Chapter 6

Thank God it was Friday. Sure, I’d only been back at school for three days, but those three days had felt like the longest week ever.

On top of dealing with a brand new schedule of classes, I’d also had to deal with each of my friends giving me condolences for my former body’s passing. I wanted to put it behind me, but I kept getting reminded of it.

I woke to my alarm, tossed on a sports bra and athletic leggings and took my frustrations to the gym. It’s typically empty early in the morning, the solitude letting me run on the treadmill in peace.

The sun hadn’t come up and the campus was dark aside from the eerie blue glow of the emergency safety lights.

As I made my short trek from Cooper Hall to the fitness center I had this feeling I was being watched.

A muffled voice. I looked around to see if anyone else was in the quad this early. Nobody. Maybe I was hearing things. I continued on my way.

I heard a twig snap and stopped in my tracks and immediately spun around again.

No one, nothing but the shallow sound of my own breathing. Maybe I was letting everything get to me.

I turned to resume my walk to the gym — only to immediately slam into Lana.

“Jesus Christ!” I blurted. “Lana, what are you doing awake so early?”

Lana silently cocked her head. “I… I needed a walk.”

“Me too.”

She had that intense look again.

“Hey — listen, it’s not cool to sneak up behind people in the dark. I’m heading to the gym. Do you… want to join me? Maybe work off some of that aggression?”

She looked deep in thought. “No.” 

“OK, see you later,” I said, sidestepping her and walking away. I glanced backwards, and she was still standing in the same place I left her. Weird girl.

“I hear voices,” she mumbled.

I turned back to her. What do I do with that information? “Umm, have you talked to anyone about that?”

“No.”

“You should — this school has a counselor you can talk to," I explained to Lana. "Her name is Virginia. You should tell her about those voices you're hearing." God, this place gets stranger every day.

At that point, she turned and walked away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. That girl creeps me out. 

I made my way to the gym. The only other person there this early was Brett’s roommate, David. No doubt Brett had told him of our argument the other day. He nodded at me, but thankfully didn’t strike up conversation. A conversation was the last thing I wanted when I came here.

After a half hour spent running on the treadmill, I went over to the heavy bag and yanked on a pair of gloves. I squared up, bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet as I tried to center myself.

The first punch was a tentative thing, just a way to shake off the lingering cobwebs of the morning.

I rolled my shoulders, dancing in a slow circle around the swaying bag, and put a bit more weight behind the next jab.

Thump. The chains rattled as the bag swayed from the impact.

It felt good. Cathartic. Almost immediately, the voices of my classmates started echoing in my skull

“Cate, I heard about your body,” I muttered under my breath.

Thwack!

The bag responded with a solid thud, swinging wider on its tether.

“Oh, Cate, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Jab!

“Cate, why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you call?”

Thwack!

I stepped up the pace, my feet moving in a practiced rhythm. I visualized the smug, calculating expression Hathaway always wore. “Displaced individuals simply don’t return to their original forms, Miss Fox.”

Jab-smack!

“Cate, you’re grounded.” Fucking Kincades. I’m a forty-three-year-old man, dammit!

Thwack!

I saw the face of the Body Hopper, the bastard who’d stolen my life and Emma’s in a single heartbeat.

Jab-smack!

The Order of the Dawn, sitting on their mountain of magic while people like Joslyn struggled. The sheer, unadulterated injustice of it all.

Thwack!

The image of my own hollowed-out corpse lying in that wooden box.

Thwack! Thwack!

Every dream I’d ever had for my future.

Thwack! Thwack!

Every dream Emma Kincade was supposed to have.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

And the crushing weight of knowing it was all my fault for not doing something — anything — to fix it.

I drove a knee into the bag, letting out a primal, ragged growl. I spent the next sixty seconds in a blur of motion, pummeling the leather until my arm burned, finally collapsing against the bag and hugging it as I struggled to catch my breath.

With blurred vision, I looked around to see if anyone saw that. I realized then that David was still watching me. He didn’t say a word, thank God; he just gave me a small, respectful nod and went back to his own workout.

