Getting Into Character

“So, this is it,” Jefferson sighs, exhaling a wistful breath from his lungs. “I’m stuck like this for good.”

“Isn’t a sigh already a ‘wistful breath?’ Why the repetition?”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Allen says, slyly snaking his arm around Jefferson’s shoulder and pulling him close. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to go back, even without the Scroll.”

Jefferson shakes his head sadly. “No, I don’t think I will. That Scroll was my last chance. The Witch told me so.”

“You shouldn’t trust the Witch, Jeff,” Allen objects. “After all, isn’t she the one who tricked you into the transformation in the first place?”

“Allen has a point here. Why is Jeff believing the Witch’s words, just like that?”

“Yeah, she is. But somehow, I feel like I can trust her on this. I don’t think she would lie.”

“She absolutely would.”

“And besides,” Jefferson continues, trying and failing to swallow the lump in her throat–

“Her throat? Isn’t it a bit early for a pronoun switch?”

–while at the same time locking eyes with Allen; the sparkling rays of the morning sun shine on them, making them shimmer like precious gemstones hidden in a dark cave.

“Oh fucking hell, what the fuck is going on with this prose here?”

“And besides,” Jefferson repeats, “I’m not even sure I want to change back. Not any more.”

Allen’s perfect eyebrows rise towards the sky. “What d’you mean, friend? Didn’t we go on this whole quest to find a way for you to change back in the first place?” He gestures at the world around them. “I mean, this isn’t even our world. You chased the Witch through the portal.”

“And you followed me.”

“I did. Of course I did,” Allen says. “I couldn’t well leave my best friend alone.”

Jefferson blushes. “See, this is what I love about you. You’re a really good friend, and you’re thoughtful, and smart, and strong, and clever, and handsome, and you make me feel like a girl should feel.”

“Okay, no. Stop. I object. Cease this. ‘Like a girl should feel?’ Seriously? Fucking for real?”

Allen’s eyebrows rise up even more–

“And they take off from his forehead, up through the morning sky, departing this world in a sparkle of light, never to be seen again…”

–and his manly face is coloured by surprise, his strong jaw quivering a bit. “Jeff. Wait. You don’t mean…?”

Jefferson nods. “I do. This whole adventure, you’ve treated me like a female–

“I have objections to the use of ‘female’ here.”

–and this made me realise I’m actually one. And I’m in love with you, Allen. I’ve loved you ever since I’ve been changed.”

“Okay, no. Someone changing genders doesn’t alter their orientation. Didn’t Jeff have a fiancée back in the non-magical world? What about her? And don’t give me that look, I do know bisexual people exist, I’m just saying the switch was awfully quick. Jeff is changed into a girl and is immediately attracted to his best friend, whom he’d never even given a side glance to before? Come the fuck on.”

Jefferson’s words make Allen’s heart race. At that moment, he realises he loves her too. “I love you too, Jeff. I have ever since you changed.”

“COME THE FUCK ON.”

Jefferson’s eyes are suddenly filled with tears, which he blinks away. His eyes fix on Allen’s perfect lips, and she draws close–

“Bit of pronoun confusion here.”

–until their soft pillows make contact with each other–

“Soft pillows???”

–and their tongues snake into each other’s mouths, meeting halfway, tangling together, in a torrid, passionful kiss, which makes them forget themselves, forget everything–

“Gag. Retch.”

–until they finally come up for air, and dive immediately deeply into another kiss, and another, and another, until they’re finally spent, and gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. Jefferson reaches upwards with his hands and rips Allen’s shirt open, exposing his hairy, manly chest, and Allen does the same. Jefferson’s bountiful breasts quiver, his nipples puckering and standing at attention like two nails in the freezing morning air, and they start kissing again, their hands roaming over each other’s perfect bodies, moved by passion alone, until they can’t help it any more. Allen slips off his trousers–

-----

“Okay, no. No, absolutely not. We cannot put this rubbish to print, we’re a serious publication, not some pulp magazine for horny teenage girls.”

I tilted my head to the side and looked at my editor (and friend) Juliet. We’d known each other for a few years: I knew she wasn’t the kind of person to mince words, and I always took her writing advice to heart. “Why do you call it rubbish? What’s wrong with it?”

