Not too long after the napkin incident, Jon had another new experience. She had never smelled someone coming before, but as she and Karyn were chatting, she picked up a musky, canine-type scent that grew stronger as she sat noticing it. Before she'd even turned to look, she figured out that it was Sarah, who was coming up to the table with a tray in her hands. "Hi," she said, smiling. "Mind if I join you?"
Jon blinked. "Uh, no," she said. She glanced at Karyn, wondering if that was a shared sentiment; in the old reality, they weren't exactly on good terms, and Karyn harbored a certain amount of resentment toward Sarah, which was what had led to that unintentional wish yesterday. However, if she was feeling that now, she kept it well-hidden; mostly she just looked a bit unsure of herself. Jon supposed that between the cognitive dissonance of knowing the old Sarah and meeting the new one and the unfamiliar shape she now sported, Karyn probably hadn't even fully registered that this was really that Sarah McMillan yet. In any case, she wasn't objecting, and the fox-girl pulled up a chair and sat down on one of the unoccupied sides of the little table.
There was a brief, slightly awkward silence as Sarah tucked into her lunch. Karyn seemed to be simply observing and trying to figure out what to make of it, and Jon was experiencing a little muddling of feelings herself. Part of her had the typical teenaged boy's embarassment at being seen needing help, especially when it was attractive teenaged girls seeing it; she'd never really felt a strong interest in Sarah specifically, but she was arguably the hottest girl in the school, at least when she'd been human, and Jon's subconscious had, despite his rational conclusion that she wasn't a very nice person and also wildly unlikely to return any advances, long ago marked her down in the "try to impress" column. (The equation was probably changed somehow or other by the fact that Sarah was now a very large and unusually human-like canid, but her subconscious hadn't quite gotten the memo yet.) Consequently, having her right there to see Jon having become a sphinx-girl, having been laughed at by the entire class, and having just spent fifteen minutes with her face in a plate of meatloaf was ringing several alarm bells in Jon's head.
On top of this, there was the slight awkwardness of having someone be obviously there for a purpose, but having no indication from them of exactly what it is, and wondering if there's something you should do or say to move things on from here, or if you should just continue waiting. It was pretty obvious that Sarah was simply not saying anything on account of being busy eating, but it was a little awkward all the same. Finally Jon spoke up. "Um, thanks for sticking up for me back there," she said, slightly embarassed.
Sarah looked up from her meatloaf and smiled. "Hey, no problem," she said, flashing a set of sharp, gleaming teeth and lightly tossing back a head of rich russet hair - even as an anthropomorphic animal, she still had the kind of poise and grace that had helped keep her at the top of the ladder in Lakeside High School for years. "I know how it can be, especially when you've only just changed; there always seems to be some jackass around to seize on it. I still remember how tough it was for me when I first changed."
Jon blinked. "When was that?" she asked. "Um, if you don't mind my asking."
The fox-girl chuckled. "Oh, years ago; before we moved here. I was only seven at the time, and one day I just woke up in a different body than I'd gone to sleep in. It's funny; these days I can't even remember what it felt like to not have a muzzle or a tail, but I can remember how weird it felt to me to be this way, and how scared I was when we found out that I wasn't going to change back. And it didn't help that a lot of the kids at my old school picked on me for it; I guess that's why it's a pet peeve of mine now. That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."
Jon frowned slightly. "Is this about what David was saying? Something about a club?"
Sarah shrugged. "Nothing that formal, but yeah. It's just that we've kind of built a little network of long-term transformees here at the school. I'm kind of the unofficial spokeswoman. I just wanted to make sure that you knew that you can come to us if you need help or just support."
"Uh, thanks," Jon said. So she was still a social creature, as well - it was like every strength the old Sarah possessed was still there, just redirected into something positive. She frowned. "Wait, how'd you know I was...long-term?"
The fox-girl looked a bit apologetic. "I overheard your mom talking to you when you got to school. I only heard a little bit before I stopped listening, but it wasn't hard to figure out from the way she was talking. I didn't realize who you were until that business in the hallway, but it was obvious you'd only just changed because you still smell mostly human."
"I wondered about that," the sphinx-girl admitted. Sarah nodded. "It's just one of those things that happens over time - especially for those of us with fur coats."