* * *

Nothing like taking your rage and anger out in the morning. I returned home, showered, and put on my uniform. White blouse, pink tie, chinos, navy blue jacket. It was off to class. 

I was sitting in Transformations 201. It was a class I had with Brett and a few other friends I made last year. 

I walked past Brett without saying anything and took a seat next to Amanda. I’ve been avoiding Brett for the past two days. Maybe if he was Brittany, I could have a heartfelt conversation with her. But I feel I just can’t talk to Brett the same way I talk to Brittany — and yes I know they’re the same person.

“Cate,” he said across rows of desks. “My roommate saw you at the gym this morning…”

Fucking David — I can’t even go to the gym for privacy. I kept walking to my desk. Brett was trying to make eye contact with me, but I avoided it. 

When class began, the teacher, Ms. Sims, had us all move our desks around in a circle so we could introduce ourselves and our transformations. 

Ms. Sims herself was a middle-aged woman, with short blonde hair, jeans, and a professional blouse.

“Hi everyone. I’ll start. I’m Eugenia Sims. I was cursed by a witch back when I was a teenager and turned into a cheerleader. Obviously, I had to find a new career when I graduated because you can’t exactly make a career out of being a high school cheerleader. Thankfully, I found PAA who helped me learn to become a teacher. This is my eleventh year teaching this course. Who would like to go next?” 

Brett raised his hand. “I’ll go next. Hi, I’m Brett, and I’m a Were.”

“Hi Brett,” Ms. Sims said. “Since the moon is currently in the waning crescent phase, I’m going to deduce you’re a werewoman.”

Brett nodded. 

“What’s your lunar name?”

“Brittany.”

I could feel his eyes looking at me as I kept my head down and casually scribbled in my notebook.

“Pretty,” she said, noting that detail in her notebook. “Lets go around the room from there,” and looked at the student next to Brett.

“Hi, I’m Becky, I caught a TG virus.”

I looked over at Becky after hearing the words “TG virus.” Maybe I should introduce her to Lana so she has someone to talk to. Or would that be mean? For both of them. After all, Lana is kinda weird. And Becky is well… kinda a bitch.

“Hi Becky, do you know which strain you caught?” Ms. Sims asked.

“Omicron 21,” she replied.

“Ah yes, the outbreak from a few years ago. Did you pick up any new hobbies?”

“I’m a runner now,” Becky replied.

“They’re always runners,” Amanda leaned over and whispered to me. 

I shrugged. There is a stereotype about TG Virus victims. They’re almost always athletic. Imagine a virus making it so you didn’t have to put in hard work at the gym. 

The next student went. “Hi, I’m Melissa, I’m a Shapeshifter.” Melissa is also the bouncer for the teen nightclub. But I doubt she’ll tell the teacher that.

“Hi, I’m Gina. I’m new here. My best friend and I made wishes on the Stone of Invidia. He wished I was always a girl. So nobody believes that I was ever a boy. My parents, the school. They all think I’m crazy.”

“So, you’re a normie?” Becky asked, unprompted.

“No!” Gina replied. “I’m a TG like all of you — I just can’t prove it.”

“I believe you,” Ms. Sims said, picking up a text book that was sitting next to her. She flipped through some pages. “Here it is. The Stone of Invidia. It’s covered in the unit on magical totems.” 

Hearing Gina’s story made me feel like my problems were nothing. My original body died. Hers never existed. I couldn’t imagine what it’d feel like to have Jack Baker wiped from history.

Ms. Sims then looked at Amanda to go next.

“I’m Amanda, I was accidentally turned into a clone of my girlfriend by a magic mirror.” Huh — I didn’t know that about Amanda. I knew she was a Magic, but she never brought up what transformed her.

I didn’t have time to mull that over as it was my turn. “Hi, I’m Cate. I’m a Displaced.”

“Oh, a Displaced. You ran into a Body Hopper?”

“I did.”

“You’re lucky,” she pointed out. “Most people who run into Body Hoppers don’t live to talk about it.”

I could feel my stomach sink, and my fists clench at the reminder.

“I heard Cate’s original body is dead,” Becky blurted out.

