Jen's muscle car, black and powerful, roared to life inside her garage and she pulled out onto the road with a little more pressure on the gas pedal that she really needed to use. She was going from scared to furious. How dare that little shit do this to her. She was a queen and if he'd been bullied by her and her crew, well that was on him, not on her. The cars stereo system connected to her phone as she throttled down the suburban streets towards Green Hill High School. As she whipped through a stop sign, the superb speaker system in the car played a bone rattling bass note, then launching into an aggressive trap beat.
As a senior at Green Hill High, Jen had a spot reserved for her, and was pleased to see it open as she pulled into the parking lot, windows rattling with the music as she hit a speed bump faster than need be. The throbbing music sent rippling vibrations through the frame of the car and the drivers seat. Her spot was right by the main entrance to the school, a primo location her daddy had slipped some extra bucks to the school admin for. She yanked the wheel as she turned into it and came to a rough halt before putting her machine into park. She grabbed her phone, letting the music continue to play, and checked her texts. They all looked mostly the same as she remembered them being the day before, same friends, same boyfriend, slightly different content but still the same circles.
This confused Jen, and made her wonder how the curse had worked. She looked like a total dweeb who she would have bullied in a heart beat. Bad hair, horsey features, no tits, no ass, enormous mound, tall and awkward. It made no sense that the popular kids would still socialize with her. She shot a text to one of her friends, Amanda Bell, "Hey bitch, you remember some kid named Kyle Jenkins? I need to talk to his dumb freshy ass." She turned the car off at last and opened the door, banging it into the beat up sedan parked next to her. Getting her knees out from under the steering wheel and unfolding herself from the seat took longer than she expected, only increasing her frustration.
As she grabbed the black satchel in the back seat, presumably her school supplies, her phone buzzed. She slammed her car door shut and checked the response from Amanda. A negative, and a joke about how she didn't bother to remember any of the new meat anyway. Another message followed, "Why? You have a plan for him?" Followed by a winking emoticon. Jen responded quickly, "Something like that. See you in homeroom." She tucked her phone away and headed for the administrative offices first, noticing that the crowds of students of all grade levels were glancing her way and avoiding her. She was used to getting looks that were a mix of fear and lust from the student population but now it was nothing but pure unmitigated dread.
She might have been changed physically, she thought as she opened the door to the offices, but she was still the same person on the inside. Rich, confident, and with an intelligence her dad's dumbass therapist had called "sometimes cruel". Unimportant compared to finding the Jenkins kid and fixing her body. Even if she still had the status she didn't want to be some gangly bitch for the rest of her life. Ms. Thompson, the administrative assistant was behind the desk and she frowned a bit as she saw Jen entering the room. "Miss Smith, how can I help you today?" Her voice was strained, but Jen pushed past any hesitation, "Hi Ms. Thompson, I was wondering who Kyle Perkins had for homeroom. He left his books behind at lunch yesterday and I wanted to return them." She hefted her bulky black satchel, as if it actually contained said books.
Ms. Thompson, a fat middle aged white woman with greying hair and glasses nearly as thick as Jen's new coke bottles, sighed and turned towards the out-of-date computer that they'd supplied the school office with. After a tedious minute of clicking and searching she shook her head, "I'm sorry, are you sure you have the right name? There's no Kyle Perkins in the system." Jen blinked for a second and felt a flush creeping over her features. How dare that little punk lie to her. Try and fool her like this. Whoever "Kyle Perkins" really was he was trying to protect himself from retribution. She wouldn't let him get the better of her. She had plans for his sorry little ass. First she was going to threaten him with the curse, before she even used it, scare some fucking sense into him. Then she was going to really give it to him with a transformation or dare that absolutely ruined him before he admitted how fucking stupid he'd been and fixed her.
As she angrily fantasized she ignored Ms. Thompson's increasingly annoyed follow-up questions, caught up in her daydream. It was only when Ms. Thompson raised her voice and said, "Well, I have work to do, so unless you have anything else important," in a tone that adequately conveyed how little she thought of Jen that the teenager snapped out of her reverie. She glared at Ms. Thompson for a moment and then...