You lock the door to your apartment and head down the street to the mall. You've just finished moving in, and you're excited, if somewhat nervous, about beginning college tomorrow. You're living on your own for the first time, far away from family, and while you miss home, the privacy and freedom is refreshing. You're not exactly a wild girl, but the thought of no one checking up on you or telling you what to do brings a smile to your face. You're feeling a bit lazy after all the unpacking, and you know there are plenty of places to eat nearby, so you decide to explore and grab some dinner. No one knows you here, and tomorrow at school will essentially be a clean start.
You aren't really looking to shop for anything, but a large "SALE" sign catches your eye. A small shop looks like it's going out of business, and there is a rack of t-shirts in front of the window. You don't particularly need clothes, but then you see the tag: 50 cents each. You look closer, and see that while the t-shirts are nothing special, they appear to be well-made. You can't turn down a deal like this, and most of them look fine to wear to class, since you're not the type to dress formally. There is a great variety, and you think to yourself bemusedly that no two seem to be alike. Since they are so cheap, you decide to buy as many as you can carry, even though some seem a bit large or a bit tight for you. You figure the ones that don't fit well you can wear around the apartment while cleaning or doing chores, or give away as gifts. The disinterested store clerk bags your goods, and your arms ful and your stomach empty, you head off to find dinner.
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You wake up the next morning to your alarm blaring. You must have hit the snooze button, because the current time display jolts you awake. You have to hurry, or you will be late for the first day of class. Your hair is relatively short, and doesn't need much upkeep. Yanking on jeans, socks, and underwear, you are running too late to look for a top. You grab one of your purchases from yesterday out of the still-full bag sitting in your closet, which happens to be a plain blue t-shirt. You pull it over your head, involuntarily blinking as the collar passes your eyes. You don't even take the time to do a last-minute check in the mirror. You feel a little odd, and your clothes give you a strange sensation, but you chalk it up to nervousness and stress from being late, and slip on your sneakers and run out the door, your backpack in hand. You sprint the entire way to campus and barely manage to slide into a desk, panting a bit, when the professor walks in. Grateful that you managed to find a seat in time, you settle in for the class, still feeling like something is off. Trying to get organized before the lecture begins, you absently raise your hand when the professor calls your name to take attendance.
Everything seems normal until someone tosses a folded note on your desk. Curious, you open it and find a message inside: "You're kinda cute. Why not hang out after class today?" You've never exactly been in the popular crowd, so you're not confident that this isn't someone's idea of a joke. Nevertheless, you look around surreptitiously. While everyone else seems to be either bored out of the minds or focused on taking notes, you spy one person grinning in your direction. To your suprise, and slight chagrin, it's a girl. Moreover, she looks like someone who would belong in the popular crowd. You raise an eyebrow at her, wondering if it's really a joke or if she's into girls. You sigh, and turn back to your notes. Either way, it's going to be awkward when you try to explain you don't swing that way.
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Still feeling like your jeans aren't fitting right, you head for the bathroom right after class. No one is in the vicinity, and you enter the women's restroom as usual. Entering a stall without glancing around, you hang your backpack on the hook and proceed to unbutton and unzip your jeans. Which is when you notice the strange bulge in your underwear. Lowering them, you spot something unfamiliar. Too shocked to make a sound, all you can do is stare. Your pants still around your knees, you tear open the stall door and stare at the mirror over the sink facing you. You were never particularly girly, but the face staring back at you is definitely too boyish, almost manly. In fact, as you reach up with one hand, you can feel a slight stubble across your cheeks. Your hand travels down to your chest in disbelief. Your shirt is too flat, and the newfound appendage between your legs confirms your incredulous conclusion: you are now a guy.
Your head in a whirl, since none of this makes sense, you forget the fact that you are in the women's restroom. The sound of someone entering brings you to your senses enough to grab your pants, but you definitely do not expect what happens next.
"Looking for me?" a teasing voice says. You look up to see the girl who was hitting on you in class. "Didn't think you were this bold though," she smirks as you hold up your pants with one hand.
"No.." you stutter, "you don't understand..."
Before you can get out another word, she strides over and pins you against the stall door. "Not that I don't like bold," she continues, as though you never said anything. As one of her hands moves lower, it is too much for you to take, and you snap into fight or flight mode. Sliding back, you reach behind the door and grab your backpack. As she steps back to regain her balance, you make a break for the door. Pants still held up by one hand, your run for a side corridor, which is mercifully empty, and zip up and button your jeans. You then proceed to run full-speed back to your apartment, not caring about your classes that day; the only thought in your head is that something has gone terribly wrong.
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The door safely locked behind you, you stare in your own bathroom mirror at the sight which shocked you a little while earlier. Certain you are losing your mind, you rummage through your bag and pull out your driver's license. Sure enough, a girl's face smiles back at you, and the card clearly has an "F" next to "Sex." You are not certain how to explain this to yourself, let alone to anyone else. You pull your shirt off over your head to get a better look at the changes, blinking as the material passes your face...
...only to see the face from the driver's license looking back at you from the bathroom mirror. Glancing down, you confirm from your chest you are definitely a female, and the bra you put on this morning is still there. Removing your jeans somewhat gingerly, the bulge in your underwear is gone, and pulling them down a bit, you confirm that there is definitely nothing extra there. You sit down on the edge of your bed, not certain what to make of the events of the day. You are certain you changed into a man, but how? The minute you took your t-shirt off, you were definitely a....
That was when a strange idea began to germinate in your mind. What if the t-shirt caused the changes? Would putting on that t-shirt change you into a male? Although you feel silly for even entertaining the thought, you cautiously pick up the blue t-shirt from where you dropped it earlier. Deciding to confirm or deny this theory once and for all, you strip completely. Then, standing naked in front of the mirror, you pull on the blue t-shirt. The strange sensation from this morning returns, and the stubbly face from earlier now looks back at you. Even if the changes to your face were a trick of the light, there is no denying the flat chest you find when you lift the front of the shirt, and especially the male parts between your legs. You can't believe this is happening, but the incident in the campus bathroom seems to confirm that it is reality. Ripping of the shirt, and changing back as the shirt passes over your head, you put on some of your old clothes and head for the shop where you bought the t-shirts. However, when you get there, the "OUT OF BUSINESS" sign in the window and the locked doors seem to laugh in your face. What do you do now?
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Heading back to your apartment, another idea takes hold. Locking the door behind you, you walk over to the bags full of t-shirts which you bought only the day before, and start laying them out on the bed. If the blue one changed you into a guy, what could the other ones do? Is it worth the risk of trying them on? Curious, you decide to...