"Grant" / "Sophie": Putting things back together

I'll start by saying I put both of my names in quotation marks up there because neither of them feels like they belong to me. The person who was most recently "Grant" has already returned to the Inn and gotten his life back... leaving my old body in limbo. I opted not to pick it back up for personal reasons, partly because I was lied to about my own background, and wherever I go next, it can't be backwards. But you knew that. I think that whoever becomes Grant... look, there's worse things than being a slightly awkward young white male in America. They'll cope. My plan is to go back later in the summer. I've got a reservation for late July. The original Sophie managed to modify her plans to go along with this. We're (knock on wood) set.

I've enjoyed being Sophie. I look at the woman in the mirror and I like her. I like dressing as her, wearing make-up as her. I like waiting tables as her, even if it's not always a picnic. Being a girl with a few extra pounds, especially one with a punky look, you get hit on by a lot of suspect guys who assume that just because you're not a 5'10 skinny-legged goddess you are desperate for anyone's attention. Living her life - not just dropping out of it and doing my own thing, but taking up some of her hobbies and social circle, has been really opened me up in a way that my buttoned-down life as Grant never could. I wish I had had more romance, but as Cal found out, that just doesn't work with our lifestyle. My experiences were... not as traumatic as his, but they were disappointing all the same.

But I know I can't keep it. It was a rental, and I assume my next one will be, too. Unless something unthinkable happens, or someone reaches a similar conclusion as me, I might be in for a long life of bouncing around, seat-filler in other peoples' existences. And I'm fine with that. I want to see the world, and not just other locations, but other lives. I have actively gotten excited for this journey since I decided it was how I was going to play this.

And then there's James.

Just as they were all gearing up to go back, James got struck with a bout of appendicitis. Really nasty, from what I heard, and he was rushed into emergency surgery. He's fine now, but he won't be traveling for a while. That leaves the fate of his body, as well as Keisha's, up in the air.

I went to see him at his apartment, because I figured he could use a cheering-up.

"Thought about what you're gonna do next?"

"Yeah, I thought about staying," he said, lying under a blanket, "Just saying, sorry, maybe next year... like, who cares if Keisha's pissed, I'm the one who's really getting screwed. But I don't wanna. I hate it here."

"It's not so bad..." I started to say.

"It's not bad when you got friends," he interrupted sharply, "You, Derek, Trish... even Cal, it was fuckin fun hanging out with you guys all year. Yeah, we got into some shit we shouldn't have... but it was cool. Without you guys? I'm just some asshole in a chick's body without any friends. All of Keisha's friends are gonna hate me. Mona, Robbie..." He started to get choked up.

"Yeah, I know that feeling," I said. Maybe I don't exactly, but I felt my entire life that nobody liked me because nobody knew who I really was. As it turns out, it was because I didn't know who I really was. I still don't. Sorry, this isn't about me.

I wrapped my arms around her and she rested her head on my chest. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Your boobs are like pillows," he said looking up at me with a cute little smile.

"Thanks," I blushed. "We're having a moment, don't ruin it."

We ended up having a pretty good hang-out session. The next day I rang up the booking agency and tried to see if there were any vacancies left for my week. I think it's far enough out that he'll be clear for travel.

Grant/Sophie: Never look back

Hey guys. I haven't posted on here for myself here, but I guess you know me a bit. My name was Grant, but right now it's Sophie.

I don't really know what it'll be next.

Going back to the beginning, I'll admit, I was shocked, horrified, scared, sad when we woke up transformed. I didn't understand what had happened any more than the rest of them, I didn't want it. I didn't want this. I was a gangly and uninteresting looking guy one night, and I woke up as a short, curvy, even voluptous, tattooed girl.

If I could forget the person in the mirror was me, I would think she was incredibly cool.

Like the rest of them I went along, shellshocked, behaving myself. Then I wore this body around a bit and I started to like it. None of the others wanted to hear it so I kept my mouth shut, and didn't post on here ever. I went to work as a waitress and found myself earning tips by smiling at guys, wearing lip gloss, leaning over and letting them peer down my top. What did I care? They weren't my tits really. What did I have to feel modest about? And sure, I got hit on, but most girls in the service industry learn how to play it off and never feel threatened. I liked it.