“Wh–” she sputtered. “What’s wrong with it? Let me see, where even to begin?” She took a deep breath, and then launched into a rant. “Let’s start with the fact that your prose is all over the place. Your grammar is good, I’ll give you that, but you go off on endless tangents, and your descriptions are absolutely atrocious. I’ve heard about purple prose, but holy shit, yours is ultraviolet. Seriously, Kyle.”

I winced. “Okay, point taken. It’s just… I focused so much on the characterisation that I wasn’t able to do my usual second pass. I spent so long thinking about how the characters would react to the situation that when I actually started writing the story, it was way too late.”

Juliet sighed. “And to think we gave you several months. You had ample time to meet your deadline.”

“I did meet the deadline. I just couldn’t stop it as it passed,” I replied, defensively. “I love deadlines. They make a nice whooshing sound when they fly by.”

“No witty quotes, you!” my editor said, slapping me behind the head.

“Ow,” I complained, massaging the spot her hand had connected with.

“Moving on,” she continued. “The characterisation is the same as your prose: all over the place. Seriously, how can you even think that Jeff, a week and a half after having been turned into a woman, would be all over his best friend like that? You don’t go from being a completely heterosexual man to making sweet eyes to a…” She grabbed my draft, flipped a few pages, and read aloud, “…a ‘tall, blonde hunk of a man, with deep blue eyes like sapphires.’ Ugh.”

“…Maybe it’s the effect of the hormones?” I asked.

Juliet rolled up the draft, and slapped me upside the head with it. “Nope. Hormones don’t make someone take complete leave of their senses. When they change, you might find yourself attracted to someone unexpected…”

“See?”

She ignored me, and went on, “…but you’re in full control of your actions all the while. Trust me, I know something about that.”

I sighed, and deflated into my armchair. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

I stopped. “It’s just?” Juliet asked.

I sighed again. “It’s just that I have trouble characterising women. Men are easy, they’re brash, and aggressive, and incurious–”

“You’re not like that. At all.”

I glanced at my editor for a moment, saw her smiling kindly, but forged on. “Still. I find them easy to write. Women, on the other hand? Their way of thinking is just… so alien.”

Juliet raised a finger in warning. “First of all, Jeff is not really a woman, he’s just been turned into one. And second, God help me, if you say something along the lines of ‘women are from Venus, men are from Mars,’ I will hit you.”

“…Haven’t you been hitting me all this time?”

“I’ll hit you again. Harder.”

“Okay,” I said. “But yeah, I mean. What I wanted to say is…” I paused, trying to formulate the following sentence in a way she wouldn’t find offensive. “I mean, I’m a man. Cisgender and heterosexual. I have absolutely no insight on how women think. There’s hormones and biology to take into account, true…” I saw the capital-L Look Juliet was giving me, and I frowned. “It is true! Don’t even pretend it isn’t! After all, women are so emotional. And I mean that in a good way: they’re always so happy, so bubbly, but they’re also not afraid to seem sad. Meanwhile, my emotions are so dull. Sometimes I feel I am, like… a passenger in my own body. An outside observer, just watching myself go through the motions.”

Juliet looked at me, her eyes narrowing, but didn’t say anything.

“But also,” I continued, “there’s societal pressure to take into account. After all, society treats women very differently than it does men.”

“…That’s true,” Juliet nodded.

“I mean, men have all these expectations placed on them. There are specific ways they have to be, specific ways they have to behave, or they’ll be considered… well… unmanly, if you’ll forgive the term.” Juliet nodded again, and I went on, “On the other hand, women can just… be whatever. Behave how they like, without any pressure. They can just be happy.”

“Let me tell you, that is absolutely not the case,” Juliet said. “There are lots of expectations society places on women. How they must dress, how they must behave. And yes, what emotions they’re allowed to show.” She smiled. “Often there’s more societal pressure on women than on men. I know this for a fact, I’ve been on both sides of the barricade after all.”

I sighed again. “Alright, I believe you. After all, you’re the expert when it comes to gender stuff.” I paused for a moment. “But still, sometimes I wish I could… like, be a girl. Just be free of all this pressure.” I smiled. “Not to mention, it would help me with characterisation. My female characters would be much more believable.”

Juliet leaned back in her chair and smirked. “So what, are you planning on dressing like a girl and going out, seeing how the world treats you? And try to think of yourself as a girl all the time you’re out like that?”

I blinked, and stared at her. “Yeah, as if…” I began with a smile; but then the smile froze on my lips.

