As Ian thought about who to change next he remembered Dylan, a guitar playing sophomore. He smiled a bit to
himself at the genius of the idea. Dylan was from the south and had moved up here with his parents last year.
He was very self-conscious about his so-called ‘bible thumper Baptist’ parents and southern stereotypes so he
did all he could to fit in. In fact, you wouldn’t even know he was from the south if you weren’t truly
looking. He had all but rid himself of his accent and mannerisms, kept himself very clean and dressed mostly
in skater type clothing and shunned his parent’s religious ways much to their chagrin. He had a round boyish
face with blue eyes and shaggy brown hair. He was about average in height and very lean, made all the more
apparent by his skinny jeans and tight tee shirts. All in all he looked every bit the average skater boy who
played a little rock on the side on his guitar but Ian thought it was high time he accepted his heritage…
Ian quickly and somewhat reluctantly allowed his body to shrink back down into the guise of an emo teenager.
He was becoming more adept and accepting towards the constantly changing but he still preferred his ‘real’
body. Leaving the others to help the new bass player set up Ian walked through the halls pretending to just
be wondering aimlessly but actually searching diligently for Dylan. He finally spotted him just leaving music
class and casually passed by, giving him a friendly pat on the back and asking about his guitar playing. Ian
pretended to listen to the shy boys reply and then excused himself, Dylan would be coming back to him soon
enough.
Dylan thought it odd that Ian had suddenly talked to him, he usually hung out with a much darker crowd but he
quickly put it aside and went to meet up with his friends. As he walked he couldn’t help thinking about how
sad he was making his parents with his choices, they just wanted him to be more like a traditional southern
kid, a bit like his parents. Maybe he would humor them and go to local church. The new pastor was supposed
to be really inspiring. He didn’t know where these thoughts came from but they only grew stronger. Dylan
didn’t notice, but someone watching might pick up that as he walked his pace gradually shifted. He started
with his shoulders hunched, his legs close together and eyes somewhat tilted down but with each step he seemed
a little more confident. His stride gradually lengthened and his legs spread further as his shoulders slowly
moved back, from the awkward stride of a shy teenager to a more proud, confident and macho gait. His thoughts
continued to exist elsewhere thinking more and more about trying to appease his parents, he realized he was
already at his locker and his friend was staring at him strangely.
“Oh hey Brian… is there something on my face?” Brian shook his head.
“No man, just you look a little different, you cut your hair or something it seems shorter and I think your
accents coming back a little.”
“Nah, that can’t be right… hey I think it is.” Dylan noticed a southern accent was starting to tinge his
words but try as he might it just got stronger.
“The heck… this ain’t how I was talkin’ earlier.” Dylan coughed a bit, his voice sounded kind of rough,
deeper, maybe it was just a cold but since when did colds cause accents?
“Its cool man, relax, you’re probably just stressed about Katie.” Brian laughed, Katie was the girl Dylan was
crushing on, he even planned to ask her out today and Brian knew as much.
“You reckon she’ll go for a guy like me?”
“Well I reckon you should shave first but sure why not?” Brian gave his friend a playful jab but Dylan stood
there confused, he’d never shaved a day in his life but as he lifted his hand to his face he did feel some
hairs poking through. He looked at himself on his phone and saw his chin was darkened by quite a few new
hairs and even some above his upper lip. Part of him was kind of excited by the idea and part of him was just
disgusted.
Dylan excused himself and went to go try his luck with Katie. People looked at him funny as he went by and he
pulled at his clothes a little. He was starting to question why he bought this stuff. These skinny jeans
were so tight and ugly he really just wanted to wear some old fashioned jeans and maybe a wifebeater to show
off how great his arms were getting. Wait? When did his arms get good and when did he care? But they were
nice now that he thought about it, they looked darker, he could see a nice farmers tan coming in. The biceps
were round and firm, big without even flexing. He smiled a bit smugly but couldn’t shake the feeling that
something was off. He kept adjusting the skinny jeans they were tight, tighter than they should’ve been. It
felt almost like he was growing under there. His pecs were also pushing out somewhat into his shirt. Before
he had been pretty flat chested but it was starting to look like he worked out on a regular basis, or did
heavy labor.
When he finally spotted Katie he stopped, the swelling in his jeans and the tightness in his chest said he
wanted her but he knew God didn’t want him to do this nor would his ma and pa he realized. He needed to wait.
He felt conflicted, he knew something was wrong and different he wasn’t like this when he woke up. He felt
his face and his bigger hands brushed a full goatee and much thicker ‘peach fuzz’ on his lip. Even his arm
was covered in darker hairs. He grasped as his formerly shaggy hair but it retracted even more quickly into a
short crew cut. Something was calling him to the band room and the urge to please his parents, to change was
growing getting so strong he couldn’t think. He felt knowledge flooding out of his head, knowledge he was now
ashamed of until only beautiful simplicity remained, the bare essentials of worship and living. How to work,
how to play his guitar, country music, helping around the house… His head vibrated with all that was lost and
gained. As he rushed to the band room his pace quickened, his legs had thickened and become beefy, hairy legs
to match his larger arms. They were big from playing sports with the guys after school. Football, wrestling,
sometimes baseball but only manly sports none of that sissy stuff like soccer. His voice was now very deep
and his mind fogged by the changes.
“Glad you could make it!” Dylan saw Ian, or at least a guy that kind of looked like him waiting inside. The
door closed behind him and Ian stretched out a hand. Dylan took it and gave it a firm handshake as he’d been
taught, feeling the warmth inside him become more intense as he did so. Dylan cringed in pain, his face
contorted with agony as his changes accelerated and completed themselves. His jeans burst, no longer able to
contain his thicker legs. His shoes followed suit as his feet went from size 8s to size 12s in mere seconds,
expanding and widening as the toes grew longer and plump. The shirt was also destroyed, his thick chest now
coated in a decent amount of hair barreled out. He wasn’t naked for long as Ian handed him a wife beater and
jeans along with some larger boxers and boots. The now 18 year old, wiped of his former disdain for his
destiny smiled with gratitude and went over to practice guitar while Ian set out to finish the band before
day’s end…