as you where heading to the table you chose your leg hit something.
Then it happened.
Jessica’s foot caught on something, and before she could react, she was falling. Her tray flipped out of her hands, sending her food flying in every direction. She crashed onto the floor, her knees smacking hard against the linoleum, pain shooting through her legs.
The laughter was immediate and sharp.
Jessica looked back to see what had tripped her and saw an 11-year-old boy sitting on the floor, his face a mask of mischievous delight. His hair was a scruffy mop of brown, and he grinned at her as if this was the funniest thing he’d seen all week.
It was one of the students from the school’s alternative provision program.
The alternative provision class was a unique part of the high school. The school district, strapped for resources, had decided to consolidate programs for students who struggled with mainstream education. They’d built a small program within the high school itself with this high school only having the room and money to do so, catering to children as young as 9 and as old as 14, all with a range of behavioral or emotional challenges.
During orientation, the faculty had explained the program to the rest of the students, urging them to be supportive. “This program is about giving these kids a second chance,” one teacher had said. “A stable environment, mentorship, and access to resources can make all the difference.”
The reality, however, was messier. These kids were often loud, unruly, and sometimes outright disruptive. Jessica had heard whispers about fights, pranks, and even a food fight started by one of them last year. the tripping boy grinning in front of her, seemed like exactly the kind of troublemaker she’d been warned about.
The laughter swelled as the boys tablemates joined in. They were all part of the alternative provision group, ranging from little kids barely out of elementary school to awkward middle schoolers. Jessica clenched her teeth, her face burning with embarrassment.
“RILEY!” The teacher assigned to the group, a sharp-eyed woman in her late twenties, stormed over. She looked every bit the competent authority figure—sharp blouse, sensible shoes, and the kind of presence that made kids freeze in their tracks. “What did I say about tripping people?”
Riley shrugged, still grinning. “It was an accident!”
“Apologize. Now.”
“Sorry,” Riley mumbled, though his smirk suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.
Jessica ground her teeth, biting back the curse words rising to her lips. She thought of every swear word she knew, silently directing them all at Riley now knowing the boys name who tripped her.
The teacher knelt down next to Jessica, her expression softening. “I’m so sorry about him. Riley can be… a handful. Are you okay?” She helped Jessica to her feet, guiding her to a bench near Riley’s table.
Jessica didn’t want to sit there. She didn’t want to be anywhere near these kids, who were still giggling and whispering as if her humiliation was the best entertainment they’d had all week.
The teacher inspected Jessica’s scraped knee, now exposed through a tear in her jeans. “It’s not too bad, just a scrape. We’ll clean it up after lunch,” she said kindly.
Jessica barely heard her. Her focus was on Riley, who was sitting directly across from her, still smirking as he stuffed fries into his mouth. She wanted to shout at him, to tell him off, but her humiliation was too raw.
And then it happened.
Jessica felt the ring on her finger grow warm. Her breath hitched as a strange shimmer surrounded her hand, spreading rapidly across her entire body. Her clothes shifted against her skin, and a tingling sensation washed over her, making her shiver.
Her jeans seemed to tighten, then loosen, transforming into a pair of sturdy, well-worn boy’s pants. Her shirt shrank slightly, morphing into a faded but clean T-shirt with a faint logo on the front. Her sneakers changed, too, becoming a pair of scuffed, practical shoes.
Jessica’s body itself was changing. She felt her shoulders narrow, her chest flatten, her legs and arms grow wiry and lean. Her skin felt rougher, her hands smaller. Her hair shortened, strands brushing against her forehead in a messy, gel-stiffened style.
When the transformation stopped, Jessica gasped. She was no longer herself.
Her clothes fit perfectly now, but they looked like they belonged to a kid who couldn’t sit still—knees scuffed, fabric slightly frayed. Her arms were thin but muscular, her legs scarred from what looked like countless scrapes and adventures.
She looked down at herself in shock. Her once-curvy, feminine frame was gone, replaced by the flat, wiry body of an 11-year-old boy.
“What the hell?” she whispered, her voice higher and lighter than it had ever been.
“Jason! What’s wrong with you?”
Jessica’s—Jason’s—head snapped up. Riley was staring at her, looking equal parts confused and amused.
“Stop spacing out, dude. You’re acting weird,” Riley said, tossing a fry at Jason, who instinctively ducked.
Jason froze. The teacher was no longer looking at him like a stranger. She gave him a familiar sigh, standing up and brushing her hands off. “Jason, you and Riley need to stop roughhousing so much. Look at this mess.”
Jason?
It wasn’t just the teacher who saw him as Jason. Riley and the other boys were looking at him like he belonged, like he was one of them. Riley was smiling at him now, not with mockery, but with the kind of easy camaraderie that could only come from being best friends.
Jason’s—Jessica’s—mind reeled. The ring. It had worked. It had chosen this group for her, transforming her completely to fit in.
She—or rather, he—glanced down at his new hands, his new body, his new well... dick, seeing the bulge in his trousers and felt a wave of nausea. Everything about this and it felt wrong, alien. The angles of his body were strange, his movements too light and wiry.
“What’s up with you?” Riley asked, popping another fry into his mouth. “You’re acting weird.”
Jason couldn’t respond. He sat there, his mind spinning, as Riley and the other boys turned their attention back to their meals, laughing and joking like nothing had happened.
*What the hell am I going to do now?*