<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"> <HTML xmlns:o = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office"><HEAD> <META http-equiv=Content-Type content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> <META content="MSHTML 6.00.2600.0" name=GENERATOR> <STYLE></STYLE> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=#ffffff> <DIV> “Who designed this place,” I said aloud to myself frustrated with the size and layout of Greenwood High.  Once again I was walking through corridors filled with monsters, my paws upon the white tile floor one in front of the other.  This time though I was in a rush, my next class was quite a distance away.  <o:p> </o:p> “Hey man, great costume,” said a person dressed as a vampire passing by. “Thanks,” I said without thought, I went through the motion of waving and briskly continued on my way to my next class.  This time, I wasn’t late. I arrived at Mr. Buck’s history class ahead of schedule. As always took a random seat near the front. <o:p> </o:p> I looked up at front at Mr. Buck sitting behind his oak desk grading papers. Mr. Buck was a man long since gone bald, a little gleam of light shining off his head. He looked down at the papers before him through a pair of gold rimmed glasses, a smile written upon his face.  Mr. Buck loved history and loved to teach, but he didn’t tolerate distractions very well.   <o:p> </o:p> Busily I unpacked my supplies, taking my textbook and my pencils out of my pack. A hand playfully tugged on my tail hanging out from the hole behind my desk. I jumped up surprised, knocking all the supplies off my desk. “Hey that tickles!” I exclaimed as I turned to face the culprit. <o:p> </o:p> I turned to see a pretty looking blond girl.  She sat her with of guilt on her face.  “Well I, it was just right there taunting me and I,” she suddenly paused, as if something suddenly struck her.  “You, you felt that?” said the girl with a look of confusion on her features.  <o:p> </o:p> “Of course I felt that! You just pulled my…”  I stopped myself just in time, realizing I was just about to give away my secret. “Eh,” I stuttered, “my costume, you pulled my costume.” <o:p> </o:p> “That’s not what you were going to…” she was cut off. <o:p> </o:p>  “Ahem!” coughed Mr. Buck loudly. “Mr. Weaver I’d hate to disrupt your delightful conversation with Ms. Colt,” he said waving his hand indicating the girl who just yanked my tail. “But, I have a no costume policy in my class, so if you’d please go change,” he waved his hand towards the door <o:p> </o:p> “Oh no problem,” I said gladly, thankful for the interference Mr. Buck had provided. “Oh and by the way,” I asked the teacher as I bent over to stuff supplies back into my pack. “How did you recognize me, in the costume and all?” <o:p> </o:p> “That’s a silly question,” said Mr. Buck with a smile on his face. “I didn’t recognize you, but there’s no reason your voice would be different.” <o:p> </o:p> I mentally kicked myself again, and then smiled. I grabbed my pack and walked towards the door, “I guess that was a rather dumb question wasn’t it?” I said jokingly. “Well Ms. Colt,” I said to the blond girl impersonating Mr. Buck’s formal mannerism, “I guess we’ll have to continue this later.”  The girl looked at me suspiciously as I walked out the room, inklings of distrust painted upon her face. <o:p> </o:p> I closed the bathroom door behind me and looked around for anyone who could invade my privacy. I found myself alone, which wasn’t too uncommon in this school.  For some reason the place with designed with plenty of restrooms. I still counted myself lucky though. <o:p> </o:p>  I entered an unoccupied stall and quickly sat down upon the cold ceramic toilet. Changing into my human form is a painful process, and I usually make a bit of noise during the transformation so I sat for a few moments, listening intently for signs of witnesses making sure that nobody would disturb me.   <o:p> </o:p>  I didn’t bother to take off my clothes or draw some circle with chalk like one might expect.  Instead, I concentrated, willing the change to human upon myself. My hair stood on end tingling, signaling the beginning of the transformation.  I breathed deeply in preparation for what was to come. <o:p> </o:p> Suddenly my sensitive ears perked up, catching the sound of somebody opening the rest room door slowly.  “Crap,” I exclaimed. Mentally I tried desperately to stop the impeding transformation, I knew inside this was futile though, once triggered a transformation is nearly impossible to stop. <o:p> </o:p> I could easily hear the unknown trespasser walking toward my stall. I sat there, my whole body shaking and shivering, my body pushed itself inward, and I struggled to hold it up.  Whoever it was out there I could see their sneakers visible beneath the height of the stall door.  <o:p> </o:p> The floodwaters broke.  My body went numb as it began to reshape itself like clay. I felt my muzzle soften and slowly retract into me face, my eyes wide open, saw my fur begin too recede into my skin. <o:p> </o:p> The stall door shot open suddenly. “Oh god!” exclaimed a feminine voice weakly. The same girl who pulled my tail earlier was standing there before me, her eyes wide with shock. <o:p> </o:p> “She must have followed me,” I thought. “Must’ve figured it out in class” I thought but I said nothing. Instead opting to quietly let loose the moans of pain I was holding back. <o:p> </o:p> She just stood there, she looking me, she watched my bones shrink slightly and rearrange, she watched fur recede into soft pink skin, she watched my body contort and twist.  She stood there, and watched a wolf boy in a short time become a boy, a plain ordinary brown eyed brown haired run of the mill teenage boy. <o:p> </o:p> I keeled over, my head between my legs, grasping for breath as the last few subtle changes finished.  Everything around me was spinning, dancing around me. <o:p> </o:p> I felt slim hands grabbing me by the shoulder, holding me up, steadying me. “Are you okay?” she paused as my eyes slowly focused on her face, Are you okay?” she repeated. <o:p> </o:p> “Yeah,” I said dryly. “I’m okay,” I put an arm against the stall wall, slowly getting to my feet. Without hesitation she reached under my shoulder, helping me get back onto my feet, “Thanks,” I said with a cautious smile on my face. “What’s your name again?” <o:p> </o:p> “I’m Christia,” she said while she slowly she let go, and stared at me, from head to toe, seemingly trying to take every little detail in.  “But you can call me Chris,” she said cheerfully.  I smiled in response.  “Now you’ve asked me a question,” she said leaning up against the stall door.  “Now it’s my turn.” <o:p> </o:p> “Oh, okay” I stuttered out nervously.  She looked at me, and smiled broadly, “What are you?” she asked calmly.  I winced inwardly.  That was the question I was dreading the most. <o:p> </o:p> <o:p> </o:p> -End Part Three-</DIV></BODY></HTML>