"This is a nightmare," Jeff thought crossly after having quickly fled from the coach's office. Not having paid attention to where he was going, he eventually stopped and leaning against a wall, he gazed up at the ceiling and muttered, "A damn nightmare," and hating how much his voice reminded him of what had happened, Jeff squeezed his eyes shut, questioning how he could have been so stupid.
A sensation of dread at the prospect of facing the next four years trapped in a body he had no understanding creeping over him, Jeff slowly opened his eyes and pushed away from the wall. His backpack causing his balance to shift, which in turn made the skirt portion of his dress brush against his legs, and remind him that he was wearing no underwear, he toyed with the idea of somehow stealing the transmitter back. But, remembering the sound of a key turning in a lock as Coach Gillian locked the desk drawer, Jeff despaired even more. Hugging himself, feeling the soft of fabric of the dress crushed against his skin and his arms pressing into the underside of his breasts, he immediately dropped his arms back down to his sides and began to weep.
Blindly starting to once more make his way through the school, his mind leaping from one idea to the next, Jeff disregarded them as quickly as he thought of them. Settling on the computer programme, he wondered if there was a way to use it without the remote. Wiping the tears from his face, feeling ashamed not just at what had happened but also that he broken down into what he perceived to be an emotional wreck, he sniffed. Looking about, trying to determine where he was, he told himself, "Get a hold of yourself," and thinking of excuses to tell anyone he might run into as to why he was blubbering, he headed in the direction of the nearest exit.
Outside, he paused in the late July heat and took several calming breaths. Starting to feel a bit better, Jeff hoped he could undo everything as he adjusted his pack so it was sitting more comfortably. Heels clicking against the sidewalk, he took one last glance at the school, tried to come up with a way to get back the transmitter and, drawing a blank, began to walk back home.
Unsure what he would say to aunt Carol, certain she'd want to hear all about how he'd made the squad, Jeff took his time. Trying to sort his thoughts, finding he was dwelling mostly on what he'd do with the Chronivac programme if he could use it without the remote, he breathed a sigh of relief when he reached home and saw that his aunt's car wasn't in the driveway or parked under the attached carport. Letting himself in the side door, he stood for a moment in the kitchen, listening to the silent house, confirming he was indeed the house was empty except for him. Hearing nothing, he checked the fridge, where his mom usually left notes, and discovering a note from aunt Carol, he read, "Had to run a couple errands. I'll be back around supper time. Want to hear all about tryouts, which I believe you passed with no problems. Hugs and kisses. Aunt Carol." Recycling the note, Jeff sat down at the table and sitting like he would normally, legs spread, he leaned forward and pulled off the high-heel shoes.
Relief expressed in a sigh, Jeff sat for a moment, wiggling his toes and every so often rubbing his feet. Staring down at his lap, he eventually adjusted the way he was sitting. Trying to emulate the way the girls had been sitting on the bleachers with their legs held together and placing one leg behind the other, forgetting he'd done the exact same thing a couple hours ago, Jeff groaned when he noted how easy it was for him to do so and how appropriate it seemed to be sitting so. Standing suddenly, he scooped up the shoes off the floor and, holding them by one finger, he collected his purse and backpack from where he'd dropped them on the table and headed for his bedroom.
Tempted to remove the dress he was wearing, Jeff resisted it as he strolled across his room. Ignoring everything about it that showed the truth of his situation, he dropped his backpack neck to the desk, his purse on the desk, sat down in front of the computer and booted it up. Waiting as it turned on, he absently tapped his finger nails on the desk, feeling restless and hoping that, even though he'd lost the remote, he still could undo what had happened. When he'd finally logged in and the desktop appeared, he clicked on the Chronivac icon and pulled up the programme. Searching it, desperate for any hint of an end to what had happened, he eventually groaned and sat back. Staring at the screen, he idly begin clicking, still looking, but knowing that, without the transmitter, there was no way he could turn himself back.
