Mystery Lake

[18] Exit

Roxanne's legs remained shaky as she helped Jake tidy up and organize everything. Whenever she felt like she needed it, she would lean against him or grab the wall for support. She cheerfully suggested that she fold everything neatly, something Jess had reserved as her job back at the dorms because... Well, while Joel had exuberance and strength, he couldn't figure this stuff out.

Looking down at the items to be consolidated, Roxanne concentrated her determination, poised her small hands, and grabbed the garments to perform just as professionally as her former girlfriend. A few minutes in, it was clear that nothing so far had granted the poor girl a coordination boost. She pouted and laid everything out as neatly as possible for Jake to complete properly.

Watching Jake, same as Jess, flip, fold, and stack together all the clothes they just changed out of into a perfectly neat pile literally rivaled magic. She pantomimed the movements, but it didn't help. Joel had asked her to demonstrate it several times, and he focused every brain cell on the task but soon found frustration creeping in before retiring to the kitchen to cook up something savory.

Despite this minor setback, Roxanne still remained upbeat and briskly beaming, aiming her cheer at the door that led back to the rest of their group. She wanted the others to see her dress and share in the energy now surging through her veins.

She'd never expected Jake's vivacious... A big, quality Jess word—kielbasa and more—to activate so many feelings and possibilities, like a big bang of self-explosion and creation. But she was a new girl for it. She didn't want this feeling to go away. Her dress felt and looked fantastic. Layla would probably love it the most, along with the cheer in her voice and the spring in her step, as long as she didn't take a tumble.

When they were all packed up and out the shower door, Roxanne took her shower receipt, came to terms with the final price, and electronically signed out the room as finished and to be cleaned before its next use. Walking down the tile floor was not the easiest affair, as the hallway only had a handrail at certain points, not across the full length like in a hospital. But Roxanne trudged her plucky way to the lounge, where she took care of everything.

Jake swiftly shadowed her, but she was able to make it on her own. Her voice practically bounced with the cadence of each sentence. Several of the truckers were still watching sports, but they actually turned away from the game to get a curious gander behind them at Roxanne going about her business. She didn't intend to attract their attention, nor did she give a nod of acknowledgment in their direction. But they paid attention to her anyway.

The clean-shaven trucker seated in the corner raised his head slightly and commented, "You seem mighty cheery, young lady. Hope you're having a good one so far."

"Oh yes!" Roxanne answered brightly, with her hands folded together in front of her, "My day has been a roller coaster. You wouldn't believe how it started. Disagreements with friends. Being detained at a ranger station. Problems where we first tried to have breakfast. But a heavenly shower to wash away all that junk has put me right back to rights, like nothing ever happened."

The trucker seated next to the other, who had a thick, blond mustache and a dirty goatee, chimed in, "Well shoot, I was thinking about skipping a shower myself. But you just about sold me on it better'n a commercial, sweetheart."

An inkling passed through Roxanne: these men were about a hair's breadth away from outright flirting with her. If not for Jake and all his broad muscles looming nearby, waiting for her to finish, she suspected they might be bolder than they were. It was a surreal feeling to process, rippling the waters of her mind like a cast stone.

Joel had run across an odd assortment of flirtations in his time, stretching back to junior high, when curious eyes first began to pay attention to his muscular potential through puberty. Some guys would stay in the locker room for suspiciously long periods without changing. They would talk about their uncles or some house up north in the wilderness. Joel never made the connection that they might be dropping hints. Even the girls who wanted to sit on his lap or squeeze his big, strong arms felt like silly friend things. Looking back, it was embarrassing, and why Joel didn't want Barry to make the same mistakes, especially at his age.

Just to make sure she hadn't accidentally picked out a dress that was secretly see-through, she adjusted herself and scoped out the material as casually as possible. The sports bra she'd slipped on underneath wasn't even visible, though a certain rounded bulkiness hinted at its presence, but nothing naughty. Same went for down below as she brushed out whatever wrinkles from the cloth clinging to her remaining after-shower dampness.

