“That was so sweet,” the boy thought. “I could totally relate to Annie. I was always the girl boy.  I wish I had a friend like Noah to take care of me.” 

He’s really getting into these stories now.  He stood up to adjust himself.  Was he getting shorter?  His hair was certainly getting longer.  Does this mix tape really contain magic?

The boy excitedly sat back down cross-legged in the stacks and waited for the next story.

Darkroom - by tfes8

It all seems like a lifetime ago. Or maybe even another life. Was that even my own? It certainly felt real. The seduction was certainly real.

Back then I went by MJ. My actual name was Michael.  Well, Michael Junior. I would correct those who called me Mike. That was my father, Michael Senior. I was Michael Junior. MJ.

It was my senior year of high school. My story starts in the Photography Club. You see, I kinda dicked around all 4 years of high school. Not academically of course. I was a straight A student. But I thought I could get by with just grades. I only had one friend, and didn’t socialize with anyone else. When it came time to apply for scholarships for college I realized I had nothing to put on my scholastic resume except for my grades. It wasn’t enough.

It was my father - the aforementioned Michael Senior, who suggested I join a club. I wasn’t athletically inclined, nor did I possess any talents. Therefore, I didn’t play sports, I didn’t sing, and I didn’t play an instrument. When I looked up the clubs my school had, I only found one that had a fleeting interest. Photography Club.

So I found my parents' old digital camera in storage, and brought that to school with me to join my first Photography Club meeting. It was a nice setup. The classroom was a fully functioning photography lab with photo editing computers and even its own darkroom. Not that anyone in the class needed the darkroom. This lab was built in the 70’s. All around me were other students who had nicer cameras. State of the art SLRs. Here I was with this old blurry digital camera. I said I could just use my smartphone, but apparently that was a faux pas in the photography club.

My shitty camera didn’t stop me from taking pictures. I started off small. Taking pictures of everyday objects. I experimented with lighting and backgrounds. Then I moved to public spaces and nature. 

A few students complimented me on my photos, but at the same time they reminded me: “MJ, you need a better camera.”

One afternoon, my best friend Andrew and I were walking through town on the way home from school, and one antique shop caught my eye. I don’t think I had noticed it before.

“Hey man,” I said to him. “I want to check out that store.”

“That looks like a bunch of junk, MJ,” Andrew said, following me anyway.

We walked into the shop. The door had a bell on it that jingled when I pushed it open. A shopkeeper from the back raised his head as we walked in.

What caught my eye was an antique camera. It was sitting there on a shelf at the window front. It is antique by current standards. I picked it up and examined it.

“How much space does it have?” Andrew asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said, looking for a USB port or something. “Maybe it takes an old SD card?”

It was a black camera with chrome trim. There was a red stamp on the bottom of the camera. Most of it was rubbed away, but I noticed the image of an eye.

“That’s a film camera” I heard the shopkeeper say, interrupting my inspection of the camera.

I groaned in disappointment. “That means I need to find film for it.”

“I sell film, too.” the shopkeeper chimed in. “It’s behind the counter.”

I looked at the camera again. I stared at it. It was drawing me in. I looked down at that symbol. The eye. I could almost make out voices. Someone was telling me to buy it. Like a calling. This camera wanted to be bought. To be used. I also sensed something sinister. Why would a camera be sinister?

“Dude, you OK?” Andrew asked, breaking the connection the camera had with me.

“Do you hear anything?” I asked. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I need to get more sleep at night.

“Nope. You were zoning out there.”

I wanted to buy this. It was tempting me. It was calling to me. “I’m going to buy this.” I said to my friend. 

He shrugged out of disinterest.

I picked up the camera and brought it to the counter where the shopkeeper sat. “I’ll buy this. And.. umm… some film.”

“How many rolls?” he asked. “Film comes in rolls.”

“One roll for now,” I said. How many pictures fit on a roll? I don't know.

I paid for the camera and the roll of film. I turned to the shopkeeper. “How does this work?”

