"...Ceteris paribus..." "...Opportunity cost..." "...Factors of production..." "...Scarcity..." "...Globalization..." "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."
The economics teacher's meaningless jargon faded into unintelligible background noise. Seth was staring out the window. There was a gym class coming out to play softball on the field just outside. His mind was sizing up the players, making mental projections of each team's odds of winning. It looked pretty clear that the batting team was going to have a hard time against the fielding team. They had a disproportionate number of dweebs and girls. As each player came to bat he sized them up, and predicted whether they would strike the ball or not, and if they did, how close to home they'd run. He was finding his predictions eerily accurate... Maybe it was the confidence they projected or the way they carried themselves, but he could just tell who could get the job done. Eventually his pitcher managed to get the third man out and his team got its chance at bat. He was getting excited to see what they could do. For a moment he thought it was odd that he considered one of the teams to be 'HIS team' and the other to be a rival, but then he couldn't really explain why that should be so odd; that's how sports work. It's totally natural to root for your favorite team and call them your own. Their loss would be your loss, but their win would be your win... Seth wanted to win.
His team started off strong, loading the bases quickly. Someone had taken care to line up the players with the best jocks in front... that or those guys had been the most eager to get a chance at bat and had run in faster than the others... Either way, his team was set to take a commanding lead. The next boy up to bat was a sure bet, he knew it... As the ball popped into the air he lost himself and shouted:
"Alright, Yeah!"
The class fell silent around him. He was brought out of his revelry by the conspicuous absence of his teacher's monotonous prattle.
"Seth? Are you with us?" He asked unhappily. "Noticing the game being played outside."
He walked over and rotated the vertical blinds to abscond Seth's view of the game and noted the distressed, uneasy look it cast over the boy's face, all but confirming his suspicions.
"Seth, why don't YOU answer the question for us?" The teacher challenged tiredly
"Uh, yes sir! I'm with you." He answered with an eager energy.
The class started laughing around him, causing him to shrink down in his seat. He was feeling very uncomfortable in this particular spotlight.
"I was referring to the question I posed to the class, Seth." The Teacher continued with exasperation, all too aware of the boy's lack of presence.
"Oh, right." Seth said, bluffing as best he could. He thought for a moment trying to conjure any scrap of memory out of his mind that might hint at what the question may have been, but nothing was coming to him...
"Uh... Money?" He said with a worried, painful smile.
Again the students around him erupted into fits of laughter.
"If you're going to ignore my lectures; at least keep your mouth shut." The Teacher said acerbically, sliding a crisp detention slip onto Seth's desk.
Seth was more disappointed that he'd lost his view of the game than anything... He tried for a while to listen to the lecture but not a word of it made any sense. He was quickly absorbed by thoughts of the softball game and he tried more than once to catch a glimpse of the action through the blinds as they swayed in the weak air currents from the AC system but he could never see enough to glean anything. The uncertainty and frustration was getting to him. His leg started bouncing uncontrollably...
"Are we still ahead? Once all the jocks were done batting, the game could go either way...We're not going to let those pricks beat us are we?" He thought to himself.
If only he could be out there with his team, showing his support. For some reason he felt like it would make all the difference in the world... He was obsessed!
He glanced up at the teacher, and, seeing that his back was turned, he crept out of his seat and leaned over the window ledge quietly peeling back the blinds. There was no scoreboard, but he was pretty sure his team was leading. Their demeanor betrayed their victorious advantage, plus the other team was looking pretty down...
"We must be creaming 'em." He thought to himself with delight.
"Mr.Danton!" The teacher yelled in exasperation. "What has gotten into you? It's bad enough to allow yourself to become distracted but you are actively keeping the other student's from learning. Please go to the office immediately."
Seth didn't know what had come over him. What was he thinking getting out of his desk like that? It seemed so necessary at the time, but now it seemed so silly.
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His trip to the office had been pretty uneventful, the office staff were dealing with so many other emerging crises that Seth was kind of lost in the shuffle. Eventually he was allowed to go to his next period class without incident, and he was glad because this had been the class he'd been waiting for all day.
He stepped out into the hallway, and immediately began paying into the social fervor. He'd buzz from one cluster of cool kids to another, effortlessly insinuating himself briefly into their discussions, then leaving just as quickly to grace another group with his charming presence. He was slowly making his way to his destination, and he'd already accepted invitations to two parties. He wasn't sure but he thought he'd even made a commitment to help Derek with his weight training...
Finally arriving at his class, he pushed the big heavy door inwards releasing a GUSH of foul, muggy air. It was a familiar sensation but for once he found the experience comforting and soothing rather than gut wrenchingly vile and panic inducing. He filled his lungs with the heavy air, almost gaining nourishment from the dense, omni present atmosphere. The sight of half dressed boys around him was a novel distraction to his mind. He'd only recently started fantasizing about jocks, and now he found himself surrounded by the genuine article. He could even see the potential in the scrawnyer specimens, he could show them just what moves to do to target their problem areas if they'd let him give them some personal training.
He eagerly parked himself in front of his locker next to his best friend Max. They'd been suffering through this class together all year and had bonded over their shared interests, but he could feel the mood was different between them even just standing next to him fiddling with his combination lock.
"What are you doing?" Max said uncomfortably, looking confused.
"Getting changed." Seth replied, oblivious to any issue.
"Ok, but what are you doing here? That's not your locker." Max continued, seeming a little frustrated and maybe even violated.
"Sure it is Max." Seth said, sounding confused himself "This has always been my locker, I just can't seem to get the lock open..."
"I can guarantee you this is not your locker. I'm not sure where you belong, but I think they assigned you one of the big sports lockers at the start of the year, so if you could give me some space, I'd like to get changed now... and no offence, but you might want to consider showering BEFORE class." Max said angrily. He was untrusting of the jock and had been expecting some kind of trick or joke at his expense.
Seth was unsure what to say, and he still couldn't get his lock to open. He was starting to panic, feeling a sudden disorientation and detachment from reality.
"Hey Danton, what are you doing over here?" came Bryce's voice, pulling him back from the brink.
"Huh, oh... I was just chatting with Max, that's all." He lied.
"Lame..." Bryce said flatly. "Come on, let's get changed. I hear we're playing ULTIMATE today!"
Seth perked up at that. He loved Ultimate!
"Later Max." He said following Bryce to his new locker.
"Yeah, sure." Max said; then quietly muttered "Retard."
Seth was struck by the insult and confused by his friend's sour attitude, but Bryce was already talking to him about the ultra star frisbee the gym teacher had acquired.
"They fly so far and straight it's unbelievable." He said.
Seth was intrigued by that, he'd noticed the cheap frisbees they had used in the past had a tendency to drift to one side or another uncontrollably, a proper flying disk would make the game even more awesome. More ultimate! So he quickly forgot about his grouchy friend Max.
Out on the field, they started picking teams. Alyssa and Jaynee were chosen as team captains so they each got to choose their players, but once Jaynee chose Falon, he influenced her to pick the people he wanted, and Seth wound up on her team with most of his new Jock buds.
The game was a blast. Seth actually used to enjoy the game quite a bit before his changes, but now it was unbelievably satisfying to play. He loved the initial rush of the Pull (like a kickoff) and the stampede of bodies it threw into motion. He loved the way the frisbee sailed silently, slicing through the air from player to player. He loved strategizing, and planning the best use of the three steps he was allowed to take after a catch. He was having the time of his life. There was no timer running for the game so he couldn't be precisely sure how close they were to ending, but the two teams were tied and he was determined to pull out a last second win. A pass careened its way towards him but it was dipping low. The frisbee was about to touch the ground! Seth expertly tucked his foot underneath the frisbee, flicking it up into the air and caught it gracefully. He caught sight of Bryce standing beyond the goal line and forcefully flung the frisbee, straight and level, directly at him. The instant Bryce's hand found purchase on the disk, their entire team erupted in cheers and shouts of victory! The game was over and everyone headed back indoors.
