but I've never actually talked to one."
Cargo was the popular streaming app that everyone used.
"Guys, I'm not some big gamer. You're the first people who've ever watched me play!"
"That's what makes it cool!" exclaimed Max, slapping him on the back. "You're like the underdog we can root for."
Freddie nodded in agreement, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, we can be like your entourage, spread the word about your streams."
Cameron felt a mix of excitement and dread. He hadn't told anyone at school about his streaming hobby, let alone that he was trying to make it big. But having his friends' support could be a game-changer.
"So, what's your in-game name?" Max asked, leaning against his locker.
Cameron hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no harm in sharing. "It's 'CammyChanPlayz'," he mumbled, hoping his voice wouldn't give him away.
"CammyChan?" TJ repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "Dude, that's like the girliest gamer name ever."
Cameron felt his cheeks burn. He'd picked the name because it was a play on the teasing he'd gotten in the past, but he hadn't anticipated having to explain it to anyone. "Inside joke" he mumbled, trying to play it off.
Over the next week or so, his life settled into a pretty normal routine. He made a deal with his mother that he'd only stream on weekends, so the rest of the week was just school and homework. On the next stream weekend, his new friends convinced him to go back to Danger Zone. Cameron convinced them that it would be really cool if they had a party and played together. That’s how they spent all Friday night, slaying zombies, building a base and killing any trolls who tried to mess with them.
The next week was also pretty boring too.
But Friday afternoon, in PE class, disaster struck. A stray basketball smacked into the side of his face, breaking his glasses and sending him tumbling to the floor. The gym echoed with the sound of his impact. The guy who threw the ball, Alex, a basketball jock with biceps the size of watermelons, came sprinting over to help him up.
"Oh shit, dude, I'm so sorry," Alex said, his eyes widening when he saw Cameron's face without the shield of his glasses.
Cameron's heart sank. He had always feared the moment when someone from school would see him without them. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he took the offered hand and stood up. The gym teacher rushed over, looking concerned. "Are you okay, Cameron?"
He nodded. "I'm good, sir"
"Cooper, take hi--er---them to the nurse's office to get some ice on that bruise!"
Alex looked at him, apologetic. "Sorry, man."
Cameron waved it off, feeling his cheek swell. "It's cool."
Alex did what Coach Henderson---the gym teacher asked.
The two of them walked in silence.
"Sorry about the glasses, I can pay for them, probably." said Alex, towering over Cameron as they walked down the hall side by side.
"Don't worry about it," Cameron replied, his voice a little shakier than he'd like. "They were cheap anyway."
"Do you at least have contacts?"
Cameron shook his head. "No, I've never gotten around to getting them."
In truth, the glasses were actually fake but he didn't want anyone to know about that little secret.
The nurse, Mrs. Castellanos, asked him to sit down so she could take a look. With a gentle touch, she moved some hair out of his face to take a better look at his bruised cheek. She touched it and he winced. "Does that hurt, sweetie?"
Cameron nodded, feeling like an idiot. "A little."
She swapped it with some alcohol. "It should be fine in a few days, but it’s probably gonna leave a nasty black and blue bruise for a few days. A little makeup, a pretty thing like you will look better in no time."
Cameron nodded. He learned long ago to try and not correct people. It usually led to awkwardness and embarrassment for everyone, but mostly him. Thankfully, Alex wasn't nearby to hear him called "pretty". Cameron had met a lot of jocks in his day and once they realized he was a boy with a girly face, it was like blood in the water.
The nurse handed him an ice pack and sent him back to class with a pat on the back. He felt like everyone was staring at him as he walked back into the gym, his cheek throbbing and his heart racing. He could feel the bruise swelling and knew that by tomorrow it would be a lovely shade of purple.
When Katie saw the bruise later, she hugged him. He wasn't sure how to react to that. He wasn't used to hugs. "I heard. Brian was playing with Alex."
Brian was Katie's boyfriend. He was a senior. Cameron had met him once at a family dinner a couple of weeks ago, he seemed like a pretty chill dude.
"So, you know Alex, huh?" Cameron asked, trying to play it cool.
"Yeah, he's a sweetie. He felt really bad about it," Katie said, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Brian talked to him after practice. He said he's going to stop by this weekend to apologize again in person."
Cameron felt his cheeks redden. He didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't like he was expecting a personal apology from the school's basketball star. "It's okay, really. It's just a bruise and he already apologized like five times."
Katie laughed. "Well, he's not just any boy. He's actually pretty popular. Most girls would love to get hit by him."
Cameron rolled his eyes. "I'm not a girl, Katie."
She giggled nervously. "Wow, I'm sorry...it’s just...you're such a cutie, even I forget sometimes."
The comment stung a bit but he let it slide.
At home, his dad looked at the bruise. He was a neurosurgeon. He gave Cameron a thorough check up too, scared that there might be a concussion as well but Cameron seemed all right.
"It's just a bruise, don't worry about it," Cameron said, trying to shrug it off.
But his mother, Allison, couldn't help but worry. She saw the way her stepson's eyes flickered with discomfort every time someone mentioned it. She knew the teasing he faced at school was nothing new, but she hoped that with the new environment and the support of his new friends, things would get better.
Later that night, Cameron groaned as he sat in front of his computer. Without his glasses, he felt exposed, like the entire world could see his secret. Katie, who had been watching him fuss all evening, bounded into his room with a mischievous smile.
"I have just the thing," she said, holding up a makeup kit. "I'll show you how to cover that bruise up. You'll be good as new for your stream."
Cameron eyed the kit warily. He'd never worn makeup before, and the idea of putting it on for his stream made him feel even more vulnerable. But with a deep breath, he nodded. He needed to keep his viewers coming back, and if a little concealer could help him do that, so be it.
Katie chattered away as she sat him down at his desk, pulling out brushes and tubes of makeup with confidence. She'd always been a bit of a beauty queen, her vanity filled with more products than a department store. "You're going to be so cute," she said, her voice soothing as she dabbed the cool concealer on his cheek.
Cameron felt his stomach turn. He had always been self-conscious about his looks, and now he was going to be broadcasting them, uncovered, to the world. But he didn't want to disappoint his new friends, so he gritted his teeth and let his sister work her magic.
Katie carefully applied the makeup, her eyes focused on the task at hand. She talked him through the process, explaining the importance of blending and the right amount of pressure to apply, which thankfully didn’t make the bruise hurt. He watched in the mirror as she transformed the bruise into nothing more than a faint shadow. It was surprisingly easy to cover up.
"And now for those dry lips," she said, applying a layer of clear lip balm.
"What the hell, Katie?" he snapped but she playfully giggled.
"I got carried away a tiny bit." she said as she packed up her stuff.
"It's fine," Cameron replied, trying not to let his annoyance show. "I guess it looks okay."
"You're going to rock it!" Katie said, giving him an encouraging wink before leaving the room.
Cameron took a deep breath and turned on his webcam. The lights were a bit too bright, making him squint without his glasses. He logged into his Cargo account and went live, his heart racing as he saw the view count slowly tick up. His friends had promised to spread the word, and it looked like they had come through. There were at least 12 people watching tonight. His all-time high.
He launched into Danger Zone, his voice a little shakier than usual. The game was his escape, but now it felt like he was letting people into his most private sanctuary. The chat was filled with messages of support and questions about his strategy. His confidence restored, he started to lay out his game plan.
"Guys, tonight, we're going full stealth," he whispered into the mic, his eyes scanning the virtual horizon for threats. His friends cheered him on, and even though they couldn't hear them, their presence in the chat made him feel less alone.
As he played, he noticed that people were actually watching and engaging with his stream. The comments started rolling in faster than he could read them. He felt a thrill of excitement as he saw his follower count creep up. Maybe this was the start of something big.
But the excitement was short-lived as he heard someone type "Is that a girl playing?" in the chat. His heart skipped a beat. He knew that once people realized he wasn't a girl, they might leave. But he had to keep playing. He couldn't let the fear of being outed ruin his moment.
"Hey she's pretty good" , typed another.
He tried to ignore it, focusing on the game, but the question grew louder in his mind with each passing second. The chat was now a flurry of confusion and speculation.
"Who's the chick with the cute voice?" someone new asked as they joined mid-stream an hour into it.
Cameron felt his heart drop into his stomach. He had to make a choice. He could either keep playing along or correct them. But if he corrected them, he risked losing his audience. His mind raced, trying to come up with a clever response that would maintain his cover. He decided in the end that this was too good an opportunity and couldn't pass it up, so he let the chat continue to think he was a girl.
The game went on, and despite the niggling fear in the back of his mind, Cameron found himself getting lost in the world of Danger Zone. He had a newfound energy, playing better than ever before. His follower count kept rising, and he got his first donation. It was exhilarating, watching his dream of becoming a big-time streamer inch closer and closer to reality.
But as the night went on, the comments grew more insistent. People were starting to question his gender because most of his face was concealed by his hood, and he knew he couldn't keep it up forever. With a deep breath, he decided to lean into it. He'd always loved the idea of being underestimated and then proving people wrong. He wasn't sure where this newfound confidence was suddenly coming from but he kinda liked it.
"Well, I'm not just a pretty face," he quipped into the microphone, his voice a perfect blend of coyness and sarcasm. The chat exploded with laughter and emojis. "I've got some serious skills to show off tonight."
He played for a couple more hours then logged off for the night.
His heart pounded in his chest. Did he just fool all those guys into thinking he was a girl? And why did it give him such a rush?
Lying in bed that night, the glow of his computer screen cast eerie shadows on the walls of his room. He couldn't shake the feeling of exhilaration from his successful stream. But why did he let the lie go on? It was just easier, he told himself. No one knew who he was, and it was a chance to show off without the baggage of his past. Plus, it was kind of fun watching everyone's reactions.
On Monday at school, Max, Freddie, and TJ couldn't resist poking fun at the whole situation. They'd seen the comments in the chat and couldn't stop laughing. "Bro, everyone thinks you're a girl," Max said, slapping Cameron on the back.
"It's not that funny," Cameron grumbled, his cheeks flushing pink.
"Come on, man, it's hilarious," TJ said, slapping him on the shoulder. "They're all out there thinking you're some hot gamer girl."
Cameron shuddered at the thought. He knew what kind of gamer girls that men fantasized about.
"Dude, you gotta keep it up!" Max said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Imagine the reactions when they find out you're not a girl."
Cameron rolled his eyes. "Trust me, been there, done that. I have the therapy bills to back it up."
Max leaned in closer. "But, it's like a secret identity, bro. Like Batman or something!"
"No, like Cammychan!" said TJ as he burst out into laughter.
Cameron couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed at his friends' relentless teasing. The whole week went like this. It was like they wouldn’t talk about anything else except for the fact that some of his viewers had mistaken him for a girl.
But when the weekend finally rolled around, and he was ready to stream again, he was surprised to find that the number of viewers had doubled from the previous week. His heart raced as he saw the comments flood in, people eagerly awaiting the return of "Cammy".
He lightened the tone of his voice as he spoke to the chat before starting, "Alright, everyone, welcome back to CammyChanPlayz! I hope you all had a fantastic week and are ready for some more zombie-slaying action." His heart thudded in his chest, expecting the worst. But instead, the chat was filled with excitement and support. It seemed that his little masquerade had only piqued their interest more.
The game was intense, with hordes of zombies and other players to fend off. The adrenaline rush from Danger Zone was nothing compared to the rush he got from the chat's reactions to his every move. It was like he was in the school play, only this was a stage with real live feedback. And the audience was loving it.
He had Katie conceal his bruise again before the stream, she added the lip balm again too. He'd gotten a couple of compliments in the chat, which made him feel both embarrassed and oddly...happy? He had never really gotten compliments on his looks before, not unless they were meant to be insults wrapped in "you're pretty for a boy" kind of way.
As he played, he felt a sense of liberation. He didn't have to be the shy, awkward kid with the "girl's face" anymore. He could be "Cammy", the mysterious gamer with the cute voice and surprisingly good skills. The comments about his looks had turned into something positive, and it was weirdly exhilarating.
The only complaints he saw were about the hood and everyone wanting to see "her" face more.
Cameron bit his lip, his heart racing. He'd never shown his face on stream before, and the thought of revealing himself was terrifying. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd built a wall around himself with the hoodie. He was hiding. He just wasn't ready to reveal himself to the world. Maybe he could think of something for next weekend.
The stream went on without any further incidents. His friends were great sports, playing along with the gag, and even his stepfather checked in occasionally to make sure he was okay.
Cameron had to admit, the attention was addictive. The more he played, the more he enjoyed the ruse. It was like he was living a double life, and he was surprisingly good at it. He had to be careful not to let it take over, though. He didn't want to become a full-time liar, especially not to these strangers.
On Monday morning, the school buzzed with whispers about the mysterious "Cammy" who had taken the gaming world by storm. The rumors had spread like wildfire, and everyone had an opinion. Some talked about his supposedly cute voice, others about his surprisingly good gameplay.
Cameron walked through the halls, trying to blend in, his heart racing every time he heard his in-game name. He felt a strange mix of excitement and fear. The idea that his classmates were talking about him in a positive light was alien, but the fear of being discovered was ever-present.
"Did you see Cammy's stream last night?" a group of girls giggled as they passed by.
Cameron felt his cheeks burn. He'd never been talked about like this before. It was weird, but he kind of liked it. But then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to be talked about at all.
When he got home from school, Katie was waiting for him in the living room, her eyes glued to her phone. She looked up as he entered, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Hey, Cammy," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Cameron froze, his backpack slipping from his shoulders. "What?" he squeaked.
Katie held up her phone, the screen displaying a recording of him playing Danger Zone. "I couldn't help but notice the uncanny resemblance," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I mean this girl is wearing your hoodie..."
Cameron felt his heart stop. "What... what do you mean?" He stuttered, trying to play dumb.
"Cam, relax, I'm not going to out you." she said, lowering her phone.
Cameron let out a sigh of relief. "It's just... it's complicated," he said, dropping down onto the couch next to her.
Katie nodded, her expression softening. "I get it," she said. "But you're good, really good. And people like you. You don't have to hide under that hoodie, you know."
Cameron sighed. "It's just...easier, I guess."
"Let me guess, you don't want people to know it's you, right?"
Cameron nodded. "Exactly."
Katie got a mischievous smile on her face. "Well that's easy!"
She jumped to her feet, grabbed his arms and pulled him up from the couch. "C'mon, little sis, let me show you how pretty you can be!"
Cameron felt his stomach drop. "What? No way, Katie, I'm not doing that!"
But Katie was insistent, pulling him down the hallway to her bedroom. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, if you're going to keep this up, you need to look the part!"
Reluctantly, Cameron followed her into a room that smelled faintly of perfume and hairspray. The walls were plastered with posters of pop stars and fashion icons, and a large vanity hadn’t changed from his previous impressions of it, laden with makeup, hair products, and glitter. Katie pushed him into the vanity’s chair and began rummaging through her drawers.
"What are you doing?" Cameron protested, his voice high with anxiety.
"Trust me, you're going to thank me for this," Katie said, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Cameron's stomach churned as he stared at his reflection. He'd never been one for makeup or fashion, but there was something about the way Katie talked about it that made him feel like he could do this. Like it was all just a game, and if he played along, he might just win.
So he sat there, in Katie's glitzy bedroom, as she painted his face with a grace that seemed almost alien. Foundation, blush, eyeshadow, all of it was applied with a deft touch that left him feeling both uncomfortable and oddly pampered. She talked him through each step, explaining how to enhance his features himself without making it look like he was wearing a mask.
"You've got such amazing skin," she said, her brush feathering against his cheek. "It's a crime to hide it behind those glasses all the time."
Cameron couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the compliment. It had been a long time since anyone had said anything nice about his looks without it being a backhanded remark.
"Well, thanks to Alex, I don't have to worry about those anymore." he said with a huff.
Katie paused her makeup brush, looking at him in the mirror with a sad smile. "It's not all bad, you know. You're kind of pretty," she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Cameron couldn't help but smirk. "Thanks, I guess."
Katie rolled her eyes. "You're welcome. Now hold still," she said as she applied the final touches of mascara. "There," she announced, stepping back to admire her work. "You're ready for your close-up."
Cameron looked in the mirror, barely recognizing the person staring back at him. The bruise was gone, replaced by a flawless complexion. His eyes looked bigger, and his cheekbones more defined. There was a pretty Half-Korean girl staring at him.
"Wow, Katie, I had no idea you were such a pro at this," he said, his voice filled with both amazement and a hint of nervousness.
"An artist is only as good as her canvas." she said, squeezing his shoulder gently.
"Well, I'm not exactly a canvas," Cameron retorted, feeling a bit like a fish out of water in the sea of pink and glitter.
"You're more like a blank slate," Katie corrected, her voice light and teasing. "And now we've turned you into a masterpiece."
Cameron couldn't argue with that. He looked... different. Not like a girl, but not entirely like himself either. He felt a strange sense of power seeing himself like this. Like he could be anyone he wanted to be.
"So, what do you think?" Katie asked, holding up her phone with a selfie camera open.
Cameron leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting his new look. The makeup was surprisingly subtle, but it did make a difference. He looked...less like himself. Less like the kid who got teased at school. Less like the boy with the girl's face and more like a girl with, well… a girl face.
A snap and flash made him jump.
"Are you taking pics?" he asked, a bit annoyed.
"I want one of my new little step-sis," she teased.
Cameron's heart raced. "Knock it off, Katie. It's not funny."
She frowned. "Party pooper."
But she put the phone down and gave him a hug. "Look, I know it's weird. I wanted to show you your potential. If you want my help, we can do this this Friday before your stream. Cammy doesn't have to wear that hood anymore and people can finally stop wondering?"
Cameron took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, deal."
Friday night rolled around, and his heart was racing as he knocked on Katie's door. She opened it with a wide smile, her room already set up with lights and her makeup kit sprawled out on her vanity.
"Ready for your transformation?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Cameron took a deep breath and nodded. He felt a weird mix of fear and excitement. Katie had promised that the makeup would be minimal, just enough to cover the bruise and enhance his features. But the thought of showing his face, even if it was with a layer of makeup, was nerve-wracking.
Just like when he’d last seen it, Katie's room was like a mini salon, complete with a ring light and a chair in front of her vanity. She gestured for him to sit down, and he did so tentatively. She began by gently brushing his hair, which was always a mess from his constant tugging when he was stressed. She talked to him the whole time, keeping the mood light and making him feel at ease.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" she asked as she worked on his hair. "Anything new you want to try?"
Cameron shrugged. "I thought I'd stick to the basics. Big face reveal and all," he said, his voice quivering.
Katie nodded, her expression growing more serious. "Okay, let's do this," she said, picking up a tube of concealer.
Cameron watched in the mirror as she applied it with a gentle touch, the bruise slowly fading away. She added a bit of blush to his cheeks and a smudge of eyeliner, making his eyes pop. She worked quickly and efficiently, her movements sure and confident.
"Okay, now for the grand finale," she said, picking up a tube of lip gloss.
Cameron swallowed hard. "Do I really need this?"
"Trust me, it'll make a difference," Katie assured him, her voice soothing. "You're going to blow them away."
Katie took a step back and gave him a good long look. He definitely looked like a girl but she was sure they could sell it more. Thinking about it, she rummaged in her bra drawer, grabbing one and her little gel inserts. Then she got an old off shoulder top she barely wore anymore. She turned to Cameron and took a deep breath.
"Now hear me out before you freak," she said, holding up the bra. She saw the color drain from his face. "It's all part of the illusion. Bra on, inserts for boobies. It's the illusion of the bumps that will sell it way more than anything else."
Cameron stared at her, his mouth slightly open. "But...why?"
"You want to keep the charade going, right?" Katie said with a knowing smile. "And if people are going to think you're a girl, you might as well lean into it. Besides, it'll be a hoot to see everyone's reactions."
Cameron felt his heart racing as he took the items from her outstretched hands. He knew she had a point, but the thought of wearing a bra and fake boobs was surreal. Still, the desire to maintain his online persona was stronger than his fear of embarrassment. He took a deep breath and agreed to her plan.
Katie helped him put on the bra, her movements surprisingly gentle. The gel inserts felt strange against his chest, but he couldn't deny that they did add a certain...fullness to his profile. He slipped on the off-shoulder top, feeling the fabric cling to his body in a way that was both foreign and oddly appealing.
"Wow," he murmured, looking at his reflection.
Katie beamed at him. "Told you. Now, let's get you streaming," she said, taking a step back to admire her handiwork.
Cameron took another deep breath, trying to ignore the unfamiliar weight on his chest, and made his way to his room. He sat down in front of the camera, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd never felt so exposed in his life.
"Okay, everyone," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "It's time for the big reveal." He reached up and slowly pulled off the hoodie, his heart racing as he saw the reactions in the chat. The room was silent except for the rustling of the fabric and the click of his mouse.
The camera focused on his face, the makeup glinting under the lights. He took a deep breath and began to explain. "I know you guys have had a lot of fun guessing, but I've decided it's time to show you the real me," he said, his voice a perfect blend of shyness and confidence.
The chat erupted into a frenzy of excitement and anticipation. The emojis and comments flew by at a dizzying speed, but Cameron kept his cool, his hands steady as he began to remove the hoodie. He felt like he was in a movie, the tension building as he revealed his true self to his devoted fans.
There he was, "Cammy", the girl with the cute voice and surprisingly good gaming skills, now with a face to match. The makeup was subtle, but it transformed him into someone else entirely. The gel pads had done their job, giving him the illusion of feminine curves.
Cameron took a deep breath, his heart racing as he saw the number of viewers spike. He didn't know if it was excitement or fear, but he was definitely feeling alive. The chat was a whirlwind of "Oh my gods" and "Wow, she's gorgeous" and "Best reveal ever". It was like a storm of compliments, and he couldn't help but bask in the glow of it all.
He began to play, his hands a blur on the keyboard as he dove back into the world of Danger Zone. The game was intense, but it was nothing compared to the battle raging in his own mind. He was playing as himself now, or at least as close to himself as he could be while wearing makeup and a bra stuffed with gel.
As he played, he couldn't help but peek at the chat. The comments about his looks had turned into a full-blown love fest. "Cammy, you're so pretty!" "Marry me!" "You're the hottest gamer I've ever seen!" It was overwhelming, but he found himself smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he'd painted on earlier.
His friends, Max, Freddie, and TJ, had even joined the chat, playing along with the ruse. They were cheerleading him on, using the same pet names they did in real life, but with a new twist. It was all so surreal.
"Cammy, you're totally slaying this!" Max typed.
"Thanks, guys," Cameron replied, trying to keep his voice light and airy, hoping it would match the persona he had created. The game was intense, with zombies and players alike closing in on him. His heart pounded with every close call, and the adrenaline rush from the game combined with the thrill of his new look made him feel invincible.
But as the night went on, the comments grew bolder. Some viewers were asking for more revealing angles, for him to show off his "body." He felt his stomach churn at the thought of taking it that far, but the fear of losing his newfound audience was stronger. He had to keep them engaged.
"Hey dude," he said, turning so his bare shoulder was exposed. "How much more skin do you want?"
The chat exploded with laughter, and the requests for more skin stopped immediately. He was relieved, but also a little disappointed. He'd never felt this kind of power before, and it was intoxicating.
Cameron continued to play, his heart racing with every victory and defeat. The makeup and gel pads had become a part of him, a costume that he'd grown to enjoy. He'd never felt more confident in his life.
But as the hours ticked by, the novelty began to wear off. The weight of the gel inserts grew heavier, and the makeup started to feel like a mask. He was sweating under the lights, and his skin itched with the unfamiliar sensation of foundation and powder.
"I think we need to end it here tonight boys."
Cameron's voice was steady, but inside, he was a mess. The rush of adrenaline was wearing off, and the reality of his situation was setting in. He'd never felt so...so many things at once. He'd never felt so alive, so powerful, so...fake. The makeup was starting to run down his face, and the gel pads were sticking to his skin. He was tired, and he missed being just Cameron.
He ended the stream with a promise to his viewers that he'd be back next week with more surprises. As soon as the camera was off, he peeled off the gel pads and tossed the bra aside, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back. The makeup was smeared, and his hair was a mess, but he couldn't deny that the experience had changed him.
His phone buzzed with texts from Max, Freddie, and TJ, each one more shocked and confused than the last. "WTF was that?" "Bro, are you okay?" "Did you just come out?" The messages were a blur of excitement and concern. He chuckled to himself, knowing he'd have some explaining to do.
Cameron took a deep breath and texted back, "It's a long story. Let's talk tomorrow?" He needed some time to process the evening's events before facing his friends' reactions. The thought of explaining his decision to them was daunting, but he knew they'd support him, or at least they'd pretend to.
Monday at school, the hallways were buzzing with the news of "Cammy's" unveiling. Cameron felt a mix of excitement and dread as he walked to his locker, the whispers and glances following him like a shadow. When he saw Max, Freddie, and TJ huddled together, he nodded and waved.
"Hey, guys," he said casually as he approached them, trying to act as if nothing had changed.
Max looked at him, his eyes wide. "Dude, what the hell was that?"
Cameron took a deep breath, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions. "It's a long story," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But it was all Katie's idea."
Max's eyebrows shot up. "Your step-sister?"
Cameron nodded, his cheeks heating up. "Yeah, she's the mastermind behind it all." He recounted the weekend's events, from the moment Katie had discovered his secret to the transformation she had orchestrated. His friends' expressions shifted from shock to amusement as he spoke, and by the time he finished, they were all laughing.
"Dude, that's messed up," TJ said, shaking his head. "But also kind of genius."
"It's not that big of a deal," Cameron shrugged, trying to play it cool. But inside, he was buzzing with a weird mix of excitement and dread.
Max leaned in, curiosity piqued. "So, Katie figured out your little secret?"
Cameron nodded, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah, someone stream-clipped me, she saw it and recognized the hoodie," he admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. "But she's cool about it. She even said she'd help me keep the act going."
Freddie snickered. "Your step-sister's got more guts than you do, man."
Cameron rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "I guess so," he said, opening his locker. "But it's working, right?"
"Dude, you're like the next big thing," Max said, slapping him on the back. "I can't believe people think you're a girl."
"Shhh" he said, lowering his voice. "Keep it down. Right now you guys and Katie are the only ones who know. I'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much."
Freddie smacked him playfully on the arm. "Well, your secret's safe with us, 'Cammy'."
Max leaned in, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But we totally get a backstage pass to all the makeup tutorials, right?"
Cameron stuck his tongue out but joined them in their playful laughter.
As the month rolled on, "Cammy" grew into a phenomenon. His fan base skyrocketed, and his streams became the hottest ticket in the school's social scene. Each week brought new challenges, but with Katie's help, he managed to keep his secret and maintain the persona. The excitement of his online life began to bleed into his real one, and he found himself looking forward to the transformation into "Cammy" with a mix of nerves and giddiness. The popularity was a heady drug, and he couldn't get enough of it.
It also strengthened his bond with his stepsister, which definitely made his mother and Doug happy.
One day in mid-October, Katie looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, Cammy," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and challenge, "I think it's time for you to take this show on the road."
Cameron's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"
Katie's grin widened. "I think it's time for 'Cammy' to make some public appearances," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "We could go to the mall, maybe even the game store. Be a normal girl."
He gave her a look. "Newsflash, Katie, I'm neither normal nor a girl."
"That's where the fun part comes in," she said, winking. "Think of it as a new character for Halloween. Only it's real life. And you get to be the belle of the ball."
Cameron stared at her, his mind racing. "But Katie, what if someone from school sees me?"
She shrugged. "So what. It’s not like anyone would ever be able to connect Cameron---the shy, quiet kid with the smexy, super cute girl you become."
Cameron felt his heart race at the thought. "But what if they do?"
His stepsister sighed, dropping onto his bed next to him. "Then we deal with it when it comes." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I've seen it Cam, I've seen the look in your eye. When you're streaming, playing "Cammy", you come alive. Don't you want to explore that and see if there's more to it than just make-believe?"
Cameron thought about it for a moment, the thrill of being someone else. Someone who didn't get picked on, someone who people actually liked, maybe even envied. It was a tempting offer.
After some time internally debating it, he sighed. "Ok but just this once."
"Oh you won't regret this little sis!"
Famous last words, he thought.
Katie’s plotting went into overdrive, her eyes gleaming with excitement every time she talked about their next big plan. And when she dragged him into her room early on Saturday morning, her enthusiasm was contagious. On her bed lay a package, wrapped in shiny pink paper with a bow on top.
"What's this?" Cameron asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Katie's grin grew wider as she pushed the present towards him. "Open it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Cameron's hands trembled as he carefully untied the bow and peeled back the paper. Inside, he found two small, squishy objects wrapped in tissue paper. He pulled them out, his eyes widening in shock. "Boobs?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Breast forms, idiot."
Katie’s voice was filled with mirth as she watched the look of shock on Cameron's face. "They're like stick-on boobs," she explained, her voice bubbly. "They're perfect for a half-Asian girl like you," she said, "small B-cup."
"What?"
She sighed. "Nevermind that." She handed him a can of something called Nair. "Go shower, lather up with this."
The look she gave him was one of determination. He didn't want to argue so he did as she told him.
In the shower, the scent of Nair filled the small space, making him cough. He carefully lathered it over his arms and legs, feeling a bit like a science experiment gone wrong. The cold gel clung to his skin, and as he washed it off, he was shocked to see his body hair going along with it.
The water washed away the last of the Nair, leaving his skin smooth and bare. He stepped out of the shower, feeling more exposed than ever before. He had never paid much attention to his body hair, but now, without it, he felt naked.
Katie was waiting outside the bathroom, her eyes alight with anticipation. "How was it?" she asked, holding out a towel for him.
Cameron took the towel, feeling a little dizzy. "It was...weird," he said, wrapping it around his waist. "I didn't know I had so much hair."
Katie giggled. "Well, now you're as smooth as a dolphin," she said, leading him back to her room.
He sat down on her bed, feeling vulnerable and oddly free at the same time. She pulled out the breast forms from the tissue paper and held them up. "Okay, so these go right here," she instructed, placing them on his chest.
They were surprisingly light and flexible, molding to the shape of his body. "It feels weird," he murmured, his cheeks burning.
"Try 24/7 without the ability to take them off."
Katie’s words echoed in his head as she handed him the outfit. It was a simple crop top and a miniskirt, something that would show off his newfound "assets" without being too revealing.
He looked at the outfit with a mix of excitement and fear. "I don't know if I can pull this off."
"Well duh, you need undies." she said, opening a new pack of panties.
Cameron felt his face heat up even more. "K-Katie, I can't wear those!"
But Katie was insistent. "Come on, it's all part of the experience," she coaxed, holding out a pair of lacy panties. "You want to be a girl for the day, you've got to go all in."
With a deep breath, Cameron took the panties from her. They felt softer than he had expected, almost delicate. He slipped them on, the fabric hugging his body in a way that was both strange and surprisingly comfortable. The breast forms fit snugly in the bra she had picked out, giving him a slight bust that felt surprisingly natural.
Katie helped him into the crop top, adjusting the straps until the forms were in place. The fabric was tight across his chest, but not painfully so. He looked down at himself, hardly recognizing the person in the mirror. The skirt was the final touch, and as he stepped into it, he felt a new kind of nervousness wash over him.
"Alright, now for the makeup," Katie said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She had a whole array of products laid out on her vanity, and Cameron couldn't help but feel like a doll being dressed up for a tea party.
He sat still as she applied foundation, blush, and mascara, her hands, as always, moving with the precision of an artist. She took her time, making sure everything was perfect. When she was finished, she stepped back and nodded with satisfaction.
"You're a natural," she said, handing him a tube of lip gloss. "Just put this on, and you're ready to go."
"What about my hair?"
"Aren't we the girly girl?" she said with a giggle. "We'll get that taken care of at the salon."
Cameron looked at her like she had lost her mind. "Salon?"
"Come on, Cammy," Katie coaxed, her voice dripping with excitement. "You want to look the part, don't you?"
Her enthusiasm was infectious as before, and despite his nerves, Cameron found himself nodding. "Okay," he said, his voice a little shakier than he would have liked. "Let's do this."
The drive to the mall was a blur of traffic and anticipation. Katie's car was a whirlwind of laughter and music, and Cameron couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. They parked in the lot, and the moment they stepped out of the car, the reality of what he was about to do hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked down at his outfit, the skirt fluttering around his legs, and took a deep breath.
"You ready?" Katie asked, her eyes gleaming.
"No." he said, glad she allowed him to wear sandals and not those horrible wedges.
Katie’s grin grew wider. "Come on, it'll be fun!" she exclaimed, practically pulling him through the crowded mall.
In the salon, the stylist's eyes widened when Katie told her the plan. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" she exclaimed, her scissors snipping away at Cameron's hair. He watched in the mirror as his usual messy fringe was replaced with a sleek, side-swept bang that framed his face in a way that made his eyes pop. His heart raced as the stylist finished with a flourish, the hair falling just right to cover his bruise. She trimmed his split ends too. Cameron always kept his hair long, past his shoulder blades and now that it was styled, it felt and looked so different.
Next was the makeup chair, where Katie had reserved a spot with her favorite artist. The makeup was heavier than what she had done at home, with bold strokes and dramatic eyeshadow that made his eyes look like deep pools of mystery. He was surprised at how much he liked the way he looked. The artist was gentle, her hands sure as she painted him into 'Cammy'.
Katie also instructed the woman to "shape his brows" and seconds later, she was painfully pulling hairs out of his eyebrows. When she was done, his eyebrows had a feminine arch. How in the hell was he going to hide that at school?
"Perfect," she said, standing back to admire her work. "You're going to break some hearts today."
Cameron felt a strange mix of excitement and dread as he looked in the mirror. He had never felt more feminine in his life, and the thought of walking around the mall like this was both thrilling and terrifying.
"Come on, let's go," Katie said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the salon. "We've got more shopping to do!"
"You're going to love this," Katie said, pulling him into the lingerie section of a store. He stared at the rows of lacy garments, feeling his cheeks heat up. "It's like playing dress-up, but better," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Cameron's hands trembled as he picked up a bra, the delicate fabric feeling foreign against his skin. He slipped into a changing room, the walls closing in around him as he stared at his reflection. He took a deep breath and put it on, the cups fitting snugly around the breast forms. The feeling was...strange, but not entirely unpleasant.
Katie waited outside, her laughter and encouragement echoing through the walls. He stepped out, and she squealed with delight. "You look amazing!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. The other shoppers glanced over, their eyes lingering on the 'girl' with the surprisingly convincing figure.
They moved on to the game store, and the moment they walked in, the atmosphere changed. The employees and regulars stared at Cameron like they knew him but couldn't place where. The whispers grew louder, and the stares were unmistakable. The weight of his secret grew heavier with each step, but the thrill of being recognized was undeniable.
"Oh my god, it's Cammy!" someone squealed from the back of the store, and suddenly, he was surrounded by fans. They gushed over his new look, asking for pictures and autographs. The attention was intoxicating, but the fear of being discovered was a constant buzz in his ear.
"You guys are amazing," he said, his voice high-pitched and flirty, playing the part flawlessly. His heart raced as he signed their game cases and posters, feeling the weight of his lie. He had never felt so alive, yet so trapped.
As they left the game store, Katie linked her arm through his. "You're a natural," she said, her voice filled with pride. "But we've got to get you walking like a girl," she whispered, poking his side gently.
Cameron rolled his eyes but took her advice, swaying his hips slightly and taking smaller steps. It was surprisingly easy to mimic her gait, and before he knew it, he was strutting down the mall corridor with an air of confidence he had never felt before.
The day passed in a blur of giggles, shopping bags, and secret smiles. They stopped for ice cream, and the way the cold treat melted on his tongue was somehow more delicious than it had ever been. He couldn't help but feel a little thrill every time someone called him 'miss' or 'ma'am'. It was like he was living in a dream, a world where he was accepted and admired for being someone he wasn't.
"You hungry?" asked his stepsister.
"We just had ice cream."
"That's not food, silly!" she said, slapping his arm gently.
Cameron's heart sank as they approached the food court. The smells of greasy burgers and sweet sugary treats filled the air, making his stomach growl. He scanned the area for a place to sit, feeling the weight of his 'Cammy' persona like a heavy cloak. He spotted a table in the corner, and they made their way over.
"I'll grab us some food," Katie said, winking at him and leaving.
Cameron's stomach churned as he searched for a table. The food court was a minefield of potential classmates and acquaintances. He spotted a table in the corner, slightly obscured by a giant potted plant, and made a beeline for it. As he sat down, the plastic chair squeaked under the weight of his anxiety. He glanced around, hoping no one would recognize him.
Just as he was about to take a deep breath and relax, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around, expecting the worst, only to find Alex standing there, his school bag slung over one shoulder. Alex's eyes lit up when he saw Cameron. "Cameron, that was you!"
Shit, shit, thought Cameron, internally panicking.
Alex had always been nice to him at school, but the idea of this jock knowing his secret was too much. He couldn't think of anything to say as Alex slid into the seat across from him, his eyes wide with excitement. "Wow, I never knew you had it in you," Alex said, grinning. "You look...amazing."
Cameron's heart raced. "Thanks," he managed to croak out, his voice a few octaves higher than usual.
Alex smirked. "Shedding the tomboy look, I see."
Cameron felt his cheeks burn. "I-it's not like that!"
He laughed. "My little sister was like you. Though she did it in Middle School."
"Hey Alex." said Katie, arriving at the perfect time with their tray of food. "Fancy seeing you here!"
Alex's eyes darted to her, then back to Cameron, then back to her again. "I had no idea you guys knew each other," he said, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"Of course we do silly!" said Katie, dropping into a seat. "We're sisters! Can't you see the family resemblance?"
Alex looked like a deer caught in headlights. I don't think he was usually used to Katie's teasing.
"We're step-sisters." Cameron quickly added. "Her Dad married my Mom over the summer"
Katie pouted. "Spoilsport."
They chit chatted with Alex for a bit while they ate. Cameron was trying to be friendly but he was really fucking scared too. Guys like Alex terrified him, even more so now that he kinda knew Cameron's secret.
As they were finishing up their meal, Alex leaned in and whispered to him. "I really do like that outfit. You should wear it during your next stream."
He winked, stood up, bid them farewell and left.
"Oh wow!" said Katie, gushing. "I think he likes you!"
Cameron flushed as red as the food tray. 'Oh, do you like him too?"
He threw a fry at her while she laughed.
After lunch, they finally ended their mall trip. They needed to get back home before their parents. Thankfully, they still had plenty of time. They took all of "Cammy's" clothes upstairs and put them in Katie's closet. Then Katie used a solvent to help him get the breast forms off, which they also put in her room. She showed him how to use cold cream to get off all the makeup, making sure he was thorough. Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do about his new hair, eyebrows or earrings.
Cameron went back to his room, fully converted back into his boy self. He laid on his bed for a long while, thinking about the day as a whole. He surprisingly had a lot of fun but the Alex thing was really confusing.
Dinner was tense. The smell of roast chicken filled the house but it was the question of his new brows and earrings that had him choking on the aroma.
"Cameron, sweetie, what happened to your eyebrows?" his mom asked, her eyes wide with concern.
"Funny story that." said Katie with a laugh. "We went to the mall. I had a salon appointment. The stylist saw Cam's brows and said they were unruly, and asked him if he wanted her to clean them up a bit. Well she went a bit too far because well, no offense to Cam, but he does look a bit like a girl..."
The room went quiet. Cameron felt his heart drop into his stomach.
"Allison, it's just for a bit," Katie said, her voice a little too bright. "You know how those salon people are. They get a little crazy with the tweezers."
Doug looked skeptical. "And the earrings?"
Katie's eyes lit up. "Oh, those! Well, we were passing by the accessory store and he saw them on sale. He begged me to let him get them. I figured it was just a phase, you know, like those mood rings from the '90s."
Doug laughed out loud. "Boys usually only get one ear done."
Cameron groaned. "Now you tell me."
His mother looked at him. She gave him a strange look but said nothing.
He inwardly sighed. They dodged a bullet but eventually he was going to have to confront what was going on here. This was all just supposed to be a fun project for gaming but it was turning into something more...permanent? The thing was, he wasn't sure how to react to it.
After dinner, Katie and Cameron went upstairs to do their homework while their parents stayed downstairs.
Allison turned to her husband. "There was no hair on his arms!" she said, not sure what to think.
Doug shook his head. "Kids and their stupid fads."
"I guess so?" Allison said, though she wasn't entirely convinced.
The next day at school, the whispers followed Cameron like a cloud of gossip. His classmates couldn't believe the transformation, and his friends were torn between awe and confusion. Max and Freddie gave him a thumbs up when they saw him, while TJ looked like he was trying not to laugh.
Miss George, the school guidance counselor, noticed the changes in Cameron too. She had a keen eye for when students were going through something, and the sudden shift in his appearance was a clear sign that something was up. She called him into her office during lunch, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Cameron, can you tell me what's been going on?" she asked gently, her voice like a warm hug.
He shifted in his seat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I-it's just a phase," he stumbled over the words, feeling the weight of his secret.
Miss George studied him with a knowing smile. "Phases can be good," she said. "They help us figure out who we are. But if it's more than that, or if you're feeling uncomfortable, you can always talk to me."
Cameron nodded, his throat tight. He didn't know how to explain that 'Cammy' was just a game, a way to boost his streaming numbers. But as he left her office, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it was more than that. Maybe 'Cammy' was a part of him that he was just now discovering.
That thought not only scared him but kinda excited him too.
As he walked through the halls, he couldn't help but feel a new sense of... something. Confidence maybe? But also fear. The fear of being found out. The fear of what people would say. But the excitement was intoxicating. It was like he was living a double life, and he didn't know which one he liked better.
At home, he'd log onto his computer and become Cammy again. The lights would dim, and the world would melt away as he slipped into his feminine persona. The chat would light up with excitement every time he logged in, and the donations would pour in. It was like he had discovered a superpower, one that came with its own set of responsibilities and risks.
But as Cameron's thoughts were a jumble, Cammy's online popularity was starting to climb. His streams were gaining more views, the donations were increasing, and his fan base was growing more devoted by the day. The rush of adrenaline was addictive, and he found himself spending more and more time perfecting his look, his voice, and his persona.
Katie helped where she could. Her makeup and wardrobe tips were fundamental in the beginning but as the weeks went on, he found himself seeking out things on his own. The internet was a treasure trove and it wasn't hard to find what he was looking for. At first he was like a baby bird just hopping out of the nest but after a few weeks, he was really starting to get the hang of things. Especially with the makeup. He even started to develop a style for Cammy without trying, mainly a dark smokey eye look but his fans seemed to enjoy it.
The mall trips with Katie grew more frequent, and it was during one of these trips that he found his muse. It was a store, right between the Gap and the food court, filled with band tees, studded belts, and a wall of fishnet stockings. It was like a punk rock shrine, and he was a devoted worshiper.
"What do you think of this?" he asked Katie, holding up a pair of fishnets with a rebellious smirk.
Her eyes widened. "Wow, that's...different," she said, sounding both surprised and impressed.
"I was thinking about giving Cammy her own style. I love the stuff you've picked out but I think as a gamer girl, she might be a bit edgy too"
Katies eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh, you mean like a goth-emo look?"
"Not really that far but kinda skirting that a bit"
"Oh, I like it!" she said, her voice a mix of surprise and approval. "Let's see what else we can find."
They spent hours in the store, trying on clothes that were a world away from the frilly dresses and crop tops Katie had picked out. The fishnets remained a staple, but now they were paired with band tees and studded belts. He found a leather jacket that fit him like a glove, the smell of new leather filling his nostrils as he zipped it up. Knee-high boots with chunky heels were surprisingly comfortable, and he felt a thrill as he strutted around the store, testing them out.
"You look like a rockstar," Katie said, holding up a pair of skinny black jeans with a torn knee. "These will be perfect."
Cameron took the jeans from her and slid them on over the fishnets. The material hugged his legs, and he felt a thrill as he checked himself out in the mirror. He had never worn anything so tight before, but as 'Cammy', it just felt right. The combination of the edgy look with the delicate makeup and long hair was a stark contrast that he found oddly satisfying.
Katie gave him a strange look. "You know Cam, I've been wondering about something. Those pants shouldn't be fitting you like that"
He turned and looked at his butt in the changing room mirror. "What do you mean?"
Katie bit her lip. "Well how do I put this, you have a girl's butt"
Cameron felt his cheeks turn redder than the streaks in his hair. "What?!"
Katie just nodded, her eyes wide with wonder. "Seriously, you do. It's like... you're a boy, but with a girl's butt," she said, her voice a mix of shock and admiration.
Cameron couldn't help but laugh, feeling a strange sense of pride. "I guess that's a good thing?"
Katie nodded but she wasn't so sure.
The next week at school, the whispers grew louder, and the stares were more blatant. Cameron's heart raced every time he heard someone mention 'Cammy' in the halls. The secret was becoming a part of him, weaving itself into the fabric of his identity. He couldn't help but feel a thrill every time someone talked about the gorgeous gamer girl with the killer moves.
During lunch, Max, Freddie, and TJ pulled him aside. "Dude, what's going on with you?" Max asked, his eyes wide. "You've got everyone talking."
Cameron took a deep breath. "It's just for the stream," he said, trying to sound casual. "It's all part of the act."
"Are you sure?" asked Max, concerned.
He wasn't the only one either.
Katie was concerned too. She had noticed the way he moved now, the way he talked, the way he held himself. It was like he was becoming more than just 'Cammy' when he put on the makeup and the clothes. It was like he was discovering a part of himself that had been buried under layers of boyhood.
One evening after a particularly successful stream, she decided to broach the subject. "Cam, can we talk?" she asked tentatively.
Cameron looked up from his computer, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror as he removed the headset. "Sure, what's up?"
Katie sat down on the bed, her hands playing with the edge of the comforter. "It's just...I've noticed something different about you, lately," she said, her voice gentle. "You're not just playing a part anymore."
Cameron turned to her, his expression a mix of curiosity and fear. "What do you mean?"
Katie took a deep breath. "You've got a girl's shape now," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, like, not just your butt, but everything. Your hips, your waist, your...chest." She gestured to the chest area, her cheeks flushing.
"It's just the forms," he said, trying to deflect.
She shook her head. "No it's not. How have you not noticed."
He sighed. He had noticed. He thought maybe the forms were giving him a rash. He wasn't that much of an idiot though. In Middle School Health class, they made boys and girls watch both videos about the developing human body during puberty. He knew all the signs. Puberty had been late coming for him and he was ok with that. He chalked it up to his Asian genes but ever since he turned fourteen, he started to notice. He wasn't sure if he was outright ignoring it all or if he was in complete denial.
He started to tear up. Katie reached forward and hugged. "Let's get you out of that getup and let's talk to Allison and Dad".
The walk downstairs was the longest walk of his life. He felt like he was walking to the principal's office. His heart was racing. This was it. The moment of truth. He took a deep breath and stepped into the living room.
Allison and Doug were sitting on the couch, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Katie took the lead, explaining everything from the start. She talked about the streaming, the donations, and the accidental success of 'Cammy'. She showed them the videos, the chats, and the growth of his audience. And then she told them about the clothes, the makeup, and the changes in his body.
Cameron stood there, his heart racing, his cheeks hot with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But as the words spilled out of Katie's mouth, it was like a weight was lifted from his chest. He watched his parents' faces, looking for signs of anger or disappointment, but all he saw was...curiosity.
"Honey," Allison began, her voice gentle, "why didn't you tell us sooner?"
Cameron shrugged, feeling the weight of his secret finally lifted. "I didn't know how to," he murmured. "It just sort of...happened."
Doug looked at him, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "You're not taking anything, are you?" he asked, his voice low.
Cameron shook his head. "No, I promise," he said, his voice trembling. "It's just...I don't know what's happening to me."
Allison's eyes searched his, filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Okay," she said finally. "We'll get you to see a doctor. We need to make sure you're okay."
Doug nodded in agreement, his expression tight. "And we need to talk about this 'Cammy' thing," he added. "It's not right for you to be lying to everyone."
Cameron's stomach twisted into knots. He had been dreading this moment, but he knew he couldn't keep his double life a secret much longer. "I know," he said, his voice small. "But it's just for fun, and it's helping me with my streaming. I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand."
"We understand that," Allison said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But we need to make sure that you're safe and healthy."
They decided to visit the doctor together. The appointment was made for the following afternoon, leaving Cameron with a day of nervous anticipation. He couldn't help but wonder what the doctor would say, if there was something wrong with him, or if he was just a freak of nature. The thoughts swirled in his head like a tornado, but he pushed them aside.
The doctor's office was cold and sterile, with a faint smell of antiseptic in the air. The receptionist looked up from her computer as they entered, her expression unreadable. Allison held his hand tightly, her grip reassuring. "It'll be okay," she whispered, her eyes filled with love and concern.
Dr. Peterson, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, listened intently as Allison explained the situation. She nodded, scribbled some notes, and then turned to Cameron. "Why don't you tell me what's been happening in your own words?" she said gently.
Cameron took a deep breath and recounted his journey with 'Cammy', from the initial accidental stream to the transformation of his body. He spoke haltingly at first, but the doctor's calm demeanor helped him relax. He talked about the changes he had noticed, the whispers at school, and the thrill of his secret identity.
The doctor nodded, her expression neutral. She examined him, poking and prodding, asking questions about his diet, his health, and his emotions. She took a blood sample and sent him for a few tests. As they waited for the results, she explained that while it was unusual, it wasn't unheard of for someone to develop these kinds of features. It was probably just a hormonal imbalance, she said, something that could be easily corrected with the right medication.
Cameron felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was just a phase, a weird glitch in his body's programming. Nothing to worry about, just a temporary thing. But as he looked at his mother's worried face, he realized that maybe it wasn't just about the streaming anymore. Maybe he had stumbled onto something deeper, something that scared him more than being found out.
The doctor called them back into her office a few days later. The walls were plastered with certificates and awards, but all Cameron could focus on was the framed picture of a smiling family. He wondered if she had a son who was going through something similar, if she had to deal with this kind of stuff all the time.
"Cameron, we've got the results," she said, her voice calm. "It seems like you have a mild case of something called Klinefelter Syndrome."
Cameron's heart skipped a beat. "What's that?" he croaked.
The doctor explained that Klinefelter Syndrome was a condition where a male is born with an extra X chromosome, which could lead to a range of symptoms, including the development of some typically female characteristics. It was relatively common, but often went undiagnosed. She went on to say that it could be managed with hormone therapy if he wanted to suppress the feminine traits.
Cameron sat there, trying to process the information. It was like someone had flipped a switch in his brain and suddenly everything made sense. The way his body was changing, the way he felt when he was 'Cammy'. It was all because of this extra chromosome.
Allison's eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "What does this mean?" she asked, her voice shaking.
The doctor gave them a gentle smile. "It's not the end of the world," she assured them. "Many people with Klinefelter Syndrome live completely normal lives. It's just something we need to keep an eye on."
"You said it can be corrected with hormones?" asked his mother, giving Cameron's hand a squeeze.
The doctor nodded. "Yes, but it's a decision you and your family will have to make together," she said, her eyes kind. "There are also support groups and therapists who can help you navigate these changes and feelings."
"And what if I don't want to correct it?" he asked, surprising himself more than his shocked mother.
The doctor's smile remained warm, but her eyes searched his. "Well, that's something we can discuss as well," she said. "But first, let's focus on making sure you're healthy and that we understand what's happening with your body."
The following week was a blur of appointments and tests. Cameron felt like a lab rat, poked and prodded by a series of white-coated strangers. But amidst the barrage of medical jargon and awkward physical exams, he found comfort in the fact that he wasn't alone. Allison was by his side every step of the way, her grip on his hand never wavering. She didn't ask him to choose between being Cameron and 'Cammy', she just supported him, letting him be whoever he needed to be.
After the initial shock, they both found themselves diving into research about Klinefelter Syndrome. They read stories of other teenagers who had gone through the same thing, watched YouTube videos of guys sharing their experiences, and even found a local support group that met once a week. It was strange, but in a way, it felt like they were on a new adventure together.
The doctor had given them a lot to think about. Hormone therapy was an option, but it wasn't a decision to be made lightly. Allison could see the conflict in Cameron's eyes. On one hand, he was scared of the unknown, of being different. On the other hand, there was something about 'Cammy' that seemed to bring him alive in a way that nothing else did.
So, when Dr. Peterson suggested they speak with a psychologist named Dr. Carpenter who specialized in gender dysphoria, Allison knew it was the right move. She didn't want Cameron to feel like he was walking this path alone. The idea of him having to choose between being who he was and who the world expected him to be was too much to bear.
The first appointment with Dr. Carpenter was nerve-wracking. The office was small but cozy, with a soft couch and a box of tissues strategically placed on the coffee table. The psychologist was a middle-aged man with a gentle demeanor and a calming voice. He talked to them both, asking questions and listening intently. Cameron felt like he could breathe for the first time in weeks.
"So why don't you tell me about Cammy?" asked the doctor, trying to get the boy to open up.
Cameron shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's just a character," he said, his voice tight. "For the streams."
Dr. Carpenter nodded thoughtfully. "And how does it feel when you're 'Cammy'?"
Cameron took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "It's like...I'm more myself," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to explain it. It's just...easier."
Dr. Carpenter nodded, his eyes understanding. "It's okay to feel that way," he said gently. "But it's important that we explore these feelings together."
The sessions with Dr. Carpenter became a weekly ritual, a safe space for Cameron to explore the blurred lines between Cameron and 'Cammy'. His mother sat in on the sessions, her hand resting on his knee, a silent show of support. They talked about the thrill of streaming, the adoration of his fans, and the fear of losing it all.
After a month of these discussions, Dr. Carpenter suggested a new approach. "Cameron," he said, leaning forward in his chair, "I think it might be beneficial for you to bring 'Cammy' to school."
Cameron's eyes widened in horror. "What? No way!"
"Hear me out," Dr. Carpenter said calmly. "This isn't about parading your alter ego around the hallways. It's about integrating the two parts of your identity, in a controlled environment. It could be incredibly beneficial for your mental health and self-acceptance."
Cameron felt his heart race at the thought. The idea of bringing 'Cammy' to school was terrifying, but also...exciting. He looked over at Allison, who was nodding slowly, her eyes filled with hope. He still wasn't sure it was a good idea though. Lots of kids at school knew "Cammychan" and he was very afraid of what might happen if they made the connection. He expressed that concern to both the doctor and his mother.
Dr. Carpenter nodded, understanding his fear. "We'll take it slow," he assured. "We'll start with a small step, like wearing something subtly feminine under your usual clothes."
Cameron swallowed hard, thinking about the leather jacket and fishnets hidden in his closet. "Okay," he murmured, his voice shaking. "But what if someone finds out?"
"We'll handle it together," Dr. Carpenter said, his voice firm. "But remember, this is about you feeling comfortable in your own skin, not about hiding."
The next week, Cameron took a deep breath as he slipped into a pair of black skinny jeans, the same ones that had caused Katie to comment on his shape. He paired them with a loose band t-shirt that had a hint of lace at the collar. It was subtle, but it was a step.
As he walked through the school halls, he felt eyes on him, some curious, some judgmental. Max and Freddie greeted him with nods of approval, but TJ's face twisted into a grimace. "What the hell, man?" TJ hissed as they sat down at their usual lunch table.
Cameron took a bite of his sandwich, trying to ignore the discomfort in his stomach. "What's your problem?" he asked, his voice steady.
TJ shifted in his seat, his eyes darting around the crowded cafeteria. "It's just...you're a dude," he said finally. "You can't just wear...whatever you want."
Cameron took a deep breath. "It's just an outfit," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm still the same person."
But TJ's words stung. He had always been the one to laugh the loudest at the 'Cammy' jokes, the one to encourage him to go further with the persona. Now, it seemed like he couldn't handle the reality of his friend's feminine side.
Cameron shrugged off TJ's discomfort and focused on the positive. Laura, the quiet girl from his math class, gave him a shy smile as she passed by. He felt a warmth spread through him. Maybe this was the start of something new, a chance to show everyone that 'Cammy' was more than just a costume, more than just a way to get likes and donations. Maybe 'Cammy' was a part of him that he didn't have to hide.
As the bell rang for the next period, he gathered his books and headed for the door. That's when he saw Alex, his heart skipped a beat. Cameron had been avoiding him since the mall incident, not sure how to explain his transformation. But as their eyes met, he gave him a wide grin and a thumbs up. "Looking good, Cammy," he whispered, his voice low and amused.
Alex's comment made Cameron's cheeks burn, but he couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. It was the first time someone from school had acknowledged 'Cammy' in a positive light. He mumbled a thanks and hurried away, feeling more conflicted than ever.
The next day, he took a deep breath and added a bit more to his look. He applied a light dusting of makeup, just enough to enhance his features without being too obvious. His heart pounded as he slid the small stud earrings into his ears. They were the ones Katie had picked out, sparkling blue gems that matched his eyes. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his heart racing. He looked...good. He looked like Cammy, but with a touch of something more real.
At school, the whispers grew louder. He could feel the eyes on him, but this time, it wasn't just about the way he looked. It was about the way he carried himself. He walked with a newfound confidence, his head held high. The makeup made him feel stronger, more in control. It was like a mask, but instead of hiding, it allowed him to show the world who he truly was.
Miss George called him into her office after class. She had noticed the changes in him, the way he had started to embrace a more feminine side. She spoke to him gently, her voice filled with concern and curiosity. "Cameron," she said, "I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you're going through, you can talk to me."
Cameron felt his throat tighten. He hadn't told anyone at school about 'Cammy' or his appointments with Dr. Carpenter. But there was something about Miss George that made him feel like he could trust her. He took a deep breath and spilled his heart out, telling her about his streaming persona, his secret life as a girl online, and the diagnosis that had changed everything.
Miss George listened intently, her eyes never leaving his. She didn't say a word, just nodded, letting him speak without interruption. When he finished, she leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "Cameron," she said finally, her voice gentle, "You're a very brave young man."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Cameron felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he wasn't so alone in this after all. Maybe there were people who would understand.
The following week, Cameron decided to go all in. He didn't tell Katie or anyone else about his plan; it was something he had to do for himself. He picked out a cute skirt and a blouse from his secret stash of clothes, the ones that had been gathering dust in the back of his closet. He applied makeup with a steady hand, the motions now familiar and comforting. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked in the mirror, seeing a reflection that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Walking into school, he felt the weight of every gaze, the whispers that grew into a crescendo as he passed by. The hallways of his high school had never felt so long or so narrow. His friends stared at him, slack-jawed, before their expressions turned to shock, then acceptance. Laura offered another shy smile, while Max and Freddie gave him a thumbs up, their faces alight with pride.
TJ, however, was a different story. His eyes bulged as he took in the sight of Cameron in a skirt, his cheeks flaming with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "What the hell, man?" he spat out, pushing his chair back from the lunch table. "You're messing with us, right?"
Cameron took a deep breath, his hand resting on the skirt's waistband. "No, TJ," he said firmly. "This isn't a joke."
The cafeteria grew quiet as everyone stared at the scene unfolding before them. TJ looked like he'd been punched in the gut, his face a mask of disbelief. "But...you're a guy," he stammered.
"I know," Cameron said, his voice surprisingly calm. "But I'm also 'Cammy', and I like it. I'm not asking you to understand, I'm just asking you to respect it."
TJ's fists clenched, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to swing. But before he could, Alex and Brian were there, standing firmly between them. "Back off, TJ," Alex warned, his voice low and serious. "Cam's just being himself."
Wait, "himself"? Did that mean Alex knew he was a boy all along?
The realization that Alex knew his secret was like a sucker punch to the gut. But instead of anger, all Cameron felt was a strange sense of relief. Maybe he wasn't the only one who saw 'Cammy' as more than just a character. Maybe Alex had seen something in him that he hadn't even admitted to himself.
But TJ didn't seem to care about any of that. His eyes burned with rage as he stared at Cameron, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the lunch table. "You're a freak," he spat, his voice echoing through the tense silence of the cafeteria.
"Mr. Phelps" said a voice as one of the teachers appeared, Laura behind her. "Why don't we talk about this with the Vice Principal"
The teacher glared and led a fuming TJ away.
Cameron's heart thudded in his chest, his breath shallow. The cafeteria buzzed again, eyes still on him. Alex remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering. "You okay?" he murmured.
Cameron nodded, his throat tight. "Thanks," he managed, the words feeling inadequate. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, but he felt a newfound determination to be true to himself, even if it meant facing the storm of confusion and potential ridicule from his peers.
The rest of the school day was a blur of whispers and sidelong glances, but Cameron held his head high, each step in the skirt feeling more natural than the last. As the final bell rang, he made his way to his locker, his mind racing with the implications of his newfound courage.
When he turned the corner, he found Katie waiting for him, her eyes wide with shock and concern. "What happened?" she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.
Cameron took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "TJ reacted badly," he said, his voice tight. "But it's okay. Alex had my back."
Katie didn't say anything but pulled him into a tight hug.
On Friday, something unexpected happened with the stream. As Cameron transformed into 'Cammy', he noticed the viewer count dropping, and the chat was filled with accusations of deceit. It seemed that a few viewers had connected the dots and realized that 'Cammy' was actually a boy. The nasty comments grew in number and vitriol, attacking not just his persona but his very essence. He felt a cold dread seep into his bones, realizing that his secret was no longer safe.
"You're a liar!" one user typed in all caps. "You're not a girl, you're a disgusting fraud!"
Cameron's heart sank as he stared at the chat. He had always known this day might come, but he hadn't been prepared for the visceral hatred that accompanied the revelation. The realization that some of his most devoted fans had turned on him was like a knife twisting in his gut. He glanced over at Katie, who sat beside him, her face a mix of shock and sadness.
A lot of people defended him though and many were confused and indifferent.
After it got too toxic though, he ended the stream early. Then he turned and cried into Katie's arms.
The weekend was a whirlwind of emotions for Cameron. The secret that had once been a source of excitement and freedom had turned into a raging wildfire of gossip and accusations. He felt exposed and vulnerable, his bedroom sanctuary no longer a safe haven. The digital world had invaded his reality, and the line between 'Cammy' and Cameron had blurred beyond recognition.
On Sunday night, he sat in front of his computer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The chat was ablaze with opinions, a cacophony of love and hate that was both exhilarating and exhausting. Katie sat beside him, her eyes scanning the screen with a protective fierceness that made him feel a little less alone.
"You don't have to go back on," she said, her voice gentle. "Not if it's too much."
But Cameron knew he had to face the music. He took a deep breath and started the stream. The chat was a minefield of vitriol and confusion. His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice as he read the comments. But there were also messages of support, from friends and even some viewers who didn't care about his gender. He started to feel a glimmer of hope.
"Hey everyone," he began, his voice shaking slightly. "I need to talk to you guys." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Some of you may have realized that 'Cammy' isn't who you thought she was. My name is Cameron, and I've been keeping a secret."
The chat exploded, a flurry of questions and accusations. His heart raced as he took a deep breath. "I'm not fully a girl," he said simply. "But 'Cammy' isn't just a character to me. She's a part of who I am."
The screen was a blur of text, the words "trapped in the wrong body" standing out amidst the chaos. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and typed. "I was born with a condition called Klinefelter Syndrome. It's not something I can change, but it's part of me. And 'Cammy' is too."
The response was immediate, a tornado of reactions. Some viewers were angry, others shocked, but there was a surprising number who offered kind words of understanding. His heart pounded as he read through the messages, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He had faced his fears and came out the other side, not unscathed, but stronger.
"Thank you, Cammy," one user wrote. "You're still amazing, no matter what."
Cameron felt a lump form in his throat. He had never expected such a positive response, especially not after the way the week had unfolded. He took a moment to collect himself before addressing the camera. "I know this is a lot to take in," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "But I want to thank all of you for being here. For supporting me."
He ended the stream there.
Monday at school was a mix of whispers and nods of support. Laura sat next to him at lunch, her eyes bright with excitement. "I can't believe it," she said, her voice low so no one else could hear. "You're actually Cammychan!"
Cameron felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "It's a bit...weird."
Laura nodded eagerly. "But it's also kind of amazing," she said, her eyes shining. "You're so brave to be yourself."
Cameron shrugged, trying to play it cool, but inside he felt a warm glow. "It's just who I am," he said, his voice a little stronger than before. Laura's acceptance was like a balm to his bruised ego.
TJ's absence at the lunch table was a stark reminder of the price of authenticity. But as the days passed, he saw that Laura was not the only one who had his back. More and more kids started sitting with them, sharing their own stories of feeling like outsiders, of finding refuge in the world of streaming and gaming. It was as if by being true to himself, Cameron had unwittingly created a safe space for others to do the same.
Laura's revelation that she was a 'Cammychan' fan had been the spark that had lit a new friendship. She was a walking encyclopedia of gaming knowledge, and her enthusiasm for the games he streamed was infectious. They spent lunches discussing strategy, sharing tips, and occasionally geeking out over new releases. Her passion for the hobby made him realize that there was more to 'Cammy' than just the persona he had created; she was a symbol of acceptance and belonging for a community that often felt misunderstood.
As the weeks passed, the whispers in the hallways grew quieter, replaced by nods of respect and a few shy hellos from students who had once only known him as the new kid with the pretty face. He still felt the sting of TJ's betrayal, but the loss was softened by the blossoming friendship with Laura. They became inseparable, and she was there for him when the inevitable snickers and cruel jibes still occurred. Laura had a way of deflecting the negativity with a laugh or a clever comeback that left the bullies floundering.
On weekends, Laura joined Cameron and Katie on their trips to the mall, turning their outings into a celebration of self-expression and individuality. They would spend hours in the clothing stores, Laura's eyes lighting up as she helped him pick out outfits that made him feel like 'Cammy' but were still suitable for school. It was a strange balance, but one that felt surprisingly right. With each shopping trip, the weight of his secret grew lighter, and the thrill of wearing the clothes he loved grew stronger.
The three of them would often sit in the food court, sipping on their drinks and chatting about their latest adventures in the streaming world. Laura had a knack for making him feel seen and heard, her empathy and understanding a stark contrast to the cruelty of others. She didn't just accept 'Cammy'; she embraced her, making him feel like he had found a true kindred spirit.
One day, while trying on a pair of heels at the mall, Cameron's heart raced with excitement. He had never felt so alive, so...right. Laura beamed at him from the other side of the dressing room mirror, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, you could totally pull these off," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
Cameron stared at his reflection, his long legs looking surprisingly good in the black stilettos. "What if I want to?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Laura's smile grew wider. "Then do it," she said firmly. "You look amazing, and if it makes you happy, that's all that matters."
With a nod, Cameron decided to take the plunge. He picked out a cute dress from his growing collection, a soft pink number that made him feel like a modern-day prince. His heart pounded as he slipped it over his head, the fabric whispering against his skin. He took a deep breath and stepped out of his bedroom, the heels clacking against the tile floor.
Katie watched him from the living room, her eyes wide with a mix of pride and fear. She had been his rock through all of this, his confidante and stylist. Now, as he stood before her in the dress, he saw a hint of tears in her eyes. "You look...amazing," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Cameron took a deep breath and headed downstairs, the skirt of the dress swishing around his legs. His mother and stepfather were sitting on the couch, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. "Guys," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "Can we talk?"
They exchanged a look before nodding. "Of course," his mother said, patting the cushion next to her. "What's going on?"
Cameron took a deep breath and sat down, the dress feeling both strange and oddly comforting. "I've been thinking a lot," he began, his voice shaking slightly. "About 'Cammy' and who I am."
His mother's eyes searched his, filled with a motherly concern that made him want to shrink away. But he steeled himself, knowing he had to be brave. "I've realized that 'Cammy' isn't just a character I play on stream," he continued. "It's a part of me that I want to explore more."
Doug cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "Cameron," he began, his voice measured. "You know we support you, but we want you to be happy and safe."
"I know," Cameron said, his voice strong despite the quiver in his chest. "But I can't ignore this part of me anymore. I want to be Cammy."
The room was silent, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. His mother's eyes searched his, her face a map of worry and love. "You're sure?" she asked, her voice tentative.
Cameron nodded, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement. "I'm sure," he said firmly. "I want to be Cammy. At least for a while, to see how it feels."
His mother took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving him. "Okay," she said finally, her voice a little shaky. "We'll support you, Cameron. But we need to talk about this with Dr. Carpenter first."
The next day, they found themselves in the waiting room of Dr. Carpenter's office, the walls lined with books and certificates that seemed to whisper of a thousand different stories and identities. The doctor's face was a mask of professionalism as they explained the situation, but Cameron could see a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I understand your feelings, Cameron," Dr. Carpenter said, leaning back in his chair. "But we must proceed with caution." He peered at him over his glasses, his gaze piercing yet kind. "Exploring your gender identity is a significant step. It's vital that you do so with guidance and support."
Cameron nodded, his heart racing. "I know," he said, his voice a little shaky. "But I'm ready."
Dr. Carpenter leaned forward, his expression serious. "Very well," he said. "But let's talk about what that might mean for you. There will be challenges, and it's essential that you're prepared to face them."
"I'm prepared," he said, knowing that they already talked about TJ.
In the end though, Dr. Carpenter agreed to move things onto the next step.
Friday night arrived, and Cameron sat in front of his computer, his heart racing as he prepared to go live again. He had a newfound determination to show the world who he truly was, both as Cameron and 'Cammy'. The chat was a sea of anticipation, with both supporters and detractors eagerly awaiting his return.
As he took a deep breath to begin the stream, his phone buzzed on the desk. The screen lit up with an unknown number. He hesitated for a moment before answering, expecting it to be another troll or someone looking to stir up more drama. "Hello?" he said warily.
"Hi, is this Cameron?" a friendly voice asked, a hint of professionalism in her tone.
Cameron's pulse quickened. "Yeah, it's me," he replied, his voice tentative.
"Hi Cameron, this is Jade Blackwell," the woman said. "I represent a group called Gamer Girls Unite. We've been following your stream, and we're really impressed with your courage and skill."
Cameron's eyes widened in surprise. "Thanks," he managed to say, his voice a little shaky.
His heart thumped in his chest.
Cammychan was ready to play.
The End?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Jessica, engrossed in her favorite reality show, shot him a side-eye glance. "Not until you do fifty push-ups."
Bailey groaned, knowing she wouldn't budge. "Why do you watch this stuff?"
Jessica rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't understand, bro. It's all about the drama, the glamour, the...spirit."
Her voice was filled with a mix of sarcasm and genuine enthusiasm that made it hard to pinpoint if she was being serious or not. But then again, Jessica had always been a master of the theatrical. She thrived on the high-energy performances that came with being a cheerleader. Her school spirit was as vibrant as the crimson and white of their school colors. Her smile could light up a room, and she had a knack for making everyone around her feel like part of the team, whether they were in the stands or on the field.
Bailey, on the other hand, found cheerleading to be the epitome of everything he hated about high school. The forced smiles, the constant need to be perfect, the unspoken hierarchy that seemed to dictate everyone's social status. The worst part of it all was how much it dominated life at home. Jessica was obsessed and practiced all the time. She practiced so much that he actually knew everyone of her routines by heart.
Later that night, in the sanctity of his bedroom, surrounded by posters of video games and action heroes, Bailey found himself in a heated debate with his online friends. They were all in a virtual lobby, waiting for their next match to begin, when one of them brought up Jessica's cheerleading. The banter grew as they all laughed at the stereotype of cheerleaders, and without thinking, Bailey jumped in. "I can do all her moves," he boasted, his voice echoing through the headset.
"Yeah, right," scoffed Alex, the group's usual skeptic. "Prove it."
"I'll prove it if I lose" said a confident Bailey.
The digital world of the looter shooter game they were playing was a chaotic maelstrom of gunfire and explosions. Each player's avatar darted and weaved through the battlefield, hunting for loot and strategically taking out the enemy team. Bailey, known in the game as 'B-Dog', had honed his skills over countless hours. His hands moved with the precision of a surgeon, his eyes never leaving the screen. For a while, he danced through the virtual bullets unscathed, dropping enemies with a flourish and securing precious loot for his team. The scoreboard flashed with each victory, and his friends jeered at his lack of losing.
But then, in a moment of misjudgment, he stepped into a trap. His avatar crumpled to the ground, and the chat exploded with laughter. "B-Dog's down! Pay up, man!" Alex's taunt rang in his ears as he respawned.
Bailey's two other friends---Dave and Elena----started laughing.
Bailey cursed.
"So after school tomorrow then" he said, defeated.
Alex was a bit of dick and schemer. While they'd all been friends for years, he never really liked Bailey all that much. The two of them used to be close but over the years they'd grown apart and Alex resented him a lot. He was always looking for ways to one up Bailey and humiliate him. He thought he could do it through gaming but Bailey was better. Tonight's bet was just pure dumb luck. Now that he had Bailey though, he wasn't ready to let it go this easily.
"Double or nothing" sad Alex, the wheels turning in his head. "You lose again, you have to wear your sister's practice clothes too"
Alex wasn't done of course. It was part of his full humiliation plan. He didn't just want Bailey to humiliate himself in front of them, he planned on secretly filming it and uploading it on the internet for everyone to see. Then he'd final have his vindication.
Bailey played well again but eventually, he was killed. Alex and the others laughed again. Bailey joined in, it was all in good fun after all.
The next day after school, they all met at Bailey's. He borrowed some of Jessica's spare practice clothes and dressed quickly in his room. He groaned at the sight of himself in the mirror---with his shoulder length dirty blonde hair and slim body, the clothes fit a little too well. The shorts were too short and snug, the top was tight and felt wrong, but he knew he'd survived worse embarrassments. After all, he'd faced down hordes of aliens and armies of orcs in his favorite games; what was a little teasing from his friends?
They spilled into the backyard, the sun setting behind them, casting long shadows across the grass. Jessica's cheer routine played on the portable speaker they'd brought. The music was upbeat and energetic, the kind of tune that made you want to move whether you liked cheerleading or not.
Bailey took a deep breath, his heart racing. He'd talked a big game online, but now he was about to back it up in real life. He knew every beat, every twirl and jump of Jessica's routine by heart. He'd seen her do it enough times, but performing it was another thing entirely. The pressure was on, but he felt a strange excitement bubbling up inside him.
The music blared out from the speaker, and without another word, he launched into the routine. His friends watched, stunned, as he executed the moves with surprising grace. The jumps were high, the tumbles smooth, and even the cheer-filled yells sounded eerily similar to Jessica's. His body moved in ways he didn't know it could, his muscles working in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the cheer.
Alex had his phone out the whole time, secretly recording the whole thing with a smirk.
Bailey felt the adrenaline rushing through him as he spun and leapt through the air. He'd never actually performed in front of anyone like this, but there was something oddly liberating about it. Each movement was a declaration of his independence from Jessica's shadow, a silent protest against the stereotypes that had followed him all his life. His friends' eyes grew wider with every pass, and their laughter subsided into a stunned silence. Even Dave and Elena, who'd been laughing moments ago, seemed surprised by his skill.
He landed the final pose with a flourish, the music cutting off abruptly. The yard was quiet except for his own ragged breaths. For a moment, no one said anything. The world had frozen, and even the distant sound of a barking dog seemed to hold its breath.
Bailey felt his heart thud in his chest, his skin sticky with sweat and nerves. He waited for the laughter, the snide comments, the inevitable barrage of teasing that would follow his performance. But instead, all he heard was the faint rustle of the wind in the trees.
Everyone was still stunned into silence.
Bailey was panting. He never realized how much of a workout all of that really was and he'd only done it for five minutes tops. Jessica and the other girls did it for much longer. He hated to admit it to himself but he suddenly had mad respect for her. He also hated to admit that he actually had a bit of fun. There was something exhilarating about the whole thing but surprised the hell out of him. Not that he'd ever openly admit it, especially to his sister.
"Well?" Alex spoke up, breaking the silence, his smugness evident even without looking at him.
"Dude, that was...wow," Elena finally said, her voice filled with genuine amazement.
Dave nodded, his eyes wide. "I never knew you had it in you, man."
Alex, however, remained silent, his smirk faltering slightly. He hadn't expected this. He'd anticipated a laughable display, something to cement his victory over Bailey. But what he saw was a performance that was surprisingly...good. It was clear that Bailey had more than just a passing familiarity with the routine; he had a natural rhythm and flair that none of them had expected.
The moment of awe passed, and the group erupted into a mix of applause and laughter. But it was a different kind of laughter now, one tinged with respect. "Okay, okay," Bailey said, blushing despite his best efforts to play it cool. "Let's just get it over with."
He stumbled back inside, the practice clothes feeling like a costume that had grown too tight. He couldn't wait to peel them off and return to his comfy gaming chair, where he was the king of his domain. In the safety of his room, he shed the cheerleading garb and slipped back into his well-worn jeans and favorite band t-shirt. His heart was still racing, but the exhilaration was slowly giving way to a gnawing feeling of dread. What if Jessica found out?
But as he redressed, something strange happened. The moves he'd just performed, the routine that had once been a source of mockery, played in his head like a catchy tune he couldn't shake. He found himself smiling, unable to completely dismiss the thrill of the unexpected victory. He'd shown Alex and the others that he wasn't just Jessica's shadow; he had some tricks up his sleeve too.
When he joined Dave and Elena in the living room, they were already scrolling through movie options. Alex had left, unable to stick around for the aftermath of his failed prank. The room felt lighter without him, the air less charged with malicious intent.
"You okay?" Elena asked, tossing him a bag of popcorn.
Bailey shrugged. "Just not something I was expecting to do on a Tuesday afternoon, you know?"
Elena nodded. "What the hell is Alex's deal anyway?"
Dave shrugged. "Always been a bit of an asshole. But you know, he's just jealous."
Bailey raised an eyebrow. "Of what?"
"What's he not jealous of" said Elena.
They left it at that and watched their movie.
The next few days passed by in a blur of school and homework, and Bailey was grateful for the return to the mundane. The incident with the cheer routine was a secret shared between the four of them, a strange bond formed over the unexpected twist of fate. They joked about it in hushed tones during lunch, but mostly, it was a memory they tucked away, a reminder that sometimes life threw you a curveball.
Unbeknownst to Bailey, Dave and Elena though, Alex had uploaded the secret video onto the internet but had blurred out Bailey's face.
The video spread like wildfire among the school's cheer community, who were equally shocked and impressed by the mysterious newcomer's skills. It was the talk of the squad, passed from phone to phone in a frenzy of whispers and giggles. Jessica caught wind of it in the hallways, her curiosity piqued by the buzz of her friends' conversations. She'd seen the routine before; it was one of theirs. Not only that but those...those were her practice shorts and top. Her heart sank. It had to be her brother.
After dinner, with their parents upstairs watching their favorite TV show, Jessica cornered Bailey in the kitchen. She held her phone out to him, the screen glowing with the evidence of his backyard performance. "What the hell is this?" she demanded, her voice a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
Bailey took the phone, his heart sinking as he watched the blurred figure perform her routine with surprising skill. He recognized his own moves, his own flailing limbs and the awkward grace that had earned him his friends' begrudging respect. Alex, that dumb fuck. He was going to kill him the next time he saw him.
"That prick" he cursed but recovered under his sister's glare. He sighed. "I lost a bet. I didn't know it was being filmed though"
Jessica's eyes narrowed. "What bet?"
"Some stupid gaming bet. It was like a week ago. It was a one time thing. Alex must of filmed it to be a dick"
Jessica stared at him for a beat, her expression unreadable. Then, she took a deep breath and leaned against the counter. "You know, for a guy who spends his life playing games and making fun of cheerleading, you're not half bad."
Bailey laughed off what he thought was a sarcastic comment.
"I'm serious," Jessica said. "You've got some moves, little brother. Who taught you?"
He shook his head. "No one, I was just mimicking you"
Jessica's eyes lit up. "Wait, you've been watching me practice?"
"Not on purpose" he admitted.
She laughed it off. "Well they say imitation is the greatest form of flattery"
But later that night, as Jessica lay in her bed, she couldn't shake the image of her brother in her practice clothes, pulling off her routine so flawlessly. It was weird, sure, but there was something...different about it. He had always been the one to mock her cheer life, and here he was, not only doing the moves but doing them well. It was a talent she hadn't expected to see from someone who claimed to hate cheerleading so much.
Jessica knew that Bailey had picked up the routine from watching her practice countless times. The thought brought a small smile to her lips. Maybe, just maybe, there was a part of him that was intrigued by cheerleading. Or maybe he had just picked up the moves to annoy her, she thought. But she couldn't ignore the precision, the way his body had moved in time with the music, almost as if he enjoyed it.
Her mind raced with the implications. If he was really that good, maybe she could teach him a thing or two. It would be their little secret, a way to bond over something she had always felt was just for her. And who knows, maybe she could help him break out of his shell, show the school that he was more than just the "cheerleader's annoying little brother." But she had to tread carefully; Bailey had a thick skin when it came to teasing, but she knew he had a soft spot when it came to his own dignity.
****
The Cheer Coach, Miss Howe had been scrolling through her social media feed when the video popped up, sent to her by one of the senior cheerleaders. She watched with growing interest, her eyes widening as the blurry faced figure on the screen executed each move with surprising precision. The way the "mystery cheerleader" moved, the power behind each jump, the flexibility and grace of their tumbling...it was all there, raw and unrefined, but there.
Miss Howe replayed the video multiple times, her mind racing. This was the kind of talent she'd been searching for to boost the JV squad's performance. The moves were flawless, a mirror image of the routines she had choreographed herself. It was clear that whoever this was had studied her team's routine meticulously.
****
At the next cheer practice, the gym buzzed with the usual mix of chatter and sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. The Varsity squad was in full swing, their movements a synchronized blur of color and energy. Miss Howe clapped her hands to get everyone's attention, a hint of excitement in her voice as she announced a surprise. She had found a video online that had been making the rounds, showcasing a new talent that she believed could be a great addition to the JV squad, who was down a member after Becky Sparks had broken her ankle.
Jessica's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the blurred figure and the routine she had practiced so many times. She couldn't believe it had come to this. She had hoped the video would just be forgotten, lost in the sea of internet content. But here it was, front and center, and she was the only one who knew the truth.
Miss Howe played the video again, pausing at the most impressive parts. "This person has a lot of potential," she said, scanning the group of cheerleaders. "They've got the spirit, the skill, and the moves down pat. If anyone knows who this is, I want to talk to them. We could really use some fresh talent on the JV squad."
Jessica's eyes darted around the room, watching as her teammates whispered and speculated. Some were genuinely impressed, while others shot her sidelong glances, wondering if she had anything to do with it. She kept her cool, her smile plastic, hoping against hope that no one would connect the dots. "It's probably some random fan," she said casually, hoping to redirect the conversation.
But Miss Howe was not one to be easily swayed. "I don't think so, Jessica. That's our routine, down to the last toe-touch. Whoever this is, they've been studying us." The coach's eyes searched the group, finally settling on Jessica. "Does anyone have any younger siblings?"
Four of the girls present did, while the others only had older ones.
Only two of the four girls had younger sisters. Jessica kept her mouth shut, not wanting to say a word. No one knew that she and Bailey were connected, he was her stepbrother after all. They had last names. Their parents married when they were both young, so they didn't see themselves as anything other than siblings.
The only other person who knew that Bailey existed was Rachel, her best friend.
Rachel shot Jessica a look but Jessica shook her head, not wanting the truth to get out.
After practice, Rachel pulled Jessica aside, her eyes filled with confusion. "What was that all about?" she whispered, her voice echoing in the nearly empty gym. "Why did you lie about your brother?"
Jessica sighed, her shoulders slumping. She hadn't wanted to lie, but she hadn't wanted to betray Bailey's secret either. "It's complicated," she began, her voice low. "He didn't know he was being filmed, and it was just a stupid bet."
Rachel's eyes grew wide. "Bailey? That was your brother in the video?"
Jessica shushed her. "Keep it down. I don't want it getting out."
Rachel apologized then lowered her voice. "You know Coach won't let it go. She's driven, she'll poke around. You know how she is"
Jessica nodded, her heart racing. Rachel was right. Miss Howe had a knack for finding talent, and she was notorious for being relentless when she had a hunch. "I'll handle it," Jessica assured her, though she had no clue how.
"Hey, you need help, I'm your girl" said Rachel, being a true friend.
The two of them agreed to keep this to themselves, hoping things would blow over and Miss Howe would forget about it eventually.
The week that followed was a blur of schoolwork and video games. Bailey went about his days as if the video never existed, blissfully unaware of the ripples it had caused in the cheer world. He'd thought Alex had posted it just to embarrass him, but the video had apparently been buried under the latest viral dance challenge. The school's focus had shifted, and he was grateful for the anonymity it brought.
Jessica, on the other hand, felt a constant knot in her stomach. Every practice, she'd catch Miss Howe watching her with a knowing glint in her eye, and every time the coach talked about finding new talent, her heart would skip a beat. Rachel was the only one who knew the truth, and she had promised to keep it to herself. Together, they hoped the storm would pass without Bailey ever finding out.
But fate had other plans. One evening after practice, when the last of the Varsity squad had filtered out of the gym, Miss Howe called Jessica back. Rachel shot her a concerned look, but Jessica waved her off, trying to put on a brave face. "What's up, Coach?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Miss Howe's eyes bore into hers, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Why didn't you tell me it was your little sister in that video, Jessica?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm.
Jessica felt the blood drain from her face. She'd been caught. "It wasn't...I didn't...it was just a joke," she stuttered, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.
Miss Howe raised an eyebrow. "A joke that got everyone's attention?" she said, her voice measured. "Your sister has talent"
There it was again. The word "sister".
Jessica inwardly cursed. Miss Howe thought Bailey was her "sister". It was hard not too. Bailey was a fairly gender neutral name after all and not only that, he was a small guy with longest hair and a rather dainty frame. Plus, in the video, his face had been blurred out. It was pretty easy to make the wrong assumption given the evidence.
Miss Howe leaned in, her eyes searching Jessica's. "Jessica, if that's your sister, I want to talk to her. That's the kind of talent we could use on the JV squad."
Jessica sighed. No turning back now. "Yeah, that's my sister. Like I said, it was a joke. She didn't know anyone was filming it. She was just screwing around, she's not really..."
Miss Howe cut her off. "It doesn't hurt to talk right? I just want to have a conversation. She's got skill, Jess. We really need her"
Jessica felt trapped. If she didn't play along, she might ruin her brother's life. But if she did, she'd be setting him up for a world of embarrassment. "Okay, I'll tell her," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Shit. This whole thing was turning into a really big mess.
At home that night, Bailey was deep in a virtual firefight with his friends, the glow of the screen casting shadows across his room. He was in the zone, the digital world of the game more real to him than the mundane reality of school and family. A knock at the door broke his concentration, and he groaned, pausing the game. "Come in," he called out, expecting it to be his mom with a snack or a reminder about his homework.
Jessica poked her head in, her expression unreadable. "Hey," she said, her voice tentative. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"
Bailey was surprised. Jessica barely ever visited his room anymore. They used to be very close when they were little. When their parents married, he and Jess were alone. Neither of them had siblings. So they became close fast, like real siblings. As they grew up, they often forgot they were step-siblings. It helped that they were both blonde and looked very similar.
But as they hit their teenage years, Jessica's popularity grew and Bailey's love for gaming and his own interests grew apart from hers. So, when she knocked on his door, it was unusual.
He looked up from his screen, blinking away the virtual world and into the real one. "What's up?" he asked, his voice still thick with the excitement of the game.
Jessica hovered in the doorway, her eyes flicking between him and the floor. "I...uh, I need to tell you something," she said, her voice tight with tension.
Bailey felt a pang of unease. His sister rarely talked to him about anything important anymore. Most of their interactions were filled with good-natured teasing or her asking him to help her with her homework. He set down the controller he was holding and turned to face her fully. "What's up?"
Jessica stepped into the room, her cheerleading bag slung over one shoulder. She took a deep breath, her eyes searching his. "So...about that video," she began, her voice trailing off.
The color drained from Bailey's face.
"So it turns out the cheer coach has seen it and thinks the girl in it is wonderful" said Jess with a good natured laugh.
The mention of "girl" was not lost on Bailey. "Girl?"
"Miss Howe is pretty persistent' continued Jess with a sigh. "She figured out pretty quickly that we're related and well she thinks my little sister is amazing. She said something about raw talent"
Bailey felt his heart drop. "But I'm not a...you know what I mean. That was just for fun!"
Jessica nodded, her eyes pleading. "I know, I know. But she's not letting it go. She wants to meet you. She thinks you could be amazing for the JV squad."
If Bailey had been drinking, he probably would have spit it all over his computer screen. As it was, he was shocked that someone would think he was a girl.
He tried to recover his senses. "I look nothing like a girl"
Jess raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Bailey felt a sudden heat in his cheeks. It was true. He had been avoiding mirrors lately, the reflection not quite matching the person he felt inside. His voice remained high pitched and his body hadn't begun to fill out like his friends'.
He had always brushed it off as being a late bloomer, but the truth was, it was starting to get to him. The whispers in the hallways, the occasional awkward glance from his classmates, it all added up. And now, here was Jessica, hinting that even his own sister didn't completely see him as a boy.
"Well, I guess I'm not exactly...manly," he mumbled, his eyes cast down at his skinny wrists.
Jessica studied him for a moment, really studied him. His hair had grown out over the summer, brushing against his cheekbones and touching his shoulders in a way that made his features look softer than she remembered. His skin was smooth and unblemished, and in the right light, he could almost pass for a girl. It was like looking at a younger version of his mother.
But it was more than that. It was the way he held himself, the way his hips swayed slightly when he walked, the way he talked with his hands. Now, with the cheer routine, it all clicked into place. He'd been living in her shadow for so long, mimicking her every move, that maybe it had become a part of him. Had she accidentally influenced him without knowing it? She felt bad for not paying attention to him for awhile.
Jessica's heart went out to him. "Look, I know you're not into cheerleading, but maybe it's something to think about. It could be a fun way to connect, you know?"
Bailey looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not into cheerleading," he said firmly. "I mean, I don't hate it, but it's just not my thing."
Jessica nodded, understanding his reluctance. "Look, just think about it, okay?" she said, her voice softening. "You've got a couple of days before I have to tell her anything. Maybe it's not so bad, you know? It's just a conversation. No pressure."
Bailey sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I'll think about it," he muttered, not looking at her. "But I'm pretty sure cheerleading is not for me."
