(Author's Note: I planned this with chickenchaos in the new IRC chat, and wanted to give due credit for the input.)
At what would have been the end of the school day, when Whitelace was still a public school, Linda Madison picked up her youngest son, ten year old Mikey, at his elementary school and drove over to pick up her two other children.
She didn't normally do that, but they were all going to the mall to do some shopping and grab dinner out. As she got closer to the school, she suddely stopped. Or rather, the road did, rather suddenly. There was a tall wall with trees in front of it blocking her path. "What?" She muttered, confused.
She backed up and turned the next corner, and after some experimentation, found a road that led to an iron gate and a sign for the Whitelace Academy for Gifted Young Ladies.
The street signs were familiar to her, but she'd never seen this wall, or heard of Whitelace Academy. She'd lived in this neighborhood a long time, and the school was within walking distance of her house. What was going on?
The gates opened before Linda could use the intercom to request admission, and she drove in, looking around in wonder. It was like a different world. She followed the road to a parking lot and parked her car, and she and her son got out.
She looked around in wonder. It was odd though. She should be freaking out, but instead, she was just very confused. "Are you coming?" She heard Mikey say.
She turned around, and saw the boy already starting toward the building. She chased after him a few paces, and called his name, telling him to stop. He turned and she gaped. He was visibly changing before her eyes. His hair grew out to his shoulders, and he started to visibly age.
"What's wrong?" Mikey asked, voice shifting...but not getting deeper, it sounded more...As Linda watched, Mikey hit puberty...but it was the wrong one. At least wrong for a boy. She could see the outline of breasts starting to form under his shirt, which seemed to fit despite the fact he'd gained several inches of height.
"Look at you..." She said, dumbfounded.
Mikey continued to age, and was starting to leave his teens. By this time, her was starting to seem more appropriate. "Are you nervous?" She asked.
"What?"
"Nervous. That's all right," she said, softly. "But you'll be fine."
Linda was starting to feel dizzy and overwhelmed. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that when she opened them, things would be back to normal.
They weren't, however. When she reopened her eyes, it was only worse. Any semblance of Mikey being a boy had vanished. The visage before him was neither male nor child. She was looking up at a full grown mature woman, around thirty-four years of age, with red shoulder length hair, looking at her with concern. "Are you all right?"
"I don't think so," she replied.
"Well, let me get you back to your room and you can lie down," she said. She urged Linda along, and Linda suddenly realized that the woman once her son was actually bigger than she was.
Mikey urged her toward one of the buildings, pausing by the door to punch in a keycode. Then, pausing near one of the first doors on the hallway, she paused. "I forgot my keys. Wait right here and don't move. I'll be back in a moment."
She headed down the hall into the changing room adjacent to the staff lounge, opening a locker and ducked into a changing stall to get dressed into a business suit with matching skirt and heels. Then she paused by the mirror to apply her makeup, looking at herself with satisfaction. Many of her co-workers were attractive girls in their twenties, like she'd been when she first started here. But she still was a red-haired bombshell who looked at least five years younger than her actual age. Or so she told herself.
She grabbed a purse out of the locker. Inside, she found the building master key, and returned to find Linda staring at herself in a nearby hall mirror. She'd discovered she was starting to change as well.
She looked down at the girl. Since she'd picked the girl up at the airport and driven her to the campus, she'd been acting strangely. Was she self-conscious? She'd seen the girl's test scores. She was very bright, and would do well here, perhaps even blossom. And she could use blossoming.
Michelle Moran been working here for over a decade now. It was the perfect job for her, and she had enough flexibility to be home for her own family when they needed her.
