Carter knew that he was awake, but didn’t want to open his eyes. What time was it? Maybe it was still early and he could get another few hours in before checking in on his sister.

Ugh… the thought still bothered him. He was glad his parents hadn’t gotten them a babysitter for the weekend, but this was the third trip out of state since the school year started. Didn’t they know he needed the weekends to himself and his own friends?

He still needed to know what time it was.

When Carter did open his eyes, however, the first thing he saw was not his bedside alarm clock but his little sister, standing by his bed in her pajamas and holding a large old book. She looked like she had been caught red handed, which wasn’t too far off because her simply being in Carter’s room was a crime.

“Victoria, what are—?”

He coughed, trying to clear his throat, but the movement alerted him to another problem. Hair was falling into his face, his clothes were pulling tightly, and his body was squishing in places where it shouldn’t.

“The hell?!” he cried, sitting up and pulling blankets off.

Victoria opened her mouth to say something but jumped back in surprise when a piercing scream filled the room. Carter clasped a hand over his mouth, still looking over his body.

He had breasts! Big, bouncy balls of fat sticking out of his chest! He had long hair! He was wearing girl’s pajamas! And a quick squeeze of his freakishly hairless legs confirmed that something else very important was missing.

There was a long moment of stillness, as if the slightest movement or breath would be enough to break his fragile mind. Then, Carter turned his had to look at Victoria, who was biting her lip and avoiding his gaze in the way that an eleven-year-old telegraphs “I’m super guilty! This is my fault!”

“What—” Carter winced at the sound of his voice “—what… happened… to me?”

Victoria glanced at him and opened her mouth, before closing it again and putting on a fake smile.

“I thought…” she said, “since mom and dad are gone… you could try being my big sister for the weekend instead of my brother, so I… kind of… cast a spell on you?”

An involuntary snort escaped Carter, causing Victoria to jump. And then he laughed as the ludicrousness of the situation came crashing down on him.

“I’m dreaming,” he said, falling back down onto his pillow, “This is all some sort of fever dream.”

“No it’s not!” Victoria proclaimed, “See this book? It’s my spell book. I have all kinds of magic in here. And if you want me to change you back on Sunday, then you’ll have to spend the weekend with me, Alisson!”

Then her posture lost some of its boldness as she waited for Carter to respond. She screamed when he lunged forward, quickly losing hold of the book as he jerked it out of her hands. Once she realized he wasn’t trying to tackle her, she looked away and balled her hands into fists.

Carter flipped open the book to several different pages, but while the markings inside looked like some kind of alphabet there certainly wasn’t anything resembling English. There were faded illustrations, but they were completely unrecognizable.

“This is all nothing!” he cried.

“To you,” Victoria growled, reaching forward, “Now give it back.”

Carter held the book out of her reach, demanding, “Where did you get this anyway? How did you pay for it? Why do you have it?”

Victoria huffed and began to explain: “Remember last year? The big week-long fifth grade camping trip?”

“No?”

Victoria crossed her arms and gave him a dark look.

“Well, one day I went off the trail, and I found these big rocks with a light coming through the holes. I squeezed in and found this little cave where the book was. I’ve been practicing since then.”

“There’s nothing in here. How can you possibly—?”

“Just because you can’t read it doesn’t mean I can’t! The book says that only the owner can read it, and it says that I’m the owner because I found it.”

“That’s…” Carter trailed off. He had wanted to call it stupid, but with every new moment it was getting harder and harder to disbelieve her.

And if she could do this, what else was she capable of?

He instead asked, “What do you want from me?”

Victoria’s eyes seemed to light up.

“If you want me to break the spell on Sunday, you’ll have to act like my big sister Allison until then.”

“No, absolutely not!”

She faltered for a moment, but then stepped forward and pointed a finger at him.

“Yes you will,” she said, “Or I’ll… I’ll turn you into a doll! Or make it so you can only talk like a cat.”

“And how are you going to do that without your magic book?”

Victoria’s eyes widened, but she stuttered out, “I’ve already memorized enough spells to use if you don’t listen to me. I don’t even need the book.”

Carter glared at her. He wanted nothing more than to call bullshit, but he didn’t know anything about magic.

“Fine,” he finally said, “But I’m not giving you this book back and I’m not going to be called ‘Allison.’ Got that?”

Victoria’s shoulders drooped, but then she took a deep breath and replied, “Fine, whatever. Just go take a shower already. And don’t worry about your clothes. They’ll transform to fit your body.”

Carter wanted nothing more than to ask how that worked, but he pushed it aside for now.

“I’m not taking a shower like this,” he said.

“You can’t be dirty all day! That’s gross. My sister wouldn’t do that!”

“I’m not your sister,” he growled, “And what? You don’t have a spell for that?”

“Oh… yes, I do!”

“Victoria? Victoria, wait!”

Carter tried to chase after his sister as she took off running out of his room, but only managed to fall out of bed and stumble back to his feet. By the time he made it to the kitchen, it was to the sight of her cutting off a small piece of soap from a larger chunk.

“What are you doing? You can’t play with knives.”

Victoria just turned to him with a smirk, the small piece of soap in her open hand. She leaned in and said a few words Carter didn’t understand.

Some sort of flowery smell filled the air as Carter watched the soap in Victoria’s hand vanish, and suddenly he felt like he’d just got done drying off from a long, thorough shower. His skin was dry and clean, and when he ran his hands through his hair it wasn’t the least bit oily.

“There, see? I don’t need the book to cast spells.”

Carter took a step back, half intending to make a dash for the front door and never looking back. What had been a mystery before had suddenly turned very, very real.

After a moment of stillness, Victoria started to shuffle around. Carter didn’t want to take his eyes off her, but also didn’t want to spend the day walking around in what basically amounted to dirty underwear, for how revealing these pajamas were.

“Don’t do anything until I get changed,” he said, slowly turning away and heading back down the hall.

Only after Carter had securely locked his door and confirmed that the damned book was still there did he sit down and breathe freely.

According to Victoria, his clothes would change to match his body. At the very least, it would explain where the pajamas he was already wearing came from.

Groaning, Carter grabbed the shorts by the waist and started to shimmy them down his legs. His smooth, shapely legs. Eww. As soon as they were loose, he let them drop, and when they hit the floor they were the same regular jean shorts he’d worn to bed the night before again.

Even though he’d been looking right at them, he didn’t really see the change. They were just pajama bottoms one second and regular clothes the next. Carter wasn’t even sure he’d be able to pinpoint when they changed if he’d gone through frame by frame with a camera.

A shudder overtook him and he quickly glanced over to the closed blinds. He’d have to be doubly sure that every window in the house was covered.

He kicked the pants over to the wall and moved over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of boxers, a pair of shorts, and a tee shirt from the closet.

There was no telling how this was going to turn out.

“Fuck.”

It was probably like ripping off a band-aid, he thought: the faster the better. But he peeled off the shirt with an agonizing slowness, trying to focus on anything except the soft fleshy bits on his chest that got pulled around with it.

Carter flung that shirt against the wall too, his eyes stinging from tears.

Taking the panties off made him want to vomit. By the time he’d kicked them away they’d already returned to being boxers, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

As it turned out, the only thing worse than standing around in those clothes was standing naked in the middle of the room.

Without looking down, Carter bent over to pull on a new pair of boxers. They went on fine, but as he stood up it felt wrong. Against his better judgment, he chanced a look down, past the new breasts he was sporting.

“Goddammit,” he swore, closing his eyes tight and wiping away the tears forming.

They could have just been plain, single-colored panties. But they weren’t Maybe it was because of the football pattern of his boxers, but these panties were covered with various pom-poms and stars.

Carter didn’t want to see that anymore. He grabbed the new pair of shorts and slid them on, quickly doing the button and turning to grab his shirt.

“What—oh fuck no!” he cried, looking down at the restrictive denim skirt that had replaced his actual clothes. “What is this bullshit?”

He quickly made to undo the button and rip them off, but gave up and let his arms hang limp. That was just going to happen to all of them, wasn’t it?

Carter pushed his shirt into his face and screamed, using the shirt to wipe away the forming tears. Then he unraveled his shirt and made to put it on.

No sooner had he gotten comfortable than the shirt began to feel tight around his torso. A quick glance down showed that it really hugged his new tighter waist and bigger chest.

There was a small hanging mirror in Carter’s room. It wasn’t enough for him to get a full view of himself, but he could see his face and some of his body. At least, besides the obvious of being a girl, he still looked a lot like himself. More like his mother rather than some twig-thin bond porn star.

It was like some kind of sick Halloween costume.

At the very least, the decal on his shirt was now a surprisingly badass rose-and-thorns motif.

The last thing Carter did was grab a pair of socks. By the time he was back on his feet, they’d already stretched up to his knees and taken on a garish white, pink, and blue argyle pattern.

“Well, I don’t have to look at my legs, at least.”

He pushed the hair out of his face, wishing he had something to tie it back with. Maybe if he were in a better mood he’d ask his sister for one of her headbands, but they were probably too small even for him.

Throwing his old shirt over the webcam just in case, Carter quickly pulled up Skype on his computer and sent out a group message.

Hey everyone—serious computer problems. Wi-fi barely working. I don’t think it’ll be fixed before the weekend is over. Definitely can’t use webcam. Probably can’t play any games. Feeling really pissed right now! If you don’t hear from me, I’ll see some of you on Monday.

By the time the message was fully composed, Carter was practically slamming his hands into the keyboard. All he’d wanted to do this weekend, the only thing he asked for, was to play some damn games and shoot the shit with his friends. And then his fucking sister—

He yanked the spell book from where it was sitting and glared at it, wondering what to do with the damn thing.

The closet? She’d find it easily.

Under the bed? Too obvious; that should have been the first place he’d thought of.

Behind the bookshelf? But then how would he get it out when he needed it again?

He decided that this wasn’t anything worth thinking too hard over. Not with everything else already swimming through his head. He zipped open his backpack and shoved the book in among folders and textbooks.

Would she find it there? Maybe. Or maybe it was hidden really well in plain sight. Either way, the day had barely started and Carter was too exhausted to care.

One last frightened moan escaped his throat, and Carter opened the door to walk out and face the day. He was surprised to find Victoria there, who jumped at Carter’s sudden emergence. Her hand was raised in a curled fist, but pulled close to her body as if uncertain if she was going to knock or not.

“Oh, um… there you ware. Um… actually, that outfit looks… pretty…”

She bit her lip and shrunk down a little under his gaze, but quickly straightened back up and cleared her throat.

“So, first we’re going to look up what movies are playing down at the mall. We’ll get lunch before the movie starts, so you’ll need to bring money for both.”

Carter folded his arms and snorted, a smirk taking over his expression.

“Oh? And how are you planning on getting there?”

“what? You’re going to drive us.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“And how am I going to do that, if ‘Allison’ doesn’t have a driver’s license?”

Victoria opened her mouth, though to say something or in surprise it was hard to tell, and then all at once seemed to deflate.

“I… I mean… so what? We’ll just move on to something else then.” She cleared her throat again and stuck her chest out, “Instead, we’re going to move on to playing video games together, and we’ll… order pizza for lunch.”

Without waiting for a rebuttal, she sharply turned and marched off toward the living room.

Video games with his eleven-year-old sister.

Carter rolled his eyes at the thought, but followed.

There was nobody outside when Carter glanced out the front window, but he still nervously glanced around anyway. All it would take was a stray neighbor with a phone to catch a picture of him and alert his parents that something was wrong.

A strong gust blew away some of the crispy brown leaves, but everything else was still.

Carter closed the blinds, and pulled the curtains shut just to be sure.

Victoria was waiting by the couch. Carter took the Wii remote from her, feeling more than a little silly as he followed her instructions to put the wrist strap on. She was literally blowing dust off the console, and practically bouncing with excitement as she put the game disk in.

Victoria plopped down on the couch and motioned for Carter to sit, informing him that they were playing Mario Kart first.

Carter groaned and tried to get comfortable. Normally, the plushness of the couch would be super relaxing, but the way it made him sink into the cushion caused his shirt to bunch up, making his chest shift and squish as well. At this point he was seriously considering whether a bra would help or not.

“Um… maybe if you—”

Carter shot a nasty look her way, and Victoria shut up and shrank back. His expression softened as she scooted away from him, but he didn’t need to put up with her right now. Even ignoring the shirt as best he could, the denim skirt made it impossible for him to spread his legs or even sit cross-legged like he wanted.

Victoria picked an easy level for them to start with, not that Carter cared. He was too busy pulling at the hem of his skirt that running off the road was inevitable. Too busy shaking the hair out of his eyes that he couldn’t reach any of the power ups. And it was getting hard to press the buttons with long manicured nails.

The most annoying thing, though, was catching Victoria continuously glancing his way out of the corner of his eyes. Every time she did, she made a mistake, which might have found worth a smug little smirk if the situation weren’t so unpleasant.

The second race wasn’t much different from the first, except that Carter grumbled a bit louder and fidgeted a bit more. Victoria noticed this, and leaned even further away from him. Halfway through the third race, as Carter came close to just tossing his controller across the room, Victoria piped up, “H-hey, why don’t we try something else?”

Without waiting for a reply, she leaped from the couch toward the stack of games. Carter just leaned back and sighed. He closed his eyes and continued fidgeting.

A familiar and welcome fanfare caused him to pause and check the screen. Victoria was practically bouncing to see a positive reaction from him.

“Yeah, I know you love this game!” she said, “And I’ve been practicing too!”

She threw Carter the other half of the controller for him to plug into the stick. Despite this surprise, though, Carter wasn’t exactly as bright and eager as Victoria seemed to hope. Still, eh did his best to sit up and avoid being swallowed by the plushness of the couch.

As the game loaded, Carter wished he’d grabbed his phone. At the very least, someone he knew might be doing something worth texting about. If nothing else, Facebook was probably at least moderately rage-inducing today. Election day was coming up.

“I’m playing as Kirby!” Victoria declared.

Carter wanted to roll his eyes. He didn’t care. He just picked out Link like always and waited for Victoria to pick out what other characters would fill the match.

“How about Samus?”

“That’s fine.”

“Or Ness?”

“Whatever.”

“What about Sonic?”

“Victoria,” Carter said, “Literally any character will work.”

“I just want you to enjoy the game.”

Carter bit his tongue and grunted instead of replying.

Victoria sighed and leaned back, deciding to just go with the lineup they had. When it came to the level select screen, she opened her mouth, but closed it again and selected one randomly.

It hadn’t occurred to Carter before, but maybe it wasn’t a good idea to jump right into a game he hadn’t played for years without relearning the controls a bit first. He spent the entirety of the first match getting his ass handed to him by the enemy AI. The only person he got a shot in against was Victoria, and only when her back was turned.

“The enemies aren’t too strong, are they?” Victoria asked as Carter was knocked off the screen again.

His response was a dark muttering under his breath.

When Victoria inevitably wo the match and they were taken to the results screen, Carter decided that he had no choice but to make a complicated maneuver. Trying not to lose his balance and fall off the couch, he pulled his legs up to the couch and tried squeezing them under him, so that he was not sitting half on his legs.

He was still adjusting his shirt when the match started, trying desperately hard to get his breasts out of the way without drawing too much attention to himself.

This time he did much better, managing to throw Meta Knight off the ledge twice before Victoria knocked him off the platform.

He snorted, asking, “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

And aside from occasionally having to push his hair out of the way or adjusting his legs, Carter did significantly better now that he had the controls down. He won each of the next three rounds, though Victoria came pretty close to beating him again once.

“We should do teams next,” she said, “Me and the enemies against you.”

“Don’t feel confident if it’s a fair fight?”

“It would only be fair if it was five on one,” she retorted.

He smirked, but paused a moment to stretch, more than a little miffed by the strange ways in which his body moved.

“Um… hey?” Victoria asked.

“What?”

“How about we ay a different game?”

Carter gave what he hoped was a questioning look.

“It’s a game I’ve always wanted to play with you. Here, let me put it in.”

Carter watched with uncertain curiosity as she walked over to pick out a game he’d never seen before.

A logo filled the screen.

“Epic Mickey 2?”

“Um… yeah. I mean, it’s not like the kind of games you normally play, but I thought it’d be fun.”

Carter began fidgeting again, and Victoria’s expression faltered.

“Just give it a try,” she said, “It’ll be fun... I promise.”

Carter wasn’t so sure. Apparently, he was in control of some Disney character he’d never heard of, and they were participating in some ridiculous plot h was having a hard time following.

And speaking of trouble with controls, Carter had never imagined he’d be the dumb friend who needed to be coached through every little thing the game asked of him. Of everything so far, this definitely had to be the most emasculating. The very thought of what his friends would say to see him struggle like this…

He couldn’t help but feel that this was really stupid. He could be playing Dark Souls right now, but he was stuck with his baby sister playing Epic fucking Mickey 2. He could be playing Dishonored again, or any of the Dead Space games. But he was watching Mickey Mouse run around with a magic paint brush. Because his sister was holding him hostage.

The screen went dark and returned to the menu screen.

Victoria was avoiding Carter’s gaze.

“What if we play Lego Batman instead?”

“No, I’m done.”

Carter made to stand up, struggling against the clothes he was wearing.

“W-what about—?”

“I just want to be left alone,” he said, finally pulling himself off of the couch and heading toward the hallway.

“But… but what about… it’s almost lunch time! We were supposed to get pizza!”

“I’ll order us a damn pizza,” Carter assured her, not turning around.

Carter made sure his door was locked, and then stuck his chair against the door just to be sure. He didn’t know if that would work or not, but better to be safe.

His friends had sent him various messages of condolences and regret. They even did it with fewer swear words than he had anticipated. He quickly started sending messages back out, stopping only to tug at his shirt some more.

Things were almost normal for a moment.

He did quickly order a peperoni pizza for himself and Victoria. He didn’t know if Victoria liked peperoni, but he wasn’t very inclined to care right now.

While he waited for anyone to message him back, Carter unzipped his backpack and pulled out the spell book. He supposed there wasn’t any way for Victoria to have gotten it while they were playing games together, but it was good to be sure.

Flipping through it, it still proved to be gibberish to him.

He put the book back and returned to his computer.

This wouldn’t end well.

Carter quickly googled “magic book” and skimmed through a few pages of results. Bunk, bullshit, and a lot of people with way too much free time on their hands. He couldn’t even tell what was RP and what was genuine insanity.

Of course, it’s not like he had the experience to know what to believe anyway.

He pulled at his shirt again, letting out a loud, strained groan.

“I hate this!” he cried, wiping tears from his eyes, “How does anyone deal with these things?”

But Carter knew the answer to that, as much as he hated to admit it.

But he wasn’t going to wear a damn bra. He wasn’t going to give into Victoria’s little game. There wouldn’t even be a way to be discreet about it; as thin as his shirt was, a bra would be obvious to anyone looking.

More obvious than seeing his nipples through the fabric already—

Fuck!

He wasn’t sure what was worse. The thought of his sister seeing his nipples all day, or the pizza man who’d be there soon. His sister was at least a girl herself, but she was his sister.

Carter and Victoria were the only two in the house, but Carter still closed the door to his parents’ room behind him.

There was a full-length mirror on the room, finally giving Carter the chance to get a better look at himself. Well, less of a chance and more of a forced reckoning. There was a redness around his eyes from where he’d teared up. His clothes, if they could even be called his, were wrinkled and twisted. His hair was all over the place.

The girl in the mirror looked like she’d been dumped by her boyfriend and spent the day crying into her pillow.

And she was a girl, despite how hard he clenched his fists in anger.

He could see her nipples poking through her shirt. And through the tears forming he got a good sight of her exposed sight of her exposed thighs, supple and bare and clean-shaven.

It took Carter a moment to realize the strange feeling welling up inside of him, despite the heat rising in his cheeks. Utterly disguised in himself, he ran into his parents’ bathroom and splashed cold water all over his face.

Carter focused on the sound of running water to clear his mind. He couldn’t help getting a good look at his face in the mirror, and decided to test whether or not looks really could kill.

And then he dropped his shoulders and sighed, even though it came out as a distressed whine.

“What the fuck happened to me?”

He waited, but no answer came, so he left the bathroom.

Trying not to think too hard about it, Carter searched through his mother’s dresser until he found a plain beige bra. His parents would be so disgusted with him. If he were in a better state of mind, he would be too.

Glancing back at the door, he quickly stripped off his shirt and threw it onto the bed. He’d never worn a bra before, obviously. He practiced with the latch a few times before actually trying to put it on. One arm, then the other.

The thick fabric against his nipples was very sudden and uncomfortable. He took a gulp and powered through it, slipping his arms through and reaching back to grab at the hooks.

A minute later, when the door opened and Victoria poked her heat in to ask “Cater? Are you in here?”, he had given up and planted his face firmly into the blanket of his parents’ bed.

Carter almost jumped at the surprise, but simply asked “What?” without lifting his head.

“Um… the pizza’s here. I need money to pay for it.”

“Help me with this.”

“Um… sure.”

Carter felt his sister hook the bra and he mumbled a brief “thanks” before lifting his head and telling her, “I’ll pay for the pizza. Just toss me my shirt.”

He only briefly glanced at the bra in the mirror as he pulled his shirt back on. It hadn’t changed save for fitting slightly better. He grabbed his wallet from his room and headed toward the front door.

Okay, he thought, I can do this. He doesn’t know who you are. Just don’t give him enough time to think about having sex with you.

He opened the door. Standing there was a girl a little older than he was.

That’ll work too.

He gave her the money and took the pizza in return, very aware of how his voice and knees were shaking throughout the exchange. She gave him a worried look, but didn’t say anything.

“Thankskeepthechangebye!” he managed to blubber out, and even waited for her to thank him and step away before calmly closing the door.

Carter let out a deep breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding.

