Bro-Girlfriend

Part 1

— So where is she... — Lucy muttered quietly, walking slowly along the walls lined with books in the city library’s reading room. Her voice was soft, almost distracted, but there was steady confidence in her steps — her intuition rarely failed her.

She knew who she was looking for. More precisely, who she was following. And the moment she turned the corner, her eyes landed on a familiar head of hair: long, dark blue strands with a faint turquoise shimmer cascading down the back of the very girl now sitting on a wooden chair — barefoot, legs stretched out in front of her like she’d forgotten she was in a public place, nose buried in a book. She was so absorbed in reading, she didn’t even notice someone had walked up.

Lucy narrowed her eyes.

— Sandra... — she said, just loud enough to stay within the bounds of proper library etiquette.

Sandra looked up from the page, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she raised her gaze to Lucy. Her face looked a little lost, like she hadn’t expected to be noticed at all. That expression gave her a strangely charming, almost peaceful look — showing just how deeply she’d been caught up in the world of the book, forgetting everything around her, everything happening in the world, and most importantly, with her body.

— Oh, hey, Lucy. Don’t sneak up on me like that — she said softly, still not moving. Her voice was gentle, just like her whole appearance, even though there was a faint tension in her posture.

— Sneak up? — Lucy repeated, her brows knitting together. She glanced at Sandra’s wide-open pose — and her skirt, already too short to begin with, made the whole thing even more inappropriate for a public place. — Sandra, do you even remember what you look like? You're sitting like... — Lucy paused, shook her head with irritation, and muttered under her breath. — Like you’ve still got something dangling between your legs.

Sandra blinked slowly, as if it took her a moment to realize what Lucy meant. Then — like a switch had flipped — a mix of embarrassment and stubborn defiance flashed across her face. She placed her hands on her knees and, clearly forcing herself, began to pull her legs closer together. But it looked awkward — like her body was still fighting instincts that hadn’t yet caught up with her new form. Her hips, soft and wide, didn’t obey like they used to.

— I forgot... the book’s just really interesting... — Sandra mumbled, still clumsily trying to bring her knees together, feeling like her face was hot enough to fry eggs on.

— Interesting? — Lucy raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. — And what exactly caught your attention in the “Psychoenergetics and Astral Channels” section?

Part 2

Sandra glanced down at the cover for a second, like she’d forgotten what exactly she was holding.

— It's... about channeling energy through subtle fields... through... — she trailed off, blushing even harder. — Through the body. The female one. You know... adaptation and all that. Kind of scientific, but it reads like a beginner’s guide for baby witches with decent tits...

— Uh-huh, — Lucy snorted, casting a glance downward. — Well, now you’ve got some “decent” ones yourself. And not just the tits. So legs together, Sandra — how many times do I have to say it?

Sandra grimaced, quickly squeezing her knees together. She wasn’t exactly a fan of Lucy’s tone — especially considering Lucy had been her girlfriend just a few months ago, back when Sandra was still Frank. But still, she was insanely grateful to her. At least for sticking around after she suddenly woke up in this body, thanks to that one stupid drunken night when Matt and Frank, slightly buzzed, got into a heated argument: “The best girlfriend is a bro.” Matt insisted it was true. Frank totally disagreed.

— That’s dumb as hell, 'cause it’s complete bullshit. I’m your only real friend, and if I ever turned into a girl, you’d realize how ridiculous that idea is — he’d said back then.

— Would be nice to test it, though — Matt chuckled, looking at a falling star.

And in the morning... Frank woke up in the body. A body with slender fingers, soft skin, and breasts that were impossible not to notice. Or feel. Especially when they touched the cool sheet, or bounced unexpectedly with every step.

Lucy was the second person Frank managed to convince after Matt — and she was the harder one. But soon, even she realized that as crazy as it sounded, it was all real. And over time, she stopped being just his girlfriend — and became his best friend. Lucy’s orientation hadn’t changed, and it was tough for her to see that same loud, stubborn Frank in this cute face and soft body — the same Frank who used to piss her off with his scattered socks and poorly timed jokes about her boobs. Now, all of that seemed... weird. Too cute, too girly. Although Lucy mostly blamed herself for that — her lessons for Sandra had clearly worked, and sometimes she even caught herself forgetting who was standing in front of her. Sandra was already walking, talking, even blinking like a real girl. Even if she still didn’t quite realize it herself — and sometimes slipped up, just like now.