Jessica nodded, backing away. "Okay, just think about it," she said, her voice gentle. "We'll talk later."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Bailey alone with his racing thoughts. Cheerleading? Him? The idea was ludicrous. But the more he thought about it, the less absurd it seemed. It was just a conversation, she had said. No pressure. But what if Miss Howe didn't just want to chat? What if she wanted him to actually join?
The next day, during a particularly dull math class, he couldn't help but spill his guts to Elena. They'd been friends since the first grade, and she had always been the "one of the guys" type. Her short hair and love for sports made her fit in perfectly with his group. He knew he could trust her. Plus, she'd been there the day of the bet. "You're not going to believe this," he whispered across the aisle.
The teacher glared at them, so he promised to tell her after class.
Elena waited for him outside the classroom, her curiosity piqued by his urgent whispers. Her eyes searched his face as he approached, looking for any signs of a joke. But Bailey's expression was deadpan serious, the light in his eyes had dimmed. "Spit it out," she said, crossing her arms.
Bailey took a deep breath, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. "So somehow Miss Howe, the cheer coach, saw that video of me doing the cheer routine. She thinks it's some amazing talent and wants to talk to me about joining the JV squad."
Elena's eyes widened. "What? You're kidding me!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.
Bailey's face flushed. "I wish I was," he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's all because of that dumb bet."
Elena started laughing as they walked down the hall. "Flailing around like that, I bet she thought you were a girl"
Bailey gave her a look. Her eyes widened.
Before either of us could say anything though, the bell rang and we rushed into our respective classrooms. Hers was down the hall.
At lunch, Elena met Bailey by hid locker. She had a smirk on her face, clearly still enjoying the situation. "So, are you going to take the cheer coach up on her offer?" she asked, her voice filled with mischief.
Bailey scoffed as he put away his books. "She thinks I'm a girl, Elena"
Elena chuckled. "Well, you do kind of look like one" she said, not unkindly. "I mean, you've got the hair for it, and you're pretty nimble...and cute"
Wait, cute, Elena thought he was cute? Where did that come from?
Bailey felt his cheeks go redder than a cherry in the sun. "Thanks, I guess?" he mumbled, slamming his locker shut.
Elena just shrugged, grinning at his reaction. "What can I say, you've got the moves!"
They continued to their usual spot in the cafeteria, the smell of greasy food and the din of a hundred conversations assaulting their senses. Elena grabbed a tray and started piling on food, but Bailey's stomach felt like it was doing flips. He couldn't decide if it was excitement or dread.
As they approached the table, Alex looked up, his eyes widening when he saw them. "Hey, guys," he said, his voice a little too cheerful.
Dave, on the other hand, had his usual deadpan expression, not even bothering to hide his surprise. "What's going on with you two?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seats.
Bailey shrugged. "Same old, same old"
They sat down and the four of them began to chat about the latest games they've been playing. The tension from the hallway dissipated as they dived into their usual banter. When they talked games, they got competitive. That's how the whole bet started in the first place. Then Alex had to film it. Bailey wasn't sure it was Alex but he knew neither Dave or Elena would do something like that to him. He was pissed for a little while then he got over it. Now he was a little annoyed by the whole thing again.
Lunch talk was all about games. When the bell rang, they all went to different classes. Bailey tried focusing on school and less about his "impending doom" as he thought of it. He went through the day thoroughly distracted.
After school, Elena found him at his locker again. "So, are you going to talk to Miss Howe?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Bailey slammed his locker shut, the echo echoing through the now mostly empty hallway. "I don't know," he said, his voice filled with uncertainty. "What if she figures out I'm not a girl?"
Elena's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Then you show her the girl she thinks you are"
"What?" he asked, dumbfounded and confused.
Elena rolled her eyes. "Be a girl, dumbo".
Bailey looked at her like she had just suggested he jump off the roof. "What?"
Elena took his hand and pulls him along, her grip firm. "Come on, it'll be fun. Besides, it's the perfect way to figure out if you can pull off being a cheerleader"
Bailey was so confused.
Elena dragged him to her house, they lived on the same street after all.
The moment they stepped into her room, a whirlwind of emotions hit Bailey. The walls were plastered with posters of female athletes, a stark contrast to his own posters of gaming heroes. It smelled faintly of her vanilla body spray, a scent that always brought a sense of comfort. But today, it was suffused with a hint of dread.
Elena flung open her closet door, revealing a rainbow of clothes. "Pick something," she said, her eyes dancing with excitement.
"What?" he asked, looking at the closet full of clothes he knew Elena wouldn't be caught dead wearing. "Wait, where the heck did all this come from?"
She sighed. "My mother is trying to convert me"
Bailey snorted. "I can't see you wearing any of that"
"Exactly" she said with a roll of her eyes. "Now pick something."
Bailey looked over the clothes, his hands shaking. "But I can't...I mean, what if people find out?"
Another eye roll from the annoyed tomboy. "No one is going to find out, dumbo. Its just you and me here. Look we need to see if you look like a girl, right?"
Bailey swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the door. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice shaky.
He reluctantly looked into the closet.
He picked out the least "girly" looking outfit he could find, a simple navy blue skirt and a white t-shirt. He went into her bathroom and tried it on, feeling like an idiot for letting her talk him into doing this. He was surprised though, It was a lot more comfortable than he thought it would be. He even did a little twirl, which he hated. After taking a few breaths, he emerged from the bathroom. He felt a bit ridiculous but also...not entirely terrible.
Elena took one look at him and burst out laughing. "You totally look like a girl!" she said, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
He grimaced at her. "There, we proved it. Now I'm changing back"
He tried to go back into the bathroom but she stopped him. She dragged him over to her dresser where there was a collection of hair clips. She used a pair to pin back his bangs. Then she used some cherry lip gloss to give his lips some pop. She giggled when she said that out loud.
She made him look in the mirror. Neither one of them said a thing, they were speechless. There in the mirror, reflecting back at him, was a fourteen year old girl, more or less.
"Shit" said Elena, finally breaking the silence.
Bailey looked at himself in the mirror, his heart racing. The person looking back at him was definitely a girl, or at least looked like one. He had to admit, it was a bit...cool. But it was also incredibly terrifying. He had never felt more exposed in his life.
Bailey was so dumbfounded by his reflection, he didn't even notice her take a pic of him.
"Well we now know you can pull off girl without an issue" Elena finally said with a smirk.
Bailey nodded, his eyes still glued to the mirror. He couldn't believe it. The thought of going to cheer practice dressed like this was absurd. But what was even more absurd was that it didn't look entirely ridiculous. He took a deep breath, feeling the skirt brush against his legs. "Okay, okay," he said, tearing his gaze away from the reflection. "Let's get me out of this."
Elena couldn't help but laugh as she watched him struggle to change back into his baggy jeans and t-shirt. "You know, you could totally rock that look," she said, her voice light. "You've got the legs for it."
Bailey glared at her in the mirror, his cheeks still flushed from the makeover. "Shut up," he said, but there was no heat in his voice. He felt a strange sense of relief as he put on his usual attire, the weight of the skirt and the feel of the fabric against his skin suddenly a distant memory.
****
After Bailey had left Elena's house, looking more like himself again in his baggy jeans and t-shirt, Elena couldn't help but chuckle to herself as she pulled out her phone. She scrolled through the camera roll until she found the picture she had snapped of him in the navy skirt and white t-shirt, his blond hair neatly pinned back. It was surprising how much he resembled a girl, and she knew Jessica would be pleased. She quickly typed out a text, attaching the image with a smile.
"Hey Jess," the message read. "Your brother is a natural, you were right. Thought you'd want to see this before you guys talk to Miss Howe."
When Jess had approached her yesterday about all this, she wasn't really sure she wanted to do it. But after Bailey came to her and she had to act surprised, she saw something. Something she wasn't expecting to see. Bailey looked almost excited by the idea. He hid it well but he was her best friend, she could read all his tells. As soon as she realized he might want to try, she was all onboard for Jess's plan.
Her phone buzzed and she checked the notification. It was a text from Jessica. "Oh my god," it read. "How did you convince him?"
Elena replied, "It wasn't easy, but I think he's actually kind of into it. He's probably just scared of what people will think."
Jess texted back immediately. "We got this. Rachel and I will polish him up. Come Monday, be prepared for the new and overly feminine Bailey to make her appearance"
Elena bit her lip before replying. She just hoped this was the right thing. She didn't want to help do something to Bailey that he wasn't fully onboard with. After all, he still hadn't agreed to meet with Miss Howe. After today though, she saw the way he was looking at himself. She couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't the beginning of something.
"Let's just hope its what he wants" she texted.
****
The weekend arrived, and Bailey had plans to spend it in his digital fortress, surrounded by his games and far away from any thoughts of cheerleading. But fate had other ideas.
On Saturday morning, as he was about to dive into his favorite RPG, Jessica barged into his room, followed by Rachel. Rachel was a fellow cheerleader, known for her fiery red hair and infectious smile. She was the only person who could make Jessica's strict cheer schedule seem like a walk in the park.
"Hey, Bailey," Jessica chirped, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "We need you to come with us."
Bailey groaned, not even bothering to look away from his screen. "What's so important it can't wait?"
"Now, now, little sis" she said, putting her hands on Bailey's shoulders. "Time to make you pretty"
Oh crap.
Bailey's heart raced as Jessica's grip tightened around his arm, Rachel's hand on his shoulder as they half-dragged, half-guided him through the hallway. The smell of hairspray and perfume grew stronger as they approached Jessica's bedroom, a place he hadn't been in since they were kids playing hide and seek. The door swung open to reveal a pink and white wonderland, a stark contrast to his own domain of dark colors and posters of video games.
"You're not serious," he said, his voice a mix of horror and disbelief.
"Dead serious," Rachel said, her smile wide and mischievous.
Bailey's stomach dropped as they sat him down on Jessica's bed, surrounded by glittery pillows and a vanity mirror with lights around it that made him look like he was on a reality show. The room smelled faintly of hairspray and something sweet that made him feel slightly sick.
Jessica handed him a set of pink lacy undergarments. "Put these on," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and authority.
Bailey's eyes bulged as he held up the bra and panties. "What the hell is this?"
Jessica giggled. "It's a training bra," she said, her voice filled with amusement. "Remember when I first got one? You used to call them 'boobie cages'?"
Bailey rolled his eyes but took the items from her hand, feeling the unfamiliar fabric between his fingers. "You're enjoying this way too much," he grumbled, retreating into the bathroom to change.
He didn't want to put on the bra but he found himself pulling off his shirt and struggling to put it on. He finally got it and when he turned to look in the mirror, that girl was back again. This time though, she had little boobs. He was surprised, patting his "breasts".
"What the hell is this?" he asked, storming out of the bathroom.
"Its padded" said Rachel with a laugh. "You think girls just suddenly sprout those over night?"
He stopped and remembered. One day, Jessica was flat as a board and the next she wasn't.
Jessica clapped her hands together. "Alright, let's get you dressed!"
They had picked out a simple outfit for him to wear, a stark contrast to the top and skirt he'd worn at Elena's house. A black t-shirt that hugged his chest just enough to create the illusion of curves and a pair of skinny jeans that surprisingly fit his slender legs like a glove. He felt a bit like a mannequin in a store window as they fussed over him. Rachel had brought over her makeup kit, a treasure trove of colors and brushes that seemed to be more suited for a professional artist than a high school cheerleader.
When they were done, he found himself staring in the mirror.
He looked even more like a girl now.
Rachel smacked his butt. "Where did this ass come from?"
Bailey yelped, jumping away from Rachel's hand. "What the hell, Rachel!"
She giggled but said nothing.
"Now get that cute butt in gear" said Jessica with a big smile. "We're going to the mall!"
"What?" Bailey's voice squeaked. "Why the mall?"
"We need to make sure you can pull off being a girl so people don't think you're a fraud" admitted Jessica.
"And you can't do that sitting in here all day" Rachel chimed in.
Bailey sighed and relented, allowing them to usher him into the car. As they pulled into the mall's parking lot, his heart felt like it was racing a Formula 1 car. The mall was packed with people, the cacophony of laughter, music, and chatter filled the air. The fluorescent lights glinted off the shiny floors and the smell of popcorn and pretzels wafted from the food court. It was a place he rarely visited unless dragged along by his sister. It didn't help that malls were a dying breed with most people doing their shopping online.
He was surprised to see it filled with so many people.
"Come on," Jessica said, taking his hand, her grip firm. Rachel flanked him on the other side, and together they walked through the bustling crowd like a trio of conspirators on a secret mission.
They stopped at every store window displaying the latest trends. Jessica pointed out different outfits, explaining the dos and don'ts of teenage fashion. Rachel chimed in with her own two cents, showing him how to accessorize without looking like he was trying too hard.
Bailey felt like he was in a bizarre episode of a reality show where they throw a boy into a world of makeup and heels. He listened intently, nodding along as they talked about skinny jeans versus boyfriend jeans and how to wear a crop top without showing his midriff. It was like learning a new language, and he was the awkward exchange student trying not to stand out.
They didn't actually go into any of the stores to buy anything. Jessica said it was about the experience, about getting used to the way clothes felt and how to move in them. They stopped in front of a lingerie shop, and Rachel pointed out different types of bras. "This one will give you more support," she said, holding up a lacy contraption. "And this one is for when you want to look a bit...extra."
Bailey felt his cheeks burn as he stared at the mannequins adorned in the flimsy garments. He couldn't imagine wearing something like that. But as he saw the way Rachel and Jessica talked about it, like it was as casual as choosing a shirt, he started to feel a bit more at ease. It was just fabric, right? Just a costume.
They moved on from the lingerie store, passing by a cosmetics shop. Rachel paused, eyeing the makeup display. "You know, a bit of mascara can really make your eyes pop," she said, turning to look at him.
Bailey raised an eyebrow. "Mascara? Really?"
"Trust me," Rachel said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "A little goes a long way."
They didn't buy anything at the makeup counter but the girls promised to give him a crash course on it all later. It was almost as if they suspected this wasn't going to be a one time thing. It was all a bit overwhelming for him to be honest.
But as they moved through the crowded mall, something strange happened. The more they talked about fashion and makeup, the more Bailey found himself slipping into the role of the girl they had dressed him as. He started to feel a bit more comfortable, his stride a little less awkward in the skinny jeans and ballet flats that had been thrust upon him.
By the time they reached the Food Court, the smells of greasy fast food and sugary drinks filled the air, and Bailey's stomach growled. He was about to say something about getting lunch when he noticed the glances from the boys around them. It was the same way they looked at Jessica and Rachel, but now their eyes lingered on him as well. He felt a rush of something unfamiliar, a mix of fear and excitement. Was he really passing?
"Guys, I'm starving," he said, his voice a feminine pitch without him noticing. Rachel and Jessica looked at each other, a knowing smile passing between them.
They picked a table at the back, giving them a good view of the mall's bustling activity. As they waited for their food, Bailey couldn't help but steal glances at the table of guys they'd passed by. They were older, probably seniors, and they'd noticed the three of them. Or rather, they'd noticed him. One of them, a guy with dark hair and a smug smile, had been checking him out since they entered the food court.
"Don't worry," Jessica whispered, catching his eye. "You're doing great."
Their food arrived, a greasy feast of burgers and fries that Bailey hadn't realized he was craving.
They were halfway through their meal when the dark haired boy approached the table.
"Hey Jess, hey Rach" he said, apparently knowing the two older girls.
"Oh hey Brad" said Jess, giving Rachel a look.
Brad turned to Bailey. "I don't think we've met, I'm Brad. You go to our school, right?"
Bailey wasn't sure what to do so he dumbly nodded.
Jessica laughed. "Brad this is my little sis, Bailey. You'll have to forgive her, she's shy"
Bailey wanted to kick Jess under the table but didn't.
"Hi," he said, his voice coming out a bit higher than usual. He hoped Brad didn't notice.
Brad took a seat across from him, his smile never wavering. "So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing out here with these two?" he asked, gesturing to Jessica and Rachel with a smirk.
Jessica rolled her eyes. "She's fourteen, Brad. Also my little sister like I said"
Brad leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Bailey. "Fourteen, huh? You look way older. What grade you in?"
"I'm a Freshman" said Bailey, hoping this guy would finally get a clue.
He didn't know much about girls but he knew guys well. Brad was a dick. One who clearly though flashing a smile and swagger was enough to get anything he wanted. Bailey knew the type and hated them.
"Well, fresh meat," Brad said, winking at him. "You should come hang with me and the guys some time."
"No thanks" said Bailey and he meant it.
Brad didn't look too happy but Jess and Rachel both smirked.
"Go away now, Bradley" said Rachel, waving him off like he hadn't bathed in weeks.
"See you in school, Bailey" the jerk waved and walked away.
Jessica groaned. "That one is dangerous. Stay away from him"
Bailey nodded. "I'm not that stupid"
The three of them finished up their lunch, the tension between Brad and Bailey leaving a sour taste in their mouths. They decided to call it a day at the mall. The thrill of the new experience had worn off and the weight of the situation was starting to settle in.
"Let's get you back to normal before mom and dad get home," Jessica said as they walked out of the food court. Rachel nodded in agreement.
Back home, they helped him strip off the feminine clothes and handed him his baggy t-shirt and jeans. The transformation back to 'boy' was surprisingly quick, like peeling off a mask that had somehow become a part of his skin. As he looked in the mirror, the reflection of a teenage boy stared back at him, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't stop seeing the girl at the edges of it. It was like she was imprinted on his brain and he couldn't get rid of her.
The rest of the weekend was a blur of normal activities. He played games, went for a bike ride, and even helped with the dishes. But his mind kept wandering back to the mall, to the way the clothes had felt and the way Brad had looked at him. It was weird and confusing.
On Sunday night, Jessica called him into her room. "Bailey," she said, her voice serious. "We need to talk."
"You want me to meet with Miss Howe, don't you?" he asked as he walked into her room.
"Do you want too?" she asked, curious.
He thought about it for days now and sighed. "Yeah, I think I do".
On Monday morning, Jessica and Rachel descended upon him like a pair of eager stylists. They had a plan. He was going to school dressed as a boy, but with a twist. They had picked out an outfit that was a perfect blend of masculine and feminine. A slim fit t-shirt that hugged his chest, a pair of baggy jeans that had been tailored to show off his butt, and a pair of sneakers that had a bit of a heel to them. They painted his nails a neutral color and applied just enough makeup to highlight his features without making him look like a clown.
"This is your cover," Jessica said, her voice serious. "You're going to look like a boy, but with enough girl that if Miss Howe sees you, she'll be convinced."
Bailey looked at himself in the mirror, the androgynous outfit giving him a look that was both familiar and foreign. The t-shirt was tight enough to show his new 'assets' but loose enough to pass as a boy's. The jeans were a perfect balance of baggy and form-fitting, and the slight heel on the sneakers gave him just a bit of extra height.
"You're going to break hearts," Rachel said, winking at him.
Bailey felt his cheeks redden under the light dusting of blush. "I don't know if I can pull this off."
Jessica squeezed his shoulder. "Its just for today. You just need to meet with Miss Howe, tell her No and then go back to being you"
"What if she doesn't buy it?" he asked.
"Trust me," Rachel said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "You look great."
With a deep breath, Bailey followed Jessica and Rachel out of the house and they drove to school. The hallways were a blur of faces, some familiar, some not. As they walked, he felt the stares. People whispered as they passed by, their eyes lingering on his outfit. It was like wearing a neon sign that said 'Look at me!' But the more he walked, the more comfortable he became. He realized that while some people were looking, others were just going about their day. It was like he was invisible, but in a good way.
The bell rang and he made his way to class. The teacher barely glanced at him as he took his seat, and he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Was it really that good of a disguise? But then, as the lesson started, he saw Elena. Her eyes went wide, and she gave him the tiniest of nods. He knew she knew, but she didn't say a word. She was in on the secret, the only one of his friends who knew about this whole "girl thing".
Later in the day, Jessica finally brought him to Miss Howe's office. His heart was racing, and he felt like he was about to throw up. Rachel had given him a pep talk in the bathroom beforehand, but it was hard to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. As they approached the office, he could see the coach through the glass window, her sharp eyes scanning over some papers. She looked up and her eyes widened. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she took in his outfit.
Miss Howe was a tall, athletic woman with a blonde ponytail that bounced as she walked. Her smile was warm but firm, like she was about to give a pep talk before a big game. She looked like the kind of person who didn't take no for an answer, which made his mission all the more daunting.
"Come in," she said, her eyes lighting up as she saw Jessica and Rachel. "Bailey, right?"
Bailey nodded, his throat dry as a desert. "Yeah, that's me."
Miss Howe's office was a shrine to the school's cheerleading legacy, with trophies and photos lining the walls. Her desk was organized chaos, with notes and papers scattered in a way that only she could navigate. She motioned for him to sit, and Jessica gave him a gentle nudge.
"So, Jessica tells me you're interested in joining the JV squad," she began, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Bailey sighed and looked at his sister but she looked as surprised as he did.
"No" he finally said, choosing his words carefully.. "She said you wanted me to join the JV squad".
Miss Howe leaned forward, her eyes shining with excitement. "Well, your sister has quite the talent for cheer, and when I saw that video..." she trailed off, her gaze drifting to Jessica.
"Its just me having fun with friends" Bailey admitted. "They dared me to do it, I didn't know one of them was filming it. I didn't even know it was on the internet until later. I'm sorry but I'm really not interested in cheerleading"
Miss Howe's smile never wavered. "I understand, but talent like that doesn't come around often. Just one practice, that's all I'm asking. If you don't like it, you never have to come back. What do you say?"
Bailey felt the weight of Jessica's expectant gaze. She had done so much for him already, and he didn't want to let her down. Plus, there was that tiny part of him that was curious. He'd always liked the way the cheerleaders looked in their uniforms, the way they moved with such confidence and grace. He didn't dare admit it out loud, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try.
He sighed. "Ok, I'll be there"
Miss Howe's eyes lit up. "Great!" she exclaimed. "Practice is Wednesday after school. You won't regret it."
Monday and Tuesday passed in a whirlwind of "girl lessons" that Jessica and Rachel had planned for him. They taught him how to sit, how to walk, how to laugh without sounding like a hyena. They even had him practice his voice to get that perfect mix of sweet and sassy. They showed him how to do his hair in a ponytail that didn't look like he'd stuck his head through a donut. They had him try on different types of makeup, teaching him the basics of concealer and mascara, the importance of blending and subtlety.
Before it had been about passing as a girl to fool Miss Howe but now it was about being a girl.
Wednesday came and Bailey found himself dressed in the same type of workout clothes he'd worn in the video, but this time they were his own. His heart was racing as he walked into the gym, feeling like he was about to take a dive into a pool without knowing how to swim.
Miss Howe saw him and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She clapped her hands and called everyone over. "Girls, this is our newest recruit, Bailey!" she announced.
He sighed inwardly. The woman was already making him apart of the team.
The squad looked at him, a mix of confusion and excitement in their eyes. They had clearly been expecting someone else, someone more...feminine. But they were cheerleaders, after all, and good cheer was part of their DNA. They all chorused a welcome, and Bailey felt a weird thrill at being the center of their attention.
Miss Howe didn't waste any time, launching into a series of stretches and warm-ups. He followed along, trying not to trip over his own feet in the unfamiliar shoes. The girls were surprisingly supportive, offering smiles and encouragement as he struggled with the more graceful moves. He'd always been flexible but this was a different kind of flexibility, one that involved a lot more wiggling and smiling.
The first few routines were simple, but as the practice went on, Miss Howe started to throw in some more complex moves. The music blared, the smell of sweat and the squeak of sneakers on the shiny floor filled the air. The girls around him were a blur of color and energy, and he couldn't help but get caught up in it all. He stumbled a few times, and the giggles from the squad made him blush, but he pushed through.
He knew these ones. They were the same ones that Jessica used to practice. He took to them like a duck to water.
The JV squad looked at him with a mix of excitement and skepticism. They had seen the video, heard the rumors. One of them, a petite brunette named Tiffany, stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Tiffany," she said, her voice high and cheerful. "I'm so excited to have you join us!"
Tiffany was a bundle of joy. Her personality was like cotton candy, sickly sweet and impossible to ignore. She had a way of making everything seem like the most exciting thing in the world, and it was hard not to get swept up in her enthusiasm. She had a way of moving that was all bounce and energy, like she was made of rubber and sugar.
"You're going to love it here," she said, her eyes wide with genuine excitement. "Cheerleading is like a sisterhood. We stick together no matter what."
Bailey nodded, trying to keep his cool. "Thanks, Tiffany."
Practice went on, with Miss Howe pushing them harder and faster. He found himself getting into it, his body moving in ways he didn't know it could. The routine was like a dance, and he was starting to find the rhythm. When it was over, he was drenched in sweat, his muscles aching in a way they never had before.
As the girls gathered their things, Miss Howe approached him, her expression unreadable. "So, what do you think?" she asked, her voice softer than he'd heard it all practice.
Bailey wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his heart still racing from the exertion. "It was... fun," he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Miss Howe's smile grew. "I knew it! I can see the passion in your moves, the way you catch on so quickly."
Bailey shrugged. "It's just something I've always done to mess with Jess," he admitted, trying to play it cool.
Miss Howe leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, Bailey, if you ever decide you want to join us for real, the offer's always open."
He nodded, unable to hide his smile. "Thanks, I'll think about it."
As he left the gym, the elation of the practice still buzzing through his veins, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had just been accepted into a new world. The girls had treated him like one of their own, and the rush of adrenaline from performing the routines was like nothing he'd ever felt playing video games or watching movies. It was as if he had discovered a hidden talent, a secret part of himself that had been waiting to come out and shine.
On the ride home, Jessica bombarded him with questions, her eyes alight with excitement. "How was it? Did you love it? Tell me everything!"
But all he could manage was a tired smile and a shrug. "It was...interesting."
Jessica's eyes narrowed. "Interesting? That's all you're going to give me?"
Bailey sighed. "Ok, it was more than interesting. It was...exhilarating."
Jessica's eyes grew wide. "Really? Like you actually enjoyed it?"
He sighed heavily. "I think I did"
Jessica squealed. "I knew it!"
Bailey rolled his eyes but he couldn't fight the grin that spread across his face. "Don't get too excited. It's just one practice."
But Jessica's excitement was infectious. "One practice can turn into two, and then maybe even more," she said, nudging him playfully. "I'm so proud of you."
The rest of the week, Bailey's thoughts swirled like a tornado in his mind. The feeling of belonging at cheer practice was something he hadn't experienced since he was a kid playing with action figures while Jessica played dolls. The only people he could share these confusing emotions with were Jessica, Rachel, and Elena. Jessica and Rachel were his biggest cheerleaders, pushing him to embrace his newfound talent. They talked about it non-stop, planning his outfits for future practices and strategizing his next moves.
Elena, however, remained neutral, her gaze thoughtful whenever the topic came up. She knew him better than anyone, and she could see the turmoil behind his eyes. She didn't push, but her silence spoke volumes. Her friendship was a safe haven amidst the storm of cheerleading fever that had taken over Jessica and Rachel. In the quiet moments, she would ask him what he really felt, and he would mumble something about it being weird but fun, unsure of what that really meant.
Saturday night, he had a dream where he was a cheerleader on the field, shaking his pom poms and doing his routine. He was over the moon and loved every minute of it. When he woke up, his heart was pounding and he was excited. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so alive, so...free. The dream clung to him like a warm blanket, and he didn't want to leave it behind.
He didn't tell anyone about it but he knew he'd made his decision.
Monday rolled around and Bailey found himself in Miss Howe's office after school. She looked up from her desk, surprised to see him.
"You're here," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Does this mean you've made a decision?"
Bailey took a deep breath, his heart racing. "Yeah, I want to try out for the JV squad," he said, his voice firm.
Miss Howe held back her enthusiasm. "Good on you"
The week flew by with Jessica and Rachel in a tizzy of preparation. They picked out the perfect outfit for the tryout, something that would show off his skills without being too flashy. It was a delicate balance. Rachel suggested a pink and black number that Jessica thought was too 'girly' but Bailey felt confident in. It was like a second skin, molding to his body.
Bailey was the only one trying out. It was specifically for him after all. Miss Howe and a few of the squad were there to witness it. Jessica and Rachel were present as well.
Miss Howe looked at him, her eyes gleaming. "Ready to show us what you've got, Bailey?"
He took a deep breath and nodded. The music started, and he was off. His body moved with a grace that surprised even himself. The cheers from Jessica and Rachel filled the gym, mixing with the thumping beat. He executed each move flawlessly, his muscles remembering the routine from the countless times he'd practiced with them.
The tryout was a blur of smiles and applause. When he finished, the gym was silent for a moment, and then erupted into cheers. He looked over at Jessica and Rachel, who were jumping up and down like they'd just won the lottery. Miss Howe was clapping too, a proud smile on her face.
"Welcome to the squad, Bailey," she said, extending her hand. "You're a natural."
Bailey took her hand, his heart racing. "Thanks, Miss Howe."
The squad gathered around him, offering high fives and welcoming smiles. He felt like he'd just scored the winning touchdown at a football game. But as the excitement died down, reality crashed in like a wrecking ball. He had to tell his mom.
That night at dinner, Jessica took the lead. She told their mother about the tryout, leaving out the part about the video. She painted it as a spontaneous decision, sparked by the coach's interest in his talent. Their mother looked skeptical, her eyes flicking between her two children. Then Jessica dropped the bomb: Miss Howe thought Bailey was a girl. Bailey read his mother's face, trying to gauge her reaction. It was a big thing. After all, he didn't want to deceive anyone.
"Why would she think that?" Their mother asked, her voice calm but firm.
Bailey sighed heavily. "Let's be honest Mom, I'm not the manliest of men"
"Bailey, you can't...I mean..." Their mother wasn't sure what to say.
Jessica looked at him. "Bailey, show her. We'll wait"
Bailey nodded and went upstairs. He got some of the clothes that Jessica lent him and quickly dressed in them, including using the padded bra. He still couldn't do his makeup as good as Rachel did but he tried his best. Then he brushed out his hair, put on the ballet flats and came back downstairs. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, their mother gasped.
"Bailey," she whispered, her hand over her mouth.
"I know Mom" he said and everything over the last few weeks hit him at once.
He started crying. Jessica was on her feet in an instant, hugging him tightly. Then their mother was hugging him. They were like that for awhile.
When he was done crying, his mother looked at him with a soft expression. "Is this a phase, sweetie?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Bailey took a deep breath and pulled away from the embrace. "At first, I thought it was," he admitted, his voice a little shaky. "But the more I did it, the more...it just felt right."
His mother's expression was a mix of confusion and concern, but there was something else in her eyes that he hadn't expected: understanding. "Bailey," she said slowly, "you know you can tell me anything."
He nodded and took a deep breath. "I don't know, Mom"
The room was still, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall. His mother studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his. Then she took a step back, her arms dropping to her sides. "Okay," she says finally. "Let's sit down and talk about this."
They move to the living room, the couch cushions sinking beneath their weight. "I just want to be clear, Bailey," she starts. "Cheerleading is a fantastic activity, but I need to know if this is something you truly want to pursue, or if it's just because of the bet and the attention."
Bailey looks down at his hands, twisting in his lap. "It started as a bet," he admits, "but then...I liked it." His voice is barely a whisper. "When I was up there, dressed like a girl, I felt...different. Good different."
Their mother's expression softens. "It's okay to explore, sweetie," she says. "But it's important to be honest with yourself and with others. If this is something you truly enjoy, then we'll support you."
The next day, with a mix of nerves and excitement, Bailey and Jessica walked into Miss Howe's office together. The coach looks up from her desk, a puzzled expression crossing her face.
"What's going on, you two?" she asks, her eyes flicking between them.
"Miss Howe," Jessica starts, her voice strong and steady. "There's something we need to tell you."
Miss Howe's eyebrows shoot up, and she leans back in her chair, waiting.
"Bailey's not a girl," Jessica says, her voice clear and firm. "He's my brother. And he's been practicing cheer as a joke because he's really good at it."
"I know, Jess" she said with a knowing smile. "I've always known actually. Your brother is very cute but the school records listed him as Male. I get why you tried to hide it and I'm not upset"
Miss Howe's revelation was like a weight lifted off their chests. The coach leaned forward, her expression serious as she continued. "Cheerleading isn't just about being a girl, it's about spirit, teamwork, and skill. And your brother has all that in spades."
Bailey's eyes widened. "You knew?"
She grabbed his hand gently. "If you want to explore, explore. You still have a spot on the squad, boy or girl. You have amazing talent and you need to nurture it"
Miss Howe's words hung in the air like a gymnast in mid-air. "But..." he began, "What about everyone else? They'll know."
She waved it off. "This isn't Florida or Texas, no one will care"
Bailey and Jessica looked at each other, stunned. They hadn't expected this. They had prepared for the worst but it seemed they were in the presence of a coach who truly saw beyond the surface.
"Thanks, Miss Howe," Jessica managed to say.
"No, thank you, Jessica. For bringing such talent into our school," Miss Howe replied with a warm smile.
The next day, their mother met with the principal, Mrs. Castillo, who was known for her progressive views. She explained the situation, her voice steady and unwavering. To their surprise, Mrs. Castillo was incredibly supportive. She spoke of the school's gender-inclusive policy, which encouraged students to explore their identities without fear of judgment. The principal promised to handle any potential backlash with sensitivity and firmness.
With his mother's blessing and Miss Howe's reassurance, Bailey arrived at school the next day dressed in a gender-neutral outfit. He'd picked out a loose sweater and skinny jeans, and Rachel had done a minimal makeup look for him, just enough to highlight his features without screaming 'girl'. He felt a strange mix of excitement and dread as he stepped into the hallways.
Elena, ever the loyal friend, was by his side, her arm slung casually around his shoulders. They walked through the sea of students, heads turning but not in the way he feared. Most of them had already seen the video and knew the story. The whispers followed them but they were more curious than cruel.
Alex cracked some jokes, his usual self. Dave just shrugged.
The rest of the school day was surprisingly...normal. No one pointed fingers, no one laughed out loud. They all just took it in, whispered, and moved on. It was like the school had collectively decided to be mature about it.
At lunch, as he sat in his usual spot with Elena and the guys, he saw Tiffany waving at them. He looked around to make sure she was actually waving at him, but she was already making her way over with a tray of food. She sat down with a wide smile, her cheer squad friends following suit. "You looked amazing at the tryouts!" she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Alex leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, you're a cheerleader now, huh?"
Bailey rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips despite his best efforts. "You're partial responsible."
Alex lowered his head. "Sorry dude"
Bailey looked at him. "Why? If it wasn't for you, I never would have discovered something I love"
Alex shrugged. "I guess I had a part in it. And hey, you're pretty good at it"
Bailey couldn't argue with that. He had surprised himself at the tryouts. The way his body moved, the ease with which he picked up the routines, and the sheer joy he felt performing, it was undeniable. He had found something that made him feel alive.
But it was more than that. It was the acceptance he felt from the squad, the way they had rallied around him and supported him from day one. It was the way Miss Howe had looked at him, not as a joke or a mistake, but as a true member of the team. It was the way his sister had beamed with pride when he'd nailed the final jump, her voice lost in the sea of applause.
Bailey had always felt like the odd one out, the one who didn't fit in anywhere. But here, in this gym with these girls, he felt like he had finally found his place. He didn't feel like a fraud anymore, not like he was just pretending to be something he wasn't. He felt like he was becoming the person he was always meant to be.
When he walked into the gym, the squad broke into applause. Tiffany rushed over, her smile so wide it looked like it might split her face in two. "You're officially one of us!" she exclaimed, giving him a bone-crushing hug.
Miss Howe handed him his new red and white cheer outfit. He almost cried, especially when he saw the skirt.
The room was a sea of happy faces and the sound of clapping hands. The girls surrounded him, their energy bouncing around like a pinball machine. Each one offered a hug, their arms tight around him, their laughter ringing in his ears. It was a strange feeling, being the center of this storm of estrogen. But it was a good kind of strange, the kind that made him feel like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Then Jessica and Rachel rushed over, their faces flushed with excitement. They hugged him so hard he thought his ribs might crack. "You did it, Bailey!" Jessica said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. Rachel pulled back, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You were amazing," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
The funny thing was, at the beginning of all this, it was just him messing around. He still wasn't sure what he was doing but it felt like the right direction.
That night, while playing Call of Duty with Elena, he couldn't help but keep glancing at the cheer outfit hanging on his door. The red and white fabric was like a siren's call, reminding him of the excitement of the day, the cheers, the camaraderie, and the way his heart had raced when he'd nailed that final jump.
Elena's voice cut through the gunfire on his headset. "You okay, man?" she asked, pausing the game.
Bailey blinked, tearing his gaze away from the outfit. "Yeah, I'm just...thinking," he replied, his voice distant.
Elena's voice was soft through the headset. "Heavy stuff"
He sighed, pausing his own game. "You think I'm doing the right thing?"
Elena's voice was gentle over the headset. "Bailey, it's not about what I think. It's about what makes you happy."
Happy? Was he happy? He thought he was happy before. He thought he was living the life he wanted, playing games and...wait...what else did he do besides gaming? He wasn't into sports, his stepfather Greg had tried. He tried other things but none of them really stuck either. When he started to watch Jessica cheer in the backyard it was mostly because he was bored. At least he thought that was the reason? Was he secretly jealous? Was it because he was living in her shadow? Or was it because he secretly wanted to do it himself?
"Bailey," Elena's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "You okay?"
He looked up, realizing he'd been silent for a few moments. "Yeah, sorry. Just a lot on my mind."
"It's okay," Elena said. "But you can talk to me, you know. We're friends. I might not be Alex or Dave but..."
He cut her off. "You're definitely way better than those two idiots. I mean did you see their faces earlier?"
They both giggled.
Elena. "How long do you think it will be before Alex tries asking you out?"
Bailey groaned. "I didn't even think of that"
His mind flashed back to his encounter with Brad in the food court and he shuddered.
"Well its something to consider. You're a pretty girl now" said Elena, her voice trailing off.
"You think I'm pretty?" he asked, flushing slightly.
"Well duh"
They fell into an awkward silence until Elena suggested they get back to kicking butt.
The week that followed was a blur of practices and hanging out with his old friends while navigating the new terrain of his identity. At school, Bailey felt like he was straddling a fence between two worlds. Some days he'd come in with his hair styled and a touch of makeup, others he'd wear his usual baggy t-shirts and jeans. The whispers had died down to an occasional murmur, replaced by a quiet curiosity and acceptance from his classmates.
Cheer practice became his sanctuary, a place where he could truly be himself. Whether he was dressed as a boy or a girl, the squad didn't seem to care. They treated him the same, their encouragement and high-fives never wavering. Tiffany had taken him under her wing, teaching him the finer points of the sport, and the other girls had followed suit, sharing tips on tumbling and stunts.
He felt like one of the girls.
The day of his first football game had arrived, and with it came a mix of anticipation and dread. As he slipped into the crisp, new cheer outfit, the fabric whispering against his skin, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of belonging. The skirt fluttered around his legs as he practiced his cheers in the mirror, the pom poms feeling surprisingly natural in his grip.
On the sidelines, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the other cheerleaders, Bailey felt a rush of adrenaline as the crowd roared to life. The team took the field and the game kicked off. He watched as the players collided with a thunderous impact, feeling the tremble of the turf beneath his sneakers. The squad's routine was flawless, each cheer executed with precision and passion. He was a part of this, a cog in the well-oiled machine that was the cheer squad.
He remembered phrase that Tiffany kept using when they practiced:
"Its cheertastic!"
As he waved his pom poms, he realized it really was.
The End
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
In the middle of Mrs. Green's lecture on quadratic equations, a sudden coughing fit erupted from the back of the classroom. Alex looked up, his curiosity piqued. It was Tyler, the school's star quarterback, his face reddening as he tried to stifle the hacking sounds. Mrs. Green paused, her eyes narrowing as she glared over her glasses at the disturbance. Tyler stood up, his six-foot frame towering over the small desks, and excused himself to the bathroom, his friends snickering under their breath.
The bell finally rang, releasing the students into the chaotic symphony of the hallways. Alex gathered his books and shuffled out with the rest of the class, his thoughts still lingering on Tyler's strange behavior.
As he made his way to his locker, he noticed a group of kids huddled around Tyler, who was now visibly sweating and looking even more distressed. Alex's friend, Jenny, pushed through the crowd and whispered, "Dude, Tyler's really messed up"
Alex approached cautiously, his concern growing as he saw the normally stoic jock leaning heavily against the row of lockers. Tyler's voice, now unmistakably strained, cracked as he tried to reassure everyone he was fine. The hallway buzz grew to a murmur as whispers of "What happened to Tyler?" floated through the air.
The school nurse, Mrs. Hartman, who was known for her stern demeanor and no-nonsense attitude, emerged from her office and bustled over. After a brief conversation with the gym teacher, she instructed two of Tyler's friends to help him to the nurse's office. Alex couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, so he decided to hang back and wait outside the office, his curiosity getting the better of him.
He didn't get very far before Coach Green found him. "Alex, this isn't a good place to be bud"
Alex nodded and wandered back down the hall to his next class.
"So what they say?" asked Max, Alex's bespectacled best friend and the third member of their famous trio.
Alex shrugged. "Coach told me to leave"
"I heard Carrie West was coughing pretty bad in English too" said Jenny, her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.
Now that piqued Alex's interest. Tyler and Carrie were dating after all.
"You don't think they caught something...like the Rona...do you?"
Alex laughed. That was ten years ago, the world was better prepared for outbreaks now. At least that's what they kept saying in science class and on TV.
But the whispers grew louder as the day went on. More and more kids started leaving class, their faces a mix of confusion and fear. By midday, the classrooms were practically empty, and the rumor mill was in overdrive. Alex couldn't ignore it anymore. He texted Tyler, but there was no response. The last message Tyler had sent was a series of confused emojis and a photo of his hand, now covered in a bizarre rash.
At lunch, the cafeteria was only half full.
Alex found Max and Jenny sitting at their usual table, this time joined by Marcus Jones, one of Tyler's teammates.
"Dude you hear from Tyler at all?" asked a concerned Marcus when Alex sat down.
He showed the three of them the text he got from Tyler earlier.
"What the hell is up with his hand?"
"Look at his nails" Jenny pointed out.
Alex zoomed in on the photo. Tyler's nails were definitely longer? The rash looked like it was spreading up his forearm, too. Before he could say anything, a new text popped up on the screen from his Mom:
**Mom:** "Alex, what's going on at school? Is it something serious?"
Alex's thumbs danced over the phone screen as he relayed the morning's events. His mother's response was swift and firm: "Stay put. I'm coming to get you."
The trio exchanged worried glances as Alex tucked his phone away. The cafeteria's usual cacophony of laughter and chatter had been replaced by hushed tones and the occasional sound of a phone buzzing.
"This is freaky," Max murmured, pushing his glasses up his nose. "What could be happening?"
Alex's eyes darted to the clock. "Mom said she's on her way. Let's just wait and see."
But waiting was the last thing Alex could do. The whispers grew into a roar as the news spread through the school: Tyler and several others had been quarantined in the nurse's office, and no one knew why. Alex's phone vibrated again. It was his mom, with an update. Her text sent shivers down their spines:
**Mom:** "Alex, the school is being quarantined. No one is allowed to leave. There's a medical emergency."
Alex's heart skipped a beat as he read the text. Quarantined? A medical emergency? What could be so serious?
With trembling hands, he texted his mother back, trying to keep his panic in check. **Alex:** "Mom, what's going on? Is it like... a new virus or something?"
Her response took a painfully long time to come through. **Mom:** "Alex, stay calm. Yes, it appears to be a new virus. It's all over the news. No one knows anything for sure yet, but it's affecting a few students at school. Stay put, don't touch anything, and keep your distance."
Just as Alex was about to ask another question, the school's intercom crackled to life, interrupting the hushed whispers.
**Principal Hargrove:** "Attention Middleborough High School students and staff. This is Principal Hargrove. I know there are many rumors circulating right now, but I want to assure you that we are taking every precaution. We are currently experiencing an unprecedented medical situation. A few of our students have exhibited symptoms of a new virus. We are working closely with the CDC and local health officials to ensure everyone's safety."
**School Nurse Peterson:** "As of now, we are asking all students and staff to remain in their classrooms. Do not attempt to leave the school. We will be providing updates as soon as we have more information. Please stay calm and follow all instructions from the teachers and staff."
The principal's voice was firm but wavered with a hint of fear, and it was clear that the gravity of the situation had finally hit home. Alex, Max, Marcus and Jenny exchanged terrified glances, the color draining from their faces. The cafeteria, which had been buzzing with whispers and worried murmurs, now fell silent.
Mrs. Peterson stepped into the cafeteria, her usually stern face etched with concern. "Listen up, everyone," she called out, her voice carrying over the quiet room. "As Principal Hargrove said, we are dealing with a new virus. We need you all to remain calm and follow the instructions of the teachers and staff."
The cafeteria was a tableau of fearful faces, with some students openly crying and others clutching onto their friends. Alex, Max, Marcus, and Jenny huddled together, their lunches forgotten. The nurse's eyes scanned the room before landing on them. She walked over, her shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor.
"What's going on?" Alex asked, his voice small.
Mrs. Peterson sighed heavily, her eyes sweeping over the quartet. "We're still trying to figure that out," she admitted. "But we need to keep everyone safe. It seems to be affecting people differently, and we don't know how it's spreading."
Alex felt his stomach drop. Different symptoms? This was worse than he thought. "Is Tyler okay?" he managed to ask.
Mrs. Peterson's expression softened. "I can't give you details, but he's being taken care of."
The group nodded solemnly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Jenny spoke up, her voice trembling. "What do we do now?"
Mrs. Peterson's gaze darted around the room before returning to them. "For now, stay put. Finish your lunch and then return to your last period classes. We're trying to keep things as normal as possible."
They didn't touch their food but the four of them complied, carrying their trays back to their empty table and sitting down. The clatter of silverware and the faint smell of disinfectant hung in the air, a stark reminder of the chaos that had enveloped their school. Alex felt his stomach churn, the uneaten food taunting him.
The bell rang, a mournful toll that signaled the end of lunch and the start of their next period. The trio plus Marcus stood up, their legs wobbly from a mix of fear and adrenaline. Alex cursed, his heart sinking when he realized his next class was science, which none of his friends had. He took a deep breath and nodded to them, trying to look braver than he felt.
"Stay safe guys" he said before they all split up.
Alex walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the empty lockers. The posters that usually brightened the walls now seemed like sad relics of a time before fear had taken hold. He tried to put on a brave face as he stepped into the science classroom, but his knees felt like jelly. The room was a ghost town, with only a handful of students present. The teacher, Mr. Baker, looked as rattled as everyone else, his eyes bloodshot and his tie askew. He began the lesson with a forced smile, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.
Alex took his seat at the back of the room, his thoughts racing. He couldn't stop thinking about Tyler and the other kids who had been taken away. Was it airborne? Was he next? The clock on the wall ticked away, each second feeling like an eternity.
Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't even realize someone sat next to him until she said, "Hey"
He jumped, startled and turned to see his lab partner, Alicia. Alicia Lee, a pretty Korean American girl he'd had a crush on since well he realized what crushes were. She was amazingly pretty and super smart. She was also best friends with Carrie if he remembered correctly.
"You okay?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.
Alex nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just worried about Tyler," he managed to say.
Alicia's eyes filled with understanding. "I know," she whispered. "Carrie's in the nurse's office too."
Alex felt a surge of fear for both Tyler and Carrie. "What's happening to them?"
Alicia's eyes searched his, looking for answers he didn't have. "I don't know," she said softly. "But it's not just them. Other kids are changing too."
He took out his phone and showed her the text and picture Tyler sent earlier.
"That's... weird," she murmured, leaning in to look closer.
Alex nodded, his throat tight. "It's more than weird. It's scary."
Alicia's hand reached out and gave his a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out," she assured him, though her own fear was palpable.
Just as Mr. Baker was about to dismiss the class, the intercom crackled to life again.
**Principal Hargrove:** "This is an urgent update for all Middleborough Middle School students and staff. Due to the evolving medical situation, we are now implementing a full school quarantine. Everyone must remain in their current classrooms until further notice. Teachers, please lock your doors and follow the instructions in your emergency protocol packets. Stay safe, everyone."
The classroom erupted into a cacophony of gasps and whispers. Alex's hand shot up, his eyes wide with panic. "Mr. Baker, what does this mean?"
Mr. Baker's face had gone pale. He cleared his throat and tried to sound calm. "It means we're going to stay put, everyone. Just follow the protocols." He shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk and pulled out a thick, emergency binder. "I'll be right back." He left the room, his footsteps quick and unsteady.
The students looked at each other, fear painted on their faces. The whispers grew louder, questions bouncing off the walls like a pinball machine in overdrive. The room was hot and stuffy, and Alex couldn't help but feel like he was suffocating. He wished he could just leave, find his friends, and figure out what was happening.
It didn't take long for the assembled students to realize Mr. Baker was not coming back.
"What do we do?" one of them, Mandy George, asked, her voice high-pitched and trembling.
Alex swallowed hard. "We wait," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Mr. Baker will come back with instructions."
"The hell he will" said Steve Roberts, who'd been sitting near the window for awhile now. "The fat ass is currently bolting toward his car"
Alex rushed to the window, his heart in his throat. Sure enough, Mr. Baker was halfway across the football field, his tie fluttering behind him like a white flag of surrender. The sight was surreal, a stark contrast to the stoic figure they knew.
"What a fucking coward" grunted Chet , another one of Tyler's football teammates.
The students looked at each other in disbelief. Some began to laugh nervously, trying to ease the tension with humor, while others started to panic. Alex felt his heart race as he moved to the door, trying the handle. It was indeed locked.
"Its locked" he said, defeated.
"What move" said Chet, pushing him out of the way and trying the handle himself without success. "The fat fuck locked us in"
He threw his considerable muscular bulk at the door with little success.
"Chet, stop," Alex said firmly, trying to be the voice of reason amidst the panic. "We can't break the door down."
Chet stepped back, breathing heavily. "What do we do then?" he asked, his voice thick with frustration.
Alicia spoke up, her voice calm but firm. "We need to stay calm and figure this out together."
The class looked to Alex, expecting him to have a plan. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Alicia's right. We can't panic. We're in this together."
He turned to the smartboard, where Mr. Baker had left the protocol instructions. "We should start by reading these."
The room fell silent as the group of fifteen students gathered around the board. The emergency protocol was dense with information, but it was clear that their situation was dire. The instructions talked about containment, personal protective equipment, and the importance of not touching each other or sharing anything. The gravity of their predicament settled in their stomachs like a cold stone.
"Okay, everyone," Alex said, his voice firm but shaky. "We need to stay calm. We're going to follow the protocols and wait for help."
The class nodded, though fear was etched into every face. They were all aware of the seriousness of the situation, and the fact that their teacher had abandoned them didn't help.
Alex read through the protocols, his eyes scanning the information as quickly as he could. "Alright," he began, trying to sound authoritative despite his own fear. "First, we need to check if anyone else is showing symptoms."
The students looked around nervously, but no one admitted to feeling sick. Alicia suggested they use the classroom phone to call the nurse's office for an update, but no one answered.
Everyone tried their smartphones but there was no wi-fi.
"What the fuck?" gasped Charlie Parker, pissed and annoyed.
"The signal's down," said Alex, his voice shaky. "It's probably part of the quarantine protocol."
Alicia nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay, we need to keep everyone calm and see if we can find any information on our own."
"I say we just go out the window" said Chet, Steve and a boy named Jake agreeing with them.
"We're on the third floor, idiots" snapped a red headed girl named Rebecca.
Chet shot her a glare. "Better than rotting in here," he muttered, but didn't push the issue.
Arguing amongst themselves was going to get them nowhere and Alicia made everyone aware of that.
"Look," she said, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the chatter. "We can't just sit here and argue. We need to stay focused."
The room fell quiet again, and Alex felt a newfound responsibility. They were on their own, and it was up to them to keep each other safe. "Alicia's right," he said, trying to project calm. "We need to figure out what we can do."
They turned to their backpacks, which held the last vestiges of normalcy in this rapidly unraveling world. Slowly, they began to unpack what they had, laying them out on the nearest desk like a sad, makeshift buffet. There were a few water bottles, some granola bars, and a couple of apples. It wasn't much, but it was something. Alex hoped it would be enough to keep them going until help arrived.
Mrs. Hartman had mentioned that the virus was causing various symptoms, but none of them had seen anything that extreme yet. That didn't mean it couldn't happen to any of them, though. He glanced around the room, looking for any signs of sickness in his classmates. Everyone looked tense, but otherwise okay. For now.
The loudspeaker crackled to life once more, interrupting the uneasy silence. This time, it was the voice of Principal Hargrove. "This is a critical update for all students and staff. The virus has shown rapid progression in some individuals. We are now experiencing a higher than anticipated infection rate. We are taking additional measures to ensure everyone's safety."
Alex's eyes darted around the room, his heart racing as he took in the implications of the principal's words. The other students' faces were a mix of shock and dread. "What does that mean?" Mandy whispered, her voice shaking.
**Principal Hargrove:** "We are now enforcing a strict curfew. After the final bell, no one is to leave their classrooms. Security will be conducting regular checks. If anyone is found outside of their designated area, they will be immediately placed in isolation for their own safety."
"We can't leave" spit Chet, glaring at the door.
Alex ignored him and nodded to the principal's instructions. "Alright, everyone, let's stay put. We're going to be here for a while." He glanced at the clock. "We've got about twenty minutes until the next bell."
The bell rang, echoing through the halls like a mournful gong. The finality of it sent a chill down Alex's spine. They were trapped here until further notice. The students settled into their seats, trying to make the best of the situation, but the silence was heavy and uncomfortable.
Moments later, they heard footsteps approaching the classroom door. The handle jiggled, and the door swung open to reveal Mr. Jenkins, the school's burly security guard. His face was a mask of confusion as he took in the sight of the locked door and the room full of anxious teenagers.
"What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room. "Where's Mr. Baker?"
"You tell us" said Steve, annoyed.
"Fatty bolted" snapped Chet.
Mr. Jenkins's eyebrows shot up, and he stepped into the room, his hand on the radio at his hip. "What do you mean?"
Alex took a deep breath. "Mr. Baker said he was just going to check something and never came back. We tried calling the office and the nurse, but no one's picking up."
Mr. Jenkins frowned, his brow furrowed with concern. "Okay, everyone, stay put. I'll go find out what's happening." He stepped back into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind him. The lock clicked into place, leaving them once again isolated.
"He fucking locked us in again!" groaned a frustrated Chet.
"It's probably for our own good," Alicia said, trying to keep the peace. "They're just trying to keep everyone safe."
The class nodded in reluctant agreement, though the tension in the room remained palpable. The minutes ticked by like hours, each one heavier than the last. Alex found himself pondering the fate of Tyler and the others in the nurse's office. He hoped they were okay, that this was all just a bad dream that would end when the school day ended.
But the school day didn't end. The final bell never rang. Instead, they heard the distant echo of a siren, growing louder by the second. Through the classroom windows, they watched as a fleet of emergency vehicles pulled into the school's parking lot, their lights flashing a chaotic ballet of red and blue. The sound of slamming doors and urgent shouts filled the hallways outside their room, but no one came to explain what was happening.
Alex felt his palms growing slick with sweat as he tried to keep his composure. "Guys, we need to stay calm," he said, his voice echoing the instructions they'd heard from their teachers earlier that day. "We don't know what's going on, but we can't help if we panic."
Alicia nodded, her eyes reflecting the fear that lurked beneath her bravado. "Alex is right. We should keep the room organized and wait for someone to come and explain."
The door jolted open, and everyone jumped. Mr. Jenkins stormed in, his face a picture of concern. Two EMTs followed closely behind him, their medical bags clinking as they moved with a sense of urgency.
"Everyone, please remain calm," Mr. Jenkins barked, his eyes scanning the room.
The EMTs stepped forward, their faces hidden behind masks and visors. "We're here to check on everyone's health," one of them announced in a muffled voice.
Alex's heart was racing as he watched the EMTs move through the room, checking temperatures and asking questions. The sight of the medical personnel in their masks only served to amplify the fear that was already thick in the air.
"Everyone, please form a line and we'll check you one by one," the second EMT instructed, her voice calm and steady.
Alex was the first to step forward, his knees wobbly with fear. The EMT took his temperature and checked his pulse, her eyes meeting his briefly before she nodded and moved on to the next student. Alicia was next, her expression a mix of determination and fear.
The EMTs worked quickly, their movements efficient and methodical. They checked everyone's vitals, asking questions about symptoms and if anyone had been in contact with Tyler or Carrie. The class watched in silent terror, each one waiting for their turn, hoping they weren't the next to show signs of the mysterious virus.
As the EMTs moved through the line, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that they were hiding something. Their eyes darted around the room, and their whispers were too low to make out. The tension grew with every passing second, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and fear.
When the EMTs finished checking everyone, Mr. Jenkins stepped forward. "Alright, everyone. Someone will be here with cots and blankets in a few minutes"
"We're sleeping here?" Chet said, sounding less than thrilled.
Mr. Jenkins nodded, his expression unreadable behind his mask. "Until we can get this under control, yes."
The class murmured in disbelief, the reality of their situation sinking in. They were to spend the night in their science classroom, with no way of knowing what was happening outside their locked door.
Mr. Jenkins nodded gravely. "I know this isn't ideal, but it's for everyone's safety. We're setting up a makeshift shelter in the gym, but we need to keep the potentially exposed separate."
Alex looked around the room, his stomach in knots. They were being treated like lab rats in an experiment gone wrong. The EMTs passed out boxes of paper masks then left as quickly as they had come, leaving them with more questions than answers. The students began to murmur among themselves, some sharing theories about the virus, others expressing fear for their families.
The sound of wheels squeaking against the linoleum floor grew louder, and soon a janitor pushed a cart loaded with cots into the classroom. "Where do you want these?" he asked Mr. Jenkins, his voice muffled behind his own mask.
Mr. Jenkins pointed to the far corner of the room. "Set them up over there. We'll need enough space for everyone to stay apart."
The janitor and Mr. Jenkins moved the desks and stacked them in the corner. Then together they set up the 15 cots they brought, they all barely fit in the room.
"Looks like we're going to be cozy," Steve said with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
Mr. Jenkins nodded. "Make yourselves comfortable. Remember, no leaving this room unless it's absolutely necessary." He paused, looking around the room one last time before adding, "And keep those masks on."
With a heavy sigh, Alex took his mask from the box and put it on, the paper feeling cold and uncomfortable against his face. The rest of the class followed suit, the sound of rustling plastic and shuffling feet the only noise in the otherwise silent room.
The janitor and Mr. Jenkins left, the door locking behind them with a resounding click. The class looked at each other, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. "What do we do now?" Mandy asked, her voice small and muffled through her mask.
Alex took a deep breath. "We should get some rest while we can. We're going to need it." He walked over to the cots and picked one, sitting down heavily. The burlap gave a little under his weight, the metal frame squeaking slightly. The others followed suit, arranging their backpacks into makeshift pillows and trying to get comfortable.
The room grew quiet as they settled in, the only sound the occasional cough and the distant murmur of adults in the hallway. Alex's mind raced with thoughts of Tyler and Carrie, wondering how they were coping with whatever was going on. He had so many questions, but now wasn't the time for answers.
As the hours dragged on, the room grew darker, the only light coming from the moon outside the windows. The cough grew louder and more persistent, pulling Alex from his fitful sleep. He sat up, his heart racing as he tried to locate the source of the sound. The coughing grew worse, and soon it was clear it was coming from a girl, who was doubled over in the cot next to him.
Alicia, who had been lying on her cot, jumped to her feet and rushed over. "Mandy, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
Mandy tried to nod, but her body was wracked with coughs. Her eyes watered, and she pulled her mask down to cover her mouth, her face pale even in the moonlit room. "It's...it's just allergies," she managed to croak out between gasps for air.
But Alex could see the fear in her eyes, and it mirrored the fear in his own heart. He knew it wasn't just allergies. The cough was deep and harsh, the kind that didn't come from a simple sneeze. It was the cough of someone fighting something much more serious.
The room grew tense as everyone sat up in their cots, the earlier camaraderie replaced by a thick veil of fear. Alex felt the eyes of his classmates on him, looking for guidance. He swallowed hard, his throat dry from the mask.
Chet rushed to the door, banging on it wildly, screaming for help.
"Chet, stop!" Alex called out, "You're just making it worse!"
Chet ignored him and continued to pound.
"Chet, stop!" Alex yelled again, his voice echoing through the classroom. "You're wasting your energy!"
But Chet was beyond listening, his panic rising with every unanswered knock. His fists grew red and raw, and the desperation in his eyes was unmistakable. Alex knew he had to act before the situation spiraled out of control. He jumped up from his cot and sprinted over, grabbing Chet's shoulders firmly. "We're in this together," he said, trying to calm him down. "We need to stay strong for Mandy."
The room fell silent as the coughing subsided into pitiful whimpers. Alicia took the lead, walking over to Mandy with a bottle of water and a concerned look. "Here," she said, handing it to her, "Take small sips."
Mandy nodded, her eyes teary and grateful, as she took the bottle and sipped the cool liquid. The class watched on, their own fears amplified by the vulnerability of their classmate. Alex felt his stomach drop as he realized that the virus could affect any of them.
"We should keep an eye on each other," Alex suggested, trying to regain some semblance of control. "If anyone starts feeling sick, we tell Alicia or me right away, okay?"
The class nodded solemnly, and Chet slumped against the door, his breathing ragged.
As the night progressed, the quiet was broken only by the occasional cough or whispered conversation. Alex and Alicia took turns keeping watch over Mandy, whose condition seemed to be worsening. Her cough grew more persistent, and her breaths grew shallower with each passing hour. The air in the room grew thick with the scent of fear and sickness.
Then, from across the room, another cough echoed through the darkness. Steve sat up with a start, his eyes wide and his hand flying to his mouth. The class held their collective breath as he coughed again, his body shaking with the effort. The coughs grew in intensity, and soon, the sound of his distress was impossible to ignore.
"I...I think I'm okay," Steve managed to say between gasps, his voice strained and muffled by his mask. But the worry in his eyes told a different story. Alicia rushed over to him, her own fear reflected in the way her hands trembled as she felt his forehead.
"We need to keep an eye on everyone," she said, her voice steady despite the panic bubbling just beneath the surface. "If anyone else starts showing symptoms..."
Chet scoffed, pulling off his mask. "A lot of fuck this is doing"
Alex knew Chet was right. The masks were a flimsy barrier against whatever was happening outside the classroom, but the sight of Mandy's distress was too much for him to handle. He marched over to the supply cart, grabbed a handful of antiseptic wipes, and tossed them to Chet. "Here, at least clean up."
The room was a cacophony of nervous whispers and coughs, each one louder and more alarming than the last. Alex's mind raced as he tried to think of what to do next. He knew they couldn't just sit there and wait for the inevitable. They had to find a way to help Mandy and Steve and protect the others.
"Alicia," Alex called out, his voice calm despite the chaos, "we need to check everyone for symptoms. Maybe we can figure out if it's spreading."
Alicia nodded, her expression grim. She began to move from cot to cot, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness as she inspected each student's face, looking for the telltale signs of the virus. The air grew heavier with each cough, each sniffle, and each bead of sweat that rolled down a forehead.
"This is BS" said Steve, who only coughed once. "I'm fin..."
His body seized, he gasped and fell to the floor. He started to scream, clutching his chest.
Alex and Alicia rushed over, their eyes wide with horror. "Steve!" Alex shouted, dropping to his knees beside him.
But it was too late. Steve's body was already convulsing as the virus took hold. His muscles bulged and shifted beneath his clothes, his face contorting into an expression of pain and confusion. Within seconds, his entire form began to change, his body stretching and reshaping before their very eyes.
"What the hell is happening?" Chet yelled, his voice cracking with fear as he stumbled backward.
"It's the virus," Alex murmured, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched Steve's transformation unfold. "It's changing him."
Alicia's hand shot to her mouth, her eyes filled with terror as she took in the scene before her. Steve's body was shrinking, his clothes becoming baggy, and his features softening. His hair grew longer, cascading down his now feminine face, and his skin took on a paler hue. The coughing had ceased, replaced by painful gasps as his body adjusted to its new form.
"We need to help him," Alicia whispered, her voice shaking as she reached out a trembling hand to touch Steve's shoulder.
But Alex knew it was too late. The transformation was complete. Where Steve had been, now lay a girl, her eyes wide with shock and confusion, looking around the room as if she had no idea where she was or what had just happened to her. The rest of the class stared in disbelief, their masks hanging forgotten around their necks.
"Steve?" Mandy's voice was a whisper, her hand shaking as she reached out to touch the new girl's arm. "Is that...?"
The girl looked up, her eyes meeting Mandy's. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice now a soft, feminine tone. It was clear she had no memory of the change, no understanding of the bizarre turn of events that had just unfolded.
"It's...it's the virus," Alex managed to explain, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's...changing us."
The room erupted into chaos. Some of the students started crying, others were shouting in panic. Alicia's hand hovered over Steve's forehead, her mind racing with what to do next. The fear in the room was palpable, a thick fog that suffocated any sense of calm.
"Everyone, sit down and put your masks back on!" Alex's voice cut through the panic, firm but not unkind. He knew they needed to keep their cool if they were going to get through this.
Slowly, the class complied, their eyes never leaving Steve's transformed body. The new Steve looked up at them, her eyes searching for answers in the sea of confusion.
"This can't be real," someone murmured from the back of the room.
Alex took a deep breath, his mind racing. "We need to stay calm," he said, his voice a shaky attempt at authority. "We're in this together. We have to figure out what's happening and how to deal with it."
Alicia nodded, taking over the role of caretaker. She began to instruct the class on how to monitor each other's symptoms, emphasizing the importance of staying hydrated and rested. Despite their fear, the students began to listen, realizing that panic would only make things worse.
"We're going to get through this," she said, her voice strong and reassuring. "We have to stick together and help each other out."
Alex watched as the class slowly began to organize themselves, some comforting the new Steve, while others searched the cabinets for medical supplies. The sight of their classmates' fear and confusion only hardened his resolve to find answers. He approached Alicia, who was speaking softly to the trembling Mandy.
Alex gestured her over to the corner where they talked in whispers.
"Steve was fast, one cough and poof...girl" said Alex, still a little bit shocked.
Alicia nodded. "Remember Tyler, you said he was still sick in the hall and he later texted you that rash hand. Neither Steve nor Mandy has any rash"
He nodded. "Mandy is still sick too, feverish even"
"This virus makes no sense. Its effecting people in different ways" she said, scared.
Alex agreed. "We need to find out more about it." He glanced around the room. "We have to use what we have. Maybe there's something in the science books that can help us understand."
Alicia nodded, her eyes scanning the bookshelves. "I'll start looking," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "You keep an eye on everyone."
Alex took charge, his heart racing as he tried to keep the panic at bay. He began to patrol the room, offering reassuring smiles and words to those who needed them. The new Steve was sitting up now, looking dazed and lost in her new body. Mandy's cough had grown worse, and Alex could see the worry etched on Alicia's face as she tended to her.
An hour later, Mandy's condition took a dramatic turn. Her coughing fits grew more severe, and she began to sweat profusely. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for help, as she tried to hold onto the last threads of consciousness. Alex watched in horror as her body began to twitch and spasm, mirroring Steve's transformation.
"Alicia!" he called out, unable to hide the urgency in his voice.
Mandy's body convulsed again, and this time, the transformation was as swift as it was terrifying. Her coughing subsided, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. As the room watched in stunned silence, her form began to shift. Her limbs grew longer, and her features hardened. Her clothes tightened around her, no longer fitting the body they had been designed for. Whereas Steve had turned into a girl, it was clear Mandy was becoming a boy.
"Mandy, no!" Alex rushed to her side, but Alicia was already there, her hand on Mandy's shoulder, trying to keep her still.
The new Mandy looked up, her eyes filled with fear and confusion, her voice now deep and gruff. "What's happening to me?" she choked out.
Alex and Alicia exchanged a worried glance. "It's the virus," Alex said gently. "It's flipping our genders"
"What do we do?" The new Mandy's voice was hoarse and unfamiliar.
Alex swallowed hard, trying to maintain composure. "We need to keep you both comfortable and monitor any changes," he said, looking over at Alicia for confirmation. She nodded, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation.
The class had gone silent, the only sounds the occasional rustle of fabric as the new Steve and Mandy tried to adjust to their transformed bodies. The moon cast eerie shadows across the room, adding to the tension as they all grappled with the reality of their predicament.
They both agreed to swap clothes, given the situation. Everyone in Middleborough wore a simple school uniform consisting of short sleeved white button shirts and black pants for boys and white short sleeve buttoned blouses and black pleated skirts for girls.
Everyone in the room gave them privacy as they swapped everything, including underwear.
"Shit" gasped the new Steve in the dark. "I think my boobs are bigger than Mandy's were"
"Fuck you" grunted Mandy's new voice from somewhere in the dark.
Alex couldn't help but crack a nervous smile at the absurdity of the situation. "Okay, okay. Let's keep it together," he called out, trying to diffuse the tension. "We're all in this together."
They managed to get the new Steve and Mandy into their respective clothes, and the class reassembled in the moonlit room. The sight of Mandy now with short hair and broader shoulders was jarring, but the urgency of the situation didn't allow for much time to process the changes.
"We need to think," Alicia said, her voice steady. "We can't just sit here and wait for something to happen."
Alex nodded. "You're right. We have to find out more about this virus and figure out how to stop it or reverse it."
They tried the phone again, hoping against hope that someone would answer. But the line remained eerily silent, the dial tone a cold reminder of their isolation.
"It's useless," Chet muttered, slamming the receiver down. "No one cares."
Alex nodded, his thoughts racing. "We can't rely on outside help," he said, looking around the room. "We need to figure this out ourselves."
The night passed in a fitful haze of sleep. In the morning, the class awoke to find another transformation had occurred. Charlie, who had been a boy, now lay in his cot, his body altered into a girl's form. The room was filled with a mix of horror and fascination as they stared at the latest victim of the mysterious virus and her ample chest, straining against Charlie's shirt.
There was a lot of blushing from the boys, including the new Mandy much to his surprise.
"Okay, okay, let's keep it together," Alicia said, taking charge again. "We need to help Charlie find better..."
A girl from the back groaned. Her name was Clara and she was a pretty big chested girl as well. "Come here Charlie, I keep a spare bra in my bag"
The class watched as Clara, now looking very motherly, helped Charlie tie the bra in the dim light. It was a surreal moment, one that brought a brief sense of normalcy to the chaos. The new Charlie, still groggy from the transformation, mumbled her thanks, her voice now a mix of shyness and embarrassment.
Alex couldn't shake the feeling that they were all just characters in a terrible, twisted fairy tale, each waking up to a new body and a new set of challenges. He turned to Alicia, who was busy distributing granola bar pieces and water from the emergency supplies.
"We can't just sit here and watch each other change," he said, his voice tight with anxiety. "We need a plan."
Alicia nodded. "We should keep a log of symptoms and changes. Maybe there's a pattern we can find."
They quickly set to work, creating a makeshift chart on the board. Each student wrote down their current condition, any new symptoms, and the time of their last transformation. The room was filled with whispers and hushed tones as they discussed what they were feeling and what they had noticed about their classmates.
Mr. Jenkins walked in, his face etched with concern. He took in the scene before him, his eyes lingering around the room, and then on the chart they had created. "Have you had any..."
"Three" said Alex, pointing toward Steve, Mandy and Charlie.
"That makes 32 now" said Mr. Jenkins with a sigh.
Alex and Alicia looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?" Alex asked.
Mr. Jenkins took a deep breath. "It's happening everywhere. The entire school is affected, maybe the whole town."
Alex's heart sank. "What do we do?"
Mr. Jenkins looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the new Steve, Charlie and Mandy. "Well the recently changed are being allowed out of quarantine and brought to the gym where we've set up a bit of makeshift shelter area"
Alex felt a surge of hope. "So we're not just going to be left here?"
Mr. Jenkins shook his head. "They're trying to limit the spread of the virus. We know a few things now. One, it doesn't seem to affect adults, two its different in everyone..."
"And three?" asked a fearful Becky.
Mr. Jenkins sighed. "You're all infected"
The room grew still. No one moved, no one talked. The gravity of the words hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating any hope that had been present. Alex felt his chest tighten, the realization of their plight fully setting in.
"What do we do now?" Becky's voice was barely a whisper.
Mr. Jenkins paused before speaking. "We follow protocol. We need to keep the sick isolated, and the healthy need to stay as healthy as possible. Like I said, those three" He pointed to Steve, Mandy and Charlie. "Have to come with me. You lot have to stay here. The less this spreads, the better hope of figuring it out"
"But you said we're all going to lose our dicks though" snapped Chet, clearly not taking the news well.
Mr. Jenkins sighed, his expression one of weary patience. "I said you're all infected. Not all of you will turn into girls. But we have to be prepared for it."
The room remained still, the weight of their situation pressing down on them like a heavy blanket. Alex looked around at his classmates, their faces a mix of fear, anger, and disbelief. He felt a strange sense of responsibility wash over him, knowing that he had to be strong for everyone.
"We'll be okay," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "We just have to stick together and keep each other safe."
There were murmurs and nods.
Mr. Jenkins left with Steve, Mandy and Charlie who told everyone to be safe.
Now they were down to 12.
Alex took the lead again. "We need to keep a closer eye on each other," he said, his voice firm. "We're all going to take shifts watching over everyone. If someone starts showing symptoms, we need to know immediately."
The remaining classmates nodded in agreement, the gravity of their situation sinking in. They divided into groups and began to monitor their health, taking turns to rest and eat from the dwindling supply of granola bars and bottled water. The science room, which had once been a place of learning and curiosity, had turned into a makeshift hospital ward.
Midday approached, and with it, three more of their classmates began to show symptoms. Rachel, a shy girl who had been sitting quietly in the corner, started to cough. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she looked around the room. Alex rushed to her side, feeling her forehead and noticing it was hot to the touch.
"We need to keep her cool," Alicia instructed, handing over a wet cloth.
Rachel's cough grew worse, and soon, the transformation began. Her body writhed and twisted, and when it was over, Rachel was a boy, looking up at them with the same shock and confusion that Steve and Mandy had shown the night before.
"What the...?" Rachel's voice was now deep and raspy.
Alex and Alicia helped Rachel sit up. She looked down at her new body with a mix of horror and amazement. Rachel had always been petite, and now she had broad shoulders and muscular arms. The boys couldn't help but gawk, and the girls couldn't help but feel a twinge of lust.
Rachel looked up at Alex, her eyes brimming with tears. "I feel really strong now?"
Alex nodded, trying to keep the smile on his face. "It's going to be okay, Rachel."
But Rachel was not the only one affected. The cough grew stronger and soon it was Becky and Timmy who were showing signs of the dreaded gender swap. The class watched in horror as Becky's transformation happened quickly, her body morphing into a boy's body in a matter of minutes. Timmy's was slower, his features becoming more and more feminine with each agonizing moment.
The room was now a mix of both fear and acceptance, the reality of their situation sinking in deeper with each transformation. Alex looked around, trying to keep track of who was still themselves and who had changed. It was getting harder to tell, as the dynamics of the group shifted and the line between who was who blurred.
There were now nine of them left who were still their pre-virus genders.
Alex felt a growing sense of responsibility. "We need to keep up the watch," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "We can't let anyone else be caught off guard."
The students nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. They resumed their vigil, each taking turns to keep an eye on their peers, ready to jump into action at the first sign of the virus's symptoms.
Two hours later, Mr. Jenkins returned, his face wearing a new expression of worry. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the transformed students before speaking. "I need to take Timmy, Becky, and Rachel with me now."
Alex felt his stomach drop. "What's the tally up to now?"
Mr. Jenkins's eyes were sad. "I can't say for outside but in the school, we're at 66 now with your three friends there"
"Shit, its getting faster" Said Alicia with a grim expression.
Alex nodded. "We can't let it get out of hand. We have to be ready for anything."
Mr. Jenkins paused, his gaze drifting over the makeshift chart on the board. "You're doing a good job, Alex. Keep it up."
Alex nodded, trying to hide his anxiety as Rachel, Becky, and Timmy were escorted out. The class watched them go, each one feeling a pang of fear for themselves and their friends.
An hour after Mr. Jenkins left, Stacy, one of the three remaining girls, gasped.
"Wi-fi is back!"
The sudden shout pierced through the tension in the room. Alex whipped his head around to see Chet holding up his phone, the screen glowing with life.
"Can we call home now?" A girl called Sara asked, hope flaring in her eyes.
Alex nodded. "Let's keep it to emergencies only," he reminded them. "We don't know if talking about this will make things worse."
Sara took out her phone with trembling hands and dialed her mother's number. The room held its collective breath as the line rang. The call went to voicemail. "Mom, it's me. We're okay, we're in the science room. Don't worry, we're safe," she said, her voice breaking. "Call back if you can. Love you."
One by one, the students tried reaching their families, but the results were the same. Voicemails filled with unanswered messages. The room grew quiet again, the reality of their isolation setting in deeper.
Alex took the phone from Sara and put it on speaker. He called 911, hoping for some news, some kind of reassurance that the outside world was still functioning. The line was busy, a continuous drone that seemed to mock their desperation.
"What if they're all busy with this?" Sara asked, her voice quaking.
Alex sighed, his own anxiety growing. "We can't just sit here and wait," he said, pacing the room. "We have to do something, find out more."
"What about the news?" suggested Chet. "Maybe they have some information."
Alex nodded and took the TV remote from Mr. Jenkins' desk. The static on the screen was replaced by a frantic news reporter, her eyes wide with panic. The words 'Gender Virus Outbreak' flashed in bold red letters beneath her. The class leaned in, eager for any information that could explain their predicament.
The reporter spoke rapidly, her voice a mix of shock and urgency. "The CDC has confirmed that the virus, which is currently affecting teenagers across the nation, is indeed swapping genders. They are urging everyone to remain calm and follow the emergency protocols issued by the government. It appears that only those under the age of 18 are susceptible to the infection."
Alex felt a mix of relief and dread. At least they weren't alone in this, but the fact that it was happening nationwide meant that help might be a long way off. The class listened intently as the reporter continued, describing the chaos that had erupted outside their school's walls. Hospitals were overwhelmed, and parents were being advised to keep their children isolated until a cure could be found.
The TV flickered and went to commercial, leaving them in silence once again. Alex's mind raced with questions. "What does this mean for us?" he thought. "How long will we be stuck here?"
"We should keep watching," Alicia suggested, her voice calm despite the turmoil in her eyes. "We might get some answers."
Alex nodded, clicking back to the news channel. The reporter was now standing in front of a local hospital, surrounded by worried parents and medical staff in hazmat suits. The scene was chaotic, with ambulances arriving and leaving at a dizzying pace.
"The government has set up temporary shelters for those affected," the reporter said. "But the rapid spread of the virus has left authorities struggling to keep up with the demand."
The room was quiet as the weight of the news settled in. The class exchanged glances, each contemplating their own fate and the fates of their families. The once-ordinary science room now felt like a bubble, floating in a sea of uncertainty and fear.
Alicia broke the silence. "We need to focus on what we can control," she said, her voice firm. "We have to take care of each other and keep the room sanitized."
"Dude, you're delusional" snapped Chet. "He said we're all infected, bro"
"I'm not a dude or a bro" said Alicia defensively.
"Not yet bud" said a despondent Chet.
Alicia sighed, trying to keep her patience. "I know it's hard to believe, but we have to stay positive and follow the protocols."
"But what if we're next?" Stacy whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
Alex knew he had to keep the class calm. "We're going to get through this," he assured her, though he couldn't help but wonder the same thing.
A bit later, the virus struck again. It was Mark, one of the more athletic boys, who suddenly doubled over in pain, his cough turning into a full-blown transformation. The class watched, both fascinated and horrified, as Mark's body began to shift into that of a girl. Alex and Alicia were by his side in an instant, providing comfort and guidance through the agonizing process.
"It's okay, Mark," Alicia whispered, her voice soothing despite her own fears. "We're here for you."
Mark's eyes, now a soft brown, searched their faces, looking for understanding and acceptance. The transformation was quick, but the silence that followed was eternal. The class stared at the new Mark, a girl with long lashes and a delicate frame, lying on the cot.
"I...I don't know what to do," Mark's new voice was high and sweet, filled with confusion.
Alex and Alicia helped Mark sit up, providing a fresh set of clothes they had managed to gather from the lost and found. "We're going to get through this together," Alex said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
"You sound like a broken record" mumbled Chet but everyone ignored him.
As the night wore on, the tension grew thicker than the silence that had settled in the room. Sara, who had been a bright, cheery presence, began to look pale. She coughed once, twice, and then a third time, a deep, racking sound that made everyone in the room freeze.
"Sara?" Alex asked, his voice tight with concern.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. "I... I think it's happening to me," she choked out, her hand flying to her throat as she felt the beginnings of the transformation.
Alex and Alicia rushed to her side, the class holding their collective breath. They had seen it before, but each time was as shocking as the first. Brad, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, now began to show signs as well, his cheeks flushing with a fever that seemed to burn from within.
"Sara, Brad, try to stay calm," Alex instructed, his voice steady as he took on the role of the group's makeshift leader. "We're here to help."
The two afflicted students trembled as their bodies began to contort and reshape before their very eyes. Sara's transformation was as quick as Mark's had been, but Brad's was slower, more painful to watch. His muscles bulged and then receded, his skin tone deepening to match the darker hue of his new identity. The class held onto each other, some crying openly, as they witnessed their friends become strangers in the most profound way possible.
Sara was a short boy now with sandy blonde hair and Brad became an exotic looking girl with olive skin and curly hair.
In the morning, Mr. Jenkins returned with a look of defeat etched on his face. He gently called for Sara, Brad, and Mark to come with him. The three of them, still reeling from their transformations, slowly made their way to the door, their new forms a stark contrast to their former selves.
"Then there were six" mumbled Chet, he was in a fetal position in the corner.
Alex surveyed those remaining. Alicia and Stacy were the only girls left now. As for the boys there was him, Chet, a guy he barely knew named Phil and Mike, the class clown who didn't really have much to be joking about currently.
Mike's transformation was something none of them could've prepared for. He had been complaining of a sore throat all morning, but when the coughing fit hit, it was sudden and severe.
"Looks like I'll get to run for prom queen now" he joked right before he doubled over and the transformation began.
The room watched in horror as Mike's body contorted and changed before them. The clownish exterior was replaced by a stunning young woman with piercing blue eyes and long, straight blonde hair. The pain was evident on his face, now her face, as she looked down at her new body with a mix of shock and disbelief.
"Mike?" Alex asked tentatively, reaching out a hand.
She flexed her fingers in front of her face then a second later, she was grabbing her new breasts. "Not bad" she said with glee. "Not bad at all"
Alicia and Stacy rolled their eyes. "Once a pig, always a pig" one of them murmured.
Chet was inconsolable now, crying in the corner, rocking back and forth.
"Look, guys," Alicia began, her voice a lifeline in the storm of fear. "We have to stay strong. We don't know when we'll get out of here, but we can't let panic take over."
Stacy nodded, wiping her own tears away. "We've got to keep it together. We can't let fear control us."
Alicia wanted to add more but she started to cough.
Everyone froze and looked at her.
"Alicia?" Alex's voice was tinged with alarm.
Alicia tried to smile, but her eyes were watering. "It's just nerves," she said, her voice a little raspy. But the cough persisted, and she couldn't ignore the way her chest felt tight.
Alex took her temperature with a trembling hand, the digital thermometer beeping its confirmation. "You're not running a fever," he said, trying to sound reassuring.
Alicia was one of the slow ones though. Alex helped her over to her coat, laying her down gently. He started to turn to get her some water but she stopped him and grabbed his hand.
"Wait" she said gently, smiling.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Something I want to do with this body" she said then pulled him forward and kissed him.
The kiss floored him because he definitely wasn't expecting it, especially from her. Sure he had a massive crush on her but did that mean that she...
"I've been wanting to do that forever" she said with a giddy smirk.
"Me too" he admitted blushing.
"There's something else too" she said, sitting up.
She started to unbutton her blouse, causing Alex to panic.
"Wait. we're 14, we...I mean..."
She smacked him. "I don't want to have sex with you idiot" she said as she quickly unfastened her bra. "I wanted to give this to you"
She handed him the bra and he looked confused. "Umm, thanks?"
"Its for when you...you know..."
He was confused for a second but then he understood.
An hour later, Alicia began to show signs of the transformation. The cough had worsened, and now she was clutching her stomach, her face contorted in pain. Alex and Stacy rushed to her side, their eyes wide with fear.
"What do we do?" Stacy whispered, her voice shaking.
Alex swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "We just have to stay with her," he said, his eyes on Alicia.
Her transformation was unlike any they had seen before. Her body grew taller, more angular, and the pain was evident in every twitch of her muscles. The class watched in awe and horror as Alicia's hair shrunk into a shaggy mess, and her features began to take on a more masculine appearance.
"It's okay," Alex lied, his hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay."
Alicia's eyes searched his, looking for truth in his words. She nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying out as her body continued to rebel against her. Her transformation was happening so fast, it was as if her body was playing catch-up with the rest of the class.
As Alicia's face took on the structure of a teenage boy, her voice dropped to a gruff, unfamiliar tenor. "Thanks, Alex," she managed to say, her hand still in his. The pain was intense, but she was determined not to show it.
The transformation was over as quickly as it had begun. Alicia, now a boy, sat up, looking down at his new body with a mix of amazement and dread. Alex helped him sit up, trying not to betray his own discomfort with the sudden shift.
Alicia flexed his muscle. "Wow" he said then laughed. "My Dad always wanted a son"
Alex wasn't sure what to say or how to react to this new Korean boy who used to be the girl he had a crush on, the girl who just kissed him an hour ago.
He finally found his words. "Alicia...I"
Alicia put a finger to Alex's lips. "Its Aaron now, babe" he said with a reassuring nod. "I had some time to think about it the last couple of days, you know"
Alicia now Aaron brushed his fingers gently across Alex's cheek.
Alex didn't hate the touch but it was different.
A moment later, Aaron confessed he was going to get undressed. The night before, Alex and Alicia discussed this. Alex went and retrieved the gym clothes he had in his back---a simple t-shirt and some shorts. No one really wanted to swap underwear for obvious hygiene reasons.
The new boy got dressed quickly enough. "This is really really weird" he said, flexing his fingers. "I'm so tall now and, wow, my voice is so weird"
"You're kinda hot now too" said a clearly flushed Stacy. "Like K-pop boy hot"
"I'm flattered Stace" said the new boy but he grabbed Alex and pulled him over. "This is the girl for me"
Alex wasn't sure how to respond. Male Alicia was surprisingly assertive.
"Oh you're blushing" he said with a laugh. "I can't wait to see that from the new you. When this is all over, I'm taking you out, ok? I have the perfect dress that I think might look really cute on you"
It was altogether a little awkward for everyone in the room.
Aaron looked at his watch, which was still on his wrist from his previous life as Alicia. "They're probably going to be here soon," he said, his new voice still sounding foreign to everyone.
The class nodded solemnly, knowing that Mr. Jenkins would be back to take the newly transformed students to the shelter. The room was quiet, filled with the sound of breathing and occasional sniffs as everyone tried to hold back their fear and confusion.
"Remember, guys," Aaron said, trying to keep his voice steady, "We're all in this together."
Mr. Jenkins walked in, his eyes weary. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Aaron, then at Mike. "It's time," he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
Aaron and Mike, still reeling from their recent transformations, slowly got to their feet. The rest of the class gathered around them, their faces a mix of sadness and fear. They had all bonded in the face of this bizarre crisis, and the thought of losing more of their friends was almost too much to bear.
"You guys are going to be okay," Alex said, trying to sound reassuring. "We'll all get through this together."
Aaron nodded, trying to hide his fear behind the bravado. "You bet we will," he said, his voice still an unfamiliar octave lower. "We're the strong ones, remember?"
Mike, now Melissa, couldn't find words. She just nodded, her eyes red from crying.
Alex looked at her, feeling his own eyes fill with tears. "You're going to be okay," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
Aaron managed a smile, his hand reaching out to squeeze Alex's shoulder. "You take care of everyone," he said, his voice now a low rumble. "And don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
Then they were gone.
Alex started crying.
The remaining students looked around the room, the reality of their situation sinking in. They were all going to change, all going to leave their old lives behind. There were only four of them left now.
"Okay, let's get cleaned up," Alex said, his voice cracking. He didn't want to break down, not with everyone counting on him.
They started to clean up the science room, which had become a makeshift hospital and support center over the past few days. The sight of their transformed classmates leaving was too much to bear, and they needed something to do to keep their minds off of it. It didn't help that their backpacks and cots were still there just how they left them.
Chet had stopped crying and was now pacing around the room. "What are we going to do?" he asked no one in particular. "How are we going to get out of this?"
"We don't" said Phil, a sense of finality in his voice.
He'd been pretty quiet the last few days, not that anyone could really blame him.
Alex looked over at him, trying to figure out what to say. "We stick together," he said firmly. "We follow the protocols and we wait for the doctors to find a cure."
The janitor, Mr. Rogers, pushed a cart into the room, the smell of food wafting through the air. It was the first real food they had seen in days, and the sight of it made their stomachs growl. He was wearing a full hazmat suit, his eyes the only part of his face visible through the clear plastic visor.
"Eat up," he said gruffly. "I don't know when the next delivery will be."
They fell on the food like it was their last meal, which, for all they knew, it could have been. The thought was sobering, and they tried to eat quickly but also savor every bite. It tasted like the most amazing food they had ever had, despite being just plain sandwiches and chips.
As they ate, they talked in hushed whispers about their futures, about what it would be like to leave the school and go home to their families. Would they even be the same people when they left this room? Would their parents still recognize them?
Mr. Rogers cleared his throat. "You should get some rest," he said, his voice muffled by the suit. "You never know what tomorrow might bring."
They nodded, swallowing the last bites of their food. The conversation had taken a dark turn, and no one felt much like talking anymore. They curled up in their cots, trying to ignore the cold fear that was creeping into their bones. The room was quieter than it had ever been, and it felt eerily empty without the others.
Mr. Rogers checked on them one last time before he left, making sure they had everything they needed for the night. He closed the door behind him, leaving them in the stark fluorescent glow of the room. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and fear, and it was all they could do not to choke on it.
