“Hey! Watch it, kid!”

“Ah! Sorry!” I replied reflexively, turning around to apologize properly. Or I would have, but the only thing around me was the low-cut, flowering hedge that divided one of many of my college’s concrete walkways.

“Did I just apologize to a bush?” I thought out loud. 

That small, angry voice floated around me again. “Yeah, because plants can talk. Of course not! Look up, dingus.”

I did as I was told, making eye contact with a small… butterfly… girl?

“Hiya, miss clumsy human!” she greeted, twirling and somersaulting in the air. “Thanks ever so much for knocking me off that abelia flower.”

Okay, the voice was attached to the bush at some point. I felt less stupid now, but also very freaked out by the fact I was talking to what seemed to be a fairy. “Uh, I’m really sorry for disturbing you?” I offered. If I was lucky, the mythical being that apparently exists in real life now would be nice and friendly and not curse me or prank me or whatnot. Hopefully.

“Oh, shoot, I’m dumb. This counts as letting a human see me, doesn’t it? Guess it’s time to get to work then.” The fairy pulled a book nearly as big as she was out of thin air. “Let’s see who you are…”

By all logical reasoning, I should have probably booked it right there. But I was also a little too deep into fantasy, and way too curious for my own good.

“Here we are!” the fairy exclaimed. “Hazel Walker. Auburn hair, brown eyes, wearing a light blue hoodie and black jeans, an outfit that I suspect is your favorite, oh, and you have an alternate identity!” she glanced up from her page, taking my stunned reaction as confirmation her magic book or whatever was correct. “You are quite the character, Miss Walker. Now as for your other identity…” The fairy flipped to another page, frowned, and then scribbled something out on the page that evidently revealed everything you’d ever want to know about me.

“So, you’re transgender, huh? Out to your friends and family, I presume?”

I winced, shuffling back defensively. “Yeah, so what if I am? Why do you need to know all this stuff anyways?”

“Woah there, girlfriend. I didn’t mean to upset you! Mad respect, honestly.”

That caught me off-guard, and I relaxed a little. “Um, thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” she beamed. “This job’s gonna be fun! Queer people always benefit the most from these games!”

“A game?” I pressed cautiously.

“Yeah, a game!” The fairy flew up close to my face. “Listen, how’d you like a full, instant magical transition?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I mean, that’d be great, sure. What’s the catch or the price or whatever?”

“Nothing! Well, if you win at least. Here’s how it goes: I’m going to give you a realllllly hard question, and if you get it right in two days, bam! Insta-body of your dreams. If you get it wrong, I take your memories of us having ever interacted, and your fey sight.”

“My uh, what?”

“Basically, you’ll never see anything out of your books and fairy tales again. It used to be much more valuable to people back when the fey roamed freely, but it’s pretty worthless now.”

“Okay. And no other drawbacks or tricks whatsoever?”

“What do you take me for, a genie? Hazel, I swear on my life that’s everything you need to know for this game. You’re welcome to turn me down of course, but that will count as your loss. So, do we have a game or not?”

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice…” I muttered. “Alright, I’m in. What’s the question?”

As soon as I finished my sentence, a loud, omnipresent voice filled my thoughts, doing its absolute best to freak me the heck out.

A deal has been made between the observer Hazel Walker and the exposed fey Sylanna.

“Great!” Sylanna said with a devilish grin. “Here’s your question: How does one speak ‘like a girl?’”