Dumping his backpack on the floor, brushing a lock of auburn hair out his face, thinking, "I am going to need a hair cut soon," Brian mentally cursed at himself for forgetting that today there was to be a math test.
Leaning down, missing the fact that everything about his body from the waist up was tingling, and that his nipples and breasts had grown rather sore and kind of tender, Brian unzipped his backpack and withdrew a pencil, upset that he couldn't even get to his locker on time to dump his backpack and jacket within.
Lying his head down on the desk, Brian silently wished that the math period would just end, sure that he was going to fail the test anyway and that there really wasn't any point in him trying.
"Is there a problem, Mr Bunczak," a voice asked and looking, Brian saw Mrs Needamyer looking down.
Shaking his head, he watched as the strict teacher deposited the test on his desk, telling him, "Then sit up and put down the hood on your sweatshirt," as she dropped the several pieces of paper stapled together.
Sighing, Brian pushed on the hood and then shoved the lock of auburn hair out of his face once again and then stopped. Reaching up, he pulled a lock forward and stared at it, confused, sure that this morning when he had awoken, his hair had been the normal dishwater blond it always been.
"What the hell," Brian thought as Mrs Needamyer told them to begin.
Pushing the lock of hair back, confused by the sudden change in colour to his hair, Brian picked up his pencil and flipping over his test, he thought, "It cannot be helped," as he absently rubbed his ears, which had developed a hole in each.
An hole later, unable to ignore any longer the odd tingling sensation and the fact that not only are his breast really sore and tender, but also feel as if they are pressing lightly against the inside of the sweatshirt, Brian is only too glad as the bell rings and he is able to drop his pencil in his backpack and take the finished test up to the teacher.
Grabbing his backpack, Brian slipped out of the room, receiving several comments from several girls who told him he had a real cute hair style. Bothered by these complements, nodding and muttering thanks, Brian hurries down the hall and at the first restroom, he ducked in and closing the door, he locked it, barely noting as he dropped his pack onto the floor that it was one usually reserved for the handicapped.
Turning toward the mirror, Brian let out a loud gasp that nearly turned into a scream of terror when he thought that somebody else might be in the room with him and it was not a mirror that he was turning toward.
Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and stared at the reflection, sure that it was not his. The face was to round, to feminine, to be his. The eyes had shifted from his normal brown to something that was closer to a hazel. His hair had truly shifted colour and was now auburn and down to just past his shoulders with a very subtle curl to it. Leaning forward, Brian noted that both his ears were pierced and sighing, he accidently dropped his gaze as he attempted to come to terms with the change to his head.
It was then, with his waist pressed tightly against the sink, that he noticed, with the sweatshirt pulled taut, that he noticed that his chest for some reason was now more noticeable, sticking out much in the same way his mother's, younger sister's and every girl in school.
Scared, Brian muttered, "What the hell," as he reached down and grasping the hem of the sweatshirt, he lifted.
Up over his head and tossing the sweatshirt onto his backpack, he gazed into the mirror, once again, taking in the shocking sight that greeted him, attempting to come to terms with what he saw and force himself not to scream out in terror.
His chest was now more pronounced, as well as his nipples, which were erect. The pink area around the nipples where rounder and staring at his breast, gently cupping the new flesh in his hands, Brian mind suddenly flashed to his sister as he realised that he had bigger breasts then her, which he thought might has something to do with the fact that she was eleven and he was sixteen.
And then thought, "But I do not want breast. I am not supposed to have breasts," flashed through his mind as he dropped his hands away, noticing for the first time how small they were.
Holding his hands up before his face, he took in how petite and slim they had become. Tracing his hands up his now slim arms, Brian marveled at how soft his skin had become and skinny his arms were. Lifting up his arms, he looked at the smooth armpits and thought flashed through his mind that, at the age of sixteen, he had still yet to grow any body hair.
Bothered by this thought, Brian dropped his arms, causing his breasts to jiggle about just a bit. Disturbed, Brian hugged himself, and then let his arms fall as he realised how feminine it made him look.
Instead, he traced the curves his torso had taken, noting that his body was now more hourglass shaped, ran a hand over his flat abdomen and then with a cry of alarm as he realised something, he hastily undid his pants and placed his hand down his underwear, touching the semi-hard penis he found there.
Sighing, noting that even his waist had shifted subtly by not only dropping down a size or three, but had also moved up to a place more appropriate for a girl, Brian thought, "Well, whatever is happening it appears to be only from the waist up."
Disturbed on how he looked like a girl, Brian turned away from the mirror and, without giving it a second thought, squatted down to collect the sweatshirt instead of bending at the waist like he would normally do when picking up something, touching his backpack in the process of doing so.
It was then that he remembered the sweatpants that he also taken and unzipping the pack, he withdrew the pants, looking at them, wondering why on earth he had even felt compelled to take them.
Standing, he turned to the mirror, barely taking a single notice at his naked flesh, suddenly feeling like he wanted to put them on. As he contemplated such a notion, it flashed in his mind that it might be the clothes that were transforming him, but then disregarded the notion as completely silly and rather illogical.
"Still, it wouldn't hurt to investigate," Brian thought as he unconsciously held the sweatpants up in front of himself, trying to judge if they would fit or not.
"Perhaps I could find my discarded shirt in the lost and found and try that on and see if anything changes," he idly thought as he played with the draw string on the pants, wondering if anything else would change if he put back on the sweatshirt or if it would feel strange to wear his jacket with a pair of breast pressed up against the interior lining.