— Alright, little witch — Lucy finally exhaled, stepping closer. — Down to business. I need you to cover for me with Mrs. Royce. Her kid’s got a fever again, and I’ve got a meeting tonight. Well... unofficially important.

— What do you mean, a meeting? — Sandra sat up a little straighter, her breasts giving a slight bounce under the shirt, and she instantly felt a hot wave rush to her cheeks. — You’re going... on a date?

Part 3

Lucy tilted her head and gave an innocent smile.

— Oh? Jealous much? — Lucy smirked, taking another step forward until she was practically towering over the seated Sandra, looking her straight in the eyes.

Sandra flinched slightly, like her skin had heard the words before her ears did. She bit her lip and looked away. Of course not. Or... maybe yes? She didn’t even know anymore. Everything had gotten so complicated over the past few months, and both girls clearly understood they didn’t attract each other as sexual partners, despite their past.

— I... no... I mean... — her voice came out much quieter than she’d hoped. — I just didn’t expect it. You never... I mean... you didn’t go on dates. And we haven’t... I mean, we kinda... never really... broke up.

Lucy froze for a second, then let out a short chuckle and tilted her head back slightly.

— Are you serious right now? — there was a smirk in her voice, but her eyes lit up with curiosity. — Sandra... you woke up in a body with C-cup tits, a perky ass, and the sweetest eyes ever. We’ve been living together like besties for almost half a year now. I explain to you every single day how to properly fasten a bra, and you still think we... “haven’t broken up”?

Sandra looked down, her fingers instinctively reaching for a button on her shirt. The movement made the fabric stretch tighter, and there it was again — that sensation of her boobs weighing heavier, and the bra feeling like some constant, unnecessary reminder of who she was now.

— And... who is it? — she finally managed to ask.

Lucy tilted her head slightly to the side and held a pause. Almost theatrically.

— No one important — she said with a hint of mockery, and then, as if on purpose, added: — Just a cute barista from the corner coffee shop. Really sweet. If it works out, we might get free coffee in the mornings.

Sandra froze. Her eyes, which had just been scanning the floor and the worn pages of the book, were now staring into empty space. Something clicked inside her — and then a sharp, almost invisible wave of shame washed over her.

— I see — Sandra whispered. She slowly got up from the chair, avoiding Lucy’s gaze, and absentmindedly smoothed down the hem of her short skirt. The movement was awkward — too feminine, too... natural.

She took a step to the side, but stopped immediately when she heard:

— Hey — Lucy’s voice came out sharper. — So what about Mrs. Royce? Can I count on you?

Sandra stopped. Inhale. Exhale.

— You seriously want me to babysit some woman’s kid — the woman you work for — while you go on a date? — Sandra’s voice was a bit louder than she’d meant, echoing through the rows of shelves. A couple of heads turned in their direction. She quickly lowered her voice, almost whispering now, suddenly realizing what Lucy was asking her: — Hold on... babysit a kid? Me? Like a nanny? I’ve never done that and I’m still a guy, goddammit! That’s just... come on, seriously?

Part 4

— Sandra, shhh! — Lucy immediately leaned in and pressed a finger to her lips. — Library! Do you want the whole place to hear you?

Sandra jerked back, but instantly felt her boobs bounce from the movement. She held her breath — that weight, that softness, that constant reminder of her new body hit her again.

— God, I can’t... — she hissed. — You’re asking me to be... some lady with a kid. While you...

— While I’m possibly starting a new romantic chapter in my life — Lucy finished without blinking, crossing her arms and tilting her head slightly. — Yes, exactly. And you, dear Sandra, as my best friend and, sorry to say it, ex-boyfriend, could help me out just this once, considering all the shit I’ve already done for you these past six months.

Sandra opened her mouth but said nothing. Everything inside her was bubbling — with frustration and shame. That feeling again — like she was being pushed into something way too girly, too soft, too unmanly. She almost screamed, but instead looked down — her skirt had ridden up a bit when she stood, showing way too much thigh. Instinctively — again — she tugged the fabric down.

— Kevin, by the way, falls asleep real quick if you put on a cartoon and scratch him behind the ear — Lucy leaned in slightly, like she was sharing a secret. — And… if you want, you can ask Matt to come over. He’s kinda good with kids. Especially the ones who love Legos and toy cars.

Sandra shot her a sharp look, eyebrows shooting up.

— Matt? Why the hell would I... — she started, but stopped mid-sentence because something jabbed weirdly in her stomach. Not even at the mention of Matt — but at the way Lucy said it. Between the lines. With a hint.

