Technology in the future will allow someone whose body becomes badly broken, to have their brain put in the body of someone who becomes brain dead. Find out what happens when a 31 year old man ends up in the body of a 17 year old girl, after he is cryogenically frozen following a motorcycle crash. Mean Girls 3026 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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No one ever sees it coming; injury that is. ‘Oh, it can’t happen to me. That only happens to the other guy.’ I’ll admit, I was the same way. Every time I rode my motorcycle, I never gave a second thought to what might happen if someone in a car wasn’t paying attention to me. I never saw myself ending up in a hospital, until it actually happened.

It was a beautiful spring day in upstate New York. I was taking a ride in the Finger Lakes region and was enjoying the scenery, and crispness that was still in the air, as I took my Honda VTX on a tour of the countryside. I never saw the guy who was passing on a double solid line coming at me, until I hit the crest of the rolling hill. Coincidentally, that was also the same time my bike impacted the front of his truck, sending me through the truck’s windshield. I wish I could tell you what happened next, but I don’t know. I was knocked out and have no clue.

Before you ask, yes, I was wearing my helmet. Even when I’ve been in states that don’t require them, I still wear mine. I always explain it like this, ‘My head may be hard, but it’s not harder then the pavement, so I always make sure I have a brain bucket on.'

I woke up in a strange looking room; full of machines and computer screens like none I’d ever seen before. I let my eyes adjust as I kept looking around to try to figure out where I was, and how I got there, that’s when I saw her. She was pretty, in a ‘girl next-door’ sort of way; blond hair and blue eyes, kind of cute, without looking too beautiful to approach. I had no idea who she was, but she was looking around the room just like I was. I quickly realized it was a mirror I was seeing and the girl looking back at me was ME!

“What the fuck?” I said, hoping to bring to the attention of whoever brought me where ever I was, that I was awake. It was then that it dawned on me that the voice I just heard myself speak in wasn’t my own.

It worked. A woman walked in dressed in a doctor’s uniform like you’d see in a bad science-fiction movie about the future. But that wasn’t the part that freaked me out. She looked awfully pale, and her skin didn’t look right. It was almost plastic looking. Either that or she had a REALLY bad makeup artist.

“Ah, good, you’re awake. Right on time.” she told me in a smooth voice that didn’t sound like a computer, so I assumed she was real.

“Where the hell am I lady?” I spat back.

“The more important question you should be asking is when the hell you are? She said with a smirk. “You’re in the year 3026.”

“Yeah, right, quit yanking my chain.”

“Joshua Martin, born December 16, 1976, in Oswego, NY”, she said. “Mother Margaret, father Gerald. You suffered a bad motorcycle crash on April 29, 2008. Your t-2 through c-5 vertebra was crushed. Your parents made the decision to have you cryogenically frozen in hopes that someday we could find a way to either repair your body, or give you a new one.” she told me as she read the pad she was holding in front of her. “As it turns out, we found a perfect donor match with a young lady who recently suffered a severe concussion and was pronounced as brain dead. With the technology and medical advancements over the past thousand years, we were able to transplant your brain into her body.”

“So you mean to tell me that I’ve been frozen for over a thousand years, and the only compatible donor you could find was a girl who was brain dead?” I sighed as I heard my voice again. “That would explain the higher pitch. But I don’t know anything about being a woman.”

“Well I’m afraid you aren’t going to like what I’m about to tell you then,” she told me; as she read the on my face was look of a mix of confusion and anger. “The young lady we put your brain in, was seventeen at the time.”

“Excuse me? I didn’t hear that right.” I said to her with the anger rising to higher levels. “How old is the body I’m in now?”

“Seventeen,” she told me as she looked to double-check her notes; “Ah, sorry, seventeen and a half.”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s three quarters!” I shouted back. “I’m in the body of a seventeen year old girl! Or didn’t you notice that my brain was in the body of a thirty year old man before?”

“Yes, we did think about this long and hard. But it’s for the best. This body you are in, is a perfect genetic match for your brain. It was the only choice. It was either this, or let her body die, and keep you frozen. The girl's parents agreed to this,” she told me.

“Look, Doc, I’m not sure I can do this,” I told her, and then sighed again. “I really need a cigarette.”

“Actually, I’m not what you’d consider a doctor. I’m a medical android. Back in 2050, there was a high rate of doctor and nursing suicides, so they created my kind to take the emotional response that people face everyday out of the way of what’s best for the patient,” she informed me.

“Great, just my luck, a doctor with apathy; haven’t you ever heard of Patch Adams?” I asked her.

“I am familiar with all of Doctor Adams’ work. Why do you ask?”

“If you show the patient you give a shit about them, they will feel better. What you’re telling me, is your kind just care about treating the symptoms, and to hell with the way I feel.”

“That’s a bit of an over generalization, but I can see your concern,” she told me as her face took on a less stern appearance. “Look, I really don’t know how to answer your questions. I am only programmed to diagnose, treat, and explain. My creators never gave me the program to care,” she said, starting to look sad.

“It’s not your fault. I can tell that you feel bad about not being able to care. But that in itself tells me that you do, on some level.” I said as I held out my hand. “I’m sorry I snapped back there, but I never expected to have to be going through this.”

“It’s not a problem; at least you didn’t get violent. I had one patient try to throw me out a window one day,” she said with a smile.

“Wow,” was all I could think to say. “Uh, did you say the girl whose body I’m in now, her parents asked for you to do this?”

“Well, they just wanted their daughter’s body to go on. They are still here, if you’d like to meet them.”

“I guess I’m going to have to sooner or later. I doubt anyone would believe I’m still the same old me.” I said with a giggle.

The doc–that’s what I’m going to call her–left and came back in with a man and woman who looked to be in their late thirties or early forties. The man was kind of average looking. He had a build on him, like he either worked out, or worked a job that he needed to be in shape for. The woman on the other hand, was a completely different story.

Think back to high school, and the head cheerleader, or perhaps the first time you saw a Playboy Magazine. Tall, I’d have put her at about 6 feet tall, and slender, maybe just over 100 pounds. She had the face of an angel, with smooth skin that didn’t need any makeup, and silky blond hair that she had in a ponytail that came to the middle of her back. I couldn’t really tell any more about her at that point, since she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, but the jeans weren’t that baggy, and she appeared to be in pretty good shape.
“These are the people who gave you their daughter’s body.” doc told me. “Mr. and Mrs. Mark and Amanda Smith,” she told me as I held out my hand to them.

Instead of shaking my hand, the woman rushed over and hugged me so tight, I thought my head would pop off. Her husband had to pull her away from me and remind her that the girl they knew wasn’t in this body still. She started to cry, and he held her tight as I rubbed the back of my neck trying to figure out what to say.

“Uh, what was her name?” I asked the group of them standing by my bed

“Amy.”; came the reply from the father.

“That is a Beautiful name.” I said to him as I tried to smile. “Look, I’m not going to try to act like I know what you both are going through. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to loose a child. But for what it’s worth, words can’t begin to express how thankful I am that you both made the choice to do this.”

“Can I ask how old you are?” he asked me as he gently rocked his wife.

“I was thirty one when I had the crash.” I told him. “I got hit on my motorcycle, and was going to be paralyzed from the neck down. That’s when MY parents made the choice to have me frozen.”

“So you’re without anyone too?” he asked, to which I just nodded and started to cry as I came to the realization that everyone I ever knew or cared about was now dead. “And you were a man before right?” to which I just nodded again. “Amanda and I would be honored if you’d come to live with us.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just started crying like a baby right then and found I couldn’t stop. It was as I had my face buried in my hands that I felt two sets of hands on my shoulders and back, that I started to calm down a bit. As I looked up, I saw Mark, and Amanda were holding me, trying to comfort me, like caring parents would a child. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down a bit so I could talk again.

“I’ll be willing to give it a try. But we all need to understand a couple of things. You guys are used to having a teenage daughter around. So I’ll have to make some concessions to the fact that if you act a certain way, or treat me like a child, it’s only because in your eyes, I’m the little girl you’ve spent the past seventeen years raising. Is that fair to assume?” I asked and they both nodded back at me. “Alright, but on the same token, you both need to understand that I have thirty years of memories still in this brain. Thirty years of growing up as a male. And for the last ten years of my life, I was on my own. Working everyday, coming and going as I chose to.” they both nodded again. “If we’re going to make this work, we’re all going to have to cut each other some slack. I’ll do my best to mind the house rules you set down. That’s all I can promise.”

“And in return we’ll try to keep in mind that if you do something that seems a bit odd, it’s because that’s what you’re used to doing.” Amanda told me with a hug.

“Deal.” I told her. “So what should I call you?”

“Wow, that’s a good question.” Mark told me. “It’s not something we’ve really thought about since all this has happened.”

“Then let’s not worry about it right now. We can figure something out later. Right now I’d really like to get out of this hospital gown and into something a bit more comfortable.”

“Right, we have some sweat pants and a t-shirt if you’d like” doc told me.

“Uh, alright, but what do I do about underwear?” I asked as I blushed, coming to the realization that I’d have to wear a bra and panties since girls don’t usually wear boxers.

“We, we brought some of your…I mean Amy’s things from home,” Amanda told me with a blush.

“It’s alright. I understand that when you see me, you still see Amy. I mean, I don’t look like a Josh any more, right?” I asked with a giggle, causing Amanda to do the same. “If it’s alright with you, I kind of like the name Amy.” I said to Amanda, who didn’t say a word. she just pulled me into another head popping hug.

I got dressed and collected the things the hospital had been holding on to for me since my accident. On the ride back to the Smith’s house, I pulled out my wallet and started to cry as I saw the pictures I had of my father and mother. Then I really lost it when I saw the picture of me holding my cousin Jess’ baby on the tank of my motorcycle. He just loved the sound that big v-twin made as I held him like he was my own. It was a look of complete awe and excitement as his mom gave the throttle a couple of twists while his dad took the picture. I was going to surprise him on his birthday the year of my accident with a minibike, but I never got the chance. I guess I was lost in my own thoughts because before I knew it, we were pulling up to a nice house in the same town that I’d grown up in. As I got out, I had a feeling of deja vu. I looked around and though a couple of the houses were gone, I couldn’t forget the block I grew up on.

“What’s the address here?” I asked Mark as he helped me with the box I got from the hospital. He told me and I almost fainted. I was going to live at the same address I’d lived at as a kid.

“What’s wrong?” Amanda asked me, as she caught me from falling.

“This is my house.” I said to her.

“Well, yeah, I guess it is now.”
“No, this is the same address I grew up at as a child.” I explained.

“Wow, small world.” Mark told me as he lead me into the house.

“It’s not the same house, but it’s the same address.” I said as I took my shoes off.

“Actually, this house is on the historical registry. It’s over a thousand years old.” Amanda said.

“Wait a second. Bedrooms on the second floor? And there’s a series of marks on the door jam leading to the room to the right at the top of the stairs?” I asked.

“Yes, how did you know?” Amanda asked me.

“My mom used to mark my height every year when I was growing up.”

“Wow, do you have any pictures of what you used to look like?” Mark asked.

I opened my wallet and pulled out the picture of me and Cam (my cousin Jess’ son) on my motorcycle, then the one of myself getting ready for a pit stop when I was on a racing crew. I had been about Mark’s build, perhaps a bit larger framed, but with all the working out they had us do when I was on the crew, I was pretty fit for my size. I saw both their eyes go wide at first. Having had no real idea what I’d looked like before, and it was kind of funny to watch them looking back at the picture then at me. It was almost like an old Mel Brooks movie skit. The only thing that was missing was a spit take.

“Wow, you were a big boy.” Amanda said with a blush having realized she’d said it out loud.

“Yeah, I guess I was. I played rugby and did the discus on the school track teams when I was in highschool and in college.”

“Where did you study?” Mark asked me.

“SUNY Alfred. I took Mechanical Engineering.” I said with a proud smile.

“No way. So did I.” he smiled back.

“I also was a founding brother of one of the fraternities.” I said again proud of that fact.

“If you tell me Mu Theta I’m going to have to quiz you.”

“Chamaeleon, 21, Thumper, 23, Neon, 11, Mackenzie West, B-3, B-3.” I said smiling. “Shall I continue?”

“What was your name and number?” he asked me.
“Hermes, 9, Spring 1997.”

“Draws, Spring 3006.” he told me. As I was about to ask his house number he cut me off. “We stopped using numbers when the brothers decided it was pointless to try to continue it, since everything up to 300 had been used.”

“Fair enough. I do have a question for you both.” I said looking back and forth between Mark and Amanda. “Do I have to go to school?”

“Unfortunately, the laws on truancy are pretty strict. And since you’re in the body of a 17 year old you will have to go to some sort of school. Be it highschool, or college.” Amanda told me.

“But there is another option.” Mark cut in. “We had been planning on sending Amy to a new school. It’s a bit different then the normal ones. It’s for gifted students.”

“So Amy as you knew her was a brain?” I asked sheepishly.

“Well, her I.Q. was 195.” Amanda told me with a proud smile. “But she never liked to put the effort in at regular school.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” I said with a little giggle. “Being bored all day as the teachers try to explain something so the slower kids can grasp it to at least try to be able to use it on the next test. And in the mean time you just sit there and want to jab your pen through your head to make the stupidity stop.”

“That about sums it up.” said Mark. “Amy pretty much told us the same thing. That was why we had her take the test for the new school on the moon.”

“Say that again?” I asked in shock. “The school is WHERE?”

“On the moon; it’s like a city inside that thing. And the students find it relaxing to be able to glance down at the earth from their rooms after class.” Amanda said with a smile.

“You mean to tell me that there is a moon base that has a school on it?” I asked again in shock.

“Yes. Like you’ll learn, much has changed since you’ve been frozen.” Mark told me as he put his hand on my shoulder.

“Uh, so when do I start school?” I asked hoping I’d have some time to get used to this body first.

“In a month, the new term starts and you’ll be entering as a junior.” Amanda said as she too put a hand on my shoulder.

“Well then mom,” I said as I looked at her. “It looks like you’re going to have to give me a crash course in being a girl.”

Hearing me call her mom, Amanda pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head, then helped me get my box of old things up to my room. She told me that we’d be going out to dinner that night to celebrate the success of the operation, and I’d need to wear a dress. THERE’S SOME GOOD NEWS.

She opened my closet and showed me the fashions she had bought Amy, and to my surprise, the style of dresses hadn’t really changed all that much in the past thousand years. The fabrics were a bit different. They felt lighter weight, yet had higher quality, so I figured they were meant to last longer. I chose a basic black dress to wear since it looked the longest of the bunch and seemed to have the most cover of any of the styles I’d seen in the closet.

“Good choice.” Amanda told me. “I’ve always liked the way that looks on you... I mean Amy.”

“It’s alright mom.” I said with a smile as I tried to get used to calling her mom. “I understand what you mean.”

“Alright, you put that on then come into my room and we’ll do your makeup.” she said with a kiss on the cheek, before she left.

I got to work getting the dress on like I’d seen my girlfriends do back in the day. And to my surprise, it actually wasn’t that hard to do. Even more surprising was how well it fit. It was almost like it was tailor made for this body. I went over to the dresser and looked for a pair of underwear to put on and was taken aback by what I saw. THONGS! They were all thongs in the underwear drawer. I pulled out a pair of cotton black ones with the smallest string for my crack and was met with another surprise. They actually didn’t feel all that bad to wear. I tried to put it out of my head and went across the hall to where my parent’s room had been and found Amanda in the middle of getting dressed herself.

I froze in the doorway as I saw her standing there in noting more then a red lace bra and matching thong. Her body was that of a goddess. That is the only way I can describe it. She had the build of a fitness model, with muscles that weren’t too big, but you could tell she worked out and prided herself on staying in shape. I saw in the mirror that even though she was a mother in her late thirties or early forties, she had a tight, ripped six pack of abs. I couldn’t move. I just stood there mesmerized by the figure of perfection standing before me. She finally saw me looking back at her in the mirror and asked me to zip her up as she pulled on her red dress to match the one I had on. This brought me back to reality as I walked across the room, and pulled her zipper up the middle of her back. It was then that I noticed her dress showed that her back was flawless and the hem of the back opening was at the right height to meet the bottom of her ponytail.

“I take it you’re still getting used to seeing a woman change in front of you.” she said with a smile. “I’m sorry; I forgot to lock my door.”

“It’s alright. I’ll just have to get over it.” I said as I felt myself blush. “If I may add, you have an amazing figure. Maybe we can go for a run in the morning. I used to back in the day, and I found it really helped me clear my head and get ready for the day.”

“Oh honey!” she said as she hugged me again. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I mean.”

“I get it.” I said cutting her off. “Amy never wanted to do that before. It’s alright.”

She just nodded and sat me down at the makeup table. “Alright, let’s just give you a touch of makeup. We don’t want to hide your natural beauty.” she told me as she pulled out a bag of cosmetics.

She went on to put just a touch of pink lip gloss on my lips and just a hint of rouge on my cheeks. Then she had me close my eyes and I felt her brushing something on. When I opened my eyes, she had put on a hint of eye shadow that matched my eyes perfect. Next she started to brush my hair. It felt kind of relaxing to have her do that, and I closed my eyes, letting her do her magic. When I realized she was done, as she shook me gently from my short slumber, I saw that she had braided my hair into a pony tail just like her’s.

“Wow.” was all I could say as I looked at the girl who looked more like a woman sitting there looking back at me in the mirror.

“You like it?” Amanda asked me with a smile.

“Wow. I’d never put my age at seventeen.” I said with a smile back at her in the mirror. “Maybe closer to twenty. But not seventeen. I look beautiful. I feel beautiful.” I said as a chill ran up my spine.

“Are you cold?”

“No, I just came to the realization that I’m a girl; and got a little chill, that’s all. I’ll be fine mom.” I said which caused her to hug me again.

I went down stairs to find Mark already dressed in a classic suit. Again I realized styles hadn’t changed all that much in the past millennia. Mom came down in a pair of shoes that looked about four inches in the heel. She was carrying a pair of black ones in her hand, and handed them to me.

“Here, you forgot shoes.” she said as she gave me the stilettos.

“Uh, I’ve never done this before.” I told her with a sheepish grin.

“It’s alright, just think of it like wearing your running shoes. You walk mostly on the balls of your feet and your toes.”

I did as she asked and put the shoes on. It wasn’t that hard to stand on them, but when I took my first step I nearly fell on my ass. Lucky for me, mom and dad were there to catch me. I got my balance back and started to blush a bit.

“It’s alright dear, just take shorter steps. I find it’s easier to slide one foot in front of the other, kind of like you’re walking a tight rope.” mom told me with a grin.

I just nodded and took a much shorter step in the fashion she suggested. What I noticed at first was it wasn’t that hard to do. Then I realized that walking this way caused my ass to sway like I’d seen in the movies. It always looked like a sexy walk to me, but I was feeling a bit self conscious when I found myself doing it. That is when my inner voice made itself heard.

“Just go with it. The world is going to see you as a girl from now on. You aren’t a thirty year old engineer and racing mechanic anymore. You’re a teenage girl. So you’re going to be going through everything that a normal girl goes through. There’s nothing we can do to change this. So grin and bare it. Don’t make me put us in the psych. ward.”
We got in the car and headed to dinner. Again to my surprise we went to a little Italian place in Oswego, that I’d been to MANY times before. Once seated the waiter took our drink order as we all looked over our menu’s and I of course knew exactly what I wanted to eat.

“I’ll have a glass of water with lemon, and the spaghetti with meat balls, and no dressing on the salad please.” I said handing the waiter my menu with a smile.

I looked over to see Amanda and Mark looking at me with a bit of a puzzled look on their faces and I felt myself start to blush again before Amanda ordered the same thing. Mark got the lasagna, with a glass of red wine, and before I knew it our drinks were at the table.

“I must say. I think I’m going to enjoy having you around Amy.” Amanda told me with a grin. “You never used to get the same thing as I did. I can remember you always telling me that meat is murder.” she then started to blush as she remembered that it was me she was talking to.

“Here’s the way I look at it. God made meat. Man made tofu. Who do you trust?” I said with a giggle. “Of course that doesn’t work when you’re at a party and the cops show up. That’s why I quit drinking, and smoking herb.”

“So you were quite the party animal in college?” Mark asked.

“You never heard the story of what we did to one of the guys who passed out first at alumni weekend?”

“Wait a minute. You’re the same Hermes from the clock tower story?” he asked with a chuckle.

“The one and only.” I said and then saw the look of complete confusion on Amanda’s face. “Back in the day, the first one to pass out at a party who wasn’t in their tent, or in their bed, was fair game to be fucked with. So one night, one of the guys got wrecked, and passed out half in and half out of his tent. The girls all took turns writing on him with paint markers, and then we rolled him into his tent. We figured he needed a lesson on drinking in moderation, so we loaded him in the bed of my truck and drove him back to campus. Still buck naked, but in his tent. We took all his clothes and put the tent on the platform under the clock tower on campus.” I told her as I watched her shock turn to amusement. “The next morning about 7am, a couple of the cell phones went off. One of the guys was talking with the head of public safety, and the guy in the tent was on the phone to one of the other guys. I of course got the blame since we’d used my truck, and they had it on video. So they made me take a urine test and a blood test. The judge made me go to counseling and I gave up the booze and pot.”

“Wow, so we won’t have to worry about you when you go to parties.” Mark said.

“Nope, I’m usually the DD. But then again, I usually piss people off more doing that then when I would get drunk.” I said with a giggle.

“How’s that?” Amanda asked me.

“I take the long way home, and stop at every gas station on the way. I make everyone in the car pony up $5 at every stop and usually end up with $100-$200 a night.”

“That’s evil.” she said with a giggle. “Funny, but evil.”

“If I have to stay sober while all my friends get hammered. Someone’s paying me if I’m driving.” I said with a wink. “Ass, gas, or grass. No one rides for free.”

Our meal arrived and it was just like I’d remembered it. Good thing that in all these years the restaurant hadn’t changed the sauce that was made from a family recipe. All in all it was a good meal. I even got the chance to introduce my new mom and dad to the joy of a cannoli. So it was back to the house to relax a bit before bed. Amanda and I chatted about everything she’d have to teach me about being a girl. The most important would be walking and talking. But we’d have a whole month to work on it, before I’d be on my own on the moon. The only issue of the night came when I reached for her pack of cigarettes when she was having one. I simply lit it and took a long relaxing drag on it, only to see the look of shock on her face as I blew out the smoke.

“Uh, don’t you think you’re a bit young to be smoking.” she asked me.
“Oops, sorry, it’s just I haven’t had one in a while and I usually have one to relax me before bed.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just I saw you do that, and all I see when I look at you is the sweet girl I gave birth to.” she said as she looked sad.

“No, it’s me who should be sorry. I never gave it a thought about how you see me.” I said ashing out the butt in one hand while I took her hand in my other. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to give it up, to make things easier on us all. Besides. I doubt they’ll let me smoke on the moon.”

She hugged me tight and before I knew it, I was ready for bed. Noting really new there, just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in and I was off I dream land in no time. I woke up the next day like I’d always did at around 5am, and found a pair of running shoes that looked like they’d never been used. A quick search of the dresser, gave me a pair of shorts, and a sports bra with the tag still on it. I got dressed and realized that puberty was going to be hell for the next couple of years. I looked at my figure in the mirror and saw that while not fat, there was some room for improvement. When I got to my chest, I noticed for the first time that there were nice round orange sized breasts on my chest. While not big by any means, they did look nice on my thin body, and if from what I’d seen back in the day from the girls I’d dated held true, if I took after Amanda, I’d be dragging small melons around by the time I was done growing. I put the thought out of my head and went to the box they’d given me at the hospital to get my MP3 player.

I find it’s easier to pound out the miles with something upbeat to drive you along. So my choice was the Dropkick Murphy’s, Flogging Molly, and the Tossers. I put my head phones on and as I started my stretching I looked up to see Amanda in a similar outfit to my own. She looked at me funny and I saw her lips moving but all I heard was the music. So I pulled out one of the ear buds and asked her to repeat herself.

