Gloria

“Hey, Trav!” I called out, waving at my boyfriend.

“Hi yourself,” he said, stepping forward to meet me and leaning down to give me a peck on the lips. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, of course,” I answered, as he grabbed my hand and held it tight as we walked. “Though I woke up in the middle of the night.”

Travis frowned as we entered the college building and started walking towards our classroom. “Why’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing really troublesome,” I said. “I’d left the window open, you know how hot it is this time of the year, and my apartment doesn’t have AC…”

“You could always sleep over at my place,” he interjected, and I smiled in response.

“Slow down, lover boy, we haven’t been dating for quite long enough for that,” I said.

Travis blinked. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly.

I smirked. “Sure you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” he insisted. “I just wanted to offer you a comfortable place to sleep, that’s all.”

I looked carefully at him: he looked to be completely earnest. Huh.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that, then,” I replied. “But yeah, like I said, I had the window open, and somehow the moonlight angled down just right in a way that it hit my face. Last night was a full moon, even, so it woke me up pretty quickly. So I just got up, drew the curtains closed, and fell asleep again.” I shrugged. “Nothing much, like I said.”

“That’s good,” Travis said. “We have, what, three hours of History of Language in a row this morning? Four? And you know how Professor Wolfram gets if she catches someone sleeping in class.”

I smirked. “Don’t I know it,” I replied, as Travis pushed the classroom’s door open and stepped aside to let me in – ever the gentleman. “It only happened once, but I can’t forget the extra work she had me do.”

Travis nodded. “Best to avoid that.” He glanced around the classroom. “And, speaking of which…” he added, pointing.

I followed the direction his finger was indicating, and frowned. I walked around all the way to the back of the class, and sat down.

“Hey, Ellen,” I said, placing a hand on my friend’s back and rubbing it gently: she was all but lying down on the desk, arms crossed under her head, eyes closed; her hair was a mess, and she clearly hadn’t bothered doing her make-up that morning. “Everything alright?”

Ellen cracked an eye open and looked at me. “Hi, Gloria,” she answered, and yawned deeply. “Yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just that I basically haven’t slept a wink these past two nights. Just spent them running around. And it’s not like I can sleep during the day, either, since I have classes.” She groaned. “I hate Wednesdays.”

I frowned, and looked at Travis, who had an expression on his face matching my own. “Why exactly have you been running around at night? Everything okay?”

Ellen took a deep breath, and exhaled it sharply. “Nah, not really. There’s an outbreak of Moonlight Syndrome going around, and me, my mom, and my aunt have been on call basically twenty-four seven to help with that. It’s been horrible.”

“Moonlight Syndrome? What’s that?” Travis asked.

“Oh, you know,” Ellen replied, waving a hand in the air, but not lifting her head up from the table. “That thing where people change into other forms when it’s a full moon. Like, werewolves and stuff.”

I blinked at her. “…Werewolves? Ellen, stop joking.”

She sighed deeply. “Nope, not joking. Werewolves. And werebears, weretigers… Lots of were-somethings going around.” She lifted herself up from her desk, cracked her shoulders, and pulled up the sleeve of her shirt: there was a deep red scratch, about five inches long, on her forearm. “See this? Got it two days ago, from a seven-foot ferret girl. She was, understandably, quite a bit upset and panicky about the fact that she had unexpectedly turned into something so far from her usual body. It took us a while to calm her down, and she got aggressive for a moment before she realised we were there to help.”

Travis tilted his head to the side, and looked at the wound critically. “Shouldn’t you get that checked out? By a doctor, I mean.”

“Already got it checked out by my aunt,” Ellen replied. “It’s not infected. Or, rather, it was infected, after all we’re talking about the Moonlight Syndrome, that’s very contagious, but she removed it way before it took root. Now I just have to wait until it heals up.”

Meanwhile, I was just staring at her. “No, I’m sorry, go back a sec. A seven-foot ferret girl?” Ellen nodded. “But… Okay, I’ll just take your word for it,” I continued, shaking my head. “But I have several questions. First of all, why are there seven-foot ferret girls just running around? And why are you, specifically, involved in all this stuff?”

Ellen looked at me for a moment. “You mean you don’t know who I am?” she asked, looking from me to Travis and back again; we both shook our heads in response. “Huh. Okay. I actually thought you would know, for whatever reason. After all, we’ve been friends for what, two years now?”

“Yeah, about that,” Travis nodded.

Ellen nodded back, leaned over, and slid a hand into her bag, pulling out her cellphone. “I don’t really advertise it, but it’s not like it’s a big secret. And this is the easiest way to explain it, I guess,” she said; she tapped the screen a few times, and handed the device to me.

On the screen was a news article, from… Magic Monthly? One of those witch magazines, I guessed, I never took an interest in it, really. The time-stamp was from a year and a half before. “Ellen Wenceslas, apprentice to Juniper Wenceslas, passes her exam and is granted her full magical license,” I read the title aloud.

I looked up at her. Then back down at the screen, and then back up at her. She smiled tiredly, and gave me a victory sign.

“So you’re a witch?” Travis asked. “You can do actual magic?”

Ellen nodded. “Yup, that’s me. Pleasure.”

“Huh,” he said, nodding along. “Okay. I’d never met a witch before, so that’s cool.”

“But…” I began.

Ellen turned back to me. “Yes?”

I stared at her for a moment, then shook my head. “Okay, sorry, but I still don’t get it. Why do you have to run around fighting werewolves?”

“Not really fighting,” Ellen explained, “but those affected by Moonlight Syndrome can be only subdued by magic, they’re quite resistant to everything else. So a witch has to be present every time someone with the Syndrome is spotted, in case things turn violent, even though in most cases they don’t. And also to properly explain what’s happening to the victim. And you said you’d never met a witch before, right?” she asked Travis, and he nodded in return. “Yeah, that’s because we’re, like, one in a hundred thousand people or so, and we end up working ourselves to the bone because of it.” She sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “Though the government can help with the logistics and stuff, and they do provide some non-magical staff to back us up. Epidemiologists have been proving themselves to be really useful in this case, they’ve been tracking cases, reconstructing patient histories… We’ve caught many people who didn’t know they had Moonlight Syndrome just from that, and who could’ve passed it on.”

