Chapter II: 'Cause I Slay

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Part 1

We stepped out of therapy like a legion, all fired-up, and in formation. After some friendly hugs and high-fives, we scattered to the four winds, back to our separate lives. While fishing my BMW's keys from the handbag, thinking about grabbing lunch before studying my finance course, a flash of pink hair over a gaudy maroon leopard-skin print skirt, black-and-white striped thigh-high socks, and Doc Martins caught my eye. I stopped and turned, my face lighting up as I hustled, quick as I could in the low-heeled dress shoes which I still wasn't used to, to intercept the emo chick.

Some notes in a folder absorbed her attention, so I said in a loud voice, "Hey, Circe."

She stopped, spinning to see me as she tucked the folder under her arm. With hesitation in her voice, she said, "Hi...?"

I dangled my keys. "Heading out for lunch, wanna grab a bite, on me?"

"I can't, I have, do I know —" Circe's sentence crashed to a halt, and I sensed her confusion: her hazel eyes peering up at me, at once registering and not registering, and her pale, freckled face tilting to the side like one of those funny AF chipmunks from that old Bugs Bunny TV show. You know, the 'apple-core, who's your friend' ones, who then pelt Daffy Duck in the eyes with an apple core?

Anyway, Circe studied me for two or three shakes, and then she breathed out with an audible 'pffffffffffffffffffffft,' her chest deflating with exaggerated exasperation. "I'm, like reeeeeal sorry because you look familiar but I don't remember your name."

Crestfallen, I realized I'd forgotten about my transformation, so I said, "Ulysses."

Her brow furled, and then her eyes popped open as if exploding with excitement. "You mean Fenton's brother?"

My face burned, and I shrugged, embarrassed. "Yeah."

"No way. Did they put you up to this?" Circe's expression grew mock-serious. "You've got to be their sister fucking with me. I mean, you look like him, but...."

"Well, that's because I am him, er, uhm, or her? Or, I mean, I'm Ulysses."

"Really?" She narrowed her eyes, pressed tight her lips, the skepticism dripping off of her. "And you're not pranking me?"

"No, I swear."

"So, you're the guy I messed around with homecoming weekend at that Omega hell-hole?"

Exasperated, I threw up my hands. "Yes. It's me. Honest injun,"

She snarled. "Hmmm... 'honest injun,' the casual racism of a typical Greekaszoid... guess you may be him. But, I'm not sure you're him because you, you look so, so, so...."

I helped her out, saying, "So female?"

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A smile sparked her eyes, "No, moron. I was thinking you're so short, but now that you mention it...."

"Short?" I let out a sharp, shocked snort.

Circe laughed a boisterous belly-laugh and, stuffing twenty feet of gusto into her five-foot-nothing frame, punched my arm as if to burn off excess excitement. "Don't be so gullible. But you're a woman. That's weird." She crossed her left arm across her chest, resting her right elbow on it, chin in her hand. "So say I believe you, what the hell happened?"

"Dunno. Sometime that night, I turned into... this..." I spread my arms, indicating my feminine form.

Her stance relaxed, and she rocked back on the heels of her combat boots. "Now, say I believe you. You're telling me no surgery, no hormone replacement therapy, you just woke up a girl?"

"Yup. I just woke up, and poof, I'm a girl. Like David Freaking Copperfield snapped his fingers."

"Like magic." Circe arched her eyebrows, her face calming as if thinking. "The whole nine?"

I crossed my arms in front of me, screwed up my face, and nodded. "Ovaries, vagina, the whole nine."

"No kidding," she said, biting her lip, serious. Then, I'm pretty sure a scared look shot across her face, but I'm not positive. It could just be a trick of my memory. But I would swear she blew me off by looking down at her teal and purple Swatch watch. "Anyway, I have to go. I have a counseling session."

"Hope you get what you need. I know it's working for me."

She tilted her head, again resembling an inquisitive chipmunk. "Working?"

"My therapy."

"Oh." She smiled, throwing up a hand as if pushing me away. "It's not for me, I'm the therapist. Well, sort of, more like the 'therapist in training,' who will have my graduate advisor hovering over my shoulder, making sure I don't fudge up."

"Ah, that's right, you're a psych grad student."

Circe nodded. "Clinical Ph.D. candidate." She turned to go.

My eyes popped open, and I leaned back. impressed. "PhD... But, wait, I thought you were only two years older than Fenton."

She shrugged, her face a wry grin. "I spent my last two years of high school at community college, so came to State a few credits shy of being a junior."

"Holy shit, I always knew you were smart, but... that's in-freaking-credible."

She shook her head. "Nah. My mother was a teacher, and she helped. A lot. And my father's probably the smartest man I know. Just lucky, I suppose."

"You say so, but it sounds impressive to me."

Her expression went wan, and her eyes drew tight. "I do. Say so, I mean. And I REALLY have to go Ulysses."

I waved as she turned, walking away. "Good luck, shrink some heads."

She turned back, returning the wave, her expression somber. "Oh, and I have a suggestion. Call Omega house, have them look in the medicine cabinet. I know some guys leave it in there sometimes when they're distracted. And you were smashed, so maybe it's there."

I slumped, perplexed. "The medicine cabinet?"

She smiled, wide and pixie-like. "You know, your 'Detachable Penis?' Remember the song from back in the day?"

My eyes went round as I remembered the song and I laughed, releasing days of tension, her humor poking a hole in my self-absorption. And she bopped away, a flash of pink, maroon, and black. And a tight, smoking little bod, waving behind her back. I felt light, and yet nostalgic since Circe was still cool, and had given me my last blow-job... perhaps the last I'd ever get?

I didn't know.

But regardless, between Circe playing pixie spark-plug and the group prodding me on, I felt ready to attack the world with, or without, my detachable penis.