“I said, what is that on your arm?”

“Oh this, it’s my MP3 player. It’s a portable music player. You have those here, don’t you?”

“Yes, but our’s are just a single ear piece. That thing looks ancient.” she said with a giggle.

“It is. Remember I’m from the turn of the millennia of 2008.” I said with a giggle of my own. “And besides. I doubt anyone here would know of the bands I used to listen to.”

“Let me have a listen.” she said as she pulled the dangling ear bud to her own ear. I watched her start to bob her head to the music and smile a bit. “You know, I could get used to this new stuff.”

“New? That was what those of us in the know listened to back in 2008.” I said with a giggle.

“Right, sorry, it’s just I’ve never heard it before. So it’s new to me.”

“Come on mom, lets get this over with.” I said as I finished my stretching and walked down the driveway to the street.

We took it easy for a block or two then started to pick up the pace a bit. Not that fast, but enough to get the heart really pumping. I used to do a five mile run in the morning before heading to work, and then a couple of times a week I’d go to a pick up game of rugby with a team from Syracuse. So as you can imagine it came as a shock to me that only after a mile or so, I was spent. But I trudged on and some how made it back to the house. Panting and gasping for breath as I walked the final couple of blocks for a cool down. But I still made it.

“Holy crap.” I said panting hard to Amanda. “Did your daughter EVER work out?”

“Her idea of exercise was going to the mall with her friends.”

“I can see I’ve got my work cut out then.” I said making my way to the house for a drink of water.

“Don’t worry, it’ll get easier.” she said as she took a drink too.

“It’s kind of disheartening. I used to do five miles in the morning every day. And I was ready to drop after only a mile or so today.” I said between slow sips of water. “I’m going to whip this body in to the best shape it’s ever been in I can tell you that.” I said with a confident smile. “But first I need a shower.”

Mom, smiled and nodded as she showed me the bathroom that was in the new part of the house. I did my thing after she showed me where the towels and soaps were. I figured out how to get my hair out of the pony tail and made sure I washed it thoroughly, before turning my attention to the rest of my new body. I found that certain parts caused me to get a bit of a chill as I soaped up. I forced myself to push the thoughts out of my mind, so I could finish.

Once I was done, I dried off and put on a clean shirt and pair of shorts. The brushing of my hair was a bit more difficult then I would have thought it was. Every time I tried to pull the brush through, I’d hit a snarl. So after a couple of attempts, I gave up and went to find mom. She was in the kitchen and upon seeing me she cracked up laughing.

“You look like a drowned rat dear. Let me help you with your hair.” she said ushering me back into the bathroom. “You have to brush this out as soon as you get out of the shower or else you won’t be able to do anything with it.”

“I tried, but kept hitting snarls, so I gave up.”

She just nodded and had me sit down while she brushed my hair out. To my pleasant surprise, she didn’t hit too many snags and I was brushed out and ready to let my hair dry. I took this chance while she finished making breakfast to talk to her about what I’d felt in the shower.

“Um, mom, can I ask you a strange question?”

“Ask me anything. I’m here to help.”

“Ok, I don’t know how to put this, so I’m just going to say it.” I said then paused to take a deep breath. “When I was washing up, I noticed that when I’d wash different parts of my body, I’d get a tingle. Not a bad feeling mind you, but it forced me to stop and have to collect my thoughts before continuing to wash.”

“Oh. Well I guess you found out about the joys of being a woman. You see, we have parts of our bodies that just a touch will feel good; almost pleasurable sexually. It can be a blessing and a curse at times.” she said with a smile. “You see. You’ll have to be careful that you don’t let those feelings overtake your mind, or else you’ll never get anything done.”

“Oh. I guess I was just used to the combination to that sort of thing with my old body.” I said blushing.

“You’re becoming a woman now. So you’ll need to take care.” she started but I cut her off.

“I know, don’t have unprotected sex.” I said with a smirk. “The last thing I want is to get pregnant.”

“It’s not just that. You’ll have to learn basic hygiene as well, or else you can end up with some nasty infections in places where you don’t want to have them.”

“I don’t follow you mom.” I said confused.

“Like when you pee. You need to make sure you wash that area out well and dry it thoroughly.” she said in a serious tone.

“So no more shake, shake, tuck?” I asked with a giggle.

“This is serious young lady. You want to end up with a yeast infection, or how about toxic shock?”

“What the hell are those?”

“A yeast infection happens when your privates aren’t clean. It can itch worse then poison oak, and you’ll stink like rotting fish.” she said in a cold tone that made a chill run up my body. “And toxic shock is when you don’t keep clean when you have your monthly visitor. That can be dangerous. So you’ll have to make sure that you always keep a clean tampon with you just in case.”

“I don’t feel so good.” I said as I started to feel sick, just thinking about everything I’d have to remember now that I was going to be a woman.

“We’ll get through this. I know it’s hard to hear, but every woman goes through the same thing. It’s just a matter of attention to detail, and making sure you stay clean down there.” she told me as she hugged me tight. And just from the hug I did feel a little better.

I don’t know if it’s just knowing that someone cares about me, or if it’s a natural reaction for the body I’m in, but every time Amanda hugs me, I feel a bit better, no matter what’s going on. It just feels good to get a hug. Something I hadn’t had in a while, before my accident. This is going to be an experience to say the least. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge before; I sure as hell ain’t gonna start now.

TO BE CONTINUED.

“You aren’t alone hun.” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “You will never be alone. I know I’m not your mom, but the body you’re in is the body of my daughter. I’ll never let ANYONE hurt you. I’m here for you.” “That goes for me to.” came a male voice from near my door. I looked up to see Mark walking toward me with open arms. Mean Girls 3026 Part 2 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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It kind of felt weird to be sleeping in my old bedroom again. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t so much of sleeping there, as it was sleeping there in a different body. I tried for a few hours to get some much needed rest, but all I ended up doing was staring at the shadows on the ceiling. It was kind of freaky how the mind can do what it wants to do, and you have little say in the fact.

As I lay there, I couldn’t help but think of everything that had been revealed to me over the last couple of days. For starters, I’d been in a motorcycle crash. Alright, I can live with that. I know a lot of guys who’ve had crashes, so that’s not that big a deal. The big deal was that I’d been frozen for over a thousand years, and everyone I knew and cared about was dead. I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes as I started to picture my parents, sitting there in a hospital, looking down at me crying themselves. I don’t know if I could have made the decision they were pretty much forced to make. It was either freeze me, and hope I could be fixed at a later date, or let me be a vegetable. I know they made the right choice, but it was still awkward to think about not having them around.

All my friends were gone. Not that I had that many to begin with, but those that were my friends were long gone from this world. I never really let myself get close to anyone back in the day. I think it might have to do with being an only child, compounded with being the youngest kid in the neighborhood, I pretty much ended up as the whipping boy for the older kids. Until about the end of my freshman year in highschool, when I started lifting weights for Track and Field, I was always a small kid. Usually the last to get picked for games, and the first to get blamed when things went wrong. Like when we broke Mr. Patterson’s window playing stick ball. The bigger kids made me go get the ball. Well, as you could guess, they told me that if old man Patterson asked to tell him that I was the one who did it. It was either that or catch an ass whoopin’ for the rest of summer, and not be allowed to play with them again. Hind-sight being 20/20, I should have just left, and not bothered with those guys. Because I ended up catching an ass whoopin’ from my parents and then had to pay for the window, by mowing the Patterson’s lawn for the summer, then had to rake the yard in the fall. I guess that’s really why I usually try to keep people at a distance for a while.

I do know that my buddy Dave is about the only guy I’d ever take a bullet for if it came right down to it. He and I met, when a mutual friend invited me to karaoke one night. It didn’t take long before Dave and I became about as close as brothers. I actually looked up to him like the older brother I never had. I guess he felt the same way, since he actually told me, one night at the bar, that I was like a little brother to him. We’d go everywhere together. Hunting, fishing, to the races, you name it, we probably were there, together. Hell, he even helped me build an old BSA motorcycle into a chopper. Little did he know that I was building it for his birthday. But he was gone too.

Jennifer, my girlfriend of three years, was gone too. After all that time, she never pestered me about commitment. She knew I loved her with all my heart. I also knew that she loved me the same way. I was going to ask her to marry me when she got back from a business trip she was on, the weekend I crashed. I had the ring all set, and it was a beauty too. I even had a plot of land that I’d managed to scraped together enough money to buy outright, so we could build a house and start a family. I always pictured me and her together with a couple of kids and a couple of dogs, living the American dream.

I think it was about the time I started thinking about Jen, that my brain shut down. The reason I say this was, because the next thing I knew, Amanda was in my room holding me. Rocking me back and forth as she softly stroked my hair, whispering that everything was going to be alright. I finally came to my senses, and saw that both her nightgown, and mine were soaked right through. You don’t have to tell me, because I know it was from my tears. I finally looked up at her, and tried to smile, but that smile never came.

“Why?” I asked her in a weak voice.

“Why what hun?” she asked stroking my hair.

“Why are they all gone, and I’m still here?”

“Because they wanted you to have a chance to be happy.”

“Yeah, right. If they wanted me to be happy, then why the hell did they freeze me, and leave me here all alone?” I asked as the tears flowed once again.

“You aren’t alone hun.” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “You will never be alone. I know I’m not your mom, but the body you’re in is the body of my daughter. I’ll never let ANYONE hurt you. I’m here for you.”

“That goes for me to.” came a male voice from near my door. I looked up to see Mark walking toward me with open arms.

The both of them holding me, kind of made me feel better. I could feel that they really did care about me. But I still wasn’t sure if it was just because they still saw me as their little girl, or as someone who was alone, and needed their love.

They finally left me, when they were sure I was calmed down. But once they left, the realization hit that I really had no idea how to be a girl. Yesterday, when we went to dinner, I simply tried to mimic what I saw Amanda doing. But in less than a month, I was going to be on my own, and I had to cram at least seventeen years of being a girl into that short amount of time. Amanda said she’d help me, but I had a feeling, this was going to be harder than anything I’ve ever done before. She was going to have to help me unlearn thirty years of being a male, and reprogram me to be a lady.

The speaking would be the easy part. The walking would take some work, but I was sure I could get there. The hard part, was going to be all the subtle mannerisms that are unique to being a female. I wonder if this is what my friend Kia went through when she stopped being Kent? Yes, you heard me right.

Kent and I went to preschool together, and since we were the smallest kids in the class, we kind of hung out together, more out of self preservation at first, than anything else. We both figured that if one of us was in trouble, the other could have a chance to go get an adult, since it’s much harder to catch two people than it is one. That soon changed, and we actually became friends. Close friends. All through school, we’d go everywhere together. We’d play the same sports, and most of the time, when we weren’t getting beaten up by the older kids, we were at each other’s houses, playing video games. In highschool, we’d double date, or whatever. He was my best friend back then.

When we went away to college, we were both excited that we were going to be going to the same town. You see, there are two schools in the town, and while I was going to be going to the state school, he’d be just across the main street at the private one. It wasn’t until about a month of being at college that he started to drift away a bit. I didn’t really think much of it at first, but it did kind of bother me that he wasn’t around as much. But that happens sometimes at college.

Near the middle of the first semester, as I was leaving he pizza shop after dinner, I saw a young girl being beat up, across the street. I’ve always been taught that you NEVER hit a girl, and since I had started playing rugby, I wasn’t as scared as I might have been to step in as I would have been a few years ago.

She was down on the ground and as one of the guys was kicking her, I hit him with the hardest tackle I’d ever laid on anyone in my life. As his body slammed against the corner of the building he was driven into, I could feel, and hear his ribs break. As I let him go, his two buddies came at me, and dove at me from opposite sides of my body. Now for those of you who aren’t physics majors, let me explain what happened when I simply ducked down. You see, and object in motion tends to stay in motion, unless acted upon by an outside force. That being said, when one person jumps at another, the only thing that will stop them from continuing on their path, is when they impact the person at which they are jumping. So, when I ducked, one guy flew over the top of me, and ended up hitting head on with the other guy who was also airborne at the time, knocking each other out cold.

Before anything else happened, I grabbed the girl, and we ran back across the street to my car. Once inside, she turned to me crying and thanked me. That’s when it dawned on me that I recognized her voice. I tried to calm down enough to figure out who she was, but she beat me to it.

“It’s me Josh.” she said starting to cry. “It’s Kent.”

Have you ever seen what a deer looks like when it’s in the headlights of a tractor trailer, that’s coming right at it? That was me that night. I just sat there in my car, my mouth hanging open from shock, staring at my best friend who looked more like a woman than the girl I had just broken up with.

“Kent?” I asked as I moved my head around to try to see if I could see in the light of the street lamp we were under if it was really him.

“Look, let’s just go back to my apartment, and I’ll explain, alright?”

I started the car, and since it’s a small town, we were at his place pretty quick. Once inside, I started looking around and things weren’t adding up. For starters, the apartment was spotless. I mean, obsessive-compulsive/ anal-retentively spotless. Kent was always a neat freak, but his place looked like it could be in a magazine rather than being lived in by a college student. He offered me a drink and we both sat down on his couch to talk about what was going on.

He explained to me that he was trans-gender. The way he explained it, was that all his life, for as far back as he could remember, he always felt as if he were a girl. He did have the parts that would normally be associated with a male, but on the inside, he felt he was a female. He, sorry, she went on to tell me that she started to live life as a woman. Going to classes, and work, or anything else that she did, as Kia. She started to bite her lip as she asked me ‘THE QUESTION.’

“Josh, do you think we can still be friends?” she asked, almost crying.

I pulled her tight into me, and gently held her in my arms to comfort her. “You’re my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Over the next couple of hours, once she calmed back down that is, we talked about how things were going to be different. I finally made her laugh when I asked her if she was into guys or girls.

“What are you trying to say? You want to bang your buddy?” she asked me teasing.

“No. Not at all. Well...” I started to blush, “I mean you do make a pretty cute girl.”

“Thank you.” she said squeezing my hand. “But you’re not my type Josh. I prefer girls too.” she told me with that smile that she’s always had that made me smile whenever I saw it.

“Well that makes things less awkward.”

We finished out the semester, and I ended up moving into her place, when her room mate, transferred out of school. It was kind of like old times again. We’d do almost everything together. That is when we weren’t in classes. Her girlfriend even introduced me to her roommate, since she figured that if I was friends with Kia, I’d have to be a pretty sweet guy.

The party ended abruptly the week before spring break our freshman year. I was walking back to the apartment, when I saw Kia crossing the street at the light. She had the walk signs, so she wasn’t really looking for traffic. Before I could yell to her, to look out, an SUV plowed into her, and as she tumbled into the road, it ran her over.

The thing that pissed me off was that no one was doing anything. Everyone just stood there, and I think I heard a woman screaming. I finally found her cell phone and dialed 911, but someone took the phone from my hands. There was a woman still screaming and she wouldn’t stop. The ambulance arrived and they loaded her body inside, but that woman was still screaming. That was the next thing I remember was that I was in the hospital. I woke up and saw a nurse taking my blood pressure.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in St. James Hospital hun.” she told me trying to calm me down. “It’s alright, the paramedics brought you here when you became unresponsive.”

“Unresponsive? What the hell happened?” I asked her trying to clear my head. “The last thing I remember was holding the lifeless body of my friend who had just been run over. Some woman was screaming, and no body would do anything.”

“The paramedics said they sedated you, because YOU were the one screaming.”

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Where is who?”

“My friend who got ran over.”

“You’ll have to wait for the doctor. Let me see if he’s free.”

She brought the doctor back, and I was told that my friend was dead. After I was released from the hospital, I started asking the police if they had any leads as to who did this to Kia. I gave them a compete description of the truck that hit her, but after a month, they stopped returning my calls. I know it was a different time back then, but the police were supposed to help people, not just sweep them under the rug, because they were different.

As these memories came back to me, I started to cry again. Knowing I couldn’t sleep, I went for my morning run a bit early. As I ran, I could remember all the morning runs that Kent and then Kia and I would go on. It was our alone time. Were nothing else mattered, except for the road beneath our feet, and the sky above us. When I started my run, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it was starting to show light. When the sun finally broke, I saw I was running right at a cloud in the sky, that looked a lot like Kia. It was almost as if she was telling me that everything was going to be alright, and she would be looking out for me.
I couldn’t help but smile. Even though my lungs were burning, and my legs were aching, I had to smile at the thought of Kia’s smile. At that moment, I knew I could do this. Whatever else happened, Kia’s strength would help guide me through.

To Be Continued...

“I’d like to welcome you all to the new term of the United Nations Lunar Learning Center. I am Ms. Hagar, the head mistress of the school." Mean Girls 3026 Part 3 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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I won’t bore you with the details of the month following my unfreezing. Just know that marine drill instructors have nothing on Amanda. She worked me hard to make sure I was ready for my trip to the moon. I unlearned everything I’d done before, from walking to speaking. And my previous prediction was right, the mannerisms were the most difficult part, but I got through it. I wasn’t perfect, and I still slipped up every once and a while, but I could pass to the point that no one, except for a finishing school teacher, would notice the little imperfections.

The only thing that really disturbed me, at first anyways, about the whole training experience that Amanda had me go through, was when she started quizzing me on history. Or more importantly, everything that took place between the time of my freezing and waking up. I didn’t miss a single question. I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around how I was able to do this, and Amanda, or mom as I’ve taken to calling her to make it easier on everyone, explained it to me. Apparently while I was frozen, they downloaded everything that was taking place around the world into my brain. I started to feel like Sly Stallone must have felt in the movie ‘Demolition Man’. I knew how to use every new device that had come out since the time of my freezing, but more important to me, I knew every detail of racing history. Now THAT’S cool. From presidents, to world affairs, there wasn’t anything I didn’t know. Isn’t science wonderful?

I did get my new body into the best shape it’s ever been in. By the time my day to take off to the moon came, I was sporting a budding pack of abs. Granted only the top two were clearly visible, but the other’s were starting to make their presents known. Plus to make things better, I did finish a five mile run with mom, the day before I left. So I took some pride that in a month I was able to make some headway with getting into shape.

The morning of my flight to school I was a bundle of nerves. Back in my day, flying into space was something only select few did. And it was a dangerous undertaking even when they did. But imagine my shock when we got to where my flight was going to take off, only to find it was very much like an airport from my time. The runways were a bit longer, and the planes were a touch different looking, but it still looked like a normal airport.

I had some time to kill, so I just sat back and relaxed with the magazines I’d picked up for the flight. To my pleasure, many of the same ones I’d read before were still in print. Even more surprising was that not ALL that much had changed in regards to how to make a race car go fast. The engines are a bit higher tech, and the chassis are somewhat differently designed, but most of that is for driver safety. I breezed through the mags and ended up opening my wrist-top computer to see what was out there for games to play on the flight. Again I was met with the happy shock that some of the same ones I’d played back in the day were still out there for download. So I got to it, and by the time they were calling my flight, I had obtained a couple of my old favorites for the flight.

I tucked my wrist-top computer under my sleeve and buckled in much like a normal plane flight from my time. The girl next to me was nervous in a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs so I tried to chat with her to try to ease her nerves.

“First time flying?” I asked with a smile.

“No, first time flying out of the earth’s atmosphere.” she said as she wiped the sweat off her brow. “My parents are sending me to some fucking school on the moon for gifted students. All because I scored a 185 on that damn I.Q. test they gave us at school.”

“I’m going there myself.” I said with a smile. “I’m Amy.” I told her as I offered her my hand.

“Grace” she said as she shook with me.

“Look, we’ll be fine. They say you’re safer flying then in a car.”

“I know, it’s just I hate heights.” she told me as the craft started to taxi for takeoff.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll be on the moon tomorrow. And that’s as solid ground wise as the earth is.” I said and she just nodded.

I thought I was ready for the takeoff, but to my shock we didn’t take off like a plane would. Once we were at the end of the runway, we tilted back as the ground opened up and I felt the ship rumble as the engines sent us skyward. Grace grabbed my hand once we left the ground and I swore for a moment she might break my fingers with her death grip, but she relaxed as soon as the pilot announced that we could use electronic devices. I reached down and fired up my wrist-top, quickly bringing up one of the games I downloaded, on the holographic screen. I could see out of the corner of my eye that Grace was watching what I was doing, and she started asking questions.

“I hate unrealistic games. I mean if I’m going to play something at least give me something real.” she said with a sigh.

“Well this is pretty much the way it was a thousand years ago.” I said as I started to paint the pro-modified drag car I picked from the game.

“Car’s don’t look like that.” she told me emphatically.

“Oh? And what do you call this?” I asked her as I showed her the ‘back in the day’ section of the drag racing magazine I had with me.

She looked at the pictures of what drag racing was like from back in my time, and I could see her puzzled at the types of cars and how they looked back then. I had read in the magazine that the new cars were much quicker, and much safer then the old ones were, but something about a powerful v-8 with a supercharger on the top gets me excited.

“Wow, those are ancient.” she told me with a grin.

“Yeah, but it’s still fun to see how it was back in the day.” I told her, not wanting to tell her too much. “I want to work on race cars some day.”

“What a coincidence, I’m going for motorsports engineering as well.” she told me.

“Rock on, maybe we’ll be in the same dorm.” I said with a grin. And went to make a pass with the car in the game.

I did the burn out and staged like normal, but on the hit of the throttle the rear tires smoked more then the crowd at a Grateful Dead concert. So I shut the car off, and chose to go to the pits. Once there I made some changes to the fuel curve, and softened the clutch up. Then once back to the track, I made a safe pass of 6.10 seconds. That’s when she asked me more questions.

“How did you know what to change?” she wanted to know.

“My dad showed me on his real car.” I told her then I dawned on me that Mark didn’t have a race car.

“Cool. So is that as fast as those cars went?” she asked looking at the time sheet the computer was showing.

“Not really. With the technology in the cars in this game, they can go as quick as a mid five second pass with the right settings. But you have to watch the track conditions.” I told her as she started to relax a bit. And I took the car back to the pits to try to go faster.

“So what does this do?” she asked pointing to one of the adjustments.

“This is how hard the clutch engages at the hit of the throttle.” I said as I wanted a bit more out of the hole so I increased it a touch. “And this is how soon the clutch locks up off the line, then over here is the rear end gear, and this is first gear, the wheelie bar height, how much the rear suspension squats, the blower speed, launch engine speed, and shift light engine speed.” I told her as I adjusted each one to help coax more speed from the ‘53 corvette I was racing.

“Wow you sure know a lot about these cars.” she said as I started another pass.

“I’ve picked it up over the years. It’s not that hard to figure out what to do, once you know what each adjustment does and compare it to what the car is doing as opposed to what you want it to do.” I told her as I clicked off a 5.83 second pass, and the time slip came up on the screen. “You see these incremental times?” I asked her pointing to the time slip.

“What does it all mean?” she asked me.

“Well, this first one is how long after the green light came on that the car left the line. And this next one is how long it took the car to travel sixty feet, three hundred and thirty feet, half track and the entire quarter mile.” I told her pointing to each one as I went. “The big one is sixty foot time. That is how hard the car left the line. That means a lot to how quick the car will run.” I told her as I went back to the pit screen.

“So how hard is it to make these changes to a real car?” she asked me, basically telling me that she’s never worked on a real car before.

“Well at a race, they give you seventy minutes between each pass. In that time some teams can change an entire engine or rebuild a hurt one. It’s really a beautiful thing to watch, almost like watching a ballet.” I told her as I made a couple of more changes and then got ready for another pass.

“Can I give that a try when you’re done?” she asked sheepishly.

“Sure, just give me a couple of seconds.” I told her with a giggle to my inside joke. Once I was done, I backed out of the race, and brought up the car type select screen. “Ok, choose here what class you want to run.” I told her showing her the four different types of cars and the class for pro-stock motorcycle they had to choose from.

“These are kind of cool looking.” she told me as she chose pro-mod, bringing up the car select screen.

“Alright, now choose the body style you want. They have many different to choose from, each with its own advantages and disadvantages.” I told her.