They lay in their cots, listening to the distant sounds of the school that had become a prison. The clanking of pipes, the occasional shout from outside, and the muffled cries of their former classmates in the hallways. It was a grim reminder that they weren't the only ones going through this.
The next day dawned with no new transformations. Alex felt a flicker of hope. Maybe the virus had run its course, maybe they had all it had to give. They ate the breakfast Mr. Rogers brought them, trying to ignore the metallic taste of hope in their mouths. They cleaned the room together, the rhythmic motions of sweeping and wiping a comforting routine in the face of the chaos outside their door.
In the afternoon, Mr. Rogers brought a board game, a small act of kindness that seemed almost out of place in the stark room. They played, trying to laugh at the jokes and forget the fear that hovered just outside their bubble of normalcy. Chet even managed a smile, his eyes briefly lighting up as he rolled the dice.
Then it happened. Alex felt a tickle in his throat, and before he knew it, he was coughing. Not just any cough, but a deep, rattling cough that echoed through the room like a drumbeat of doom. The laughter died away, replaced by a heavy silence. He looked up, his eyes meeting Stacy's, who was frozen mid-sentence, her eyes wide with terror.
"Oh no," Stacy whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."
Alex felt his heart drop into his stomach. He knew what that cough meant. He looked at his hands, expecting to see them begin to change, but for now, they remained stubbornly the same. The room seemed to tilt around him, the walls closing in as the reality of his situation hit him like a truck. He had been the rock, the one everyone leaned on, and now he was falling apart too.
Stacy was the first to move. She rushed over to him, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling. Alex could only shake his head, unable to find the words. The others gathered around, their expressions a mirror of fear and confusion.
The cough grew stronger, and with it, the unmistakable symptoms of the virus began to manifest. Alex felt his body start to ache, his skin growing hot to the touch. His vision swam, and he had to lean against the desk to keep from falling.
He lost his balance and ended up on the floor. The room started to spin around him as the darkness crept into his vision.
Then the room was black.
Alex awoke with a start, gasping for air. His body felt... different. Lighter, softer. His throat didn't burn anymore, but something was definitely wrong. He tried to sit up, but his movements were awkward, unpracticed. He looked down and gasped.
He was in the nurse's office, but everything was different. His clothes were gone, replaced by a hospital gown that billowed around his new body. His hands, they were smaller, his skin smoother. He looked in the mirror and saw a girl staring back at him. It was him, but it wasn't. She looked a bit like his mother but with lighter hair, which was now past her shoulders.
Alex tried to stand, but his legs didn't cooperate. They felt foreign, like he had borrowed them from someone else. He had to grab the side of the bed to keep from falling over. The nurse, Mrs. Peterson, noticed the movement and rushed over, her eyes widening when she saw him sitting up.
"Alex, are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Alex's new voice was high-pitched and shaky. "I-I think so," he said, his heart racing. "What happened?"
"You gave us a scare that's what" said the nurse, checking his temperature. "None of the others blacked out like nor sleep for two days"
Alex felt his throat tighten. "How many of us are left?"
"You were actually one of the last ones, I think your friend Chet was actually the last"
Alex felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "Is everyone else okay?"
"More or less. Out of your whole classroom, Phil and Stacy ended up being immune"
Alex felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that at least two of his friends had been spared. He looked down at his new body, trying to process what he saw. His hands trembled as he touched his face, feeling the softness of his new skin, the unfamiliar curves of his cheeks and the strange weight of his hair.
"I know it's a lot to take in," Mrs. Peterson said, her voice soothing. "But you're going to be okay. We're all here to help you through this."
Alex nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice sounding so unlike his own.
"You have a couple of visitors if that's ok?"
"Oh, really? Who is it?" Alex asked, suddenly feeling a surge of hope.
Aaron came in, followed by Jenny of all people, apparently she was immune too. Her green eyes lit up when she saw him, and a smile spread across her face. She hurried over to his bed and gave him a hug. "Oh, Alex, I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief.
"Jenny, you're here too?" he managed to choke out. His voice still sounded strange to his own ears.
Jenny nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I'm here for you. The doctors said I had a natural immunity or something. Anyway, I thought I'd come and see how you're doing." She paused, her eyes darting around the room before settling back on his face. "How are you feeling, anyway?"
"Girly" he said and she punched his arm.
"Oww" he whined.
"Oh, come on," Jenny said, feigning anger as she let go of his arm. "You're just jealous that you're not as immune as I am." She grinned, her green eyes sparkling. "But seriously, Alex, how are you feeling? I know it's a lot to take in."
Alex shrugged, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Confused, I guess. I don't understand what happened to me. One minute I'm a guy, and the next..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Aaron walked over and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. We're all here for you. And you know what? You look good as a girl. I mean, you had a pretty face to begin with, but now..." He glanced at Jenny, who was grinning mischievously. "Now you're just stunning."
Jenny giggled, her green eyes sparkling. "Oh, Aaron, you're so sweet. But really, Alex, you look great. And don't worry, I'm sure you'll get used to it. I mean, you're still the same person inside, right?" She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "And hey, maybe now we'll be friends. I mean, we'll finally have something in common."
"What about Max and Marcus?"
"Hot as hell, well Marcus anyway. Max is Max but a girl" Jenny was laughing.
Aaron leaned forward, getting close to Alex's face. "I was right by the way, you are so fucking cute and that dress will look really really good on you too"
Alex blushed and Jenny looked really confused.
Aaron and Jenny were ushered out of the room after that to give Alex some time to rest.
The next week went by in a blur for Alex. He spent most of his time with Max and Marcus, who had also been transformed into girls. They bonded over their shared experiences and tried to make the best of the situation.
One day, as they were hanging out in the common room, a new girl walked in. She had short-cropped hair and was dressed in boyish clothes that didn't quite fit her new feminine figure. As she made her way over to them, Max nudged Alex and whispered, "That's Chet."
Alex couldn't believe it. Chet looked so different, but there was something in her eyes that was unmistakable. She was the same Chet he had known all his life, just in a different body. They all exchanged nervous hellos, and Chet looked around the room, taking in the changes. "It's weird, isn't it?" she said, her voice still a bit rough around the edges. "And it sucks. I miss being a guy."
"We all do," Max said, giving her a comforting pat on the back. "But we're all in this together, right?"
"Yeah," Marcus added, her voice now a soft, melodic lilt. "We're the new 'it' crowd, just with a little extra chromosome."
They shared a bittersweet laugh, the kind that comes from finding humor in the most dire of situations. Over the week, they had become a tight-knit group, navigating their new realities together. The school had transformed into a makeshift shelter, with teachers and staff doing their best to provide care and support. The hallways, once bustling with teenage energy, now echoed with the tentative steps of their changed forms.
As for the classes, they had been reimagined to help the transformees acclimate to their new genders. The first session was scheduled for the day after Alex was finally allowed out of the nurse's office. It would be led by a counselor who specialized in gender identity issues. The group decided to go together, to face this new challenge as a team.
They entered the classroom, taking seats near the front. The counselor, a middle-aged woman with a kind face and gentle voice, welcomed them and explained that the purpose of the class was to help them understand and accept their new bodies. "We'll cover topics like hygiene, fashion, and social interaction," she said, "as well as address any emotional or psychological issues that may arise."
The group nodded in unison, feeling a sense of relief wash over them. They had been dreading the thought of trying to navigate their new lives on their own. As the counselor began the lesson, they found themselves paying close attention, taking in every word. She gave them advice on how to walk, talk, and carry themselves as women, emphasizing that confidence was key.
They practiced applying makeup, with varying degrees of success, and tried on different outfits that had been donated by local stores. Alex felt awkward at first, but with each step and gesture, he started to feel a little more comfortable in his new body. Sara, who had been transformed into a boy, offered him tips on how to sit and stand gracefully. "You've got to remember to keep your shoulders back," she said, mimicking the posture of a runway model. "It's all about the illusion of length."
During breaks, they'd share stories about their lives before the virus, trying to hold onto the familiar amidst the surreal. Max talked about playing baseball with his dad, while Marcus reminisced about the time he scored a winning touchdown. Chet was quieter, still struggling with the loss of her previous identity. Alex noticed her glancing at her reflection in the mirror often, a sadness in her eyes that the others didn't see.
As the weeks went by, they began to settle into a routine. They continued to attend the gender classes, finding solace in the counselor's words and the support of their newfound friends. They started going to the gym together, working out to feel more comfortable in their bodies. Max would show Alex how to do pull-ups, while Chet would demonstrate proper form on the treadmill. They laughed and teased each other, finding the humor in their situation.
They also began exploring their new interests. Marcus discovered a passion for cooking, often bringing treats to share with the group. Sara taught them all how to play guitar, and they would gather around at lunchtime, strumming and singing under the watchful eye of the school's resident teacher cat. Even shy Chet found her voice, joining the school's drama club and landing a lead role in the fall production.
The days went by, and with each passing hour, the group grew closer. They became each other's confidants, supporting one another through the highs and lows of their new lives. They celebrated birthdays and holidays together, their bond growing stronger with each shared experience.
Alex, now Alexis, found herself thriving in her new body. She was no longer the shy, awkward boy she once was; she was confident and outgoing, with a newfound appreciation for her femininity. She and Aaron were officially dating now, not that it surprised anyone. On their first date, Aaron even got her to wear that dress he had in his closet, it fit her as perfectly as he said it would.
The day finally arrived when the school deemed it safe for the transformed students to go home. The school had become a second home to them, and leaving was bittersweet. They had all grown so much in such a short time, but the outside world was still a mystery.
Alexis looked around the room, her heart swelling with emotion. She had made a family here, and now she was about to step back into a life she didn't recognize. She had to admit, though, she was excited to see her mom and dad, to show them how much she had changed, both inside and out.
As they packed their bags, the group shared nervous glances. They had become so accustomed to the shelter of the school that the thought of facing the world was terrifying. "You guys ready for this?" Alexis asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Max nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess." He looked down at his new, slender hands. "I just hope my parents are okay with... this."
"They will be," Marcus assured him, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "They're our parents, they'll love us no matter what."
The group nodded, trying to convince themselves of the truth in Marcus's words. They had been given letters to take home, explaining the situation in detail and providing resources for their families. The school had done everything they could to prepare them for the outside world, but nothing could truly prepare them for the reality of it.
As they stepped out of the school building, the cool fall air greeted them. The world looked the same, yet everything felt different. They were all dressed in their new clothes, a mix of donations and hastily bought garments that didn't quite match their old styles. The bus ride home was filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety, their hearts racing as they approached their neighborhoods.
Alexis's house was the first stop. She took a deep breath before walking up the driveway, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with a new perspective. The door swung open, and there were her parents, looking slightly older than she remembered. Their expressions shifted from shock to disbelief and then to a warm embrace. The conversation was awkward at first, but love was the language that needed no translation. They promised to support her through this, to be there every step of the way.
The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of questions and explanations, tears and laughter. Alexis showed them how to do her hair, and her dad fumbled with a makeup brush, trying to replicate the way she had applied her blush. Her mom listened intently, nodding and smiling, her eyes never leaving Alexis's face.
As the days turned into weeks, the neighborhood began to adjust to the new faces that walked its streets. The town had seen its share of transformations, so while there were whispers and stares, there was also a sense of solidarity. People were more understanding than Alexis had feared. They had all watched the news, heard the stories, and seen the pleas for acceptance from the families of the affected.
Alexis's parents enrolled her in a local support group, where she met other teens who had undergone the same experience. The group meetings were a lifeline, a place where she could share her fears and triumphs without judgment. They discussed everything from dealing with uncomfortable situations to navigating romantic relationships in their new bodies.
Aaron came around a lot too. Alexis' family was happy to meet him. He made a good impression. Alexis made a good impression on his parents as well. Aaron was right about his Dad being happy to have a son, even if he tried not to show it.
As the school year began again, the transformed students returned to their classes. The school had made some adjustments, with gender-neutral bathrooms and more inclusive curriculums. Alexis felt a mix of excitement and fear as she stepped into the hallways, her heart racing at the sight of her old friends. But she wasn't the only one who had changed.
Many of her classmates had undergone transformations as well, and they shared knowing glances, nods of solidarity. Some had embraced their new identities fully, strutting with confidence in their new skins. Others still bore the weight of their former selves, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched.
Chet surprised people. While reluctant at first she embraced her new life as Chloe. She was even started to grow her hair out.
Alexis found her old love for soccer had transformed into a love for cheerleading. It was surprisingly empowering to encourage others and show her school spirit. The team welcomed her with open arms, and she found herself fitting in more than she ever had before.
At the first home game, she watched as Aaron took the field, surprising everyone with his love for the game. Who knew that quiet, studious Alicia would turn into such a jock. She wasn't alone on the field either. Most of the football players were girls turned guys. The whole school was practically flipped, with only a small group of them like Jenny, Phil and Stacy, who were unchanged. It was actually Stacy who convinced Alexis to try being a cheerleader.
"You've got the spirit, now just get the moves," she had said with a wink.
The first game was a nerve-wracking experience. Alexis's old friends in the stands were looking at her with a mix of curiosity and support. She took a deep breath and started her routine. Her body moved with a grace she never knew she had, and she felt alive. The crowd cheered as she pulled off a high kick.
Aaron caught her eye as he made a particularly impressive tackle. His smile lit up the field, and she couldn't help but smile back. The game was close, but their team pulled ahead in the final minutes. As the clock struck zero, the cheerleaders and the football team rushed the field, engulfing each other in a celebratory embrace. Alexis found herself wrapped in Aaron's arms, their bodies pressed tightly together. For a moment, it felt like everything was back to normal.
Just a different kind than the one before.
The virus had changed a lot. It came and went for a couple of years, leaving more than half the teenage popular gender flipped. The media started calling it GB afterwards, surprisingly fitting considering what it did. It never came back either but something strange did happen to the children of those afflicted by it but that's another story...
THE END
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Dave, with his ever-present baseball cap, was already there, tossing a crumpled napkin at the trash bin. He had the kind of laugh that echoed through the halls, a laugh that had gotten them into trouble more times than Jason could count. Kieran sat at the table, his dark eyes focused on a book, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He was the brain of the group, always eager to share his latest obscure piece of trivia. Sam, the quiet artist, was sketching something in her notebook, her pencil moving with the grace of a dancer's hand. Then there was Elena, the heart of their little band of misfits. Her glossy dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, her smile innocently lighting up the whole room.
The five of them had been inseparable since kindergarten, sticking together through the awkwardness of growing up and the endless dramas that seemed to plague their school. They had shared secrets, tears, and laughter in these very hallways. Their bond was stronger than the steel beams holding up the school roof.
Dave's laugh boomed through the cafeteria as Jason approached, and Kieran looked up from his book with a knowing smile. Sam's pencil paused mid-stroke, and she looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "What's up, Jay?" she asked, her voice a soft melody.
Jason's expression grew grim as he slid into the chair next to Elena. "I just overheard the teachers talking," he began, his voice a hushed whisper that carried the weight of their fears. "There's an outbreak in Portsville."
They all grew quiet as what he said sunk in. The news hit them like a cold gust of wind, stealing the warmth from their cheeks and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Portsville was just twenty minutes away, a neighboring town they often visited for movies and shopping. The virus had been a distant whisper, something that happened to other people in other places, but now it felt like it was knocking on their own front door.
Elena's hand reached for Jason's under the table, her grip tight. "What are they saying?" she asked, her voice barely a murmur.
They all knew about it. It was hard not too. It was all over the news these days.
The "GB" virus, as everyone called it, had become a dark joke. A horror story whispered at sleepovers, a plot twist in a poorly written sci-fi show. But it was real, and it was closer than any of them had ever imagined.
The symptoms were like a cruel mimicry of the flu, lulling people into a false sense of security before the real nightmare began. It started with a tickle in the throat, a sniffle, a sneeze, and then the fever would hit like a ton of bricks. The body aches weren't far behind, turning the strongest into trembling masses of pain. The final phase was the scariest. The victim would fall into a deep sleep, their body a ticking time bomb ready to rewire its very essence.
When the virus was first identified, the CDC had given it a long, scientific name filled with syllables that nobody could pronounce, let alone remember. So, "GB" stuck. Short for "gender biomorphism," it became a twisted punchline, a shorthand for the inexplicable horror that was unfolding across the nation.
The worst part, it only seemed to target teenagers. Mostly ones around the ages of thirteen to eighteen. No one was truly sure why. There was some speculation about raging hormones but there was nothing concrete.
Jason looked around the cafeteria, at the sea of faces that were normally filled with chatter and laughter, now stilled into a cautious silence. The whispers of the virus had become a shout, a constant background noise that was impossible to ignore. Kids were eyeing each other suspiciously, wondering who would be next.
"Looks like the secret is out" he said, noticing the whispers and scared looks.
The loudspeaker crackled to life, the principal's voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Attention students and faculty," she began, her words measured and solemn, "due to a potential health concern, we are dismissing school early today. Please collect your belongings and proceed to the buses in an orderly fashion."
The room erupted into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone jumped to their feet, the weight of the announcement crashing down on them like a collapsing house of cards. The cafeteria was a flurry of activity, trays clattering as they were abandoned and books flying into backpacks.
Jason and his friends exchanged nervous glances, the color draining from their faces. They had heard of schools being closed for lesser reasons, but an early dismissal with such a serious undertone was unprecedented. They gathered their things and made their way through the chaos, navigating the sea of bodies that were now moving with a newfound urgency.
As they approached the buses, Jason couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was like watching a scene from a movie, one that ended in tragedy. The buses were lined up outside, their engines rumbling impatiently, ready to whisk them away to the safety of their homes. Or so they hoped.
The air was thick with uncertainty and fear, a stark contrast to the carefree banter that usually filled their walks home. They huddled together, the cold wind cutting through their thin jackets, and made a plan to meet up that evening for their weekly gaming session. It was a small slice of normalcy in a world that was rapidly spinning out of control.
Jason's house was a beacon of warmth in the gathering dusk, the yellow light from the windows spilling out into the street. He, Dave, and Sam lived on the same quiet cul-de-sac, their houses a comforting reminder of the childhood days when the only thing they had to fear was a scraped knee or a missed curfew. They parted ways with Kieran and Elena at the bus stop, their faces a mix of worry and bravado as they climbed aboard their respective buses. The engines roared to life, and the vehicles pulled away, leaving the three friends standing in the cold, the promise of their online escape just a few hours away.
The walk home was eerie, the usual sounds of laughter and the distant bark of a dog replaced by the occasional cough or sniffle that made their hearts skip a beat. They talked in hushed tones about the virus, the 'GB' that had turned their world upside down. The news reports had become more frequent, the faces of doctors and scientists grim as they discussed potential treatments and the alarming rate of infection. It was as if the very air they breathed had become tainted, carrying with it the whisper of fear and the specter of change.
Jason's house was a sanctuary, the silence a stark contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. He dropped his backpack in the hallway and made a beeline for the living room, his mother's gentle reprimand about not taking his shoes off echoing in his head. But she wasn't there to scold him, nor was his little brother, whose toys littered the floor, untouched.
He pulled out his phone, the battery icon glaring at him with its crimson half-life. He shot off a quick text to his mom, asking if they knew anything about the outbreak. His thumb hovered over the send button, the gravity of the situation weighing on him. The phone buzzed back immediately. "Stay safe. We're coming home early. Watch the news."
Jason dropped his phone on the kitchen counter, the cold marble a stark contrast to the warmth of his palm. The house felt eerie, the emptiness echoing his own fear. He wandered into the living room and flicked on the TV, the news channel already on from his mother's morning routine. The reporter's face was a mask of concern, the ticker at the bottom of the screen scrolling through a list of symptoms and warnings.
The TV's blue light flickered in the silence, casting shadows that danced on the walls. He sank into the couch, his eyes glued to the screen as the images of chaos in Portsville played out before him. People in hazmat suits, streets deserted, the occasional flash of an ambulance's siren piercing the silence. It was a scene from a dystopian movie, not the town they had all visited just last weekend.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, a feeble protest against the gravity of the situation. He pulled it out, his heart racing. The text from his mother was short and to the point: "We're on our way. Stay inside." The battery icon on his phone was a flickering warning, a bar of red that seemed to be slipping away with each passing second. He plugged it into the charger, the lifeline of power a comforting presence in the face of the looming unknown.
In the kitchen, Jason grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry and ripped it open, the crunch echoing through the quiet house. He poured the salty contents into a bowl, the sound of each chip hitting the ceramic a tiny rebellion against the silence. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts, and sat at the counter, his eyes glancing at the clock. 10 minutes ticked by, each second feeling like an eternity.
The sound of the garage door opening made him jump. His heart pounded in his chest as he heard the car pull in. The house was alive again, filled with the muffled sounds of his parents' footsteps and his brother's excited chatter. The door swung open, and in burst a whirlwind of coats and backpacks. His mother, her eyes wide with concern, rushed over to him, her arms open wide. "Jason," she said, her voice a mix of relief and worry, "are you okay?"
Jason couldn't help but roll his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips despite the fear that clung to him like a second skin. "I'm fine, Mom," he said, his voice a little too casual. He knew she was just trying to keep the panic at bay, the same way she had when he'd fallen out of a tree and broke his arm as a little kid.
His father's footsteps were heavier, his face lined with a worry that went deeper than just the latest school closing. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "You heard anything else?" he asked, his voice low.
Jason shrugged. "Just that there's a case in Portsville," he replied, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.
His little brother, Andy, barreled into the room, his eyes wide and curious. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice a high-pitched squeak.
Jason forced a smile. "It's just a little virus, buddy. Nothing to worry about."
But his mother's eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of the lie that hung heavy in the air. She had always had a knack for seeing through his bravado. "I don't like this, James," she whispered to his father, her eyes never leaving Jason. "It's not just a little thing anymore."
It was easy to see how scared his mother was. She was right though, it wasn't a little thing anymore. He was terrified, even if he wouldn't admit it.
The news played in the background, a grim reminder of the world outside. The reporters talked in hushed, urgent tones, the kind that only came with bad news. His dad, James, took charge, turning up the volume so they could all hear the latest update. The CDC had set up a temporary hospital in Portsville. They were calling it a precautionary measure, but Jason could see the fear in his father's eyes. He knew it was more than that.
After what felt like hours, his mother finally released her grip and let him escape to his room. The door closed behind him with a soft click, the sound muffling the tension outside. He collapsed onto his bed, the springs groaning in protest. His hand hovered over the glowing screen of his laptop, the promise of escape just a few clicks away. But he couldn't help the dread that settled in his stomach like a lead weight.
With trembling fingers, Jason logged into the game, the familiar login screen a beacon of comfort. The digital world was a place where he could control the chaos, a stark contrast to the real one that seemed to be spiraling out of control. His friends' usernames popped up one by one, each joining the chat with a mix of relief and fear.
"Sorry about that guys" he said into his headset after finally getting things adjusted. "Mom was..."
"Yours too?" added Dave with a sigh. There was something in that sigh that Jason felt as well.
The others offered sentiments. This was all pretty scary after all.
Jason did his best to try and focus on the game but his heart wasn't in it tonight. He was distracted and sloppy. No one complained though. The others weren't playing their best either. Usually if someone tanked it, there was good natured ribbing but not tonight. After a few hours, they called it.
"I think we all need some sleep," Kieran said, his voice tired but firm.
Jason agreed, his eyes bloodshot from staring at the screen for hours. They all signed off, the digital world of the game fading away, leaving only the cold reality of the quiet house.
He lay in bed, the blankets tangled around him like a cocoon of unease. The glow from his phone cast a soft light on the ceiling, the screen a window to the chaos outside. The news was a never-ending stream of updates and warnings, each one more ominous than the last. Portsville was now on full quarantine as much cases were reported. The National Guard had even been called in. Things were getting scary out there and they were far closer than he wanted to admit.
The clock ticked away the hours, each minute stretching into eternity. His thoughts raced, conjuring images of friends transformed by the virus, of a town forever changed. What would happen if one of them got infected? Would they still be the same? Would they still be...them? What if he got infected? Would he still be himself afterward?
Saturday morning finally came. When he woke up, he couldn't even remember falling asleep. His body felt like it had been run over by a truck, and his mind was a fog of fear and confusion. The house was still, the silence a stark reminder of the chaos just beyond their walls. He went through his morning on auto-pilot, stopping briefly to stare at himself in the mirror. The same tired eyes looked back at him, the same mess of blond hair that had always greeted him in the morning. He was terrified of what might happen if he got sick and that face changed.
He took a shower, the hot water a comforting embrace that washed away the sweat and the nightmares of the previous night. The steam billowed around him, the fog on the mirror a mirror to the fog in his mind. As he toweled off, he heard his parents talking in hushed tones downstairs. They were probably discussing the latest news, the whispers of fear seeping through the floorboards like a toxic mist.
Breakfast was a quiet affair.
Jason's mother had made pancakes, their sweetness a sad attempt to bring comfort to the tense atmosphere. They all sat around the kitchen table, the clink of forks against plates and the occasional cough from his dad the only sounds breaking the silence. The TV played in the background, the news a constant hum of dread.
"Jason you're barely eating" his mother finally said, noticing how he'd only picked at his food.
"I'm not really hungry" he finally admitted.
His mother looked like she was going to say something but changed her mind. She nodded and left it at that.
After breakfast, he decided to do something to help things feel normal---mowing the back grass. It was one of his usual Saturday morning chores after all.
As he pushed the mower out the back door, the sun hit him like a slap in the face, the heat a stark contrast to the cold fear that had taken up residence in his chest. The smell of freshly cut grass filled the air, and the buzz of lawnmowers and the distant chirp of birds tried to reassure him that everything was okay.
He'd barely started his first row when Caitlyn's voice called out to him from the fence. She and her friends were laying out by her pool, their bodies a tapestry of bikinis and sunscreen. "Jason!" she yelled, her voice carrying over the low murmur of their conversation.
Caitlyn was one of those girls---blonde, gorgeous and definitely not in his social circle. They'd been neighbors for years though and while not exactly friends, they were friendly when they saw each other. Caitlyn was the bouncy, cheerful and friendly type, a cheerleader and on Student Council.
Jason waved back, his grip tightening on the mower's handle. Caitlyn and her friends looked so carefree, basking in the sun like it was any other weekend. He wished he could join them, shed his worries like a snake's skin and just feel normal again. He admired and envied all of them a tiny bit.
"You're not scared?" he asked, walking over to the fence to where she was now standing.
Caitlyn shrugged. "Daddy figures if I stay away, the virus will too. He's decided that I'm not going to school until this whole thing blows over" She waved her hand dismissively at her friends. "The girls rents did the same. So its a bit like an impromptu vacation for us"
"Must be nice" he said envious.
"You should totes join us" shouted Melissa, an even more bustier blonde than Caitlyn.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. "Ignore her." She then leaned in closer. "I'm not going to lie though. This is all pretty fucking scary. I have a cousin in Portsville, they're all in total lockdown. She's freaking out"
Jason nodded solemnly. "Yeah, we're all on edge."
With a sad smile, Caitlyn nodded in understanding before turning back to her friends. He watched her go, the sound of their laughter fading as he returned to his mower. Her words had hit him hard. It was one thing to hear about the virus on the news, but knowing someone directly affected made it all too real.
He took a deep breath and started up the mower again, the roar of the engine a welcome distraction from his spiraling thoughts. The smell of gas and freshly cut grass filled the air as he pushed the mower in a pattern across the lawn. Each row was a battle against the weeds of fear that threatened to choke him.
The weekend dragged on, a blur of muted TV screens and whispered conversations. The news grew worse by the hour, the smiling faces of the reporters now etched with lines of exhaustion and concern. By Sunday evening, the number of infected in Portsville had skyrocketed, the virus spreading like a wildfire through dry grass. It was all anyone talked about, the town's name a grim incantation that brought silence to every room.
Monday morning dawned with an eerie stillness, the birds seemingly muted by the fear that gripped the town. The school was like a ghostly echo of its former self, the hallways half-deserted, the classrooms a patchwork of empty desks. The teachers that showed up moved with a forced calm, their eyes darting to the doors, as if expecting the virus to stride in at any moment.
Jason's stomach churned as he took his seat in algebra class. Only half the class had made it, the others either sick or kept home by overprotective parents. The air was thick with the scent of hand sanitizer and the unspoken dread of what was happening just miles away. The teacher, Mr. Jenkins, cleared his throat and began the lecture, his voice strained and tight. But the numbers and equations danced in front of Jason's eyes, a jumble of nonsense he couldn't force himself to focus on.
At lunch, the cafeteria was a stark contrast to its usual boisterous self. The tables were scattered with students, their laughter and chatter replaced by a hushed murmur. The clanking of silverware and the squeak of sneakers against the linoleum floor echoed through the cavernous space. As Jason scanned the room for his friends, he saw the glances, the furtive whispers, the way people looked away when they caught his eye. It was like they were all hiding secrets, each one more terrifying than the last.
He spotted Dave and Sam sitting at their usual table in the corner, Kieran's head buried in a book as usual, and Elena fiddling with her phone. The sight of them was a comfort, a beacon of normalcy in a world that was anything but. As he approached, Kieran looked up, his eyes dark with the weight of the world.
"You guys okay?" Jason asked, his voice tight.
Elena looked up, her smile forced. "As good as can be expected," she said, her thumbs still flying over the screen of her phone.
Dave leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the distant doorway. "I think everyone's just waiting for the other shoe to drop," he murmured.
"My parents are freaking" admitted Sam. "They wanted to pull me out, send me to my relatives across the country. This is crazy"
When Kieran finally spoke, his voice was low. "Mine are pulling me out"
Jason's heart dropped. "What? No way."
Kieran sighed, setting his book aside. He ran his hands through his hair. "We argued a lot this weekend. They're not listening. They're acting like the virus is already here."
"That's nuts" grunted Jason, even even though he was scared too.
"Want to hear something nuts" said Dave "I caught my Mom shopping online last night"
"She does that a lot" said Sam, they all knew Dave's Mom was a bit of a shopaholic.
"She was looking at the teen girl fashion sites" said Dave, his voice grave.
Dave was an only child.
"Shit" said both Jason and Kieran together.
Jason was scared. Was this their future?
The next couple of days passed in a blur of quiet anticipation, the school a hollow shell of its former self. Each day brought fewer faces to the classrooms, each absent chair a silent sentinel of the growing fear outside. The air was thick with whispers and unspoken dread, the hallways a ghostly echo of the laughter that once filled them.
Wednesday rolled around, and sure enough, Kieran's seat was empty. His locker stood untouched, the combination lock a stark reminder of his absence. His parents had made good on their word, pulling him from school to keep him safe in the cocoon of their home. The thought of Kieran, holed up and isolated, sent a shiver down Jason's spine. Was it better to be safe, or to face the storm with friends by your side?
Lunch was quieter than ever, the emptiness of the cafeteria a stark contrast to the vibrant, bustling space it had been just a week ago. Sam's eyes were red-rimmed, her voice shaky as she spoke. "They're thinking about it too," she whispered. "My parents. They're worried about me getting infected."
Jason reached out and gave her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. "They're just looking out for you," he said, trying to keep his own fear at bay. But the words felt hollow, even to him. The thought of losing another friend to the fear was almost too much to bear.
By Friday though, the fear was justified. GB finally made its way to Elmwood. It started when one of the kids in Jason's class coughed, a wet, rattling sound that seemed to hang in the air longer than it should have. The room went still, all eyes on the boy, whose face was flushed and sweaty. The cough echoed through the classroom, a harbinger of the chaos to come.
Mr. Cooper paused mid-sentence, his gaze darting from student to student as if searching for the source of the sound. The boy, a quiet kid named Tim, looked around nervously, his hand over his mouth. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice muffled by his palm, tears streaming down his face.
With a swiftness that belied his age, Mr. Cooper was beside Tim, his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let's go to the nurse's office," he said calmly, his voice a balm to the rising panic in the room. Tim nodded, his eyes wide with terror as he gathered his things.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the dam broke. The class erupted into a cacophony of whispers and murmurs that grew louder by the second. Jason's heart was hammering in his chest, the fear on everyone's faces like a mirror reflecting his own. He turned to Dave, the gravity of the situation etched into every line of his friend's face. "This is it," Dave whispered, his voice barely audible over the din. "This is when it hits home."
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, but no one moved. They were frozen in their seats, the reality of the situation crashing down around them like a tidal wave. The virus was no longer just a distant threat, a topic for hushed whispers and frantic texts. It was here, in their school, among their friends.
The principal's voice crackled over the loudspeaker, the words echoing through the corridors like a death knell. "Attention all students and faculty. Due to unforeseen circumstances, school is canceled for the remainder of the day. Buses will be leaving shortly. If you are able to walk or get a ride, please do so. Stay safe and be vigilant."
The hallways erupted into a flurry of activity, backpacks slung over shoulders and voices rising in a symphony of fear and confusion. Jason and Dave exchanged a look, the gravity of the situation sinking in. They didn't say a word as they gathered their things, the weight of the moment too heavy for words. They stepped into the flow of students, the cacophony of panic a stark contrast to the silent dread that filled them.
They met Elena in the hall. She absently reached out and grabbed Jason's hand.
"You guys aren't walking?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Too far" said Dave, grimacing at the buses. "Its all good. I've got these"
Dave took some paper masks from his backpack, handing his friends one. He had a box and absently starting passing them out to people in the hall. No one refused.
"We should get going," Jason said, his voice muffled by the mask. The corridor was a river of students, all flowing toward the exits. They didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone, the urgency of the situation too great.
Near the buses, Elena hugged them both. "Be careful and stay safe".
Jason nodded, his mask bobbing slightly with the motion. "You too"
He fought back the urge to say more to her. He'd always had a bit of a thing for Elena but knew Dave did as well.
They pushed their way through the crowd, the masks a flimsy barrier against the fear that seemed to radiate from every person they passed. The buses were a sea of masked faces and nervous chatter, the diesel engines rumbling impatiently. They found two empty seats near the back, the plastic sticky from the last occupant's sweat.
"I can't believe this is happening," Jason murmured, his voice muffled by the mask.
"Yeah," Dave replied, his eyes never leaving the passing scenery outside the window. "It's like something out of a movie."
The bus ride home was a stark contrast to their usual rowdy journey. The seats were filled with the muted sounds of shuffling feet and the occasional cough, each one sending a ripple of fear through the passengers. The windows were foggy with condensation from the nervous breaths of the students, the air thick with the scent of disinfectant and fear. The driver's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
When Jason finally stumbled off the bus, his legs stiff from the tension, the sight of his house was like a balm to his soul. The familiarity of the red brick, the white trim, and the slightly overgrown bushes brought a sense of peace he hadn't felt in days. But that peace shattered when he saw his mother standing at the open door, her face a portrait of worry.
"Mom," he called out, his voice muffled by the mask. She rushed to him, her eyes scanning him over like a hawk searching for prey.
"You're okay?" she asked, her voice tight with fear.
He nodded, the lie feeling thick in his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."
His mother's eyes searched his, looking for any signs of illness, her own mask hiding her trembling lip. "I've got a surprise for you," she said, her voice forced cheerfulness a poor facade. She led him into the kitchen where a plate of warm cookies sat on the counter, the sweet scent of chocolate chips and vanilla wafting through the air.
"You made cookies?" Jason asked, his voice muffled by the mask.
His mother nodded, her eyes never leaving his face. "They're your favorite. I just wanted to... to do something normal."
He took off the mask. There was no one here to infect. Neither his parents nor Andy could catch it after all.
"Thanks mom" he said, taking a cookie and biting into it. It was perfect. Just like she'd always made.
The crunch was comforting, the sweetness a brief distraction from the bitter taste of fear.
His mother hovered for a while, the smell of her perfume mixing with the cookie scent in a way that made him feel slightly nauseous. She didn't say much, just hovered, her eyes darting to his, searching for any hint of illness.
"I'm fine mom, really," he said, trying to give her a reassuring smile.
Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of a lie. "Okay," she said finally. "But if you start feeling sick, you tell me. We'll get you to the hospital."
He nodded, knowing it was what she needed to hear. "I promise."
Once upstairs in the sanctuary of his room, he threw his backpack onto the bed and flopped into his chair. The comfort of the familiar washed over him, the scent of his laundry and the faint smell of old pizza from a weekend of gaming a stark contrast to the sterile, fearful air downstairs. He quickly booted up his computer and dialed into a group call with his friends.
Their faces, a mix of masked and unmasked, popped up on the screen. The call was a tapestry of background noises, a symphony of worry and uncertainty. They talked in hushed tones, sharing the latest rumors and news, trying to piece together the puzzle of what was happening in their town.
"So rumor has it that Tim caught it from Molly" said Dave. "Horrible way to find out his girlfriend of two years was cheating on him this whole time with a guy from Portsville"
"Ouch" said Kieran.
Jason felt bad for Tim but momentarily caught eyes with Elena. The look was a silent exchange between the two of them.
"Did anyone else hear anything about the quarantine?" asked Sam, her voice shaking.
Jason shook his head. He, Dave and Elena quickly filled her and Kieran in on what happened today in school. They knew about Tim of course, that was all over social media now. They didn't know the full details though.
"You two were in class with him?" asked Sam, referring to both Jason and Dave. They both nodded. "You're ok, right?"
Dave shrugged. "As of right now but look on the bright side" He reached off camera and a moment later held a spaghetti strap top in front of his camera. "Mom's been busy"
They all groaned. Leave it to Dave to bring some light to this sordid situation.
The chat went on, a mix of muted laughs and genuine concern. The digital space was their sanctuary now, a place where they could be themselves without the fear of infection hanging over their heads.
"So what's the plan?" Kieran's voice was a welcome distraction.
"Plan?" Jason echoed. He hadn't even thought that far ahead. "I'm not sure there is one"
Its not like the virus killed anyone. It just turned you into another gender. While it was scary and the media was making it seem a lot worse than it was, it wasn't the end of the world. They were in New York and the tolerance here was pretty good. Most kids their age didn't care what gender someone presented as. It was still pretty scary though. Jason was happy being a guy and the thought of becoming a girl unnerved him a bit.
There was a knock on his door a couple hours after their video chat started. Jason's Dad stuck his head in:
"School's closed until further notice. They're being cautious but the government is asking the parents to make sure their children remain indoors until further notice as well"
There is was. They were quarantined.
"Is it bad?" Jason asked his Dad, hoping for a straight answer.
James Burke thought about lying to his son but he'd never been in a habit of doing so. "There have been at least three more reported cases. All from the classroom that Tim was in"
The color all but drained from Jason's face. "Dad...I..."
His father smiled but there was a bit of concern there. "I know son. We'll take it one day at a time. Whatever the outcome turns out being"
Jason nodded, trying to keep his fear in check. He took a deep breath, the smell of the cookies from downstairs still lingering faintly in the air. "Okay, Dad."
The next few days settled into a new kind of normal. Without school, the state had arranged some online classes for them, a feeble attempt to keep the school year afloat amidst the chaos. But the heart wasn't in it for any of them. The lessons felt like going through the motions, a mundane routine in the face of their worlds falling apart.
Instead, Jason and his friends found refuge in the digital world of video games. The familiar landscapes and battles were a comforting escape from the horrors playing out in their own lives. They played into the early hours of the morning, their eyes glazed over from the flicker of screens and the constant button mashing. It was a silent agreement among them, to keep their minds off the virus that lurked just outside their doors.
But things did get real when the CDC announced that the virus had a clear incubation period, all dependent on how close you were to the first victim.
Jason realized he sat two rows ahead of Tim in class. The direct people around him were already sick and the people in the row ahead of him...
He cursed and called Dave the morning of the CDC announcement.
Dave answered his phone after a few rings and when he did, he coughed.
"Shit dude" said Jason, going numb.
"It started this morning" Dave sighed then coughed again. "We called that number on TV, they're sending someone to test me. Its pretty clear though. I was in class with him..."
Jason said what was left unsaid. "No, we were in class with him"
They talked for a few more minutes before Jason hung up and called Elena. "Hey" he said after she answered. "Dave got it"
Elena cursed. "I saw the news. He was close to Tim?"
"In the row of seats in front of him" said Jason with a sigh.
"And you?" she asked.
"The row in front of Dave" he said quietly.
He needed to let her know because he held her hand after meeting her in the hall that day. It stood to reason that she could have possibly gotten infected as well. Then again, more than likely most of the student body in the hallway were infected too. Hell probably the kids on the bus as well. He grunted. None of this was going to end well.
"I'll call Kieran and Sam, let them know" she said reassuring him then added. "This is...we...we can do this"
He thanked her and hung up, almost telling her he loved her but that would have been weird.
That evening, after a dinner where his mother tried to keep the conversation light, Jason retreated to his room to wait for the inevitable video call from Dave. It came later that night, the group all gathered in the call.
"So, the doc was pretty straight with me," Dave began, his voice a little raspy. "It's weird, man. They said everyone's experience is going to be different. Some people might not even know they have it until they just... change."
Jason's heart was racing. He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes locked on Dave's masked face. "What does that mean?"
Dave took a deep, shaky breath. "It means I could change anytime between now and the next few days. Or not at all."
"Wait, that's a thing?" asked Sam, surprised.
"Yeah," Dave's voice was gravelly. "They said it's all over the place. Some change overnight, some take days, weeks even. It's like playing Russian roulette with your chromosomes."
"And some are immune?" asked Kieran.
"Less than one percent" said Dave "and that's not me". He raised his shirt as he said it, showing his nipples were already swollen.
"Shit" said Kieran, his face going a bit flush.
Jason was thinking the same thing but didn't say it.
"Its genetics too" said Dave, lowering his shirt with a shrug. "Things like body type and junk"
The call went quiet for a moment, the gravity of the situation settling in.
"I'm sorry, guys," Dave finally said, his voice thick. "I don't know what to do. I don't know who I'll be tomorrow."
They all reassured him that nothing was going to change. They were all still going to be his friend no matter what.
But Jason couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach. The house, which had once felt like a fortress of safety, now felt like a prison, each room a silent reminder of the world outside that was changing in ways none of them could ever have imagined.
He tried to distract himself with chores, his mother's anxious eyes following him as he moved from task to task, the clinking of glassware and the hum of the vacuum cleaner a poor substitute for the laughter that had once filled their home. Even the sunlight filtering through the windows seemed dimmer, tainted by the shadow of the virus that had invaded their lives.
The silence grew heavier with each passing hour, the muted hum of the TV in the background a sad reminder of the outside world that was now a mere spectacle, a horror show that played out in the confines of their screens. He found himself staring at the walls, the posters of his favorite bands now fading into the background as his thoughts swirled with images of his friends, of the life they used to have.
He'd read every book on his shelf, even the ones that had gathered dust for years. The video games that once held the promise of escape had lost their allure, the repetitive beeps and boops a stark reminder of the monotony that had become his existence. The house, once a bastion of comfort, now felt like a cage, each room a silent witness to his growing restlessness.
On the second day of Dave's transformation, the change was stark. The shaggy hair that once covered his head and framed his face had begun to fill out and grow. His features had softened, his nose a little less pronounced, his cheekbones a little more defined. He was still Dave, but the Dave Jason knew was slipping away, a chameleon shedding its skin to reveal something entirely new.
Dave's voice was the next to change, dropping a few octaves to a softer, more melodic pitch. It was a jolting transformation, like hearing a favorite singer's voice crack for the first time. Yet, amidst the fear, there was a strange sense of wonder in Jason's heart. This was something none of them had ever seen before, a transformation that defied everything they'd been taught about biology and identity.
The fourth day brought a new set of changes. Dave's shoulders began to narrow, his body slowly morphing into a more feminine form. The swelling of his breasts grew more pronounced, the fabric of his shirt straining to contain them. His skin took on a soft, almost ethereal glow, and his eyes, once the mischievous brown of a teenage boy, had a new sparkle to them, a mix of fear and curiosity.
During their video call, Dave spoke in a softer, more tentative tone. "Guys, I've started getting these... these cramps," he said, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "And... and my voice is different."
The camera panned down, and Jason and the others watched as Dave pulled his shirt up, revealing the unmistakable swell of breasts. They stared in shock, their jaws slack.
"It's okay," Dave said, trying to laugh, but it came out more like a squeak. "It's all part of the... the transformation."
On the fifth day, Dave was all girl. Her hair had grown out into a cascade of soft waves, framing her delicately sculpted features. The swagger of his walk was gone, replaced by a tentative grace that was unmistakably female. Her voice, now a melodious alto, carried an air of vulnerability that made her seem more approachable, and when she giggled, it was like the tinkling of a bell, light and infectious.
The video call that evening was filled with a mix of shock and awe. They had all seen the changes coming, but the reality of it was something else entirely. The room was silent as Dave, now a she, took a deep breath, her chest rising with the newfound weight of her breasts. She looked into the camera, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's weird," she said, her voice a soft rasp. "I'm still me, but... but I'm not."
"Are you still going by Dave?" asked a very curious Sam.
She shook her head. "Mom's been calling me Daisy. Said it was the name she would have given a daughter. I think I like it" She giggled again.
Jason was floored. This was his best friend.
He stared at the screen, trying to reconcile the Daisy before him with the Dave he had known for so long. The jovial, rough-around-the-edges exterior was gone, replaced by a softness that seemed to radiate from her every pore. Her hair, once a wild mop of unruly curls, had grown long and silky, cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her eyes, once a mischievous brown, now sparkled with a gentle curiosity, the kind that made you want to tell her secrets and whisper sweet nothings.
The silence in the room was a living, breathing entity, a testament to the gravity of the transformation. Jason felt a pang of loss, a sharp stab of pain that took his breath away. He missed the boy that Dave used to be, the one who'd throw paper planes in class and laugh so hard that milk would come out of his nose. He missed the shared jokes, the inside glances, the ease of their friendship. It was as if a part of his childhood was being erased, rewritten by an invisible hand, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Daisy, as she was now, watched him with a tentative expression, her new eyes searching his for understanding. The bond between them was still there, a silver thread that hadn't been severed, but it was stretched taut, pulled in a direction none of them had ever anticipated. The room was a cocoon of memories, each one fluttering away on wings of doubt and fear.
"Jay, you good?" she asked.
He nodded but he wasn't. "Yeah just a lot to think about"
The next couple of days were a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings for Jason. He couldn't help but see Dave in every corner of his mind. The way his hair had grown out, the way his body had changed, it was like watching a caterpillar become a butterfly except the transformation was happening right in front of his eyes and it was eerily unsettling. The games they played together, the laughs they shared, it all felt so distant now. It was as if he was mourning a friend who was still very much alive but fundamentally changed.
Jason's mother had tried to keep things as normal as possible, cooking his favorite meals and playing board games with him after dinner. But the tension was palpable. The smell of her perfume was a constant reminder of the fear that lingered just beneath the surface, the way she hovered, her eyes never leaving him for too long, searching for any signs of the virus. But it was Daisy's new name that echoed in his mind, a reminder that nothing would ever be the same again.
Then, one evening, as they were playing Monopoly, Jason felt it. A tickle in the back of his throat that grew into a cough. It was dry at first, but then it deepened, a rumble in his chest that sent his heart racing. His mother's eyes went wide with fear, and she jumped up, knocking over the game board. "Jason!" she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
He coughed again, the sound echoing through the quiet house. His eyes met hers, and in that moment, everything changed. The fear that had been a shadow in the corner of his mind was now a monster looming over the table, casting its dark pallor over the pieces of their lives.
"It's okay," she said, her voice trembling as she reached out to him. "We'll get through this together."
But it wasn't okay. It was anything but okay. The cough grew stronger, more persistent, as if it had a life of its own, a drumbeat that wouldn't quit. His mother's hand was cool on his forehead, her eyes searching his for reassurance that she couldn't give. He knew what the cough meant, the same way he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. But this wasn't a promise of a new day. It was a harbinger of change, a storm cloud on the horizon of his life.
Dave's transformation had been a wake-up call, a stark reminder that the "GB" virus didn't discriminate. Now, as he coughed into the night, Jason felt the first tremors of that storm. His body was betraying him, turning him into something he'd never asked for. The thought of becoming a girl was as alien as the changes he'd seen in Daisy. The boyish swagger of his best friend was now a thing of the past, replaced by a softness that seemed to have been there all along, just waiting to be revealed.
Jason's mother took his hand, her eyes a pool of unshed tears. She knew the drill; they'd heard it enough times on the news. The cough was the start of it all. The virus didn't care about the life they had planned, the dreams they had shared. It was going to redefine him in a way that no one could have ever predicted.
He was just glad that Andy wasn't here to see it. His little brother, the one who looked up to him, who copied his every move and laughed at his every joke. The thought of watching him go through this, of explaining the unexplainable, was too much to bear. It was a burden he was almost grateful to bear alone.
The cough grew more insistent, a constant reminder of the enemy within. Jason retreated to his room, leaving his mother's worried gaze behind. He closed the door, the click echoing through the hallway like the tick of a time bomb. Alone with his thoughts, he tried to imagine what it would be like, to wake up in a body that wasn't his own. Would he still be Jason? Or would he become someone else entirely?
He called his friends, the digital faces of Daisy, Kieran, and Sam popping up on the screen. The moment he spoke, the mood shifted. They knew what the cough meant. Daisy was the first to speak, her new voice a gentle balm to his fear. "It's okay, Jason. We're all here for you."
Her kindness washed over him like a warm blanket, a stark contrast to the cold sweat on his forehead. Kieran and Sam chimed in, their voices a chorus of reassurance. Yet, amidst the comfort, Elena's silence was deafening. He could almost feel her eyes boring into him through the screen, her thoughts racing a million miles a minute.
"It's okay, man," Kieran said, trying to fill the void. "We're all in this together."
Sam nodded, her eyes wide with concern. "Yeah, we've got you, no matter what."
Elena left the video call without saying a thing.
Jason knew she was worried. He could see it in the way her eyes had searched his during the call, looking for something to hold onto, some shred of the boy she'd known since kindergarten. But she had been quiet, too quiet, and it was killing him. He picked up his phone, his thumbs moving over the screen with a tremor that had nothing to do with the virus.
He called her but she didn't answer. He tried a couple more times but figured she was pretty scared right now.
He decided to focus on something else. The fear was palpable but there was also a weird curiosity, a morbid fascination with the unknown. He opened a new browser tab and Googled "symptoms of the GB virus." The pages were a blur of medical jargon and personal accounts, but one thing stood out: the virus affected everyone differently. Some changed overnight, others took weeks. Some experienced extreme pain, while others felt nothing but a mild discomfort. He was about to close the tab when he felt it: a slight tingle in his chest, a hint of swelling in his nipples.
With trembling hands, he left the video call and made his way to the bathroom. The cold tile felt comforting against his bare feet as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes searched for any signs of the transformation, his breathing shallow. He was scared, sure, but there was a strange thrill to it too, a feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump into the abyss below. His eyes fell to his chest, and his heart skipped a beat. There they were, the unmistakable signs of breasts forming. It was like watching a magic trick unfold before his very eyes, except the magician was a microscopic virus that had turned his life upside down.
Looks like he might be one of the fast ones. Maybe even faster than Daisy?
There was a knock on the bathroom door and his mother poked her head in. "They're sending someone as soon as they're available. I've made more..." Her voice caught in her throat when she saw his breast buds. "Oh my God..."
He turned and sighed. "Daisy was fast but I think I'm gonna be one of those ones".
His mother came into the room, he lowered his shirt and she hugged him, reassuring him everything was going to be all right.
A few hours later, the doorbell rang, and Jason's mother ushered in Dr. Amelia Charles from the CDC. She had a no-nonsense air about her, her lab coat crisp and her eyes sharp as she scanned the room. Jason felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation as she approached him, her expression professional but not unkind. She set down her medical bag and began her examination, her gloved hands cool and efficient as she checked his temperature and listened to his heartbeat.
"You're already showing signs" she said, after checking his developing breast buds. "I think you might be one of the quick ones. Lucky you"
"Lucky me?" he asked, not feeling so lucky.
"Trust me, it could be worse. Some people don't take to it as fast as this" she sighed and continued her examination.
When she was done, she gave his shoulder a squeeze with a gentle smile.
"Well, Jason," Dr. Charles began, her voice calm and measured. "You're healthy all things considered. The good news is that the government has recognized the widespread impact of this and is setting up a support system. You'll receive a stipend to help with any expenses that arise during and after the transformation."
Jason nodded, trying to process the information. It was something, at least. A small lifeline in the storm that was his life now.
"What happens next?" he croaked, his voice still raw from the coughing fit.
"Well, the virus has a mind of its own," she said, her tone gentle. "The physical changes can happen rapidly, but everyone's experience is unique."
"It my friend, Da...isy about five days" he said with a nod.
Dr. Charles smiled. "She was a quick one too but I feel not as quick as you might be"
After Dr. Charles left, Jason felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. His mother hovered outside his room, her footsteps a gentle reminder that he wasn't alone, but he craved solitude. The walls of his room had never felt so suffocating, the posters of rock bands and comic book heroes that once brought him comfort now seemed like a mockery of the strength he was supposed to have. He needed to process this, to understand what was happening to him, but the only voice he heard was the echo of his own thoughts.
Ignoring the persistent buzz of his phone, he curled up on his bed, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against his newly sensitive nipples. Each brush sent a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of his changing reality. His eyes fell on the photo of him and his friends at the beach, taken just a few months ago. They were all laughing, oblivious to the chaos that was to come. He reached out to touch the image of Dave, or rather, Daisy now, but that carefree smile of his back then a stark contrast to the fear in Jason's heart now.
Daisy, Sam and Kieran all called but he ignored them. He ignored the several attempts for video calls too. He wasn't in the mood to talk right now.
The morning light streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room, but it couldn't penetrate the chill that had settled into Jason's bones. He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, his legs feeling like they didn't quite belong to him. The mirror reflected a face that was still his own, but the eyes that stared back were filled with a newfound fear. His chest felt heavier, his skin tingling with the promise of something unseen.
As the hot water cascaded over him in the shower, he felt the contours of his body shift. His breasts had grown overnight, the tender mounds pressing against his chest with every breath he took. His hands trembled as he touched them, the sensation alien and unsettling. The soap slid over his skin, highlighting the soft curves that had once been flat, the water beading on his newfound femininity. The steam filled the room, a veil that seemed to obscure the person he'd been just days ago.
When he stepped out of the shower, the mirror revealed a reflection that was both haunting and fascinating. His hips had widened, his shoulders narrowed. His face was a canvas of softness, the sharp angles of adolescence giving way to the gentle curves of a young woman's visage. His hair had grown longer, the wet strands clinging to his neck and back like a second skin. He looked at himself, half in awe and half in horror, trying to reconcile the person staring back with the boy who had gone to bed the night before.
He reached for the towel, his eyes lingering on his new body. The towel was rough against his sensitive skin, sending a shiver down his spine as he dried off. The fabric brushed against his now prominent nipples, and he winced at the sensation. The mirror was a silent judge, reflecting his every move as he wrapped the towel around his waist, the material clinging to the curves that had emerged overnight.
The quiet of the house was a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind. He padded back to his room, the soft thud of his feet on the carpet echoing through the hallway. His phone buzzed again, a relentless reminder of the world outside his door. He picked it up, his heart racing as he saw Elena's name light up the screen.
He took a deep breath and answered, his voice a hoarse whisper that was no longer his own. "Hey," he croaked, the sound of his new vocal cords sending a shiver down his spine.
There was a beat of silence on the other end before Elena spoke, her voice tentative. "Jason? Is that you?"
He nodded, though she couldn't see it. "Yeah, it's me," he replied, his voice a hoarse whisper that sounded like someone else's. "I'm one of the fast ones apparently"
There was a pause on the other end, filled with the kind of silence that was heavier than any words could ever be. "I'm so sorry, Jason," she said finally, her voice thick with emotion. "I just... I needed some time to process everything. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"Its all good" he said, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. "I'm not sure how to process it either. This body, the hair..."
"Hair?" she asked, intrigued.
He blushed. "Let me put on some clothes, I just got out of the shower. I'll send you a pic"
After a few minutes of rummaging through his closet, he settled on a loose shirt that thankfully covered his new assets and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He took a deep breath and took a selfie in the mirror, his heart racing with every click of the camera. He studied the image, the way his eyes looked softer, his cheekbones more pronounced. His hair had grown down to his shoulders and had a slight wave to it, framing his face in a way that made him look almost...pretty. He hit send, his thumb hovering over the button for a beat too long before he could bring himself to let it go.
"Holy shit Jay" said Elena a few seconds later.
"Yeah, I know it's wild" he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You look... wow," she replied, her voice a mix of amazement and something else he couldn't quite pinpoint. "Beautiful even"
"Thanks," he murmured, trying to sound casual despite the turmoil inside him. He didn't know if he was ready for anyone to see him like this, even if it was just a photo.
Elena's questions came in a flood, a mix of curiosity and concern. "How do you feel, like really feel?"
Jason took a deep breath, his chest tightening around the towel. "It's weird," he admitted, his voice still unfamiliar to his own ears. "My body's changing so fast, it's like I don't even recognize myself sometimes."
Elena was silent for a moment, her thoughts racing. "Does it hurt?" she finally asked.
"It's more...uncomfortable than painful," Jason replied, his eyes flicking down to his chest. "Everything's just so...sensitive."
Elena's voice softened. "I can't imagine what you're going through. It's just so much to take in."
Jason nodded, his heart racing as he tried to put his feelings into words. "It's like my body's playing tricks on me," he said. "One minute I'm me, and the next..." His voice trailed off, lost in the vast unknown of his new reality.
He coughed a few times, his body letting him know that he was technically still sick.
They finally ended their call and he was glad that Elena had reached out. He was also glad that she was the only one that had seen the new him and had called him "beautiful". That thought sent a flutter to him.
That night, Jason's fever spiked, his stomach churning with a nausea that was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. His mother hovered over him, her worry etched into every line on her face as she tried to coax him to drink water, but he could barely keep anything down. The pain was intense, a deep ache that seemed to resonate through his very soul, as if his body was fighting a war from the inside out.
As the night dragged on, Jason felt his body shift and contort, his bones reshaping themselves to fit a new mold. The agony was unbearable, each moment a fresh hell that seemed to stretch on forever. He was vaguely aware of his mother's voice, soothing and calming, but the pain was a siren's call, demanding all his attention. It was a battle between the person he had been and the one he was becoming, and he wasn't sure which side was winning.
When dawn broke, the fever had passed, leaving him drenched in sweat and trembling with exhaustion. He tried to sit up, but his new body protested, muscles unused to the weight of breasts and the softness of hips. His mother rushed to his side, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and something else—pride, perhaps? But Jason couldn't focus on her; he was too busy staring down at his chest. The transformation was complete.
"Come on, sweetie," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Jason's legs felt like jelly as she helped him to the bathroom. He leaned heavily on her, the weight of his new body foreign and cumbersome. The lights flickered on, and the mirror reflected a vision that couldn't possibly be real. A beautiful blonde girl stared back at him, her eyes wide with shock and a hint of wonder. He had always admired his mother's looks, her blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, and now, he saw those very features reflected in his own visage.
"You look just like me when I was your age," his mother said, her voice filled with awe. "Your grandmother's genes are strong in you."
Jason couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked down at his chest, the breasts that had appeared overnight, the way his hips had swelled and his waist had narrowed. It was as if he'd been Photoshopped into a different body. A beautiful body, sure, but not his. "I... I don't know what to say," he murmured, his voice still unsteady and unfamiliar.
His mother took his hand, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and something he couldn't quite place. "You're going to be okay," she said, her grip firm and reassuring. "More than okay. You're going to be amazing."
The words didn't quite land, not yet. He was still too lost in the shock of his new body, the reality of his transformation too fresh to fully comprehend. But as she helped him into the shower, her gentle touch washed away some of the fear, leaving behind a semblance of comfort. The warm water cascading down his body felt like a rebirth, a cleansing of the pain and the doubt that had consumed him.
When he stepped out, the towel around his waist, his mother handed him a shirt and sweatpants, both in his favorite color. The soft fabric of the shirt brushed against his sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the tightness of his old clothes. "No bra yet," she said, her voice a mix of apology and resignation. "We'll have to get you measured once the quarantine is lifted."
Jason looked down at his chest, the fullness of his breasts now a stark reality. He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded and slipped into the clothes. They were snug and fit well. His mother explained they were her workout clothes.
"You're growing fast," she said with a sad smile, her voice a mix of concern and wonder. "We're going to have to get creative with your wardrobe until we can get you to a store."
His mother excused herself then he sat at his computer and initiated a video call with his friends. He sat and waited nervously.
The screen flickered to life, and he was met with the stunned faces of Elena, Sam, and Kieran. Daisy's expression, however, was anything but shocked. She grinned ear to ear, her eyes sparkling with something that could only be described as excitement. "Well, don't you clean up nice," she said, her voice filled with mischief.
Kieran's cheeks turned a deep shade of red as he stumbled over his words. "J-Jason, I-I didn't... I mean, you look..." He couldn't finish the sentence, his eyes darting anywhere but at the new girl on the screen.
Sam leaned closer to the camera, her expression a mix of awe and confusion. "Wow," she murmured, her eyes wide. "I can't believe it."
Elena's voice was softer, a little shaky. "You're... you're beautiful, Jason."
He felt his cheeks warm at the compliment. "Thanks, Elena," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's just so weird."
"She's not just beautiful, she's fucking hot!" gushed Daisy with another one of her new trademark giggles.
That broke the tension and the friends had a good time, laughing. It didn't matter that the group dynamic had changed, they were all still friends.
The next day, Dr. Charles arrived as scheduled, but she wasn't alone. Following her into the house was a young woman, probably in her early twenties, dressed in a trendy outfit that somehow managed to look professional and stylish at the same time. She had a warm smile and a confidence that was infectious.
"This is Grace," Dr. Charles said by way of introduction. "She's here to help with your transition."
Grace stepped forward, extending a hand that Jason took hesitantly. "Hey, I know it's weird," she said with a warm smile. "But I promise, I'm here to make this as easy as possible for you."
Her touch was surprisingly comforting, and Jason found himself relaxing a little. "So, what do you do?" he asked, his curiosity piqued despite the situation.
"I'm a case manager for the CDC," Grace said, her voice a soothing melody that seemed to resonate with the quiet hum of the house. "My job is to help people like you navigate through the physical and emotional changes that come with the virus. We're setting up a network of resources and support groups to make sure no one has to go through this alone."
Jason's mother hovered in the background, her eyes filled with hope. "This is wonderful," she said, her voice wavering. "Thank you so much for coming."
Grace nodded and turned to Jason. "Why don't we start with the basics?" she suggested, her gaze kind and understanding. "Do you have any questions about your new body?"
Jason swallowed hard, his throat dry with nerves. "Yeah," he croaked. "How do I... I mean, what do I do with... these?" He gestured awkwardly at his chest.
Grace chuckled gently. "Well, first things first," she said, her voice soothing. "Let's get you measured up for some clothes. It's going to be a bit of a challenge since everything's closed right now, but we've got some government-provided supplies coming in."
Jason's mother looked relieved. "That's so kind of you," she said, her eyes misty with gratitude.
Grace waved off her thanks. "It's what we're here for," she said, her smile never wavering. "Now, let's get down to business. Do you have a tape measure?"
Jason nodded, his cheeks flaming as he dug through his mother's sewing kit. He handed it to her with trembling hands, trying to ignore the way his new breasts moved with every gesture. Grace took it, her own movements calm and confident as she approached him.
"It's okay, Jason," she said softly, noticing his discomfort. "I've seen it all before."
Grace gently measured his bust and waist with a professional touch, jotting down the numbers on a clipboard. She then turned her attention to his hips, her eyes scanning over his new curves with an expert eye. "We'll make you turn heads," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth.
As she worked, Jason felt a strange sense of relief. It was as if, with her calm demeanor and straightforward approach, she had the power to make the unthinkable seem almost... normal. He watched as she pulled out a small bag filled with what looked like a starter pack of women's undergarments. "These are for you," she said, handing them over. "A sports bra should help with the discomfort for now. And these," she added, pulling out a pair of panties, "will be more comfortable under those sweatpants you're wearing."
Jason blushed crimson but quickly took them from her.
Grace noticed his discomfort and gave him an understanding nod. "Why don't you go try these on?" she suggested. "I'll be here when you're ready to go over the rest."
Jason retreated to the privacy of his room, the soft fabric of the bra and panties feeling foreign against his skin. As he put them on, he couldn't help but marvel at how different they felt, the way they molded to his new form. It was a strange sensation, one that made him feel both vulnerable and powerful in ways he couldn't quite articulate.
When he emerged, Grace nodded in approval. "Much better," she said, her voice brimming with encouragement.
That was the beginning of everything for Jason's new life.
The next two weeks passed in a blur of lessons and adjustments. Grace's presence became a reassuring constant in Jason's life. She arrived each morning with a smile that seemed to chase away the shadows of doubt that lingered in the corners of his room. With her guidance, Jason learned to navigate the uncharted waters of his new body. Lessons on makeup, hair care, and even the intricacies of walking in a way that felt natural with his newfound curves filled his days. His mother watched, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and admiration as she saw her son become someone new.
One morning, as Grace was helping him choose an outfit from the limited selection of clothes that had arrived, she paused and looked him in the eyes. "What about your name, Jason?" she asked gently. "Do you have any thoughts on what you'd like to be called?"
He'd been mulling over the question in the back of his mind, but hearing it out loud made his heart race. The name "Jason" felt like a lifetime ago, a relic of a boyhood that was slipping through his fingers. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice cracking. "It's all so much."
His mother came forward. "If you'd been female from birth, we were going to name you Jessica"
Grace nodded approvingly. "That's a lovely name," she said. "How does it feel, Jessica?"
Jessica took a deep breath, the name rolling off her tongue like a whisper. "It feels...right," she murmured, a tentative smile playing on her lips. "It feels like me."
Her mother's eyes filled with tears, and she leaned in to give Jessica a gentle hug. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're handling this with such strength."
Jessica nodded, feeling the weight of her mother's embrace. The name "Jessica" had grown on her, a soft mantle that she was slowly beginning to accept as her own. She returned the embrace, feeling the warmth of her mother's love in a way she hadn't felt in weeks. It was a small victory in the face of so much change, but it was enough to keep her going.
After Dr. Charles' final visit, she was declared virus-free. The news was a beacon of light in the dark tunnel of her transformation. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, Jessica started a video chat, eager to share her new identity with her friends.
She was dressed in a modest blue top and some skinny jeans, her hair styled in ponytail to keep her hair from her face. She still wasn't ready to go all "girl" as Grace called it. She'd been meeting a shrink too, Dr. Harris. Dr. Harris told her it was ok to take things slow and one step at a time. So she was still in the tomboy phase of things and happy being there.
She took a breath as her friends joined. "I'm happy to report I'm virus free!"
Elena's face broke into a wide grin. "That's amazing, Jess!" she exclaimed, her voice a symphony of relief and joy. "We're all so happy for you!"
Daisy and Sam expressed their gratitude as well. Kieran just grunted and nodded, back to being his usual self.
"So, what now?" Sam asked, her eyes glued to the screen.
"Now" said Jessica with some determination. "We live our lives"
The following weekend, after a particularly draining session with Dr. Harris, Jessica decided she needed some fresh air. She'd been cooped up in the house for too long, and the walls were closing in on her. She grabbed her headphones and a baseball cap, tucking her hair up underneath it. She was feeling more comfortable with her new identity, but the town was still a minefield of uncertainty. She slipped on a pair of sneakers and headed out the door.
She wasn't ready to go into the city but figured the backyard was a good first place to start.
As she stepped outside, the sun kissed her skin, and she took a deep breath of the fresh air, feeling the gentle breeze ruffle her hair. She took a moment to appreciate the simple things she had missed during her quarantine. The sound of birds chirping, the rustle of leaves, and the smell of the neighbor's grill. She sat down on the porch swing and closed her eyes, letting the calming sounds of the suburban afternoon wash over her.
"Hey" said a voice from over the fence. "I'm Caitlyn..."
Jess had completely forgotten that Caitlyn had been home this whole time, thanks in no small part to her parents' smart thinking.
"Umm, I'm Jason" she said, getting up from her swing.
Caitlyn's jaw dropped.
"I know it's weird," Jessica said, feeling self-conscious under her neighbor's scrutiny. "I didn't get by unscathed"
"Jason" Caitlyn said, unsure. "You look amazing!"
She blushed. "Its Jessica now, well Jess for short I guess"
They talked from either side of the fence. Jess filled her in on everything that happened. She told her about Tim, about how school had been closed, about Dave becoming Daisy and then about her own change. She also mentioned how some people were exposed, like Elena but didn't get sick.
"So you're adjusting then?" asked Caitlyn, waving her hands at Jess's clothes.
She shrugged. "I'm getting there"
"Well if you ever need any fashion advice or even a friend, you know where to find me" she said sincerely.
A couple of months later, things had really changed. The virus moved on. The last reported case in the area was a month ago. Jessica settled into her new life, in part because of family and friends, including Caitlyn, who molded well with their group. School started up again too, somehow the new genders changed some dynamics.
Some popular kids were less so after switching to the other side, while some unpopular ones came out of their shells.
Jessica was one of them.
While she was just there as Jason, she blossomed as a girl. It was weird really. She messed well with Caitlyn's clique while at the same time staying true to her own friends as well.
Daisy blossomed too. She started dating her former crush Valerie, who went through her own change and was now Craig. The two of them made a perfect couple.
Sam and Kieran finally admitted their feelings for one another as well.
Jess took some time to sort out her own feelings and realized her attraction to girls had not changed. Even more surprising, it turns out Elena was very bisexual. The two of them have been dating for over a month and were going strong.
As for GB, it moved onto the next area. It was almost as if there was some intelligence driving it, pushing it from place to place.
The End
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Groaning, Kyle barely acknowledged the noise, trying hard to drown it out, pulling his pillow around his ears like a soft helmet. Sadly it was little to deafen the noise. School had only been out for a day and already his mother was on his case. It was the same thing like last summer. She hated that all he wanted to do was sit around and play video games all day. But it was summer, his vacation and now sixteen, he realized that he only had a few more years of this before adulthood snatched away this carefree life.
"Kyle!" His mother's voice was sharp, cutting through the door like a hot knife through butter. "I've had it with your laziness. This summer you're going to do something productive!"
Here it was again. He wondered if she was going to suggest he get a job like last year. He had tried to explain it to her then that 15 had been too young and no one would hire him. He didn't have that excuse this year though. Maybe he could fall back on his looks? Though 16 now, he till looked like he was 13. He had his mother's soft features and at only five foot three, he inherited her height as well. It didn't help that his hair had grown to below his chin now and covered his eyes.
"I know you're in there, Kyle. Don't think you can ignore me forever!" His mother's voice grew more insistent.
He grunted, finally relenting and rolled out of bed.
"What?" he called out, his voice groggy and unenthused.
"Get dressed and come downstairs," his mother ordered. "I've got a surprise for you."
A surprise from his mother was never a good thing.
He remembered the time she'd signed him up for soccer camp when he was eleven. The heat, the endless running, and the humiliation when he'd been the last picked for every team. Or when she'd decided to 'introduce him to culture' with a week of violin lessons. The sound of his screechy strings had driven the neighbors to despair. And let's not forget the summer she'd thought he'd enjoy gardening. The blisters and sunburn had lasted for what felt like an eternity.
These things were NEVER for him, they were to make her feel better.
With a sigh, Kyle stumbled to his dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and shorts, barely bothering to match. Downstairs, the smell of breakfast filled the air, something she'd cooked herself. It was always a trap. If she'd cooked, it was serious.
"Kyle, sit down," she said, pointing to a chair at the kitchen table. She placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of him, a forced smile on her face. "I've made a decision."
"What is it this time?" he asked, biting his toast. "A trip to climb Mount Everest? Kayaking in the Amazon?"
They were outlandish things but so were all the others. Ok so maybe the others weren't that extreme but to him, anything was crazy when his mother was involved.
"You're going to spend the summer with your Aunt Grace," she announced with the glee of someone who had just found a forgotten twenty in their pocket.
Kyle felt the cold in his veins. It was worse than anything he could imagine.
Aunt Grace was notorious in the family, a stern, no-nonsense woman who didn't just dislike men, she practically despised them. Her visits were filled with glares and snipes, and the rare compliment she ever gave him was always about his 'wasted' looks. As far as she was concerned, he should have been born a girl to make something of himself. His mother, while not quite as extreme, was certainly of the same ilk.
His mother had once told him that she was convinced that he was going to be a girl before he was born. She went so far as decorating the whole nursey in pink and frills. When he was born and was a boy, his mother had been disappointed. She did her best to raise a boy but his whole life, she told him things would have been easier if she just had a daughter.
Kyle often thought to himself: No wonder his father bailed before he was born.
"But why?" he protested weakly, staring at his plate of breakfast as if it held the secrets of the universe.
"Your Aunt Grace has agreed to take you under her wing," his mother said, her voice firm as she sat down across from him. "You need some discipline and direction, Kyle. I've seen the way you've been going and it's just not good enough."
So this was another one his mother's "attempts" to set him on the right path---like the soccer camp and those dump violin lessons.
"But, Mom..." Kyle began to protest but her gaze was like a steel wall.
"No buts, Kyle. You're going to Aunt Grace's and that's final," she said, her voice brooking no argument. "She's going to whip you into shape and turn you into a young adult that I can be proud of."
There was something unspoken there, something dangerous that he half noticed.
Three days later, with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Kyle boarded the bus. He'd never been on a bus by himself before, never even been to a town that wasn't within a twenty-mile radius of his home. The seats were stiff and the air was thick with the scent of diesel and someone's fast food breakfast. The driver took one look at him and grunted, probably thinking that he was running away from home or something dramatic.
He found a spot in the back, near the bathroom, and slumped down into the chair, feeling the vibrations of the engine as it roared to life. His mother had dropped him off with a peck on the cheek and a wink, as if she was sending him on some grand adventure. He knew it was more like sending him to boot camp for the summer.
The bus ride was long and boring. The scenery outside the window was a blur of greens and browns, trees and fields passing by in a never-ending parade. Kyle pulled out his phone, scrolling through his social media feeds, looking for any distraction from the dread that was growing in his stomach. He'd tried calling his friends, but they were all too busy enjoying their first days of freedom. A few had sent messages saying they'd catch up with him when he got back from his 'summer camp'. They had no idea what they were talking about.
He felt like he was being shipped off to a foreign country. Aunt Grace's town was the complete opposite of the bustling suburbia he'd known his whole life. It was quiet, almost eerily so, with the occasional farmhouse dotting the landscape. He'd only been there a few times as a child, and all he remembered was the smell of his aunt's potpourri and the feel of her starched apron against his cheek. He'd spent those visits hiding in his room, playing with his handheld games, hoping the hours would fly by until he could leave.
The bus pulled into the quaint town square. The buildings were old but everything was clean and well maintained. It was like stepping into a postcard from the 1950s, a time warp where everyone knew everyone and the biggest drama was who forgot to lock their car door. The sidewalks were pristine, and the flowers in the hanging baskets looked like they were painted on rather than real. It was so peaceful, it was almost eerie. He'd heard the term "too quiet" in horror movies, and this place had it in spades.
There was a pristine white sign that read, "Welcome to Harrow. Enjoy Your Stay"
Kyle stepped off the bus, the door hissing closed behind him. His mother's words echoed in his mind as the bus chugged away, leaving a trail of dust and diesel fumes. He looked around the town square, the sun beating down on him like an oppressive hand. A few townsfolk glanced his way, curiosity in their gazes. They were probably wondering who the new face was, the boy with the sad eyes and the duffel bag. He was the outsider, the one who didn't belong in their meticulously kept little world.
Across the square, he spotted a group of teens hanging out in front of the corner market. They were all dressed in what Kyle assumed was the local version of cool—tight jeans, plaid shirts, and boots. The kind of outfits that said, "I'm from the country and proud of it." They were laughing and joking around, seemingly without a care in the world. Kyle felt a pang of envy. He wished he could be one of them, just passing the time with ease until the next thrilling thing came along.
As he approached, their chatter died down. He felt their eyes on him, a collective curiosity that was palpable. One of them, a tall boy with pale blonde hair smiled. He was one of those guys, magazine handsome. Kyle was interested in girls but a guy like him even made his heart skip a beat. He was one of those rare handsome beings that could turn even the straightest guy gay in a matter of moments.
The boy's gaze was like a spotlight, following Kyle's every move. It was unsettling and thrilling at the same time. Kyle had never been the center of attention like this, especially not in a positive way. It was like he was some sort of alien that had just landed in their town square.
"Hi, I'm Chris," the blonde-haired boy called out, sauntering over with an easy grace that suggested he owned the place. He stuck out his hand, and Kyle took it, feeling the roughness of his palm. "You new around here?"
Kyle nodded, swiping a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm Kyle. My mom sent me to stay with my Aunt Grace for the summer."
Kyle noticed Chris's friends watching him too. Wow, they were all tall and kinda handsome too. Was there something in the water around here?
"Well, welcome to Harrow," Chris said with a genuine smile. "What brings you here?"
Kyle grunted. "My mother seems to think I need guidance"
The boys exchanged looks but said nothing else.
Kyle was about to say something else when a sleek black car pulled up and the door opened to reveal Aunt Grace stepping out.
She was indeed a tall, dark-haired beauty, with the kind of poise that made heads turn. Her skin was porcelain, with not a single wrinkle to give away her age. Her hair was long, cascading around her shoulder and down her back and she wore an elegant white blouse tucked into a gray pencil skirt that ended just above her knees. The heels she wore made her legs look endless. Despite her stern demeanor, there was an undeniable charm to her that Kyle had never noticed in the few times they'd met. It was as if she'd stepped out of a magazine, a stark contrast to the laid-back vibe of the town.
The boys lowered their gaze when she looked at them.
"Kyle," Aunt Grace called, her voice cutting through the silence. "Still a pretty little thing, I see"
He was embarrassed by her words but too afraid to say anything.
The boys looked at him with a mix of pity and curiosity. Kyle felt like a bug under a microscope.
"Well get in the car" she said, then climbed back into it.
Kyle gulped but did as he was told.
The ride to Aunt Grace's was tense. She didn't say much, her eyes focused on the road ahead. The car smelled faintly of leather and something floral, a scent that was both comforting and suffocating at the same time. It was like she'd brought a piece of the city with her into this rural haven.
When they pulled into the driveway, Kyle couldn't help but gawk at the house. It was a two-story Victorian monstrosity, painted a stark white with black shutters that looked like they'd been slapped on by a giant hand. The yard was meticulously kept, not a blade of grass out of place. It was a stark contrast to the unkempt lawns and peeling paint of the houses on his block back home.
The interior of the house was like nothing Kyle had ever seen before. It was sleek and modern, a stark contrast to the antique façade. The floors were a gleaming black marble, and the walls were painted a crisp white, adorned with framed photos of flowers that looked more like paintings than photographs. The furniture was minimalist, all sharp lines and chrome, with splashes of color from the cushions and rugs that looked like they'd been chosen by someone who knew their Pantone swatches by heart.
The living room looked like it belonged in a showroom rather than a home. There was a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, surrounded by shelves filled with books and knickknacks that all looked like they'd been arranged by a professional stylist. The sofa was a stark white leather, and the armchairs looked like they were made for a sci-fi movie set. Kyle couldn't imagine ever feeling comfortable enough to sit on them.
The kitchen was a chef's dream—stainless steel appliances, gleaming countertops, and not a speck of dust to be found. The refrigerator hummed quietly in the corner, filled with neatly arranged fruits and vegetables that looked like they'd been handpicked from a high-end supermarket. The cabinets were spotless, with not even a single fingerprint to mar their shiny surfaces. It was like nothing in this house was meant to be touched by mere mortals.
Aunt Grace showed him to the second floor, her heels clicking against the marble as they ascended the grand staircase. There were four bedrooms, she said, pointing to each door as they passed. His would be at the end of the hall, the only one with no lock. It had its own bathroom too, she added, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Kyle peeked into the rooms as they walked by. The first was obviously her office, with a large mahogany desk that took up most of the space. The blinds were drawn, and the only light came from the lamp on the desk, casting a warm, inviting glow. The room was filled with books and papers, a stark contrast to the rest of the house's minimalist style. It looked like a place where secrets were born and nurtured until they were ready to be let out into the world.
The second room was his aunt's bedroom, a sanctuary of serenity. The bed was made with military precision, the covers pulled so tight you could bounce a quarter off them. The furniture was antique, with a four-poster bed that looked like it had been stolen from a museum. The walls were adorned with more photos of flowers, but these were actual paintings. Kyle couldn't help but wonder if she had a secret love for botany.
The third room had a lock on the door, shut tight. She said it was off-limits and didn't elaborate.
His bedroom was indeed large, but it was like stepping into a minimalist's dream. The walls were painted a soft beige that matched the plush carpet, which felt like stepping on a cloud. The bed was a sleek, modern piece with a gray comforter that looked like it had been ironed within an inch of its life. There was a single nightstand with a lamp that had no bulb. The dresser was a stark white, with chrome handles that gleamed in the light. It was the kind of room that screamed 'no fun allowed'. The only thing that looked out of place was the large bay window that overlooked the backyard. It was like a portal to the outside world, beckoning him with the promise of escape.
"This is your space" she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We can decorate to your liking later".
Kyle nodded, his eyes still glued to the floor. He had no idea what his likes were. His room back home was a clutter of posters and dirty laundry. Here, it was like he'd stepped into a show home.
The next morning, Kyle's slumber was abruptly interrupted by the shrill sound of an alarm at 6 AM. He groaned, pulling the covers over his head, but the insistent knock on his door didn't cease. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and shuffled to the door. Aunt Grace was already dressed, her hair in a sleek bun, and she wore a black workout top and white yoga pants.
"Put these on" she said, tossing him a bag from some trendy exercise store.
Inside the bag was a pale pink exercise top and gray yoga pants. It was the kind of outfit that no self respecting boy would be caught wearing. He was about to protest but Aunt Grace's stern glare silenced his unspoken protests.
"What's this for?" he asked, finally finding his voice.
"Your future" she said curtly. "As soon as you're dressed, meet me in the exercise room in the basement".
Then she left.
Kyle looked down at the clothes in his hand. The pink top was like holding a declaration of his impending doom. He'd never worn anything pink before. But Aunt Grace had spoken and apparently, she wasn't one for compromise. He slipped on the yoga pants, feeling the material cling to his legs in a way that made him uncomfortable. The top was tight, hugging his chest and highlighting his lack of muscles. He looked at himself in the mirror and cringed. He was not cut out for this.
With a sigh, he headed down to the basement. The stairs creaked under his feet, echoing through the quiet house like a gunshot. The basement door was at the bottom of the stairs, a heavy oak monolith that looked like it hadn't been opened in years. He pushed it open and the smell of fresh paint and new equipment hit him like a sledgehammer. The room was vast, the walls painted a stark white that made him feel like he'd walked into a hospital room. The floor was a soft, padded material that felt like walking on a cloud.
In the center of the room was a gleaming treadmill, flanked by a rowing machine and a stationary bike. A weight bench and a rack of free weights lined one wall, with a punching bag in the corner. But what caught his eye was the ballet corner. It was like a mini-studio, with a floor-to-ceiling mirror taking up one whole wall, a ballet barre running along the bottom, and a pristine wooden floor that looked like it hadn't been touched. The barre was padded with white leather that matched the mirror.
Aunt Grace was already there, warming up with a set of weights. "Good morning, Kyle," she said, without missing a beat. "Let's start with some cardio, shall we?"
Kyle nodded, his eyes lingering on the ballet corner. He'd never been into sports, let alone the idea of ballet. But here he was, dressed in pink and gray, about to sweat in a room that smelled of fresh paint and ambition.
The first few days were hell. His body was not used to this kind of torture, and he was pretty sure that by the end of the week he'd be begging for mercy. The mornings started with a run on the treadmill that made him feel like he was on a never-ending conveyor belt to nowhere. Aunt Grace was relentless, pushing him to go faster, to push through the burn. After that came the weights, her sharp eyes never leaving him as he struggled to lift the barbell above his head. It was like she was trying to sculpt him into something he wasn't.
Breakfast was always something light, something 'good for him'. Fruit, yogurt, and granola that crunched in his mouth like tiny pieces of cardboard. He missed the greasy breakfast burritos from the local diner, the ones that left him feeling full and satisfied, not like he was about to starve. But he knew better than to complain. Aunt Grace didn't do well with whiners.
Then came the vitamins that she insisted would help "shape him up".
Each morning, after the cardio, Aunt Grace would mix a concoction of powders and pills into a glass of water that smelled like a swamp. "Drink up," she'd say with a smile that was more a challenge than a comfort. It was a ritual that Kyle came to dread, but he knew better than to argue. The taste was like a mix of chalk and grass, but he forced it down, hoping for a miracle that never came.
The rest of the day was a blur of chores that she deemed necessary to turn him into a 'respectable' young man. He learned to cook meals that weren't just microwaveable, to clean without leaving a single smudge, and even to fold towels into neat little triangles. It was mind-numbingly tedious, but Aunt Grace was a perfectionist and she didn't tolerate laziness.
It all felt pointless.
Grace had a routine for him, a strict regimen that she enforced with military precision. It was like she'd read every self-help book in existence and was now using him as her personal experiment. He'd run, lift weights, and take those dreaded vitamins, only to spend the afternoons doing chores that made him feel like Cinderella before the ball. It was exhausting, and no matter how much he complained, she just nodded and said, "It's all for your own good."
But it wasn't just his physical health she was after; she was also obsessed with his hygiene. Every morning, he'd be handed a basket of products that smelled like a field of flowers had thrown up in his bathroom. He showered every morning, using the fruity shampoo that made his hair smell like a piña colada and the body wash that made him feel like he'd been dipped in a vat of lavender. He'd emerge, scrubbed and scented, feeling more like a department store mannequin than a teenage boy.
Aunt Grace had stocked his bathroom with a lineup of moisturizers, scrubs, and serums that looked like they cost more than his entire gaming setup. She'd watch him with a critical eye as he applied them, giving instructions in a tone that suggested this was the most important thing he'd ever do. "Looking good and feeling good go hand in hand," she'd say, as if reciting a mantra. Kyle had never thought about his skin in such depth, but here he was, pondering the benefits of retinol and the necessity of a toner.
Each night, she'd sit him down and give him a lecture on the importance of skincare. She talked about the horrors of clogged pores and the beauty of a good exfoliant with the passion of a conspiracy theorist discussing their latest findings. Kyle nodded along, too tired to argue, too baffled to do anything but follow her instructions. He'd slather on the creams and serums, feeling the coolness of the products seep into his skin. He had to admit, it felt... good. The scents of lavender and chamomile filled the air, lulling him into a state of relaxation he hadn't felt in years.
The next week, things changed. The strange thing was, he didn't wake in the morning exhausted anymore. He even started waking before the alarm and dressing in his workout clothes without even thinking about it. There was something almost meditative about the routine, the way the fabric slid over his body, the smell of the room, the soft glow of the early dawn outside the window. It was like his body had finally accepted that this was the new normal.
He did his morning routine in the exercising room without complain. He took his vitamins without thinking about them anymore. He even did his chores with a pep in his step. He also noticed that the hygiene routine had made his skin and hair much softer, it was like he was glowing now.
But the thing that had really changed was his relationship with Aunt Grace. She'd started to crack a smile here and there, and her criticism had turned into guidance. She wasn't just his drill sergeant anymore; she was starting to feel like a coach, pushing him to be better but also acknowledging his efforts. He'd even caught her watching him with something that might have been pride when he managed to cook a decent meal or when he didn't trip over his own feet during their yoga sessions anymore.
One morning, she handed him a unisex leotard and some tights. "We're going to work on your grace," she said, her voice softer than usual.
Kyle looked at the outfit in horror. "What is this?"
"This is your ballet attire," Aunt Grace said firmly. "We're going to work on your posture, balance, and poise. It's not just for girls, you know. Plenty of men are quite successful in ballet."
Kyle took the leotard and tights with a look of utter disbelief. He'd seen guys in tights in video games, sure, but that was fantasy. This was real life. "What the...?"
"You've improved so much already" Aunt Grace explained, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Surely you want to see this through to the end?"
To the end? What end?
The leotard clung to him like a second skin, the tights leaving nothing to the imagination. Kyle looked in the mirror and couldn't help but snicker. He felt ridiculous, like a circus clown.
"You look adorable" said a beaming Grace behind him.
Kyle rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back the smirk that was playing on his lips.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," he said, turning to his aunt. "I'm not exactly... you know, graceful."
Aunt Grace just laughed. "That's what the lessons are for," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Now, let's get started."
And so, Kyle found himself at the ballet barre, feeling like the most ungraceful creature on earth. His feet felt like they were encased in concrete blocks as he attempted to perform the simple pliés she instructed. He stumbled, he wobbled, and once, he even face-planted into the pristine white carpet. But through it all, Aunt Grace remained unflappable, offering gentle corrections and encouragement.
A week later, Kyle began to notice something strange. His movements weren't just more coordinated; he felt more alive, more connected to his body. He'd always been a clumsy kid, but now, there was a grace to him that he hadn't had before. He could feel the muscles in his legs and arms strengthening, his balance improving. The burn in his muscles after a workout had turned into a familiar ache, a sign of progress.
The ballet lessons had become a strange source of comfort. He liked the way the fabric of the leotard hugged his body, the way the tights made him feel sleek and powerful. He'd never thought about posture before, but now, he found himself standing taller, his shoulders back. It was like he was discovering a new part of himself, a part that had been hidden beneath layers of laziness and doubt.
As the days went by, Kyle began to enjoy the lessons more and more. There was something about the precision of ballet that spoke to him, something that mirrored the way Aunt Grace approached the rest of her life. It was all about control, about pushing through the pain to achieve something beautiful.
The basement was no longer a prison but a place of transformation. He'd start with the cardio, his heart pumping in time with the music that Aunt Grace played, the thump of his feet on the treadmill echoing in the empty room. Then came the weights, his muscles protesting at first but gradually growing stronger, more defined. After that was the dreaded vitamin cocktail, followed by a breakfast that was both healthy and surprisingly filling.
The ballet lessons had become a sort of ritual for Kyle. He'd stand at the barre, his reflection in the mirror a blur of pink and gray. His body was changing, the angles softer, the muscles more refined. His biceps didn't bulge though, but there was a new kind of strength to him. A grace that was unmistakably feminine, yet undeniably powerful. He'd watch himself in the mirror, his movements becoming more fluid, his posture improving with each passing day.