Then one night I overheard some guys at the bar whispering about me and the friend. "Okay, you can take the hot one, I'll take the fat one." When the guys came over to the table, I learned the "fat one" was me. I may not be a twig, but... I cried myself to sleep that night.

It was weeks later that I met Marco, at a punk show I went to with Sophie's friends. It took me forever to believe him when he told me I was beautiful. I'm still not sure I agree or that I appreciate it, but I liked him fine, so I didn't tell him to get lost. I gave him my number.

We dated for a while. And at first it freaked me out how much I liked it. He towers over me, and he's husky, and bearded and tattooed, and I couldn't figure out where the thrill of being with him was coming from. But it felt right and more than that... it felt familiar.

So one night, as I was lying up in bed, his arms around me, feeling his breath on me, I tried to remember back, back, back in my life. And I realized that more than just this was familiar... more than just being the little spoon or being potentially in love. Something about the nerves that come with being someone else. Something about the lie. Something about Maine.

So I talked to the "new me." I asked him to do me a favour and ask my parents if they knew anything about Maine.

It turned out they knew a fair bit about it. We'd been there as a family when I was 3 years old. At least, I was 3 years old when we left. Before that, they didn't even know who I was or where I came from.

I... I hated being myself. I hated being Grant, I mean. I walked around in a cloud for years feeling there was something off about my world. I didn't relate to anyone my age. My parents didn't seem to want me around. I was lonely and depressed and I hated everything in that life.

And I haven't lately.

Sure, I cried my eyes out. I freaked out. I stopped texting Marco back and basically ruined things with him because my world suddenly disintegrated, vanished like it was never there to begin with. I was nobody. At least, I have no idea who I was. My brain seems to have suppressed whatever my identity was before I was made into Grant, and my "parents" have no clue. But that realization was healthy.

I decided I can never go back there. Back to Lowell, back to being Grant. It would be unthinkable, selfish and dumb to think I could keep being Sophie. This life belongs to someone else, and as much as I've done with it, since being here, it won't be mine soon. I've told the new Grant to do whatever he wants, it's no concern of mine anymore. I just don't want him to think he owes me my life back, because it wasn't that.

Maybe I could be a guy again. I'm indifferent to that, but I feel like 15 years or so was plenty. I think I was a woman before. I think I would like to keep being one. But I don't know who to talk to about that.

So, to the mysterious people out there who read this, who make things happen, who help lost soul like me (or make us into them) I'm letting you know... I want whatever you can give me. I'll be a traveler, I'll join your agency, I'll do whatever you need. I just can't go backwards.

Keisha/James: Christmas and a bunch of other stuff

So I guess the last time I posted was right before my date with AJ.

I dunno what happened. I mean, I know what went on... we went out for drinks, it was kinda dumb, and at the end of the night he got a kiss and then I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to see him again. I just don't know what happened. I mean, I've seen this guy's penis, thanks to his very enthusiastic texting. And the part of me that's a chick could totally dseal with it, so I was ready. My idea going in was that I was gonna let this guy have it if he wanted it, and then I dunno... he didn't make much of a move and I was really okay with that.

It's weird. When I see guys now, I get this feeling... and it's not totally like when I would see hot girls when I was a guy. It's just this, like... warmth, and I don't mean downstairs, but inside. And then they start talking, and they're boring and dumb, and I'm just like "Dude, just be cool enough so that I can bring myself to nude up with you." But I think he blew it. It's hard to even say when. He just didn't do it for me.

So I ask myself, why do I bother? Because I'm bored of not being out there. That was how I lived, and it's how I still want to live. And I don't see myself getting into the girl-on-girl scene, so I tried to get okay with this real quick. I came this close and then something just totally deflated me. It's like... wanting to have sex with someone, and not wanting to have sex with them at the same time.

So I'm still on the lookout. Meanwhile, Derek and I are handling this apartment-switch thing, because they aren't seeing eye to eye over there after the robbery and Derek and I get along better anyway. Angie can have fun with my roommate, neat-freak Lindsay and her stupid boyfriend. She blew it.