…Actually, why not? Of all the ideas my editor had ever had – and she was such a smart and talented person, she’d had plenty of excellent ideas – that had been the best one yet. Why shouldn’t I dress up like a girl and go out?

It would help me with characterisation. With finding out how women actually think and behave when they’re out there in the world, interacting with other people. It was actually a brilliant idea.

There was only one sticking point: I did not look like a girl. At all.

In fact, every time I’d tried dressing up in women’s clothing (not that many, honest!) I’d immediately become depressed as soon as I saw myself in the mirror.

Juliet had had a very good idea, but…

I sighed. “It would never work.”

Juliet blinked: she seemed honestly surprised at my words. “What will never work?” she asked. “You dressing as a woman? Are you seriously considering that?”

“I did, for a moment. But I mean, I look… Well.” I gestured down at myself. “I could never pass for a girl. To make me look like one would be a fool’s errand. So that would taint the whole experience.”

Juliet stared at me long and hard; so long and hard, in fact, that I found myself squirming under her stare.

“I think we can do something about that,” she said, finally.

My eyebrows rose towards the ceiling. “Really?”

“Really,” she nodded. “I think I have a plan. But you have to go along with it. Are you willing to do that?”

“If it’ll help me become a better writer? Yes,” I replied. “Yes, I’ll go along with everything.”

Juliet smirked – I’d never seen her smirk like that, she seemed to be amused and, at the same time, plotting something. “Perfect,” she said. “Hold on a sec.”

She reached into her handbag, and drew out her cellphone; she dialled a number, and put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Sis, it’s me,” she said, after a moment. “I’m fine, how are you? Good, good. Listen, do you have an opening tomorrow? Like, in the morning? We could meet for brunch, I’ve discovered a place that makes great omelettes. It’s just amazing how skilled they are with eggs. Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly it. Yeah, that time is fine. Great. Thank you so much! See you tomorrow, Sis.”

She ended the call, and nodded to herself, before looking up to me. “You’re free tomorrow, right? This will probably take the whole day.”

“I mean… yeah? I’m a writer, I set my own schedule. You know that.”

“I was just checking, maybe you had a date or something.”

I frowned – the last time I’d gone on a date with a girl had been years before, and it had been such a disaster I’d sworn off dating for good – but didn’t say anything.

“But if you’re free, then we are going on a date,” Juliet continued. “You and me.”

I blinked. “Excuse me, a date?”

“Yep.”

“How is going on a date with you supposed to help me with characterisation? For female characters, especially?” I asked.

Juliet smirked again, and that time the smirk was a bit menacing. Just a tad. “Oh, you’ll see. Just remember, you said you would do anything. And I’m going to hold you at your word.”

I looked at her carefully. “…okay,” I said.

She met my gaze, and her smirk disappeared: she turned serious. “No, sorry, I want a clear answer here. What I’m planning for tomorrow might be… unexpected. So I wanted to know if you really want to do it. And I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”

I looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” Juliet said. “See you tomorrow, then. I’ll send you the address. Now go home and get some rest, tomorrow will be intense.”

That sounded like a dismissal, and it was: she stood up from her chair, gave me a brief hug, shooed me out of her office, before I could properly ask her what exactly she was planning for the next day.

-----

My conversation with Juliet had brought back many memories, most of them unwanted; and no matter how hard I tried to shoo them away, they insistently came back and made my mind their home. As a result, I had a restless, almost sleepless night, the first such night in several years – I thought I’d gotten over certain… stuff, but apparently not.

Therefore, the next morning, I barely heard the alarm clock when it rang to rouse me from my sleep: I had a quick breakfast, then half-heartedly combed my short hair, put on a button-up shirt and my best pair of jeans (Juliet had said we would be going on a date, and I wanted to look my best – not that my best amounted to much, really), and, yawning deeply, I climbed onto the bus which would take me into town.

I stepped out of the bus near the address Juliet had sent me, and walked the half block to it. It turned out to be… a salon?

Puzzled, I pulled out my phone, and checked that I had the correct address: I did. I sent Juliet a text: Hey, I’m here. Where are you?

Great! was the reply. Go right in, and ask for Laura. I’ll be along in a while.

Even more puzzled than before, I walked into the salon, and was met at the door by a girl. “Hi, may I help you?” she asked.

“Yeah, my name is Kyle, I was told to ask for Laura?” I replied. “Though I don’t really know what this is about, to be honest.”