The mornings had turned into a silent dance between Kyle and his reflection. He'd stare into the glass, his eyes meeting his own, and for a brief moment, he'd see someone different. Someone who didn't just play the hero in video games but was becoming one in his own life. The exercises had sculpted him, sure, but the ballet was doing something else, something deeper. It was as if the very essence of what it meant to be graceful was seeping into his bones, rearranging him from the inside out.
The lethargy of his former life was gone, replaced by a newfound energy that had him eagerly jumping out of bed every day. The idea of spending his days playing games and eating junk food was as alien to him as speaking in another language. Instead, he found joy in the burn of his muscles, the sweat on his brow, and the sense of accomplishment that came with every completed set.
In the mirror, Kyle's reflection had morphed into something unexpected. His body, once lanky and awkward, had taken on new curves and lines that hinted at the grace of a dancer. His stomach, though not sporting the chiseled abs of a teen magazine cover boy, had a softness to it that was surprisingly appealing. The muscles in his back and legs had elongated, no longer bulging but rather flowing into one another like a river of power. His chest had filled out just a bit, and the way the leotard clung to him highlighted the new shape of his physique.
He was still undeniably male, but there was a feminine elegance to his movements that he hadn't noticed before. When he lifted his arms, the muscles in his shoulders and back rippled in a way that was both powerful and delicate. His legs, now strong and lean, had a certain je ne sais quoi that made him feel lighter, as if he could leap into the air and float there. He found himself smoothing the leotard over his hips, admiring the way the fabric clung to his newfound curves.
It was strange and confusing though. He shouldn't have curves nor a muscle tone that belonged to a hot instagram model. He tried to ask Grace about it but she waved it off, telling him it was all because of the proper diet and exercise. When he tried to argue, she silenced it with one of her glares.
Things came to an interesting head when she took him into town that Saturday. His old clothes didn't fit properly anymore when he tried them on that morning. They were tight in some places and loose in others. He was confused, wondering when such a thing had happened. What's worse, his chest had been itchy as of late.
"Let's get you some new clothes," Aunt Grace said with a knowing smile. She handed him a pair of gray sweatpants and a hoodie that she'd bought for him. They were both a size smaller than he'd usually wear, but she insisted they'd fit.
Kyle reluctantly slipped into the clothes. The sweatpants clung to his body, outlining curves that weren't there before. He looked down, surprised at how his hips flared and his butt looked surprisingly... nice. The hoodie was another story. It was definitely meant for a girl. It had a deep scoop neck that showed off the swell of his new chest, and the fabric was softer than anything he'd ever worn. The material was so thin, it was like a second skin, revealing the new contours of his body.
Kyle was surprised. Had the exercise done this to him?
In town, heads turned as they strolled down the main street. The townsfolk, who had once regarded him with curiosity, now greeted him with smiles and nods. The compliments started rolling in from the shopkeepers they encountered, mostly women but also some men. They praised his newfound posture and the way he carried himself with poise. It was as if they were seeing him for the first time.
Kyle felt a blush creeping up his neck as a particularly attractive cashier at the boutique they visited gushed over his outfit, saying it brought out his eyes. His eyes? Kyle had never been one to get compliments from strangers, especially about his looks. Aunt Grace just chuckled, patting his shoulder proudly. "See? I told you that ballet would do wonders for you."
But when they reached the market, his heart skipped a beat as he spotted Chris, standing outside by the vending machines, looking utterly alone. The other teens from the group were nowhere in sight. Chris' eyes widened when he saw Kyle, and for a moment, Kyle wondered if he'd made a mistake in accepting this outing. Grace's grip on his arm tightened briefly, and then she let go, giving him a knowing smile before sauntering away to enter the store, leaving them alone.
"Kylie?" Chris asked, confused.
Kyle didn't notice how Chris had feminized his name.
"Hey, Chris," he said, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"
Chris's face lit up. "You look...different" he admitted, wondering had "she" always been this feminine?
Then again he'd only met her that once and she was dressed in a baggy hoodie at the time.
Chris leaned against the vending machine, his eyes scanning Kyle up and down. "What's with the new look?" he asked with a smirk. "You're looking pretty... fit."
Kyle shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious. "Aunt Grace's idea of a summer makeover," he said, trying to laugh it off.
He was completely oblivious to everything.
Chris gave him a strange, almost said look before continuing. "You know, I honestly think you look a lot better now"
"Thanks" said Kyle, absently pushing some hair behind his left ear in a very feminine gesture not lost on Chris.
Chris leaned in closer. "So, Kylie, want to catch a movie tonight?" he asked with a confidence that seemed to rise out of nowhere, surprising even himself.
Kyle's eyes lit up. "Yeah, sure," he said, not picking up on the flirty undertone in Chris's voice. "It's been forever since I've seen anything on the big screen."
Chris grinned. "Great," he said, his eyes lingering on Kyle's new curves. "How about the seven o'clock showing of that new action flick?"
"Sounds great, dude" said an enthusiastic Kyle, happy for a chance to get out of the house and away from Aunt Grace.
But when he mentioned his plans to Aunt Grace, her expression grew thoughtful. "A movie?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, we can't have you going out looking like that."
Kyle looked down at his sweatpants and hoodie, feeling self-conscious. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"It's not about what's wrong, Kylie," Aunt Grace said, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "It's about what's right for the occasion."
He didn't even notice that she called him "Kylie" either.
The evening of the movie, Aunt Grace had him dressed in a way that made him feel both excited and anxious. He was in a pair of skinny black jeans that hugged his new curves like a second skin, and a crop top that revealed a hint of the muscles he'd worked so hard on. His hair was styled in a way that framed his face, making his eyes look bigger and his cheekbones more prominent.
He was reluctant to wear the top but when she gave him a stylish leather jacket to pair with it, he was over the moon. He used to beg his mother to let him have a jacket like that but she never budged. She said it made him look like a thug. Looking in the mirror with it on, he thought he looked "cool". In truth, it was a feminine cut jacket, if anything it made him look cute and sexy. Not like he noticed again.
The "date" started at the local pizza place, Vinnie's, where Chris introduced him to all the local teens. They were a mix of guys and girls, all dressed in stylish, slightly edgy ways that made Kyle feel a bit out of place in his new attire. But as the night went on, he realized that they were all just like him—trying to find their place in the world, looking for acceptance in a town that hadn't changed much since they were kids.
There was something strange about the way they interacted though. Some of them acted almost awkward and clumsy, like baby chicks right out of their shells.
Chris had his arm casually around Kyle's waist, guiding him through the crowd, introducing him as "my friend Kylie". The way they interacted was so different from the first time they met. It was as if Kyle had become a part of the group overnight. The teens at the pizza place looked him over, some with envy, others with admiration, and a few with something else entirely. Kyle felt like the belle of the ball, the newest member of a cool clique.
The smell of cheese and tomato sauce filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and the clink of silverware. He'd never been to Vinnie's before, and the buzz of energy was infectious. He slid into the booth next to Chris, the cool leather of the jacket brushing against the vinyl upholstery. The others crowded around, eager to get to know him better.
The conversation flowed easily, and Kyle felt himself relaxing. He'd forgotten what it was like to be around people his own age, to share stories and laugh at jokes that didn't involve his mom or his aunt's weird habits. They talked about school, their favorite movies, and the latest gossip. It was like he'd stumbled into a secret club, and he was finally a member.
They talked and laughed until a little before seven then they headed off to the local movie theater. It was an old theater building that looked like it had been there since the turn of last century.
The movie was one of those typical action flicks, full of explosions and one-liners. But Kyle couldn't focus on the screen. It wasn't because the movie was bad, but because of the warmth that was emanating from the body next to him. It was Chris, who had somehow managed to slide his arm around Kyle's shoulders without him even noticing.
He felt a strange tingling sensation, something he'd never felt before. It was uncomfortable yet oddly comforting. The smell of Chris's cologne filled his nostrils, making him feel dizzy. He tried to shift away, but his body seemed to have a mind of its own, leaning back into the embrace.
Chris looked down at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You okay, Kylie?" he whispered, his breath hot against Kyle's ear.
Kyle nodded, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. He couldn't put his finger on why, but something felt... off. Like he was watching the movie through a foggy lens, unable to focus on the explosions and car chases.
As the credits rolled, Chris leaned over, his breath hot on Kyle's cheek. "So, what did you think?"
Kyle's heart was thumping. "I think it was wonderful" he said softly.
Chris's smile grew wider, and for a moment, Kyle thought he was going to lean in for a kiss. But instead, he pulled back, a playful look in his eyes. "Good to know," he said, his voice low and intimate. "We'll have to do this again."
Kyle nodded, his heart racing. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Definitely."
The drive home was a blur. Kyle couldn't stop thinking about the way Chris's arm had felt around him, the warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne. He'd never been this close to anyone before, and the feelings it stirred up in him were confusing, to say the least.
When Aunt Grace opened the door, she took one look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like you had a good time," she said, her eyes twinkling.
"It was amazing," Kyle said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Thanks for letting me go."
Aunt Grace's smile was knowing. "You're welcome, Kylie," she said, calling him by the new nickname that seemed to stick more and more. "I'm just happy to see you making friends."
The rest of the night, Kyle couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. He lay in bed, replaying the evening in his mind, from the moment he'd met up with Chris to the awkward goodbye at the door. Had that really been a date? It had felt like one, with the way Chris had looked at him and talked to him. But Kyle had never been on a date before, let alone with a boy.
The next week was indeed confusing, especially as he drifted more into this new shift of his life. The leotard and tights had become second nature, the exercises a routine that brought him a strange sense of peace. His body continued to change, the muscles growing softer and more defined, his movements more fluid. The mirror reflected a person he barely recognized, a person who was becoming more and more comfortable in their own skin.
The feminization was subtle at first. He noticed that the leotards fit more snugly, the fabric stretching over his growing breasts. His hips had widened, his waist narrowing into a curve that made him feel like a woman. The reflection in the mirror was definitely more girl than boy now, with a softness to his features that made him look...pretty. Kyle didn't know what to think about it, but he couldn't deny that it felt good to look good.
But it was more than just the clothes fitting differently. His skin was smoother, his body hair thinner. He'd caught himself a few times stroking the newfound curves of his hips and chest, marveling at the softness of his skin. And when he looked in the mirror, his eyes were somehow brighter, more... alive. It was like he was becoming someone else. Someone who was accepted and liked.
The confusion grew when Aunt Grace started calling him "Kylie" more often than not. At first, he'd just shrugged it off as a slip of the tongue, but the more she said it, the more it stuck. It was like she was seeing someone else when she looked at him. And the weird thing was, he didn't hate it. He liked the way the name rolled off her tongue, the way it made him feel.
As the summer progressed, Kyle found himself spending more and more time with Chris. It started with casual hangouts, playing video games and watching movies at Chris's house but it quickly grew into something else. They'd walk down to the local park, holding hands, the sun setting on their faces, turning their skin a warm golden color. The town's people started to whisper, but Kyle didn't care. It was like he was in a bubble, a world where only he and Chris mattered.
One night, Chris said something that made Kyle feel weird: "You're doing a lot better with this than I thought".
Kyle looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
Chris leaned back on the couch, studying him intently. "You know, the whole..." His voice trailed off at the clueless look that Kyle was giving him. "Holy shit, you have no idea!"
Kyle blinked, his eyes widening with confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Chris bit his lip. "Wait here" he said, leaving Kyle on the couch.
He left the living room, coming back a few seconds later with a pink cased smartphone. It was the kind of phone a girl might have. Chris sat down next to him and started scrolling through the phone until he showed Kyle a selfie of a very pretty blonde girl, making a ridiculous kissy face at the screen. There was something very familiar about the girl.
Kyle stared at her. "She's cute, is this your sister?"
Chris sighed. "No, not even close" he set the phone aside with a sigh. "That's....me"
Kyle looked at him with confusion. "But that's a girl!" Kylie gave him a once over. "Are you trans? Its cool if you are, I won't judge"
Chris squeezed his hand and shook his head. "Its a little more complicated than that"
"You see," he began, his eyes searching Kyle's for any signs of understanding, "Harrow is a...special place. Some say it's cursed, others say it's blessed."
Chris took a deep breath, his thumb tracing the edge of the phone. "Every few generations, something strange happens here. One in five people... they just change. Like me. I was born Abigail."
Kyle's eyes went wide. "I don't understand..."
"Harrow Born" said Chris as if it explained everything. "Its what we're called. The Spontaneous Ones. Some call us Fivers. Regardless, we're born one gender and change to another before our 18th birthday."
"Why are you telling me?" asked Kyle, scared and confused.
"Let me ask you something" Chris took a calculated breath. "Cheer Camp or Football Camp?"
"What?" asked Kyle, more confused.
Chris laughed. "Did your parents try to enroll you in Cheer Camp or Soccer Camp growing up?"
Kyle was starting to put it together. "Soccer" he said softly.
Chris shook his head. "Sounds like they knew but we're trying to see for sure. Some parents can't accept it, others try to change it. They can't. Nothing stops it. My parents accepted it, they sent me to Football Camp. I hated it. I still hate football, stupid sport".
Kyle nodded slowly, his mind racing with questions. "But why tell me?"
"I think you know" said Chris, giving his hand another squeeze.
Kyle sighed. Yeah he knew. For a split moment, he almost thought that his Aunt and his mother had concocted some twisted plan to turn him into a girl. His mother had always wanted a daughter after all. Which made him wonder. Had his mother suspected he was Harrow Born or had she known? What's more, was she Harrow Born too? This was the town his mother grew up in after all? Was that why she sent him here? She knew he was going to change?
He looked down at his now much softer, more feminine hands. The nails painted a delicate shade of pink that Aunt Grace had applied a few days ago. He'd been so clumsy at first, smearing it everywhere. But now, it was as if he'd been doing it all his life. He felt a mix of anger and betrayal bubble up in his chest. How could they keep something like this from him? How could they let him live his whole life not knowing what was going to happen to him?
But as he sat there, the anger slowly dissipated. It was replaced by a strange feeling of... relief. It wasn't his Aunt's doing. It wasn't his mother's. It wasn't because he was weak or not enough of a man. It was just who he was. And if Chris could handle it, if he could be happy as who he was, maybe Kyle could too.
"You ok?" asked Chris.
Kyle nodded but burst into tears anyway. Chris held him and let him cry on his shoulder.
When Kyle went home that night, he was still pretty angry at Aunt Grace. He glared at her and stomped to his room.
The next morning, Kyle woke up early, dressed in a pair of shorts and a tee and stomped downstairs, ready to confront Aunt Grace. He found her in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea and flipping through a magazine.
"Aunt Grace," he said, his voice shaking with anger, "You knew! This whole time you knew and you didn't say anything!"
He was practically screaming at her.
Grace was in high form too. "Don't use that tone of voice with me young lady"
There it was. Grace had known.
"How could you!" Kyle all but screamed again.
Grace glared. "Calm down right now and we'll talk about it like civil people"
It took Kyle a few minutes but he finally stopped seething and dropped into a kitchen chair.
"Your mother was worried," Aunt Grace began, setting down her magazine, her eyes filled with a gentle understanding that didn't match the sternness of her words. "She knew that she couldn't handle it, not like I can. You see, I went through the same thing. I know what it's like to wake up one day and realize that you're not who you thought you were."
Kyle was shocked. Grace was beautiful and so feminine. There wasn't a trace of her ever being a boy. Then again he realized there was no trace of Abigail left in Chris either.
Grace took a sip of tea, her eyes never leaving Kyle. "When your mother found out she was pregnant with you, she was terrified. She knew the risks of having a Harrow Born child, especially in our family."
Kyle felt his stomach twist. "Why keep it a secret?"
Aunt Grace sighed, setting down her tea. "Your mother didn't want you to live in fear," she said. "She wanted you to have a normal childhood. And she knew that if she told you, you might spend your whole life worrying about when it would happen."
Had Chris worried his whole life?
"She could have told me, prepared me" he said, a little pissed off.
"Would you have listened? Would you have believed her?" asked Grace.
Kyle admitted he probably would have thought he was nuts.
"It wasn't easy for her" Grace continued. "When she moved away, she was determined not to have children. Then she met your father and things happened. When he bailed after you were born, after she told him the truth of what might happen, she was devastated. She was hoping to have a normal child, hoping your father's genes would cancel things out. She was pretty confident she was having a little girl too. Best laid plans I suppose. At first you seemed like a normal boy but she tried testing you. The thing is, you didn't gravitate to anything boyish or girly until you were older. You definitely screamed boy but looked so pretty." Grace took a breath. "When puberty didn't happen at 13, we knew. She was hoping to tell you but you were such a lazy kid, she decided tough love was the only answer to help you see it through"
"So she sent me to the man hater?" he said and regretted it instantly.
Grace burst out laughing. "That's how you saw me..." Her voice trailed off. "Oh God, I suppose I did come across as a bitch. It wasn't intentionally, it was hard for me. I was jealous a bit when it looked like you weren't Harrow Born but now..."
"I'm definitely a girl" he said softly.
She nodded. "You like Chris don't you?"
Kyle said nothing but his blush was enough.
Grace nodded. "It's alright, it happens to most of us. You'll get used to it. But let's talk about what we need to do now."
The following days saw a shift in the dynamics of the house. Gone were the feminine outfits that had been forced upon Kyle. Now they were chosen with care, picked out with his newfound understanding of his identity. He started to enjoy the feel of the fabrics against his skin, the way the clothes hugged his new curves. He was still a boy in his mind but his body was definitely that of a young woman, changing every day.
The workouts grew more intense, and Aunt Grace became more than a drill sergeant—she became a mentor, a guide through the tumultuous journey of becoming a Harrow Born. They talked about the changes happening to his body, the emotions that swirled like a tornado in his chest. She taught him to appreciate his new form, to see the beauty in it.
Chris and Kyle grew closer, their bond forged in the fire of shared experiences. They'd sit for hours, talking about their fears, their hopes, and their dreams. Kyle found solace in Chris's understanding and the gentle way he touched his hand, his eyes full of patience and acceptance. It was like he'd found a piece of himself that he didn't know was missing.
One evening, as they watched the sun set from the porch, Kyle finally found the courage to call his mother. She answered on the second ring, her voice tentative and hopeful. "K-K-Kyle?" she stuttered.
"It's me, Mom," Kyle said, his voice softer, more melodic than he remembered.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, he thought she'd hung up. Then, she spoke, her voice shaking with a mix of surprise and fear. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I was so scared..."
Kyle took a deep breath. "It's okay, Mom. I get it now. It's just...different."
His mother sighed in relief. "I'm so proud of you, Kylie," she said, the name slipping out naturally. "You're growing up so fast, becoming such a beautiful young woman."
Kyle bit his lip. "Mom, not Kylie. Its too weird".
There was a pause on the line. "Alright, Kyle, but just know that you can call yourself whatever you want. It's your journey."
"What would you have called me if I'd been born a girl?" he asked, wanting his mother to be apart of this journey too.
Her voice grew soft. "Well, if you had been a girl, I always liked the name Olivia."
Kyle felt his heart clench. "Olivia," he murmured, rolling it over his tongue. It felt right. It felt like a name that belonged to this new person looking back at him in the mirror.
The rest of the summer passed in a blur. He embraced his new name, Olivia, and with it, the changes that continued to unfold. His body grew softer, his features more delicate. Aunt Grace's house was no longer a prison but a sanctuary, a place where he could be himself—or rather, herself. The exercises and diet that once felt like punishment were now a celebration of the beauty that grew within her.
Olivia found comfort in the routine, the predictability of each day offering a sense of control amidst the chaos of change. The ballet lessons grew more intense, her body adapting to the art's strict discipline. The leotards and pointe shoes that once felt alien now hugged her figure with a familiar embrace, her movements in them more natural with each passing week.
Chris remained by her side, a constant in a world that felt as if it was spinning out of control. Their bond grew stronger, each shared smile and whispered conversation adding another thread to the tapestry of their relationship. It was as if he had been there all along, a silent guardian in the shadows, waiting for her to emerge.
The day came when Chris took Olivia to the town's summer carnival. The lights twinkled in the early evening sky, casting a warm glow on their faces as they walked hand in hand. It was a simple date, filled with the kind of innocent excitement that comes from the knowledge that you've found someone who sees you, truly sees you, for who you are. They laughed and talked, sharing a cotton candy that stuck to their fingers and faces, leaving them both with a sugary smile.
As they approached the Ferris wheel, Olivia felt a flutter in her stomach. This was it. This was where she'd kiss a boy for the first time as a girl. And not just any boy—Chris. Her heart raced as they boarded the creaking ride, the wind playing with her hair, making it dance around her face like a soft pink veil. They sat in the little car at the top, the world below them a blur of color and sound, and for a moment, it was just the two of them.
Chris looked at her, his eyes filled with a warmth that made her feel like she was home. "You're beautiful," he said, his voice low and sincere.
Olivia blushed. "Thanks," she said, looking down at her new dress. It was a soft shade of pink that matched the blush on her cheeks. Aunt Grace had picked it out, saying it would make her look like a "true Harrow Born lady."
Chris's thumb brushed against hers as they walked, sending a thrill through her. She had never felt this way before, like every touch was electric. It was a strange and wonderful feeling, like discovering a secret part of herself she had never known existed.
He kissed her when they reached the top. It was perfect.
It solidified her as a girl through and through.
When Summer finally came to an end, Olivia felt a pang of sadness that she hadn’t anticipated. She had grown to love the quaint town of Harrow, with its peculiar secrets and welcoming embrace of the Harrow Born. The thought of leaving Chris behind was unbearable, but she had to return to her old life, or what was left of it.
As the day of her departure approached, Aunt Grace took her aside. "Your mother called," she said, her voice gentle. "She's coming to pick you up tomorrow."
Olivia felt a knot form in her stomach. She didn't know how to feel. On one hand, she was excited to see her mom, but on the other, she was scared of what awaited her outside this little bubble of acceptance.
When her mother's car pulled up, she saw a woman who looked both exhausted and hopeful. The lines on her face had deepened, but her eyes shone with an excitement that was contagious. "You look...so beautiful" her mother said, trying to hide the shock in her voice.
Mother and daughter hugged for the first time, both teary eyed.
Her mother looked at her with a mix of amazement and love. "I had no idea," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But I'm so proud of you, Olivia."
Olivia felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The secret she had carried alone for so long was now shared, and with it came a sense of relief. They talked for hours about the summer, about Chris, about the changes she had gone through, and about the future. Her mother listened intently, her eyes never leaving Olivia's face.
And then she was even more surprised when her mother told her they were moving to Harrow. "What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her mother nodded, her eyes filled with determination. "It's for the best," she said, her voice steady. "We need to be closer to your Aunt Grace, and I think it's time for a change of scenery. Plus this is a place where you can grow and learn to be the girl you are now with people who will understand you more than anyone else in the world"
Olivia was thrilled beyond words. She was staying in Harrow. The town had become a second home, filled with the people who had helped shape her into the young woman she was becoming. She couldn't wait to tell Chris the news. As soon as her mother had unpacked the car and started unloading her luggage, Olivia slipped away. She didn't bother changing out of her travel clothes. The excitement bubbled within her, urging her to run the short distance to Chris's house.
Her heart raced as she sprinted down the familiar streets, her feet barely touching the ground. When she reached his door, she could feel the anticipation building. She took a deep breath and knocked. The door swung open, and there he was, looking surprised and slightly confused.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, shocked and surprised to see her. "I thought you..."
His eyes were red from crying.
She threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso. "I'm not going anywhere"
Chris's eyes went wide with surprise, before he broke into a grin. "You're staying?"
"I'm staying" she said.
The two of them kissed.
At the beginning of the summer, she never thought this where her life was going to be. She was no longer that lazy, bored boy anymore. She was Harrow Born and this is where she was always meant to be.
The End.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Callum stretched out on his bed, his fingers poised over the keyboard. "Always," he responded, the light from the computer screen casting an eerie glow across the room.
The door to Callum's bedroom creaked open and his sister, Rachel, peeked in. "What are you still doing up?" she whispered, her voice a gentle reminder of the late hour. Rachel was the complete opposite of Callum in terms of appearance - her hair was a fiery red and she took meticulous care of her complexion, which was as flawless as porcelain. She looked a lot like their late father, even got some of his short stature.
The only thing Callum got from their Dad was his sense of humor and carefree attitude.
Callum looked at Rachel's reflection in the darkened computer screen, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Just finishing up some homework," he lied. Rachel raised an eyebrow but didn't argue, closing the door quietly behind her. Callum chuckled to himself and turned back to the game, his eyes flicking to the chat box where Mark was already setting up their next battle royale.
He hoped when Rachel graduated in June, she'd stop trying to mother him. Their mother was pretty hands off in terms of letting him and his sister do what they want. Rachel on the other hand, tried too hard to make sure her little brother was on the straight and narrow.
"Alright, Callie," Mark said with a smirk in his voice, "you're on. Get ready to be destroyed."
Callum rolled his eyes and cracked his knuckles. "Bring it on," he quipped, his voice filled with confidence. Despite the banter, a warmth spread through him. Mark had always been the one constant in his life, the friend who understood him without judgment.
As they dived into the virtual battleground, the chaos of the game washed over them. The sound of gunfire and explosions filled the quiet room, punctuated by their laughter and shouts. Callum felt a sense of belonging that he didn't find in the real world. Mark had been his confidant through thick and thin, from sharing secrets about their first crushes to helping him navigate the tumultuous waters of high school.
Mark had moved away when they were eight, a time when the world had seemed so much simpler. Their families had once been inseparable, strengthening their bond over summer vacations at Lake Willowbrook Resort, a picturesque camping spot nestled among the pines. The smell of campfires and the sound of their fathers' laughter echoed through the nights as they shared stories and roasted marshmallows. But when Callum's dad passed away two years ago, the annual tradition crumbled along with their family's spirit. His mom, buried under the weight of grief and a demanding job, had no time or energy to plan such outings anymore. The lake had become a painful reminder of what they had lost, so they stopped going.
Now, the only connection Callum had to those carefree days was Mark's daily check-ins and their nightly gaming sessions. They had grown closer than ever, their friendship a lifeline through the fog of change. Without the physical presence of his best friend, Callum often found himself lost in the vastness of his own thoughts. Mark, however, remained as vibrant and present as ever through the screen, a beacon of familiarity in an ever-evolving world.
As the years ticked by, their bond grew stronger despite the distance. They had a silent understanding that their friendship was unshakeable, transcending the miles that separated them. Callum knew that Mark had his own life in a different town with a new set of friends, but their shared history was a thread that tied them inextricably together.
Callum didn't really have any friends outside of Mark. Not for lack of trying though. Most of the boys in his school were always very awkward around him after all. Whereas they all knew he was a guy, it was hard to relate to a boy that was "prettier" than a lot of the girls. While Callum had gotten his snark from his Dad, he got everything else from his Mom. Her Nordic heritage had passed over Rachel and went straight to him. Many would describe him as "tall, blonde and angelic".
Mark never cared about that though. Funny enough, they joked about it all the time. Its actually when Mark started calling him "Callie". It was an inside joke because everyone thought Callum looked like a girl.
"So tell me about the dude" said Mark, into their fourth of fifth match.
Callum sighed. "He wouldn't take no for an answer. He was also convinced I was lying to him about being a guy"
Mark burst into laughter, his avatar in the game pausing mid-stride. "What'd you say to him?"
Callum shrugged, his gaze never leaving the screen. "When he got insisted and wouldn't take No for an answer, I told him I had a boyfriend."
Mark snickered. "I think I'm jealous of this imaginary Mr. Right"
The two laughed about it a bit before Callum changed the subject back to the game at hand. They played well into the night. Thankfully it was Saturday.
Sunday morning, Callum went through his daily routine with the same casual indifference he reserved for all things mundane. He woke up to the smell of his mother's pancakes, a weekly tradition she held onto since his dad passed. Rachel was already dressed and ready for her shift at the local bookstore. She fake kissed Callum on the forehead before leaving, her hair smelling faintly of vanilla and mint, a scent that lingered in the air long after she left.
Callum trudged through his homework, the pages of his textbook as dry as the toast he made himself for breakfast. The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the worn wooden table. He could feel the weight of each minute drag by, the tick of the wall clock echoing the rhythm of his pencil against paper.
The chores his mother had listed weren't much better. He started with the dishes, the clinking and clanking a familiar melody that seemed to accompany every weekend. The kitchen, a place of warmth and comfort, was now a battlefield of greasy plates and sticky countertops. Rachel had left a trail of laundry behind her, so he begrudgingly tackled that next. The scent of fabric softener filled the air as he sorted and folded, his mind wandering to the afternoon's reprieve: his call with Mark.
He set his laptop up in the living room, pulled his hair back in a ponytail and sat with his legs crossed like usual. Then he video called Mark.
"Hey," Mark answered, his smile wide, his whole face appearing on the screen.
"You do actually live in your house, right?" Callum joked.
Mark was out on his usual Sunday basketball match with his buds.
"Who's that?" A voice boomed from behind Mark, as someone playfully slapped Mark's back, peering over his shoulder at the screen.
Callum knew most of Mark's basketball teammates by name only. Seeing this tall, sandy blonde step up behind Mark meant next to nothing to him.
Before Mark could answer, the guy decided to do all the talking: "Hey babe, I'm Ben. You Mark's girl, the one he always talks about?"
Wait, Mark had a girl?
Callum couldn't understand how Mark had a girlfriend and hadn't said anything to him?
"Yeah," Mark said without missing a beat, "this is Callie"
Callum's eyes widened. What the hell?
"Oh, you're the infamous Callie," Ben said, grinning widely. "Mark's talked about you so much, I feel like I already know you."
Callum felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He stared at Mark, willing his best friend to correct the mistake, but Mark just winked back at him, his eyes gleaming with mischief. In most cases, Callum would have been all onboard with this but he didn't like the look in Ben's eyes.
Callum knew when to mess with people and when to back off. Ben was a No Go for him.
"Mark, who's that?" he said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
Mark mouthed "sorry" at him before answering. "This is my teammate, Ben"
Ben was relentless. "So, Callie, what do you think of Mark's skills on the court?"
Callum's cheeks grew hot. "I think he's pretty good," he replied, hoping to keep the conversation light.
But Ben wasn't easily deterred. He leaned closer to the screen, his eyes scanning Callum up and down. "You guys must be really close, huh?"
Callum inwardly sighed. He shot Mark a look but Mark was now averting his eyes.
"Callie," Ben continued, "you've got to tell me, does Mark ever take a break from being a basketball god?"
"Only when we're gaming"
Callum said with a forced smile, his eyes flicking towards Mark, willing him to change the topic. But Mark was enjoying this too much, his grin growing wider with every awkward exchange.
"Oh, you guys are gamers? That's so cute," Ben said, his voice dripping with condescension.
Callum felt his jaw clench. Mark's hand flew over his face, trying to muffle his laughter. "Yeah, we go way back," he managed to say, trying to keep the conversation light. "Childhood buds"
"No shit, that's cool".
"Ben, Mark!" someone shouted from the court. "Less chatting, more playing!"
Mark quickly said his goodbyes, shutting off his phone.
Callum was flabbergasted and really confused.
Later that night, Callum's phone buzzed with a text from Mark. "Hey Callie, you got a sec to chat?" It was their usual check-in, a ritual they had maintained since the move.
Callum took a deep breath and swiped to answer the call. Mark's face popped up on the screen, a sheepish expression painted across his features. "So, about today..." he began, his voice trailing off.
"Let me guess, they heard you call me Callie and thought I was a girl?"
Mark sighed. "Sorry dude".
Callum laughed. Its not like this wasn't the first time. Though most of the time, he liked to be in on the joke. He definitely didn't like to be blindsided by it like what happened with Ben earlier. Callum was all for fooling people when it was for a few laughs, hell he'd done it a few times before. There was a time when they were twelve at the lake and for the whole time there, Callum was mistaken for a girl like usual and with the help of Rachel and Mark's sister, Becky, they fooled everyone into thinking he was Callie. It was a lot of fun but it only needed a few small details.
He still liked being in on the joke.
"Sorry, when they heard me talking about Callie, they just assumed. I wanted to correct them but the more I talked about you, the more it..."
This time Callum sighed. "The more it sounded like you and I were a thing..." He laughed, it was all pretty funny actually. "You put your foot in it this time"
"I know, I know," Mark said, his cheeks reddening slightly even through the screen. "But here's the kicker, they actually believe it now. They think you're my girlfriend."
Mark then went on to explain how they thought Callie was some imaginary girl that he'd made up. Now that Ben had seen "her" though, they were praising him. Apparently "Callie" was an absolute 10, one of the hottest girls they'd seen. Callum wasn't sure how to react to that one, though he did hid his blush.
For the next couple of days, life went on as usual. Callum went to school, dodging the occasional awkward glance from some guys as usual. His classes were a blur of textbooks and boredom, punctuated by the anticipation of Mark's texts and calls. They'd laugh about the whole "Callie" situation, making up ridiculous stories about their "relationship" and the epic tales of their "dates". It was like they were back at the lake again, crafting wild adventures together, except this was a bit more... complicated.
They played all night, laughing and having the usual good time. Right before they were about to call it a night, Mark dropped a bombshell:
"So, the Christmas dance is in a week," he began, his tone casual as ever, but the tension was palpable even through the phone screen. "And the guys... they want to meet Callie."
Callum froze mid-laugh. "Meet Callie?" he repeated, his voice a tad too high.
"Yeah, they want to meet her," Mark said, his voice a mix of dread and excitement. "They think she's the coolest girlfriend ever, because she plays games and doesn't get mad at me for playing with them."
Mark started to list some other things his teammates like about Callie but Callum wasn't listening.
"She doesn't exist, Mark" he interrupted.
Mark leaned closer to the camera, his eyes earnest. "But she kind of does"
Callum rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you're not actually planning on taking 'Callie' to the dance, are you?"
"Well..."
"Dude, I'm Callie. Did you forget that part?"
Callum's voice was thick with sarcasm, but Mark's expression remained unchanged, his eyes locked onto Callum's through the screen.
"Yeah about that..."
"Go fuck yourself" said Callum, ending the call.
He threw his phone across the room and it smacked against the wall with a loud thud, leaving a crack in the paint. This was ridiculous. He was not going to dress up as a girl for Mark's high school dance.
But as the night wore on and the house grew quiet, Callum found himself unable to shake the idea. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Mark was in a tough spot. His friend had painted himself into a corner and Callum didn't want to leave him hanging. Plus, it was kind of a compliment that they believed Mark was dating someone as cool as "Callie".
The next morning, Mark called again, his voice tentative. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."
Callum took a deep breath, his anger from the night before dissipating slightly. He knew Mark didn't have the best track record with social situations, and this was definitely a doozy. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer than he'd intended. "I just... I don't know, it's a weird situation."
Mark's sigh of relief was audible through the phone. "Yeah, I get it," he said. "But, Callie, I really need your help. I don't know what to do. They're all expecting me to bring you."
Callum rubbed his eyes, the sleep not quite gone yet. "So what are you suggesting?" he asked warily.
"You're serious?" asked Mark, excited.
"I'm not saying yes but I'm not saying no either. I need to know what exactly you want me to do?" Callum took a deep breath after, waiting for Mark's answer.
Mark's voice was a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Oh my god, you're actually considering it?"
Callum sighed and leaned back against his bed. "I'm just saying, I don't want you to get into trouble with your friends. But I'm not going to lie, it's weird."
Mark's face fell. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just... I didn't think it would go this far."
"Mark, you let your friends think I was a girl and your girlfriend and yet you didn't think it would go this far?"
Mark looked genuinely apologetic. "Callie, I know, I'm sorry. I really didn't think it'd come to this."
Callum studied his friend's expression, the seriousness in Mark's tone tugging at his heartstrings. He knew Mark wasn't the best at navigating social waters, and he didn't want to leave him drowning. Plus, the idea of pulling off such an elaborate ruse had a certain allure to it. It was the kind of thing they'd done together when they were kids, only with a lot more at stake. "Okay," he said with a sigh, "I'll help you out, but this better be worth it."
"What do you want?" Mark asked, his voice hopeful.
Callum paused, his mind racing. "I want..." He thought for a moment, a mischievous smile curling his lips. "I want your entire collection of limited edition comic books. The ones you've been hoarding since we were kids."
Mark's eyes widened. "But Callie, those are my babies!"
"Well, you put me in this mess, so you've got to make it worth my while," Callum replied, his smirk unwavering.
Mark groaned dramatically. "Fine, fine. You can have the comics, but only if you promise to take really good care of them....and you've gotten be convincing. No boy in a dress, I want the hottest girlfriend in the whole place"
Callum smirked. "You want hot, I'll give you hot"
He ended the call there and began to scheme.
Callum knew Rachel was going to be his only way out of this. Rachel had always had a flair for drama, and she loved any opportunity to play dress-up with him. He took a deep breath and pondered how to approach this without sounding too desperate. He couldn't just ask her outright without giving her the full story. That would be a disaster.
He waited for Rachel to come home from work, and when he heard the jingle of her keys in the lock, he knew it was showtime. He waited until she had settled down in the kitchen, her nose buried in a book, to casually stroll in and plop down on the chair opposite her.
"So" he said, testing the waters. "It turns out Mark told everyone at school I'm his girlfriend."
She looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow. "Well you definitely have the looks for it"
Callum smirked. "So that mean you're in?"
Rachel set down her book. "We talking Just One of The Girls, Ladybugs or Mrs. Doubtfire?"
Callum cringed at the idea of slapping on a wig, stuffing a bra with socks and prancing around in a dress. They could do much better than that, especially with Rachel's theater background.
"I think we need to go all in" he said, confident in his sister's skills.
Rachel looked at him with a glint in her eye. "Okay, you got yourself a deal," she said with a mischievous smile. "But this isn't just for the comics, is it?"
Rachel had always had this secret inking about Callum. He was far too pretty to be a boy and she always wondered if perhaps he thought differently. She knew he used her moisturizer and shampoo on a regular basis. She also remembered how just about every summer, he and Mark would fool all the boys at the lake with his "girl mode" pranks. Puberty had not been kind to her brother either. Sure he was tall but he had no real facial hair to speak of and he still had a fairly soft voice. It was like the universe was trying to tell himself but he was too ignorant to listen. She smiled at the thought of maybe helping him see the light?
"Okay, let's talk strategy," Rachel said, her mind racing with ideas. "We're going to need clothes, makeup, definitely some padding and some boobs, and lots of practice."
Callum groaned. "You're enjoying this way too much."
Rachel winked. "Oh, you know I am. Now, let's get started."
They raided Rachel's closet, her extensive collection of clothes providing a smorgasbord of options. She pulled out a cute pink dress that she hadn't worn in years, a little tight but it'd have to do. Callum looked at it with skepticism. Rachel also grabbed some makeup from her vanity, a few pairs of her shoes, and a couple of necklaces that she thought would suit "Callie" perfectly. Then she remembered the theater department at her school had some props that might come in handy.
They did a quick dress up session to see if it was even possible for him to pass as a girl. She made him strip to his boxers---they'd worry about appropriate underwear later---and had him put on the dress. Then she covered the mirror while she worked on his hair and makeup. She didn't want him to see the final product until she was done.
When she finally finished though, she was flabbergasted.
Callum was a knockout.
She knew he would be pretty but the girl in front of her was downright gorgeous. No one wonder all the boys mistook her brother for a girl. It was worse with makeup and proper hair styling.
"So what's the verdict?" he asked, nervous.
Rachel didn't say anything and instead uncovered the mirror for her brother to make his own opinion.
Callum stared for quite a long time, the only word out of his mouth was:
"Shit".
There was a gorgeous girl staring back at him. If he didn't know it was him, he would have asked her out. A strange feeling surged through him. Something foreign and unexpected. Sure, he used to play "girl" at the lake but that was for laughs. He usually just wore one of his sister's shirts and a pair of her shorts. It was easy enough to mess with. Sitting here now though, in front of Rachel's vanity, it was hard not to see the hottie he had become.
"Here, walk in these" she said, handing him a pair of white sandals with a one inch heel.
"I'll break my neck!"
"You'll be fine, I'm sure of it" she reassured him, knowing damn well her brother had this inborn grace that made her jealous at times.
Callum took the sandals with a sigh. Rachel had always been the dramatic one, but she had a point. He'd have to convince Mark's friends that he was a girl, and not just any girl, but the coolest, hottest girlfriend they'd ever seen. He slipped them on, standing awkwardly as Rachel laughed at his attempts to balance.
"Remember, heels are about confidence," Rachel instructed, holding onto his shoulders. "Walk like you own the place."
Callum took a tentative step and wobbled slightly, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Rachel's laughter didn't help, but it did make him feel a little more at ease. They practiced for hours, Rachel guiding him through the art of walking, talking, and even sitting like a girl. He had to admit, it was weirdly liberating.
"Remember to sway your hips," Rachel instructed, mimicking the motion. "It's all about the sass."
Callum rolled his eyes but did as he was told, taking exaggerated steps back and forth in Rachel's room. His long blonde hair cascading down his back in loose waves, thanks to Rachel's styling efforts. They'd spent hours watching YouTube tutorials on contouring and walking in heels, and to his surprise, he wasn't half bad at it. The dress swished around his legs as he practiced, the fabric soft against his skin. There was barely any hair on his legs and what little was there, Rachel promised to show him how to get rid of it later.
After a few more attempts, Rachel nodded in approval. "You're a natural," she said, smothering a giggle.
Callum's cheeks flushed as he stepped out of the sandals and sank into the carpet with relief. Rachel took notes on her phone, listing all the supplies she would need for his transformation: the perfect shade of lipstick to complement his naturally flushed cheeks, fake eyelashes that would make his eyes pop, and a push-up bra that would give him the right curves without being too obvious. She had a knack for detail and wasn't going to let this opportunity to shine slide.
The next day, Rachel returned from her shopping spree with a bag full of goodies. They spent hours trying on different outfits, applying and reapplying makeup, and watching YouTube tutorials. Rachel's expert hand painted his face into something that was both familiar and foreign, a blend of the Callum he knew and the Callie he was about to become. She had a surprisingly steady hand for someone who had only ever painted scenery before, and she took her role as fairy godmother very seriously.
The moment of truth came when Rachel pulled out the fake breasts. Callum had seen them online, the kind that stick on and look surprisingly real if done right. He was nervous but Rachel's confidence was contagious. She showed him how to apply them, smoothing the adhesive on his chest and carefully placing the pads. He watched in amazement as his flat chest transformed into something with actual curves. Rachel stepped back and nodded with satisfaction. "Perfect," she said, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Now, let's see how well you can tango."
"These come off right?" he asked, looking at his new naked "breasts" in her mirror.
He was even covering them like a real girl, she noticed.
"I have the remover right here" she said, waving the little bottle in front of his face.
Callum took a deep breath and tried to ignore the weird feeling of the padding against his chest. Rachel had done a pretty good job, he had to admit. He'd never felt so... feminine before.
For the next couple of days, Rachel had him practice everything: how to apply makeup that looked like he wasn't wearing any, how to sit without his posture giving him away, and even how to laugh delicately without it sounding forced. They practiced different scenarios, like ordering food at a restaurant and even flirting with a cashier. Rachel was a harsh critic, but her feedback was helpful. Callum felt like he was learning a new language, one filled with subtle gestures and demure glances.
He was surprised at how comfortable he was in his new role. It was like slipping into a well-worn pair of shoes. He enjoyed the way the dresses swished around him, the way the makeup highlighted his features. Rachel had convinced him to shave his legs and underarms, which was weird but surprisingly not as bad as he thought it would be. He had to admit, he liked the way it felt, the smoothness of his skin under the fabric of his sister's old dresses.
Rachel was thrilled with his progress. "You're going to break hearts," she said with a grin. Callum rolled his eyes but couldn't help feeling a bit smug.
Like she thought, he was a natural. It made her wonder if she had a brother at all and if he was ever coming back.
When the weekend arrived, Rachel decided it was time to really test her new "sister". She tossed some clothes at Callum while he was sitting in his room, playing another one of his games.
"Get dressed, sis, we're going to the mall" she said and left before he could protest.
Callum was flabbergasted. When he looked at the outfit she had thrown at him, he was nervous. Rachel had gone all out, giving himself overly girly on purpose. There was even a bra and underwear. When they told their mother what they were planning a couple of days ago, she wasn't over the moon but she often let her kids do their own thing. She did make him wear the breast forms around the house though so he could get used to them.
"If you're gonna be serious" she had told him "do it right"
He put on a pair of tight, skinny jeans and a crop top, which Rachel had assured him would "highlight his waistline" and his "womanly curves". He looked at himself in the mirror, feeling both ridiculous and surprisingly good. Rachel had picked out a pair of ballet flats, which were surprisingly comfortable, and a light sweater to keep him warm in the brisk December air.
They drove to the mall in silence, he was too nervous to speak. That nervously instantly evaporated as soon as they got there though. It was like a switch was flipped and someone new was born out of Callum. Rachel watched in stunned amusement as "Callie" took over, becoming the confident, sexy heartbreaker she created.
"Walk with confidence," she whispered at him, "but don't overdo it. You're a cool girl, not a pageant queen."
Callum kept telling himself over and over again that he was a girl named Callie.
Callie was a head turner.
At the mall, Callum felt the eyes of every guy follow him as Rachel paraded him around, a proud coach with her star pupil. He felt a mix of fear and excitement, his heart racing every time someone looked his way. Rachel had taught him well; he had the sway of his hips down pat and his makeup was flawless, a light touch that made his cheekbones pop and his eyes look mysterious. Rachel had even picked out some light blush that made his cheeks look like they were glowing from within.
As they strolled through the crowded mall, Rachel pointed out boys she thought were checking him out. Callum couldn't help but feel a thrill run down his spine every time. It was like he was invisible to them as Callum but as Callie, they couldn't get enough. It was a strange power trip and he was riding it.
They stopped by the food court and Rachel pointed at a group of guys sitting at a table. "Those are the ones," she whispered. "Pretend to trip and fall by their table. It's classic damsel in distress shit."
Callum rolled his eyes but did as he was told, stumbling slightly and letting out a dramatic gasp as he "fell" towards the group. One of the guys jumped up to catch him, his eyes wide with shock and...was that interest?
Thankfully Callum didn't know him, so he didn't go to his school. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he was caught by someone he knew. Rachel had thought of that though and they had gone to the mall two towns over just in case.
The guy helped Callie to her feet, his hands lingering just a bit longer than necessary. Rachel smirked as she saw the blush creeping up Callie's neck. "Thanks," Callie murmured sweetly, flashing a smile that could melt ice. Rachel had taught him well.
They got their food and sat down at a nearby table, Rachel watching the scene unfold with glee. She had always loved a good performance, and this was Oscar-worthy. Callie sat with poise, her legs crossed just so, sipping on a strawberry smoothie like it was the nectar of the gods. Rachel had picked out the drink to match her new persona, a sweet and slightly tart concoction that seemed to fit her brother's new identity perfectly.
She marveled at the Frankenstein Monster she had created. Mark was in deep trouble because there was no way in hell that he'd be able to handle her new "sister" for long.
After lunch in the food court, it was time for their true purpose---dress shopping. Rachel had a specific place in mind it, a boutique that specialized in prom and pageant gowns. It was a place she had always dreamed of going, but had never had the occasion to. Now, it was Callum's turn to play dress up.
They sifted through racks of dresses, Rachel holding up one after another, critiquing each with a sharp eye. "Too flashy," she said of one, "too plain" of another. Callum felt like a doll being dressed up for a playdate.
The blue dress caught Callie's eye almost immediately, but Rachel made him try on a dozen others first. Each one felt wrong, either too tight or too loose, too bright or too dark. But when he finally slipped into the blue one, something clicked. The soft fabric hugged his body in all the right places, accentuating his newfound curves without being overly revealing. The color brought out the blue in his eyes, making them sparkle like the stars in the winter night sky. Rachel's eyes lit up like Christmas lights.
"This is it," Rachel declared, her hands clasped together in excitement. "You look amazing!"
Callie looked at himself in the mirror, the blue dress wrapping around his figure like a second skin. The color brought out the cool tones in his eyes and made his skin glow. It had a sweetheart neckline that showed just enough of his newly discovered cleavage, and the skirt fell to just above his knees, flirty and playful. The material was soft, like a warm embrace, and the way it hugged his waist made him feel...feminine. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant.
Rachel took charge of the situation, spinning Callie around so he could see the dress from every angle. "Walk for me," she instructed, her voice firm but encouraging. Callie took a step, his legs unsteady in the heels Rachel had convinced him to wear. With each step, the dress swayed gently, the fabric whispering against his legs. Rachel nodded approvingly. "You're a natural."
They bought the dress, along with a pair of matching heels that Rachel swore were "absolutely necessary for the full effect". Callum couldn't argue with the results; the shoes made him feel taller and somehow more... Callie. Rachel had picked out a pair of earrings that dangled just right, catching the light with every movement of his head.
"You're going to make Mark wish you were a girl for real" she said, giving Callum a gentle hug.
Callum chuckled nervously. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
But Rachel's words echoed in his mind as they left the store, the bag with the dress swinging from her hand. Was it possible that Mark could actually be attracted to him... as Callie? The thought made his stomach flip-flop. He pushed it aside. This was just a prank, a way to help his best friend out of a bind.
The days leading up to the dance were a whirlwind of practice and preparation. Rachel was relentless, pushing Callum to become Callie in every way possible. They spent hours watching rom-coms, studying the way female characters interacted with their love interests. Callum found himself mimicking their gestures, their laughs, even the way they held their hands. Rachel had him practice flirting in the mirror, batting his eyelashes and pouting his lips. He had to admit, it was weirdly fun.
Callum's transformation was more than just physical; Rachel made sure he was mentally ready for the role. They discussed what kind of girl Callie was: bubbly, shy, or sassy? They settled on a mix of all three, a girl who could hold her own but also knew when to play coy. Rachel had him practice his voice, adding a slight lilt to make it sound more feminine. He was surprised at how easily it came to him.
By the time of the dance, it was hard to tell he was a boy at all.
They left for Mark's town a day early to avoid any last-minute mishaps. The eight-hour drive was tense but Rachel made it more bearable with her playlist of cheesy pop songs and her unflagging energy. Callum sat in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the hem of his skirt. Rachel had insisted on dressing him in full Callie gear for the trip, saying it was all part of the experience.
The roadside motel they stopped at was a dive, but it had a neon "Vacancy" sign and it was too late to find anything better. The clerk at the front desk looked them up and down, his eyes lingering on Callie's cleavage before he handed them the key. Rachel shot Callum a look that said, "See, you're totally convincing." Callum felt a mix of fear and exhilaration at the thought of being seen as a girl by a complete stranger.
The room was small and musty, with a single queen-sized bed that Rachel immediately claimed. Callum laid out his sleeping bag on the floor, feeling both relieved and slightly disappointed that Rachel hadn't made him share the bed as part of the "experience." They ordered takeout from a nearby diner, Rachel made sure he used his "Callie" voice on the phone so the clerk wouldn't catch on to their secret. The food was greasy and salty, but it tasted like a five-star meal after their long day of driving.
As they sat on their beds that night, they gossiped like sisters.
"So, how do you think Mark is going to react?" asked Rachel, hopeful that his reaction was one she was secretly expecting.
Callum had purposedly kept Mark in the dark about everything. Sure they still gamed but there was no more face timing. Mark clearly suspected something but didn't say a thing.
Callum shrugged off his sister's question, too nervous to respond.
They arrived in Deer Creek the next morning, the sleepy town still wrapped in the last tendrils of dawn. Rachel navigated the narrow streets with ease, having visited Mark numerous times before. The town looked like something out of a Hallmark movie, with its quaint little shops and decorated street lamps. Callum couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia; it had been years since he last set foot here, but the memories came flooding back.
They parked outside the teen hangout, a small coffee shop that had been a favorite of Mark's. Callum took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, Rachel's hand on his arm giving him a squeeze of reassurance. The bell above the door jingled as they entered, and the familiar scent of roasted beans filled the air. The place was almost empty, a few teenagers huddled in a corner, engrossed in their phones.
Mark was in one of the back booths with his friends, laughing at some joke, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. Callum felt his heart skip a beat as Rachel nudged him forward. In full Callie mode now, he sashayed over, his hips moving in a way that was both strange and surprisingly comfortable. He slid into the booth next to Mark, his skirt whispering against the vinyl seat. Before Mark could even look up, Callum wrapped his arms around him, giving a tight hug.
"Hey, baby," Callum cooed, dropping a kiss on Mark's cheek. Rachel had taught him to lean in, to make it look like a natural, loving gesture. Mark's eyes went wide with shock, his cheeks flushing as he realized it was Callum. But before he could say anything, Callum leaned back with a laugh.
"What the..." asked a dumbfounded Mark.
Callum was still laughing. "The look on your face, babe" he said in perfect girl voice. "Priceless"
He took on phone and snapped a pic, giggling.
Mark was visibly shocked but played along.
"Hi, Callie," Mark managed to say, his voice thick with astonishment. His friends' eyes widened in disbelief, some of them barely able to contain their laughter. Callum felt a rush of excitement at the successful deception, his heart racing as he maintained the charade. Rachel sat across from them, sipping her coffee and watching the scene with the proud smile of a puppet master.
One by one, Mark introduced Callie to his friends, the basketball team members who had been eagerly awaiting her arrival. Each greeting was met with a coy smile and a flutter of eyelashes, just as Rachel had taught him. The guys couldn't believe their eyes, and Callum felt a strange thrill at the way they ogled him, their expressions a mix of surprise and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. Rachel had been right; he had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
When Mark got to introducing Ben, Callum fought back the urge to punch the jerk.
"So the infamous Callie, so nice to meet you in person finally" he said, trying to sound suave.
Callie beamed back with a smile that could charm the birds from the trees. Rachel had taught him that the key to a good first impression was confidence and a touch of mystery. Ben took Callie's hand, his grip firm and a little too long. Callum felt his stomach twist in annoyance but kept the smile plastered on his face.
As they sat around sipping their drinks, the conversation flowed like a river in spring, fast and full of life. Callie listened intently, throwing in a giggle here and a playful elbow nudge there. Rachel sat back, watching with a smirk as the guys stumbled over their words, trying to impress the new "girl" in their midst.
Mark couldn't keep his eyes off Callie. He had seen him in a hundred different lights, but never like this. It was like looking at a painting that had suddenly come to life, a masterpiece of Rachel's making. He felt a strange tightening in his chest every time Callie leaned in to whisper something in his ear, his heart racing at the scent of Rachel's old perfume that now clung to his neck.
The rest of the basketball team couldn't help but stare, either. They were a bunch of high school jocks, used to ogling the popular girls in the hallways and at parties, but Callie was something different. Something...exciting. They weren't sure if it was the mystery of the situation or just the sheer audacity of the whole thing. Either way, they were hooked.
The group shifted from the coffee shop to the park.
At the park, Mark's friends tried to play it cool, but their eyes kept darting over to Callie, who was now sitting on the sidelines, watching them play with a bored expression that Rachel had practiced with him for hours. Rachel had taught him that playing hard to get was an art form, and he had to admit, it was working. Mark kept throwing glances at him, a mix of confusion and admiration playing on his face. It was like watching someone try to solve a Rubik's cube while riding a unicycle; you couldn't help but be impressed.
The guys played basketball, their usual routine, but the energy was different. They were showboating more than usual, trying to get Callie's attention. Rachel had packed a picnic lunch for them, something she said every proper girlfriend would do. Callie laid it out on a blanket, watching as the boys played their game. Rachel had even taught him how to watch sports without actually watching them, the art of appearing engaged without really caring.
Callie wasn't really keen on being "this" kind of girlfriend but according to his sister it was the best way to keep the other boys away from "her".
A break in the game saw Mark come wandering over, finally getting Callum alone.
"What the hell, dude?" he hissed.
"You like?" asked Callie, still in his girl voice. "Rach is a miracle worker, isn't she?"
Mark's mouth was still agape. "I had no idea," he finally managed to say, his voice still in shock. "This is... insane."
Callie just smirked. "You wanted a date to the dance, and now you've got one. Just remember to treat me right, or I might just leave you hanging," he said, batting his eyelashes and pouting.
Mark tried his best to keep his eyes on Callie's face but they diverted to his chest once or twice. "Where did you get the...its not..."
Callie rolled his eyes. "They're fake, doofus"
"But how..." Mark's voice trailed off as he tried to comprehend the reality before him.
Callie leaned in, whispering, "Rachel's got skills, remember?"
Mark nodded, still in disbelief. "I can't believe it. You really had me going there for a second."
"I can't believe you packed snacks" said Ben as he sauntered over, grabbing a sandwich. "Its freezing out here. Who the hell would want a picnic?"
Callie glared at him with all the spite of a thousand suns. Rachel had warned him about Ben. "Its called being considerate," he replied with a sweetness that could give someone diabetes. "Maybe try it some time?"
Ben burst into laughter. "She's something", he said before wandering back to the court.
Callum felt a strange thrill at the challenge. He was going to make Mark's friends eat their words. The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of playing the doting girlfriend. He cheered Mark on during the game, clapped when he scored, and even fetched water for the team. Rachel had taught him that the key to a successful ruse was to commit to the role, and Callum was giving it his all.
When Mark's team won, Callie threw his arms around him in a congratulatory hug, his chest pressing against Mark's in a way that made him feel...odd. Rachel's fake breasts felt heavy and unnatural, but also oddly satisfying. Mark's friends slapped Callie's back, welcoming him into their bro-circle. Mark's face was a mix of confusion and amusement.
As the afternoon sun began to dip, Callie announced that it was time to leave. Rachel had scheduled a full day of pampering and preparation for the dance. "Girls have to look their best," Rachel had told him with a knowing wink.
Mark and his friends watched as Rachel whisked Callie away, their jaws practically dragging on the ground. "See ya, babe," Callie called over his shoulder, blowing a kiss. The guys couldn't help but laugh, still in disbelief at the idea of Mark having such a "cool" girlfriend. Mark's mind was racing with questions, but he knew he'd have to wait until the dance to get answers.
The rest of the day was a blur of hair styling, makeup tutorials, and Rachel's relentless instructions. Callie sat patiently as Rachel painted on eyeliner and mascara, turning his lashes into dark fans that framed his eyes. Rachel had picked out a soft pink lipstick that matched Callie's cheeks perfectly, making him look like he'd just stepped out of a magazine. His hair was styled in loose waves that fell just past his shoulders, framing his face and giving him an air of innocence. Rachel had insisted on a manicure, too, the soft scent of strawberry nail polish filling the room.
Callie felt like he was being prepped for a royal ball, Rachel fussing over every detail. She had picked out a blue dress that matched Callie's eyes, the fabric shimmering with every movement. Rachel had even found a pair of earrings that looked like tiny snowflakes, which she claimed would "make his outfit pop." The shoes were the most daunting part, a pair of stiletto heels that Rachel swore would make him look like a million bucks. Callie had his doubts but trusted Rachel's fashion sense.
When the limo pulled up, Rachel gave him one final look over. "You're going to break hearts tonight," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Callie took a deep breath and stepped out into the crisp air, the skirt of his dress fluttering around his legs. He felt like a fraud, dressed in a costume he wasn't sure he wanted to wear. But Rachel's belief in him was like a shield, pushing him forward.
Mark came to the hotel room door and knocked gently. The look of surprise and wonder on his face when he saw Callie was enough to say it all.
"Wow" he said, flabbergasted.
Rachel smirked. "Now have her back home before midnight or else Cinderella turns back into a pumpkin"
Callie shot his laughing sister a look. She thought she was a comedian.
"Shall we?" asked Mark as Callie hooked "her" arm in his.
The limo ride to the dance was filled with awkward silence and nerves. Callie's heart raced in his chest, the heels clicking against the floor of the car with every little movement. Mark seemed lost in thought, his eyes never leaving Callie's for too long. The town of Deer Creek was decked out in lights, the Christmas spirit in full swing. The dance was being held in the high school gym, which had been transformed into a winter wonderland.
Mark led Callie in on his arm, all smiles.
Callie was all nerves.
He took a deep breath as the two of them stopped at the threshold.
"What's wrong?" asked Mark, confused.
Callie took a deep breath. "It just dawned on me. I guess I'm actually your Christmas date, huh?"
Mark laughed. "We can blow it off if you want, head back to my place, play some games?"
A small part of Callum wanted to say yes to Mark's plan but the rest of him---the Callie part---was totally against that.
"Nah" he said.
Then the two of them walked arm and arm into the dance.
The End For Now
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
He was tall but not tall enough to be noticed. He was all legs too but more importantly, he was flat as a board.
"Finley, I need your help!" his sister, Monica, called from the living room. Monica was a few years older and had just started beauty school. She often used him as a model for her projects. This time was no different.
He rolled his eyes and tightened the towel. "What is it now?"
"I've got an assignment for school, and you're my only hope," she said, poking her head around the corner. "It's for my makeup class, and I need a model for the 'before' and 'after' shots."
Finley sighed. He was used to this kind of treatment. Being the youngest of four with three older sisters had taught him to expect the unexpected, especially when it came to fashion and beauty. Over the years, he'd been the butt of their jokes, the recipient of their hand-me-downs, and the surprise model for their latest hair and makeup whims.
"Fine," he said, resigning himself to his fate. "But I want dinner out of this, and not fast food."
Monica grinned. "You got it. Now get dressed."
Finley took the time, drying off his long hair, making sure he squeezed all the water out of it. He didn't bother blow drying it because he knew Monica would want to style it as well.
He got dressed in an old t-shirt and skinny jeans. They were Monica's cast offs, old pants that no longer fit her - girls' jeans, but no one really noticed. If they did, they never said - not that it mattered to him, they were comfortable as hell!
"Come on, Finley," she said, knocking on the bathroom door. "You're taking too long."
Finley took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. Monica's eyes lit up when she saw him. "Perfect," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards her room. It was a typical teenage girl's lair, with posters of pop stars and actors plastered on the walls, makeup scattered on the dresser, and clothes thrown haphazardly across the bed. She sat him down in the chair in front of her vanity and began her transformation.
The first step was the makeup. She applied foundation that was a shade lighter than his own skin tone, blending it flawlessly. He felt his cheekbones become more prominent and his jawline softer. He watched in the mirror as she painted his eyebrows into a more feminine arch. Then came the eyeshadow, mascara, and eyeliner. With each stroke, his eyes grew larger, more defined. She took a step back to take a picture, the flash momentarily blinding him. He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his focus.
Next was the hair. She curled it into soft waves, framing his face like a halo of fire. He'd never seen his hair look so good, and for a moment, he was almost jealous of the girl in the mirror. But it was just makeup and hair, right? It wasn't like he was actually turning into a girl.
As she worked, Monica snapped picture after picture, her excitement palpable. Each click of the camera was like a metamorphosis happening in real-time. Finley couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, his cheeks flushing under the layers of makeup. He'd never really cared much about his looks before, but now that he was being transformed into something so... different, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. What would people say if they saw him like this?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Monica stepped back and announced, "Alright, you're done!" Finley looked up at her, his eyes wide with curiosity. The person staring back at him was indeed a girl, but it was not a stranger. Someone he'd seen in the mirror before, sure, but never quite like this. The makeup was subtle yet effective, highlighting his features in a way that made them appear more delicate, more feminine. His hair fell around his face in gentle waves that made him look like he'd just stepped out of a magazine.
The transformation was so complete that even Finley had to admit it was pretty convincing. He had always had a feminine face, and with Monica's expert handiwork, it was easy to see how someone could mistake him for a girl. The only giveaway was his lack of breasts, but with the right outfit and posture, he could pull it off.
Not that he wanted too of course.
"Not bad, you look great, little sis" she said with a playful wink.
"I'm not your little sister," Finley grunted, feeling the weight of the makeup on his skin. "Can I take this stuff off now?"
Monica rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "Not yet, I need to get some better lighting."
Finley sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Monica, seriously?"
"Come on, just five more minutes," she pleaded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The lighting in here is terrible. We'll go to the sunroom. It's perfect."
Finley grunted but followed, resigning himself to his fate. The sunroom was a small addition to the house, filled with plants and warmth that spilled in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The light was indeed better, casting a soft glow that made everything look more alive. He sat down on the wicker chair, feeling the cushions sink beneath him. This was his mother's favorite room, a place she liked to use to unwind after her long shifts at the hospital.
"Hold still," Monica said, fussing with his hair. "I just need to make sure it's all perfect for the pictures."
He rolled his eyes. "It was perfect already. Take your stupid photos. I gotta go to work soon"
"Just five more minutes," she promised, her eyes shimmering with excitement.
Monica finally got all the pictures she wanted.
"Alright, that's the last one," she said, her voice echoing with satisfaction. "We're done now"
"Good" he said with a sigh of satisfaction. "Get this gunk off me now".
Monica's phone rang a second later. She raised her hand, silencing him. He tried asking her again but she waved him off. He groaned. This is what happens when he agrees to help her. She was focused only when it was something she wanted but as soon as that was done, she became flighty and inattentive. Just like now. She wandered out of the sunroom, laughing to whoever was on the other end. Probably her fling of the week.
Great, he thought.
He considered calling Julie but she was probably in class. Trying to get ahold of Melissa would be even worse. So that meant he was stuck. Monica never taught him how to take it all off on his own. He cursed himself for not learning on his on, especially considering how many times they'd all done this to him over the years. Back then though, they always took it off him before anyone noticed.
He wanted to scream but realized he didn't have time to panic. Instead, he grabbed the nearest jacket and rushed out the door.
The heat of the day hit him like a wall as he stepped outside. He was already running late for work. Luckily his boss was pretty cool or else he'd be in deep shit. As bad as it was, he'd have to take the bus. He sprinted to the bus stop, his heart racing and his hair flapping in the wind. He arrived just in time to see the tail end of the bus disappearing around the corner.
"Shit" he cursed, knowing the next one would be about 20 minutes from now.
He dropped onto the bench and pulled out his phone. He started flipping through his phone, trying to occupy his time while he waited. Most of his social media feeds were dominated by his sisters---Monica with her fashion, Julie with her boy drama and Melissa with her kids---there was little room for other things. Except entertainment news. He didn't subscribe to it but it was always there. The latest was some kind of ongoing crap between that jackass actor Patrick Stark and his latest girlfriend. Again, nothing that concerned him.
Or so he thought.
"Excuse me, Miss" said a voice and he noticed someone standing in front of him.
Looking up, Finley found himself face to face with a cute Asian girl, probably early twenties. She looked overworked and timid, her eyes darting around nervously as if expecting someone to jump out and yell 'surprise'. She was dressed in an overpriced sweater and a pair of black leggings. The stark contrast between her and the fancy red sports car behind her was like comparing a daisy to a rose. The car screamed money and confidence while she whispered 'please don't trample me'.
Finley felt a strange mix of pity and curiosity as he took in her delicate features. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.
"I'm Chloe Park" she said as if introducing herself was the proper thing to do. "And my boss would like to talk to you".
She pointed to the sports car behind her. Finley sighed.
What the hell was this?
That car probably cost more than 10 times what he could make in his lifetime. Whoever was inside was probably bad news and he really wanted no part in it.
"I'm not interested in whatever you're selling" he said and meant it.
It had to be drugs, right? Especially in this shitty neighborhood. It was kind of bold of them to sell out in the open like this, in broad daylight.
The color seemingly drained from the scared woman's face. "Its not drugs...its...a business opportunity. Please, it will only take a few minutes."
Against his better judgement, Finley sighed and agreed to it.
"Fine, but make it quick."
Chloe's eyes lit up with relief, and she led Finley to the shiny red sports car. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy at the sight of it. The door creaked open, and as he stepped closer, the scent of leather and expensive cologne wafted out. The interior was pristine, not a single speck of dust marring the gleaming surfaces. Finley slid into the passenger seat, the heated leather seats a little off putting.
"Thank you, Miss Park," a familiar voice said, and Finley's heart skipped a beat.
He looked up to see Patrick Stark, the teen Hollywood heartthrob himself, leaning over the center console of the car. His grin was a mile wide, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. His trademark blonde hair slicked back, his award winning smile on display.
Finley knew that smile all too well. It adorned Monica's walls.
"Hey, I'm Patrick" said the actor, putting it on a little thick.
Finley sighed. "I know".
He wasn't really into all this crap. He'd seen a few of the guys movies but only because Monica played them whenever it was her turn at movie night. Stark was one of those dime a dozen guys. He'd probably be famous for a few more years before his good looks waned or he got caught up in one too many scandals. His newest one with Jessica Turner was probably the one that was going to kill his career.
Patrick was unfazed. "Do you have a name?"
Here we go. "Its Finley and no, I'm not telling you my last name or where I live. I've seen this movie."
Patrick chuckled. "I think I starred in that one".
Finley rolled his eyes. "You don't say."
"I like you, you don't give a shit about who I am, do you?" Patrick was mildly amused.
Finley shrugged. "Not my thing."
"Not into handsome hotties?" asked a still amused actor.
Finley laughed. "Not into dudes period".
Patrick was still unfazed. "One of those types. Well I can still work with it."
Work with it? What the hell was this all about?
Finley's eyes narrowed, his annoyance growing with each passing second. He was late for work, stuck in a fancy sports car with a celebrity, and still dressed like a girl. If he didn't get out of this soon, it was going to be a mess. "What do you want, Mr. Stark?"
Patrick leaned back in his seat, his grin never wavering. "Call me Patrick," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "But to answer your question, I need your help."
Finley raised an eyebrow. "My help?" He couldn't imagine what a Hollywood star would need from someone like him. "What for?"
Patrick leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "It's simple," he began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I need a favor. You see, I've got this image problem..." He paused dramatically, as if the very words were too heavy to be spoken aloud. "And I think you could be the solution."
Finley did not like where this was going. "You know I'm a..."
Patrick cut him off. "I don't care if you're a lesbian. Its all smoke and mirrors. You're cute, you have that girl next door kind of thing going on. Its what my publicist says I need right now. Someone to curb my image, get the tabloids to stop talking about me and Jessica".
So this is what all this was about. Finley just never thought things like this actually happened. The jackass needed a good PR and apparently a wholesome girl-next-door type to help him get it. Finley almost laughed if it wasn't so terrifying. This moron actually thought he was a girl. Looking in the rear view mirror, he could see where that mistake could have been made. But surely he at least sounded like a dude, right?
Finley groaned. "You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?"
Patrick laughed. "See, I didn't even have to explain it. Its just for a few weeks. Make a couple social appearances, Jess gets jealous and comes crawling back. Its a win win".
Finley scoffed. "For you maybe, it sounds like an embarrassing shit storm for me".
But then the amount dropped like a bombshell. "I'll pay you $200,000," Patrick said casually, as if that kind of money was something one threw around like loose change.
Finley's eyes widened. He couldn't have heard right. "What did you just say?"
Patrick leaned back, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Two hundred thousand dollars. For one week of playing the part of my girlfriend. What do you say?"
Finley felt his mind racing. That was more money than he'd ever seen in his life. With that kind of cash, he could finally get a car and not have to rely on public transportation anymore. Maybe even help his mom with bills or put some aside for college. It was a ludicrous proposal, but the amount was too tempting to ignore.
"Not enough" said the smug jerk. "How about this then. 250k to start and another 250k when the job is done?"
Finley was floored. The man just offered him a half a million dollars. Was he that desperate?
"Why me?" he asked, his voice shaking.
Patrick's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Because you're the perfect mix of innocence and mystery," he said. "You're that cute girl next door, you're a nobody and you don't like dudes so there's no messy entanglements"
Finley felt like he'd just been picked out of a lineup by a kidnapper for a role he didn't audition for. But the money was too good to pass up. Half a million dollars. For a week's work. It was insane. "And what happens after?"
Patrick shrugged. "We go about our lives. You get a story to tell for years to come. I get my girl back. Like I said, its a win win".
Finley took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling in his chest. He glanced out the window, watching as the world outside passed by, unchanged by the ludicrous turn his day had taken. A half a million dollars was nothing to sneeze at. He'd be set for life. But what was his life worth?
"Okay, you got yourself a deal," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "But only for a week. And no funny business."
Patrick's eyes lit up. "Great!" He leaned back in his seat, a look of relief flashing across his face. "You won't regret this, Finley."
Patrick rolled down the window and looked at Chloe still standing on the curb. "Start making the arrangements. I'm gonna drop her off to wherever she was going then I'll swing back around to grab you."
Before Chloe could respond, Patrick rolled up the window and peeled out of there.
The drive to the bookstore was uncomfortable to say the least. Finley sat in silence, his mind racing with questions. How did he get himself into this mess? Was he really going to go through with it?
As they pulled into the parking lot, Patrick leaned over and whispered, "Remember, the moment we step out of this car, you're my girlfriend. Act like it, okay?"
Finley nodded, his heart racing. This was it. The moment his life took a sharp left turn into the bizarre.
Finley took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was about to happen. He watched as Patrick turned off the engine and climbed out, his movements graceful despite his height.
As he opened the door to the bookstore, Finley's heart was racing. He stepped out of the car and felt the cool air hit his face. He knew he had to keep his head down, avoid any direct eye contact. But then, before he could even move away from the car, Patrick had his arm around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. Finley stiffened, his eyes wide with surprise. The smell of the actor's cologne was strong and the warmth from his body was surprisingly comforting.
"I'll see ya, babe" said Patrick, gently kissing him on the cheek.
Then he was gone, leaving Finley both stunned and embarrassed. A few people in the bookstore stared but no one said anything.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
That's all Finley could think about as he clocked in at the bookstore, his mind racing with the absurdity of the situation. He kept his head down and tried to ignore the occasional curious glance from his coworkers. It wasn't hard to see why they were looking at him; he'd never worn makeup to work before, and his hair was styled like he was about to walk a runway. But no one said anything, and for that, he was grateful.
The hours dragged on, each customer's question feeling like a pebble thrown into the pond of his anxiety. He managed to keep his cool, though, and by the time his shift ended, he was more than ready to go home.
When Finley finally walked through the front door, the smell of something delicious wafted through the air. His mother was at the stove, a wooden spoon in hand, and Monica was setting the table, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. It was rare to see his mother these days, especially with her busy shifts at the hospital.
"You're home early," she said, not looking up from the bubbling pot.
"You too" he said, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. "Slow day today?"
She chuckled. "Even a nurse is warranted some time off"
He hated that his mother worked so much. She was in her late fifties and was still a bit from retirement. His father died five years ago, leaving his Mom pretty much on her own to raise them all. Melissa was at college at the time, Julie was about to graduate high school, Monica was a couple years behind her. It all seemed too much for his Mom and yet she managed. She was one of the reasons he decided to take Patrick's deal. If he could anything to take the burden from her, he would.
But now, he had to tell her that he'd agreed to pretend to date some Hollywood heartthrob. She'd probably think he was insane.
"Mom, Monica," he began, his voice shaking. "I need to tell you guys something."
Monica looked over her shoulder, a spoonful of salad hovering in the air. "What's up?" she said, her tone light.
Finley took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "Remember the makeover?"
Monica stared at him, mouth open. "Oh shit, Fin. I completely forgot to remove the makeup!"
His mother chuckled. "I was wondering why he looked runway chic all of the sudden"
Finley groaned. "Well, Monica, your little experiment got a bit out of hand."
He recounted the entire bizarre encounter with Patrick Stark to his mother and sister, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Monica's eyes grew wider with every detail, and by the time he finished, she was practically bouncing in her chair.
"Oh my God, Finley!" she squealed, her voice reaching octaves he didn't know were humanly possible. "You're going to be a celebrity! This is going to be the best thing that's ever happened to us!"
He groaned and rolled his eyes. Of course, she would only think about herself in a time like this.
"Monica, could you give us a minute?" his mother asked, her voice calm and even. She knew her daughter too well to be surprised by her reaction.
Monica pouted but did as she was told, leaving the kitchen with a dramatic flourish.
"So, what do you think?" his mother asked, turning to face him fully. Her expression was one of genuine concern, her eyes searching his for any hint of doubt.
Finley sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, half a million dollars is a lot of money. It could change our lives."
She waved that off. "Putting aside the money, are you sure this is something you really want to do. There's a lot of exposure here, Fin. People are going to recognize you. It could get really messy? Are you sure you really want to do this?"
Finley felt his heart sink. His mother knew him too well. She knew that he was never one for the spotlight. He liked his quiet life, his quiet job, and his quiet friends. He liked being in the background, watching the world go by without bothering him too much. But the money... that was a game-changer. "I think this will help us Mom. We need this"
His mother gently grabbed his hand. "But is it something you need?"
He'd been asking himself that very same question all day and had come to only one conclusion. "I think I can do this, Mom".
Her gaze searched his face, looking for any signs of doubt. "Fin, are you sure?"
"Yes" he said with confidence and finality.
The silence that followed was thick with understanding. His mother knew him better than anyone else in the world. She knew his fears, his insecurities and she knew that he didn't like being the center of attention. But she also knew that he was a good kid, and that he wouldn't make a decision without considering the consequences.
"Okay," she finally said, her voice tight with concern. "But promise me you'll be careful."
He nodded. "I will."
As soon as he could, Finley retreated to his room and shut the door. The walls were plastered with posters of rock bands and action heroes, a stark contrast to the feminine makeover he was currently sporting. He collapsed on his bed, his thoughts racing. This was insane. He was going to pretend to date one of the most famous actors in the world. And all because of a simple makeover.
The phone on his nightstand buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. He picked it up, expecting it to be Melissa or maybe even a telemarketer. But the name on the screen made his heart skip a beat: Chloe Park. He took a deep breath and answered.
"Hey Finley," she said, her voice calm and professional. "How are you holding up?"
Finley lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I've had better days," he replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Look, I know this is weird," Chloe said gently. "But we're going to make it work. We're going to turn you into the perfect girlfriend."
"How does this work?" he asked, still not sure how they were going to do this.
Hell, they all still thought he was a girl.
"So this simple. You're a little rough around the edges, as is to be expected. We're going to buff those out. Patrick talked with Grace, his agent, she's made arrangements. We've rearranged the time table a bit. You and Patrick will not an official "out" couple until three weeks from now. In those three weeks leading up to your "debut" on his arm, we're going to put you through a crash course in everything you'll need. We'll call it Girly Boot Camp if you will." She paused as if taking a breath. "Then there will be the week of romance that you two initially agreed on, leading up to the premiere of Patrick's new movie. His hope is that Jessica will have come to her senses by then."
Finley bit his lip. "And if she doesn't?"
Chloe sighed. "Then there will be room to extend the contract."
"You mean more?" he asked, not sure he liked that.
"We'll make it official. Tomorrow morning, we'll send a car. Grace wants to meet with you, make everything official and legal. You're sixteen right? You'll need an adult present. I know your mother works at the hospital..."
He was floored. How much did they know about him already? Did they know his true gender too?
"I think I can get my sister Melissa, she's in law school..."
She wasn't quite a lawyer yet but she was getting close. She was interning at a firm though, maybe she could bring someone with her.
"Sanders and Vick" said Chloe a moment later. "We can easily arrange that".
He was not surprised that this woman knew where his sister interned.
Finley ended the call with Chloe feeling like he had just stepped off a roller coaster. His mind was racing with the gravity of the situation. This was real. He was going to be paid half a million dollars to pretend to date a Hollywood celebrity. His stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He couldn't believe it had all started with a simple makeover.
He sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts racing. The idea of a "Girly Boot Camp" was both absurd and terrifying. What did that even entail? Would they expect him to wear dresses and learn to apply makeup flawlessly? The thought of being coached on how to behave like a girlfriend made him want to laugh and scream at the same time.
The next morning, the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks as he walked into the gleaming offices of Sanders and Vick. Melissa was already there, dressed in her usual professional attire, looking like she belonged in a room full of suits. She gave him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back as they made their way to the conference room.
Grace was a sharp-looking woman with hair so blonde it was practically white. She had the kind of smile that could cut glass and make you bleed. Her lawyer, a stern man with a tie so tight it looked painful, didn't bother with pleasantries. They sat opposite each other, the contract in the middle of the table like a minefield waiting to be navigated.
"Finley" said Mark, the lawyer Melissa had brought along, "This is going to be a very straightforward contract. You're going to be paid half a million dollars for one week of public appearances with Mr. Stark. You'll be given a script to follow, a set of rules, and a wardrobe."
Grace interrupted. "Before we begin, I need to make it very clear that Mr. Cross's true gender will remain between those present. Especially from my client".
So she knew. Of course she had to know. It was clear these people had done a ton of research on him beforehand. He knew there was no way he could hide his gender from them. But did she say that Patrick didn't know? How exactly was that going to work?
Finley took a deep breath and spoke. "Look, I know this is weird, but I need to apologize for deceiving you. I never meant for any of this to happen."
Grace's expression softened. "Don't worry about it, Finley," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "This isn't your mess to clean up. It's all on Patrick." She leaned in, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "And between you and me, I think he's an absolute idiot for not being able to tell the difference between a boy and a girl."
There was some chuckles.
Melissa's grip on his hand tightened. "How will you protect my brother if and when his true gender does get out?"
There it was, his voice of reason. Melissa was the smart one in the family after all.
Grace nodded solemnly. "We have a strict non-disclosure agreement in place for everyone involved. Your true identity will be protected at all costs. We've had situations like this before, albeit not quite as... unique. But we know how to handle it."
What did that mean exactly? He was too afraid to ask.
Melissa looked like she wanted to ask more but Mark shook his head.
"Its fine, let's just get this over with" Finley murmured, his eyes scanning the document laid out in front of him. It was thick, with more clauses than he knew existed. The words blurred together, a mix of legal jargon and potential life changing decisions. But the number at the bottom was clear as day: $500,000.
Melissa leaned over, whispering in his ear. "You don't have to do this, you know. We can just walk away right now."
But the allure of the dollar amount was too strong. He signed the contract with a trembling hand, the ink feeling like it was sealing his fate. The room fell silent, the only sound the scratch of the pen on the paper. Finley couldn't help but feel like he'd just signed away a piece of himself.
After a round of handshakes and nods, Finley and Melissa stepped into the elevator, leaving the gleaming office behind. The ride down was quiet, the weight of the decision hanging heavily in the air.
When they stepped out into the bustling street, Finley felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. He was going to be pretending to be someone else for the sake of money and a celebrity's love life. It was like he'd stumbled into a reality TV show, except the stakes were real and the prize was life-altering.
They went home. Melissa said her good-byes and Finley hung around the house until lunch time.
The car that arrived at lunch was a sleek black sedan with tinted windows. The driver stepped out, impeccably dressed in a suit that made Finley feel like a slob in his t-shirt and jeans. "Miss Cross?" the man inquired, his voice smooth as silk. Finley nodded, his heart racing as he slid into the backseat. The interior was spotless, smelling faintly of leather and something sweet that he couldn't quite place.
As the car pulled away from the curb, Finley couldn't shake the feeling that he was living someone else's life. The world outside the window passed by in a blur of color and movement, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be on a movie set.
The car took him to a fancy hotel, not the place he was expecting.
"Here we are," the driver said, opening the door for him.
Finley stepped out into a world that felt like a different universe. The hotel lobby was grand and gleaming, with marble floors and a chandelier that looked like it was made from a million crystals. The air was cool and faintly scented with something floral, and the staff looked like they'd just stepped out of a magazine. He didn't even know there was a place like this in his home town. Hell he still wasn't even sure what Patrick had been doing in his nothing town.
As he made his way to the suite number Chloe had given him, his heart was racing. What was he going to say to this stylist? He'd never been into fashion, not even a little bit.
The door to the suite swung open before he could even knock, revealing a young woman with neon pink hair and enough piercings to make a pirate jealous. She wore a leather vest over a band tee that was a few sizes too small, showing off her toned stomach and the sleeve of tattoos that trailed down her arms. She looked like she'd just stepped off the set of a music video.
"Finley!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of enthusiasm and a hint of a British accent. "I've been waiting for you!"
Her eyes swept over him, taking in his baggy jeans and oversized t-shirt, the look on her face a blend of amusement and horror. "Oh, darling, we have so much work to do," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Bex, the stylist, wasted no time pulling him into the suite and shutting the door behind them. It was like stepping into a mini fashion boutique, with clothes and accessories scattered everywhere. Finley felt like a fish out of water.
"Alright, let's get started," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to dig through the racks of clothes. She held up a pair of leggings and a crop top. "This is a no-go," she said, tossing them aside. "We need to find you something that says 'girl next door' but with a bit of an edge. You know, the kind of girl that makes every boy's heart flutter, but also makes their moms love her."
Finley looked at her skeptically. "Is that even a look?"
"It can be with someone as fab as me" she said, taking a few pictures of him with her smartphone. "You've got a boyish figure, easily fixable" She winked. "Some padding, some falsies. Do you have a lot of hair on your body?"
He shook his head. "What does that have to..."
"Good, good" she said, rummaging about and handing a bag of things. "This is skin care, you'll need it. There's some Nair in there too. Gotta get rid of that hair. We'll wax if we have time. I think I've got everything I need for today. I'll have Frank take you home"
Finley felt like he'd just been handed a manual to a game he didn't know he'd signed up to play.
The next day, Bex whisked him away to a fancy salon. The kind where the chairs were more comfortable than his bed at home. The kind of place where the lights were so bright you could see every pimple on your face. And the kind of place where a woman named Delilah, who looked like she could bench press him, greeted him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"So you're the boy who thinks he can play girl" she said, her voice gruff and her hands already busy mixing something that smelled faintly of glue.
Finley sat in the salon chair, his heart racing. This was it. This was where the magic happened. Or rather, the madness. The woman, Delilah, was a makeup artist to the stars, according to Bex. He'd never felt so out of place in his life. The walls were a stark white and the lights were so bright he felt like he was in an interrogation room.
"What's the plan?" she asked Bex, looking for guidance.
"Boobs, hips and something down there" said Bex, pointing to between Finley's legs. "No one can know."
Delilah nodded. "When I'm done, no one will"
The process was strange, to say the least. The coldness of the glue was a shock to his system as she applied the fake breasts to his chest. They were surprisingly realistic, and Finley couldn't help but stare down at them as they took shape. Delilah was a master at her craft, working swiftly and surely, turning him into someone else entirely.
The hips were a bit more complicated. They had to be padded just right so that they looked natural. Too much and he'd be waddling around like a duck. Too little and he'd still look like a boy in a dress. She measured and cut pieces of foam with the precision of a sculptor, molding them to fit his body. The result was a surprisingly convincing curve that had Finley questioning his own reflection.
Then came the final piece of the puzzle: the genital concealer. It was a small, flesh-colored garment that he had to slip on under his clothes. It was a bit of a struggle, but eventually, he managed to get it on without too much trouble. It was tight and uncomfortable, but it did the job of hiding his most male characteristic.
Once everything was in place, Bex handed him a pair of panties and a matching bra. He took a deep breath and stepped into the back room to change, feeling like he was crossing a line he could never uncross. As he looked at himself in the mirror, the illusion was almost perfect. The padding gave him the appearance of having a modest but noticeable chest, and the panties smoothed out his hips. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
Bex smiled in approval and nodded.
The next three weeks were a whirlwind of lessons and transformations. Each day was a new battle in the war of becoming someone he wasn't. But Bex was a drill sergeant of femininity, pushing him to his limits and beyond. They started with his walk, his posture, his gestures. Finley learned to sway his hips and tilt his head just so, to make his movements seem more delicate and graceful. They practiced his speech, his laugh, his mannerisms. It was like he was being reprogrammed, every aspect of his being reconstructed into something softer, something more appealing to the male gaze.
Then came the clothes. Oh, the clothes. He was drowned in a sea of dresses and skirts, leggings and heels. He learned to navigate the treacherous waters of fashion, to pick out what would flatter his new figure and match Patrick's style. There were so many rules, so many dos and don'ts. He had to learn to sit like a lady, to stand like a lady, to eat like a lady. It was exhausting, but Bex was relentless. She taught him how to apply makeup so that he looked fresh-faced and innocent, yet somehow still alluring. How to do his hair so it fell in soft waves around his shoulders. How to dress so that he didn't look like he was trying too hard, but still looked like a million bucks.
Every day was a new challenge, a new lesson in being someone he wasn't. He had to learn how to handle himself in public, how to smile for the cameras without looking like he was about to throw up, how to laugh at Patrick's jokes even when they weren't funny. He had to learn to be someone else's girlfriend, someone else's arm candy. And it was hard, because deep down, he was still Finley Cross, the quiet boy who liked video games and pizza on a Friday night. But every time he looked in the mirror and saw the girl staring back at him, he knew he was getting closer to the prize.
The night before the big reveal, Finley lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was wearing the lingerie that Bex had picked out for him, the kind that made him feel sexy and young. But it wasn't just playing anymore. This was real. This was his life for the next week, maybe more if the plan worked out. He was going to walk a red carpet, be photographed by paparazzi, be talked about on talk shows and social media. He was going to be someone else.
He rolled over and checked his phone. There was a text from Patrick. "Can't wait to see you tomorrow. You're going to blow everyone away." Finley felt his stomach drop. He had been practicing his smile, his laugh, his everything. But he hadn't practiced what to do when he saw the man who had set this all into motion. What if he messed up? What if he forgot his lines?
The next day, Finley walked into the hotel suite where Patrick was waiting, his heart pounding in his chest. He was dressed in a little black dress that Bex had picked out, his hair styled into loose waves that framed his face. He had to admit, he looked pretty good.
Patrick's jaw dropped as he saw him. "Wow," he breathed, his eyes raking over Finley's new figure. "You're... you're stunning."
Finley felt his cheeks heat up under the layers of foundation. "Thanks," he murmured, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. It felt strange, almost alien, to hear himself talked about like that.
"You look nothing like the girl I met at the bus stop," Patrick said, his eyes still wide with amazement. "You look... incredible."
"Its all for show" he readily admitted. "I'm still that snarky doofus on the inside".
Patrick's smile grew wider. "But the outside is what counts," he said, taking a step closer. "You look like you just stepped out of a magazine."
"I am what you paid for" he admitted.
Patrick frowned. "Don't say it like, it sounds dirty".
Finley smirked, feeling oddly empowered in the situation. "What? It's true. You've turned me into a girl you'd actually date".
Patrick rolled his eyes but the compliment had hit home. "You do look good, fit for my arm".