The pizza looked good, probably better than it would have if Cater had already eaten anything today. He grabbed two slices and set them down on the table, then sat down himself as he folded his skirt beneath his legs.

“Looks good, right?” Victoria sked, sitting down beside him with her own plate.

Carter didn’t respond.

“How are your friends?” she asked, and Carter gave a frustrated sigh.

“Okay, um… so, in my history class we’re—”

“Please stop,” Carter said, finally looking right at her.

Victoria hesitated for a moment, then looked away. He could see her fighting back tears.

“Fine then!” she snapped, “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“What do I want to do?” he asked, “Are you serious? I want you to change me back and let me get along with my life!”

Victoria reeled back, nearly falling out of her chair, but then snarled and retorted, “Well not with that attitude, ‘sister!’ We had a deal!”

“There is no deal!” he cried, “There is only you and your goddamn magic. And I am not, nor will I ever be, your sister. And unless you change me back right now—”

“What could you possibly do to me?”

Career jumped from his chair, tossing his pizza to the ground and causing Victoria to nearly fall from her own chair in fright. Her eyes were wide and her breath had caught in her throat.

Without another word, Carter stormed off back to his room.

He heard Victoria’s chair start to move, but he swung around and pointed a finger at her.

“You leave me alone, you monster!”

She froze, and he turned away.

Carter paced back and forth across his room for a while, occasionally glancing back at his door as if it would suddenly become unlocked. Eventually, he was shaking so much he had to sit and take a breath.

He was losing control. How could he possibly fix this situation? What could he say to Victoria to convince her to change him back? What would happen if somebody came by to check up on them? Who would believe him, the way he looked now, over Victoria?

He almost didn’t believe it himself.

The book. Carter scrambled, pulling open his backpack and grabbing the book.

Gibberish. Still gibberish. Page after page of words he couldn’t read. He got to the end of the book and flipped back to the front.

An uncertain knock at the door caused Carter to yelp and drop the book. He covered his mouth, but the sound had already escaped him.

For a moment there was silence, and then a soft voice came from the other side of the door.

“Carter?” Victoria asked.

Carter didn’t answer. He picked up the book and set it down on his desk before walking up to the door.

He placed his hand on the knob, but didn’t unlock it at first. Then he sighed and opened the door

Victoria was standing there. She looked like she was about to apologize, but then shook her head and glared at Carter with determination, before her expression softened and she opened her mouth to say something.

After a moment, she finally said, “We’re going to watch a movie together.”

“Absolutely—”

“Please.”

Carter’s mouth hung open, the rest of his rebuttal forgotten. He stared at her, and she kept looking right at him.

He reasoned that it was probably better to keep a direct eye on her anyway. At the very least, he could still browse the internet on his phone.

“Alright, fine,” he said, “Give me a minute.”

“Oh… okay,” Victoria said, “You… will you get snacks?”

“Sure,” he said, closing the door on her.

Carter quickly returned the book to his backpack and grabbed his phone. He made to put it in his pocket, but only the pocket-less back of the skirt greeted him.

Carter clenched his fists in anger, but relaxed when the long nails started to bit into his skin. He’d simply have to carry the phone in his hand.

He could hear Victoria in the living room looking through DVDs as he entered the kitchen. He dreaded to think of what girly piece of shit she was going to subject him to. Probably a Disney movie if he was lucky. She was just eleven, after all.

The popcorn was easy enough to fine, but Carter had to push aside a lot of food in the pantry to find the candy. It was all the way at the top and back, where their parents hoped they wouldn’t find it. Or maybe just Victoria. She had much more of a sweet tooth than Carter did.

He kept all the sour and spicy candy for himself, piling the sweet stuff into Victoria’s bowl like she’d want. He frowned at the idea of rewarding her with candy for her actions, but whatever. Maybe she’d get a stomachache and learn something.

Victoria gave Carter a small “thank you” when he passed her the bowl of candy, but he merely grunted in response as he sat down on the couch beside her. He separated them with the popcorn bucket.

“You ready?” Victoria asked, practically bounding up and down.

“Sure, why not?”

Victoria seemed to falter, but grabbed the remote and turned the TV on to show what movie she’d picked out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah!” she practically cried, “I thought we could watch this now and then see the sequel when it comes out.”

Carter ignored the suggestion, since he was planning to see the movie with his friends when they first got the opportunity.

Still, he set his phone to the side for now. His friends could wait a while for a response if it meant getting to watch Chris Pratt and a talking raccoon break out of jail and save a planet.

It wasn’t long, though, before the reality of his situation started getting to him. He shifted, trying to get his legs into a comfortable position. Sliding down the seat shifted the bra, and he had to adjust it slowly in a way that Victoria wouldn’t notice. Every time he leaned in his hair fell in his eyes, and when he tried to push it away his nails would scrape across his forehead. Little annoyances, the lot of them. The only reprieve from his discomfort was the action on screen and Victoria’s distracting excitement at the film

Come to think of it, this movie was PG-13, and kind of long at that. Carter was beginning to think that Victoria was using the situation to get away with seeing a film their parents wouldn’t have allowed her to otherwise. Which was pretty silly to think, because of course that’s what she was doing, and Carter had straight up allowed it to happen.

Still, at least he’d gotten to watch it again. So the weekend might be ruined, and his enjoyment of the movie slightly tainted by this experience, but at least something good had come out of today.

The credits began to play and Carter started shifting around, trying to stretch without moving his body too much.

“Did you like it?”

“Uh-huh,” Carter mumbled, hating the way his voice sounded as he did it.

“So you think we can see the sequel when it comes out?” she asked, almost on the edge of her seat in anticipation.”

Carter didn’t respond, and Victoria seemed to understand what he was saying. Her face fell and she dropped back into the plush seating.

Carter sighed.

“Maybe,” he said, and Victoria lit up.

“Maybe,” he repeated, “Mom and dad probably won’t like it.”

Victoria’s expression was uncertain, but she was still smiling.

“So,” she began, “I was thinking about what else we can do today. I could of wanted to braid your hair. And then maybe we can try on some clothes and see what they look like on you…”

She trailed off before Carter could say anything. He’d balled his hands into fists, and his glare was probably more frightening than stern.

Then, he blew up.

“Do you think this is some kind of game?” he cried, “Look at me! Fucking look at me!” He was standing now. “Does what I want mean anything too you?! Do you just not care about my free will?! Am I just some sort of doll to you?!”

Victoria looked to be on the verge of tears. She’d shrunken back into the seat as far as she could go.

“No!” she shouted, “That’s not fair! It’s not a big deal!”

“How is this not a big deal? You made me into a fucking girl! Do you think I wanted this?! Do you think I want to go play fucking dress up with a little brat who keeps threatening me?!”

“You… you can’t… it’s just for fun.” But her voice was getting smaller. “Sisters. You and me. Our little secret.” Carter could barely make out her last words.

“I’m not your sister,” he told her, “I don’t even want to be your brother. You need to—”

The sound of a ringing phone broke him off.

His wide-eyed expression of fear was mirrored exactly by Victoria. For a moment, the two of them locked eyes while the kitchen phone rang on.

Carter narrowed his eyes, while Victoria narrowed hers.

Carter took off running, but Victoria had leapt from the sofa and managed to slide around him. He grabbed at her, but the skirt bound his legs and he couldn’t stay balanced. His knee hit the floor before the rest of him did, causing him to swear loudly and grab his injured knee.

“Hey mom!” he heard Victoria say. She was looking right at him through the kitchen archway.

“No, Carter’s here,” she said, “But he’s feeling a little sick. Keeps blowing his nose and feels super-tired. You want to talk to him?”

Carter growled, but she just held out the phone to him.

Slowly, Carter got to his feet, blood pounding hard in his ears.

He jerked the phone out of her hands and, shaking, held it up to his ear.

He cleared his throat. Twice. Three times, and tried to make his voice sound as deep and sickly as possible.

“Hi mom,” he said, heart bouncing around his chest.

“Carter? Is that you? You sound terrible.”

“Yeah… I’m fine. Mostly resting. Watching Victoria. Trying not to get close to her.”

He glared at Victoria, who shrunk a little under his gaze.

“If you need us to come home…”

“No!” he quickly replied, losing control of his voice for a moment, “It’s… too long a drive for you guys to quit and come home so early. I’ll be fine. The neighbors are there if I need anything.”

As if, he thought.

The phone was silent for a few moments, and Carter’s stomach turned.

“Alright dear,” his mom said, and Carter’s knees gave out in relief, “We’ll be back tomorrow night. Try not to move around too much. I’ve got to go now, but your father and I love you two.”

“You too,” Carter replied, hanging up and hanging his head.

There was silence, then Carter looked up at Victoria.

“That was dangerously stupid,” he said, “What if she didn’t believe me?”

Victoria didn’t answer at first, and then only responded with, “But she did.”

Carter stood back up and tossed the phone to her.

“Change me back now,” he said.

For a moment, it looked like she was going to give in. But then she shook her head.

Carter turned around and walked back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Once he was sure the spell book was still in his backpack, Carter backed up against the wall and slid down, ignoring the way his shirt rode up his back as he did so.

It took a while for his breathing to slow down. The door was locked and he felt like he should block it with the desk. There was no way a simple lock was going to stop her when she decided to burst through his door and…

A girlish whimper escaped him, despite Carter’s best attempt to contain it.

He hated her. He did. She changed him, and then threatened him when he called her out on it.

And she was probably already planning another spell to act on her threats.

What had happened to his baby sister?

How much worse was it going to get?

Carter crawled over to his backpack and pulled out the book. It was still incomprehensible. The pages were thick, but he thought he had a pair of scissors in his room somewhere. If he could tear out most of them, he might be able to get to the fireplace without Victoria realizing what he was doing.

She’d try to stop him, probably hurt him in the process, but she’d be safe from learning anything new from the damned thing.

A knock at t door caused him to jump.

Carter sat still, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath.

“Carter?”

He didn’t respond.

“Carter, I’m… I’m sorry.”

He turned to face the door.

“About everything,” she continued, “I thought we were going to have fun. I didn’t want to hurt you. And I…”

Carter waited.

“I’m sorry that I lied. I can’t undo the spell.”—Carter’s blood chilled—“It wears off after twenty-four hours.”

Carter relaxed and started breathing again. He stood up and slowly walked over to the door.

“I just… she started sniffling, “I wanted to spend time together. I knew you wouldn’t want to so I found a way to… I thought you’d be interested in what it was like…”

Carter’s hand was on the doorknob, but he didn’t unlock the door. Part of him wanted so hard for this to be a trap, so he could ignore her and start tearing pages out of the book.

“And I… I…”

He heard a sob come through the door, followed by another.

God damn it.

Carter opened the door slowly, peering around it at Victoria. She had her palms pressed against her eyes, but looked up at him when the door opened. Her eyes were red and swollen, with tears streaking down her cheeks.

Carter sat leaning over his knees, which were pressed together so his panties weren’t visible beneath his skirt. The TV was on and the commercials were droning on, but he was looking at Victoria.

She was sitting beside him, off to the side so she wasn’t too close. She was looking at him too, some disposed-of tissues on the side table nearby. Her eyes were still a little red and puffy, and she looked… defeated.

Carter sighed. He was so bored.

“So…” he said, shifting in his seat and trying not to ask about magic, “How’s school?”

Victoria was silent for a moment as she mulled the question over, then responded with a grunt.

“Sure, me too.”

Carter thought back on what she said through the door. If Victoria was telling the truth, then the spell would wear off on its own by tomorrow. Maybe. If she’d read that in the book and never tested it, there was no way to know for sure.

“Any other movies you want to watch?” he asked quickly.

“Not really,” Victoria mumbled, turning to stare blankly at the TV screen, “You?”

“Not really.”

They were quiet for a while before Victoria said, “There’s nothing to do in this house.”

“No, there’s not,” Carter agreed.

“We could go play in the woods,” she suggested.

“I really don’t want to leave the house right now,” Carter told her.

She nodded.

Carter really didn’t want to ask her about magic.

“Any idea what you want for dinner?”

“Chinese?”

“Alright.”

Carter had had no intention of—

“What exactly can you do with that magic book?”

At first, he thought Victoria wasn’t going to answer but she finally muttered, “You know. Stuff.”

“Give me one example,” he demanded.

“Well… I can walk on walls?”

“Geez. How long does that last?”

“About five minutes?”

“So what’s the point?”

“Running away, I think.”

“Oh. Anything else?”

She shrugged.

“Victoria?”

“I mean… there’s a lot of stuff in there. I’ve only tried some of it.”

“What kind of stuff haven’t you tried?”

“Like… some spells require burning stuff or like… last too long.”

“How long?”

“Permanently?”

“Like what?”

“Like stuff. Like… I dunno.”

She was refusing to talk about the dangerous things in there, he was sure of it. And that made his stomach turn.

He didn’t press the matter, and she didn’t elaborate.

Carter adjusted his shirt, and then fixed his socks as well.

After a few moments, Victoria let out a sigh and glanced up at the clock. Carter followed her gaze. It was just coming up on three. There were a good few hours before dinner.

Carter pulled his legs up onto the couch and folded them under himself.

There was a show on TV, but Carter couldn’t bring himself to care about the characters long enough to keep his interest.

Finally, he asked, “So what exactly did you mean when you said ‘trying on clothes’ earlier?”

Victoria snapped to attention.

“Wha—? Um… well, I thought we could see what happens to the clothes as you put them on. Since the spell changes clothes to match how you look. So we’d be… um, playing dress up.”

Her cheeks were red and she refused to look right at Carter, as if the thought of watching her brother play dress up was only now something she found embarrassing to think about.

“What makes you so sure everything won’t turn out the same as this outfit?”

“It might,” she said, shrugging, “But it’d be a pretty useless disguise, then. And sneakers and sandals wouldn’t become the same thing, right?”

Carter nodded and stood up.

“Do… do you want to do this?”

Carter’s suppressed a groan, but nodded.

“Might as well,” he said, “But I don’t want you to watch me change.”

“No!” she blurted out, “Of course not.”

She was blushing even harder than before.

Carter returned to his room slowly, turning the idea over in his head as his stomach turned in sync. It probably wasn’t too late to give up and turn to a single-player game for the rest of the day. Victoria seemed to be too broken to care.

He had promised, though. Kinda. She’d thrown the idea at him, but he did softball it back to her.

So Carter grabbed five or six different shirts and a few different shorts and pants. His sneakers and sandals as well.

He decided not to grab any more underwear. Bad enough he’d have to see himself wearing panties at all. He wasn’t going to tempt fate any further towards putting him into a thong.

When Carter checked, Victoria was still sitting on the couch in the living room, fidgeting and glancing around at nothing.

Carter let out what might have been either a groan or a sigh before locking himself into the bathroom.

He gave one last glance down at his shirt, hoping that this particular shirt would still look cool and edgy when he put it back on after all this.

Turning his back to the mirror, Carter grabbed a tee shirt and slid it on. When it was settled, it wasn’t as snug as the other shirt, but it was clearly a thinner fabric, and now a soft blueish green instead of the strong forest green it had been. It was also very, very clear that he was wearing a bra under it.

He undid and dropped the denim skirt and slid into a pair of pants.

“Oh god!”

As soon as he had it buttoned, his pants had collapsed into themselves until they were constricting his legs. It took a moment for Carter to regain his balance, and then he dared to glance down. He could indeed see every curve in his hips and legs. A brief glance backward showed his ass to be very prominently displayed as well.

I felt less naked in a skirt, he thought.

When he finally managed to sit down on the toilet, he pulled his sneakers over and slid them on. Even before they’d been laced up, they’d gotten smaller and changed from bold red to soft pink.

Fortunately, as Victoria had predicted, the clothes he’d taken off had returned to normal. He reminded himself that this was only temporary, but as he checked himself out in the mirror the thought did not seem to comfort the scared girl reflected back at him.

It’s just like looking at an older version of your sister, he told himself.

That thought did quell his teenage discomfort at being around a cute girl, but did nothing to make the situation any less icky for him.

No use putting it off, he supposed.

As he tried to steady his breathing, Carter left the bathroom and returned to the living room.

“Oh… cool,” Victoria said. Her shoulders were tensed and her faced scrunched in uncertainty, but she was leaning forward and invested in what she was looking at.

Carter could sympathize with both her discomfort and her interest. He let her take it all in, as he just stood there and squirmed.

A silence began to draw out, and Carter gave a fake laugh to disrupt it.

“I’ll try something else, them” he offered, and Victoria nodded.

Carter next tried one of his button-down shirts, which didn’t change much beyond becoming thin enough to almost be translucent. The next pair of shorts became a ruffled skirt, which was actually a refreshing change from the leg-stranglers.

He also tore off his socks and slid into his sandals, which became incredibly strappy and tight.

Fashion over comfort, he guessed, for as little sense as it made to him.

Now that the initial tension was over, Victoria was clearly more relaxed and bouncy. He gave her a minute to look it over, commenting to herself about the way it looked at him.

For his part, Carter just tried to stand there and look more comfortable than he felt.

“Wait. Tuck in your shirt,” Victoria said, suddenly addressing him specifically.

“Uh… okay, but turn around.”

Victoria looked surprised at his command but did so anyway.

“Okay, there,” he announced when he was finished.

“Oh, that’s much better.”

The next shirt Carter tried became short enough to expose most of his stomach, so he quickly tore it off and grabbed a polo shirt from the pile. That simply became a bit more form-fitting. Again, the pants became incredibly tight, to the point where he feared a wrong move would tear them apart. His sneakers became a little different this time, with little butterfly patterns along the side, but didn’t change dramatically more than the last time or anything.

“I want to see a jacket this time!”

Carter let his shoulder’s drop. He did not like the idea of his little sister choosing his outfits for him. But he trudged his way into his bedroom, loathing the way these pants made him move his hips while he walked, and grabbed a coat from the closet.

He felt regret for the tank top as soon as he pulled it on. It was bad enough of a reminder that he no longer had the frame he used to, but it was cut just low enough for him to see the tops of the fatty newcomers to his body. He looked away and slipped the jacket on. His shorts again became a skirt, and the sandals did become entirely different from before, though still majorly strappy.

“How about a sweater?”

That seemed fine, until Carter realized just how much the sweater actually conformed to his body’s new curves.

Almost dreading the outcome, he pulled on a pair of khaki pants, and was amazed when they merely shrunk a little bit into a pair of capris, ending halfway down his lower leg. He made a note of these particular pants for later and went out to see Victoria.

“Wait, why aren’t you wearing shoes?” she asked.

“They weren’t changing all that much anyway,” he said, “Wasn’t that the point? To see the clothes change?”

“Yeah… hold on. Wait here a second.”

“Victoria? Where are you—don’t go into my room!” he called after her.

“I’m not!” she cried back, and that did not ease Carter’s worries.

He followed the sound of her voice, and found her in their mother’s closet picking out shoes.

“No, I am not wearing mom’s shoes.”

“Oh come on,” she whined at him, “I just want to see if they change more than the bra did or not.”

Carter squirmed a little bit at the mention of the bra. But even that didn’t make him as uncomfortable as the thought of putting on women’s shoes.

“No,” he insisted.

“But you wore the bra!”

Carter squirmed some more. The bra had been a compromise. This would be giving in.

“I did it because I had to.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I didn’t want to either.”

Victoria began to huff, and Carter could feel an argument coming on.

So he swallowed his pride one more time today.

“Fine.”

Victoria’s jaw dropped.

“But I’m not wearing heels.”

Victoria made a face, but muttered, “Fine.”

“And I’m only wearing each pair once.”

“Okay…”

“And no more than three.”

Victoria gave him a look, but nodded.

She picked out three pairs and pushed them into his hands before storming off.

Carter, left alone in the closet, just shook his head and turned out the light.

This time, the tank top was a different pattern, but still clung to his boobs a lot more than Carter would have liked. He unhappily took off the capris and set them off to the side with his original outfit, and slipped into another pair of pants that clamped down tight on his lower body as soon as he buttoned them.

With socks back on, Carter looked over the shoes at his disposal. He settled on the boots, which were no sooner on his feet than had transformed into a pair of suede ankle boots.

He didn’t understand the appeal. One trip on the carpet and he was going to break his ankle.

A shiver ran up Carter’s spine. He could not go to the hospital looking like this.

Victoria was still scowling when he came out, but it wavered as she examined him.

Carter glanced at the clock.

3:12

A long way until his twenty-four hours were through.

Unlike the other shorts, the next pair actually became a very clingy pair of denim short shorts, showing off even more of Carter’s legs than the skirts did. He considered sliding out of them, but it was getting a little hard to care.

The tee shirt was nothing special, but when he pulled on the next pair of shoes they instantly became what he recognized as ballet flats. He rolled his eyes and took them off to get rid of his socks.

As long as it’s harmless, it doesn’t matter, he told himself.

It didn’t matter how emasculating this all was, it wasn’t like his sister was sitting out there with a camera to blackmail him later or something.

Victoria clearly liked this outfit more than the others, sitting up straight and taking it all in as best she could.

It was there that Carter realized she had to know how similar they looked, and was probably using this to measure what she’s look like in five years. The thought was somehow simultaneously creepy and endearing, and he didn’t like that it wasn’t wholly creepy to him.

There was only one more pair of shoes left. This time, much to his relief, his pants became a long, flowing skirt instead of tight pants.

Indoctrination through discomfort, he thought briefly, but dismissed it.

His shirt, however, had become a long-sleeved shirt that cut off at the bottom of his ribs, exposing his whole tummy.

I just don’t even care anymore.

This time, it took much longer to figure out what his mother’s shoes had transformed into. They were familiar, but the name “Mary Janes” escaped him.

He returned to the living room, where Victoria “ooh”ed predictably at the sight of him.

“I like it,” she told him.

