1.

The next class after the big auditorium session was chemistry. It was another class I shared with Steve, and we’d always been lab partners. Today was no different, except that I was wearing denim shorts that made my butt look bigger than it was (and it was mighty big, now, thanks to turning into a girl; okay, so it looked big to me, shut up, this is new to me) and a shirt that was paper thin and made me feel chilly all day long. Nothingwas different.

It may seem strange that I was explaining my clothes, but there’s a reason. That reason is that today we were on a field trip to the local college chem lab, and we had to wear lab coats. Naturally, anybody dressed like me would look silly in a lab coat, and I wasn’t the only one wearing short shorts.

“Why did we need to come here when we have the exact same stuff in our chem lab?” I asked Steve.

“Couldn’t tell ya on a bet.”

Mr. Simms tapped a ruler against the chalkboard at the front of the room. “Now, you’re all probably wondering why we’re here, especially considering this was only a ten minute trip from our building.” Oh my God, he’s a mind reader! “Certainly, you see some differences between this lab and ours, right?” Well… No. It looked like a very basic school chem lab. This one looked more like the one at middle school than ours did, but still. “This lab is a bit more like the ones you’ll see if you decide to go into a chemistry-related career. As such, I thought we’d take this opportunity to get you acquainted with this type of lab.”

Really? This looks more like an actually chemical lab somewhere? You mean they look different from a high school chem lab? Wow. I’m so very - Nope. Nope. Can’t even think that with a straight face.

“Mister Rich - Ah, excuse me, Miss Richards, do you have something to add?”

I hate you, my brain. “No, Mr. Simms,” I said, completely red-faced. More than one of my fellow classmates laughed at me.

2.

“How was your day?” Dad asked when I walked through the front door.

I set my book bag down on the floor beside the front door, then sat down on the floor, my back against the door. “Well, I’m the only transgender girl in the locker room. There are two teachers who gave me awkward stares, I think Steve likes me, and the sorceress who did this to me is the new principal next year.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You serious?”

“According to the woman at the administration office, Ms. Malski - the sorceress - has been ready to take over since last semester, but Mr. Malski wanted to finish out the school year. Her being the new principal and my being cursed seem to have absolutely nothing to do with one another.” I sighed. “It’s a little too coincidental, I know, but unless she’s changing school records magically, it’s legit.”

“So, how do you feel about this?”

I laughed. “How can I feel about this, Dad? The woman who took my manhood away is gonna be running my school next year, I’m only three days away from getting confused for Melanie more easily, and… I’m not sure how I should feel about who I’m becoming.”

Dad sat down beside me. “Amanda, when your mother told me what you’d said, that you were becoming a young woman because of a sorceress cursing you, I wanted to tell her to stop joking. My boy, turning into a girl? I couldn’t accept it. I didn’t accept it. Even when she handed me the phone, and I started talking to you, I didn’t want to believe that this scared girl was my son. I wanted so very badly to believe it was Melanie trying to play a joke on me, and your mother was in on it.”

“I thought Mom said you wanted all girls.”

He smiled. “I did. Then I got a son, and I felt proud of that boy. And as he grew up, I wanted to see this boy through everything he wanted to do. I didn’t want to push him, I didn’t want to prod him, I wanted him to be his own man, as my father did for me. Nothing that you did disappointed me - Well, that’s not entirely true, that ‘F’ in English class last semester made me want to punch you through a wall.” I smiled. I felt a tear hit my cheek.

“So, am I a disappointment now?”

“Of course not. Do I miss my son? Of course. I raised that boy for fifteen years, I watched him grow, I watched him stumble and fall and pick himself back up. Every time I look at pictures of that boy, I’m going to miss him.”

I hugged my knees to my chest. Great. I’m not a disappointment, but I’m going to be a reminder to him of the son he lost.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “And every time I look at you, I’m going to see another beautiful daughter who’s going do the right things with her life.” Wait, what? I’m what? “Amanda, you’re not Adam. I don’t know what happened to Adam, but if I keep believing that you’re Adam, then I’ll lose you. I need you, sweetheart. You’re not a replacement for Adam, but I’d lose it if I lost both of you.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. I reached forward and hugged him.

I wasn’t a replacement.

3.

Mom had been busy in my room. All of my Adam clothes were gone, replaced by feminine equivalents. No dresses or skirts or anything, but skinny jeans, shorts, tank tops, crop tops, spaghetti strap tops, camisoles, etc, etc…

(I thank Melanie for telling me names for certain types of tops, because as far as I’m concerned “shirt” should apply to everything.)

There were bras and panties in my dresser drawers, new socks, a couple new pairs of shoes (Yay, I don’t have to wear Melanie’s anymore!). There were a couple of nighties, but as I discovered last night, those were very comfortable to sleep in. I picked up one of the bras and looked at the tag on it. 34B. Was that how big I was? Was that big for a fifteen year old girl? Would I get…

No, no, no, no no no no no no no no! I would not ask myself that question! That’s the wrong question to ask and I’m not going to ask it! I don’t care how big my boobs get! I won’t consider that a concern in my life at all!

I plopped down on my bed and hugged the bra to my chest. I was already thinking about it. If I was a B cup, would I be stuck as a B cup? Or would I grow some more?

“What’s up with you?” Melanie asked. I didn’t even realize she was standing in my doorway.

“Don’t ask. Really, really, don’t ask.”