Finley laughed nervously. "Well, I guess we'll see about that."
The car ride to the restaurant was a blur of butterflies and deep breaths. Finley had never felt so exposed in his life. The dress Bex had picked out for him was tight, showing off his new curves in a way that made him feel both powerful and vulnerable. The heels were a nightmare, but he managed to navigate the sidewalk with only a few wobbly steps.
As they entered the restaurant, a hush fell over the room. All eyes were on them. Finley could feel the weight of the stares, but he held his head high, channeling the confidence that Bex had drilled into him. This was it. Their first appearance as a couple. He glanced over at Patrick, who looked as cool as a cucumber, his hand resting comfortably on the small of Finley's back. He wondered how the heck the guy did it.
"Patrick, wherever did you find this darling young lady" asked one of the many reporters arranged to be present.
"Filming actually" he said almost as if he rehearsed it. "I wandered into this little book store and there she was"
"Love at first sight?" asked another reporter.
"Hardly" interjected Finley. "He wouldn't leave me alone. Imagine me getting hounded by a big Hollywood star".
"I wore her down" Patrick shot in before casting Finley a look for going off script.
As they walked toward their table, Patrick leaned in and whispered sharply. "They liked it but don't do that again"
Finley nodded, his heart racing. He knew he had to stick to the script. The meal was a blur of flashes and questions, a symphony of silverware clinking and laughter that felt forced. Yet somehow, Finley found himself slipping into the role more naturally than he expected. The food was exquisite, each bite a burst of flavor that was lost on his nerves. The dress clung to him like a second skin, the padding in his bra and underwear a constant reminder of the façade he was maintaining.
As the night grew late, Finley felt the first pang of necessity. He excused himself to the bathroom, his heels clicking on the marble floor. The Women's bathroom was as opulent as the rest of the restaurant, with plush velvet stalls and gleaming chrome fixtures. It was there that his heart skipped a beat as he saw Jessica Turner, Patrick's ex-girlfriend, standing at the mirror, her back to the door. She was flanked by a girl with a sharp jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him. Both had blonde hair and those blue eyes.
Finley froze, his hand hovering over the handle of the nearest stall. He'd seen pictures of Jessica, but seeing her in person was like getting punched in the gut. She was even more beautiful than he'd imagined, her hair cascading in soft waves down her back, her dress hugging her in all the right places. And here he was, a boy dressed as a girl, about to walk into her personal space.
But there was no turning back now. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the racing of his heart, and stepped into the bathroom. The sound of his heels echoed off the marble walls as he made his way to the counter. The girl noticed him first, her eyes narrowing as she took in his outfit, his makeup, everything. Jessica was too busy fixing her own makeup to look up.
Finley didn't interact with them until he was out of the stall after done his business.
"Hi, I'm Finley," he said, trying to keep his voice steady as he approached the sink. Jessica looked up from her reflection, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. She had a polite smile on her face, but there was a hint of curiosity in her gaze.
"Jessica," she said, her voice cool and composed. "And this is my friend, Dana."
Dana didn't bother hiding the fact she was checking Finley out. Her gaze lingered on his chest and hips, and she smirked as she held out her hand for a shake. "Nice to meet you, Finley."
Finley took her hand, feeling a jolt of something unidentifiable. She was beautiful in a way that was almost intimidating. Her eyes were a piercing shade of blue that seemed to bore into him, and her grip was firm, almost challenging.
Why did this happen to him? Here he found an amazing girl and he was now a girl too. Life wasn't fair.
But he had to keep it together. He was playing a role. A role that paid half a million dollars. He couldn't mess this up.
"So you're the new one" said Jessica, still doing her makeup.
"It would seem so" he said, trying to play it cool.
"Interesting" said Dana with a hint of a smile.
Jessica sighed. "I know what he's doing. Its cute actually. He thinks you're gonna make me jealous and make me go crawling back to him".
Finley shrugged. "Hey I'm just the pick up girl along for the ride"
"The bookstore right?" asked Dana, still staring.
Finley nodded. "That got around fast?"
"Well its suddenly big news" said Jessica with an eye roll.
"Yeah I guess it is" said Finley awkwardly.
"Well I don't know how he convinced you but good luck with that" said Jessica.
Finley nodded. "Thanks I guess". He left the bathroom feeling like he'd just dodged a bullet. He took a deep breath and walked back to their table. Patrick was talking to some other people but he broke away and saw Finley approaching.
"Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes searching Finley's face.
Finley nodded, his heart racing. "Yeah, just had to powder my nose," he said, taking his seat.
Jessica and Dana came by the table, taking seats without being asked. "Hello Pat" she said, smirking. "I just had a lovely chat with your Finley, lovely girl"
Patrick's face turned red. "Finley, this is Jessica, my... former girlfriend and her friend Dana"
Finley nodded awkwardly. "Yeah we've met in the bathroom"
Patrick's eyes snapped to Finley's face, a hint of irritation flashing through them. "Oh really?" he said, his voice tight.
But Finley was already turning his attention to Dana. "So, what do you do?" he asked, trying to ignore the tension that had settled over the table like a thick fog.
Dana leaned back in her chair, crossing one long leg over the other. "I'm a model," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "You work in a bookstore right? You still in high school?"
Yeah but its summer break" he said, feeling like an awkward idiot around a real pretty girl.
"Oh right. So what do you do for fun?" Dana asked, her eyes still assessing him.
He shrugged. "THere's not much around here...a bowling ally, roller skating"
Dana giggled. "Jess and I used to live for roller skating. You remember, Jess?"
"Yeah, we had some wild times," Jessica said, her eyes on Finley.
"We should go then!" jumped in Patrick. "The four of us, it could be fun!?"
Jessica was about to decline but Dana shot her a look. She knew that look. Her best friend wanted to get to know Finley better. She turned and looked at Finley, smiling. She was cute if a bit masculine. She supposed the girl was Dana's type but there was something about her, something...then it clicked. She saw it and smiled. She looked at Patrick. How could the idiot not see the obvious? She realized that Finley was pretty enough and while it was subtle, it was obvious too.
She smirked. This was too good. It was a gold mine but she wasn't a bitch. She'd let this one get out on its own. She couldn't wait to see Pat's face though.
"I suppose it could be fun" she finally admitted in response to the roller skating.
Fun for her to watch Patrick try to woo his Finley. It might also be fun to watch Dana snatch the poor thing away.
The restaurant date tracked well. It was good PR for Patrick. People were talking, especially his fans. They liked he was dating a "normal" girl.
Two days later, Finley found himself at the local roller rink, feeling like he'd been thrown back in time. The smell of stale popcorn and the sound of wheels on the polished floor brought back memories of his childhood, when things were simpler. He'd picked out an oversized sweatshirt and black leggings, hoping to blend in with the casual vibe of the place. But as he looked around, he realized that even here, in the heart of his own town, he was now the center of attention.
Jessica and Dana glided in, both of them in skin-tight jeans that showcased their toned figures and confidence. They looked like they'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine, while Finley felt like he'd just rolled out of bed. The contrast was stark, and it made him feel even more like the imposter he was.
But as the evening went on, something strange happened. Patrick, who was supposed to be playing the part of the lovesick boyfriend, couldn't keep his eyes off Jessica. He was trying to charm her, flirting shamelessly, while Finley felt like the third wheel on their very awkward date. Dana noticed the dynamic and took it upon herself to entertain Finley.
They skated in circles around the rink, laughing as they bumped into each other. Dana was surprisingly good, her movements fluid and graceful. Finley felt a spark of genuine joy, a rare feeling amidst the chaos of his masquerade. She showed him tricks, spun him around until he was dizzy, and even held his hand to keep him upright. The warmth of her touch was comforting, a small slice of normalcy in a world that had gone topsy-turvy.
As they took a break at the food court, Finley felt a strange camaraderie with Dana. She was the only one who seemed to see through the façade, the only one not playing along with the charade. They shared a large greasy pizza and talked about their lives, their dreams, and their fears. Finley found himself opening up to her in a way he never had with anyone before, sharing his love for video games and his hopes of going to college. Dana spoke of her modeling career, the glamour and the grind, her eyes shimmering with ambition.
"I miss the quiet too" she admitted. "Its been nice being in this town, hanging with Jess. With our busy careers, its so hard to connect and hang out like we used too".
Finley found it strange that Dana was a teenager like him but acted so much like an adult too. He definitely wasn't ready for that.
Neither of them noticed someone silently taking pictures.
The next day, the tabloids were ablaze with the headline "Trouble in Stark's Paradise?" Accompanying the article were several shots of Finley and Dana, laughing over a slice of pizza, their heads close together. The photographer had managed to capture the exact moment when Dana's hand had rested on Finley's knee, and the angle made it look intimate. Finley's heart sank as he read the article over breakfast, his mother's worried gaze on him. It was all over the internet, the whispers of a love triangle starting to form.
Patrick was livid. "What the hell were you thinking?" he spat when Finley walked into the hotel suite, his eyes glued to the article on his phone.
Finley sighed. "It was just pizza, Pat. We were just hanging out."
"The rags don't see it that way" he snapped. "You made me look like a fucking fool. What's worse, you did it with Dana Stevens, the lesbian It Girl. Look do your dyking on your own time, not when you work for me!"
Finley felt his cheeks burn with anger. "First of all, I'm not 'doing' anything with Dana. Second of all, she's not just 'the lesbian It Girl', she's a person with feelings and a name!"
"Look, finger her on your own time!" he raged and stormed off, leaving Finley alone with a flabbergasted Chloe.
Chloe sighed. "You like her?"
Finley couldn't deny it. "Its hard not too".
Chloe rubbed her temples. "Grace is probably flipping out..."
Her words were barely out before the phone in Finley's pocket buzzed. He pulled it out to see Grace's name flashing on the screen. "Speak of the devil..." He answered with a heavy sigh.
"Finley! What the hell was that?" Grace's voice was a shriek that could've shattered glass. "You're supposed to be playing a girlfriend, not cozying up with the enemy!"
"She's hardly the enemy" he said with a laugh.
"Well she is now" seethed Grace.
Finley's heart sank. "What do you mean?"
"You're supposed to be Patrick's girlfriend!" she snapped. "Not making friends with his ex's best friend, the lesbian best friend!"
"Dana's my friend too, you know!" Finley protested. "And she's not just 'the lesbian'. She's a person, and she's pretty cool."
Grace's voice remained sharp. "I don't care if she's the coolest person on the planet, Finley! You're on the job! The paparazzi are going to have a field day with this. You need to keep it professional, keep it tight, or this whole thing goes to hell in a handbasket! In other words, stay the hell away from Dana Stevens!"
Finley sighed, feeling a twinge of sadness at the thought of cutting Dana off. But he knew Grace was right. This was business, and he had a contract to uphold. "Okay, okay. I'll be more careful."
"Good. The premiere is three days away, we can't afford another scandal like this" said Grace, finally regaining her cool. "I'm gonna arrange a press release. You and Dana are just friends and nothing happened. Then you and Patrick will go out on a quiet date alone, without Dana and Jessica."
"Okay, okay I get it" said Finley with a nod.
Grace's press release had done its job. The storm of speculation had been downgraded to a drizzle. But the tension between Patrick and Finley was palpable. The "date night" arranged by Grace was anything but romantic. They went to a fancy French restaurant with candles flickering on every table, but Finley couldn't help but feel like he was on a stage, acting out a scene from a bad rom-com. Every gesture, every smile felt forced, and Patrick was definitely not making it easier. He was cold, distant, and barely said two words to him. Finley felt like he was being punished for something that wasn't his fault.
The date still tracked well.
When Finley arrived back at the hotel suite, Patrick was already gone, leaving a note that the next day's date was off. Grace called, her voice a whip crack of annoyance. "Patrick says he's too busy," she said through clenched teeth. "Do you know what this means for your contract?"
"It means he's neglecting our deal" I said, having read things thoroughly after all.
Grace sighed. "I'll try to keep him on track".
The next day, Finley was left to his own devices, feeling more like a forgotten prop than a paid participant in the charade. He wandered around the hotel, the opulence of the surroundings now feeling oppressive rather than exciting. He missed the simplicity of his life before this whole mess had started. He missed being just Finley, not 'the girl from the bookstore'.
That night, his phone rang. It was a number he didn't recognize, but something told him it was Dana. He answered tentatively, expecting another lecture about maintaining his cover. But instead, she sounded... friendly. "Hey Sexy, it's Dana. What's up?"
He was surprised. "Sexy?"
She laughed. "We both know its true. I've always had a thing for cute red heads. Who would have thunk I'd fall for the one with a little bit extra?"
So she did know. He wondered from the looks she gave him. "You didn't..."
"Your secret is safe with me." She paused. "Does Patrick know?"
Finley laughed. "He's about as bright as you'd expect."
He explained everything to her---from his sister's "makeover" to Patrick picking him up at a bus stop. Dana laughed at the idea of him trying to use Finley to make Jessica jealous.
"She's already moved on. The thing with her and Pat, it was never real. Another PR stunt. He thought it was real though. Kinda pathetic. The boy never once took a hint."
Finley couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Wait so he just spent all that money on me for nothing?"
She laughed. "Not nothing. He got some good PR again".
They talked well into the night. Nothing else mattered to him.
Then in the morning, the big scandal broke, i.e Patrick screwed up again.
Finley woke up to a symphony of buzzing phones. He grabbed his phone and the screen was filled with articles. "Patrick Stark's New Love Interest? Rockstar Melody Night!" It was a blur of images, but the one that stood out was Patrick with his arms wrapped around a young woman, her hair a wild mess of dark curls, her lips red and swollen, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. Finley felt his stomach drop. It was a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the game he was playing.
Grace called, her voice a mix of anger and panic. "Patrick's gone and done it again," she said through clenched teeth. "Some rock chick named Melody Night. He swears it was just a one-night stand, but she's not playing ball. She's telling everyone who'll listen that she's his new girl. And the press is eating it up."
So what did that mean for their deal....
Arrangements were made and Grace had Finley brought home. He'd been staying at Patrick's hotel to be close at hand but with the deal all in shambles, they decided it was better to get him away from Patrick. Their deal was still in place though, so Patrick was on the hook for the money he owed. There was some back and forth between his lawyer, Mark, and Grace's law firm. In the end, they had to pay.
Finley tried to ignore the buzz around the scandal. The TV and internet were alight with images of Patrick and Melody, their tangled limbs and kisses plastered across every tabloid. He was forgotten, a distant memory. His transformation back to his male self was as thorough as his transition into a female one. The clothes were packed away, the makeup removed, and the padding discarded. He looked in the mirror and felt a strange mix of relief and sadness. He was back to being just Finley Cross, the boy from the bus stop.
But the reality of his life didn't change with his appearance. The money from the deal was deposited into his account, but the weight of what he'd done hung over him like a dark cloud. The half a million dollars felt dirty, tainted by the lie he'd helped perpetuate. His mother tried to cheer him up, but her words fell on deaf ears.
Days turned into weeks, and the scandal with Melody Night faded from the headlines. Finley tried to go back to his old life, but the sting of his brief brush with fame lingered. He felt like he'd lost something vital, like a piece of himself had been chipped away. He missed the thrill of the ruse, the challenge of being someone else, and, more than anything, he missed her.
Not Dana. Though he really did miss her.
He missed being a girl.
The days passed by in a blur, the excitement of the past month feeling like a distant dream. Finley found himself back at the bookstore, restocking shelves and avoiding the customers' prying eyes. He'd become something of a local celebrity, known as "that kid who pretended to be a girl for Patrick Stark." The whispers and stares were constant, and while some were filled with admiration, others were tinged with disappointment.
A month later, the news broke that Grace had dropped Patrick as a client. His latest movie had tanked at the box office, and the public's interest in his tumultuous relationship with Melody Night had waned. The gossip rags were now labeling him a has-been, a tragic fall from grace for Hollywood's former golden boy.
The whispers grew louder, the rumors uncontrollable. Someone, it seemed, had spilled the beans about Finley's true identity. The story of the teen heartthrob's failed ploy to win back his ex-girlfriend with a fake girlfriend had become public knowledge. The irony of the situation was not lost on Finley as he served coffee to the same townsfolk who had once ogled his pictures in the tabloids.
"That's really you?" asked one of his classmates, Jake, who was at the bookstore getting his usual cup of coffee.
Finley looked at the picture of the pretty girl on Jake's phone screen and blushed. "You'd do it too if someone offered you five hundred grand" Finley admitted.
"No shit?" asked Jake's friend, Greg.
Finley nodded. Jake and Greg looked at him with a new found respect.
But just when Finley thought he'd managed to shake off the last remnants of his bizarre summer, Dana Stevens reappeared in his life like a mirage in a desert of boredom. He was in his room, lost in the pages of a book, when the sound of a knock at the door jolted him back to reality. His heart hammered in his chest as he slowly approached it. The last thing he expected to find on the other side was the girl who had seen through his charade, who had made him feel seen in a way no one else had.
"Heya Sexy" she said, smirking.
He was floored. "What are you doing here?"
Dana had disappeared right after the Melody scandal broke. She didn't run, she just had to go back to New York. They had said their messy good-byes but seeing as they were never truly dating, neither felt the other was responsible. But here she was again, standing in his bedroom, gorgeous as hell.
Dana smiled. "I met this amazing girl, she blew my mind. But she was pretending to date this dirt bag and..."
Finley sighed. "She wasn't real, Dana. We both know that."
Dana pushed into the room. She gently pushed him onto his bed, startling him. "We'll see about that" she cooed, climbing on top of him.
Their relationship started there.
A month after Patrick's downfall, Dana had become a regular in Finley's life. They'd hang out at the bookstore, or she'd come over to his place, often bringing her makeup bag. She'd sit behind him, her breath warm on his neck as she'd show him the art of makeup application. "You gotta blend, babe," she'd say, her hands deftly sweeping across his lids. "It's all about blending."
Finley had never felt more alive than when he was with Dana. The way she looked at him didn't make him feel like he was in a costume anymore. She saw him, all of him, and liked what she saw. They'd laugh about the absurdity of it all, the millions spent on a lie that had grown into something real. Their dates were simple, sometimes they'd just sit on the roof of his new truck and watch the stars. Other times, they'd sneak into the local diner and share a milkshake, causing gossip and stares.
Sometimes they were boyfriend and girlfriend on their dates. Other times, Finley would make an effort for her and they'd be two girls. It was always exciting and never dull.
He realized one night while they were kissing in his room---Dana gently squeezing one of his fake breasts---that this is what he'd been missing.
And when people asked, he told them he was a pick up girl that Dana had found in the bathroom and they had a good laugh about it all.
The End.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
He was supposed to pick up his girlfriend, Rachel, 15 minutes ago. Homecoming was fast approaching and as a cheerleader, Rachel was supposed to be at the school early to help decorate. He groaned, rushing as quickly as possible through his morning routine---quick shower, a rush on getting dressed, and out the door. The only breakfast he could muster were some cold Pop-Tarts.
As he pulled into Rachel's driveway, she was already waiting, arms crossed over her pink Cheer Life T-shirt. The early morning light painted the edges of her hair a fiery shade of gold. She didn't look up from her phone. "You're late," she said flatly, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice.
"I know, I know," Casey said, jumping out of the car and walking over to her. He tried to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, the scent of her strawberry shampoo teasing him. "I'm sorry. I got held up."
She scoffed. "You mean gaming until 2am, Jeremy ratted you out."
Jeremy was her twin brother and his best friend. Casey made a mental note to give Jeremy a piece of his mind.
"It's not like that," he protested, sliding into the driver's seat. Rachel tossed her bag into the backseat and slammed the passenger door. "It was just a quick match."
Well several that lasted hours but he wasn't about to tell her that. He knew exactly what she thought about his gaming. She hated it. She wanted him to quit it as soon as they started dating but he refused. He told her if he was to quit gaming, she was to quit cheerleading. She backed off but wasn't happy.
Her silence in the car was palpable. It hung in the air like a thick fog that even the warmth of the heater couldn't burn away. Casey tried to break the tension with small talk, asking about the decorations and the game tonight, but Rachel's responses were cold and curt.
"You never think my things are as important as yours" she finally said, her anger boiling over.
"That's not true!" he fired back.
"You hate cheerleading," she snapped. "I've heard you and Jeremy-"
He sighed. "I don't hate it, I just don't see the purpose of it."
She glared at him. That was apparently not the right thing to say. Thankfully, Rachel didn't say anything more. She just glared at him, he could see her anger building.
When they finally pulled up to the school, she refused his kiss again. She strutted away, her hips swaying in her tight, tiny shorts. He cursed.
He really screwed up this time.
The rest of the day, Rachel treated Casey like he was invisible. She didn't glance his way in the hallways, she didn't laugh at his jokes in math class, and she certainly didn't acknowledge his presence at lunch. Her clique of cheerleaders formed a protective bubble around her, leaving him to sit with Jeremy and their friends, who shot him sympathetic looks and shrugs. It was as if Rachel had flipped a switch, and he was no longer part of her world. The weight of his mistake pressed down on him like a heavy blanket, smothering any hope of a good day. Thankfully it was Monday, so he had two whole weeks to get back in her good graces before Homecoming next weekend.
But when the final bell rang and Casey rushed to his locker, eager to escape the suffocating school atmosphere, he was met with a shocking sight. A tornado of pink glitter erupted as he opened the metal door, showering him in a shimmering blast that made him sneeze and cough. He looked down and found a note at his feet. It was folded into a neat square with one corner sticking out, practically begging to be picked up. He bent over and plucked it off the ground, his eyes scanning the words scribbled in bubbly handwriting: "You need some perspective."
He coughed, confused, then tossed the note into the nearest trash can.
Nearby, Jeremy laughed. "The girls get you?" he asked, thinking it was probably just a prank.
Casey realized Jeremy didn't see the weird note, so he laughed. "Looks like it."
"We both know how my sister gets," Jeremy laughed. "Do some big romantic gesture and she'll be fine."
But Rachel didn't respond to any of his texts or calls that night. The silence was deafening. He threw his phone on the bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do. He knew Rachel was upset, but he didn't know how to make it right.
When Casey woke up the next morning, his head felt heavier than usual. He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. After splashing cold water on his face and brushing his teeth, he walked into his room and froze. There, on the floor by his desk, was a pair of white and blue pom-poms. Just like the ones Rachel used when she cheered. His heart skipped a beat. Was this Rachel's way of getting back at him? Or was it some weird prank?
He picked them up, feeling the soft fabric in his hands. They were definitely like Rachel's, the same ones she used on the field and at practice. He tossed them aside, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that had settled in his stomach. He had to get ready for school. Maybe Rachel had just left them there to remind him of the importance of her cheerleading. Or maybe it really was a prank.
At school that day, Rachel's cold shoulder was more apparent than ever. She didn't sit with him at lunch, and when he tried to catch her eye in the hallway, she looked right through him. The cheerleaders, however, were a different story. They kept casting glances his way, their laughter bubbling like a cauldron of secrets. He felt their eyes on him, a hundred whispers echoing around him. What did they know? What had Rachel told them?
As he sat at their usual table with Jeremy and the rest of their friends, the giggling grew louder, piercing through the cafeteria's din. The glances grew more frequent, each one loaded with mischief and glee. Casey's cheeks burned as he pretended to focus on his burger, his mind racing to figure out what Rachel had said or done. Was it the glitter bomb from the locker? Or had she told them about the argument? Or maybe they were behind the prank?
When he got home, the exhaustion of the day's tension hit him like a ton of bricks. He barely had the energy to eat dinner before retreating to his room. The pom-poms were still there, lying in the same spot he had tossed them. He picked them up, turning them over in his hands, trying to find some clue to their origin. But all they offered was a faint whiff of Rachel's sweet perfume. He threw them into his closet and collapsed onto his bed, the weight of the day finally pulling him under.
He slept like the dead, not stirring until his alarm jolted him back to reality at 6 AM. Groaning, he pushed himself out of bed and into the cold morning light. The pom-poms were forgotten as he stumbled through his morning routine, his mind racing with thoughts of Rachel and how to win her back. When he walked into his room to grab his school bag, his heart stopped. There, on his bedside table, sat a delicate hairbrush with a pink bow tied around the handle. It looked like it belonged in a fairy tale, not his man-cave of a room. He picked it up, his hand trembling slightly. Rachel had never been in his room before. This had to be a prank. A sick one, but a prank nonetheless.
The bristles felt soft, almost tickling his palm. He couldn't shake the feeling that Rachel had placed it there herself, but that was ridiculous. He had to be imagining things. He tossed it aside, trying to shrug off the weirdness as he left for school. The day dragged on, each hour heavier than the last. Rachel remained icy, not even bothering to acknowledge him. His mind was a tornado of doubt and confusion.
"Dude, you ok?" asked Jeremy, dropping into the chair next to him at their usual cafeteria table.
Casey grunted, running his hands through his hair. "I think your sister is fucking with me. She put pom-poms in my room yesterday morning and today, there was a pink hairbrush-"
Jeremy laughed. "Pomaggedon"
"What?" asked Casey, really confused.
Jeremy smirked and lowered his voice. "It’s what they call it anyway. It’s this stupid thing that Rachel and her cheer friends do. Remember when she was dating Chris Marshall last year?" Casey nodded, not sure where this was going. Jeremy continued, "They gloated about messing with him after they caught him kissing Alison Reese. They called it Pomaggedon, the cheer revenge."
Casey grimaced. "Great" he mumbled, then remembered something. "Hey, whatever happened to Chris anyway?"
Jeremy shrugged. "I heard he moved right after Rachel broke up with him."
Casey felt a chill run down his spine. Rachel had never talked about it, but he knew it was a big deal to her. A warning shot across his bow, maybe? He had to stop this before it went too far. He texted Rachel that night. "I'm sorry for not understanding. Can we talk?"
There was no response.
Casey went home with a heavy heart and a mind racing with scenarios, each more bizarre than the last. The hairbrush was still there, taunting him with its delicate presence amidst the clutter of his room. He tossed it into a drawer and climbed into bed, hoping that the new day would bring clarity and maybe even an end to the bizarre cheerleader pranks.
The next morning, the sun peeked through his blinds, casting a warm glow across his room. He sat up with a start, feeling like he hadn't slept at all. His eyes fell on the dresser mirror, and his heart skipped a beat. Reflected back at him was an unmistakable set of glossy white cheerleader's shoes, little pom-poms on the laces. "What the hell?" he murmured, sliding out of bed to inspect them.
The more shocking thing though was that his usual Nikes were gone. The only thing in the room was those damn white shoes.
He picked one up, turning it over in his hand. The soles were pristine, as if they had never been worn before. He sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. He had to get to school. He had no time for this shit. He slipped his feet into the shoes and was surprised to find that not only did they fit, but they were surprisingly comfortable. The shock of finding them on his feet washed over him again as he took a tentative step. They didn't feel like his usual sneakers; they were lighter, softer and felt like he was walking on a cloud.
At school, the whispers grew louder as he approached the cafeteria. He could feel the eyes on him, the glances, the smirks. Rachel and her cheer squad were sitting at their usual table, their laughter ringing out like a siren's call. He steeled himself, trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks, and made his way over to his spot with Jeremy and the guys.
"Looking fabulous today, Case!" Jeremy said with a grin, slapping him on the back. "You going for the whole cheerleader look?"
Casey felt his cheeks burn as he looked down at his feet. The white cheer shoes gleamed under the cafeteria's fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to his usual scuffed-up sneakers. "Very funny," he mumbled, trying to play it off. The guys around the table snickered, but it was the sound of Rachel's laughter that made him cringe.
"Oh, come on, Case," Jeremy said, slapping him on the back. "You've gotta admit it's a little bit funny." The cheerleaders at their nearby table had turned their full attention to him, their giggles escalating to full-blown laughter. Rachel's eyes sparkled with mischief as she took a sip of her drink, her glossed lips curling into a smug smile.
It all but confirmed what Jeremy told him, the girls were pranking him.
The next morning, Casey woke up to find a frilly pink headband on his pillow. He threw it across the room in frustration, but the feeling of soft fabric against his skin lingered. The next day there were a lot of things as the prank seemingly escalated: a sparkly phone case, a glittery notebook, even a tube of lip gloss in Rachel's favorite flavor. His space, once a bastion of boyish normalcy, was now a glittering shrine to all things girly and cheerleading. He was starting to feel like he was losing his mind, or his identity.
Saturday was no different. Casey stumbled out of bed, still half-asleep, expecting to find more cheer-themed paraphernalia. But as he opened his drawers to get dressed, his eyes widened in shock. His underwear drawer was filled with a rainbow of lacy panties and delicate, unfamiliar fabric. The sight was so jarring, he had to sit down on the bed to process it. His favorite boxers were replaced by a collection of dainty thongs and matching lace bras. He could feel his face heating up as he realized that Rachel had gone through his personal space and changed everything.
His T-shirt drawer was no better. Where his comfy tees once resided, there were now a sea of camisoles, peasant blouses, and crop tops. The material was soft and light, not at all what he was used to. He pulled out one of the crop tops, holding it up to his chest. It was definitely made for a girl's slender frame, not his. With a grimace, he tossed it back into the drawer and slammed it shut. He was not going to let this get to him. He had plans to go to the mall with the guys and he was going to stick to them. No way was he going to let Rachel, or anyone else, dictate his wardrobe.
But as he looked down at his outfit options, his stomach churned.
He was just happy that his gym clothes were still masculine and untouched. He pulled on a pair of black gym shorts and a loose white T-shirt, the last vestige of his usual attire. He tied his shoes with a little more force than necessary and stormed out of the house. He had to get out of there, to escape the glittery pink hellhole his room had become. He was going to the mall to meet Jeremy and the guys, and he had one thing on his mind: resupplying with clothes that didn't make him feel like he was auditioning for a part in a Bring It On sequel.
The mall was a beacon of normalcy amidst the chaos of his personal life. The smell of fast food wafted through the air, the sound of teenagers laughing and shouting bounced off the gleaming floors. He took a deep breath, letting the familiar scene wash over him. He found Jeremy and their friends hanging out at the food court, and the sight of their casual, non-cheerleader attire was a relief. He couldn't wait to tell them about his morning's discovery and get their take on the situation.
"Dude," he said as he approached, directing it at Jeremy. "Your sister is out of control now. I'm not sure how she's done it but she replaced every article of clothing in my room with a female equivalent."
Jeremy looked confused. "When did this happen?"
Casey shrugged. "No clue. It was fine last night. I woke up this morning and all of it was different."
"Case, Rachel was out of town last night. She went with my aunt to some concert. They spent the night in a hotel," said Jeremy, really confused.
"Then it was her damn friends!" snapped Casey, really annoyed. "This is all getting out of hand."
He pulled out his phone to text Rachel but there was no service. He cursed and shoved it back in his pocket.
As they cruised the mall, Casey's eyes darted towards the male clothing stores, his mind racing with thoughts of replenishing his wardrobe. But something strange began to happen. He found himself drifting away from the familiar sights of polo shirts and cargo shorts and instead, his feet carried him towards the teen girl shops. The racks of glittery tops and delicate lace caught his gaze, the bright colors and patterns pulling him in like a moth to a flame. He tried to shake it off, telling himself he was just looking to see what Rachel might like, but the lie felt thin and brittle, even to him.
At this point, he'd broken off from Jeremy and the guys. This often happened when they hit the old mall. It had an old arcade that his friends spent most of their time in. It was either there or the gaming store. When he mentioned he needed to clothes shop, they all but abandoned him. He was fine with it because he was done with their good natured teasing.
Each time he passed a clothing store aimed at girls, his feet would try to turn towards it. It was like he was fighting some invisible force, and for a moment he wondered if Rachel had put a spell on him or something. But that was stupid. Rachel didn't believe in that kind of stuff. Did she?
He walked by the first few, his eyes drawn to the sparkling tapestries of color and the delicate fabrics that fluttered in the air conditioning's breeze. The urge grew stronger, almost like a siren's call. He gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms, willing himself to keep walking. But his steps grew heavier, his resolve wavering like a candle flame in the wind.
"Don't do it," he murmured under his breath, his eyes flicking back and forth from boy store to girl and back again.
It was like there was a voice in the back of his head, urging him into those stores. He successfully fought it, though.
In the food court, he grabbed a burger and fries from the nearest fast-food joint, the greasy scent wafting through the air, mixing with the sugary sweetness of the cotton candy machine nearby. He found a table with a decent view of the area and sat down to wait for Jeremy and the guys. As he munched on a fry, his eyes fell on a group of teenagers from a rival school sitting a few tables over. They were laughing and joking, their school colors a stark contrast to the sea of blue and white that filled the mall in anticipation of the upcoming Homecoming game.
The voice in his head whispered, "They're so cute," and Casey's stomach did a flip-flop. He took a deep breath and forced his gaze away, focusing instead on the ketchup bottle in front of him. This wasn't right. He liked Rachel, not guys. But the voice grew louder, more insistent, and before he knew it, he was back to staring at the boys from the other school.
They were all dressed in their school's colors, joking and shoving each other playfully. The way their laughter echoed through the food court made his heart race in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He felt like he was watching a movie, like he was someone else entirely. One of the guys looked up and caught his eye, and for a moment, Casey felt like he'd been struck by lightning. The boy was lean and athletic, with short, messy hair and a mischievous smile that sent a shiver down Casey's spine.
The voice grew louder, whispering sweet nothings about the boys' physiques and the way they moved. He tried to ignore it, to shove it down and focus on his burger, but his eyes kept drifting back. And with each glance, the feeling grew stronger. It was like someone had flipped a switch in his brain, and now all he could think about were those guys and the way they made him feel. He felt his cheeks burning, his heart racing. What was happening to him?
A few of the guys looked his way, their eyes lingering for a moment too long. Casey felt a thrill run through him, his palms suddenly sweaty. He'd never felt like this before, not for a boy. He tried to convince himself it was just the prank, that Rachel had somehow gotten into his head and was messing with him. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. The voice was too real, too powerful. It was as if it had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to emerge.
The slamming of a tray on the table broke his thoughts, announcing the arrival of Jeremy. "You ok, dude?"
Casey grunted, "Those guys have no business on our turf"
Jeremy looked over and scoffed. "The mall is neutral ground," he joked.
Casey was glad for his friend's arrival. Whatever voice he heard, whatever he'd been feeling moments before, it was all gone.
They ate lunch with their usual laughing and messing around like most guys.
After finishing his meal, Casey stood up and announced, "Alright, I'm going to hit the stores, need to grab some clothes."
"You sure you don't want to hang with us?" asked Jeremy, eyeing the arcade longingly.
Casey nodded firmly. "Yeah, man. I really need to get this sorted out."
With a shrug, Jeremy handed him a twenty. "Here, buy something that doesn't make you look like you're trying out for the cheer team."
The guys chuckled, but Casey took the money gratefully. He needed to get his mind off the weird feelings that had taken over his body. He marched off towards the nearest clothing store, the mall's background music playing a strange symphony in his ears. His steps felt heavier with each passing storefront, the voice in his head growing quieter, almost as if it knew it had lost the battle for now.
Inside the store, the walls were lined with racks of clothes that smelled of new fabric and faintly of plastic. The lights were too bright, making everything seem surreal. He picked out a few basic tees and a couple pairs of jeans, trying to keep his gaze away from the more...girly options. But as he made his way to the checkout, his eyes snagged on a rack of hoodies. One in particular called to him, a soft pink number with a white lace trim that seemed to glow against the sea of blue and gray. He felt a strange longing to touch it, to feel the fabric against his skin. He swallowed hard and tore his eyes away, reminding himself of Rachel's prank, and paid for his purchases.
The drive home was a blur of thoughts and emotions. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been avoiding something all day, something important. As he pulled into the driveway, the house loomed in front of him like a silent sentinel, filled with the glittery evidence of Rachel's wrath. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the crunch of gravel underfoot reminding him of reality.
Once inside, Casey dropped the bags of new clothes onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He looked around the room, wondering if anything changed. There was nothing new but he kept looking at the closet where he knew those damn pom-poms were still lingering. He thought out of sight, out of mind.
He decided to take a shower to clear his head, the hot water cascading over his shoulders and down his back. The tension from the day began to ease away, and his mind drifted to Rachel. He missed her, and the silence was killing him. As the water ran down his body, he couldn't help but feel a little...different. He pushed the thought aside and focused on getting ready for bed.
That night, he had strange dreams. Rachel was in them, but not as he knew her. She was dressed in a sparkling cheerleader's uniform, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. She danced around him, her movements fluid and graceful, the pom-poms in her hands leaving a trail of glitter in her wake. The other cheerleaders were there too, their faces distorted into twisted smiles, their laughter echoing through the dreamscape like a chorus of sirens. They were all chanting his name, calling for him to join them. And as much as he tried to resist, the pull was too strong.
In the dream, he found himself in their midst, wearing the very same pink hoodie he'd seen in the mall. The fabric was soft against his skin, the lace tickling his neck as he moved. The voice from earlier grew louder, whispering sweet nothings about how perfect he looked, how much they wanted him. He felt a strange thrill, a mix of excitement and fear as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The guys from the rival school were there too, their eyes on him, their smiles inviting and yet predatory.
The cheerleaders danced closer, their movements hypnotic, and Rachel leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "You're one of us now," she whispered, her voice echoing through his mind like a siren's call. "You're a part of the squad."
There were more dreams, each one as weird as the last.
Sunday morning, Casey awoke with a jolt, his heart racing and his body feeling...different. He swung his legs out of bed, his toes touching the floor with a lightness that was unfamiliar. He stood and took a moment to look in the mirror, his reflection greeting him with a start. His muscles had softened, his body seemingly shedding the weight of his masculine identity like a snake slithering out of its skin. His skin was smoother than ever, and when he reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes, he found his hair had grown longer, brushing against the tops of his ears. It was as if the fabric of reality had warped around him, slowly turning him into someone, or something, else.
With trembling hands, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a torso that was once firm and toned, now giving way to a more feminine curve. He turned to the side, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of his newfound figure. His abs were gone, replaced by a gentle slope leading to his hips that had definitely widened overnight. His bed pants hung loose, emphasizing his smaller waist and the softness of his thighs. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This had to be a nightmare, a continuation of the bizarre dreams he'd had the night before.
He stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading down his new body. As the water hit his skin, it felt different, like it was caressing him in a way it never had before. He reached for the body wash, his hand pausing as he realized there was no hair on his chest, his abs, or anywhere else on his body. He'd always had a bit of chest hair, and the smoothness was surprising, almost...pleasurable. He couldn't help but run his hands over his now hairless body, the sensation foreign and exhilarating. It was as if the water itself was whispering to him, telling him that he was beautiful.
He finished washing and stepped out of the shower, the towel feeling soft and welcoming against his skin. Without thinking, he wrapped it around his chest, cinching it under his arms in a way that was definitely not how guys usually wore towels. He stared at his reflection in the foggy mirror, his eyes wide with confusion. The sight of his barely there body hair was so jarring that he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. The voice from the mall was back, whispering sweet nothings about his new look, telling him how good it was to be free from the constraints of male grooming norms.
As he dried off, he took stock of his new form. His hands felt smaller, his fingers more delicate. He turned them over, examining the way the light caught the newfound smoothness. His face had changed too, the angles softer, the stubble on his cheeks and chin all but gone. His hair, once a shaggy mess of dark waves, now hung past his ears, a few stray locks framing his face in a way that made him look...pretty. He didn't know what to make of it, his thoughts a whirlwind of panic and a weird, guilty excitement.
On auto-pilot, he made his way to his dresser, his eyes flicking to the bags of clothes he'd bought the day before. But something stopped him. Instead, he reached for the drawer that had once held his boxers and socks. His hand hovered over the lacy underwear, a thrill running through him as he thought of putting them on. He didn't know why, but the idea didn't repulse him. It was as if his body knew what it wanted, even if his mind hadn't caught up. He picked out a pair of panties that were the palest shade of pink, the lace feeling like a whisper against his fingertips. He stepped into them, feeling the softness embrace him, the fabric hugging his new curves in a way that was both terrifying and...right.
The bra was a bit more of a challenge. He'd never put one on before, but the voice in his head whispered instructions, guiding him through the process. It was surprisingly easy, the cups fitting snugly around his now smaller, more sensitive chest. He pulled a white midriff tee from the drawer and slipped it on, the material feeling like a second skin against his bare torso. The way the hem sat just above his navel made him feel...cute. It was a word that had never crossed his mind to describe himself, but here he was, standing in front of the mirror with a half-smile playing on his lips, thinking he looked good.
He pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants with delicate pink drawstrings that apparently had replaced his old gym shorts. They were snug around his new hips, but somehow, they felt right. He tugged them up and tied the strings into a neat bow, the soft fabric caressing his skin. The pants were definitely more comfortable than his usual jeans, and the way they hugged his now more feminine figure made him feel...desirable? The voice in his head certainly seemed to think so, whispering sweet nothings about how good he looked in them.
With a shake of his head, Casey tried to banish the thoughts and focus on the task at hand: fixing his hair. He'd always kept it short, a simple, easy-to-maintain style that suited his active lifestyle. But now, as he ran his fingers through the longer, softer strands, he realized he had no idea what to do with it. Rachel had always teased him about his hair, saying he'd never appreciate the effort it took to maintain her own long locks. He'd always rolled his eyes, but now he was the one with hair that needed styling.
On the dresser, next to the lip gloss from the other day, sat a set of hair clips and barrettes. He picked one up, a small pink butterfly, and studied it in the mirror. It was ridiculous, really. But something in his chest fluttered at the sight, a strange excitement bubbling up inside him. With trembling hands, he pulled his hair back on one side, using the clip to hold it in place. It was a simple look, but it was...girly. He felt a thrill run down his spine as he repeated the process on the other side, his hair now framing his face in a way that was definitely not how guys typically wore it.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He was still Casey, right? Just a little...different. He grabbed a hairbrush, the same one Rachel had left in his room, and began to run it through his hair. The bristles felt good against his scalp, and as he brushed, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. His hair had always been a bit of a mess, but now, with the barrettes holding it back, it looked...neat. Feminine.
All of this was both scary and exciting.
Casey walked downstairs to the kitchen, the smell of pancakes and syrup wafting through the air. His mother, Janice, was standing at the stove, flipping a perfect golden disk of dough. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Good morning, sweetie," she said, her voice cheerful. "You're up early."
"Yeah," he mumbled, sliding into his usual seat at the table. "Weird dreams."
Janice turned from the stove, a plate of pancakes in hand. "Well, you look like you could use a good breakfast to start the day off right." She set the plate down in front of him, the pancakes steaming and smelling like heaven. She looked him over, her eyes lingering on the pink barrettes and the soft pink hue to his cheeks that the shower had brought out. "You know, Casey, I think you look rather...refreshed today," she said with a knowing smile.
Casey felt a strange sense of pride swell in his chest. His mother had always had a knack for making him feel better about himself, even when he'd felt like a complete mess. And now, with his new look, she was still there, supporting him. He managed a small smile, taking a bite of the syrup-drenched pancake. It was sweet and comforting, a familiar taste in a world that was suddenly anything but.
As he ate, the lightness in his body grew stronger. It was as if the very essence of who he'd been was being washed away, replaced by something softer, more graceful. He found himself sitting with better posture, his legs crossed at the ankles, his elbows off the table. It was like his body was remembering a way of being that it hadn't known for a very long time. The voice in his head was quieter now, but it was still there, a gentle guide as he navigated the uncharted waters of his new reality.
After breakfast, Casey went outside to get the newspaper, the cool autumn air kissing his skin with a tenderness that was both surprising and delightful. The way the sun hit his hair, the way the fabric of his shirt clung to his new body, it was all so...different. He couldn't help but twirl around on the porch, the world spinning in a dizzying dance of color and light. He felt like a leaf on the wind, and for the first time in his life, that didn't scare him.
He spent the rest of the day in a daze, his movements more fluid than ever before. The way he sat, the way he talked, even the way he walked had changed. His steps were lighter, his stride more graceful. It was as if his entire body had been rewired, tuned to a frequency that resonated with something deep within him. He found himself noticing the little things that girls often did, the way they'd tuck their hair behind their ear or flick their wrists just so. And as he mimicked these actions, he felt a strange sort of kinship with them, a bond that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
On Monday, he went to school wearing a hoodie that his older brother left behind after he went to college.
But even under the bulky fabric, the growing bumps on his chest were unmistakable. He'd found them that morning, two small mounds that hadn't been there before. Panic had set in, his heart racing as he'd felt his body betraying him in the most fundamental of ways. He'd tried to ignore them, telling himself it was all just a part of Rachel's prank, a cruel trick played by someone who'd gone too far. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. His hair was at his shoulders now too but the hood thankfully hid that.
At school, the whispers began almost immediately. He felt eyes on him as he walked down the hallway, the stares and glances more pronounced than ever before. His classmates looked at him differently, their expressions a mix of confusion and something...else. He tried to tell himself it was all in his head, that he was just being paranoid. But as he passed Rachel and her squad, their smirks were unmistakable. They knew. He wasn't sure how but they definitely knew.
The bumps on his chest grew more prominent with each passing hour, and it was all he could do to keep the hoodie tightly zipped. He'd hoped that the loose fabric would hide his newfound curves, but the whispers grew louder, the stares more pointed. The skinny jeans had been a gamble, but they were the closest thing he had to a disguise. They hugged his new form in a way that made him feel both vulnerable and strangely powerful. The way they accentuated his now-rounded hips and slender legs was unnerving, but he couldn't deny the strange thrill it brought him.
But it was Jeremy's gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. His best friend looked at him differently, his eyes lingering a beat too long, a hint of curiosity and something...more. It was as if Jeremy could see through the layers of fabric and the thick shell of denial that Casey had wrapped himself in. He couldn't decide if it was comforting or terrifying, but the way Jeremy's eyes lit up when they met his, the way his lips curled into a friendly smile, made his heart race.
"You ok, Cas?" he asked, giving his friend a long look.
"Never better" said Casey, hoping he was able to make his voice sound like it used to.
Jeremy's eyes searched his face, looking for the truth hidden beneath the mask of bravado. "You sure, man?" His voice was low, concerned, and it was all Casey could do to keep his cool.
"Yeah, I'm good," Casey lied, his voice shaking slightly. "Just...going through some stuff."
Jeremy nodded, his gaze never leaving Casey's face. "Alright, but you know you can talk to me, right?"
Casey managed a nod, his throat tight. "Thanks, Jer. I'll be fine." He couldn't tell his best friend the truth, not yet. Not when he didn't even know what was happening to him.
The rest of the school day dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. His mind was a whirlwind of questions and fears, but he kept his head down, trying to blend into the background. The whispers and stares were like a constant soundtrack, a reminder that he was no longer the same person he'd been just a week ago.
As the final bell rang, Casey's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his heart racing as he saw Rachel's name on the screen. The text was simple, yet it sent a bolt of electricity through him: "Looking good girl. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning to talk." His eyes widened in shock and anger.
Tuesday morning brought even more surprises. When Casey looked in the mirror, the reflection was unmistakably feminine. The voice in his head had grown more insistent, whispering that this was who he was meant to be. He tried to ignore it as he got dressed, but it was hard to now. He pulled on a pair of panties, feeling the way they hugged his new curves, and realized the tiny bulge in front was all that was left of his manhood. His body was fully embracing the transformation, and there was no hiding it now.
The once male space of his room had been transformed overnight into a sanctuary of frills and pastels. The bed was covered in a pink comforter, and the walls were plastered with posters of boy bands and rom-coms. The sight was jarring, but a part of him couldn't help but feel a strange comfort in the new decor. He chose a pair of skinny jeans and a loose top, his much larger chest on full display now. There was no hiding it now.
Rachel honked from outside, and he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He stepped out of the house, his legs feeling longer, his hips swinging in a way they never had before. Rachel's car was parked at the curb, and she was leaning against it, her arms folded across her chest, a smug smile playing on her lips. She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on his new figure. "Looking good, girl," she called out, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
He approached the car, his heart racing in his chest. Rachel looked stunning as always, her blonde hair in a high ponytail that bobbed as she moved. She was wearing a short skirt and a crop top that left little to the imagination, her cheerleader outfit from hell. "Hop in," she said, her tone light and airy. "We've got a lot to talk about."
Casey slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool against his skin. Rachel leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, her breath smelling of mint. "You look fantastic," she said, her smile growing wider. "I never knew you had it in you to rock a look like this."
Her eyes swept over his new form, lingering on the long, flowing hair that now cascaded down his back. "Your hair looks amazing," she said, reaching over to playfully flick it. "It's like you're finally letting your true self shine."
"How have you done this?" he asked, surprised but not surprised by the sound of his new voice.
"You know how but you're just too afraid to say it," she said playfully as she drove.
He knew. "Magic is not possible" he finally voiced the word he'd been thinking.
"Are you the expert?" she asked in a mocking tone.
Casey felt a surge of anger. "What's the point of this, Rachel? Why are you turning me into...this?"
Rachel's smile never wavered as she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know how much you love gaming, Casey. You're always so wrapped up in your little fantasy world, ignoring everything else, including me."
"But this isn't funny, Rachel!" he exclaimed, his voice higher than he was used to.
"Oh, but it is," she said with a laugh. "You're finally seeing the world from a different perspective. And let's face it, you could use a little taste of your own medicine." Rachel's eyes were alight with something that looked suspiciously like glee as she navigated the streets. "You've always been so dismissive of me and my interests, so now you get to live it. Plus, I think you're kind of enjoying it."
Her words hit a nerve. Was it possible she was right? The way the fabric of his new clothes felt against his skin, the way his hair moved with the wind, it was all...new. Casey felt a blush creep up his cheeks, and Rachel noticed. "You do, don't you?" she teased. "You like being pretty."
"What's the point of this?" he asked again, his voice a mix of anger and confusion.
Rachel's smile grew sly. "You see, Casey, it's all about balance. You've been living in your testosterone-fueled bubble for so long, playing your games and ignoring me. You've never understood what it's like to be a girl, to deal with the pressures and expectations we face every day. You've never appreciated what it takes to look good, to be desirable. So, I figured, why not give you a taste of your own medicine?"
"That's it? You want to share the girly wealth?" He said, more pissed than he thought he was.
"Not quite. You see Chrissy was a man whore, cheating on me. So we made her a slut."
Chrissy?
"Wait Chrissy Mars is..." he said, the truth dawning.
"Chris Marshal yep," she said triumphantly. "I think we did the world a favor."
"And me?" he asked, too afraid of the answer.
"You were fun babe," she said truthfully, "but I was getting bored and annoyed. Like I said, you never respected me. You only ever wanted to hang out with my brother, like a little male girlfriend following him around. That's when we thought, how about we just give you both what you want."
"Wait, you mean..." he asked, slowly piecing things together.
"You'll be such a cute couple. Like you and me. What's more, I'm making you a cheer girl too. Not a Coven girl but you'll be cute in your little outfit, finding out how much worth and purpose we really have.” She said that last bit with some malice.
"I'll tell someone," he threatened, not really believing his words but he had to try.
"No you won't. In fact, in a few days, you'll forget all about being Casey. All you'll remember is Cassie Summers, the big-breasted, girly cheer girl in love with my dumb brother. Hey, it’s not a bad life. At least I didn't make you a bimbo or a slut. You'll like it, I promise."
They pulled up to the school, Rachel stopped in her usual spot. "Now, get out of my car and go off to be a good little girl."
Casey's mind was racing as he stepped out of the car. Rachel's revelation had left him reeling, but he knew he couldn't let her see how deeply she'd cut him. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs and giving him a moment of clarity. He had to find a way out of this, to regain control of his life. As he made his way to the school's entrance, his legs felt unsteady, the heels of his boots clicking on the pavement.
The hallways of Westbrook High were a blur of faces, but unlike the day before, the whispers had turned to giggles and compliments. "Cassie, your hair looks amazing!" one girl cooed, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. Another winked as she passed, her voice low and conspiratorial, "I love your outfit!" It was as if the school had collectively decided to accept him as one of their own, to embrace him in his new identity. The name "Cassie" was thrown around so casually, it was like he'd been living a lie his whole life.
Casey forced a smile, trying to play along, but inside he felt like a caged animal. The world had shifted on its axis, and he was still trying to find his footing. Rachel had painted a picture of a life filled with cheerleading and following her brother around like a lovesick puppy, and it seemed like that was what everyone else saw for him now too.
He walked through the hallways, his hips swaying more than he was used to. He'd never paid much attention to how Rachel moved, but now he found himself mimicking her, trying to fit in. It was eerie, like he was becoming someone else right before his eyes. The compliments from his classmates stung like a thousand tiny needles, each one reminding him of the control Rachel had over his life.
But amidst the confusion and fear, there was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. As the day went on, Casey—now Cassie—began to feel a strange sense of belonging. The way the other girls talked to him, the way they shared knowing looks and whispered secrets, it was like he'd been accepted into a club he never knew he wanted to join. It was...comforting.
At lunch, he sat at his usual table. When Jeremy sat down, he felt his heart pounding. Jeremy was giving him a weird look.
Jeremy sighed. Rachel was doing it again. This was getting out of hand and he knew there was no way he could stop her. The magic in their family only manifested in females. He'd sat by and watched helplessly as Rachel did this over and over again. First it was a boy in first grade named Mark who pulled one of her pigtails. The next day, Mark was replaced by Marcy with pigtails of her own. Then there was the construction worker who leered at her and he transformed into a prostitute. Two years ago it was Mr. Parks, their chauvinistic Math teacher who became flighty Miss Parks two days later. Then last year, Chris disappeared and slutty Chrissy was there.
But Rachel had never gone this far. Casey was his best friend, and Jeremy had watched him fall in love with Rachel from the sidelines, silently rooting for them, even though Rachel had never shown Casey the same affection. Rachel was cruel like that. She liked to play games. And she liked to win.
Jeremy took a bite of his sandwich, watching as Cassie, Rachel's latest creation, picked at her salad, her new breasts straining against the fabric of her top. Rachel had always had a flair for the dramatic.
Jeremy lowered his head and voice. "Casey, you still you?"
Casey—now Cassie—nodded, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "What...you know...?"
"Yeah," Jeremy said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's Rachel. She's...not a good person, man. She does this to people she doesn't like. She's a witch, Case."
"I know," he said, picking at his food. "She told me. Gloated about it on the ride here."
"What else did she say?" asked Jeremy, hoping it wasn't going to be as bad as Chris.
"In a few days I'll forget who I am and that you and I..." he was shaking as he spoke, Jeremy instinctively grabbed his hand. "You and I are supposed to be a couple. It’s some kind of gift to the two of us."
"That bitch!" cursed Jeremy, annoyed that Rachel was meddling in his life now.
"I had no idea she could do this," Casey whispered, his voice trembling. "I thought it was just a prank."
Jeremy nodded solemnly, his eyes filled with understanding. "Yeah, man, she's got a twisted sense of humor. And she doesn't care who she hurts in the process." He squeezed Casey's hand, giving it a gentle pat. "Look, I'm sorry you're caught in the middle of this. Rachel's always been...difficult."
The words hung in the air between them, a silent acknowledgment of the horror show Rachel had become. Casey felt a strange mix of shock and relief. He wasn't going crazy; this was really happening, and Jeremy knew about it. The weight of the secret lifted slightly, but the fear of his impending transformation was still heavy on his shoulders.
As the school day ended and the hallways cleared, Jeremy walked with Casey to his locker, their conversation hushed and urgent. "Look, I've got to go home, but I'll text you tonight, okay?" Jeremy offered, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "I just need to make sure you're still...you."
Casey nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. He'd never realized how much Jeremy cared, not just as a friend but as someone who actually knew the real him. Rachel's plan was twisted, but maybe, just maybe, it had brought them closer together in a way that nothing else could have. "Thanks, Jer," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'll be waiting."
As the night stretched on, the texts from Jeremy became a comforting rhythm. Each message was a gentle reminder that he wasn't alone in this, that there was someone who knew the truth and wasn't going to let him slip away into Rachel's fantasy. At first, the conversation was stilted, filled with awkward pauses and half-hearted jokes. But as the hours passed, they began to talk about things they never had before—their fears, their hopes, and the deepest parts of themselves that had been buried under layers of teenage bravado.
Casey found himself looking forward to the little blips of light from his phone, each one a beacon in the dark sea of his confusion. Jeremy's concern was palpable through the screen, his messages a lifeline that kept Casey tethered to reality. They talked about everything from their favorite movies to their most embarrassing moments, and Casey felt a warmth spread through him that he hadn't felt in days.
As the hours ticked by, Jeremy's texts grew more intimate, sharing his own fears and insecurities. Casey, now feeling more like himself than he had in a while, found himself opening up to his best friend. They talked about Rachel's cruel streak and her need to always be in control.
For the first time, Casey saw Jeremy in a new light, not just as a buddy to share a laugh with, but as someone who truly understood him. The conversation flowed easily, and he found himself blushing as Jeremy's words grew more personal. He admitted to Casey that he'd always had feelings for him, feelings that had been buried deep within. They both quickly realized it was the spell, both of them having a hard time seeing Cassie as anything other than his current self now.
Their bond grew stronger with each message, and Casey felt his heart flutter in a way it never had before for Rachel. The idea of being with Jeremy in a romantic way was foreign, yet it didn't feel wrong. It was as if the universe had twisted in a way that made all the pieces fall into place.
Casey went to bed that night feeling a bit differently about Jeremy and liked it. He lay there, the softness of his new pink bedspread a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts in his head. The way Jeremy had held his hand at lunch, the way his eyes had searched for understanding in Casey's own, it was all so...comforting. He felt a warmth spread through his chest, and for the first time in days, he didn't feel entirely alone.
He couldn't stop thinking about their conversation, about the way Jeremy had looked at him with such concern. It was as if Rachel's cruel game had peeled back the layers of their friendship, revealing something deeper, something real. Casey felt a flutter in his stomach as he thought about the possibility of a life with Jeremy, a life filled with love and acceptance, instead of the one Rachel had so cruelly mapped out for him.
In the morning, Casey's mind was more Cassie than ever. He found himself waking up early, eager to start the day, something he hadn't felt in a long time. The once male-centric room had been fully transformed into a pink and white haven of feminine comfort. The smell of Rachel's perfume lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the transformation he had undergone. But today, it didn't make him feel trapped; it made him feel...happy.
As he stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over his new body, he couldn't help but hum a cheerful tune. His hands moved over his curves with a sense of wonder, soothing his anxieties with gentle strokes. The act of washing himself had become a sensual dance, one that made him feel alive and...feminine. He took his time, enjoying the feeling of the water against his skin, the way his new breasts bobbed gently with his movements. He'd never felt so clean, so refreshed.
There was only a tiny nub between his legs now, the last bit left.
When he stepped out of the shower, Casey—now fully embracing the identity of Cassie—wrapped himself in a plush, pink towel, his body feeling more at ease than ever before. He hummed a cheerful tune as he padded across the soft carpet, the feeling of his long, wet hair brushing against his shoulders sending a thrill down his spine. As he approached the vanity, the sight of his smiling face in the mirror only added to his sense of euphoria.
Cassie's morning routine had become a ritual of self-discovery and acceptance. He took his time, applying makeup with a gentle hand, tracing his newfound curves with the softest of brushes. His eyes sparkled with a newfound confidence as he swept on mascara and blush, his cheeks dimpling as he caught his reflection smiling back at him. The process of transforming into Cassie had become less of a chore and more of a celebration, each stroke of the brush bringing him closer to the person he was becoming.
The school day began, and Jeremy waited for him by the lockers, his eyes wide with astonishment as Cassie approached. Rachel's spell had progressed even further, and Cassie was now the picture of a stunning teenage girl. The tightness in Jeremy's chest grew, a confusing mix of fear for his friend and an undeniable attraction to the girl who stood before him. "You're...you're beautiful," he finally managed to say, the words catching in his throat.
Cassie, still navigating the uncharted waters of his new identity, felt a rush of excitement at Jeremy's reaction. Rachel's plan was clearly working, but the emotions swirling within him were a blend of panic and a strange sense of rightness. Rachel had wanted to make him into a love interest, and it seemed she had succeeded—just not in the way she had intended. Jeremy's gaze was filled with something more than friendship now, something that made Cassie's heart race in a way that Rachel's cruel games never had.
They walked to class together, their steps in sync, their shoulders brushing occasionally. The air between them was charged with tension, a dance of unspoken desires and fears. Rachel had turned him into a girl, and in doing so, had unwittingly brought him closer to the one person who truly understood him.
At lunch, Rachel spotted them from across the cafeteria, her eyes narrowing. She stalked over, her hips swaying with each step. "Cassie, sweetie," she called out, her voice a sugared dagger. "I think you've been sitting in the wrong place." She grabbed Casey's arm, her grip surprisingly firm, and pulled him away from Jeremy, leading him to the table of cheerleaders. "You belong with us now," she said, her smile as sweet as a knife to the throat.
The girls at the table looked up, their faces lighting up as if they'd been expecting him. "Hey, Cassie!" they chorused, waving their perfectly manicured hands. Rachel pushed him down into a seat next to her, the plastic chair feeling very uncomfortable at this spot.
"This is Becky, Amber, and Tiffany," Rachel said, pointing to each of them with a smug smile. "You remember, right?"
Casey nodded, his heart racing. Somehow, their names just came to him, as if he'd known them forever. Rachel's spell was weaving a new reality around him, and he was getting caught up in the threads. The girls at the table beamed at him, their expressions welcoming and warm. He felt like he was being swallowed up by a sea of pink and glitter, but there was something comforting about it. It was like Rachel had rewritten his past to fit her twisted narrative, and now he was living in her world.
Becky leaned in, her blonde hair framing her face like a halo. "Cassie, you look fabulous today!" she exclaimed. "Did you do your hair like that?"
Cassie's hand flew to his hair, the soft waves feeling surprisingly natural against his skin. He'd never been one for styling, but Rachel had apparently included a crash course in feminine grooming with her spell. "Thanks," he murmured, blushing under their scrutiny.
The conversation at the table was a whirlwind of giggles and gossip, and as the minutes ticked by, Cassie found himself slipping into the rhythm of it all. He listened intently as Becky recounted her weekend drama with the football team captain, his eyes widening at the tales of love triangles and betrayal. Amber talked about her latest shopping spree, the designer names rolling off her tongue like a foreign language he was somehow beginning to understand. And Tiffany...Tiffany was whispering sweet nothings about a new boy in town that had all the girls swooning.
For the first time in days, Cassie felt like he belonged. The cheerleaders treated him as if he'd always been one of them, and their acceptance was intoxicating. He laughed at their jokes, nodded in agreement, and even contributed to their conversations with a newfound ease. Rachel's spell was working in ways he'd never imagined—he was becoming a part of their world, their culture. The reluctance he'd felt earlier had melted away, replaced by a strange sense of comfort.
Jeremy watched it all from Casey's previous table. He cursed. The spell was progressing faster than he hoped. Rachel clearly had a plan and with Homecoming this weekend, he felt the spell would end there. If he didn't do something fast, he might lose his best friend forever. The problem was, he had no idea how to beat his sister.
Jeremy felt his phone buzz. It was a message from Casey, asking if they could talk after school. Jeremy felt a twinge of hope. Maybe Casey was fighting Rachel's influence. Or maybe Rachel had programmed him to seek Jeremy out. Either way, he had to go along with it.
After lunch ended, Jeremy lost track of Casey. They had no more classes together in the afternoon. He just had to hope that Casey was still himself when they met up later.
As the day went on, Casey found himself slipping more and more into the role Rachel had laid out for him. The hallways of Westbrook High were a minefield of giggles and whispers. Rachel had told him about her spell, and how it was supposed to make him forget everything about his past life as Casey Summers. But with every giggle and every nod, he felt the line between Casey and Cassie blurring. It was as if he was becoming a character in Rachel's twisted narrative, and he didn't know how to break free.
The classes dragged on, each bell chiming like a funeral knell for his lost identity. He caught himself sitting straighter in his chair, his legs crossed at the knee in a way that was distinctly feminine. His voice had become softer, lilting up at the end of his sentences, and the way he talked with his hands was more delicate than ever before. It was like he was watching a movie of himself, and the leading role had been recast without his consent.
In the hallways, he felt the eyes of his peers upon him, some of them curious, others pitying. Rachel's squad was always close by, their laughter a siren's call that both terrified and thrilled him. He'd always been the quiet one, the one who blended into the background, but now he was the center of attention, the butterfly emerging from the cocoon Rachel had so cruelly spun for him.
When the final bell rang, Casey rushed to his locker, his heart racing. He had to hold onto who he was, had to find a way to break Rachel's spell before it was too late. Jeremy was already there, his eyes searching the hall, looking for any sign of trouble. When their eyes met, the tension between them was palpable. Rachel had made sure to keep them apart during the school day, but she couldn't control them outside of it.
"Hey," Casey said, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned against the locker. "I need your help."
Jeremy looked at him, his eyes searching for the friend he knew was trapped beneath Rachel's enchantment. "What's up, Case?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual despite the urgency pulsing through his veins.
"I...I don't know if I can do this," Casey confessed, his voice shaking as he leaned closer to Jeremy. "Everything feels so...different. And Rachel, she's so smug about it all."
Casey's heart was pounding. He really wanted to kiss Jeremy.
"Look, I know you're fighting Rachel's spell, but you need to stay strong," Jeremy whispered, his voice filled with urgency. "We're going to break it. I promise."
Casey nodded, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But it's getting so hard, Jer. Every moment, I feel more and more like...her. Like Rachel's creation."
They walked out to the parking lot, their steps matching as they approached Jeremy's car. Without thinking, Casey reached for Jeremy's hand, and Jeremy took it, the warmth of the contact grounding him. The engine roared to life, and they pulled out of the school's parking lot, the wind whipping through the windows carrying with it the scent of the impending fall.
Jeremy's knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he drove. His eyes kept flicking to Casey in the passenger seat. The way the setting sun kissed the soft curves of her cheekbones, the way her hair danced in the breeze—it was all so alien and yet eerily familiar. He could see the fear in Casey's eyes, the same fear he felt in his own heart. Rachel had gone too far this time.
"We're going to figure this out," Jeremy said, his voice a mix of reassurance and determination. "We're going to find a way to break this spell."
"You've said that, twice now" said Casey with a soft, feminine laugh.
"Well I mean it, extra," said Jeremy, suddenly feeling like an awkward dork.
"But, you don't know anything about spells," Casey said, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. "What are we going to do?"
"I've been studying," he confirmed. "Whenever Rachel goes out, I sneak into her room and look at her books and notes. I can't do magic but I can at least know how it all works. It’s complicated. I've tried talking to my mother about it but she thinks I'm crazy. It’s weird because I thought for sure she would have magic like Rachel but she doesn't..."
Casey had a thought. "What about your grandmother?"
Jeremy sighed. "She's dead. She died when my Mom was little."
"Any other female relatives on your Mom's side then?" Casey was grasping at straws but they had to do something.
Jeremy had thought of that too. "One. My grandmother had a sister but she travels a lot and is hard to get ahold of. I've been trying. I've sent her emails and multiple messages, so I'm hoping we can finally connect."
"Will she help?" asked a desperate Casey.
Jeremy shrugged. "I don't know, but we don't have much time left. Homecoming is only a few days away now. I fear the spell will reach its end then."
Casey felt hollow but nodded.
They finally made it to Casey's house. Jeremy pulled his car into the driveway, giving Casey's hand a gentle squeeze before he got out. He took a deep breath before opening the front door, expecting anything. He sighed in relief when things appeared normal. Well, except for the family photos on the walls and scattered about. He was gone now, in his place was the girl the spell had turned him into. He sighed. He wondered if his parents and older brother now thought of him as a girl as well?
He went to his room, and the moment the door swung open, the stark reality of Rachel's work slapped him in the face. The room that once held the essence of Casey Summers was now a shrine to Rachel's ideal. The posters of video games and sports had been replaced with images of pop stars and rom-com movie scenes. The shelves that once held comic books and action figures were now lined with makeup and fashion magazines. The bed was covered in a pink comforter with white lace trim, and the walls were painted a soft shade of lavender.
But it was the closet that truly took his breath away. Where his jeans and hoodies had once been, there now hung a crisp blue and white cheerleader uniform. The fabric whispered against the hangers, a silent declaration of Rachel's victory. The sight of it sent a shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of the fate she had in store for him. He approached the mirror on his closet door and took in his reflection. The person staring back at him was no longer the boy he had been.
"You haven't won yet," he silently declared. "I'm still here."
That night, Casey, now fully immersed in the world Rachel had crafted for him, had dreams unlike any he'd ever experienced before. They were no longer nightmares of transformation and loss, but rather romantic reveries featuring Jeremy. In the dreams, they were at the school dance, bodies swaying together under the strobe lights, Jeremy's hand resting gently on the small of Cassie's back. The sensation was electric, and he could feel the warmth of Jeremy's palm through the thin fabric of his dress.
In the dream, Jeremy looked at him with a softness in his eyes that was both terrifying and exhilarating. They danced closer and closer, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync with the bass of the music. And then, just as the song reached its crescendo, Jeremy leaned in, his lips brushing against Cassie's in a kiss that sent a jolt of pure pleasure through his body. The room around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, entwined in an embrace that seemed to defy the very fabric of reality.
The next morning, Cassie woke up feeling more alive than ever before. The warmth of the sun peeked through the pink curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room that was now so utterly his. She slid out of bed and padded over to the closet, her heart racing with anticipation. Rachel's spell had even infiltrated her subconscious now, making her look forward to the day ahead. She pulled out a cute top and a skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places, feeling a strange sense of liberation as she slipped them on. The fabric was soft and comfortable, and for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the sensation of being a girl.
Breakfast with her mother was a breeze. Cassie’s mom had always been a morning person, her cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the woman who had raised Casey. "You look lovely today, Cassie," she said with a warm smile, pouring her daughter a glass of orange juice.
Cassie smiled, blissfully happy. "Thanks, Mom. Oh, can you pick up my dress from the dry cleaners for me today?"
Her mother smiled. "Sure sweetie."
While she ate her simple breakfast, she pulled out her phone with the pink sparkle case and texted Jeremy: "Morning, babe." There was no response, which made her pout. So he was being elusive. Maybe they were fighting? He drove her home from school like usual yesterday but she couldn't remember what they talked about? Was it the dance? Maybe the Homecoming game?
She sighed. Oh well, it probably wasn't that important.
When Cassie arrived at school, she slammed the car door shut with a bit too much gusto, the sound echoing in the nearly empty parking lot. She'd woken up feeling strange, like she'd been living someone else's life. But as she walked through the halls, the greetings grew more enthusiastic, the compliments more genuine. It was as if Rachel's spell had reached a new level, making her not just a cheerleader, but one of the most popular girls in school.
Her locker was adorned with pink sticky notes, each one bearing a message of support or a flirty remark from boys she'd never talked to before. She spun the combination lock with practiced ease, the metal clicking into place with a satisfying finality. As the locker door swung open, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of her beautiful face in the little mirror.
And there he was.
Jeremy.
He was standing right there, at her locker. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. But when he called her "Casey," everything stopped. The world around her swam in a dizzying rush of pink and glitter, and suddenly, she was aware of the skirt she was wearing. It hugged her thighs and fluttered around her knees, and the horror of the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.
"What the hell am I wearing?" gasped Casey as he started to tug on the end of the offending garment, hoping to stretch the short skirt longer.
Jeremy sighed in relief. "Welcome back bud."
Casey looked around, scared. "What the hell happened? How did I get to school? Why am I wearing this?"
Jeremy nodded in understanding. "Looks like Cassie was here this morning." He held up his phone and the text he received this morning. "This kind of freaked me out."
Casey read the text that was apparently sent from him. He was really embarrassed, especially about calling Jeremy, "babe."
"This is bad. I have no memory of any of it," he groaned, wanting to crawl into his tiny locker and hide.
"Looks like we're really running out of time now," said Jeremy with a heavy sigh.
They parted to go to their respective first period classes.
As soon as they parted, Cassie took over again. She went through her day like she always did. Or at least like the spell crafted. After all, she didn't remember being Casey. All she knew was that she was Cassie, the pretty, popular cheerleader. That is until she met up with Jeremy for the few classes they shared. As soon as he called her "Casey," Casey came back. It was jarring for him and really confusing.
At lunch, Rachel's spell pulled him back into her orbit, and just like that, he was Cassie again. Rachel strutted over, her smile a glittery trap. She slid into the chair next to Cassie, her hand landing possessively on Cassie’s thigh. "Hey, Cass," she said, her voice a syrupy sweetness. "You're looking fab today."
The other cheerleaders leaned in, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Becky, Amber, and Tiffany all had something to say about the pep rally that afternoon. Rachel's fingers traced patterns on Cassie's leg, and she found herself leaning into the touch, her heart racing. Rachel was like a puppeteer, pulling his strings and she was her marionette.
"You got your Homecoming dress sorted?" asked Rachel, curious to see how far gone Casey was now.
"My Mom's picking it up for me today," gushed Cassie. "Its totes adorbs. You guys are gonna freak!"
Rachel smiled. So this was her new little Cassie. She was happy with her handiwork. She turned and cast a nasty look at her twin across the way at his table. Jeremy had been watching the whole time. He was a problem. She just wished he'd accept all this and be done with it. She thought about bewitching him too, but the thought of messing with her brother was a step too far. Though, there always had been that thought in the back of her mind. What would it be like if she had a twin sister instead? It was just that though, a stray thought.
After lunch, Jeremy once again brought Casey back to his senses.
"Dude!" snapped Casey, annoyed. "I can't keep doing this. I'm fucking freaking out. I have no idea what's going on or what I've done."
Jeremy nodded solemnly. "I know it's tough, Case, but we're going to get through this."
That night, Jeremy's phone buzzed with a new message. He stared at the screen, his heart racing. It was from an unknown number, but the message was clear: "This is dangerous. Your sister is messing with powers she can't control."
Jeremy fired a message back. "What do I do? How do I stop it?"
Clara sent a message back. "Your grandmother had a necklace, it should be in your mother's possession now. It will block any mind-controlling and mind-altering spell cast on the wearer. It’s imperative that you start wearing it as soon as possible."
"What about Casey?" he typed, more concerned about his friend.
"I fear he might be too far gone," typed Clara quickly. "The only true way to stop the spell is for Rachel to do so. At the very least, she can halt the mind altering she's doing. If you say your friend is already female, I fear there's nothing we can do to reverse that now."
Jeremy cursed. So that was it. Casey was going to be a girl for the rest of his life now. Jeremy felt sick to his stomach. If only he’d acted sooner.
"What do I do?" he typed, determined to at least save his friend's sanity.
"You have to convince Rachel to reverse the mind spell," typed Clara.
Jeremy nodded to himself. It was a long shot but it was all they had. He had to do something.
The next morning, Cassie woke up feeling refreshed again.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, but she ignored it, sliding out of bed with the grace of a gazelle. She didn't bother checking the messages. Today was a new day, and she had a pep rally to dominate. Rachel's spell had woven itself into her very essence, making her every thought and movement a reflection of the girl she was meant to be. The sun streamed in through her windows, casting a pink glow across her bedspread. She stretched, feeling the softness of the fabric against her skin. The room was a reflection of Rachel's design, down to the last detail.
In the mirror, Cassie's reflection smiled back, her eyes sparkling with a mischief that was Rachel's own. She twirled, watching the skirt of her cheerleading outfit flutter around her. The uniform was like a second skin, hugging her curves in a way that made her feel powerful. Rachel had crafted this identity so meticulously that even Casey's subconscious had been painted over with her glittering palette.
The halls of the school were a blur of blue and white as she strutted to her first class. The whispers of her classmates were a sweet symphony of adoration and envy.
Cassie felt invincible, her every step light and graceful. Rachel had done a thorough job, and the thrill of her new life washed over her like a warm shower.
She spent the day with the squad, all the girls bouncing from class to class in their cheer outfits.
Midday, the pep rally started and Cassie performed with all the other cheerleaders. She was peppy and happy, bouncing about with joy and enthusiasm, her ponytail swinging behind her. The crowd roared as she and the other cheerleaders did their routines, their pom-poms fluttering like butterfly wings. The school was a sea of blue and white, the colors of their school spirit.
The cheerleaders formed a pyramid, and Rachel stood at the top, her megawatt smile blinding even the strongest of skeptics. Cassie looked up at her from the bottom, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. Rachel's hand hovered over her, a silent promise of dominance and control.
As the music blared, they began their routine, and Cassie's body moved in perfect synchrony with the others. Her pom-poms fluttered like butterfly wings, each shake and twirl a testament to Rachel's power. The crowd's cheers grew louder, and she could feel the energy coursing through her veins.
Meanwhile, Jeremy was back at his house, surrounded by stacks of dusty books and scribbled notes. His desk was a battlefield of crumpled paper and discarded pencils, a testament to his furious brainstorming. He knew Rachel wasn't going to back down easily, so he had to come up with something she wouldn't expect.
The only plan he had was to match magic with magic. Sadly the only way to do that was to give Rachel something she always wanted: a twin sister.
He waited until Rachel got home from school, his heart racing as he heard the front door slam shut. He took a deep breath and marched into the living room where she was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone with one hand while popping gummy bears into her mouth with the other.
"Hey, Rach," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Rachel looked up from her phone, her expression a perfect blend of boredom and irritation. "What do you want, Jer?" she mumbled, popping another gummy bear into her mouth.
Jeremy took a deep breath and stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "I know what you've been doing to Casey," he said, his voice shaking with anger. "And I'm not going to stand for it anymore."
Rachel rolled her eyes and sat up straighter, tossing her phone onto the couch cushion. "Now you're growing a pair?" she asked, her tone deceptively calm.
"I've always had a pair but I've just been too afraid to say anything but not now. You've gone too far, I'm not going to let you turn my best friend into some girly-girl ditz for you and your friends to play with."
Rachel laughed, "Too late for that, little brother."
She was the "older" twin, born a few minutes before him. She never let him forget it.
"No more!" he snapped. "You've stepped over the line, you crazy bitch!"
He knew that was the trigger.
"What did you call me?" she asked, her tone going cold.
"You heard me," he said, his clenched fists at his side.
Rachel smirked. "You know, you've been a real emo brat lately. I do you a favor and how do you repay me? You whine. You always whine. You're barely a man when you whine like that..." Her voice trailed off and she said what he was hoping she'd say. "You know what, fuck it. I'm done with you, little brother."
With a flick of Rachel's wrist, Jeremy felt a sudden surge of power wash over him. His skin tingled, his muscles contracted and his body began to shrink and shift. His jeans tightened around his legs as they grew shorter and slimmer, his T-shirt grew tight over his chest as it expanded. He felt a strange sensation in his throat as his vocal cords stretched and tightened. He watched in horror as Rachel's smug grin grew wider and wider.
The transformation was quick and painless, but the reality of it was anything but. His once-short hair grew out into a mess of black and purple waves that framed a new face, one with delicate features and a hint of dark makeup and piercings that hadn't been there before. His eyes widened as they took in the reflection of a girl staring back at him in the mirror. Rachel had gone full force with this spell, turning him into a living embodiment of the emo stereotype she despised. His heart raced as he realized he was now trapped in a body that was the very essence of what Rachel had accused him of being.
"I think I'll call you Jenna," she smirked, admiring her handiwork. "But you'll call yourself Jade, the black sheep of our family."
She raised her hand again, bringing forth the mind-control spell. The very same one she used on so many before, including Casey. Jeremy felt the necklace on his neck grow hot as the spell washed over him. He had retrieved it this morning and put it on, just as Clara had told him. When the magic spell started, the necklace had protected him just like Clara said it would. He still had to play along, though.
"Ugh, Rach, what the fuck do you want?" he said, hoping he sold the bitch stereotype well.
Rachel smirked, "You're the one who started shit with me, Jen."
Jeremy scoffed, "Whatever!"
He pushed past her, almost falling in the black platform boots he was now wearing.
"Jenna, don't be such a drama queen," Rachel called after him, her voice echoing in the hallway as he stomped up the stairs.
Jeremy's heart raced as he reached the sanctuary of his bedroom, now a prison cell of lace and darkness. The once blue and white walls were painted a deep, foreboding black, adorned with silver stars and moons. His posters of skateboarding legends had been replaced with images of brooding rockstars and melancholic landscapes. The scent of Rachel's perfume hung in the air, a suffocating reminder of the cage she had crafted for him. He slammed the door and stomped across the room, cursing his sister for taking his life away.
He flopped down onto the bed, the mattress now covered with a velvet black comforter with a pattern of ivy leaves that seemed to crawl up the walls. The once familiar space was now a twisted reflection of his new dark tastes, a mockery of his old self. Jeremy took a deep breath, trying to focus on his mission rather than the chaos that had become his reality.
He raised his hand, mumbled something under his breath and saw a blue flame flicker to life. So reading all her books and spells had paid off after all. Now that he too was a girl, he could use magic. Just like he planned.
"Now, we're on an even playing field," he said quietly to himself.
Cassie's day had taken an unexpected twist. Rachel's spell had rewritten her history so seamlessly that she didn't even realize she had forgotten about Jeremy. Her heart fluttered with excitement as she slipped into her little blue dress. The fabric clung to her curves in all the right places, and she felt like a different person altogether.
Her phone buzzed again, Rachel's name lighting up the screen. "Come over to my house before the dance," Rachel's message read. "We're going to do something special."
Cassie's stomach twisted into knots. Rachel had been acting strange lately, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She had to admit, though, that Rachel had made her feel accepted, powerful even. She had friends, she had a place in the school's social hierarchy, and she had Chet, the quarterback. She loved Chet. Rachel had introduced them and she was over the moon to have him in her life.
But as soon as she walked into Rachel's house, the glamour fell away like a cheap Halloween costume. Rachel and a girl with black and purple hair and dark eyeliner were sitting on the couch, Rachel's hand on her new twin's knee. "You're early," Rachel said, her voice cold. "But that's okay. We were just about to start."
Jenna, or Jade, or whatever Rachel had decided to call her former brother today, gave Cassie a look that was equal parts pity and anger. Rachel's eyes glinted with a malicious delight as she saw the confusion on Cassie’s face. "You remember my dear sister, don't you?" Rachel said, her tone sickly-sweet. "Jenna's been going through a bit of a phase, but I've got her all sorted out now."
Rachel gestured towards Cassie, and Casey’s mind came flooding back. He saw the goth girl sitting next to Rachel, looking pissed. But there was something about the girl, something about that face...
Then it clicked for him. "Jeremy!" he gasped, seeing his friend in the new girl before him. "What have you done!" Casey screamed at Rachel.
Rachel smirked. "He was disrespectful and now he's paying the price for it."
Jeremy feigned disinterest. "What am I doing here? Why did you want me to meet one of your ditzy friends?"
Casey felt his heart melt. No, she got to Jeremy. She turned him into this...this...girl. He felt like he wanted to puke. Rachel had gotten them, she’d gotten both of them.
Rachel's eyes gleamed with triumph as she saw the horror in Casey's eyes. "You see, Casey, nobody messes with me and gets away with it. Not even my own twin."
But then, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Jeremy, now dressed as the goth girl she had mocked him for. She was surprised for a moment, until she saw the look on his face.
"Surprise!" he said with a triumphant smirk.
"Wait, how?" she asked, confused, backing away from her new sister.
"Magic, duh!" said Jeremy, shaking his head. "It runs in the family, remember - but only girls. Mom doesn't have it, so I figured it must skip a generation. So, that got me thinking. Grandma must have had it, and if grandma had it then..."
Clarity dawned on Rachel. "Great Aunt Clara," she said softly.
Jeremy smirked again, reaching into his top and pulling out the necklace. "This was grandma's, it blocks mind control. You really need to pay more attention, sis. Especially when you're being outplayed."
Rachel's eyes went wide with fear as she realized she had underestimated her brother, now sister.
Rachel tried to react but Jeremy was faster. He snapped his wrist, freezing his sister in place.
"You've had your fun, Rach," Jeremy said, his voice eerily calm. Rachel felt a strange pressure in her head, like someone was poking around in her memories. She tried to fight it, but it was like trying to swim in a pool of Jell-O. "But it's time to let go," he continued, his eyes burning with a power Rachel hadn't seen before.
With a flick of his wrist, Rachel felt the world tilt. She watched as the memories of her spells and her power slipped away like sand in an hourglass. She was left with nothing but confusion and a faint sense of loss. She didn't remember magic or anything involved with it. Every one of those memories were locked away, lost forever. A strange sense of calm swam around her and she passed out, still suspended in the air by her former brother turned sister.
Jeremy lowered Rachel to the couch, letting her sleep it off.
Casey blinked, flabbergasted. "Is she OK?”
Jeremy sighed and nodded. "She'll sleep it off. It will be like a dream to her."
"And me? Us?" asked Casey, realizing he was still very much a girl but at least thinking like himself again.
Jeremy looked at him with a sad smile. "It's permanent for us both, Case. Apparently, that's how gender spells work. But we can live with it, right?"
Casey nodded, the weight of the truth sinking in. He had felt a strange comfort in the body of Cassie, but the reality was that he was Casey now. And Rachel was... Rachel. The thought of her no longer controlling him was a relief, but the cost was high. He had lost a lot to Rachel's spitefulness and now Jeremy was stuck too.
"And my mind?" he asked, wondering if as soon as he left here, he'd slip back into being Cassie again.
"Your own," Jeremy said with a laugh. "I finally talked with Aunt Clara. She told me I needed to get Rachel to remove the mind control. The only way I could think of was to lower her guard and get her to do it with her own free will. I knew how much of an egotist my sister was, so I knew she would never be able to resist rubbing in your face what she did to me."
Casey was shocked. To think his friend would do this to help him. He was touched but there was something else too. Something he was still feeling toward Jeremy.
"And you sacrificed your gender for me?" Casey said, shocked and a little impressed.
Jeremy looked down at his own breasts. "Spur of the moment. I figured what better way for her to gloat than to turn your best friend into a girl, too."
"What happens now?" asked Casey. "I'm supposed to be going to the Homecoming dance with…," he groaned and shivered, "Chet Reynolds."
Jeremy shrugged. "Guess we'll have to deal with it."
But before they could even start to process the gravity of the situation, there was a sudden burst of light and the sound of fabric rustling. They both turned to see an elderly woman standing before them, her eyes sparkling with an energy that defied her age. It was Great Aunt Clara, her hair a wild tangle of gray curls and her face etched with lines of wisdom and mischief. Rachel snored gently on the couch, oblivious to the new presence in the room.
"Jeremy," Aunt Clara said, her voice a gentle, yet firm, whisper. "I've been watching. You've done well, but the transformation is only half the battle." She then looked at Casey, her gaze softening. "And you, dear boy, you're caught in a tapestry of spells that go deeper than you can imagine."
Casey nodded, his mind racing. "What do we do now?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Clara approached them, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. "Now," she said, "we make a choice. Rachel's magic is in a delicate state, but as long as she remains unconscious, I can help you both navigate this new reality." She held out her hand, revealing a crystal on a silver chain. "With your consent, I can blend your true selves with the personas Rachel created. You will be both Casey and Cassie, Jeremy and Jenna, in harmony."
Casey looked at Jeremy, then back at Clara. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Clara said, her voice a soothing balm over their fears, "that you can choose to keep your new identities as part of who you are, without Rachel's control. You can learn to balance the masculine and feminine aspects within yourselves."
Jeremy looked skeptical but Casey saw something in Clara's eyes that made him want to trust her. "How do we do that?" he asked.
Clara sat down between them, holding the crystal in both her hands. "By accepting each other and embracing the parts Rachel brought out. Rachel's magic is strong, but it's rooted in fear and anger. With love and understanding, we can reshape it."
Casey and Jeremy shared a look, the weight of the decision heavy in their eyes. "Okay," Casey finally said, taking a deep breath. "We'll do it."
Clara nodded, a warm smile spreading across her face. She closed her eyes and began to chant, the crystal in her hand pulsing with a gentle light that grew brighter with each passing second. The room grew warm, the air crackling with energy.
The light grew to envelop Casey, and he felt a sudden rush of sensations as Clara's magic wove through him, tugging at the threads of his identity. It was as if he was being pulled in two different directions, and yet, somehow, they were coming together, merging into something new. He saw flashes of Cassie's memories, the joy of being accepted and powerful, and felt a strange comfort in the embrace of his new identity.
When the light faded, she was Cassie. But she wasn't the Cassie from before. She was still Casey too, as if Clara had simply transformed Casey into a female version of himself. This new reality was strange to her. She felt different and yet the same. She was content, though. There was no more conflict. It was as if she was born this way. What's more, she had blended memories. It was as if her life as Casey had just become her life as Cassie with some differences too, of course.
"Weird," she said, flexing her blue painted nails. "I'm me."
"Of course you are, sweetie," said Clara with a joyful laugh.
She then turned and did the same thing for Jeremy.
Cassie watched as a light enveloped her friend. It lasted only a few seconds but when it faded, the girl that stood before her was not the same as before. She was still Jenna but no longer emo and angry. She wasn't wearing black, her hair was a darker shade of blonde, the goth makeup and facial piercings gone. She was wearing a cute flowing green dress, fit for a dance.
Jenna blinked. "Did it work?" she asked, then paused. "Wait, yeah it worked. That was so weird."
Clara smiled. "And with that, you two girls are whole again."
"What do we do now?" asked Jenna, still surprised that she felt so natural.
Clara smiled. "Whatever you two desire." Then she smirked, "But might I make a suggestion. I believe there's a Homecoming dance tonight and I see two lovely girls all dressed up without dates."
She winked then disappeared in a burst of light.
Cassie felt her heart flutter looking at Jenna. She knew she liked Jeremy before, but seeing her now as this beautiful girl, she wasn't sure if it was still the same. "Jenna," she whispered, "what are we going to do?"
Jenna looked back at her with a soft smile. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to the dance."
Jenna held out her hand, and a blushing Cassie happily took it.
"Let's go," Jenna said with a smile, leading them out the door.
The cool evening air was a stark contrast to the warmth of Rachel's house. They made their way to the school's gym, which had been transformed into a magical wonderland for the Homecoming dance. The lights twinkled, casting a soft glow over the decorations that Rachel had meticulously chosen. It was strange for Cassie to walk into the event Rachel had so meticulously orchestrated, knowing Rachel wasn't in control anymore.
As they entered, the squad members looked at Cassie expectantly, their eyes searching for Rachel. "Hey," one of them called out, "where's Rachel? She's the star of the show!"
Cassie felt a pang of guilt, but she couldn't let Rachel's spitefulness ruin the night. "She's not feeling well," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "But she wanted us to go on without her."