“I’m glad,” he half-snarked, folding his arms, “What else can we do around here?”

“That’s it?”

He’d done this eight times now!

“I’m basically out of clothes to try on,” he said.

She was silent for a few moments, clearly deep in thought, and it took Carter longer than he’d admit to realize how dangerous that was.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Victoria had already stood up.

“I’ll get one of mom’s dresses for you to try on.”

Carter stamped a foot into the carpet.

“No! What is wrong with you?! I am not—repeat not—wearing a goddamn dress!”

She looked so hurt.

“But… we were having fun…”

“You ordering my around is not ‘fun’!”

Victoria clenched her fists.

“Well I only have to order you around because you’re a bad sister!”

“I am not your sister!” he howled.

“You’re just a bad person!” Tears had begun to run down her face. “Why do you have to ruin this for me? Why couldn’t you just play along?”

Carter kept yelling, but she barreled past him and into her room, slamming the door loud enough to cause him to stutter and stop.

For a moment, Carter stood there. Only when he felt collected enough not to scream himself hoarse did he return to the bathroom and grab his clothes. He threw them all onto the bed and collected up his mother’s shoes.

As he placed the shoes back in the closet, hoping that he correctly guessed which order they went in, he scolded himself for having ever agreed to do this stupid thing. How had he let himself get so caught up in her delusion. Of course agreeing to any one of her stupid demands would only give her the illusion of power over him. He wasn’t going to feel guilty about this.

Frankly, she needed to be called out on her bullshit. Before it got to her head and she was forcing him to spend all his time and money serving her absurd fantasies. She’d probably try to convince him to let her make the spell permanent before the weekend was over!

He refused to feel guilty for what he’s said,

The spell probably got stronger the more he played into it, anyway. The thought made Carter want to throw up. It could be changing the very way he thought and he didn’t know it.

It didn’t matter. He was going to grab a pair of sweatpants and finish the night out with Call of Duty. Even if he had to do it single player.

…

God, why did he feel so shitty for making her upset?

Carter sat down and leaned back against the wall of the closet, closing his eyes to think. He was right—he knew that much. But he also knew that there was a way to be in charge without being a bully. He knew why she was wrong, but he never even tried to really explain it to her.

Everything about the way he handled the situation was wrong, and for that he felt guilty.

And Victoria definitely deserved and apology for that.

Carter sighed and opened his eyes, only to freeze in shock. His sigh had sounded very family, as if he’d been hearing it not just today but much longer. And the closet, for some reason, looked bigger than it had a moment ago.

Looking down confirmed his fears. He was in a child’s body. And when he ran into his parent’s bathroom to check, nearly stumbling over the long skirt he was still wearing, the mirror confirmed his fears.

He was still wearing the same outfit, although the shirt was just a normal long-sleeved shirt now, but he looked just like Victoria.

Admitting that he’d been wrong made him transform into Victoria!

No.

No, that was stupid.

She did this.

“Victoria!” he cried, storming down the hall.

He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he was going to—

Why wasn’t he moving?

Carter was stuck in position, completely paralyzed mid-stride.

Oh shit, he thought, What happened? Why can’t I move?

He was stuck, but he still feel his insides turning and his heart sinking.

The sound of a knob turning got his attention. Victoria came out of her room and closed the door, wearing shoes herself now. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her face was all read and there were tears all over her cheeks. She walked towards his room, not sparing so much as a glance or word in his direction.

Carter heard closed doors open and a few drawers pulled out before he heard the sound of his backpack being unzipped. Soon after, Victoria came out out of his room with her magic book in his hands.

So it was just badly hidden after all.

“You should have listened to me,” she said, rubbing at her eyes with her spare hand, “But you never learn anything. You’re just a jerk.”

She turned away so he couldn’t see her face.

“It’s only for a few minutes, but I told you I would do something to you. Maybe a day alone with nobody to care about you will get you to finally understand how I feel.”

She walked away, and then he couldn’t see her anymore.

Carter heard the sound of the back door opening, then closing.

She did not come back into view.

But she had to be bluffing, right? She wouldn’t leave. What would that accomplish? What would any of this accomplish? What the hell did she mean by any of that?! How dare he accuse him of ignoring her?! After all that she he did for her today alone?!

Oh god, it hadn’t worn off yet. He was still frozen.

It would only be a few minutes, he told himself.

Unless she was lying.

Unless she didn’t know for sure that it would wear off at all.

But eventually Carter collapsed and fell to the ground. He pulled himself up and ran to the living room, then the kitchen, and the bathroom, and then all the other rooms just to be sure.

She was gone.

Carter dropped to the floor and sat there.

He had to find her.

A friend’s house? That was the most obvious place. She could just pretend she was just coming over for the afternoon, and maybe spend the night. But then her friend’s parents would want to call her parents, and that wouldn’t work, so…

As Carter thought, his eyes wandered. It was so weird being the size of an eleven year old. Even from the floor, it was clear how much bigger everything looked.

She might be hanging out at the neighborhood pool… but not while carrying the book; it might get wet.

Even weirder was, if not for Victoria’s long hair and one other, obviously missing thing, Carter couldn’t really tell that this was any different from an eleven-year-old boy’s body. If he had the right haircut and the right clothes, he’d probably look like he did five years ago.

For all he knew, Victoria was just sitting in the car and pouting, but if she really wanted to hurt him she’d need to get somewhere he couldn’t find her just by looking out the window.

Now that he was looking closely, there were a lot more subtle differences in the way his clothes were designed now than when they were for an older teenager. He hadn’t even noticed before in his hurry, but the bra had become a child’s camisole underneath his shirt.

The only place she could go in the woods was…

Carter stood up quickly and ran out the back door, barely stopping to close it behind him.

The treehouse wasn’t very far into the woods, but it had been a while. It took Carter about ten minutes longer than it should have to get there with how many times he needed to retrace his steps. He moved quickly, kicking up dead leaves and keeping watch for other people about that he’d have to avoid. Once or twice he tripped over his skirt and tumbled.

He was low on time. The shadows of the trees were getting longer, and the light against the ground was noticeably tinted yellow.

When he finally found the treehouse, Carter hesitated. What if she wasn’t there? Because unless he’d been wrong and she had run to a friend’s house, that meant she’d be spending the night alone in an unknown, unsafe location.

As much as he hated her right now, he’d rather get into trouble because she told the neighbors he scared her away.

The treehouse itself was pretty dilapidated. It had been three years since Carter and his friends had last used it, and even then they’d been using it since they were nine and their families put it together for them. A short four-year tenure for the treehouse, if not for the face that Victoria and her friends had moved in afterward to girl it up when the boys left.

He approached slowly, trying not to step on any leaves or twigs. But his shoes kept sinking into the wet dirt and it was clear they were made to look good and not endure any kind of serious trekking.

She’d probably heard him stomping through the leaves on the way here, but he still walked slowly as not to alert her of his presence. There were curtains over the windows, so even though he kept his gaze trained on them he couldn’t see anything inside.

Once he reached the rope ladder, though, stealth was out of the question. Hoping not to slip off with the slippery shoes he was wearing, he took a deep breath and started climbing.

There was the sound of scuffling inside. So she was here.

Or, at least, he hoped it was here.

And that she was alone.

He pushed the trapdoor open and pulled himself inside.

Victoria was easy enough to find. She was curled up into a corner and sniveling, the book clutched firmly to her chest. She was glaring at him, but didn’t maintain eye contact.

She was angry, but Carter wasn’t entirely sure she was angry at him. At least, not exclusively.

Carter closed the trapdoor, causing Victoria to jump when it slammed shut. He sat down on the bench, which was covered in dirty, girly cushions.

There was silence for a time, broken only by the occasional sniffle from Victoria.

“Why did you do this?” Carter asked.

Victoria gave an empty laugh before saying, “I just wanted to spend time together. That’s all. If I left you alone, you’d just spend the entire weekend on your computer and pretending I don’t exist. Just like always. It sucks not having a brother or sister who wants to be a brother or sister.”

Carter didn’t want to look her in the eye after that. It was true enough that he’d wanted the weekend to himself; he still felt like he’d earned that much. It wasn’t like she couldn’t have asked to do something together any other weekend.

But he also couldn’t convince himself that he’d have wanted to say yes to any such offer.

“Why not just tell me this, then?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t have listened,” she said, “Or just called me a liar.”

“That’s not—”

“Ever since middle school started,” she continued, “all the kids stopped hanging out together. They found other friends. I didn’t, and nobody in the neighborhood wanted to stay my friend. Now there’s nobody to come over and play. I wanted just one friend, and I wanted it to be you. At least you might be able to tell me what to do about it.”

Carter was having a hard time blinking away tears. It must have been the child’s body that was causing him to be so emotional. There was no way he’d…

Dear God, that stung.

“Why weren’t you just honest with me at the start?” he asked, wiping away the tears from his eyes now. “I would have believed you about that.”

“I…” she started crying again, “I was afraid you’d say I was just a loser or something. That I didn’t deserve any friends for being so weak.”

“Victoria…”

“I thought… if I made you act like an older brother or sister, you’d see what you were doing wrong. And then I’d get to spend time with a sister for once. I was always jealous of Amy and Tiff for having older sisters.”

Carter was silent. He wondered if it was him spending so little time with Victoria that made her want a big sister, or if she’d have felt like that anyway.

How was it she had a family and still ended up a lost and lonely kid?

“Did you ever talk to mom about this?”

“She’s always just saying to ‘be patient’ and ‘try talking to people’. She doesn’t care.”

“She cares,” Carter said quickly, “She just doesn’t… know what it’s like to be in middle school. It’s been like… a hundred years since she was in school.”

Victoria laughed at that, despite herself.

At least she could still laugh, Carter thought. He felt pretty shitty himself, to learn that all this was happening to his sister and he’d done nothing but make it worse.

He wasn’t ready to forgive her for what she did. But he understood where her heart had been this whole time.

“So what about the spell?” he asked.

“Sorry about that,” she whispered.

“No, does it really last twenty-four hours? It will wear off, right?”

“Yeah. I was telling the truth about that. I never got good at dispelling things.”

“Well, can’t you at least try?”

“No!” she cried, causing him to jump, “I don’t know what it will do to you!”

Carter took a moment to recompose himself and changed the topic.

“So… how does the spell work, then?”

Victoria glanced down at the book in her hands and set it off to the side.

“There’s a spell,” she said, “I have to take a picture of the person being transformed, place it on top of a picture of the person you should look like, and rip them both at once while saying the spell. I didn’t have a second picture of you, so I had to use a different spell to fix the first picture.”

“Convenient,” he mused, “Wait… you need a picture? Then how come I looked like just a girl version of me the first time?”

Victoria opened her mouth, but didn’t answer immediately. Then she shrunk down even further and said, “I used mom’s high school yearbook picture.”

Carter wasn’t entirely sure he was going to be able to keep his balance. His vision was pretty blurry and he could almost feel vomit crawling up his throat.

He saw his teenage mom in her underwear.

There was not enough therapy in the world…

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he eventually managed to stutter out.

It was getting pretty dark in the treehouse. Carter glanced out the window to see the ground shrouded in darkness and only a few beams of light dancing through the trees.

Victoria was still curled up in the corner and walking gently. Occasionally a whimper would escape her.

“We need to get home pretty soon,” Carter said, “I don’t want to be stranded in the dark. I don’t think either of us remembers the way home well enough for that.”

Victoria just nodded and slowly stood up, grabbing the book as well.

Carter was the first down the rope ladder. Briefly he considered taking off the shoes, but then he’d be walking on the cold ground with nothing to protect his bare feet.

Plus, they’d return to full size and he didn’t want to have to carry a pair of his mother’s dirty shoes.

Victoria followed Carter slowly, meaning that they weren’t outpacing the darkness like Carter wanted. Victoria clearly wasn’t in a good place, though, barely responding to Carter’s questions with only a grunt or two.

Carter was worried about her, but he was also worried about getting lost in the woods or somebody they knew seeing them and taking a picture.

Still, there was probably nothing to be done about it. They made it back to the backyard and in the house without too much difficulty.

The twins kicked off their shoes, one pair transforming back to normal except for being caked in dirt (Carter would have to do something about that before their parents got home), and Carter told Victoria to wait while he ordered Chinese for delivery. Neither particularly felt like leftover pizza right now.

They might have a lot of leftovers to explain to their parents when this weekend was over. But of all the things on Carter’s plate at the moment, that was definitely the single-least worrying.

Once the order was confirmed, Carter sighed and leaned back into his chair. Now that he was wearing a less-restrictive skirt, he had gone back to stretching out his legs as he sat. His arms were a little sore; at his height now, the desk came all the way up to his chest, so he had to keep his arms up high to reach the keyboard.

Now that he had a moment to reflect, the surreality of being his sister’s clone was finally starting to sink in.

Carter returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch beside Victoria. She tensed up a bit, but didn’t say anything and didn’t scoot away. The spell book was sitting on the side table, out in the open and unguarded.

She wasn’t even trying to take control anymore. It was like she’d lost any agency whatsoever.

Maybe he wasn’t remembering everything correctly, but somehow Carter found that more frightening than anything else he’d encountered today.

“You want to watch TV?” he asked. He knew his voice must have sounded the exact same as hers, but coming from him it sounded different.

If he recorded it, he’d bet it would sound just like Victoria on the playback, though.

“Not really in the mood. Here.”

She gave him a weak toss of the remote.

Carter simply put it to the side and brushed some hair out of his face.

“Maybe next weekend we can do something to patch up the treehouse,” he said, “It’s probably still good enough that we can fix all the problems. Maybe install a glass window on top to look out at the stars? Or… the branches of the tree I guess. Never mind that part.”

Victoria just grunted and slid down in her seat.

Carter sighed and flicked on the TV to a random channel. Sound and light filled the room, but it didn’t really improve the mood. Carter let his shoulders drop and sank down in his seat as well. He began to rub his head against the couch, causing his hair to frizz up with static.

“So my friend Ben and I have been fighting about this game…” he started.

Victoria gave him a weird look.

“…it’s all pretty stupid,” he admitted, “But things are still pretty tense between us. He won’t even let me copy his homework. Which sucks because Mrs. Johnson is a bi—er… she’s really throwing on the homework.”

A chuckle escaped Victoria, but she crossed her arms and looked away.

“Mr. Cecil is just as bad. Less homework, but we have an essay due every two weeks.”

“Ugh… I hope I don’t have to take his class.”

“He teaches geometry.”

“What?” she turned to face him. Carter was keenly aware that she didn’t have to look up towards him anymore. “How can he do that? He can’t make you write an essay for a math class.”

“I know, right?”

“That’s just as bad as Ms. Miller. She assigns all the homework at the beginning of the week, but we can’t do any of it because she hasn’t gone over it all yet.”

Carter winced.

“I remember Ms. Miller. Does she still have that mole on her left cheek?”

“Well duh, how do you get rid of a mole?”

“Makeup?” he offered, “Cosmetic surgery?”

Victoria laughed, and Carter joined her. They were laughing at the expense of someone else, but they were laughing again.

They continued, and dinner arrived about halfway through their conversation. Carter, the eldest despite his appearance, had to handle the delivery ma. He also had to lie and say that their mother was home and in the shower to alleviate the man’s concern.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Victoria eagerly awaiting to tell him something new and continue the conversation. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile.

They talked through dinner, though they did take a… probably inevitable turn.

“You know… Alex and Daisy would probably freak out if they woke up in each other’s bodies.”

“What about that cheerleader down the street? What’s her name? Can’t you just imagine her suddenly looking six feet tall?”

“The first thing she’d do is pass out in terror.”

The two laughed, and Victoria put down her fork, her plate empty.

Carter added, “You know that if we ever did any of that, we’d have to tell them about the magic and they’d just want in?”

“Yeah,” Victoria admitted, “But it’s fun to think about.”

Carter nodded in agreement.

Victoria shuffled about in her seat a bit.

“Hey… can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you… brush my hair for me?”

“Um… okay. Sure, yeah. Just let me put away the dishes and leftovers.”

Carter met Victoria in her room. She was sitting on her bed with a brush that she handed to him.

This was pretty surreal, Carter thought. If not for everything else that had already happened today, he’d be almost certain this was a dream.

He sat behind her and placed the brush uncertainly on the top of her head.

“Ahh! No!”

“What?” he asked, “I thought you wanted this?”

“You have to start from the bottom so it doesn’t get tangled.”

Carter rolled his eyes but did as she asked, pulling the brush through her hair and moving it around every few strokes.

“So…” Victoria began, “Is it really that bad, being a girl?”

Carter stopped for a moment to consider the question, and continued brushing.

“It isn’t being a girl that’s the problem, he told her, glancing at his small hands and hairless arms, “It’s just that you forced me into it and tried to control my behavior. I probably wouldn’t have said yes if you’d asked me, I know, but it was still wrong of you to do.”

Victoria began to shrink underneath him.

“But…” Carter continued, trying to salvage the situation, “It did make me curios. So there’s good with the bad as well.”

Victoria didn’t respond, but it seemed like she was thinking it over.

“Hey, so… feel free to say no,” he began, “But, um… I was thinking…”

He definitely had her attention now.

“Can I try on one of your dresses?”

“Now you want to try on a dress?”

“It’s stupid. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…”

She got up from the bed and went to the closet, where she picked out a yellow dress and brought it back to Carter.

“Here, this is one of my favorites.”

Carter took the dress in his hands, his heart pounding ferociously in his chest. He stood up and looked toward the door.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

He returned to his own room and stripped out of his skirt and top before sliding the dress over his head.

It fit… perfectly, of course. And it still looked the same as when he was holding it.

He returned to Victoria, his stomach churning once again.

“Oh, so that’s what I look like,” she mused, “Except your hair’s a mess. Let me brush t.”

Carter followed her motion towards the bed and sat down. The feel of a brush through his long hair was a brand new sensation. But she was gentle, probably more gentle than he was with her own hair.

“So… if I’m wearing your clothes when the spell wears off… what happens to them?”

“Um… I guess they get torn up. You’re going to have to take it off before that.”

“Well I’m not wearing this forever,” Carter said, rolling his eyes.

Victoria finished brushing his hair and let it fall around his shoulders. He stood up and swayed a little, noticing how the dress and his hair responded to his movements.

“So what’s it like wearing a dress for the first time?” Victoria asked.

“A lot like wearing a skirt for the first time,” he replied, “Just… roomier. Like a toga or something,”

“Have you ever worn a toga before?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then how to you know what it feels like?!”

“Ugh.”

He sat back down on the bed, pulling his legs together so his knees touched. Victoria sat beside him, still looking at him for direction.

She still looked tense and uncertain, as if she were a deer waiting to bolt at any moment.

She still didn’t really feel comfortable around him.

He couldn’t leave this hanging over her head forever. Even if it meant that his heart wasn’t going to be in it.

“Victoria, I… I forgive you for what you did.”

Victoria looked stunned. Carter opened his mouth to say more, but she quickly grabbed him in a very tight hug. He started to object, but closed his mouth as she started sobbing in relief.

“Thank you,” she said, once she had stopped crying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He patted her on the back, insisting, “It’s okay. Just try not to get too many tears on your dress.”

Carter did give the dress back to her and changed into his own pajamas, which then immediately transformed into a bright pink ensemble decorated in cartoon kittens. When he got back into the living room where Victoria was waiting in her own pajamas, she looked as if she wanted to trade outfits.

“You sure we can’t have ice cream?” she asked, plopping down on the couch beside him.

“After all that candy earlier? No. We’d both feel sick.”

He changed the TV’s input to the DVD player and hit play, also stifling a yawn in the process.

“No we won’t. You’re my age now, remember? You’re not an old man anymore.”

“But I am in charge, and I remember being your age and thinking I could do the exact same thing. I couldn’t then and I couldn’t now.”

Victoria just rolled her eyes.

“I’m already letting you watch a second PG-13 movie today,” he reminded her, pointing at Iron Man on the menu screen, “We can have ice cream tomorrow.”

“Alright, fine,” she said, rubbing her eyes, “Just hit play already.”

It was barely 7:30 when they started the movie, but Carter saw Victoria yawn a few more times (it must have been contagious, because so was he) before she eventually just couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. And after such a long day, he couldn’t blame her. He was going to be out soon enough.

He quit the DVD and turned off the TV set, throwing the remote to the floor before leaning back himself.

Technically, there was still a full day of him looking like his sister to get through. And he might just go stir crazy sitting in this house all day. And there would be problems if their parents got home early or they had to leave the house themselves for some reason. And for all he know falling asleep made the spell permanent or something—though if that were the case it probably wouldn’t last twenty-four hours. But it was late and it was getting hard for him to care.

At the very least, he knew that he wouldn’t feel nearly as much outside his comfort zone tomorrow. And it would be a relief not to have his stomach doing backflips all day.

And, if he were being completely honest with himself, in the last few moments of consciousness remaining that he wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway: in a roundabout fashion, Victoria’s plan did work. They were indeed closer as siblings, and hopefully would be for the rest of their lives.

Nathan poked at his food with a fork. Part of him found it ironic that a Chinese American family was eating Chinese takeout for dinner, but his mind wasn’t really on the food.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” his mother asked from across the table. She was frowning, but it was concern in her eyes.

Nathan’s younger brother snickered, and Nathan cast him a dark look.

“I’m just not very hungry, I guess,” he lied. He hated lying to his mother, but he really didn’t want to talk about it.

“He’s upset because he still doesn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day,” Tyler chimed in.

Nathan stabbed his beef with his fork, looking down to hide his grimace.

“Tyler, stop antagonizing your brother and eat your dinner,” their father said.

Tyler grumbled something under his breath, but didn’t respond.