“Kids these days” the shopkeeper groaned. He showed me how to open the camera. Then he demonstrated how to load a roll of film. “The pharmacy down the road may still develop film.”

“Thanks” I said. “I think my school has a darkroom.” I took my camera, the film I bought, and Andrew and I walked out of the shop.

As Andrew and I walked home I took some photos with my new camera. Everything was so vibrant and crystal clear in the viewfinder. See. There’s nothing evil or sinister about this camera. It was just a camera. I was eager to get these developed.

During the next day at school, I showed the camera to the Photograph Club advisor. He was thrilled that he could finally show someone how to use the dark room.

He turned the lights on in the dark room to show me how to do everything before turning off the lights. He had a spare roll of film. He showed me how to take the film out of the roll. To cut it even if I wasn’t finished with it. Developing it in the film tank with the development mixture, the stop bath and the fixer. Then he showed me where to hang the negatives to dry.

Then he showed me how to enlarge and burn the negative onto photo paper. She showed me how to use the enlarger, where to put the photo paper, how to stop and fix the paper. Where the analog timer was.

He let me develop my first few pictures while he watched.

My heart was racing. I was so excited to check out these pictures. I developed the negatives. Once they were dry enough I moved onto the photo paper. I saw some of the scenery start to develop. I felt like something was making me high. Is it the chemicals in the air? Should I mention this to the advisor? I hung up the picture to dry to see the finished photo I took.

They were amazing. Just as vivid as I saw them through the viewfinder. The advisor complimented me on a great job with the picture and using the darkroom.

When I got home, I took the photos out of my folder. I was impressed at the photo quality and my work. I couldn’t stop looking at it. I had to share this. I then took a picture of it with my phone and posted it on social media.

* * *

When I woke up, I had over 20 notifications on my phone. All because of the photo I posted last night. There were so many compliments from people I didn’t know as my photo was re-shared around school. It felt amazing to be recognized for once in my life. My instant popularity gave me a high and I certainly had a spring to my step when I left for school.

When I got to school, at first I had other students from the photography club come up to me and praise my photo. I mean. It was just a photo of the park, but everyone found it just as enticing as I have. Then I started getting complete strangers asking me if I was the one who took the amazing photograph. People started to call me “MJ.” I didn’t think they knew my name.

As the school day went on, all of that faded gradually. My phone had been blowing up from likes all morning. Now nothing. The popularity I gained during the morning seemed to have faded. 

Nobody noticed me anymore. Even those who complimented me earlier completely ignored me 2 classes later. I wanted more popularity. I needed it.

On top of that, I didn’t feel good.  My muscles ached as if I was coming down with a cold. 

“I don’t get it” I told Andrew while sitting in the lunchroom. “Everyone wanted to get to know me this morning. I’m completely invisible again.”

“When have you ever cared about being popular?'' Andrew asked. “I dunno. Everyone loves viral sensations when they are viral. Once something new and flashier comes out, they lose their attention.”

Just then, the school bully, Chris Ebbers came by and grabbed my lunch off of my tray. 

“What the fuck, man” I said.

“Thanks for the food, PJ” he said, mocking me.

“Great.” I said to Andrew.

“Sorry dude.” he said. “I have some extra change I can give you.”

“Nah” I said. “I’m not hungry anyway.” It’s true. I’ve been getting aches and pains in my body since last class. I let out a cough. “I hope I’m not coming down with anything.”

I pulled my camera out of my backpack. Something is telling me I need to take more pictures. I need to post more. I took a look at the architecture of the lunchroom which used to be the old gymnasium. Then I took a picture of my empty cafeteria tray.

I saw Chris leaning up against the wall eating my food, snickering to himself. I aligned the camera with him and looked into the viewfinder. 

In the viewfinder I saw an attractive girl looking back at me.

I was startled and pulled the camera away from my eye. What the? I looked around for that girl, and didn’t see her. I only saw Chris munching away at my fries.

I looked back into the viewfinder and saw the girl again right where Chris was standing. There was no Chris. No food. She was smiling at me. 

