"Hey Sam, just got home. Tell mom I'm ok. Tired and I think I caught a cold, so I can't talk, just text." Sent Leslie.
"Leslie! Finally! The other night, when you slept in my room, did you happen to see a weird looking medallion? I can't find it."
Leslie thought that was a fast and weird reply. "Teenage girls, I suppose" he thought.
"No, I haven't seen anything, but I can double check later."
"Please, can you check NOW???"
Leslie didn't feel like looking for some trinket, he had more pressing things to worry about, so he decided to ignore her text... and the next 5 she sent... and the missed calls...
No, he had to worry about school the next day. He didn't have any clothes to fit him anymore, just that dreadful dress. He didn't have underwear, he didn't have shoes, didn't have anything.
"Just in case it takes a while to get back, I should get some clothes" he thought. He didn't even think about it becoming permanent, no, he couldn't bear the thought of it being permanent.
So he grabbed some money, jumped into his car, and went to a nearby target.
It was awkward at the start, be had seen military action, goddammit, he could deal with some shopping. Asking a nice woman for tips, he was able to buy some clothes that fit for 2 or 3 days. "Enough to last me for a whole week if I don't mind repeating outfits" he thought.
Back at his apartment, he finally checked his messages. Most from Samantha, begging him to look for the medallion and to let her know if he could find it. One message caught his attention though, from his school, asking him to go to a room for a special orientation with a tutor. He had been assigned, along with a handful other students, to this girl from 1 or 2 years above them. She was supposed to help them get used to their new student lives and act as a peer guide during the first semester.
He went to the couch to grab some dinner he had bought on the way from target, but after of some minutes he grew restless again. His new bra kept feeling weird, his new jeans felt too tight, even if there wasn't anything to constrain anymore, and the thought of presenting himself as a woman made him feel a little panic.
"Ok, focus, Leslie. I could look for that stupid medallion or go online and find out more about my peer group... crying myself to sleep is also an option, but I don't think it will accomplish anything..."