“What do you mean?” Travis asked. “I thought someone would notice if they suddenly turned into a furry monstrosity.”

“Most of them are kinda cute, actually. But no, that’s not how Moonlight Syndrome works,” Ellen said. “When the Moon’s power is at its peak, people affected by the Syndrome don’t turn into anthropomorphic animals; instead, they turn into what, consciously or not, they consider to be their ideal body. And, simply put, lots of people are fucking boring. Pardon my French.”

I lifted a querying eyebrow. “‘Fucking boring?’ How so?”

“I mean that, for some people, their ‘ideal body’ is the body they already have, or something very close anyway. So about one in ten of those affected by the Syndrome don’t even notice they’ve changed, they don’t realise they have it, and since it can be transmitted through sex, they end up unwittingly infecting someone else.” She sighed. “So that’s why we have to trace contacts and stuff. But that’s not my job, my job is to talk to those with the Syndrome, explain what happened, calm them down, and subdue them if needs be. Basically a full-time job.” She yawned deeply.

“Can we do anything to help?” Travis asked.

Ellen smiled at him. “Kind of you to offer, Travis, but we’ve already got everything covered. Unless either of you is a witch and didn’t tell me?”

“Well, I’m not a witch, and Trav can’t be a witch, since only women can be witches,” I replied.

Ellen smiled to herself, as if she was thinking back to some private joke. “Yeah, that’s right.” She yawned deeply again.

“In any case,” Travis said, “you should probably skip today’s lessons if you’re feeling that tired, or you’ll get an earful from Professor Wolfram. You know how strict she is.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Ellen said, waving her hand dismissively. “I have a feeling she’ll give me a pass for today. After all, she knows what I’ve been up to last night.”

Travis frowned. “Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trav,” I said, pointing towards the front of the classroom; he turned to look, and his eyes went wide as we all watched our teacher walk to the small, raised dais from which the professors usually gave their lessons.

“Good morning, everyone,” Professor Wolfram said. “Let’s see now… last time, if I’m not mistaken, we’d examined how the fracturing of the Italian Peninsula into several small states during the Middle Ages gave birth to many different dialects and languages, and how those interacted in the following years. Okay.” She looked up from her notes to the class. “Now, did anyone have any doubts about that? Anything I need to clarify?”

Her question was met with dead silence from the class: we all just stared at her.

“What?” she asked irritably, her tail swishing nervously through the hair behind her. “Have you never seen a fox girl in your life? Seriously. Come on, people, let’s begin, we got a lot of ground to cover today.”

As we all sat down the only noise I could hear, besides the shuffling of chairs, was Ellen snickering.

 

Ellen

“I still can’t believe you did that,” I grumbled as I left the classroom with Gloria and Travis.

“Neither can I,” Gloria added. “Seriously, Trav.”

“Oh, come on,” Travis replied. “Don’t tell me you weren’t curious about what it would feel like, too.”

Gloria slapped his shoulder. “You could’ve asked her another way, you dumbass. ‘Excuse me, ma’am, can I touch your tail?’ Seriously.”

“I thought she would rip your throat out then and there,” I said. “And you’d have deserved it, too. You were lucky she kept her cool.”

“She didn’t, actually,” Travis said. “Have you seen her glare? I didn’t even know anyone could glare like that.”

“Well, as a teacher, I bet she had lots of practice,” Gloria answered. “But the yellow eyes, framed by the orange fur, really added to the effect.”

“You’re going to be lucky if she just never mentions it again,” I said. “Personally, I would never let you live it down.” I smirked. “Just imagine: what if you asked her to write a letter of recommendation for grad school, and she wrote, ‘Mr. Haynes is an excellent student, and any school would be glad to have him, as long as you don’t let him touch any teacher’s tail,’ and then sent it on to the commission which awards scholarships…”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Travis said. “That was the wrong thing to say.”

Gloria nodded. “Glad you understand. But still, it’s amazing to think Professor Wolfram, the Professor Wolfram, the world-class linguist, the super-stern and extremely demanding teacher… had always wanted to be a cute fox girl. I can hardly believe it.”

“Bet you a dollar she hadn’t realised it herself, either,” I said. “For most people, what their ‘ideal body’ actually looks like is often a surprise.”

I thought back to how afraid Professor Wolfram had been two days before, when I’d walked up to her, sitting dejectedly on a bench in the local park, and explained what had happened: to turn into someone – or something – else entirely, completely unexpectedly, must be a supremely scary experience. She’d been at dinner with her husband and in-laws, when suddenly she felt a bit dizzy, her bones went crack, fur started sprouting all over her, and she panicked and ran; even though the transformation is entirely painless, it can be startling (to say the least) the first time.

Thankfully, once she realised there was an explanation, she calmly and logically assessed the situation, and then asked me if I could go with her to break the news to her relatives, and also if I knew where to buy clothes which would fit her new form. She had yet to decide whether she wanted to get the Syndrome removed from her body or not, but I reassured her that it was entirely up to her, no pressure. (But she would have to use protection for any sexual activity if she decided to keep transforming every month, to avoid passing the Syndrome on to someone else.)

She had taken a day off work to ‘adjust to the new situation’ – her words – but decided to go back the following day, since apparently being turned into a fox girl wasn’t ‘that big of a deal’ – again, her words.

And then Travis decided to ask her if he could feel how soft her tail was. God. I thought I was going to die of vicarious embarrassment right where I stood.

I reached over and punched my friend in the shoulder. “Ow,” he complained.

“You deserve it,” I told him. “Seriously. What you did was like…” I tried to think of an apt comparison, and found one. “It was as if you asked a trans person if you could touch their chest, to ‘see what it feels like.’ You dumbass.”

“Alright, I get it,” he said. “There’s no need to twist the knife.”

“Nope, we’re going to twist it for a while longer, I think,” Gloria said, and Travis groaned.

“Oh, speaking of which, something that came to mind,” he asked. “How would the Moonlight Syndrome affect trans people? Would they get their ideal body, too?”

I looked at him suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “No real reason, really,” he said. “It’s just that, when you said ‘ideal body,’ trans people came to mind.”