“Ok, what’s the best car?” she asked.

“Well all the cars in the game are basically the same. That is to say you can get them all to go pretty much as quick as all the others. What they do, is give a weight break for anything with a body style before 1980. But the car’s after that have better aerodynamics, for the most part.” I told her, trying to explain the difference between the cars.

“Oh, I like this one.” she said as she clicked on a ‘63 corvette, bringing up the engine screen.

“Alright, now you choose your power adder.” I told her

“My what?”

“Power adder. That’s what they call them. They have a supercharger, nitrous oxide, and turbo chargers. Again each one had an advantage and disadvantage.” I told her.

“Alright, which one is better?”

“It’s not a matter of better or worse in the game. In real life, you can do more with a supercharger, or turbo. They are more tuneable. But in the game, you can use any of them to get the results.”

“What do they do?” she asked not really sure what any of them was.

“Well a supercharger and turbo charger does pretty much the same thing. They both pump more air into the engine. The biggest difference is a turbo is driven off the exhaust, and a supercharger is belt driven off the engine. Nitrous, is a gas that when added to the engine allows the fuel to burn better.”

“Which one is easier to understand?”

“Well, I prefer superchargers. Because you can control how fast it turns by changing the gear on the pulley that drives it.”

“Alright.” she said clicking the blower, and bringing up the paint shop

“Now have fun. Paint the car however you want it. Have fun. Let me know when you’re ready to run. I’m going to catch a quick nap.” I told her, knowing that most people can spend hours getting the car to look just right.

She gently shook me a while later letting me know she was ready to race. So I helped her with her first pass. It went pretty much like my first one did, with the tires smoking. So I helped her understand what each adjustment did to the car, and before long she had the hang of it. We had to take a break when they served the first meal we’d be getting on the flight, so we just sat there and talked a bit.

“So what kind of music are you into?” she asked me between bites of the sandwich she had.

“You’ve probably never heard of any of the bands on my play list.”

“Try me. I like some of the new stuff.”

“It’s all old bands. I mean REALLY old.”

“Come on, let me listen to one.”

I pulled out my MP3 player and she looked at it funny. I just smiled and pulled up my running play list, then brought up the Flogging Molly’s ‘Drunken Lullaby’ handing her the ear buds. She did pretty much the same thing mom did when she first heard my favorite songs. She started bobbing her head to the beat and started to smile before she handed back the ear buds to me.

“That’s kind of cool.” she said with a smile. “Who was that?”

“It was a band from the early twenty first century, ‘Flogging Molly’.”

“That’s a silly name for a band.” she told me with a giggle.

“Well then what do you think of the name Dropkick Murphy’s or Tossers?”

“They had pretty funny names back then didn’t they?”

“Yeah, but it was all in hope to get noticed and get a record deal.”

She nodded and we finished our meals. After lunch, we went back to the computer, and I showed her another game I had downloaded. This one was a stock car game from back in the day, and once again she thought the cars looked funny. It was a bit harder for her to figure out how to tune the cars it this game, since it’s all chassis adjustments, and she had never worked on a car. I gave her some pointers but the only good thing about stock car racing is that a good driver can take a bad car and make it perform half way decent. But by the time dinner was being served, she had gotten the hang of it for the most part. The only thing we had left to do was work on her driving, which isn’t easy with these games with a keyboard.

All through dinner she talked about home, her friends and how she was mad at her parents for making her go to school on the moon. That’s when I really started to look at her. Not just as a scared girl who I was trying to help take her mind off flying, but as a person; and a cute one at that. She was a brunette, with a round face, and cute button nose. She kind of reminded me of the actress from my time, Melissa Milano. But Grace was younger. Maybe Melissa when she was on ‘Who’s the boss’. Her body was that of a normal girl in her early teens. She wasn’t overweight, but she wasn’t too skinny either. She was just average, but a cute face made up for it. I kept thinking about how cute she was and how much it was nice to meet someone who shared some of my interests. I finally realized she had dozed off after the turkey dinner we had, and I feeling a bit sleepy myself so I pushed my seat back and drifted off to sleep. The flight attendant woke us up when she started serving breakfast and we both ate as we let our thoughts drift, we both wondered what the school would be like.

I’ve been to many schools back in my time, and had no idea what, if any had changed in the past millennia. Back in my day I’d been through high school, and college. Those were both what would be considered traditional schools. That is to say that the high school was like any you’d find anywhere in the north east of the United States. A single building that was sectioned off into the different courses the students took. There was a math wing, a social studies wing, English, foreign languages, science, technology, and music. Then there was the large gym. We actually had three different gyms to use. The wrestling teams were multi-time state champions so the booster club bought them their own room to use for practice, and then there was the main gym where the basketball and volleyball teams had their courts. But how could I forget the weight room. That thing was big enough to put many health clubs to shame. There was at least three of every machine available to help push the athlete’s bodies to the limit of performance. All in all, it wasn’t that different from many of the schools my friends in college went to.

College itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It was just a bunch of buildings, one for each major, and we had seven dormitories available to house the full time students. The only thing to write home about, about the campus was that you had to be part mountain goat to get anywhere on campus. The majority of the dorms were at the bottom of the 30% gradient hill, with the classes being near the top. The only deviation from this was the Mackenzie Complex. This was a two hundred room dorm that was split into four segments to make it easier for security to patrol. This was located at the highest point on campus. And if you were lucky enough to have one of the rooms on the top floor of one of the blocks in the North building, you’d have an unobstructed view of the valley below.

The school I went to for being a crew member on a race team was pretty much like going to college. That is to say, it was AT a college, in North Carolina; right in the heart of stock car racing. It wasn’t that big of an adjustment to go there right out of college. The only hard part about being there was picking up on the heavy southern accents that many of the teachers and some of the other students had. I figured if I could survive my years in the Deep South, I could take anything the moon could throw at me.

It was about the time the flight attendant told us we’d be getting ready to land when I came back to reality from my thinking back to day’s gone by. The only thing that was different about landing in the ship we were in, and a plane from my day was they handed out crash helmets for us to put on. This freaked out Grace a bit, but I held her hand as we made a rather smooth landing. Once stopped, and we were able to get off the ship, they ushered us into a large room near the terminal. That was when I saw that everyone on the ship was going to be starting school, just like Grace and I would be. Our attention was brought to the front of the auditorium when a rather short woman called our attention.

“I’d like to welcome you all to the new term of the United Nations Lunar Learning Center. I am Ms. Hagar, the head mistress of the school. Once you get your room assignments, you will each find a packet that has a rule book and map of the school. There isn’t much that we do not allow here. However, the rules we have in place are for the safety and well being of all the students. That being said, we have some of the brightest students the earth has to offer here with us today, so I can only assume that you will all act like ladies and gentlemen during your stay with us at the Center. Can I have all Freshmen girls, please leave out door number one, freshmen boys out door two, sophomore girls out door three, boys four, junior girls five, boys six, and senior girls seven, and boys eight. Thank you all for your time, and I’ll be getting to know each of you later.”

After her short speech, Grace and I both made our way out door five, and found ourselves in a line for rooms. It didn’t take long, just hand them your passport, and they hand you it back with a room key. I thought back to my time at college and wished it had been this simple back then.

Grace and I started to hug as we found out we’d be in the same room, but that was short lived when I heard a comment that kind of shook me.

“Awe, look at the little dykes. Aren’t they cute hugging like lovers?”

“Who do you think is the bottom, the blond?”

“Nah, she’s a top. Look at her build; she’s too strong to be a bottom.”

I turned to see a group of older girls standing there laughing at the tender moment Grace and I had just shared. Without thinking I walked right up to one of the girls and got right in her face, letting my anger override my common sense.

“You got a problem?” I asked in a defiant tone.

“Look nooby. You don’t know who we are yet. But we run this school. So just go back to your girlfriend and you won’t get hurt.” the tall blond told me.

“Let me clue you in on a little fact little girl.” I said in a calm tone. “You may think you run things. But you stay out of my way, and I won’t make your stay here a living hell.”

At that point two of her friends grabbed me and I watched in shock as she took a swing at my stomach. Good thing I’d been doing sit-ups with mom for the past month. I simply tightened my abs and heard the dull thud of her fist hitting me. There was a slight discomfort, but it wasn’t all that painful. For me that is, the girl who hit me on the other hand, was using her other hand to hold the one that she’d hit me with. Clearly not expecting me to be as fit as I am, add that to the fact that I had on a baggy sweatshirt, and she thought I was just another overweight girl. It was about that time that Ms. Hagar came around the corner and saw me being held and the other girl holding her hand in obvious pain. She demanded to know what was going on and the girls who were holding me scattered, leaving only Grace, the girl who hit me and me to answer her.

“Amy and I were happy we were assigned the same room, and hugged, when this girl and her friends made some snide remarks and called us homosexuals’ ma’am.” Amy told her.

“I kindly told her,” pointing to the girl writhing in pain, “that she wasn’t being nice, and I wasn’t here to fight, I was here to learn.”

“She swung at me first. I was defending myself!” the girl shot back.

“That’s enough out of you Angela.” Ms. Hagar told the other girl. “I saw the whole incident. You go to the infirmary.” she told her. “And you two, go to your room, and wait for me there.”

We both nodded and did as we were told. We found the room was much like a small apartment. We each had a bedroom, and there was a kitchen/dining room/ living room set up with a couch, and a television. We both dropped our bags off in our bedrooms and I found that some of the things that mom and dad had sent ahead were already waiting for me. I decided to unpack later, and grabbed my packet that was sitting on my desk, and headed for the dining room table. Grace joined me after a couple of seconds and we sat down together to go through the packets.

It was pretty much the same as I’d seen in college; a booklet of do’s and don’ts, and a map of the complex. The only good thing was the map was on a touch tablet, and you could zoom in at any time to make sure you knew where you were, and where you were heading. We had just finished the rule book when Ms. Hagar arrived.

“I’d like to apologize for the welcoming committee earlier. We are very pleased to have you both with us.” she said with a smile. “You are both the brightest students we’ve ever had here at the Lunar School. And please don’t let Angela and her brood discourage either of you from doing your best and being who you want to be.”

“Thank you.” we both said to her in unison.

“It wasn’t anything major at all.” I continued. “I think little Miss Mike Tyson, is hurt more then I am.”

“I gathered that. But I want you both to know that we do not condone that sort of action here. You did the right thing by not fighting back.” she told me

“I’ll be honest with you,” I said sheepishly, “if I could have gotten my hands free, I probably would have.”

“I see.” she said as she pulled off her glasses and started to clean them. “That’s not at all what I’d expected to hear from a girl with a 195 I.Q.”

“I know, you thought I’d be smarter then that.”

“No, actually I thought you’d be too afraid to fight back.” she told me.

“I’m not your normal bookworm, ma’am.”

“I know you aren’t.” she told me pulling out a file with my name on it. “Your parents made sure we know what was going on.” she told me with a wink.

“What’s going on?” Grace asked in confusion.

“Nothing that you need be concerned with dear,” Ms. Hagar told her.

“I’ll tell you later.” I piped in.

“Now as for the two of you,” Ms. Hagar continued, “you have been put together because you are the two brightest students we’ve ever had, and as it turns out, you both are the first women to sign up for our motorsports engineering major. So don’t disappoint me, and use this as an opportunity to get ahead of others your age. By the time you both leave here, you’ll have earned your degree’s and be as ready as we can get you to enter the work force.”

“Thank you ma’am.” we both said in unison, and started to giggle.

“They say great minds think alike.” Ms. Hagar told us, joining the laugh.

She bid us good bye and said she was having a little get together for the faculty and staff in her quarters later. She mentioned that she’d want us both to attend, and would be back later to pick us up. I nodded and shook her hand and Grace took my cue and did the same thing. Once she left we both got to the business of unpacking. It all went pretty quick and I had just finished putting my clothes put away when Grace peeked into my room and mentioned that it was getting near time to get ready. I nodded and pulled the black dress I’d packed out of my closet and started to get ready, while listening to my play list of music I'd been able to transfer from off my MP3 player. I was just finishing putting my makeup on when I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I called for Grace to come in, over the music, and the door opened to show that it was Ms. Hagar.

How can I describe Ms. Hagar? I think every boy’s wet dream pretty well sums it up. Let me explain. Most guys I’ve met over the years have had a fantasy about a teacher who is slightly older and sexy as hell. Trust me, if Ms. Hagar’s model beautiful face isn’t enough to get you thinking nasty thoughts about her, then the two watermelons she has stuffed in the woman’s business suit she has on will. Now don’t get it twisted. She is far from what you’d call a BBW. Her waist is pretty damn small. I’d say she probably works out from the sheer lack of a waist she has. Of course as the old saying goes, ‘nothing grows in the shade.’ And believe me; her breasts do quite enough to shade everything under them. I never knew a woman like her could exist. That is to say that when I watched her walk away earlier, there was, and still is no doubt in my mind that her breasts are 100% natural.

“I didn’t know anyone still had my great-grand father’s music.” she told me as I turned down Sammy Hagar’s ‘I can’t drive 55'.

“Yeah, well call me old fashioned. But I like the music from back then.”

“Do you miss it Josh?” she asked me straight faced; causing me to turn white as a sheet.

“Uh.” was all I could come up with.

“I know what’s going on Amy. I read the file, and the letters from the medical staff. It’s not a problem. You see, I know who you really are.” she told me.

“And you’re cool with it?” I asked not really sure what else to do.

“It’s fine. Just please remember that you are dealing with teenage girls and boys. Both of which have hormones raging in their bodies causing them to do and say things that as adults we wouldn’t.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been feeling the effects of that myself lately.”

“Alright, just be careful. And here’s my private number. Call me if you have any questions. Amanda and I are old friends and I told her I’d look after you here for her.” she told me with a tender smile.

“Thank you.” I said as I felt myself start to cry and quickly grabbed a tissue to stop the tears from ruining my makeup.

“It’s going to be fine.” she told me as she pulled me into a hug. “Once I saw that you’d changed your major, I called Mandy and asked her what was going on. She explained everything and while I did feel sad at losing my goddaughter, I was happy when she told me that you were going to go on living for her.”

“Oh wow, you didn’t have to tell me that. I feel bad enough that Mark and Amanda lost their daughter. I didn’t need to know that you were her godmother.” I said as I started to cry again.

“It’s alright.” she said rubbing my back. “I’ll be here for you, just like I would have been for her. In fact, I’d like very much if you’d consider me the same for you. I know you don’t have anyone. So consider me a second mom, alright?”

“I’ll try. Just keep in mind that I know very little about being a girl. So if I do or say things that don’t sound very ladylike, please cut me some slack.”

“I can do that.” she said as we hugged. “Do you have any pictures of what you used to look like?” she asked me with a tender smile.

“I do.” I told her as I pulled out a box of my old things, and grabbed a team picture of one of the stock car teams I worked with. “I’m the third from the right in the back row; right next to the guy in the black polo shirt.” I told her pointing to the big guy with the braided goat-tee.

“Oh my, you were a big boy. What did you do on race day?” she asked as she kept looking back and forth between the picture and me.

“I was the tire specialist, and jack man.” I said proudly. “I was also the shock specialist. I built all our shocks in house. And was one of our chassis fabricators.”

“Wow, so you did a lot in motorsports already.” she said with a smile.

“Oh, that was just on that team.” I said with a smile. “Once I left them, I went to crew chief a sprint car out west, and did everything myself. I even built the motor we won the Western States Open with. Then when they stopped racing, I went to work for a pro-mod drag team and was the tire, and top end specialist. I was in charge of building the heads we’d use for each weekend.”

“Wow, I didn’t know we’d have an expert in vintage racing coming to our school.” she said with a nod. “So you can weld, and machine. What about electro-magnetic propulsion?”

“Uh, that was reserved for trains, back in my time.” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Alright, so there is one course you might have to study for.” she said with a wink. “Come on, let’s get to that party.”

We grabbed Grace, and were off to the gathering at Ms. Hagar’s place. On the way there, I noticed that the entire school was set up like a small city, complete with shops and restaurants. Ms. Hagar explained that the restaurants were free to the students, but the shops would only offer a discount on the items purchased. We passed one of the several banks and I saw that it was my own bank from back in the day. Hopefully my ATM card would still work, and I’d be able to get some money to use.

To Be Continued.

“I’d like to welcome you all to the new term of the United Nations Lunar Learning Center. I am Ms. Hagar, the head mistress of the school." Mean Girls 3026 Part 4 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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The party was much like I’d been to back in the day from racing, and going to things the sponsor’s put on for either a new product launch or to celebrate the success of the team. I made sure to stick with Grace since once we arrived she told me that she had never been to something like this. We both met with some of the people who would be our teachers and I could only smile when I found that my advisor would be Dale Earnhardt the tenth. It was all I could do not to start talking about his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. We just mingled with the rest of the faculty and talked a lot about racing. I made it known that I loved drag racing, but also had a deep respect for oval racers. I mean hell, I cut my teeth with short track oval cars, and up until the day I had my accident, there was nothing more relaxing to me then sitting in turn one at a dirt track, with a clump of clay at the bottom of my beer. I did almost let the cat out of the bag when one of my teachers asked me what I liked about drag racing.

To me anyway, it’s an adrenalin rush to stand at the starting line of a top fuel race, when the car’s launch. With each car’s motor producing over seven thousand horsepower, it’s a bone shaking experience. Fourteen thousand horsepower shaking the ground as the engine tries to literally rip the track from the ground while the tires fight with the engine for control of the car. The only thing I can liken it to is getting punched in the chest. Not in a bad way. But your whole body shakes, even when the cars are at idle. Then when they leave the line, your vision goes blurry for a moment as the ground shakes, and the noise is so deafening, that if you don’t have ear plugs in, you risk blown out ear drums. But that’s not all. The power the cars are putting out, actually causes your bones to reverberate inside your body. Think of it like standing in front of the speakers at a rock concert. Just the thumping of the speakers shakes your body and you can feel it in your chest. To a real gear head, it’s one of the most amazing experiences you’ll ever have. However I couldn’t tell the teachers this, since AMY had never had the chance to witness a drag race like that. They stopped running the expensive top fuel when the mag-lev car’s took over as the top class.

After the party started to wind down. Grace and I headed back to our place. Ms. Hagar, or Samantha as she told me to call her. Let us take one of her electric cars since our dorm was on the other side of the complex from her place. On the ride back, Grace started needling me for information about what Samantha was talking about back in our room. I wasn’t sure if I should just come right out and tell her, or keep this a secret from her and hope she didn’t find out. But I started to think. The one thing my parents always told me from the time I was born was honesty is the best policy. So I bit the bullet and took a deep breath before I told her the story.

“You’ve heard about how they are able to transplant a brain from someone who has suffered tremendous trauma to their body into the body of someone who has sustained a severe head injury, and has been pronounced brain dead right?” I asked her not really knowing how else to start.

“Sure, they did that with my aunt and uncle. They put his brain in her body when they got in a bad car wreck.” she told me.

“Alright.” I took a deep breath and steadied myself to tell her the truth. “I wasn’t born in this body. In fact, I wasn’t born in this millennia. That is to say, my brain was born back in 1976. And I was born a male. After a motorcycle accident in 2008, my parents had me cryogenically frozen and when Amy suffered a car accident her parents made the choice to give her body to my brain.” I told her and out of the corner of my eye all I saw was her looking back at me with her mouth hanging open.

“Yeah right.” she said finally, starting to laugh. “You almost had me there chick.”

“I’m not pulling your leg. I’m serious. Think about this. Back on the plane, when you and I were talking about racing. Didn’t it strike you as odd that I said my dad had a car like the one I was playing in the game?”

“Well, now that you mention it. I’ve never seen one like that before.”

“Alright, or what about when I pulled out my MP3 player. Have you ever seen a device like that before? Or how would a girl like me, know about bands that haven’t been heard from for over a thousand years?”

“This is all too weird.” she said as she looked me over to try to figure out if I was messing with her.

“Alright, here, feel.” I said as I put her hand on the little scar on my head from where they cut this head open to put my brain in.

“Ah! What the hell is that bump?” she asked, yanking her hand back.

“That is the reminder I carry with me to keep me in check, that I may have been born Josh, but the world see’s me as Amy.” I told her with a sigh. I could see she was shaken by all this, so I tried to change the subject. “I’m getting hungry. You want to get something to eat?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can right now.”

“I’ll buy.” I told her as I pulled into the drive through of my old bank and tried my ATM card.

It took a second for the machine to read it, but I got to enter my pin number, and pulled up my account information to see if I’d have enough to buy us some food. I figured the $20 I’d kept in there for emergencies, should be able to at least get us some hamburgers or something. But when I pulled up the balance screen, I about drove the car into the wall of the bank. I had $22 trillion available to me. How could this be? Then it dawned on me. The bank added the interest to my account over the past one thousand and eighteen years. I didn’t say a word, I just took out one hundred dollars and drove to the restaurants.

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked Grace.

“How about a burger?” she said as I heard her stomach rumble it’s agreement.

“Alright? Where from? Golden Arches? Or the Burger Monarch?” I asked not really sure which I wanted myself.

“I love the Monarch. They cook with an open flame and it tastes more like back home.” she said, starting to smile.

I pulled up to the drive-thru window and to my shock and enjoyment, they menu hadn’t changed in all this time. But I sat there looking at it for a moment before making my selection, and asking Grace what she wanted.

“I’ll have a double whacker combo, with cheese, Monarch size with a cola.” she said loud enough for the person running the register to hear.

“And I’ll have a double whacker combo, plain, ketchup only, Monarch sized with a cola.”

“Would you like cheese on that?” came the reply.

“What part of plain, ketchup only did you miss?” I asked defiantly.

“Please drive up to the second window.”

I went to pay, but the girl who was handing us our food reminded us that the meals were free, and just handed me the bag. I opened it and saw that there were two burgers in there with cheese on both of them. I just hate that the fast food joints brain wash their workers into thinking that everyone wants cheese on their food. I calmly grabbed one of the burgers and went back in, demanding to speak to the manager. I kindly explained that they had given me someone else’s burger and repeated my order. She opened my burger up to find that it did only have ketchup on it, so I asked her what that yellow shit was, growing out from between the meat. That is when it usually sinks in what I’m driving at, and she went back to make another one for me. While back there, I heard her yelling at someone named Angela, and I looked past the fry warmer to see that it was the same girl from before. Justice served, I took solace in the fact that here this girl was trying to make my life hell, when she, herself was unhappy with her life. So I just took my burger, went back to the car and drove home, trying to put the vision of Angela out of my mind.

We both sat down at the table and dug into our food. I hadn’t eaten a burger in all the time I was with Amanda and Mark, since she prefers to cook herself, and doesn’t like fast food. I’ll admit, it’s one of my guilty pleasures and the taste of the juicy meat for the first time in over a thousand years, was almost orgasmic. Grace was enjoying her burger as well, but I could tell that she wasn’t on the same level as I was at that moment. We finished our meal and both figured it was time to get ready for bed. Grace took the bathroom to get ready, and I just went into my room, to change into my shorts and t-shirt.

When she came out she saw me sitting on the couch flipping channels, and as I looked up I saw she had a funny look in her eyes. I felt like I was a piece of meat being judged for market from the look she was giving me. I saw her bite her lower lip and that’s when it hit me, why she was looking at me like that. I just played it cool, and let her make the first move.

“Something wrong Grace?” I asked, going back to flipping channels.

“Um, Amy, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, fire away.” I told her not really looking at her, but still watching out of the corner of my eye.

“Do you like girls?” she asked me as I took a sip of my cola and promptly did a spit take.

“Do I what?” I asked, wiping the drool from my mouth.

“I mean have you. Uh...” she started not really sure how to ask. “Do you think I’m cute?”

“Wow.” was all I could come up with at first. “Uh, no. to be honest I don’t think you’re cute.” I said and watched her face sink. “I think you’re beautiful.” I quickly said with a smile that caused her to do the same.

“You do?” she asked, beaming at that point. “You really think I’m pretty?”

