Since the ring seemed to have no problem changing reality at Cassandra’s whims, she decided that she would just cut to the chase and get what she really wanted. She took a deep breath, and then whispered, “I wish I was the most popular girl with the guys at school.”
This time, sparks seemed to shoot out of the ring itself and fly around the room in various patterns before fading. Cassandra’s attention was arrested by what she saw in her mirror, though. Her hair was lightening and growing longer as her skin darkened to a bronze tan, the blemishes on her face and the downy hair on her arms disappearing before her eyes. Her eyebrows thinned, her eyelashes lengthened, irises changed from a cloudy hazel to a brilliant emerald green, lips plumped, nose shrank, chin softened -- she blinked and realized she barely recognized the beautiful face in the mirror.
The legs of her jeans merged together to form a skirt, the bottom hem traveling upward quickly as the fabric changed from denim to cotton and the color changed from blue to black. It was soon a miniskirt, only extending about a third of the way down her thighs -- which, she noticed, had expanded a bit, along with her hips. Being topless, it was easy to see that her waist had contracted a couple of inches, giving her a real hourglass figure.
Her hair seemed to have stopped changing; it was now blonde, wavy, and halfway down her back. She ran a hand through it, and it felt like what she imagined spun silk might feel like. She was taken aback when she pulled her hand out and noticed that her fingernails had been manicured and painted red -- which, she saw, matched the color of her lips. Her altered face was now made up as if she were going out for the evening.
She’d been so focused on her physical changes that she hadn’t noticed the alterations to her bedroom until now. Most obviously, her bed was larger and was a four-poster model, and her bookshelf had disappeared, replaced by what was apparently a makeup table, complete with a chair, a mirror, and a flat surface that was nearly full to overflowing with various cosmetic products.
The magazine cutout photos that had been on her walls were replaced by posters -- instead of Einstein and Michelle Obama, she could now look at the likes of Gisele Bundchen and Christina Aguilera.
Cassandra started to walk over to her dresser to look at the objects that were now sitting on top of it, and realized that her sneakers had been replaced by high-heeled sandals. A little bit wobbly, she did make it the few steps over. Her junior high school academic trophies were gone; instead, she had beauty pageant trophies, and even a sparkly tiara. She’d won a Junior Miss contest in her county, and come in second in the state.
It was all a little overwhelming. She sat down on the edge of her bed -- it was covered with red satin sheets -- and picked up the two garments that were lying on it. One was the pink lace-and-silk bra, which hadn’t changed. The other was a small pink top that buttoned in the front; it would obviously show off her midriff and quite a bit of cleavage.
She giggled at the thought of wearing something like that to attract the boys. It was, like, against the school dress code --
Cassandra stopped that line of thought, realizing that her head felt, for lack of a better word, fuzzy. With the change in reality, she’d lost any evidence of intelligence that had been in her room; she wondered about the state of her IQ.