You exit the SUV and avoid looking back, catching yourself before you offer a thank you. Anything could raise suspicion, like the 5 o'clock shadow coming in, unexpected gravel in your voice, or maybe by now you're turning gray, getting wrinkles, or your hairline is receding, you just don't know and couldn't examine yourself in the car for fear of drawing attention to it. You watched yourself transform into your dad before but there wasn't a legend showing how old he was at the time a characteristic manifested on you and the instructions for the socks didn't prepare you for this.
Making it inside and shutting the door behind you, you let out a sigh of relief removing your too tight soccer shoes and clothes at the door. With a slight grunt you reached down and brought the clothes with you to your room along with the duffel with your uniform.
Setting the clothes on the bed and being nude you realize you should take a shower after practice before going anywhere and or doing anything. While in the shower you marvel at your meaty pecs and bulging mass, you feel your tight abdominals and flex, it wasn't easy but you finally managed to put on weight. All throughout high school you were a bean pole but you decided to change all that, force yourself to eat and work out, with the help of football practice you finally started to gain some mass and now you are actually getting beefy. You finally feel good in your body.
Exiting the shower you wrapped yourself in a towel and grimaced at the dirty clothes and duffel holding the nasty uniform on the bed. "No time like the present" you muttered rolling your eyes. Grabbing the laundry you went back downstairs pausing in the kitchen to grab an "after practice" beer. The extra calories aren't 'clean', but its been working for you. Starting the laundry you drop the wad of loose clothes into the machine after emptying the pockets and unzip your duffle pausing to drink the first half of your beer. Then you pull out the uniform to find some kids soccer uniform instead of your football gear.
It was laughably small, made for someone 100 lbs smaller than you, and how did it get in your duffle? Something was eating at the back of your mind. You downed the rest of your beer and dropped the dirty outfit in the machine reasoning that someone's younger brother would be missing it shortly and someone would reach out within a few days. Hopefully, whoever finds your uniform would be as kind as you and wash it as well...
You grab your wallet, phone, housekeys and plod back upstairs after tossing the empty beer can in the trash and grabbing another. Having sufficiently air dried and ready for some fresh clothes, maybe you and the guys could hit up a bar tonight and meet some girls. You get to your bedroom, dumping your stuff on the bed and opening the beer. The air was still steamy from your shower, and your phone buzzed then chirped. You looked at it hitting the power button but it didn't unlock when you held it up to your face, it instead asked you for a pass gesture.
You struggled but couldn't think of it for some reason, instead hitting the back button and reading what you could of the text from the lock screen. Someone named George sent, "Did the socks work? UOK?"
That name seemed familiar but you couldn't place it and didn't remember putting the number in your phone, the context made no sense whatsoever, how could socks work?
You took a swig or two of your beer and went to the closet to find some clothes. It was surreal, every pair of pants and shorts were like 6 sizes too big for you. All the clothes were familiar, but way too large. You patted your small beer belly feeling the tiniest bit self conscious of it. You've been meaning to get back into working out, having graduated college you don't have scheduled practice anymore and wouldn't attend anyway since you have been working two jobs to pay for the apartment and student loans while you try to get a job that pays decent.
Your thoughts were shattered by the phone suddenly erupting in noise... it was that George guy again.
"Tell me you're fixed!" Came a kids voice as soon as the call connected.
"I think you have the wrong number."
"No I don't, you have the wrong memories! You need to find the socks!"
"Listen kid, I don't know how you got your number in my phone, but I don't need to do anything, play your prank on someone else."
"No! Will, you think you're your father. It's the socks!"
"What? Who's Will?" This kid was at least mildly entertaining.
"You are Will! Earlier today, you started aging at soccer practice, you barely got home without my mom noticing your changes, you ran inside to get the socks and get help from the store you bought them from. Now you think you are your dad."
"Wow, that's some story, amazing storytelling, you should be a writer, but its just got one problem."
"What's that?"
"I'm twenty four, I don't have any kids. So I don't have a kid to turn into me, to start thinking, that I'm a father, because I'm not." You triumphantly take another swig of your beer with a smirk.
George paused trying to follow that mess of a sentence, "That means you haven't finished yet... So then why are you in a suburban house in the suburbs with pictures of a family of 4. Two adults, and two boys, one fifteen and Tim's 8 or something."
"I'm not a kid, I'm in my apart..." the realities collided as you recounted the space you're in "oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck ohfuck!"
"Will? Are you back?"
"Mentally, for now." You walked over to the master bathroom, the first signs of your receding hairline beginning to show, your hair several shades darker but still a brown, and the beginnings of the beer belly which will eventually become a defining feature of your, no, HIS imposing figure are visible...
"Will? What's happening?"
"Ugh, I'm stuck in between myself and my so... dad's body. I think I'm still changing but as it stands, I am too small for his clothes, and way too big for mine. I'm going to have to use the socks to turn back into me again."
"And then what are you going to do?"
"Get dressed in my baggiest clothes, grab the socks and my shoes, and drive to the store to talk to someone about the socks."
"Will, you're still 15, you can't drive."
"Right, I meant walk."
"Uh huh, do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"Only till I get my normal shoes on."
You head to your actual bedroom and pull the socks out of the place you stashed them a few short hours ago and rest your fully grown feet in them. "Alright George," you had to glance at the caller ID to remember his name, "I should be myself again soon. Ill call you."
"No, text, I'm grounded remember?"
You changed back to yourself around 8, its now just after 1 and you aged around 10 years... so about 2 years per hour? No, the changes didn't kick in until after practice started at 9:30, so if I have at least an hour till I start to change I should be able to get to the store and back if I take the... no, I can't drive. I may have to wear the socks on the way back... meaning I need to wear a different pair of shoes so I don't lose my body as I'm transforming.