You continue to talk, growing slightly more at ease.

Although you still did find it incredibly difficult to separate Allison from the body she now wore, the longer you talked, the more of her you were gradually beginning to see.

While perhaps all this talk of your mom's body and her subconscious wasn't exactly the easiest of things for you to listen to, as soon as you gotten past that and moved onto other things - such as your siblings, friend's, teachers at school - it became more and more apparent that beneath the outer shell, she really was the exact same girl underneath. Her laugh, her smile, the sound of her voice might all have changed, but she hadn't. Not really.

"Yeah, it's kinda weird to think that I'm older than Mr. Hanson now," she giggled, after the subject of school had been brought up. Mr. Hanson (or "Handsome") being the science teacher that all the girls swooned over - Allison included. "I used to think that guy was so dreamy."

"Hey! I'm right here you know," you protested, laughing along. It being really good to hear her giggle... even if it was with your mom's voice.

"Oh, like you aren't constantly checking out Miss. Card every five seconds," she retaliated, knowing you too damn well. "You and the entire male population of the school!"

Acting the innocent, pretending like you didn't know what she was talking about, you answered, "What...? No. No way."

"You're a terrible liar, Tim Connors. Don't think I never overheard you and Randall talking."

This admittedly wouldn't have been all that hard, seeing as all you and Randall ever talked about was girls and video games. As much as you loved Allison and as pretty as she was (or at least had been), you were still very much a normal, red-blooded heterosexual male. It was perfectly natural. Sometimes girls just caught your eye - and Miss. Card was no exception, being one of the hottest, bustiest teachers in the school and a fantasy of yours from the day she arrived.

This train of thought did lead you back to Randall though, and you informed her about how he came over to see you the other day, to help cheer you up and share his sympathies over her '****'.

"I really wish I could've told him you were still alive, instead of lying like that," you regretfully mused, recalling how bummed out he'd seemed. "He really would be over the moon."

"Puh-lease!" Allison scoffed, "Randall, over the moon about this?" Clearly not buying your assessment. Even with all that had happened, it seemed that the famous Lowry/Davis love-hate relationship was still very much going strong."I can just imagine what he'd say. How much he'd laugh his ass off..." Pausing for a second then, as if suddenly realizing something, she let out a little chuckle. "Actually, now that you mention it, he probably would be wouldn't he? Didn't he have like a huge crush on your mom?"

"Maybe. I dunno," you shrugged, acting naive. Not really wanting to think about this fact.

"He did, and you know he did!" she laughed, giving you a playful little butt with her shoulder. Once again seeing right through you. "Though I can kind of guess what he was interested in..."

Following her eyes downwards, you realized that she was referring of course to your mother's chest, which knowing Randall and how much of a boob man he was (heck, you both were), she was probably right. You didn't really feel all that comfortable staring at it however, and quickly pulled your eyes away, feeling your face flush red as you did.

Just as Allison was about to say something, the expression on your mother's face indicating that she was going to tease you some more, there was a knock on the door, followed soon after by the appearance of Mrs. Lowry.

"Only me," she cooed, flashing you both a smile . "I thought you might like a nice glass of lemonade and a few cupcakes I made. Call it payment for helping out with the clothes."

"Thanks, Mrs. Lowry. You didn't have to," you told her, grateful for the interruption.

"No, I didn't. But I wanted to," she said, walking into the room with a tray full of goodies, reminding you as she did, "And it's Linda, Tim. Please, call me Linda."

While you apologized - still having not yet gotten used to calling her that - Allison reached over and took a glass and a cupcake off the tray. "Thanks, mom." It had to be said, it was very strange hearing one middle aged woman call another "mom", the two of them being basically the same age now - give or take a couple of years. Mrs. Lowry though, (obviously used to it by now) merely smiled, retreating back out the room a moment later, leaving the both of you again to it.

"Still with the cupcakes, huh?" you asked, holding up one of the very impressive looking, intricately decorated cakes. Allison's mother having something in common with your own, in that they both couldn't seem to get enough of baking.

"Yeah. I think she actually got this recipe from your mom," Allison replied, biting into hers.

For the next half hour you continued to chat away, feeling a lot more relaxed around her now that you'd previously done. Of course there was a long way to go until you'd be 100% comfortable with her, like you used to be (if that were even a possible), but you had definitely made big strides. Talking to her now made you realize just how much emptier your days had seemed without her calling you out on your bullshit, or playfully making fun. It had also, in a strange sort of way, helped you cope slightly better with your mother's passing. Made you more accepting and at ease perhaps. Though you couldn't really explain why or how, you guessed it must have had something to do with your mother's face literally being right there. Smiling and laughing away. It somehow being of great comfort. Even though you knew of course that it was really your girlfriend.

Though she's not my girlfriend anymore, I guess. Got to stop thinking of her like that, you reminded yourself, it becoming a habit that you simply had to brake. Being just too weird.

With the time ticking on, you told her that it was probably about time you got going (not wanting to push things too far too soon). Once again there was a slightly awkward moment where you were both unsure whether to hug or not. So instead she just gave your arm a gentle little rub and told you to call her anytime. Having brought your mother's cell phone along as well as her clothes.

Promising that you would, you said goodbye and headed downstairs, speaking briefly to Mrs. Lowry who thanked you again for coming, telling you that you really were a "brave boy for doing this". She also made a point to remind you before you left that they had begun planning Allison's 'funeral' for the following week ,and that it would be a very small affair with just a few friends and family. Clearly she didn't want Allison to hear this, whispering quietly as she told you that you and your family would be more than welcome to come. If you felt up to it that is.

"I know it's not exactly the same thing as a proper funeral for your mother, but perhaps you might like to use it as an opportunity to say goodbye."

"Thanks, Mrs Low... Uh, Linda," you replied, as the two of you hugged goodbye. "I'll let my dad know and see what he says." You had no idea what his actual response might be, but you guessed there was no harm in asking. It was a nice gesture after all.

"Okay. You take care now, Tim," she smiled, sending you on your way.