Fair. “Yeah,” I nodded. “And I know what you’re thinking: yes, that means they would apparently switch genders.”

Gloria turned to me. “Apparently?”

“Because trans people are always their gender, even if they don’t look like it,” Travis replied, and I smiled: even though he didn’t know I was trans – I hadn’t told neither him nor Gloria – Travis was a good egg regarding things like these.

“Huh,” Gloria mused. “Why don’t they get infected on purpose, then?”

“Some do. But Moonlight Syndrome is relatively unknown, and transition is preferable anyway,” I answered. “Most trans people probably want to look like themselves the whole time, instead of just three days per month, during the full moon.”

Travis nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Well, we’re going this way,” he added, pointing along a street. “Back to my apartment to study.”

I smirked. “Oh, to study, is it?”

“Yeah, study,” Travis replied, matter-of-factly, without even the hint of a blush. “Need to get ahead on school work after all, especially after what I did today.”

I looked at him for a moment. “Huh. Okay. Well, have fun, you two,” I said.

My friends waved goodbye to me, and off they went. I stretched and yawned, then looked at my watch: it was still early, and I wasn’t supposed to be on call until ten in the evening, so I would probably be able to go home and catch some shut-eye.

 

Travis

“Hi,” I said, as I approached the bench Gloria was sitting on; she looked up from the book she was reading and smiled at me

“Hi, Trav,” she said, dog-earing the page and slipping the book into her purse. “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out. “I’m done. Finally. Honestly, Professor Wolfram didn’t need to give me so much coursework, I wonder what I did to make her so mad. Besides that, I mean, but that was a week ago, why give me all this work now?”

In truth, I wasn’t exactly done, I still had some stuff to do and some other things to double-check, but I sorely needed a break, and I wasn’t about to blow off a date just so I could keep working.

My girlfriend laughed. “Yeah, about that…” She stood up from the bench, leaned in, and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone else, but I’ve heard her say she’s narrowed the choice for who will be her research assistant next year to just a few people. I think this is a test.”

My eyes widened. “You mean…?”

“Yeah, I think she’s giving you lots of work to see how you manage it, and how you do under pressure,” Gloria nodded.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, pumping my fist in triumph.

Professor Wolfram was extremely well-known and respected, and every year she picked someone from the previous year’s graduating class to be her assistant: it was a great opportunity, being picked by her had launched the career of many a linguist, and I was in apparently in the running for the spot, which was already great in itself.

“This is wonderful,” I said. “We have to celebrate somehow.”

“Way ahead of you,” she replied. “I’ve heard of a nice pub just off campus, and I made a reservation for dinner tonight. Shall we?”

I offered her my hand, and she took it. “But of course. Let’s go.”

Gloria had picked our date spot well: the pub was very nice, and as we sat down at a table in the corner by the window, I’d already decided I’d just forget all the work I still had to do for the evening, and just enjoy myself.

“I’ll take an IPA and… What are scotch eggs?” I asked the waitress, looking at the menu.

“Oh, they’re soft-boiled eggs, wrapped in meat, breaded and deep fried,” she replied. “One portion is two eggs.”

I nodded. “Great, I’ll take that,” I said. “What about you, Gloria?”

“I’ll have a glass of white wine, and the club sandwich,” she answered.

“Alright, I’ll be right back with your order,” the waitress said, and she walked off.

“This is a really nice place,” I said, looking around: I really liked the décor.

Gloria nodded. “Yeah, it really is. Doesn’t look like it’s very popular, though.” And she was right: besides us and the staff, there were only a few other people in the pub – another couple seated at the opposite end of the room from us, and three men who were playing darts.

I shrugged. “Well, you can never tell. It’s still early in the evening, maybe it will get busier later on.”

“I don’t mind,” my girlfriend said, leaning against my shoulder. “This way, we can enjoy a nice, quiet evening, just the two of us.”

I smiled. “You got that right.” I turned my head and gave her a peck on the lips.

“And maybe later, if you’re not too tired from studying, we can–” she started saying, but she was cut off by the loud noise of the door slamming open.

“There you are!” a man yelled, running into the pub and pointing at one of the three other men who were playing darts. “You motherfucker!”

The man turned to look at him, wide-eyed. “Huh? What? Manny? What did I do?”

Manny snarled. “You know exactly what you did, you bastard, you fucking slept with my wife!” He put a hand into his jacket, and drew out a switchblade, which he clicked open. “It’s all your fault!”

The other man took a step back, and raised his hands in a conciliating gesture. “Whoa now. Let’s not be hasty here, bro.”

“I’m not your bro, you fucker!” Manny growled, and took a step forward.

“Alright, okay,” I said, rising to my feet. “There’s no need for all this.”

“Trav, what are you doing?” Gloria hissed, pulling on my arm. “Sit back down!”

I ignored her, and took a step forward, towards the two men. “Come on now, I think we can just talk this out, can’t we?”

“No we can’t! This is between us!” Manny shouted, and pointed at the other man with the blade of the knife. “This bastard ruined my wife!”

I smiled, and took another step forward. “Ruined? I’m sorry, but I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Even if he did sleep with your wife…”

“I didn’t sleep with his wife.”

“See?” I exclaimed. Another step forward, and I was standing almost between the two men, just a bit off to the side, facing Manny. “Nothing really–”

“She slept with me. And it was great,” the man concluded.

Dead silence rang out in the pub, as Manny’s eyes widened, and I turned around to look at the man, bewildered.

“Dude!” I exclaimed. “Why would you say–”

I was cut off by Manny roaring in rage and springing forward; I instinctively took a step back, but he barrelled past me, and plunged the knife into his rival’s shoulder.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed and, without thinking, pushed Manny away from the other man; the knife came loose and, as he stepped back and flailed to keep his balance, caught me in the hand, nicking my skin and drawing blood. “Ow, fuck!” I swore.

Manny’s eyes went wide. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t mean to what?” I rebutted. “You came in here with a knife, what did you think would happen?”

He just stared at me for a few moments. “I’m sorry, I…” he stammered; then he dropped the knife, turned around, and ran out of the pub.

