578Raised By Wolves
Begin the Transformation
Alexandra's Point of View
I have all the luck in the world, don't I? Let alone the fact I get to venture off into an all boys school—as a boy, mind you—but my brothers are just incredibly fantastic, don't you think? (Note: the sarcasm couldn't possibly be more obvious)
"Tell me. Now." Now they decide to keep their inferior mouths shut?! It's no wonder I sometimes feel compelled to shove chairs down their throats. Like the time Devon 'accidentally' went through my laundry and confronted me about a certain set of undergarments.
That wasn't embarrassing, at all. And you wonder why I overuse the word 'damn'.
"Guys!" I shouted, they all sprang back in their seats. I let out a long breath. "We just went over this. You can't hide everything from me!" I watched them and awaited my answer. Apparently they short-term memory loss. I let a growl erupt from the back of my throat.
"Fine." Aaron forfeited. "We couldn't send in your report cards—because you're female—so along with some of your assignments and tests—we changed Alexandra to Alexander—we sent in some of your written music. And a…" He completed the sentence unintelligibly.
"What was that last part?" I asked.
"A…" More grumbling.
"One more time." He exhaled sharply.
"A CD with a few of your solo works." I did a double take and blinked.
"Are you telling me…you recorded me playing…then put it on a CD and sent it out?" I'll admit, if I hadn't been the one speaking…I probably would've been scared shitless. Like my identical twits-for-brothers. Michael chewed on his bottom lip.
"Maybe." He said softly. My jaw dropped just as the door opened and two people stepped in.
"I can't believe you guys!" I shouted just as the two people began to haul me out the door. "You imbeciles! You'd think you would tell me I got a scholarship because of that! Mother f—" Cue door slam.
"I don't know why you're being so prissy. You'll be surrounded by guys." Shut up, Candy. Of course, it works better saying it out loud; but the last time I tried speaking my unfinished word was completed. Many times.
"Yeah, except it won't matter because I'll be a God-forsaken guy!" I snapped. Sure, it was a…tad pessimistic; but there was no need for censorship! That's a plus. Unlike my last sentence—which, admittedly, was a smidgen incoherent. Or, you know, a few smidgens.
i.e. 'Those (censored) idiots (censored) actually (censored) sent out a (censored) CD without my (censored) consent; (censored & blurred out)!'
I daresay you may fill in the blanks. Colourful, ain't it?
"Oh, c'mon, Alex. It could be fun." I glared at Dahlia.
"Bite me, you optimistic prick." Dahlia laughed. I don't blame her; I've never heard of an optimistic prick, either. We were currently walking through the less than mediocre Trent Valley Mall. So, was I surprised when I group of shallow minded scum all gave Dahlia their undivided attention? Nope; not at all.
Was I even jealous in the least bit? No answer.
Though, the term 'no answer' clearly states that I am; but only a bit. Don't get me wrong, I'm not hypocritical, I really don't enjoy the limelight; what I envy is the fact Dahlia can take it in without embarrassing herself out of existence. Her appearance just screams 'look at me, look at me!', whereas mine is more like, 'just keep walking without making a comment and maybe I won't wrap your leg around your neck and strangle you with it'.
See what I mean?
Dahlia's blonde and bouncy curls along with her jade eyes and near-perfect complexion makes her look like she belongs on a magazine cover. Of course, her small frame—yet defined curves—gives her that Little Miss Perfect/All-American Girl defined look. Every guys dream.
Guys are jackasses.
Candy was another story. Her popularity skills never ceased to amaze me—just as Dahlia's never had. She's always wearing her brilliant grin that is just so damn friendly it makes me want to gag sometimes. Her hair colour varies, which is one of the reasons people like her.
She's overly spontaneous.
I think her hair used to be brown. Yeah, I know, 'wow, Alex, thanks for the in-depth explanation'. But I'm serious. It was just…brown. At least, that's what I saw from the pictures. Just…regular, pin-straight, brown hair. Now…not so much. Actually, when I first met her, her hair was hot-pink with black and bleach-blonde fringes at the ends.
Right now it was blue and fastened up in pigtails with yellow ribbons. Her eyes remaining their stunningly green selves at all times. Do you understand why I was so happy about the other night?
Damn boys.
"Alright, are you done laughing, or would you like me to leave you and your admirers alone?" I say out of an impulse. I guess I'm no longer a happy sadist. I'm a…sad…sadist…
Don't ask.