The girl smirked. “Oh, so it’s a surprise? Well, I think you won’t be disappointed. Go right through that door,” she said, pointing, “and you’ll find Laura right there. Have fun!”

“Thank you…?” I replied; the girl’s cagey behaviour had nothing if not intensified my curiosity. I followed her directions, and walked through the door. A woman was in the next room, sitting calmly on a couch, reading a magazine. “Hello, are you Laura? I’m…”

“Kyle,” she said, smiling predatorially and standing up to shake my hand. “So good to see you, sweetie. We have everything ready for you.”

“Everything…?”

“Yep, everything,” she replied. “So if you’ll sit down in that chair, we’ll get right to it.”

She pointed to a hairdresser’s chair, and I gave her a puzzled look. “So I’m getting a haircut?”

“Not just a haircut. You’re getting everything done today.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

I hesitated. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure–”

Laura pouted. “But Juliet said you’d do anything,” she complained. “And anything means everything. Are you going back on your word, love?”

I blinked, taken completely off-guard. “No, I–”

“And you trust Juliet’s judgement, right?”

I hesitated for a moment, but then answered, “Yes.”

“Great! So if you’ll just sit down,” Laura said, guiding me to the chair and gently pushing me down into it, “we can get started.” She clapped her hands, and a few other people, men and women alike, appeared as if from thin air. “Tell me, do you drink?” she asked.

I looked at her. “Well, occasionally, but–”

“Here you go, then,” she said, placing a tall glass filled with an amber-coloured liquid on the table beside my chair.

“What’s this?” I asked; I picked up the glass and gave it a sniff – the contents smelled decidedly alcoholic.

“Iced tea,” she replied. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to, but it’ll help you relax.”

I took a sip; it tasted good, and the alcohol, while certainly present, wasn’t too overpowering. “Alright,” I replied, and took a longer drink.

“Perfect,” she said. “Now lie back, close your eyes, and relax. You can even sleep if you want, it won’t really make a difference.” She paused. “In fact, it will make our job easier, so if you feel you’re drifting off, don’t resist. Just let it happen.”

“Okay,” I said.

I took another drink from my glass, laid back, closed my eyes, and relaxed.

I was already tired from the sleepless night I’d had, and the alcohol helped quite a bit.

-----

“Hey, wake up,” I heard someone say; as if from a great distance, I felt someone gently shake my shoulder. “Come on, sleepyhead, wake up. We’re done.”

I groggily opened one eye a fraction of a millimetre, and looked around until my gaze met Laura’s face. “Done?” I asked; I yawned deeply.

She nodded. “Yes, done. Or almost. Come on, we need you to get up for this last part,” she said; she offered me her hand, and pulled me to my feet.

“What have you done?” I asked; I felt something – hair? – brush my neck, and instinctively started to turn towards the mirror, but Laura loudly cleared her throat, and I turned back towards her.

“No peeking, love,” she chided me. “Not until we’re fully done. Now come on, I need your cooperation for this.”

“What do I need to do?” I asked.

“Strip.”

I looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I think you know what we’re doing here, correct?” she asked.

I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Juliet the previous day, and I nodded.

“That includes clothes. Clothes include… Well, underwear. That, you will need to put on on your own.”

I gave her another sceptical look, but nodded. “Okay.”

I quickly removed my shirt and jeans, then while Laura and their assistants turned around – and resisting the temptation to use the opening to take a peek in the mirror – I put on the panties, bras, and tights she gave me. “Done,” I said, and she turned back around.

“Great,” she said. “Come on, this is the last part. Step into this.”

She motioned to two of her assistants, who were holding up a dress – a very nice, knee-length blue dress – which was unzipped; when I hesitated, she looked at me expectantly.

I hesitated some more, and Laura’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do this, dear,” she said, reaching over and touching me softly on the shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to. If you don’t feel up for it, we can just undo what we’ve done so far, and forget about this.” She paused. “Do you want to do this?”

I looked at the dress, and gulped. Might as well, right? After all, this was certainly not the first time I’d worn a dress.

“Yes,” I said, and Laura nodded and smiled warmly.

I carefully stepped into the dress, and the three of them just as carefully pulled the zipper all the way up.

“Okay, shoes now, and then we’re done,” Laura said: she motioned to a pair of shoes – which, mercifully, only had a half-inch heel – and I stepped into them.