She looked at my dresser and pulled out another one of my new bras. “I wish Mom hadn’t done this.”

“Why?”

“Because! Clothes shopping is fun! And now you don’t get to learn that for yourself until you grow some more.”

I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling. “You mean I’m not done?”

“What do you expect? Even if you didn’t have three more days of transitioning from male to female, you’re still going through puberty. I’m not even done growing!”

I almost wanted to cry. Great. The odds that my breasts would get bigger and make boys look at me more were greatly enhanced. Just because I liked boys didn’t mean I wanted to be stared at all the time.

Now that I thought about it, why did I like boys? Shouldn’t I at least have some attraction to girls still? Just because I could look down my own shirt and see a pair of boobs shouldn’t stop me from looking at another girl’s chest. But, no, I had no attraction to girls, and… I liked staring at guys.

“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout?” Melanie asked.

“I’m trying to figure out why I like boys.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s weird.”

“No, it’s not. Take it from somebody with double x chromosomes her whole life, there is nothing weird about wanting to date a boy.” She sat down at my desk. “Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting to date a girl, either. After all, my friend Britney likes girls.” She wheeled the chair over to me and then rolled onto my bed beside me. “But, why would anything be weird about liking boys? Boys are big and strong and have that one organ that can go anywhere and - “

I smacked her in the face. “Stop that. I really don’t want to hear about ‘organs’, okay?”

She giggled. “I’m joking, obviously. You really think I like boys just because they’re ‘big, strong and have an organ’?”

“So, why do you like boys?”

She shrugged. “I like boys because I like boys. There’s no real reason for it, just like there’s no real reason for liking whatever you like. Why does everybody care about why you fall in love with a specific gender? You like boys, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Does it really matter why? Is knowing why you like boys gonna change why you like boys?”

I rolled over onto my stomach. “I dunno. I guess… I guess I just wanna know when I started to like boys. I mean, I liked girls before, and now I suddenly like boys. It’s like it just happened and I didn’t notice.”

Melanie rolled over onto her stomach now. I swear, we looked like we were having a sleepover. “I guess it’s good to know my little brother liked girls after all. Shanna always thought you were gay.”

“That’s what she said at gym today, too.”

“Were you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I just… I really don’t think I wanted to date anyone.”

“But were you attracted to girls?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I didn’t find girls unattractive, that’s for sure.”

“You never had a girlfriend.”

Why was that the only evidence being thrown up in my face about this? “You’ve only had one boyfriend.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “That you know about.” She put her arm around me. “Little sister, I’ve probably had more boyfriends in the last two years than you had morning wood when you were a boy.”

“Uh, that’s gross.”

“What? Having a lot of boyfriends? No, it’s awesome.”

“No, the analogy.”

“Oh. Sorry, it was just the funniest thing I could think of.”

“It was horrible.”

“Still. I go through lots of boyfriends that nobody knows about.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, I’m exaggerating. I’ve had probably five boyfriends in the past couple years. Two, I like having boyfriends. If I’ve got a boyfriend, the gross guys aren’t hitting on me.” She ruffled my hair a bit. “That’s probably something you’ll find out about pretty soon.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You wouldn’t imagine all the talk I heard about you in the cafeteria today. A lot of it was boys talking about ‘that weird shemale Richards turned himself into’.”

“Shemale? Really?”

“More than a few of them were talking about how hot they thought you were.”

“They thought I was hot?”

“I’m pretty sure I heard ‘hot shemale’ more than once.”

“They thought I was a shemale?”

She flicked me on the nose. “Well, ya kinda are, for now. Little Adam is little, but he’s not gone just yet.”

I sighed. “Yeah.” I brushed some hair away from my eyes. Was it longer already? Wait a minute, did it change? “Hey, is my hair longer?”

Melanie sat up then sat me up and took a very close examination of my face. “Yeah, yeah it is. And your face is a little different.”

“How different?”

“Just a little softer. Your lips are a little fuller, too. That lipstick didn’t look out of place before, but it looks perfect on you now.”

I was actually relieved that I looked more feminine. Maybe it was just because I was over the hump, into the last few days. Little Adam only had until Friday before he was gone.

Though, honestly, it already felt like he was.

4.

“Girls! Time for dinner!” Mom called up to us, but I was already downstairs, practically right behind her. The upstairs bathroom toilet didn’t work, so I’d been downstairs having a diarrhea attack. I didn’t feel bad or anything, which made me wonder if it was just another part of this stupid curse. Mom turned around and saw me. “Good God, Amy, how long were you standing there?”

“A couple minutes. I was in the bathroom.”

“Go make sure your sister heard me, okay?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

I walked upstairs and was about to knock on Melanie’s door when I heard her talking. She must have been on Skype, or something. “I love Amy, but it’s getting a little tiring, y’know? She’s worried about everything, when she should just be enjoying her life.” Huh, I didn’t think I was worrying too much. After yesterday, I actually thought I was doing good. “Well, I should get going. Dinner should be soon, so I’ll talk to you later.”

I knocked on the door now. “Mel! Dinner!”

“Just a second!”

“It’s lasagna, so hurry up!”

I wondered who she was talking to about me. Did she really think I should just throw Adam away and enjoy being Amanda? Wasn’t I already kinda doing that? Or did she think I should start being uber-girly, because that I wasn’t doing. I could be a normal girl, not some perpetually pink wearing girly girl.

Hrm… I think I’d ask her about that after dinner.