“Yes. I do.” I told her. “I think you’re a remarkable girl. You have that girl next door look to you, that while you do have great beauty, you neither flaunt it, nor come off like too beautiful to approach.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you.” she said with a giggle as she sat next to me on the couch.

“Why do you ask?” I looked at her puzzled. I knew that I would like to date her, but I wasn’t sure how that would go with her.

“Well, since you shared something with me, I want to share something about me with you.” she started and bit her lip as she took a deep breath. “I’m a lesbian.”

“Wow.” was all I could think to say at first. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I asked not really sure where she was going.

“Amy, I think you’re a great girl, and I’ve wanted to kiss you since we met on the plane.”

“Please don’t tease me.” I said back. “You’re only saying that because of what I said earlier.”

She didn’t say a word. She just climbed on top of me and planted a soft tender kiss on my lips while caressing the sides of my head with her soft hands. Out of reflex I caressed the small of her back and savored the moment. Truth be told I did think she was a great girl, but I wasn’t sure what to do, since she was seventeen and at that point so was I. That is to say my body was that of a seventeen year old girl. She broke off the kiss and straddled my hips while I still held her by the small of her back.

“So would you say that was teasing?” she asked looking at me with a smile.

“Wow.” was all I could muster.

“Can I cuddle with you tonight?” she asked as the grabbed the remote and shut off the TV.

All I could manage was a nod as she took me by the hand and led me to my room. Lucky for me I had already put sheets on the bed, as she lowered us down together and kissed me again. She reached over and turned off the light, with out breaking the kiss, as I ran my fingers through her hair. I’m not sure how long we kissed for, but it felt good. It felt right. And before I knew it, we were both fast asleep. I got up at my normal time of 5am, and carefully untangled myself from her body, so as not to wake her. I simply got dressed and wrote her a note that I went for a run, before looking back into my room and smiled as I saw her sleeping in my bed like an angel.

TO BE CONTINUED.

“Grace, you’re the only friend I have.” Mean Girls 3026 Part 5 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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The run I had, really cleared my head, and I had a lot to consider too. Here I was sleeping with a girl who for all intense and purposes, was almost young enough to be my daughter, that is to say my daughter if I were still a 31 year old man, telling me that she finds me attractive. But it’s not me parse that she is attracted to, but the body of the girl her own age that my brain has been put into. It was a bit disturbing to me. I mean not that someone found this body attractive. Don’t get it twisted. It was the fact that while on the outside I looked and for the most part WAS a teenage girl, I still had the brain of a much older man. And that is what really bothered me.

If I had done what I allowed to happen last night, back when I was still Josh, there is no doubt in my mind that I’d be breaking out in a matching pair of silver bracelets, attached together with a lovely chrome chain, if you catch my drift. But then another part of me really likes Grace. She’s a sweet girl, who’s intelligent, witty, and we share many of the same interests. But then again, I wasn’t really sure how to be a lesbian. Well, that is to say, I know how to do some of the things some friends I had back in the day told me they did with their girlfriends, but I wasn’t sure if I really knew what I was doing. I finally figured I would, that is if anything was going to happen, make the two of us would take it VERY slow. There is no way I’m going to mess up this girls brain just because I like the way she feels, touching me.

I stopped at the Monarch on my way back to the apartment, and picked up a couple of their breakfast sandwiches. I placed the order and made sure I asked for a couple of them without cheese, since I HATE cheese on my meat. Pizza is alright, but I’m not a big cheese fan. I waited for the order to be filled, and since it was around 6am on a Sunday, the place was pretty empty. It was then that I noticed that my favorite food worker was behind the grill. Angela was trying to get ahead of the inevitable breakfast rush, and busied herself making the sandwiches I was getting for Grace and me. I stood right there and watched her put cheese on everything and didn’t say a word. I merely stood there and waited for the other worker to hand me my bag before raising a stink.

“How hard is it to understand that I wanted two with and two without cheese?” I asked angrily.

“What’s wrong miss?” the cashier asked.

“What was my order?”

“Uh?” she started to look at the receipt, “two breakfast sandwiches with cheese and two without.” she said as she looked into the bag. “Oops, ok, let me fix this.” she told me as she went back to the prep area and I could hear her chew out Angela for not paying attention to the order. As the woman who I thought was the cashier, who turned out to be the manager, came back and apologized for the mistake, I could see Angela looking at me with so much anger in her eyes I thought it would be best if I steered clear of her for a couple of days. I thanked the manager and was on my way. As I got back to the apartment just as Grace was waking up and as I was just putting the coffee on, I saw her emerge from my room and she looked like a walking zombie.

“Not a morning person?” I said with a giggle.

“Where did you go? I rolled over and you were gone.” she said as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh, I always go for a morning run. It really helps me get my head clear for the rest of the day.” I said as I poured her a glass of the juice I picked up at the store on my way back.

“Where did all this come from?” she asked, knowing that she hadn’t been to the store yet.

“Well I figured I’d grab some things for breakfast, and we could go shopping later for the rest of the essentials.”

“Good call, what’s in the bag?” she asked as she started to peek in the bag from the Burger Monarch.

“I got some sandwiches. Do you want cheese or no cheese?”

“It’s got to have cheese on it.”

“That’s what you think.” I said raising my eyebrow to her. “I only want cheese on my pizza. Other then that, the only part of the cow I want to know about is the meat.”

She giggled and we got down to eating, before she told me that I stunk. So I took the first shower and after she came out from her’s, we went shopping. I made sure to call Samantha to make sure it would be alright for us to use her car, and she was cool with it. She even suggested we meet up for lunch. So I mentioned to Grace that we’d hit the grocery store after that, so the food didn’t spoil.

Shopping went well, for the most part that is. We hit some of the clothing stores and I picked up the cutest little blue tank top and a pair of white shorts that looked awesome with it. Grace found a nice casual yellow button up shirt that just makes her look all that cuter. We were just walking into the shoe store, to see what they had to offer when I got blind sided and shoved into one of the displays.

“You think it’s funny you little shit? I slave away behind that fucking grill and you think it’s funny to make me fuck an order up?” came the unmistakable voice of Angela.

“The fuck is your problem?” I asked as I tried to get up, only to find myself pinned down by her thugs again.

“You know exactly what my fucking problem is!” she shouted back and again punched me in the gut. “Just because my mommy and daddy make me work for my spending money doesn’t make you better then me!” she said and followed that up with another punch.

It was after the second punch that the clerk at the store was able to get to us and he made her and her friends leave. I in the meantime, sat in one of the chairs and tried to get my breath back, since the second punch took some out of me. Grace helped the clerk pick up the display that my body had knocked over and was soon at my side, asking if I was alright.

“I’ll be fine.” I said taking a deep breath. “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“What was that all about?” she asked me.

“She works at the Monarch, and was on today when they put cheese on my sandwiches.”

“So she’s pissed at you because she screwed the pooch?” Grace asked me.

“Well, that and I hurt her hand the first time she punched me.” I said with a giggle then grabbed my stomach from the still lingering pain. “By the way, you never told me you were from a military family.”

“How did you know?”

“I had a cousin that was in the army and she always used the phrase, ‘screw the pooch,’ when she was talking about something being messed up.” I said with a grin.

“Mom and dad met while in the navy.” she told me. “Mom retired when I was born, but dad still does his admiral thing.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I asked in shock, “Admiral?”

“Yup, Admiral John Mangano, USS Intrepid.” she told me with that cute smile she has.

“Nice.” was all I could come up with.

We both ended up picking up a couple of cute pairs of shoes. Not that I’d been a shoe shopper before I ended up in this body mind you. I used to have one pair of work boots, my running shoes, rugby cleats, and a pair of dress shoes. That was it. But something about being with Grace in the shoe store made me want to get something cute. So I ended up with a pair of red stilettos with a five inch chrome heel, and Grace got a matching pair of black ones all to go with the dresses we had just picked up. I kind of had to talk Grace into getting the dress, since she was worried about making her money last her a while. I simply made up some story about having a coupon for buy one and get one free, so her dress would be free. Lucky for me, she bought it, while I paid for both dresses. I mean how could I, as a good friend, not get her a dress that makes her look THAT hot in it? Sometimes having money is a good thing right?

We met up with Samantha for lunch, and while I was hoping to just let the incident at the shoe store go, Grace HAD to tell her what happened with Angela. To say she wasn’t happy would be like saying the Grand Canyon was a ditch. She was livid. She was talking about expelling Angela and the group of girls who followed her every move. However I was able to talk some sense into her. I didn’t want to see the girl’s lives ruined just because of some anger management issues, so I suggested that she speak to Angela’s boss to dock her pay to make up for the damage to the display she sent me into at the store. That caused Samantha to pull me into a hug and say how proud of me she was for turning the other cheek.

Once we left Samantha after lunch, Grace and I hit the grocery store. To see the selections she was making, you’d have thought she had never been to one before. While I picked up some fresh fruits and vegetables, she was busy packing the cart with candy, and cookies. I ended up talking some sense into her, by explaining that in order for her to make it through the day without being drag ass tired at the end of it; she’d need to fuel her body right. I chose to explain it in car terms in hopes to make her understand.

“Think of your body as an engine.” I told her. “And food is the fuel. You could run it on nitro-methane.” I told her holding up a bag of candy and a box of cookies. “Or you could run it on diesel.” I said holding up some veggies. “One will make you go like hell for a short time. The other will give you more then enough power to go all day without problems. Which one do you think is better?”

“I get it mom.” she said sticking her tongue out at me.

“I’ve been there.” I said with a sigh. “I know what it’s like to be on your own for the first time, and all I’m trying to do is help you not make the same mistakes I made. Trust me. I like cookies like anyone else, but it only leads to being tired, and eventually, it’ll make you fat, because the sugar in them only lasts for a short time, so you’ll find yourself eating more and more of them to stay level.”

“Ok, so what’s next on the list of dos?” she asked putting back all but one of each of the junk food.

“Pasta,” I told her with a proud smile. “Pasta is what athletes eat the night before a big competition. They help your body, by storing the carbohydrates in them so you’ll have something left in the tank at the end of a long day.”

We ended up picking up quite a bit of healthy food. Mind you that I’m not opposed to some of the things she put in the cart, I just believe in moderation. All in all, we ended up with a couple hundred dollars worth of food that should last us a couple of weeks. Granted, the breads and milk will need to be replaced in a couple of days, but this was a good start, and again I foot the bill for the entire tab. Once we got home and had our bounty put away Grace came into my room and voiced her concern about me spending all my money on her.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.” she started. “It’s just that I feel bad about you paying for me all the time.”

“Fair enough,” I said as I sat next to her on the bed. “But there is a problem I have.”

“What’s that?”

“When I had my accident, I had about $20 in my account. That was back in 2008. And apparently there was a payout from the insurance company of the guy who hit me.”

“It couldn’t have been that big a pay out.” she said looking concerned.

“$1.2 million” I told her showing her the printout I got online from my old account. “Also there were two payouts from my parent's life policies. Now, I didn’t touch the funds for over a thousand years. And the interest kept piling up. So as you can see. The final balance before I pulled out $100 yesterday was $22 trillion.” I said looking at her eyes to try to gauge her reaction. “So you see, I really have more money than I know what to do with.”

“But why did you buy me a dress, and pay for my food?”

“I was always taught that if you are lucky enough to have some good luck, don’t hoard it. Share it with friends.” I said with a smile and took her hand in mine. “Grace, you’re the only friend I have.”

She didn’t say a word; she just started to cry and hugged me tight. We sat there for a while hugging and crying together, as I brought her to the realization that I liked her. That was when she told me that she hadn’t told me the whole truth back on the ride to the moon.

“Remember when I said I was leaving all my friends behind?” she asked wiping the tears away.

“Yeah, you were pretty pissed about it.”

“I lied. I never had any friends.” she said starting to sob again.

“Come on, how can that be?”

“Who wants’ to be friends with a girl who spends her time reading engineering books, and watching races on television?” she asked looking at me, to which I just raised my hand to signal that I would. “Come on, I mean, all the girls back home think I’m a freak, because I don’t listen to the latest boy band and I’d rather watch a race, than go to the mall.”

“And that’s a bad thing, HOW?” I asked with a smile.

“I’m serious!” she scolded me. “To make things worse I was the only girl in my old school that would rather date another girl then a guy.”

“Alright, then you and I are in the same boat.” I told her

“How’s that,” she asked sniffling?

“Well, I’d rather watch or go to a race than the mall. I’d rather hear the sound of a large v-8 engine with a lumpy cam then ANY boy band. And there is this one girl I’ve been thinking about kissing, but she beat me to the punch and kissed me first.” I said with a wink.

“You mean that?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes. “If I hadn’t kissed you first, you’d have kissed me?”

“Yes. Well, that is to say, I would have brought the subject up much like you did, and then played it by ear from there.”

She hugged me again and brought her face close to mine before stopping her lips just inches from mine. I smiled and placed my hands gently on her face and leaned in to give her the softest, most passion filled kiss I’d ever given. I even heard her moan softly as I continued to caress her face. When I finally broke the kiss off, she smiled at me and then blushed.

“Wow, that was nice.” she told me with another hug.

“Yeah, it was for me too.” I said smiling at her. “But I do have one suggestion for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Relax. Don’t kiss, like you’re pressing your lips against a glass door. Think of it more like eating a peach.” I told her.

“I don’t follow you.” she said confused.

“Alright, you’ve eaten a peach before right?”

“Yeah, lot’s of times.”

“Alright, which way works better? Keeping your lips tight and drawn hard against your teeth, or loose, and soft, so you can let them catch the juice?”

“Soft and loose.” she said cocking her head to try to follow my analogy.

“Alright, think about that when you kiss. If you keep your lips soft and loose, it allows the other person to feel you more. Think about how my lips are when I kiss you. Do you like that?”

“OH YEAH!” she told me with a smile.

“Alright, then lets try it again.” I told her leaning in to kiss her again.

She licked her lips and did what I suggested. It was the most electric feeling I’d ever had from kissing her. Her lips were so soft, and she caressed my face like I’d done hers. At that moment, I’d have done just about anything for her. I had to force myself to remember what I thought about earlier. So I pulled away a bit, and she followed my lead. Once we broke off the kiss we were both panting a bit, and she started to giggle as she saw my nipples poking though my shirt.

We ended up cuddling again that night but I made sure we both got up in time for the first day of classes. The whole world seemed to be working with me to make a happy life. I guess it was Karma’s way of saying ‘Hey, sorry about that crash. Here, this one’s on me.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

As luck would have it, we did find a race from back in the day. Even luckier, was that it was my first drag race, and I pointed out to her when ever I saw myself on TV. Mean Girls 3026 Part 6 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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The first day of classes was pretty much like it had been at every other school I’d gone to. The biggest difference was that instead of handing out the course outline on paper, the teachers had us down load them to our computers. I guess that is easier, but a part of me still missed being able to go over it, and be able to highlight the important dates. Anyway, I found out that Grace and I were the only females in the entire engineering department so the pressure was going to be on us to make a good impression, so the future girls would have an easier time being accepted. I also found out that each of us would be responsible for a project, having something to do with motorsports that would be due by the end of the year. This would count for 75% of our final grade, so if the pressure wasn’t on before, it was now.

I made the choice to do a multimedia show about the evolution of drag racing. I got on the phone to Amanda and had her send the box of my things, my parents put away for me. I knew I had around 100 drag racing DVD’s in my collection, and that would be a good start. At least I’d have a good selection of what’s considered “Nostalgia” racing. Once I got off the phone with Amanda, I got online and started ordering every ‘year in review’ video I could get my hands on. By the time I was done, I had a thousand coming, and that should give me a good cross section of footage to use.

Grace found an invitation to a party slid under our door, when she got back from the hair salon. The party was going to be in the senior dorm this weekend and the invite said that everyone was welcome to attend. The only catch was that it was going to be a costume party, and anyone not in costume, would be made to strip and issued a trench coat, so they could attend as a flasher. I started to laugh when I read the note at the bottom of the invite that mentioned that this year they’d like to keep the flashers to less than twenty.

Grace and I started brain storming about what to go as, and she laughed at first when I suggested super heroes, but once I explained it to her, she was more accepting.

“Well, you have natural dark hair, and I have natural blond hair. Here’s what I’m thinking.” I told her with a grin. “You go as Wonder woman, and I’ll go as Super Girl.”

“I don’t have the body to pull off an Amazon Amy.” she told me with a smirk.

“They make a solution for that.” I told her with a giggle.

“Yeah, it’s called steroids and a boob job.”

“NO! They’re called prosthetics.” I said shaking my head. “Even back in the day they made fake boobs that you could use makeup to blend into your own body and they looked so real back then that no one would guess they weren’t real.”

“Alright, what about the muscles?” she asked me. “What super hero doesn’t have muscles?”

“Alright, let’s look online and see what’s out there.” I told her pulling out my laptop.

It didn’t take long for me to find each of us the right costume. Mine would come with the standard issue blue, tight fitting shirt, and tights, both with built in muscles. The Wonder Woman costume, came with sleeves and leggings that had the same treatment to them. The kit for Grace even included a pair of fake boobs that according to the sizing chart, would plump her chest up to a J cup, due to her slender build. I called around to the costume shop in the station, and found out that they did have one of each kit left in stock, so without hesitation, I put both on my card, and told the sales clerk that I’d be down in a couple of minutes to pick them up.

Once I got the costumes home, we each went to our rooms and tried them on. Granted, Grace took a bit longer than I did, since she had to blend her new boobs into her chest with makeup, but I couldn’t help but laugh when she came out and flexed her biceps at me. I of course did the same in return, and we both giggled. It was pretty cool to play dress up and we both agreed that we’d have to do more together when we had more time.

The day of the party, we both spent a lot of time primping and grooming, getting ready. We both wanted to make a good impression, since this was the first social gathering of peers for either of us. Well that is to say her first party ever, and mine, with this body. I helped her blend her falsie’s onto her chest so there was no visible seam. And once I had my cape on, we were off to the senior dorm. That is when I started getting a feeling, that we’d been had.

The closer we got, the more people we saw wearing nothing but togas. I didn’t think much of it at first, thinking that it was just a group going as romans to the costume party. It wasn’t until we were standing in front of the senior dorm that I realized it wasn’t a costume party, it was a toga party. And there were Grace and I sticking out like two KKK members at the million man march. I had just suggested to Grace that we leave, when I heard a megaphone call attention to us.

“Look at the little girls!” Angela’s voice said loud and clear for everyone to hear. “It’s Super Lesbian, and Wonder Dyke.”

This statement caused everyone to laugh and point at us. I was mortified, and Grace was crying. So I did what I could, by covering her with my cape, and beat feet to get out of there. Once we got back to the apartment, I looked at the invitation again, and could make out that someone had doctored it. There was clearly a line around the word ‘costume’, like someone had cut out a piece of paper and taped it over the original, then photocopied it to make it seem authentic. I got out of my suit while Grace had a good cry. I suggested she get changed, while I went down to the lobby and talked to the security guard. He showed me the copy of the invite the rest of the campus had received, and there it was, clear as day, “Toga party.” I started thinking of what to do to get back at Angela, and then it dawned on me. I’d seen many people with beers in their hands at the party. So I calmly told to officer on duty that they were drinking at the party. This of course caused him to call it in and by the time Grace had showered off and had removed the last bits of glue that held the fake boobs on, you could hear the commotion in the hall from people returning from the party.

The next day, when I went for my run, I was shocked to find Angela running at the same time. She even seemed a bit cordial, as she asked nicely if she could join me. I was a bit leery at first, but after the first mile, she hadn’t pulled anything, so I relaxed a bit. Once I was done with my five miles, she even apologized for last night.

“Look, I’m sorry I played a trick on you.” she said looking sincere. “I was just trying to have a little fun. I’m sorry if I upset you or what’s her name.” she told me holding out her hand.

“Her name is Grace, and I’ll bet you don’t even know mine either do you?” I asked looking suspiciously at her.

“It’s Amy. I know who you are. I was just giving you a hard time like my older sisters did me, when I was a freshman here.” she explained then held out her hand. “Look, no hard feelings?”

I hesitated, but I always look for the good in people, so I shook her hand. It was then that she asked if Grace and I would like to go to the mall with her and her friends a bit later. I wasn’t sure if Grace would be up for it, so I told Angela I’d call her, and went up to my place.

Grace was still out like a light when I got back, so I just slipped into the shower so I could try to get the sweat off me. While in there, my mind started drifting to why Angela had apologized. She has given me nothing but grief since I arrived at the school, and while part of me wanted to believe she was a genuinely good person, the careful part of my brain was screaming for me to proceed with caution. After all, the last thing I wanted was to get cornered and punched in the stomach again.

Grace finally came to a little after 8am, and I was busy cooking breakfast while she did her morning ritual. While we ate, I explained the experience I had while jogging. She, like I’d been, was a bit skeptical, but chose to go with it, and I called Angela to find out what time we’d meet her at the mall.

All in all, it was a pretty enjoyable trip. We found a few shops that had some really nice clothes at reasonably low prices, and found that the girls that Angela hung out with weren’t really that bad a group. It took a little while for most of them to warm up to the fact that we were with them, but once they did, we were all laughing and cracking jokes like old friends. They even started pointing out some outfits that would look ‘cute’ on me. I ended up with a handful of new tops and pant sets that would work well together, and Grace got some new skirts, since she’s really a tomboy at heart. The other’s realized this, and helped her ‘girly’ up a bit. It kind of felt good to be accepted as just one of the girls. In my mind I was still terrified that someone would out me as having the mind of a guy, and I’d be the school’s leper.

That weekend, we ended up going to a club with the girls, and though I tried to protest, they ended up setting me up with one of ‘the cute boys’ on campus. We talked, but I quickly found out that he was a jock and we really didn’t have anything in common. To him, football was life, and if you didn’t like football, you sucked. Have I mentioned that I think football players; that play the American version of the game, are all a bunch of pussies?

Ask any rugby player if he needs pads or a helmet. The answer is not only no, but HELL NO! Those pansies that play American football go to the trainer every time they bend a finger back, or get hit too hard. Most rugby players will tell you stories of when they played a game with a broken hand, or some other part of their body. These overpaid prima donnas in the NFL wouldn’t last until half time of a rugby game. Trust me; I know this for a fact. The team I scrimmaged with back in the day played a pick up game with the local college football team and most of the ‘stars’ were done by the time we broke for a water break, and didn’t come back for the second half. Yet here I was sitting with this schmuck that Angela’s friends hooked me up with, having to hear him go on, and on about how great football is.

Grace wasn’t faring any better with the guy she was hooked up with by the girls. Her guy was basically the wing man for one of the other guys. That means is he is supposed to buddy up to the friend of the girl his buddy is trying to get with. So that meant that since she didn’t have a guy with her when she got there, and this guy’s friends all wanted to hook up with one of the other girls in our little group, that his mission was to make Grace feel special. However, I should mention that he failed miserably at the job. By the time we ended up leaving, she was about ready to kill either herself or him to make him shut up about how rich his parent’s were.

I’ve been a wing man before when a good friend of mine tried to hook up a couple of times, and I can say from experience that the best course of action is to ask about HER. Don’t say word one about you. If you’re flying wing, it’s all about the girl. If you do it right, even if she’s not your type, she’ll go to her friend and tell her how nice she thinks your buddy’s friend is, and that she’d like to go out again. That usually means that your friend will get a second date and this fact will cause him to owe you big time.

Once we got back to our apartment, Grace and I both just flopped on the couch and tried to find a race on. As luck would have it, we did find a race from back in the day. Even luckier, was that it was my first drag race, and I pointed out to her when ever I saw myself on TV. She got excited when our car kept winning, and when we faced off in the finals with the car that finished second in the points, she was almost in tears when we ended up runner up. I explained to her that for all intense and purposes we never should have made it as far as we did, she finally realized just how much fun it was for me to be there.

“We were running a motor that was at least two hundred horsepower less than the rest of the field.” I told her. “And the chassis had been tweaked at the previous race, so we had to be careful with the clutch setup so we didn’t spin the tires. It was a crap shoot all weekend long.”

