You feel Brittany's attempts falter as she reacts to the sound of your voice.
"Can you understand me?" You ask. Brittany startles, you notice it with the sudden spike in your collective heartbeat, and the jerks in her shoulders.
She taps a finger against your ear, then your lips, before giving you a thumbs up. She can hear you loud and clear.
Moments later, you pause as goosebumps form on your arms, and you sense a mild cramping motion between your legs. Like your sphincter contracting, but lower down. The muscles down there feel more... present, as well.
Brittany shoots her hands down to her grown, and in response, your legs jerk at the task.
Upon looking down, you quickly notice that these aren't the baggy black jeans that Brittany had been wearing just moments ago. You need a minute to think which girl in her right mind would go to school wearing only see-through nylon stockings over her plain-white panties, but your memory draws a blank. That said, the legs' reaction to their partial nudity was violent.
The cramps intensify as you feel the void between your legs expand. In as much as you want to bend forward and bring your arms around your waist to alleviate the pain, your upper body, which you now confidently believe to be Brittany, hardly reacts to the cramps and instead grabs the hem of her army-green tank top and pulls it over her exposed legs. It goes without saying that it does very little in covering up the backside of your lower body.
"My hoodie." You opper as you spot the piece of clothing still hanging neatly over the backrest of your own seat, a couple of desks to the right. "Grab my hoodie so we can cover you up. It should be big enough that it will fit over your butt, right?" You point at it with a nod of your head, but you figure that Brittany can't really get around seeing what you see anymore. You are slowly beginning to grasp the extent of your transformation now.
Brittany, ever the rational thinker, gives you yet another thumbs up, and an okay-sign, as she places her hands on her desk and uses her arms to propel herself upwards. You reel a bit from the sudden movement, but the brunt of the problem lies in lack of cooperation coming from your lower body. The legs.
They remain tightly pressed together, and while Brittany reflexively veers your new upper body to the right, your legs plant your butt right back down on the seat it had been sitting in.
Brittany's second attempt is equally unsuccessful. In her frustrations she brings her fist against her thigh, as if to say: "wake up and walk!"
You notice your vantage point rising up even further as your new body finally stands itself up straight. Looking around amidst the chaos, you actually see very few eyes on you, since most of your classmates are preoccupied with their own fusions, be it the students who fused together, Andrew with his new snout, Ms. Victoria with her breasts. With the fusions that occurred, there were hardly any more sets of eyes left to look in your direction, seeing how half of the students in your class had all but disappeared.
With tiny steps, your legs inch towards your desk. Brittany, impatient as she is, already has an arm outstretched and her chest bent forward in an attempt to grab your hoodie.
When you finally reach it, damn the bruises that are bound to form on your thighs from the collisions with all the objects in your path, Brittany pulls the hoodie over your head - it momentarily blocks your vision - then over your chest, letting it fall over your pert behind just enough to protect your newly female body's modesty.
'Okay.' You think. Time for damage control. You have already got a hunch about how the fusion wave affected you, but you need a way to properly communicate with Brittany so as to share your thoughts. After all, any attempts at communicating telepathically with your new... 'passenger', have proven unsuccessful.