Yes, it is done.

You wake up in your bed. You are you. Boring old you. YES!

You shower, enjoying your body. You never realized how much you loved being tall. It suddenly strikes you. You don’t only want to be tall. You want to be strong, too.

You get some sports clothes on, and you go for a run. It’s hard. You’re not used to that. Half an hour later, dripping in sweat, you pass by the fitness center. You know your brother is sporting there. So are a few of the hottest girls you know.

You walk in, all sweaty. Your brother notices you. He opens wide eyes…

“-What is this… you? Running? Did you hit your head on a wall or something?”

You smile at him.

“- Nah. I’ve decided you’ve been right all along. I should listen to my older brother’s wise words and quit being a wanker. It’s time to start seriously working out so you’re proud of me! I hope you’re not going to back out of helping me after all the times you offered!”

Your brother is taken aback, but he realizes you are serious. He actually shines with pride at the compliments you directed at him.

“- I will! Hey guys,” he yells, “this is my formerly-wanker bro, soon to be the second strongest man in town!”

You both can hear Cynthia loudly whisper to her friend on the other Peloton bike: “I’ll believe that when I see that!”

Your brother winks at you.

“Hah. She says that, but before the summer’s done she’ll either sleep with you or dream she had while a better girl does!”

Your brother never took your side in an argument. This is a side of him you never knew. You realize he was deeply, deeply frustrated with your former behavior… and you come to somehow revise your judgment. Maybe his terrible behavior was in some way influenced by the magic. Maybe he’s not so bad. You are still getting out of here as soon as possible, though. You can’t entirely shake the memories off.

And so the months pass. You make good use of your time. You run every single day, an hour in the morning. You sport at the club, and the girls by now call you {firstName} rather than the mean names they used to call you. You spend your afternoons prepping up for your new plan. You want to be an aviation engineer, and that requires a lot of math and physics.

Your parents are flabbergasted at the transformation, but they’re not complaining. Your dad, at the end of the summer, takes you aside in the small room he uses as an office.

“- Boy… you have impressed me during the summer. You used to be a weak slob. I’ll tell you the truth, I often thought I’d have been better served if you’d been born a daughter…” he laughs.

“ I was deeply wrong. I am sorry for ever thinking that.”

He stays silent a moment.

“- Anyway… Here’s the thing. Your mom and I had a plan to get a new jacuzzi, a nice one with a glasshouse thing to enjoy even when it rains hard… a big one. We talked, though. We don’t really need a super impressive jacuzzi. In fact, it was partly to annoy the neighbor, who sent his daughter to that Ivy League college and keeps rubbing it in our faces.”

You wonder where this is going.

“You’re getting this money. You did not do very well in high school, but there are ways around this. With a bit of money and a year abroad, given how hard you have shown to be able to work… I believe you could get the kind of diplomas you want.”

He’s right. You’d ruled the possibility out due to the expense, but he is right.

Plus… this means you might finally have something to impress Alexandria with. And who knows… maybe some interesting stories with young foreign ladies to tell your brothers…