The two youthening women paused to consider their reflections in the mirror, their minds not quite able to realize the changes that had already happened to their bodies...
Gillian looked over at Bethany. "What's with the hat?" She asked.
"It's called style," Bethany found herself saying. Her skin was starting to smooth and darken. She turned to the other woman and paused. "You walk around dressed like that, and you make fun of my hat?"
"I'm...not supposed to look like this,' Gillian said. "These...aren't my clothes."
"Well, whose clothes are they?" Bethany said, with something of a smirk. Wait...these aren't my clothes either, she suddenly remembered, why am I giving her a hard time?
It was a question Gillian was asking herself as well, why she was being given a hard time. Part of her seemed strangely used to it, and the other part was growing fainter.
Gillian's response was fortunately, saved by the bell.
"Shit," Bethany said. Her next class, and she had stopped questioning that, was on the other side of the building. "Got to dash." She took one more look at Gillian. She wondered how she'd missed seeing this girl before. Admittedly, she didn't know everyone at school, but she would have remembered someone dressed like that, wouldn't she?"
She darted out the door toward her class.
"The hat still looks stupid," Gillian muttered.