Nathan silently thanked his father, but he knew that Tyler was right. He was fifteen now and still didn’t have a girlfriend. All his friends were always talking about girls, but Nathan had such a hard time getting a girl to go out with him.

Not that he hadn’t tried, of course. He’d asked out four different girls this school year already, and each one had said no. And every time they did he wished he could just disappear and never have to try again. But with Valentine’s Day coming up, he felt even worse than usual.

Nathan finished his food in silence and asked to be dismissed. He dropped his plate and silverware (why didn’t people use chopsticks anymore? he wondered) in the kitchen sink and turned to head back to his room, but stopped. There was a pile of fortune cookies on the counter. He leaned over and swiped one, quickly disposing of the plastic wrapper before walking away.

But as he closed the door to his room, Nathan noticed something odd about this cookie. It was a darker color than normal cookies, almost brown instead of tan.

Colored fortune cookies, Nathan thought, Now there’s an idea.

Sitting down, he broke open the cookie and winced as it sent a slight jolt through his arms.

“Ow! Yeah, I would get the world’s only electrified fortune cookie.”

He at it all the same—it certainly didn’t taste any different from other fortune cookies. When he saw the fortune inside, however, he scowled.

True love will reveal itself to you in time, it read. Nathan rolled his eyes, but turned it over to read the translation on back anyway. It was he word “xìngbié,” which was Chinese for “gender.”

Nathan threw the fortune away and leaned back in his chair. He had a history quiz the very next day and still needed to study for it, as well as an English test on Friday. He didn’t have time to waste.

On the other hand…

I think I can squeeze in a shower before bed, he decided.

A shower might help him unwind a bit. He could study afterward. Locking himself in the bathroom, Nathan stripped out of his clothes, dropping his pants and shirt into the hamper, where they were followed by his socks and boxers.

The hot water felt good running down Nathan’s back and chest. He must have been tenser than he realized, because only now, at the end of the day, did it feel like he could truly relax his muscles.

Getting out of the shower though, Nathan could just barely stifle a yawn as he rubbed himself down with a towel.

Must be more tired than I thought, he realized. It was already getting difficult to keep his eyes open.

He looked around for a hairdryer for almost a full minute before remembering that he didn’t even own a hairdryer. His hair was barely an inch long, if he had to guess; he’d never have to go to such lengths to get it dry.

It took yet another minute to remember that he didn’t own a bathrobe either, and thus had absolutely nothing to wear when leaving the bathroom.

Nathan wrapped the towel around himself and returned to his room. He put on his boxers and a tee shirt for bed and went to the tiny three-level bookshelf to grab a book. It surprised him at first that there were only video games on the top shelf and magazines below that, as if it hadn’t always been that way. Only the bottom shelf had books, and they were all extra books about math and science that his parents got him for additional studying.

He wasn’t sure why he thought there’d be something to read for leisure.

Maybe Nathan really was just too tired. He moved his coat from lying on the bed to being draped over his desk chair and slid beneath the covers, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

But in his dreams Nathan felt that something was wrong. His body was being distorted, stretched and pulled in different directions. The world flashed by him, awash in hues of red and blue. And somewhere, mixed in with all of that, there was a face. It was a face he recognized, a face that filled him with a warm and tingling sensation. He focused on that face, and it helped him to drift into a more comfortable rest.

In the morning, Nathan didn’t feel the least bit rested. He was struggling to keep his eyes open even in the shower. If he didn’t perk up soon, he was going to have a hard time staying awake through his morning classes.

Shampoo, conditioner… where’s…?

There was no body wash on the shelf in the shower.

I don’t use body wash, Nathan realized, groaning. It was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it? He grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed himself down quickly.

A knock at the door, his mother, let him know that he was running out of time before the bus came. Nathan turned off the water and got out, grabbing a towel from the rack. He rubbed himself dry, but paused when he saw his stomach. It looked different… flatter? Sure, being Chinese, Nathan had always been smaller and thinner than other boys (much to their amusement and playful mockery), but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… wrong about him.

Again there was a knocking at the door, much more hurried this time. Nathan threw on his clothes and grabbed his toothbrush. At least, he thought it was his toothbrush. It was a different color than he remembered.

So it was going to be one of those days.

()()()()()()()

Morning bus rides were always pretty quiet, which gave Nathan a bit more time to rest his eyes before school actually started. Before he knew it, though, he was stuck in first period trying to pay attention to Geometry problems.

As he worked, Nathan found himself chewing on his pencil’s eraser. It tasted like rubber and that was disgusting; he wasn’t quite sure why he was doing it. It wasn’t a habit he’d ever had before today. But every time that he made himself stop, he would inevitably find himself chewing on his eraser again.

Maybe if I had some gum, he though, watching a girl discretely pull a stick from her purse. School rules about gum in class aside, it would be nice to have anything that could keep him from chewing his eraser.

But that wasn’t the only thing distracting him from doing the problems on his paper. Other things kept drawing his attention as well, like how the walls were two different shades of white, or the way the teacher’s feet were too big for the heels she was wearing.

“Chan!” the teacher called, jerking Nathan back to attention. She had written a question up on the board, and Nathan hadn’t gotten to around to answering that one yet.

Shit, he thought.

“Fourteen?” he guessed. There were a couple of guffaws from around the room, and the teacher rolled her eyes.

Mrs. Davis said something about paying more attention, but Nathan was already embarrassed enough without her helpful scolding.

By the time lunch finally rolled around, though, he was actually feeling a lot better. When he got out of the lunch line with his food, his friends had already made it to their usual table. He sat down next to Kyle and across from Jesse. Gavin gave him the briefest of “hello”s before going back to what he was saying before.

“Look,” Gavin said, “If the coach lets Ryans onto the team next year, we’re screwed. End of story. The guy can’t pass for shit.”

“He doesn’t have to pass,” Jesse said, “He just has to stand on the line and shoot when he gets the ball.”

“You’re just worried about not making it onto the team next year,” Kyle retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Gavin.

“As if that were something I actually had to worry about. Weren’t you going to try out for the lacrosse team?”

“I thought about it. I’m gonna spend the summer working at the auto shop. Chicks dig a guy who can fix cars.”

Nathan let out an internal groan.

But Gavin was quick to remind Kyle: “Last year you said that you were going to work as a chef for the summer, so you could open up your own restaurant. Something about ‘girls love a guy who can cook,’ right?”

Nathan bit his lip.

Kyle snorted and asked, “And I suppose both of you already got a girl for Valentine’s Day?”

“You know it,” Jesse said, “You know Danielle? The cheerleader?”

“That slut?” Kyle asked, trying to hold in a laugh. “You want to catch something?”

Nathan winced. His palms were hurting. Looking down, he saw his hands clenched into tight fists. He quickly relaxed, dropping his fork in the process.

“What about you?”

Nathan’s heart sank, but Kyle was looking at Gavin.

“I’m thinking about someone,” Gavin replied.

“Who?”

Nathan watched Gavin curiously. He looked embarrassed, like he didn’t want them to know who he was thinking of.

“It’s not important,” he said, “By the way, do either of you know what Mr. Gonzalez is putting on the test?”

And Nathan gave a small sigh of relief. He didn’t like the way his friends put so much a focus on getting girls. He just wished he could find a girlfriend for himself.

He turned and scanned the cafeteria for any girls that caught his interest. There was one blonde girl whom he recognized from his next period, but he couldn’t remember her name. She was sitting at a table with two other girls, both brunettes.

Kyle started coughing, getting Nathan’s attention. He assured them all that he was fine, but Nathan continued to watch him as he ate. Not because he was afraid that Kyle would choke on something else, though. He was looking at Kyle’s arms. They were just so hairy. And his hands seemed so big.

Nathan discreetly glanced at his own hands. They were freaking tiny by comparison. Yeah, sure, he had always been smaller than his friends, but his hands were small. Small like his mother’s hands. And even his father had noticeable hair on his arms, but Nathan’s weren’t like that at all.

The bell rang, signaling that it was time to go. Nathan cast one last glance over at the blonde girl’s table, but she was already gone. Maybe he’d say something to her during class.

()()()()()()()

Nathan put away the last of his homework with a light “hallelujah!” He’d finished everything he’d had to do and no one else was even home yet. Maybe it was time for a little break, to relax before he got started on his chores.

As he approached the bookshelf, however, Nathan thought there were a few less games on the top shelf than he remembered. It had always seemed packed, difficult to get any game off or back on, but now there was quite a bit of space between the games.

But that wasn’t what he was looking for anyway. On the next shelf down were a few books mixed in with mostly magazines. That seemed… odd. Like he couldn’t remember having reading books on his… bookshelf.

He grabbed a book at random—The Perks of Being a Wallflower—off the shelf. Or at least he thought it was at random. There was a bookmark sticking out of it, though he couldn’t quite remember the last time he had read it. He could barely remember what it was about.

Nathan sat back down in his chair and opened the book to the marked page. As he read, he knew he had read this all before, even though it felt… weird. He couldn’t shake the feeling he knew more about the book than he was supposed to.

Nathan stared down at his open sock drawer in confusion. This absolutely was not the way that it had looked the day before. He’d had maybe a dozen white socks and a few black dress socks. He certainly had not had three dozen pairs of socks of varying lengths and colors, some with pictures of animals and cartoon characters. And there was no way that he’d had a small collection of rolled-up tights and leggings of various colors and patterns.

Maybe… maybe his mother… his mother what? Did she come home from work early, dump a whole bunch of new socks into his drawer, and neglect to mention it? To mess with him?

And Nathan knew that his father certainly wouldn’t do something like this.

Tyler might, but he probably wouldn’t go so far as to actually pay for new things to mess with Nathan’s head.

Nathan pulled out a pair of grey ankle socks with images of Hello Kitty stitched into them. It’s not like anyone would see them beneath his pant legs, and he didn’t ever take his shoes off in school (though his parents would see them that afternoon walking around the house), so it really wouldn’t be a big deal, would it?

A quick rummage through the rest of his dresser only confirmed that Nathan didn’t have any of the socks he thought he’d had to choose from, so it really was this or nothing. Especially since it wasn’t yet warm enough to wear sandals without his toes freezing off.

Of course, when he actually went to go get his shoes, Nathan was in for another unpleasant surprise. His regular shoes had been replaced by a pair of casual sneakers with a flower pattern on them. They looked like something that a girl would wear. Sure, they were in a better condition than his own shoes—which looked like they would fall apart if he stepped in a mud puddle—but they weren’t his. And his mother would definitely have mentioned buying him a new pair of shoes.

Unless… unless she had and he’d simply missed it. The way he’d been so distracted lately by school and thinking about Valentine’s Day, maybe she had said something and Nathan had simply never heard her. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Either way, both his mother and his father were already gone off too work, so he wouldn’t be able to ask them now (though what a conversation that would be: “Mom, did you get these for me or did a stranger sneak them into my closet?”). Since he didn’t have time to search for his old shoes before the bus arrived, Nathan slipped these new shoes on instead. Besides, they weren’t that girly.

And they fit well enough. Very well, actually. Which was… odd. They certainly looked smaller than Nathan’s regular shoes. He’d expected them to be at least a little tight, but they were comfortable enough that he could probably wear them all day and not feel the least bit sore by the end of it. It was eerie. Sure, he was a teenager, so he was still growing, and his feet were going to get bigger, but these shoes were still pretty small. They didn’t even look like women’s shoes, they looked like girls’ shoes.

On the bus, Nathan his the fact that he was wearing different shoes by sitting his bag on top of his feet. But once he was in school there was no getting around getting around the fact that he was wearing girly shoes. But, surprisingly, nobody said a thing. Nobody stared. It seemed like it didn’t matter to anybody what kind of shoes Nathan was wearing.

But the real surprise for the day came after lunch, as Nathan was opening up his locker to get his English books.

“Hey there.” Gavin had followed Nathan to his locker, which was surprising in itself, but he looked distracted, not even looking Nathan in the eye.

“Oh hey,” Nathan replied, “What’s up?”

“Not much. I was just wondering… you’re not busy this Saturday, are you?”

“Huh? No, I’m not doing anything. Why?”

“Well…” Gavin looked uncomfortable, and it was beginning to worry Nathan. Finally Gavin blurted out, “I thought that maybe the two of us could go see a movie together. If you want to.”

“Oh, sure. That sounds great,” Nathan said, “What movie?”

“I… uh… was going to let you choose. Unless you want me to choose?”

“I don’t mind,” Nathan assured him, smiling gently.

“Great. So… I’ll let you know tomorrow?” Gavin asked.

“Yeah, that’s good.” Nathan pulled out the flowery binder he used for English and slipped it into his backpack. He closed his locker, adding, “I’ll see you then.”

It wasn’t until Nathan got to class and sat down that he remembered: Saturday was Valentine’s Day. He began doodling in the margins of his paper, wondering why Gavin had made such an obvious mistake. Hadn’t he said he was planning to ask someone on a date? Maybe she’d turned him down and Gavin didn’t want to do nothing all weekend.

At least he’d bothered to ask if Nathan was free instead of assuming.

And really, it wasn’t that big a deal anyway.

A blond girl—Nathan remembered that her name was Emily—sat down at the desk beside him. He took a moment to look at her shoes. She was wearing a pair similar to Nathan’s, but he couldn’t help shake the feeling that hers looked a little bigger.

Then he realized that she was looking at him.

“Oh,” he said, “I… uh, I was just thinking that I really like your shoes.” It wasn’t a total lie, even if he told himself that it was.

“Oh, thanks,” Emily replied, “Your shoes are cute too.”

Nathan blushed and turned to face the front of the room, thinking that maybe he should have just worn sandals instead.

()()()()()()()

Nathan had learned that waiting until the morning to pick out an outfit to wear was not a smart choice. After all, if he wanted his clothes to match and look good, he needed time to pick them out. Tomorrow, he was going to wear a tee shirt (plus his jacket) with shorts and knee-high socks. Part of him worried that this wouldn’t look right—he always seemed to be wearing outfits that nobody else wore—but nobody ever actually called him out on what he was wearing.

When he went to go grab a pair of underwear to add to the outfit, however, Nathan saw something that he simply couldn’t handle. All of his boxers had been replaced with girls’ panties. He fumbled around in the drawer for a bit, but there were no boys’ underwear—boxers or briefs—at all.

But who…Tyler!

Tyler must have been responsible for this… somehow. He was trying to pull some kind of prank on Nathan, apparently. It couldn’t have been their parents, and as far as Nathan knew they didn’t have any other siblings. That meant that nobody but Tyler could have been responsible.

He stormed down the hall and banged on his brother’s door. Tyler opened the door, a look of shock and confusion plastered on his face.

“What?” he asked.

Nathan confronted him, asking, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Funnier than you,” he retorted, folding his arms with a smirk.

“Well this isn’t funny.”

“What isn’t? You’re face? ‘cause your face is pretty funny.”

He was cocky, but he wasn’t acting the way he normally did when he’d pulled something. It crossed Nathan’s mind that he might not actually be responsible for what happened to his underwear drawer. If we was, he’d be egging Nathan on, calling him a girl or something.

“Oh good. There you are.”

Their mother had arrived with a basket of freshly-folded laundry.

“Nathan, this is your stuff,” she said, handing the basket over to him. Neatly folded on top of the stack were two clean pairs of panties.

“Um, mom, aren’t these yours?” he asked, nodding at the underwear.

“No dear. I checked. It’s all your stuff.”

She left and Tyler closed the door to his room. Nathan was alone with his panties in the middle of the hallway. Quickly, he retreated quickly to his room; Tyler and their mother might not see anything wrong with this, but there was always the possibility that their father could, and that would lead to a scolding.

In his room, Nathan thought about the situation he was in. Slowly, he pulled off his pants and boxers. Now he was naked from the waist down holding a pair of girls’ underwear. Checking again that the door was locked, he slid the panties up his legs.

They were… nice. He didn’t dislike them. Even though he didn’t have a mirror in his room (for some reason), Nathan thought they felt and looked pretty good. He would even be willing to wear them if he didn’t have any boxers. It’s not like anybody would see them.

He started to take the panties off, but stopped. Looking around, he spotted his pants, but nothing else. He had to have been wearing underwear a moment ago, but there wasn’t anything but the folded panties on the bed with the rest of the laundry. And since he wasn’t going to go without underwear for bed, Nathan opted to just leave the panties on.

As he pulled on his pajamas, though, Nathan had to pause again. It felt odd, like he wasn’t used to the thick cotton fabric.

I must be more tired than I thought, he decided, climbing into bed.

()()()()()()()

As Nathan rinsed the shampoo from his hair, he realized that his hair felt longer than he’d thought. Briefly, he considered if using a hairdryer would help it dry faster, but with the amount of time he had in the morning to get ready it was a moot point. No, he should probably just schedule for a haircut instead.

Once (mostly) dry and in his room, Nathan took off his bathrobe and slid into his panties. As he pulled his shorts on, he noticed that the feel of denim against his legs was a little unusual—it felt rough against his thighs. It also didn’t help that they felt way too loose on him.

Great, I’m getting even smaller! Nathan thought, but laughed the idea off as a little silly.

When he went to grab his shoes, though, Nathan was shocked to see a pair of bright blue ballet flats in the closet next to his sneakers. Immediately he thought of all the ways he could change his outfit so they’d match. But even as he was reaching down to pick them up, a pang in the back of his mind told him that maybe they were a little too girly, at least to wear at school. He’d have to leave them for now.

Still, a guy could dream.

When Nathan finally stirred on Saturday, the alarm clock read 11:32. Nathan sprang to his feet. He’d slept in! He never slept in. It was a bad habit. At least, according to his father it was.

At least the movie wasn’t until 3 o’clock. Nathan still had plenty of time to prepare and still get his homework done like his father had insisted. He wasn’t opposed to Nathan spending time with his friends (at least, not after a talk with his wife), but he still wanted Nathan to focus on schoolwork first.

But first Nathan needed a shower. He slipped out of his room and darted toward the bathroom. But as he turned the corner, he ran right into his father coming the other way.

“Oof! Careful son,” his father told him.

“Oh. Sorry dad,” Nathan said, “I accidentally slept in, and I wanted to take a shower and get dressed before I started my homework.”

“Alright. But don’t push yourself too hard, Nat. You’re a growing boy and you work hard; you deserve some rest every now and again.”

His father gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before heading back to his own room, leaving Nathan more than a little confused. Normally his dad was very stern and insistent. He thought a good work ethic was a lifestyle, and didn’t like to see Nathan slacking off.

Nathan decided not to dwell on it too long, though. After all, it wasn’t wise to look a gift horse in the mouth. And just because his dad was feeling generous didn’t mean that Nathan’s workload was any smaller than usual—he didn’t have time to look at a horse’s mouth, gift-giving or otherwise.

Still, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take advantage of the situation to enjoy a slightly longer shower than normal. It was a shame that he couldn’t stay in there forever. As he toweled himself off afterward, Nathan caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. It dawned on him that he didn’t look exactly like he thought he did. Especially his face; there was just something unusual about it. Maybe it was just the result of getting older, or possibly just the effect of having longer hair.

Stepping back from the mirror didn’t really help. From further away, Nathan thought that he looked even less like himself. Like if someone glanced at his face they wouldn’t be able to tell who he was. And in the mirror he looked even thinner than he remembered.

No, that wasn’t right. Not thinner. He placed his hand on his waist and looked down, then back at the mirror. It was almost as if his waist had shrunk over the past few days. But that didn’t make any sense. Sure, Nathan thought that it was kind of nice to look thin, but he was beginning to feel like this wasn’t the way that he was supposed to look.

What time is it? he wondered. Without a clock in the bathroom there was no way to be sure at any given moment just how much time he’d spent in the shower. How much time did he have left to do his homework before he had to leave for the movie?

Once dry and in his room, Nathan pulled on his underwear and pants. Much to his chagrin, his pants were a little wide at the top. He had a belt in his closet, but it was a skinny leather belt, with little rhinestones arranged in flower petal shapes. It was a hand-me-down from his mother, when she finally realized that it was too small for her anymore. Nathan figured that it would probably be too small for him too, but he slid it on and pulled it as tight as it would go. Too tight, in fact; he had to loosen it so two holes were showing past the buckle.

It held his pants up, but anybody looking at Nathan would be able to tell that he was wearing a girl’s belt.

Maybe his jacket was long enough to cover it up though.

Nathan quickly slid into his shirt, but had a little bit of trouble pulling it down. It was a little tight. Not uncomfortably so, but enough that it conformed a little too closely to his body for Nathan to feel at ease.

Worse than how tight it was, though, was just how far the neckline went. People really shouldn’t be able to see his chest hair, Nathan thought. Of course, it didn’t matter, since his jacket would cover it up anyway, but this did make Nathan a little uncomfortable.

Plus he wouldn’t be able to take his jacket off now without worrying about people staring at his chest.

He turned back to the closet to look for a better shirt, but none of them looked like they’d be any better. All of his tee shirts seemed to have low-cut collars. Behind the tee shirts were a few more shirts, but they were different—thinner material, bolder colors, more elaborate design. They looked expensive. They looked… like something Nathan’s mother would wear. He reached out to touch a dark green one, but pulled his hand back at the last moment. There was no way he’d made it out of the house in one of those, let alone through the entire afternoon.

()()()()()()()

“Is that him?” Nathan’s mother asked, pointing out the car window to a boy standing near the curb outside the theater.

“Yes mom, that’s him,” Nathan replied, rubbing his bare arms with his hands. He didn’t know why his mother insisted on blasting the cold air in the car. It wasn’t even that hot outside.

“Okay dear. I’ll be waiting here after the show is over to pick you up.”

“Yes mom, I know.” Nathan undid his seatbelt and got out of the car.

“And don’t spend all that money on popcorn and candy.”

Nathan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes—his mother could be overbearing, but he wasn’t going to disrespect her—and closed the car door. As she drove away, Nathan turned his attention to Gavin, who was waving him over.