I blinked. “Huh,” I said, and turned around. “Didn’t expect him to just–”

The other man was gone. I looked around, and saw that the pub’s emergency exit was wide open, and the man could be seen framed by the door, running away.

There was a moment of silence in the room, then Gloria ran towards me. “Trav!” she exclaimed, grabbing my hand. “Are you hurt? Let me look at this.”

I smiled at her. “Don’t worry, it’s just a flesh wound. Bet it won’t even need stitches.”

She examined my hand critically for a few moments, then nodded. “You’re still a complete idiot,” she said, and rapped me over the head with her knuckles. “What got into you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I just reacted.”

“Usually people react to a situation like that by running the hell away,” she chided me. “You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

Gloria shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“The cops will be here in a few minutes, you’re probably going to have to give a statement,” the pub’s owner said, approaching us. “Oh, and dinner’s on the house. You did well tonight, kid.”

I nodded. “Thank you.” Then I turned back to Gloria. “Well, shall we resume our date?”

“Only if you promise to get that,” she pointed to the wound on my hand, “checked out as soon as we’re done. I’ll drive you to the ER, even.”

“Okay, deal,” I said with a smile.

 

Gloria

“Okay, I’m done,” Travis said, closing his laptop.

I looked up from my book. “Are you sure?” I asked. “You’ve double-checked everything?”

My boyfriend nodded. “Triple-checked, even. Professor Wolfram will be happy with it, I’m sure.”

“Great,” I said. “And it only took you two and a half weeks.” I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Seriously, you’re amazing, Travis. It would’ve taken me at least a month to do that much work.”

Travis smirked confidently. “It would’ve gone quicker if I hadn’t had to type with my hand bandaged up for the first week, though, that seriously slowed me down.” He lifted his hand: he still had a plaster on, where the knife had nicked him, to protect the wound.

“Oh, yeah, that’s still healing, isn’t it? I actually looked it up on the Internet, it will take maybe a month and a half or thereabouts,” I mused.

“Ah well, it’s no big deal,” Travis said with a shrug. “It doesn’t bother me any more.”

“Great. So, what do you say…” I lowered my voice and leaned in, to avoid all other people in the café we were studying in overhearing me, “…we go home and… celebrate you finishing your work?”

Travis looked at me. “And what would that celebration entail?”

I grinned. “Take a guess. Your little boy will be busy tonight.”

Travis didn’t say anything; he just looked at me, frowning slightly. What the hell? I frowned in turn. “Trav? What’s wrong?” I asked. “Come on, I’m trying to make you happy here.”

“But…” Travis began; he looked back at me for a moment, still frowning, then nodded. “Okay. Then we’ll stop by a store and get some condoms, I don’t have any.”

“No need for condoms,” I replied.

Travis’ eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“I’m on the pill, so no problem on that side. And I know for a fact I’m clean.” While I had never mentioned it to Travis, I’d gotten myself tested for everything a year earlier, after my shithead of an ex had told me the girl he was cheating on me with had given him gonorrhoea. “So unless you have something to tell me…?”

Travis seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then smiled at me. “I’m clean, too.”

I stared at him. That hesitation… “Are you sure?” I asked.

“I’m sure. It’s…” He gulped, and continued, “It’s literally impossible for me to have an STD. I’ve never had sex before.”

I blinked. “You’re a virgin? Really?”

“Really. This is kinda embarrassing, but I never had a girlfriend before you asked me out a month ago.”

“…Well, that’s flattering,” I said. “But I’m glad you said yes.”

“I’m glad I did, too,” he replied; he kissed me lightly on the lips.

I smiled. “Come on, lover boy, gather your things and let’s go. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

 

Ellen

“Hi, Ellen,” I heard Gloria’s voice say; I looked up at her and smiled weakly, then yawned.

“Hi,” I replied. “How are you doing?”

“Same old,” she said. “And I won’t ask how you are doing, because I can see it myself. Running around at night again?”

I nodded. “It’s a full moon again, after all. It’s better than last month, though, but there’s still work to be done.”

“Yeah, I saw what I think was a snake boy on my way over here. And a six-foot, muscle-bound guy I’d never seen before, I’m pretty sure he’s one of them too?”

“Yeah, Frankie. Found him last night. He’s a sweetheart. But he does competitive weightlifting, hence…” I waved my hand vaguely in the air, then sniffed deeply. “Do I smell coffee?”

“Yeah,” Gloria said. “This is for you.” She set a tall paper cup, which was steaming, down on my desk. “Double mocha, with three extra espresso shots, and vanilla syrup.”

“Oh, you’re a lifesaver, Gloria,” I said, grabbing hold of the cup. I straightened myself up on my desk, and took a deep gulp of the hot drink. “Ah, heaven. Girl, you’re too good to me.”

Gloria smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Just then, I realised something, and looked around in mild confusion. “Where’s Travis?” I asked. “You two are usually together.”

“Yeah, but he came down with a bad cold this morning,” Gloria replied. “He texted me he was staying home to recover.”

“Oh, did he? That’s too bad.”

My friend nodded. “I even offered to go over to his place, bring him some warm chicken soup or something, but he told me not to. He’s quarantining himself, he doesn’t want to infect anyone.” She smiled. “He’s very thoughtful, isn’t he?”

“…Yeah,” I said, looking at Gloria, but not really seeing her, as my mind was wandering.

In all the time I’d known Travis, he’d never taken a sick day from school. He was a really diligent student; once he’d even come to class with a high fever, all bundled in a coat and doped up on Tylenol. So him not wanting to pass on whatever disease he had to someone else didn’t sound quite right to me. And the timing…

“Ellen? Is something wrong?” Gloria asked. “You seem distracted.”

I shook myself, and shook my head. “No, it’s nothing, really. I was just thinking about something. It’s fine.” I smiled reassuringly at her.

Yeah, it was probably nothing, wasn’t it? After all, Travis would have definitely noticed it if he’d been bitten or scratched by someone with the Syndrome. And he couldn’t have gotten it through sex: Gloria definitely didn’t have Moonlight Syndrome, since she was standing in front of me, looking the same as ever, and Travis wasn’t the type to cheat on her.

So there was probably nothing to be worried about.

