Jon was only halfway done with his salad by the time the bell rang for the end of Lunch. Then again, he always remembered being a light eater, though his memories had no actual basis in fact. Similarly, Saralyne was did not so much as blink at the fact that she had eaten three servings of her meal, as well as the remnants of Nicole and Karyn's meals. The old Sarah would gag at such proportions, and make some snide remark about obesity at the mention of someone eating so much. Now she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't had such a voracious appetite.
"So tell me, Saralyne, what's your next class?" Jon asked.
Saralyne stopped, trying to recall. "Ah reckon ah have Art next," she said.
"Really, now? What room?"
"Uh..." Saralyne pulled out a piece of paper from her jean pockets. Unfolding it, she glanced at her schedule. "Room A17, ah do believe."
"No shite? So do I! Tally ho then, we'll go together. Its a decent ways orf, and I need to make a stop before we go there."
The two departed, bidding Nicole and Karyn farewell and heading out towards their destination. As they left the cafeteria, Jon's skin began to slowly darken, until by their first turn it was a luminous olive tone, all blemishes fading into nothing.
The second turn, however, was marked not by a stage in Jon's oddly unnoticed changes but by a rather tense encounter. Jon had just stepped into the language wing when he ran directly into the broad chest of Biff Meadows. Jon stepped back, raising the eyebrow not obscured by his cascade of now raven black hair.
"Really, Biff? You want to get your fanny kicked twice today?" he asked the jock, who now dwarfed Jon quite noticeably.
"Now it's different, bitch," Biff shot back, his ego apparently the only part of him unharmed from his previous fight. Jon could see the scratch marks he had left on the bully's face that morning.
"Yessuh, now Jon's got me," Saralyne said, stepping forward and socking Biff in the nose. He staggered, and she took advantage of his disorientation to grab his head and slam it into her knee. For the second time that day Biff crumpled into a heap on the hall floor, and Saralyne pressed the heel of her cowboy boot into his windpipe. "Whut in tarnation was yer name thar, beef o' something now?" she asked him.
"Biff," Jon corrected, as Biff himself seemed to be having trouble with speaking thanks to the boot heel pressing down on his neck.
"Alright then, Biff it is. So listen hear, Biff. ah may have jest shown up this week, but it don't take long t' recognize yer type, most likely thanks t'th' smell, ah reckon. Yer a bully, a scumbag who thinks he's th' shit on account o' that he looks better o' kin throw a leather ball farther than th' rest. Yo' bastards prey on ennyone yo' kin jest t'git off yer kicks, an' thass precisely th' so't of thin' ah cain't abide by. So git this an' git this clear. Ev'ry time I see yo' pick on someone, ah's a-gonna retch into thet emppy haid of yours an' rip out a tooth, an' agin until yo' stop o' yo' run outta teeth. Yo' got thet?" Biff gave a squeak, and Saralyne released him. Jon guided his new friend away from the gathering crowd, swinging into a nearby bathroom.
"Get a little violent there, didn't you?" he asked with a slight grin.
"Ah'm so'ry, ah jest kin't stan' assholes like him. Ah jest got carried away."
"Don't be. Biff deserves far worse than that. I'm just a mite worried you might poach me job. By and by, where did you learn to fight like that? You trained summat?
Saralyne blinked, then gave a good natured laugh, "Who, me? No, no, no. Ah jest got three older brothers," she said, ignoring the fact that this morning she had been an only child. "Hey, does yo' not have campus security ennywhar? ah mean, yo' reckon someone'd bust up fights in th' hallway."
Jon shook his head,"No, we lost those in the budget cuts a few years back. That's why Biff could get away with such overt bullying in the first place. Now excuse me, I simply must go change."
Jon swung into the stall, hastily changing and stepping back out of the stall and looking himself in the mirror. His tank top now dipped in a bit to reveal his collarbone and sternum, and it cut off halfway down his belly button. His training bra was now a full on bra, though Jon noticed the fact that he utterly failed to fill it out no more than he did the strangeness of a boy wearing a bra. His lower undergarments were now undeniably panties, though Jon could think of no reason why to deny wearing them. They weren't something scandalous, like a thong or g string, after all, right? Jon's shoes now had a small heel to them, no more than an inch, but still very much a heel.
The most striking different, however, was Jon's shorts, which had been replaced this time by something else entirely. The black skirt cut off right above the knees, so was actually a bit less revealing than the shorts, but then again, it was a skirt. Not that Jon seemed to see it as odd in anyway, nor did Saralyne when she spotted his new outfit.
As was before, Jon found a pair of earrings in the bag, this time a pair of small golden hoops. He used them to replace the studs, but then paused. It seemed a waste to just return the old earrings. So instead Jon placed them back in his ears, behind the original piercings with the new earrings, and two more holes suddenly materialized to allow for them.
Studying himself, Jon's vision briefly blurred, though it quickly returned so he thought nothing of it, just as he thought nothing of his eyes, which were now almond shaped with deep brown irises. Jon was, however, dissatisfied with a few other parts of his face. Reaching into the bag he had found in the stall, Jon pulled out a cosmetic kit and went to work on his face. Nothing too drastic, though but a few hours ago Jon would probably would have figured makeup at all to be a bit drastic for him. By the time he was done, Jon's lip gloss had been replaced by a dark red lipstick, and he had masterfully applied dark mascara to his eyelashes and a smoky eyeliner to his eyelids.
"So, how do I look?" Jon asked, turning to Sarlyne.
"Ah'm not th' best judge, but I'd say purdy fine. So tell me, Madison, yo' menshuned at lunch thet yo' yo'seff were from Readin', but whar is yer parents from? Yo' sartinly doesn't look like th' typical Brit, appearance wise."
Jon laughed before answering. "No, I suppose not. Well, whilst my da is a true blooded Englishman all the way back to the Saxons, me mum is originally from Mumbai, and immigrated to Britain after meeting my da whilst studying there."
"Ah see. Wal alright, didn't mean t' pry, jest curious. Now ah reckon if we don't helter-skelter we is a-gonna be late fo' class."
Jon glanced at the bathroom clock. "Oh my. You couldn't be more right." grabbing his bag, which was had been replaced by something suspiciously resembling a purse, Jon hustled out the door after Saralyne.