“Hey!” Nathan said, running up, “I made it!”

“Yeah, you did,” Gavin said.

But even though he was talking to Nathan, it was clear from the way that he avoided Nathan’s gaze that he wanted to say something else, something he wasn’t sure how to say. Nathan raise an eyebrow; just seeing his best friend acting odd was enough to make him a little worried, but Nathan wasn’t going to push for an answer if Gavin wasn’t comfortable.

“So… should we get in line?” Nathan asked.

“Yes,” Gavin said, “But, um, I was hoping… I mean I thought maybe I could pay for our tickets today.”

“Wait. Both of them?”

“Yeah. You know: my treat.”

“Er… thanks Gavin, but my mom gave me ticket money,” Nathan told him, already mentally scolding himself for stupidly mentioning his mother’s help like he was a needy child.

“Yes, I know,” Gavin said, “I just mean… I asked you to come. You shouldn’t… it only seems fair that I pay.”

“I… guess so,” Nathan decided, still not sure why Gavin wanted to do this. But there really wasn’t any reason to complain about getting a free ticket, so he let it pass.

At the snack line, though, when Nathan went to pay for his popcorn and drink, Gavin stopped him.

“Let me get the snacks,” he said.

“No, that’s not fair. You already paid for the tickets.”

“Please, Nat?” Gavin asked, “Just this once.”

Nathan furled his brow, but nodded. It didn’t make any sense for Gavin to act this nice to him. They were friends, but they never… actually, they’d never done anything alone together except play video games. Was this just how Gavin was? Because it was… kind of nice, actually.

The movie was good enough—they were watching whatever newest X-Men movie had just come out—but it was getting kind of hard for Nathan to pay attention with Gavin sitting right next to him. He told himself it was just how cold the theater was, but every few minutes he’d just glance over at Gavin, and a few times he caught Gavin looking back at him. Far from making Nathan uncomfortable, though, he actually kind of liked catching his best friend paying attention to him.

It felt like the movie was over before he knew it, and then they were standing outside the theater waiting for their parents to arrive. Nathan was still finishing his popcorn, occasionally stopping to brush the hair out of his eyes. He was still a little cold from the movie theater.

“It was a good movie,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, pretty good,” Gavin agreed, “Better than the one from last year.”

“I didn’t see that one,” Nathan told him, “That actress who played Rogue was pretty cute though?”

“I guess,” Gavin said, “But she doesn’t have your eyes.”

Nathan almost choked on his popcorn. Gavin rushed forward to try to help him, but Nathan waved him away.

“I’m fine,” Nathan insisted, trying to hide how much he was blushing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it wasn’t you,” Nathan said, trying to give him a convincing smile. He’d never thought he’d hear Gavin say something like that.

Gavin continued trying to stutter out an apology, but Nathan wasn’t having any of it. It wasn’t long, though, before his mother showed up, and he had to say goodbye to Gavin.

“I’ll see you Monday, then?” Gavin asked.

“Yeah,” Nathan replied, wondering why that was even a question, “I’ll see you then.”

As they drove away, Nathan’s mother asked him, “So how was the movie?”

“It was good, mom,” he told her, still thinking about Gavin, “I really enjoyed it.”

()()()()()()()

At home, Nathan took a moment to slip into the bathroom and examine himself in the mirror. More specifically, he looked at his eyes. There didn’t seem to be anything different about them, but he couldn’t get what Gavin had said out of his mind.

Just thinking about it made him blush again.

Nathan tried to put it all out of his mind and returned to his room. He pulled out his school stuff and began doing his homework. But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t prevent his thoughts from turning back to Gavin. Eventually, Nat decided that he wasn’t going to get any work done right then anyway and pushed it off to the side. For the moment he was just going to sit back and daydream.

There came a sharp rapping at the bedroom door.

“Nat,” his mother called through the door, “I’m going out to Burger King. Do you want your usual?”

“Sure, mom,” Nat replied.

His mother had distracted him, but not from his homework. He was standing in the middle of the room with his shirt off, looking down at his waist. His hips seemed… wide, and his pants clung tightly to his legs. It had been hard to get them on for some reason. And sitting down was almost uncomfortable. But this was the third pair of pants that he’d tried on, and they were all like that. The only ones that were even a little bit loose didn’t come all the way down to his ankles.

Of course, he could have just worn shorts instead—although wearing shorts in the middle of February was just asking for hypothermia—but his shorts were not only just as tight, they only reached halfway down his thighs! When he held a pair up, it looked closer to a denim rag than an actual article of clothing. He’d tried on a pair anyway, because why not? They fit just fine, more comfortable than his old shorts even. But they did draw a bit of attention to just how hairy his legs were.

At least I don’t wear boxers, he thought. Not only would boxers be longer than his shorts, but that extra layer of clothing would probably make it impossible to squeeze into any of his pants. Pants or shorts. Bottoms! That was the word.

Nat threw the shorts back into the dresser and finally put on a shirt. He felt kind of naked without one, even if it was just in his room.

Pulling out a stick of gum, Nat took a good long look at his bookshelf. For some reason, Nat could have sworn that there used to be video games on that one shelf. But Tyler had never stored his games in Nat’s room (not that Nat would have let him) and this bookshelf had always been in Nat’s room. It had been part of the room back when it was their father’s study.

Besides, Nat almost never played video games. There was the rare occasion when Tyler would be gone for the day and Nat would take the opportunity to hog the Playstation, but that was pretty much it. He didn’t spend his allowance on games he’d never really want to play. Most of the time he spent his money on books and music and that growing pile of magazines on his desk.

And gum, of course. He found that chewing gum helped him to concentrate. His teachers should be able to understand that, right? There was no real reason to ban gum in class. Of course, logic aside, if Nat were to get caught chewing in class he would have to sit through a lecture from his father about respecting teachers.

Nat stopped chewing and his shoulders sank. He vaguely remembered his father saying something like that to him at some point. Even now Nathan could hear the disappointment in his father’s voice. He always hated letting his father down.

He also hated that Tyler never got the same treatment that he did. Because that little brat was just so perfect, wasn’t he?

Nat snorted at the thought, but a knock at the door interrupted any further contemplation. Nat went over and opened it, expecting to see his father, but it was his mother standing there.

“It turns out I need to run to the store to get a few things before I get you guys lunch. Do you want to come shopping with me?”

“I… uh, sure mom,” Nat replied, wincing as his voice cracked just a bit, “I’ll be ready in a moment.”

Nat went over to the closet and looked through his shoes. There was a pair of boots that caught his eye; they must have been long enough to reach his knee. But they kind of had a heel on them. Not a big one, but people would notice. Instead he grabbed a pair of sandals that he… kind of remembered getting with his mother a while ago. He remembered them being on sale, anyway.

He slid the shoes on and did the straps. As he did so, a thought he couldn’t quite figure out nagged at him. It wasn’t until he stood up that he realized—these shoes would look a lot better with a skirt than his jeans.

Nat felt his ears burn at just the thought of a skirt. What would the kids at school think about that?! And he could just imagine his parents’ reactions. Not to mention that Tyler would never let him hear the end of it.

Still, the idea of it: giving his legs the same freedom they had in his bathrobe, only out in public. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought.

()()()()()()()

As they walked through the Walmart, Nat found it kind of hard to divide his attention between his phone and his mother. Not because he wasn’t capable of handling that kind of multitasking, though—his parents had made it clear when they gave him the phone that they didn’t want him to completely withdraw from them.

No, it was difficult because he kept finding his attention drawn to the other women in the store. February wasn’t even half over and women and girls alike were already walking around in shorts that showed off their legs. Part of him wanted to notice how attractive they looked, but the only thing he really felt was… envy. He wanted to be able to walk around confidently like that.

“Do you need any new clothes for school?” his mother asked.

Nat snapped back to attention.

“Huh?” he asked, pausing his chewing for a moment, “No, I don’t think so.”

They were in the boy’s clothing section, looking through shirts. Nat couldn’t imagine how Tyler went through shirts so quickly. Nat liked getting new clothes too, but his closet was almost full to the brim while Tyler was almost always running out of things to wear.

“You don’t think so, or ‘no?’ Because they’re not the same thing.”

“I have enough clothes, mom,” Nat insisted, trying his hardest not to sound exasperated. If she thought he was being rude…

“You should show more respect to your mother.”

Crap.

For the next five minutes, she went on about how important it was to respect your elders and especially your parents. And Nat believed her, he really did, but there was only so much of this discussion that he could take. He was fourteen now. When was she going to start treating him like an adult?

They wandered into the “beauty” section next, and Nat’s mother finally stopped reading him the riot act to start looking for the products that she needed. Nat turned his attention back to Facebook, but out of the corner of his eye he saw an advertisement for women’s razors.

Nat looked over the different razors on display. There was an awful lot of pink. A thought wormed its way into Nat’s head, and he grabbed one of the packages of razors to put in the cart. Looking around, he quickly spotted the cans of shaving cream and picked one out too. It was just as pink as the packaging for the razors. Apparently women could only see in pink and blue?

When Nat’s mother got back to him, she was holding a bottle of facial cleanser in her hand.

“Here, I grabbed this for you,” she said, handing the bottle to him, “Our family’s always had pretty clear skin, but given your age I thought you’d want to be on the safe side. I know that acne can be a big problem.”

“Oh, thanks mom,” Nat said, putting the bottle into the cart beside the razors.

()()()()()()()

Nat laid out his pajamas for the night, but as he stripped down he stopped to look at his legs. They were every bit as hairy as before, and he had razors in the bathroom now.

What the Hell? he thought, I’ll give it a try.

Nat threw on his bathrobe and gathered up his pajamas to bring into the bathroom. He ran the bathwater as he stripped down, then grabbed the shaving cream and a razor and got in.

It was a very slow process. More than once he had to stop and pull hair from between the blades of the razor. More than once he cut himself, and every time he did he had to restrain himself from cursing. It didn’t hurt, but it stung.

All the same, when the water finally drained away and Nat’s legs were dry, they looked a thousand times better than before. Scratched up, but better. He legs finally looked like something he wouldn’t mind someone else seeing.

Nat had to smile.

“Um… shit.”

Nat stood at the end of the lunch line with his tray, looking out at the cafeteria and feeling unusually confused.

He had no idea where to sit.

Fighting the knot in his gut, Nat looked for a familiar face. He spotted Gavin sitting with his friends at a table, but it looked like it was full. Besides, how awkward would that be? Sure, Gavin and he were friends, but they didn’t really share friends. Nat would just be intruding.

There came a tap on Nat’s shoulder. He looked around to see Emily, from his next period, standing there with a tray in her hand as well.

“Hey. Do you need a place to sit?” she asked.

“Yeah, kind of…” Nat admitted. He could already feel a blush coming on.

“Well come on then,” Emily told him, “There’s an empty seat at our table.

Nat followed her, giving only one last glance back at where Gavin was sitting and laughing with his friends. Part of him really wanted to be over there with them, but he knew that he was just being wistful.

“Hey there,” one of the girls said to Nat as he sat down, “I’m Julia.”

“I’m Amber,” the other girl added; she was in the middle of cleaning her glasses and didn’t seem to be paying that much attention to the newcomer.

“My name’s Nat,” he offered, “Thanks for letting me sit with you guys… girls.”

Julia flashed him a warm smile, while Emily retorted, “Well, we needed one more to fill out our lunch table quota anyway. Anybody would have sufficed.”

“You don’t have to be rude to him,” Amber scolded. Nat wanted to tell her that it was okay, but Emily beat him to it by sticking out her tongue at Amber. Amber responded by throwing a French fry at Emily.

Nat relaxed a little, only then realizing just how tense he’d really been. He took the opportunity to unzip his coat, fumbling with the unfamiliar zipper (why had he allowed his mother to talk him into getting a new jacket?) before slipping the whole thing off of himself.

“Ooh, that’s cute,” Julia cooed.

Nat looked down at what he was wearing and winced. It was a light blue top with ruffled sleeves and frills. I just won’t take my jacket off today, he’d thought when he put it on that morning, Nobody will see it.

“I… uh… er…” he stammered.

“It is cute,” Emily agreed, “Where’d you get it?”

“Macy’s, I think?” Nat replied.

“Wish I had a top like that,” Julia muttered.

Nat relaxed a bit more. Maybe he’d been worrying over nothing after all. His friends never seemed to be bothered by the things he wore, no matter how much he feared they would be.

He smiled and let out a small sigh of relief. For the first time in a long time, Nat felt like he wasn’t being judged.

()()()()()()()

Nat bobbed his head gently to the music coming from his phone as he looked over the clothes piled on his bed. He’d thrown a whole bunch of shirts and pants and whatever else he could find together and just started sifting through them. How could he have so many clothes and not remember having bought or worn them?

He picked up a tee shirt at random, a graphic tee with a picture of The Little Mermaid on it. It was from… JC Penny? The one at the mall? That meant that he would have got it… January? That sounded right. Had he ever worn it? He wouldn’t have bought something he didn’t plan to wear. And he wasn’t alone at the mall that day—it’s not like anybody wouldn’t have known about the shirt; so it wasn’t a secret.

But for now he threw the shirt to the side and picked up a pair of green cotton short shorts with the words “Laguna Beach” across the butt, which meant that they could have only come from one of the family trips to visit their grandparents. But their most recent trip had been in the fall, and Nat knew for a fact that he… he… something. Something was wrong here.

A knock at the bedroom door caught Nat’s attention. He pulled out his earbuds and asked, “What is it?”

“Honey, your friend is here,” his mother said through the door.

“Oh, coming!” Nat told her, cursing himself for forgetting that he was having company. He quickly grabbed as many things from the bed that he could and stuffed them into the dresser. He’d sort it all out later. Everything he couldn’t fit into the drawer he really quickly threw into the closet.

With that done, Nat scurried to the front door, where Gavin was just taking off his backpack and shoes.

“Hi Nat,” he said.

There was something different about the way Gavin looked at him though, and it took Nat a moment to realize what it was: Nat was dressed in a low-cut shirt and shorts, and literally nothing else. Gavin had never seen him wearing so little before.

“Oh… um, yeah,” Nat stammered, letting his hair fall into his face to hide the blush growing in his cheeks, “Um, I’m glad you could make it.”

To Gavin’s credit, he recovered pretty quickly from seeing his friend wearing surprisingly little.

“Yes,” Gavin said, “I was a bit worried that my parents wouldn’t like the idea. So, in your room?”

Nat nodded and motioned for him to follow, silently grateful that Tyler wasn’t around to spy on them.

He was, however, beginning to regret not tidying up his room a bit beforehand. It wasn’t filthy, but Nat hadn’t exactly been worried about keeping everything in its place. His mother was even beginning to warn him about how messy it was getting.

Once they were in his (It’s not that filthy, Nat tried to convince himself) room, Nat turned to close the door, but hesitated. Something told him that the door was supposed to stay open when Gavin was over. The thought didn’t quite ring true, but Nat obeyed it anyway.

He turned around to ask Gavin a question, but when he saw what Gavin was holding his heart skipped a beat.

“Sorry, it was lying on the floor,” Gavin tried to explain, holding the skirt out to Nat.

Nat’s mouth was dry. He needed to say something—that it wasn’t his, or at least that he’d never worn it. Something, anything, to keep Gavin from getting angry and storming out. He tried making the words come out, but it was no good.

But… something was wrong. Gavin wasn’t cringing at the skirt. He wasn’t looking at Nat with any kind of anger or disgust. He was just… holding it out for Nat to take.

So he did. He took the skirt from Gavin and held it in his own hands.

“Thanks,” he said, turning to the dresser and quickly shoving the offending article in there with the rest.

“Um, it’s a nice skirt,” Gavin said, “I mean… I actually think… you know… it’d look pretty good on you.”

Nat’s ears started burning. His face must have been a tomato.

“I know that you’re not exactly… you know, into that kind of thing,” Gavin said, trying to salvage this conversation, “You’ve got that whole ‘jacket and pants’ thing going on. It’s fine. I like it. I mean, I know it doesn’t matter what I think, it’s just…”

Nat didn’t say anything, so he continued.

“I just think… if you ever wanted to, it would look nice. Like maybe on a date or something?”

For a moment Nat didn’t respond. His stomach was awash with butterflies. After what felt like forever, he asked, “Is that official?”

At some point, they must have gravitated toward each other a bit, because Gavin was close enough to reach out and brush a hair out of Nat’s eyes before replying, “Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s official.”

Nat was looking right into his eyes. They must have been an inch apart. He could actually feel Gavin’s breath. His stomach was turning. Slowly, Nat opened his lips, just slightly, and tilted his head.

Then he turned away and took a deep breath. He glanced over at Gavin, who had stepped back and started to look around the room, probably just as embarrassed as Nat was.

“So, um…” Nat began, looking for a way to change the subject, “Did you bring your books?”

“Yes,” Gavin said, “In my backpack. I guess my parents would like it if I actually studied while I was here.”

Nat cracked a smile at his joke. He was glad that their parents had agreed to let him tutor Gavin. It was the first chance they’d had since Valentine’s Day to really spend any time together.

Apparently a warm front had breezed through the region, because the next few days were going to be unseasonably warm. Nat took the opportunity to do something that he’d been eager try—he was going to leave his jacket at home and go out wearing that fashionable tank top that he’d been saving for a sunny day. Giving up this chance while he had it would just be criminal.

And of course he needed a pair of cute shorts to go with them. If it was going to be warm, that was all the excuse he needed to let his legs breathe. But instead of the obvious choice of sandals to compliment the outfit, he picked out those long, heeled boots from the back of his closet. Today, at least, Nat wanted to feel a little taller than usual.

Nat took a moment to look himself over in his bedroom mirror before calling it complete. Maybe he could borrow a bracelet from his mother? She had that cute silver one; maybe Nat could ask her about it.

As soon as he raised an arm, though, Nat’s attention was drawn to something else entirely. He gave a soft “blegh” at the sight of all that hair coming from his armpit.

It’s as if I’ve never shaved there, he thought, I guess that’s what happens when you wear a jacket every single day.

There wasn’t much time, so Nat ran to the bathroom and took off his top. He set it to the side very carefully; if it got wet he’d have to wear something else. The actual shaving only took about forty-five seconds, but it felt like a rushed job. Still, better than not trying at all.

His mother was waiting for him in the car.

“Do you know where this place is?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I have the address,” Nat said, “It’s the coffee place next to the salon.”

“Do you need money for the salon too?”

“Huh? No mom, we’re just getting coffee.”

“I didn’t know that you liked coffee.”

“I… I didn’t want to say no. I don’t get to hang out with my friends outside of school very often, remember?”

“What about that boy you’re tutoring? The Moore’s kid?”

Nat grunted in reply, not trusting himself to actually say anything about Gavin to his mother.

The rest of the ride passed thankfully without incident. Nat’s mother dropped him off and gave him a bit of money for coffee, making it clear that she’d be back in an hour to pick him up and she expected him to be waiting for her.

Emily and Julia were already in the coffee shop, along with another girl Nat hadn’t met yet. They already had their coffees, though Nat still wasn’t sure how a cold drink could really be coffee.

“Hey guys,” he said, sitting down next to Emily.

“Good, you’re here,” Emily said, “Now you can tell Tamara here that I did so get that guy to admit Daniel Radcliff is hot.”

Nat chuckled. He did remember that, but: “I don’t think it counts if the guy doesn’t know what the word ‘procace’ actually means.”

“He said he did!”

Nat rolled his eyes. “He was just trying to impress you,” he reminded her.

“Tratidore,” Emily retorted, “Don’t you know that you’re always supposed to back a girlfriend up and defend her good name?”

Julia spoke up, asking, “Don’t you want something, Nat? The line’s not very long.”

“Right,” Nat said, standing up, “I should go order something.”

This was certainly going to be a new experience. Nat got in line and started up at the menu. He didn’t understand any of this strange foreign coffee-language. He didn’t even like coffee! What was he doing?!

Maybe that third thing down, he thought, That looks okay.

Not five minutes later Nat was sitting back down, sipping his ice-cold coffee-drink through a straw and listening to Tamara tell her story of the time her older sister had to beat a catfish to death with a fishing net. It would have been a funny story even if she wasn’t making gestures to go along with the story. More than once Nat found himself snorting into his drink with laughter.

“She still grumbles about it every time we have fish,” Tamara finished, leaning back into her chair with a big smile on her face.

“I haven’t been camping in years,” Julia lamented, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, “We loved swimming in the lake. That’s why I joined the swim team, I think.”

Nat offered something of his own for the conversation. “I never liked swimming,” he admitted, “My family never had a pool to go to growing up. The only time I really spend in the water is when we go to Laguna Beach to visit our grandparents.”

“Your grandparents retired to Laguna beach?”

“No,” Nat corrected, “They’re still working. They own a boat shop there.”

“That must make for an awesome summer vacation,” Tamara said.

“Usually, yeah. We visit a few times a year.”

“What do your parents do again?” Julia asked.

“Oh… um, my mother is a photographer. She does a lot of family photos, but she’s always wanted to do weddings.”

“That sounds like fun,” Tamara said, “You want to study photography?”

Nat almost didn’t answer, but managed to mutter, “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“And your dad?”

“He’s a doctor,” Nat said, “A physician. Nothing special.”

“Nothing special?!” Emily cried, “Bitch, my dad is a funeral director. You want to trade? I’ll trade dads with you right now.”

Nat chuckled, but admitted, “He can be a little strict sometimes. He’s always wanted me to do something in law. I don’t want to disappoint him; he works hard so we can live comfortably. He just wants me to make the most of every opportunity I have.”

Much to Nat’s surprise, though, Julia scoffed. “Well I think that’s pretty selfish,” she said, “What you do with your life is your own decision. If he really wants you to be happy, then he won’t tell you how to live your life.”