Getting dressed up as a girl gave me a weird feeling. Somehow, I started to feel a bit sick to my stomach, remembering each and every time I’d worn an item of girl’s clothing and looked in the mirror, only for my reflection to dispel the illusion.

“We’re done now, aren’t we?” I asked.

Laura nodded. “We’re done.”

“Then get me out of this ridiculous outfit.”

She smiled. “Oh, it’s not ridiculous at all,” she said.

I shook my head. “Don’t lie to me. I’m sure I look ugly. You can dress up a scarecrow, but he’ll never look like a princess.”

“You’re not ugly, love,” Laura said, shaking her head in turn. “Wanna see?”

Without waiting for my answer, she grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face the mirror.

And my breath caught.

Instead of myself, the person I saw reflected in the mirror was a girl.

She was wearing the same dress as I was, and her hair fell to just below her shoulders; she sported a stunned expression on her carefully made-up face.

“I…” I said, lifting a hand to touch my face, only to have it lightly slapped away mid-movement by Laura.

“No touching,” she said. “You’ll smudge your make-up.”

“I…” I repeated, then gulped; the girl in the mirror mirrored my movement. “Is that me?”

Laura smiled widely. “It is. Isn’t it incredible what a little bit of make-up can do? The hair’s a wig, by the way – extensions are too costly for this kind of one-time thing, but we can do them next time if you want. So, what do you say? Do you like what you see?” Laura asked.

Yes. For the first time in my life, yes. Yes, I do.

I kept staring at the mirror, speechless, my brain failing to connect to my mouth and form my thoughts into coherent words.

“Judging by her silence, I think Miss Kylie likes it. What do you say, Jules?”

“I say you’ve done an excellent job, Laura. As always,” said a new, but familiar, voice. “My date looks absolutely stunning.”

I tore my eyes from the mirror, and looked to my right: framed by the door was…

Was that Juliet?

The first thing I noticed was that her glasses were gone: she was probably wearing contacts, I realised, but the absence of her usual black, heavy frames made her face look… sharper. Her shoulder-length hair wasn’t hanging down straight like I’d always seen her wear, but was instead slicked back with just enough hair gel.

And then I noticed her clothes: instead of the casual jeans-and-sweater combo Juliet always wore, Jules was wearing a suit. It was perfectly tailored, and conformed nicely to the slim shape of her body: her breasts were just barely visible in the white shirt she was sporting below her dark blue suit jacket.

She looked incredible.

“So what do you say?” Jules asked. “Do you like what you see in the mirror?”

I just stood there, staring at her, transfixed. After a few moments, she smirked, walked over to me, and looked closely at my face, gazing deeply into my eyes.

“Do you like… me?” she asked, in a breathy voice.

Oh my God. Yes.

I made a noise. It was very much not a dignified noise: maybe a whimper, probably a squeak. And it made Jules’ smirk grow wider.

“Oh, so you do approve, I see,” she said. “I can already tell we’re going to have a wonderful time today.”

“…Today?” I forced out, in a tiny voice.

“Of course,” she replied. “We’re going on a date, remember?” She stepped back and bowed deeply, swinging her arm around. “I’ve already brought the car around. Your chariot awaits, milady. Are you ready?”

I looked at her for a moment, then smiled. “Yes,” I said.

“Have fun, you two,” Laura said, waving goodbye as Jules straightened up, put an arm around my waist, and steered me towards the exit.

Jules reciprocated the wave. “Thanks, Sis. Remember to add this to the endless list of things I will forever be grateful to you for.”

“Are you planning to start repaying that?” Laura asked, mirth in her voice; in response, Jules just shrugged, and kept walking while also keeping her gentle but firm grip around my waist. She waved at the girl at the front door as we passed her, and we emerged onto the street. Parked in front of the salon was…

“Is that a Subaru?” I found myself wondering aloud.

“You have a good eye. It’s a Vivio, to be precise.” Jules let go of me, and stepped over to the car. “She may be a bit past her prime, but this distinguished old lady has lots of miles and love left in her,” she said, slapping the roof. Then, lowering her voice, she added: “Also, I can’t really afford to replace her, so I hope she has lots of miles and love left in her.”

Somehow, I found myself giggling.

“Come on, Kylie, climb aboard,” Jules said, opening the passenger-side door. “Our date begins now.”

