This is almost certainly a bad idea, but it's too late to turn back now, and if I didn't do it, I'd be second-guessing myself for the rest of my life, but, Jesus, it seems like a crazy leap.
It makes a little more sense if you know a bit about what I left out of the last update. We were "just being friends", but we kind of played at being more. Not by getting all syrupy in public or anything, but whenever something would strike as kind of ironic or funny considering our situation, we'd break out some exaggerated way of talking, with me playing the boyfriend half the time. It was a joke, but it was also a way to accept that we were in a weird situation.
So, Tuesday, it's hot as hell in New York, enough that J.T. had actually mentioned that he missed booty shorts and a halter top being a viable outfit for him, and I decided, what the heck, only a few days of this left, and if anyone got a picture, it wouldn't stick to me. That's kind of the funny thing about being turned into your girlfriend - it's actually not hard to make yourself all sexy in the mirror, even if you do wind up thinking that it's kind of a weird power trip at times, but stepping out the door is maybe twice as hard, because you've got both "do I want guys looking at me like that?" and "do I want guys looking at my woman like that?" going around your head. But, it was hot, and I didn't want J.T. or Pete to think I'd chickened out.
Pete wasn't pay off the group Tuesday night, so I didn't have him to measure my drinks against (I've gotten into the habit of staying even or one drink behind him, since he's smaller and thinner than Elaine as Brigette), and it, uh, enhanced the "singer's girlfriend" thing I was doing, so I wound up shooting "that was awesome baby!" (or, later, "woooooooooo!") rather than kind of saying it to myself. J.T. wound up playing along, pointing at me the first time and comically rolling his eyes by the end.
Eventually, the gig ended, and I helped him move his gear to the car. He hoped that the only thing missing from that was him inviting me up on stage. I laugh, saying there were photographers and phones and Elaine didn't need to deal with any of that shit. He nods, but says it's too bad, because he knows I've got the pipes for it.
It's hard to be modest, because I'd certainly complimented him when he had those pipes, and meant it. But... "Karaoke with friends is different than a stage in front of strangers. Besides, those were y'all's songs, not mine."
"But you're a big part of them."
I didn't know what to say. We'd arrived at his place, and I grabbed the guitar and mic stand while he picked up the amp. We rode the escalator in silence, up to the tenth floor. He unlocked it and I walked in, giving it a good look. "So this is where you live in your real life."
It was nice, bigger than Brigette's, though not huge. There were a couple awards on a mantel, a full-size keyboard, and a separate dining area, all fairly tidy. I wondered how much dust had gathered while he was Elaine.
"Yep, this is me, although it's just starting to feel like home again. And kind of plain." He reached into the fridge and handed me a beer.
"It's nice. Not much of my Elaine in it, though. Or would that be your Elaine?"
"Yeah, I didn't keep any souvenirs. Maybe I should have. But until you showed up, I just..." He trailed off, and then pointed at a blank space on the wall. "Heck, I used to have a Josephine-Baker-in-Paris print over there, but I was having a hard time looking at it. Made me remember and wonder what if."
I used the corner of my top to twist the off my bottle and took a swig before walking out onto the balcony. "I should certainly hope you wondered what if. I thought we had something special."
He walked up behind me. "We did. I told you things that I never told anybody else, and they were true, even if the facts weren't."
I laughed. "So, basically, your parents pushed you into acting rather than math?"
"Pretty much. Figured I'd have become a huge adult star by now, just like Wil Wheaton, Macauley Culkin, and Haley Joel Osment."
I snort-laughed. "Obviously, you should have turned into a girl much earlier. There's Jodie Foster, Dakota Fanning, Christina Ricci..."
"Don't think they wouldn't have considered it. Kind of glad to be a man right now, though."
He put his hands on my shoulders, then kissed the base of my neck, and I felt my temperature go up. "What're you doing?"
"Kissing my girlfriend. Or maybe kissing my ex-boyfriend. Do you like it?"
"Mm-hmm. Of course I like it. You're cheating, already knowing where it feels good."