“Wow, so you guys got a moral victory just by making it as far as you did?” she asked.

“Yes. In fact, that driver I worked with that weekend, had never had a final round appearance.”

“And you helped him get there?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. I basically took some of the work load off him, so he could work on the setup with the crew chief.”

She smiled and kissed me, without saying a word. We were both tired from running around all weekend with Angela so we both headed to bed and fell asleep cuddling.

TO BE CONTINUED...

“Not healthy?” Angela asked me. “I’ll tell you what’s not healthy. Being you right now. I’m going to get you. Count on it.” she told me just before she let me go and I quickly found mom." Mean Girls 3026 Part 7 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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There was a part of me that was still leery of allowing Angela to get close. Even when she ended up helping me on my project, I was still a bit worried, but she never pulled anything, even when we started running together every day. Not even when she invited me to come to the gym with her to work out. She seemed genuinely interested in helping me. However, there was one thing that I couldn’t over look, and I found it out when we were working out.

The thing I noticed, that first day in the gym, was that she looked different than when I’d seen her that first day. When we ran I didn’t see it, since she usually wore a sweatshirt, and sweat pants. However, once we were in the gym, she had on a pair of shorts, and a t-shirt, that was cut to be a belly shirt. This is when I noticed first that she had a pack of abs that you could do laundry on. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do a couple hundred sit ups a day myself, but while my abs were speed bumps; her abs were like rolling hills. It was then that I could see her arms were vascular as hell. I don’t just mean that her veins were showing, I mean they looked like they were trying to rip loose from her skin. When she started to stretch, it was then that I saw she had the build of an amateur bodybuilder. She was ripped. Not really huge, but you could tell that she was hitting the weights hard.

Once we started our workout, it became clear to me, that I was glad I was on this girl’s good side. She lifted like an animal and grunted like one too. I was kind of embarrassed from the looks she and I were getting from the others in the gym as she worked her body. And what a body it was. Her arms became ripped with sinewy muscle. Her shoulders were clearly defined from her arm, and her chest looked like someone had grafted a couple of steaks under her breasts. By the time we were done, she was pumped. I don’t just mean she had a good sweat and was breathing hard, I mean every part of her body, was throbbing, and you could see that her arms, chest and shoulders were bigger than when we had started. She really freaked me out when she stood up from her bench press, and flexed her biceps. The entire gym could hear the ripping sound as her shirt sleeves lost the battle with her powerful muscles, but she didn’t stop there. She went in to the classic crab pose, and her shirt ripped right up the middle of the back, exposing it to the entire gym. Good thing her sports bra held, or else some of the guys would have gotten a real show.

We both showered in the locker room, since I really didn’t want to go all the way across the campus, smelling like the inside of the gym. I ended up asking her about how she was able to put up so much weight, and she told me that it wasn't due to the moon's gravity, they have gravity pumps make it actually feel like Mars in the gym, she was just using her body to the maximum.

Angela was done with her shower quickly, but I lingered a bit, since the water in the locker room had more pressure then the apartment. Once I finished, I wrapped a towel around myself and went out to the locker area to find Angela. It was at this point that I saw something that would change how I looked at her as both a person and as a potential friend.

I turned the corner to the row of lockers we had put our stuff in, and I saw her jabbing a needle into her ass. I was freaked out to say the least, and started to question her about it.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed. “You’re a god damn junky?” I asked staring at her wide eyed.

“It’s not what you think.” she told me as she pulled the needle back out. “It’s not drugs.”

“So you’re diabetic?” I asked sheepishly. Thinking I’d jumped to conclusions.

“No.” she said shaking her head. “These shots are hormones.”

“Hormones? for what?”

“I’m a bodybuilder.”

“You’re taking steroids?” I asked in shock.

“They’re not steroids. It’s just bovine growth hormone.”

“Uh, Angela, that is what most steroids are.”

“Ok, so I’m, taking steroids. What are you going to do about it?” she asked as she started to look angry.

“Hey, we’re cool. My lips are sealed.” I told her putting my hands up in surrender.

“Fucking right your lips are sealed.” she said flexing her arm at me with a fist.

I didn’t say another word while I got dressed and then drove her back to her dorm. Once I got back to my place, Grace could see that I was shaken and a bit disturbed. But I refused to tell her about what I’d just gone through. I simply went into my room and put in a little more work to the presentation I was working on. For some reason, working on my project always made me get a bit lost in time.

What I was doing, was putting the video clips I was using to songs from the era of the footage. The early stuff was easy. I used 1950's and ‘60's car songs, and then ‘70s through 2008 hard rock. The hard part I was having was finding songs from the time of my accident until now. That was my first project. I basically was using one song per ten year stretch of footage.

Work progressed well, and I found that by the end of the year I had everything done, and synced up well enough to make a coherent project. The rest of the class was pretty impressed at all the older footage, and even my Nostalgic Motorsports instructor hadn’t seen much of the footage I was using for the early segments.

By the time school ended for the year, I did continue to run and work out with Angela. It wasn’t really that I had a choice in the matter either. Since I knew her secret, she kept a close eye on me, to make sure I didn’t tell anyone. In the mean time, she continued to lift hard and heavy, and by when the time came to fly home, she was close to two hundred pounds of solid muscle. To say she scared the hell out of me that this point would be an understatement. I was scared shitless of her. I’d seen what she did to her locker one day when it wouldn’t open. Poor fucking metal door, it never had a chance. She punched her fist through it, and then pulled it clean off the hinges. I would sure feel better to be home and safe with mom, and dad. That is what I had taken to calling Amanda and Mark over Christmas break.

Once the ship touched down and we were back on earth, I was happy to see mom and dad at the airport. Amanda looked like she’d been working out more than when I’d seen her in December, but maybe it was just my eyes. They both asked me about how school had gone, and how my project had turned out. When I told them I got an A on the presentation, they were both ecstatic, and before we went home, they took me to dinner to celebrate.

Once we got home, and mom helped me put my things away, she and I both decided to go for a swim and I told her I’d meet her down stairs in after I put on my bikini. I’d picked up a cute red one at one of the shops at school and wanted to wear it for the first time, so I put it on and did a little pose in front of my mirror, smiling since it made me look uber-cute. As I made my way to the back yard and the pool I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw mom standing there in her bikini.

I couldn’t help have a flashback to Angela and everything that had gone on at school once I laid eyes on mom and her bulging muscles in her tight, tiny bikini. Oh man, she did look great, like always, but I was still shocked at the transformation she put her body through since I’d last seen her for Christmas break.

“Something wrong hun?” she asked me putting her hair in a braid.

“What happened to you?” I asked slack jawed.

“What?” she asked with a smile then flexed her arm, “These little things?”

“Uh, YEAH!”

“I’ve been working out with Mrs. Johnson.” she told me before diving into the pool.

I didn’t have any idea who the woman was that mom said was her work out partner, but from the looks of mom, she had to be one hell of a built woman. I chose not to ask any more, for fear that she might react like Angela had at school. I just dove in and kept stealing looks as I cooled off and relaxed a bit. Letting the water wash my cares away and it helped me forget about Angela and all the problems.

I got into a routine after a week of being home. I’d still go for my runs with mom, and then swim some laps in the pool to help work my overall body. Then I’d go out to the garage, and work on the classic car I’d bought online. Classic perhaps isn’t the best term to use. It’s a 1968 Plymouth Barracuda. To see it compared to the cars of today, this thing was ancient. I mean, it would have been a classic in my time, but here we were a thousand years later. It was done the way I’d always wanted one of these cars too. The guy I got it from had raced it as a Super Stock Hemi Automatic, in the NHRA. The only thing I did was add a horn and a working speedometer so I could drive it on the street. Mark was cool with it, since I let him take the first few trips in it. That is, until I got my license. The look on the proctor’s face was classic, as he climbed in to my car and saw a cute teenage girl driving the beastliest car ever to come out of Dearborn in the muscle car era. I passed with flying colors, and before the ink was dry on my license, I was on a road trip to Utica to meet up with Grace. She about freaked when she heard the roar of my big block coming down her street.

“How did I know it was you, when I heard that roar of this thing coming?” she asked as she hugged me.

“Lucky guess”, I said with a giggle?

“So what is it?” she asked as she looked at my new ride.

“Well, it’s a 1968 Barracuda. The previous owner raced it, and it has some history to it.” I said as I opened the hood so she could get her first look at a Hemi engine. “This was the first super stock car into the 8's, back in the day.”

“Wow. So it’s pretty fast?”

“Yeah, it was fast back in 2006 when it went that quick. Now with the modifications they made to it over the past thousand years, it’ll do mid sixes all day. That is as quick at the pro-stocks used to go back in the day.”

“Cool. We can go to the cruse night later.” she told me dragging me into the house. “My mom’s waiting to meet you.”

I won’t bore you with the details of the trip, just that her mom was cool for an ex-navy captain. Grace and I were able to get together a couple of times that summer and since it was usually on the weekends, I never got the chance to meet Mrs. Johnson, the woman mom’s been lifting weights with. Not that it bothers me either way, it’s just something she’s doing to pass the time, and I’m proud of her for taking her body to the next level. I did ask her if she was using steroids though.

“No. I’m trying to get ready for the NPC’s.” she told me. “That is an all clean show. They test blood, urine and hair to make sure you’re clean.”

“That’s good.” I told her with a hug. “I’d hate to see anything happen. I mean those things are bad for you.”

“That’s right.” she told me with a smile and flexed her arm. “This baby’s all natural.”

I went to the competition with her, and she and I sat in the audience when the junior division did their thing. I was shocked to see Angela up on stage, but never said a word to mom about knowing her. Amanda did however make the comment that there is no way Angela could get that big without ‘help.’ And she was right. I knew for a fact that she’d been using, and using hard. Once they announced the winners, I was shocked when they announced it was Angela for the heavyweights and overall teen titles. But I kept my mouth shut for fear of the beating I’d take if she suspected I told on her.

The next day, just before mom’s group was to have their show, they announced that Angela Johnson had been disqualified for failing the drug test. And the new winner was the girl who’d placed second to her. I did my best to hide and make sure Angela didn’t see me there at the contest. It would have seemed suspicious that I was there and she got disqualified.

Mom on the other hand, ended up finishing second to Mrs. Johnson, in the over 40 class. Once I made my way back stage, I threw my arms around mom and told her how proud I was of her. She finally introduced me to Mrs. Johnson who in turn introduced me to her daughter. Angela. She looked shocked to see me at first, but that look quickly gave way to anger. She looked like she was about to kill me, once she realized I was at the contest. She pulled me aside to talk to me, while our mom’s finished changing back into their street clothes.

“I know you ratted me out.” she said pinning me against a wall. “I’m going to get you for getting me disqualified.”

“I didn’t say a word, I swear.” I told her as I started to shake.

“You expect me to believe you?” she asked, pounding her fist against the wall.

“I swear on my life, I didn’t tell a soul.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of what?”

“That I’m stronger and prettier then you are.”

“Actually, you freak me out. I mean, come on, you are obsessed with getting bigger. That can’t be healthy.” I said then gulped, as I realized what I’d just said.

“Not healthy?” she asked. “I’ll tell you what’s not healthy. Being you right now. I’m going to get you. Count on it.” she told me just before she let me go and I quickly found mom.

Amanda could tell I was shaken, on the ride home. I didn’t want to tell her, but she finally drug it out of me over a bowl of ice-cream . I explained about the trouble I had with Angela at first at school, and then how she seemed to act like a friend to me. I also let mom know about the vast amounts of steroids I’d seen Angel taking. She was a bit concerned, and I begged her not to tell Mrs. Johnson, but she didn’t listen to me. Mrs. Johnson came with us on our run the next morning and once we were all by the pool after the workout; mom let the cat out of the bag, and sealed my fate at the hands of Angela.

What surprised me more than hearing mom tell Mrs. Johnson about Angela, was that the woman actually got mad and called mom a liar. She kept saying that her baby wouldn’t do that sort of thing and stormed off after calling me every name in the book. For her part, all mom did was stand there shaking her head, before pulling me into a hug, telling me that she believed me.

The rest of the summer was a blur pretty much. I remember that mom and Mrs. Johnson stopped working out together and mom and I started lifting together. It kind of felt good to be able to use what I’d learned back in the day to help push mom even further. By the time I’d gone back to school I’d actually helped mom pack on another fifteen pounds of muscle. This meant that she should be ready for her next contest; however I’d be at school so I’d have to follow it online.

Once back at school, Angela confronted me and with all her friends around she pinned me against a wall again. I could see that she’d been hitting both the weights and steroids hard and heavy, since her arms were nearly as big as my head.

“Get the fuck off me you freak.” I spat at her as I struggled to get free.

“Freak am I?” she asked with a grin. “I’ll show you a freak.” she told me as she cocked her fist.

It was then that I saw Samantha walk up and demand to know what was going on. Angela mumbled something about this not being over, as she let me go, and walked off. I hugged Samantha, and she let me know that mom had told her to expect trouble. The only thing is, none of us knew what kind of trouble lay ahead.

TO BE CONTINUED...

However, me being the type who looks for the good in people, just thought Angela was trying to make nice. WRONG!!!" Mean Girls 3026 Part 8 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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I did my best to avoid Angela at school for the first few weeks. Granted, I’d still go to the Monarch, and get a burger on occasion, but I went out of my way to make sure I didn’t cross paths with her when she wasn’t behind the grill. Hindsight being twenty, twenty, I probably should have been a little more random in the times I went for a burger, or at least where I got a burger. Let me explain.

It had been a few weeks since the incident that first day back and I thought everything had calmed down. I had been going to the Monarch for lunch since it was the closest place to grab something, from the engineering building. I guess I should have become suspicious when I saw Angela working the grill every day, and even more so, when my burgers started coming back correct. There were even a couple of times when my food was ready the moment I walked in the door. However, me being the type who looks for the good in people, just thought Angela was trying to make nice. WRONG!!!

I first started noticing that my sports bras were getting tighter when I went for my morning jogs. At first I chalked it up to a little weight gain, from the steady diet of burgers for lunch. It wasn’t until I went clothes shopping to find bras that fit that I realized I wasn’t getting fat anywhere except my breasts.

I’d gone to the store where I bought the dresses for Grace and myself that first weekend, and the sales lady measured us both. When I went back for new bra’s I was shocked to find out that I’d added three inches to my chest in only three weeks. I hadn't grown any in all the time I've been in this body but here I was three cup sizes bigger. Perhaps shocked isn’t the correct word. Perplexed seems more appropriate. I know Amanda has a sizeable chest so I didn’t really think too much of it, until a week later I had to go back again for new bra’s, only to find out that I’d grown another two inches.

I made it a point to stop at the infirmary, and asked for a blood test to find out if my hormones were out of wack or something. I know that back in my time, there were stories of girls with a condition called VBH*. Don’t ask me what it stands for, all I know is that the girls who had it, grew REALLY large chests. The nurse told me that I’d need a guardian’s signature to authorize them to do the test, so I had no choice but to call Samantha and explain to her what was going on. She hadn’t really seen me since we started classes, since she was busy running the school, and I was busy working on my assignments. When she saw me, her jaw dropped and I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head.

“What the hell happened?” she asked me.

“I don’t know.” I said as I started to tear up. “A couple of weeks ago, my clothes started to get tight around the chest, so I went for new bra’s last week. The girl who measured me showed me that I’d grown a couple of inches in the bust. Well, you know how mom’s got a nice size chest, so I wasn’t too worried at the time. But when I had to go back today for new ones, I got worried. I’ve grown another two inches in one week.” I told her sobbing and buried my head in my hands and cried my eyes out from a mix of fear, and anger at not knowing why this was going on.

“It’s alright.” she told me as she put her hand on my shoulder and then pulled me into a hug. “We’ll find out what’s going on, and do what we can for you.”

The nurse drew some of my blood and then while we were still there, she put it in some machine and then fired up a computer. I can only guess that she was analyzing it right then and there so we didn’t have to wait too long. While we did wait, I just put my head on Samantha’s shoulder and cried, out of fear of what was going on to the body I was trapped in.

“It’s alright hun.” she told me. “I know you aren’t ready for it, but it looks like your body might just be going through the journey into womanhood. It’s nothing to be scared of.” she said stroking my hair.

It didn’t take long for the nurse to find out what was going on with me. But what she did find shocked her and scared the hell out of me. Apparently, I had grossly elevated levels of female growth hormones in my system. She didn’t think anything of it at first, until she dug a bit deeper, and found out it was BOVINE female hormones. This revelation caused Samantha to start asking me all sorts of questions. Between the two of them, the nurse and Samantha, they figured out that the only way I could have been exposed was from the burgers I’d been eating.

Samantha immediately contacted the manager of the Monarch, and told her to test to meat for anything funny. In the mean time she suggested that I start bringing my lunch to school. Which of course I did. The fact still remained that I needed to buy new clothes, since the nurse had told me that it would be at least another week, before the hormones worked their way out of my system. Samantha asked me if I wanted her to go with me, but I told her I’d be alright. Again, looking back, I should have brought her along.

I walked into one of the little shops that I knew would be able to measure me right and have me fitted for the right size bra’s. As I was leaving the store, I heard that damn voice that I have come to hate with a passion.

“Holy shit. Packing on the pounds aren’t you? You fucking cow.” came Angela’s voice in a giggle.

“What did you just call me?” I turned to face my nemesis.

“Well that’s what you are, isn’t it? Nothing but a fat milking cow now right?”

“You bitch. You did this to me.”

“Prove it”

“It’s already being done.” I said with a smile. “It’s only a matter of time before the police find what they’re looking for.”

“Good luck with that, or maybe I should say it so you’ll understand it.” she paused to grin. “MOO!”

That was all it took. I dropped my bags and decked the bitch. Her cronies were all shocked and one even tried to grab for me before she met with the business end of my fist as well. That sent the rest of the girls scattering. They all took off and I simply picked up my bags and walked away. Granted I was balling my eyes out from just having lost my temper, but for some reason it felt good. That feeling didn’t last long, for when I arrived back at the apartment, Samantha was already there with a couple of the stations’ police.

Apparently the test of the meat the Monarch had, didn’t come back with any levels of hormones in the patties. So Samantha finally put two and two together and came up with the same answer I had earlier. Angela. The officers asked me if I wanted to press charges, and like a dumb ass, I told them no. I also explained about the incident outside the lingerie store, and how I’d assaulted Angela and another girl. The officers told me that the owner of the shop saw and heard everything and put a call into Samantha, who in turn called the police; since she had just found out about the rest of the meat at the Monarch.

I didn’t know what to do. My body was becoming like that of a striper and that was the last thing I wanted, since when I have been going for my morning runs, I’ve been getting all sorts of cat calls from some of the guys I’ve been passing as it was BEFORE my chest balloons inflated. To make things worse, some of the guys in my classes seem to think my eyes are somewhere near my nipples, if you follow me. I didn’t want to see anyone right then, so I just went to my room and locked the door. I don’t know how long it was before I heard the cops leave, but soon after, I heard Grace come in.

Since I realized I was getting bigger, she’s been looking at me funny too. It’s a look I can’t really describe; Kind of a mix between lust and jealousy. Before all this happened, she and I could wear each other’s bras and for the most part we could each borrow ANYTHING from the other’s closet, except shoes, since I’m a full size bigger than her. But now, I don’t dare take anything from her wardrobe, since most likely I’ll end up putting two big stretch marks in the front of any top I put on.

On the other hand, she’s been more attentive to my chest when we make out. It’s almost like her hands are steel and my boobs are magnets. The girl just can’t keep her hands off my tits. Don’t get me wrong. She give’s great chest massages, but there have been times over the past few weeks I got to thinking that all she wants me for is my body. It’s kind of disheartening to think that we’ve gone from good friends to me being her personal stress relief ball, or balls as the case were. I just lay there sobbing into my pillow when I heard a knock at my door.

“Amy, can I come in?”

“Go away!” I shouted at the door to Grace.

“Please? I just want to talk.”

“Leave me alone!”

“Don’t do this Amy.” I heard her sigh. “Damn it! I love you!”

Her words cut through me like a knife. “Did she just say what I think I heard her say? She loves me?” I thought to myself. “You can’t love me, I’m a freak; a fucking freak with big fat cow udders!” I shouted back through the still closed door.

“You aren’t a freak. You’re just having body issues. It’s not a problem. I love the person on the inside.” she told me as I heard my door open. Damn the guy who made all the keys to the apartment open all the doors.

“Get out!” I spat back.

“I’m not leaving until you hear me out.” damn her for being stubborn.

“FINE! WHAT!?” I shot back as I rolled over to glare at her for disturbing my cry.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” she said as she walked over and sat down on the edge of my bed. “You are NOT and I’ll repeat that incase you didn’t catch it; you are NOT a freak!” she said as she smiled a tender smile at me. “You are a beautiful young woman and I’m proud to call you my best friend. You can’t let what some bitch did to you effect your outlook on life.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you still fit into a size 2 shirt!” I told her as I started to cry again and pulled a pillow over my chest.

“Be that as it may, you still are the smartest person in this place.” she said as she placed her hand over one of mine. “Who has the highest GPA?”

“Uh, right now I do for our grade.”

“Right, and who’s the only one who knows what she’s doing in the nostalgia lab?”

“Me” I said sighing.

“Right, and who was it that helped me pass that test on twentieth century muscle cars?”

“Me.” I said abruptly. “So what’s your point?”

“You are still the same brilliant mind you have been. The only thing that’s changed is you have a larger chest.” she smiled softly at me, “But so what?”

“So what, I’ll tell you so what! My back hurts when I stand for too long, and I need to wear three sports bra’s when I go for my morning run, just so I can have some semblance of support so the twins don’t give me black eyes. And to make matters worse. Every fucking guy in this place seems to think my eyes are located somewhere near my nipples when they talk to me.”

“We can get through this.”

“We, what’s with this we?” I asked indignantly. “Last I checked you aren’t carrying around a set of tits the size of volleyballs.”

“Oh get off it. Yours aren’t the size of volleyballs.” she said with a coy grin, “Cantaloupes perhaps.”

“I’m crying and you’re cracking jokes. THANKS, I feel SO much better.” I said in my most sarcastic tone.

“Alright, just know this. You are my best friend. In fact, you’re my only friend, and I hate to see you sad.” she told me as she got up and walked over to the door, to grab a shopping bag. “Here, I got you a little something.” she told me handing me the bag.

“What is this?” I asked taking the bag tentatively.

“It’s something having to do with something you told me you used to do.”

I opened the bag and found a green and blue rugby jersey with stitched on silver letters on the front, of the fraternity I helped start at my old college back in the day. I pulled it out and there on the back was my house name and old number in the same silver letter as the front. I was taken aback from the suddenness of the gift. Once again I started to cry and I reached out for Grace to hug her.

“You have no idea what this means to me.” I told her sniffling on her shoulder.

“Actually I have a bit of an idea.” she told me gently rubbing my back. “I called your mom and told her that you were having some issues. So she spoke to your dad and he suggested getting you something with your old house colors on it. It seems that since he found out that you helped found his fraternity, he did a little research and came up with that you were the brother who showed the most loyalty to the house. He did, however tell me that he really didn’t want to see the crest back on your arm, whatever that means.”

“The short version,” I said as I started to giggle, “Was that I had the house crest tattooed on my arm the semester after the guys got chartered by the school. I kind of became a legend, because I had a photorealistic version of the crest with full colors and background. Every time I went to a party, someone would ask to see it.” I said wiping the tears away. “That’s what dad meant.”

“Got’cha.” she told me with a smile. “Well are you going to try it on or not?” she said pointing to the shirt she got for me.

I left the t-shirt I had on, on while I pulled the rugby jersey over my head. I finally got my head through the hole after I unbuttoned a couple of the buttons, and stood to look at myself in the mirror I had behind my door. What I saw looking back at me, was a girl who looked like she had on her boyfriend’s shirt. And from the size of the shirt, you didn’t want to fuck with her, for fear of having to answer to him. I turned to Grace and hugged her tight.

