You've already learned, after only fifteen years of life, that the unexpected rarely announces its arrival with fanfare. It cuts straight to chase, shattering normal routine and playing with emotions, making a game of pain, surprise and discomfort. The lesson drove itself home particularly when your dad left five years earlier, and since then you made sure to remind yourself that similar life-changers can occur at any time and without provocation.
But nothing prepared you for what has happened in the span of ten seconds, since you lazily thought, Being another person would be fun, through the startling black-out and the menacing whisper in your ear - "From now on, you will understand Samantha Newport inside and out... forever!" and ending with the abrupt return to consciousness. And here you are, out of the pool on a nearby blanket, no longer wet but all dry and baked by the sun, your vision a mess of cascading, blonde curls, the new, peculiar physique containing your mind itself restrained by a red pair of satin fabric. The lower half presses against emptiness and emphasizes a lack you've never felt before, and the other half holds your new, supple breasts. Lying on your back, you can't feel their heaviness, but you know as soon as you get up gravity will push down and you might topple over into the water.
For that reason, as well as shock and your inability to process the event, your failure to rationalize the innocence of the day--the people around you keep laughing and splashing, unaware of the magic in their midst--with the obvious reality you've been thrust into. If the voice spoke correctly you are now Samantha Newport, a senior at your high school, near the top of her class and divided between countless activities: newspaper, volleyball, jazz, drama, the list goes on and on. You have no desire to confirm this transformation further, with a mirror or whatever, so you lay there, eyes closed, pretending you're still in a dream.
This could go on all day, you think, but even misfortune has a schedule to keep. After at least another minute, a pair of wet, smacking footsteps--straight from the pool--approach and nudge your shoulder.
"Samantha." a voice says. "Come on. We should go back now."
You open your eyes. Right above you, blocking the sun, is....
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