I slunk down in my chair. I needed to get out of here.

“Fuck you Becky!” Brett yelled at her. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Seriously,” Amanda chimed in.

Ms. Sims raised her hands to get the class to stop talking. “I’m sorry Cate, I didn’t know. If you’d ever like to talk about it, my door is open.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I responded gruffly without making eye contact.

She must’ve noticed my body language, because she immediately moved onto the next person.

“Hi, I’m Sally. My daughter was practicing to become a witch and transformed me into a nine-year-old. That was six years ago…”

I was getting tired of listening to these stories. I tuned them out and doodled more in my notebook. A sketch of the body hopper that was burned into my memory. The body that Emma is in.

After the class was finished introducing themselves, Ms. Sims returned to the front of the classroom. “During Transformations 201, we’ll be going over what makes each of you unique. And everything you need to know about handling your own transformation and interacting with your classmates and others at this school.”

Ugh. I continued to scribble in my notebook. Why am I even here?

* * *

After class I walked with Amanda and Sally to the cafeteria.

“Cate, how are you holding up?” Sally asked. “I’m sorry about Becky. She’s a bitch.”

I rolled my eyes at the constant reminder. “I’m fine,” I tersely responded. “I would rather we change the subject.”

“Oh… sure,” she agreed. She then looked at Amanda. “So Amanda — I thought your dead-self was 24.”

“I was,” Amanda confirmed. “Well, now I would be 25.”

“So… um, I’ve been wondering about what you said in class… if you were transformed into a clone of your girlfriend… W.T.F.? Your girlfriend was 14?”

Amanda’s face turned nearly as red as her hair. “No,” she whispered. “I was really turned into a clone of her younger sister.”

“How’d that happen?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to tell her,” I reminded Amanda. “We’re not required to relive our past traumas."

“Oh, come on,” Sally pleaded. “You know about us. I had to relive that awkward period and go through puberty twice! Going from a middle-aged man in his 50s to a nine-year-old enrolled in ballet classes was so embarrassing! Not to mention having your wife treat you like her daughter. Ugh.”

Amanda sighed. “The mirror uses clothing to transform the person in the mirror. I would often… steal… my girlfriend's tops and wear them.”

“Well that’s not pervy,” Sally chuckled sarcastically.

“Fuck you, Sally! I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m just fucking with you Amanda. God! So, OK, how’d you get clothing that belonged to your girlfriend’s little sister?

“It doesn’t matter who owns the clothing. Apparently the mirror changes you into the last person who wore it. How was I supposed to know her younger sister borrowed her top? I knocked the mirror off the dresser and broke it when I freaked out about my mistake. So, I’m stuck. As a clone of my ex-girlfriend’s fourteen-year-old sister.”

“Bummer,” I mumbled.

“No, it was actually the best thing that ever happened to me,” Amanda smiled at us. “I’m a better person. I’m in a better place. I have awesome friends.” She tugged at a lock of her curly hair and giggled. “I have this cute copper hair. I’m just not allowed within a hundred yards of my ex or her family. I’m envious that both of you get to go back home to a family during breaks and holidays.”

“Yeah, well you haven’t met this body’s parents,” I mumbled, pointing a thumb at myself.

“Sally, how was your summer?” Amanda asked, trying to change the subject.

“I had a dance competition,” Sally said. “My daughter came home from college to watch.” Her smile faded and her voice lowered. “She doesn’t call me ‘Dad’ anymore. Just ‘Sally.’”

“I’m sorry, Sally.” Amanda said. “That must be rough.”

When we reached the quad, I noticed a girl sitting on a bench by herself. Joslyn. She’s actually a Normie - meaning that she was not transformed by anything. She’s a trans girl who was abandoned here by her wealthy parents. Sound familiar? I bet they’re out in Cabo partying with the Kincades.

While it’s true that PAA has taken her in, she’s kind of a loner. She hangs out sometimes, but due to her Normie status, isn’t in any cliques. I talk to her every now and then. She’s a nice girl who’s struggling with her body.

Every time I see her, a part of me gets upset. While the school itself isn’t magical, the people who founded it and under whose shadow the school operates — the Order of the Dawn — can use magic. It pisses me off that they won’t transform Joslyn into a girl when she has the need, and they clearly have the means.

I glanced at her, catching a fleeting look of sadness on her face. Was it because she was alone? Was it dysphoria? Was it the jealousy of seeing so many trans girls getting their wishes fulfilled — or even cis men like me getting an unwanted transformation?

Not far from where Joslyn sat was the memorial to Jackie. Jackie was the one who reminded me that not everyone here has a happily ever after. She was the one who pointed out that the Order, by their inactions, are part of the problem. 

What if my inaction is part of the problem too?

I turned to Amanda and Sally. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you two later.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see an old friend.”

* * *

I put up with these conflicting feelings all last year and the thought of putting up with them for one more minute was becoming unbearable. Doing nothing was a betrayal to my friends and classmates. How many other Jackies were out there, ticking time bombs ready to harm other people because of what had happened to them?  How many others were suffering in silence, like Joslyn?

I walked straight across the quad to the Administration building and up to Headmistress Hathaway’s office. I didn’t bother knocking. I didn’t stop until I was standing at the front of her desk, my 15-year-old eyes attempting to bore a hole into her skull. She had her desk phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. She flashed me an annoyed look. “I need to call you back,” she said into the receiver.

She hung up the phone and looked at me. “What can I do for you, Miss Fox?”

“I’ve played the role you wanted me to play for nearly a year. I can’t stay silent any more. There are students on this campus who need the chance to transform into the gender they were meant to be, or at least the one of their own choosing.”

She sighed. “We have been through this. Wielding magic of any kind is illegal. On this campus. In this state. In this country. I expected a former detective would understand what the law is.”

What was I doing here? Was I really expecting her to change her mind? Did I really expect her to care about students like Joslyn? “I expected a Headmistress to care about the emotional trauma of her students, not the legalities. You have the means — and deliberately do nothing. I, however, can’t sit idly by and watch students like Joslyn struggle.”

“Miss Clark has been approved for hormone replacement therapy. She is transitioning the legal way.” Hathaway leaned back, her expression shifting from annoyed to calculating. “And Miss Fox, for your information, I do care about the emotional well-being of every student in this institution. Which is why we have them see a therapist when they first enroll. Speaking of which, if recent events require you to see her again, I can make that adjustment to your schedule.”

This wasn’t going the way I intended. I shifted my stance and crossed my arms defensively. I could feel my bra digging into my ribcage.

She sighed before continuing. “Listen. Miss Fox — Cate. I emphasize. You have been through a lot. Your one-year anniversary of being displaced is coming up, yes?”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged, “but this isn’t about me—”

“Of course it is. You are a detective. You have been trained to solve problems. You see a problem. I understand. You are also loyal to your friends. That is why you’re still here — and not expelled.”

“I can’t just turn a blind eye...”

I expected her to have a rebuttal, but instead she was staring at a notebook on her desk. “Are you bored, Miss Fox?”

That isn’t what I expected her to ask. “Bored? No. In fact, I’d rather be left alone.”

“Maybe the problem is that your detective mind is not getting enough enrichment here. It is a common problem with people who have been age regressed. Their adult intellectual needs are not being met in a high school setting.”

“Enriched? What — are you going to enroll me on the Math team? No thank you.”

“Here is what I will do for you, Miss Fox, since you are not willing to let it drop. Work for the Order—”

“Fuck no!” My reaction was instant and fueled by nearly a year of loathing her and her stupid Order of the Dawn.

Hathaway didn’t flinch. “You did not allow me to finish. If you do this for me, I will do something for you. Quid pro quo, as they say.”

“I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Then this conversation is over, Miss Fox. Please leave.”

I paused and let her words sink in. I’ve been antsy ever since I learned my body died. Time was running out to make a difference. As much as I hated it, Hathaway was throwing me a lifeline. “Wait — you’ll help a student transform if I work for you?”

“Exactly. One job. One student.”

Is this what I wanted? I wanted to help students here. Could I really work for the enemy? Do the ends justify the means? Maybe Hathaway is just blowing smoke up my ass about this proposed job. “Three,” I countered. I was already tallying up three students in my head that didn’t want to be their current gender. Joslyn. Lana. Becky? Nah — fuck Becky, I’m sure I could find a third.

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves. You do not even know what the job entails.”

“What is it?”

“There has been a murder—”

Murder? “I haven’t heard about any murder,” my eyes instinctively scanning her office for clues.

“Far away from here. The Order of the Dawn is investigating. You can provide… your expertise and assist them.”

“I worked for missing persons, not homicide.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Shame, I will let them know you are not interested.”

Fuck me. “Wait — I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. The job is at Bikini Beach.”

Where? “Bikini… Beach?”

“Bikini Beach is a private, very exclusive women's-only water park. But the Order can get you in on the investigation. Assuming you do a good job with it, I can grant a lifetime pass to anyone of your choosing.”

“I’m asking for you to use the Order’s magic to transition students, not to get a membership to some ritzy country club.”

“The park transforms men into women for the duration of the pass.”

My mental gears were turning. “So a lifetime pass…”

“Will effectively do what you’re asking me to do. Legally.”

“I thought magic was illegal.”

“It is. Some places — such as Bikini Beach — have religious exemptions. But make no mistake, they are under even more scrutiny than this institution.”

A religious exemption? This must have been the same loophole they used when they let Sophia’s witchy mother go free after transforming Sophia.

She continued, “As such, we will have to get you a short-term pass.”

“And that pass will transform a man into a woman.”

“Precisely.”

“But I’m already a girl-– I mean I’m in a girl’s body.”

“Very astute, Miss Fox.”

“Well, hold on — that means this pass is wasted on me. Can I bring someone? Joslyn, maybe? As an act of good faith?”

She contemplated that for a second. “As long as they don’t get in the way, I can arrange it.”

I nodded.  Now we were getting somewhere. “What can you tell me about the case?”

“I know as much as you do. I had to hang up on them when you rudely barged into my office. I can, however, arrange an agent to fill you in with all the details.”

I should really ask Joslyn before agreeing to this. After all, it was Jackie Sanders who attempted to de-transition people without asking them first. “Before I agree, can I get back to you?”

“I need an answer in two hours, Miss Fox. I must arrange all of this with the Order. Travel. Accommodations. The guest passes.”

I nodded and left her office.

* * *

I made my way out of the administration building and back into the quad. I had criticized Jackie for not taking people’s desires into account. I better ask Joslyn, or else I’ll be a hypocrite. Thankfully, Joslyn was still there. I hustled over to see her. After all, if she doesn’t want this, if she’s gung-ho on transitioning the legal way, then I won’t take this job. Or maybe I’ll find someone else who wants to transform or de-transform. There’s a handful of them.

“Joslyn,” I said, announcing my presence.

“Oh, hi Cate!” she said. “Did you have a good summer?”

“Yeah, until I died-–”

Her jaw dropped.

“I’m so —”

I raised my hands to stop her apology. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, do you want to take a trip with me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “A trip? Where? The school year just started.”

“Bikini Beach,” I replied.

Her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. “Wait… The Bikini Beach?” she gasped, dropping her feminine falsetto.

“Yeah, you know it?” I wonder if I should tell her the reason I’m going is to investigate a murder.

“I’ve read, like, all of the stories!”

“Stories?” 

“Yeah, there’s a whole universe built around a story written decades ago.”

“Fictional stories? No — I think this place we’re going to is real. And I need to work an investigation there for a few days. I’m allowed to bring a guest—”

“Yes!” she abruptly said. “I’ll do anything!”

“Whoa, before you pack your bags, I should let you know this is a murder investigation, not a vacation. This could be dangerous.”

Joslyn nodded. “I’ll go. Anything. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Umm…” I guess that was that. I had my answer. “Go get packed. I’ll let the Headmistress know you’re coming with me… to Bikini Beach.”

OK. So now all I have to do is go to this resort, solve their murder case, and get Joslyn a free transition. Easy-peasy.