“You’re a genius!” I shouted. “How did you come up with the idea to get one so big?”

“Actually I just got one I hoped your breasts wouldn’t outgrow for a while.” she said with a sheepish grin on her face.

“Either way it works. I’m practically swimming in this thing. And everyone’s going to think I have a monster of a boyfriend now.” I said with a giggle. “If they only knew I only have eyes for one special girl.”

That comment caused Grace to kiss me like she’d been practicing for the past month. It was a soft kiss, almost like pressing your lips against a ripe peach. Every time she does that, it sends a tingle down my spine. What she did next shocked me though. Granted, we’d french kissed before, but when she put her tongue into my mouth this time, I felt a hard round... thing probing my mouth. I immediately broke off the kiss.

“What the hell was that?” I asked in shock.

“Oh, this?” she asked sticking her tongue out to show me the barbell piercing she had sticking out of it. “You like?”

“When did you get that?”

“I had it done while your shirt was being made.” she said with a smile.

“That is pretty cool.” I said with a smile. “But you know the old saying...”

“What’s that?” she asked

“If a woman’s got her tongue pierced, she’ll probably suck your dick. If a man’s got his tongue pierced... he’ll probably suck your dick.” I giggled

“You’re awful.” she said as she playfully swatted my arm.

“There's no sex in the champagne room." came Samantha’s voice from near the door. "Wasn’t that a comedy skit from back in the day?”

“Uh, yeah, It was” I said turning red in the face.

“I just wanted you to know, that the police found a stash of bovine hormones in Angela’s room.” she said as the smile left her face. “She’ll be getting expelled and the Burger Monarch already said they’ll be pressing charges for industrial sabotage. The police want to know if you’ll make a statement so they can use what was found in your blood test to put her away.”

“You know what? Yes. Yes I will.” I said with a smile. “Maybe a few years in jail will teach her a lesson.”

“Either that or being some woman’s bitch for a couple of years will show her what it’s like to be picked on.” Grace said causing all three of us to laugh.

Samantha took us out to dinner that night and I wore the jersey my best friend made me. The funny thing was every guy we came near, looked away as we walked by. I guess the jersey had the effect I was expecting it to have after all. Later that night, Grace and I cuddled in my bed and for the first time since my chest started to grow, there wasn’t any real attention paid to the twins. Part of me was happy for the rest they got, but another part of me kind of missed the tingling sensations her fingers caused on my nipples. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of asking Grace if she wanted to get matching nipple piercings when I go to get my tongue pierced. We’ll see.

TO BE CONTINUED...

*VBH: as told by http://www.Wicpedia.org

Virginal breast hypertrophy (VBH) is not a medical name, but the more known name for juvenile macromastia and juvenile gigantomastia. It causes excessive growth of the breasts during puberty and has a much higher frequency than the rare cases of breast hypertrophy in pregnancy.
VBH normally starts when puberty starts, soon after the girl's first menstrual period. But some doctors suggest that breast development (thelarche) occurs before menstrual onset (menarche).Error! Hyperlink reference not valid.
The breast growth sometimes is not constant and comes in "growth spurts". At times, women may have minimal or no breast growth and then experience a growth spurt where the breasts grow very rapidly in a short space of time. These growth spurts cause great physical discomfort, the main symptoms being red, itchy skin and sometimes a general ache in the breasts. But in puberty the breasts can also continuously grow at an even pace for the space of several years. This process can overdevelop a completely normal and healthy breast, sometimes to gigantic extents.
With VBH, enlargement of the nipples usually also occurs, and the nipples can grow to an enormous size. In very severe cases of VBH, hypertrophy of the clitoris can also occur.

The rest of the class gathered around and watched me like I was performing brain surgery. Mean Girls 3026 Part 9 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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I set up a meeting with some of my teachers to try to get a better ideas of what they were looking for, with the year long project assignment. What I found out was, it was an open project that had to cover what was learned in at least one class we were taking. Of course the gears in my mind started grinding as I thought an old school pro-modified drag car would be right up their alley, since I doubt any of them had ever seen one before. So I got to work on getting my hands on a set of chassis designs from back in the day to use as a starting point.

I’d built my fair share of cars before, and I knew I needed a kick ass chassis before I even started to plan anything else. Come to find out, one of the chassis shops I’d worked in for a while before my accident, still had their web site up and they still had a copy of the blueprints there for the taking. I put in a call to one of my nostalgia motorsports teacher and asked him if we had the right size of tubing for me to use. Come to find out, he had just received a new shipment and once I told him my project he was more then happy to set it aside for me to use.

Next thing I did, was look online for anyone who made replicas of the old bodies used back in the day. As luck would have it, there was a guy still making a handful of the old pro-mod style bodies and I saw on his site, that he had my personal favorite, the 1970 Plymouth Duster. I checked the clock and once I saw that he should still be open I placed the call and didn’t hesitate to put it all on my debit card. The only funny part was when I asked him to ship it to the moon. There was a long pause before he told me it would arrive on the next freighter. I was giddy with excitement once I hung up with him. I’d always had plans on how I’d build my own car if I was ever able to save up the money to do it. But here I was ACTUALLY getting the chance to build my car, my way.

Over dinner that night, Grace and I talked about how our day was and she got as excited as I got when I told her what I was doing for my project. It was cool to know that this beautiful young woman sitting across from me at dinner was just as much of a gear head as I am. But the excitement soon faded, when she came to the realization that she had no idea what she would do for HER project. So I started brain storming.

“You want to build one too, and we could race them against each other?” I asked her.

“Not really. I mean I’d love to drive one of those old school rides. They look wild when they showed us the video of them in class. But I don’t think I have the skill to do all the fabrication that’ll be needed to get one of those things running by the end of the school year.”

“Alright, how about something a bit simpler,” I asked?

“Simpler would help.” she said with a giggle.

“Motorcycle,” I said holding a finger in the air.

“You have my attention.” she told me with a nod and a smile.

“I’m building a drag car, how about if you built a drag bike.”

“Why, I could buy one at the dealer ready to go?” she asked looking puzzled.

“Not one of those new high-tech jobs.” I said grinning. “Old school, Stripped down; no frills, all out raw power, old school pro-stock.”

“How ‘old school’ are we talking?” she asked me getting a bit nervous.

“Early twenty-first century,” I told her with a smile. “It’ll be a simple design. All tube rigid chassis, with a beefy v-twin sitting between the frame rails. The most difficult part will be making the chassis. I’ll bet we can find a motor ready, or almost ready to go. Then all you’d have to do is work on the plumbing of the bike, and fab up some body work for it.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard. As long as you’ll help me.” she said with a smile, leaning across the table.

It was then that I noticed she was showing a bit more cleavage then she had been in week’s past. I really didn’t thing anything of it, since most girls our age usually gain a couple of cup sizes between the ages of fifteen and nineteen. I tried to put it out of my mind, but she kept fiddling with her shirt, which kept drawing my attention back to her budding chest.

After dinner we both relaxed in front of the tv, and cuddled as I found a copy of both of my favorite movies from back in the day. So Grace finally got the chance to see Easy Rider, and Bullitt. We had to go back a couple of times when I pointed out to her about the green VW bug that appears ten times in the chase scene in Bullitt. She only found it eight until I pointed them out to her as we went, and finally she saw that same bug. I then told her that the chase scene had been spoofed over the years in numerous movies, and in TV, and cartoon shows. We spent the night in her bed since we’d decided to rotate whose bed we spent the night in so one didn’t get worn out faster then the other. It was pretty nice to have someone to cuddle with when going to sleep and I always did my best to make sure I didn’t wake her when I went for my morning jog.
Like I’d been doing since she gave it to me, I wore the rugby jersey Grace gave me for my jogs. I found it really helped cut down on the number of guys who’d make snide comments toward me, and it also helped hide my bouncing 34 double G cup breasts. However, the other thing I noticed with myself was as I became more comfortable with my new body, my style of dressing started to get a bit more daring. Take for instance the shirt I bought that first weekend on the moon. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal crew neck tank top. Compare that to the tube top and new t-shirts I just bought last weekend. That’s right, I said tube top. And the t-shirts, all have a v-neck in them. It’s kind of fun to show off that much cleavage, considering that the taper of the neck comes down to the middle of my breasts. With the right bra, I can show just about the entire length of my titty crack, and it’s become fun to drive the boys wild with it. Granted, I still am a bit put off by not many guys looking me in the eyes when they talk to me, but then again, if I was in their shoes, I’d probably find it hard to not look myself.

When I finished my run I was surprised to find Grace already awake and in the shower. My devilish mind told me that it would be fun to shower with her, since we’d not seen each other fully naked yet. So I snuck into the bathroom and careful to not make a noise stripped off my clothes. I really had no idea what her body looked like since we usually make out with the lights off, and I’d only seen her in her shirts which I’d noticed had been getting a bit tighter as the weeks at school went on. When I pulled back the shower curtain I had pretty much the same reaction Samantha did that day she saw me in the infirmary. My jaw dropped and I could feel my eyes bug out, as I gazed at Grace’s naked body for the first time. She stood there frozen in place too, as the hot water ran down her body, forming a river between the breasts that I was now sure of had been growing. When we had gone dress shopping she was measured as a C cup, but now her breasts looked at least to be double D’s.

“Holy shit you just gave me a heart attack!” she said trying to cover her chest with one of her arms.

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be fun to shower together.” she said as I watched her nipples poke through her fingers as she took a look at my slim and stacked body.

She didn’t say a word; she just reached out and pulled me by the back of the head into the water, and started kissing me while she soaped up my naked body. The feeling of her washing my sweaty body was enough to cause me to have a couple of mini climaxes. Once she finished washing me, it was my turn to return the favor. I really don’t have to tell you that I did just as thorough a job washing her as she did on me. By the time we were done kissing and washing, my alarm went off, signaling that we had a half hour to finish getting ready for school.

It didn’t take very long to get dried and dressed. Once I made myself presentable to the world, I joined Grace at the table and we sat for a couple of minutes while we both inhaled a bowl of cereal.

“So how long have your breasts been growing?” I asked her between mouth full’s of food.

“You noticed?” she asked me surprised.

“How could I not?” I said with a grin. “It looks good on you.”

“Well incase you didn’t notice in the shower, my entire body is getting a bit bigger.”

“Get off the crap.” I said raising an eyebrow. “You aren’t getting fat. And whoever told you, you are is full of crap too.”

“I’m serious. I had to buy new jeans this past weekend. And I’m up to a size five from a size two.”

“Alright, that probably just means that your hips are getting wider. But like I said,” I told her again with a smile, “it looks damn good on you. I wish I had your butt.”

“You have a cute butt.”

“Yeah, but mine doesn’t fill out a pair of jeans as sexy as yours does.”

“Keep that up and we’ll be skipping class today.”

“No we won’t.” I told her. “Our project ideas are due today.”

We packed up and headed to class, after putting the dishes in the washer. Once there, I showed Grace some web sites to grab some pictures from to help show the teacher what her project was going to be. While she quickly wrote an outline of what she was going to be doing, I presented my idea to the class.

What I was planning on doing, was build a nostalgia pro-modified drag car, like what would have been raced in the early twenty-first century, from scratch. The body I chose for the project was going to be a 1970 Plymouth Duster, and the paint would be inspired by the Sox & Martin racing team from the 1960's. I had located a company that still produced the right engine block for the project, and the other parts I could either make myself, or find on one of the used parts web sites. The instructor was impressed at the idea I was going with. As I went back to my seat I found that the other students were going to simply be modifying production cars.

Grace impressed the instructor as much as I did, since he is a fan of the old school. He and I joke that we were born a thousand years too late, all the time; if he only knew. So the projects were set, and for the better part of the next couple of months, it would be assholes and elbows as the class thrashed to get the projects done on time.

The first thing I did was make a jig to help Grace build her frame. That really only took a couple of hours, since the school had everything needed, and by the end of the day, we had almost a complete frame for her bike. The only parts missing were a neck and rear axle supports. But those would be coming in with my body on the next freighter so no worries, and I got her busy helping me bend up some tubing to use as frame rails for my project.

To watch the rest of the students, watch the two of us work with nothing but raw metal, you’d have thought we were doing some sort of human sacrifice. I mean, come on, this is how it was done back in the day. There weren’t any robots building race chassis. It was a couple of guys cutting and bending tubing, then welding it all together. That was another thing. These kids had never seen anyone TIG weld before. Granted it was an art form in my time, but it seems to be a lost art these days. Everyone depends on robots to weld everything. I couldn’t help but laugh under my welding helmet as I got the bottom rails tacked together and the main roll bar hoop in place. I’d wait until my body arrived until I finished the welds, incase I needed to move anything.

Work pretty much stalled on both our projects for the next couple of days, since our parts weren’t due I until the end of the week. Once our parts arrived, it was like Christmas day in the shop. There was the big crate that held my body, and doors. Then there were both crates that held her v-twin that I found on line, and my block. I had to order the internals from another distributor, since the one who sold me the block, was selling me their LAST block ever made. So with all the boxes containing the rest of my engine, we took up the vast majority of our instructor’s office. Not that he minded, but it was still cramped in there. I had to start laughing when one of the other students asked me how my engine block was going to power my car when it was done.

“The block by itself, won’t do anything. That is what all those other smaller boxes are for.”

“So the engine is in one of those?” he asked scratching his head.

“Have you been paying attention to ANYTHING the instructor has been saying?” I asked shaking my head in disgust.

“Uh.” was his only replay with a look of confusion on his face.

“Look, just stay out of my parts, and watch a master at work.” I told him as I got to work assembling my engine.

The rest of the class gathered around and watched me like I was performing brain surgery. It was quite comical to look at their faces while I pieced my big block 526 cubic inch Hemi together. It only took me about a day to build, and once I was done, I primed the dry sump oil pump and touched off the engine with its open zoomie headers barking away. It was music to my, and the instructors ears to hear that beast fire off. Granted, I did have to play with the fuel injection a bit, but it fired and revved up nice, when I goosed the butterflies on the injector hat.

Once I shut it down, I pulled the plugs back out and set them in the tray I’d made to examine them between runs to find out what I’d have to change for the fuel injection. One of my dumbass classmates took it upon himself to grab right a hold of one of the still piping hot plugs that I’d just placed in the tray, while I was pulling another. It wasn’t until I heard him curse followed by the plug hitting the floor that I realized what had happened.

“Alright, that was rule number one.” I said looking around to the entire class. “NEVER touch anything that comes out of an engine that has just been shut off with your bare hands.” I said as I held up my gloved hand. “And while we’re at it. Rule number two.” I said as I picked up the plug and put it back in the tray. “NEVER, EVER touch my stuff. You guys don’t know what half this shit is, let alone DOES. So don’t touch ANYTHING without asking me first.” I told them as I threw a blanket over the engine and wheeled it into the instructor’s office for safe keeping.

I came back and Grace and I set the body over top of the frame I’d built and once again, my classmates, looked at it like a monkey trying to read a map. I found that I had guessed right in the placement of the roll hoop and could go ahead and finish weld it in place. Most of the rest of the tubing would have to go in, to fit around the body, so I’d have to get that mounted after I had the hoop secure. We left the body sitting on the frame for the night and I helped Grace finish her bike frame.

What I didn’t tell her, was that I’d ordered her a fork assembly that was already built, so all she’d have to do was bolt it on and voila, instant bike. In under an hour we had her frame finished and sitting on the wheels she’s ordered so the instructor could see that she was making some quick progress. The rest of the class was all but drooling, looking at what she had built. Wait until they see it with the engine in it. I made Grace hold off, since I wanted it to be a surprise to her what I’d been able to find; a reproduction of the same engine S&S Engines built for racing back in my day. Ready to rock and roll. All she had to do was run the wires to the ignition, and hook up the fuel line. This thing is going to be a bad bike when she gets it done. And I told her that over dinner.

“I’ll bet you go low sevens at almost two hundred when that thing is done.” I said between bites.

“You mean it’ll go that fast in only a quarter mile?” she asked me shocked.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?”

“No, I assumed it would maybe go one twenty, or so, but not two hundred.”

“You know, there’s something I’ve never asked you before.”

“What’s that Amy?”

“Have you ever driven a bike before?”

“I’ve never driven ANYTHING before. Why?” she asked looking confused.

“Oh boy, we need to get you seat time, or you’re going to get hurt on that thing.”

I had her come with me as I went online and started searching for something she could learn to ride on. I found an older lower power bike on one of the used car sites, and had the dealer who had it send it to us. Grace was going to go through a crash course in riding, so she wouldn’t crash when the time came to present our projects.

Then next day, we made a stop at one of the leather shops and got her fitted up for a set of riding gear. I insisted on a pair of pants with padding in the seat and legs, and a jacket that had a hard yet flexible shell across her spine. I have to admit, that even back in the day, the sight of a woman in a set of leathers was enough by itself to get my motor running. But, here was Grace, the girl with the sweet innocent face, but had the body of a goddess; all leathered out and her breasts causing the chest of the jacket to strain. OH BOY! I picked up some leathers for myself while we were there, and I could tell I was having a similar effect on Grace that seeing her in them had on me. Once we were both suited up, we headed to the shoe store, and I helped her make a wise selection for riding boots, and then it was off to the motorcycle shop, and we found helmets. Before you even ask, YES there was a motorcycle shop on the moon. Granted, they only sold alcohol burning or electric bikes, but they are still motorcycles, and that’s good enough for me. The only issue came when Grace insisted on getting a beanie helmet.

“Alright, let me ask you this.” I said holding a beanie in one hand and a full face in the other. “Would you rather look cool?” I asked holding up the beanie. “Or would you rather be safe, just in case something goes wrong?” I asked holding up the full face helmet.

“Can’t I do both?”

“Sure, we can paint the full face.” I said with a giggle.

“Alright, I see where this is going. You aren’t going to let me leave this store with that little helmet are you?”

“Look, I’m only doing this to help you be safe. That is as safe as you can be on a bike like that.”

“I know.” she told me with a kiss on the cheek. Then as she looked at the helmet wall, she saw a pre-painted full face helmet she loved. I had to laugh, because it was pained like one of the riders from back in my day had his done up.

We ended up buying two helmets there, the pained one for her, and a plain black one for me. Something about a black helmet, with black leathers, and black riding boots, just has a feel about it all its own; especially, when the helmet has a dark smoked shield on it. It’s an aura of danger. ‘Who is that?’ It’s something I did back in the day, and I guess old habits die hard.

TO BE CONTINUED...

“Wait a minute. You’re the girl who got my angel kicked out of school.” he asked. “No, I’m the girl who your spawn of satan tried to use as a punching bag every chance she got.” I said crossing my arms. “She got herself kicked out of school.”" Mean Girls 3026 Part 10 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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Work progressed pretty well on both our projects. I gave Grace a quick lesson on how to use some of the old school metal working tools, and she picked up on the technique pretty quicky. I’d only had a chance to use the English Wheel a couple of times back when I worked for a couple of the fabricators, but I used to be the type that all you had to do was show me once and I could muddle through. With practice I’d always get better, but all it took was one time. Lucky for me, that Grace was the same way. It was also a good thing that I’d done some of this stuff before, since the instructor wasn’t really all that competent on the wheel, or on the power hammer.

While grace was inching toward getting her bike closer to starting paint prep, I was all but done with the chassis of my pro-mod. By the time we broke for Christmas recess, Grace was ready to shoot her newly made tins, while I had my chassis as a complete roller, and only had the fuel plumbing, and wiring left, before I could do my paint. Which I thought would be a good place to pick up after break.

I met mom and dad at the airport, and made sure I had on a bulky sweater, and coat when I arrived in the bitter cold of a Central New York December. Both of them asked me a hundred questions as we drove from the airport to the house, and apparently Samantha had neglected to tell them about how much I’d grown in the past semester. I found this out when I took off my coat and sweater once we arrived to the warm house I’d grown up in.

Both of them looked at me like deer in the headlights. It was quite comical to watch their eyes follow me as the rest of both their bodies seemed frozen. Finally I sat down causing my shirt to ride up a bit and show the belly button dangle I had done the same day Grace had her’s done. Which coincidentally, was the same day I got my tongue pierced too. The girl at the tattoo parlor told us that she wouldn’t do our nipples until we each turned eighteen. So that was a bit of a bummer, but oh well. Once Amanda saw the dangle, she walked over to me and touched it, which made me shiver and giggle.

“Hey, come on, stop. That tickles.” I told her

“When did you do that?” she asked awestruck.

“Around Halloween. Grace, Samantha and I all went as Nurses, and the costumes Grace and I had on, had open bellies. So we thought it would look cool.”

“They grow up so fast.” Mark piped in.

“What? You never complained when I got mine done.” she told him and winked at me.

“But that’s our little girl.” he said complaining.

“And I always will be.” I said kissing him on the cheek.

“It looks like we’re going to have to take everything we got you for Christmas, clothing wise, back.”

“Why’s that daddy?” I asked sitting back down.

“Because Sammy, didn’t tell us you grew THIS much.” Amanda told me.

“Oh. You aren’t mad are you?” I asked.

“Just concerned.” she told me.

“Well, other then having to take extra care when I go for my runs, it really isn’t that bad. I mean if you don’t count the fact that every guy in the school seems to think that my eyes are located near my nipples.” I said with a giggle.

“You get used to it.” mom told me as she shot dad a coy grin, causing him to blush.

All and all the holiday went pretty smooth. We did end up taking all the shirts they bought me back for larger sizes, but the bottoms fit perfect. Amanda and I still went for our morning run, and Mark found out that I could handle a snowmobile better than he could, when we all went out for a ride on New Years Eve day. It was nice to blast down the trails that hadn’t changed in all these years. The only issue I had was that every bump I hit, caused my chest to bounce, and by the end of the day, I was a bit sore. We ended up going to one of their friend’s houses for a party, and I ended up with the keys to the car, since I knew how to drive, and they both couldn’t choose between them who would be the DD.

Have I mentioned that I hate surprises? Have I mentioned that I REALLY hate surprises? I do. I hate them with a passion. If murder were legal, I’d shoot everyone who ever sprung a surprise on me. This list includes Mark and Amanda. The one piece of information they failed to let me in on before we got to the party, where it would be. So here I am dressed in a grey pleated dress that, like everything else I wear, shows off a good amount of cleavage. It’s the dead of winter, and we only took one car between the three of us, since I was supposed to drive them home.

Mark rang the doorbell, and who should come to the door, but the same girl who is solely responsible for my chest ballooning from a 32 B cup at the start of the school year, to it’s now voluptuous 34 GG. That’s right, Angela. She took one look at me standing there and slammed the door in our faces. Mark rang the bell again, and this time, his friend, Angela’s father came to the door, and he explained to Mark and Amanda that there was a slight problem with his daughter.

“Damn right there’s a problem with her. She laced my food with bovine growth hormones.” I said with a bit of anger in my voice.

“Wait a minute. You’re the girl who got my angel kicked out of school.” he asked me.

“No, I’m the girl who your spawn of satan tried to use as a punching bag every chance she got.” I said crossing my arms. “She got herself kicked out of school.”

“Mark, I’m sorry, but you and Mandy can stay.” he told dad with a sigh. “But this little tramp has to leave.”

“Bob, we’ve known each other since kindergarten. You should know me better then to think I’d stay at a party, where up until a minute ago, my daughter was welcome to come to, only to have you choose to send her home, because YOUR brat tried to poison my baby.” dad told him shaking his head. “Give me a call when you get your head clear. We’re leaving.”

And it was just that quick. Granted I started to cry when we got in the car. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. But this time it was because I was afraid I’d ruined a friendship for the man who gave me his daughter’s body.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was Bob’s kid that did this to you?” Mark asked me.

“I didn’t know who she was.” I said sobbing. “All I knew her by was Angela.”

“Oh crap, that’s right, you don’t remember growing up and playing with her and her older sisters as a kid.” Mark told me, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot about that.”