The squad members nodded with concern, but the music and excitement of the dance quickly drew their attention away. Cassie and Jenna stepped into the gym, the bass of the music vibrating through the floor. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers and the buzz of chatter as everyone danced and laughed. It was a stark contrast to the dark reality they had just left behind.
They moved through the crowd, the strobe lights flickering over their faces, highlighting their smiles. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Cassie felt genuine joy.
"You okay?" Jenna yelled over the music, her hand still in Cassie's.
"Yeah," Cassie shouted back, her heart racing. She had never felt more alive, more herself. Rachel had tried to bend her to her will, but Clara's magic had given her back control. She was in charge now.
She smiled and rested her head gently on Jenna's shoulder. She wasn't sure what her future held but tonight, she could live in this moment. Tomorrow, she would think about that when it came.
***
The next morning.
Rachel awoke on the couch, her head throbbing with the mother of all headaches. She rubbed at her temples, trying in vain to quench the pain that pulsed with every heartbeat.
“Hello dear,” said a familiar voice.
Rachel squinted, barely able to see through the pain throbbing in her head. But she knew the figure before her.
“Aunt Clara?” she asked, confused.
Her Great Aunt smiled. “I think it’s time you and I had a nice heart-to-heart”
Rachel wasn’t sure but suddenly she felt very scared but couldn’t understand why.
The End
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
The grandeur of Easton Prep's interior was impossible to ignore. The marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, casting a warm embrace over the sea of unfamiliar faces. The walls were adorned with portraits of stern-looking alumni, their eyes seemingly judging every step he took. The high ceilings with their intricate moldings whispered secrets of the school's storied past. Avery's eyes darted around the hallway, taking in the groups of students in pristine, crisp uniforms, their laughter echoing off the walls like a symphony of wealth and entitlement. The air was thick with the scent of freshly waxed floors and the faint aroma of the library's leather-bound books. He felt both intimidated and invigorated by the challenge that lay ahead.
Making his way through the labyrinth of corridors, Avery found the office with the number '102' etched into the dark wood of the door. He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the brass knob, before pushing it open. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with hair as tightly wound as the curls of the school's emblem, jolted at the interruption. Her eyes darted from the computer screen to Avery, her fingers hovering over the 'Solitaire' game she had been playing. She took a moment to compose herself before flashing a forced smile.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice a blend of annoyance and curiosity.
Avery took a step forward, his heart racing. "I'm Avery James," he began, "I'm new here"
The woman's expression softened. "Oh I'm so sorry, sweetie" Her voice now sugary sweet. "I thought you were on of those solicitors from the public school down the street, looking for donations again"
Avery's cheeks burned at the misunderstanding. He took the papers she offered with a nod, trying to hide his embarrassment. The fliers were for the school play and the swim team tryouts, but it was the leather bound book that really caught his eye. It was the student handbook, and as he flipped through the pages, he nodded understanding. There was a uniform requirement which he already knew and apparently a dress code for after hours.
The receptionist, Mrs. Castellanos, as her nameplate read, took his silence as an opportunity to explain. "The dress code is strict, but it's for everyone's benefit. You know, to maintain the Easton image," she said, peering at him over her glasses. "There's a section in there on what young ladies should and should not wear"
There it was. Just like everyone else he'd ever met, this woman had mistaken him for a girl. Honestly he blamed his parents and their genes. Whereas his father was this big burly football linebacker, his mother was drop dead gorgeous. Once upon a time before he and his older sister, Parker, were born, his mother had been a pretty famous supermodel. There wasn't a boy around who didn't know Claudia Reese. Even to this day, she was talked about fondly. The thing is, he inherited his mother's looks. Combined with his skinny, five foot ten frame, curly dark blonde hair and light caramel colored skin.
He was hot. There was no denying it.
"I'm a guy actually" he said softly, embarrassed.
"Oh I'm so sorry, sweetie" she said, understanding.
"Its ok, it happens all the time" he started to say when she patted his hand.
"It doesn't say anywhere in here that you wish to identify as male, do you want me to add it?"
WTF.
He groaned. "No, I'm good"
There was no winning with these people.
Avery sighed and stepped out of the office, the weight of his new backpack digging into his shoulders. He glanced down at the schedule in his hand. There were no classes today, apparently, it was some sort of orientation day. Great. More time for everyone to stare and whisper about the new 'girl'. He stuffed the paper into his pocket and started walking down the hallway, his sneakers squeaking against the gleaming floors.
He pulled out his phone, using the digital map the school provided weeks ago. He found his way to the boy's dormitory---having to cut through a courtyard to do so. Climbing some stairs to the second floor, he made his way to his dorm room.
When he was accepted at Easton, he was glad to see that he could live on campus. The school had a lot of international students and while his family did live in the city, he wanted the opportunity to live apart from them. His mother was a bit of a helicopter Mom and his father was always up his ass to get into sports or go to the gym to "bulk up".
He knocked on the door before entering.
The common room was a shock of color and light, a stark contrast to the stoic corridor he'd just left. Posters of rock bands and sports teams covered the walls, and a large, plush couch sat in the center, surrounded by bean bags and a mess of video game consoles. The scent of teenage boy – a mix of body spray and pizza – filled the air. Three boys looked up from their various screens and snacks, their eyes widening as they took in Avery's delicate features and slender frame.
"Ummm, this is the boy's dorm" said one of them.
Avery felt his cheeks heat up. "I know, I belong here?"
One of the boys, a stocky blonde with a smirk, raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Avery rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone to show them his acceptance email. "Yeah, pretty sure."
The blonde's smirk faltered. "Oh, uh, sorry. I'm Liam. That's Marcus and Alex," he said, pointing to the other two. Marcus, a lanky brunette, nodded while munching on a bag of chips, and Alex, a taller boy with a mop of red hair, gave a half-hearted wave.
Avery swallowed his annoyance and offered a small smile. "Nice to meet you guys, I'm Avery" he said, hoping to keep the conversation light. "So, what do you all do for fun around here?"
Liam's smirk returned. "Well, Avery, it's mostly studying and sports. But we do have a pretty sick gaming setup in here," he said, gesturing to the array of consoles.
Marcus looked up from his chips, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, man. If you're into that sort of thing, you'll fit right in."
Alex leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You play any games?"
Avery shrugged. "Some. Mostly Danger Zone"
"No way!" exclaimed Marcus, dropping his bag of chips. "You any good?"
Avery's smile grew a bit more genuine. "I hold my own," he said with a shrug.
The three boys exchanged glances, and the tension in the room seemed to dissipate slightly. Liam leaned back into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. "Well, if you can handle Danger Zone, you might just survive around here."
Marcus swiped the crumbs from his shirt and grinned. "I'm the resident FIFA champion, but I'm down to get destroyed at anything."
Alex chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Don't let him fool you, he's pretty good at everything he plays."
The four of them chuckled, the ice broken. The awkwardness of Avery's looks was forgotten just as quickly as it was brought up.
"This is it," Alex said, leading Avery to the last room on the left.
The door was open, revealing a space that was both sparse and welcoming. It was a single room, one bed, a desk, and a fairly large closet. The walls were a soft, institutional blue that seemed to suck the life out of the room.
Avery stepped inside, his eyes scanning the bare surfaces, the starkness making his heart sink. This was going to be his sanctuary for the next three years? It was like walking into a hotel room, impersonal and untouched by the hands of anyone who had ever called it home. But as he looked closer, he noticed the bed was made with crisp white sheets and a navy comforter, the desk had a laptop waiting for him, and the chair was ergonomic. It was clear that someone had put thought into making it comfortable, even if it wasn't homey.
"We're allowed to add our own personal touches" said Alex with a smirk. "I think they put your bags in the closet"
Avery stepped into the room, feeling the weight of the impersonal space. The starkness was like a canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of his life. He walked over to the closet, and sure enough, his bags were neatly stacked inside. He grabbed one and pulled out his favorite band t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
Something else tumbled out with the shirt: a white bra and some panties.
There was a note folded in half that as well, it tumbled out with the offending undergarments:
"Hey little sis *snerk* thought you might be needing these. Hey you never know"
Parker, he inwardly groaned, gritting his teeth.
"Ummm" said Alex, looking at the feminine undergarments.
Avery sighed. "My sister thinks she's funny"
Alex gave him a long look but nodded in the end before leaving the room.
Avery threw the bra and panties onto the bed with a huff, the note fluttering to the floor. He picked it up and crumpled it in his fist. He'd deal with Parker later. Right now, he had to figure out how to make this room his own without it screaming 'girl' to everyone who walked by. At least the blue walls would help some.
He got dressed in the t-shirt and jeans he pulled out earlier, feeling more relaxed already.
Marcus, Liam, and Alex were already in the common room when he emerged, their faces glued to the TV screen, controllers in hand. They barely glanced up as he entered, engrossed in their game. Avery grabbed a controller and sat down, his eyes focusing on the screen. The digital battlefield of Danger Zone was a welcome distraction from the real-life one he faced every day. The combination of his dormmates, other players and zombies was a welcome sight he'd been missing.
The game was a bloody ballet of strategy and skill, and Avery's hands moved deftly over the buttons, his eyes never leaving the screen. Marcus and Alex took turns casting sideways glances at him, their gazes lingering on the way his t-shirt clung to his body, the slight curve of his hips. Liam noticed, his smirk growing wider with every passing moment. It was like watching a cat toy with a mouse, unsure if it wanted to play or devour it.
"So, Avery," Liam said casually, pausing the game, "how do you deal with all the, uh, attention?"
Avery blinked, the controller momentarily forgotten in his hand. "What attention?"
Liam leaned back, his arms behind his head. "You know, the kind you get for looking like that," he said, his eyes tracing Avery's form.
Avery felt his cheeks burn. "Generally I ignore it. I tell people they're mistaken and if they don't believe me, that's their damn problem"
Liam nodded. "I can see that. But seriously, you gotta admit, you're pretty hot."
"Dude" groaned both Alex and Marcus at the same time.
"I'm sorry but he is" said Liam, shrugging. "If I was gay, I'd totally..."
"TMI dude" groaned Alex again.
Avery's face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment. "I'm not" he said then quickly added. "Gay I mean. I like girls"
He forgot to add to that that they loved him but not in any kind of romantic way. The girls at his old school kept forgetting he was a boy and kept trying to get him to join their social circles. The cheerleaders were the worse, pestering him constantly.
"Cool" said Liam with a nod. "Just giving you a heads up, man. You're going to turn some heads here"
Nothing new, he thought.
The digital chaos of Danger Zone consumed the rest of the night, the four of them rushed around as they competed for survival. Each explosion and zombie groan echoed in the room, the flickering lights from the TV casting eerie shadows across their faces. The only breaks they took were to grab fistfuls of chips and guzzle down soda. The sugary rush made Avery's heart race, mixing with the adrenaline of the game.
In between the frantic button mashing and shouted strategies, Avery felt the weight of their gazes upon him. Marcus' eyes would flick to his profile, his thumb pausing mid-chip. Alex's glances were quicker, like he was trying to catch Avery unaware. And Liam, ever the observer, had a permanent smirk as he studied him from his place on the couch. Avery tried to ignore it, focusing on the game, his mind racing with every new move and countermove.
The digital world of Danger Zone was a familiar and comforting distraction. The zombies were predictable, their patterns something he could study and overcome. It was a stark contrast to the real-world confusion that surrounded him. His thumbs danced over the controller, the smooth plastic a comforting weight in his hands. The sound of gunfire and screams filled the room, but Avery felt oddly at peace. At least here, in the land of pixels and polygons, he could be whoever he wanted to be without the constant scrutiny of his peers.
It being Saturday, they stayed up well into the night.
The sun had barely crested the horizon when Avery's alarm blared to life. He groaned, rolling over and slapping it into silence. His roommates were still dead to the world, snoring in a cacophony that was surprisingly harmonious. He threw off the covers, his legs swinging over the side of the bed. The cold air of the room kissed his bare skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He rose to his feet, the floor cool under his bare feet, and padded over to the closet. He pulled out the black shorts and t-shirt combo of his typical running outfit then tossed them on the bed.
He padded barefoot out of the room to their shared bathroom. He was up first so he got first dibs on the hot water. Stripping to his boxers, he couldn't help but look in the mirror. His light caramel skin and soft features a reminder of his mixed heritage and the pain his looks brought him. His hair had that natural curl that he tried desperately to get rid of with no avail.
Grunting, he stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes and let the hot water cascade over him, washing away his doubts and fears.
When he emerged, the foggy bathroom mirror reflected his ghostly image. He toweled off, the terry cloth rough against his skin, and pulled on his running gear. The material clung to him like a second skin, outlining the faint muscles he had worked so hard to develop. He knew he didn't look like the typical boy, but he wasn't about to let that define him.
The corridor was quiet, the only sound his sneakers squeaking slightly against the floor. He made his way to the stairs, avoiding the elevator and the potential awkwardness of being trapped in a small space with someone who might recognize him from the day before. The air was cool, the early morning light just beginning to filter through the windows.
The courtyard was serene, the fountain at its center gurgling quietly. Avery took a deep breath, feeling the crisp air fill his lungs. He set off at a brisk pace, the rhythm of his footsteps echoing in the stillness. It was his time to think, to plan, to escape the chaos of his new reality. He'd been running for years, ever since the whispers had started. It was his sanctuary, the place where he could outrun the doubts and the stares.
As he rounded the corner, the sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the red brick buildings. The leaves of the ancient oak trees rustled in the breeze, sending a shower of gold and crimson over the emerald lawns. Avery's eyes took in the beauty of the scene, his mind racing with thoughts of the day ahead. He had to find a way to convince everyone at Easton Prep that he was a boy, that he wasn't just some pretty face to be ogled or mistaken for a girl.
The path grew steeper as he approached the back of the school, the buildings giving way to a dense forest. His breath grew heavier, the chilly air biting at his cheeks. He pushed himself harder, the burn in his muscles a welcome distraction from the ache in his chest. The whispers of the leaves in the trees seemed to echo the whispers of his peers, their disbelief and confusion a constant reminder of his predicament.
As he neared the edge of the forest, he spotted a figure in the distance. It was a girl, running with the same determination he had. Her ponytail swished back and forth with each stride, the early morning light casting a halo around her. She was dressed in the school's standard-issue running gear, the blue and white blending with the shadows. Avery felt his heart flutter, a strange mix of excitement and apprehension.
He picked up his pace, the need to prove himself overwhelming. As he drew closer, the girl's features came into focus. She had a sharp jaw and high cheekbones, a stark contrast to his own softer features. Her eyes were closed, a look of concentration etched on her face as she ran. Avery felt a pang of envy. She looked so at ease in her skin, so unapologetically herself.
The girl, noticing his approach, slowed her run to a jog and turned to face him. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, giving her a wholesome look that made his heart race. Her ponytail bobbed as she offered a smile, her teeth gleaming in the early light. "Hey, you're new here, right?" she called out, her voice a melodious blend of strength and sweetness.
Avery nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. "Yeah, I'm Avery James," he said, trying to sound casual.
"Avery," Chelsea repeated, seemingly rolling the name around on her tongue. "I like it, its different, unique"
They continued to run side by side, their paces matching perfectly. Her blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes were a stark contrast to the muddy blonde curls and brown eyes he was used to seeing in the mirror. She had a friendly smile, the kind that made people want to trust her, and a body that could put any model to shame. Avery felt a strange mix of attraction and annoyance. Why did she have to be so perfect? It was like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him.
"So, what brings you to Easton?" Chelsea asked, her voice as bright as the morning light.
Avery felt his heart thump harder in his chest. "My parents," he replied, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. "They thought it would be a good opportunity for me."
Chelsea nodded. "Yeah, my parents were the same. They're big on the whole 'elite education' thing," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "So, what's your deal, Avery?"
Avery felt his cheeks heat up. "My deal?" he repeated, unsure of what she meant.
"You a politician's kid? A diplomat? An actor's maybe?"
He laughed. "Athlete's kid"
Chelsea raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? Which one?"
"Colton James" he said, waiting.
Her eyes widened. "No way, your Dad is a football legend?"
Avery nodded, a bit wearily. "Yeah, that's him."
Chelsea's smile grew. "Wow, no wonder you're out here running in the morning," she said, impressed. "So, what's it like, being the kid of a football god?"
"Tiring" he said honestly.
Chelsea giggled. " Try being Chelsea Raines for a bit".
Raines?
Wait...
"As in the Vice President of the United States?" he said, shocked.
Chelsea rolled her eyes. "The one and only," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you got it bad? Try being the daughter of someone who has a hand in everything, including what I wear to school"
"Don't wear uniforms. You're literally wearing the same thing as every other girl?"
Chelsea rolled her eyes. "My Dad is on the Alumni Committee, he was the one who spearheaded the uniforms"
Avery wasn't sure what to say actually. He knew Vice President Raines from the news. The man seemed a little tightly wound. He was a bit on the Conservative side for a Democrat and was big on family values and all that junk. Rumor had it he was gearing up for his own run for the Presidency in two years.
They ran around the rest of the school's vast campus together, sharing stories and laughs. Avery felt a strange camaraderie with Chelsea, as if she understood the weight of the expectations that came with their respective backgrounds. They talked about their parents' careers and the unspoken pressures they faced. Chelsea's stories of navigating the political landscape with poise and grace made Avery feel a bit less alone.
As they circled back to the dorms, Chelsea's eyes scanned the area. "I should probably get going," she said, glancing at her watch. "I'm supposed to meet some friends for breakfast."
Avery nodded, his chest tightening. "Sure, no problem," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. He didn't have friends to meet for breakfast, just the same three guys who had spent last night questioning his gender.
"Maybe I'll see you around?" Chelsea offered, her voice hopeful.
"Yeah, definitely," Avery agreed, trying to keep his voice steady. He watched as she sprinted off, her ponytail bobbing as she disappeared around the corner of the dorm. He took a deep breath, willing his racing heart to slow down.
The rest of the run was a blur. He couldn't get Chelsea's smile out of his head, the way her eyes had lit up when she talked about her love for photography. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn't just see him as a pretty face or the son of a football star. She had seen him as a person, someone with dreams and fears. He picked up the pace, his legs feeling heavier with each step. He had to figure out how to convince everyone else at Easton to do the same.
Back in the dorm common room, the other boys were up and eating cereal, their grunts of acknowledgment the only greeting he received. The smell of sugary oats and the sound of milk slurping filled the space, bringing him back to reality. He grabbed a bowl and a spoon, pouring himself a serving of the same cereal they were munching on. As he sat down at the table, the tension from the night before was palpable. Liam looked up from his bowl, his eyes lingering on Avery's chest. Marcus had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, while Alex pretended not to notice.
"Where you been?" asked Liam, transfixed.
"Just out for a run," Avery replied, trying to keep his tone even.
Liam's eyes narrowed, his spoon hovering over his bowl. "At this time of the morning?"
"Its the best time, dude" said Avery happily. "You should come some time, run off some of that weight there in the middle"
Avery poked Liam's belly with his spoon, causing the husky boy to turn the same color red of the shirt he was wearing.
"Hey, watch it," Liam said, slapping Avery's hand away.
Marcus and Alex laughed. They couldn't help but notice how much like a girl Avery had sounded and acted like just there.
"So, what's the plan for today?" Alex asked, his eyes never leaving the TV screen, where the latest football highlights played on repeat. "There's a game later tonight"
Avery groaned. "No football, please"
Marcus shrugged. "You gotta love the sport, man. It's like the heart of this school"
"You can't love the sport when its all there is at home" he said with a groan.
"Wait, wait" said Alex, a lightbulb seemingly going off. "So James is like for real, right? Your last name I mean?"
Avery sighed. "Was hoping to go a few more days but sure why not. Yep, I'm Colton James' kid"
Liam's eyes grew as wide as the bowl in front of him. "No shit?"
"Yes shit" deadpanned Avery.
Marcus spit out his milk, laughing. "Oh, man, your Dad is the shit!"
Avery rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said dryly, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the mess.
"No, I mean it," Marcus insisted, slapping him on the back. "You're like, a celebrity here."
"There are a lot of celebrities and celebrity's kids, here, dipshit" said Alex, rolling his eyes.
"But none as hot as Avery" Liam quipped, earning a smack on the arm from Marcus.
Avery rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his cereal, the sweetness doing nothing to curb his annoyance. "Can we drop it?"
Marcus and Alex chuckled, while Liam's smirk remained. "Sorry, man, we're just messing with you," Liam said.
"Yeah, but seriously, you're like the coolest person I've ever met," Alex added, his eyes still glued to the TV.
Avery just shook his head, his spoon clinking against the bowl. "Thanks, I guess."
They thankfully dropped the topic and went back to their cereal, the sound of crunching and the occasional laugh at the TV the only noise filling the room. Once they had finished, the trio suggested another round of Danger Zone. Avery's thumbs were already sore, but he didn't want to be the party pooper. He took his spot on the couch, his eyes glazing over as the digital zombies shuffled across the screen.
Halfway through their third match, Avery's phone buzzed with a text. It was from his sister, Parker.
"You survive the first night?" she texted with a winking emoji.
He groaned, still annoyed at her for her "prank". He excused himself and went into his room, where he called her number. As soon as she answered, he snapped: "What the hell, Parker?"
She giggled. "I see you found my pressie"
"Fuck you" he said, annoyed but amused nonetheless.
This was their relationship. Parker was six years older, currently in her third year of college. She was going into Sports Medicine, much to the thrill of their father and chagrin of their mother. Parker was gorgeous. When she was a teenager, she'd actually been scouted by a well respected modeling agency but tomboy Parker turned them down flat. She had no intention of being objectified and oogled by men the whole world over. Their mother didn't really like that but their father cooled things over.
While Parker and their mother had a rough relationship, he had a great one with his sister. His relationship with his Dad wasn't so good though. He used to have a great one with his Mom, until the overprotective parenting began. Not only that but he was starting to notice that his mother didn't correct people when they called him a "girl" in her presence, in fact she seemed to relish the idea of having two beautiful daughters. More than once, his mother tried to pick out outfits for him to wear that were "cute" and he even caught her trying to arrange an "accidental" meeting with her old modeling agency.
"You there, little bro sis?" she asked, using her annoying pet name for him.
He'd been zoning out. "Yeah, just thinking about how much you traumatized me yesterday"
She laughed. "Harmless fun"
"What if Mom saw them first?" he asked.
Parker cursed and apologized, knowing how crazy their Mom had been with him lately. "How has she been lately?"
Parker tried to stay at school as much as she could, her mother was too much to deal with. She avoided the woman whenever possible. She looked out for him too. In fact, it was ultimately Parker who convinced their Dad that Easton was the best place for Avery. In truth, it was one big attempt to get Avery out from underneath their mother's controlling thumb. Their mother protested of course but their Dad won her over.
"She's as annoying as ever" he admitted, glad he wasn't home right now.
"Well, at least she can't try to get you into a dress and heels there," Parker shot back.
Avery couldn't help but laugh. "Very true. So, what's your advice for surviving this place?"
Parker's voice grew serious. "Just be you, Avery. You're strong and you're smart. You've got this."
He nodded, taking her words to heart. "Thanks, Park."
"Anytime, bro sis," she said, the teasing tone back. "And remember, you're not just surviving, you're kicking ass."
Their conversation ended and he had a lot to think about.
"You okay, man?" Liam's voice asked from his doorway.
Avery turned, nodding. "Yeah, just talking to my sister."
Liam leaned against the doorframe, his eyes searching Avery's. "You need anything?"
Avery shook his head, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "Nah, I'm good."
"Great, then let's go kick some zombie ass!"
Liam's enthusiasm was infectious, and despite the early morning run and the tension from the previous night, Avery found himself smiling. They settled back into the common room, the glow of the TV washing over them as they picked up their controllers. The digital battlefield of Danger Zone was a welcome escape from the real-world drama waiting outside their door.
Monday morning arrived with the promise of a fresh start, but the moment Avery stepped into the hallway, the whispers began. He could feel the confused stares as he walked to class in the standard-issue boy's uniform, the collared shirt and tie feeling like a noose around his neck. The girls looked at him with a mix of curiosity and confusion, while the boys' eyes lingered a little too long. It was like being a celebrity, but in the worst possible way. The whispers grew louder as he passed, the whispers of "Is that a girl?" and "What's she doing?" making his cheeks burn with embarrassment.
It wasn't just the students either. Several teachers called him "Miss" and one of them, Miss Jackson, told him "they expected him to dress in the appropriate uniform tomorrow for class"
Avery felt like screaming. He was already feeling like he was in a prison, and now he had to deal with this shit. He nodded politely, biting his tongue so hard he tasted blood. He made a mental note to show her his email with the proof of his gender before she could do anything stupid.
The first few classes of the day were a blur. Avery felt like he was in a fishbowl, everyone watching him, analyzing him. He tried to focus on the lessons, but his mind kept wandering to the whispers and stares. It was like he was back in his old school all over again, except this time, the stakes were higher.
At lunch, the guys convinced him to sit with them at the "cool" table. The cafeteria was a cacophony of voices and clattering silverware, the scent of mystery meat and overcooked veggies hanging heavy in the air. As he sat down, the conversations around them hushed, all eyes on the newcomer. He took a deep breath, his heart racing.
"Don't worry, they're just checking you out," Marcus whispered, nudging him with his elbow. "You're the new kid, it's like a zoo in here."
Yes, they were checking him out, he thought, but not in the way Marcus was suggesting. Avery as already all too familiar with these types of stares. It was made even worse now because he was wearing a uniform like the rest of the boys and clearly everyone thought he was girl trying to protest the system.
As if on cue, a group of guys strutted over to their table. At the head of the pack was a tall, broad-shouldered boy with a smug smile and hair so perfectly coiffed it looked like it was painted on. He had the kind of good looks that made you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.
"Hey, I'm Tyler," he said, extending a hand to Avery. "Welcome to Easton."
Avery didn't take the hand. Nothing good was going to come from this. "I'm Avery" he said, trying desperately to ignore what was about to happen.
"Avery," Tyler repeated, his eyes sweeping over Avery's body with the same look that had been plaguing him since he stepped into the school. "That's a pretty name for a girl."
The room grew quieter as everyone leaned in, eager to hear Avery's response. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tensing. "It's a pretty name for a boy," he said, his voice firm.
Tyler's smirk slipped for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Is that right?" He leaned closer, his eyes raking over Avery in a way that made him want to squirm. "Well, you sure don't look like a boy to me."
Avery sighed. He was right, Tyler was going to be one of those. There were two types of people he tended to encounter. Ones who believed him when he told them the truth---like his roommates---and ones like Tyler, who no matter how many times you tried, they were just too dense to listen.
"Back off, man," Liam said, stepping in before Avery could say anything. "Avery's not into you."
Avery appreciated the help but he'd seen this too.
"Fuck off, fatty" snapped Tyler, not the least interested in what the hanger ons thought.
Liam's face grew red, but Avery put a hand on his arm. "It's okay, I can handle it," he murmured.
Tyler leaned in closer, his breath hot on Avery's neck. "You know, I've never been with someone as... exotic as you," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur that was meant to be seductive but came off as predatory.
Avery felt his skin crawl, his stomach turning at the way Tyler's eyes lingered on his mouth. "I'm not here to be 'someone's type,'" he said, his voice cool and even. "I'm just trying to get through the day."
"Oh, come on," Tyler cooed, his hand landing on Avery's thigh. "Don't be like that. I'm just saying you're hot."
Avery's grip tightened around his plastic fork, a warning pulsing through him. "I'm not a girl," he repeated, his voice sharper this time.
Tyler chuckled, his hand moving higher up Avery's thigh. "Well, you sure as hell look like one," he said, his voice a slick whisper. "And let's be honest, you're the most beautiful thing in this room."
There were two ways to deal with someone like Tyler and while the first way was failing, Avery was no longer reluctant to use the second. Especially as the jackass's hand moved further up his thigh. Without given it a second thought, he stabbed the hand with the plastic fork he was holding as hard as he could. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood but it would definitely leave a mark.
"Ow! What the fuck?" Tyler yelped, pulling his hand away. 'You psycho bitch!"
"Not a bitch" seethed Avery.
"You're gonna regret that," Tyler snarled, flexing his hand.
"Probably," Avery replied, his voice icy. "But at least I won't be the one who's wrong."
Tyler reared his fist back ready to strike when a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Mr. Hunter" said a cold and calculated voice.
Avery looked up to see the Deputy Headmaster, Mr. Thatcher, standing behind Tyler. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene.
"Is there a problem here, Mr. Hunter?" Mr. Thatcher asked, his voice cutting through the sudden silence like a knife.
Tyler's hand hovered in the air, his eyes flicking from Avery to the authority figure. "No, sir," he lied smoothly, his eyes never leaving Avery. "Just a misunderstanding."
Mr. Thatcher's gaze sharpened. "A misunderstanding, you say?" He glanced down at Avery's tense form. "And what's your name?"
"Avery James, sir" Avery replied, his voice steady despite his racing heart.
Mr. Thatcher's eyebrows shot up. "James? As in Colton James?"
Avery nodded, feeling the weight of his father's name like a boulder on his shoulders. The room seemed to hold its breath, the whispers dying down as the realization dawned on them all. The smug look on Tyler's face shifted to one of shock, his hand slowly lowering.
Mr. Thatcher was staring at Avery, taking in the pretty young woman before him. She was wearing a boy's uniform. This was the girl he'd been asked to seek out, the one violating the school rules. He had hoped that things were mistaken, especially now that he knew that she had such a high profile father. Causing issues with scholarship students was one thing but when the parents were rich and successful, it caused unwanted attention for the school. However, there was no way to overlook a clear infraction of the rules.
"Mr. Hunter, consider this a warning".
"Yes, sir" said Tyler as he and his cronies left.
Mr. Thatcher then drew all his undivided attention to Avery. "Now then, Miss James, I think you and I need to have a discussion in my office"
Avery felt his stomach drop. "It's Mr. James" he corrected, his voice a bit too loud for his own comfort.
Mr. Thatcher's expression remained stern. "Miss James," he corrected, emphasizing the 'Miss'. "Follow me to my office, please."
Avery swallowed hard, his heart racing as he pushed his chair back and stood up. The room was eerily quiet, everyone watching him with a mix of pity and amusement. He felt like a sideshow attraction, a freak who didn't know his place. He trailed behind the headmaster, his sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.
Mr. Thatcher's office was a stark contrast to the bustling cafeteria. It was a place of order and discipline, with bookshelves lined with leather-bound tomes and a large mahogany desk that dominated the space. The deputy headmaster's chair was like a throne, and the moment Avery sat down in the uncomfortable chair opposite him, he felt like he was on trial.
"Miss James," Mr. Thatcher began, his tone a warning. "I understand that you may have had some... confusion about your gender identity, but here at Easton Prep, we have a very clear dress code." He tapped a manicured nail on the edge of the desk, his eyes boring into Avery's. "And from what I can see, you are clearly in violation of it."
Avery's jaw clenched. "I'm not confused about anything," he said, his voice tight. "I'm a boy."
Mr. Thatcher leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Miss James," he said, his voice like a sermon, "it's clear that you're going through something. But until you provide the proper documentation to support your claim, the school cannot accommodate such... unorthodox behavior."
"There is proper documentation. I'm a boy. It says so on my transcript, my school ID, hell I can get you a birth certificate and..."
Mr. Thatcher's hand came down hard on the desk, cutting him off. "Miss James, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior," he said, his voice like a whip crack. "You're disrupting the harmony of this school."
Avery felt his temper flare. "I'm not the one causing a scene," he said, his voice shaking with anger. "You're the one making assumptions."
Mr. Thatcher leaned forward, his expression unyielding. "Assumptions? The evidence is quite clear, young lady. The school has rules for a reason, and when they are not followed, there are consequences."
Avery felt the blood rush to his face, his voice rising. "I'm not a girl!" he insisted, his fists clenching in his lap. "I don't know why everyone keeps... "
"Miss James," Mr. Thatcher interrupted, his voice cold. "Your insistence on this matter is becoming tiresome. If you wish to continue your education here, you will abide by the rules, including the dress code."
This was hopeless.
Avery knew that arguing with Mr. Thatcher would get him nowhere. The man was stubborn and blinded by his own biases. It was clear that no matter what he said, he would never accept the truth.
So, with a sigh of defeat, Avery nodded. "I'll wear the correct uniform tomorrow," he murmured.
Mr. Thatcher's expression didn't change, but Avery could see the victory in his eyes. "Very well," he said, his voice clipped. "I expect to see you in the proper attire from now on."
Avery nodded, the words "yes, sir" sticking in his throat. He stood up, eager to escape the oppressive office, but the headmaster wasn't done with him yet. "And Miss James," he called out as Avery reached the door. "I'd like to speak to your parents about this. Perhaps they can help clarify the situation."
Avery's heart sank. The last thing he needed was for his parents to be involved, especially his mother. But he had little choice but to nod again and leave the office, the heavy door closing behind him with a final thud.
As he walked out, Mr. Thatcher's secretary, a stern woman with hair pulled back into a tight bun, handed him a slip of paper. "Mr. Thatcher has authorized a voucher for you to use at the school store," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "You can get a week's worth of the correct uniform there."
Avery took the voucher, feeling the weight of it in his hand. It was like a ticket to a game he didn't want to play. But he knew he had no choice. He had to survive this week and hope that somehow he could convince the school to see him for who he was.
The school store was a small, cramped space filled with rows of crisp, starched uniforms, all neatly folded and arranged by size. The walls were lined with school merchandise, everything from pencils to sweatshirts, all emblazoned with the Easton Prep crest. The bell over the door chimed as he stepped inside, and the only other person in the store looked up.
Mandy, the attendant, was a bubbly blonde with a smile that could light up a room. "Oh my gosh, you must be the new student everyone's talking about!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening when she took in Avery's current attire. "Let me guess, you need a uniform change?"
Avery nodded, his cheeks reddening. "Yeah, I guess so." He handed her the voucher with a sense of resignation.
"Honestly, girl" gushed the hyperactive attendant. "We all applauded the effort but the school is way too suffocating to let you get away with it"
Avery felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he looked down at the neatly folded pile of clothes in his arms. The white blouse and blue plaid skirt looked like a prison sentence. "I guess so" he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You're going to need these knee highs" said Mandy, handing him a package of blue socks. "And some shoes.."
Her voice trailed off as she scanned the shoe section, her eyes narrowing as she took in Avery's sneakers. "You can't wear those," she said, her voice apologetic. "You'll need some flats or loafers."
Avery sighed, feeling the noose tighten around his neck. "Fine," he said, plucking a pair of sensible black flats from the shelf. They were the least offensive of the options available.
Mandy clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Great! Now, let's get you into the fitting room."
Avery's heart sank as he stepped into the small, stuffy space. The walls were lined with mirrors, each reflecting his embarrassment back at him in triplicate. He slowly removed his shirt and pants, feeling more and more exposed with every layer. The air in the room was thick with the scent of new fabric and the faint whiff of starch.
Mandy, with her perky smile and endless energy, was oblivious to his discomfort. She chattered away as she handed him one piece of the uniform after another, giving him instructions on how to wear each item like he was a mannequin in a department store. "Now, the skirt should sit just above your knees, but not too high!" she called out, her voice a little too cheerful for his taste.
Avery felt like he was in a nightmare as he put on the uniform. The blouse was tight around his chest, the fabric scratchy against his skin. The skirt felt like a prison, restricting his movement and making him painfully aware of every step he took. The socks slid on easily, but the shoes... the shoes were a different story. They pinched his toes and made him feel unstaggeringly uncomfortable.
When he stepped out, Mandy squealed and clapped. "You look so cute now!"
Avery felt his skin crawl, his reflection in the mirror showing a person he barely recognized. "Thanks," he mumbled, the word sticking in his throat.
"Something's missing though" said the girl then she smiled. "Oh I know"
She took a headband from one of the shelves and used it to push Avery's hair back.
"There," she said, her smile never wavering. "Now you look like a proper Easton girl."
Avery's reflection in the mirror was a lie, a mockery of who he was. The headband framed his face, showcasing his delicate features and long eyelashes, but it couldn't change the fact that he was a boy. He took a deep breath, trying to push down the rising tide of anger and humiliation.
"Super" he forced out, his voice strained.
Mandy nodded, pleased with her handiwork. "You're all set," she said, her voice as cheerful as ever. "You're going to turn heads, for sure!"
"Great, just what I always wanted" he said, sarcastically.
Mandy just giggled. She was one of those people who took things at face value and didn't really understand sarcasm unless it was spelled out for her.
Avery grabbed his old clothes and stuffed them into a bag, feeling like he was leaving a piece of himself behind. He left the school store, more embarrassed than ever. In the hallway, people were staring but there was no whispers or pointing. Wearing the "proper" uniform didn't make him stand out much anymore. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he tried to keep his head down, his heart hammering in his chest.
The rest of the school day was a blur of awkwardness and discomfort. He sat through classes feeling like he was in a cocoon of fabric that didn't fit right. Every time he had to move or stand up, the skirt felt like it was going to betray him, revealing his true identity. But as the hours ticked by, the whispers grew quieter. The novelty of the situation had worn off, and people seemed to accept his presence without comment.
When the final bell rang, Avery practically sprinted back to the dorm, eager to shed the hated uniform. His roommates looked up from their games as he burst into the room, his face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
"What the...?" Marcus began, his voice trailing off as he took in Avery's new look.
"Yeah, I know," Avery said, his voice tight as he tossed the bag onto his bed. "Mr. Thatcher had a little chat with me."
The three of them were silent for a few seconds before they burst out in laughter.
"Well, you do pull it off," said Marcus, trying to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, you're like a model," added Liam, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Avery rolled his eyes and let out a huff. "Thanks, but I'd rather not be anyone's fashion statement," he said, flopping down onto the couch in a way that was definitely not ladylike. The plush cushions groaned beneath him, and he felt the weight of the day settle into his bones.
He sat like a boy, his legs wide open, exposing his underwear to them.
Alex blushed. "Umm, you're..."
"Its boxers" Avery snapped.
The room was still for a beat before the laughter bubbled over, even from Avery. It was a moment of pure absurdity, a break from the tension that had been following him around like a storm cloud.
"I'm gonna go change now" he said, getting up.
"Can you at least give us a little wiggle and strut?" joked Liam.
"Bite me" he said, going into his room and making sure the door was locked.
Instead of changing right away, Avery went to the laptop and facetimed his sister. It took a few seconds but a moment later, her face popped up on the screen.
"What's up, little bro...sis?" she said, not paying attention at first but at the sight of him in the uniform, she was frozen in confusion.
"You cursed me" he said, annoyed.
Parker's eyes widened as she took in Avery's new look. "Oh my god, they actually made you wear it?"
"Yeah," Avery said, his voice muffled as he pulled the shirt over his head. "The Deputy Head is a real peach."
Parker's face grew serious. "That dick is still around?"
Parker had gone to Easton too. Before all this started, Avery had wanted a normal high school experience. He had refused his parents' offer to go to Easton Prep at first, deciding on their local public school instead. But after everyone there refused to believe he was a boy, it was as if they made the decision for him. Then Parker got involved, playing interference with their mother and the rest was just that.
"Apparently, I'm disruptive and in violation of the school rules" he said, using air quotes.
"You're not disruptive" said Parker, her voice firm. "You're just you, and they can't handle it."
Avery let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, apparently that's against the rules here." He slammed his fist into the pillow next to him, feeling the feathers shift and give beneath his hand. "Who knew that a boy dressing like a boy in this day in age was the wrong thing to do?"
Parker's expression grew serious. "Avery, you can't let them do this to you," she said, her voice firm. "You need to tell Mom and Dad. They can't just force you to wear a skirt and expect you to be okay with it."
Avery sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I know," he said, his voice heavy. "But what's the point? They're not going to change their minds."
Parker's eyes searched his face through the screen, her concern clear. "Maybe not," she said, her voice gentle. "But you can't let them win. You're not a girl, and you shouldn't have to dress like one just to make them happy."
Avery leaned back against the headboard, the fabric of the skirt scratching his bare legs. "I know," he said, his voice resigned. "But what can I do? I'm stuck here."
Parker's expression softened. "Look, I know you don't want to make waves, but this isn't right," she said, her eyes pleading. "You can't let them bully you like this."
Avery sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I know," he said, his voice muffled. "But what can I do? If I go to Mom and Dad, it'll just turn into a circus. You know how Mom gets."
"Oh God" said Parker, realizing. "If she finds out, she's gonna get what she wants. She'll go nuts in agreement with them."
"Exactly" said Avery "better I deal with this myself. Its just clothes. I hate it but its not killing me. If it gets out of hand, I'll deal with it"
“What about telling Dad then?” she asked, “he could clear it up quickly?”
“He’s not home right now” said Avery with a sigh. “No cell signal either”
Parker sighed heavily, her eyes reflecting her concern. "Okay, but if it gets too much, you promise to tell them?"
Avery nodded. "I promise," he said, his voice firm. "But for now, I've got to figure this out on my own."
They ended the call with a mix of love and frustration. He sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, before finally getting up and peeling off the uniform. The skirt fell to the floor in a pool of blue fabric, and he stepped out of it with a sense of relief. He pulled on his favorite t-shirt and jeans, the familiar comfort of his own clothes like a warm embrace.
"Hey, what's up?" Marcus asked as Avery entered the common room, his voice muffled around a mouthful of potato chips.
"Nothing," Avery replied, trying to keep his tone light. He couldn't hide the frustration in his eyes, though. "Just want to game and forget about the day"
They did just that too.
The next morning, Avery made a decision. If the school wanted to treat him like a girl, he'd play along. For now. He pulled out the bra and panties that Parker had sent him as a prank, the ones that came with the note that said "Hey little sis *snerk* thought you might be needing these. Hey you never know" With a smirk, he slipped them on. The material was surprisingly comfortable against his skin, and the socks he stuffed into the cups gave him a surprisingly decent profile.
Looking in the mirror, he couldn't help but feel a mix of anger and amusement. The absurdity of the situation was almost comical. But he knew that to survive, he had to give them what they wanted. So, with a deep breath, he stepped into the skirt and blouse, tucking in his shirt and adjusting the padding.
The socks in the bra were surprisingly effective, creating a chest that looked more like that of a developing teenage girl's than his own flat chest. He used the headband Mandy gave him yesterday and some clear lip balm to produce an illusion.
When he went out for breakfast, the other guys were already there and shocked.
"Whoa, you're really going all out, huh?" said Liam, his eyes wide.
Avery rolled his eyes. "It's just until I can get this sorted out," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You look... different," said Marcus, his eyes flicking down to Avery's chest before he quickly looked away.
"Its socks" he said, emphasizing his new bumps.
They all looked at him with confusion and a hint of admiration for his resourcefulness.
"I can't believe you're actually doing this," Alex said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Avery replied, trying to keep his voice from cracking. He sat down at the table, feeling the eyes of his roommates on him.
He finished eating and left the room to tackle the new day.
The halls of Easton Prep were filled with the usual murmur of early morning chatter, but as Avery walked through, something felt different. For the first time since forever, no one gave him a second glance. No whispers, no awkward stares. It was as if he'd finally become invisible.
The uniform that had been a prison the day before now felt like a mask, a shield he could hide behind. His steps were lighter, his shoulders less tense. He could be anyone, do anything, and no one would know the truth. It was a strange kind of freedom.
As Avery walked to his first class, he noticed the lack of stares and whispers. It was eerie, like he had finally become a ghost in the hallowed halls of Easton Prep. The teachers nodded at him, the same nods they gave every other student, and for once, he felt like he belonged. He remembered to sit down in a very dignified and ladylike matter, smoothing his skirt under his butt before sitting.
The classes went on without incident, the teachers calling him Miss James without a hint of doubt. It was weird, but he couldn't deny the relief that washed over him. It was like he had slipped into a different reality where he didn't have to fight for his identity every second. But as the day went on, the mask began to feel heavier, the socks in his bra a constant reminder of the lie he was living.
It got complicated too.
Right before lunch, Avery felt the pressing need to use the restroom. He'd been holding it in all morning, dreading the moment he'd have to confront the school's gender-specific facilities. He took a deep breath and started towards the boys' room, his heart racing. He had been to the restroom a few times before the uniform fiasco, and while it was never an issue, now it felt like a minefield.
"Hey, girl" said a voice as someone slipped their arm from his.
"Hey Mandy" he said, shocked by her sudden appearance.
"Oh, Avery!" she squealed. "You look so adorable today!"
Avery's eyes widened in horror as Mandy dragged him towards the girls' restroom. He tried to pull away, his heart racing. "No, Mandy, I need to go to the..."
"Its fine, this is the clean restroom" giggled Mandy "not like that one in the west wing, right?"
Defeated, he went into the girls' restroom with her.
The room was filled with the scent of floral soaps and the sound of giggling. Girls chatted and washed their hands, casting curious glances at the newcomer. Avery felt his face heat up as he tried to blend in, his heart racing as he stepped into a stall. The skirt felt like it was suffocating him, the socks in his bra a constant reminder of the lie he was telling.
He went into a stall because there were no urinals of course. He remembered to sit to pee, nervous and scared the whole time. After he flushed, he expected Mandy to be gone but she was waiting at the sink for him.
"You know, you'd look so much better with a little makeup" she said, holding up a compact.
Avery's heart sank. "Thanks, but I'm good" he mumbled, trying to escape the room.
Mandy's eyes lit up with excitement. "Come on, let me do a little something," she coaxed, holding out a small makeup bag. "It'll just take a second."
Avery hesitated, his heart racing. "I don't know about this," he said, his voice shaking slightly. But Mandy was insistent, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of playing makeover artist.
"Come on, it'll be fun!" she exclaimed, pulling him towards the mirror.
Avery's reflection stared back at him, a pale, slightly bewildered boy in a schoolgirl's uniform. He took a deep breath and nodded, deciding that if he had to wear the outfit, he might as well play along. Mandy clapped her hands with excitement and set to work.
"So, we're just going to do a natural look," she said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "A little mascara, some blush, and maybe a touch of lip gloss."
Avery swallowed hard as Mandy unzipped her makeup bag. It was a treasure trove of cosmetics, with colors and brushes that looked like they belonged in an artist's studio rather than a high school bathroom. She pulled out a mascara wand and leaned in close, her breath warm against his cheek.
"Close your eyes," she instructed, her voice bubbly with excitement. "This is going to make your lashes look so long and pretty!"
Avery took a deep breath, feeling the brush of the mascara wand against his lashes. It was an odd sensation, not entirely unpleasant, but definitely something he'd never experienced before. He could feel Mandy's breath against his cheek as she worked, her hands steady and sure as she painted on the makeup. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything, his mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous he must look.
"There, open your eyes," Mandy said, stepping back with a proud smile.
Avery looked into the mirror, his heart racing as he took in the sight before him. The mascara had indeed made his lashes longer, framing his eyes in a way that was... well, surprisingly nice. The blush added a bit of color to his cheeks, and the clear lip gloss made his lips look fuller. He didn't hate it, but he definitely didn't love it.
"You look gorgeous!" Mandy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Now, let's just add a little bit of eyeliner to make those peepers pop!"
Avery's heart was racing. He had never worn eyeliner before, and the thought of it was both terrifying and exhilarating. He nodded, feeling like he was in too deep to back out now. Mandy leaned in, her hand steady as she traced a thin line along his upper lashes. He felt the soft brush of the liner against his skin, and when he blinked, the world looked a little sharper, a little more vivid.
When she was done, she stepped back and studied her work with a critical eye. "Perfect," she said, her voice filled with satisfaction. "You look like a cover girl now!"
Avery couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. He'd never felt so... female before. It was a weird sensation, one that he wasn't quite sure he liked. But it was easier than fighting, easier than trying to explain himself over and over again.
Mandy, oblivious to his inner turmoil, took his hand in hers and practically skipped out of the bathroom, pulling him along like a child eager to show off their new toy. "Come on, I want you to meet my friends," she said, her voice full of excitement.
The cafeteria was a bustling hive of activity, with students of all shapes and sizes moving in a symphony of chatter and laughter. The smell of greasy food and industrial cleaning products filled the air, making Avery's stomach churn. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to be a part of this charade, but he didn't know how to get out of it.
Mandy's grip on his hand was firm as she pulled him through the crowd, her voice rising above the din. "Everyone, this is Avery!" she announced as they approached her table, her friends looking up from their lunches. "Isn't she just adorable?"
The girls at the table exchanged glances, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on their faces. One of them, a tall, athletic brunette with piercing green eyes, studied him with an intensity that made him squirm. Her gaze lingered on their joined hands before meeting his eyes, and Avery felt a flicker of something he couldn't quite place. Her smile was slow, and there was a glint in her eye that suggested she knew something he didn't.
"Hi," she said, her voice low and slightly amused. "I'm Luna."
Avery felt his heart jump at the sound of her voice. There was something about her that was... different. She didn't look at him the way the others did, with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She looked at him like she knew a secret, and it made him want to tell her everything.
"Hi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He tugged at his skirt, feeling ridiculously self-conscious. "I'm Avery."
Mandy's friends exchanged glances, some of them smiling, others looking a bit more skeptical. "Nice to meet you," said a bubbly blonde with a mouthful of salad. "I'm Brittany."
"This is Rachel," Mandy continued, gesturing to a girl with glasses and a knowing smile. "And that's Luna," she said, nodding towards the brunette who had greeted him earlier.
Luna's eyes remained on Avery, her gaze unreadable. There was something about her that made him feel like she could see right through him, like she knew he was a boy in a skirt. But she said nothing, just offered a casual wave as he took a seat next to her.
The conversation at the table was a whirlwind of gossip and giggles, and Avery felt lost in a sea of estrogen. The girls talked about their weekends, their crushes, and the latest drama, and he sat there, trying to find something to say that wouldn't give him away. His mind was racing, trying to think of something, anything that would make him seem like one of them.
"So, Avery," Brittany said, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. "What do you think about Tyler?"
"What?" he asked, half paying attention.
"Tyler" said Brittany again. "We saw him come onto you yesterday"
"Did you see me stab him with a fork?" he asked, annoyed.
The table erupted in laughter, except for Luna. She studied him with a knowing smile, a hint of amusement playing at the corner of her lips. "No, but we heard he's been asking about you," she said, her eyes never leaving his.
"Not interested" he said and meant it.
The girls giggled, and Luna's smile grew wider. "Why not?" she asked, her voice a playful challenge.
Avery felt his cheeks burn under the weight of their stares. "I just... I'm not looking for anything right now," he mumbled, hoping that would be the end of it.
But Luna wasn't so easily deterred. "Is it because he's not your type?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Avery felt the noose tighten around his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Its a simple question with a simple answer..." she said, a smile in her voice.
Thankfully he was saved by the bell.
He was the first one out of his seat. He needed to get away from these girls and especially Luna. He thanked them quickly for allowing him to sit with them and started away. He didn't get very far though before Luna was at his side. Wow, she was fast.
She leaned in close to his ear. "Mandy's right...you are adorable...for a boy"
She then blew into his ear and grabbed his butt before giving him a little finger wave and walked away.
The rest of the day was indeed a blur. Avery felt like he was living in a bizarre alternate reality where he was a girl, complete with a secret admirer in Tyler and a new set of 'friends' that were more interested in his appearance than his identity. When he returned to the dorm, his roommates couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in him.
"You're rocking the eyeliner, man," said Alex, his voice filled with a strange mix of amusement and admiration.
Avery rolled his eyes, slumping onto the couch in the common room. "It's not my choice," he muttered, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing.
"What's not your choice?" Liam asked, looking up from his video game.
Avery sighed heavily, dropping his bag to the floor. "The makeup," he said, his voice weary. "Mandy put it on me before lunch. Said it would make me look more...girly."
"So that's where you were then?" asked Marcus.
"Yeah, with Mandy's friends," said Avery, his voice flat.
The room grew quiet as the guys took in the information. The curiosity in their eyes was palpable.
"You've got to be kidding me," Liam said finally, setting down his controller. "They put makeup on you?"
He shook his head. "Mandy did that before in the girls' restroom"
Alex's eyes widened. "You went into the girls' restroom?"
"Not by choice," Avery grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. The makeup was starting to smear, and he just wanted to wash it all off. "But yeah, I had to go, and she didn't give me much of a choice."
Marcus leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "What's it like in there?"
Avery groaned. "It's a bathroom, Marcus."
"Is it pink?"
He sighed and nodded. "Smells better too"
The room erupted in laughter, and Avery couldn't help but chuckle along with them, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. It was a small victory, turning the situation into a joke that they could all share. But as the laughter died down, he felt the weight of his situation settle back over him like a heavy blanket.
They spent the rest of the day laughing and gaming.
The rest of the week that followed was a peculiar blend of normalcy and unease. Avery found himself drawn into the social whirlwind that was Mandy's group of friends. They accepted him with a curious warmth, sharing their stories of crushes and school dramas, while he tried his best to blend in. He found that the makeup and the uniform made the masquerade easier, but every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection, he was reminded of the lie he was living.
Luna remained a puzzle. Her eyes held a knowing glint that made Avery's heart race every time she looked at him. He couldn't tell if she saw through his disguise or if she was just playing along, enjoying the game. Her occasional teases and touches were both thrilling and terrifying, leaving him feeling vulnerable and confused. Despite his efforts to maintain a firm stance on his identity, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to let go, to see where this twisted path might lead.
The weekend brought a semblance of relief from the school's watchful eyes. Avery took to his running routine again, eager to shed the layers of makeup and the suffocating skirt. Saturday morning dawned crisp and cool, the perfect weather for a run. He laced up his sneakers and headed out, hoping the exercise would clear his head.
As he pounded the pavement, the sound of his shoes echoing through the quiet streets, he spotted a familiar figure up ahead. Chelsea, with her unmistakable athletic grace, was jogging in the opposite direction. She had her earphones in, her ponytail bobbing in time with her stride. Avery felt a mix of excitement and dread. He needed to talk to her, to get some advice, but he wasn't sure how to explain his situation without revealing his secret.
Their eyes met, and she stopped, pulling out her earphones with a smile. "Hey, Avery!" she called out, her voice carrying over the silence of the early morning.
Avery slowed to a jog, then a walk, as he approached her. "Hey, Chelsea," he said, trying to sound casual.
They decided to run together, sharing small talk and their week in school. He didn't address the elephant in the room and it was kind of nice to hang with her without spilling his thoughts. They parted new the girls' dorm building and he ran back to the boys.
The weekend passed in a blur of homework and gaming with his roommates. Avery avoided the mirror, not wanting to face the girl staring back at him. But every time he stepped out of the shower, the sight of his bare chest and he himself staring, wondering. As soon as he thought about it though, he cursed. What the hell was going on with him. he thought, confused.
The next two weeks passed by with surprising ease. Avery found himself slipping into the routine of being 'Miss James' during the day and the 'girl' with Mandy's friends. It was like living a double life, but the more he did it, the more natural it felt. He'd walk the halls in his skirt and makeup, nodding and smiling at the whispers that followed him.
The gaming nights with the guys remained a sanctuary, a place where he could be himself without the watchful eyes of the school or the prying curiosity of Mandy's friends. They had accepted him without question, and their camaraderie was something he cherished. It was the one thing that kept him grounded amidst the confusion that was becoming his daily life.
On one such night, as the digital battles raged on their screens, Marcus looked over at him with a knowing smile. "You know, you're pretty good at this," he said, impressed.
"The game, yeah, I've been playing for awhile" said Avery, confident in his skills.
Marcus shook his head. "Not the game....the girl thing"
Avery paused the game and looked at his friend. "I'm not being a girl right now though"
"You sure about that?" asked Liam, pointing.
Avery looked down at his legs. He had indeed crossed them at the knee, a pose that was decidedly feminine. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the skirt ride up slightly. "It's just... comfortable," he mumbled, trying to ignore the way the fabric clung to his legs.
He hadn't even realized it but he was still wearing his uniform too.
"Maybe it's more than just comfortable," said Alex, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "Maybe you're starting to like it."
Avery shot him a glare. "I'm not," he said firmly, but the protest felt hollow. He had to admit, there was something about the way the skirt felt, the way the fabric brushed against his skin, that was... nice. But that didn't mean he liked it. It was just... different.
"Guys, I'm not into this," he said, trying to sound more assertive than he felt.
"C'mon, Ave," Liam said, his eyes not leaving the screen. "You're playing it off pretty well. Maybe you're just a natural."
He wanted to argue but instead he just shrugged.
The weekend rolled around, and Avery's heart sank when Mandy caught up to him on the way back from his run with Chelsea. She had a determined glint in her eye and a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Hey, Ave," she said, her voice full of cheer. "You're coming shopping with us today!"
"Shopping?" he repeated, his voice filled with dread. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Mandy's smile didn't falter. "It'll be fun," she insisted, looping her arm through his. "You need some clothes that don't look like you took them from your brother's closet"
"I don't have a brother" he said.
"That's even worse" she groaned.
Mandy's grip on his arm was firm, and before he knew it, he was being dragged towards the school van, filled with giggling girls dressed in their weekend best. He'd never felt so out of place in his life.
The mall was a maze of lights and music, a stark contrast to the quiet halls of Easton Prep. Avery felt his heart racing as they approached the first store, a trendy boutique that screamed 'girl'. Mandy practically pushed him through the doors, her eyes alight with excitement. "You're going to love this place," she said, her voice a whirlwind of enthusiasm.
The racks were filled with clothes that looked like they belonged in a fashion magazine, not on a boy who'd rather be in jeans and a t-shirt. Avery felt the eyes of the other shoppers on him, watching him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. He tried to shrink into the background, but with Mandy's loud voice and the attention-grabbing clothes she held up for him to try on, it was impossible.
"Come on, Ave," she cooed, holding up a frilly dress that looked like something a five-year-old would wear to a tea party. "This would look adorable on you!"
"Mandy, she's not five" said Luna appearing out of nowhere, Mandy pouted.
"She's also not your doll" said Rachel, coming from a different side.
Mandy sighed dramatically. "You guys are no fun," she said, but her grip on Avery's arm didn't loosen. "Fine, no dresses," she conceded. "But you need to update your wardrobe. You can't keep wearing those sloppy t-shirts and oversized jeans every day when you're not in class"
Avery felt a knot form in his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention in a place like this. But he also knew that if he didn't play along, Mandy would never let it go. So, with a deep breath, he allowed her to lead him to the next rack, filled with clothes that were slightly less...girly.
As they picked through the clothes, Luna hovered nearby, watching him with a thoughtful expression. He couldn't read her, and it was driving him crazy. Was she judging him? Did she think he was playing a game?
When Mandy had filled his arms with enough garments to fill a small closet, she turned to Luna. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice hopeful.
Luna looked him over, her eyes lingering on his face before sweeping down to the pile of clothes. "I think Avery should wear what makes her comfortable," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle.
Avery's eyes snapped to hers, the 'her' stinging. But she gave him a small wink, and he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe she was on his side. "Thanks," he murmured, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Mandy pouted. "But these are all so cute!"
Luna decided to compromise. "Ok, you can pick two cute outfits but Avery gets to pick the rest"
Mandy huffed but nodded. "Fine, two"
Avery felt a wave of relief wash over him. He picked out a few outfits that were more his style - a couple of gender neutral t-shirts and several pair of skinny jeans that didn't make him feel like he was wearing a costume. Luna hovered nearby, offering silent nods of approval for some choices and subtle shakes of her head for others. It was strange, but he found himself valuing her opinion.
As they moved to the changing room, Avery felt his anxiety spike. The idea of stripping down in front of these girls, even with the privacy of a curtain, was mortifying. But Mandy was already in the stall next to him, chattering away about her weekend plans, and he didn't want to disappoint her. He took a deep breath and stepped into his stall, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
The first outfit was a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He slipped them on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. These were his clothes, his style. He looked in the mirror and saw a glimpse of the boy he was, the boy he missed. He took a deep breath and stepped out to show the others.
Mandy's eyes lit up. "Oh my god, you look amazing!" she squealed, grabbing his hands and spinning him around.
Avery blushed, looking down at his outfit. It was simple, but it felt right. The jeans hugged his hips without being too tight, and the t-shirt was loose enough to hide the padding. He glanced at Luna, who gave him a genuine smile. "Much better," she said, nodding her approval.
Mandy had chosen a second outfit, a crop top and a skirt that was a little too short for Avery's comfort. He swallowed hard and stepped into the stall. As he changed, he heard the girls whispering outside.
"You look great, girl" said Brittany, her ditzy enthusiasm dwarfed only by Mandy's.
Avery nodded, not trusting his voice. He felt the skirt's fabric brush against his legs again, and was confused. He should hate this but he surprisingly didn't.
Luna nudged him. "You don't hate that" she said with a knowing smile.
"Yes I do" he lied, even crossing his arms to sell it.
"You like looking cute and girly" she whispered in his ear.
"I don't," he protested, but the words didn't hold much conviction.
"Don't lie to yourself, Avery," Luna said softly. "You're playing a part, but it's okay to enjoy some parts of it."
Her words hit him like a ton of bricks. He had been trying so hard to resist the pull of this new identity that he hadn't allowed himself to consider that maybe, just maybe, there were aspects of it that didn't suck. The skirt was still uncomfortable, but the way the fabric swished around his legs as he walked had a certain appeal. And the eyeliner? He had to admit, it made his eyes pop.
As they moved from store to store, Avery found himself becoming more comfortable with the situation. He even started to enjoy the feeling of trying on different outfits, seeing how they transformed him in the mirror. Luna remained by his side, offering guidance and support, her knowing smiles and gentle touches sending a warmth through him that he hadn't felt in weeks.
In the last store, Luna handed him a little red dress. "This one now" she said with a big smile.
Avery's eyes widened in horror. "There's no way I'm wearing that"
"Why not?" Luna asked, holding the dress against his body. "It'll look amazing on you."
"It's too...girly," Avery protested, his voice high-pitched.
Luna raised an eyebrow. "And what's wrong with that?"
He couldn't argue with it so he took the dress and went into the changing room. He changed into it quickly and stepped out.
The room went silent.
Avery looked at himself in the mirror, the red dress hugging his slender frame, the hem ending just above his knees. The neckline was modest, but the way the fabric clung to his chest made his heart race. He felt...pretty. The color made his brown eyes not seem so dull, and the way it swished when he turned made him feel like he was in a music video.
"Perfect" Luna said, wrapping an arm around his waist. "You can wear that on our date"
Avery's cheeks turned redder than the dress. "Date?"
Luna's eyes twinkled. "Yeah, you know, dinner, movie, the works. I've got a feeling we'd make a pretty good couple."
Avery's heart stopped. Date? With Luna? He had never even considered the possibility, and the thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.
"What do you think, girls?" Luna called out to the others, who had gathered around.
They all nodded and murmured their agreement. "It looks great on you, Ave," said Rachel, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
Avery felt his heart racing. A date with Luna? It was the last thing he'd expected. He looked around the group, searching for a way out of this situation. But their smiles were too wide, their eyes too hopeful. He knew he couldn't disappoint them. "I...uh...I guess," he stuttered, trying to play it cool.
"Great I'll pick you up at seven tonight" said Luna confidently.
"A dress like that will need heels" said Mandy and she was off to get some before he could protest.
"I don't know how to walk in heels" he said to no one in particular.
"Its easy" said Brittany happily. "I'll show you"
The ride back to the school was filled with squeals of excitement and chatter about makeup and hair. Avery felt like a doll being dressed up for a playdate. When they reached the dorms, Mandy led him into their common room, where Brittany got a pair of heels that looked like torture devices.
"Okay, stand up straight," she instructed, her voice serious. "And just...walk."
Avery took a tentative step forward, the heels feeling like they were going to topple him over at any moment. He stumbled, and the girls gave him support.
"Just lean back a bit," Brittany said, her grip firm on his elbow. "You're walking like you're about to fall forward."
Avery took a deep breath and adjusted his stance, trying to balance on the stilettos that felt like they were made of pure evil. He took a few wobbly steps, and the girls erupted into giggles. It was embarrassing, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the novelty of it all.
"You're doing great," Brittany encouraged, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just keep practicing."
Avery nodded, his cheeks burning as he took another step. The heels weren't just uncomfortable; they were a declaration of his feminine identity that he wasn't ready to make. Yet here he was, swaying awkwardly in a room full of girls who thought he was one of them. He took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, trying to channel the confidence he saw in Luna's stride when she wore heels.
The girls watched him with a mix of amusement and encouragement. Rachel clapped her hands together. "You're a natural!" she exclaimed, while Mandy held up a phone to record his clumsy attempts. Despite the embarrassment, Avery couldn't help but feel a strange sense of belonging. It was as if they were all in on a secret that the rest of the school didn't know.
With each step, he grew a little more comfortable in the heels. They weren't as horrific as he'd imagined, though the thought of wearing them for an entire evening was daunting. "You've got this," Luna assured him, her voice a gentle whisper in his ear. Her hand rested lightly on his lower back, guiding him as he practiced.
Eventually he got the hang of it.
By the time they were done, Avery was able to walk in the heels without wobbling too much. His ankles hurt and his feet felt like they were being stabbed with tiny knives, but he managed a small victory lap around the room. The girls clapped and cheered, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could do this, like he could wear the dress and the heels and go on the date with Luna and maybe, just maybe, find a way to tell her the truth without losing her friendship.
But when he got back to the dorm and faced his roommates, the reality of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He took a deep breath and announced, "Guys, I've got a date tonight, so I'm going to have to miss the game session."
The room went silent, the only sound the distant echo of a video game battle. Marcus looked up from his controller, his eyes wide. "Wait, what?"
"I've got a date," Avery repeated, trying to sound nonchalant. "With Luna."
The room remained silent for a beat too long before the explosion of praise from his roommates.
"Bro, you're scoring with Luna?" Marcus exclaimed, slapping him on the back.
"That's the hot tall one, right?" asked Liam, still confused.
"Yes," Avery sighed, "and I've got to wear the dress she picked out."
The room erupted in a mix of laughter and congratulations. "Way to go, Ave!" said Alex, slapping him on the back a bit too hard. "You're going to crush it!"
"A dress though?" questioned Liam, still confused.
Avery nodded, feeling his cheeks burn. "Yeah, a dress."
Marcus leaned in, his grin widening. "So, what's the plan, man?"
"No idea" he said truthfully. "She asked me and I accepted"
"So in other words, you're the chick tonight" said Liam with a laugh.
Avery shot him a glare. "I'm not the chick"
"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," Liam said, chuckling. "You're going on a date with a girl, dressed like one and she asked you out. It's like a role reversal, right?"
Avery rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile. "I guess you could say that," he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "But I'm still a guy."
"Yeah, but you're a guy in a dress," Alex teased, his laughter echoing in the room.
Avery threw a pillow at him, which only made the situation more absurd. "Shut up," he said, his smile betraying his nerves. "I'm not looking forward to it."
"Then why agree to it then?"
"I kinda like Luna"
"Yeah, she's cool" said Marcus, "but you do know she's into girls, right?"
Avery froze. "What?"
Marcus shrugged. "She's a lesbian, man. Everyone knows she's into girls."
Avery's heart sank. He hadn't considered that. Luna had been so accepting, so kind to him, that he hadn't thought about her preferences. "I...I didn't know," he murmured, his cheeks flushing.
"So then you're ok with being a girl with her to date her?" asked Liam, his curiosity piqued.
Avery looked down at the dress laid out on his bed, the red fabric seeming to pulse with a life of its own. He took a deep breath and nodded. "I guess so," he murmured. "If that's what it takes to be with her, then yeah."
He thought about Luna's smile, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about fashion and makeup. He thought about the gentle way she'd touched his face in the store, the way she'd whispered encouragement when he'd stumbled in the heels. He'd never felt so seen, so understood, by anyone before. And if that meant being 'Miss James' for her, then maybe it wasn't so bad.
Avery took another look at the dress. It was beautiful, really. He'd always admired the way girls could pull off outfits like this, the confidence they had in their femininity. And now, he had a chance to experience that for himself. For Luna.
"Now get out of here so I can put that on, she'll be here soon" he shooed them out of the room.
The door clicked shut, leaving Avery alone with his thoughts and the crimson dress. He approached the garment with a mix of excitement and trepidation, his fingertips grazing the soft fabric. With trembling hands, he slipped it over his head, the cool material sliding down his body like a whispered secret. He stepped into the heels, the height making him wobble slightly.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt a strange mix of emotions. The dress fit him like a glove, accentuating his curves and making him feel...different. He stared at his reflection, the person staring back at him not quite the same as the one he saw every morning. The dress was a mask, a costume, but it was also a part of him he hadn't allowed himself to explore.
Luna arrived promptly at seven, dressed in a sharp black dress that made her look like she'd just stepped out of a magazine. Her eyes widened when she saw Avery, a smile playing on her lips. "Wow," she said, taking him in. "You look...stunning."
Avery's cheeks burned as he took her in. He couldn't believe she thought he looked good in this getup. "Thanks," he mumbled, feeling the dress constrict his movements.
They left the dorm, the heels clicking against the pavement with every step. Avery's ankles felt like they were on fire, but he tried to keep up with Luna's long, confident strides. The dinner was at a fancy restaurant that was a stark contrast to the fast food joints he was used to. The smell of garlic and fine wine filled the air, making his stomach growl.
Luna held his hand as they walked in, and the hostess greeted them with a knowing smile. "Table for two," she said, her eyes flickering over Avery's dress and heels. He felt his heart race, expecting the world to come crashing down around him at any moment. But no one batted an eye. They were just another couple out for a night on the town.
Dinner was a blur of small talk and awkward glances. Avery picked at his food, his stomach a knot of nerves. He knew he had to tell her, but every time he opened his mouth, the words got stuck in his throat. The weight of his secret was crushing him, making it hard to breathe.
After dinner, Luna suggested they take a walk through the park. The cool evening air was a welcome relief from the stuffy restaurant, and Avery felt his nerves begin to unravel. They strolled along the path, the moon casting long shadows across the grass. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the occasional laugh or shared glance.
As they approached a small pond, Luna turned to him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "So, Avery," she said, her voice a low purr. "Are you going to tell me the real reason you were so nervous tonight?"
Avery felt his heart skip a beat. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.
Luna's smile grew wider. "I know you're not a girl, Avery," she said, her voice gentle. "I've known since the first time I saw you."
The words hung in the air like a bomb that had just been diffused. Avery's eyes widened in shock. "What?"
He remembered their first meeting and how afterward she blew into his ear and grabbed his butt. She called him an "adorable boy" back then but he swore he misheard her.
"I know you're not a girl," she repeated, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
Avery felt his knees wobble, the weight of his secret suddenly heavier than the heels on his feet. "How?" he managed to croak out.
"It's all in the way you move," Luna said with a wink. "You're too... carefree to be a girl trying so hard to be a boy. But I've seen that look before. The look of someone who's not quite sure who they are yet."
Avery felt a mix of relief and fear. He'd been found out, but she wasn't disgusted or repulsed. She was smiling at him, her eyes filled with understanding. "But why... why didn't you say anything?"
Luna shrugged, her hand sliding into his. "Because I like you for you, Avery. And I wanted to see how you'd handle it."
Her words echoed in his ears as they continued walking. The pond's surface was like a mirror, reflecting the moonlight and the shadows of the trees. Avery felt a warmth spread through him, a warmth that was more than just the relief of being seen.
"But why me?" he asked, his voice a little shaky. "I mean, why go through all this trouble?"
Luna's smile softened. "Because you're special, Avery. You're the first person at this school who's ever made me feel like I'm not the only one with secrets. And I wanted to help you explore yours."
They reached the edge of the pond, and Luna sat down on a bench, tugging him down beside her. Avery felt the cool metal through the thin fabric of his dress, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. "But I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Luna took his hand, her thumb tracing circles on his palm. "You don't have to know," she said gently. "You just have to be willing to try. To see where this takes you."
Avery looked down at their intertwined hands, the contrast of her smooth skin against his own. He took a deep breath, feeling the fabric of the dress brush against his chest with each inhale. "But what if...what if people find out?"
Luna leaned in, her eyes meeting his. "Let them," she whispered. "You're not hurting anyone by being yourself. And if they can't handle it, then they're not worth your time."
Her words were like a balm to his soul. Avery took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in his chest begin to ease. He looked up at her, the moonlight playing across her features, making her look almost ethereal. "You really don't mind?"
"Why would I?" she said, her voice a warm embrace. "You're still the same person I met that first day, the one who's kind and funny and a total badass at video games."
He blushed then she leaned in and kissed him.
It was a soft, gentle kiss, full of promise and understanding. Avery's eyes widened in surprise before closing, letting the moment wash over him. It was his first kiss with someone who knew the real him, someone who saw past the dress and the makeup to the boy beneath. It was liberating and terrifying all at once.
When they pulled away, Luna's eyes searched his, looking for any signs of regret. But all she saw was a flicker of hope and excitement. "You're amazing, you know that?" she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Avery couldn't help but smile. "Thanks to you," he murmured, his heart racing.
Over the next month, Avery and Luna grew closer, their bond strengthening with each shared secret and stolen kiss. He found himself looking forward to the moments when he could slip into the role of 'Miss James', the girls' school uniform becoming less of a prison and more of a playful costume. He started to enjoy the way his eyes looked with a bit of eyeliner, the way his skin glowed with a touch of blush. It was as if he'd been handed a new set of colors to paint his world, and he was eager to explore every shade.
The whispers and stares of his classmates no longer bothered him as much. With Luna by his side, he felt seen, accepted, even cherished. They held hands in the hallways, shared lunches under the shade of the giant oak tree, and whispered sweet nothings in the library's quiet corners. Avery had never felt so alive, so free to be himself. Or rather, himself and 'Miss James' intertwined into one person.
He started to pay more attention to his appearance, not just for Luna but for himself too. He experimented with different hairstyles and makeup looks, finding joy in the transformation that came with each stroke of the brush. His roommates had become accustomed to his 'girl mode', even offering advice on his outfits and helping him pick out the right accessories. The teasing had turned into a sort of camaraderie, a shared secret that brought them closer together.
As the days turned into weeks, Avery found himself slipping into the role of Miss James with more ease. The clothes, the shoes, even the way he held himself – it all started to feel less like a costume and more like a second skin. He still felt like a boy, but there was a part of him that enjoyed the allure of being seen as a girl. It was as if he'd unlocked a door to a room inside himself that he'd never known existed.
It was a strange turn of events from a couple of months ago when he started here.
One evening, as Avery sat in his room, staring at the mirror, he noticed something different. The reflection of Miss James didn't seem so foreign anymore. The makeup, the hair, the clothes – it was all a part of him now, a part that he was slowly growing to accept and even embrace. It was a liberating feeling, one that filled him with a mix of excitement and fear.
But with the approaching Winter Break, that feeling of liberation was tinged with dread. He'd have to go home to face his mother, who had no idea about his new life at Easton Prep. The thought of her reaction sent cold shivers down his spine. For long as he could remember, she made it pretty clear she thought her beautiful son should be her daughter. He fought it with every breath too. Now here he was, all but embracing the femininity she tried pushing on him.
"You okay?" Luna asked as they packed their bags for the break.
Avery took a deep breath, trying to hide the fear that washed over him at the thought of facing his mother. "Yeah," he lied, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Just dreading the drive home."
"Your mother I assume?"
He sighed. "I'll be playing right into her hands"
Luna looked at him, her eyes filled with concern. "You don't have to tell her everything," she suggested gently. "Just be you. Maybe she'll surprise you."
Avery nodded, trying to believe her words. The thought of going home to his mother, to the place where his struggle with identity had first begun, was daunting. But he had Luna, and that was something he hadn't had before. He had a newfound confidence in himself, and he was determined to hold onto it.
The last day of school came quickly, the hustle and bustle of students packing up their things and saying their goodbyes filling the halls. Avery felt a knot in his stomach, his heart racing as he thought about the long drive ahead. He'd packed light, mostly bringing clothes that were more 'Avery' than 'Miss James', but he had tucked the red dress away in the back of his suitcase, a secret treasure that held the magic of his newfound identity.
Luna hugged him tightly outside the school gates. "You'll be okay," she whispered in his ear, her breath warm against his cheek. "Just be yourself. That's all that matters."
Avery nodded, trying to absorb her confidence. As he climbed into the car that would take him home, he couldn't help but feel a pang of dread.
The drive was long and quiet, his thoughts racing as Long Island slowly gave way to Manhattan. He'd been so focused on surviving at Easton Prep, that he hadn't truly processed what it would be like to go home after finding himself.
As the taxi pulled up to his apartment building, Avery took a deep breath and stepped out. The doorman nodded at him, not recognizing the boy in the oversized hoodie and jeans. He hadn't even bothered to fix his hair, letting it fall into its natural waves.
The elevator ride up to the penthouse felt like an eternity. His mother's apartment was filled with the scent of her favorite flowers, roses and lilies, mixed with the faint smell of her perfume. As the doors slid open, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the marble foyer.
"Avery, is that you?" His mother's voice called from the living room.
He swallowed hard, stepping into the apartment. It was like stepping into a museum of his past, each room holding a memory of a time when he was just a boy trying to live up to her expectations.
"Mom," he called out, his voice cracking slightly.
His mother, a statuesque woman with blonde hair swept into an elegant chignon, emerged from the living room, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. She rushed over, her high heels clacking against the marble floor, and enveloped him in a tight hug. "My darling," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You're home."
Avery stiffened in her embrace, the scent of her perfume overwhelming. She pulled back to look at him, her eyes scanning his face. "You look... different," she said, her tone curious.
"I'm the same boy I was when I left" he said, keeping his voice steady.
Her gaze searched his, and for a moment, he was afraid she'd see right through him. But instead, she just nodded. "You've grown up so much," she said with a sad smile. "You're so beautiful."
Avery forced a smile, the knot in his stomach tightening. "Thanks," he mumbled, trying to ignore the way she emphasized the word 'beautiful'.
"Come," she said, taking his hand. "Let's go into the living room. I want to hear all about your new school."
Avery followed her, his eyes scanning the room. It was exactly as he remembered it, with its pristine white couches and gleaming chrome surfaces. The only thing that had changed was the addition of a few more framed photos of him, looking more and more uncomfortable in each one.
"Where's Dad?" he asked, weary that they were alone.
"At the airport picking up your sister" she said, waving it off like it was some untrivial thing.
He was glad Parker was coming home too, she was a great buffer.
Avery's room was a sanctuary of sorts, a stark contrast to the rest of the apartment's sleek and sophisticated decor. Posters of video game characters and superheroes adorned the walls, their vibrant colors popping against the dark blue paint. A large gaming setup took up a significant portion of the space, the console humming softly in anticipation of a battle royale. The smell of stale popcorn and the faint scent of his favorite cologne hung in the air, a comforting reminder of his true self amidst the confusion of Easton Prep.
It felt different now.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror that his mother had bought him for his sixteenth birthday. The person looking back at him was a mix of 'Miss James' and Avery James, a blend of the Easton Prep persona and the boy he'd always been.
The sound of the door opening made him jump, and he turned to see his father and sister entering the apartment. His father, a towering former linebacker with a gentle smile, looked at him with a furrowed brow. "Hey, buddy," he said, his voice gruff. He stepped closer, and Avery braced himself for the hug that was as much a part of their reunion as the awkwardness that lingered between them.
His father's embrace was tight, almost painfully so, but Avery could feel the love behind it. It was the kind of hug that said 'I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm here'. His dad was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. Avery's heart swelled with a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, his father would understand.
Parker, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy. She threw herself into his arms, her blonde hair flying around them like a tornado. "Oh my God, Avery," she gushed, her green eyes sparkling. "You look amazing!"
Her enthusiasm was a stark contrast to their father's stoic silence. Avery chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him. "Thanks, Parks," he said, ruffling her hair.
The dinner that followed was a tapestry of forced smiles and awkward silences. His mother's questions about his school life danced around the subject of his gender, and he could feel her eyes on him, scrutinizing every move he made. His father remained mostly silent, his gaze flickering between Avery and their mother, as if waiting for a cue on how to react. The food was exquisite, but Avery barely tasted it, his stomach a tight knot of anxiety.
When the dessert plates were cleared, Parker excused herself, her eyes flashing with a silent message. Avery followed her lead, his heart racing as he retreated to the safety of his room. She shut the door behind them with a soft click, and he let out a sigh of relief.
"Spill it," she said, plopping down on the bed with the enthusiasm of a puppy waiting for a treat. "What's been going on at school? Did you tell anyone?"
He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of Luna. "This is Luna"
Her eyes widened. "Wow," she said, her voice low. "You have a girlfriend?"
He blushed.
"Sort of," Avery corrected, his voice tentative. "It's complicated."
He opened his bag and held up the red dress. "You see, she prefers me in this..."
Parker's eyes grew wide as she took in the garment. "You've been... dressing up?"
Avery nodded, the words tumbling out of him like a confession. "Yeah, it started as a way to fit in, but... I don't know, Parker. It's like there's this whole other side of me that I didn't know existed."
Parker took the dress from him, holding it up to the light. Her eyes searched his face, looking for signs of regret or confusion. But all she saw was a spark of something she hadn't seen in a long time: happiness.
"Show me" she said, tossing the dress at him.
Avery's heart raced as he took it from her. He knew this was a moment of truth, a chance to show his sister the real him, the person he was becoming. He took a deep breath and began to change, his hands shaking slightly as he slipped out of his jeans and into the soft fabric of the dress. The feel of it against his skin was like a warm embrace, a reminder of the freedom he felt at Easton Prep.
As he stepped into the shoes, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The reflection was both foreign and familiar, a blend of masculine and feminine that was uniquely Avery. He turned to Parker, his heart in his throat.
"Heels too?" she asked, he nodded. She smiled. "Give me a walk"
With a deep breath, Avery strutted across the room, the heels clicking against the hardwood floor. He watched Parker's face, expecting shock or laughter, but all he saw was curiosity. She studied him, tilting her head to the side. "You look good," she said finally. "Graceful"
Her words were like a balm to his soul. "Thanks," he murmured, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "But it's not just about looking good."
Parker sat up, her eyes searching his. "What is it then?"
Avery took a moment to collect his thoughts. "It's... it's about feeling like I can be whoever I want to be," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "At school, I'm 'Miss James', and it's like... I can be both me and not me at the same time."
Parker nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I get it," she said. "It's like when I'm playing sports. I'm still me, but there's this part of me that comes out, this fierce competitor, that I don't get to show in other parts of my life."
Parker was on the volleyball and soccer teams in high school. Its one of the reasons why she was so keen to go into sports medicine. She definitely made their Dad proud. While he was still proud of Avery's track meets in middle school, it wasn't the football he wanted his son to play.
"But you know," Avery said, "it's not just a game for me. It's like...it's a part of me that I can't ignore."
Parker nodded, her gaze softening. "I know, Ave," she said. "And I'm here for you, no matter what."
A few days later, their mother proposed a shopping trip to the mall, an event Avery usually dreaded. But this time, it felt like an opportunity to show her who he truly was. He picked out an outfit that was a blend of Miss James and Avery: a plain white t-shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair of comfortable sneakers. It was a look that screamed 'I'm a boy who enjoys wearing makeup and pretty clothes'.
In the car, his mother chatted away about the latest fashion trends and what she had planned for the day. Avery listened, his heart racing, wondering if she had any idea of the battle he faced every day.
As they arrived at the mall, the smell of pretzels and the cacophony of shoppers greeted them. The lights were too bright, the music too loud, but Avery felt a strange excitement bubbling up inside him.
They started at the department store, his mother pointing out dresses and skirts that she thought would look 'simply divine' on him. His heart thudded in his chest as he tried to find the right words to explain that he liked the way they made him feel, but also that he was still a boy. He watched her eyes light up with every item she picked out, her excitement palpable. He knew she meant well, but it was hard to reconcile her vision with the reality of who he was becoming.
"Mom, you're doing it again" graoned Parker.
"What?" Their mother feigned innocence, holding up a floral dress.
Avery took a deep breath. "You're treating me like I'm a girl," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "I know you mean well, but I'm not."
His mother's hand paused mid-air, the dress hanging from her fingers like a forgotten thought. She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and concern. "But you would look so lovely in these clothes," she said gently. "I just want you to be happy."
He sighed, taking the dress. "One time"
The dressing room was a battleground of thoughts and emotions. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, the dress hanging loosely from his shoulders. The fabric whispered against his skin as he moved, the softness a stark contrast to the rigidness of his thoughts. He knew he had to tell her, but the words felt heavy in his mouth, like a secret too large to share.
Finally, with the dress on, Avery stepped out, feeling a peculiar mix of fear and anticipation. His mother's face lit up, her eyes scanning him with a hungry excitement that made him want to retreat. "You look... amazing," she said, her voice filled with awe.
Parker, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, gave him a knowing smile. "You really do," she agreed, her voice sincere.
Their mother's excitement grew, but Avery felt the weight of his secret growing heavier. "Mom," he began, his voice shaky. "There's something I need to tell you."
Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, he thought she already knew. "What is it, sweetheart?"
Avery took a deep breath, the words feeling like a confession. "I've been wearing dresses at school," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... I like it."
The room seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the distant murmur of the mall outside. His mother's eyes searched his face, a myriad of emotions flitting across her features. He watched her, his heart racing, waiting for the inevitable outburst or disappointment.
But she surprised him.
Her smile didn't fade. "Oh, Avery," she said softly, taking a step closer. "I've always known there was something special about you."
The words hit him like a wave, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of tears. "What do you mean?"
Her smile grew, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "You've always had a gentle soul, a softness that's not typical for a boy," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "I just wanted you to fit in, to be accepted."
Avery felt his walls crumbling, the fear of rejection slowly giving way to a sense of understanding. "But it's not about fitting in," he said, finding strength in his voice. "It's about being me."
His mother's expression grew serious. "And who is 'you', Avery?"
He took a deep breath, the weight of his identity pressing against his chest. "I'm your son" he said, with another deep breath. "But I think I'm also your daughter now too"
Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, Avery was afraid she wouldn't understand. But then she took his hand, her grip firm and warm. "I don't care if you're a boy or a girl," she said, her voice steady. "You're my child, and I love you."
She pulled him into a tight hug.
The fabric of the dress crumpled between them, the softness of it muffling his sobs. Avery felt his mother's love, the kind that didn't come with conditions or expectations, just pure and unconditional. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time, and it washed over him like a warm bath.
When they pulled apart, she held him at arm's length, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I just want you to be happy," she said, her voice trembling. "And if this makes you happy, then so be it."
Avery's heart swelled with love and relief. He had feared the worst, but his mother's acceptance was a balm to his soul. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
"But Avery," she began, her voice taking on a note of caution, "you know the world isn't always as understanding as we are."
He nodded, the reality of his situation setting in. "I know," he said. "But I can't keep pretending."
They spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, his mother carefully selecting outfits that she thought would suit 'Miss James'. With Parker at his side, they navigated the racks of clothes with a newfound sense of unity. She'd pull out something that was a bit too much, and he'd shake his head.
"You can't wear that to school, Ave," she'd say with a laugh, holding up a sequined mini skirt.
"Why not?" he'd shoot back, a playful glint in his eye.
"Because you'll blind everyone," she'd retort, her laughter echoing through the department store.
Their mother watched them with a small smile, her eyes misty. "You two," she said, shaking her head. "Always finding a way to make me laugh."
The salon was the final stop on their shopping spree. Avery's heart raced as he took a seat in the chair, the cool metal sending shivers down his spine. The stylist, a burly man with a gentle touch, explained the process of ear piercing, his voice soothing Avery's nerves. His mother held his hand, her grip tight but reassuring.
The quick pinch was over before he could even flinch, and when he looked in the mirror, a small stud sparkled in his ear, a symbol of his newfound courage. The pain was minimal, but the sense of achievement was immense. He felt a part of him that was hidden before was now out in the open, and it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
Back home, dressed in the midriff t-shirt and skinny jeans with the new pair of heeled boots, Avery walked with a newfound confidence. His stride was a little more deliberate, a little more graceful. The boots clicked against the marble floor of the apartment, a sound that was both strange and empowering.
"Avery," called his mother from the living room. "Could you come here for a moment?"
Avery's stomach flipped. He knew this conversation was coming. He took a deep breath, and with one last look at himself in the mirror, he stepped out of his room. His father sat on the couch, his expression unreadable. Parker lounged in the armchair, her legs crossed, sipping on a soda.
Their mother sat next to him, her hand in his father's. "Honey," she began, her voice gentle. "Avery has something to tell you."
His father looked at him, his eyes filled with confusion. "What's going on?"
Avery took a deep breath, feeling his heart race. "Dad," he began, his voice shaking. "I've been exploring my feminine side at school, and I like it."
His father's expression remained unchanged, his eyes searching Avery's as if looking for a clue to a puzzle. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice gruff.
"I've been wearing the girl's school uniform and makeup," Avery continued, his voice gaining strength. "And people at school, they think I'm a girl. And it's... it's kind of nice, you know?"
His father was unreadable. "And the school let's you do this?"
Shit. He didn't tell them about that.
"About that" said Parker with a laugh. "Funny story"
She quickly explained the whole thing with Mr. Thatcher and how he wouldn't listen to Avery when he tried explaining he wasn't a girl.
"Parker, Avery!" Their mother looked pissed. "You should have told us about this the moment it happened"
Parker gave her brother a smug "told you so" look.
The silence that followed was deafening. Avery could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway, each second echoing like a drumbeat in his ears. His heart thudded in his chest, the anticipation of his father's reaction almost too much to bear. But before the tension could snap, his mother excused herself, striding into her office with the poise of a woman on a mission. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Avery and his father in a taut silence.
Avery's eyes remained fixed on the floor, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He could feel his father's gaze on him, heavy and searching. "Miss James, huh?" his father finally said, his voice gruff. Avery nodded, unable to look up.
"I just want to be happy, Dad," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And when I'm Miss James, I feel... whole."
His father's expression softened, and he leaned back into the couch, stroking his chin. "I know you do, son," he said, his eyes never leaving Avery's. "But you need to understand that the world isn't as open-minded as we are."
Avery nodded, feeling the weight of his father's words. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he had to start somewhere.
The sound of the phone call from his mother's office was like a siren in the quiet apartment. Avery could almost hear the conversation in his head. His mother's voice, sharp and precise, demanding answers. The pause as Mr. Thatcher likely stuttered and tried to defend his actions. Then, the calm but firm assertion that this would not stand.