Just because she was cheerful didn't mean she was willing to stick around. She politely told them to have a good afternoon and then slipped back out. No need to listen to whatever their response might be. Despite the sense of a little lesson about containing her exuberance and not swinging it around like a blazing beam of light, Roxanne continued to express her sentiment. Fortunately, they didn't remain in one place long enough for it to be a problem yet.

Swerving away from getting lost in the forest of trinkets and trashy snacks, Roxanne slipped over to the other four of her group. They all looked like they could use a shower of their own, which she highly recommended, though probably not for the price they paid. If only everyone could share the same shower.

Barry and Joel had seen enough of each other in male mode that showering no longer prompted poor Barry to worry Joel might do something juvenile, like a locker room bully. Miranda was likely to speculate a whole bunch about the nature, character, and possibilities of showering naked, carrying on an entire life within, before she ever touched a drop of water. Not that Roxanne came at it any quicker until Jake gave her the proper push and then some.

Despite her effervescent, carefree, and perky mood, the thought of Ross or Alyssa as a shower companion immediately hit Roxanne with a down-dip in sentiment. Part of Roxanne wholeheartedly wanted to fix this shit and extend an olive branch to the creepy girl-turned-off-brand vampire boy. It wasn't necessary.

They were just two presences passing by, pushed together by circumstance, splashed with consequences, begging for forgiveness, hoping for a new start, and fearing the full force of the world around them. She assumed the only reason Ross hadn't gotten more irritated with her lately was because Miranda had gotten him laid; the boy was still clinging to some code of feminism with Roxanne's new face, and they had bigger problems.

Walking out from the aisles of packed, puffy bag snacks wasn't at all like stepping out of a changing room, onto a catwalk, or anything dramatic like that. But Roxanne still felt her heart pounding on the bones of her chest, as if everything beneath the humble, soft orbs was a prison and it just had to escape. Her legs still felt wobbly, but she kept her eyes open for anything to lean on, and Jake was just a few steps behind.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The four were waiting for them. Ross was still facing the window, nibbling on the crust of a single-slice pizza addition to his empty plate of noodles. The sunny blonde duo still had their seats cutely pushed together like they were playing a game of musical chairs where they both got to win. Miranda had her cell phone out and propped up against the table. From the amount of eye rubbing and eyebrow wiggling, Roxanne wondered if the Wi-Fi wasn't the best. She was also the first to notice the two of them returning and look up.

Miranda's reaction involved more eye action, a flurry of blinks, and glances at everyone around her to make sure that she hadn't stumbled at the wrong spot and into an alternate universe. Roxanne let the bright feelings flow through her features, and Miranda scrutinized them for the seams of a prank mask.

A perceptive tact, considering that Roxanne wasn't entirely sure that this wasn't some sort of prank, especially one she was playing on herself. Her male ego had to be around somewhere, and he wouldn't like this. What if she decided to call herself a version of Roxy? Would that be more of a feminine push or an androgynous acquiescence? Her girl self had all sorts of fancy words stored in the depths of her brain, just waiting to be luxuriously fanned out. She couldn't decide if 'Roxy' was cuter, but at least it was shorter.

She waved lightly to the others, barely managing to keep her exuberant smile from flying off her face as she spoke, "Everyone ready to go? Feeling good, all full?"

Ross quickly turned away from the big windows to glance over at Roxy. His reaction was surprisingly muted, as if his full perception hadn't connected yet, or he made the assumption that this girl standing next to him had to be some truck stop hospitality worker or that Layla had suddenly teleported several feet to utter happy words. Each possibility was equally likely.

When it dawned on him that something else was happening, his jaw tightened with protective ferocity, expecting the worst. He received a cheerful, unexpected hug from Roxy, wrapped sideways around his prominent, pointy shoulders, and a tiny peck on his cheek. Jake's jaw dropped.

Roxy's voice was as chipper and boisterous as a dancing drink of water. "Ross, I know we've had our differences, but I just want you to know that you're my friend, and I hope your new life takes a turn for the better."