“Alright. I better get back to my seat,” Gloria said, pointing at Professor Wolfram, who’d entered the classroom and was walking to the front. “Talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Talk to you later.”

As Gloria walked to her seat, and Professor Wolfram pulled out her class notes, I decided I still wanted to check, so I grabbed my cellphone, and shot Travis a text: Hey, I heard you were sick. Everything alright? Want me to come over?

The response was almost instant: Travis must’ve had his phone out and in his hands. No. No, don’t come over. I’m fine.

Are you sure? I typed.

Yeah, I’m sure, Travis replied. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Just don’t come over.

I frowned down at my phone.

Alright. But if you need my help, with ANYTHING, you just need to ask.

Travis was a bit slower in responding that time. Travis was probably thinking about what to say, because ‘Travis is typing…’ showed up and stayed on my screen for at least a minute.

Thank you, he finally replied. I’m fine. But thank you.

Okay, I wrote. Take care of yourself, Trav.

I will.

I put my phone on silent and turned off the screen, then slipped it into my bag.

I still couldn’t help but feel a bit of creeping doubt in the back of my mind.

 

Travis

“Hello, sweetie,” Gloria said, greeting me at the classroom door. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” I replied. “I’ve fully recovered.”

“Mmhmm, glad to hear it,” she said; she leaned in for a kiss, but I turned my head away. “Travis? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I… Nothing,” I answered. “It’s just that I’m probably still contagious, I don’t want you to get my cold”

Gloria looked at me for a few seconds, then nodded. “Alright, then I’ll give you a rain check on the kisses. And on something else, too,” she added, smiling impishly.

I felt a shiver run down my spine, but I still managed to say, “Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”

Gloria nodded. “Well, shall we?” she asked, pointing at the open door.

“You go ahead,” I said. “I woke up late today, so I need to go pee before class starts. Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Without waiting for my girlfriend’s reply, I turned on my heel and strode away, towards the toilets. The last few metres I almost ran, barging into the bathroom and then into a stall. I locked the door, sat down on the closed toilet, and tried to normalise my breath – I was all but hyperventilating.

It took me several minutes, but I managed to get my emotions under control, and finally started breathing normally. I waited a few minutes more, to be sure I was okay, and then stood up and walked out of the stalls.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

“It’s fine,” I hissed at my reflection through clenched teeth. “This is fine. You’re fine. Get yourself together, Travis.”

I washed my face with ice-cold water from the faucet, for good measure. Then I took a deep breath, and left the bathroom, heading back to class.

“Hi, Travis,” a voice said.

I turned around, and saw Ellen, leaning on the wall next to the bathroom’s door.

Putting all the cheerfulness I could into my voice, I replied, “Oh, hi Ellen! Didn’t see you there. Are you waiting for someone?”

Ellen nodded, and approached me, stopping a couple paces away. “Yeah, I was waiting for you, actually.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “You were waiting for me?”

“Yes, I was,” Ellen said, nodding again. “How are you, Travis? Everything fine? Have you recovered from your… cold?”

I hesitated. “Uh… Yeah,” I replied. “I’m completely healed. Completely fine.”

“Good.” Ellen paused, then continued, “Is there something you want to tell me? Anything at all. It’s fine, I’ll keep it private.”

I hesitated again. Should I tell her? After all…

No.

No, she would never understand.

“No, nothing at all. Honest.”

Ellen looked at me for a few seconds more, then nodded yet again. “Okay. But I’m always available should you wish to talk. Remember that.” She walked forward, past me, down the corridor. “We better get back to class,” she said.

I gulped, trying to swallow all my anxiety, and wordlessly followed her.

 

Gloria

I closed the door to my apartment, and sighed: the last month had been terrible.

Not that anything in particular had happened. Or, rather nothing had happened. I hadn’t gotten intimate with Travis, no matter how much I wanted to or how much I insisted – which wasn’t much, granted, since whenever I brought the subject up he quickly became uncomfortable, so I just as quickly dropped it.

And it kinda felt like Travis had been avoiding me, too. It seemed that he always had something to do whenever I asked him to hang out. Well, not always, but about half the time. He justified it by saying Professor Wolfram had been giving him lots of work to do, a final test to become her assistant, apparently; but honestly, I doubted that, since there was no way he had to do that much work. And besides, couldn’t he find some time for me, his girlfriend?

I sighed again as I washed my face, taking off my make-up, and made my way to the kitchen to make dinner.

And to cap it all off, he’d told me he would have to go away for a few days, to go back home to his parents’ place: apparently there was something he needed to take care of. He didn’t even want me to see him off at the bus station.

Just as well, though. Maybe a few days apart would do us good. I would have time to think about what I wanted out of a relationship with Travis, and I’d asked him to do the same via text. Maybe when he came back we could sit down, and have an honest conversation.

And maybe–

What was that?

I was suddenly feeling dizzy. My head was spinning: at first I grabbed onto the kitchen table to steady myself, but soon found I had to sit down in a chair to avoid falling over. What the hell…?

Crack.

My head snapped upwards as the noise startled me. Where had that sound come from? What–

Crack. Crack.

It sounded like it was… coming from me?

I strained my ears, but couldn’t hear anything else. Slowly my dizziness passed, and I unsteadily stood up… and almost lost my balance; I grabbed onto the table again to steady myself. But it wasn’t because I was dizzy, not any more, it was almost as if my sense of balance was… off, somehow.

I straightened myself up, and looked around the room.

The perspective was weird.

It was as if I was looking at my kitchen from a point higher up off the ground than usual.

Almost as if I were… taller, somehow.

I looked down at myself: my clothes were stretched taut on my body. While they weren’t uncomfortable, they looked like they were one size too small.

Still a bit disoriented, I walked to the bedroom, and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. Yes, I was definitely taller. And a bit slimmer around my belly. And my curves were more pronounced.

I leaned in and looked at my face. My freckles were less visible than they used to be, and the beauty mark under my eye, the beauty mark I’d always hated and always hid with concealer, was completely gone.

I still looked like me, but a bit different. Somehow.

But this was impossible. People don’t just change all of a sudden, like–

I blinked. Oh.

I ran back to the kitchen, pulled my cellphone out of my purse, and pushed the assistant button.