“Kylie?” I said. “That’s not my name.”

“It is for today,” Jules replied. “You wanted to try out what it’s like to be a girl, didn’t you? That includes using a girl’s name.” She paused. “Unless you don’t want to. I won’t force you to do anything you want.”

I nodded.

“So what do you say?” Jules continued. “Can I keep calling you Kylie? Yes or no?”

I looked at her for a moment, and then nodded again. “Yes.”

Jules smiled. “Good girl.”

I suddenly had to look away from her, and I swallowed. Hard. It took me a couple moments to recover.

“Though I do have to apologise,” Jules said. “We kinda pressured you into getting dressed up, didn’t we?”

I shook my head, and sat down inside the car. “No harm done. In retrospect, while Laura was a bit pushy, I could’ve said no and walked away at any time. But this is really a big surprise: I never would’ve thought you’d know someone who was capable of…” I motioned down at myself.

Jules closed the passenger’s door for me, then walked around the car, waiting until she’d gotten into the driver’s seat before answering.

“Laura does excellent work, I’ve known her for years. She’s never let me down. You know the expression ‘putting lipstick on a pig?’ Well, she can turn pigs into princesses. She has a gift.” She paused, and then reached over and caressed my cheek. “Of course, she didn’t have to do much in your case. You were already very pretty,” she said.

I tried really hard to ignore the shiver her words sent down my spine. “So where are we going?” I asked, changing the subject of the conversation.

“To have lunch, to begin with,” Jules replied; a glance at the car’s dashboard told me it was a bit past one – I hadn’t realised it was quite this late, my transformation had apparently taken some time. “I’ve made a reservation at a nice restaurant which is absolutely not a diner and I will be offended if you imply otherwise. Then we’ll decide where to go next.”

I giggled. “Okay then, my dashing knight. Let’s be off.”

Wait, where had that sentence come from? Writer’s brain, I guess.

-----

“This is seriously good,” I said, after taking another bite of my Eggs Benedict (which Jules had ordered for me). “I seriously didn’t expect eggs to taste this good.”

Jules chewed her mouthful of omelette and swallowed. “I knew you would like it,” she replied.

“This is still a diner, though,” I said, smiling cheekily.

“Well, I am offended now,” she said with a smirk. “I guess you’ll have to make it up to me somehow.”

I cut another piece off my food and speared it with my fork. “Somehow how, exactly?”

Her smirk widened. “I’ve made a reservation at a local spa. They have this wonderful hot tub, we can get in together.”

I froze, my food halfway between my plate and my mouth. I looked up at Jules: she was looking expectantly at me. “Uh. Um–” I began.

“Ha, got ya!” she said, leaning back into her chair. “I’m just kidding, being naked together – or almost naked, whatever the case may be – is a bit premature, don’t you think?”

I stared at her for a moment, then put my food into my mouth, and nodded as I chewed.

“Don’t worry, I have something else planned. Several something elses, like I said, in case my first choices don’t meet your fancy. But maybe you want to be surprised?”

I smiled at her. “Today has already been full of surprises, so you know what? Yes. Surprise me.”

“Good girl,” she said mellifluously, smiling back at me and making me blush. “We’ll get to it post-haste, right after dessert.”

“Dessert?” I asked, as she looked over my shoulder and waved to someone; within seconds, a waitress plonked a tall glass full of ice cream, syrup, and strawberries next to me.

“Here ya go, hun,” she said. “Enjoy.” She turned on her heel, and left us alone once again.

I looked at the glass. “Jules, what’s this?”

“It’s dessert,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “A sundae. Ever had one?”

“...No, actually,” I said. “I mean, sundaes are a bit… girly, aren’t they? Men don’t eat sundaes.”

Jules’ irresistible grin found her way on her lips again. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re a girl for the day, aren’t you? Come on, finish up your eggs, and then dig in.”

For the day. I felt a small pang in my heart at that – I’d been really enjoying myself, so I still hadn’t thought about having to go back to being my drab old self. Still, I managed to shake myself: I ate the last bit of egg that was left on my plate, and then attacked the sundae.

It tasted really good, sweet and mellow at the same time.

-----

“Okay, you can open your eyes,” Jules said.

After leaving the diner, we’d gotten back into her car. We drove quite a ways away, and she had me close my eyes for the last stretch; then she’d led me from the car for a bit, almost five minutes of walking, holding my hand gently but firmly – her grip was somehow very reassuring. And then, finally, we were there.

