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Chapter 27 - KENZIE SMASH!
She gave a coy smirk and bumped me on the shoulder. “I’m cool here. So…what did they look like? Like…before and after stuff.”
That was a big question. I glanced over at the yearbook and picked it up. Sophomores. I flipped to about the middle. Diaz, Ramos, Betancourt, and Thompson. Might as well start alphabetically...after skipping Wes.
Naturally, I was wrong about what year Diaz and Ramos were, but I eventually found them. I explained the differences, focusing on their faces. What got smaller, thinner, and softer. Longer hair and how much. She peered intently at each image. Someone lingered over my shoulder, but I hushed till they continued to the teacher’s desk.
Ben’s photo was kinda fun to describe and Summer got a kick out of it because she actually recognized Ben on sight but hadn’t known his name, explaining, “We both had the same class for a while, but I had to drop it because it was like AP and it was totally melting my brain…heh…”
We finished with Wes. I knew exactly what page his picture was on because he signed around his image with fancy writing and left a very nice, personal message in my book. And then some assholes got ahold of my book and put jokes and little fart bubbles all over the fringes. I also stupidly slid mine across the blacktop to a friend, not realizing the cover would get mangled.
But my eyes lingered on the little rectangle with Wes’s black-and-white face. His closed-mouth smile and his hair slicked back formally. He’d never take a photo like that ever again. With a shiver across my neck, I explained the differences. Compared to everyone else, I knew the details so very well. What was gone, what had shifted. How his breasts looked. The shape of his hips. The flow of his hair. Embedded in my head even to this day.
I did my best not to present it pleasantly. Just facts and features. Summer nodded and squinted a little as she traced her finger like she was redrawing his face with an invisible pad and pen. At the same time, I noticed that her own face was being subtly rewritten.
It wasn’t anything too obvious, but the broad, androgynous cut of her jaw was slimmer. Her cheeks looked a little fuller, like when fluid fills your head after a long plane flight. Only much more pronounced. I whispered to tell her, and her eyes widened. Her bag and compact were back at her chair. Leaning over to look in the black glass of the computer CRT was pretty useless. If she left me, then the changes would revert…hopefully. So, I told her to just go get hers and mine.
As expected, there was nothing out of sorts left when she returned with both our bags. Natasha had pestered her for explanations, but she’d just conveyed, “Kenzie needs some help.” I smiled lightly as she inspected herself with disappointment.
I really should’ve been making a note of the time, so I could figure out something consistent. Speaking of time, we’d wasted plenty as Mrs. Horwitz transitioned into the next, much more challenging assignment. Several minutes were eaten up by rapidly jotting down whatever seemed right before she went over some new lined, shape-y thing.
We worked on that, and had just settled in again, when I noted to Summer that the changes were back. This time, she got a good look at them. They were obvious, maybe not to everyone but, to me and her, they stuck out immediately.
“Unholy fart…” she whispered. “It’s like…a real thing…man…” Then she wore a quick smirk and said, “Cool. And reversible?”
I pointed out quickly, “Except for Wes…”
She frowned to herself and inquired, “Was his different?”
Begrudgingly, I explained, “I got really annoyed at him because…from stuff when we were kinda sorta dating and thinking about that stuff…”
Summer gave a slow, easy nod and murmured, “Oh yeah, I remember. So…it’s like some sort of Incredible Hulk thing? If you get angry, then it blasts people? Otherwise, it just leaks on them?”
That was actually a pretty sharp assessment, but I’d gotten upset at Aceves without anything happening. But had it been the same? In the same moment, as she described it, I could feel a rush of horror about what if people thought that and it spread around that getting me angry turned boys into girls. I clenched my lips and maintained, “I have no idea. I mean, I got mad at other boys too and nothing happened. Probably a one-time deal.”
Summer gave me a quiet look and muttered, “I guess. Really weird though. Huh…I kinda look a little more like…my niece…” She coughed and her voice pitched up. It was still her voice and it didn’t feel softer or anything, but the ambiguity had lessened. I could still imagine it as a boy’s voice, but then I like to think I have a decent imagination. It would just have to be a younger boy’s voice.