“What is the phase of the moon today?” I asked. (Shit, even my voice was different: clearer, and more high-pitched than it used to be.)

It took a few moments for the phone to come back with the answer. “The moon is currently waxing gibbous. It will be full tomorrow.”

So it was one day before the full moon.

Which was apparently enough to activate the Moonlight Syndrome.

Which made sense. After all, the previous month, I’d seen those afflicted by the Syndrome run around for a few days, not just on the day of the full moon. And Ellen had said something about how she’d been running around several nights in a row, hadn’t she?

So that was the only likely explanation.

But where had I caught the Syndrome? After all, I hadn’t been bitten by anyone. And…

Hold on.

Ellen had also said something about Moonlight Syndrome being passed on through sex.

Which meant…

Without hesitating even for a moment, I pulled up Travis’ contact info on my phone, and called him: it rang for a minute or so, then the call went to voice mail.

Almost immediately, I got a message from him. Sorry, can’t talk right now, what is it?

Why didn’t you tell me you have Moonlight Syndrome? I wrote back.

The confirmation check mark appeared immediately, so Travis definitely saw the message, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t even try typing anything.

I’ve figured it out. Last month, when you took three days off. And this month, too. You didn’t go back home, did you? I wrote. Where are you? At your flat?

Again, the check mark appeared, and again Travis didn’t reply.

Trav. Talk to me. Please. Say something.

It took a few moments, then an answer came through: I’m sorry.

I frowned down at my phone. I stared at those words for a minute or so, then came to a decision.

I grabbed my purse, slipped my phone and keys into it, and rushed out of the house.

It was about a fifteen minutes’ drive to Travis’ place, and on the way, I couldn’t help but think. I couldn’t help but wonder. What had he turned into? What was Travis’ ideal body? And why hadn’t he told me? Never mind that, why hadn’t he told Ellen? Ellen was apparently an expert in these things, and could heal Moonlight Syndrome, or knew someone who could. Why hadn’t Travis confided in either of us?

My feelings still in a turmoil, I parked my car in the street in front of Travis’ place. By then the sun had set, and the moon was rising, and I scowled at it.

I all but ran across the small patch of grass in front of the block, and up the stairs and down the corridor, and started frantically banging on the door. “Travis!” I called. “Travis, come on. I know you’re there. Open the door, please!”

I tried the door’s handle, but as I’d figured, it was locked.

“Travis!” I called again, banging on the door. “Come on, sweetie. We can fix this. Open the door, please.”

“Go away!” came a voice through the door, and I paused: that hadn’t sounded like Travis. Too high pitched, for one.

But still, I couldn’t stop. I knocked on the door again. “Trav! Trav! Open up, I beg you!”

“Go away!” the voice shouted again. “I don’t want you to see me like this!”

“Whatever it is, whatever you look like, it doesn’t matter,” I replied. “I love you. I will always love you. We can fix this. Open the door. Come on.”

There was a moment of silence as I stopped knocking; then, from inside, I heard a sob and a sniffle.

“You’re going to hate me.”

“I’m not. I could never hate you, Travis. Never, you hear me? I love you.”

Another moment of silence, then I heard the deadbolt being slid back, and the door being unlocked.

The door opened.

 

Ellen

“Yeah. Yeah, I understand. Let me see if I can free myself up.”

I muted my cellphone’s mic, and walked over to my mom: she was sitting on a chair in the mobile HQ, nursing a mug of coffee which I knew she’d spiked with one of her potions, to make it extra-strength.

“Mom?”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Yes, Ellen?”

“Can you manage it here on your own? Something’s come up. It’s an emergency.”

“An emergency?” she asked, frowning.

I nodded. “Two of my friends came down with Moonlight Syndrome, and they’re kinda panicking right now. I was thinking of having them come over to Aunt Juni’s place, so I can talk to them in private and calm them down.”

Mom looked at me for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, do that. I can manage it here, last month was quite slow, so I don’t foresee any significant problems for tonight.”

“Alright,” I said; I leaned forward, and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

She nodded again, then turned back to her coffee as I walked away. I tapped my phone’s screen to unmute the microphone. “Okay, I’m here. Can you come over to my aunt’s magical store? So we can check you both out, and fix this.” I rattled out the address.

“Alright, we’ll be there in thirty,” Gloria replied, and hung up.

I got in the car, connected my phone to the loudspeaker, and made another call as I drove off. The phone rang for a long time, almost two minutes, before someone picked up.

“Yeah?” a really sleepy voice drawled out.

“Hi, Aunt Juni, it’s Ellen.”

“Ellen? What time is it?”

I grimaced. “It’s nine PM over here, which means it’s two AM over there. Sorry.”

“Why are you calling me this late? I’m on vacation,” my aunt complained.

“Yeah, sorry, like I said. It’s just–”

“Juni? Who is it?” I heard another voice say.

“It’s just Ellen. Go back to sleep, Liesl,” Juni replied.

A loud, stifled yawn. “She really takes after you.”

“Sleep, dear.” A pause. “Now, I hope this is important, Ellen. Like I said, I’m on vacation. Not to mention the time.”

“Sorry. But it’s really important. You see…”

My aunt was quiet for a minute or so, as I explained the situation, and told her I needed her help: I might have been a fully-fledged witch, but Aunt Juniper was still much more experienced than I was, and since this was about my friends, I really didn’t want to screw things up.

“…Okay,” she said, finally. “Align the portal as soon as you get home, I’ll be right over.”

Aunt Juni and I were sitting at a table in the main area of her store, drinking extra-strength coffee (courtesy of my mother) when the doorbell rang. I immediately got up and opened the door, and hugged Gloria: she’d clearly been affected by Moonlight Syndrome, she looked different – not very different, but enough to be noticeable.

“Hi, you,” I said. “Come in, come in.”

I ushered her in, and she walked into the shop, dragging someone by the hand behind her, and I inhaled sharply.

The girl was about my height, and her eyes were red: she looked terribly sad, and had clearly been crying. Her long hair was a mess, and she was wearing men’s clothes which were much too big for her delicate frame.

Well. I guess that explained why my friend had been so reluctant to talk to me.

