The mirror didn't lie. Nor was there a lack of truth when he looked down at himself. But, unwilling to accept what he saw, Dennis flat out refused to accept that he was a girl. He would not, even when he studied his face, which was more feminine than masculine, took off his hat and saw that his short red hair had been cut and styled like a girl's, or when he lifted his shirt and studied his overall appearance, which was that of a girl no older than nine. Something that he figured by not only his appearance, but his height he thought being the biggest tell, and what Billy had said.
"I," he proclaimed in a voice barely about a whisper. "I am Dennis. Eleven years old. My best friend since kindergarten is Billy. I like doing boy stuff, like watching and playing sports. And. And. I like body humour that involves farts and burps," and falling silent, mostly because he didn't like hearing how much his voice sounded like a girl's, Dennis stared at the his reflection, a belief that his sister had some how changed him growing stronger the more he looked into the mirror.
Eventually he slumped against the reflective device. Shrugging off his schoolbag and setting it off to the side, he turned so that he was facing the bathroom. The cool surface of the mirror pressing into his back and buttocks, Dennis whimpered, "I can't be a girl. I don't want to be a girl," and taking off his coat, he dropped it on his pack. Turning his head so that he was looking at the side of his face, he studied the feminine features of his face for a couple seconds before looking down.
Acting quickly before he could change his mind, he shifted so he was splay-legged and he bending over, he peered into the mirror. His bum and girl parts fully displayed, Dennis grimaced at what he was looking at. Hesitantly reaching out to touch his vulva, he shuddered at the the feel of his fingers touching it. Spreading his labia, studying the pinkish-white area, unsure what he was looking at was called, thinking it looked like there was two openings into his body, he quickly took his hand away and straightened up. Glancing down, wishing he could see his penis and testicles instead of flat skin, Dennis whispered, "I'm a girl," in a terrified tone. Looking at the toilet, remembering what he came into the room to do, he thought, "How, why, did Jenny turn me into a girl," he waddled back toward the toilet, lowered the seat and, after hemming and hawing, sat down.
At first, he was scared that either nothing would happen or that he would have to do something. Sitting on the toilet, going through the same motions he normally did when he stood in front of one, he was relieved when his bladder let go. But then he became alarmed as he realised that he was sitting down to pee and that the urine was leaving his body from an area he couldn't see unless he looked at in the mirror. Tensing up, which caused him to stop peeing, Dennis struggled with a surge of emotions washing over him before finally settling on that he felt both repulsed and fascinated by how he was peeing. Glancing around the bathroom, which he found to be tidy and rather cute with it blue decorative hues, he soon began to relax again.
Suddenly realising what would happen the instant he fully did so, Dennis found himself torn between the understanding that it was perfectly nature and the truth that in order to pee, he had to squat or sit down. That standing to pee was no longer a real option for him. Peering at the baby blue carpet that had been placed in front of the toilet, a match to the one in front of the sink, he took a couple deep, calming breaths. Starting to urinate once again, Dennis tried to keep his mind from leaping back to what he saw in the mirror and making a connection that his pee was leaving from a part of his body that he couldn't see at the moment or hold to aim at the toilet.
"Don't think about it. Just do it," he whispered as he studied the various details of the bathroom in an attempt to keep himself from thinking what he was doing and the way he was doing it.
When he finished, he sat for a bit, mostly because he didn't quite believe he was done. Wanting to make sure, scared at the possibility of making a mistake and peeing on himself, not quite willing to trust himself that he was done, so used to having stood to pee, he reached out to the roll of toilet paper without giving much thought to what he was doing. Taking some, he proceeded to place it between his legs, where he patted, dabbed and wiped himself. Realising what he was doing, Dennis dropped the wad of toilet paper in the toilet and stood. Flushing, knowing he was done, but unsure how he knew, he lowered the lid, something he normally didn't do.
"God," he hissed. "I'm even starting to act like a girl." and pulling up his pants and underwear, he headed for the sink to wash his hands.
His thoughts going to his mom and Jennifer and how they were always harping on him to put down the lid and seat, Dennis lathered his hands and wondered if this was normal. Reasoning that his dad didn't care, he considered maybe it was something girls cared more about then guys. Pondering it over, he found himself also wondering if all girls wiped themselves after peeing.
Unable to answer these and other questions he had about the girls, Dennis dried his hands and stared into the mirror above the sink. Shuddering, he asked himself, "Is my mind going girly? Will I eventually find it easier to do things a girl does? Will I find that not only do I like doing things that a girl does, but I also find them enjoyable? Natural? That my interests, my tastes, will be the same as a girl. And will I find that what a boy does utterly alien? Possibly repulsive?" and finding it dreadful that there was a chance that, with his body gone girl, his mind could follow and that there would be nothing left of his former male self.
Neatly and nicely folding the hand towel back up and hanging it where he'd gotten it, missing completely that, normally, he would have simply left it wadded on the sink, Dennis turned away from the sink. Collecting his coat and backpack, failing to realise that he'd started thinking them and the clothes he was wearing as his, Dennis shrugged on the jack and slung the schoolbag over one shoulder. Thinking, "I cannot be a girl. I'm a boy," he resolved, "I need to find Jenny, get her to explain why she turned me into a girl, then get her to undo it," before taking a deep breath, briefly wonder if he had taken took much time in the bathroom and if Rachel would notice, then reach for the door handle as he tried to prepared himself for whatever came next.