“Who do you see over there?” I asked Andrew.

“That asshole Ebbers,” he replied.

Who was this girl? I needed to take her picture. “You don’t see a girl?” I adjusted the zoom and focus. I snapped the picture and instantly felt a rush run through me.

“If you call Chris Ebbers a girl to his face, he’ll surely kick your ass.” Andrew replied. “Are you OK?” 

I lowered the camera and to Chris standing there again. I was embarrassed to admit that I saw an attractive girl where the bully was. “I’m fine.” I told my friend. “I need to get going.”

With that, I packed up my things, returned the food tray and went straight to the photography lab.

* * *

In the dark room, I carefully opened the camera and extracted the last picture I took. I repeated the same process the photography advisor showed me from yesterday.

My heart was racing again. I wanted to see that girl again. I felt the high of the chemicals again. I enlarged the finished negative. I can see the image of the girl starting to expose. 

God she was beautiful. She was wearing a sundress that highlighted nice long legs and perfect breasts. She was looking at me. I could feel her staring at me. Tempting me. I wanted to jump into that picture. Was I hallucinating?

I took the finished picture of the dark room. Who is this girl? I decided to take a digital picture of this photo and post it like I did with the photo of the park.

* * *

When I got to class my phone started going off again. Compliments on photo again. This time several comments mentioned a “Sarah.” Who is Sarah? With each virtual reaction, I felt a rush, like nothing I've ever felt before. 

I sat down at my desk. One of my class neighbors turned to me. “MJ, That’s such a hot picture of Sarah. How’d you get her to agree to it?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. She’s a real person?

“MJ,” another classmate said. “Nice Picture!”

They know my name. I’m popular. I smiled, taking this all in. I felt like I was floating through the halls of the school. I was caught daydreaming in class a few times. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Only people’s reactions to my photographs.

* * *

At the end of my day I was at my locker and I heard a voice behind me. “You’re MJ right?”

I turned around to find my mystery girl standing right there. Looking just as radiant as my picture. Wearing exactly the same outfit. “Y.. Yes” I stuttered.

“Hi. I’m Sarah” she said, extending her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I don’t think so either.” I managed to get out and shook her hand.

“So who told you you could take a picture of me?” she asked. “Are you with the Yearbook?”

“Oh.” I said blushing. “I didn’t mean to take a picture of you. I was trying to take a picture of some guy named Chris Ebbers.”

She looked confused. “I don’t know a “Chris Ebbers.” I’m the only one at this school with that last name.”

Now I was confused. “Your name is Sarah Ebbers?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t have a brother Chris?”

‘Nope.” She said. “I’m an only child.”

I nodded. Should I ask if she’s single?

“So originally I was going to come to you and ask you to take that picture down.” she said.

“Oh.” I said, blushing again. “I’m sorry.”

“But, I’ve gotten some great compliments on it.” she said. “That is an awesome picture you took, MJ. Thank you. I’m going to make that my new profile pic.”

“You’re welcome, Sarah,” I said, uneasy.

Sarah smiled, waved at me and walked away. I watched her leave, admiring her.

I closed my locker and found Andrew at his. “Hey man, I just talked to um... Sarah Ebbers.”

“You did?” he asked. “She’s like the hottest girl in school.”

“She is?” I asked, surprised. I mean, clearly she was. “Why haven’t I ever seen her before?” Or rather why hasn’t Andrew mentioned her before. Andrew always talks about the girls at the school who are out of his league.

“You’ve had your head in the books for 4 years” he chuckled.

That can’t be the reason, can it? “Well, I was trying to take a picture of Chris.” I explained.

“Chris who?” Andrew asked, pulling stuff out of his locker.

“That asshole bully, Chris Ebbers.” I replied.

Andrew looked at me and scrunched his face. “I don’t know that guy. Is he related to Sarah?”

“No relation. The bully.” I said, getting frustrated. “At lunch - the one who took my lunch. You saw it.”