“Hi, Trav,” I said, putting all the warmth I could in my voice. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

She looked at me, and gave me the slightest of nods; I stepped forward and embraced her.

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” I soothed her.

“Please sit down, girls,” Aunt Juni said, motioning to two chairs we’d set up in the middle of the shop; Gloria glanced at her, but complied, as did Travis.

“Okay,” I said. “Now sit still.”

Aunt Juni stood behind Gloria’s chair, and put her hands on Gloria’s shoulders; I did the same with Travis. We spoke several words in the Magical Tongue, and I pushed some of my magical energy through my friend’s body, examining it carefully. Then my aunt and I swapped places, and repeated the process.

“You felt it too, right?” I asked my aunt. “In both of them.”

Aunt Juni nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

I nodded back, then turned to face my friends. “Alright. You both have Moonlight Syndrome.” I smiled. “It was obvious, really, but we needed to confirm it.”

Travis took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, while Gloria just looked at me. “But you can fix this? Tell me you can fix this.” She gestured at herself, and then at Travis. “There’s a cure, right?”

I gulped. “Yes, there is, but it’s really not pleasant.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“When you first get infected with Moonlight Syndrome, it takes about two weeks for the magical pathogen to make its way through your body,” I explained. “Within that time frame, removing it is trivial. Remember when I got clawed by that ferret girl? I think I showed you the wound.” Travis and Gloria both nodded, and I continued, “I got infected then, but Aunt Juni was there, so she cured me right away. No lasting consequences. And a good thing, too, because magical diseases make it difficult to handle magic, which for a witch… But I digress.” I waved my hand.

“After two weeks, though, the pathogen melds with your magical core, with your base energy,” Aunt Juni said. “At that point, removing it is much more difficult. And very painful.”

“Painful?” Travis asked in a trembling voice, the first words I’d heard her say all night, and my aunt nodded in response.

“Yes, painful. It is, by all intents and purposes, basically ripping out a piece of your soul. It’s excruciating, and it’s a pain which cannot be dulled in any way. I’ve heard it compared to having a root canal done without anaesthesia. And the process lasts several hours, too.” Aunt Juni paused. “But yes, it can be done. We can do it right now, if you want to.”

There was a prolonged silence in the room, as Travis and Gloria considered what we’d just told them. I could see doubt in their eyes, as they turned many possible scenarios over and over in their minds.

“You know what? No, I’m fine,” Gloria finally said. “I’m actually okay with this.” She gestured down at herself.

“Would be weird if you weren’t,” I replied. “Ideal body, remember?”

“Right,” she nodded. “It’s a bit inconvenient, though. I will have to buy new clothes, and explain to people why I look different… three days a month, was it?” I nodded, and she continued, “So it would be really best to remove it. But if I have to go through pain to go back to normal? No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” I nodded again.

“But you should fix Travis,” Gloria continued.

Travis’ head snapped around to look at Gloria. “Wait, what?” she said.

“Yeah, I mean,” Gloria said, turning to look at her. “You’re my boyfriend. You can’t look like this.”

I looked at Gloria, my eyes narrowing; glancing off to the side, I could see Aunt Juni was doing the same. Travis, on her part, was just staring at Gloria in clear disbelief.

Gloria turned back to me and my aunt. “So you see,” she said. “Please fix him.”

Aunt Juni looked at her very carefully for a long time, then turned her gaze on Travis. “Travis?” she asked. “Do you want me to heal your Moonlight Syndrome?”

“I…” Travis began to say, but then stopped.

A dead silence fell on the room.

After a few moments, Gloria spoke up. “Trav? Travis? Sweetie? What’s up? Tell her you want to get fixed.”

“I…” Travis said again. She gulped. “No, I don’t want to get healed. I don’t want to get fixed.”

“What do you mean?” Gloria asked, her eyes widening.

“I mean… I mean that I’m okay with this,” Travis said. “I don’t want to change back.”

If at all possible, Gloria’s eyes became even wider. “You don’t want to…?” she said, and Travis nodded in response. “But you can’t!” she exclaimed. “You can’t look like this!”

“Why?” Travis asked.

“…Because!” Gloria said. “Because you’re my boyfriend! You’re a boy! Boys don’t look like girls!”

“Well then, maybe I’m not a boy.”

Travis spoke those words carefully, through gritted teeth, as if she was forcing them out; Gloria stared at her in disbelief. “What…?” she said.

“Ideal body,” I muttered under my breath.

Gloria turned to look at me.

“It means Travis wants to look like this,” Aunt Juni added.

After a few moments, in which she stared at us, mouth hanging open, Gloria shouted, “Well, I don’t want him to look like that! Fix him! Fix him right now!”

“I won’t,” Aunt Juni said calmly. “Not unless she asks me to.”

“Which I won’t,” Travis said. “You’re being more than a bit unfair, Gloria.”

Gloria turned to look back at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… You’re okay with this,” Travis replied, motioning at her, “so you don’t want to go through pain to get it fixed. I’m okay with this,” she gestured at herself, “and yet I should go through pain because you want me to?” She crossed her arms in front of herself. “This is what I always wanted, and I’m not giving it up. Not for you, not for anyone.”

Once again, Gloria’s mouth fell open; she remained like that for a few moments, then closed it. “Oh, it just figures. My boyfriend’s a… A…”

“Choose your next words very carefully, Gloria,” I hissed.

She glanced at me, but waved a hand dismissively. “This doesn’t concern you, Ellen.”

“It does concern me, because I’m trans, too, and I will not have you insult or demean a sister of mine,” I said, and both she and Travis turned to look at me, eyes wide. “Travis made her intentions extremely clear, and if you don’t stop insisting she change her mind, swear to God, I will put a hex on you so powerful your descendants will feel it to the seventh generation.”

Gloria and Travis stared at me for a few moments, then Gloria abruptly stood up from her chair, knocking it over and throwing her hands up.

“You know what? Fine. Fine. I’m done. See ya.”

She turned around, and strode out of the store, leaving the door open; after a few moments, we heard her car start and speed off.

Travis sobbed.

“Hey now,” I said, crouching next to her, and passing a hand over her shoulder. “Come on. There’s no need to cry. People like her, it’s better to lose them.”