I opened my eyes and gasped in surprise: we were in what seemed to be a park, but there were trees all around, along with ponds and gravel footpaths, which snaked in each and every direction. It was spring, so nature was in full bloom, and there were flowers everywhere. I’d never seen such a marvellous sight.

“Do you like it, Kylie?” Jules said. “This was originally built as a private estate, but when the owner died he willed it to the local university, which restored it and opened it to the public. It’s called ‘Le Paradis,’ which is French for…”

“…Paradise,” I said, finishing her sentence. “Jules, this is beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” she said. “I used to come here all the time with my family when I was a kid; I grew up minutes from here. And I’d sworn that when I found someone I really liked, I would bring them here, and let them see this place.”

I turned to Jules, locking eyes with her. “‘Someone I really liked?’ You mean… me?”

She nodded in confirmation. “Of course I mean you,” she replied, and then held out her hand to me. “Come on, there are many places in this park which aren’t widely known. Want to see them?”

I nodded. “Yes,” I said, and grabbed her hand and let her lead me off.

Over the course of the next few hours, we made several circuits of the park: Jules pointed out several trees and plants to me, explaining what they were and where they were originally from – apparently the park was a bit atypical, full of unexpected flora, since the original owner had many exotic trees brought over from abroad and planted in his private garden.

Jules also showed me several small buildings in the park, including an observation tower off to the side of a pond the size of a small lake, which was supposedly closed to the public… except that she’d been there so many times she knew there was a loose brick beside the back door which allowed her to reach in with her hand and slide the latch back. The view from up there was simply breathtaking, and we watched the sunset together, sitting side-by-side, until the sun dipped below the horizon and night started falling.

I almost wished we could stay like that forever.

But unfortunately, all things must come to an end.

“Come on, it’s getting late,” Jules said. “Let’s get you back home.”

We were silent in the car on the way back; I almost dreaded the moment she would drop me off at my doorstep, because it would mean the wonderful day we’d spent together was over.

And then, finally, we arrived. Jules slowed the car to a stop in front of my apartment, got out, and opened the door for me.

My smile was brittle as I accepted the hand she was offering me, climbed out of the car, and walked to the front door.

“Well, here we are,” Jules said. “Did you enjoy our date?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

She smiled. “And do you think you have enough material to be able to properly characterise girls in your writing?”

“Yes,” I nodded again.

“Good,” she said. “Then my job here is done, and I’m going to take my leave… after I give you this.”

With a flourish, she pulled out a small packet, as if from nowhere, and offered it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Oh, just a small gift to commemorate the occasion.”

I looked at her for a moment, and then carefully unwrapped the item, to reveal…

“Jules this… this is my favourite book.”

“It is,” she nodded. “A first edition.”

I looked up at her in surprise.

“A signed first edition,” she added. “It had been in my collection for a while – I like the author too, you see – but I think you’ll enjoy it more.”

I gulped. I felt my eyes getting moist.

“Jules, I… I can’t accept this,” I said.

She tilted her head to the side, looked at me curiously. “Why not?”

“I… Because. Because this… This isn’t real. This isn’t me,” I said, motioning down at myself. Then I pointed to the two of us. “This isn’t real. We’re not really dating. Today… Today was wonderful, a dream, almost, but… But it has to end.”

Jules smiled kindly at me, reached out, and touched my cheek; when she pulled back her hand, it was wet, and I was startled to notice I was crying.

“Has to end?” Jules said. “What do you mean, Kylie? Why does it have to end?”

“Because we’re not really dating. We’re not really in love with each other. And I’m not really a girl.”

Jules was still smiling her kind smile. “Aren’t you?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve seen your reaction when you looked at yourself in the mirror. I’ve seen you enjoy yourself today on our date. I’m seeing your tears at thinking that you have to stop doing… Well, stop being a girl. And I’m telling you, we don’t have to stop, not if you don’t want to.”

I just looked at her, as she paused and took a deep breath.

“Do you want this to stop, Kylie?” she asked.

Tearfully, I shook my head, and Jules nodded.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I was saving that place to show to someone I really liked,” she continued. “Because I like you, Kylie. I really like you. Today we… took things a bit fast, but there’s no reason we can’t just keep doing this. Maybe smaller things, like coffee, or something. And then build from there.” She paused. “So what do you say? Do you want to keep going?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” I replied.

