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Author's Note:Ch.8. I bet everyone thought it was going to be the date chapter but I'm evil. This is a shorter chapter as is the next one, the last of one which will be next week. Prepare for the group meeting! ADDED: A few people had a bit of a problem with a new character. I have my reasons. The story isn't over with yet. I appreciate any kind of feedback or comments that people might have :).
 

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8.

Friday felt like it dragged longer than the usual 7-8 hours of most school days.

It was made even longer during lunch when she got a text from Dr. Morris informing her the group meeting was back on.

When school finally ended, there was a black government SUV waiting for her outside. Henry was already there, leaning against the hood as she approached.

"Wait, who's the hottie?" Kayla asked as they walked out of school together.

Kayla grabbed Taylor's arm. "Introduce us!"

Taylor groaned.

Henry looked annoyed until he saw them approaching. He perked up for a moment, his eyes tracking from one sister to another, lingering for a slight moment longer on Kayla than Taylor. He looked away quickly though, not wanting to be a creep.

"Hey Henry" Taylor waved as they reached them. "You remember my sister, right?"

Henry shrugged. "Sure, we used to have a few classes before."

"What a glow up" Kayla blurted out before thinking then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Its fine" Henry grunted, before opening one of the doors and getting inside the SUV.

The driver never even moved.

"You sure you're going to be ok with him and..." Kayla asked, probably referring to Jasmine.

"I'm fine" Taylor meant it too even if she knew it was going to be annoying too.

Taylor suspected Jasmine was going to a problem today. Originally this meeting had been cancelled because of her. Her mother---the mayor---had some clout after all. But apparently, the Head of DHS had more. Taylor didn't know the details, only that in Dr. Morris's email she had mentioned the higher ups had overridden Jasmine's absence.

Taylor was starting to get into the front seat of the SUV when she heard the distinctive tap of Jasmine's heels.

The staccato click of heels on pavement cut through the murmurs of departing students like a knife through butter. Taylor didn't even need to turn around—that particular cadence of footsteps, deliberately loud and punctuated with unnecessary hip swings, could only belong to Jasmine.

Jasmine's arrival was a performance—all exaggerated hip swings and perfectly-timed hair flips. She'd dialed her "egirl" persona back up to eleven, her candy-pink platform boots clicking against the pavement like a metronome counting down to chaos. "Oh my gawwwwd," she drawled, flipping her bleached curls over one shoulder as she approached the SUV. "Are we, like, carpooling now?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm sweet enough to give everyone cavities.

Kayla was still standing nearby, her arms crossed. "Hey Jay, we're the only ones here, cut the shit."

Jasmine's smile didn't waver, but her grip on her sequined backpack tightened until her knuckles matched her bubblegum-pink nails. "Ugh, rude much?" She flicked her bangs out of her eyes with a practiced motion. "Some of us are trying to maintain brand consistency here."

Kayla rolled her eyes, turning to her sister. "You sure you don't want me to go along?"

Taylor sighed. "I'll be fine".

"Why do you get to ride shotgun?" Jasmine whined, her cleavage bouncing with her tiny, exaggerated pout.

Taylor rolled her eyes and got into the backseat instead. Jasmine performed again, clapping happily. Again, there was no one around but them. Her theatrics were tiring already.

The ride to the community center where the group session was being held, was fairly quiet. Other than Jasmine chatting with her "fans" on her phone.

When they arrived, an agent was waiting.

The community center smelled like lemon-scented disinfectant and decades-old disappointment. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow over the peeling posters for long-past bake sales and Zumba classes. Taylor's fingers twitched against the vinyl seat as she scanned the room—government-issue folding chairs arranged in a too-perfect circle, a water cooler gurgling ominously in the corner, and Dr. Morris standing by a flipchart looking entirely too cheerful for someone about to mediate between hormonal teenagers and their existential crises.

The two victims from Huntsville were already there.

A teen boy and girl.

The boy lounged in his chair like a bored lion—all golden hair and sharp cheekbones that belonged on a CW show rather than a government-mandated therapy circle. His fingers drummed against his knee in a rhythm Taylor vaguely recognized from some TikTok trend. Beside him, the Hispanic girl sat with perfect posture, her dark curls cascading over one shoulder like a shampoo commercial. Her nails—painted cobalt blue—tapped impatiently against her thigh, the only betrayal of her otherwise serene expression.

They were both gorgeous.

Taylor was beginning to notice that the virus seemed to have a type.

"Please take a seat" Dr. Morris said, pointing to the three empty chairs.

Taylor hesitated at the circle's edge. Jasmine bulldozed past her, claiming the seat beside the Hispanic girl with a dramatic hair flip. Henry silently took the chair on the other side of the girl, leaving Taylor to see next to the dazzling golden boy.

