"Whoa, I'm sorry," she says, and you see that it's Tamara Schwarznicht -- who tries to get people to call her Tamara Blacknight -- wearing all black, as usual, so it's no wonder you didn't see her.
"I should have figured you'd be on edge," she continues. "So how do you like being a basketball star now?"
You gasp, and practically push her to the bleachers nearby, where you can sit down. "All right, what do you know?" you ask.
"Everything," she says. "I cast the spell, made the potion, hid it in your locker -- "
"But why?" you interrupt.
"A few reasons," she says, and she begins to count on her fingers with long black- painted nails. "One, I turned 16 last month, which meant I got my full magic powers. Two, I decided that as long as sports were going to get so much attention in this school, it might as well be girls' sports. Three, I think the world could use more intelligent, attractive women. Four, I wanted to use a guy who already knew a little something about playing basketball, and I had to get him to drink a potion to activate the major transformation portion of the spell, and I figured you'd be the most likely to drink something random left in your locker." She grinned at that, and gave a thumbs-up sign to indicate the last number. "Five, as it turned out, it was pretty easy to change reality the way I wanted. All I had to do was have your mother show up at a certain party in her junior year in college and meet this guy named Richard Fox, who she ended up marrying. Then I just had to tweak a few other little things --"
"Wait, what?!" you exclaim. "You made it so my mother married a different guy? ! I have a different father?!"
"Well, yeah," says Tamara. "I mean, there's only so much DNA tweaking magic can do. I wouldn't have been able to turn you into a gorgeous 6-foot-tall girl with an incredible talent for sports if I'd kept you with your old father." She shrugs. "Besides, how much difference can it make? My father left my mother before I was even born, and --"
"It makes a lot of difference!" you practically scream. "I love my real father, and I love my male body, and you had no right to do this to me!"
Tamara sighs. "Hey, you're the one who drank a mysterious fluid in your locker without knowing anything about it. What if it had been poison, or turned you into a bug, or something? Besides, I think you should try living your new life for a while before you yell at me. You've got the face and body of a supermodel. I tweaked reality so that your family's rich -- you'll find you've got a BMW convertible in the parking lot. You're good enough to definitely get a basketball scholarship to college, and from there, the possibilities are pretty much endless. You could choose to end up a pro athlete, or an actress, or a talk show host, or President..."
Now you sigh. It does sound like this could be better than your old life as a boy, but you're still not sure you're prepared to lose your gender identity.
"Your hair's a mess, though, and your face doesn't look much better," Tamara points out. "I did kind of tweak your brain to make you feel a little more feminine, and of course your hormones are fully female and making you attracted to guys -- but I guess I'm going to have to take drastic measures."
"Wait, what?" Tamara points at you, and you begin to feel the strange sensation of hair being pushed out of the follicles on the top of your head. It's tickling your neck and extending down your back. When it stops, you can feel it barely touching the top of your ass.
"Yeah, that bob was kinda cute, but you can't beat nice, long, flowing tresses," Tamara says, overdramatically running a hand through her own long hair. "Okay, I've given you magic hair, which will always look perfect with no effort on your part -- you don't even have to get it cut -- and magic makeup, which will also always look perfect, et cetera, et cetera. Don't worry about people finding it weird that they never see you in front of a mirror with a hair dryer or a mascara brush -- they'll just kind of accept that you're like that." She crosses her arms. "So that's two big girly things you don't have to worry about. Do you still want to yell at me, or are you at least willing to give this a try?"