A few blocks away from school, Amon Lettman was freaking out and Michelle was less than effective at consoling him. Michelle thought her wish to make affected people “realize who they really are with complete clarity” would cause Amber to remember her life as a bubbly cheerleader. Instead, it just caused her to instantly realize who she is becoming as a result of Mikey’s musical closets wish: Amon Lettman, South High’s only truly emo boy.
The problem is, while Amon now knows about his new life with full clarity, his bodily transformations are going to take some time to catch up. His current body looks (and feels) identical to the busty blonde bimbo who walked into his room to assume his identity in the first place, and he was having a hard time coming to terms with his own corporeal reality.
“It feels so weird… I can feel them in my hands but I also feel my hands on them.” Amon squeaked, squeezing his ample breasts.
“Trust me, I know.” Michelle replied, looking around. “Listen ma belle, let’s get you inside if you’re gonna grope yourself.”
Michelle wasn’t sure how public perception or reality would bend to her new wish if at all, and she’d rather not test it on the next person to walk by.
“I’m sorry but who the fuck are you? And if you’re not a witch how did you turn me into a girl?” Amon asked, losing patience.
“I’m Michelle Lisle. I transferred to South High from France last fall.”
“Wait, you’re friends with Zoe Sanders aren’t you?” Amon spat. “That hollow excuse for a bitch has been making my life a living hell for years. I don’t want anything to do with her or her gaggle of shallow shedevils. Turn me back and then get lost.”
“Hmm. Okay so that’s the hard part.” Michelle chose not to take the angry emo boy’s words personally. “I’ve kinda got good news and bad news about turning you back.”
“Of course you do.” Amon crossed his arms, inadvertently propping up his squishy chest orbs.
“The bad news is I can’t actually turn you back into a boy because, well, technically you’re not a boy. You’re a girl named Amber, a cheerleader like me. At least until a few minutes ago when you wandered into this emo boy’s room and put on his clothes, thereby assuming his life.” Michelle explained.
Amon didn’t entertain this with a response. He just stood there glaring daggers at the French beauty.
“But the good news is that I don’t need to turn you into a boy because you should slowly do that on your own. The same thing happened to me and everyone else who’s been swapped with, we just didn’t realize it as it was happening. You should be aware of it because I made you aware when I touched you. Make sense?”
“I can’t tell if you’re an insane person or if I’m going insane myself.” Amon rubbed his temples.
“Amon Derek Lettman! What are you still doing here, go to school!” Amon’s mom barked at him from the front door.
“Mom! Can’t you see I’m dealing with something?” Amon gestured to his face and body.
“What on god’s green earth are you talking about now?”
“You’re kidding. I’m a fucking GIRL. Look at me!”
“Watch your language mister.” His mom scolded.
“Unbelievable. You mean to tell me you don’t notice ANYTHING different about me??”
“Amon is there something you’re trying to tell me? I noticed a thing of eyeliner in your room… you’re not one of those boys who thinks he’s a girl are you?”
“NO! I…” His face scrunched up and his eyes started tearing up, threatening to smudge his makeup. “Whatever! I don’t need any of this! I’m going to school.”
Amon stormed off in a huff and Michelle stood there looking awkward.
“Who are you?” Amon’s mom noticed her standing there.
“I’m… doesn’t matter. Have a nice day.”