Jon nodded thoughtfully. This was all pretty bizarre, but it was sort of interesting from a purely academic standpoint. Luckily, it wouldn't have to be any more than tha-
She grimaced as she realized what it was she was feeling. Aw, no! God dammit! Cringing and turning a little red, she looked to Karyn. "I, um," she stammered, "I, uh, have to, you know..." Seeing that the catgirl didn't quite take her meaning, she sighed. "I have to go to the bathroom," she said in a low voice.
Karyn blinked and stared at her. "Um...do you...need help?"
Jon found herself actually having to consider this for a moment, before realizing that there was no way in Hell they were doing that. Having someone carry her books was one thing, but she damn well wasn't going to need a personal-care nurse until she was ninety and decrepit, not if she had any choice in the matter; and Karyn didn't look much more enthusiastic about the prospect than her. "No," she said definitively, as she got down from the bench she was seated on. "No, I'm...fine."
"Fine" was overstating the case, but the sphinx-girl kept her actual thoughts to herself as she padded away towards the restrooms. She pause for a moment after nearly walking into the boys' room, then turned and entered the girls'.
It wasn't really as bad as she was afraid it would be. Fortunately, the existence of the disease had caused certain basic accomodations to become commonplace, and the bathroom had one stall with a Japanese-style floor toilet she could use without having to clamber up onto something. Jon had expected the weirdest thing about this to be using the bathroom as a girl, but it was difficult to say whether that was really weirder than doing so on all fours. In any case, it was over soon enough. The more problematic part was cleaning up afterward; she knew she had to, but she didn't have much idea how to go about it without any hands. It took her a while, but she eventually managed by gripping a wad of toilet paper in between the toes of her forepaw and doubling over to give herself a better reach; if nothing else, she was grateful that her body had more of a catlike flexibility to it.
One further accomodation was the addition of a sink which sat directly on the floor in front of a full-length mirror. Jon briefly wondered if she wasn't the only quadruped at the school, but she supposed these were just standard accomodations, like the wheelchair-access stall - and anyway, they could also be useful if someone became something small, like...hell, she didn't know, a dwarf or something? A non-anthropomorphic animal? (Did that happen, she wondered?) She gave her paw a quick rinse and then took a look in the mirror. She'd seen herself once already, at the doctor's office, but it was still kind of a strange thing to look into a mirror and see something so simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar looking back at her.
Her face was the familiar part; it was different, clearly feminine, but still quite recognizably Jon. (She took a moment to wipe a little bit of meatloaf out of the corner of her mouth.) She looked more like her own sister than Zoe did, really. But that face was connected to a body that was completely alien; a human head on the shoulders of a lioness, with just the hint of a woman's bust visible in the ruff of fur on her chest, and with two great wings folded up against her sides. The amazing thing was that, taken on its own, all of the pieces seemed to fit, rather than looking like a comical jumble of random bits; it was just the part where this was Jon's reflection that was strange.
Jon sighed. It had been an incredibly stressful morning, to be sure, and she wasn't terribly looking forward to the rest of the school day, but at least it was half over. It's all downhill from here, she thought to herself. She felt tense and a little stiff; stress did that to her. Taking a deep breath, she stretched herself out, haunches up and forelegs out, her wings unfurled. It felt good, at least until she noticed herself in the mirror and realized how absurdly feline she looked doing this. Sheepishly, the sphinx-girl straightened up and padded out, back towards the cafeteria. Halfway done, she told herself. All you need to do is get home and this will be over.
Laura Madison stared at the little box. She recognized it, now that she thought about it - she'd seen it among her dad's things when they were going through his estate. She vaguely remembered the executor giving it to Jon at some point, but she couldn't recall what had been in it. She felt a little bad about opening it, but she was only cleaning up Jon's things, that was all. Inside, there was only a small stone (Jon had destroyed the note, just in case.) She took it out and looked it over. It was pretty nondescript, just a reddish, slightly metallic rock; kind of pretty in its way, she supposed, but she doubted that it was important. Neither her son nor her father were mineralogy buffs, and even rock hounds tended to collect more interesting-looking rocks, didn't they? Probably it had just gotten into the box by accident, and her dad had only meant to leave the box to his grandson; it was a nice little piece, made of dark wood with some light decorative carving. Shrugging, she tossed it in the garbage bag along with the shreds of Jon's pajamas and some other miscellaneous trash.
