Reality Rain

Goddamn it, now I don’t even have my keys on me. How the hell am I supposed to get inside?

— Come on, Trev! Open up! — I snapped, banging on the door, and winced right away, either from the pain—my fingers were freakishly sensitive now—or from hearing my own voice. This is fucked up. I just hope I’m imagining all this. Just like the rest of the guys who, like me, got caught in that freak rain and... turned into chicks.

— Shit... — I hissed, stepping back and pushing my long hair out of my face. — What the fuck is even happening here...

Trevor’s door stayed stubbornly shut, no matter how hard I knocked or how high-pitched and ridiculously girly my "hey!" came out instead of a normal guy’s voice. I let out a heavy breath, feeling the wet drops under my shirt again — the soaked fabric clung to my body, betraying my new... shape. Especially my tits. Like two hot water balloons, they pulled down and bounced with every movement so much it felt weird just to stand still.

— Seriously? These are... my tits?..

I looked down. Yep, they were there — big, firm, and nearly exposed under a white tank top that was now see-through like I’d worn it on purpose for some damn softcore photo shoot. The underwear definitely wasn’t mine — a lacy bra hugged my new boobs, its straps digging into my shoulders every time I breathed, and it pressed awkwardly under my arms. What the hell is wrong with this thing? Why is it so damn uncomfortable?!

And then finally, the lock clicked.

— What the... Hannah? — Trev stood in the doorway in just a pair of shorts and a rolled-up tee. His eyes went wide as he stared straight at my chest. — Shit... You got caught in the rain?

Hannah? Who the fuck is Hannah?! I wanted to scream, but all that came out was an annoyed, girly sob. My throat tightened, my breath hitched, and my legs nearly gave out.

— Trev, are you out of your mind? It’s me, Hank! — I walked inside, trying not to think about how my hips swayed with every step. — That rain... it did something... I... fuck, look at me!

He blinked. Then blinked again. And... smirked?

— You’re always this grumpy when you’re wet. — He slapped me on the ass. On my fucking ass!

— HEY! — I jumped back, turning to face him. — Are you fucking serious?!

— Uh... you literally told me yesterday you liked that. — He raised his hands like he was surrendering. — Sorry, babe. I thought you were in the mood... You know, showing up at my place, all wet like that...

He chuckled, and it made my skin crawl. I stared at him — that cocky grin, the way he handed me a towel like nothing was weird at all. What the fuck? He was talking to me like I really was Hannah. Some chick. Like... I was his girlfriend.

— And by the way, why didn’t you just use your key? Don’t you have one? — Trev glanced at my bag, then back at me, with that same look... like he’d known me forever. Like nothing had changed.

I froze, trying to keep my heart from exploding and somehow process all this. Keys? What do you mean, I have keys?

– I… – I opened the bag and, with shaking fingers, started digging through it. A pack of tissues. Lipstick. A compact mirror. A tiny bottle of perfume. A wallet, showing off a card with the name “Hannah Bishop,” and finally, a set of keys with some weird cat-shaped keychain. – Wh-what the...

A little pink kitty with heart-shaped eyes. A keychain I would never have used. In my actual life.

Meanwhile, Trevor turned around and headed back inside like he hadn’t even noticed me freezing up.

– Well? What’re you standing there for? Wanna get changed before you catch a cold?

I swallowed hard.

– Trev… What the... what the fuck is this? – I forced out, turning my head just in time to spot a photo on the wall — Trevor and some girl with long dark hair, smiling, with a face that looked way too familiar. For a second I thought it was my sister, if not for the hair color, and I might’ve even cracked a joke… if I didn’t already suspect the worst. – Trevor. I... You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking. This isn’t for real, right?

Trev turned to me with that same damn calm smirk. Like I wasn’t standing in front of him with trembling hands, wet tits showing through my shirt, panic in my voice. Like I wasn’t some dude turned into a chick — but just... his girlfriend having a minor meltdown.

– Look, Han, – he said, stepping closer. – I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.

He got too close. His hand reached for my cheek, but I saw it in time and jerked away.

– Hey! What the hell?! – I yelled, tensing up and raising my arms, fists clenched, falling into a fighting stance. – Do that again and I’ll punch you!

My words didn’t come out nearly as threatening as I wanted — more like a dramatic teenage girl having a meltdown. High-pitched, shaky voice with none of the weight or edge I was used to. Trevor, of course, didn’t take it seriously — just grinned wider.

– Punch me? Hey, hey, chill, princess. Hands off. – He held up his palms like I was some rabid squirrel. – Seriously... you’re acting really weird today. Even for you.

– I’m not a “princess”! – I hissed, backing off, feeling the shirt stick to my back, the bra straps digging painfully into my shoulders, and dampness pooling under my tits again. Fuck, these... these things are messing with my head! Every move sent a weird jiggle, a heavy, awkward friction that made it impossible to think straight.

– You don’t remember who I am?! – I blurted out, stepping toward him. – I... I was your fucking roommate! We’ve been friends since fucking high school! We drink every week! Played Call of Duty together! I’m HANK, goddamn it!

He blinked.

– What... are you even talking about? – Trev asked slowly, like he was talking to someone mentally unstable. – Han, did you hit your head or something? You’re my girlfriend. We’ve been together since high school. Your toothbrush’s literally right next to mine. You’re not Hank. Who even is that?

– I... – My breath caught. I turned around, looking at the hallway mirror. A girl. Droplets running down her face. Smudged mascara. Boobs under the wet T-shirt standing out in a way that screamed for attention. Waist. Hips. Hair — long, dark, soaked. Eyes wide open in panic. And not a trace of Hank.

And then Trev stepped in. Way too close.

– Listen. – His voice softened. His hand rested gently on my shoulder. – It’s okay. You’re just stressed. Is it the exams? Or did you talk to your mom again? She always puts pressure on you...

– No! – I shoved him back. – I’m not... for fuck’s sake! I’m not girl, got it?! And I’m not your...

But then he stepped back, and his eyes shifted. Down to my boobs. He raised an eyebrow slightly.

– Well... You don’t look like a guy. Especially with those. – He nodded at my tits, clearly visible through the wet shirt. – And believe me, I’ve seen ’em up close. Plenty of times. Not just those, either... that little scar on your back...

I froze. Worse — I blushed. Embarrassed. What the hell is wrong with me? How does he know about my childhood scar? I’ve never shown that to anyone.

– Maybe you hit Jake’s weed again? – he added with a grin, and even though the joke was dumb as hell given the situation... I laughed. Unintentionally. But it was funny. Still, a moment later I snapped back to reality when he stepped closer, and I turned away. This time I just closed my eyes and said it quietly, like I was ashamed of everything, like whispering might help me ignore the truth.

– You don’t understand... – I whispered. – That rain... it...

– Shhh. – His fingers touched my lips. I instinctively jerked back, but he caught my gaze again. – You’re home. It’s okay. Just change clothes, warm up. Then I’ll make you that sandwich you love. With the spicy sauce, yeah?

I didn’t want to hear it anymore. Fuck. Sandwich. With spicy sauce — the way I like it? That scar. It was like he actually knew everything about me. Like he genuinely cared. Fuck... what the hell is going on...

I looked up and met his gaze. He was smiling — sincerely, calmly, like a guy who thought his girlfriend was just a little shaken up. And I... I nodded.

– Fine, – I said, barely audible. – I’ll get changed. Just...

– Just what?

– Just... don’t look.

He laughed and, raising his hands, headed toward the kitchen. I stood there alone. Staring at the bedroom door and thinking that maybe... maybe it wasn’t just me who changed. Maybe reality itself had shifted.