Impossible.
It's just impossible.
You stare into the mirror forever. It can't be real, can it? You can't possibly...
That face isn't yours. The hair isn't the only thing. Lee cut it as short as you wanted: barely an inch long. But the face. It's a girl's face. Unmistakably. Has it been that way all along? Have you been so preoccupied with the hair that you just didn't notice these other changes?
Those long, thick eyelashes. Those thin, pink lips. That pale but rosy-cheeked complexion. That small, thin face is yours. Yet it can't be. You wanted to look like a boy again, but even now you don't. You just look like a girl with a boy's haircut.
"Is...is it all right?"
You jump a little in your chair, breaking your gaze into the mirror. You turn to look at her as she walks around to face you. You can see from her expression what you've come to realize for yourself.
"I still look like a girl, don't I?" you ask.
She says nothing. After a few seconds, she looks away and nods slowly. "Does that mean...you don't usually look like that?" she asks nervously.
You throw off the sheet, not caring about the flurry of cut hairs you just sent flying around the kitchen. You storm into the bathroom and slam the door. You yank off your baggy tee-shirt. You turn to the mirror.
It must have been obvious before, but you were somehow blind to it. The thinner waist, the weaker muscles, the shorter frame, and the longer hair. They were connected after all. The answer to the equation was right in front of you this entire time, and now you truly realize it.
"I'm...becoming a girl?" you whisper in disbelief. Your body has thinned in just the right places. Your complexion is softer, your waist is thinner but your hips are proportionately wider, your fingers are dainty, your fingernails have grown out, and so did your hair--until just now. All of the changes you've experienced over the past two days have been changing you to appear more feminine.
But that means...
You pull down your pants--not a difficult task, considering their tenuous grasp on your woman-like thighs--and whip out your member. Thank goodness, it's the same as it's always been.
At least, for now. And you don't appear to be growing breasts, either. So far the changes have been purely cosmetic. Your clinical determination of gender isn't in question, but at a glance you could easily pass for a woman. Even looking into your heavily-lashed eyes, you can barely see the vestiges of your former self.
Strangely enough, you recognize this new face. You've seen it somewhere before.
You hear knocking on the door. Lee calls to you. She's worried. You tell her you're okay, and you'll be out in a minute. You put your shirt back on and prepare to emerge from the room. Do you tell Lee what's been happening? Do you tell Clay? What if they think you're crazy? Or worse, a freak?