Victor Hills High School was a relic of the 70s, of the era when architects figured that huge, hulking, brown brick expanses were the wave of the future. It looked normal to Keisha Casey, of course; it was just as it had been yesterday and every other day.
But it was completely changed on the inside. As she stepped out, she noticed that her dress had changed into a T-shirt with a skirt, a combo unusual to her but apparently normal for every other girl. The skirt had pockets, too, something she appreciated. Her high heels had been replaced with stylish flats, while her hair was shorter than she'd had it in a long time.
On the way toward her first period history class, Keisha saw a familiar face "” a familiar face, that is, in a completely unfamiliar guise. It was Jason Maas, the big offensive lineman. Now Jason was the slimmest boy she'd ever seen. His weight had dropped in half, enough to make him fit into a small size dress, complete with high heels. Makeup adorned his face, more than she'd seen on any boy. His hair flowed down to his waist, a boulevard of long, curly locks in an attractive shade of brown.
She filed into class, the first one there, still processing just what she had seen. This can't be...