She thinks it was some kinda conspiracy... maybe, but we can't figure it out. We figure it was probably the stolen keys, because there was no broken window or forced entry or anything, but we can't really get our heads around who is behind this or why. And I don't care. I'm just gonna watch my back from now on.

Then there was Christmas, which was a huge crazy thing. I avoided helping Keisha's mom cook anything, mainly babysitting and talking to some of the distant relatives. I mainly got gift cards for clothing stores because I want to choose more of my own clothes, because Keisha's wardrobe is frumpy as hell. I drank a whole bunch, which became a problem when I was helping Keisha's grandma get into the car, and we slipped on some ice... and I broke her fall. And that basically broke my wrist. Ow, fuck.

Trish/Robbie was there, and he offered to help, but I guess I thought hey, it's a one-man job, I can do it. I should've asked. But fuck it. I don't like feeling so weak. It was one moment.

All that's left now is to make some plans for new years. I was thinking of just doing a Lowell Crew thing, but things the way they are it could be awkward to get Derek and Cal together, plus I still kinda want to meet people. Maybe Sophie can hook me up.

James/Keisha: Night out

After I posted last weekend about wanting to go out every now and again I got a text from Grant - like immediately - asking if she could help me out.

For those of you who haven't been paying much attention, Grant became Sophie, the punky, curvy cute girl in this random mix of chicks. And then he disappeared. I mean, not literally, we had a pretty good idea where he/she was, and occasionally we'd let her know we were doing something and she'd come along, but we all figured she was super busy or else... well, I dunno, super into being Sophie.

It was a little of both. I don't know all the details, but Sophie has two jobs, one in an office and one as a waitress on weekends, and she has a pretty big circle of friends that bring her all sorts of places. She says to me "I thought, I could be like you guys and mope about the situation or I could take advantage and dive in."

So I say "Hey, I haven't exactly been moping. Drinking a little, but not moping. I'm ready for this girly shit. I just had nobody to hang out with."

I had no idea how much further along she was, though. When she showed up at my place she was in a strapless minidress under a badass leather jacket. When she removed it all of Sophie's tattoos were on display. No bra. She was quite a hottie. Girls haven't been doing much for me lately, but I had to at least stop and stare.

I was all set to dress in something similar but she stopped me. "You're not ready."

And I said "Fuck off, when we were guys I was the one who actually had a life."

And she says "Trust me, you are not ready for the kind of attention you get when you look like this." She tells me to wear a plain white tank top and a cardigan and jeans. Like, are we going to a club, or a library?

"Neither," she says, "We're going to a party. Don't dress like you're there to get laid unless you're actually there to get laid."

I looked at her cleavage, then back up at her face. She gave me a little nod. "Holy shit," I said. "You've got some secrets." Then she helped me do my makeup. "Don't overdo it, but don't do nothing."

On the way, I asked if this was okay to post on the blog, since I know she never posted on here, and she said she doesn't mind if everyone knows certain things, but she doesn't want to sit around writing about herself because thinking too hard about it hurts.

I kinda get that.

The party ended up being at some college guys' house that she met at a punk show. Some of the girls were dressed like her, but plenty were dressed like me. I walked around just kind of looking at how all the girls were and I suddenly got very freaked out. Pretty much every girl there was sitting or standing near a guy.

I started to get really nervous. Like, this was happening. I've been around guys as a girl, on the street or in a the store... and they're not always subtle about checking me out... but now I was in it with no safety net. This was down and dirty girlness.

I started to question why I even came. I reminded myself that as a guy I partied all the time, and I missed it. But almost literally the moment I got in there, I realized how different the situation was from what I was used to. I was suddenly thankful that Sophie got me to dress down.

I watched her. She got into "Sophie" mode immediately, of course, greeting the people she knew, introducing me around. She seemed happy and comfortable. Guys were leering right down her top when she wasn't looking (or maybe even when she could see, I know I didn't bother hiding it half the time.) And she just played it off like it was nothing. I found myself slouching, trying to lean against the wall or in a corner so people wouldn't look at me.