Dr. Morris clapped her hands together—a sound that somehow managed to be cheerful and ominous simultaneously. "Let's begin with introductions," she announced, gesturing to the golden-haired boy lounging like a sunbeam in human form. "This is Christopher Moore—"

"Chris," the boy interrupted with a lazy grin that showcased perfect teeth. His voice was deeper than expected, smooth like honey poured over gravel. "Unless you're my mom with a wooden spoon." He winked at Taylor, who felt her cheeks warm inexplicably.

Dr. Morris continued unfazed. "And this is Luna Morales." She indicated the Hispanic girl, whose dark eyes flicked up briefly before returning to examining her cobalt nails.

Then she introduced Taylor, Henry and before she could introduce Jasmine, the attention seeker introduced herself.

"Jasmine Whittaker!" she announced, flipping her hair with practiced precision. "TikTok verified, obviously." She smiled at Chris, who blinked slowly like a disinterested cat.

Jasmine looked a bit annoyed when Chris didn't immediately fawn all over her.

He instead turned his attention to Taylor. "So you're the famous Gamma Girl, huh?"

Taylor's fingers dug into her thighs as Chris's gaze lingered—not with the invasive curiosity she'd come to expect from strangers, but with something closer to recognition. "Not sure about famous," she muttered, acutely aware of Jasmine's glare boring into her temple.

Dr. Morris cleared her throat. "I want today's first session to be informal. Just a quick 'getting to know you' session. Something simple and easy. You five are very unique in that this is the first large outbreak so close together like this in a few years now."

Chris stretched his arms behind his head, muscles flexing under his fitted t-shirt. "What's to know? We all got screwed by the same bug." His tone was light, but Taylor noticed how his fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against his knee—three fast, one slow.

Dr. Morris ignored him. "Let's go around—share something about yourselves that isn't related to the virus."

Luna sighed, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I play cello." Her fingers twitched as if plucking invisible strings. "Used to, anyway. Before..." She glanced down at her cobalt nails, suddenly fascinated by their shine. "As soon as I became a girl, I sorta lost interest."

Jasmine perked up instantly. "That's so tragic! You should totally—"

"Stay on topic" Dr. Morris interrupted. "Henry?"

Henry grunted. "I hate wasting my time more now than ever."

Dr. Morris gave him a look before moving onto Chris. "What about you, Chris?"

He looked right at Taylor. "I never used to be interested in pretty girls before and now..." He smiled, flashing a bright, white smile.

Dr. Morris coughed. "Moving on."

Taylor shifted in her seat, hyperaware of Chris's lingering gaze. The vinyl chair squeaked under her thighs—a sound that suddenly felt obscenely loud in the heavy silence. She focused on the scuff marks on the linoleum floor, counting the black streaks like they held the secrets of the universe.

"I have a twin sister" she shared, understanding the assignment.

Chris leaned in. "So you're like identical twins now?"

"Not identical, there are some differences," Taylor admitted.

"I'd like to see those," Chris smirked.

"Thank you, Taylor" Dr. Morris said with a smile, before turning to Jasmine. "Now Jasmine, how about you?"

Jasmine flipped her hair with practiced precision. "I have a million followers on TikTok, which is totally worth mentioning, even if you said nothing about the virus. And I'm super into makeup now which is like totally weird because..."

"Thank you, Jasmine" Dr. Morris interrupted, earning a frown from the self centered twit.

The vinyl chair let out another embarrassing squeak as Taylor crossed her legs—a sound that made Luna's lips twitch in suppressed amusement. Chris's gaze flicked down to Taylor's knee, then back up with a smirk that promised trouble.

The water cooler's gurgling filled the silence as Dr. Morris adjusted her clipboard. Taylor traced the condensation trails on her plastic cup—little rivers mirroring the sweat creeping down her spine. Chris's knee brushed hers under the pretense of stretching, and she jerked away so fast her ponytail whipped her own cheek.

Now" the doctor continued. "I wanted to take the time in this first session to start with questions. I know this all can be a scary and difficult experience for everyone. So does anyone have any questions about the virus or things that pertain to it?"

The silence stretched like taffy, thick enough to chew. Taylor watched Luna pick at her cobalt nails—three quick flicks against each cuticle—while Chris drummed his fingers against his thigh in that same TikTok rhythm.

"I have one" Jasmine said quickly. "Why is Taylor suddenly Superwoman?"

This piqued the interest of the others as well, even Henry seemed to react.

Dr. Morris's pen paused mid-air for exactly one second—Taylor counted—before she set it down with deliberate calm. "Jasmine," she said, voice smooth as the conference table between them, "that's an excellent question about variant differentiation." Her fingers laced together, forming a neutral barrier. "But perhaps we could rephrase it to focus on personal experiences rather than comparisons?"