“Umm..” Andrew said. “You were acting weird at lunch earlier too. Are you feeling OK? I remember you throwing your lunch away because you weren’t hungry.”

“But.. that’s… not how I remember it” I said. “Chris Ebbers is the class bully.”

Andrew shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno dude. Listen, I need to catch my ride. If you’re not sick, Wanna hang out tonight?”

“Sure,” I replied.

Andrew shut his locker and walked down the hallway. 

I looked down at my phone. I hadn’t gotten any likes or comments on my photo in an hour. I felt a crushing feeling of disappointment. I took a stop and felt a little dizzy. I braced myself against the lockers. I’m fine.

* * *

When I got home, my hands were shaking. The dizzy spells were getting more frequent. It felt like I was coming down from a sugar high. I paced my room back and forth. Was I sweating? I rubbed my head to feel beads of sweat come off my forehead.

I promised Andrew I'd see him this evening.

I made my way to Andrew’s house. He opened the door and looked at me with a concerned look.

“MJ?” he said. “Oh my god, you look awful.”

“I dont know whats wrong with me.” I said. “I can’t stop shaking.”

“Dude, you should go to the hospital or something” Andrew said. “Maybe you have cancer. I had a cousin who had cancer. Best to figure that shit out early.”

I shook my head. “It all started when I started taking pictures,” I said, holding up my camera.

“Then why'd you bring it here?” he said.

“I wanted to prove I wasn’t crazy.”

“I never said you were crazy. Shit man. Look at you. Why aren’t you more concerned?”

“I took a picture of Chris Ebbers” I said, holding up the camera. “In the viewfinder, I saw Sarah Ebbers. I never knew a ‘Sarah Ebbers’ before this afternoon. When I developed that picture, Suddenly Sarah is there, and Chris isn’t.”

“That’s crazy.” he said.

“See. You called me crazy”

“I called the story crazy, not you. You’re my best friend. Of course I’m going to believe you. I do think something is wrong though. You need to see a doctor.”

I held up the camera to view Andrew through the viewfinder. I gasped. In front of me was another attractive girl. Not like Sarah Ebbers. She was wearing a cheerleading uniform. She was cute. I could totally see myself dating her.

“What?” I heard Andrew’s voice say.

I lowered the camera to face my best friend. “Let’s go to a mirror.”

I followed Andrew into his house and to his bedroom. I looked at Andrew through the viewfinder again. Sure enough. That same girl was there. And she was in a girl’s bedroom that had a similar shape as this one.

I handed the camera over to Andrew who looked at himself through the mirror.

I saw Andrew’s face turn to confusion. He lowered the camera and looked at the mirror. And then the camera. “That’s impossible”

“What did you see?” I ask

“Two girls.” he said.

“Two?” I replied. “It never occurred to me to look at myself through the viewfinder.

“Yeah.” he said. “OK. I believe you. That camera is freaky. You should throw it in the river.”

“I think it might be evil,” I said. I took the camera back and looked at Andrew in the viewfinder again. I could see the girl’s lips moving. She was talking to me. I then heard Andrew talk but his words were not matching with the girls lips.

“Dude, are you listening to me?” he asked.

The girl in the viewfinder smiled at me. She wanted me. She wanted me to press the shutter button.

“Press it MJ” she would say.

I could feel my finger move over to the shutter button.

“What are you doing MJ?” I heard Andrew say in fear. The girl in the view smiled and winked at me.

I can’t do this. Not to my best friend. 

I can’t. I have to. I need to. She wants me to.

My finger pressed the shutter button and a flash filled the room. 

I felt a rush go through me. I exhaled a breath of relief. That felt so good. I needed that. I pulled the camera away from my face to see an irate Andrew.

“Dude, what the fuck?” he said, “You just got done telling me this camera is evil and magically changed a guy into a girl.”

“I.. I couldn’t stop myself.” I said in embarrassment. Was I getting addicted to this? What was wrong with me?

“Just go.” he said. “Throw that damn thing away. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

I left Andrew’s house without saying another word.

