This version has had some long overdue editing. Thanks to Puddin' for the help.

Never underestimate the power of love.

(The transgender element doesn't start until well into the story but it's still a strong part of the story.)

NOTE: Votes and comments have been disabled for this story. Please just relax and enjoy it if you care to read it.

The Magic of Love
by Terry Volkirch

Part 1

Amelia Wilson led a truly charmed life, but she wasn't happy. Her luck ran out when her mother decided to drag her to another state. She'd have to spend her senior year at a different high school.

She loved the area where she grew up. The mountains and snow of Colorado gave her comfort and peace, and she didn't mind having only a couple casual girlfriends and neighbors to talk to once in a blue moon. The long hours of rewarding private study more than made up for her lack of a social life. She wouldn't trade her home for anything, yet here she was, sitting in the front passenger seat of an old, beat up station wagon while her mother drove them far away.

"Why do we have to move?" she whined, just after they crossed into Idaho.

The two of them shared driving duty, traveling hundreds of miles across the country, and they were both hot and tired. Jobs had been scarce and Amelia's mother had to go wherever she could to find one. They held a last minute yard sale, sold their modest house in Denver and headed towards the West Coast, the land of plenty.

"Not again, Amelia, please." Cassandra dearly loved her daughter to the point of spoiling her, but perhaps that was part of the problem. She had to find some way to show her daughter that life wasn't always easy. Adversity built character and made the good things in life seem all the better.

"Why can't we just ... you know," Amelia suggested. "Why do we have to drive this piece of junk?"

"I told you before, Dear. Our gift isn't limitless. There's always a cost. We have to learn to do some things ourselves."

"But Mom!"

"Don't 'But Mom' me, Missy. We've driven this far. We can drive the rest of the way."

Amelia pouted but quickly stopped when she saw her mother ignoring her so well.

"Besides," the older woman said, grinning in victory. "You can use more practice."

Amelia squeaked in protest but said nothing more for a good many miles.

***

The Wilsons nursed their old car along and stayed in motels until they arrived in Corvallis, Oregon two days later. Sunshine and pleasantly warm air greeted them, along with a lot of friendly faces and a surprisingly large number of bicyclists. It was a beautiful little city.

Cassandra loved it but Amelia wasn't impressed. The teen had done a little research and knew she'd hate it. The first thing that caught her eye was the weather. It rained a lot more and snowed a lot less in Corvallis than it did in Denver. That alone would depress her. Then there was the drab little house they'd be living in.

Before their trip, her mother checked the Internet and arranged to rent the house, preferring it over an apartment. It might be a good deal but some moron painted it a putrid green. She didn't know what her mother was thinking. The color made her nauseous just thinking about it.

Still, the house wasn't a total disaster. All they had to do was get to the place, throw their meager belongings inside and drive to the nearest paint store. A fresh coat of paint should make it livable. Their car had other ideas though, as steam began to squirt out the gaps along the hood.

"Quick! Pull over there," Cassandra pointed to a small park. "We can get some water for the radiator."

"Do we have to stop?" Amelia complained. "Can't we just fix it?" The thought of being seen around such a hunk of junk embarrassed her. As it was, she hunched down and tried to hide behind the steering wheel.

"Amelia!"

"Right. Okay, Mother."

The teen pulled into the parking lot and parked as close to the rest rooms as she could. Hopefully, the car would quickly cool down and they could duck into the rest room for some water to fill the radiator.

"I guess we need a new car," Cassandra said with a sigh.

Amelia nearly choked. "You think?!"

"No need to get sassy, Young Lady. We'll get settled in first. Then we can see about a new car."

"You mean new as in brand new?" The girl said, bouncing in her seat.

Cassandra suppressed a laugh and tried to give her daughter a serious look. "I mean new as in working and reliable. I doubt I'll be able to afford a brand new car any time soon. Scientists aren't rich you know."

"But Mom!"

"Honestly, Amelia. Old Bessie here has reached the end of her natural life so we won't get a good trade in value for her."

The teen pouted and hung her head.

"That'll do you no good, Dear. I'm splitting our current savings between a new house and your college fund. The type of car I get will depend on what I can get on my salary."

"Okay," Amelia said.

"We still need a lot of things like new furniture too. It's going to be rough the next couple of weeks."

"Okay! Okay! I get it."