Twenty minutes later, his mother came out of her office, shaking her head. "The nerve of that prick"
"What happened?" Avery asked, his heart racing.
"That man is insufferable. First he tried to defend himself but when I pointed out that the school records stated you were in fact male, I made him check it himself. As soon as he did, it was almost like I could see the color drain from his face. The man changed his tune pretty quick. It was like he was bending over backwards to not piss me off and get sued. He's going to make sure the school is more accommodating to you in the future and assures me you can wear whatever uniform you wish going forward"
"He can do that?" Avery asked, shocked.
His father laughed. "If the school wants to keep getting our money and avoid a lawsuit, you bet your ass he will"
"Serves him right" said Parker smugly.
Their mother glared at her. "You're not off the hook for this young lady. Regardless of what your brother thought, you should have called and told us"
"No offense Mom but you would have jumped for joy knowing Avery was forced to be a girl".
Avery looked at his Mom. She didn't say anything because she knew Parker was right.
The month of Winter Break turned out to be a whirlwind of self-discovery for Avery. With his mother's surprising support, he was able to explore his feminine side without the fear of judgment or rejection. They went to thrift stores and boutiques, hunting for clothes that made him feel beautiful, and even picked out some undergarments that would help him feel more confident in his Miss James persona. The padding was a thing of the past, replaced by more authentic options that made the illusion more convincing and comfortable.
Avery's relationship with his father grew more complex, as the man grappled with his own expectations and the reality of his son's evolving identity. They had long, sometimes tense conversations about masculinity and the importance of being true to oneself. His father's protective instincts were strong, but Avery could see the effort he was making to understand and accept the changes. It was a work in progress, but the very fact that they were talking openly about it was a significant step forward.
Christmas was a surprising delight. The gifts under the tree were a mix of what Avery would have received before and what the new Avery might enjoy now. His mother had gone all out, wrapping up delicate lingerie and makeup sets alongside video games and new running shoes. His father had even bought him a pair of earrings, a small but significant gesture that spoke volumes about his growing acceptance. The family dinner was filled with laughter and love, the tension of the earlier days replaced by a newfound ease.
The New Year's Eve party was the ultimate test. Avery had never felt so nervous and excited in his life. He picked out a stunning black dress that hugged his curves perfectly, a pair of heels that made him feel taller and powerful, and meticulously applied makeup that highlighted his best features. His heart raced as he stepped out into the cold New York City night, his mother and sister flanking him like proud bodyguards. They watched the Ball Drop in Times Square and some drunk ass tried to kiss him before his Dad scared him off.
But it was the moment they were getting ready to leave that Avery felt the most vulnerable. The lights of the city reflected in his eyes, a silent promise of the challenges ahead. "Ready?" Parker asked, her voice filled with excitement.
She had agreed to drive him the whole way back.
The car ride was a blend of nerves and excitement. The city grew smaller in the rearview mirror, replaced by the familiar suburban sprawl that surrounded Easton Prep. Avery felt a mix of dread and anticipation in his stomach. What would the new semester hold for Miss James? Would he still be accepted? Would he find the same camaraderie and love that he had stumbled upon the first time around?
Pulling up to the school gates, the car's engine hummed in the quiet night. The buildings loomed large, the ivy-covered stones gleaming under the moonlight. Avery took a deep breath, the cold air a sharp reminder of the reality that awaited him.
Thankfully the school had allowed him to stay in the boys' dorm, roomed with Liam, Marcus and Alex.
Walking into the dorm room, Avery felt a mix of apprehension and excitement. The room was quiet, the only sound the occasional snore from one of his roommates. He set his suitcase down gently, not wanting to wake anyone. But as he unpacked his clothes, the reality of what was to come sank in.
"This place smells like BO and Axe bodyspray" said Parker, carrying one of his many bags.
"I told you you could wait in the car" he said, not really wanting her to meet the guys anyway.
"And miss my new baby sis's arrival at school"
"I'm not new" he reminded her.
"Boy Avery is not new but this girl Avery is definitely new" his sister reminded him.
"Whatever" Avery said, rolling his eyes.
Just then, the door to Alex's room creaked open, and he stumbled out, his hair sticking up in every direction. He squinted, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His gaze fell on the two figures standing by the couch, and his jaw dropped.
"What the..." he began, his voice trailing off as he took in Avery's transformation. The t-shirt and skinny jeans were simple, but on Avery, it looked like it had been tailored by angels. The makeup was minimal but enhanced his already delicate features. Alex's eyes darted to Parker, who was busy organizing the snacks she had brought from home. She looked up, a smug smile playing on her lips.
Alex's eyes lingered on Avery's breasts though. He was showing a bit of cleavage now.
"Well that's new" he said, causing Avery to blush.
"They're not real" said Avery after a moment. "Its something my mother bought to help sell the illusion."
"Wait you got a boob job!"
"They're falsies, idiot"
Parker burst out laughing.
"It's not funny," Avery said, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"Relax, I'm not laughing at you," Parker said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm laughing at the look on your face."
Just then, Marcus and Liam stumbled into the common room, their eyes widening at the sight of Avery. They had the same dumbfounded look that Alex had, but it was quickly replaced by one of admiration.
"Holy shit," Marcus breathed, his eyes roving over Avery's body with a newfound appreciation. "You look... wow."
"You did get me a present after all" said Liam looking longingly at his chest.
Marcus actually smacked him in the back of the head.
Parker introduced herself to the boys then drafted them into helping her get the rest of Avery's stuff from her car.
While they were gone, Avery took a moment to survey the room. It felt smaller, more confined than he remembered. The posters on the walls, the smells of cologne and dirty laundry – it was all so... male. He felt a pang of doubt, wondering if he'd made a mistake coming back here.
And then it happened. Someone was behind him, their arms wrapping around his waist like a vise. He gasped, his heart jumping into his throat. But before he could react, a familiar voice whispered in his ear, "Welcome back, Ave."
He played along. "I'm not sure who are but my girlfriend won't like you getting so close" he playfully quipped.
"I'm her friend" said the voice "She'll understand"
That was enough for him and he spun around to face Luna.
"Wow look at you" said Luna then her eyes darted to his chest. "All of you"
He giggled. "You like?"
"Very much so" said his girlfriend as she cupped one, giving it a squeeze.
"They're not real, I can't feel that" he said, slightly disappointed.
Luna pouted. "A girl can dream can't she?"
Avery rolled his eyes playfully. "And a boy can hope"
The first week back at Easton Prep was indeed interesting. Mr. Thatcher had called him into his office the first day, looking slightly embarrassed. He apologized profusely for the misunderstanding and assured Avery that he could wear whatever uniform made him feel most comfortable. Avery couldn't help but feel a sense of victory as the man fumbled over his words.
On the weekend, with Luna's encouragement, Avery decided it was time to tell Chelsea the truth. They met at the local coffee shop, the aroma of freshly ground beans and the hum of the espresso machine creating a cozy backdrop for their conversation. Avery's heart raced as he began to explain his situation, expecting shock or maybe even disgust. But Chelsea just listened, her eyes never leaving his, a look of understanding dawning on her face.
When he finished, she took a sip of her cappuccino, her gaze thoughtful. "You know," she said, "I had my suspicions." Avery's eyes widened in surprise. "But it doesn't change how I feel about you, Avery. You're still the same amazing person."
The relief washed over him like a wave. "Thank you," he murmured, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "It means so much to have you on my side."
School became pretty routine. He was just a girl like the rest of them, but there were still moments of confusion that made him feel like an imposter. The rest of the boys in the dormitory were very confused, but they had learned to keep their questions to themselves. The only one who remained utterly clueless was Tyler, who still hit on Avery every chance he got, even after it was known that Avery was dating a girl. It was bizarre, but Avery had grown used to it, using it as a sort of litmus test for his feminine disguise. If Tyler didn't suspect anything, then it must be convincing.
There were still a lot of obstacles for him to overcome. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to be a girl full time or just flip back and forth as he saw fit. There was still plenty of time to figure out those things in the future, right now he was finally happy just being himself.
The End
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
It was hard not to know him.
Brady had a face that looked like it had been sculpted by the gentlest of hands. His features were delicate, almost too fine for a boy of his age. His cheeks still had a hint of baby fat and his eyes, wide and expressive, could have been mistaken for a girl's. His mother often said he had an "innocent" look about him, but to Brady, it was just another reason why the older kids loved to tease him. They called him "Brady-girl" and "Pancake," names that in Middle School were like blood in the water.
Kids were cruel but Brady knew if he just kept his head down and tried not to stand out too much, he was safe. Even with the occasional teasing, most people just left him alone.
He did his best to navigate his day as usual. He kept his head down but when he was noticed, he took the usual jabs. He'd built up some tough skin over the years. While the name calling and teasing still hurt, it no longer made him cry like it used too. It also helped that his stepdad Ryan spent all last summer teaching him ways to defend himself. Ryan wanted to make sure that if Brady needed it, he could punch his way out of a fight.
At lunch, Brady bee-lined to the back of the cafeteria, where his two best friends, Chris and TJ, had staked out their usual table. Chris was tall and lanky, with a shock of red hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb since the start of the school year. TJ, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. Short hair, a bit of a scowl, and a reputation for being tough as nails. Her real name was Tara, but nobody called her that if they knew what was good for them. She'd been known to throw a punch or two when someone pushed her too far. They had been friends since kindergarten when TJ had stuck up for him against a bully.
They sat down, Brady setting his tray carefully between them. "Hey guys," he mumbled, trying not to decipher what slop passed for lunch today.
"Looks like Mystery Meat Surprise," Chris quipped, poking at his food with a plastic fork. His attempt at lightening the mood was met with a half-hearted chuckle from TJ.
She took a bite of her sandwich, eyeing Brady with a mix of concern and curiosity. "What's up with you?"
Brady shrugged. "Just the usual."
They all knew what the usual was of course.
"Who was it and where do you want me to make him hurt?" asked TJ, getting fired up, rearing for a fight.
Brady rolled his eyes. "No one. Just the usual."
Chris leaned in. "You know you can tell us if something's wrong, Brady."
Brady shrugged. What was wrong? He didn't know. Lately he had felt off. He couldn't quite place what it was though. He thought about talking with his Mom or Ryan but both of them had been real busy lately. Besides, he didn't want to bother them with his problems. His Mom and Ryan had just gotten married last year. Ryan was awesome. Brady's real Dad died shortly before he was born and he went nearly 10 years without any male figure in his life. When his Mom met Ryan almost three years ago, it was a bit awkward at first.
It was still awkward a bit actually. Brady didn't know how to really connect with Ryan. He was very close with his Mom. He had an older sister, Beth, but she was three years older than him and they weren't very close. Beth had her own things and spent most of her time doing after school activities, hanging with her friends or hiding in her room. He only ever saw her at meal times now. So the only person he really had was his Mom. When Ryan came along that changed a bit but both of them still tried to find time for one another.
He just wasn't ready to talk to her. Hell, he didn't even know what he wanted to say.
"Is Ms. Crane still on your butt?" asked TJ, mouth half full of sandwich.
Brady nodded, pushing his food around his tray. "Yeah, she thinks I need saving or something."
Mrs. Crane had always had a soft spot for Brady. She was a round, motherly type with a penchant for cardigans and a stern look that could melt the ice in any troublemaker's heart. Her office was a safe haven for many, a place where secrets were whispered and fears were soothed. But Brady had always felt a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny. She looked at him like he was a puzzle that she hadn't quite figured out how to piece together.
"What’s her problem anyway?" asked Chris, still poking his creepy food with a fork.
Brady shrugged. "She's a guidance counselor, it's her job."
TJ snorted. "My guidance counselor is cool, he lets me nap in his office."
Chris laughed. "Yeah, Mr. Brookes is pretty chill. He's got a sweet collection of comic books."
They chatted for a while about their favorite video game, the latest update on the school's Wi-Fi situation, and the mystery of what exactly was in the meatloaf. It was a welcome distraction from Brady's troubles. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the start of the final stretch of the school day.
He meandered his way through the rest of the day until he got to the end of it.
Brady's heart sank as he saw the note passed to him by the teacher as he left the classroom. It was the same message he'd received earlier that week. "Please see Mrs. Crane in her office after last period." It was like a knot in his stomach, a reminder that he couldn't outrun the conversations that he'd been avoiding.
"Dude, you okay?" Chris had noticed Brady's face drop.
The two of them had their last class together. As they filed out of the room together, Brady groaned.
"Mrs. Crane again," he said, showing his friend the note.
Chris nodded. "You can tell us about it tomorrow," he said, clapping Brady on the back.
Brady took a deep breath and headed to Mrs. Crane's office. As he approached, the familiar scent of cinnamon candles and potpourri greeted him. Mrs. Crane had a comfy, cozy office, with a big, squishy chair that was his favorite spot to sit when they talked. There were always cookies on her desk, and she had a way of making him feel a bit better with just a few words and a warm smile.
He stepped inside, and she looked up from her paperwork, her eyes lighting up with a gentle smile that always made him feel seen. "Ah, Brady," she said, gesturing to the chair, "just the young man I was expecting. How was your day?"
He shrugged, taking his usual seat. Mrs. Crane knew all too well about his "usual" days. She had been his guidance counselor since the start of fifth grade, when the teasing had turned from playful banter into something more sinister. She had seen him through his darkest moments, had watched him shrink into himself like a turtle retreating into its shell. She meant well, but her insistence on pushing him into activities often made him feel like a project rather than a person.
"So, I've been thinking," she began, her voice filled with the excitement of a new plan, "I know you enjoy the arts, Brady. Have you considered trying out for the school play this year?"
There it was. Her next attempt to get him involved in something.
"The school play?" Brady asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice. He'd seen the posters around the school. Peter Pan. It was a classic, sure, but it wasn't exactly his cup of tea. Plus, the thought of being on stage, in front of everyone, made his palms sweat.
Mrs. Crane nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! It's a wonderful opportunity to make friends, build confidence, and maybe even discover a new passion."
Brady felt his shoulders tense up. "I'm not really into acting," he mumbled, playing with the strings of his hoodie.
Mrs. Crane leaned back in her chair, her expression understanding. "I know, Brady, but sometimes we find ourselves in situations that are out of our comfort zones. That's where real growth happens."
Brady swallowed hard, his heart racing at the thought. He didn't want to disappoint Mrs. Crane. She had always been so kind to him, so supportive. And maybe, just maybe, she was right. Maybe trying out for the play could be a chance to prove to everyone that he wasn't just the quiet kid who got picked on. Maybe he could show them a different side of him.
"Okay," he said finally, "but I'm not making any promises."
Mrs. Crane beamed. "That's all I ask, Brady. Just give it a shot. Try-outs are in two days after school. You don't even need a monologue, Miss Marsh is gonna have potentials read from the play ."
Brady nodded, his mind racing with the implications of what he'd just agreed to. Two days to prepare? Peter Pan?
As he left Mrs. Crane's office, the hallways had cleared significantly, leaving only a few stragglers to mope around. The cinnamon scent from the candle lingered in his nose, reminding him of the warmth and comfort she'd offered. But now, the reality of what he'd signed up for was setting in. He felt a mix of dread and a weird sort of excitement.
Chris and TJ were leaning against the lockers outside, Chris playing a game on his phone, TJ trying to tell him how to do it properly. They looked up when Brady emerged, noticing the change in his posture.
"You look like you just saw a ghost," TJ said, raising an eyebrow.
"Mrs. Crane wants me to try out for Peter Pan," Brady said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Chris' eyes widened. "Seriously? She’s met you right?"
Brady cast him a look.
TJ slugged Chris, causing him to jerk his arm and lose the game. "Don’t listen to him,you’ve got this. Besides you've got that whole 'never growing up' vibe down."
“Yeah like a Lost Boy” added Chris, hoping to recover.
A Lost Boy huh? He could pull that off easily. Especially because lately, he felt a little bit lost.
The three of them walked home.
Brady walked into the house feeling a bit like he'd signed his death warrant. His Mom was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner with the TV playing in the background. She looked up from her work when she heard the door, her smile making him feel better already.
"How was school?" she asked, not looking up from her task.
Brady took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, dropping his backpack by the door. He paused for a moment, unsure of how to approach the topic. "I talked to Mrs. Crane today."
His mother looked up, her eyes bright with curiosity. "And?"
Brady took a deep breath. "She wants me to try out for Peter Pan."
His mother's eyes lit up with excitement. "The school play? That's wonderful, Brady! Beth loved doing those school plays. She said it was some of the best times she ever had."
Beth was too busy now with other activities but he remembered going to her plays when he was younger.
His mother's enthusiasm was infectious, and he felt a small spark of excitement ignite in his chest. "Maybe I could do it too," he murmured to himself.
When Brady shared the news with Ryan that evening, his stepdad's eyes widened with surprise. "Peter Pan, huh?" Ryan said, ruffling Brady's hair. "I always knew you had a bit of the adventurer in you."
Ryan had been trying to get Brady involved in more extracurriculars since he'd noticed the change in him. He knew the teasing had taken its toll, but he also knew that the boy had a spirit that was stronger than any of the bullies could ever realize. "What role are you trying out for?"
"Probably Peter," he admitted.
His mother and Ryan exchanged looks.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
His mother smiled weakly. "Brady, Peter Pan is generally played by a girl."
Brady was confused. That didn't make any sense. He'd seen the movies. That was not a girl voicing him in the cartoon or all the other movies. When he mentioned that, his mother explained that the character is "boyish" and "androgynous". Later that night, Brady googled it. The internet only confirmed what his mother had said. Knowing this, he was still determined to try.
The next two days were a blur of memorizing lines and practicing in the mirror. His mother had even bought him a book of Peter Pan to read, hoping it would give him a better understanding of the character. He studied it like it was a manual for surviving the school play.
The day of the audition came, and Brady's nerves were a tangled web of anxiety. He had convinced himself that Mrs. Crane had made a mistake suggesting he try out. That he wasn't cut out for this kind of thing. That he'd just make a fool of himself.
But as he walked into the school auditorium, he saw a familiar flash of red hair and a smug grin that could only belong to Chris. His heart skipped a beat. Next to Chris, TJ, arms crossed, leaning against the wall with an "I told you so" look.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.
"Auditioning duh," said TJ like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Chris held up a script with a flourish. "Where you go, we follow."
Miss Marsh entered the auditorium with the energy of a tornado. She had long velvety black hair and a smile that could outshine the sun. She was the kind of person that made everyone else seem dimmer just by being in the room. Her eyes scanned over the small crowd of hopefuls and landed on Brady. He felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. She smiled with her eyes before turning away.
"Welcome, future stars!" she announced, her voice echoing through the room. "As you all know, this year we're putting on Peter Pan. And to keep things interesting, I've decided to shake things up a bit. Instead of the usual gender roles, I want to explore the versatility of our young actors. That's right, everyone will be reading for every part!"
There were quite a few groans. A couple of the kids even got up from their seats and left.
The auditions began and it was clear that some had been waiting for this moment for quite a while. Jenny Harris, the school's resident theater star, strutted onto the stage, her voice soaring through the air like she'd been born to play Peter Pan. She had the poise, the grace, and the swagger of a seasoned actor. Brady watched, his heart in his throat, as she nailed every line with the ease of a natural performer.
Chris took the stage next, his cheeks flushing a bright red. He stumbled over his words at first, but he had a certain charm that made the audience chuckle. His reading of Smee was unexpectedly delightful, and Brady couldn't help but feel proud of his friend. When it was TJ’s turn, she got a lot of laughs too. She took a shot at Wendy and it was good but her typical anger came out, making people laugh more. She nailed being a Lost Boy though.
When it was Brady's turn, his knees felt like jelly as he approached the stage. The spotlight was hot on his face, making him sweat under the collar of his shirt. He tried to focus on the script in his trembling hands, but his mind kept racing. He stumbled over the words of Peter, his voice wobbly and unsure. The audience tittered, and he felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He glanced over at TJ, who gave him a thumbs up, her usual expression of encouragement.
As Miss Marsh instructed him to switch to the Wendy role, Brady took a deep breath and tried to shake off his nerves. He began to read the lines, and something strange happened. His voice grew steadier, his posture straightened, and he found himself slipping into the character without even trying. The room grew quiet, and the only sound was the rustle of pages turning. Brady immediately felt a kinship with the character of Wendy, the brave girl who didn't want to grow up, who was wise beyond her years. As he recited her lines, he saw the story unfold in his mind's eye—the adventures in Neverland, the battles with Captain Hook, the bittersweet longing to stay young forever.
Miss Marsh smiled, her eyes never leaving the boy once as he read.
When Brady finished, the room remained silent for a beat too long. Then a smattering of applause echoed through the auditorium. Surprised, he looked up to see his classmates smiling and nodding at him. Even the jocks, who had been snickering in the back row, were clapping. He took a shaky bow and retreated to his seat, his cheeks red with embarrassment and something else—pride?
Miss Marsh thanked everyone for coming and announced that the audition results would be posted outside the drama club room the following week. The room cleared out, the chatter of excitement and speculation about who would get which role filling the space. As Brady gathered his things, TJ slapped him on the back. "Way to go, Brady-boy!" she exclaimed. "You actually sounded like a girl!"
"Thanks," he said reluctantly, not sure how to react to that.
The words hung in the air between them as they made their way to the door. The thought of sounding like a girl gave him mixed feelings. On one hand, it meant he might have done a good job as Wendy. On the other, it was a stark reminder of his features that often got him teased. He felt a bit like a fraud. But he shrugged it off. It was just a play. Just pretend, right?
Over the next week, Brady's mind was a whirlwind of anticipation and dread. He found himself daydreaming about flying across the stage, the wind in his hair, as he played out scenes from the play in his mind. But the fear of failure kept his excitement in check. Every time he saw Jenny in the hallway, he felt a pang of jealousy. She had the height, the look, everything Peter Pan needed.
He tried to focus on his schoolwork, but the thought of the audition results was like a siren's call, drawing his attention away from algebra and science. Every time the bell rang, he'd feel his heart jump, thinking it might be the day the list would be up.
And then finally, it was.
The list was posted on Friday. When Brady and his friends found it, there was a group already gathered. Jenny was there with her groupies. The tall, blonde girl was all smiles. Her friends congratulated her.
Chris squeezed through and pumped a fist then shouted, "PIRATE NUMBER 3!!!"
The gathered group laughed. Chris had been hoping all week to get a small role because it was less work for him.
TJ was less enthusiastic. "Tinkerbell?" she sneered, her arms crossed. "How in the hell did I end up as the damn fairy?"
The way she looked now, annoyed, stomping her foot, it was easy to see how she got the role. Not that Brady would ever tell her that.
But now it was his turn. His heart was racing so fast he was surprised it didn't jump out of his chest. He took a deep breath and scanned the list.
There it was.
Brady McAllister, cast as Wendy.
The words on the audition list seemed to pulse with an energy all their own. His heart skipped a beat, and his cheeks grew warm with a blend of embarrassment and something...else. Was it excitement? The thought of playing a girl's role in Peter Pan made him feel...what? He wasn't entirely sure. It was a strange cocktail of emotions he hadn't quite figured out how to label yet. He looked at his friends, expecting a barrage of teasing, but instead, their expressions were a mix of shock and genuine admiration.
TJ leaned in close, her voice a low whisper. "Dude, you're playing a girl. That's like...the ultimate challenge, right?"
Brady felt a shiver run down his spine. "I guess," he murmured, still in disbelief. He didn't know how to process this. He felt like he was in a daze as the rest of the school day unfolded around him. The lessons blurred together, the words of his teachers becoming a distant hum as he replayed the moment of reading the audition list.
Wendy. I'm Wendy.
Had Miss Marsh lost her mind?
Those words echoed through Brady's head as he walked home from school that day, the paper with the audition results crumpled in his pocket. He had never felt so...seen, in a way that didn't make him want to crawl into a hole.
When he opened the door to his house, he was greeted by the unexpected sight of his sister, Beth. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, her school bag tossed aside, her nose buried in a book. Her hair, usually pulled back in a sleek ponytail, fell in soft waves around her face, and she wore an oversized sweatshirt that made her look smaller somehow. It was a side of her he rarely saw.
"Long time no see," he quipped. Even feeling miserable, he always had some energy to bust her chops.
"Haha," she deadpanned, not looking up from her book. "I live here you know."
"You sure?" he asked, dropping his backpack off near the door.
When he came home from school, he usually went in through the kitchen side door. It was the fastest way to an after school snack. He was all kinds of distracted today. He tried to focus though, if Mom and Ryan weren't here then that meant he was safe from anyone asking about the play casting. It gave him a reprieve from thinking about it or so he thought...
"Shit, Brady, you look awful," said his sister when she finally looked up from her book.
"Gee, thanks," he grumbled as he dropped into a seat at the table.
She left the island stool she was sitting on, dropping into a chair across from him. She reached forward, instinctively touching his forehead to check for a fever. "No fever" she said with a sigh. "You're really pale though?"
He pulled his hand out of her grasp. "It's nothing," he said, trying to play it cool.
Her eyes narrowed. He sighed, he never could lie to her. While they weren't all that close now, they were siblings after all. Throughout the years, he was never able to pull a fast one on her. She could always tell he was lying or hiding something from her. She used to take great pleasure in calling him out on it too.
"It's not nothing," she said, using that special skill of her's. "Does it have something to do with your play?"
"You know about that?" he asked, surprised.
She rolled her eyes. "I might be busy but I'm not out of the loop. Mom told me all about it."
He sighed. "The results of the audition came out today..."
"You get a lousy part?" she asked, knowing that that would have bummed her out.
"I got Wendy..." he said softly, barely above a whisper.
"Gotta speak up little bro," she said teasingly.
"I got Wendy," he repeated, too loudly this time.
Beth's eyes grew wide, and she leaned back in her chair. "Wait, what?"
Brady nodded, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah, Miss Marsh decided to go with a boy for the role of Wendy."
"And by a boy, I assume that means you?" she asked.
Brady nodded again. "Yeah. It's...different."
She could see it though. No offense to her brother, but he wasn't the most manliest of men around. She'd had this conversation with her mother more than once; how Brady clearly needed to see a doctor to figure out why he was so "feminine." Her mother didn't want to breach the subject unless Brady himself brought it up to her. She knew better though. She knew things like this were going to happen. She was actually shocked nothing like this hadn't happened already.
Hell he was prettier than most of the girls in his grade.
Brady looked at his sister, his eyes searching hers for a hint of teasing or sarcasm, but she only offered a gentle smile.
"It's just a part, Brady," she said, placing her hand on his. "You're an actor now. That's what we do, we become someone else for a while."
He nodded, trying to take her words to heart. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was different somehow.
Brady had always felt like a square peg in a round hole, and now he was being asked to play a round peg in a square one. The thought of playing Wendy, of being a boy playing the part of a girl, filled him with a strange sensation of fear. What would the other kids at school think? Would they laugh at him? Would they tease him even more?
He had always been so self-conscious of his delicate features, the way his voice didn't quite match the expectations of his peers. Now he was being thrown into the spotlight, asked to embody the very traits that made him a target. It was like being told to run a marathon when he'd never even jogged around the block.
"Let me show you something," said his sister, getting up from the table.
Without waiting for his response, she grabbed his hand and practically dragged him upstairs to her bedroom. He had barely stepped in her room in the last year. It was like a sacred sanctuary. Her bed was made, and there wasn't a single piece of laundry on the floor. It smelled faintly of her favorite perfume.
"Beth, what are we doing?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"Trust me," she said, her voice firm.
Brady sat down in front of her vanity, feeling a bit like he was about to undergo a transformation he wasn't ready for.
Beth pulled out a few tubes of makeup and some brushes, laying them out neatly before him. "Okay, so we're just going to keep it simple," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "You don't need a full face to play Wendy. Just enough to make sure you look the part."
"I don't know about this," he said nervously.
"That's why I'm here," she said, giving his shoulder a gentle pat before beginning.
With a soft touch, she applied a bit of foundation, blending it into his skin. Brady stared at the reflection, watching as she painted him into someone else. It was odd, looking at himself with a smudge of pink on his cheeks, a stroke of mascara to darken his lashes. But it wasn't as terrifying as he thought it would be. In fact, there was something...freeing about it.
When she was done, he looked up into the mirror, his eyes wide. The person staring back at him had the same soft features, but now, with a touch of makeup, they looked softer, more feminine. He was shocked at the pretty girl staring back at him from the mirror. It was like looking at a stranger.
"Wow," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
"We're not done yet" she said, leading him from the vanity.
Beth's eyes scanned her closet before landing on a blue sundress that had once been her favorite. It had been too small for her for a couple of summers now, but she hadn't had the heart to give it away. It was simple, with small white flowers scattered over the fabric. She pulled it out and held it up to Brady, a smirk playing on her lips. "Strip to your boxers," she ordered playfully.
Brady's cheeks turned crimson as he obeyed. The dress was surprisingly light in his hands, and he felt a strange mix of trepidation and excitement as he slid it over his head. It settled around his waist, the fabric brushing against his legs with an unfamiliar softness. He felt his heart pound in his chest as he looked at himself in the mirror, the dress transforming him in a way that was both terrifying and fascinating.
Beth was floored.
The dress fit Brady like it had been tailored for him. The way the fabric draped over his shoulders and hips...it was eerily perfect. She felt a strange sense of unease creep up her spine as she took in the sight of her brother dressed as a girl. She had to admit, though, he looked...good. Too good.
“My brother should not look this good,” she thought with concern.
The dress fell to his knees, showing off his legs, which were surprisingly slender and smooth. His shoulders were broader than hers, but the way the dress framed his body made him look...almost delicate.
"It's like I'm looking at a different person," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and fear.
"A Wendy person," his sister added softly.
Brady felt his cheeks redden again. "I guess so."
They managed to get the dress off without too much trouble, and she wiped off the makeup with a gentle makeup remover. He took a deep breath as he stared at his reflection, looking for any signs of the girl he'd been moments ago. But all he saw was his own face, a bit more open and vulnerable than usual.
Their parents arrived home shortly after. They waited a few minutes before they left her room, their mother calling for them.
As they descended the stairs, the smell of dinner wafted up to meet them. His mother and stepdad were chatting in the kitchen, the clink of dishes and the hum of the TV in the living room creating a comforting backdrop to their usual evening routine.
"You okay?" Beth whispered as they reached the bottom step.
Brady took a deep breath and nodded but said, "I'm not sure."
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before they walked into the kitchen.
Their mother looked up from the stove, a spatula in her hand. "How did the audition go?" she asked, her eyes filled with hope.
Brady took a deep breath, bracing himself. "I got cast as Wendy," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
His mother's eyes widened. "Oh, honey," she said, setting down the spatula, "That's...different"
Beth chuckled. "Inspiring though. Brady pulled it off!"
Ryan, who had been quietly watching from the living room, walked in with a proud smile. "Congrats, Brady!" He ruffled Brady's hair, trying to keep it light.
Brady's mother pulled him into a hug, her eyes glistening. "You're going to be amazing," she whispered.
The following Monday, Brady walked into school with a mix of excitement and dread. He'd hoped that the weekend would have been enough to let the news of the cast list spread, so he could gauge the reaction of his classmates. But to his surprise, and slight relief, it seemed that the school was preoccupied with other drama—a cheating scandal on the football team had taken center stage. The halls were abuzz with whispers of suspension and a potential forfeit of their next game. The play was the last thing on anyone's mind.
He slipped into his seat in math class, expecting the usual barrage of snickers and whispers from the guys in the back. But today, they were too busy passing around a crumpled note, their heads bent together in a conspiratorial huddle. The silence was unnerving, and for a moment, Brady allowed himself to believe that he might just get through the day without anyone mentioning his new role as Wendy.
The bell rang, and the teacher, Mr. Thompson, called for everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone," he said, "I know you're all eager to get into the thick of it, but let's not forget we have a math test coming up!"
Brady couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that no one was talking about the play, but he quickly realized it was for the best. Maybe he could fly under the radar for a little longer, enjoy the anonymity before the storm of reactions came. The rest of the class grumbled and opened their textbooks, burying their heads in algebra. The whispers of the cheating scandal had reached even this class, and everyone was eager to dissect the juicy details. It was as if the play didn't even exist.
But Friday afternoon, reality crashed down on him. As the final bell rang, Miss Marsh's voice echoed through the loudspeakers, "Could all cast members of Peter Pan please report to the auditorium immediately after school?" The hallways grew silent for a moment, the only sound the rustle of papers and the shuffling of feet as everyone else made their way home.
He met Chris and TJ on the way.
"You ready for this?" Chris asked, nudging him with his elbow.
Brady nodded, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, his voice a little shakier than he would have liked.
When they arrived at the auditorium, it was clear that the turnout was less than expected. Miss Marsh, dressed in a floral blouse and a skirt that swished as she moved, looked around the room with a mix of disappointment and determination. "Alright, everyone," she announced, her voice echoing off the empty seats. "Since we're a bit light today, let's just get to know each other."
The cast went around the room, introducing themselves. She also asked them to list their part.
"Hi, I'm Jenny Harris," said the tall, blonde girl who'd gotten the role of Peter Pan. "And obviously, I'm Peter."
There was a smattering of applause, and Brady felt his heart sink a bit further. She'd gotten the role he'd wanted, and she looked perfect for it. He took a deep breath and tried to push the feeling away. This was about the play, not about his insecurities.
When it was his turn, he stood up and cleared his throat. "Hi, I'm Brady McAllister, and I'm playing Wendy."
There was more clapping, Brady blushed in embarrassment.
TJ leaned over and whispered, "You're gonna rock this, Wendy."
Her words didn't help much. Brady's hands were sweaty, his stomach churning. He had to get out of there before someone asked him a question, before he had to face the reality of what he'd signed up for.
"Brady," Miss Marsh called out as the room began to empty. "Could I see you for a moment?"
Brady's heart skipped a beat. What now? He turned around, watching as the last of his new castmates filed out of the auditorium. Jenny shot him a warm smile as she passed, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. He took a deep breath and walked over to Miss Marsh, his palms sticky with sweat.
Miss Marsh's office was in the back of the auditorium, just behind the stage.
The walls were lined with posters of past plays, a testament to the long history of the school's drama program. There was something about the way she held herself that made Brady feel both intimidated and comforted. She had a way of looking at you that made you feel like you could tell her anything, but at the same time, you didn't want to disappoint her.
Miss Marsh closed the door behind them, her eyes meeting Brady's in the mirror. "Alright, Brady," she began, her tone firm but gentle, "Let's get you measured up for your costume."
With a nod, he allowed her to guide him to the center of the room, where a tailor's mannequin stood, surrounded by bolts of fabric and a sewing machine. The room smelled faintly of thread and the sweet scent of fresh coffee. She took out a tape measure and began to circle him, her eyes darting from his reflection to her notepad. He could feel his heart racing as the cold metal touched his skin, marking the spots where he would soon be transformed into someone else.
"Okay," Miss Marsh said, her voice businesslike. "Now, let's talk about your makeup. Mrs. Poole will be handling all the transformations, but I want to make sure we get it just right." She paused, looking at him intently. "This isn't just any role, Brady. This is Wendy Darling we're talking about. She's the heart of the story, the voice of reason in a world of fantasy. She's got to be believable."
Brady nodded, trying to keep his nerves in check.
Miss Marsh's eyes searched his. "You understand what this means, don't you?"
He had no idea actually.
A moment later, the office door opened and in walked a portly middle aged woman wearing a bright colorful dress. Mrs. Poole, he assumed. She eyed him intently, her stare like little lasers scanning his whole body.
"He's cute, he's got the right build" she said, nodding. "We'll need to do something about his hair though. And I'm thinking perhaps a modest bust too. We're talking about a young woman, after all."
"When can you have it ready?" asked Miss Marsh with a smile.
Mrs. Poole didn't skip a beat. "Tomorrow, if he's willing to come in."
"Well, what do you say, Brady?" asked Miss Marsh, a eyebrow raised. "Can you come in tomorrow to do what Mrs. Poole asked?"
He wasn't sure what was going on but he nodded anyway.
Miss Marsh smiled then wrote a note for him to give his mother.
On Saturday, Brady found himself in the passenger seat of his mother's car, his stomach in knots. She had a way of making everything seem okay, her voice soothing him as she drove them to the school. The parking lot was almost empty, a stark contrast to the usual bustle of weekdays. His mother parked in her usual spot, the one closest to the drama room, and he took a deep breath. "You're going to be great," she said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Walking into the auditorium, he was surprised to see Miss Marsh and Mrs. Poole sitting on the stage, waiting. They weren't expecting him to try on the costumes yet, which was a relief. The dress from the audition was still fresh in his mind—he wasn't ready to face that again so soon.
"Ah, Brady," Miss Marsh said, standing up and walking over to him with a warm smile. "Mrs. Poole has something to go over with you".
Mrs. Poole, the costume designer, had a tray of makeup and a wig in her hands. She looked him up and down before speaking. "Now, I know we talked about the makeup, but I had a little brainwave last night. I think extensions would be better than a wig." She held up a set of long, wavy locks. "These will blend in with your hair, making you look much more natural."
Miss Marsh nodded in agreement. "It's a great idea, Brady. Much less bulky, and you'll be able to move around more comfortably on stage."
Brady felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of a padded bra, but he knew they had a point. The more realistic he looked as Wendy, the better the performance would be. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the positive. This was his chance to prove himself, to show everyone that he could do this—that he was more than just a kid with a pretty face and a penchant for getting picked on.
Mrs. Poole led him to a chair at the corner of the stage, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Don't worry, my dear," she said, patting his shoulder with a hand that was surprisingly gentle for someone so stern. "You're in good hands."
With surprising deftness, she began to weave the hair extensions into his own short, brown hair. Each stroke was meticulous, as if she were crafting a fine piece of art. The process was soothing, almost meditative, and Brady found himself relaxing despite the looming fear of what was coming. The smell of the hairspray and the warmth of the stage lights above created a bubble of comfort around him.
As the extensions grew longer, Brady felt his own reflection morph in the mirror. The delicate strands of hair blended seamlessly with his own, creating a cascade of soft waves that reached just below his shoulders. Mrs. Poole stepped back, her face a picture of satisfaction. "Perfect," she murmured, tucking a few stray strands behind his ear. "You're going to be a stunning Wendy."
As Mrs. Poole held up a mirror for him to admire her creation, Brady was floored once again. Now he had long flowing brown hair.
Mrs. Poole picked up the padded bra. "This," she said with a knowing smile, "will help create the right silhouette."
Brady's cheeks burned, but he nodded. He knew this was a crucial part of the transformation. He took the bra from her trembling hands and walked over to the changing room, the fabric feeling strange and foreign against his skin.
In the small, stuffy space, he took a deep breath and slipped it on. It was surprisingly comfortable, the padding molding to his chest in a way that didn't feel as ridiculous as he'd feared. He stared at his reflection, his eyes wide. The sight was jarring, yet somehow not entirely unpleasant. He turned to the side, watching as the curves took shape, feeling a weird sense of satisfaction. He didn't look like a boy anymore—he looked like...Wendy.
When he emerged from the changing room, Miss Marsh was waiting for him, her eyes lighting up like Christmas lights. "Oh, Brady," she exclaimed, her hands coming together in a silent clap. "You're going to be marvelous!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Brady felt his nerves give way to a tentative smile. "Thanks," he mumbled, tucking a strand of new hair behind his ear. It felt strange, the way the long locks brushed against his neck.
"I think that's it for the day" she admitted. "The dress won't be ready until next weekend. Then we can really see how all of this comes together"
"Ok" he said with a sigh. He grabbed the long locks. "How do these come out?"
"Those ones don't" said Miss Marsh sheepishly. "Not for at least eight weeks anyway"
The color drained from Brady's face. "What?"
She sighed. "We usually have the clip in ones on hand but Mrs. Poole forgot them at home. These ones are sewn in. It works out better this way. Now we don't have to keep clipping them in every time"
So now that meant Brady was going to have long hair for at least eight weeks.
Brady couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He'd signed up for a play, not a makeover. The thought of walking around school with long hair, especially when the bullies had already found so many reasons to torment him, was more than he could handle. He felt a sudden wave of panic wash over him, his palms growing damp. "Miss Marsh, I don't think I can do this," he whispered, his voice shaking.
"You're a great actor Brady," she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Think of it as just a role you're playing"
Brady nodded, trying to take her words to heart. He knew it was just a play, but it was hard not to let the weight of his new appearance affect him. As they walked out of the school, he couldn't help but feel like he was wearing a costume, one that was a little too real.
When he saw his mother's car, his heart skipped a beat. What was he going to tell her? Would she laugh? Would she be disappointed? He took a deep breath and climbed into the passenger seat, keeping his head down to hide his new hair.
His mother looked at him. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I think you have the wrong....Brady?"
"Hi Mom," he said sheepishly, buckling his seat belt.
She was floored. This beautiful girl was her son.
"Where did you get all that hair?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
Brady took a deep breath. "It's for the play," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Mrs. Poole had to weave in some extensions."
His mother's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, wow," she said, reaching out to touch the soft strands. "They look so real. You're really committing to this role, huh?"
Brady took a deep breath. "I think I want to try as hard as I can"
The words hung in the air like a delicate spiderweb, shimmering with hope and fear. His mother looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and concern. "Brady," she said softly, "are you sure about this?"
He nodded, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "I think so," he murmured.
****
Later that evening, as the house settled into the quiet rhythm of night, Beth found her mother in the kitchen, the low hum of the refrigerator the only company. She took a deep breath, her thoughts racing as she approached her mother, who was busy preparing a cup of tea. "Mom?" she began tentatively. "Can I talk to you about something?"
Her mother looked up, the steam from the kettle swirling around her, and nodded. "Of course, sweetheart. What's on your mind?"
Beth took a deep breath, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "I think you know"
"You mean your brother?" she asked after sipping her tea.
Beth looked serious and sighed heavily. "Are we both certain that he's my brother?"
There she put it out there. She had been trying for a subtle yet open way of breaching the subject of her brother's seemingly ambiguous gender for awhile now. She was just never really sure how to approach it. She knew her mother would never outright reject her thoughts on the subject but it was a delicate thing regardless.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she watched her mother, gauging her expression.
Her mother sighed finally. "A year ago, I would have told you that it was nonsense. But" She paused to rub her temples. "Chris started to get taller. His voice dropped and his shoulders widened..."
She had to admit, Chris had shot up like a weed very quickly. As often is the case with puberty in boys.
"And Brady...he's changing in other ways..." she added.
"You've noticed too?" her mother said, not surprised.
She lowered her voice slightly. "The day he found out he was playing Wendy, I took him to my room. I did his makeup and put him in one of my dresses. I had to see, Mom."
Her mother looked annoyed for a split second but that was quickly replaced by curiosity. "And what did you see?"
Beth bit her lip. "My little sister."
Her mother said nothing for a few minutes. When she spoke again, she expressed her own concerns. "Ryan and I aren't exactly blind. We've seen it. We've been waiting for Brady to say something. Its clear there's something there but if your brother doesn't notice it or doesn't want to do anything then we thought it would go away on its own."
"No offense Mom, but that's kind of stupid." said Beth, not caring if she pissed her mother off or not. "He's starting to get hips. There's definitely something there. I don't think he's fully noticed but others have I'm sure of it. I've seen the way some of the boys look at him. While there are a few dickheads, a lot of them are very confused."
"You think we should do something?" asked her mother.
"I think we should wait until after the play," Beth admitted. "I do want to try a few things though if I can. We could be wrong and this might not be what he wants but let me test the waters first."
"Ok," her mother agreed. "But if he wants to stop, you stop"
"I'll be careful, Mom"
****
Back in his room, Brady settled into his gaming chair, the soft hum of the computer the only sound that pierced the silence. His new hair cascaded down his back, and the padded bra felt like a second skin. He had hoped that the familiar routine of gaming with Chris and TJ would help him feel normal again, but the weight of the day's events was too much to shake off. He powered on his headset, eager for the digital world to swallow him whole.
"Hey, guys," Brady said, his voice crackling over the mic. "Ready for some Danger Zone?"
"Already in the lobby," Chris's voice boomed back, the sound of virtual gunfire and zombies being splattered already echoing through the speakers.
Brady took a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside as he loaded into the game. The familiar digital landscape of Danger Zone filled his screen, a stark contrast to the real world where he was now a boy with long hair and a secret identity as Wendy Darling.
As the three of them started their zombie slaying rampage, TJ was the one who decided to bring up his meeting today at school.
"Why did she call you in on Saturday?" she asked, smashing a zombie head with a sledgehammer.
Brady bit his lip. He was dreading this but he knew he couldn't hide it. "They gave me hair extensions"
"What?!" exclaimed Chris, his avatar getting swarmed after he stopped moving, shocked by Brady's admittance.
"Yeah," Brady sighed, taking out his frustration on a horde of zombies with a well-placed grenade. "They put in hair extensions and had me try on a bra for the play."
Chris chuckled. "I'm sure that's a sight..."
TJ was quiet for a few seconds then, "I want to see"
Brady sighed. He was expecting this too. He hid his Avatar in a secure building then in the real world, he took out his smartphone. He hated the whole concept of selfies but he knew TJ wouldn't leave him alone until he obliged her curiosity. So he took a quick one and sent it to her.
A few seconds later in game, she gasped. "Holy shit!"
"Let me see too!" Chris piped in then a few seconds later, "Whoa, hot babe!"
Brady cringed a bit at that.
"Thanks Chris," he mumbled, trying to keep his voice even as he navigated his avatar through the game's post-apocalyptic streets. "But it's just for the play, remember?"
TJ's voice was softer, "But you look kind of...cute?"
Brady couldn't help the little flutter of joy that took flight in his chest, despite the situation. "Thanks," he murmured, focusing on the game.
Monday at school, Brady felt like he was walking into a different world. The hallways that had once echoed with jeers and shoves were now filled with whispers and sneaky glances. His classmates looked at him with curiosity rather than malice, their eyes lingering on the long hair that swished down his back and the way the soft fabric of his shirt clung to the new curves of his chest. He had to admit, Mrs. Poole had done an excellent job with the padding. It was like a costume within a costume—his secret shield against the world's cruel judgments.
For the first time in his life, he was the center of attention, and not just because of his usual missteps. The whispers grew louder as he approached his locker, the same locker that had been the site of so many pranks and taunts. But now, the faces that turned toward him were filled with a mix of awe and confusion. Some of the popular kids even offered him shy smiles, a stark contrast to the sneers of the past.
When Brady sat down in English class, the boy next to him extended a hand. "Hey," he said with a friendly grin. "I'm Brian."
Brady took the hand, feeling the firm grip and the calluses from the football. "Yeah, I know," he said with a small smile, trying not to let his nerves show. "You've been sitting next to me all year"
"I have?" asked Brian confused, then he squinted. "Shit, Brady. I had no idea...I thought..." He then laughed. "You look different"
Brian White. He was tall with dark hair and one of those smiles that a lot of girls seemed to swoon over. He was a football player but one of the good ones. He never once tormented Brady and wasn't one of the ones involved in that cheating business.
"I'm in the play," said Brady, hoping it was enough of an explanation.
"Wendy, yeah, I know," he said with a laugh. "I just thought you were a new girl with that hair."
Brady was surprised. "How do you know that?"
Brian gave him a weird look. "I'm Captain Hook", he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Brady felt foolish. He'd only known a few of the cast and was focused on his own thing that he never noticed Brian was in the play as well. Plus, he was pretty certain Brian wasn't at the first meeting.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." he said, trying not to sound self absorbed.
Brian waved it off. "Its all good. I only auditioned because so that I could get extra credit. I never thought I'd get a part. Then the cheating thing happened. On Saturday, Coach wanted all hands on deck so I had to miss the meeting..."
Brady knew the outcome of that. The football season was done, more than half the team had been expelled.
After English, as Brady gathered his books, he couldn't help but feel the weight of eyes on him. When he looked up, he saw Brian hovering by the door, his gaze lingering on Brady's new look. Brady's heart skipped a beat—was this going to be another round of teasing? But instead, as he walked to his next class, he noticed that Brian was following him. Not in a stalkerish way, but more like he was just going the same way.
The realization that he had several classes together with Brian just hit Brady like a ton of bricks! How had he not noticed before? He'd always been so wrapped up in his own world, trying to avoid attention that he never paid attention to who was actually around him. Now, with the hair and the bra, it was like he was seeing everything with a new set of eyes.
Lunchtime arrived with the same cacophony of trays and laughter that Brady was used to, but as he made his way through the cafeteria with his usual tray of food, something felt different. He looked up to see that Brian was watching him, a small smile playing on his lips. It was a smile that didn't hold any malice or teasing, just genuine curiosity. For a moment, Brady felt like he was in an alternate reality—a universe where he was accepted, or at least not outright ridiculed.
"Dude, did Brian White just smile and nod at you?" asked Chris as Brady sat down.
Brady shrugged. "Its been a weird day."
"Like the Twilight Zone," giggled TJ, staring at his hair. "Did you brush it?"
Brady flushed red with embarrassment, "Beth did this morning."
TJ gave him a look.
It had actually been really weird. When he woke up this morning, Beth had been waiting for him at his bedroom door. After he was done with his morning routine and getting dressed, she was there. She dragged him to her room again, sat him down in front of her vanity like the other day and slowly brushed his new hair. She told him it would have to be a morning thing now too, that it was important to maintain it and keep it healthy. He had no idea what was going on but he let her do it.
"You sure you're ok?" TJ asked, poking his padded chest with a french fry.
"I'm fine," he said annoyed, swatting her fry away.
She frowned at him. "Fine says the boy with fake boobies, long hair, with the jock drooling all over him."
"He's not drooling," Brady snapped defensively.
"You sure?" she asked, stealthly pointing her fry behind him.
He turned his head, trying not to make it look like he was looking. Sure enough though, Brian was staring in their direction.
"What new twist is this?" he asked, more to himself than his friends.
"I can spell it out for you if you want" said TJ, finally munching her fry. "Pretty boy gets picked on, jocks laugh. Pretty boy gets long hair and boobs, now jocks now drool."
Chris laughed, Brady frowned.
TJ sighed. "Seriously though, Brady. This is the weirdest shit I've ever seen."
"How do you think I feel?" he admitted.
The rest of the week indeed got more bizarre. It started with the teachers. They would call him 'Miss McAllister' without a second thought, even though they knew he was a boy. It was like the school had collective amnesia about his gender. The other students took cues from the teachers, treating him with a mix of curiosity and deference usually reserved for a new student. It didn't matter how many times he corrected them either.
The hallways were a whole different battlefield. The boys stared at him but not in the malicious, "I'm gonna kick his ass," kind of way like before. The girls were complimenting him now too---telling how they liked his hair or asked him where he bought his shirt. It was all really weird and confusing.
But the weirdest moment came when Mr. Smith, the portly Biology teacher, stopped him from going into the boys' restroom. "Excuse me," he said, his arms crossing in front of the doorway. "Miss, that's the boy's room"
Brady's heart sank. "I'm Brady, Mr. Smith. From your class?"
The teacher nodded. "Be that as it may, young lady, you're still not going into that restroom"
"I'm a boy," he said, annoyed.
Mr. Smith gave him a once over. "And I'm a lobster"
In the end, Brady didn't go to the bathroom. He ended up going later that day without issue, except a couple of boys inside giving him strange looks. It didn't matter that he used the urinal too.
When Friday came around, the cast assembled again in the auditorium after school. Most of them were there this time, those who were absent last time no doubt given hell by the overenthusiastic director. Miss Marsh was like a butterfly, flitting about the stage in a flowing dress. Mrs Poole was there along with the play's dressmaker, Mrs. Cruz. The two ladies were passing out outfits to their respective "owners", making people form a line.
Brady watched with baited amusement as TJ was handed the tiny green dress that belonged to Tinkerbelle. The look of sheer terror on her face at the sight of it was enough to make him and several around them burst into laughter.
The amusement soon shifted his way though.
Miss Marsh called him up to the stage. "Ah, Brady," she said with a smile. "Our Wendy! We have your dress ready as well!"
Brady took the hanger with the delicate fabric with trembling hands. The nightgown was a soft blue, almost matching the color of the sky. It had white lace around the collar and sleeves. It was so feminine that he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed holding it. He also groaned when he remembered the story, how Wendy and her brothers were getting ready for bed, dressed in their pajamas when Peter whisked them away.
He stared at the dress, made to resemble a nightgown.
"Now where's our Captain Hook?" shouted Miss Marsh, looking around.
"Here," shouted Brian, coming forward.
Brady felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn't sure why.
Since their unexpected encounter in English at the beginning of the week Brady had noticed that Brian had started to sit closer to him during their shared classes. He'd lean in during discussions, his elbow occasionally brushing against Brady's, sending electric jolts through his body. It was weird, thrilling and utterly confusing the heck out of him.
They talked a lot now. It was strange how much the two of them had in common too.
Miss Marsh took her place at the podium, her eyes scanning the room with a sharp gaze. "Alright everyone," she called out. "As you know, rehearsals for Peter Pan will begin next week. We're going to be meeting every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school. That gives us two months to get this production up and running. We're going to need everyone's full commitment, especially from our two leads, Brady and Jenny!"
There were cheers.
The auditorium was ablaze with excitement, the cast of Peter Pan was buzzing like a hive of bees around Brady and Jenny. Everyone had received their costumes, and the anticipation of finally bringing the play to life was palpable. As the chatter grew louder, Brady felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Brian standing there, his eyes filled with an invitation.
"Hey," Brian said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through Brady's entire being. "What are you up to tomorrow?"
Brady's eyes flickered up at Brian. "My sister wants to take me to the mall," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why?"
Brian shrugged, his biceps flexing slightly. He was fidgeting, like what he was about to say was something awe-inspiring. "My friends and I are going bowling and catching a movie tomorrow night. I was wondering if you might want to join us?"
Brady felt his stomach flip-flop. The idea of hanging out with actual people who liked him was alien, but exhilarating. "Yeah," he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "That sounds cool, but I gotta ask my Mom first"
"Cool," said Brian then he quickly added. "Let me see your phone."
Brady handed over his phone, Brian took it and put his number in it.
"There, call me with her response," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Heck call me regardless."
Brian smiled at Brady as he left.
Brady was floored. He was finally making some cool friends now. Maybe Mrs. Crane was right? Maybe this play really was helping him socialize and come out of his shell?
"Did he just ask you out?" asked an amused Chris, who had been standing nearby.
"What?" said Brady, confused. "No, of course. We're both guys...that's...well, I don't think Brian swings that way."
Chris raised an eyebrow but said nothing. If Brady didn't notice what he had just implied, he wasn't going to say anything.
"You're guys sure," said TJ as she wandered over. "But does Brian know that?"
"Of course he does!" said Brady, too enthusiastic about the idea to question his friends.
Chris and TJ exchanged looks behind Brady's back.
At home, Brady couldn't shake the excitement of the invitation from his mind. He approached his mother, the softness of his new hair brushing against his cheek, his heart racing with the same enthusiasm that had filled him when he was a little boy asking to go on a playdate. "Mom," he began, his voice quivering with hope. "Brian White asked me to hang out with him and his friends tomorrow night. Can I go?"
Brady's mother was taken aback. She couldn't remember the last time her gloomy, introverted son wanted to do anything outside of his room. She loved Chris and Tara too death but sometimes, she always hoped he'd get more friends beyond them. The three of them are too much alike, all loners who never left their houses. The idea of Brady finally getting out, actually doing something, seemed like an old prayer of hers had finally been answered..
"What will you and this Brian be doing exactly?" she asked, cautiously.
Brady shrugged. "He said bowling then the movies."
A week ago, she would have had no problem saying yes. But after her talk with Beth the other night, every time she looked at Brady, she could no longer see her son. She saw a new daughter, a naive clueless girl who was like a baby chick. It was hard not to see a girl when she looked at him now. There was something about this new person already, an energy that Brady never possessed. In only a few short days, the egg had been cracked and the chick was already trying to fly.
"Who else is going on this bowling and movie outing?" she asked, suddenly very overprotective of her "new chick".
Brady shrugged. "Brian said a group of his friends."
He was thirteen now, which was right about the age of group dates. She supposed he'd be safe enough to go out with these boys.
She finally agreed.
Later that night, Brady sat on his bed, his heart racing as he dialed the number that now existed in his phone. The ringtone seemed to echo in his ears, each second feeling like an eternity. When the call was answered, his voice came out shakier than he'd ever heard it before.
"H-hello?"
The deep timbre of Brian's voice washed over Brady, making him feel like he'd just jumped into a cold shower. "Hi," he said, trying to play it cool. "It's Brady."
"Oh, hey," said Brian, sounding equally as nervous. "What's up?"
Their conversation went on for over an hour.
Brady's Mom came upstairs to check on her son at one point. When she looked into his room, she couldn't see her son at all. There was a teenage girl on her bed, laughing and talking nonstop to a boy on the phone. She was even twirling her hair. The way she was laying, her feet up in the air, the way she moved, even a different infliction in her voice. Beth had been right and once again, she hadn't seen it.
Had Brady truly disappeared or had he ever really been there?
She knocked gently on the door. "Brady, its getting late. Wrap it up now"
"Ok Mom," said the strange girl, then into the phone. "Goodnight Brian, see ya tomorrow."
Brady's mother walked away from the door, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite name. She knew she had to tread carefully, but she also knew she had to be there for her child, even if she didn't fully understand what was happening.
Saturday morning dawned with a soft light that filtered through the curtains of Brady's room. The digital clock on his nightstand read 7:00 AM—still early by most teenage standards, but Beth had set her alarm specifically to catch him before he could start his day. She knew how much he liked to be left alone, especially after the tumultuous week he'd had. She tiptoed in, carrying a basket of toiletries.
"Hey," she whispered, nudging him gently. "Time to get up, bro."
Brady groaned, his eyes fluttering open to see Beth hovering over him with a basket. "What's all this?" he asked sleepily.
"You're not going to the mall with me looking like a slub" she said, glaring. "Now butt out of bed and use these."
She pushed the little basket into his arms as he sat up.
"What is it?" he asked, not recognizing half the things there.
"Shampoo, bodywash, moisturizer," she said, ticking her fingers as she said so.
Brady took the basket, looking at the unfamiliar items with suspicion. "Fine," he grumbled, carrying them to the bathroom with him.
"Use as the instructions tell you," she called from his room then turned to look through his closet.
As soon as the water from the shower could be heard, she went to the back of his closet and retrieved the pair of old skinny jeans she stored there yesterday before he got home from school. She knew this was risky but she also knew it was necessary to help him in the long run. She had a shirt back there too. As she was putting them on the bed, she noticed the padded bra laying on the floor. Had he been wearing this all week?
She smirked. No wonder that poor boy Brian asked him on a date. With Brady's looks, that hair and bra of his, this poor boy was probably really confused. Hell, she was having a hard enough time wondering if Brady was really her little sister too.
When Brady came out of a shower and walked into his room, his towel was around his waist, his new hair dripping wet. It wasn't the hair that caught Beth's attention though, it was the very tiny breast buds forming on her brother's chest. She was stunned.
“Oh My God!” she wondered,”How is that no one at the school hasn’t noticed those by now?” How had he not noticed those? She knew her brother could be a little dense at times but they gave detailed anatomy and puberty from both sides in Health Class in 7th grade. She knew her brother knew what breasts were and how they grew. Yet, they were clearly forming on his chest! Was he keeping quiet about them on purpose?
"Do you use everything properly?' she asked, finally recovering.
He shrugged. "I think so, the bodywash was interesting, but I think it made my nipples all puffy?"
“Nopers! I'm very certain they've probably been that way for awhile,” she thought, but didn't say.
"You think you should tell Mom about that?" she asked, hoping he'd taken the initiative?
"I think," he said, using another towel to dry off with. "I want to focus on the play first and discuss these other things with Mom afterwards"
"Other things?" So did that mean he had noticed something was wrong?
Beth pushed her curiosity aside for now, deciding to focus on the task at hand. She picked up the shirt and jeans from the bed, holding them out to Brady. "Here, put these on," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Brady took the clothes with a furrowed brow. "But these are..."
"I know," she said with a smirk, cutting him off. "They're for the play. But if you're going to play a girl, you should at least know how to dress like one, right?"
He frowned. "I don't want to walk around in a girl's top and jeans."
So he did notice.
She changed tactics. "Think of it as part of the performance. I know you're pretty natural as a girl even without trying, but this will help you get more into character. It's why I wanted to take you to the mall today, full immersion into your character."
Brady sighed, but ultimately took the clothes. He didn't argue, just walked back into the bathroom to get dressed.
He put on the clothes without complaint. There was no winning against Beth when she set her mind to something. He didn't like how well they fit but it felt like rest of the week he was already having. It was like the universe was conspiring to turn him into a girl until the play was over. He wasn't going to argue or fight it any longer.
When he walked back into his bedroom, the stunned look on his sister's face was enough to satisfy him.
"You look way too good in those," Beth finally confessed.
"This is your doing, Dr. Frankenstein." he grunted.
She frowned. "Sweetie, you are far from a monster"
Brady almost teared up. He fought it back but was surprised. He wasn't sure why that made him so emotional all of a sudden.
Beth took his hand. "Come on, you can do this," she said gently. "Let's go to my room and get you all dolled up for our grand day out"
Brady sighed but followed her. The door to her room was open, and she had laid out her makeup on the vanity. He sat down, his heart racing as he saw the mascara and lipstick.
"Hold still," she said, her voice firm but gentle as she began to work on his hair. She styled it into soft waves that cascaded down his back. The sensation of her brushing his hair was oddly calming, and he found himself leaning into it like a cat being petted.
Next came the makeup. The smell of her room was a mix of perfumes and hairspray that was both foreign and familiar. Brady watched in the mirror as Beth's deft hands painted his face, her strokes precise and gentle. She applied a light foundation that matched his skin tone perfectly, then a dusting of blush that brought color to his cheeks. She worked on his eyes, using mascara to enhance his lashes and a smoky shadow that made them pop. His eyebrows were filled in and shaped to perfection. He didn't even know he had eyebrows like that.
"You're going to look fantastic," she said, her voice soothing and encouraging.
Brady swallowed hard, his heart racing as he sat in front of the vanity. He watched his sister's reflection in the mirror, her eyes focused and determined. She picked up a tube of lipstick, a shade that matched the color of a fresh strawberry. "I've seen you look at this one before," she said, her voice soft. "You know you want to try it."
With trembling fingers, she lined his lips before filling them in with the bold color. He felt his cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and something else, something he didn't dare to name. The lipstick felt strange on his lips, but he didn't hate it. He couldn't help but wonder what he looked like, what kind of girl he was turning into under his sister’s careful tutelage.
Finally, she stepped back, surveying her work with a critical eye. "Alright, you're ready," she said, her voice filled with a strange mix of pride and concern. "We'll go out of town for today. No point exposing you to people that you might see."
He thanked her for that.
The mall was a different experience with his sister. It was like they were on a mission, a quest to find something they both needed but didn't know what it was. They wandered the gleaming corridors, passing by shops filled with clothes and accessories that Brady had only ever seen on girls in magazines. The smells of various stores wafted around them, the sounds of laughter and music echoing off the walls.
Beth led the way, her eyes scanning the racks and displays like a hawk searching for prey. She pulled him into a clothing store that Brady had never dared to enter before. The mannequins were dressed in clothes that were unmistakably feminine, and he felt his heart race as he stepped through the door.
"Briana, this would look so cute on you!" she gushed as she held a short pink skirt up to his waist.
Briana?
"Who's Briana?" he asked in a hushed tone when they were out of earshot of other customers and the sales clerk.
"You," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I can't very well call you Brady when you're dressed like that. So today, you're my little sister, Briana."
Brady just felt his stomach flip. Sisters? Did she really mean that?
But before he could ask, Beth was dragging him to the next store. "Come on, Bree," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Let's go see what they have in here."
The next few hours were a whirlwind of trying on clothes, giggling in fitting rooms, and receiving approving nods from the sales staff. The name 'Briana' was on the tip of his tongue now, feeling almost natural as his sister called him that with a warm smile. They wandered from store to store, each one offering a new treasure trove of clothes and accessories that made him feel a little less like a boy in a costume and more like a girl on a shopping spree.
They stopped for lunch in the bustling food court, where Brady picked at a salad, feeling the eyes of strangers on him. Beth seemed unfazed, chatting away about her latest crush and the drama at school, using her makeup-laden fingers to punctuate her sentences. He was surprised to find himself opening up, sharing his own thoughts and feelings about the play and his new role as Wendy. It was as if the barrier between them had crumbled away, leaving only a bond that was somehow stronger than before.
That day, they somehow had become sisters.
When they finally got home, Brady felt the weight of his new identity pressing down on him. He'd never felt more like a girl than he did in those hours at the mall, but now that they were back in the sanctuary of their house, he desperately wanted to shed the costume and retreat to the safety of his room. But Beth had other ideas.
"You can't just hide away all afternoon, Bree," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You've got a big date tonight, remember?"
Brady felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "It's not a date," he protested weakly.
"Whatever you say, Bree," Beth smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "But you do need to keep up the look for tonight. It's part of the deal."
What deal? He never made any deal?
"I don't remember saying anything like that?" he protested but Beth ignored.
Instead, she grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the family room in the basement. The basement had once been a place where they stored a bunch of their old and unwanted crap but since Ryan was in their life now, he converted into into another living room of sorts. It was all devoted to entertainment now with a large flatscreen, a comfortable sectional sofa, a little bar so he could entertain some guests and of course a wall of dvds and blurays.
There was even an old school popcorn machine that Ryan had gotten wholesale.
"Let the chick flicking begin!" announced Beth, pushing him onto the couch while she went to gather a collection of her sappy, rom-coms.
Brady watched as his sister picked out movies with titles like "Love, Rosie" and "The Fault in Our Stars". Movies that made girls his age weep like someone had just killed their puppy. He couldn't believe he was going to sit through this, but he didn't have the energy to argue anymore.
They watched movies and ate popcorn until their mother finally appeared hours later. Brady was lost in one of the movies, so caught up in the romance that he didn't even hear her footsteps. Beth met her at the stairs, her eyes shimmering with a strange light. "Mom," she said, her voice low and urgent. "You need to come down here and see something."
Their mother looked at her, a mix of curiosity and weariness etched on her features. She'd been busy with work all day, trying to keep the school play drama from consuming her thoughts. She took a deep breath and followed Beth downstairs, her heels echoing through the quiet house.
As she reached the basement, the sight that greeted her was unlike any she'd seen before. Brady—no, Briana—was curled up on the couch, his legs tucked under him in a way that was unmistakably feminine. He was engrossed in a film, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched a couple share a heartfelt embrace on the screen. The smell of buttery popcorn filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension that had been present in their home only a week ago.
Beth turned to their mother, her voice filled with hope. "Do you see her now?" she whispered, her eyes pleading for understanding.
Their mother gasped. Just like last night. "Yes, I see her."
Beth bit her lip. "Its more than that Mom," She leaned in close. "She's developing up there."
Their mother's eyes grew wide. "But that's..." She took a deep, calculated breath. "Has he noticed or said anything?"
Beth shook her head. "It would be hard not too. I'm guessing he doesn't understand what it means. You should talk to Ryan."
Their mother nodded. "I'll talk to him tonight.”
That night, Brady went on his bowling and movie "date" with Brian and his friends. The excitement bubbled up inside him like a shaken soda, threatening to overflow. He wore the outfit Beth had picked out, the tight jeans hugging his hips and the soft sweater that accentuated his newfound curves. The padded bra felt like a secret between him and his sister.
As they pulled into the bowling alley's parking lot, the headlights illuminated a group of boys from school, all of whom were part of the football team. They were dressed in their usual weekend garb—jeans and oversized shirts, looking like they hadn't seen a hairbrush in days. Brady felt a pang of nervousness, unsure of how they would react to seeing him dressed like this. But then he remembered the way his mother and sister had looked at him, their faces filled with something he hadn't seen in a long time—pride.
The moment he stepped out of the car, the air was filled with a mix of shock and awe. The boys stared at him, their jaws hanging open like they'd just seen a ghost. The change was so stark that even Brady had to admit he looked nothing like the kid they bullied every day. The confidence that came with being with someone else was exhilarating, and he found himself strutting a little as he made his way towards them, feeling every inch of the new person he had become.
Brian's eyes lit up when he saw Brady, and he couldn't help but smile. "You look different," he said, not sure how to connect Brady the boy he knew with this new person before him.
"My sister was a pain," Brady admitted feeling nervous that Beth made him wear this getup tonight.
"Its not bad," Brian quickly recovered. "Its good, real good."
Brady let out the breath he was holding. "Cool, thanks."
Brian nodded. "So, are we going to bowl or what?"
The sound of pins clattering and the murmur of teenage chatter filled the alley as Brady stepped up to the line. He'd never felt so out of place, yet so alive. The weight of the ball in his hand felt like a symbol of his newfound power—his ability to knock down the barriers that had held him back for so long. He took a deep breath, and with a smooth motion, released the ball. It rolled down the lane, straight and true, and hit the pins with a satisfying crash.
They bowled for about an hour before they all headed off toward the movie theater. The movie was some action flick all of them---Brady included---wanted to see. He sat next to Brian, feel a strange comfort with the taller boy being close by. They ended up sharing a popcorn which Brady felt strange about but that strangeness faded as the night went on.
The theater was packed and the lights dimmed. Brady felt a bit nervous as the movie began, but soon he found himself lost in the explosive world of guns, car chases, and explosions. But it wasn't just the movie that was captivating him. It was the way the fabric of his sweater brushed against his new sensitive skin, the way his hair fell down his back and the way the cool air of the theater felt on his bare neck. It was all so...different. So...girly.
Beside him, Brian was equally absorbed in the film, munching on popcorn and occasionally leaning over to whisper something about the plot or an epic stunt. Their shoulders touched and Brady felt a thrill run through him that had nothing to do with the on-screen action. He'd never felt this way before, not even when he'd sat with girls from school at the movies. It was as if every nerve ending in his body was heightened, tuned to a frequency that only existed in the space between him and Brian.
The movie's climax approached, the tension in the theater thick enough to cut with a knife. Brady's heart raced, not just from the explosions and car chases, but from the unspoken energy that crackled between him and the boy beside him. When the hero kissed the heroine, a collective sigh rose from the audience, but it was drowned out by the sudden realization that hit Brady like a ton of bricks—he didn't just want to be the hero, he wanted to be the girl in the arms of the hero.
At the end of the "date", Brian's mother dropped him off at home. He thanked Brian for the fun evening.
That night, he was a mix of strange emotions in bed. It took him hours to fall asleep.
The next week at school was like a dream come true for Brady. The whispers in the hallways had changed from cruel taunts to curious murmurs. He could feel the shift in the air, the way his classmates looked at him now with a mix of respect and intrigue. It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly he was someone worth knowing, someone worth looking at. Every time he saw Brian in the hallway, his heart skipped a beat. The boy would give him a nod, a small smile that seemed to hold the world in it. It was a silent acknowledgment of their shared secret, of the night they had spent together that was more than just bowling and a movie.
As rehearsals for Peter Pan began, Brady found himself coming alive in a way he never had before. The costumes and makeup, which had once felt like a prison, now felt like a second skin. He embraced the role of Wendy with a fierce passion, throwing himself into the scenes with a newfound confidence that surprised even Miss Marsh. She watched him from the sidelines, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she realized the profound effect playing this character was having on him. He was no longer just a boy dressed as a girl; he was becoming Wendy, heart and soul.
Beth started to have an influence on the way he dressed and the way he carried himself. Now when teachers called him "Miss" or someone mistook him for a girl, he didn't go out of his way to correct them. He told himself it was all to perfect his role, to be a better actor but deep down he knew it was something more than that.
One evening, as the aroma of Ryan's famous meatloaf filled the house, Brady gathered his courage and approached his mother and step-father at the kitchen table. His voice was small, barely above a whisper. "I need to tell you something," he began.
Beth exchanged a look with him then one with her mother and stepfather.
His mother looked up from her laptop, her eyes immediately softening. "What's on your mind, Brady?" she asked, setting her work aside.
Brady took a deep breath. "I think...I think maybe I've been wrong about something." His voice wavered, and he felt his cheeks flush.
"Wrong about what, sweetie?" asked his mother with a warm, hopefully reassuring smile.
He took a deep breath. "I don't think I'm a boy".
There it was, the truth was finally out there. It was up to his family now.
The following month was a blur of school, rehearsals, and medical appointments. Brady's life had become a balancing act of navigating his newfound identity, the play, and the whirlwind of emotions that came with it. Each week, he found himself in the quiet, calming office of Dr. Stone, his psychologist. The room was filled with the faint scent of mint, the only thing that remained the same in the ever-shifting landscape of his world. The doctor was understanding, her eyes filled with empathy as she listened to Brady's journey from Brady to Briana.
At school, the play was the talk of the town, and everyone was eagerly awaiting the performance. The rehearsals were intense, but Brady felt alive when he was on stage as Wendy. The script had become his bible, and the cast his newfound family. They supported him, whispering kind words of encouragement, even the ones who had once made fun of him. The play was a sanctuary, a place where he could be himself without judgment.
Miss Marsh noticed the change in Brady. She saw how he'd bloomed into the role of Wendy, and it was clear that the character was not just a costume to him anymore. She called him aside after a particularly powerful rehearsal. "You're doing amazing," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "But I need you to remember that you're still you, no matter what anyone says."
Brady nodded, feeling the weight of her words. "I know," he murmured, though the truth was he wasn't entirely sure who he was anymore. The line between Brady and Briana was becoming increasingly blurred.
The night of the play was electric. The air was charged with anticipation as Brady stepped into the wings, his heart pounding in his chest. The lights were hot, and the smell of greasepaint mingled with the scent of nerves and excitement. He could hear the murmur of the audience, a sea of faces waiting to be whisked away to Neverland. This was it.
Miss Marsh gave him a nod of encouragement as she bustled by, her directorial cape fluttering behind her. The curtain was about to rise, and with it, Brady's world was about to change forever. He took one final look at himself in the mirror, his reflection a blend of Brady and Briana, the boy and the girl. The makeup was perfect, his hair was perfect, and the dress made him feel like a true lady.
He took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. The lights were blinding, the audience a faceless mass of shadows before him. The music swelled, and with a grace that surprised even him, he began to recite Wendy's opening lines. The words flowed from his lips as if he'd been born to say them, and with each syllable, the crowd leaned in closer, drawn into the world of Peter Pan.
As the play progressed, Brady found himself forgetting the lines that had once felt so forced. Instead, he lived the role, feeling the love and longing that Wendy felt for the lost boys, the awe at the sight of flying, and the fear of growing up and leaving the safety of Neverland behind. And when he shared the stage with Jenny, their chemistry was palpable. The way she played Peter Pan with a cocky swagger that made the audience laugh and cheer, it was like watching a mirror image of himself, the boy he used to be, and the girl he was becoming.
TJ got quite a few laughs as Tinkerbelle and Brian was menacing as Captain Hook. Even Chris managed to stand out a bit as Pirate #3.
The final curtain call came, and the applause was deafening. The cast took their bows, their smiles wide and their eyes gleaming with the joy of a job well done. Brady felt himself floating, the sound of the clapping hands like a symphony in his ears. He looked over at Jenny, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and felt a strange kinship with her. They'd both played roles that had tested them, that had pushed them to their limits, and they'd come out the other side stronger, more sure of themselves.
The wrap party was held in the school gym, decorated with streamers and balloons in the colors of the play—green, blue, and gold. The air was thick with the sweet smell of sugary drinks and snacks. Brady had been nervous about attending, but as he stepped into the room dressed as Briana, his heart swelled with excitement. This was his moment to shine, to show his friends who he truly was. He'd chosen a dress that was simple but elegant, something that made him feel beautiful and confident.
As he made his way through the crowd, heads turned and whispers grew louder. His classmates' eyes widened in surprise, but the expressions quickly turned to smiles and nods of approval. For the first time in his life, Brady felt like he belonged. The dress swished around his legs as he walked, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation in every step. This was the moment she and Dr. Stone had been building too for weeks after all.
They had both agreed and already talked with the school, as soon as the play was over, Briana needed to present her true self.
"So this is my new BFF, Bree, huh?" said TJ as she sauntered over, giving Briana a once over.
Briana rolled her eyes. "You've seen me before you goof."
She had revealed her real gender to her friends weeks ago, shortly after the rare medical condition was discovered by the doctors. She was biologically female after all. What little bit down below she had was actually an enlarged clitoris that would be operated on in a few weeks time. She was in fact 100% female every place it counted. She was still trying to come to terms with it all though.
"You're looking hot tonight," said Chris, a plate of food in hand. "You should have seen their faces when you walked in Bree."
She laughed. "Probably as green as mine when I finally agreed to do this."
Briana mingled after that, getting a lot of compliments and support from everyone, Jenny even wanted to go to the mall with her next weekend. When she finally found Brian, he was alone by the punch bowl. She wandered over, wrapping her arms around his waist.
He jumped a bit but turned to smile down at her. "You look amazing, Bree," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Briana felt a rush of heat to her cheeks. "Thanks," she murmured, her eyes dropping to the floor.
Brian was one of the first one she shared her good news with. He was confused at first but after she explained everything, he told her that a small part of him had always known. It was why he was drawn to her in the first place. It was also the reason why she was still with him now, he saw her before she even saw herself. They weren't officially dating, both their parents thought they were too young but they were allowed to go on group outings and call one another "boyfriend" and "girlfriend."
Briana felt a strange mix of emotions that night. She was happy, of course, to be accepted by her peers and to have the support of her new friends. But there was also a sadness, a mourning for the boy Brady that was slipping away. She knew that she was still Brady inside, but the outside was changing, and it was hard not to get lost in the shuffle.
As the party wound down, she found herself in a quiet corner with Jenny. They talked about the play, their future plans, and the boys that had started to take notice of them. Jenny leaned in close, her breath minty from the punch. "You know, I've always had a bit of a crush on you," she whispered.
"What?" asked Briana, shocked.
Jenny giggled. "I think I still do, but I'll let Brian have you." She winked and wandered off.
Briana was floored.
She watched as Jenny wandered over to TJ. She leaned in, whispered something in her ear. Briana watched her friend's face turn a shade of red. Then Jenny grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Briana noticed with a smile that TJ didn't protest once.
"Did Jenny just confess to you?" asked Brian, coming up with some punch for her.
Briana took the cup. 'Maybe."
"So competition," he playfully huffed.
She laughed. "Not on your life."
She then took him by the arm and led him off, she wanted the whole room to know that she was a girl and that Brian was her boyfriend.
It was actually funny, she thought as the two of them danced together. Mrs. Crane had been right all along, the play truly did bring her out of her shell and help her get more friends. She made a mental note to thank her later as she laid her head on Brian's shoulder and let the music carry her away.
The End
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Sam grunted. He'd been here before. Tommy always came up with these crazy pranks and dragged him head first into them.
The first time was when they were eight. Tommy had convinced him to put a rubber snake in Aunt Marge's garden, right when she was planting her precious roses. She had screamed so loud it had echoed across the neighborhood. But instead of laughing, Sam had felt his heart plummet into his stomach as he watched her face turn beet red with fear. It was a look he never wanted to see again.
Then there was the Halloween when they were twelve. Tommy had talked him into switching their grandpa's dentures with a set of vampire fangs. The old man had spent the whole night gumming his favorite candy, unable to bite into it, and glaring at them from across the room with a suspicion that hadn't been there before. The prank had backfired when Grandpa had caught on and pretended to have a heart attack, giving both of them a taste of their own medicine.
Another classic was the time they'd swapped the sugar in Uncle Larry's coffee with salt. Tommy had laughed himself silly while Sam cringed, watching his uncle's face contort as he took a sip, but the lecture that followed wasn't worth the fleeting giggles. Sam had realized then that maybe pranks weren't as funny when you were the one facing the consequences.
So he could only imagine what crazy plan Tommy had now.
"Okay, okay," Tommy began, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You know how all my buddies are always bragging about all these hot dates?"
"No actually," Sam said, rolling his eyes, knowing that Tommy couldn't see. "I've never actually met your friends"
Sam and Tommy didn't live in the same town. They usually communicated through gaming, just like now. Tommy liked to talk about his friends but never thought Sam was cool enough to meet them.
"Well," Tommy continued, ignoring Sam's sarcasm, "my school's having an April Fools' Day dance in two weeks. I want to show them that I can get the most epic date ever."
"And you want me to help you find her?" asked Sam, confused. "Where does the prank come in?"
Tommy chuckled. "Here's the twist, Sammy boy. You're going to be the date. You're going to pretend to be Samantha, my cool cousin from out of town."
Sam's laughter caught in his throat. He stared at the screen, his avatar frozen in place. "You want me to do what?"
Tommy's grin widened. "Pretend to be a girl. You're perfect for it. You're smaller than me, you've got longish hair and you're well..."
Sam sighed. He didn't need Tommy to finish that sentence. Sam was very girly looking. Whereas his two older brothers took after their father, he had ended up looking like his mother. While he didn't get her Nordic height, he got her beauty, including the light blonde hair and icy blue eyes. When he was younger, lots of strangers used to tell his mother she had the most beautiful little girl they'd ever seen. It didn't get any better when he got older either.
"I'll still not sure how this is pranking your friends" he said, hoping to steer Tommy away from this crazy plan of his.
"Just trust me, Sam," Tommy said, his voice filled with excitement. "They're all going to be so shocked when I show up with a gorgeous girl, and then she turns out to be you! It'll be legendary!"
"What's in it for me?" he asked, still not agreeing to it but wondering if Tommy was willing to offer up something worth his wild.
Tommy didn't miss a beat. "How about I buy you that new gaming rig you've been drooling over?"
Sam's eyes widened. That was tempting, but the idea of dressing up and pretending to be a girl for an entire dance was terrifying. "I don't know, Tommy," he said, his voice wavering. "It's pretty extreme, even for one of your pranks."
"Come on, Sam," Tommy cajoled, "you know you've got the looks for it. And think about it, the gaming rig, man! You'll be the king of our online battles."
Sam knew that Tommy wasn't just flaunting his wealth; he was also well aware of Sam's pride. Despite his reservations, he couldn't deny the allure of the gaming rig. It was the one thing he'd been saving for, but his part-time job at the local convenience store wasn't cutting it. Plus, Tommy had a knack for making everything sound like an adventure.
Sam weighed the pros and cons in his head. On one hand he'd be getting a brand new gaming rig but on the other hand, was the humiliation worth it? In the end though, the pros ended up outweighing the cons. Mostly because he didn't actually live in Tommy's town, so anything went south he could go home and never think about it again.
"Alright," Sam finally said, swallowing hard. "But if this goes south, you're buying me something even better than a gaming rig. Like, a lifetime supply of video games or something."
Tommy laughed. "Deal. You're the best, cuz. This is gonna be the best prank ever!"
"This is all on you," Sam pushed.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure no one knows you're not a girl" said Tommy reassuringly and then they continued their game like the conversation never happened.
The next couple of days, Tommy didn't bring it up again. Sam was sure his cousin had completely forgotten about the bet and he was relieved. As much as he wanted the new gaming setup, he didn't want to dress up as a girl for a whole night. He could almost feel the tight dress and the pinch of high heels, the discomfort and fear of being found out. But the silence from Tommy was like a cool breeze on a hot day.
But then, two days after the bet, as Sam walked out of school with his backpack slung over his shoulder and the sun shining down, he saw it. A sleek, black car with tinted windows, parked right outside the school gates. The kind that looked like it belonged in a music video or a movie premiere, not at a school pick-up. And leaning against it, like she had stepped straight out of a magazine, was a stunning young woman. She had long, curly hair that fell in soft waves down her back, and she was dressed in a sharp, tailored suit that emphasized all the right curves. Sam felt his heart jump into his throat as she pushed herself off the car and walked towards him.
"Sam?" she called out, her voice like honey over a microphone.
Sam stopped dead in his tracks, his heart racing. The woman looked like she belonged on a runway, not at his school.
"Hi," she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm Carrie Snow. Mr. Morris hired me to help you with your transformation."
Mr. Morris? Very official.
You've got to be kidding me, he thought. Tommy was really taking the prank this far?
Sam walked over, feeling the eyes of his classmates on him like a spotlight on stage. He took Carrie's hand awkwardly, unsure of what to say.
"I know this is unexpected," she said with a knowing smile. "But don't worry, I'm here to make sure you look and act the part. Mr. Morris has a plan, and I'm here to make it work."
"You don't know this is just one big joke, do you?" he asked, shaking his head.
"Joke or no joke. I've been paid well. My job is to make it work, no questions asked" she said with an award winning smile. "I'm a highly skilled professional".
Sam looked around nervously. "But, what if someone sees me?"
"Honey when I'm done with you, not even your own mother will recognize you" she said confidently.
Sam eyed the car, then at Carrie. He took a deep breath and slid into the back seat. As she climbed in beside him, he felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. He'd never been in a car this nice before, and he definitely had never had a professional makeover artist at his service.
Once they were both in the car, Carrie pulled out an iPad. "Alright, let's get started," she said with a smile that was somehow both reassuring and a little bit scary. She tapped on the screen a few times before turning it to face him. "Here's the plan. We're going to start with your hair. I've got a few options that I think will suit you, and we'll go over makeup, clothing, and how to walk and talk like a girl."
Sam stared at the screen, his mind racing. There were pictures of different hairstyles, makeup looks, and even a diagram showing how to sit and stand "like a lady." He swallowed hard, trying to imagine himself in any of those situations. "Okay," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tommy has gone crazy for a prank, he thought, thinking this was too much already.
"Your hair is perfect for this," Carrie said, her eyes lighting up as she scrolled through the images. "We can add some extensions and style it in a way that complements your features. Trust me, by the end of this, you'll be unrecognizable."
With a sense of trepidation, Sam nodded and the car pulled away from the curb, smoothly navigating the streets to the outskirts of town. The salon was nestled between a chic boutique and an artisanal coffee shop, and as they pulled into the lot, Sam felt his anxiety spike. He had never stepped foot in a place like this, and the thought of being the center of attention was more than a little overwhelming.
"We're doing all this now?" he asked, shocked and nervous.
She gave him a strange look. "Of course we are sweetie. The faster we do this, the quicker you adapt." She patted his hand. "How much have you been told?"
He shook his head. "Only that he wanted to prank his friends and offered me a new gaming rig for helping him pull it off."
Carrie frowned and bit her lip, but said nothing more.
The salon was like nothing Sam had ever seen. It was all chrome and glass, with plush chairs and the faint smell of hairspray and vanilla. The staff looked like they'd stepped out of a fashion magazine, each one more stylish and put-together than the last.
As soon as they walked in, the chatter stopped and all eyes were on them. Carrie strutted to the front desk like she owned the place and said a few words to the receptionist who looked at Sam with a mix of curiosity and pity. She probably thought he was a lost soul who had stumbled in looking for a miracle makeover.
"This is Samantha," Carrie announced, her voice echoing through the salon. "And she's going to be the belle of the ball."
The stylists' eyes widened in unison as they took in Sam's usual laid-back attire—a faded band t-shirt and ripped jeans. One by one, they turned their full attention to him, whispering among themselves and casting sly glances in his direction.
"Oh, honey," cooed one of the stylists, her hair a perfectly coiffed waterfall of blonde waves, "you're going to look amazing once we're done with you."
Sam felt his cheeks heat up as he took a seat in the chair. Carrie had gone full director mode, pointing and whispering instructions to the staff that hovered around him. They moved with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, each one knowing their place and their job. He watched as they began to transform him, snipping and styling his hair, adding in the extensions with a deft touch that made it seem like they were weaving in magic threads. The way they talked about him, like he was a project to be fixed up, made him feel both oddly special and incredibly uncomfortable.
The stylist who was working on his hair, a man named Antonio, was especially chatty. He kept asking Sam about his "style," and Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from correcting him. He mumbled something about liking to keep it simple, hoping that would be the end of it. But Antonio was relentless, his hands moving faster than Sam could think. Within minutes, Sam's hair had been transformed into a cascade of light blonde waves that creepily matched his original hair color.
The makeup artist, a young woman with emerald green eyes named Bella, began to work her magic next. She applied foundation so lightly that Sam couldn't even feel it, and then painted on eyebrows that were perfectly arched and just a shade darker than his own. She tinted his cheeks with a blush that made them look naturally flushed, and highlighted the bridge of his nose. He watched in the mirror as she applied a glossy pink lipstick that somehow made his mouth look fuller. It was like watching an artist paint a portrait, except the subject was his own face.
When Bella was done, Sam was shocked.
The boy staring back at him from the mirror was gone, replaced by a girl who looked eerily similar to the ones in the magazines he sometimes caught his mom reading. His eyes looked bigger and bluer, his cheekbones more pronounced, and his lips full and inviting. He felt like he was looking at a stranger, someone who could turn heads and make jaws drop.
The stylists and makeup artists stepped back to admire their work, their expressions a mix of amazement and amusement. Sam couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was like he had been photoshopped into existence. He reached up to touch his face but stopped, not wanting to mess up the perfection in front of him.
"Excellent work as usual," said Carrie as she walked over, giving Sam a big smile. "Excellent work indeed".
"It was all her," said Bella, beaming. "You found a diamond that only needed a bit of polish".
The compliments were flying around like confetti but Sam was feeling more like a wax figure than a person.
They left the salon and headed to the next stop on their list. The specialty shop was nestled between a high-end bakery and a jewelry store, a small, unassuming door with a tasteful gold plaque that simply read "Boutique Enchantée." Carrie pushed the door open, and Sam stepped inside, the bell chiming a delicate melody. The place smelled faintly of lilies and something else, something sweet but with a hint of something... magical.
The store front made it look like a high end fashion store but for some reason he sensed something else. The woman behind the counter gave Carrie a knowing look and a nod. Then she led them to a room in the back, a room that Sam realized most normal people off the street had never seen.
Carrie led him in with a wink, and Sam felt his heart rate spike. The room was filled with what looked like underwear, but as he looked closer, he realized they were actually padded bra inserts and hip pads. He swallowed hard as the reality of what was about to happen set in.
"Don't worry, darling," Carrie said, her voice soothing. "This is all part of the illusion. We're going to give you the curves of a goddess, without any of the commitment."
Sam felt his face flush as the woman from the counter, who introduced herself as Mademoiselle Chantelle, brought over a selection of garments and padding that looked like they were made of the softest fabrics. He'd never thought about wearing anything like this before, and the idea was both fascinating and unsettling.