"Yeah…yeah I'm done." Dahlia managed to gasp out. "Okay," she swallowed, "I say we start with the basics; clothes." She said. Candy nodded.
"Because there's no way in hell your brothers' will fit you." I rolled my eyes; thank you for the update, Candy. I've yet to notice how abnormally tall my brothers are. Another snide comment that would do better to be said aloud than in my head—because the fact I'm speaking to myself in my head certifies me as insane.
Naturally, I've never denied that.
"Whatever." I mumbled as the two of them dragged me into a store of which's name I was too lazy to read or care was. After shoving me into the dressing room with various items I didn't be bothered about, we somehow ended in a store where there are clothes I fell so much more comfortable in.
Female clothing; sweet, sweet, female clothing.
Candy squealed and tugged Dahlia and I towards her simultaneously with such force, we both to the floor in a heap of unnecessarily heavy bags. It's not my fault they stuff half the bag with tissue paper and cardboard. Or that Dahlia's having a strange belt-fetish.
"Alex, you have to try this on!" She thrust a scrap of material at me. Uh…I'm going to pretend it's a belt on a clothes' hanger.
"In case you have forgotten, I'm going to be a guy." Wow, never thought I'd ever say that. Candy rolled her eyes.
"Oh yeah, I forgot that tiny, itty-bitty, gigantic, enormously obvious detail." Heh. She's getting good at sarcasm. I'm so proud! I engulfed her in a hug. "Um…Alex? What the hell are you doing?" I pulled away from her, realizing I'd forgotten to voice that thought.
"I'm proud of you! Your sarcasm had gotten so much better! I could feel the venom leaking through your words." Dahlia and Candy eyed me warily. I ignored that little fact. "It was beautiful." I sulked before hugging her again.
"Alright, I'll pretend you're normal on one condition." I looked up at her questioningly after pulling away from the embrace for a second time. "You try this skirt on." Ahem. That is not a skirt.
"You mean belt? I don't need anymore than I've already got." I shot Dahlia a look she completely ignored. I knew she would; she always does that.
"Just try it on." Candy continued to dangle the 'skirt'—I'm still withholding my belief, the thing is a belt—in front of my face. "It'll be like a sort of…parting gift, from me and Dahlia, to your…femininity. You know, until you turn back into a—"
"Pumpkin?" I supplied dryly. Dahlia shot me a look similar to the very one I'd given her.
Scowling, Candy continued. "I was going to say girl. Come on, just try it. We'll even get you a matching top!" I turned to Dahlia in hope of some support. To my dismay, she was wiggling her eyebrows and grinning moronically. To avoid the face that would soon turn me to a hopeless girl wearing only a belt and whatever else they picked, I turned back to Candy.
Mistake.
She was pouting slightly and blinking innocently. I caved; was there no justice in the world? I took the bloody belt from Candy and all but stalked into the changing stall. I kicked off my beloved non-clingy jeans and pulled the denim belt onto my hips.
Damn. Its stupid faded grey-ness didn't look half bad.
"Here's the shirt!" Dahlia called just before a whir of soft fabric was sent over the door and flying onto my face. Not caring about the colour, size, or whether or not it was a tube-sock, I pulled the insufferable top over my head. I didn't bother with a glance at the mirror, it was apparent that I'd more than likely be leaving the store wearing this outfit.
"Oh, you look gorgeous, darling!" Candy cried as she appraised her work. I shivered as Dahlia blew my hair off my shoulder. I glanced at my shoulder to find it was bare. Where the hell had my sleeve gone?!
…Oh. The stupid top was an off-shoulder sweater. It was crimson, so at the very least, I was happy they weren't making me endure pink in all its girly cruelty.
"It's a tad…draftee." I tugged the sleeve and tried to place it over my shoulder. They rolled their eyes.
"You know very well that it fits you like a magnificently sewn glove." Dahlia looked at my shoes. "Now we just have to deal with the converses. Hon, if you were going to buy these, couldn't you have gotten the girls' pair? The only people you see wearing the all black are male."
"Minus you." Candy interjected. Oh no, they weren't touching my babies.
"Nuh-uh. No dice, not happening. You can put me in a belt/skirt, a way-too-small sweater, my brothers can turn me into a guy, but no one, no one, touches the shoes. Capiche?" I asked. They rolled their eyes but agreed nonetheless. "Good." I smiled.
"But you're wearing that out of the store, so don't bother changing. If we aren't touching your shoes, then you will hop your skinny body up onto that counter so the nice man over there can scan the tags before removing them." I scowled at Dahlia. I knew it was too good to be true. She grinned back.
"I have evil friends." Oh yeah, that I say aloud. Stupid brain got me hit in the butt with belt-filled bags!
I'd gone to get drinks for Dahlia, Candy and I; and guess who was in line behind me? That's right. Dreadfully Hot Guy. So, he checks me out, we talk a little and he buys the iced-cappuccinos. Then, the moron ruins the whole thing.
"I'm sure you make quite the amount of money with a skirt like that. Hell, you should've bought me coffee." Apparently, he found that amusing. I whirled on him and shot him a look.
"Whoa, you wanna repeat that?" I raised my eyebrows at him. I could see Dahlia and Candy watching in confusion and interest.
"Oh, come on. I didn't mean it like that." He pulled a card from his wallet. "Give me a call." He winked and handed me my third drink. I took the card and folded it before turning to walk back to my friends. I felt a large hand grip my bottom, though. And no way in hell was he about to get away with that.
Oh well, bye-bye iced-cappuccino one, iced-cappuccino two, and, oops, iced-cappuccino three. My bad. He sputtered as the mocha colour dripped down his blonde hair and onto his face.
"You bitch." He growled out. I raised my eyebrows. Oh, really, now? Hmm…pate, anyone? My guess is, he won't be having children. Too bad. The security guard gripped my forearm gently enough that he wasn't causing any damage. He looked about ready to laugh.
"Young lady, as happy as I am to see you kick his ass for degrading you like that, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." I smiled at him.
"With pleasure." I leaned over in front of him and shoved his card in his mouth. "You aren't getting that call, by the way." I bid you adieu, Trent Valley Mall.
Thou suckith with great amount…ith.
"I just got suspended from the mall because of your damn skirt, are you happy?" I asked Dahlia and Candy. They smiled.
"You'll be gone before you would have gone back, anyway. You despise the mall." Meh; true enough. But I could have gone back. What if I needed to…return same of the belts Dahlia made me buy? Hey, I could've dressed like a guy! My life is so very fun. "Alright, if there's anyone who can turn you into a guy; it's Jesse." Dahlia shoved me into the salon.
"Great." Sarcasm is lovable poison, don't you think so? Jesse Crawford was hairdresser extraordinaire. She solved Kevin's little problem after he burnt them off lighting fireworks last year. I just realized I have so many weird stories.
"Hey girls." More perky people, fantastic. We muttered variations of greetings before Dahlia and Candy pushed me onto a chair.
"We need to turn Alex into a guy." They stated simultaneously. Did they have to say that so loudly? Honestly, if the whole salon hadn't heard, Jesse's laughter certainly tipped them off.
Holy crap. Ever have the feeling where you thought you were in a different body? I didn't think so. But if you have—because you're a freak, I'm all but positive—then you should multiply that by ten, minus a large piece of fabric that is rather itchy, hot, and causes dull pain to a couple of female necessities. My issues people, my issues.
At least, it would be my issues if I knew where they were. Or if I knew where my body was.
"She went catatonic on us. I knew this would happen." Dahlia stepped into my line of vision. "You okay, Pup?" I blinked.
"Dae?" I asked. She nodded. "Where's…me?" I asked. She smiled a little.
"In here, Pup." She patted my chest in indication of my heart. I pouted.
"I miss her." I sulked. Candy grinned. "But…" I brightened. "On the other hand, I make a pretty hot guy." I turned to Jesse and gave her a high-five. "You're a miracle worker, Jess." She grinned and bowed a little.
"Thank you, thank you." The playful demeanour left her face almost instantly. "Now, perfection of the voice and swagger." I nodded and extended a hand.
"Hey, I'm Alex." Jesse's brows furrowed.
"Lower."
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"More of a drawl." Candy suggested.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"Too slow." Dahlia grimaced.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"You're trying too hard." Jesse.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"Too feminine." Dahlia.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"Too low." Candy.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"Don't try so hard!" Dahlia.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"Too…breathy." Jesse.
"Hey, I'm Alex."
"Too…" The three of them grinned. "Perfect!" They shouted in synch. Joy to girly jumping and squealing. I sighed.
"The walk." Candy motioned for me to begin so they could most likely yell orders at me that contradict each other.
"Larger steps."
"Don't kick out your legs so much."
"Slouch a little."
"I refuse to screw up my posture for the sake of walking like a guy." Okay, that was obviously me.
"More languid. You're a guy, you don't give a shit. About anything." Jesse, that much was clear.
"Hands in your pockets."
"Don't drag your feet!"
"You aren't in a marching band."
"Be casual."
"Just be…you." I stopped and whirled on them.
"I am a girl, in case you forgot." I stalked towards them. And as I did, what do you know; Dahlia and Candy clapped and squealed again.
"You did it!" I rolled my eyes. Figures; I get it when I'm not trying.
"I guess I'm done." I say I my brand-new guy voice. "I don't need any help with acting like a guy; I've got that down-pat. I live the four most horrendous—"
"And hot." Ew. I didn't hear that.
"—guys on earth." I smirked. "Hell, I beat them at a burping contest once." Jesse raised her eyebrows.
"Nice." She gave me a proud high-five before returning to her work. Ha. Loser.
I knocked on the door to our feeble apartment. Kevin opened the door and looked at me with disinterest.
"Can I help you?" I rose a newly—and fake—bushy eyebrow. Well, not overly bushy. But not exactly my slender former or brow. I then smirked.
"I'm here for Alexandra." I drawled. Ooh, I am good. The idiot doesn't even recognize his own sister. Michael and Aaron joined him at the door. Aaron scowled and Michael glared.
"She isn't here." Aaron ground out from his gritted teeth.
"Oh? When will she be back?" I felt a smack to the back of my head.
"Never. Now get lost twerp." I rubbed the back of my head and stared at Devon in shock.
"Ow, Devon!" My voice returned to its normalcy. The four of them did a complete 360 and stared at me in shock.
"Alex?" They asked in unison. I shuddered. They had to stop doing that. It was beyond creepy.
"At your service." I gave them a—manly, if I do say so myself—bow. "What d'you think?" Michael blinked.
"Dude, you look like a guy." He sputtered out.
"Hey! Watch yourself." I did a double take. "Oh, wait, I mean…thank you?" Wow. Confusion hurts my head. "Um…when do we leave?" I asked. Aaron, Kevin and Michael retreated inside. I heaved out a sharp breath then looked at Devon expectantly.
"Tomorrow morning." I narrowed my eyes at him and he smiled nervously before following the others' cowardly examples. I went to my room and began packing as I grumbled obscenities under my breath.
No I will not give you an example. Any of which would be far too graphic.
"I can't believe I'm actually doing this." I looked up at the ridiculously large school. Somehow, it looked less impressive in the pamphlet. It also looked smaller. Who would'a thunk it?
"You're a guy; deal with it." Thanks for the kind words, Devon. Yes, I know I'm insane. Stop laughing. I know I speak to myself in my head. So stop laughing. We just got threw a severely boring meet and greet with the Headmistress—this stupid prissy school didn't have a principal—and she was now showing us around the school.
Plus? The woman was outrageously nice, and didn't care if she got fired. She was already in her fifties and had planned on retiring, but decided to give students a major break before she was fired.
"I've decided to put Devon and Aaron in one room," bad idea—but I'm guessing that's why she put the quadruplets together, "and in the room next to that, is Michael and Kevin." Also bad, but nearly as bad as Aaron and Devon. But wait, that meant… "Alexander, you will be with my only available last place."
"Alone?" I asked hopefully. No need to worry, I still sounded like a guy. I hope. Mrs. Delford chuckled.
"No, unfortunately, you'll have to dorm with Jason McCarthy. Hopefully you will rub off on him." Mrs. Delford led me to the dorm room, not far from my brothers' rooms, and went on her way.
"You want us to come in with you?" Kevin asked. I sighed and shook my head.
"Nah. I'll unpack and meet you guys in your room." They nodded and headed back to their dorms. I entered the dorm room and set my bag down. Then, my jaw dropped with the same accuracy. That's right people.
My roommate was Dreadfully Hot Guy/King of the Bastards.
A/N: Tee-hee. Please don't cyber-kill me for leaving you with a cliffy! But…I'll un-cliffy the chapter with another chapter if you review! :D
Disclaimer: I own nothing from a scary thing called reality.