Travis smiled weakly at me, sniffled, and dried her eyes with her shirt sleeve. “Yeah. Yeah. I mean, it’s just…” She took a deep breath, and gulped. “Gloria was my first relationship. I’d never dated anyone before her.”

I gently caressed her hair. “You’ll find someone else, I’m sure. You’re a really lovely and caring person, anyone would be glad to have you as a girlfriend.”

Travis brightened when I said the last word, and nodded. “About… About this,” she said, motioning down at herself with her free arm. “Is there any way to make this permanent?”

“No, there isn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Metamorphosis magic like that is extremely dangerous, it’s very easy to get it wrong. So it’s better not to attempt it.”

“A–Alright,” Travis said, and sighed. “This means I will be stuck with my old body most of the time, though, doesn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. You can always transition, like I did.”

She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Do you really think I could do that?”

“Yes, you definitely can,” I nodded. “And we,” I pointed to Aunt Juni and to myself, “can help you with that; let’s just say we have some experience in the field.”

My aunt smirked. “Yeah, we do. Seriously, Ellen, do I need to check you for curses? You seem to attract closeted trans girls like a magnet.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it tends to happen a lot, doesn’t it? But yeah,” I said, turning back to Travis, “we’ll help you out. It won’t be quick, but eventually, I’m sure you’ll look like yourself, inside and out.”

She leaned into my chest, and hugged me tight. “Thank you.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?”

 

Tracy

“…and I really must introduce you to Logan,” Ellen said. “Seriously, she’s the best. And her girlfriend Charlie is super cool, too. Oh, and Ashley. She’s super smart.”

We were sitting in the school’s cafeteria, three days later. As predicted, once the full moon was over, my body had changed back to my old self, but I didn’t mind: Ellen had promised she would help me with transition, and I knew she wasn’t lying. We were making plans right at that moment, actually.

“We can go shopping. There’s lots of stores I really like, I’m sure we’ll be able to find your style, and…” Ellen paused, looking over my shoulder, and her eyes hardened. “What the fuck do you want?”

I turned around in my seat: Gloria was standing there, looking nervous and anxious. “Um… hi,” she said.

I looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Hi.”

She just stood there for a few moments, looking at us, until Ellen asked, “Is there anything we can help you with, Gloria?”

“Uh… Yes, actually,” she replied. “I wanted to talk to Travis, actually.”

“Tracy,” I said.

She blinked. “What?”

“Tracy,” I repeated. “That’s my name now. Fits better than the old one.” I waved a hand towards an empty chair beside the table. “Take a seat, Gloria.”

As she complied, Ellen glanced at me. “Should I go?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, stay.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“So?” I asked, turning to Gloria. “What did you want to talk about?”

She looked at me for a few moments, then averted her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really sorry. I have to apologise. I know I had a bad reaction…”

“You can say that again,” Ellen interjected, scoffing.

“Ellen, please,” I said; she glanced at me, then sighed, and nodded.

I turned back to Gloria. “Go on.”

“Okay,” she said, and gulped. “I had a bad reaction, and you absolutely didn’t deserve that. It’s completely my fault. I was too caught up in… in my shit. About how you were supposed to be my boyfriend, and everything. And I didn’t even think about how you might have felt.” She looked directly at me. “I’m sorry, Tracy.”

I held her gaze for a few moments, then nodded. “Apology accepted.”

Gloria sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“Was that all?” Ellen asked.

I looked at her. “Ellen.”

“Okay, fine,” she replied.

“No, that isn’t all,” Gloria said. “I…” she began; then she paused, and gulped. “I still care about you, Tracy. A lot.”

I looked at her carefully. “You do realise there’s no way we can be together, right? Not after how you behaved last time.”

She winced. “Yeah, I realise that. And… And I wouldn’t want to. I’m not a lesbian.” She paused again. “But I still care about you. And I would like us to be friends, at least. And I’d like to help you with…” She gestured vaguely. “If you’ll let me, of course.”

I looked at her for a moment, then smiled. “I’d like that,” I replied, and offered her my hand. “Friends?”

“Friends,” she said, shaking it.

I turned to look at Ellen: she held my stare for a moment, then extended her hand towards Gloria. “Friends,” Ellen said, when Gloria shook it. “On probation.” She smirked.

Gloria laughed. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that, don’t I?”

Ellen nodded. “Yeah, you do. But if you behave, we’ll go back to being full friends in no time.”

 

Gloria

“Would you look at the ass on that dude?!” Tracy exclaimed, leaning in towards me and pointing. “Seriously, I think he works out, and he does not skip leg day, not at all.”

I sighed. “How many do I have to tell you, Tracy? It’s rude to point.”

She straightened up in her chair. “Well, I mean. How else am I supposed to tell you when a cute butt comes walking along?”

“Oh, God,” I sighed again. “Did you really have to turn out to be such a disaster bisexual?”

“Well, you know,” Tracy smirked. “At first I thought I was a lesbian, but the more I went through my transition, the more I kept finding that some men are just…” She did a pretty good approximation of a chef’s kiss.

I looked at her for a moment, then shook her head. “I just hope you’re not going to embarrass us tonight. Again.”

She grinned. “What, embarrass us? Moi? I would never. Oh, and by the way, we’re all set up to go clubbing tonight, right?”

“We are,” I nodded. “Everyone has already confirmed it.”

Tracy nodded back. “Good. I can’t wait to finally show off.”

I looked at her: I had to say, just six months of magical hormone therapy had done wonders on her, she already looked great. Not that I was interested in girls, it was just a dispassionate observation.

And something interesting had happened, too: as Tracy progressed through transition, the form she took on during the full moon, courtesy of the Moonlight Syndrome, had gradually shifted. It had changed in subtle ways, month after month, and now it looked much closer to what Tracy actually looked like. Not identical, of course, you could still tell the difference; but it was clearly her, instead of a different person.

I’d talked to Ellen about it, and she said that it probably meant Tracy was gradually coming to accept herself, fully and in everything. Maybe in the end, she would turn out one of those ‘fucking boring’ people for whom their ideal body was the same as their actual body. Time will tell.

Meanwhile, I would keep helping her as best I could.