— Just thought of it — Lucy continued casually, pretending to dig around in her bag. — He’s... you know, into you.

— Into me? — Sandra choked on her own breath. — Are you out of your...

— Yep. Totally obvious. Don’t you notice the way he looks at you? — Lucy looked up, and that smile — that damned sparkly smile — was there again, the one that always made Sandra want to either curse or hide.

— He’s just… just awkward. We... we know each other too well. It’s... weird — Sandra dropped back down onto the edge of the chair, locking her hands on her knees.

— Uh-huh, real awkward. Like when he randomly gives you a limited edition Led Zeppelin vinyl — Lucy continued, raising an eyebrow with mock amusement. — One of only a hundred in the world. Which he supposedly “found” in his basement. By accident. Sure.

Sandra closed her eyes for a moment, like trying to shut the whole thing out. But her red ears gave her away completely.

Part 5

— He’s just... just a friend — she exhaled. — And he didn’t give me anything... he just... let me listen to it.

— Just let you listen to it? — Lucy repeated with fake surprise. — And that little velvet box — did you imagine that part? Or did he just “happen” to find it next to the record?

Sandra nearly groaned — not this. Anything but this. Remembering how she opened the gift while sitting on the couch in those stupid pajamas with pink teddy bears (not her choice, by the way — Lucy insisted on it, “so you could feel it properly”), and how her fingers involuntarily trembled at the touch of the velvet... That was too much. And now that memory of the way he looked at her — when she gently pulled the record out — with that unbearably warm smile.

— Maybe he just... cares — she muttered, still looking away.

— Cares, huh? That’s why he sends you texts with heart emojis. Every night. What a thoughtful buddy. — Lucy dragged out the word buddy so much it made Sandra flinch. — Has he once invited you to, I don’t know, a football game since the transformation?

Sandra pressed her lips together.

— No...

— Or to the bar? To get drunk? Talk about chicks?

— Lucy!

— Exactly. And you know why? Because he doesn’t see you as a bro anymore. To him, you’re a girl. A very cute one, actually. And it looks like he might’ve won that argument of yours after all — Lucy finished, locking her gaze on Sandra.

Sandra turned her head sharply, like that look made the air even harder to breathe.

— This is all his fault... — Sandra whispered, barely believing she said it out loud.

Lucy immediately snorted.

— Yeah, sure. I don’t know what exactly went down that night and who wished what. But go ahead, tell me it’s his fault that now you spend thirty damn minutes before going out deciding between a skirt or jeans. Did he dress you in that cute little top today too?

Sandra lit up like a bulb.

— Enough already. What time do I need to be at your Mrs. Royce’s place?

Part 6

Lucy broke into a satisfied smile, like that was exactly the answer she’d been aiming for. She glanced at her watch with theatrical deliberation.

— In forty minutes. You’ll make it. Her place is nearby — I’ll send you the address. — She paused for a second, then nodded toward Sandra’s phone. — And yeah, wear something... well, more “nanny-ish.” I don’t want Kevin asking questions about high heels and your “magical hair.”

— I’m... not even wearing heels — Sandra muttered, glancing down instinctively, realizing she was still barefoot and her shoes were standing right there beside her.

— Exactly — Lucy smirked. — Imagine if you left your shoes here, daydreaming about Matt. And... thanks. Really.

Sandra sighed, not bothering to argue anymore. Her head still echoed with the words “magical hair,” “girl,” and Matt. Especially Matt. For some reason, even just hearing his name brought that weird, aching feeling. Like something delicate deep inside her was starting to crack.

— I’ll stop by before I head out, grab... — she hesitated. — Something that fits. I dunno, maybe that bunny sweater. It’s... kinda cozy.

— Oh yeah. The one Matt “accidentally” dropped into your cart at the store? — Lucy added with a grin, winking. — Yeah, perfect choice.

— That was an accident! — Sandra grumbled, but her voice came out way too whiny for anyone to actually believe her. Not even herself.

She slipped on her shoes, stood up, stretched — and immediately felt her breasts tug slightly forward, softly jiggling inside the bra. Her body reminded her again that it didn’t matter how she felt inside — from the outside, she was all girl now. The girly clothes, the endless habits, and Lucy herself, who seemed determined to sculpt the girl out of her, day after day. Even her walk, as she headed for the exit, betrayed it.

‘A nanny, huh... fucking perfect,’ Sandra smirked to herself, her lips curling into a wry smile at the mental image of herself in that role.