“Hey, June, can I ask you something?” I say. “Or, I dunno, like, I want to tell you something, but there’s a question involved too? I need to talk to you about something but I don’t know where to start without asking you a question and it feels weird just asking out of nowhere.”

June puts a finger on my lips before I can babble any more.

“Uh-oh,” she says. “Sounds like you’re getting stuck inside your head. How about I promise it won’t be weird and you just start wherever you happen to be?”

We’re in Sam’s basement bar. I woke up this morning on the couch covered with a blanket and a cat. Apparently, Anya had gone home after the movie and Kai hadn’t. After Dave and Kai left for work, I realized I’d missed a text from June with Sam’s number, so I called Sam. She said to come over whenever I was ready and we’d talk about the job.

Since Sam is still waiting on contractors to wrap up some things, mostly in the kitchen, before the bar will be ready to open, the job at this point entails finishing some painting, organizing, and otherwise making the place look presentable. Sam is happy to work around my teaching hours, which, because most of my students are middle and high schoolers, are in the late afternoon and early evening, although she warned me that it might get a little harder once the bar is in business.

I open the next box of glassware to sort into storage. “So I guess Anya and I had a date yesterday,” I say.

“I know,” says June with a smile. “Anya was practically walking on air when she got home last night.”

“And I really like her.”

“I can assure you that the feeling is mutual. Also, not that you need my approval, but I ship it.”

“Wait, what?”

“You’re cute together, and I think you could be very good for each other.”

“So…you’re okay with it?”

“Yes? I said you don’t need my app—oh!” June stifles a smile. “Oh, Lark. Anya is my best friend, my ride or die, I would kill for her, and I would absolutely kill her if we were dating. We kissed once in high school and vowed to never do that or speak of it to each other again.”

I release tension that I didn’t even realize I was holding in my shoulders. June hugs me.

“I…you’re obviously very close,” I say. “I didn’t really know how to read your relationship or if maybe things worked differently with Nephilim.”

“You mean you weren’t sure if succubi were all polyamorous nymphomaniacs and you just hadn’t been invited to the orgy yet?” June says playfully.

“Well, I didn’t want to put it like like!”

“Weirdly enough, Nephilim have all kinds of different sexual and relationship preferences. It’s almost like we’re just people! Anyway, I’m grey ace, Anya’s probably in the hornier half of the big part of the bell curve, and we’re roommates who are just roommates. Not,” she grins slyly and then wiggles her eyebrows, “gals being pals.”

I bury my face in my hands. “Anya told you about that, huh?”

“She thought it was hilarious.”

We keep working and after a while the alarm on my phone goes off to let me know I need to leave for lessons soon. I haven’t really been looking forward to this part. I grab my backpack and the paper bag of clothes that June had brought at my request and head for the bathroom.

After reading other trans people’s tips and tricks for mitigating dysphoria, I have a strategy that I hope will make things manageable for the times and places where I’m not ready to be out and can’t give away my instant magical transition.

I start by shifting back to my old body, but then I make some changes. One suggestion I saw was to wear gender-affirming underwear, but I can do one better. I can’t think of any reason I have to deal with my original equipment, so while I do have to go down a size in underwear since my ass is no longer quite as magnificent, when I pull up my panties the front is mercifully bulge-free.

I take a few minutes to adjust my proportions. I’m betting on the fact that I’ve always worn pretty loose clothes to give me some leeway. I give myself a little more butt, a hint of breasts, and soften my face just a touch. To my unpracticed eye, I think I’ve succeeded in my goal of looking like I’ve been on hormones for a couple months.

For the final piece, which should provide a distraction from some of the other changes, I shift my hair into a neat and androgynous style and turn it purple.

I pull on some fitted women’s jeans, a tight tank, and a loose flannel with the top couple buttons left open. I take a deep breath and nervously leave the bathroom.

“What do you think?” I ask June. I grimace at my voice.

I’d already told her what I was planning when I texted her to ask for more clothes. She looks me up and down critically. “I don’t know what you used to look like, but I think you’ve got the look you’re trying for. You still look like you, just butcher.”

“I mean, this is less butch than I’ve usually done?”

“I meant you look butcher than the real you, Lark.”

“Oh.” I hug her impulsively. “Thanks,” I say into her shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” she says gently. “See you when you’re done!”

I stash my clothes, grab my bass, and walk a few blocks to the music store.

