Dropping the sweatpants, Brian takes the sweatshirt and pulled it back on, torn between liking the way his breasts felt as the inside rubbed gently against them and feeling utterly disgusted by the fact that he even had breasts.
Shrugging on his jacket, Brian turned and hastily stuffed the sweatpants back into his backpack. Zipping the pack shut, Brian shouldered it, shifted it around as it pulled tightly against the sweatshirt and did nothing to hide the changes to his body and finally just settled on zipping up his jacket as he exited the bathroom.
Outside in the hall, Brian realised that at some point the next period bell had rung and that he was supposed to be in English right now. Shrugging, not caring that he was now tardy, Brian figured he had other things to deal with..."More important than a learning something I all ready fluent in," he told himself...at the moment then second period English.
Slipping down the halls, easily avoiding the hall-monitors, Brian slowly made his way back to the bathroom he had used earlier. Inside, he searched about for his missing shirt and when he didn't find it, he slipped out and made his way towards the lost and found.
Casting a glance up and down the hall, Brian hastily began to dig through the box until he found the shirt he had been wearing when he had come to school.
"Just don't understand what it is all come to," a voice said, bringing Brian about and causing him a bit of panic at what might happen if he was caught ditching class and franticly looking about, seeing the nearest bathroom was the girl's toilet, he thought, "What the hell," and dashing toward it, he slipped inside as two teachers came round the corner.
Leaning against the door, listening as the two outside talked amongst themselves, drawing further away, Brian finally turned and dropping down, he looked under the stalls to makes sure that the lavatory was empty.
Satisfied that it was, he turned and proceeded to turn the lock, bolting the door shut. Turning away from the door, he dropped his backpack on the floor and shrugged off his jacket, relieved that he had at least found his shirt and that he had not been caught so far. Squatting down, he unzipped the pack without giving it a second thought and withdrew the grey and red sweatpants from within.
Turning away from the pack, dropping his jacket on the floor, Brian looked in the mirror, again feeling torn between thing he looked really pretty and feeling rather disgusted with the fact that he was seeing a girl reflected back.
Fumbling with his pants, he kicked off his shoes and as he pushed his pants and underwear off, he shrugged off his socks as well. Reaching down, he pulled up on the hem of the sweatshirt and dropping it onto the pile of clothes, which also included his original shirt and the sweatpants, Brian gazed into the mirror, taking in the site that was reflected back.
From the waist up, Brian saw the body of a sixteen years old girl complete with...unsure how he knew such a fact...two, nicely rounded B cup size breasts. Idly playing with a lock of auburn hair, Brian looked at what was presented from the waist down, that which was normal for a sixteen year old boy.
"How did I get myself into this mess," Brian thought as he stopped playing with his hair and crossed his arms across his chest, thinking of how a normal boy could all of a sudden become something that was closer to somebody who was transgender.
Turning away from the mirror, Brian squatted down and picked up his shirt, noting that it had dried since this morning, but that the strawberry-coloured stain was not only still present but apparently had grown worse. Sighing, Brian slowly pulled on the shirt and turning back to the mirror, noting his posture was more feminine, he waited to see if the changes would take place.
When nothing happened, Brian shut his eyes and began to count to ten as slowly as possible. Opening his eyes, Brian could tell that he still had not changed.
Growing frustrated, Brian shut his eyes again and this time counted slowly to twenty five. When it became apparent that that had not worked, he repeated the action, this time counting even slower to seventy five, with the same frustrating results.
Pacing back and forth, he stopped before the mirror, and once again shut his eyes and proceeded to count to one hundred and twenty as slowly as possible. Opening his eyes, he ripped off his shirt and casting it aside, he muttered, "Get a grip on yourself. You already knew what would happen when you tried this and that is that clothes cannot transform a person. It is not possible for a person to change appearances just by putting on an article of clothing."
And turning back toward the mirror, he asked himself, "So how is it that I have become female from the waist up," in a disappointed manner, the sting of tears pricking at his eyes.