For a moment, nobody said anything. Nat sank down in his chair, thinking about what Julia had said. Julia herself seemed to be caught up in her own memory and wasn’t really paying much attention to the people around her.

“Hey, enough of that now,” Emily said, drawing their attention, “Have any of you heard if they’re actually going to fire Mr. Wheeler or if that’s just a rumor?”

The topic of conversation quickly turned to teachers nobody liked. Now that they weren’t paying so much attention to him, Nat could finally relax again. He avoided Julia’s eyes for a while, though. But he did notice that they were the same deep brown as Gavin’s. And Gavin had that sweet little smile he made when he thought that nobody was looking at him.

Nat wondered what Gavin had in mind for their date. Sure, he talked a big game around the other guys, but Nat knew that deep down he was a real sweet boy. He’d probably want it to be special. And he’d probably insist on paying for the whole thing too…

“Nat?”

“Hm?”

The other three were looking right at him.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, “I drifted off. What were you saying?”

Emily raised her eyebrow and glanced over at Julia, who asked with a coy smile, “So what were you thinking about just now?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I think she means: who were you thinking about just now?” Emily replied.

Nat could already feel himself blushing, even as he opened his mouth to deny it. He didn’t get the chance before they were upon him with questions.

“What’s his name?”

“He goes to our school, right?”

“Is he older? A senior?”

“It’s no one!” Nat insisted, “I mean, I’m not thinking about a boy.”

There was a pause, and then Tamara cut in with “a girl?”

If it was possible to go from beet red to something brighter, Nat did it just then.

“I’m not thinking about anyone,” he told them, “I mean it.”

They seemed to accept this answer, because they didn’t press any further. Maybe they just realized how upset they’d made Nat and didn’t want to make him feel any worse. The conversation moved on, and Nat recovered quick enough to join back in.

()()()()()()()

As soon as the door closed behind Nat and his mother, he heard a voice coming from the kitchen—his father’s voice.

“Nat, come in here real quick.”

A small knot formed in Nat’s gut, but he did as his father instructed anyway. Events from the past few days played back in his head as he desperately searched for whatever reason his dad would be angry at him. Had his mother told him about Nat’s outfit? Maybe he should have worn his jacket after all.

His dad was standing over the oven, cooking dinner. He barely glanced at Nat before saying, “Your brother is having trouble with his homework. Help him with it.”

“Oh. Yes, sir,” Nat said, turning to leave.

“Nat.”

He stopped.

“You don’t have to call me sir,” his dad told him.

“Right. Thanks dad,” Nat said, quickly scooting out of the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what was up with his father lately, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Tyler was sitting that the kitchen table, staring at his homework with a look of defeat on his face. Fortunately, it was math, and Nat was pretty good at math.

“Okay, what do we have here?” Nat asked, sitting down beside him.

“Rocket science, genius,” he replied, “It’s seventh grade math. What did you think it was?”

“Oh shut up,” Nat said, “I’m only helping because dad is making me.”

Tyler snorted. “Yeah, because he really makes you do anything.”

Nat opened his mouth to retort, but closed it when he realized he wasn’t sure what Tyler meant. That didn’t sound like one of his normal sarcastic jabs.

“Well, let’s look at this problem,” Nat said. They were multiplying and dividing negative numbers. It wasn’t anything very hard.

Of course, as Nat tried to guide Tyler through the problems, he was finding that it was more difficult than he thought to remember some of these rules. He had to really struggle to think back to what he learned in seventh grade. His teacher was Mrs. Walsh; she was always criticizing him for his… sloppy handwriting. Wait, that wasn’t right.

He would have lunch with… Jesse? Walking with Jesse and Gavin between classes, laughing at stupid stuff. But he hadn’t… he didn’t start talking to Gavin until they were in High School. But he remembered them talking about the Playstation that he’d got for Christmas that year, and he remembered waiting in line to get the newest Resident Evil game. But he hated scary games, even more than he hated scary movies.

Nat put the pencil down. There was too much going through his head. Brief flashes of memories that didn’t add up. Staying up all night to watch an action movie marathon with Gavin. That cute girl with red hair that he tried asking out one time. His uncle letting him have that sip of beer when they visited him during the summer.

“Nat?”

Nat was shaking. Tyler was looking at him with actual concern in his eyes.

“Um… I think you’ve got it,” Nat said, getting up and stepping away from the table.

He retreated quickly to his room to clear his head. He just needed to sit down and think. That was all he needed. But as Nat looked around the room, a feeling crept up on him. A feeling that something was very, very wrong. He couldn’t tell what it was. But it was all over the walls and the floor and the bed and the desk. Something was wrong.

And it was on him too. For some reason, Nat was suddenly very self-conscious about his outfit. He was wearing boots with heels and tight shorts and this clingy tank top.

A bath, he thought, That always calms me down.

Nat grabbed his bathrobe from the closet, trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness he felt when he touched it, kicked off his boots, and headed straight for the bathroom. He stripped down naked, trying to ignore the (wrong) image of himself in the mirror. He got into the tub before the water had finished running and sank down until only his eyes were above water.

Then he leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to ignore everything he was feeling at the moment. He listened to the sound of the water faucet and soaked in the warm water.

Before long he had to turn the faucet off, but by then he had already started to feel better. His hair was all wet now, which aside from being a pain to dry reminded him that it was too damn long. But he tried to ignore that. He tried to ignore all of that for now.

Nathan had only a few minutes to get dressed before heading out to meet the bus. But he was still standing in his room with nothing on but a bathrobe. His closet and dresser were wide open, and there was absolutely nothing in them that Nathan wanted to wear. Everything he owned was too tight and too revealing.

Brushing the wet hair from his face, Nathan shuffled though his underwear drawer to look for a pair of panties that wouldn’t be utterly embarrassing to wear. His mother had left early, so he wouldn’t be able to ask her to schedule a haircut until he got home.

Nathan wanted to wear pants, but his capris fit a little more comfortably. He chose plain white socks and sneakers, and zipped his jacket all the way up to cover up his tee shirt. In the mirror, he looked almost halfway decent. But even though he had tied his hair back, Nathan still squirmed at his own image—he could barely recognize himself, and he wasn’t sure why.

Nathan kept his head down on the bus, determined not to let anyone talk to him. At school, he moved quickly to his locker and grabbed his things, slamming the door shut as soon as he was done. When he turned to head to class, though, Gavin was standing right there waiting for him.

“Oh, hey Nat.”

Nathan winced at the sound of his own name. He didn’t know why.

“So,” Gavin began, “I was thinking about what you said, about—”

“Gavin I have to go,” Nathan interrupted, scooting by him without even waiting for a response.

“Oh… okay!” Gavin called after him, “I’ll talk to you later then.”

Nathan did his best to ignore the disappointment in his friend’s voice.

Throughout the morning, Nathan kept his focus on his work, trying to block out the rest of the world. He didn’t raise his hand and barely spoke a word. Even the sound of his own voice was grating for some reason, like it belonged to someone else.

When lunch came, Nathan didn’t want to sit with his friends. He wanted to go over and sit with Gavin, but he didn’t want to talk to Gavin. He ended up sitting in a table off in the corner of the cafeteria, alone where nobody could disturb him.

Emily was in his next class. Nathan didn’t want her asking him where he was during lunch, so he sat further away from her than usual; and just for good measure, he refused to look her way at all during class. But it didn’t help. He could feel her eyes boring into him from across the room.

He should have just stayed home.

()()()()()()()

“So you feeling better?” Julia asked.

“Yeah, a bit,” Nathan said, smiling. He’d let his hair down, and he had taken off his jacket, but he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable with what he was wearing. “I guess it was just a bug.”

“I’m glad you’re getting over it,” Emily replied, “I just wish you’d let us know what was going on.”

“Sorry, guys,” Nathan said, “I guess I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

Nathan had never noticed how Emily’s yellow bangs fell in front of her eyes. When it annoyed her, she simply blew it away with a gust of breath instead of reaching up and brushing it away herself. The only time she directly touched her hair was when she pushed it behind her ear with a single manicured finger. Nathan imagined himself leaning in, gently moving a lock of her blond hair behind her ear for her, and letting his finger brush her cheek gently as he pulled away…

Nathan’s ears started burning as he realized what he was thinking. He was daydreaming about having a romantic moment with his best friend.

He looked away from Emily. He didn’t want her to know what he had been thinking. And he didn’t want to risk it happening again when he looked at her.

Amber was looking right at Nathan. He wasn’t blushing, was he? He really hoped that he wasn’t blushing.

But all Amber said was, “If you were sick, you really should have just stayed home.”

“Yeah, I realized that sometime around third period,” Nathan replied, grateful for a change of topic.

Still, Amber could have been a little nicer about it.

Nathan glanced back at Emily, who seemed undisturbed by his behavior. And Nathan wasn’t feeling the same way he was a moment ago. Whatever that had been, it was gone now.

Of course, it did serve to remind him that he hadn’t talked to Gavin since Monday morning. Not because Nathan was avoiding him; Gavin just hadn’t approaching him again, and the week was half over now. Nathan felt a little disheartened, but he knew that it was his fault for pushing Gavin away. He just… wasn’t sure how he felt about Gavin right now. As much as he wanted to apologize, maybe them spending time together was a mistake.

The idea made Nathan feel even worse about himself. He really enjoyed that trip to the movies, and having Gavin over for tutoring, but he simply wasn’t feeling the same way he did during those times anymore. Could he really have stopped liking Gavin over just a few weeks?

The question was troubling.

()()()()()()()

Thursdays were always the worst. It was as if the weekend simply refused to hurry up and get there. But as Nat finished the last question of his history homework, he felt such a sudden sense of freedom well up inside of him. We was done with school for the night, at least.

And just two more years and three months before I’m done with high school altogether, he thought.

Nat’s phone buzzed; someone was texting him. It was probably Emily, Nat decided. But when he looked, it was Gavin’s name on the display.

His heart skipped a beat and he opened the message.

Hey there Nat, it read, You feeling better? I didn’t know if after Monday you wanted some time to yourself. I still want to see you on Saturday if you’re up to it. Just let me know if everything’s alright, k?

Nat smiled, and he typed in a reply.

Everything’s ok. Just been under the weather. Sorry for brushing you off. Looking forward to Saturday. Talk to you tomorrow.

Nat had always known just how sweet Gavin could be. But it was something else entirely to have physical proof. He read Gavin’s message a dozen more times, pretending that he could hear Gavin’s voice reading it out loud to him.

The phone buzzed again with Gavin’s reply.

That’s good :) I hope your feeling better. Can’t wait to see you. Have a good night.

Nat put his phone away. It was as if, all of a sudden, a great weight had fallen from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed having Gavin’s voice in his life. Maybe he’d just been overreacting. Honestly, Nat couldn’t even remember what it was that had made him so upset in the first place. Something about bad grades in middle school? Yeah, that was something worth getting so worked up over.

Maybe the past was better left where it was.

There was a knocking at the door. It was his mother.

“Honey, would you do me a favor and fold the laundry? I have to run out to the pharmacy before it closes to pick up your brother’s medicine.”

“Sure, mom,” Nat said, following her out the room,

The laundry room was small, and it was easy for clothes to slide down behind the washer and dryer and get lost forever. But Nat was careful. The only mistake he made became apparent when he grabbed the pile of what was supposed to be his own clothes and noticed that he’d put his brother’s boxers on the pile.

Nat grabbed the boxers, intending to put them back on his brother’s pile, but he hesitated. He unfolded one pair and held them up. It seemed silly, wearing what was essentially a second pair of shorts underneath your clothes. Nat could hardly imagine how that must feel. His own pants were far too tight and his shorts far too short to wear something like this.

He held the boxers up to his waist. Tyler was two years younger than him, but he wasn’t that much smaller than Nat was. And yet… these boxers looked like they were wider than Nat’s pants were. He checked the tag. It said they were a medium. Maybe Tyler just liked them loose or something.

Nat took a moment to scrub that mental image from his brain.

It was a clean pair, though. They’d just come out of the dryer. If Nat hid them under his pile of clothes and brought them back to his room, nobody would know. Tyler wouldn’t realize that he was missing one pair of boxers. And if he did he’d assume they fell behind the dryer. Nat could try them on and be done before anybody—

Nat dropped the boxers. No, he couldn’t do that. They were his brother’s, and Nat was a… a… wasn’t like his brother. It wouldn’t be right to go around trying on the wrong kind of clothes. Not for Nat anyway.

The thought of Tyler sneaking into Nat’s room and grabbing a pair of panties from the dresser slipped its way into Nat’s mind. He shuddered at the idea and threw his brother’s boxers back onto the rest of Tyler’s clothes.

But he gave the pile an extra-long look before leaving the room.

()()()()()()()

Nat was grateful to have a hairdryer. There was a lot in his life that he could do without (or so he told himself, anyway), but he was so glad to have a hairdryer. It made mornings so much easier. There was nothing worse than having wet hair soaking into the back of your shirt as you waited for it to dry.

Nat still had to get dressed, but he took a moment to stop and look at his hair in the bathroom mirror. He pushed it around, testing how it would look behind the ear and over the ear. He pulled it up into a mock ponytail, paying attention to how it changed the way his face looked. He’d have to decide by tomorrow if he wanted to do anything special with it or not.

But before Saturday there was a whole day of school still to get through. Nat left the bathroom and returned to his bedroom, where his outfit lay waiting on his bed. He checked the clock.

Crap, I’m late, he realized. Quickly he through one his panties and squeezed into his pants. As he pulled his shirt on, he glanced out the window. The bus was already pulling up to the bus stop. There wasn’t time to put on his shoes. Nat grabbed his flip flops from the closet and threw his jacket over his shoulder.

He made it to the bus with moments to spare and plopped down into his seat with a sigh of relief. The girl next to Nat asked him a question, and as he answered he felt his phone buzzing.

It was his mother. She’d sent him a text.

Hi honey. How about after I get home from work today we go out to that salon and get a mani-pedi for your date tomorrow? I think you’d really enjoy it. It’s very relaxing.

Nat’s stomach did a summersault. Mani-pedi? The thought of some stranger touching Nat’s hands and feet, giving them a gentle massage, painting his nails… actually, it did sound kind of relaxing. Maybe he’d give it a try. Just this once. And no nail polish. Or maybe just clear nail polish. Of course, purple was his favorite color…

Nat pulled the skirt up his legs and snug around his waist. It fell just above his knees and was decorated with the images of butterflies, a lot like the ones dancing about in Nat’s stomach. He hoped Gavin liked it as much as Nat himself did.

The sandals he chose because he liked how much they showed off his fresh toenails. Nat’s top was sleeveless, exposing his bare shoulders, and it was just long enough that that it reached down to Nat’s waist as long as he didn’t bend over. His father would have a field day if he saw this outfit; it was a small blessing that he was working through the weekend.

Nat slid on the silver bracelet Emily had lent him, and finished the outfit with a small necklace his mother had gotten him the day before. She said that it was overdo that Nat own some jewelry of his own. It was a silver chain sporting a small opal stone in the shape of a snake. His mother had to actually explain to him that it was his zodiac and birthstone. So much for being proud of his Chinese heritage…

But looking in the mirror, Nat couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. He rubbed his earlobe between his fingers. His mother had helped him tie his hair back; it wasn’t in a ponytail or anything, but it was pulled back enough for his ears to show.

“Mom!” Nat called out, cursing as his voice cracked again. He really hoped that it didn’t happen during his date.

“Yes, honey?” his mom called back from somewhere down the hallway.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any clip-on earrings that I could borrow, do you?”

After a moment, his mother told him to come into her room. When he got there, she was shifting through her jewelry box. Nat eyed it enviously. He couldn’t wait for the day he owned enough jewelry to have his own.

“Here they are,” his mother said, turning back to him.

She was holding a pair of silver clip-on earrings. They weren’t big, but they’d dangle a little.

“Come here; I’ll put them in for you.” As she did so, she added, “I’m expecting these back in one piece at the end of the night, you understand?”

“Yes, mom,” he replied.

“Promise me that I’ll get them back when you get home.”

“I promise, mom,” he said.

“Good.” She finished and held out a small mirror for Nat to see.

“It’s perfect,” he told her.

“Of course,” she replied, “I know what looks good. Are you ready to go?”

Nat nodded, still admiring himself in the mirror. Gavin was going to be blown away by what he saw.

()()()()()()()

Nat stood outside the restaurant clutching the colds of his skirt in his sweaty hands. He could see Gavin through the front window, leaning up against the wall and looking at the door where he expected to see Nat. He couldn’t see Nat from where he was standing, but maybe he could hear Nat’s heart thumping in his chest.

You’re being stupid, Nat told himself, Just calm down and go inside. He’s going to be happy to see you too.

He took a deep breath and wiped his hands on his skirt. Maybe Gavin wouldn’t notice how wrinkly it was. He licked his lips once, wishing he’d thought to put on some lip balm, and prepared a small smile that feigned confidence.

An older gentleman held the door open for Nat, and he thanked the man quietly. Gavin’s eyes lit up as Nat stepped through the door, and the smile Nat gave him this time was real as could be. Hopefully Gavin was focused on the smile and not how much Nat was blushing.

“Hey there,” Nat said.

“Hi,” Gavin replied, “You look… nice.”

“Th-thanks,” Nat stuttered. He had to turn and fake a cough to hide how much Gavin made him blush.

“You ready?” Gavin asked. Nat nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

Gavin signaled to the hostess, who guided them to an empty table. As they walked, Nat tried to gently sway his hips, just enough to get his skirt to swish a little. He couldn’t tell if Gavin noticed; he seemed too nervous to look directly at Nat. Gently, he brushed up against Gavin, who glanced down at Nat’s skirt before he could realize he was doing it.

“Here you are,” the hostess said, laying out two menus onto the little table, “The waiter will be right over.”

Nat made to sit down, but suddenly Gavin darted behind him.

“Um… let me,” he said, slowly pulling out the chair for Nat to sit down.

For a moment, Nat wasn’t sure if he was going to blush or burst out laughing, but he managed to refrain from either and sat down on the available seat. Gavin pushed his chair in before sitting down himself across from Nat.

Gavin gazed at Nat for a moment before timidly picking up his own menu.

“So,” Gavin said, glancing between Nat and the menu, “I really like your outfit.”

“Yeah,” Nat replied, “You’re the one who suggested I wear a skirt.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, “But I was… you know… worried. That you’d think I was being too forward or something.” He had started to sink down into his chair as he said this, as if he was admitting something terrible and afraid of Nat’s reaction.

“Well, maybe I just wanted someone to help me find the confidence to do it,” Nat told him.

“…really?”

“Maybe,” Nat teased, throwing Gavin a quick pity smile.

Gavin seemed to relax a little.

“Hello.” A perky older girl appeared at their table, holding a pad and pen. “My name’s Joyce and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you two something to drink?”

“I’ll have a Coke, please,” Gavin said, smiling gently at the waitress—Nat’s stomach turned ever so slightly as he did so. He told himself that it was nothing, but he still frowned.

“And you, deary?” Joyce asked.

“I’ll just have an iced tea,” Nat said.

“Okay! I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Nat watched the waitress depart; she swished her hips something fierce as she walked, even though she was in pants.

“I’m fine,” Nat lied, giving Gavin what he hoped was a believable smile. Gavin’s brown was a little furled though; he could tell that something was wrong. Nat had to say something. Maybe compliment him. Gavin had been giving compliments. It was only fair.

“Your hair looks really nice tonight,” Nat said.

“Oh, thanks. I thought I’d do something special tonight. Since it’s a special night. Special for me, anyway. Um, anyways, I used hair gel to get it this way. Something just for tonight. And maybe other nights, if we do this more than once. I’d like that. Your hair looks nice too. I mean, it always looks nice. Extra nice.”

Any remaining butterflies Nat might have had left just finished packing up and fled his stomach with Gavin’s response. He almost laughed, Gavin was just so darn nervous. But he couldn’t laugh because Gavin would be embarrassed, and that would either make Nat feel awful or burst out into another fit of giggles. At the moment it was a toss-up.

“Thank you,” Nat replied, “I thought I should do something a little special for tonight too.”

Joyce returned with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order. Nat scanned the menu briefly, settling on the first thing she saw.

“Can I get the chicken parmesan without garlic?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Joyce told him, “What would you like as a side?”

“Salad, please.” He handed his menu to the waitress, whose nails were painted a dark and bold red color. Suddenly the purple nail polish made Nat feel a little childish, and he sank down in his seat a little as Gavin gave his order.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Gavin asked.

“Yes! Absolutely,” Nat blurted out, sitting straight up in his seat. He jerked back up so quickly that he almost hit his knee on the bottom of the table.

Gavin didn’t seem to buy his super-convincing statement or the definitely-real smile Nat gave him.

“I’m fine, really,” Nat told him, dropping the smile, “I’m just a little… distracted.”

Nat didn’t want Gavin to think that he wasn’t happy to be there with him. It was just that he really didn’t want Gavin to realize that he could do better. And if Gavin really stopped to think about it he might just figure it out before the night was through—even their waitress was better at being attractive than Nat was.

“So, um, how are you doing in math?” he asked, hoping to get Gavin’s (and his own) mind off of the subject.

“Hm? Oh, Pretty good, actually, thanks to you. My grade’s gone up by like four points since you started tutoring me.”

“That’s good,” Nat said, resting his arm on the table, “Your parents must be happy, then?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, nodding, “I doubt they’d have let me come tonight if they weren’t. I guess your parents didn’t mind you coming out tonight either?”

“No,” he replied, “My mother was pretty much okay with the whole thing. My dad wasn’t too thrilled, but you know what he’s like. But he didn’t try to stop me or anything.”

“That’s good,” Gavin said. He was looking at Nat’s hand, which was still resting on the table. He laid his own arms down on the table as well, adjusting his position so that he was sitting more straight.

“I meant to ask,” he continued, “When did you get your ears pierced? I hadn’t noticed it before.”

“Oh, this.” Nat rubbed one of the earrings between his fingers. “It’s a clip-on I borrowed from my mom. My parents don’t want me to get my ears pierced yet.”

“It looks good,” Gavin told him, watching Nat put his arm back down on the table. He reached forward a little bit so his hand was just a few inches away from Nat’s own. “So, when you do get your ears pierced, are you only going to do it once? I know some people get a lot of piercings, so I’m curious.”

With the hand not in close proximity to Gavin’s own, Nat rubbed his outer ear a bit. He knew what Gavin meant—he’d seen people with piercings all the way up and down their ears, but he’d always kind of thought that was a bit much.

“I think I’ll just do one for now,” he said, “No need to rush into something I don’t know I really want. Besides, my parents wouldn’t really approve.”

“Probably not,” Gavin agreed, “But it’s your decision. And in a few years they won’t be able to stop you anyway.”

They’d try, Nat lamented, feeling his spirits drop a little. He perked right back up, however, when a bolt of energy shot through him. Something had touched his hand. It was Gavin’s hand. Gavin was touching his hand!

Nat didn’t move. For a moment, he wasn’t even breathing. He didn’t want Gavin to take his hand away. Nat bit his lip, trying to find something to say

“I like your watch, he said slyly, looking down at the arm Gavin was touching him with.

Gavin almost jerked his arm away in surprise, but instead he just squeezed Nat’s hand a little more firmly. Nat squeezed back, smiling softly.

“I have a chicken parmesan with salad and the honey-grilled shrimp with a baked potato!”

Joyce had suddenly reappeared with their order on a tray.

Nat sighed and pulled away from Gavin and Joyce placed their orders on the table. She gave Nat a slight way as she turned away, her hips bouncing as she walked away.

As they ate, Gavin talked a little more about his family. His mother was going away next month to visit her sister up north, and at her father’s insistence Gavin had already started looking for a potential summer job.

“I’ll be sure to come look for you wherever you end up,” Nat teased, taking another bite of salad and laying his other arm down on the table.

He didn’t have to wait but a moment before Gavin’s hand brushed up against his, and once again it sent a tingle throughout his body. If only they didn’t need both hands to eat, there could be a lot more handholding going on.

“What about your family?” Gavin eventually asked.

Nat swallowed and replied, “You’ve met my family. What more do you really need to know?”

Gavin seemed a little taken aback by this, but recovered quickly. “Okay, what about your brother? You never talk about him.”

Nat snorted and asked, “You want him?”

“Is he that bad?”

Natalie sighed. “Sometimes…” he admitted, “He can be a pain when he wants to be.”

“You ever think that maybe having a younger sister would be better?” Gavin asked.

“Not really. Then he’d probably just start stealing my clothes.”

Gavin frowned.

“That was a joke,” Nat explained.

“Oh! Sorry. Yeah, that was kind of funny. I guess I’m just not used to you making jokes about your family.”

“Yeah… I don’t do that often,” Nat started into his drink for a moment, pushing around his straw absentmindedly. “Can… can we talk about something else?”

Gavin reached over and took Nat’s hand in his own—no hesitation this time. Nat was shocked. He looked up at Gavin, who was smiling gently at him. Nat smiled back. And in that moment Nat realized that he didn’t have to try so hard to make Gavin happy to be with him.

They talked for a bit more, and when the check came Nat quickly glanced at Gavin’s watch. It was nearly 9:30. They’d been there for almost the full hour and a half. Nat’s mother was going to be there soon to pick him up.

Nat could have sighed. Sure, it was just dinner, but he really didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want to go back home and then have to figure out how to talk to Gavin back in school. Would they hold hands then? Would they be able to talk so freely with each other? Would Nat have the courage to wear a skirt at school, even if it was only for Gavin?

Much to Nat’s surprise, Gavin pulled out a credit card to pay for the meal.

“It’s my dad’s,” he explained, “He let me have it to use for tonight.”

Joyce took the check and card back to the register. Nat watched her go, but quickly returned his gaze to Gavin, who looked like he wanted to say something.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” he said.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Maybe we can do something like this again?”

“I’d like that. We could do something during the daytime too. Like ice cream.”

Ice cream? That’s your big romantic suggestion? Nat scolded himself, Now he’s going to think you just want to be friends.

“Ice cream might be nice,” Gavin agreed, as the waitress returned with his card.

As she turned to leave, Joyce gave Nat a knowing wink, but Nat wasn’t sure that he knew what it was supposed to mean.

Nat and Gavin walked out together, not quite hand-in-hand but standing pretty close together. Neither of their parents were waiting for them, so they stood outside the front of the restaurant, making small talk. Nat wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about. He was more concerned with leaning up against Gavin. Nat was close enough that he could actually take in Gavin’s scent. He breathed deeply, and it made him feel a little more relaxed.

It was almost a shame to see his mother’s care pull up and slow to a stop in front of the restaurant.

“That’s my car,” Nat told Gavin, his shoulders sagging a little, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gavin replied, sounding a little dejecting himself.

Nat wanted to give him a hug and say that he’d be thinking of him—something to reassure him just a little—but his mother was watching, and he didn’t want to give away just how strongly he felt about Gavin. His parents might not take it well and forbid Nat from tutoring Gavin anymore.

So instead he just offered Gavin a little goodbye wave, which he returned with a sad smile.

()()()()()()()

When Nat fell into bed that night, he couldn’t stop giggling. He had barely contained his smile during the car ride home, and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he changed out of his outfit and into some pajamas. It was just soooooo clear now; there was no point in denying it anymore. He liked Gavin, and he liked Nat back! He could have squealed with excitement.

He had to tell someone. Not his family, someone else. But he couldn’t wait! He had to talk about it now!

When it hit him, it was obvious that he could have slapped himself for not realizing it sooner. He got up from his bed and started riffling through his desk drawers. It wasn’t long before he came back up, holding an empty journal in his hands.

He opened up to the first page and grabbed a pen. He quickly scribbled down the date and moved to write about what he was feeling.

Dear…

He hesitated. Journal? No: diary.

Dear Diary, he wrote, Today, I had dinner with a very special boy. His name is Gavin Moore, and I think he might just be the most loveable boy in the world. I feel so stupid for not realizing before just how much…

Nat probably should have known better than to agree to go to the mall with his friends the day after his date with Gavin. Surprisingly, though, Nat’s mother was actually allowing him to go. She’d even given him one of her old purses to carry his wallet in, since Nat didn’t have a purse of his own. Maybe his mother had finally realized that Nat needed to spend more time with his friends outside of school.

It was Amber who had invited Nat and Emily to the mall. Nat had actually been a little surprised by this—Amber wasn’t exactly the warmest of girls, and Nat had always felt like she didn’t like him that much.

Tamara, the girl from the coffee shop, was also there, along with another girl that Nat didn’t recognize named Rachael. She had a much better purse than Nat—a turquoise satchel that must have just come out and probably cost at least a solid eighty dollars. Sure, Nat was grateful to her mother for letting him use her purse, but it’d be nice to have one that was actually in style at the moment.

“Did he pay?”

“Hm?”

Emily repeated the question: “Did he pay for the meal?”

“Yes,” Nat said, “Yes, he paid! He picked out the restaurant, set the time, and paid for the meal! Is that all?”

“My boyfriend tried to kiss my on our first date,” Tamara interrupted, “I might have let him too, except he ordered the fish.”

Emily rolled her eyes at this and Rachael laughed. Amber just told them all that they really shouldn’t be kissing someone on the first date.

“I… I didn’t kiss him,” Nat protested, hitting Tamara with his purse, “And he didn’t try to kiss me either.”

“Sure he didn’t,” Emily replied, “Because when someone puts that much effort into a date, he hasn’t thought about kissing you even once. I mean, if I were tutoring, say, Will Davis, I can assure you that I wouldn’t be happy if I weren’t being paid in French kisses.”

“Will Davis?” Amber asked, wiping her glasses on her shirt, “That’s your what-if boy?”

“Oh, and who would you choose, miss superior-judgement?”

“Eric Roman.”

“Roman? The football scrub?”

If Nat was being honest, he was more than a little glad to have the topic of conversation move away from him. He loved talking to the girls, but they could be a little prying sometimes.

“Here we are,” Tamara said, stopping them outside the Victoria’s Secret.

“Oh...” Nat muttered. He was beginning to wish he’d asked more questions before agreeing to come along.

The others went in without hesitation, but Nat stepped back.

“Oh come on,” Emily said, grabbing Nat by the arm and pulling him into the store with her.

Nat knew that there was no reason to be uncomfortable. It’s just that he’d never shopped for underwear with anyone before. Well… his mother, but she didn’t count.

The other girls had already started looking through bras when Nat and Emily caught up to them. Some were flowery, some were lacy. They all looked a bit too complicated for Nat’s taste. What was wrong with a simple design?

“What about this?” Tamara asked, holding up a bra with a white mini-leopard-print pattern, “I could wear it with a really low-cut top.”

Nat giggled with the other girls, and glanced down at his chest. The top he was wearing already showed off his breasts. It wasn’t a lot, but everyone could still see. Of course, now that they could all see his breasts, he was kind of wishing that he’d worn a jacket.

It wasn’t that they were too exposed. He would have worn a jacket if that were it. It’s just… they were kind of small. Even for his family. So Nat folded his arms across his chest, trying to push them up just a little bit.

Tamara giggled; she’d spotted Nat pushing up his boobs.

“Maybe Nat should get a push-up bra?” she suggested.

“No, that’s okay,” Nat said, stepping back, “I shouldn’t. I couldn’t afford it.”

“Yeah,” Emily said, eyes lighting up, “It would look great on you. Hold on, let me find one.”

“Really guys…” Nat insisted, but he really didn’t have a good argument to stop them. That, and… he was more than just a little curious.

“Try this one,” Tamara said, holding out a small, blue, lacy bra out for Nat to take. “Changing rooms are over there.”

Nat wandered over into the dressing rooms and slid into an empty one. Once there, he pulled his shirt off, exposing his bare breasts to the mirror inside. They looked so, so small. They still jiggled as he moved though; nobody could say that he was flat-chested, at least.

Getting the bra on was a bit of a struggle for Nat. Finally, though, he had both straps over his shoulders and got the darn thing hooked. It felt like he’d wrapped a towel around his chest. But looking in the mirror, he had to say that it helped. It looked like he had breasts he could actually show people without feeling self-conscious now. And Tamara had been really good at picking out the right size.

Okay, maybe it was a little tight.

Of course, even if it did look good (and it did), there was still his parents to think about Nat’s father hated the idea of him wearing anything except the most modest of outfits. And his mother was only a little more lenient.

With a little bit of effort, Nat managed to pull the bra back off and set it to the side. He turned around to look for… something. He thought there’d been another bra, but there was nothing there. He only remembered Tamara handing him one.

He took a step back and his shoe caught on something. Looking down, Nat saw a plain beige bra lying on the floor. It clearly wasn’t a Victoria’s Secret product; it must have fallen when Nat wasn’t looking.

Nat scooped the bra off the floor and slid it on over his shoulders. It still felt a little odd for some reason, and no amount of adjusting would fix it. Finally he gave up and just threw his top on over it. It’s not like anyone could see it anyway.

He grabbed the push-up bra and left, returning to where the others had been standing. They were a little ways away, looking at panties now. Nat put down the bra where Tamara had grabbed it from and ran over to meet them.

“How’d it fit?” Emily asked.

“A little tight,” Nat admitted, picking up a pair of red hiphuggers and checking the size. He might not have the freedom to wear whatever bras he wanted, but his mom was a bit more liberal when it came to his choice of panties. As long as she didn’t think he was showing it off to anyone, Nat could wear just about anything he wanted.

“I bet you-know-who would like that,” Emily whispered, causing Nat to blush. The most embarrassing part of that was how he didn’t know if he’d already been thinking the same thing, or if Emily had planted the idea in his head.

()()()()()()()

At Emily’s insistence, the group went next to a salon in search of lipstick. Emily said that it was for Nat’s next date with Gavin (“It’s not official yet,” Nat had complained. “Not yet,” Emily had replied). There was all kinds of makeup in the salon, so the rest of the group split up to take care of their own needs. But Emily and Amber stuck to Nat to help him out.

They looked through a few different colors, mostly reds and pinks, but also a few shades of blue and (just for fun) a bit of green too. Maybe it was just the mirror, and maybe it was the fact that he was trying something new, but Nat couldn’t help feeling that his lips were… fuller… than they should have been.

“As long as we’re buying me a new wardrobe,” he joked as they rang up his purchase, gesturing to the Victoria’s secret bag on his other arm, “Why don’t we go look at new purses as well?”

“Do you need a new purse?” Emily asked, examining the purse on Nat’s arm.

“I could always stop to look at new purses,” Tamara said, “My uncle got this purse for me; he saved the life of the manager of a Belk where he lived and now he gets everything half-priced.”

There was a JCPenny in the mall, so the girls too Nat there to look at bags and purses.

“That one looks nice,” Nat lamented, eyeing the absurd price tag.

“There’s a clearance rack over there,” Emily pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess that’s the best I can afford… isn’t that Alexis?”

“Oh yeah. Hey Lexi!” Emily called, waving to her.

Alexis and her boyfriend stopped and waved back. Nat stared at the boy; he seemed familiar. Nat wanted to say that his name was Hunter. He remembered… running into Hunter once, coming out of a stall in the bathroom at school. That didn’t feel right, but Nat couldn’t shake the feeling that it was true.

“Nat?” Tamara asked, trying to get his attention.

“Sorry,” Nat replied, “Just thinking.”

Nat shoved the memory to the side, but couldn’t help take another glance at Hunter as he and Alexis walked away.

()()()()()()()

Nat poked at his food with his fork. Part of him found it ironic that a Chinese-American family was eating Chinese takeout for dinner, but his mind really wasn’t on the food.

“What’s wrong, honey?” his mother asked.

Tyler, sitting beside Nat, snickered. Nat cast him a dark look.

“I… guess I’m just not very hungry.” It wasn’t a lie. Something about this meal was just so… unappealing.

“He’s thinking about his boyfriend,” Tyler taunted.

“Tyler, leave your brother alone,” their dad warned him.

Tyler grumbled something under his breath.

“And Nat,” their father continued, “You know that I don’t like you fooling around with boys instead of studying. Focus on your schoolwork.”

Nat didn’t reply. Something was off. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d never fund Chinese food so unappealing, though.

“May I be excused?” he asked suddenly.

“But you’re not done with your meal,” his mother told him.

“I’m… not feeling well.”

That wasn’t really a lie either.

“Okay. Go ahead and lie down for a bit.”

Nat got up from the table and left through the kitchen. As he did so, he paused and picked up a fortune cookie. He almost opened it right there, but something made him stop. He darted back to his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Sitting in his chair, Nat turned the fortune cookie over in his hands. He was missing something. That much was obvious. He just couldn’t figure out what. What was wrong? He remembered back to having seen that boy Hunter earlier in the day. And before that, there were other things, weren’t there?

Why’d he never get his ears pierced like everyone else? Why did he put so much focus on shaving his body hair? When did he begin eating lunch with a bunch of girls? Why did he have such long hair? When did he start answering to “Nat” like it was his name? What was the point of wearing such revealing clothes?

When did he stop being a… boy?

He crushed the fortune cookie in his hand and let the pieces fall to the ground.

What had it said? What had it said?! Something about love? And on the flip side? He couldn’t remember exactly, but he thought the word had been… sex? Gender? He’d gotten a fortune cookie talking about love and gender, and then… the games on his bookshelf being replaced, new shoes appearing in the closet, all his underwear being replaced.

And then on and on, one change after another, until he was wearing a skirt on dates and trying on lipstick in the mall. All these recent feelings—they weren’t teenage angst or self-doubt, they were him realizing that he was doing something wrong. But then he’d forget. Even something as obvious as forgetting which table he sat at just barely registered before it slipped from his mind forever.

But the worst part, by far, was that he had almost figured it out! Just a week ago he’d been helping Tyler with his homework, and Nathan could tell that something was wrong. But every day he forgot more and more who he was supposed to be.

Nathan wanted to scream. He wanted to shout and throw his books and topple over his furniture. He wanted to take a baseball bat and shatter every mirror in the house. He wanted to tear the clothes from his closet and set them on fire.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose control. Not now. Not while he still had the upper hand. Whatever was going on was tied to that oddly-colored fortune cookie, and this was the only chance he had to do something about it.

He turned to his computer and entered the name of the Chinese restaurant into the search bar. The first result that came up was the very restaurant. It wasn’t… too far, and it hadn’t yet closed.

I’d never get there in time, he decided, noting for the first time that even his voice in his head sounded girly. Even his voice had been taken from him.

He really wanted to lie down and cry.

There was clearly no way to get to the restaurant. No way was one of his parents going to drive him all the way there, even if they hadn’t already gone once to pick up food. And somehow the thought of walking all the way there in the dark only to have to break in and search for clues wasn’t all that appealing, especially while looking like a teenage girl.

I probably look twelve, he though. Even in high school people made fun of him for looking so much younger than he was. It wasn’t nearly as bad in middle school, but he was surprised that nobody had mistaken him for prepubescent yet.

Maybe that was what was happening. He wasn’t just transforming into a girl, he was regressing into a child. Next year, he could be a freshman again and not remember having ever been any older. There was just no way to know.

He’d have to be careful. Very careful.

Nathan pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and thought about what to write.

Nathan, he wrote, A few weeks ago your family got takeout Chinese. Afterward…

Once the letter was finished, Nathan taped it to the back of his bedroom door so he’d have to see it when he woke up. But his work wasn’t done. He was still wearing painted-on jeans, girls’ panties, and a revealing shirt.

Nathan quietly ducked out into the hall. Dinner must have been over by now, but he could hear the TV running in the living room. On the way to the laundry room, Nathan took a quick peak and saw both Tyler and their father sitting on the couch watching the screen.

Nathan checked the dryer for finished clothes, but it was empty. Their mom must have already finished putting clothes away for the night.

“Dammit,” he cursed, “Plan B.’

Nathan walked back toward his room, but stopped and tried to silently open the door to Tyler’s room. He moved quickly, opening the door to the closet and grabbing the first tee shirt he saw. He closed it swiftly and started pulling open dresser drawers. His heart was pounding in his chest. There was no way he could explain this if he got caught. He pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and shut the drawers, darting out of the room and closing the door behind him.

The rest of the house remained how it was.

Nathan let out a sigh of relief and returned to his own room. He tried not to look at the décor. He locked the door behind him so no one could see what was going on. He slid out of his clothes, even taking off his panties and bra.

Then he pulled on his brother’s boxers. They fit loosely at the waist, sliding down and resting on his hips. Nathan could feel the top of his butt exposed. He quickly pulled on the tee shirt, which was orange and with a motto that Nathan didn’t recognize. It was also a little loose, but the extra space was filled out by Nathan’s breasts. He did his best to ignore them, but his nipples were really sensitive against the fabric of Tyler’s shirt.

Finally, Nathan crawled into bed and curled up in his blankets. For a while, he just stared up at the ceiling, too afraid to close his eyes. What if he woke up in the morning and couldn’t remember any of the things he’d learned? He forgot everything else so quickly—what was to stop it from happening again?

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a sob escaped his throat, but eventually it became just too difficult to stay awake.

()()()()()()()

Shutting off the alarm, Nathan rubbed his eyes and stretched. After a moment, he realized that he was wearing his brother’s clothes.

“The Hell?” he asked himself, “Why did I…?”

He’d gone into his brother’s room and pulled out his clothes… so that he wouldn’t have to wear his own? But why would he do that?

The letter!

Nathan jumped out of bed and ran to the note on the door. He quickly read through it a few time, letting it all sink in. He’d come so close to forgetting it all.

He’d been smart enough to detail his plain in the letter, but it turned out to be unnecessary. He knew what he had to do.

Quickly, Nathan changed into a pair of girls’ pajamas, though he left the boxers on. He shivered at the realization that they both fit and felt more comfortable than what he’d been wearing.

He climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over himself tight. A short while later, there came a knocking at the bedroom door. He ignored it, but his gut turned a bit. In a few minutes he heard it again, and his mother asked through the door if he was okay. She didn’t even wait for an answer; she just came right in to look for him.

Nathan saw her come in and turned over in his bed, giving what he hoped was a convincing moan.

“I don’t feel so good,” he not-quite-lied.

“Oh, sweetie,” his mom said, laying her hand on his forehead, “Is this the same thing that you had last night?”

“I think so…” Nathan mumbled.

His mother left, and Nathan groaned for real this time. He hated lying to her. He knew pretending to be sick would do it. He never tried getting out of school, so when he said he was too sick to go he was too sick to go; last time it was because he had caught pneumonia. This was the first time he’d ever lied about being sick, though, and it was just the latest in a long line of unpleasant changes to Nathan’s life.

These thoughts and more ran through Nathan’s head as he waited in bed. His mother must have assured his father that it was serious, though, because his father didn’t come in to check on him.

He heard the front door open once. That would be his mother. A few minutes passed. The front door opened again. His father. Another ten minutes. The door. Tyler was gone. But Nathan waited; there was always the chance Tyler would run back inside and grab something else, and Nathan could not afford to be caught.

Nathan heard the school bus come and go, but still he waited for a few minutes. Then, with a deep breath, he jumped out of bed. He could not wait to get out of these girls’ pajamas.

Tyler’s room was a bit of a mess. Nathan wasn’t exactly a stranger to messes (though his own room was more than a little too clean for his liking thanks to the fortune cookie), but something about it being his younger brother’s room made it feel gross.