Bryce and Seth were chatting about the game, replaying their favorite moments in their heads and reliving them with words, laughing and emoting over the various brilliant highlights.
Bryce stripped off all his clothes and wrapped a worn looking green towel around his waist. Then he turned to wait for Seth to get his things so they could head into the shower together. Seth had never showered after gym before since it wasn't required and because he hadn't been so developed before, so he didn't realize he was holding things up.
"Come on man, shower time." Bryce prodded with restrained urgency.
"Oh, yeah. Right." Seth said, suddenly realizing what was expected of him and giving over to his friend's urgency.
He removed his shoes eagerly and peeled off his soggy socks.
"Jesus Christ!" Seth said in alarm at the sight of his feet.
The tops of his feet were covered in thick hairs, even his toes weren't spared the indignity. He reached down and ran his fingers over the new follicles in disgusted amazement. As he drew nearer he found himself picking up a new and distinct smell through the overwhelming background stench of the locker room. His feet smelled horrid.
"I... I have hairy jock feet... Hairy, smelly jock feet!" He said in bewildered shock.
"You sure do, big man." Bryce said cheerfully. "And those guys won us the game today! Remember how you snatched up the disk at the last second with those nimble dogs? We owe the entire game to those feet! Now lets do them a favor and get 'em washed up!"
Seth was in shock... He'd changed again somehow. Was it the bathroom baiting session that had done it? He hadn't inspected his whole body afterwards... That must be it. He remembered fantasizing about Brian's jock feet, and the way he had imagined they would look... But now his own feet were changed into hairy man trotters, and it was real!... He didn't like it. He didn't want his feet to stink! What was happening to him?Was there a way to reverse this?
"Hey, I'll just meet you in there, Seth. We only have a few minutes to shower and I think I need every one of them to get clean today." Bryce said with a laugh, disappearing deep into the locker room.
Seth followed shortly thereafter in a daze. He didn't even realize what he was doing until he found himself standing naked in a small room with a bunch of equally naked, attractive guys.
Bryce was standing under the water stream to his right. Seth was trying to keep his eyes off the other boys but it was impossible. He just had to hope they wouldn't look back and catch him in the act. To his horror he could feel his shaft becoming engorged again. He was so horny from the masculine skinfest he was practically swimming in.
Bryce noticed Seth's little visitor, and his embarrassment at having it, and tried to reassure him. "It's cool man. Nobody cares that you're gay."
"I'm not gay!" Seth said indignantly. "I've just never been with a girl. I mean... I like Angela."
"Woah, woah, woah... I know we don't talk about it much, but you tell everyone you're gay. I've never heard you deny it before." Bryce said defensively. "And you explained the Angela thing to me before... You only liked her cuz she's butch, and looks a bit like a man."
Seth didn't know what to make of that. He was gay? He was openly gay? That couldn't be true...
He thought about girls experimentally and felt his boner rapidly deflate... He tried thinking about Angela and found himself drawn to certain of her manly features he hadn't noticed before... It was true... He was gay!...
"Sorry, you're right." Seth admitted. "I mean... I was just flustered. I got defensive when you mentioned it. It was a reflex..."
"No problem dude. You don't have to feel ashamed about it with us. We like you." Bryce said with a genuine smile.
The boys got out of the shower and back into their street clothes. Seth's change of clothes were in his gym bag in his regular locker... Now that he knew about his oversized sports locker he realized that had been the right place to store the bag. Now he didn't have any extra clothes.
He frantically wrestled on his dirty clothes, grimacing at the need to reuse his soggy stink-socks, and headed out of the locker room with his buddy.
He was torn about his new life... A part of him wanted to embrace these changes, but his old self was still holding on to some degree. Was there any way to change back? The changes only seemed to progress further and further. He wanted answers. If he could only keep one thing about his old self, it would be his demand for answers.