Turn 9 of 19

Taylor arrives, freezes at the sight of her. “Jess… what the fuck?” She tries to explain, voice already a little lower and smoother. Shows him the leftover clothes and how her body changed. Both of them stare at her thick reflection. She still sounds mostly like Jess.

A knock sounded at the door, sharp and sudden. Jess jumped, her new full lips parting in surprise.

“Jess? You okay?” Taylor’s voice came through the thin door, warm and familiar.

She took a deep breath. "It's open," she called, her voice already lower, smoother, than it had been that morning. She turned toward the door, the red stilettos clicking softly against the stained carpet.

Taylor pushed the door open—and froze.

“What the fuck… Jess?”

She tried to explain, the words tumbling out in a rush, gesturing helplessly at the too-tight snakeskin skirt, the stretchy red top.

"I don’t know, Taylor, I swear I don’t know, I just put on this stuff that was left here and—" she broke off, seeing his eyes widening as he took in her new curves, her impossible dark skin, her full lips and long lashes. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears—thicker, richer, like honey.

"Look, look at these clothes, these were all here, and when I put them on I just... changed. Just look at me!"

She turned back to the mirror, holding up one of the cheap synthetic wigs. Taylor stared, speechless, at their reflections—at the thick, dark-skinned woman in the mirror, at the pale, shocked face of the boy beside her. Jess's reflection stared back, curves straining against the tight red fabric, lips parted slightly. She still sounded mostly like Jess. But the girl in the mirror didn't.