“Hey, man,” says Chris when I walk in the door. “Nice hair! Very rockstar.”

“Thanks,” I say with mixed feelings.

I head for my little isolated room and get set up and tuned. The next few hours go quickly. I enjoy teaching and I think I’m pretty good at it. I do my best to keep my students engaged, and that only works if I’m engaged, so there’s not a lot of time to let my mind wander.

I teach several lessons and chat with a few parents and get a few positive comments about my hair, but otherwise everything seems weirdly normal.

When I’m done, I pack up my axe and head back to Sam’s. Anya was doing nerd stuff today and said she’d meet June and me there when she was done. She also promised to bring gyros, so my heart is beating a little faster at the thought of seeing her and my mouth is watering at the thought of food.

I’m kind of hoping that I’ll get there first so I can change before Anya sees me like this, but I can smell seasoned meat as soon as I open the door to the basement bar.

“Hey, cutie!” Anya says when I step inside. She’s sitting at the bar with June. I walk over hesitantly, but Anya stands up and pulls me in for a very serious kiss. She releases me after a moment and pulls back.

“Is something wrong?” she asks. “You’re tense.”

“I…it doesn’t bother you that I’m like this?” I mumble, not meeting her eyes.

June cocks her head and raises an eyebrow at Anya. I think it means, “I told you so.”

“Babe,” says Anya, putting a finger under my chin and lifting it up, “we’re shapeshifters; this is nothing. I think the other look is more you, but you’re still, y’know, you. Anyway, speaking as a lesbian:”—she takes a step back and looks me up and down slowly—“would.”

Not gonna lie, the finger under the chin really short-circuits my higher brain functions. As a result, it takes a moment for Anya’s words to percolate through, but when they do, I feel the heat rising in my face. I try to work my mouth but nothing comes out.

June punches Anya in the arm. “Geez, An! You broke her!”

She puts some clothes in my hands and gently shoves me toward the bathroom. “Go get changed and we’ll get the food set out.”

When I come out of the bathroom, I’m feeling more comfortable in my body and I’ve had a chance for my brain to reboot.

The food is delicious and we talk about the day.

“I can’t give any details because of confidentiality,” says Anya, “but today I had a client who wants to be able to use a computer for research and reference in their magic room, excuse me, ‘sanctum’, but whatever they’re doing in there is not playing nice with electronics. Of course, they didn’t want to tell me the details of their magic, so I’m kind of shooting in the dark. Hard to properly shield stuff when you don’t know what you’re shielding against. I hate to admit it, but I might need to pick Rob’s brain or even bring him along in a day or two.”

“That sounds more interesting than my day,” I say. “I was pretty nervous going back to work, but it was a non-event. Just a normal day. Probably the highlight was the student who was having trouble with this one lick. I made him slow down and woodshed it for ten minutes and then he had it. So of course he was all surprised Pikachu like, ‘You mean the way that you always tell me to practice actually works?!’ Yeah, kid. That’s why I tell you.”

“Truly a revolutionary pedagogical technique,” June says drily.

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks. I could replace myself with a recording that tells them to practice it slowly in small sections and to turn up the volume instead of playing harder and I’d get ninety percent of the results.”

June stays to lock up when we’re done eating and Anya drives me home. We make out in the car for a little bit but I’m distracted.

“Earth to Lark,” Anya says.

“I’m sorry,” I respond. “Things seem more real today and it’s a lot.”

Anya squeezes my thigh encouragingly and makes listening noises.

“The weekend was magical, both literally and figuratively. I think going back to work was kind of like, ‘Oh yeah, all of this somehow has to fit into my real life.’ And then I talked to June about us a little today.”

“She did mention that, although she wasn’t forthcoming with details.”

“It was a good conversation. Anyway, I do want you to fit into my life, but relationships are scary.”

“I think maybe you haven’t had a relationship where you weren’t trying to be someone you’re not. You don’t have to do that this time.”

“You sound like June.”

“Yeah, she’s smarter about this stuff than I am, but maybe a little of that has rubbed off. I’d like to fit into your life and I’d rather take the time for you to be comfortable knowing what that means than fuck it up. This can happen on your timetable. Just let me know what you’d like.”

“I…I’d like you to ask me to be your girlfriend,” I say quietly.

Anya smiles broadly, then takes my face in her hands and kisses me gently. “Hey, Lark? Wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” I breathe.