* * *

I could feel the shakes coming back on. I could go home and forget about all of this, or I can go back to school. Go back to the dark room. I could develop this picture. I could post it. I could get my fix of likes and compliments.

I was at a crossroads. I wanted to go home. To throw this cursed camera away like Andrew told me to.

I was starting to sweat. I found it difficult to think. The voices came back in my head. I need to develop this picture. So Instead of going home, I found myself walking back to the school.

I tested the school’s doors. The main one was locked. I found a side door near the gym that was still open. I could hear a janitor cleaning the gym. 

I quietly walked down the dim halls to the photography lab. I then made my way to the dark room and started getting to work and developing the negatives.

I eagerly watched as the image appeared on the photo paper. My shakes were going away, instead I was filled with pleasure. The moment I saw the girl in the picture, I felt like I was flying. I wanted more. I needed more.

I moved the photo into the finishing bath and hung it up to dry. I impatiently waited for the photo to dry and fiddled with my phone in my pocket.

The timer I set went off, and I immediately took the finished photo out of the darkroom and into the classroom. 

Andrew makes an attractive girl. I quickly took out my phone and scanned the photo. I posted it. The moment I hit upload I felt that familiar rush.

Almost immediately I started getting reactions from people on my social media. Each like, each heart, each comment filled me up with so much ecstasy. This photo was reaching more people than the one of Sarah had. More people started following me. 

Yes. More. I need more!

The rush was overwhelming. My breathing had increased and I fell to the floor of the classroom as if I had just finished having sex.

I felt great. I no longer had the shakes. My cough went away. I was satisfied. But suddenly I felt a massive load of guilt. 

What had I done to my best friend? I need to go see him. I need to apologize.

I packed up my things, quickly yet quietly made my way out of the vacant school.

I ran down the street to Andrew’s house. It was dark. Should I knock on the door? What time was it?

I looked down at my phone. It was 11 PM at night. I shouldn’t knock on his door at this hour, so I went home.

* * *

I fell into a deep slumber as my phone blew up. I had put it on silent when I got into bed, but I could feel every time I’d receive feedback on my photo.

I had a dream I was making out with Sarah Ebbers. She grabbed me and threw me up against my locker - much like Chris Ebbers would do. Wait, that wasn’t Sarah Ebbers. It was the girl version of Andrew. She rubbed against me and made out with me. It was pure ecstasy.

I woke up in a sweat with a very embarrassing hard on. No, I wanted to stay in that dream.

As I started getting ready for school, my photo of girl-Andrew kept going viral. This photo’s power has lasted longer than the Sarah photo did.

When I left for school I had another spring in my step. Nothing could keep me down.

I waited for Andrew at his locker. Then I saw her turn the corner. The girl in the photo. God she was more attractive in person. More attractive than the photo and more attractive than my dream.

She walked up to me. Looked at me up and down. She cleared her throat. “You’re in front of my locker.”

“Sorry” I said, moving away. “Listen, Andrew, I’m sorry about last night.”

She looked at me confused. “Why did you call me that? God you’re such a creep Michael.”

Michael? Andrew knows I hate that name. “Then what is your name?” I asked.

She scoffed at me. “We’ve been neighbors for 10 years and you’ve been obsessed with me since adolescence. You didn’t forget my name.”

I didn’t know it. Maybe I'll take a guess. “Andrea?” I asked.

“Fuck you.” she said, closing her locker. 

I felt dejected. Andrew had a better sense of humor than that.

Just then a bunch of other girls who I recognized as cheerleaders came running up to her. One girl greeted her, “Hey Ashley, I love that skirt!”

Ashley? “Ashley.” I said to her.

Ashley turned around.

“Are we not best friends?” I asked

“As if,” she said, returning her focus to her new friends.

What have I done?

Suddenly I started coughing. I started getting clammy. As I was coughing, nobody paid attention to me. I felt a crushing amount of guilt. I needed something to take my mind off of it. How about my photos?

My phone was silent. My popularity was waning. I needed more.