"I suppose so." His hands slid down my sides until they reached my midriff, then moved up underneath my top to cradle my breasts, gently stroking them with his thumb while each nipple rested between two fingers. I gasped and made a half-step back, enough that I could feel him hardening when the small of my back made contact with his pelvis. His teeth found the knot keeping my top on and disengaged it just slowly enough to build some anticipation, giving my brain just enough time to start working the buckle on my shorts.
We turned around and went back into the apartment as a unit; he instinctively knew I wasn't quite ready to be looking in a man's face while doing this yet. Once I had pulled my shorts and panties down and planted my hands on an end table or something, he let go of one breast to work his own belt and zipper, then guided himself in from behind. I moaned as he found my spot again and again, gently thrusting the tip of his unit over it, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I felt something let go inside me as I came, and then he seemed to swell a bit more.
"Hang on," he said, pulling out of me and opening his wallet to find a rubber. I didn't realize that's what he was doing, though, so I turned around, and I see his face go from being a little stained at holding back to being concerned that he'd upset me. Something lightens in my chest and I say "put it on". He does, and I guide him to the corner of the sofa. I sit him down and then lower myself onto him, kissing him and then trying to find the rright rhythm as I moved up and down, thinking how is liked it when the roles were reversed, right down to his face in my rack.
It doesn't take him long to come, and he slumps back, spent. I roll off of him and adopt a similar posture next to him, looking up at the ceiling. "Well, fuck."
He looked concerned again. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, and that's the problem. Right up until you, you know, got in there, I figured it would feel wrong, but it didn't and you were so nice, and now I know we've got something good. But it's not like I can just steal Elaine's life!" He shook his head in agreement and we had kind of a sad cuddle.
I must have fallen asleep there, because when I woke up I was in his bed and he was making waffles. I figured we'd burned enough calories that Elaine wouldn't mind. Despite all we'd done last night, it felt a little strange to kiss him before leaving to go back to Pete's place and get changed.
Pete was there and waiting for gossip. I told him it had happened and was not what I expected, and he removed me that women always share details. Fortunately, it was interrupted by a call from my own phone, telling me that he knew I must have gotten nervous by now, but there were more than enough people arriving at the Inn to change back tonight.
"That's good, that there are more than enough." I took a deep breath. "So, ______, you've been enjoying my life, right?"
"Yeah, man, and so's my girlfriend, if you know what I mean! Heck, I'm actually kind of jealous of the job I landed for you."
"Good. How would you like to do the full year?"
Pete's eyes billed as my voice on the other end of the phone stammered. "What, dude, I was kidding! Just because I said it would be weird to go home to a family of strangers... and you'd be stuck as a chick--"
"I know, it's just it turns out I've got something to see through."
"If you say so." He tried to sound reluctant, but there was some relief in his voice. He hadn't really been thrilled with the luggage he'd found in his room, even if he had been willing to help someone else get back to normal.
"All right, man. I don't get it, but all right."
We said goodbye and hung up, and Pete exploded. "Are you crazy? This is--" He didn't have words.
I shrugged. "He may be The One."
He shook his head. "That is one severe case of estrogen poisoning you've got there. I can't even." He was even more dumbfounded when I told him the whole plan.
Contrary to what you might expect, J.T. and I went our separate ways after the fireworks; that night was special and not to be repeated as such. I slept at Pete's, and then got on a train to Old Orchard.
Pete was right about my head kind of overflowing with female hormones, and although I had certainly been asking for the ride, I also knew that there were a lot of people out there whose experience with the Inn does not exactly suggest that everything happens for a reason (or at least, not an obviously positive one). But I certainly can't deny that it certainly feels like things have come together for me and J.T. in an unlikely-enough way that is hard not to talk about destiny.
So we're putting it in fate's hands. I go to the Inn and get turned into another man, or a lesbian, or a kid, and it's not meant to be. But if I stay Elaine, or become another woman, and there's still a spark... Well, it's tough to argue with that.
So far, no change, and no luggage in my room, obviously. But I've got a good feeling about this. It didn't all happen for nothing.