All the guys made me nervous. When I was a guy, if I compared myself to other guys, I'd say I was average sized, regular shoulders, tall but not too tall. As Keisha I am so small that even the "average size" guys kind of have to lean down to look at me.

I went over to the couch and sat down alone. Before I knew it, a guy sat right next to me and started chatting me up. I wanted to tell him to buzz off, but I didn't want to be rude. I was just suddenly not in the mood at all. And I know that when I was a guy, if a girl blew me off like that, it would have hurt.

He was fat. And not like "party animal athlete" fat, but just a regular, boring chubby guy. I took a look at him and realized that he probably approached me because most of the other girls at the party were too good for him and he knew it.

I used him as my shield. His name was AJ. I let him tell me about Canadian Football, which... I mean, I'm a lifelong Pats fan, but Keisha probably doesn't know anything about any football so I could play dumb and let him think I was interested. After forty minutes or so, he put his arm around me, and I took his wrist and put his hand on his own knee. "Hey, I'm sorry... it's not happening, man."

He got really annoyed and walked off, and then came back a while later. By this point I was talking to girls only. I don't think I give off a lesbian vibe or anything, but I'm getting good at "girl talk." I said that I was basically new in town (which is true) and I didn't know any good shops (also true) and talked fashion, which is admittedly kind of boring, but the fun part was getting to talk to girls about their favourite places to buy sexy underwear. And even though I couldn't get a boner right now if I wanted to, I made sure to bank that info away for later. I felt like I was really passing as one of them.

So AJ comes back and he's even drunker, and he starts apologizing and I say it's okay, I know guys do stuff like that, I'm just not that kind of girl. So he asks what kind of girl I am, and I say I don't know yet.

So he says "How about we go upstairs and find out?"

And I just started laughing. And I apologized but told him that just wasn't what I was looking for tonight. So he asked if he could get my number for when I am looking for that, and I still said no. Then he tried to give me his number in case I changed my mind, and... I took it, because it made him go away.

On the way home, Sophie and I slipped back into Grant and James and she asked me why I wanted to go out so bad when it was just smarter to stay at home and wait for this all to blow over.

I told her that sometimes, back in Mass, I used to speed at night. Run red lights. Whatever. Race, if I could. Just because I wanted to see the worst shit I could do and still live through it. Come as close as I could to totally wrecking myself. My life just doesn't feel like it's worth it if I'm not testing the limits. Then I became a girl and I got scared. Scared of my own shadow. Scared people would look at me and see a guy in girl's clothing, trapped in this body, so I didn't do anything. And I hated it. I wanted to run, but I can't. So I have to blast through it. I have to start speeding again, doing dangerous shit and seeing how far this goes. I don't let anyone tel me not to do something, I don't stay in bounds. Fuck that.

And she looked at me and shrugged and said "Yeah, but when you speed, you put other people's lives at risk too."

And I just said whatever because she missed the point.

So I've got AJ's number in my phone. And for the past few weeks, I've looked at it in my contacts and thought about running that red light.

James / Keisha: Alone with myself

I'm in my own personal hell right now. Not because I'm in a girl's body, mind you... I'm pretty OK with that a lot of the time. But nights like these I'm going outta my fuckin mind.

Start with the fact that I'm on my period. I'm not saying it hurts to move, but I am definitely not in a mood to do anything. So I decided I'd spend the night at home, in my sweats, with a movie. Maybe Die Hard or Taken or something. Then I find out that my dumbass roommate and her boyfriend are also spending the night in, which means they've taken the living room.

It's not like I'm stuck at home, but Derek, who is usually my lady-bro in these situations, works nights at the coffee shop. Cal is is a nice kid, but we don't always get along. Grant, or should I say "Sophie" (whoopdeedoo, she's the first one of us to start going by her new name permanently,) is MIA as usual. Roy is off seeing family for the Canadian holiday, plus we see enough of each other at work. That leaves Trish, who I think hates me.

