Chapter 7: Serendipity
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Lydia woke up to her alarm and groaned as she felt an unexpected soreness on her back. It turned out that sleeping on your tail hurt a lot. She groggily pawed at her phone furiously, before realizing her nightstand was too far away to reach. She absentmindedly rubbed the sleep from her eyes, finally being able to crack them open enough to shut it off. She felt like she still hadn’t slept enough, even more so than usual.

She looked down at herself and realized her clothes, which she normally slept in, had either fallen off or been tossed off in her sleep, and she realized she’d have to swap into something else. She pondered what to use, knowing that going upstairs naked was not likely to be okay with her mother or father, especially not like this.

She slid off the bed carefully, letting her feet hit the floor before walking over and rummaging through her dresser. She knew that her mother had donated most of her formerly ill-fitting clothing from when she was younger, but she nevertheless hoped that something had been missed in the cavernous depths of her underwear drawer.

After a few minutes of tossing everything out, then back in, she slumped again the dresser and sighed. Just then, she had an idea. She remembered that her mother sometimes wore a nightgown, and, well, some of her larger shirts just might be able to pass as one. She gleefully rummaged for her largest shirt and found, to her delight, that it hung over her small frame perfectly, falling down past her knees.

Realizing it was definitely past when she’d normally expect to be awake, she rushed upstairs, trying not to shiver in the cold morning air. When she got upstairs, she found her mother and father both in the kitchen, and she waved to them, smiling. Neither of them smiled back, her father wearing his stoic grimace and her mother looking almost ready to burst into tears.

She knew they wouldn’t be the most supportive, but their reactions still disappointed her. She hadn’t changed that much, other than how her body looked! She sighed and looked for some food in the cupboard. She saw the cereal but, she wasn’t feeling it this morning. She was craving…something tangy and salty, but maybe a little savory?

She tried looking for the bacon, hoping it would work, but remembered that her mother had used it up a few nights ago to make breakfast for dinner. She muttered as she sulked back to the cupboard for the cereal, and poured herself a small bowl. She found herself unsatisfied but full after a few bites. Her stomach certainly seemed to have less of an appetite than before.

Her father eventually spoke: “Your mother and I have agreed that it’s best, for now, to have you skip school and go shopping for some clothes until we figure out what else to do. You may still be our son, but you have the body of a young lady, and I won’t have you leading anyone into sin with that sort of indecency.”

“What do you mean by indecency?” she asked, as she poured her remaining milk down the drain and rinsed the bowl out.

“He means,” her mother clarified, “that you have the curves of a lady, and they are very visible beneath your shirt.”

Lydia turned beet red and nodded, directing her face towards the ground in shame, then replied, “I didn’t have anything else that fit without falling off so I just went with a big shirt to make one of those nightgowns that you have.”

Her mother made an odd grimace and then said, “For now, I’ll have to probably put you in some of the clothes we saved from when your cousin was younger.”

“Okay,” Lydia replied, trying not to smile for fear that her mother might somehow find a way to punish her for it.

Her mother beckoned her downstairs, into the storage closet. Lydia followed her, noticing an odd glint in her father’s eyes as she passed him at the table. He averted from her gaze as she glanced at him. She smiled at him and skipped the rest of the way downstairs.

As her mother pulled a container of clothing out, she lectured Lydia on how to wear clothing like a lady and how to present herself properly, and Lydia dutifully listened and occasionally made tacitly understanding ‘mhm’ sounds, though she found the lecture a bit pointless. She liked the idea of wearing a dress, but it seemed a bit weird that she had to follow all these rules just so men wouldn’t be creepy? Or maybe it was God that was creepy, she wasn’t sure from her mother’s vague phrasing.

Her mother noticed she was disengaging and sighed, finally pulling a dress out and inspecting it against her body. It was long on her, reaching nearly past her feet. She’d have to be careful not to step on it and ruin it, probably, especially in the rain. It was simple but beautiful, a lighter fuchsia tone, with capped shoulders and billows of fabric at the bottom, which certainly helped with her tail. She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to fit into pants anymore with that.

Her mother also pulled a larger black hoodie out, wrapping it around her and testing fitting it over her ears and chest, before nodding and zipping it up on Lydia, pulling the hood over her ears, flattening them in the process as best she could.

“You look a bit tacky in the hoodie,” her mother replied, “but it’ll have to do for now.”

Lydia’s ears involuntarily twitched and the hood fell off, and her mother groaned. “Did you really have to go for the ears, John?”

“I didn’t ask for them, they just happened,” Lydia replied, letting her annoyance at her mother’s use of her deadname permeate through her voice a little.

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me young lady,” her mother spoke sternly in reply, realizing too late that she’d gendered Lydia properly.

“Okay, sorry mom,” Lydia replied, smirking.

“Just… gah!” her mother exclaimed, “You’re impossible right now.”

Her mother stormed back upstairs, leaving Lydia with the tub of clothes. Lydia rummaged through it further, finding more dresses, gorgeous skirts, and some cute shirts (though they looked like they were made for girls a few years younger than her, which, given how tall her cousin was, made sense). As she pulled them up against her body, examining their fit, she found herself purring again. She leaned into it, giggling and purring at once, and finally, she threw off the hoodie and snuck upstairs to look at herself in the mirror.

Its fit was a bit tight around her chest, so she at least understood why her mother had tried the hoodie, but overall, it looked charming on her, contrasting with her black and brown ears well. She tried curtsying, and bowing, and spinning, and all sorts of things, until she fell over, dizzy and laughing giddily. Just then, she noticed her father standing in the room adjacent, staring at her.

“Um, hi dad,” she said, “how long have you been there?”

“Don’t mind me,” he said, “I’m just glad you’re happy.”

“Really?” she asked, beaming with a full-toothed smile.

“You know,” he said, his expression not changing from the solemn gaze, “I just, I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh or smile like that in years.”

“Well,” Lydia replied, “this dress is really nice! And it’s so fun to wear! I don’t know why they don’t let boys wear them, they have such good airflow!”

“I, uh,” her father said, stuttering a little and rubbing the back of his neck, “well, I’m just glad you’re adjusting well to the changes. I’m not happy you did this, but I’m glad you aren’t hurt.”

Her father then crept upstairs, not turning back to glance at her at all. She pondered his response for a minute, then simply shrugged and skipped back downstairs to her bed, browsing her phone for a few minutes before her mother opened the door cautiously, peering in before speaking.

“Are you ready to go?” her mother asked, “I’ve got some shoes for you, too, so you don’t have to go barefoot.”

Lydia smiled and nodded. Not the day I expected, she thought, but not a bad day either.

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