Jim had doubts about a secret admirer. It was probably a trick. Who liked him? Who cared about him. Who even noticed him?
The only reason someone would take notice would be if they were planning on having fun at his expense. Even so, he looked over the clothes. Cargo pants and a black t-shirt. Bright abstract art on the shirt that was meant to look like something that a graffiti artist might make. A flannel shirt. He wasn't making sense of it until he found the skate pads.
This was exactly the kind of outfit a skate boarder would wear. Not a rich one, but not a poser either.
Mass produced, maybe even marketed to the demographic, but not niche enough to be expensive. The sort of thing you'd get if you liked the look but didn't have money to burn and cared more about skating than perfecting the skater look.
Jim looked around quickly. Who knew that he wanted to be a skater? Everyone would laugh at him if he even tried. He could never pull off the look, and he couldn't actually skate either. He didn't even have a board of his own.
Still...
It was a fantasy-- well part of a fantasy.
He took the bundle of clothes to a nearby restroom, single stalled. He didn't want anyone seeing when he tried them on. That's all he'd do. Try them on. Then he'd take them back off, change into his normal clothes, and leave school.
His body tingled with excitement as he pulled on the cargo pants, his own jeans discarded in a lump. The t-shirt came next, his own thrown on top of his pants. The baggy flannel shirt --it was probably a size too large for him-- he tied around his waist. Skate pads were last, of course.
He modeled in the look in front of the restroom mirror. And he felt sad. What he really wanted was to be a skater _girl_. This was only part of it, and somehow being part way there was worse than being nowhere near there.
But just before he turned around in despair, he realized that he might be able to pull of a girl's look.
Sure, he'd be a flat chested girl, but there was ... something. He detected a hint of femininity in the mirror. How had he not seen it before?
Jim struck a few poses and with each he felt more confident and more feminine. Hell, if he posed just like so it almost looked like he had--
He had breasts! Small ones. He wasn't even sure if they were big enough to be A-cups, but they were there. They definitely hadn't been when he'd been half naked as he changed into the shirt.
How could he have breasts? It wasn't possible. And yet...
Jim noticed more changes. The curve of his jaw, the cut of his hair.
What about--? Jims eyes went wide.
She looked down to confirm what a quick check had told her. She was a she.
Her underwear had changed too. It was now simple white bikini style panties. And she realized she was wearing a bra.
Thoughts rushed through her head: How was this possible? What would she tell mom? What would the other kids in school think?
But she tossed them aside. At the moment she didn't care. It was a dream come true. She'd face whatever problems there were when she came to them.
She did wonder if there might be more changes to come.
None did. She was a relatively plain girl. No one would ever notice her in a crowd, but she looked good enough, in her own opinion, and now that she wasn't hiding who she wanted to be, and her acne had disappeared, maybe she'd be able to attract a nice girl. New muscles reacted to that thought. Girls. She was going to be a very happy lesbian, she was sure of it.
She stepped out of the restroom without even glancing at her old clothes. If she had looked she'd have noticed that they'd disappeared.
When she walked away from the restroom someone behind her asked, "Forget your board?"
She turned around to see Angela, a girl in her grade. Angela had her own skate board attached to her backpack, and was holding out a black one with hot pink detailing.
"I've never seen that before," Jim stammered.
"True," Angela said. "But it's yours now."
"Wait ..." Jim said. "You know..."
"Guess I'm not your _secret_ admirer anymore," Angela said as though she'd been caught doing something wrong. "But I called it right, yeah?"
"What?"
Angela gestured to Jim's entire body, "You like?"
"I like," Jim said. She couldn't keep from grinning. She liked very much.
"Then let's get out of here," Angela told Jim, and led her down the hall. Angela got out her skateboard as she walked and soon was skating down the hall.
Jim paused to pick up her backpack, homework wouldn't take a holiday no matter how strange things got, hopped on her own, brand new, board, and followed Angela out of the school. A teacher yelled, "No skating in school!" after them, but it hardly mattered. The teacher didn't know them. There would be no punishment.
Jim noticed that her new body had much better balance and coordination. She wouldn't be a pro skater, but she could probably be sure no one would laugh at her. Now she just needed a new name.