But honestly, I don't feel like seeing anyone right now, not in the doubled-over-in-pain state I'm in... except that all these hormones are making me lonely as hell so that I'm practically crying for no good reason... and here's a wonderful fact you might like to know... I'm horny. Like, super horny!

I can't explain it, and I wish it weren't the case, but I can totally tell that Keisha's body is pushing me to go get laid. It's a period thing, I've read up on it. It's totally scientific. Some women just get super DTF on their periods.

Now, I'm doing an okay job taking care of myself... seriously, at this point, it's basically all I do all day, but I don't think I'm really getting the job done. It's like feeling like you have to sneeze, but the sneeze never comes. No matter how hard I rub, the genie never comes out, so I get tired and quit.

Right now, I am not open to the idea of involving an object, or another person. Nothing goes in there that isn't already part of me, or a tampon.

But I'm getting really confused. Like, I'm as straight as they get, as a dude. I love pussy, and the fact that I've been paying so much attention to my own should attest to that. But everything's all flip-flopped around in my head right now, where I could almost, almost see myself caving in and giving a dude a throw. But I don't want any guys seeing me naked or touching me. The idea makes me cringe.

It's just that... I don't respond much to girls, either, anymore. Like, I'll see a hot chick in the store and for a second I'll check out her cleavage, and then I'll think "God, what an attention whore." Like.. no shit, I'm glad to give her attention, or at least normally I would be.  But suddenly I'll look at girls that I would have hit on in my real body, and I'll just think, "I don't approve of you." And I hate that.

So that's how I'm in hell. I want all the sex, but I don't want any of it. I just want to want it the way I'm used to it, but my body has other ideas. Bad, bad ideas.

Trish / Robbie: Beach day

Our lives are utterly insane. A few months ago we were just normal teenagers. Most of us were going to college in the fall. Now it's September and I have this anxiety in my chest because I feel like I should be going to school. All that preparation I was expecting to do, registering for classes, buying textbooks, moving out of my parents house I do not have to do. I don't have to do anything, except find a new job.

Robbie's job painting houses officially ended last week. It was bittersweet. I was okay at the work but I didn't love it. I didn't find it stimulating or anything. Some of the crew were the exact sorts of obnoxious jerks that used to hit on me regularly at parties, except now they were trying to drag me to parties to hit on girls.

I did go out a few times with them, against my better judgment, sitting quietly at the bar while they struck out time and again at the club. I'll admit, it would've been nice to get "into" the spirit of things and join the dancefloor, but I feel so gangly and awkward as a man. I'm not sure how men are supposed to dance, even though I've never believe them when they told me "guys don't dance." I've seen them do it. I just don't like how they do.

The girls are another thing. It's amazing to watch these girls just cut loose. I wish I could be like that, or if I could have when I was a girl. Right now, I've decided, I'm nothing.

Which is to say, please don't read too deeply into it when I say the one member of the crew I'll miss is the only girl I worked with, Lauren. She is blonde and short and quite cute, and she probably has a better sense of humor than I do, to be able to put up with the guys ogling her.

She asked me, on our last day working together, what I was planning on doing for the fall. I said I had no plans. I'm not going back to school. I don't have a new job lined up yet. I can scrape by for a little bit on savings.

She said it would be a shame if we never saw each other again, and said to keep in touch if I ever wanted to hang out at her University campus. (It's weird the way Canadians say "University" the way we say "College." They say "College" when they talk about community college.) I thought it might be nice to have a female friend who isn't secretly a boy.

Speaking of the boy-girls, we had one little meetup to celebrate the end of summer. Vancouver has a few really great beaches and I managed to get them all to come along, basically daring them to wear swimsuits. It took a lot of convincing.

James was the easiest to convince, of course. Out of the three, he is the least skittish about "flaunting" it. Which I'm a bit uncomfortable with, because with Keisha being "my" sister, I kind of feel that level of brotherly familiarity with her.

Cal and Derek came too, wearing their swimsuits under shorts and tees in case they felt too embarrassed. However, I think being in a crowd of hot (and not) girls and guys in swimwear gave them a bit of confidence. Cal wore a red bikini that fell loosely over his slim little body. Derek wore a black one-piece, which seemed modest, but actually highlighted his curves. Compared to those other two, he's a goddess. Now, it's obvious that he's let Mona's body "go" a little bit through inactivity and overeating, but the girl is still hot.

However, the real surprise was Grant, who none of us has had much contact with since we got here. He's been kind of a recluse and we were all starting to worry (although when texted, he does reply quickly.) Grant's "host" body, Sophie, is a bit of a bombshell in her own way... short, but curvacious in just the right way (big hips and butt) and quite bosomy. He was spilling out of his strapless bikini top like it was no big deal.


For my part, I wore baggy shorts - guys' swimwear is so boring and functional, like everything about them.

This weekend was the most fun I've had with these guys. They let their guards down just a little bit. I kept my eye on them to see which beachgoers turned their heads, and while they definitely paid attention to the other girls, I saw some glances cast at guys, too... quickly and embarrassedly. Okay, I don't want to make them feel too awkward about it.

But really, is it such a crime? If what Roy has said is true, that's basically how these bodies are wired. It's just physical. It's just attraction. It's scary to let your body do the driving when it's taking you in an unfamiliar direction, but if that's what's going to happen, can we fight it? Are we just making ourselves miserable by not admitting that if, for example, if Robbie liked girls, then I might too now? The evidence is... pretty convincing.

But why does it have to be about who I like? It's not like I plan on doing anything, and I don't think the others are either. The only one I'm having "fun" with is myself, and I guarantee you three out of those four boys have done the same.

Well, the equivalent.

Callum: Keep Calm

I woke up to the sound of a couple of people hurrying out of the Inn, very noisily. Whoever it was, they were the ones who kept a low profile and didn't speak to anyone else in the halls. They knew this was going to happen and they didn't want to be around to see our reaction.

So my first thought was, "Oh, someone's being noisy, whatever," and roll over onto my side, and everything... moves differently. I feel weight shifting on my chest where it shouldn't. I feel hair under my face where it definitely wouldn't have been last night - like someone else's. I bolt up. The room won't stop spinning.

I'm sweating a little, I'm overheated. My clothes are pretty well hanging off me. Honestly, it didn't take long for me to guess what had happened to me, but I ruled it out because... it's impossible, right?

So all I could do when I sat up - pushed myself up with my arms because I was just too woozy - was look down at the way my t-shirt was being pushed out at the chest, feeling two heavy-ish weights hanging down. I put my hand on one... it was soft, and it was me, all right. I ran my other hand through my hair, finding the strands to be long, long past my shoulders. I gave them a slight tug. They were fully attached to my scalp. I was frozen with fear.

Then I heard a woman's voice call out. "Cal? Grant?" It was coming from James' room. I stumbled to the door. The whole room felt like it had grown overnight, but I guess in reality, I've shrunk.

I peeked out. I saw someone else peek out, too, from Grant's room. A girl I hadn't seen before. She was blonde, but I could just barely see in the dim light that she had streaks of pink in her short punky hair.

"Grant?" I said in a whisper.

She nodded and then asked back fearfully, "Cal?"

We both went for James' door. Inside were two women. One was sitting on the mattress, wrapped in a bedsheet. The other was standing over her, wearing a guy's clothes, Derek's from the size of them. The girl in the bedsheet was brown skinned, the girl in Derek's clothes was more of an orangey-tan, as well as tall and thin, so she was gripping her shorts tightly. Both looked at us expectantly. I muttered softly, "It's Callum. That's Grant." The girl in the bed was James, and standing over her was Derek, still wearing his own clothes even though they now fit very poorly.

We all just stood there in silence, waiting for one of us to admit what happened - we were transformed. But nobody wanted to say it. Everyone wanted to believe it was a hoax or a delusion but how could it be? Mostly we just stared back and forth at each other, looking at all these improbably good-looking women surrounding us.

A guy came by and clued us in - he identified himself as Mike. He was tall, or at least taller than I am now, and probably taller than I used to be (5'7.) He told us it was the Inn, that staying here had given us some kind of magic curse and turned us into whoever stayed in our rooms the week before. He did his best to sound reassuring, saying it was going to be okay, that the worst would be over soon. I felt some doubt at that.

He told us that the people we looked like... they were real people with lives that we would have to carry on, at least until we had another opportunity to come back to the Inn. I asked why we wouldn't just change back again if we stayed another night, and he said that's just how it works. He said there was probably luggage waiting for us, hopefully with notes, letters, maybe whole files about who we were supposed to be and instructions about what to do next.

I rushed back to my room and sure enough, in the closet I had neglected to open because there seemed to be no point, was a suitcase and a large carryon shoulderbag as well as a purse. I dumped to purse out to find my new "life" spelled out for me.

Her name is Angelica Monet. She's 21 years old and comes from Vancouver, Canada. That's the entire way across the continent, in a whole other country. I have lived in the same house since I was born. I pulled my head into my chest and shut my eyes and began to hyperventilate. There's no way I can do this, there's absolutely no way... but I look at my long, skinny arms and began to realize I had absolutely no say in the matter, and that kills me.

I tracked Mike down and began to ply him for details. He was whispering to his sister about something. I interrupted and asked why it had to be this way. Why couldn't I just go back to Lowell and ask my parents to believe me... tell them things only I would know. And he sighed, leaned against the wall and looked me in the eye... I felt so small, looking up at him.

He said that's just the way it has to be. The curse blocks others from... understanding, somehow. They will refuse it until they see it for themselves. That means that you can bluff your way through a new life easily, but attempts to tell the truth don't stick. I find that hard to believe, but if the curse can do this, then I guess I have to believe them.

I wanted to scream, but I knew it wasn't their fault. They said they knew it was going to happen eventually, but they had no idea who or what we would become, just that they had worked to return to their old selves. That gave me hope. They said they would have told me if they could, but they knew that was impossible, and I have to admit if someone said this would happen to me I wouldn't have even considered it possible.

Curse. I'm cursed. I'm transformed. I'm changed. I'm trying to wrap my head around it. It's been a day. Only a day, the first of many. I haven't eaten, I barely slept... I'm on my last nerve, and I doubt they're right that the worst is over but at least we know what's happening. Now we're all just looking back and forth at each other going... "what do we do now?"

When the excitement died down, I crawled back to bed and fell asleep, the gross sweat and odor of my former body caked into my clothes. I tried not to fixate on it. I just woke up and typed out what I remember. So here you go. Whoever you are, obviously you knew what was going to happen... I see from the blog url Mike and Lila gave me, Trish checked in late last night, I haven't heard from her since. I hope she's okay.

Trish

It's late, and I really just want to go to bed, but I had like three coffees on the way up here so that's not going to happen. When I got in, I found this flier on my floor so I thought I would maybe unwind by typing up the hectic story of how I got here. There was a raffle for the senior class at my school in Lowell, Massachusetts, for a trip up here. Of the four others, I only know James well, although I know Derek by reputation through some of the other girls at school, and I used to know Callum, when we were kids, but we are in somewhat different social groups. There's also the other guy, Grant, who I met for the first time at the planning session, but I've seen him around. He's just one of those guys that kinda fades into the background.

At that meeting, the guys... Derek in particular, but also James and Grant, looked at me like I was a piece of meat and I suddenly got a very uneasy feeling in my stomach. A week alone with these guys? I'd feel like I was being fed to the lions. So I told my mom I was feeling sick and couldn't handle the bus ride up there and she offered to drive me up if I was feeling better later in the week.

I was worried... and still am worried... that they have certain ideas about me, about what I'm willing to do or try, because I look a certain way, and I am outgoing and "popular." I'm popular because I'm nice and focussed and maybe, yes, because I take care of my appearance. But I'm also smarter than some people think, scored high on my SAT, planning to go to law school, was in the school government, was in the running to be valedictorian... I'm not like James the druggie, I'm not interested in Derek the meathead, and I have no idea about the other two. I've only drank twice - I'm the girl who helps the hose clean up the party after everyone else is passed out, and whatever I've done with boys, whether I was dating them or not, was always my choice. That doesn't mean I'm uptight, just picky about who I spend time with. I like to have fun, but on my terms. No offense to any of them.