Jules smiled. “Good girl,” she said; she grabbed my right hand, brought it to her lips, and kissed it deeply.

Then she seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“Um, just checking, I want to make sure. Because we haven’t really said it out loud, and I don’t want to be a jerk by assuming. You’re a girl, right?”

Somehow, I found myself laughing out loud. “Yes,” I said. “Yes I am.”

-----

Allen gazes at the sunset, and sighs deeply. “So it’s over then?” he asks. “We’ve finally found the spell which will turn you back.”

“We did,” Jefferson nods. “All I need to do is open this Scroll, read the words on it, and I’ll go back to being a man.”

“Good,” Allen says, nodding back. “Good, that’s… good.”

“Do you want me to?” Jeff asks.

“Ooh, this is interesting.”

The question takes Allen by surprise. “What? What do you mean? Didn’t we come all this way to find this?”

“Indeed,” Jeff says. “But… well.” A sigh. “It’s been a long road, and you’ve been by my side all the while and… To be completely honest…”

“…to be honest…?” Allen prompts, when Jeff doesn’t continue.

Another sigh. “To be honest, I kinda figured out I like you? Yes, that way,” Jeff clarifies, seeing the look in Allen’s eyes. “I mean, I already liked you before, as a friend. A good friend. But being near you, every waking moment – and every sleeping moment, too, I just… I dunno.”

Jeff looks up into Allen’s eyes. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Allen.”

“But… But what about Monica?” Allen protests. “Aren’t you two engaged?”

Jeff sighs yet again. “Yes, we are. But I realised I… don’t really like her? Not as much as I like you. Not the way I like you, Allen. I thought I was in love with her, but that was before I realised what love really is.” Jeff pauses. “I’m not looking forward to when I’ll have to tell her this.”

“I like this. I really like this. Ties everything up in a neat bow.”

Allen nods. “Yes, I understand.”

“And how do you feel about me?” Jeff asks.

“Huh? What? I…”

A smirk. “Don’t you dare act so surprised. I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes. I’ve noticed how dejected you’ve been over the past few days as our objective grew closer and closer, how you reacted every time I’ve mentioned that I was going back to being a man. So let me ask you again, Allen. And I want a straight answer: how do you feel about me?”

Allen gulps. He hadn’t expected being put on the spot like this. But Jeff wants a straight answer, so a straight answer is what Allen gives.

“I love you, Jeff. I’ve loved you since we were in school together.”

Jeff’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “That long?”

Allen nods. “Yes, that long. I’ve never mentioned it, because I thought you were a straight guy, but… Yeah. I love you. And if I have to be completely honest, I love you even more as a girl. I don’t know why. I don’t understand it.”

Jeff nods. “Okay then. So, do you want me to turn back into a man?”

“Why are you leaving the choice up to me?” Allen asks. “Don’t you want to go back to being your original gender?”

Jeff shrugs. “To be honest? No, I don’t really care about it that much. I chased after the Witch because, somehow, I felt like I was supposed to want to go back to being a man, but you know what? This is fine. I’m okay with it either way. I was okay with being a man, and I’m okay with being a girl. Either is good.”

“Cis by default, eh? I like this.”

“I… see?” Allen says, but from his tone of voice it’s clear he doesn’t quite get it.

“So, again,” Jeff continues. “Do you want me to turn back or not?”

Allen stares at Jeff for a long time, with newfound knowledge, as if he’s seeing his best friend for the first time all over again. “Let me think about it,” he says, finally.

“Okay,” Jeff says with a smile. “Don’t take too long, though.”

-----

“This is really good,” Jules said. “A fitting ending to the story, I think we can print it. Send it over to me by e-mail, so I can do some editing, but I think it’ll be very minor.”

“Okay,” I replied. “I’m looking forward to your input. Don’t be too rough on me, though.”

“I’ll be as rough as I want, my dear Kylie. You should know how rough I can be by now,” Jules said, with a smirk.

I looked away from her, blushing furiously, and mumbled something under my breath.

“Oh, by the way,” she added. “We’re still on for our date tomorrow, right?”

I nodded, still not looking at her.

“Great! I’ve spent lots of time planning it out; there’s even a surprise at the end. Are you looking forward to it?”

I blushed a bit harder, but I still nodded again. “Yes.”