Jasmine was having none of that though. "I got infected first and she gets all the perks." She crossed her arms, her breasts pushed up as she did. "We all saw the video, she was super fast and she climbed like some kind of monkey and she's....she's....not...."

"Dumb" Henry inserted, Jasmine glared.

The others smirked and suppressed laughs, even Taylor.

Dr. Morris was quick to try and defuse the situation. "Let's stay focused" she said, trying her best to keep her own emotions in check. "We discussed this privately, Jasmine. Some individuals are effected by the virus differently than others."

Jasmine huffed, pouting. "Its not fair though"

"Its not about fairness" Dr. Morris countered, her tone firm but not harsh. "Its just how the virus works. Some peoples' bodies are more receptive to its effects."

"Why did it make us all hot then?" asked Luna, finally no longer interested in her nails. "I mean I have sisters and" She paused then grabbed her boobs. "None of them are stacked like this."

Jasmine perked up. "Yeah and like, why am I suddenly obsessed with makeup?"

Dr. Morris took a deep breath. She had dealt with enough Gamma patients to know where this was going. "We've studied that the virus seems to enhance certain... traits based on latent neural pathways. For some it manifests in physical ways" She looked quickly at Jasmine. "For others it can be mental"

"I was a straight A student before" Jasmine admitted "but now I can barely focus" She dropped the act for a moment. "Its frustrating."

Chris snorted. "Yeah well, I went from being a cheerleader to..." He waved a hand over his new body. "It was a bit of a shock"

Dr. Morris nodded, tapping her pen against her clipboard. "The virus amplifies latent traits—whether physical, mental, or emotional. Taylor’s neural pathways were already aligned with feminine structures, so the transition was smoother. Jasmine, your brain had to rewire entirely." She paused, glancing at Henry. "And for some, like Henry, the changes reinforce preexisting masculinization patterns."

Henry huffed. "Bullshit"

"I have no issues" Luna added. "You're all freakish. I'm normal" She was saying it while filling her nails, her legs crossed like a diva.

Normal?

Dr. Morris tapped her clipboard with the precision of a metronome. "Let's clarify something—'normal' doesn't exist here." She gestured to the circle with her pen, its cap clicking like a tiny judge's gavel. "Gamma doesn't follow human rules. It rewrites them." The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting jagged shadows as Luna's cobalt nails stilled mid-file. "I'm not one of the scientists who can explain all that. My job is to make sure you lot adjust to the changes your bodies and, mostly your minds have gone through."

The vinyl chairs groaned in unison as everyone shifted—Jasmine with an exaggerated sigh, Henry with a stiff shrug, Chris with a lazy stretch that made his shirt ride up just enough to reveal a strip of toned stomach. Taylor focused intently on her own knees, suddenly fascinated by the way her skirt draped over them.

The water cooler's rhythmic gurgling filled the silence as Dr. Morris set down her clipboard with deliberate calm. Taylor caught Chris watching her again—not with the clinical curiosity of scientists or the invasive stares of classmates, but with something closer to amusement. Like they shared a private joke only virus survivors could understand.

Taylor's fingers tightened around the plastic cup, condensation dripping onto her thighs as Chris leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "So doc," he drawled, the fluorescent lights catching the gold flecks in his eyes, "what's the deal with the super reflexes? Because I swear to god, I caught a falling vase last week like it was nothing." He snapped his fingers—the sound sharp in the stale air—and grinned at Taylor. "You ever do that?"

"Both Taylor and Chris received physical enhancements after their transformations" Dr. Morris explained.

"Him too?" whined Jasmine. "That's so unfair!"

Taylor stared at Chris. He's like me, she thought, absently brushing a strand of hair behind her hair.

Chris's grin widened as Taylor's fingers paused mid-air, still tangled in her own hair. "Yeah, me too," he said, flexing his hands in a way that made the tendons stand out sharply. "Caught my baby brother mid-tumble off the couch last Tuesday. Kid didn't even cry—just giggled and called me Spider-Man." His voice dropped conspiratorially. "You get the weird muscle memory stuff too?"

He was like her.

"There are some notable differences" Dr. Morris continued to explain. "Taylor is stronger, has more stamina. Chris is much more agile and flexible and his reflexes are far more enhanced".

Dr. Morris cleared her throat with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd spent years redirecting hormonal teenagers from volatile topics. "Let's shift focus," she announced, tapping her pen against a fresh page on her clipboard like a conductor cueing the next movement. "Physical changes are just one aspect. Today, I want to discuss"—her gaze swept the circle—"how you're navigating social dynamics post-transition."

Taylor's fingers traced idle patterns on her knee as the conversation meandered through school complaints and parental drama—Jasmine's exaggerated sigh about her parents still "not dealing", Luna's dry commentary about her sisters stealing her clothes now that she had "the good tits." The words blurred together like watercolors, her attention snagging every time Chris shifted in his seat, the vinyl creaking under his weight.