The week went on and I was feeling guilty... it seemed like it could be a nice trip and I was foregoing it because I had some preconceptions about the boys that may or may not have been accurate. I don't think they're dangerous, I just didn't want to deal with what might happen if they were.

So here I am... tiptoeing into the inn after dark, hoping none of the guys are around to notice or care.

Nice place you've got here, by the way... I've been trying to get to sleep for an hour and I think the sheets are giving me a rash.

James

This place sucks, by the way. I talked to Cal after we got in last night and he said he sent you guys an email. He said they were looking for "the stories of the people staying here" so I'll tell ya.

Three of us went out last night, there was an all-ages show at a nearby bar so we checked it out. The band sucked and it was kinda crappy not to be able to drink but whatever. There were some hot girls there, and with the weather being so nice they weren't wearing a lot, so I thought we could chat em up. I thought I might've had a chance, and maybe could have convinced one of their friends to come back to the inn. Derek kinda ruined it by getting too aggressive and pissy when they didn't seem interested in him. Grant said nothing, just kinda sulked. The dude's an all right guy, but quiet, and definitely not what chicks are looking for. I tried to get him to come out of his shell a bit but he wasn't interested.

I didn't mind, anyway, it was just something to do. I've got a girl back home, not really a girlfriend, more like a FWB so we have an understanding about this kinda thing. She made it clear she's not interested in anything serious and neither am I so we have fun, and then we don't talk for days. I told her we can stop if she ever feels awkward about it but she doesn't seem to have a problem.

I kinda feel like I'm wasting my summer, but at least I did something by coming here. There's just not a lot to do. It feels so old school, like American Graffiti or some shit. Well, if it was American Graffiti we'd have a car and just drive around, but we're just sitting here watching DVDs on laptops and trying to convince any of the older people here to buy us booze. Can't wait till I'm 21.

Derek can't wait till Trish gets here. But if I know Trish, he doesn't have a chance so he shouldn't get his hopes up.

Callum

To the Trading Post, or whoever's at the other end of this Hotmail address,

Seeing as the others have seen fit to go off without me, not that we are really here "together" anyway, I figured I might as well respond to your request for feedback, because I'm bored on a Friday night... unsurprisingly, even on vacation.

A little context, first... my name's Callum Malloy, I'm 18, a high school graduate from Lowell, Mass, going to school this fall with the eventual plan of becoming a research scientist. Compared to the others, I'm pretty introverted and more school-oriented, I guess, which is why I'm here right now writing this and they're out there relentlessly - probably pointlessly - trying to meet girls. I haven't seen anyone around our age in this whole town, let alone near this Inn. Maybe a few college girls, but I really doubt three guys barely out of high school will have much of a chance with girls like that, and I feel like seeking out cougars is a lose-lose situation at this point in our lives.

We came to Maine from Lowell because our high school hosted a raffle for six tickets to Maine. The winners were me, James, Derek, the other guy whose name I think is Grant, and Trish. Except Trish didn't make the bus, so apparently she's coming later.

James is pretty cool. Everyone in our school knows him, and while I wouldn't say he's the "most popular guy," he definitely knows everyone, which is more than I can say for myself or Grant. Everyone likes him fine. He's very chill. Derek's a jock, kind of fat, really bad attitude. Grant I know absolutely nothing about, I didn't even recognize him from our school, but he's an all right guy. Just inoffensive. Trish I've known since kindergarten, although we've drifted apart so I wouldn't call her a "friend." She's... cool. If she ever gets here.

So that's what brought me here, and if you don't hear from the others, that's what brought them too.

As for what I think of this place, well, I think it sucks, but my parents thought it would be nice for me to "do something" the summer before college. I guess to prepare me for, if nothing else, life on my own. The beds are stiff, the place has an overly rustic feel to it, too old-fashioned for my taste... the wi-fi is unacceptably spotty. No food on site, which is just messed up, but it's close enough to the beach and there are plenty of restaurants along the boardwalk so it's a wash. The weather's been good. The company's been shit. That's all there is to say.