He grabbed a new pair of boxers, the smallest tee shirt he could find in the closet, a sweater, and… where were the sweatpants?

Nathan let out a moan. Tyler must have worn them and thrown them in the laundry. Worst-case scenario: Nathan was going to be wearing his brother’s dirty laundry. He wasn’t even going to bother with finding a pair of his brother’s socks or shoes. He’d wear his own girly pair—at least they’d fit.

The sweatpants were still in the dryer, but they were done. Apparently it was okay to let laundry go through the night, but there still wasn’t enough time to put it away in the morning. All the same, he pants were dry and that was all that mattered.

With “his” clothes ready, Nathan jumped quickly into the shower and rinsed off. No shampoo, no body wash. He might not be able to pass as a boy (and what he wouldn’t have given to cut his hair, but if this didn’t go well he didn’t want to face his parents with a bunch of hair missing), but he wasn’t going to act like a girl.

Wet hair soaked into the back of the sweatshirt as Nathan pulled on his socks and shoes. He grabbed all the money from his wallet, but he wasn’t feeling all that confident. How much money would he need? He’d never done this before.

When he first turned fifteen, Nathan’s mother had told him where they kept $150 in case of emergency, and he swore not to touch it unless something had happened to both her and Nathan’s father. Nathan’s stomach turned as he thought of taking that money, but what choice did he have now?

Once he had the money, Nathan picked up the phone. He’d gotten the number from the internet. He had to make this work.

The phone rang, and someone picked up. It was the local taxi service. Nathan gave them the address, almost wincing at the south of his own voice.

Nathan sat on the couch to wait. The blinds on the window were open so Nathan could see when the cab arrived. His stomach was still turning. Half of him was sure that he was just floundering, searching for clues that weren’t there. He’d feigned being sick and stolen from his parents just to run off and find a takeout Chinese restaurant.

He turned on the TV while he waited, hoping to take his mind off of the feelings in his gut. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed, and Nathan jumped like a gun had gone off. He checked, and his heart sank to see that Gavin had texted him.

Where are you?

Nathan could have cried. Gavin was in love with him. And for the past few weeks Nathan thought he was in love with Gavin. He almost threw up right there on the couch.

Maybe it was the cookie or maybe it was because he still thought of Gavin as his friend, but either way Nathan didn’t want to leave him clueless about what was going on.

Not feeling well, he texted back, Staying home.

It took a few minutes for a reply to come back.

So sad. Get better. Miss you already.

Poor guy, Nathan thought, He’s afraid to go too fast. Doesn’t know what to say. He would have been sympathetic, if it weren’t that he was the boy that Gavin was trying to date. Sure, he knew that it wasn’t Gavin’s fault he though Nathan was a girl, but that didn’t change the fact that Nathan wasn’t at all attracted to Gavin.

He turned his phone to silent. He didn’t want to have to read all the messages when his… “girlfriends” wanted to know where he was.

The taxi arrived and Nathan walked out to meet it. He slid into the back seat, shrinking down to make himself seem as small as possible.

“Uh… hey kid,” the driver began, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I’m sick,” he lied curtly, “My parents were supposed to pick me up, but they’re swamped and asked me to meet them at their restaurant.”

“Oh… kay. You’ve got money?”

Nathan flashed the wad of cash and gave him the address. He sat in silence for the entirety of the ride, looking out the window as the world passed him by. It was a world that apparently didn’t want him enough to remember him as who he was.

Again Nathan felt tears welling up, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t move to wipe his eyes dry. He didn’t want the driver to start asking questions.

The cap stopped and Nathan paid his fair. The cab took off as soon as the door was closed. And Nathan was left standing outside the building he blamed for all his problems.

This was it. Whatever happened in this building would hopefully determine if he woke up tomorrow as a boy or a girl. Either he’d get his answers, or the owner would call the cops about the girl who was blaming him for some kind of witchcraft.

Nathan took a deep breath and opened the door.

The inside of the restaurant was cool, even through Nathan’s (Tyler’s) sweatshirt, and dimly lit. There weren’t a lot of people about, possibly due to it still being nine in the morning. Nathan had made sure that the restaurant was open before he came, but it was only now occurring to him how odd it was for a Chinese restaurant to be open so darn early in the day.

There was a man at the counter—Chinese, fittingly enough. He glanced up when Nathan came in, but quickly returned to his crossword puzzle. Nathan came up to the counter and opened his mouth, but closed it again once he realized how dry it was.

“Can I help you… miss?” the man asked, taking a moment to gauge Nathan’s sex.

His disinterest cleared up, however, once Nathan’s face turned red.

“I’d like… to see… the owner,” he stuttered, almost not even trying to contain his anger anymore.

“I’m the owner,” the man said, “My name is Brian Lee. How can I help you?”

Nathan took a deep breath…

…and realized that he had absolutely no idea what to say.

Absolutely nothing he could say at this point would sound sane or rational. No matter how hard he believed it, it simply did not make sense that a fortune cookie from a takeout Chinese place (that admittedly had a pretty nice-looking buffet inside) could transform him from a boy into a girl. And there’s no way something like that could happen without anyone noticing the effect it was having on him.

Maybe he had multiple personalities. Or what was it called? Dissa… Diss… something Disorder. Maybe he only thought he was a boy because he had convinced himself that to hide a traumatic memory, and now the false memories were just bleeding into reality. Sure, when he squeezed his legs, he could still feel his manhood, but everything else about being a boy felt real too.

Maybe this was Hell. He’d gotten killed in a car accident and his punishment for his sins was for his personality and memories to be slowly wiped away, and he was only allowed to recognize it right before the end. And then he’d be gone permanently, not just dead.

How did he know this hadn’t happened before? That he’d been born a girl and first transformed into a boy? Or maybe it started in the opposite direction every time the transformation ended.

The man was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. Nathan couldn’t just say nothing.

“Mr. Lee, my name is Nathan Chan, and… and I…”

Mr. Lee held up a hand to stop him from talking. For a moment, he looked down at Nathan, examining his face and outfit.

“You said your name was Nathan Tran?” he asked.

“Chan,” Nathan corrected in a small voice.

“But Nathan, right?”

He squeaked out a “yes.”

“And over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed some odd… changes in your life?”

Nathan lit up, nodding his head frantically.

“Yes!” he cried, “You know, don’t you?! You know!”

“Hush, Nathan!” Mr. Lee snapped, glancing over to one of the few occupied tables in the restaurant. Nathan looked around, and indeed everyone there was looking at them.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Just come into the back,” Mr. Lee instructed, gesturing Nathan to follow, “I’ll explain what’s going on.”

Nathan’s gut twisted at the thought. Following a strange man who claims to know what’s going on with him? That was almost the definition of “stranger danger,” wasn’t it? But a moment ago Nathan had been doubting his own sanity, and it seemed like this was the only chance he had of really learning the truth. So he followed.

There were other people in the kitchen, working on food. The owner walked over to a corner of the kitchen, where someone was working on making fortune cookies. Mr. Lee whispered something into his ear, and the worker took a long glance at Nathan as he walked away. Nathan once again tried to make himself look as small as possible.

Mr. Lee was searching through a batch of fortune cookies for something. He didn’t even look at Nathan as he asked, “Do you remember what the fortune said?”

“Something about… meeting my true love?” Nathan’s voice was almost too small to be heard.

“And the word on the back?”

“I think ‘gender’ or something.”

Mr. Lee finally turned around, holding an off-colored fortune cookie. It was darker than a normal fortune cookie, almost brown instead of tan.

“And it looked like this?”

“Yeah!” Nathan cried, perking up for a moment, “I mean… yes, it was.”

The owner placed a hand on Nathan’s shoulder, bending down and looking into his eyes.

“Let me explain what happened,” he offered, “We make our own fortune cookies on site here. Every now and then, we find one that’s the wrong color. They don’t come out of the oven this way, or it wouldn’t be a problem. No, they only turn brown after we’ve placed the fortune inside of it, so we don’t know what fortunes are affected.”

Mr. Lee took a deep sigh and muttered, “Honestly, we don’t know if they really turn brown or if they’re being replaced. Just that when we count, we always have exactly the number we’re supposed to.”

He stood up straight again and continued, “At first, we didn’t think anything of it. Then a few people started coming in and telling us that things about their lives were changing, and they always mentioned it starting with a brown fortune cookie. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to understand the connection.”

“Whatever the fortune said came true,” Nathan guessed.

“Yes. Although it’s impossible to predict how. Nobody keeps the slip of paper, of course, but it seems like you got a pretty straightforward fortune. Some of the changes are… odd. But everybody always mentions the same problem.”

“They don’t realize what’s happening to them,” Nathan supplied.

“Right. There have got to be people who go through the entire transformation without ever noticing. Of course, it could be as simple as getting the winning lottery ticket, and I’d have no way of knowing. Not without having someone crack one open and trying to measure the results myself.”

“But nobody noticed when I started turning into a girl!” Nathan whisper-shouted.

“No, they wouldn’t have. Nobody ever notices. Even the people who aren’t involved. The transformation is that complete. It could have happened to anyone you knew and you’d have no idea.”

He paused, allowing Nathan to take in the full extent of what that meant. Anybody in his life—his friends, his brother, his parents, maybe even the president of the United States could have been transformed without the world even noticing.

“But how?” he asked.

“I still don’t know,” Mr. Lee admitted, “Fortune cookies are the culmination of several different cultures, some of which were renowned for supposedly having access to magic. I used to be a rational man, but since these cookies started appearing…”

“Then stop giving them away!” Nathan practically exploded.

“I’ve tried!” Mr. Lee threw the fortune cookie into a nearby trashcan and turned to point at the counter, where it had suddenly appeared yet again. “And I can’t just break them without risking them working on me. I stopped making them myself, and then they just started arriving with the cookies that we bought from other companies. So I moved across the country, and they followed me. I’d have quit my job if I knew how to do anything else. At least this way I feel like I have some awareness of what’s going on.”

“And I just got unlucky, right?”

The bitterness in Nathan’s voice made Mr. Lee wince. But the man retained his composure and held up a finger (“one moment, please”) to Nathan before turning around and opening a drawer.

From the drawer he pulled a half-empty vial of translucent pink liquid and held it out for Nathan to see.

“This is the antidote.”

Nathan’s heart leapt. He reached forward, but Mr. Lee pulled away.

“Not so fast.”

Nathan’s heart sank.

“It’s not as simple as taking a drink. This potion is very hard to mix, but it can undo the effects of the cookie’s fortune. But… as far along as you are, Nathan… it won’t undo everything.”

This time Nathan did wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Well why not?!” he demanded, “Why the fuck not?! Just make more of it you stupid… stupid…”

A sob escaped his throat and he lowered his head to cry freely. Mr. Lee again put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder, but Nathan pulled away and turned from him.

“Nathan,” Mr. Lee said softly, “We are making more. Constantly. But it takes time. A lot of time. And ingredients have to be imported from all over the world. This is all we have. If we wait any longer, it will be too late for you. You can only forcibly slow down the spell for so long.”

“I just want to go back to normal,” Nathan whispered.

“That’s just not possible the way you want it to be,” Mr. Lee insisted, “If you don’t drink, you’ll finish the transformation and then being a girl will be normal. If you do, it will undo as much as possible, and you’ll still think your life had always been that way. And then that will be normal.”

“…what will happen if I drink it then?”

Mr. Lee sighed again and tried to explain, “It’s unpredictable, but I can guess based on what I’ve seen. You might become a very effeminate boy, or an intersex child, or a girl who wants to be a boy. No matter how it plays out, you’re going to keep elements from both your old and new identities. But you won’t truly be one or the other.”

Nathan was quiet for a minute. The kitchen continued to work around them, hustling and bustling as if nothing was wrong. They’re probably seen it all before.

“How?” he asked.

“How what?”

“How do you make this antidote?”

“Oh. It’s a long and complicated process—”

“How do you know how to make it if you don’t even know how these fortune cookies work? If you can’t even break one open to study it?” He looked Mr. Lee right in the eye as he spoke, and Mr. Lee was faltering.

“It’s taken me a long time,” he claimed.

Nathan wasn’t convinced.

“And if the antidote really does erase all memories, how can you have seen it work before at all? You know more than your telling me,” pointing a dainty but accusatory finger at Mr. Lee.

Instead of denying it, Mr. Lee just sagged his shoulders. His eyes glazed over and he repeated, “I used to be a rational man, Nathan.”

“You haven’t answered me,” Nathan said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mr. Lee insisted, “You already don’t trust me. No point in making things worse. But everything I did tell you is true, and you really do have to make a choice. Are you happy enough as a girl, or do you want to risk the random outcome?”

Nathan knew that he couldn’t trust Mr. Lee. But he knew that much when he’d agreed to come back into the kitchen. But if he was going to lose his memory anyway, the worst thing that the potion could do was kill him. Or maybe he really could overcome this on his own, and the potion would just wipe his mind and let the transformation continue unchecked.

But if Mr. Lee was telling the truth…

None of the decisions that Nathan had made over the past weeks… none of them had really been his, had they? His entire life had effectively been hijacked; it was no longer his. It belonged to a girl that was using his body and making it into her own.

But at the same time… he had been feeling kind of… happy, lately. Much more so than before this all began, for sure. And Gavin… even if he only thought of Gavin as a friend, he still remembered the tingle of that boy touching his arm. Part of him wanted to believe that they could be happy together if he just let Gavin have a chance.

Nathan had always been ambitious and hardworking, and not just because his family demanded it of him. But Nat was… relaxed. He—alright, she—actually belonged with her friends instead of just hanging around them for company. And even though she was timid and easily embarrassed sometimes, Nathan knew that there were hints of a playful streak within her wanting to come out, if only in the way that she teased Gavin occasionally.

Of course, if drinking the potion really did undo only part of it, he might be able to keep all the good stuff without having to actually give up being a boy. Like, a 1 in 3 chance, according to Mr. Lee.

“Has anyone ever turned down the antidote before?” Nathan asked.

“Not that I can remember,” Mr. Lee said sadly, “Just because the cookies follow me doesn’t mean I’m immune to their effects, unfortunately.”

Then, with a sad flicker in his eyes, Mr. Lee asked “Do you know what you want to do?”

Nathan looked into his eyes. He couldn’t tell how old Mr. Lee was, but at that moment he looked like he had seen civilizations rise and fall before his eyes, and it made him look tired.

“Yes, I do.”

Nat woke up feeling groggy. The potion had made him incredibly exhausted—

He bolted upright. The potion! He’d—

The empty vial was still on his bed table. He had tried to down it all at once, but a little bit of pink fluid still clung to the inside of the container.

It didn’t work.

Nat closed his eyes and curled his hands into fists.

It didn’t work.

It didn’t fucking work!

For all of that asshole’s promises, the potion hadn’t done anything!

He grabbed the vial, intent on licking out as much of the remaining juice as he could so that he could just forget all of it!

No sooner had he wrapped his hand around the glass, though, than something made him stop. When he had gone to bed, he was still wearing his brother’s tee shirt. But now he was back in his pajamas. Not his pajamas, but the pajamas he’d been wearing for several weeks now.

There’s no way that Nat—no way that Nathan would… that Nat would willingly change back into…

Nat slid out of bed and stumbled over to his vanity, eyes still a little blurry from tears and exhaustion.

There was a girl’s face in the mirror staring back at him. He could see her little breasts outlined by the pajamas, and when he looked down they were on his body too. A quick squeeze of his legs confirmed that he was also missing his manhood entirely.

Nat fell back into his desk chair and groaned. He—she—he needed to figure out what had happened. But everything was still so cloudy in his head.

She managed to find her phone (his phone, he thought; he managed to find hisphone) and quickly looked up the number for the restaurant. He only briefly stopped to notice how second-nature typing with long nails seemed to be.

When the restaurant picked up, Nat asked to hear from Mr. Lee.

“Tell him it’s Nat… Nathan,” she said.

He rubbed his forehead. Why was it so hard to pick one word over the other?

After a moment, a new voice came to the phone.

“Hello, Nathan?” Mr. Lee asked.

“Yes. I… what exactly is the potion supposed to do?”

“You’ve already taken it, right?”

“Y-yes. Yes, I have. And I… I still remember everything.”

“That’s normal, Nathan.”

“This was supposed to fix everything!”

“Nathan, please. Calm down. Just… take a while to let things settle and get your bearings. I trust that you’ll be satisfied with the results.”

Nathan began to reply, but the phone cut off.

With a strained groan, Nathan chucked the phone across the room, where it hit the wall and bounced off, leaving a small dent.

He really hoped that his parents wouldn’t notice that. He’d never be able to explain it.

He hoped his phone was okay, too.

Nat looked around the room (His room? Her room? Sometimes it felt like one, sometimes the other), and most of it was pretty much what it had been when he fell to sleep.

A bookshelf of young adult novels, most of which he remembered very fondly. A few T-rated games occupied the shelf as well, giving her an excuse to use her Xbox from time to time.

A closet of shirts, blouses, and dresses, all of which he’d worn (no—which he remembered wearing, but never actually had. Right?) and some of which he could remember buying specifically over the last year or two. His mother was always telling him to wear dresses more, but he was always a pants kind of girl.

There was his purse, which was a hand-me-down from his mother.

Her backpack was leaning up against the wall. It was a Hello Kitty backpack, which she always swore that she wore ironically but really just had some fond memories of the character.

Nat shook her head. His head. Her head.

It was getting increasingly hard to be sure.

On the side table by the bed was a diary. He held it in his hands for a few minutes, barely even breathing, before opening it up to the first page.

The first entry was dated six months ago, and told of Nat’s adventures with Emily, Amber, Julia, and all of her other friends and acquaintances. It told of stories of her dealing with her brother, who liked to get on her nerves just for being a girl. It told of her long-time crush on Gavin and how ecstatic she was to get his attention and learn that he liked her too. It told of the M-rated action games that she kept hidden in the box spring of her bed to play when Gavin came over. It told of her as a whole different person than what she remembered being.

Deep in the closet were other volumes of her diary, in which Nat learned about her vacations to her grandparents’, her various friends growing up, the kind of Halloween costumes she wore, the boys she liked, the arguments she had with her parents and all the times she’d been grounded, her first dream job to become a ballerina, and the actual ballet lessons she’d taken once upon a time.

She couldn’t stop reading about herself, and with each new entry the memories of what never happened felt more and more real than her memories of what did happen.

She remembered sitting with Kyle and Jesse at the lunch table with Gavin. But every fiber of her being said that she only knew those two in passing, as Gavin’s friends who she wasn’t terribly fond of.

And, truth be told, she didn’t really mind, because she wasn’t that fond of them. Not that they remembered her ever being a boy anyway.

If she remembered two lives, and knew for a fact which one was real and which wasn’t, but everyone else only remembered the fake life, which set of memories was true?

She put the diary she held to the side and left her room to get a drink. Maybe not being surrounded by so much sensory overload at once would clear her head.

She passed by the living room, where she’d often sat as a child watching cartoons and still often sat to watch the occasional teen drama when she was bored. Sometimes the family would gather around the TV, boys on one side and girls on the other.

She passed by her parents’ room, which had her mother’s vanity where Nat first learned to apply makeup, only to vow never to do it again, only to give in eventually anyway.

She entered the kitchen, where she had once tried and failed to learn how to bake over the course of several weeks.

Nat took a long drink of water, trying not to look at anything in particular lest it reawaken some other false memory within her.

The sound of the front door opening caused her to drop the glass in surprise, but it was plastic so it merely bounced off the ground harmlessly.

Nat instinctively grabbed for a towel and bent over to start cleaning up, when her dad walked into the kitchen to check up on her.

“Natalie, are you feeling better?”

The name sounded so natural, coming from him. But that was because, according to Nat’s new memories, her parents and brother were the only people she allowed to call her that. Well, them and Gavin, if he ever wanted to.

“A little,” she answered weakly, standing up, “I woke up thirsty.”

“Don’t worry about the mess,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I appreciate the help, but you clearly need more sleep. Just take a water bottle and head back to your room, okay? I’ll clean up here.”

“Okay. Thanks dad,” she said, still not entirely certain where their relationship was in this version of reality.

“And be sure to call your friends and get the homework you missed, once you have the chance,” he added.

Nat couldn’t help but grin a little as she relaxed. That was more like the father she remembered.

“I will, dad, thanks,” she said.

Then, though her gut turned a little, she let instinct take over and reached up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, now you’re going to get me sick,” he joked, playfully pushing her away.

Nat returned to her room and placed the water bottle down on the table. She grabbed her phone and checked the time. Her father was back early; Gavin would still be in school. Still, she sent him a quick text.

Hey Gavin. Still feel a little sick. Hope you’re okay.

She climbed back onto her bed and leaned against the headboard, sifting through new and old memories and trying to figure out which was which.

Before long, she got a text back.

That sucks. Still thinking of you. Get better soon.

She smiled and replied.

Thanks. Spent the day reading some of my old diaries and thinking about all the stuff I’m happy for.

Did he need to know that? She quickly deleted it all and started over.

Thinking of you too. Love you.

Had they said “the L word” yet? She couldn’t quite remember.

She sent the text anyway. If he was surprised, she could pretend it was the fever clouding her judgment.

He texted back: Love you too, Nat.

Nat couldn’t help the excited giggles that burst from her when she read that. She clutched the phone to her chest. How could she ever have doubted her feelings for him?

She quickly sent one last text back—It’s okay if you call me Natalie, Gav. Just not in front of our friends. Gonna get back to sleep now. I’ll probably be dreaming of you.--before setting her phone to silent and putting it aside.

Nat lied back down in bed and wrapped herself up in her covers, turning over and quickly drifting back to sleep.