That was an interesting notion, which I immediately squashed out of fear. No thinking about random stuff which might do unexpected things. Instead, I questioned her, “So, you know The Incredible Hulk?”
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She smirked in her usual way with a stark-white flash of her upper teeth and said, “Sorta. It’s on channel five at night on reruns and stuff. But all I know is he gets mad and turns into a green monster.”
To be fair, it would be years before I knew more than that either. My dad was a fan of Lou Ferrigno, so I’d seen the live-action series from two decades ago (at that time), but only in passing. Most of the reruns were on those upper channels which didn’t come in on our old cable boxes.
What did come in were the paid channels. Among them was Showtime, which aired a smattering of interesting, cheaply-made genre works. I really liked the new version of The Outer Limits. There was a gender-changing episode of The Hunger which aired around a year ago from then. I’d missed it (but I shouldn’t have been watching that show anyway). That would’ve been weird, if it aired the same weekend as this thing started for me.
But the important one was Stargate SG-1. I’d mentioned it to Mrs. Horwitz last year, soon after school started. I’d taped all the first season episodes on VHS. I soon became her “Stargate Buddy”. Each Monday, I’d trade tapes with the newest episode. It worked out that way for a little while.
But, increasingly, I forgot to see episodes, missed the times, or taped over the wrong ones. I’d never been particularly fastidious (wince for Wes words there) but a lot of those “mistakes” were ones I made consciously.
These were all things I could’ve mentioned to Summer, but I just told her, “Cool. At least I’m not bright green.”
She giggled in a way which sounded really weird with her altered voice and said, “Yeah. That would be weird. Green’s cool though. Remember when Tasha went green?”
Yeah, it was one of her better color choices. I passed this along to Summer, who I was still watching for further changes. I tried not to think of giving her green hair. She continued, “For Spirit Week, I’m thinking of going green. Then a little white war paint…” She passed her fingers just under her eyes with a sweep. “And my black jacket.”
All I could really offer was that sounded like a cool plan. She stretched out her plump, broad eyebrows and told me, “I think you should give it a try. Or we could do it for Spirit Week together.”
Summer also thought I’d look nice with shorter hair that didn’t go down to my shoulders. I smiled and shrugged a bit with all her ideas. It was nice to think about but, as I relayed, “Might be fun, but mom would go nuclear about all that.”
She snorted and shrugged. “My step-mom goes nuclear all the time, but she gets over it. Think about it.” I conceded a little nod.
Since Halloween wasn’t far off, we chatted a little about that. Summer wanted to play a zombie and had some old clothes she could rip up. It was quite a ways from her clown outfit last year. None of my costumes were worth recalling.
Eventually, Mrs. Horwitz stopped being busy enough to notice we were just chatting and not doing the work. She flashed us a look and said, “Girls…I let you sit together for a reason…”
I offered a nervous half-smile, but Summer smirked and reported, “Just keeping her spirits up…” She spoke with her altered voice, which the teacher immediately recognized with narrowed eyes. Then she seemed to notice the other, subtle changes.
She asked Summer if she was alright, but she played it off with a laugh. Reaching into my bag, I gave her the episode tapes to trade. This only distracted her briefly as she stared at us and admitted, “Wow…so something is happening.”
Naturally, some nosy little...person in the front had to catch what she said and bring it to the attention of the whole class by proclaiming, “What’s happening, Mrs. H?” How he said it was enough to elicit a groan I kept to myself.
Mrs. Horwitz deflected, her voice rising appropriately, “What’s happening is that you and everyone else need to get to question forty as soon as possible because we’re going over this, then moving on to new things to cover. Chop chop!”
The guy gave grandiose claims about how far along he was but she scowled at him doubtfully, testing, “So, if I check your work, then I’ll see the questions done with full proofs?”
His nod was not as certain as his words, but he gave a smile. Mrs. Horwitz sighed and said she would be going around and checking everyone soon.
The soft feeling of a normal day. Relaxed. Calm. Warm. Then, at a quiet moment of peace, I was struck by a notion. I had no idea where it came from or why. But I imagined a wave emerging from me.
A pulse of energy washing over everything. Invisible but palpable.
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Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist