The day sucked. I couldn’t figure out what my professor wanted me to do and staring at my PC back in the dorm did not help one bit. I had a massive art project to get through and inspiration left me days ago.
Going for a walk had failed me and put me in an even worse mood. But at least the guys in the dorm who hung out around the billiard table randomly invited me for a game. Something to take my mind off this whole shit show. It was Connor‘s turn and his feet kept bouncing around. His nerves were enough to make me wish I’d gone to the bathroom before the walk and game.
Anthony strummed a couple tunes on his guitar that I didn’t recognize but music always helped my anxiety. Zach looked like he was dwelling way too much on his last shots when I wished he would open up about geek stuff. I opened by mentioning my Marvel tee and made my best gestures to connect it to his Star Wars top. He didn’t really take the hint. I wore the weights and frustration of the day on my soul and stared out in the distance of the hall waiting for my next turn to come around.
For an instant, I had this weird inkling like someone was watching me and maybe holding a flashlight. But it was just the four of us. The next weird thing was a tickle against my ears. Knowing how many spiders nested in the upper edges of the ceiling, I was ready to dash away a dropped web or something worse. Things got even weirder fast. My entire world changed without me moving an inch.
Hair suddenly appeared around my neck, shoulders, and way too many other places. My t-shirt felt like it had grown several sizes in the span of a breath. Something was around my neck and that didn’t feel like hair. My lips felt glossy and there had to be some sort of makeup and perfume and so many other things crowding out my senses. The only word that encapsulated all of it was “Ohmygosh!” I also may have made the first squeak in my life.
There were… Boobs making bumps on my chest. They weren’t the biggest things but any sort of boobs on me was cause for alarm. The other guys stared at me and I had no idea what else to say. Connor said, “Dude…what?” As if I might have a clue as to why I felt, looked, and was suddenly dressed like this.
The fact I had on a skirt attached to stockings wasn’t my most immediate concern but it definitely earned a place on the list. I didn’t want to stick around for a couple of reasons, mostly because I had no idea how to deal with the other guys, especially like this. I didn’t want any of them to catch me in my boxers, let alone looking and feeling like… A girl. So, I retreated. Not a very good retreat as simply walking felt so strange and uncomfortable with a hot poker of embarrassment threatening to explode out of me.
Getting away down the hall helped but then I had to keep walking with these unfamiliar legs in the weirdest clothes with soft thighs rubbing against unmentionables. I was almost to my room before I realized I had no clue where my key might’ve gone in this clothing combo, if it even was anywhere now. Fortunately, one of the side, strikingly-shallow pockets in the skirt rattled with a set of keys.
Trying my key in the lock was met with failure. Pounding and rattling, someone on the other end opened the door. It was Marshall, my roommate of the last two years. He looked about the same as usual but there was something uncomfortable in his gaze. He stared at me like I was a stranger. Even more than that, I caught his eyes skimming this body, checking me out as though I were just some random girl who showed up on his doorstep. He had a bad habit of once-overs and it was thoroughly unsettling to be on the business end of his eyeballs.
“Yeah? Sup?”
That’s all he said. I swallowed hard and mentally flailed for how to proceed. If he didn’t recognize me then more could’ve happened than I was realizing. But the guys at the table recognized that something was wrong when whatever happened to me happened. Squeezing a hand against my forehead, which wasn’t feeling any better from all this, I attempted, “Do you know a guy named Taylor?”
My name. Well, I thought it was my name.
Marshall shook his head and responded, “Noooo... Why? Should I? Do you have the wrong room?”
Putting on a polite smile, I followed the suggestion he left me and declared, “That’s it, sorry. Sorry for bothering you.” I hadn’t really been paying attention to my voice because there were crazier things to have to deal with. It held some of the contours of what I expected my voice to be but without the rumble and depth that came from my own neck. Talking without trying sounded like a squeaky girl impersonating me.
Checking my room key again, I could see that it was printed with 212 instead of 116. Upstairs.
I took a handful of the steps near the emergency exit before easing back down to the ground floor. The amount of jiggling those breasts decided to do was entirely too much. The better amount was none. Cautiously, I felt around this girl’s chest and bra to make sure I hadn’t screwed anything up. No, it just seemed like that amount of shifting was normal. I decided to take the elevator. At least it just jolted me at the beginning and the end and it didn’t require me to do a reverse retreat of shame back to the other confused billiards guys.
212 was not too far from about where 116 would be on the ground floor, except it sat on the opposite side of the hallway. Carefully, I slipped the key in the lock and it pushed all the way in and it turned without problem or complaint. The inside of the dorm had some interesting and encouraging landmarks with several wall scrolls from recent RPG games and a really cool Darth Vader one bathed in red lightsaber light.
Colorful strands of lights illuminated a path connecting the hallway sink to the right and the kitchen to the left. Beanbags sprawled in pink tones on opposite ends of the room. Translucent gauze fabric dangled like flowery drapes around the living room and separated a set of classic Nintendo games from a collection of puppy plushes. Muscular, half naked dudes covered the wall behind a silver couch facing the television.
It was totally in a girls dorm and I had no clue if I was supposed to be here. The door closer to the front sprung open and a fair blonde girl wearing a red t-shirt that read “Goonies Never Say Die” and tiny shorts poked her head out.
“Hey, Bea. Good walk? Hungry? There’s a bunch of fried rice cooling in the microwave. I made too much.”
Bea? As in Beatrice? Did she think that was my name? What if it was my name now? Instead of addressing that impossible tangle of questions, I managed, “Hey. Sokay. We’ll see. And awesome. Thanks!”
She approached me from the hallway and, before I was adequately prepared, she’d wrapped me up in an all-consuming, friendly hug. Another reminder that I was so small now. She didn’t tower, but she had more than a head in height versus me. It was a nice hug, the situation was just nuts.
Once Kasey, as I was able to piece together was her name, released me she actually went to work pulling the fried rice out of the microwave and adorning it with extra seasoning and some scallions she got from the fridge. It was really good. The amount of home cooked fresh meals I’d had this semester could easily be counted on a single hand.
The unfortunate part was Beatrice’s little stomach couldn’t hold enough to truly stamp out my hunger. It was enough for her, but my brain still wanted more.
Kasey vented about some professor I never met, but he immediately sounded like a tool. She gave personal hints of her life as well as tidbits of someone named Drake who she was dating. I did my best to lay low and not seem suspicious. She didn’t call out any of my glib offerings, but I felt bad about not being able to contribute more.
Eventually, I was able to sneak away to the farther dorm room and get some sense of who Bea was supposed to be. She was an artist, rather like me, but on a whole different level. An explosion of display pieces spread across the three walls on her side of the space and then battled for spots on the ceiling.
According to the decorations on the other end, her roommate was a girl named Norah and she was a huge Power Rangers fan and an even bigger plant lover. Seven feet of looming bamboo in a clay pot dominated the bright corner soaking up the afternoon rays through the blinds. Dangling vines laced above the window while a content-looking potted plant sat on the desk. I kept discovering scattered, lurking plants as though they were coming out of the woodwork.
Beatrice’s wall by the bed had a black and white lace presentation of her name with fancy ornamentation. She definitely seemed to live the goth aesthetic from her art to the gray, ornate fluffy blankets on her bed. I dug it. The only reason I avoided that aesthetic was because of some pressuring friends when I started college who made fun of it.
Using a full length mirror against the wall, I checked out my reflection. Beatrice wasn’t much taller than the door knob and the upper hinge was above my head. Probably less than 5 feet tall, but I wasn’t super eager to know for sure. Her hair was cute, with a few light streaks in the dark brown and askew around the neck, probably my fault.
The heavy liner with Egyptian style around her eyes made my blinks feel like an animated character. Those black lips and how they moved also felt disconcerting. But not bad. I twisted them up into a cute smile which was weird for my mood the last few weeks and probably even stranger for her. Maybe she was happy though, she had to be happier than me. And maybe I could be happy as her.
The choker on her neck was kind of wild to wear, even though the spikes were more glossy, blunted, and sparkly than intimidating. Out of everything, I felt most comfortable with her black nails. Her hands and arms were so skinny and frail, but that played well with her look. A little metal Ankh on a thin band dove under her neckline. I approved of her black, Marvel t-shirt with a skeletal beast on the side.
It was humongous and dangled almost halfway down her thighs. I could barely see a pleated, leather skirt poking out the bottom. Out of everything, I wasn’t too uncomfortable with the skirt. However, the feeling of all sorts of lacy and soft undergarments that attached to the thigh-high stockings covering her legs, was a different story. The ominous threat of needing to pee loomed in the back of my head, but I’d been able to distract it away from consciousness.
Next to the mirror and leading to the desk, I saw so many photos printed and tacked to the wall. Beatrice had more clothes, costumes, and fashionable combinations than I could ever imagine. She was pretty in a way that felt surreal and strange to witness and feel. She was like a sister I never had or even imagined having.
She was successful too. She definitely didn’t have my kind of problems where even getting started on a simple art project twisted her up in knots and forced her to waste so much time procrastinating. I had to be better as her, I had to follow her example. Over towards her full closet, she had a clarinet case.
Her computer set up wasn’t too different from mine, but I was surprised to see OnlyFans stickers and placards celebrating subscriber milestones. On top of everything else, this girl was Internet popular in a way that made my throat dip all the way to the mysterious nether region between my legs. That was a lot to take in, with everything else. My heart and mind raced and I considered what to do next.