Then she swiftly turned to Miranda and remarked, "Mira! Taste can vary..." She had a whole lot of words bouncing around in her head like balls in a lottery, but despite her exuberance to be open, honest, and cheerful, part of her still understood that saying all the words, even if only the six of them were actually listening, wasn't a good idea.

So instead of outright naming and detailing about Jake's fluids, she looked back at Jake, smiled, and then licked her lips with a tilt of her head. Despite that very limited expression, not only did Miranda's eyes immediately widen in recognition, but Chiara's jaw dropped, Layla leaned forward, and Jake's eyes bugged out as a blush exploded across his cheeks. Roxy wanted to have more to say to the others, but all she could think to say to Chiara was the same encouragement she always wanted for her, especially with Layla by her side.

She was about to squeeze a lot of warm feelings together when Ross swung around sharply and shot back angrily, "What the hell are you doing? What's with this farce?"

Clearly, Ross was expecting Roxy to respond with a snark that would expose whatever this ruse was. Instead, Roxy flinched back as if Ross had physically struck her. The smile on her face wavered a little and faded. Meekly, she replied, "I'm sorry. No farce. I just wanted to encourage you."

Ross was completely taken aback. It was like expecting to shove a nosy great Dane and finding you instead punched a friendly puppy. He was without even soft words, except to ask gently, "Is that… Joel or someone else? What happened in there?"

Recovering her smile and energy, Roxy replied, "I'm Joel. That's me! But this is the real me. A bit different than before, but it's still me. Me! But I'm also Roxy now, or the full Roxanne, if you prefer, but I think Roxy is cuter!"

Ross looked to an uncertain Jake for some sort of explanation. Carefully, Jake framed the events in the shower: "We had a long chat about important emotional matters, and then we spent some private time together getting to know one another in our current bodies. Roxy... has a lot of strong feelings that can affect her emotionally, and it took some time for her to deal with the full effects of the shower. It's easy to get overheated about things. All of us have our own little quirks now. But this is the person I love, and I stand by them. She's not jerking you around; she's speaking to you from her heart." Jake wrapped his arms around Roxy's waist, where the dress band sat, and she leaned against him thoughtfully, her eyes closed.

Ross didn't know what to say or do. He just sat there in stunned silence. Layla spoke up without shouting, "You're very pretty, Miss Griffin. You look great with a big smile on your face!" Layla also smiled brightly, with no reservations. It was as if her infectious happiness filled the room with joy.

Roxy thanked her warmly, and they all started to get ready to go back to the car. From over by the order line, they heard a gruff, unexpected voice respond, "She's mighty pretty; I agree."

The man who spoke up was a bearded man with a dark salt-and-pepper fringe, wearing a fair blue t-shirt and a navy blue trucker cap. His eyes swept over the group as they stood up with their belongings, but his gaze lingered on Roxanne the longest.

"Thank you, sir. Have a great day!" She offered back.

The trucker didn't leave it at that, even though Roxanne had moved on. He continued to talk, "I saw you when you showed up and all the times you've been over by the lounge. You look good. You look real good. Can I ask you some questions? Are you free this evening, or perhaps tomorrow? I have an extra sleeping bunk in my cab I can share."

Roxy frowned and shook her head. "I think you have the wrong idea about me, sir. I'm with my boyfriend and our friends, and we have to be on our way. Good day to you." Jake stepped forward protectively, and Ross stretched up in his seat.

"Plenty of room back there. We'd take real good care of you," he smiled with his top teeth.

"No," Jake answered sharply. "Leave my girlfriend alone. We're going now." Roxy agreed with Jake, and the two of them left, hand in hand. The others followed close behind.

Roxy snuggled Jake. Despite his tough look and strong answer, she could feel his heart thumping fast and loudly in his chest. To make matters worse, they noticed that the trucker was casually following after the group, as if stalking them.

He didn't do anything overtly threatening or intimidating. Roxy told her flourishing optimistic side that they were just reading too much into a folksy response. Not everything out in the countryside was a threat, but her legs twitched, much like her eye had, as if they still weren't quite ready to support her. There was nothing to worry about, but she felt a rush of relief when she was back in the middle seat of the car, even though the creepy guy was still looming in the parking lot.