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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...