"I don't want to be Jessica," he suddenly wailed in a high voice and feeling like was going to start crying again, he screamed at the programme, "I cannot be a girl. I don't how to be a girl. It's not fair," and still clicking on stuff, he eventually learned that there was an expected growth function that was set to default.
Unsure what that meant, he clicked on it and learned that, as Jessica, his growth would be normal and that by the time Jessica was done growing, she'd be what was considered average - five-foot-five, a hundred and twenty-three pounds, C cup breasts and a size s/m figure. Backing out of it, Jeff clicked on a couple more things, still searching for what he tried to assure himself was there and was elusive. Discovering that his sexual preference was normal for a girl, which he wondered how he could have missed that but figured he must have glanced over it and simply clicked the box marked "Boys/Men" without giving it too much thought, Jeff searched a bit longer, learning that, as Jessica, her reality was that her father had left shortly after she'd been born, his dad had died when he was about five, her mom had died in childbirth and that she was raised by her aunt, who was a successful business owner.
Eventually closing the programme, fully coming to the realisation that without the remote, he was stuck as Jessica, Jeff crossed his arms across his chest, sniffed and stood up. Staring at his room, he drifted over to his bed and lay down. Reaching for one of the stuffed animals, he hugged it close and feeling himself starting to cry, he whispered, "I cannot do this."
After a bit, he rolled over and stood. Looking over at the full-body mirror, he tossed the plush back on the bed and walked over to the mirror. Peering into the reflective surface, staring at himself, he took in as much detail about his female appearance as he could. Reaching for the buttons on the front of the dress, he undid all four, pushed the shoulder straps down and didn't try to stop as the garment slipped off him and puddled to the floor. Peering at his naked body, studying his breasts and bare groin, of which he knew no hair would grow, a left over that hadn't been changed when he'd used the Chronivac to remove all his body hair when he'd still been a guy, Jeff gingerly touched the two mounds of flesh of his pushed out chest. Shivering, liking that gentle caressing feeling, hating himself for liking it, he toyed with the idea of looking at his girl parts and instead quickly turned away from the mirror and headed for the dresser.
A quick search revealed all the clothes within and holding up one of pairs of the underwear he was expected to wear as Jessica, he asked, "How can girls wear stuff like this?" as every single pair was either the same type, a thong, he'd been wearing when he first transformed into Jessica, or what he thought was an odd shirt that came down, covered his butt and groin, and had snaps on a part that would end up between his legs.
Not knowing it was called a bodysuit, just knowing he didn't want to wear it, he pulled on a pair of panties. Adjusting them, trying to get used to how they barely covered his front, pressed into his girl parts, rode high on his hips and ran across his butt crack, he eventually reached for a bra, of which there was only two - the kind he'd been wearing when he first began Jessica, and a modest collection that he quickly figured only covered the nipples of his breasts. Wrapping the bra around his torso, he struggled for a moment to get the front to clip and finally managing to get it secure, he wondered how it managed to stay on and why pressed his breasts in a way that made them look fuller. Failing to come up with a reason, he searched the next draw and found a white tank top that had thin shoulder straps and, after pulling it on, discovered that it left his midriff bare. Searching the third drawer, he eventually settled on a pair of black pants that didn't button up, but rather had a cord on front that formed an small X when tied. Pulling on the pants, he at first thought they were too small, as they came down a bit below his knees and after tugging on them, but getting nowhere, finally figured there must be a reason for the pants to be so.
Dressed, thinking he looked all right, he stared down at the pants, not knowing they were called capri pants, and found himself disliking how tight they were and how they clearly showed and emphasised that he was a girl. Thinking there was nothing he could do about it, deciding that until he could figure out how to get out of the girly nightmare he'd been thrust into, Jeff headed back to his computer. Clicking on the internet, he pulled up a search engine and, after thinking about it for a moment, he started searching for anything he could learn about being a girl, starting with make-up and trying to figure out what Tampax meant, figuring as he clicked on a couple websites that he had sixteen years of knowledge, of what a girl learned naturally over the course of her life, to make up for.