At least the teen didn't have to suffer with their ugly old furniture. It might have been in good shape but they'd practically had to give it away at their yard sale. The only things she'd miss were her large four poster bed and vanity table set. They were beautiful but they had to go. Her mother refused to get a moving van so the only things they could bring had to fit in the station wagon.

As the two of them sat at the park and waited for the radiator to cool down, Amelia suddenly found herself with changing priorities. Forget the paint. She needed a bed! Her mother might be comfortable with one of the two small futons they had rolled up in the back, but she wouldn't settle for anything less than a queen size bed. They couldn't hope to squeeze one into their car so she hoped the furniture stores would still be open and could deliver one by the end of the day.

"Oh! Hurry up, Bessie," Amelia said, and then got a twinkle in her eye. She quickly changed to her power voice and shouted again. "Cool off!"

The steam stopped.

"Amelia, that wasn't necessary. What's the hurry?"

"I'm sorry," the teen said, her eyes tearing up. "But I want to make sure we have time to at least get a bed."

"What's wrong with the futons?"

"Please, Mom. Can't we get a bed?"

"Okay," Cassandra smiled. She still found it hard to say no to her daughter. "Let's get old Bessie filled up and get going."

***

With the house painted and rooms properly furnished, Amelia found she could tolerate her new life. Her bedroom furniture matched her high standards and her closet overflowed. She couldn't ask for much more than that. The only issue of concern left was school.

The weather got noticeably wetter as the new school year approached. She couldn't do much about the weather -- yet -- but she could do something about school. She vowed to make her senior year perfect, and nothing would stop her.

***

Low gray clouds rolled in, threatening rain on the first day of school, much to Amelia's dismay. She was already half way to school when the rain started and she wasn't prepared. She liked to walk but didn't appreciate what the humidity would do to her hair. Thankfully, she had the Gift, and had little reluctance to use it.

The Gift might be better described as a blend of magic and science, and those with the power called themselves Gifters. The Gift couldn't break the laws of physics but it could bend them to amazing degrees, and the more scientific knowledge one had, the easier it was to bend them. That explained Cassandra's profession as a scientist, and why she encouraged her daughter to follow the same path.

The first rule of the Gift: It wasn't possible to violate the law of conservation of matter. Existing objects could be transformed in many ways but they couldn't be disintegrated or created out of thin air. Even so, matter could still be manipulated to create some fantastic gravitational effects, including the warping of space. Highly advanced Gifters could create a wormhole to greatly shorten the time spent traveling from one location to another, effectively teleporting. No one felt constrained by the first rule when they considered the Gift's potential.

The second rule followed the law of conservation of energy, though some advanced Gifters appeared to break it by converting matter into energy according to Einstein's famous mass-energy equation. A huge amount of energy could be created and channeled in an impressive fashion, even going so far as to create the lightning bolts and fireballs right out of a fantasy novel.

The third and most important rule had nothing to do with science. It was a moral code; do no harm. Exceptions were made for self-defense but in general, nothing that went against the wishes of any human being was allowed. Unfortunately, that resulted in a policy of secrecy and suppression. Too many of those without the Gift reacted badly when seeing its apparent magical effects.

What a Gifter could do depended on their field of study. Physicists concentrated on matter and energy, chemists focused on molecules and chemical reactions, and so on. With common sense and some cross-discipline study, one could create many different simple effects, but only specialization allowed for the truly amazing accomplishments.

Cassandra preferred the biological sciences, mostly pertaining to infectious diseases. She hoped to become a great healer and dreamed of someday wiping AIDS from the face of the earth. Working her way up from the common cold and influenza, it became child's play to eliminate most childhood diseases and some of the more severe ones like malaria and tuberculosis. Inherited diseases like cystic fibrosis fell beyond her reach but others could handle those.

Amelia followed her mother's lead, though mainly for selfish reasons. She studied the physiology of the human body and used her knowledge to change herself in desirable ways. At the rate she progressed, she'd soon be able to shapeshift into virtually any person close to her size, male or female. Her skin, hair and eye color could already be changed as well as height and bust size.

She'd already enhanced her features, making the change gradually so her mother wouldn't notice. Once she learned, she couldn't help herself. Her mother might not approve but it helped her self-confidence so she figured it was okay.

