Chapter 7

Friday was our round three matches in the singles. We were now getting into playing seeds and high-ranked players. I knew that we had done as well as most would have expected, even if they wanted us to do better, As first-timers, getting to the third round was considered good. We were, however, determined not to go down without a fight.

Split Victory

© 2026 Zoë Taylor

“Hyperextended in the AAA finals,” Jade sighed, balancing her weight. “They had to carry me off like a sack of flour. Totally embarrassing. But hey, now I’m a scout. I didn't see your name on the NAMASA roster, T-Bird.”

“Late entry. Jen thought I needed to ‘expand my horizon’ beyond the TKD bubble.” Tiffani glanced at the gold ‘NAMASA #1’ pin on Jade’s jacket. It caught the fluorescent light with a mocking glint. “The 2028 Olympics are the goal,” Tiffani said softly, her eyes drifting to the crowd. “But the noise, the drama about trans girls on the mat. NAMASA is already rattling the cage, Jade. I don't know if I can hold the mask for four more years.”

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

Atticus Carver, the star wide receiver, a popular sophomore in a high school in Louisiana, is about to get a change to his life he doesn't expect or want - and it's all in public.

Now the person who changed him to her, in spite of feeling terrible for what they did to an innocent young life and potentially more, wants one-hundred-million dollars wired to multiple bank accounts within a month, or they'll set the gender-bending spores on D.C.

Atticus is left reeling from everything, having to pick a new name for herself, learn to be a girl in high school, to finding new romances, to keeping her old friends and finding new ones, to picking up a brand-new sport for herself...and making enemies that she has no idea how to deal with...

I will also be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com and ScribbleHub.com.

Chapter 5

As Geraldine and I made our way to sign in, she wanted to know how I was advertising the tennis gear with a life-size picture.

“It was something that happened during summer. I was working with my aunt at her hotel in Brighton, which is the overnight home for executives for the shops in the big centre across the road. They wanted someone to model for them and I got some money, this outfit and two racquets out of it. It was a bit of fun at the time.”

The Journal of a Junior Station Master
Or
Stories from the Knockanure Railway
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

Introduction

I found out on Friday the 22 of May in 2026 that E.E. Nally, one of our prolific writers in the Whateley Academy stories, passed away on April 30^th, 2026. It’s with great sorrow that I bring this news to you all. I had chatted with him almost every day or two for quite a while but he had fallen silent somewhere in the middle of February. I thought maybe he was in the hospital and unable to communicate with me but, as I feared in my imagination, he had gotten worse and eventually passed away.

The Dead Pixel Society

© 2026 Zoë Taylor

He barreled through the extremely heavy door without a second thought.

For those of you who think it would be cruel and unusual punishment to wait for part 2 of this story (Yes I’m looking at both of you!) I’ve decided to post part 2 already today. For those of you unfamiliar with this story a part 2 usually signifies that there is a part 1. Not always but this time it does. You will be less confused if you read part 1 first.

The flight “home” had been pure purgatory for Chrysanthemum Daisy. Why had his parents bought “unaccompanied minor” status for him? For Cripes’ sake he was a high school student. Well, almost anyway. And to add insult to injury he had grown out of his middle school graduation suit (it had been on the small side already before) that he had arrived to camp in so he had had to wear his dress instead. Ok ONE of them. The first one, not the more daring one. So it was Miss Daisy here and Miss Daisy there. They were driving Miss Daisy out of her, sorry, his mind.

Chapter 3

Here I am in my first term of sixth form at Benenden, a very well regarded and expensive school for girls of good breeding. Why my parents decided that it was for me is too far out of left field for me to contemplate. I, a child of two middle-class office workers, sharing a room with the daughters of a peer and top lawyer.

Split Victory
©2026 Zoë Taylor

14 year old Tiffani and her identical twin Morgan were both assigned male at birth, but due to an unusual intervention, they were separated and raised in vastly different lives. While Tiffani was allowed to simply exist, following her dreams of studying Taekwondo at a prestigious global academy, her long lost twin brother Morgan found himself under the oppressive shadow of his stepfather, billionaire playboy John Roth.

But now, Tiffani has left the singular world of Taekwondo tournaments behind to join the global world rankings of the North American Martial Arts Sports Association, she and her long lost sibling are put on a collision course that was never meant to happen, and along the way they'll unravel a mystery that's bigger than the both of them.

Chapter 2

My name is Alice Mary McConnell and I’m a teenage girl, wondering what my future holds for me. I don’t wish for things any longer. After a week of getting used to seeing the new me in mirrors, and learning to move around in a nightie, I was almost ready to face the world.

Cover art by Erin Halfelven
©2026, SammyC

Chapter 1

My name is Alec Martin McConnell, and I don’t call myself religious, although I’ve been asking anybody who may be listening to grant my wish. Not every night, but often enough. I knew, in my mind, that it was futile, but my brain wasn’t wired to listen to reason.

“Yeah, practically an all-new me...”

Pete's Vagina
86. Conversion
by Erin Halfelven

Where the Sunflowers Grow
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

-10-
The First Phone Call Home

I decided not to venture into the “Eden Cafe” from the outside looking in. I could see two dozen white men in greasy overalls gathering around a few broken down tables. No doubt they were holding a fellowship breakfast for the local branch of the Ku Klux Klan. And by no means did I want to be the guest speaker or be invited to semi-weekly cross burning. I'll take my chances somewhere else.

Wasn’t that what they were calling it these days?

Another Country -16-
by Erin Halfelven