That’s when I started taking pictures of random guys in the hallway. Each press of the shutter button made all of my worries about Andrew fade away.

A few guys cursed me out, but I did not care. I took pictures of the captain of the boys soccer team. A teacher. The drum major. The class president. That introvert from the chess club. The guy who does the morning announcements. A guy fighting with his girlfriend. A guy who was running through the halls late to class.

But taking their pictures wasn’t enough. I was starting to cough up blood. I was sweating. I ran to the photography lab during my 3rd class. I didn’t care if I missed it. Nobody was in this photography lab at the moment and I started to work in the dark room.

I spend the remainder of the school day in the darkroom only coming out to use my phone to post pictures and receive the admiration of my friends on social media.

I posted a total of 20 pictures of classmates and that one teacher, and all of them developed into attractive girls and women. All of them went viral around school - and around town. My phone blew up all day with admiring fans.

I realized I was in trouble. I was addicted to this. Whatever evil was involved with the camera had me. There was no escape.

* * *

I woke up having a hard time breathing. The high from the last group of pictures must’ve worn off. Where was I? I was in the dark room. I must’ve fallen asleep here. I left the dark room to notice all of the lights in the school were off. 

I was shaking. I was cold. I was sweating. I collapsed onto the floor.

I was alone in the school with nowhere to go. Nobody to take a picture of. Unless.

The only person around was me. I stumbled into the dim hallway of the school. I crawled to the boys restroom and looked at my pale reflection. I looked like shit. My eyes were sunken in and my complexion looked ill. My limbs looked so thin and frail.

I grabbed my camera and brought it up to my eyes.

I saw her. Was that me? She wasn’t frail. She was a healthy 18 year old girl. My hair color. My mom’s eyes. My dad’s complexion.

She was saying something to me. What was it? I couldn’t hear her. But I could read her lips.

“It’s over MJ.” she mouthed. “Save us. Take our picture. Develop me. Let me out to the world.”

I felt my finger graze the shutter button. But I resisted. I don't want this. I can’t do this. Resist, MJ.

I suddenly coughed and fell to the floor of the bathroom. My chest is heavy. It hurts. I’m going to die like this. On the floor of the bathroom at school.

I grabbed the counter and pulled myself up. My sickly reflection was looking back at me. His skin was burning blue. Even he was asking me to save him.

I had to do this. I needed to do this. I’m going to die if I don't do this. No, I have to resist.

I braced myself against the bathroom counter and slowly raised my camera up to my eyes. “Please no” I cried as I felt my arm move involuntarily. 

In the viewfinder I saw her whisper to me again. “It’s OK, MJ. It’ll be over soon.”

“It’ll be over soon” I echoed.

I pressed the shutter button and felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through me. I was able to breath and let in a large breath.

I’m safe for now. But if I don’t develop this photo I’m done for.

I gingerly walked out of the bathroom. I wasn’t 100% and still had a hard time walking. I quickly made my way to the Photography Lab as fast as these sickly legs would take me.

I was starting to feel dizzy again as I got into the Lab.

I re-entered the dark room and started to develop the negative.

As I waited for it to develop I felt I was hallucinating. Were my hands smaller? Thinner? It must be the fumes in the air playing tricks on me again, I told myself. I know those thoughts were a lie, but I didn’t want to admit the truth.

I finished up the negatives. But I felt shorter. I shook my head. I know what is happening, but I don't want it to happen.

I took the negative to the enlarger, and positioned the photo paper.

As the paper started developing I felt it again. The rush. The thrill. The ecstasy. This time I could feel something else. My sweat drenched shirt started to show the beginnings of budding breasts. A stray hair or two fell into my eyes.  

What’s going to happen to my life? What’s going to happen to me? To M… to M.. my name. What’s my name? It was right on the tip of my tongue. I’m named after my dad. Michael right? Is that my name?

Yeah, I’m a boy named….A... Ab... Abigail. No. That’s not my name. It’s… Abigail. No. My name is Abigail. 