This time, the young Gifter created a shield out of air molecules, a simple trick after learning basic chemistry. She made the shield look like a clear, plastic umbrella to keep from upsetting her classmates. She even held her arm up to make it look like she was holding something.

As she approached her new school, Crescent Valley High, or CV as students liked to call it, she felt someone's eyes on her and got a little nervous. Turning back to look, she saw a tall, dark-haired boy with a silly grin. There was no danger he'd discovered her fake umbrella. She followed his eyes to find they were fixed firmly on her rear.

"Like what you see?" she asked, only slightly annoyed since she was used to male attention.

The boy just nodded and followed her in like a puppy, not seeing her pretend to fold up an imaginary umbrella and stuff it in her backpack.

***

As luck would have it, Stu walked behind one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. She must be new because he'd remember if he'd seen her before. He wandered down the hall in the general direction of his first class and was pleasantly surprised to find the girl walk ahead of him into the same classroom. His Government class suddenly seemed a lot more interesting.

He sat slightly behind and to the side of the new girl and waited while Mr. Johnson took roll call. As soon as the girl answered to Amelia, Stu had a name to go with his fantasy. He slumped back in his chair and ignored the droning voice of his teacher for the rest of the class.

The boy had a serious case of infatuation with all the pretty girls at CV. He had enough nerve to ask many of them for dates but so far, he hadn't found the right one for him. In other words, he'd been rejected. His obsession with physical beauty was well-known and not well-liked.

It's too bad Stu couldn't control himself because the girls found him attractive and charming when he wasn't staring at their chests. He had above average grades and played on the varsity baseball team. He had a sharp wit and a mild manner that could make him a fine boyfriend. It was only when he was around a pretty girl that he turned into a cave man.

The bell interrupted his latest fantasy and after walking to his next class in a daze, he once again found Amelia inside. He thought it had to be some sort of sign. Perhaps there really was such a thing as fate. It gave him hope anyway. He couldn't remember the last time he had a date. That's because he'd only had a few his freshman year, long before all the girls discovered his one-track mind.

With some time to spare before the bell, he worked up some courage and approached her. Lucky for him, she sat in her chosen seat so he couldn't get into trouble staring at her posterior again.

"Hi Amelia. My name is Stu. Welcome to CV."

"CV?" she asked, not yet learning the school nickname.

"That's what we call the school. It stands for Crescent Valley of course."

"Right. Nice meeting you, Stu. Thanks."

The bell sounded and Stu quickly returned to his desk, silently congratulating himself for making contact and burning her beautiful, smiling face into his memory.

In spite of his intelligence, he couldn't understand why he couldn't get a date. He came up with all kinds of excuses but noted that making excuses didn't help. He had to figure out his problem and fix it. Maybe if he asked, some nice girl would explain it to him. It couldn't hurt to try.

***

Amelia couldn't help noticing Stu's eyes on her the whole time in her first two classes. It bothered her enough that she planned to have a talk with him later about it. Her perfect senior year was at stake after all. She just hoped she wouldn't have to resort to extreme measures.

After her second class, she didn't see the rude boy again until lunch. He sat with several loud and obnoxious male friends and she refused to go near them for fear of being tainted. If her feelings weren't hurt in some way, her clothes might be, thanks to the frequent flying bits of greasy food. Her talk would have to wait.

At least lunch wasn't a total loss. She met up with two girls from her last class and they offered to give her a short tour. The three of them had a nice long lunch together and the two girls spent the rest of the time showing her around the school. It was a nice gesture even though she didn't remember much of it. She couldn't stop thinking about a certain boy.

With her mind elsewhere, lunch ended and she thanked her two new friends. Then she wandered off to Art class and got lucky, so to speak. She had another opportunity to talk to Stu because she found herself sharing a third class with him. That was the last straw. She had to resolve the problem as soon as possible because she'd be seeing him far too often if she didn't.

The determined girl found a quiet moment during class while they worked on a simple sketching exercise. The teacher suddenly stepped out of the classroom and she hurried over to whisper to Stu.

"I need to speak with you after school. Meet me out front."

She slid back into her seat, leaving him with a goofy grin, but she didn't suffer from any more of his attention. Finally setting up a meeting allowed her to focus on her sketch for the remainder of class.