His laugh cut through the drone of conversation—warm and unexpectedly rough, like gravel under sunlight. Taylor caught herself staring at the way his throat moved when he spoke, how his Adam's apple bobbed with each chuckle. It was stupid, this fixation. She'd seen handsome boys before. But Chris carried his new body with an ease that made her chest ache—like he'd never known anything else.

Wait, did she just think of him as handsome?

The realization hit Taylor like a static shock—sudden, sharp, and impossible to ignore. Chris leaned forward to grab a water bottle, his sleeve riding up to reveal taut forearm muscles flexing beneath golden skin, and her stomach did this... thing. This fluttery, traitorous thing that made her press her knees together tighter under the pretense of adjusting her skirt.

What the hell was that?

Chris was a boy. She didn't like boys. She liked Callie. Callie was her girlfriend. So why was this boy making her go all weak in the knees?

Shit.

 The session ended there.

The folding chairs screeched against linoleum as everyone stood to leave, the session's abrupt ending lingering in the air like a bad joke. Taylor hurried toward the exit, her ponytail swinging like a pendulum counting down her escape.

"Bolting right away?" said Chris as he fell into step with her.

"Not bolting" she lied, her chest fluttering. "Just gotta be somewhere."

It wasn't a lie. She needed to raise home in time to get ready for her date with Callie tonight.

"Hey I can give you a lift if you want" he said, pointing to a car as it pulled. "Well its my Mom's car but..." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Taylor stopped. He was a persistent one. She took a deep breath. "I have a girlfriend."

There she said it. Now he'd leave her alone.

Chris didn't miss a beat. "Cool," he said, hands sliding into his pockets with an easy shrug that made his shoulders look broader under his thin hoodie. "I didn't ask you out." His grin was all teeth and no apology. "Just offering a ride to someone who, y'know, actually gets it." He jerked his chin toward Jasmine, who was dramatically taking selfies. "Unlike *that*. What is her deal anyway?"

Taylor scoffed as they stopped in front of Chris's mother's car, leaving Jasmine with her favorite person---herself. "She was a real asshole as a guy. Rich, full of himself. His mother is the mayor."

"Oh one of those" Chris scoffed. "Dated a guy like that. Really self absorbed."

His mother beeped her horn. "Christopher" she shouted out of the window.

Chris smiled. "Let me give you a ride?"

Taylor bit her lip and nodded. She took out her phone, texting her Mom that she got a ride and would be home soon.

The car smelled like vanilla air freshener and old McDonald's fries—a weirdly comforting combination that made Taylor relax slightly against the cracked leather seats. Chris's mom turned out to be a freckled nurse with the same gold-flecked eyes as her son, humming along to a Fleetwood Mac song as she navigated afternoon traffic.

Chris sat in the backseat next to her. "Your city is quiet" he said, looking out the window. Then as an after thought. "Its kinda unsetting how your whole world changes but the rest of the world goes by without even noticing."

"Some notice" Taylor said, thinking about the reactions she got when she returned to school.

When Chris spoke again, it was with a quieter tone. "My friends didn't understand. I was this pretty, popular kind of girl. Then I wasn't" He rubbed his hands on his jeans. "It was hard to deal with, you know?"

She knew. She nodded. "I only had two friends. I think my best friend didn't really know how to act, he made some jokes about my boobs, weird but awkward nonetheless. My other friend" She smiled. "We started dating."

"Really?" Chris said, turning to her. "How's that? Weird?"

Taylor hadn't really thought about it. She'd always had a thing for Callie. She always wanted to get up enough courage to ask her out and when she finally did, Jason beat her to it. She knew now it was all fake but she didn't know that at the time. She felt robbed. She was happy it finally happened. 

"Its good. I had a crush on her for a long time but..." she said, surprising herself.

But? Why a but?

"But" Chris said, nodding. "That was the old you, right?" Chris patted her hand. "You're lucky in a way. My boyfriend, he didn't take it well. Bastard took a swing. I'm not sure what pissed him off more, the fact that I deflected it " He smirked. "Or that my return punch laid him on the ground."

They both laughed but it was kind of hollow. 

Shared.

They finally stopped in front of Taylor's house.

"Can I have your number?" he asked, holding up his phone.

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "I just said..."

He waved his hands. "Not to ask you out, just to talk. Luna isn't really chatty and frankly, I don't really want to be friends with the other two but you" He sighed. "I feel like you and I can get along real well?"

She smiled. "Sure".

She gave him her number then left the car. 

They promised to talk soon.

She watched the car as it pulled away.

Her stomach fluttered and her heart skipped a beat.

Shit, no, shit.

There is no way that she liked a boy. 

No way.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF