That morning, Ronno is generous enough to take me to get a new phone because River was in serious need of a shower, food, and sleep.
I dress in a pair of gray sweatpants and a red T-shirt that was once too big on me. I’m definitely going to have to buy new clothes today, because as is, I look like I got this stuff at Baby Gap.
At least my Converse still fit.
Two hundred bucks later (money I don’t have to spare), I’m telling myself it’s a necessity. My phone got crunched last night—found its remains in the parking lot—and Mom has probably texted me more than once. She loses it if I don’t respond right away, and the last thing I need is to worry her.
The new phone comes to life inside the store, and I’ve got eighty texts from River. Not good. When I get to Ronno’s car and start scrolling, I realize I haven’t managed to alter her fears about our “plan.”
“Our plan” consists of lying low and denying anything happened. We were never in that SUV. I only went to that party for an hour. After the fight, I left for the ER and went home. We will say nothing about what happened after she picked me up in the ER. Why? Because something is wrong with me.
Point one: I’m not a sci-fi freak. I don’t believe in magic, kryptonite, or radioactive super-spiders. I believe in facts and data. So why have I transformed? I have no clue. Not yet. But there has to be a logical, scientific reason.
Which leads to point two: That reason will likely be of interest to more than just me. I can think of a thousand different people and organizations that wouldn’t mind figuring out how I’ve gained fifty pounds of solid muscle and a monster cock in one night. If I go public, I’ll be locked up for either being crazy or to be experimented on. Denial is my friend.
Point three: I’ve secretly wished for this to happen all my life. I’ve always been smaller and weaker than the rest. As of today, that’s all history. I don’t know how it happened or why, but I seriously couldn’t give a crap. I feel the pulse of life in my veins. I feel like the part of me that was always missing has come home. Even my heart feels different. Bigger somehow.
The best thing about it is, I’m in a new place. Hardly anyone has met me yet, and if they have, they probably forgot about me five seconds later. The risk of anyone noticing I’m different is pretty low. Except for Blake and his bros.
But I have a plan. It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m paying a visit to my new friends. We need to have a little talk.
Doesn’t take long to figure out where Blake and his boys live. Their frat house is listed on the internet.
I’m still in my sweats and too-tight shirt, heading for the elevator, when a couple of girls pass me. They both smile and say hello, followed by giggles.
“Did you see the size of it?” one says.
I look down at my crotch. Yeah, this is not a modest look. The gray sweats are practically presenting my dick to the world.
I lift my chin. Maybe it’s a good thing, considering where I’m going. This super chicken has been transformed. Blake needs to know he shouldn’t mess with me.
I make my way down to the lobby, passing several more students. Almost everyone smiles and says “hi” or “wassup?” One guy even high-fives me. “How’s it hangin’, bro?” he says.
Okay. I get that I look and feel different, but I wasn’t expecting this. Girls checking me out? Guys practically saluting me? These are people I’ve never met.
I go outside, and it’s a warm, sunny afternoon. The birds are chirping. The trees and grass seem greener than usual. And wow, everything is so loud.
I start walking toward the frat house, which is all the way on the other side of campus, and I spot a cute girl sitting on the lawn beside the dorms. She and a bunch of her friends are in a circle, tossing around a little rope. There’s a brown puppy with white spots trying to catch it.
One of the other girls glimpses my way and stares like she’s seen a ghost. Or a giant doughnut she wants to eat? Whatever. She looks downright carnivorous.
I look away and keep on going.
Moments later, I hear a scream, “Baxter! No! Get back here!”
When I look over my shoulder, that puppy is running straight for the street. A bus is coming from the other direction, and the driver won’t see the furball between all the parked cars lining the curb.
You know how people say that when there’s a life-or-death situation, time slows to a crawl? I used to think that too. Seconds passing like minutes. The adrenaline flooding your brain, absorbing all the sights, smells, and movements around you. For one short second you’re pulling energy from an unknown place to heighten your senses. People have been known to lift cars or run into burning buildings, coming out completely unharmed by flames.
But me? Now? I blink, and there I am, standing in front of that bus, holding up the front end.
What the? I look to my right as the woman chasing the puppy stops and stares. The dog is all the way across the street now, running toward the lawn in front of the cafeteria.
I glance up to see the face of the bus driver gripping the steering wheel, her mouth gaping.
Oh shit. I carefully set the bus down and step out of the way. The traction of the front tires immediately kicks in, and the bus keeps going.
Once it passes, I notice the woman still standing on the other side of the street, staring at me.
I have no clue what just happened or how I did that. I mean, yeah, I know what River said I did last night—blasting out of the water and knocking those guys to the ground—but I figured it was her imagination. It was dark out. She was in shock.
And she was right. I just lifted a fucking bus. I didn’t decide to do it. I didn’t even think about it. I just…did it.
I’m going to pass out. Or maybe not. I’m breathing just fine. My lungs are filled with fresh clean air. I’m not hyperventilating. But I always hyperventilate and pass out when I stress.
I’m suddenly less concerned about Blake and his bros. I’ll deal with them later. Right now, I need to figure out what happened to me. I’m not entirely in control of my body.