***

Stu stood waiting for her in the hall near the front doors. She took a full course load when most seniors, himself included, only had to take four or five classes to graduate, so he had a long wait.

As she walked towards him, he managed to tear his eyes away from her large breasts and take a brief moment to really check her out. She wore very nice clothes, much nicer than most of the girls in school. Her blonde hair was worn up and she had a style and grace that screamed high maintenance.

Her appearance and ambitious class schedule suddenly made him rethink his interest in her. He considered reducing her to eye candy status instead of potential dating material. He preferred his girls to be more old fashioned, another reason he couldn't get a date. His attitude only left him farther behind in the relationship game.

"Hi," Amelia chirped. "Thanks for meeting me. I hope you didn't have to wait long."

"No," he lied, ever the charmer. "I didn't wait long." He couldn't help but play the game of love. He figured the practice wouldn't hurt. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I couldn't help notice you staring at me in class," she said and paused. She hadn't given much thought about how to tell him he bothered her. Now she found herself slightly embarrassed.

"And?" he said with a smirk. He had the mistaken impression that girls liked to be leered at. He thought they'd be flattered by it.

"And I want you to stop it," she blurted out, provoked after seeing the look on his face. "It really bothers me so please stop," she added for good measure.

She surprised him, and even angered him a little. No girl had ever spoken to him like that. In spite of asking nicely, he couldn't believe she didn't like to be stared at. He refused to believe it. His stubborn male pride wouldn't let him.

Biting back an ugly retort, he calmed himself and remembered his thought when he first saw her. He wanted to ask a girl for advice, and now Amelia practically dropped into his lap. But could he trust her? Girls seemed so emotional and irrational. Still, he reminded himself, it couldn't hurt to try talking with her a little.

"Don't you like to be appreciated?" he tried, sticking with the current subject.

"Well, yeah. Sure. But you take it too far."

"Ah, I see. What about peeking? Can I get away with an occasional peek?"

"Maybe," she said, a small grin forming.

"And faraway glances? Are they allowed?"

"Definitely," she agreed, finding herself warming up to him.

Meanwhile, Stu fell back into his usual stereotypes. He thought her to be toying with him. She liked to be looked at but only under her own conditions. She had no consideration for his needs. Guys were visual. Everything he read and heard confirmed it, so that was good enough for him. He stubbornly decided to go back to his usual ways.

His first plan had been to ask her out on a date, the sooner the better, before other girls gossiped about him and ruined his chances. It was a good plan, but the more he talked to her, the more he realized she wasn't the one for him, in spite of her beauty.

"Okay," he told her. "Got it. See ya." Then he turned and quickly walked away.

Amelia's jaw fell open. She followed slowly behind him, stopping just outside the school entrance when she noticed the rain. She watched him hurry across the parking lot to his car. He got in and drove away without so much as a backward glance. She felt abandoned. He could've at least offered her a ride home, even though she didn't live that far away. What went wrong?

***

"Boys!" Amelia huffed as she entered the kitchen, startling her mother. The girl had been in her bedroom, fuming until her mother got home from work.

Cassandra smiled when her daughter's words finally registered. It was about time Amelia noticed boys.

"Hi Amelia. Did you have a good first day of school?"

The angry girl frowned back in answer but didn't say any more.

"I'll take that as a no. Want some hot chocolate? That always cheers you up."

"No ... and no."

"No hot chocolate? This must be serious," her mother said, barely suppressing a grin.

"It is! A stupid, smelly boy at school is driving me crazy!"

"Amelia, you sound like a 10-year-old. Come on."

"Well he is ... stupid at least."

The teen poured her heart out to her sympathetic mother, who couldn't help remember her failed romance with Amelia's father. Men without the Gift made relationships difficult, but a woman's heart made its own decisions.

"That's quite a problem," Cassandra said after her daughter finished. "What are you going to do about it?"

Her mother asked a good question, one she hadn't thought through. She'd never had a boyfriend before, never considered having one until she met Stu. He creeped her out a little at first but she thought they had good chemistry when they talked after school.

"I don't know, Mom. I just don't know."

"You'll figure it out, Honey. You're a smart girl."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Now how about a hug?"

They shared a brief hug and then focused on making dinner. Perhaps a full stomach and an evening of reflection would make it easier to find some answers. Only time would tell.

*** to be continued ***

 © 2008 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.