"She's sixteen" announced Carrie, "We need something subtle. A modest bust and hips, just to give her the illusion of being the beautiful young woman you see before us"
Mademoiselle Chantelle nodded, her eyes scanning Sam's body with the precision of a sculptor. She pulled out a set of hip pads and a bra with padded inserts. "These will do," she said with a French accent that sounded like a lullaby to Sam's ears. She had him strip to his underwear and began to measure him with a tape measure that was as soft as silk.
Carrie stopped her. "I'd like the breasts to be a bit more permanent. The glue on ones, I need her to get used to it"
Mademoiselle Chantelle nodded, her gaze unwavering from her task. She pulled out a set of glue-on silicone breasts and measured them against Sam's chest. "These should be sufficient," she said, her voice as calm as if she were discussing the weather.
With the same confidence that had filled the salon, she began to apply the pads and breasts, explaining each step as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sam felt his face burn hotter with every piece of fabric that touched his skin, but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to admit how out of place he felt.
Once they were done, Sam put on his clothes from before. Things felt off, they didn't fit the way they fit before.
"Let's go," said Carrie, leading him out of the room. "The next phase is waiting for us."
They arrived at a sprawling shopping mall, a place Sam had only visited a handful of times with his mom. The kind of place where the stores had names he couldn't pronounce and the prices had too many zeros for his comfort. Carrie strutted through the gleaming corridors like a celebrity, her heels clicking against the marble floor.
They entered a store that was a sea of pastel colors and glittering accessories. The saleswomen looked like they were plucked straight out of a teen magazine, all perfect skin and bubbly smiles. "Welcome to Pink Whisper," one of them chirped, and Sam felt his stomach do a flip.
"We need a complete look," Carrie announced to the saleswoman. "Something that says 'trendy but not trying too hard.'"
Sam felt like a mannequin as they flitted around him, tossing dresses and skirts over his shoulders, holding up shoes and accessories for inspection. He had never been much for fashion, preferring his comfortable jeans and baggy t-shirts. But as they started to dress him in the chosen outfits, he couldn't help but feel a strange thrill.
The first dress was a soft pink that made him look washed out, so they moved on to a blue one that brought out the color in his eyes. It was short, showing off his legs more than he was used to, but the way the fabric hugged his new curves made him feel surprisingly confident.
"The hair on your legs is very fine but we'll get you a product to get rid of that" Carrie said as she handed him a top and skirt. "Try these next".
She all but pushed him back into the dressing room.
Sam stared at himself in the mirror. He wasn't sure if he was looking forward to this or if he was about to walk into the lion's den. He slipped on the skirt and top, the fabric whispering against his skin. He had to admit, the outfit was flattering. It was a strange feeling to look in the mirror and see a reflection that was both himself and not himself.
"How's it going in there?" Carrie called out, her voice a mix of impatience and excitement.
"Different" he said, looking at the girl in the mirror.
"Good," Carrie said from outside the dressing room. "Now, let's see if we can find some shoes to match."
Sam stepped out of the dressing room, feeling like he was in a daze. The skirt swished around his legs, and the top clung to his newfound curves in a way that made him feel... different. Like he was wearing a costume that was somehow more real than his own skin. Carrie's eyes lit up as she saw him. "Perfect," she exclaimed. "Now these"
She handed him a pair of strappy 2 inch wedge heels.
"You want me to walk in these?" he asked incredulously, holding up one shoe.
Carrie nodded. "They're perfect. You'll look like you're floating on air."
Sam took a deep breath and slipped his feet into the shoes, wobbling slightly as he tried to get his balance. The saleswoman, who had introduced herself as Tiffany, took his elbow and helped him stand up straight. "Walk," she instructed, her smile never wavering.
Sam took a tentative step forward, his muscles protesting against the unfamiliar footwear. It felt like he was walking on stilts, each step a potential disaster waiting to happen. The mall's shiny floor reflected the light like a lake, and he was acutely aware of every eye on him. He took a few more steps, each one more steady than the last.
"Walk like you own the place," Carrie instructed, her heels clicking confidently beside him. "Shoulders back, chest out, and remember to sway your hips."
Sam did his best to follow her advice, his heart racing with each step. The shoes weren't as bad as he thought, but he still felt like he was going to trip at any moment. The mall's gleaming floors stretched out in front of him like a runway, and he tried to channel the models he'd seen on TV, walking with purpose and poise.
Carrie watched him with a critical eye, nodding in approval as he managed to make his way down the aisle without face-planting. "Good," she said. "We'll work on your posture and gait tomorrow."
They spent the next couple of hours shopping, with Sam feeling more and more like a marionette being dressed and styled by a master puppeteer. They picked out clothes that ranged from cute and casual to elegant and sophisticated, all of which made him feel like he was playing dress-up in his mother's closet. The more they shopped, the more he began to realize that the prank was real, and he was actually going through with it.
The dresses and skirts were a whirlwind of fabric and lace, and the shoes... oh, the shoes. They were like works of art, but with a devilish twist that made Sam's feet ache just looking at them. Carrie had a knack for finding the perfect accessories, adding a sparkly necklace here and a dainty pair of earrings there, until Sam looked like a boy who'd been transformed by a fairy godmother with a sense of humor.
"Alright, Samantha," Carrie said with a satisfied smile as they exited the mall. "You're all set for tomorrow"
"What's tomorrow?" he asked reluctantly.
"Lessons" said Carrie as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You look the part and tomorrow we begin teaching you how to act the part"
They finally left the mall and Sam was driven home.
The driver, a burly man who had said less than ten words to Sam the entire ride, nodded and opened the car door for him. Sam stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of his house, feeling like he was in a dream. The sun had started to set, casting long shadows across the lawn.
"See you tomorrow, darling," Carrie called out as the car pulled away, leaving him standing there in his new heels and skirt.
Sam took one last look at the car before turning towards his house, the shopping bags cutting into his fingers. His heart was racing like he'd just run a marathon, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. As he approached the door, he saw his mother through the kitchen window, her silhouette outlined by the warm light from inside. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was about to come.
He stepped inside, and the moment his mother saw him, her hand froze mid-dishwash. She looked at him, then at the bags, then back at him again. "Sam?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Tommy," he said, as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.
His mother looked at him with a knowing smile. "I should've known," she said, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "What's the plan this time?"
Sam took a deep breath and explained the whole prank, from the gaming rig reward to the professional makeover and shopping spree. She listened intently, her smile never wavering, until he finished with the upcoming dance.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked with genuine concern.
He shrugged. "Tommy didn't actually give me much of a chance to say No"
She sighed and shook her head. "Well take your new things to your room. You can give me a fashion show later if you want"
He said nothing and carried his bags up the stairs, carefully walking in his new heels.
When Sam reached the safety of his room, he dropped the bags on the floor with a thud, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. He looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the full effect of the transformation. The skirt and top made him look like a different person, someone confident and poised, someone who knew how to handle themselves in a room full of strangers. He felt a strange sense of power, like he could do anything if he just pretended hard enough.
He found himself absently striking a pose, feeling sexy and pretty.
"Sam?" his mother's voice called from downstairs, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Dinner's ready!"
He took one last look in the mirror before changing back into his own clothes, his heart racing as he stuffed the bags into the back of his closet. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, feeling the fabric swish over his now-bare chest. His fake chest felt foreign and strange without a bra, so he put it back on with a weird sigh. He slipped on a pair of loose sweatpants and headed downstairs, his hair still cascading in soft waves around his shoulders and down his back.
When he walked into the kitchen, his two older brothers, Mark and Luke, couldn't contain their laughter. "Look at you, Sammie!" Mark said, slapping him on the back. "You're gonna break hearts little sis!"
Sam felt a blush creep up his neck, but he held his head high, letting the teasing roll off his shoulders. He knew his brothers didn't mean any harm; they were just trying to lighten the mood.
"Thanks, guys," he said, trying to sound nonchalant as he took a seat at the dinner table. His mother had made his favorite, spaghetti and meatballs, and the aroma filled the air with comforting warmth.
His parents exchanged a knowing look that made him feel a little self-conscious, but they said nothing as they dished out the food.
As they ate, his mother spoke up. "Sam, honey," she said, "you know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable with any of this."
"Or if you might be enjoying it..." added his father.
Sam took a bite of his spaghetti, chewing thoughtfully. He had to admit, the idea of enjoying this was a bit too much to handle. But he couldn't deny that the outfit made him feel... different. Good, even. "Thanks," he mumbled, his cheeks reddening even more under the scrutiny of his family.
"Seriously, Sam," his father said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You've got the look down. Tommy's friends won't know what hit 'em."
"Thanks, Dad," Sam said, trying to play it cool. But inside, he felt a warm glow of pride. It was strange to get compliments like these from his family, especially when they were about his appearance.
His mother took a sip of her wine and studied him over the rim of her glass. "You really do look good, Sam," she said, a hint of wonder in her voice. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a natural."
The next day, Sam found himself sitting across from Carrie in a quaint café, a steaming cup of tea in front of him. "Now," she began, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "today we're going to focus on posture and voice. You want to be the kind of girl that turns heads, but not because you're slouching like a caveman."
For the next two weeks, Sam's afternoons were a whirlwind of tutelage. Carrie had a knack for breaking down the intricacies of feminine grace into bite-sized lessons, each one more surreal than the last. She taught him how to sit, stand, and walk with poise, his knees always together and his shoulders back, as if he were balancing an invisible book on his head. He practiced speaking in a higher pitch, adding lilts and inflections that seemed so effortless to the real girls at school.
The makeup lessons were the most intimidating. Sam had never been one to even consider the art of contouring, but under Carrie's watchful eye, he learned to sculpt his face with a palette of colors that seemed to have no end. He discovered the power of a good highlight and the secret to a smokey eye that didn't make him look like a raccoon. The smell of makeup remover and hairspray became as familiar as the scent of his own deodorant.
The more days that passed, the further he got away from being Sam and the more he started to become Samantha.
As for school, no one noticed because no one carried. There were so many students, he was just another face in the crowd. The only friends he had were online and nothing changed there. For one faceless person to disappear and be replaced by another, it barely left a mark.
Waking up in the morning, Sam felt a strange sense of déjà vu as he slipped into the routine of applying makeup and donning his new feminine attire. The act of sliding on a bra on and adjusting the silicone breasts had become almost second nature, and the way his hips swayed in the mirror when he put on the hip pads was no longer a source of amusement, but a fact of his new life.
He had to admit, there was something liberating about being Samantha. The way people treated him was different, the way they talked to him, the way they looked at him. It was like he had been granted access to a secret club, one that came with its own set of rules and expectations. And as strange as it was, he found himself enjoying the attention.
The day of the dance, Sam took a deep breath as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had become Samantha, and she was a creature of beauty and mystery. He picked up his phone and dialed Tommy's number, his hand shaking slightly. The line rang once, twice, and then his cousin picked up.
"Hey," Sam said, trying to keep his voice high and sweet, "It's your favorite cuz, Samantha!"
There was a few seconds of silence before Tommy's reluctant and strained laughter crackled through the phone. "Oh man, you're really going through with it," he said, sounding impressed. "How do you feel?"
"Totes amazing!" he said, hamming it up.
He could see Tommy rolling his eyes.
Good, thought Sam, I am after all a Monster of his his creation.
"Seriously dude?" asked Tommy.
He knew how much Tommy hated the ditzy girl routine.
Sam laughed. "Just fucking with you" he said but still using the Samantha voice he'd honed and perfected for the past two weeks.
"Alright, alright," Tommy chuckled. "I've got to admit, you're pretty convincing. Now remember the plan. You're going to show up at the dance, and I'll introduce you to everyone. We'll play it cool, let the rumors spread, and then bam! Pull the rug out from under them at the end of the night."
Sam nodded eagerly, his heart racing with excitement and nerves. "Got it," he said in his best Samantha voice. "I'm going to be the belle of the ball."
Tommy sounded nervous. "Just don't enjoy it too much," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Remember, this is all for the prank."
"Oh, I will," Sam assured him, his voice light and airy. He felt a strange thrill at the thought of the prank, the excitement of the unknown. He had never felt more alive. "I've got the shoes and the dress all picked out. It's going to be fab!"
Tommy chuckled nervously "Dude, you're really getting into this," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know whether to be impressed or scared."
Sam couldn't help but grin. "I guess we're about to find out."
The hours leading up to the dance felt like an eternity as Sam painstakingly applied his makeup, making sure every stroke was perfect. He carefully slipped into the dress Carrie had picked out for him, a sleek silver number that hugged his new curves in all the right places. The fabric was cool and smooth against his skin, making him feel both elegant and terrified.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through his bedroom window, Sam took a moment to appreciate the transformation. He had never felt so... different. So not like himself. He twirled in front of the mirror, watching the skirt flare out around him, the glittery fabric catching the light. It was strange, but it was also exhilarating.
He took a deep breath and grabbed his clutch purse, stuffed with essentials like his phone and a small bottle of makeup remover—because accidents could happen. With a final check in the mirror, he descended the stairs, trying not to trip in his heels. His family was gathered in the living room, watching a movie. His entrance was met with a mix of astonishment and amusement.
"Wow," his brother Luke said, pausing the TV. "You look... wow."
"No shit" said Mark a few seconds later.
"Language," their mother chastised without looking up from her book. When she saw Sam, he mouth hung open. "Samantha, sweetheart, you look gorgeous," she said before she could stop herself.
What she said hung in the air, all of them feeling it.
There had been a shift in the house these last few weeks, everyone present had felt it.
A second later, the doorbell rang.
Tommy.
The name alone sent a jolt of adrenaline through Sam's veins as he stared into the mirror, his heart racing like it was about to break free from his chest. The transformation was complete, and he was no longer Sam, the laid-back gamer; he was Samantha, the enigma about to crash the school dance.
With a final spritz of perfume that smelled faintly of strawberries and a spritz of hairspray that made his hair feel like it was made of concrete, Sam took one last look at himself in the full-length mirror. His legs looked endless in the silver dress, and his eyes, lined with dark liner and smoky shadow, sparkled with excitement and a touch of fear. He took a deep breath and whispered, "You got this, Samantha," before plucking up the courage to tell his Dad to open the door.
The door swung open, and Tommy's jaw dropped. "Dude," he said, his voice low and impressed. "You look... wow."
Sam blushed. "Thank you, Thomas," he said with a smirk.
Tommy chuckled. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."
"You're the one who talked me into it," Sam reminded him, his voice still pitched higher.
Tommy grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I know," he said, "but I didn't expect you to go full method actor on me."
The ride to the school was a tense affair. Sam felt the weight of the prank pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. The silence in the car was filled with the sound of his heart thumping in his chest and the swish of the tires on the wet pavement. Tommy sat next to him, his eyes flickering over to Sam's legs, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come.
How could this be his MALE cousin, he thought, his eyes lingering a bit too long on the clear breasts that Sam was now sporting.
As the car pulled up to the school, the nerves hit him like a ton of bricks. The lights from the dance reflected off the puddles in the parking lot, creating a disco ball effect that made the butterflies in Sam's stomach go into overdrive. Tommy took a deep breath, and they both stepped out of the car. He had to admit, Sam looked stunning.
The school's entrance was a sea of students, all dressed to the nines. The murmur of conversation and laughter grew louder as they approached, and Sam felt his heart rate spike. Tommy wrapped a casual arm around his waists, guiding him through the crowd as if they were old friends.
The gymnasium had been transformed into a glittering wonderland, with streamers hanging from the ceiling and a disco ball casting multicolored lights across the floor. The DJ's bass thumped in Sam's chest, setting the rhythm for the nervousness that had taken hold of him. Tommy led him to a group of his friends, each one looking more shocked than the last. "Guys, this is my cousin Samantha," he said with a smug smile.
The group of teenagers stared at Sam in disbelief, their eyes wide and mouths agape. One of them, a boy named Jake, took a step closer, his gaze traveling up and down Sam's body. "Dude," he breathed. "You're... wow."
Tommy chuckled, a smug look on his face. "I know, right?" He turned to Sam, his eyes gleaming. "Why don't you get us some drinks, babe?"
He smacked Sam on the butt and scooted him away.
Sam wanted to say something, but thought better of it. After all, this was a prank. He supposed now Tommy would make his way to a real girl. Good riddance. As much as he enjoyed Tommy's company as two male cousins might, he'd seen his cousin around girls. There was a lot to be desired there. He scoffed and wandered over to where the punch bowl was. As he walked, he noticed Tommy's friends watching. He also noticed that Tommy was done. Whatever little prank he wanted to pull had apparently been successful.
For awhile, Sam was ignored. He was fine with it. He wandered over to where there were some chairs and sat down. Now the rest of the night, he could make himself scarce. He watched Tommy from across the room, laughing and having a good time.
It was an hour into the dance when someone dropped into the seat next to him. He was one of the guys Tommy had introduced to him, but the name escaped him. The boy was tall with messy hair, a bit of a loner type.
“Hey," said the guy, running a hand through his hair. "Its Paul."
Sam nodded. "Sam."
"Oh I remember, hard to forget." said Paul with a pleasant smile.
Sam smiled back but he didn't really want whatever it is that Paul was about to send his way.
"Look, you seem nice, but I'm not..." Sam started but Paul raised a hand.
"Its amazing." he said, clearly not flirting. "I mean you're an absolutely, gorgeous girl".
"Thanks," said Sam slowly, sensing the inevitable "but" coming.
"Bu," said Paul. "I'm not really into that kind of thing. It's amazing though, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were a real girl."
There it was. The color drained from Sam's face. "What do you mean 'if you didn't know better?'"
Pau gave him a strange look. "THE prank," he said as if everyone knew. "Tommy told us he set it up weeks ago. He said he was going to prank you into coming as his date, dressing up as a girl. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to catch on. I mean he's been talking about it for weeks. How we were all supposed to pretend..."
Paul trailed off when he realized Sam wasn't in on the joke.
Sam was pissed. That fucking Tommy. That lying piece of shit.
"I'm gonna kill him!" he said, angry, ready to pounce.
He started to get up from his chair, ready to storm over and pound the shit out of Tommy for humiliating him like this.
Paul gently grabbed his arm. "Jokes on Tommy" he said with a laugh.
Sam was confused. "What do you mean?".
"You're kidding right" said Paul, gently getting Sam to sit back down. "Look at them. They all know you're a guy and yet, they can't keep their eyes off of you."
Sam looked around and sure enough, every so often every guy around was casting glances his way. They weren't subtle about it either. They were lusting after him. If Paul was right, then all of them still knew he was a guy and yet they all still wanted him.
He felt like he was in some sort of twilight zone. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be the butt of the joke, not the object of desire. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He had to get out of here, had to tell Tommy that he'd had enough.
"The Belle of the Ball," whispered Paul into his ear. "Even Tommy".
Sam looked and sure enough, Tommy was even staring.
“What the hell?” he thought, confused.
Paul laughed. "Serves him right. Here he thought he was messing with you and in the end, you're messing with him. Classic."
Sam was torn between anger and the strange thrill of being desired by the same people he was meant to be humiliated by. Tommy was the prankster, but it seemed like the joke was on him tonight. Paul was still holding his arm, looking at him expectantly. "Come on, Sam," he said, "you've got to show them how to dance."
"What?" asked Sam, flabbergasted. "You know I'm a guy?"
Paul shrugged. "I don't see any guy. Besides, all of them are going to be so fucking jealous."
Sam bit his lip and reluctantly agreed.
The rest of the night was a whirlwind of music and laughter. Paul turned out to be a surprisingly good dancer, spinning him around the dance floor with surprising grace. They danced to slow songs, their bodies pressed together, and fast ones, where they jumped and twirled to the beat. The whispers and stares from the other students didn't bother Sam anymore; he was too busy enjoying the thrill of the moment.
Paul was kind, attentive, and didn't seem to care that he was dancing with a boy dressed as a girl. He taught Sam the latest dance moves, whispering instructions in his ear, and making him laugh when he stumbled. The chemistry between them was palpable, and for the first time that night, Sam felt like he was truly living as Samantha.
As the night grew later, the dance floor grew more crowded, and the lights grew brighter, Sam found himself lost in the moment. He didn't care about the prank anymore; he was just a teenager having fun with a cute boy.
Tommy eventually came over, his eyes wide with excitement. "Oh my god! You're killing it!" he exclaimed, slapping Sam on the back, oblivious to the shift in Sam's demeanor. "I can't believe no one's figured it out yet!"
"Drop the shit. I know about the real prank" Sam coldly let out,, long past being annoyed.
Tommy chuckled. "A good prank is still a good prank"
There was something in his voice though, something in the way the color seemed to have drained from his face.
Who had really pranked whom tonight?
In the car ride home, Tommy's laughter echoed through the quiet night as he recounted the night's events, his eyes shining with mischief. "Can you believe how easy that was?" he exclaimed, slapping his kneel. "You thought you were pranking them, but the reversal. The look on your face, the looks on their faces. You know they thought I was fucking with them, they said there was no way you were really a boy."
Sam said nothing.
Tommy had the car drop Sam off at home. He tried to talk to him but Sam left without saying a thing. When he got into his house, his phone buzzed. At first he thought it was Tommy, texting to rub it in.
Instead it was Paul.
"Hey, I had fun tonight. I wouldn't mind doing it for real if you're interested?"
Wait, What?
Sam was shocked. When he agreed to give Paul his number, he thought it was a platonic two dudes sharing numbers to hook up for gaming or something. Did Paul just ask him out?
"Samantha is that you?" asked his mother from the living room.
"Yes Mom," he shouted, he was so used to being called Samantha it never occurred to him not to answer to the name.
"How was it?" she asked, standing in the living room entryway.
Sam shrugged and then told her what the real prank was. She frowned, mumbled "That little shit," under her breath before heading back into the living room.
He walked up to his room, his heels clicking on the floor, the dress feeling like a second skin. He reached his room, closed the door and absently started to strip. The dress slid off, the pads followed. He looked into the mirror, his heart racing. Who was he looking at?
The bra was next. He felt the weight come off his chest and took a deep breath. He threw the lingerie on the chair and slid into one of the nightgowns Carrie had picked out. It was short, sheer, and made him feel... different. He liked it. The fabric whispered against his skin, cool and light. He felt... pretty.
Lying on his bed, he stared at the ceiling, the dance's lights still playing across his closed eyes. The beat of the music echoed in his chest, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of loss as he laid there. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, anger, and, surprisingly, attraction. But now, alone in his room, the reality of the prank hit him like a ton of bricks.
What did this mean? Where did he go from here?
In the morning, Sam came down to breakfast feeling a bit... off. His hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, the way Carrie had shown him, and he had on a pink tank top and shorts so small they might as well be underwear. The look was casual, something girls might wear when they didn't have plans, which was fitting since Sam had none.
He strolled into the kitchen, the floor cold on his bare feet. The scent of pancakes and coffee filled the air, and he felt his stomach rumble. His parents were at the counter, his dad flipping a pancake with surprising deftness, his mom reading the paper.
"Morning, Samantha," said his dad without looking up.
"Morning, Daddy" he said cheerfully, dropping into a chair.
His Dad walked over and placed a business card on the table in front of Sam. "Your uncle dropped this off last night," he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Carrie wants to talk to you about something."
Sam picked up the card, his heart racing. It had the name of a local modeling agency on it with Carrie's personal number scrawled on the back. "What's this?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Carrie thinks Samantha's got potential. She said you could be the next big thing," said her mother, not looking up from her paper.
Sam held the card up, but something dawned on him. "Wait, how does Uncle Frank even know Carrie?"
Sam's Dad smirked. "Who do you think hired her in the first place?"
Sam opened his mother to say something but then he remembered. THe whole time Carrie had said "Mr. Morris". He just assumed she was being professional when she was talking about Tommy. Now that he thought about it, she never did mention Tommy's name once. “No shit!” he thought, floored.
His uncle had sent Carrie. Which meant...
Sam's Dad chuckled. "Frank always hated Tommy's stupid bets and pranks. He knew what was going on, thought he'd turn the tables on his son for once."
It was then that Sam realized that Tommy had been flustered and flabbergasted all night long. Sure he had meant to prank Sam in the long and wrong, but he even admitted that all his friends thought Tommy was messing with them.
Sam smiled. So in the end, he was the one who accidentally flipped the prank on Tommy.
He held the card and really stared at it.
Who knows?
The End.
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
The trio of pirates strutted ahead of him, their costumes as cheap and uninspired as their pranks. The plastic swords slapped against their thighs with every step, and their eye patches were askew. They were a cliché, a walking stereotype of teenage boys trying too hard to recapture the thrill of their youth. Max couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for them. He knew they were just as lost as he was, trying to fill the void with the echoes of past fun. But the magic was gone, replaced by a hollowness that no amount of sugar could fill.
He stopped being friends with them at the beginning of Middle School. Whereas Max did everything he could to mature, the three of them were far too immature. They were troublemakers and the summer before 6th grade, they nearly all landed in Juvie. It was that scare that drove Max away from them. It was also around that time when his Mom got sick. He found more important things than to fool around with his idiot friends.
Now here they were at the end of Middle School and the three of them were still as childish as ever.
"Come on, Max!" Mark called out, tossing an egg into the air and catching it again. His grin was wide and mischievous. "We've got a whole night of pranks ahead of us. You're gonna miss out if you keep moping around like that!"
Dave and Tim egged him on, their laughter bouncing off the quiet streets like a taunt. Max felt a sigh build in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He knew better than to argue. He had agreed to come out with them, so he might as well go along for the ride. Plus, he was curious to see what kind of trouble they'd get themselves into this time.
He didn't plan to participate though. He learned that lesson the last time. Shoving his hands into his oversized hoodie---a hand-me-down from his older brother---Max tried his best to be as invisible as possible.
The night began with the usual: overturned trash cans, soaped-covered windows, and a few eggs thrown at the principal's house. Max hovered on the fringes, watching them with a mix of amusement and dread. Each prank was executed with the precision of a military operation, yet the joy they once brought him was nowhere to be found. The thrill had faded, leaving only the cold reality of potential retribution.
As they moved deeper into the night, the pranks grew bolder. They snuck into Mrs. Jenkins' yard and rearranged her garden gnomes in compromising positions. The old woman had a penchant for the peculiar, so it was always a hit. Max chuckled despite himself, remembering the time she had chased them with a broom, her laughter as infectious as their own. But tonight, the giggles felt forced, the mischief hollow.
Their next target was Mr. Thompson's house. He was the grumpy old man who had once confiscated their bikes for riding too fast down the street. They'd painted them green and returned them with a glitter bomb hidden in the handlebars. The memory brought a smirk to Max's lips, but the joy was fleeting. As they approached the darkened house, he felt his stomach clench. They were too old for this crap. The thrill of the chase had been replaced with the bitter taste of potential consequences.
Cops could be called now and no amount of "kids will be kids" could talk them out of severe punishment.
Max watched as the others painted a giant phallus on Mr. Thompson's garage door with shaving cream. It was a prank they'd done countless times before, but tonight it felt... wrong. They weren't the same kids they used to be, not since the world had changed so much around them. The weight of their impending teenagehood pressed down on them like a lead blanket, and Max couldn't shake the feeling that their actions had real repercussions waiting just around the corner.
"Let's hit Miss Moore's place next".
Max's heart skipped a beat. Miss Moore was a quiet woman who kept to herself, living in a large house at the edge of town. The whispers and rumors about her had grown over the years like ivy on a crumbling brick wall. Her house was a relic, a two-story Victorian monstrosity that had seen better days. It loomed over the neighborhood, shrouded in shadow and mystery, a stark contrast to the neatly trimmed lawns and well-lit porches that surrounded it. No one ever went there. Not even the bravest of kids dared to knock on her door on Halloween. But tonight, the trio had decided to push their luck.
The house was a sight to behold, with its peeling paint and crooked shutters. The overgrown garden was a maze of dead plants and twisted branches that reached out like skeletal fingers. The moon cast an eerie glow over the property, highlighting the cobwebs that clung to the porch like ghosts caught in a breeze. Max had heard the whispers at school, the tall tales of Miss Moore turning misbehaving children into frogs or making their hair fall out. He didn't believe in witches, but he couldn't shake the unease that clung to him like the sticky residue of a spider's web.
The other three approached the house with a mix of excitement and trepidation, their eyes wide with the thrill of the forbidden. Max held back, his heart pounding in his chest. This was his mother's friend they were about to deface. He'd heard stories of their laughter, their shared love for gardening, and the quiet comfort they had found in each other's company. He didn't have the heart to tell them that though.
Mark tossed the egg in the air, his grin fading slightly as he caught it again. "You coming, Max?"
Max took a deep breath and nodded, stepping forward reluctantly. He didn't want to be the party pooper, but a sinking feeling in his gut told him this was a mistake. "Just do it and go," he murmured, trying to ignore the guilt that whispered through his mind.
This was so stupid.
Max hovered in the shadows as the others approached Miss Moore's house. His heart raced like a rabbit's in a snare. He knew he should've said something, done something to stop them. But the words were lodged in his throat, heavy and unmovable. He watched from the safety of the darkness as Mark, Dave, and Tim tiptoed across the cracked walkway, their shadows stretching out like ghosts before them. They whispered to each other, their excitement palpable. Max felt his palms sweat, his heart thudded in his chest.
The egg smashed against the garage door with a sickening splatter, the yolk running down like a teardrop of regret. The sound seemed to echo through the night, too loud, too real. Max flinched, his eyes darting to the windows of the house, expecting the lights to flicker on and the curtains to part, revealing the wrathful glare of a witch. But the house remained still, silent as a tomb, and the only movement was the gentle sway of the cobwebs in the moonlight.
The boys high-fived each other, their laughter ringing out like a taunt to the sleeping neighborhood. Max's stomach churned. This was wrong. He knew it was wrong. But he remained hidden in the shadows, a silent witness to their juvenile folly. It was better this way, he told himself. He didn't need to be a part of this. He had his own demons to face without inviting more trouble into his life.
With one last look at the egg-splattered garage door, Max turned to leave, the crunch of leaves under his sneakers the only sound in the stillness of the night. But as he took his first step, the world seemed to tilt. A looming form materialized before him, tall and cloaked in darkness, blocking his path. His heart stuttered in his chest, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The laughter of his former friends faded into the background as he stared into the abyss that was Miss Moore.
Her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, piercing through the shadows and locking onto his. The woman was no longer the quiet neighbor from his mother's stories but a terrifying specter of wrath. Her long raven hair danced around her face in the cold breeze, and she was dressed in a flowing gown that whispered of ancient secrets. Despite the fear that gripped him, Max couldn't help but think she was beautiful, even as she bore the weight of the neighborhood's fear and suspicion.
Miss Moore stepped closer, the hem of her gown brushing the leaves beneath her feet, making no sound. Her skin was pale as the moon above, and she had a smile that was both alluring and terrifying. It was as if she knew every dark thought that had ever crossed his mind, every lie he had told, every time he had chosen fear over courage.
"Maxwell, I did not expect to find you as one of the hooligans tonight" she said, her voice cold and chill inducing.
Max's heart pounded like a drum in his chest. He hadn't expected Miss Moore to recognize him, let alone be out here to confront them. She was like a myth, a creature of the night that didn't actually interact with anyone.
"I'm not sure why either" he said softly, most to himself but it was clear she heard him.
Her gaze was piercing, the kind that made Max feel like a bug under a microscope. "The babysitter of these buffoons?" she sighed, stepping around him.
He was frozen in place, too scared to move or utter another word.
The others were still laughing, their laughter echoing through the night air like a taunt to the slumbering street. They had no clue of the storm they had just woken. Max's heart was hammering in his chest like a wild beast trying to escape a cage. He couldn't believe his eyes. Miss Moore, the woman he had always thought of as a gentle soul, had transformed into a creature of the night, a guardian of the shadows come to mete out punishment for their thoughtless actions.
He watched in horror as her gaze turned to the trio of pirates, her eyes narrowing into slits. The laughter died on their lips, their grins fading as the reality of the situation set in. They had crossed a line, one that Max had hoped they'd never find. The line between innocent pranks and something far darker.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the night like a knife.
The trio of pirates stumbled over their words, tripping over their excuses like they were tangled in their own toilet paper. Max could see the fear in their eyes, the same fear that had kept the neighborhood children from her doorstep every Halloween. Mark, Dave, and Tim had always been the brave ones, the leaders of the pack, but now they were trembling before her like leafy shadows in a storm.
Miss Moore's smile grew colder, the kind that didn't reach her eyes. "You think this is a joke?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous. "You think defacing my home is entertainment?"
The three pirates shrank under her gaze, their bravado evaporating like mist in the sun. Max felt a flicker of fear, not just for them but for himself. He had gone along with this, had allowed them to drag him into their mess. He should have said something, done something, to stop them.
Miss Moore's voice was icy as she spoke again, "Follow me, all of you. We're going to have a little chat about respect and consequences."
Max felt a shiver run down his spine as she turned and glided towards the house, her gown trailing behind her like a shadow. He didn't know if he should be more scared of the wrath of an angry neighbor or the fact that she was treating this like an invitation to a tea party from hell. The three pirates looked at each other, their eyes wide with terror.
"Come along," she called out, her voice sweet but the edge of danger was unmistakable.
The three idiot pirates mumbled amongst themselves as they trailed behind her. Max was just in earshot to hear their attempts at coming up with an escape:
"Dude, we're so dead."
Max's heart hammered in his chest as he watched Miss Moore lead Mark, Dave, and Tim up the creaking porch stairs and into her house. The door swung open without a creak, as if it had been expecting them. He knew he should leave, should run back to the safety of his own home, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, his curiosity piqued despite the fear clawing at his gut.
He took a tentative step closer, peering through the open doorway. The house was not the cobweb-infested lair he had imagined. Instead, it was surprisingly clean, with a modern flair that seemed to clash with the outside's Victorian facade. The walls were adorned with sleek black and white photographs, and the floorboards gleamed in the moonlight that streamed through the windows. There was something almost... sterile about the place.
Miss Moore gestured for them to sit in the living room, her movements graceful despite the tension that hung in the air. The couches were plush and new, the kind that looked like no one had ever sat on them. The room was eerily silent, the only sound the occasional tick of a clock that was hidden somewhere in the shadows.
"So," she began, her eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement, "what do you boys expect me to do now?"
They looked at each other, the bravado from earlier now replaced with wide-eyed terror. Mark was the first to speak up, his voice shaking like a leaf in the wind, "We didn't mean any harm, Miss Moore. We were just messing around."
"Messing around?" she asked, incredulously. "You're too old for this. I expect better from the sons of this town."
"We're still kids!" Dave pleaded, trying his best to talk his way out of the cops being called.
Miss Moore smirked, her gaze flickering to each of their faces. "Children, huh?" she mused, before gesturing to a tray of cookies and a steaming pitcher of milk she had set out on the coffee table. "Then please, have some treats. It is All Hallow's Eve after all"
The trio looked at each other, hope sparkling in their eyes. Maybe she wasn't so bad, they thought. Maybe she was just playing with them. They reached for the cookies, greedily stuffing them into their mouths without a care for the mess they had made. Max hovered in the doorway, unsure if he should join them or bolt.
Miss Moore's amusement grew as she poured each of them a glass of milk, her movements smooth and deliberate. Max couldn't shake the feeling that she was watching a bunch of mice in a maze she had built for her own amusement. He took a step back, his hand on the doorknob, ready to bolt if things took a turn for the worse.
"Sugar cookies and spiced milk, everything nice" she mused.
Miss Moore watched as the three of them took the bait without a second thought. The smell of the cookies was heavenly, but Max's instincts told him to stay back. His suspicion grew stronger with every second that passed, his mind racing with the worst-case scenarios. The house was eerily silent except for the sound of crunching cookies and slurping milk.
It was as if time had slowed to a crawl as he watched Dave's hand fly to his stomach, his eyes wide with pain and surprise. The other two looked at him in confusion before the same expression took over their faces. They dropped to the floor, writhing in agony, their cries piercing the stillness of the night. Max's heart raced as he took a step back, his hand still clutching the doorknob.
Dave's body began to shrink before their eyes, his features softening, his limbs growing smaller, more delicate. His clothes, the same pirate garb they had worn with pride, began to melt away, revealing skin that grew paler by the second. The fabric of his costume reformed around him, twisting into a pink ballerina tutu that settled onto a new, smaller frame. The transformation was grotesque, a twisted parody of puberty, as his body shifted from that of a teenage boy to a little girl's.
Mark and Tim stared in horror as their friend's face morphed into a scared, innocent visage, his eyes wide with pain and confusion. Max could only watch, his hand still clutching the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white. The room grew colder, the air thick with the scent of something ancient and unnatural. Miss Moore's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with a dark amusement as she observed the spectacle she had wrought.
Miss Moore waved her hand in front of the little girl's face. "Sleep, sweetie"
The new Dave fell asleep instantly.
Miss Moore turned her gaze to Mark and Tim, who were paralyzed with fear, their eyes like saucers in their heads. Max's heart raced as he watched her walk towards them, her steps echoing in the silent room.
"And what about you two?" she said, her voice a purr. "Do you think this is funny?"
Mark and Tim looked at each other, the color draining from their faces. They hadn't meant for it to go this far, they hadn't meant to hurt anyone. "No, Miss Moore," Mark managed to croak out, his hand already reaching for his stomach. "It's just a prank, we didn't mean—"
But before he could finish his sentence, the pain hit him like a ton of bricks. His body contorted, and he doubled over, his face a mask of agony. Tim looked on in horror, his own hand shooting to his gut as the same transformation began to take hold. Max watched, his heart in his throat, as his two friends crumpled to the floor, their bodies twisting and contorting.
Within moments, Mark lay unconscious beside Dave, now dressed in a frilly cheerleader's uniform, his muscles and height replaced with the soft curves of a young girl. His pirate hat had transformed into a jaunty bow that perched on his head like a sad little crown. Tim's pirate attire had been replaced by a shimmering pink dress and a tiara, turning him into a tiny, trembling princess. Max couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was no mere prank gone wrong; it was something far more sinister.
"Sleep now sweeties" said Miss Moore, waving her hand and putting the two new girls to sleep just like she did with Dave.
Her eyes then turned to Max, and she tilted her head slightly to the side, "But you, my dear," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and something else Max couldn't quite place, "You are different."
"Different?" he asked, not sure what she meant.
"Yes, very different....Amy".
Amy? How could she know that name. No one knew that name, no one except his mother. His Mom would never share their secret though, she made a promise. A promise she took to her grave. Besides, it was nothing now. He stopped it after his Mom got sick. He decided to be realistic and except that the world was a twisted and cruel place. He'd been born in the wrong gender and his mother wanted to help him reach his true potential, help him become her daughter.
The thing was, his Dad wasn't too keen on that kind of thing. He wasn't a bad person but he was set in his ways. He had a lot of outdated and stupid ideas. So they did the mother and daughter thing in secret for years. They only stopped after his Mom got sick. There were more important things to worry about he had told himself.
"I know what you're thinking" she said, giving him warm smile. "Your mother didn't sell you out but she didn't lie to us either."
"Us?" he asked, confused.
Miss Moore smiled. "Her Coven sweetie"
She waved her hand and the door behind them slammed shut.
Coven? Aren't Covens for...
"Witches, right" said Miss Moore, pouring herself some tea. "Your mother and I met in college. We met Trudy a few years later. Magic runs in the family, Amy. Unfortunately it only passes from mother to daughter. Had you been born female, she would have brought you into the fold"
Max felt his heart drop. This is how the world works.
"Its ok" he said then looked quickly to his sleeping friends. He felt a pang of jealousy. "Are you going too?" he asked, slightly hopeful.
She laughed and shook her head. "You did nothing wrong after all"
He was crestfallen. It was his one chance and yet.
"I don't punish those who don't need to be punished, Amy" she said, pouring another cup of tea. "I do however award those who I feel life has wronged"
Her words didn't make sense to Max, not until she handed him the cup of tea. It was sweet and spicy, the same way his Mom used to make it. The warmth spread through his body like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night.
"Drink up," she urged gently.
Max took the cup of tea, his hands trembling. He didn't know what was in it, but something told him it was his ticket out of this nightmare. He took a sip, and the warmth spread through him, filling him with a sense of comfort that was so familiar, it was almost painful. The taste was like his mother's kiss, a blend of love and protection. He downed the tea in one gulp, and almost immediately, the transformation began.
He doubled over, the pain shooting through him like a lightning bolt. His body contorted, his muscles shrinking, his skin softening, and his clothes stretching and changing. The fabric of his shirt and jeans shifted and flowed, morphing into a long, flowing black dress. His sneakers became shiny black boots with a slight heel, and a pointed hat appeared on his head as if by magic. He felt his hair grow longer, cascading down his back in a wave of golden blonde.
Miss Moore's laugh grew louder, the sound grating against his ears. "Look at yourself, Amy," she said, her voice full of happiness and content.
She moved the new girl to look at herself in the mirror. Amy was shocked. She was no longer Max, she was a teen girl now.
"How? Why?"
"It was your mother's dying wish. She wanted you to become the girl that she knew you were inside. We actually spent weeks preparing the spell. I was meant to visit you sometime next month but those three over pushed the time table up."
"What about them?" asked the new teen girl.
Miss Moore waved it off. "It will last about a month. Hopefully it will teach those three some valuable lessons. In the end, it should curb their immaturity and force them to grow up"
"What am I supposed to do? What about my Dad and everything..."
"Tonight you're the babysitter. Tomorrow you're whoever you want to be. Your spell is permanent. We saw to that. The world has been changed, its as if Amy Sullivan has always existed. When those three turn back eventually, you'll find you're barely friends. They're bad influences after all"
Amy couldn't help but nod.
"Now then, how about I wake them up and you take them home after a long night of Trick or Treating and tomorrow you come back here so we can begin."
"Begin what?"
"The rest of your life, sweetie" said the witch, leaning down and kissing Amy on the forehead.
The new teen girl smiled. She could definitely live with that.
The End?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF
Clark's legs pumped faster as he tried to keep pace with his sister, Kelly, on their bikes. Her laughter danced on the wind as she glided effortlessly through the neighborhood streets, her ponytail bobbing up and down like a metronome. The early evening sun painted the world in a warm, golden light, making everything seem like it was part of a picture-perfect postcard. But for Clark, the scene was marred by the persistent feeling of inadequacy that had plagued him his whole life.
"You okay back there, squirt?" she called out without looking back, using the nickname that stung more than she knew. He gritted his teeth and pedaled harder, the wind biting at his cheeks. His heart raced, not just from the exertion, but from the challenge of keeping up with her.
Kelly had always been the star in their family, the one who could do no wrong in their parents' eyes. She was graceful, poised, and incredibly talented in everything she touched. Ballet, in particular, was her domain, where she soared like a swan while he was the awkward cygnet in the shadows.
Kelly was also a competitive girl, like today. It was supposed to be a simple bike ride but of course she had to turn it into a race.
As they approached the park, Clark saw an opportunity. He knew the twisting paths like the back of his hand, and if he could just get ahead, he could lose her in the maze of trees and finally get a moment to catch his breath. He sped up, his eyes scanning the terrain for the perfect shortcut.
With a sudden burst of energy, Clark veered off the main path, his tires crunching over the gravel before hitting the packed dirt of the secret trail. He could hear the fading sound of Kelly's bike behind him and allowed himself a smug smile. But as he rounded the final bend, a root jumped out at him, catching his front tire and sending him flying over the handlebars. He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him.
Panic set in as he realized he'd lost his glasses. Without them, the world was a blur. He rolled over, ignoring the sting in his palms, and began to pat the ground frantically. The sound of his own labored breathing filled his ears. "No, no, no," he murmured, feeling around in the dirt.
The crunch of gravel grew louder as Kelly's bike approached. She skidded to a stop beside him, a mix of concern and surprise on her face. "What happened?" she asked, peering down.
Clark felt a flush of embarrassment and anger. "Nothing," he muttered, still panting. "Just a...a stupid root."
Kelly found his glasses and handed them to him as he got up, brushing dirt off his his bruised knees.
"Thanks," Clark said, taking them with trembling hands. He slid them back on, blinking a few times to clear his vision. The world snapped back into focus, but the sting of his fall remained.
Kelly's gaze lingered on him, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "You okay to keep going?"
"No," Clark replied, his voice tight. "I think I've had enough for today."
Kelly's smile faded a little, but she nodded. "Okay, let's go back."
They turned their bikes around and started the slow journey home. Clark's heart was still racing, but now it was from a mix of adrenaline and frustration. Every bump in the road sent a jolt of pain through his bruised body, and he couldn't help but feel like this was a metaphor for his life. No matter how hard he tried, he always ended up on the ground, while Kelly just danced her way through everything.
The silence between them grew heavier with each pedal stroke. Clark could feel his sister's eyes on him, but he kept his gaze fixed ahead, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. But as they approached their house, the lights inside beckoning like a lighthouse, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "Why do you always have to do this?" he blurted out.
"Do what?" she asked, all innocence.
"You know what," Clark said, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Make everything a competition. It's just a bike ride."
Kelly's eyes widened. "It's not a competition," she protested. "It's just for fun."
"But you're the only one having fun" he mumbled, too low for her to hear.
Clark's eyes took in the rows of identical houses as they pedaled closer to home, each a mirror image of the last with their manicured lawns and gleaming windows. The sameness of it all made him feel like a tiny cog in a much larger, more sophisticated machine. Their house was no exception - a large modern brick structure with a sleek black door that stood out like a stark punctuation mark against the uniform red of the neighborhood. It was the kind of place that looked like it had been plucked straight from a home improvement magazine, complete with a perfectly symmetrical array of flowers lining the walkway.
The twins dismounted their bikes, the sound of their tires against the driveway echoing through the stillness. The garage door yawned open, swallowing their bikes as they wheeled them inside. The door to the house was already unlocked, a testament to the safety of the neighborhood. Clark's mother, Janet, was waiting for them in the kitchen, her eyes scanning over her children as they entered. She was a whirlwind of energy, her apron fluttering around her like a cape.
"How was the ride?" she asked, her voice a perfect blend of cheerfulness and curiosity.
"Fine," Clark mumbled, not meeting her gaze as he rubbed at his sore wrists.
"I won" beamed Kelly, dropping into a seat at the kitchen table.
"Someone turned it into a race like usual" mumbled Clark, dropping into the seat across from his sister.
Janet's eyes darted between the two of them, her smile slipping slightly. "Kelly, you should be more careful with running around like that, you can't afford to get hurt."
Clark felt his stomach drop. It was always like this. Even when he was the one lying in a bruised heap, it was still about her.
He didn't wait for his mother to notice that he was the one that was actually hurt. Instead, he grunted and headed to his room.
Clark's room was a sanctuary of solace. It was the only place in the house where he didn't feel like a shadow to his sister's spotlight. Posters of superheroes and video game characters plastered the walls, each one a silent declaration of his aspirations to be someone more than he was. His bed was a mess of rumpled blankets and pillows, but his desk was meticulously organized, a bastion of order amidst the chaos of teenage angst. A large gaming setup dominated the far corner, the screens casting a soft blue glow across the room. It was here that he could escape into worlds where he wasn't the one always falling behind.
With a sigh, he dropped into his chair and booted up his computer, the whirring fans a comforting lullaby. The login screen for his favorite game, "Galactic Conquest," popped up, the silhouettes of space marines and alien creatures locked in combat against the starry backdrop. He typed in his password, feeling the weight of his bruises fade slightly as he waited for the game to load. It was a world where his size and lack of grace didn't matter, where he could be a hero and not just the tagalong twin.
The game's main menu washed over the screen, the sounds of laser fire and explosions a welcome change from the silence of his room. He clicked on the chat icon and saw that a few of his friends were online. His heart leaped a bit at the sight of their familiar avatars. He typed a quick message, "Hey guys, anyone up for a mission?"
"Sup, Clark?" responded one friend, known online as "DarkBlaze."
"Not much," he replied, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice. "Just had a rough day."
"Aw man, what happened?" asked "LunaLovegood13," another regular in their gaming group.
Clark took a deep breath and shared the story of the bike ride, the fall, and his bruised pride. The words spilled out like a confession, and he felt a strange relief as he typed, as if by speaking it into the digital void, the sting of his reality would diminish.
"Ouch," DarkBlaze responded, the screen name pulsing with emotion. "Sounds rough. Need a heal?
Clark's lips curved into a small smile. "Yeah," he typed. "That'd be great."
Dave, known as DarkBlaze in the game, had been his best friend since they'd met in kindergarten, bonding over a shared love of action figures and cartoons. As they grew older, their friendship had only grown stronger, transcending into the digital realm where they could be the heroes they weren't in real life. Carrie, or LunaLovegood13, had joined their little trio in third grade. A self-proclaimed tomboy with a penchant for fantasy, she'd shown up to school with a bruised cheek one day after standing up to a bully. Clark had been in awe of her courage, and they'd been inseparable ever since.
Now, as they grouped up in the game, their digital personas ready to conquer the virtual battlefield, Clark felt a pang of jealousy. In here, they were all equals, yet out there, he was always the one left behind. "Ready, noobs?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Their laughter filled his headset as they dived into the game, a cacophony of sound effects and explosions that drowned out the whispers of doubt in his mind. For a brief moment, he was someone else, someone important, not just the forgotten twin.
Clark's fingers danced over the keyboard as they played, his mind sharp and focused. It was during these moments that he truly felt alive, his heart pounding in time with the game's pulse-racing music. They battled their way through enemy lines, their strategies seamless. It was as if they were finishing each other's sentences, a silent dance of destruction that left their foes scattered in their wake.
In the game, he wasn't the short, clumsy kid; he was "StellarisSlayer," a fearless intergalactic warrior with a knack for strategy and a swift sword. His teammates looked up to him, relied on him, and he reveled in the power it brought him.
The rest of the week passed by in a blur of pixels and virtual battles. Each day, he'd wake up, hide in his room, and immerse himself in the game. The smell of his mother's cooking wafted under the door, mingling with the faint scent of sweat and dust from his bedroom. The outside world, with all its judgments and inadequacies, faded away as he led his team to victory after victory.
Kelly's laughter echoed through the hallways, a distant melody of social triumph that he could never quite capture. She had friends, a life outside the house, while he was content to slay digital monsters and explore virtual landscapes.
It was summer, they're time to relax and be lazy. Well his time anyway. He knew his sister was busy practicing for her big recital at the end of the summer.
But even though he was in the virtual world most of the week, the real world had a way of creeping in. Every time he heard the doorbell ring, he'd hold his breath, hoping it was a delivery for him. Maybe a new game or some gear for his computer. But it was never for him. It was always for Kelly. Flowers from her dance teacher, or friends stopping by with well-wishes. It was like she was the center of the universe and everyone else was just a planet revolving around her.
But then, it happened. He was in the middle of a heated battle, his heart racing as he coordinated his team's movements with the precision of a seasoned general, when his phone buzzed with a text from his mother. "Clark, we're at the hospital. Kelly had a bad fall at practice. She broke her leg." The words hung in the air, stark and unforgiving. He stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the game suddenly muffled and distant.
The world around him shifted, and for a moment, he felt like he was falling too, plummeting through the void of his own disbelief. His hands froze on the keyboard, his digital avatar left suspended in mid-air as the game continued without him. He reread the message, his brain refusing to process the implications.
He remembered something about an hour. There had been a sharp pain in his own leg for a few seconds. He thought maybe it was a crap, so he got up and moved around for a bit. Now he knew, it was their twin connection. Sometimes, when one of them did something, the other felt it. That pain must have been Kelly breaking her leg.
He cursed. While it didn't seem like he cared for his sister, she was his twin. He loved her.
Clark raced down the stairs, his heart thumping in his chest. Then his mother texted, telling him that everything was fine and they'd be home later. She wanted him to stay put and wait for another text. That was it. His parents didn't even want him at the hospital. He stopped at the top of the stairs, annoyed. It truly was all about Kelly after all.
He paced back and forth in his room, his eyes glued to the clock. Each tick was a knife slicing through his anticipation. What if something had gone wrong? What if she needed him? But his phone remained silent, the digital world within it a stark contrast to the chaos he knew his sister was experiencing.
Finally, he heard the crunch of tires on the driveway. His heart jumped into his throat. He leaned over the banister, his knuckles white against the wood. The front door swung open, and the murmur of his parents' voices grew louder as they approached the stairs.
"Clark," his mother called up, her voice tight. "Your sister's home."
He took a deep breath and descended the stairs, his heart thudding against his ribs like a trapped bird. His father was carrying a teary-eyed Kelly, her right leg swaddled in a thick cast that glinted in the hallway lights. Janet followed closely behind, her arms laden with a set of crutches that seemed almost comically large next to her petite frame. The sight of his sister, so vulnerable and broken, was like a punch to the gut.
"What happened?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Janet's eyes searched his for a moment before she spoke. "It's a clean break," she said, her voice tightly controlled. "The doctor said she'll be fine, but she won't be able to dance for a while."
This made Kelly cry more.
Clark felt a strange mix of emotions as he took in the sight of his sister, usually so poised and graceful, now dependent on their father's strong arms to move. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so vulnerable, and it filled him with an odd sense of protectiveness. His own bruises and scrapes from the bike fall seemed insignificant in comparison.
"Let's get you comfortable," their mother, Janet, said soothingly, her voice a stark contrast to the usual sharpness that filled the air when she talked to Clark. She guided them into the living room, where she carefully set down the crutches next to the couch.
Clark hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do or say. He'd never seen his sister so...human. The cast on her leg looked like a foreign object, a stark white barrier to the world of grace and poise she'd always known. "Do you need anything?" he offered, his voice tentative.
Kelly sniffled, her eyes red and puffy. "Just some ice," she whispered.
Clark nodded, retreating to the kitchen to get it. As he filled a plastic bag with ice, the coldness seeped through to his hand, a stark reminder of the chill that had settled in his heart. He carried it back upstairs, trying to ignore the awkwardness that had settled in the air. His father had already left for the pharmacy to pick up her pain medication, leaving Clark and Janet to tend to her.
He handed the ice pack to his mother, who gently applied it to the cast. The plastic crunched against the material, making Clark wince. "Thanks," she whispered to him, her eyes filled with a gratitude that was as rare as it was confusing.
As the days went on, the house grew quieter without the sound of his sister's ballet slippers pirouetting on the hardwood floors. The echo of her laughter was replaced by the occasional thump of her crutches, a reminder of the gravity of her injury. Despite the tension that usually lingered between them, Clark found himself feeling a strange emptiness. He'd always had someone to compare himself to, someone to make him feel less than, and now she was just...human.
Their mother, Janet, was a whirlwind of worry and care, fussing over Kelly's every need. Meals were brought to her on a tray, her schedule meticulously rearranged to accommodate her new limitations. It was a stark contrast to the usual indifference she reserved for him, and it stung more than he cared to admit.
Clark hovered on the edge of their lives, unsure of his place now that the dynamics had shifted so dramatically. His father was a silent sentinel, his eyes often lingering on the crutches that had replaced his daughter's usual grace. They never talked about it, but the tension was palpable, a thick fog that had settled over the house.
The ballet recital was months away, but loomed like a specter of unspoken disappointment. The posters that once adorned every wall, the reminders of the event that had been her shining moment, now seemed like cruel jokes. The house was a minefield of painful reminders of what could have been.
When she thought he wasn't looking, he noticed his mother kept giving him sideway glances.
The house had shifted into a routine that seemed almost peaceful on the surface. Janet's steps had become a comforting rhythm as she tended to Kelly's needs, bringing her meals, helping her to the bathroom, and fetching whatever she needed. Clark retreated to his room, the sanctum of his solitude, where the whispers of his digital battles were the only things that pierced the silence.
But the air was thick with tension, like the quiet before a storm. He knew his mother was worried, not just about the recital, but about the future. The dance scholarship that had been the golden ticket to a prestigious school was now in jeopardy.
****
Unbeknownst to Clark, Janet and Kelly's dance teacher, Madame DeBois had been talking. They'd been huddled in the kitchen, their voices a low murmur that carried through the house like a ghostly melody.
Madame DeBois was a stern woman, her face a map of wrinkles earned from years of frowning at imperfect pliés and wobbly tutus. She'd seen talent in Kelly from the moment she'd set foot in her class, and the idea of losing her star pupil to a simple accident was unthinkable. Janet had approached her, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and laid out the grim reality: the recital was in two months, and with the cast on her leg, there was no way Kelly would be back on stage in time.
The two women spoke in hushed tones, their words a furtive dance of concern and desperation. "What are we going to do?" Janet had whispered. "The scholarship is riding on this performance."
Madame DeBois had pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing as she studied the situation. It was clear that Janet was grasping at straws, her fear for her daughter's future as palpable as the silence that surrounded them. "Perhaps," she began, her voice a slow crescendo of an idea forming, "there is another solution."
The words hung in the air, a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman. Janet leaned in, her eyes hopeful. "What do you mean?"
"She is a twin" said the older woman.
"You mean Clark? Her brother?" Janet was shocked that someone as distinguished as Madame DuBois would even suggest a thing.
"He has some training yes?" the old woman asked.
Janet sighed. "Yes. They started together. He stuck with it until he was about ten, the boys at school were bullying him fiercely."
Madame DeBois nodded sagely. "Ah, the cruelty of children. But the mind and body remember, especially when it comes to movement and discipline. Perhaps he could fill in for her?"
Janet's eyes widened, the wheels of possibility turning in her head. "You think so?"
Madame DeBois shrugged. "It's worth a try. He is a slight, delicate boy. A few cosmetic alterations and he could easily pass as his sister"
Janet rubbed her chin, the wheels in her head turning. "I'm not sure he'd do it"
Madame DuBois smirked. "Young males are easily persuaded. Offer him something he wants and see how easily he folds to our plans"
The two women agreed he was their best and only option.
****
The next day, Janet approached Clark with a tray of cookies and a cup of steaming hot chocolate, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and trepidation. She knocked gently on his bedroom door, the scent of chocolate wafting under the crack. "Clark, sweetheart, can I come in?"
He paused his game, the clang of virtual swords ringing in his ears. "Sure," he called out, expecting another lecture about his gaming habits or the state of his room.
Janet pushed the door open with her foot, balancing the tray with surprising grace. She set it down on the desk with a gentle clink, the chocolate rippling like a tiny brown pond. "Clark," she began, her voice softer than he'd heard it in ages. "I need to talk to you about something."
He turned in his chair, his eyes wary. "What's up?"
"I've been thinking," Janet began, her voice measured and calculated. She took a seat on the edge of his bed, the mattress sighing beneath her. "You know how important the recital is for Kelly."
Clark nodded, his eyes not leaving the screen. "Yeah, she's talked about it enough."
Janet took a deep breath, her gaze flitting from the half-empty cup of chocolate to her son's profile. "What if I told you there was a way for you to help her?"
Clark's thumb hovered over his game controller, his eyes flickering from the screen to his mother. "What do you mean?"
Janet's hands tightened around the empty cup, her knuckles whitening. "Madame DeBois and I had a chat, and we came up with an idea. With a bit of work and your help, we can still save her scholarship. And the recital."
Clark's gaze snapped to her, his interest piqued. "What idea?"
Janet took a moment to compose herself, her eyes darting to the floor before meeting his again. "Madame DeBois suggested that you could, well, take her place at the recital."
Clark's heart skipped a beat. "What? Me?" His voice was a squeak of disbelief. "I haven't danced in years, and even then, I was terrible!"
Janet's eyes searched his, and for the first time, he saw something other than indifference or disappointment. It was almost like she was looking at him, really looking, like she saw something in him that maybe she hadn't before. "You're not terrible, Clark," she said, her voice gentle. "You have the same genes as your sister. The same potential."
"I'm not sure, Mom..." he said, apprehensive.
She sighed. "Your father and I are willingly to buy you that new game system you've been wanting"
Clark's eyes widened, his hand hovering over his keyboard. "What?"
"Madame DeBois believes that with some training and practice, you could fill in for her," Janet continued, her voice a tightrope of hope and urgency. "Think of it as... a role. Like in your video games, you can be anyone."
Clark's mind raced. The idea was ludicrous, yet it held a strange allure. To step into his sister's world, to be the hero for once—it was a chance to prove himself, not just to his family, but to himself. "But what if I mess up?" he asked, the words sticking in his throat like dry toast.
Janet offered a small, encouraging smile. "You won't," she said, her eyes gleaming with a mix of hope and determination. "You're a smart boy, and you've always had good rhythm. With practice and guidance, I know you can do this."
Clark sighs and agrees.
The next day, Janet woke him up early, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. "Today's the day," she said, her voice filled with excitement and a hint of nervousness. "Madame DeBois has agreed to give you a private lesson before the studio opens."
Clark rubbed his eyes, the reality of the situation crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. He nodded sleepily, his thoughts racing. He hadn't been inside a dance studio since he was ten, and the idea of stepping back into that world was as alien as donning a spacesuit for the first time.
The drive to the studio was filled with a tense silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of Janet's nerves. When they arrived, the studio was quiet, the only light spilling from a single cracked door at the end of the hallway.
Madame DeBois greeted them with a stern nod. She held out a bag with a pink bow on it. "Here," she said, her voice as sharp as the toes of a ballet slipper. "This should fit you."
Clark took the bag, his heart racing as he opened it to reveal a leotard and a pair of tights. The fabric was as foreign to him as the thought of performing in front of a live audience. He looked at his mother, his eyes wide with dread. "I'm supposed to wear this?"
Janet nodded, her smile tight. "It's just for practice, sweetie. To help you get used to moving like a dancer again."
With a deep breath, Clark took the clothes from the bag and headed into the dressing room. The fabric was soft and smooth, sliding over his skin like a whisper. He pulled the leotard over his head, the tightness around his shoulders a strange reminder of a past he'd long since abandoned. The tights clung to his legs, and for a moment, he felt a twinge of the self-consciousness that had driven him away from ballet in the first place.
He stepped in front of the mirror, his heart racing as he took in the reflection staring back at him. His hair was indeed shorter than Kelly's, and a shade darker, but the similarities were undeniable. The same wide eyes, the same button nose, the same delicate frame. The only thing missing was the confidence that radiated from her like a halo.
The leotard and tights clung to his body, emphasizing muscles he hadn't realized he had. For the first time, he saw himself not as the awkward kid who could never quite keep up with his sister, but as a potential dancer. It was a surreal experience, like looking into a funhouse mirror that reflected a version of himself he'd never seen before.
Clark stepped into the studio, his heart racing like a caffeinated rabbit. The room was bathed in a soft glow from the windows, dust motes dancing in the beams of light like tiny fairies. The polished wooden floor stretched out before him, a gleaming stage that seemed to whisper of his impending doom.
Madame DeBois's eyes swept over him, taking in his new attire with a critical gaze. "Better," she murmured, her voice a steely purr. "Now, let us begin."
The first hour of the lesson was a blur of tutus and pointe shoes, of graceful gestures and precise steps that he had never been taught as a male dancer. It was like learning a new language, one that spoke of poise and elegance, of feminine strength and vulnerability. He stumbled over the unfamiliar movements, his muscles protesting against the new demands placed upon them.
Madame DeBois's voice was a firm but gentle guide, her eyes never leaving him as she corrected his posture, his hands, his feet. "Remember, dear," she said, her French accent lilting over the words. "You are not Clark. You are Kelly. You must move with the grace of a swan, not the clumsiness of a hippopotamus."
Clark flinched at the comparison, his cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and determination. He knew he wasn't graceful, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try. The first few steps were awkward, his body resisting the unfamiliar motions, but as the minutes ticked by, something strange began to happen. The stiffness in his limbs started to melt away, and he found himself moving with a fluidity that surprised even him.
Janet watched with laser focus, her eyes never leaving her son. He was clumsy and uncoordinated at first but as the lesson went on, something changed in him. He didn't want to admit it at first but he was a natural. In fact, he took to it faster than Kelly had. She felt a twinge of jealousy and something else, regret maybe? Had she prompted up the wrong child all along? Sure Kelly had talent but Clark, he was like a completely different person out there than the useless son she thought him to be.
Janet wasn't the only one to notice either.
Madame DuBois stared at the boy and smiled. He was better than his sister. Sure he was raw and untamed but in a few weeks, there would be no comparison. She looked over at Janet, at the intense look the woman was given her son. She quickly realized there was no way this woman was going to allow his talent to grow. She'd met many mothers like Janet before. The woman was only focused on making her daughter the best there ever was. She'd heard the way Janet had talked about her son and now having seen the boy perform, it was clear Janet was keeping him down to make her daughter the star.
"I want this boy," she said softly to herself, watching Clark perform a pirouette with surprising grace.
Madame DeBois had seen something in him that Janet had failed to, something raw and untapped. His movements were like a sculpture coming to life, rough around the edges but with a potential that was impossible to ignore. She knew that with the right guidance, he could not only fill in for his sister, but surpass her. The idea was tantalizing, a secret she had to keep to herself.
"I think it would be best if the boy practiced alone," she said to Janet, her voice firm. "We need absolute focus if we are to pull this off. No distractions."
Janet nodded, her eyes lingering on Clark. "But are you sure?"
"Oui," Madame DeBois said with a firm nod. "It is for the best."
Over the next week, Clark found himself alone with the dance instructor, his mother dropping him off and promising to pick up after. It was a strange, liberating experience, the absence of Janet's scrutinizing gaze allowing him to breathe easier. The hours of practice flew by, the studio's mirrors reflecting back a version of himself that was more graceful, more poised than he had ever seen before. The leotards and pointe shoes were no longer a source of embarrassment but a part of a costume that allowed him to become someone else—someone who was not only accepted but admired.
Madame DoBois pushed him hard, her voice a constant presence in his ears as she corrected his form and guided his movements. Yet, there was a warmth in her eyes that he hadn't seen in his mother's for years. She saw something in him, something that made him feel like he could actually pull this off. The barre became his best friend, his personal coach whispering sweet nothings of potential into his soul. He took to the lessons like a duck to water, gliding through the exercises with a newfound ease that surprised even him.
****
Madame DeBois observed the transformation before her with a knowing smile. It was as if she had uncovered a hidden jewel, one that had been buried under layers of doubt and ridicule. She saw in Clark a raw talent that had been overshadowed by his sister's brightness, and she was determined to polish him until he shone just as brightly.
The next few days passed in a whirlwind of leotards and pointe shoes. Clark threw himself into practice, the pain and sweat becoming a strange sort of balm for his bruised ego. With every step and turn, he felt a part of himself blossoming, a part that had been stomped on and ignored for years. Janet's daily inquiries about his progress were met with curt responses and evasive eyes.
Madame DeBois had started to train him not just as a dancer, but as a performer. She knew that the real challenge wasn't just learning the steps, but embodying the role. She whispered tales of fierce pirates and lost princesses, of battles won and love lost, and Clark listened with rapt attention. The stories fueled his imagination, his movements growing more expressive and powerful with every practice.
But outside of the studio, Clark's life remained the same—his mother's indifference, his father's distance, and his friends' disinterest. When he tried to share his newfound passion with Dave and Carrie, they stared at him with confusion. "What happened to the StellarisSlayer?" Dave had joked, not realizing the gravity of the change within Clark.
Clark had always felt a kinship with his gaming persona—strong, respected, and in charge. Now, as he practiced in the studio, he felt something else—a sense of belonging and purpose that the digital world could never provide. He found himself lost in the rhythm of the music, the grace of the movements, and the stories that played out in his head as he danced. The games on his computer gathered dust, their pixelated battles seemingly trivial in comparison to the real-life drama unfolding in his ballet slippers.
When he tried to explain the change to Dave and Carrie, his voice grew quiet and his eyes took on a faraway look. They stared at him, uncomprehending. "It's like... it's like the world makes sense when I dance," he said, fumbling for words. "It's not just about the steps anymore. It's about telling a story, about feeling something... really feeling it."
Dave shrugged, his thumbs flying over his game controller. "I guess I get that," he said, not looking up. "But why do you have to dress like a girl to do it?"
Clark sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not about dressing up, it's about the art, the storytelling." He paused, trying to find the right words. "It's like, when I'm in the game, I'm the hero. But when I'm dancing, I'm not just playing a part—I become the hero. It's... it's real."
Dave and Carrie exchanged glances, their confusion palpable. "Okay, man," Dave said, his voice thick with skepticism. "If you say so."
Clark nodded, his mind already back in the studio. "It's just... different."
"Well, you do you," Carrie said, her eyes returning to the TV.
Clark nodded, his thoughts already drifting back to the dance studio. He had to admit, it was weird to think that a world of tutus and pliés could capture his imagination more than spaceships and alien battles, but here he was. The more he danced, the more he felt a strange kinship with the characters he portrayed, the more he lost himself in the stories the dance told.
He retreated to his room, the scent of sweat and chocolate cookies lingering in the air. His gaming setup sat untouched in the corner, the screens dark and silent, like a forgotten playground. In their place, his computer was now a gateway to a world of pirouettes and grand jetés, of tutus and tutors. He watched YouTube videos of professional dancers, his eyes drinking in every step, every expression.
The music filled his soul, the rhythm pulsing through him like a heartbeat. He found himself moving to the melodies, his body recalling the lessons from the studio with a surprising ease. The more he danced, the more he felt like he was discovering a piece of himself that had been buried under layers of self-doubt and inadequacy. It was as if ballet had always been a part of him, waiting for the right key to unlock the door.
The days turned into a blur of tutus and tights, of leaps and turns that seemed to defy gravity. Each practice with Madame DeBois was a revelation, a peeling back of layers that had been suffocating his true potential. And yet, there was still a looming shadow—the fact that he was doing this to deceive the world, to stand in for his sister. It gnawed at him, a small but persistent voice that whispered of the lie he was perpetrating.
Before practice one day, the dance instructor had a surprise in store. She escorted him to the hair salon next door, her eyes gleaming with excitement. The stylist, a middle-aged woman with a penchant for loud patterns, looked him over with a critical eye. "We're going to give you a little... makeover," she said, her voice lilting with amusement.
Clark's heart sank as he sat in the chair, watching the woman pull out a set of hair extensions and a bottle of hair dye. The smell of peroxide filled the air, making his eyes water. "What are we doing?" he asked, his voice quaking.
Madame DeBois's smile was a mix of excitement and reassurance. "We're giving you a little... enhancement," she said, her French accent thick with mischief. "To make the transformation complete."
The stylist, a plump woman with a penchant for colorful scarves, looked him over with a twinkle in her eye. "Don't worry, mon cher," she said, her voice as warm as a cup of cocoa. "You will be as beautiful as your sister, but with the heart of a lion."
The transformation was startling. As the hair was teased and pinned, as the dye seeped into his hair, Clark felt like he was shedding his old self, piece by piece. The mirror revealed a stranger, someone with softer features and lighter hair, someone who looked like they belonged in a world of tutus and spotlights. It was disconcerting, yet oddly thrilling.
The stylist worked her magic with deft hands, weaving in the hair extensions until they were indistinguishable from his own. She painted the dye with a precision that reminded Clark of a painter adding the finishing touches to a masterpiece. He watched, his heart racing, as the transformation took place. With each stroke of the brush, he saw less of himself and more of the person he was supposed to become.
The process was long and meticulous, the fumes of the chemicals making his eyes water and his nose tickle. But through it all, he remained still, a silent statue as the stylist whispered to him in French, her words a soothing lullaby that helped him focus on the task at hand. When she finally spun the chair around to reveal the new him, Clark felt a strange sense of excitement mingled with fear.
His eyes searched the mirror, finding a reflection that was eerily similar to his sister's. The hair cascading down his back was the same shade of blonde as hers, and the gentle waves that had been coaxed out of the straight strands fell around his face with a softness that made him look more like a girl than he ever had before. The stylist stepped back, a proud smile on her face, and nodded to Madame DeBois. "Perfection," she exclaimed.
Madame DeBois's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Voilà," she said, her voice a mix of satisfaction and triumph. "Now, let us see how well you dance with the hair of an angel."
Clark felt a mix of emotions—fear, excitement, and a touch of defiance—as he took the tutu from her. The fabric was soft and light, the layers of tule fluffing out like a cloud around his waist. He slipped into it, the weight of the costume feeling surprisingly natural against his skin. As he looked in the mirror, the person staring back was a stranger, yet somehow, it was as if he had been wearing a tutu his whole life.
"From now on," Madame DeBois announced, her voice firm and commanding, "you are not Clark. You are Adeline. When you step into this studio, you leave your old self at the door."
Clark's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the name. It was like a secret password, a magical incantation that would transform him into someone else entirely. He took a deep breath, the name rolling off his tongue like a sweet confection. "Okay, I'll be Adeline."
The change was immediate. With the tutu on and the name Adeline on his lips, he felt lighter, more at ease in his skin. The music started up again, the familiar tunes of Swan Lake filling the studio, and he took his place at the barre. The exercises that had once felt so foreign were now second nature, his body moving in harmony with the notes.
Madame DeBois watched him with a critical eye, calling out corrections in a softer tone than before. It was as if she was speaking to a delicate flower, one that could wilt at the slightest touch of criticism. She saw the potential in him now, not just as a stand-in for his sister, but as a dancer in his own right. "You are Adeline," she whispered, her voice a gentle breeze that carried him through the movements.
But as soon as the music stopped, Clark's shoulders slumped, and he was back to being the uncoordinated boy Janet had always seen. It was a stark contrast, one that left the dance instructor feeling a pang of regret. The magic of the tutu and the stage makeup could only hide so much. The real transformation needed to come from within.
Madame DeBois knew what she had to do. If she wanted to mold Clark into the perfect replacement for his sister, she had to have him all to herself. "Janet," she began, her voice measured and firm, "I have been thinking. The transformation from Clark to Kelly is a delicate process. It would be best if he were to stay with me in the days leading up to the recital. The immersion will help him truly become the dancer he needs to be."
"Are you sure its for the best?" asked Janet, a bit annoyed.
Madame DuBois was already giving him far more attention than she ever did Kelly. Especially now, she barely recognized her son. The woman had given him extensions to make his hair long and it was lighter. Not only that, he was in full leotard and tutu now. He looked like any other ballerina. He moved like one too, she noticed. There was a poise and grace there that not even Kelly could achieve.
Janet looked torn, but the idea of her son living with the dance instructor for a few days didn't seem too far-fetched. "Okay," she said after a moment's hesitation. "If you think that's what it takes for him to fill in for Kelly."
Clark felt a jolt of excitement and dread. Staying with Madame DuBois looked at his mother, searching for a hint of the love and support she usually reserved for his sister, but all he found was a tight smile and a nod of agreement. "Thank you," he murmured, trying not to let his nerves show.
The room he was shown to was a shrine to a past he hadn't known existed—Madame DuBois's daughter's childhood sanctuary, preserved in a time capsule of tutus and pointe shoes. The walls were adorned with ballet posters, the bed neatly made with a pink comforter that smelled faintly of lavender. It was a stark contrast to his own room, with its superhero paraphernalia and the faint scent of sweat and electronics.
The dance instructor's eyes searched his face for any signs of discomfort. "You will wear her clothes," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "It is essential that you move as a girl, think as a girl, breathe as a girl. Only then can you truly become Adeline."
Clark nodded, his throat tight. The thought of wearing her daughter's clothes was weird, but he'd do anything to pull this off. He slipped into the frilly dresses and soft tights, feeling the fabric hug his body in a way that was both unfamiliar and comforting. He looked in the mirror, his reflection a blend of boyish features and feminine attire. The transformation was surreal, like he was wearing a Halloween costume that had come to life.
But because of the dress, he looked ten, not thirteen.
The first night at Madame DeBois's was strange. He slept in the soft embrace of the pink comforter, surrounded by the ghosts of a past he had never known. The silence of the unfamiliar room was a stark contrast to the usual hum of his video games and the distant echo of his sister's pirouettes. He dreamt of tutus and tutus, of leaping across the stage with a grace that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
The next morning, the dance instructor woke him with a gentle nudge and a cup of tea. "Rise and shine, Adeline," she said with a smile. The name sounded less like a lie and more like a promise each time she said it. The routine was the same as before—breakfast, warm ups, and then straight to the studio. But now, he didn't have to worry about hiding his new identity from his parents or friends.
The first few days of full immersion were a whirlwind. Clark woke up earlier than he ever had for school, his body now accustomed to the early-morning stretches and exercises. He felt lighter in the tutus and leotards that had once felt so alien, as if they had become a second skin. The smell of the studio, the stickiness of the barre under his palms, and the sound of the piano in the background were now as comforting as his old gaming chair had once been.
Madame DeBois had a strict regimen for him. He was to practice for hours on end, perfecting each step until it was second nature. The tutus and leotards of his new wardrobe became a silent cheerleader, whispering encouragement as he danced. He moved with a newfound grace, the tutus fluttering around him like the wings of a butterfly. It was as if the fabric was alive, responding to his every move, a silent partner in his dance.
The days passed in a blur of pink tutus and pointe shoes. He learned to apply his own makeup, the brushes and compacts feeling awkward in his large hands. Yet, with each stroke of the eyeliner pencil and sweep of the blush brush, he saw Adeline emerge in the mirror. It was a strange sort of masquerade ball happening every day, where he danced with the reflection of a girl who was becoming more and more real with each passing hour.
It was strange how easily he was falling into all of this.
Clark's muscles burned from the constant practice, but the pain was a welcome distraction from the niggling guilt that often crept into the corners of his mind. He was living a lie, but it was a lie that had become surprisingly comfortable. The studio was his sanctuary now, a place where he could be someone else, someone who was not only accepted but admired.
Madame DuBois pushed him harder than ever before, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and determination. "You are not just Clark anymore," she would say, her voice a gentle yet firm reminder. "You are Adeline. You must think like her, feel like her, move like her."
And so he did. Each day, the line between Clark and Adeline grew thinner, until it was almost invisible. He found himself enjoying the quiet moments in the kitchen, sipping tea and discussing dance theory with the woman who had become both his mentor and his confidante. He listened to her stories of the grand stages she had graced, her voice painting vivid images of tutus fluttering and spotlights shining.
In the studio, the hours melded together as he learned to pirouette with the elegance of a swan, to leap with the power of a gazelle. The tutus grew heavier with each practice, the fabric seeming to carry the weight of his secret, but he danced on, each step a declaration of his newfound identity.
Looking in the mirror one morning, all that stared back at him was thirteen-year-old Adeline, who for the time being was Madame DeBois's niece. The soft curves of the tutu and the gentle sweep of his hair obscured the sharp angles of his face, the shadow of his true self hidden beneath layers of tule and tights. His eyes searched for a hint of Clark, but all he saw was a girl with a fierce determination to succeed.
The transformation was complete—both physically and mentally. He had become Adeline, not just in the eyes of his teachers and peers but in his own heart. The mirror no longer reflected the gangly boy who had stumbled into the dance world by accident, but a dancer with poise and potential. It was as if he had slipped into a new skin, one that fit him better than any superhero costume ever could.
Thankfully this was all so he could help out his sister. As soon as it was over, he could go back to being himself.
But as the recital approached, the guilt grew heavier than the tutus. He was living her dream, not just for the night, but for weeks. The dance studio had become his second home, the tutus his armor. Each day, the whispers of doubt grew louder. What right did he have to stand in her place?
He took out his smartphone and called his sister, he needed to hear if she was ok with this all.
"Hey, sis," he said, trying to keep his voice light.
There was a pause on the other end of the line before a small, "Clark?" came through.
"Who else would it be?" he asked with a laugh.
"Wow, I thought you were a girl" she laughed. "What's up with your voice?"
Clark felt his cheeks heat up. "It's nothing," he mumbled, his hand tightening around the phone. "How's your leg?"
"It's okay," Kelly replied, her voice a mix of boredom and pain. "I've got a bunch of physical therapy to do, but I'll be back on my feet soon."
Clark swallowed hard, the weight of his secret pressing on his chest. "That's great," he managed to say. "I'm sure you'll be back to dancing in no time."
"Yeah," she said, the enthusiasm draining from her voice. "But I won't be back for the recital. That's a bummer, huh?"
Clark's heart skipped a beat. "It'll be okay," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "You'll be back for the next one."
"But it's the scholarship," she said, her voice small. "Mom and Madam DeBois talked about it. It's a big deal."
Clark felt the guilt twist into a knot. "I know," he said. "I'll do my best for you."
"You?" she scoffed. "You're not a dancer, Clark."
It sounds like their mother neglected to tell Kelly all the details.
"Mom didn't tell you?" he asked, surprised.
"Tell me what?" she replied, her curiosity piqued.
"Remember how I said I'd do anything to help you?" he took a deep breath, his heart racing. "Well, I've been training to fill in for you at the recital," Clark confessed, his voice shaking.
There was a stunned silence on the line before Kelly spoke up, disbelief coating her words. "What? You? In a tutu?" She burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the phone. "You've got to be kidding me."
Clark felt his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and pride. "It's not funny," he protested, but his voice lacked conviction. "It's a big deal, and I've been working really hard."
Kelly's laughter subsided into a series of snorts and gasps. "Okay," she said, finally catching her breath. "I'm sorry. But... really? You? In a tutu?"
Clark took a deep breath and launched into an explanation of the intense training, the hair extensions, the makeovers, and the hours spent perfecting each move. He talked about the way the tutus fluttered around him and the way the pointe shoes had started to feel like a second pair of feet. He described the feeling of the stage lights on his face and the way the music seemed to pulse through his body, guiding his every move.
Kelly was quiet for a moment, the only sound the faint beeping of her video game in the background. "Wow," she said finally, her voice subdued. "I had no idea."
Clark felt a knot loosen in his stomach. It was the first time she had ever sounded surprised by something he did, and it was a feeling he liked. "Yeah," he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. "It's been pretty intense."
"I can imagine," she said, her voice a mix of awe and skepticism. "But... why didn't you tell me?"
"Mom and Madam DuBois thought it would be a surprise," Clark replied, his voice tight. "They didn't want to jinx it, I guess."
Kelly was silent for a moment, processing the information. "But why you?" she asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "I mean, you've never even liked ballet."
"Hello, we're twins, we look pretty close to one another" he said, rolling his eyes.
Kelly laughed again.
Annoyed, Clark took a selfie, doing his best Kelly smile and sent it to her. A few moments later, Kelly fell silent.
Then finally her "Holy Shit" was the only thing she said.
"We're sisters" she finally said softly.
Clark felt a rush of warmth spread through him. It was the closest thing to a compliment she had ever given him. "Yeah," he said, smiling into the phone. "I guess we are."
For now, he thought.
The days grew shorter, the hours longer, as the recital loomed closer. Each night, Clark lay in the soft embrace of his new bed, staring at the ballet posters adorning the walls, and wondered if he could pull it off. The tutus that once felt like a costume now whispered to him of grace and poise. Each pirouette and jeté brought him closer to the person he was supposed to be—his sister's shadow, her stand-in, her secret.
The studio had become his fortress of solitude, the only place where he truly felt like Adeline. The mirror reflected a dancer with the soul of a warrior, fighting for a chance to shine in the spotlight. Yet, each time he stepped out of the studio, he was Clark again, the invisible twin, the boy who didn't fit anywhere.
On the day of the recital, the air was thick with anticipation. The theatre buzzed with parents, teachers, and dancers, all dressed to the nines. His stomach churned like a tornado, a mix of fear and excitement. He was ready to dance like he had never danced before.
Madame DuBois had worked a miracle. Clark looked like an exact copy of his sister. The hair, the makeup, the tutu—everything was perfect. Even Janet, when she saw him, did a double-take, her hand flying to her mouth. "Clark," she whispered, "you look... amazing."
She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "Make me proud, Adeline".
The theatre lights dimmed, the audience hushed, and the opening notes of Swan Lake filled the air. As the curtain lifted, all eyes fell upon Clark, not as the unsure boy he once was but as the graceful Adeline he had become. Each step was a silent declaration of his commitment, each turn a whisper of the strength he had discovered within himself. The tutus fluttered around him, a cloud of secrets and determination.
His mother watched from the audience, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and disbelief. She had never seen her son like this—his movements so sure, his face a canvas of pure emotion. The tutus, once a symbol of his sister's world, now seemed to be an extension of his own spirit. Janet had to remind herself to breathe, her eyes never leaving the stage.
And then there was Kelly, sitting in the front row, her leg in a cast. Her eyes were wide with shock, her jaw slack. Her brother, the one she had always seen as the shadow to her light, was stealing the show. He danced with a fierce beauty that seemed to come from another world. It was a performance that transcended the limitations of gender and age, a testament to the power of determination and passion.
The audience erupted into applause, a thunderous roar that filled the theatre. The other dancers gathered around him, whispering congratulations, their eyes filled with envy and admiration. Madam DuBois's face was a picture of pure satisfaction, her eyes shining with unshed tears. And Janet, his mother, she couldn't hold back her sobs of pride. She had never seen him like this—his movements so precise, so powerful. For the first time, she saw her son not just as a reflection of her own ambition but as a person with his own dreams and talents.
Kelly sat in the audience, her casted leg bobbing with excitement. Her eyes glistened with a mix of emotions—shock, awe, and something else, something she couldn't quite name. It wasn't jealousy; it was more like watching a part of herself come to life in a way she never had. Her brother, her annoying, awkward twin, had become a dancer, a good one. No, a great one.
The final curtain call came and went, the applause echoing in Clark's ears like the beating of a thousand hearts. As he took a bow, the tutu feeling like it was made of pure victory, he searched the audience for his sister. She was standing now, her crutches forgotten, her eyes shining with something that looked a lot like admiration.
Backstage, the chaos was a whirlwind of tutus and flowers, the air thick with the scent of hairspray and sweat. Madam DuBois hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear, "You did it, my dear. You truly became Adeline."
Clark felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving this identity behind. "Thank you," he said, his voice muffled by her embrace. "But it's time to be Clark again."
Madame DuBois stepped back and studied him, her gaze lingering on the tutu and makeup. "You know," she said gently, "You don't have to leave Adeline behind entirely."
The thought excited and scared him.
As the applause died down and the theatre emptied, Clark felt a strange emptiness settle in his chest. The tutus and pointe shoes that had been his armor for so long now felt like a costume that didn't quite fit anymore. He changed back into his street clothes, the soft fabric of the tutu giving way to the roughness of jeans and a t-shirt. The weight of Adeline's identity remained with him, like a second skin that was now being peeled away.
The car ride home was filled with an awkward silence that was only occasionally pierced by Janet's congratulations and questions about his future in dance. Clark felt a pang of sadness—the world of leotards and tutus was being packed away, like a seasonal wardrobe stored until the next winter. He knew that come summer's end, Adeline would be just a memory, a secret shared by a few.
He walked into the house, the smell of his mother's cooking a stark contrast to the sterile scent of the dance studio. The walls of his room, once a fortress of superhero posters and gaming consoles, now felt like a prison. The tutus and pointe shoes had become a part of him, a silent language of grace and power that didn't quite fit in this world of school and video games.
Clark looked at his reflection in the mirror, the tutu and makeup now gone, leaving behind a boy who felt lost. The Clark that stared back at him was no longer just a gamer, no longer just the twin who didn't quite measure up. He was a dancer. He was Adeline. And he wasn't sure he knew how to be just Clark again.
The weeks that followed were a mix of excitement and confusion. Clark started going to school with a new confidence, the tutus and pointe shoes now a secret source of strength hidden beneath his baggy clothes. He couldn't ignore the way his classmates looked at him differently, whispering about the mysterious new dancer who had stolen the show. He felt a strange thrill at being the center of attention, even if it was for something he hadn't meant to share.
Some kids asked about his longer hair and all he would say is that it grew over the summer. He just hadn't gotten it cut yet.
Kelly, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of questions and excitement. She had watched the videos of the performance over and over again, her eyes wide with wonder. "How did you do it?" she asked him every day, her voice filled with a newfound curiosity and admiration.
"I just did," Clark would reply with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips gave him away.
The twins had never been closer. Now they'd spend hours discussing dance moves and routines, with Clark sharing his experiences and Kelly eagerly listening, her eyes alight with envy and pride. For the first time, it seemed like the spotlight they had always competed for was big enough for both of them.
But Clark's newfound love for dance was a secret that gnawed at him. Each step away from the studio felt like a betrayal to Adeline, the identity he had grown to cherish. He found himself sneaking glances at the mirror, trying to find that graceful ballerina in his reflection. The tutus and leotards called to him from the closet, whispering of pirouettes and grand jetés.
One day, after school, unable to resist the siren's call, Clark snuck into the now-empty dance studio. The barre felt cold under his fingertips, the floor echoing with each tentative step. He had never danced alone as Adeline, only ever under the watchful eyes of his mentor. The silence was deafening, and for a moment, he was just a boy in his sister's clothes, lost and unsure.
But then he heard it—the faint strains of Swan Lake from a distant speaker. His body moved as if on instinct, the tutus fluttering around him as he danced. He didn't need an audience, didn't need the pressure of the recital. He danced for himself, for the joy it brought him, for the person he had become.
As he spun and leaped, the studio's emptiness filled with the ghosts of his training, each step echoing with the encouragement of Madame DuBois. He was no longer just Clark or Adeline; he was a fusion of both, a dancer who had discovered the beauty in his own skin.
Madame DuBois found him there, lost in his dance, her eyes misty with a mix of pride and something else—concern. "Clark," she said gently, using his birth name for the first time in weeks. "I've been looking for you."
He stopped abruptly, the tutu settling around him like a cloud. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just needed to... I don't know, feel it again."
Madame DuBois stepped closer, her expression a mix of understanding and sadness. "You've come so far, Clark," she said, using his name deliberately. "But you can't keep living a lie."
Clark looked at her, his heart racing. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she said, her voice soft yet firm, "that I've seen the passion in your eyes when you dance. The way you move, the way you embody the music—it's something special. And it's something you shouldn't have to give up just because the recital is over."
Her words hung in the air, a question wrapped in a declaration. Clark felt his heart race as he considered her words. Could he continue dancing as Adeline without anyone knowing? The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Madame DuBois saw the turmoil in his eyes and took his hands in hers. "I know this isn't easy for you," she said. "But I believe in you, Clark. You have a gift. And gifts are meant to be shared."
Clark took a deep breath, his heart pounding. If there was a way to keep the magic of Adeline in his life, he had to find it. The idea of hiding it all away was too painful to bear. "Okay," he said finally. "But we have to keep it a secret."
Madame DuBois nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "I'll help you," she said. "But only if you promise to use this gift for good, to honor the art of ballet and the spirit of your sister."
Clark swallowed hard. "I promise," he said, his voice earnest.
And so his new life as Adeline the ballerina was just about to begin and he could hardly wait.
The End?
Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF