The principal opened the doors a few minutes later to begin showing the guests in. Wendell stood behind the curtain backstage, watching distinguished scientists, professors, and business leaders file into the Seabrooke Middle School auditorium, his stomach tightening. He didn't think he could make it through this.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he spun around to find Samantha there. She had to get on her tiptoes to reach his lips. "Don't worry, you'll be great," she said. The knots in his stomach untied at the touch of her lips against his.

"I love you," he said. He kissed her this time, lifting her off the ground. He could have remained like that forever, but the principal introduced him and the audience began to applaud. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting," she said.

Wendell wiped at his mouth to get off any lipstick and then straightened his tie. He pushed back the curtain and strode up to the podium. The applause died out, leaving dozens of world-renowned eyes staring at him, waiting for him to tell them of his discovery. "Ladies and gentlemen, for centuries people have been searching for the Fountain of Youth-" His voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat, but when he continued, his voice sounded at least two octaves higher than before. "But now the search is over."

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He cleared his throat again and then reached over for a glass of water. He stopped to hold up long, slender fingers, each nail painted a glossy pink. The audience started to murmur amongst themselves as if trying to decide if this were part of the act. "I'm sorry," Wendell squeaked. "Let me start over."

Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. He reached up with one hand to wipe the sweat away only to find hair falling down to the small of his back. His chest started to tighten and he watched in horror as a pair of breasts pressed against his shirt until the buttons threatened to burst-

"That's quite enough, Miss Palmer," an old woman said.

Wendell opened his eyes to find himself standing at the head of a classroom full of girls in matching plaid jumpers. "Take your seat, young lady. We'll discuss this later." Miss Palmer? Young lady? "Can you hear me, Miss Palmer? I asked you to sit down."

Wendell turned to her and then looked down to find himself wearing a plaid jumper, white blouse, and white knee socks like the other girls. Thinking back to the nightmare in the auditorium, he held up slender hands with pink fingernails and then reached back to touch hair falling to the small of his back. "I'm a girl," he said. The other girls snickered.




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