“It’s alright daddy. I just hope things aren’t ruined between you and Mr. Johnson.” I told him as I started to tear up from the frustration I was feeling.

“Bob will come to his senses. He knows how much a bitch his daughter can be.” he let out a chuckle. “After all, she takes after her mother.”

"I thought she was In jail anyway." I told Mark.

"She's out on a plee deal." he told me. "She has to do community service."

For the next couple of days I spent some quality time with Amanda. That is to say, she and I pretty much worked out together most of the day. More than anything though, I wanted to get back to school to finish my project; I mean, come on, how cool would it be to actually race that thing, and have my crew use my ‘68 Cuda for the chase vehicle? However in the mean time, I’d bought a couple of bikes online and mom helped me do some custom paint work on the tanks.

A couple of days before I had to go back to school, I ended up talking mom into going to a shop a friend of her’s owns, a couple of towns over, to get some things I thought Grace would like. That is to say, some things for me, I thought Grace would like to see me in if you catch my drift. We ended up leaving ‘Fantasy Fashions’ with well over $1000 each in sexy clothes and shoes to wear. I finally let mom in on how much money I had in my old account, and once the shock wore off and she finally caved in to letting me buy her some outfits, it became a fun experience to shop for those kinds of things.

Once back at school, it was assholes and elbows as Grace and I pounded out the hours in the shop to get our projects done on time. Since the instructor had never used the paints we both had chosen to use on our new rides, it was up to me to show Grace how to do it properly. Over dinner one night, she informed me just how much she hated using body filler to smooth out her tins.

“I’ve washed my hair like six times and I can still feel the dust in it.” she said between bites.

“I wish I could say you get used to it, but it’s something most body guys never really like doing.”

“Then why is it used?” she asked me point blank.

“Well it’s easier to use than the other way.”

“What’s that?”

“Well on metal work, you can use lead to smooth out the imperfections. But that smells awful, it takes longer to do, and it’s harder to do the right way. And besides, it’s easier for me to show you with body filler, since I can’t use lead on my fiberglass body.”

“Ah, so lead is more old school than what I’m doing?”

“Pretty much,” I told her, and had to giggle a bit. “Lead was considered old school back in my day. It was pretty much a lost art back then.”

“Yeah, we already get enough funny looks from the others in class. We don’t want to completely blow their minds.”

“Oh, their minds will be blown alright. Just wait until they see our rides in action.” I told her with a grin.

“Good point.”

After dinner I showed her the belated Christmas gift I had for her. And like I thought she’d be, she was giddy with anticipation of getting to use it. NO! I’m not talking about the sexy clothes I bought. I’m talking about the two big twin motorcycles I picked up. I found an auction site online and someone had two mint condition Harley ‘Wide Glides.’ Since Grace had passed her motorcycle driver’s test before break, I thought it would be fun to use the bikes to get back and forth from the dorms to the shop.

She simply loved the paint I did on the bike for her. It was pretty cool that she’d be riding on something that sweet to get back and forth to class. She couldn’t wait to take them out for a spin, so we both went to put on our leathers, and we’d take them out. However, she ran into a little snag once she tried to put her’s on. Apparently her breasts had done a bit of growing over break, and she couldn’t get the zipper all the way up. She came into my room to show me, and I about creamed myself from just looking at the vast amount of cleavage bulging from the top of her jacket.

“This sucks!” she exclaimed, struggling with the zipper.

“Actually it’s pretty cool.” I said with a grin.

“I can’t ride like this!” she said back pouting.

“Alright, I’ll get you a new jacket. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I ran down to my bike and I could see her watching from the window as I warmed it up, and took off to the bike shop. I had the sales woman in the clothing section look up what size we’d gotten Grace last time, and it’s a good thing they had one a couple sizes up from that. Once I had the new jacket back at the apartment, Grace WAS able to get it zipped, but we both hoped she didn’t grow much more, since her breasts were already straining the leather, causing it to creak if she took too deep a breath. I have to admit though, it was DAMN hot to watch her move in that outfit. Even her ass made the leather look perfect.

We ended up taking the bikes to the other side of the campus to Samantha’s place and she was at the door when we finally parked in front of her place. Apparently, she likes the sound of a large v-twin with open pipes, and once she heard us coming, she was all grins. She had us wait outside, as she went back in the house for a couple of minutes, and when she finally emerged, she too was dressed in a tight black leather pair of paints. The jacket she had on, pretty much resembled the one Grace had on, from the stressed leather across her chest. What really got to me though was when she opened her garage, and showed us the chopper she had sitting there. She fired it up and once her bike had warmed up, and she had her helmet on, we all took a ride around the station.

Now as you can imagine, the site of a woman, dressed in tight black leather, and piloting a motorcycle with a loud v-twin, is enough to cause most men to pitch some wood. But here were three of us, all doing that. I could tell from the looks we were getting from some of the guys we rode past, that either they did, or almost creamed themselves. It felt good for me to get back in the wind after all this time. Once we all fell into a rhythm, I started letting the road come to me. It was as if I’d never stopped riding a motorcycle.

The next day, the reaction Grace and I got when we pulled up to the shop to work on our projects was pretty much like it had been the night before with Samantha. Every guy in our class about jumped out of his skin when they saw us pull up on our bikes. Needless to say, most of the class didn’t get much work done that day, from constantly looking at either Grace, or me in our leather pants, and boots.

For our part, we did finish the paint prep on her tins and my body. We were even able to lay down the base coats on each. I still hadn’t found out how Grace was going to paint her bike, but she as invaluable, helping me lay out the stripes on my car. She told me once we broke for the night, that she wasn’t going to let me see her paint until it was time to take the projects out for testing. I can’t help but wonder what she has up her sleeve.

TO BE CONTINUED...

They didn’t have any questions, since I’d practiced my presentation, and went over everything like I was at an auto show and trying to sell the car. Once they left me, I went back to the weather station and chose to make a last minute adjustment to my clutch. Mean Girls 3026 Part 11 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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It’s dawned on me that I haven’t really talked that much about my social life, or lack there of as the case were. It seems that since word spread that Angela, the life of every party, was kicked out of school because of me, or rather I was blamed by her friends for it, that not a single party invitation came to our door. Not that I mind, since I did my share of partying back in college. But I feel bad for Grace who is guilty by association. The thing that really bothers me, is that she doesn’t mind either. The reason I myself do not mind not going out every night and being a social butterfly is that I just managed to squeak by in college from all the partying. I always said that if I had a chance to do it all over again, I would knuckle down and work my ass off for good grades.

Like I said though, it worries me, that everyone looks at Grace, like she is just as much at fault for Angela leaving as they do me. What these kids don’t get, is that she brought it upon herself. There have been a couple of times that Grace was asked to a party by some of the guys in our classes. The only thing is, that when she asked if I could come with her, they always answered no, so her, being the good friend she is, declined the invite. It does make me feel good that someone as nice as her exists in this world and more over, she chooses to spend time with me over being with our peers.

Life can get pretty dull around our apartment. This is the leading factor in my buying the bikes. I’ve found over the years that a good ride on a motorcycle can help relieve the stress a rough day can cause. Grace has found this out as well. While I usually ride back to the apartment right after I leave the shop, she usually doesn’t get home for at least another hour or so. And the miles on her bike show it. I mean, I knew she was a gear head when we met, but I never would have pegged this cute ‘girl next door’ for a biker. And trust me, that is what she is. She just loves the wind in her face. Much to my chagrin, she ended up buying a half helmet. It is a DOT approved one, but it still offers nothing in the way of protection to her face.

Since I was fifteen years old, back in the day, I’ve never gone more then a month without a job. I guess this is why I have been pouring myself into my school work. It helps pass the time. I’ve always been the type of person that HATES not having something to do. I spent last summer suffering at home, and vowed not to do that again. I did enjoy the time I got to spend with mom, but I found that I would spend the majority of my day in the garage, working on my Cuda. Since it’s already done, this summer I’d either have to find a new project, or go crazy. I also found in talking with Grace, that she’s been going through the same thing. So I started looking around at different racing teams for a summer internship.

As luck would have it, I scored one with one of the teams that runs a nostalgia pro-mod. After a quick call to the team owner, and explaining my project to him, I ended up inviting him to the test session the school had set up for our projects. He seemed interested in an eighteen year old girl building a pro-mod from scratch. I also couldn’t help but mention that I was getting a great deal of help from my roommate. He agreed to come to the test session, and see what we both have been able to build, and he’d talk with us about the possibility of going on the road with the team this coming summer.

Both Grace’s bike and my car, were out of paint by mid semester. This gave both of us time to use the track at the school to dial in our rides. And trust me, we did a LOT of testing. I wanted to make sure we were both ready when Mr. Lang came to watch our passes as they set up a competition with the entire class. I knew some of the other students were going to be modifying street cars, and since Grace and I had built purpose built race cars, the pressure would be on us. As it turned out, the hand porting I did on my cylinder heads gave me more power then I’d seen back in the day. I’d always had an idea about what to do with a set of heads to get the most out of them, but I never had a chance to prove my theory then. Now that I did, I was going to make the most of the chance and was running numbers out of the box that were in the ball park of making the field at any nostalgia pro mod race.

The day finally came. Grace and I met Mr. Lang, or Kenny as he told us to call him at the airport. He was about my height and around the same build, so I started thinking that after I proved to him that my car was as good as anything else out there, I’d offer him a chance to make a pass or two. He picked up his rental car, and he followed the two of us on our bikes to the shop, where we gave him a quick tour.

“And these are the projects the two of us have been working on.” I told him as I pulled the cover off my Sox & Martin inspired car, and Grace pulled the cover off her Screamin’ Eagle inspired bike. He looked them over with the eye of a man who’s done this a long time, and when I saw him smile, I knew we both were impressing him with the quality of the fit and finish of the projects.

“So what shop built your frame?” he asked me. “The placement of the tubes, looks like an old G-Force chassis.”

“Well, truth be told, I downloaded a copy of G-Force’s blueprints, and built it myself.” I said beaming with pride.

“Yeah right.” he laughed. “Come on, where did you find this chassis.”

“I just told you.” I said looking concerned that he didn’t believe me. “Here, look.” I told him as I pulled out my photo album of the entire build.

He was awestruck as he looked at picture after picture of my frame taking shape. Mr. Peterson, our instructor, even snapped off a couple of pictures of me bending the tubing myself. What really impressed Kenny though were the shots Mr. Peterson took of me, the day I built my engine. This caused him to ask me if he could take a look for himself. I had Grace help me pull the front clip off the body, and he just nodded as he closely inspected my work.

“This looks like an old Billis engine.” he said looking at what I’d done with the bare block I’d purchased.

“Actually the block is from World, and the blower is one of Billis’” I told him. “They are the only ones still making a blower for this engine.”

“Yeah, I know.” he said with a sigh. “Damn shame too. But kids want to go faster then these dinosaurs will allow now a days.”

“And what am I chop liver?” I asked him with a giggle.

“No, you are both FAR from that.” he said with a smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you girls were born a thousand or so years too late.” If he only knew.

After giving our projects the once over, we took him to meet Samantha for dinner. I had to force myself to not giggle when his eyes bugged out of his head, upon laying eyes on the ravishing head mistress of the school. Over dinner, we talked about the school and Samantha made sure to mention to him every chance she got, that Grace and I were her brightest students. Samantha took him back to her place and put him up in one of her guest rooms for the night, since our senior class shoot out wouldn’t be until the following day. This gave her an opportunity to show Kenny a copy of my project from last year. Again he was impressed that I was able to show such a vast cross section of the evolution of drag racing. Samantha called me right after he turned in for the night, to let me know that he was very impressed by what he’d seen so far, and if our projects turned out half way decent tomorrow, we’d be shoe in’s for summer internships.

Both Grace and I got up early to get to the shop the next morning. We both wanted to make sure everything was ready to go with both our rides. We’d been at it for a couple of hours when the first members of the rest of the class started to trickle in. Mr. Peterson had arrived around the same time Grace and I had, but left shortly after, so he could do some track preparation. It was organized chaos around the shop as everyone was scrambling to make last minute adjustments to their projects. Grace and I on the other hand were simply going over the weather data for the day, to try to set up a game plan on tuneups.

Once at the track I went with what I considered a safe fuel setup, and went a bit soft on the clutch since I didn’t want to blow the tires loose on the first pass. I had just finished walking the track to check the racing groove, when Mr. Peterson started his driver’s meeting.

“Alright, this is going to be a round robin format.” he explained. “Each driver will race everyone else once. The two drivers with the highest win numbers will be in the finals. I can not stress enough that you are being graded on BOTH your on track performance and the fit and finish of your project.” he said, then directing our attention to Kenny. “Mr. Lang from Lang racing is with us today, and he, along with Ms. Hagar, and myself will be judging the concourse portion of the event. Each builder please report to your project and we’ll begin judging.”

Everyone stood nervously by their project, while the judges made their way down the line. Grace and I were near the end, so I was checking the portable weather station to double check my setup. I was so engrossed in my last minute work, that I never heard the judges arrive to my project.

“Are we interrupting anything Amy?” asked Samantha as she tapped me on the shoulder, causing me to jump from being startled a bit.

“Uh, no, I was just double checking the weather.” I told them confidently.

“So can you explain your project to us?” Mr. Peterson asked.

“Yes sir.” I started, as I placed my weather station on the seat. “This is a 1970 Fiberglass replica of a Plymouth Duster. The paint scheme I chose for this project, was inspired by one of the most dominant teams in drag racing history, Ronny Sox and Buddy Martin. The car is classified as a Pro Modified, as would have been seen back in the first part of the twenty-first century. It’s an all round tube chassis, that was designed by G-Force racing out of Tonawanda, New York. With help from my classmate Grace, I built the chassis from scratch.” I told them handing over my photo book from the build. “The engine is a World Industries Big Bore Hemi block. With Billis Racing cylinder heads that I ported and polished myself. BIR Crank, that was balanced with TRE rods and pistons. I went back to Billis for the blower, and the engine is backed by a Linco Transmission. A light weight aluminum drive shaft puts the power to a Curry rear end sitting on a G-Force designed four link rear suspension. Foose Racing wheels finish off the exterior look with a nod to the wheels used by Sox & Martin, wrapped in Goodyear rubber.” I let them look over the exterior of the car before letting Samantha sit in the driver’s seat so I could go over the interior. “A Bullit Racing seat sits within the funny car style roll cage, complete with the foam side padding on the cage to aid in case of severe tire shake. Looking forward, a complete compliment of Auto Meter gauges give me a full read as to what the car is doing. The hand brake is hooked up in redundancy with the foot brake pedal, and the clutch is hooked up to an MSD two step, to help get the car off the line at the right launch rpm.” I said allowing them to look over the inside of the car. “Are there any questions?”

They didn’t have any since I’d practiced my presentation, and went over everything like I was at an auto show and trying to sell the car. Once they left me, I went back to the weather station and chose to make a last minute adjustment to my clutch.

Mr. Peterson announced the first pairings and I got dressed in my fire suit to square off with one of the guys with a street car. I’d never seen one of the new cars run so I didn’t know what to expect, especially when it was announced that it would be a heads up race. If this was back in the day, I’d have been licking my chops at knowing I’d have an easy win, but here, I didn’t know what the other kid had, and we were the first pair up.

I fired my car, with its deafening roar and did my burnout like I’d been practicing. Once I finished, my opponent and I staged our cars. I jammed my foot down on my clutch and planted my accelerator to the floor, causing my two-step to kick in and then waited for the starting signal. Since we were running on what’s called a ‘pro tree,” it means that the three amber colored lights on the tree come on all at the same time, .400 seconds before the green light comes on. Apparently my opponent didn’t know this, and I was already past the sixty foot timing light, by the time he left the starting line. My run went smooth, although I did think I was a bit too soft on the clutch. I pulled my parachutes and I shut it down, allowing the car to coast to the turnoff, leading to the return lane. I’d already set it up with Samantha to have her use her car to pull me back to the pits, since these cars don’t really like to drive anything but really fast in a straight line for short distances. I was already out of my car, when I heard my opponent’s car’s engine cracking and not running right at all finally make it to the finish line. I just stood there shaking my head as I picked up my chutes and hooked up the tow rope to get back to the pits.

On the way back, I did get to see Grace make her run, and like I had, she obliterated her opponent. This made me feel good, since I knew my car was faster than her bike, if she was able to win that easy, then this might bode well for the two of us.

A quick look at my time slip showed me I was right in thinking I was a bit soft on my clutch setup. I kept watching the weather, and adjusting on my car each run, continuing to roll over the rest of the field, until Mr. Peterson announced that Grace and I, were going to meet up in the finals. Since we’d both gone undefeated, we only had each other left to race.. We both did our rituals like we’d been practicing all day, and the weather conditions were perfect. The sun was setting, and the track was nice and cool. So it was going to be perfect to crank of the best runs of the day.

Once the dust had settled, I did beat her, but that was to be expected, since I had four times as much power in my car as she did in her bike. That being said, she did post a time that would have put her bike, with it’s ancient technology safely in the field of a modern day race. I on the other hand, had put up a time in my previous run that was equal to the world record, so I tried to go after it in the finals, since it would be my last shot at bettering it. And I did.

Once we had the projects back at the starting line, Mr. Peterson announced that Grace and I would both be receiving A’s on our projects. He went through and told of the rest of the grades, before he turned things over to Mr. Lang.

“It’s refreshing to see the future of our sport is in such capable hands.” he started. “I’d like to announce that Miss Mangano, and Miss Smith are being offered internships with Lang racing for this summer.” he announced to the class as he turned to us. “You both will be working hand in hand, in our shop with our fabricators, and tuners, then traveling to the track for the races. I’d also like to ask if you’d be willing to race for us Amy? With your car running under the Team Lang banner.”

“Does this mean I have to paint my car green to match that Corvette you guys already run?” I asked with a giggle.

“No, but we will ask that you put our team logo on the quarter panel.” he said with a grin. “I’ve noticed it’s a bit bare back there.”

“I will on one condition.”

“What’s that?” he asked me curiously.

“Grace and Samantha both have to be on my team.” I said looking at the two of them standing next to me.

Grace hugged me tight and Samantha just stood there smiling since she had shown me in her garage that she does know how to work on her own bike. Kenny nodded and shook my hand in agreement, then welcomed all three of us to the team. I nodded to my partners in crime, all three of us ladies opened our jackets and showed him the shirts I had made up for the race, that read ‘You've been blown away by a fast GIRL racer!’ causing him to laugh.

TO BE CONTINUED...

“You know damn well what I’m talking about young lady!” he told me as he turned scowling at me. “Or should I say young man?” Mean Girls 3026 Part 12 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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Graduation came quickly following that day we tested our projects. Ms. Hagar announced to the graduates and our families that she was pleased at the effort and time this years motorsports engineering students took on our finals. I won’t bore you with the rest of the ceremony, since it was much like you’d find at any school around the world. We all stood, one at a time and walked across the stage to get our diplomas, but it was when Grace and I took our turns that Ms. Hagar gave both of us a surprise that almost caused me to twist my ankle in the heels I had on.

“Amy Smith.” she announced as I started to walk across the stage. “Amy will be joining Lang Motorsports upon graduation as both one of their lead fabricators and driver of the very car she built for her senior project.”

I hadn’t yet told Mark and Amanda that I would be moving to Canada to work for the team, and was hoping I’d be the one to break the news to them. I watched as Grace had the same reaction as I did upon hearing that she’d be a lead fabricator at Lang also and they were going to have her campaign her motorcycle right along with my car.

After we did the traditional tossing of the caps in the air, I quickly retrieved mine and went to go find mom and dad. I found them standing outside the auditorium, and both of them met me with hugs and kisses, like any loving parents would do.

“We’re so proud of you Amy.” mom told me as she about hugged the breath out of me.

“We both knew you’d be a good fit at this school honey.” dad said with a nice kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, well I figured that I’d get a job before I headed off to college.” I told them with a blush.

“I thought you said you didn’t need money?” mom asked as she pulled me in close to whisper.

“I don’t. I just hate sitting around not doing anything like a bump on a log.”

“So you gonna put in a good word for your old man when you get there?” dad asked me with a grin.

“That depends.” I said with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Oh, and what’s the condition?” he asked chuckling.

“Well, do you think you could work for your daughter? I mean I can be pretty demanding of my workers. Especially when my life is going to be in their hands.” I said with a giggle.

“If it’s your life in my hands, you better believe that I’d do everything I can to make sure my baby girl is safe.” he told me with a hug.

We left and went back to the apartment so I could get the rest of my things. Grace and I had decided that we’d meet up there, since the post ceremony crowd can get a little large and it’d be easier to find each other at the apartment. When I got there, I saw a man standing in the livingroom dressed in a Navy dress blue outfit. I walked up to him and introduced myself, since the times I’d gone to Grace’s house last summer, he was on deployment and I was only able to meet her mom.

“Admiral Mangano?” I asked as I walked up behind him. “I’m Amy, Grace’s roommate.” I told him as I held out my hand so I could offer it to shake. “Grace has told me a lot about you sir.”

“I see.” he said continuing to look out the window at the earth. “Has she told you that I do not approve, in the least, that you and she are dating?” he asked me as if he were scolding one of his midshipmen.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re asking sir.” I told him, trying to hide my shock at this.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about young lady!” he told me as he turned scowling at me. “Or should I say young man?” I couldn’t say a word back to him from the shock of being outed. “I know all about you Josh. And I don’t think its right that you parade yourself around as a young girl when you and I both know that you’re really a man in there.”

I’ve never felt so small and helpless as I did right then. Here I’d gone almost two years in this body, and Grace’s father was the first person I’d met that wasn’t accepting the fact that I was for all intense and purposes, an eighteen year old girl now.

“Sir, I understand your concern,” I said as I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, “but I assure you that Grace is my best friend and I would do nothing to harm her in any way. I never asked for ANY of this to happen, but it has, and there is nothing I can do to go back to being how I was before. If I had it my way, I’d never had been hit by that truck a thousand years ago. I’d never had been frozen, and I’d have been there when my mother and father died.” I said looking him in the eyes with the most contempt that I’d ever felt for any one person in my life. “That is what hurts more then anything sir, knowing that I’ve lost everyone who was close to me from that time. I came here with nothing. I didn’t have a single person in the world who I could call a friend. Your daughter accepted me for whom and what I am. I’m an eighteen year old girl with the mind of a thirty one, sorry its thirty three years old now, man.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is some days to have the memories of the ones you loved and know that you can never see them again? Or worse still, have someone treat you like they’ve known you your whole life and all you can remember is two years ago meeting them for the first time?” I asked as he stood there slack jawed at my confronting him. “No, I don’t imagine you can. You live in your perfect life. You order your sailors around and have them do whatever you tell them to. And you just go on living as if your shit doesn’t stink. Well guess what SIR!” I said to him with as much anger as I could come up with behind the hurt I was feeling. “Your shit makes me want to puke. If you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but know this. If I hear you’ve taken your dislike for me out on that sweet girl of yours or her mother, I will hunt you down and make you BEG me to end your sorry excuse for a life. No one deserves to be treated with disrespect, except those who disrespect others.” I told him as I poked him in the chest with my finger. “You understand me buster?”

“Y y y yes ma’Am.” he told me stuttering.

I stormed off to my room to help Mark and Mandy finish packing my things, and tried to calm down. Once I got to my bedroom, they could tell something was wrong, but I kept insisting they drop it. I just focused on my packing to make sure I took everything with me, so I wouldn’t have to come back to get it. I might have had more money than God, but I didn’t want to have to waste money on a trip to the moon when I could just as easily double check to make sure I retrieved everything now.

It was a few minutes later when I heard a commotion in the other room. Before mom or dad could react, I had my bat in my hand and was out my bedroom door. Something told me that it was Grace’s dad, and I knew that I was about to end the life I’d just been given. Well, the free part of it. If he laid one finger on Grace or Gwen, I’d wrap the bat in my hands around his fucking neck. When I got to Grace’s room I couldn’t help but drop the bat and double over laughing my ass off.

