"Shit!" You think. You left the box of condoms out downstairs. What if someone finds them and throws them out ... or worse, in the condition of your new body punishes you for having them. You quickly run downstairs, hoping and praying that neither of these things comes true. You skid to a halt in the kitchen to find your "brother" standing there with his arms across his chest.
"Hey Squirt, I thought I told you to clean up your own trash before mom gets home!" he says. Looking at the table you feel your heart skip a beat. The box of condoms is gone replaced by a small red backpack with contents full of papers, books and half eaten food strewn in plastic bags upon the table. At first you feel fear. Where did the condoms go? What if you get stuck like this? But then that fear switches to embarrassment, as if your brother is exactly right that you cant leave your stuff out for "mom" to see. Against your better judgement of running off to find the condoms, you begin to pack your things into the canvas backpack noticing with a twinge of fear that all these books should belong to someone just entering junior high school.
You feel a large hand ruffling your hair as your brother pops open a beer can he'd taken from the fridge. "That's better, squirt. Don't want you turning into me." You of course, can only think of the irony of your own situation as you once were older than him. Then you notice a single, shimmering red condom in the bottom of the pack. Your heart leaps for joy even though it is the next size down from the blue one that caused this. Slinging the pack over your back, you quickly make tracks back upstairs to your "room" and find that the entire box had somehow transported there while you were gone...its contents still spilled out, but now over your bed.
You feel relieved as you close and lock your door behind you. Reality has seemed to shift with you as you've changed, and what fourteen year old kid would leave condoms out on a table for anyone to find.
That's when you decide to...