I started to get frightened as memories in my head started to change. This isn’t right. That isn’t who I am. Resist this, Abby. Resist it.

I looked down at my slender limbs. Even in the reddish light of the dark room I could see that they were healthier again. But now they’re more feminine.

I looked down at the developing photo. It’s me. No, that’s not me. That’s the girl in the viewfinder. It’s Abigail. No, I'm Abigail.

That’s not my life. I’m a boy named Abby. My best friend is An...is.. is Ashley. Of course my best friend is a girl. Cause I’m a girl. No. I’m not. I’m a girl. My best friend is Ashley. We’ve grown up together. I remember the sleepovers and we’d braid each other’s hair...

My head hurts.

The timer went off, I put the photo in the stop bath and set the timer. The transformation running through my veins felt amazing. I felt a rush of euphoria I had never before experienced. I smoothed my skirt and sat down on the floor. Wait. No. Pants.

I looked down and saw a skirt. Now that’s not right. That’s not what I put on today.

The timer went off and I took the photo into the light. The light was harsh on my eyes.

I pulled out my cell phone with the lavender case and took a picture of it.

I was cute. I mean she was cute. That’s not me. I mean it is me. But, it is Abigail, but it’s not... 

My resistance was starting to fade. I no longer remembered my old name. I was a boy. But I’m not. Was I ever?

I’m Abigail, but I’m… I’m a girl.

I got the first comment from my post. 

“Abby, that is such a cute selfie!”

Then collapsed on the floor.

* * *

I woke up in my bed. Everything was as I expected. “That was a crazy dream,” I thought to myself.

To think. I was ever a boy. I hate how dreams fade so fast. I don’t even remember my name in the dream.

I got out of bed, took a shower, and put on my cheer uniform. It was spirit day today and the squad was going to be performing our new routine for this afternoon’s pep rally.

When I got to school I was greeted by my best friend, Ashley. 

“Hey Abby,” she said. “I heard one of the boys on the cross country team has a crush on you.”

“Which one?” I asked, blushing. I hope it’s Douglas. He’s totally cute.

“My sources didn’t say,” she replied. “Lucky. I wish this school had a better guy to girl ratio. There’s too many girls here. All of the good guys are taken.”

“Yeah - when Sarah Ebbers can’t get a date, you know the ratio is jacked”, I giggled.

“Sarah Ebbers is a bitch,” Ashely said. “I heard that she bullies the guys she dates.”

I had a fleeting moment of deja vu, but now it’s lost.

“Speaking of guys from the cross country team, I heard Douglas is single.” I added.

“Ohh,” Ashley said. “I thought he was dating the captain of the girls soccer team.”

“They broke up last week,” I said with a smile on my face. I crossed my fingers, hoping he dumped his ex cause he had a crush on me.

I opened my locker and exchanged the books I needed for my morning classes. I need to take out my camera before it gets crushed by books. I reached to the bottom of my backpack.

Nothing.

But where is the…

I thought for a moment. I never had a camera. It was that dream again.

“What’s wrong?” Ashley asked.

“I thought for a moment I had a camera in here.”

“That’s weird,” Ashley said. “A camera camera?”

“Yeah.” I replied. “An old school camera.”

“Why would you have one of those? Is your phone not working?”

“I…” I stuttered. I remember a little bit of my dream. “I had a dream that I joined the photography club to earn a scholarship.” I was a boy in my dream.

“Pff.” Ashley laughed. “Girl, you have like 10 scholarships, what do you need with another?”

“Right,” I said, nodding. Of course. I’m in cheerleading, the honor society, and the yearbook editor. Why would I need to join another club? The dream about this camera was fading. I’m trying to remember why it was important.

“Well, let’s get to homeroom,” Ashley said. “I want to compare my calculus homework with you.”

“Sure,” I said to my best friend. I shut my locker and continued on with my life. Because that is what it is and has always been.

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TF Emily aka tfes8 writes fluffy gender transformation stories.  Her 3 novels can be found on TGStoryTime, FictionMania, and her website tfemily.com