Apparently he had confronted Grace about me, and our relationship. He started to berate her about being a... how did he say it? Oh right. “No daughter of mine is going to be a God Damn faggot!” That’s when Mrs. Mangano kicked him square in the nuts with the pointed toe of her dress shoe. Now I don’t know how many of you reading this have ever had the chance to experience this kind of thing. However, next time you’re at a shoe store, look at a pair of women’s pumps, with a pointed toe, you know the ones, and take a close look at it. Then write me back and let me know if YOU’D ever want to be kicked in the sack with one of those. Oh, did I mention that Mrs. Mangano had started to work out with mom? Or the fact that she plays rugby in a women’s semi-pro league? Yeah, go with that thought.

“Oh shucks.” I said giggling “You guys didn’t let me have any of the fun.” which caused Grace to giggle as she saw the bat I had with me. “Did he touch you?” I asked as I became serious.

“No Amy, he didn’t lay a finger on me. He just yelled.” she said me hugging me. I hugged her back then grabbed my bat again and walked over to the admiral still lying on the floor in the fetal position holding his groin.

“I warned you.” I told him as I placed the bat under his chin so he could look at me as I spoke. “Didn’t I tell you that if you did anything to harm that sweet girl standing over there I’d make you beg for me to end your life? But NO! You didn’t listen. You just had to be the macho asshole and try to take out your frustration for not being able to get me to break down on that innocent girl who calls you daddy. Say good by daddy.” I told him as I brought the bat up over my head.

As I was about to swing for the fences on his face, someone grabbed the bat from me and almost caused me to fall on top of him as I swung without the bat in my hands anymore. I turned and saw Gwen, Grace’s mom standing there holding the bat in her hands shaking her head.

“No.” was all she said as she tossed my bat onto the bed.

“He needs to learn that no one hurts people I love.” I told her as I reached for the bat, and Gwen stopped me.

“Oh, he’ll learn alright.” she told me with a smile and pulled me into a whisper.

She laid out her plan. Her sister runs the very lab that did my brain transplant. And she knows that her sister and husband don’t get along, for the same reason that her husband and daughter don’t get along. Her sister was worried that meeting me would cause him to do something rash, and had given Gwen a sedative that would last until they could get him into the lab. She was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but since he left her with no alternative, even after promising that he wouldn’t say anything bad today, she was going to have his brain transplanted into the body of a twelve year old girl.

At first I was shocked that she would actually want to subject him to this sort of thing. But then it dawned on me that the biggest reason I was considered a lesbian now was that I was still attracted to women. I was still the same brain, but with different packaging around it. Then I broke out in laughter when it finally sank in about the age of the girl she was putting his brain in.

It was this time that I looked over and saw Grace looking at me with her jaw hanging open. I stopped laughing and walked over to comfort her, thinking she’d just heard everything her mom and I had just talked about.

“Grace, it’s going to be alright.” I told her as I put my arms around her.

“Amy, did you just say you love me?” she asked as she looked me in the eyes with tears forming in hers.

I paused for a moment and it finally became clear. I’d never really thought about it before now, but I did love her. I mean she is my best friend, and she and I have done some things that decorum dictate that I not mention here, but my feelings for her were more then a friend. I do love her, with all my heart. It just took me trying to kill her father for me to be able to verbalize it.

“Yes Grace. I do love you.” I said as I pulled her into a tight hug. “With all my being, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she told me sobbing into my shoulder. After a couple of minutes of holding each other, she looked up at me and wiped away her tears. “Would you really have killed my father if mom hadn’t stopped you?” she asked me.

It took me a few moments to register what she was asking me, but I just nodded and started to cry myself. I’d never felt the rage I was feeling upon hearing what he did to her, and I scared me that I almost took a man’s life.

“You really would have killed him, just because he yelled at me?” she asked me.

“No, not because he yelled at you, but because of WHAT he yelled at you.” I told her. “Look, who does he think he is, to be able to judge you based on his ignorance? Just because he doesn’t like the fact that you prefer to be with a woman, doesn’t give him the right, even if he is your father, to try to make you feel any less about yourself because of it.” I told her as I looked right into her eyes. “You are an amazing person. And I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to have you in my life. I know I can’t speak for your mom, but I’m sure she feels the same way I do. That’s why she gave up her career in the navy to raise you.” I said as I looked over to Gwen to see her nodding at my comments. “Anyone who hurts someone as special as you needs to be wiped off the face of the earth.” I told her hugging her.

“But we’re on the moon.” she said with a giggle.

“Moon,” I asked as I picked her up and carried her to the couch in the living room. “I’ll moon you.” I told her as I started to tickle her. After she was begging me to stop, I cuddled her and we shared the first kiss, as a real couple. We’d kissed before, but this was the first time we’d done it, after telling one another we loved each other.

To Be Continued...

I should warn you all that you may want to get the hankies and tissue's ready for this chapter. It made me cry when I wrote it so I can only guess that it'll have a similar effect to some of you Mean Girls 3026 Part 13 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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Once back on earth, I went to the storage unit address that my parents had included with the box of things they had the cryogenic lab hold for me. Grace and her mom, would be busy for a few days helping her dad overcome his bigotry, so I used the time to find out what tools I’d need to buy for my new job in Canada. Once I got to the storage unit, I made my way to the locker number on my key, and found that sometime in the past thousand years they’d changed from keys to finger print identification. THERE’S some good news. With nothing else I could do, I headed to the office to see if I could gain access to my locker. At first the woman behind the counter wasn’t going to let me in, because my parents had taken out the locker in the name of Josh Martin. Needless to say I didn’t look like a Josh anymore, let alone the fact that the locker account was taken out over a thousand years ago.

“Josh Martin is my great grandfather. I found this key with an old box of things from before his death.” I told her.

“Hold on, let me see if there is a hold on the account.” she told me as she looked it up on her computer.

After a couple of checks, she allowed me to clear out the locker and take the things with me. Good thing I came when I did too, because the account was about to run out of the pre-pay that my parents had paid for back in the day. I called Mark and he told me he’d be right over with his truck. So while I waited, I started to dig through the old things there to see what my parents had left for me. That’s when it really sunk in that they were gone, and these meager possessions were all I had to remember them by.

I found more pictures from back in the day, and couldn’t stop myself from flipping through them. One that caught my attention was of me, holding Cam, my cousin Jess’s son, on my motorcycle. I could feel the tears falling when I just looked at it and thought of all the good times I had with him and his dad. I took both of them to their first race, and Cam told me that he’d like to give it a try when he was old enough. What I didn’t tell him or his parents was that I’d set it up with a buddy from work who’s kids raced quarter midgets, that he could have a test session in one and that if he could handle the car, I’d build him one for his fifth birthday. The only problem was that I crashed my bike before that was allowed to happen.

I closed the photo book, and started to dig through the boxes, and after a couple of minutes, I was near the back of the locker and there I saw it. My old tool box. I made a path and started digging through the drawers to see what tools I had left, and what kind of shape they were in. As I started taking my mental inventory, I started counting my blessings that I’d spent the extra money for the high quality Snap-On box back in the day. Every tool I owned looked as new as the day I had bought them. Even my old “Thunder gun” impact guns looked to be in perfect shape. I had just reached the bottom drawer when Mark pulled up, and lucky for us, my parents had put my old ramps that I used to put my motorcycles in my pickup back in the day, in the locker with the rest of my things. With a little effort, we had Mark’s truck loaded with my box and I couldn’t help but laugh, when I saw the rear suspension about bottomed out from the sheer weight of my tools. We both decided that we wouldn’t put any more in his truck and I started packing my car with the remnants of the locker and we headed back to the house.

Once we had everything unloaded in the garage, I started to go through the boxes again and stopped with a chill when I read “We miss you Josh” on one of the boxes. I slowly untaped it, and saw an envelope on the top of a pile of old leather material. I sat on the cool concrete of the garage and started to cry when I read the letter inside.

My dearest Josh;

If you’re reading this, then what your father and I did, wasn’t for naught. We both love you and miss you more then you will ever know. Please understand that the reason we had you frozen was only because we both hoped and prayed that someday they would find a way to help you live a normal life. It took us both a couple of weeks to find the strength to be able to show up at the hospital and be able to actually speak with your doctors without either of us breaking down in tears. Not so much at the thought of trying to help you, but at the thought that my baby’s life as he knew it was going to be over. They told us that there was no way you’d be able to move your arms or your legs ever again. Knowing how active you’ve always been, broke our hearts. Your father and I made the hard choice to freeze you in hopes that one day science could help give you your life back.

By now you’ve found the storage locker with your old things in it. We just wanted to give you a way to keep in touch with your past, and remember that no matter what happens, your father and I will always be looking out for you. Most of these boxes are your old clothes. Provided they didn’t put your brain in another body, these should still fit you. There are also a couple of boxes of pictures. Some are from family and friends that showed up when they heard of your accident. Others are from before the crash and we figured that if you ever missed us, you could just look at the pictures and take solace in the fact that we both still love you. Also we kept your tools safe and sound. We know you’ve always liked racing, and figured you could use your tools to continue to make a living.

I know your father and I didn’t tell you often, but we are both very proud of you. You were able to live you the dream we know you had since you were a kid. When you made it to the big leagues of racing, both your father and I started talking again. I know we hadn’t spoken for a couple of years, but you helped give us something to talk about. We both would beam with pride when we saw you on TV at the races, and would tell anyone who would listen that our son was a race car mechanic.

I’ll let you go Josh. Just know this. Your father and I miss you very much, and do hope that your life will continue to bring you happiness when you finally get a chance to read this. We both love you.

Mom and Dad

I just sat there in the garage, bawling my eyes out as I read the words that my mom had written me. I couldn’t believe I’d ever get the chance to hear from her again, but as I read her words, I could actually hear her speaking them to me. After I finally was able to calm down, I reached in the box and pulled out the leather material from the box. I was shocked to find that it was my old leathers from the accident. The leathers looked in good shape, but when I looked in the box again, I saw what was left of my helmet and my heart sank again as I pulled out the badly broken and shattered mess.

Inside the helmet was a small book. I started to flip through the pages, and saw it was a photo album, and the first page had the news paper clipping from my accident. I was shocked to find out that the truck that hit me was my buddy Dave. He was my best friend from back in the day, and we were inseparable. We’d hunt, fish, camp, ride, and go to Karaoke. I mean we did everything. He was the only one I felt I could talk to when I was having personal problems. And he knew that if he ever needed any help with anything, I’d be there for him. I mean hell; I gave the guy one of my kidneys when his shut down. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.

As I flipped through the book, I saw photos of me in the hospital and then the day they had me frozen. It really sank in then, that they were all gone. And I felt great mourning for my friends and family that were gone. On the next page, was an envelope in the photo jacket, with a post-it not attached in mom’s writing?

Josh, don’t open this unless you’re with people who care about you.

I wasn’t sure about what was in the envelope, so I went into the house to find mom, and dad. They could see I’d been crying and both hugged me as we all took a seat in the living room so I could open the mystery envelope from my mom. I wasn’t sure I could take anymore surprises, so I asked mom to open it. I watched the look on her face and then watched as she handed the news paper clipping from the envelope to dad.

“What’s it say?” I asked shaking.

“David Sykes 50 was found dead today, in his apartment. The police said Mr. Sykes apparently hanged himself, distraught from severely injuring his friend in a two vehicle accident a month ago. Josh Martin, 31 of Fulton, was cryogenically frozen yesterday after sustaining ten crushed vertebrae when the motorcycle he was riding slammed head on with the truck Sykes was driving. Sykes was passing a car on a double solid line, and neither Martin nor Sykes saw the other coming, until they collided. Gerald Martin, father if Josh, told officials that Sykes had been distraught over the accident and Martin had tried to talk Sykes into getting counseling to help deal with his grief. Martin went on to say that neither he nor his son’s mother blamed Sykes for what happened. Stating that he knew the dangers of riding and that stretch of road is notorious for being hard to see what’s coming from the other direction.

Police are ruling Sykes death a suicide, stating that a note was found pinned to his shirt. Hand writing analysis showed that it was Sykes’ handwriting, and no charges would be filed.” Mark put the clipping down and watched the look of shock on my face.

“That cock.” I spat as I started to cry. “He never gave me a chance to say goodbye.”

Mom put her arm around me and rubbed my back as I sobbed into her shoulder. I couldn’t believe that my best friend had ended his own life, just because he had accidently hit me with his truck. It wasn’t his fault. But then again, I’d have probably done the same thing if I’d been the one in the truck and he was the one on the bike. I just closed my eyes and cried.

“You know, they say that if you write down what you want to say to someone who’s passed, and then burn it, they’ll get it.” Mandy told me as she rubbed my back.

I looked at her and nodded, wiping my eyes. I took the clipping and went up to my room, and set down to writing a letter to Dave.

Dear Old Man;

I miss you. I wish we both could have had one more chance to go fishing at that little spot we both like out behind the nuke plants in Oswego. I want you to know, that I don’t blame you for anything that happened with the accident. I mean, hell, I’ve passed on that double solid myself countless times. What I do blame you for, is not going on living for me. You had just gotten your life back, and had so much left to do. Why? You know I was going to be alright someday; you stubborn dick. You just can’t talk about your feelings to anyone can you? I miss you man. You didn’t have to do it. I love you like the big brother I never had. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart. Know that I’ll never forget all the good times we shared, and all the fun we had. You are my best friend. Best friends don’t stop being friends when one of them dies. BFF, means Best Friends FOREVER! Forever, never ends. Rest in peace my friend. Karma owes me one, and I want to cash it in to give you peace at long last. So rest up, and enjoy the afterlife. I’ll see you when I get there, and we’ll share a pint together.

One last thing, can you look in on a young girl for me? Her name is Amy Smith. She died, or rather was brain dead, so her parents gave me her body. Just tell her thank you for me, and look out for her, like you used to do for me. Words can’t say how much I miss you man. I just wish I’d have one more chance to see you.

The dickhead

Now before you ask, I used to call him old man, because he was twenty years older than I was, and he used to call me dickhead, because I used to never have that filter between my brain and mouth. Whatever I was thinking, I’d say. That was the one thing Dave used to tell me he liked, since I never pulled any punches, and everyone always knew where they stood with me.

I lit the letter and smiled up at the single cloud in the sky as I watched the smoke rise and carry my words to my old friend. As I stood there and watched, I could swear I saw the cloud form into Dave’s face, but I just chalked it up to my imagination, but I did feel better when I finished burning the letter.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Once we got there, the entire shop was falling over themselves to meet us and see the rides that Kenny had been telling them about since he got back from the moon. Mean Girls 3026 Part 14 Written by Toni Trepasso Edited by Gwen Brown, with my many thanks to her.

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The day finally came to make the trip up to Canada. Kenny had set up a furnished apartment for Grace, Samantha and I so the only things we needed to bring were our clothes, the projects, and our tools. That is to say, we brought my tools, since Grace really didn’t have any of her own, yet. I was trying to figure out how to get our stuff from our homes to the shop and figured that now would be as good a time as any to bite the bullet and spring for a hauler for my car and her bike. As it turned out I found a stacker, tagalong trailer that would hold my two cars up top and still allow enough room for all four bikes on the lower level. To tow the monster trailer, I bought a new toter-home.

Now if you’ve never seen one of these things before, let me see if I can explain it to you. Basically what they do is start out with the longest tractor trailer chassis that International makes, and put a standard cab, engine and drive train in it. Then where you’d normally find the sleeper section, they build a full motor-home style living area, complete with twin slide out sections. They even put an RV style bathroom in the living area so you aren’t reliant on the facilities at the track, which usually consist of nothing more than porta-johns. So you can see where this would come in handy. They even have an RV style air-conditioning unit in it, to help on the hot days. So all in all, it’s a quite comfortable place to spend your down time at the track. Especially since I sprung for the large television and satellite service, that can be used while you’re going down the road.

We pulled into Lang Racing’s shop after a couple of days on the road. The good thing about a toter-home, is that it’s registered as a class A motor-home, so you don’t need a CDL to drive one. That came in handy, since we had to drive clear across Canada from Central New York State, to the shop in Alberta. Grace and I took turns driving while the other slept, so the two day trip wasn’t that bad at all. I called Kenny when we hit the city limits, and he guided us to the shop. Once we got there, the entire shop was falling over themselves to meet us and see the rides that Kenny had been telling them about since he got back from the moon.

First thing we brought out of the trailer was Grace’s bike. The look on all the guy’s faces was classic as she backed the bike out onto the lift gate and then wheeled it into the shop. I don’t know what got the boys more excited, her bike, or her breasts resting on the tank as she steered the bike inside. When we pulled my race car out, I could tell from the expressions on many of the faces that there was a spit between being impressed and skeptical. Both due to the fact that a couple of eighteen year old girls built the car from scratch. To tell the truth, I’d have probably acted the same way if I were in their shoes. Since the parking lot to the shop is a bit up hill, from where we were parked, I had to fire the engine so I could drive into the shop. I could have asked for help pushing, but I wanted to squash some of the skeptics by showing them that I could handle this monster of a car.

On my way back out of the shop, I had to stop one of the guys from putting the gate up on the truck. My street car was still in the trailer and had Grace work the lift gate, while I unstrapped it and fired the engine so I could back the car out. Once again, the guys were shocked at what I was driving. I guess that I’m just going to have to get used to the fact that it’s not every day you see a cute girl driving the beastliest car to come out of Dearborn.

Once we had the trailer locked up, Kenny hopped in the passenger seat and guided us to the apartment he had for us to use. It didn’t take that long to get our clothes put away, and he waited for Grace and I to both catch a quick shower, and change for dinner. We were going to meet Mrs. Lang and Kenny’s daughter that night. He told us it was casual, so Grace and I both wore matching LBD’s and three inch pumps. On the way out to the parking lot, Kenny was almost begging me to let him drive to dinner, and since I hate to see a grown man beg.

“So are you ladies going to let me drive you to dinner?” he asked with a Cheshire Cat grin.

“I don’t know.” I said in a mock concerned tone. “This thing is my baby. Are you sure you can handle the power?” I asked him with a wink to Grace, who giggled.

“If I can’t handle a street car, I have not business driving a pro-modified.” he told me with his hands on his hips.

“Alright.” I said like a mother to her child who just asked to borrow the car. “But you have to promise to be careful.”

“Quit teasing, and give me the keys.” he shot back with a smirk.

I tossed him the keys and we all buckled in for the ride. For the most part, Kenny showed remarkable restraint on the ride to the restaurant. The only time he really got on it, was when a kid in a sports-car pulled up and started ragging on “that ancient beast.”

“Flip that switch right next to the cigarette lighter and hammer it when the light goes green.” I told Kenny.

He looked at me for a second in confusion and then nodded. I could see the grin on his face as he activated the exhaust cut outs with the switch, allowing the engine to breathe unmuffled. As the light turned, we left the intersection like we’d just robbed Fort Knox. I could see in my mirror that the kid was still sitting at the light, and he was getting smaller and smaller as we just kept putting more distance between him and us.

We pulled up to the restaurant, and saw two women waving at us as we parked. Kenny introduced us to his wife Mary, and his daughter Tracy. Both of whom could have passed for swimsuit models. Until they held out their hands to shake as he introduced us, I couldn’t tell which one was the mother and which one was the daughter. Both ladies were rather tall, I’d say about six feet easy, and had that slender model/volleyball player look to their bodies. Both auburn haired beauties with their hair done up in a french braid. Mrs. Lang was confused at first when only two of us showed up for dinner.

“I thought you said there were three women joining the team?” she asked Kenny.

“There are.” he said with a nod. “The third one is coming in on the next flight from the moon tomorrow.”

“Ah, so you girls must be the wonder twins my husband’s been raving about since his little trip last month.” she said to Grace and I as she gave us the once over. “And I suppose that hotrod my husband drove up in belongs to one of you?” she asked, looking at me like I was a bimbo.

“Yes ma’am.” I said with courteous smile. “It’s my daily driver. Would you like to take it for a spin sometime?” I asked, causing her to pause for a second and look at me with a look that sent a chill up my spine.

“I don’t think so. I only drive German cars.” she told me rudely.

“Well technically, it is. Mercedes bought Chrysler back in the late twentieth century, so that Plymouth can be considered under the German flag.” I said politely.

“I don’t think so.” she told me and turned on her heels to go into the restaurant.

The rest of us followed her and her daughter leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just not happy that daddy hired you to work for him. She just has a problem because you’re both pretty.”

I was shocked. Here was a girl I’d just met, who in her own right could hold her own with any model, telling me I’m pretty. Lucky for me, I felt Grace squeeze my hand, to stop me from dwelling on it too long.

Dinner was nice. Well, that is to say no one died, although I wanted to at many points, just so Mary would stop giving me the evil eye. Tracy for her part, tried to keep the conversation light and pleasant by asking Grace and I to talk about our projects. I took that opportunity to prove to Mrs. Lang that I wasn’t an air headed bimbo like she most likely thought I was. Grace took my lead and we both spoke on the technical aspects of the vehicles we’d built. I’m not sure, but I think it worked. Not much mind you, because when we left the restaurant, Mrs. Lang didn’t give me so much as a goodby, kiss my ass, or fuck off. She just climbed behind the wheel of her obviously new BMW and honked impatiently for Kenny who shook both our hands and made sure we knew how to get back to the apartment. Grace and I climbed back into my car and headed back to our new home, with Grace giggling.

“What’s so funny?” I asked as I drove.

“If she’s pissed he hired us,” she said between laughs. “Wait until that battle ax gets a load of Samantha.”

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed, and started laughing too. “You’re right. Houston, I think we have a problem.” I said holding my nose so I sounded like I was talking over an old two way radio.

More prolific words were never spoken. When Samantha met Mary then next day at the shop, I thought world war three was going to break out. She shoved Kenny into his office when I brought Samantha from the airport to the shop and you could hear every word she screamed at him. Of course decorum dictates that I not repeat the strings of obscenities she used, nor the vulgar display she continued with when Kenny walked out of his office on her. She finally stormed out and you could hear her light the tires on her BMW as she tore out of the parking lot.

“I’m sorry if we’ve caused you any trouble at home Kenny.” I said to him sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it Amy.” he said with a sigh. “She’s just a bitter woman, who can’t stand it when she sees another woman trying to make something of herself.”

“Why’s she so mean?” Grace asked him.

“Because, she never finished college, and thinks that anyone with an education will look down at her.” he told us.

“A lot of great people in this world never finished college.” I offered. “She seems like a well read person. Surely there’s another reason she’s so pissed off.”

“Yeah there is.” Tracy spoke up. “She thinks daddy’s going to replace her with one of you.”

“Uh, NO!” Grace and I said at the same time.

“I already have a girlfriend.” I blurted out.

“Me too.” Grace said followed with grabbing my hand in hers.

“And while I’m single, I’m also gay.” Samantha offered, shaking her head.

“Not that any of that matters.” Kenny said rubbing his head like he was getting a headache. “I hired the three of you because you are competent working on race cars. I love my wife. I just wish she could see that.”

“Let’s just let our first weekend at the track speak for itself.” I offered. “When I win the class, and it comes time to pose for pictures with the trophy, stand next to your wife, and hold her tight. Let her know by your actions how much she means to you. Provided we’re not racing each other in the finals, stand next to her on the starting line. And when I win for you, kiss her full on the lips, right in front of the camera, and tell her how lucky you are that she’s allowed you to hire me. Since I’m going to be making you a lot of money.” I said with a grin.

“And when I win my class, do the exact same thing.” Grace offered with a grin, and a wink to me.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that there’s no confidence in either of your families, is there?” he asked with chuckle. “You both have it all right? You think you can go out and win against the best in the world right out of the box?”

“If I don’t win my first race, I’ll buy you and your wife a week’s vacation to anywhere in the world.” I told him straight faced.

“Alright, and what if you do, win?” he asked.

“I’ll find you a sponsorship for my car and Grace’s bike.” I told him with a grin.

“Uh, how can I lose then?”

“You can’t.” I told him and shook his hand.

TO BE CONTINUED...