Hearing the alarm, you automatically started digging around for clothes in your dresser, despite the fact that you were still wearing pants. You weren’t sure how clean they were anyway.
You pulled out a different pair of jeans and a red-and-white striped polo, which had three buttons near the collar. You slipped them on and found both were rather form-fitting. The jeans showed the curves of your muscular legs and your newly enlarged ass, while the shirt clung tightly to your bulging biceps and showed off your newly sizable chest, which you hadn’t discovered yet.
You left the room to clean up in the bathroom, where you couldn’t help but grin and flex a little for the mirror. You tried speaking in your new Russian accent, and realized your voice was deeper too.
Heading out to the kitchen to grab breakfast, you soon realized that your mother (well, former mother) was as- well, motherly- of you as she was when you were her own child. She fussed over you, made sure your polo was all buttoned, reminded you of things. She sent you off to school with your (former) younger brothers: 10-year-old Theo and 15-year-old Nate.
After dropping Theo off at the elementary school, you and Nate continued walking to the high school. He was strangely more open with you when you were a foreigner sharing his home than when you were his brother. As you separated when you reached school, he said, “I’ll miss you when the year’s over, Max,” and you felt a pang of sadness in your heart.
But it passed. Taking a deep breath, you unbuttoned your polo to expose your chest, then walked inside.
Time didn’t exactly stop, but you did get a decent number of looks. Of course, in this life you’ve been here for a little while already, so people are used to you. But that doesn’t mean they’re not attracted to you.
This becomes immediately clear when you get to your locker and a girl stops by while you open it up and get yourself organized. She’s pretty, and she definitely wouldn’t have noticed the old you.
“Hi, Max!” She said brightly.
“Good morning,” you replied with a smile, in your low, accented voice.
“So, there’s a basketball game tonight. I figured you might want to come? It’s a real opportunity to see American sports,” she said with a wink.
Considering basketball is an Olympic sport too, you’re pretty sure Russians play, but you push aside the irritation at her ignorance and turn up the charm. “Sure, why not?” you say flirtatiously.
“And there’s a party this weekend at Drew McGarry’s house. Maybe you could meet someone,” the girl said suggestively, running a finger over your chest cleavage.
You’re too ecstatic over being invited to Drew McGarry’s house to care. Drew is a superstar at your school, the football star whose popularity never diminishes. He’s also rich and his parties have a stellar reputation.
“Of course!” you excitedly exclaim.
“Ok. See you later, Max,” the girl said as she walked away.
This was working out better than you expected! And it seemed to set a pattern for the rest of the day. Sitting in classes you got stares from fellow students, teachers were more accommodating, and you got lots of social invites, several of which you declined with reluctance. Girls mostly acted like the first one had this morning, unless they were too shy to talk to you, and boys often incorporated you into their friend groups and their talks of sports and girls. You frequently were asked how you got so fit, but you always teased them by refusing to tell.
This was a pretty good life, you thought.