(no subject)
Abby had woken up that morning with an unmistakable case of morning wood, plus a distinct shortage of boobs. The island had decided to play with the outward manifestations of genetic status again, apparently. She really ought to be used to this by now. Oh, wait, she was, but evidently she was still not used to it enough to remember to always keep clothes for her opposite-sexed self in a box and now she was definitely in an appropriate-garment-impaired zone.
Things with Tim were still pretty awkward and they hadn't talked about that disastrous New Year's Eve event, but there was nothing for it. He had boy clothes and she didn't, so she sighed (much more deeply than she normally would) and walked across the living room in her pajama pants and no shirt.
She knocked on his door. "Tim? Are you awake?"
Things with Tim were still pretty awkward and they hadn't talked about that disastrous New Year's Eve event, but there was nothing for it. He had boy clothes and she didn't, so she sighed (much more deeply than she normally would) and walked across the living room in her pajama pants and no shirt.
She knocked on his door. "Tim? Are you awake?"