Pale Pink Packet Part 4

AAPale Packet Part 4

It’s been a few days since my last visit to the doctor. They’ve got me recording every little thing I do to find out the cause of my transformation.

Mom’s been on me like a hawk!

Usually, I’m able to just shrug off her controlling behavior and not be bothered by it, but recently I feel so….emotional about it.

I’ve been secretly crying in my room a lot the last few days. It’s usually triggered after seeing my body in the mirror.

Today, however, I’m determined to do something about the way I look. I’d dug out some of my workout gear and I planned to hit the gym hard.

If I could build some muscle—maybe I’d start to feel better about how thin and curvy my body has become!

“Knock knock,” Phoebe says, bursting into my room with a big smile on her face.

Flinching and her sudden appearance, I get all embarrassed and try and hide what I’m wearing.

“Errmm….,” Phoebe mumbles, staring at me with a dumb-looking face. “What are you…….. doing?”

“Nothing…!” I bashfully reply, folding my arms and turning away.

“Are they you’re old gym shorts?” Phoebe asks, in an almost mocking manner.

“Yeah,” I sharply reply, looking down at the baggy shorts hanging loose from my wide hips. “Problem?”

Phoebe holds back a snigger and shakes her head! She’s making me feel so uncomfortable in my own skin with those faces she keeps pulling.

“What is it!?” I growl, stamping a foot in frustration.

Phoebe gently smiles and tilts her head to one side. She slowly steps towards me and pulls at my very baggy white t-shirt.

“Going to the gym…?” she questions, looking me up and down.

“Yeah…..” I reply, stepping back from her.

“Are you wearing a sports bra…?” she queries, making it obvious she’s looking at my chest.

Disgusted by her suggestion, I shake my head and frown. I don’t like having to wear a bra at all, why does she think I’d wear a bloody sports bra?

“No, I’m not,” I abruptly reply.

Sighing, Phoebe rolls her eyes. “Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Warn me about what!?” I huff, putting my hands onto my hips as Phoebe turns to leave the room.

Looking over her shoulder as she heads to the door, Phoebe smirks. “You wanna borrow some leggings?”

I feel my face go red. I’d already tried on some of those early and it wasn’t a success. A certain package was a little obvious in tight leggings and I’m not yet comfortable enough to deal with all of the questions about my appearance.

“No thank you,” I politely answer.

“Okay then…,” Phoebe giggles with a playful smirk as she leaves the room. “Have fun…..!”

Frowning at that entire interaction, I gather up my soft long hair and told it in my hand.

“Wait Pheebs!” I call out, rushing towards my open bedroom door. “Can I borrow a hair tie!?”

A few hours later….

I hadn’t been to the gym in months. The last time I came was before I broke my leg. The anxiety of walking through the door was almost enough to make me physically sick. Still, I managed to push through it!

“H-hey,” I stutter, greeting the gruff-looking man at the welcome counter.

I’m starting to get somewhat used to the looks I get from other men, but he, however, is particularly off-putting. He looks up at me like I’m some sort of monstrosity.

“Hello miss..,” he answers, quickly darting his eyes to look at my unsupported chest.

I grit my teeth and recoil at being called ‘miss’.

Slowly blinking and suppressing the urge to cry, I fold my arms in an effort to cover myself up. My old clothes are like bin bags on me so I’d hate to think what's running through this guy's mind as she gawks at me like that.

I’d been dreading this interaction for hours—ever since I decided it was time to come here. My membership card was me from before all this happened.

“H-here….,” I say softly,  flashing my membership ID quickly.

The man just smiles as I nervously stuff the ID badge back into my rucksack.

“That's not your ID.” he laughs, leaning back in his chair as it creaks. “Your brothers….?” He asks, giving me a mischievous look.

Feeling shivers run up my spine, I give him a nervous grin. I really don’t want to have to explain myself to this guy. I don’t think he’d understand!

Silence falls over us both for a good few moments. I just keep grinning at him as sweat forms on my forehead. My brain was desperate to think of an excuse, but I couldn’t think of anything in my state of panic!

“Go on…..,” he eventually replies flippantly. “I’ll let you off this one time—but only because you’re cute.”

Now stiff from fear, I scurry past the welcome desk. As I do, I could feel him still staring at me as I hastily shuffle down the hallways toward the changing room. Made me feel gross and dirty. Reminded exactly why I’d been hiding in my room a lot more recently.

As I turn the corner, I push up against the wall out of sight and take a deep breath. My heart was thumping like mad. I need to get a hold of myself and remember why I’m even here!

That’s when I look up and see two beefed-up dudes strutting confidently out of the changing rooms just a little further down the corridor. Just seeing their large muscley frames makes me feel feeble and small.

“Craaaap…..,” I groan, now covering my face with my hands.

This problem didn’t even occur to me on the way over What bloody changing room do I use!?

I’m a guy but I look like a girl! What do I even do in this situation!?

I can’t go in the men's locker room—I’ll get stared at like—like I’m some sorta weirdo! Going into the lady's is not right either! I’m not a peeping Tom!

Worrying, I rub my face hard and let out a long breath. Is it just easier to go home?

Shaking my head, I look down the corridor at the women's locker room door. It’s clear with no one around.

Much to my annoyance, the women's locker room seems the path of least resistance.

I guess it’s where I fit in right now and I’ve not come all this way just to quit at the first hurdle! If I just rush in and head straight for a locker, I can stuff my bag and get out on the gym floor without seeing anything I shouldn’t!

Forming fists with my hands—I knew exactly what I needed to do!

An hour later…..

Cardio was my next port of call before I finish for the day. Although a little upsetting how little I can now lift, I’d focused mainly on weights.

Walking up to the treadmill, I could feel my muscles aching and tightening.

I’d probably overdone it for this first session, but it feels good to have worked off some steam.

Stepping onto the treadmill, I start at a very slow walk. Stepping it up further and further—I get into a small jog.

My god is it hard work!

Not only are my muscles tight, but my body is bouncing and moving incredibly awkwardly! Even at this slow jog, I felt my chest throwing itself around like they are possessed.

Still very determined to press through, I keep going and move up to a brisk run.

I feel my hair whipping around behind my head, but that’s the least of my worries. I have to hold my chest tight in fear that one might bounce up and knock me out!

“Hi….Hello…..,” A blonde girl squeals, rushing over to me from the side. She looks at me with a frantic expression—like I’m doing something dangerous.

Still running and trying to hold my body still, the blonde girl slows the treadmill down to a stop.

“Hey!” I complain, glaring at her as she stands in front of my machine. “What’dya do that for!?”

With wide open eyes, the girl looks around the gym floor, then stares me in the eyes.

“You're making a scene,” she whispers, gesturing secretly at my chest.

“I am!?” I gasp, now looking around at the male faces gawking at me.

“Yeah…,” the blonde girl says gently. “Why on earth would you go on a treadmill without a bra on?” she asks quickly, clearly very confused.

I look down at her and shrug.

“Didn’t think I’d need one,” I answer truthfully

She raises her eyebrow then shakes her head. “Are you joking…?Are you unaware that you’re a woman!?”

I didn’t need to take this from her! Who the hell is she to tell me what I can or can’t do?

I step off the treadmill and hold my chest. It is hurting a little. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Do you need to borrow one?” the blonde girl asks, rushing to my side. “I think it’s in your best interest if you want to use those.” She continues, pointing back at the treadmill.

I dismissively shake my head. Why does everyone keep trying to get me to wear one?

Taking hold of my hand. She doesn’t take no for an answer! Knowing everyone is still staring at me, I didn’t want to make any more of a scene. I just let her guide me away.

Seconds later, we are standing in the woman’s locker room. I’m trying my best to focus solely on the locker behind this girl who’s dragged me in here. I daren’t look anywhere else in case I see ….stuff

“My name’s Luc…..,” she says, aburtly stopping and playing with her ponytail. “A-Ashleigh. My name is Ashleigh. What's yours?”

Feeling the blood rush to my cheeks, I didn’t know what to say.

“Erm…..,” I mumble, stalling as Ashleigh reaches into her locker. “I guess my name is Aiden.” I finally answer as she holds a small black garment out towards me.

“You….guess?” she replies with a puzzled expression. “Well…..okay, then Aiden. Here, you can borrow this.”

She shoves the garment into my hands.

“What is it..?” I ask, holding it to my face.

“A sports bra dummy,” Ashleigh laughs. “Should fit you I think.”

“Thanks….,” I sarcastically reply.

As Ashleigh stares at me, waiting for me to put the darn bra on, my watch buzzes. Saved by the bell or what? It’s time to take my medication.

“Oh…gotta take my med,” I explain, walking toward my locker.

Phew! Maybe I can make my excuses now and leave without having to put this girl's bra on!

Opening my locker and rushing to pull out the pale pink packet with my meds, I drop them into the floor. As the packet hits the ground, Ashleigh rushes to be nice and pick them up.

“Here……,” she says, holding the packet in her hand.

I watch as the color drains from her face. As she holds the packet out towards me, she glances at me and then awkwardly looks back down.

Confused, I scrunch my face.

“What's the matter…?” I ask, bewildered by her behavior.

There are only pain meds! What's the big deal!? She’s looking at me like I’m doing something illegal.

“M-makes sense now…,” she mumbles, giving me a painfully obvious forced smile.

“What makes sense,” I reply.

“I…Errr….,” she mutters, uncomfortably shifting on the spot. “I didn’t realize you are….. transitioning. Forgive me if I was treating you like an idiot.”

Shocked, I stare her directly in the eyes. She quickly looks away.

“Transitioning!?” I angrily ask, her having touched a nerve. “I’m not tranisistiing! These are pain meds,” I claim, looking down at the pink packet.

Stunned, Ashleigh forces the packet into my hand and takes a step back.

“I erm…,” she replies franticly, shutting her locker door. “S-sure if you say so….”

I look down at the packet of meds and study each side of the box. Is she trying to wind me up!? Could she tell I’m actually a guy?

I watch Ashlight force another awkward smile and hurry out of the locker room.

I stand silent. In one hand I hand her sports bra and in the other, I hold my meds.

Like a lightning bolt hitting a tree, I come to an explosive and stark realization! My legs healed now—why on earth is mom making me still take these!?