Seen and Unseen

Wyatt slipped into the cafeteria feeling like every molecule of air parted for her.

The red leather dress did that; tight as poured lacquer, hugging her hips with the kind of shameless intent that turned walking into an act of seduction she definitely hadn't meant to weaponize...but wasn't entirely sorry about either. The thigh-high boots didn't help; each step was a slow, glossy punctuation mark.

She only wished that people would notice.

Sure, her relationship with the student body had dramatically changed since her transformation. No more bullying, no more threats of ****, no more being locked in lockers. And while all of that was a positive, it was her own student body that she was concerned with. It wasn't as if she wanted to end up on her knees like she had in the gym, but she wanted, no, she craved the eyes of the men that looked at her as if she was just another young man. Her tits, her ass, this amazing dress, all lost on everyone around her.

All except for Gary.

Gary Wallace. Wyatt's best friend since childhood. The only man on the planet who could see her for who she really was, who she was becoming. She'd been horrified by how she'd behaved on the basketball court, but would it have been so bad had it been Gary standing over her?

Never in her life had she considered Gary attractive. Until that week, Wyatt had only had eyes for women. But now, in her new body, in her new life, she found Gary magnetic. The way he'd looked at her at the bus stop had given her butterflies. The way he'd almost fallen onto her on the ride to school had gotten her heart racing. There was no denying it: Wyatt wanted Gary.

She should have been focused on solving their big problem. Instead all she could think was: I wonder if he smells as good as he looks.

Wyatt scanned the cafeteria.

And then she saw him. Her jaw went slack.

"What the actual hell?"

Gary stood across the room, tray in hand, in a blue-and-silver cheerleader uniform so tiny and tight it should have come with a content warning. The crop top clung to his chest like it was trying to learn his heartbeat. The pleated skirt did absolutely nothing to hide the shape of his hips or legs, bare above thigh-high stockings.

Wyatt felt heat bloom under her collarbone. Then her stomach. Then her groin.

She began moving toward him without thinking. Every step made the air feel thicker, her dress whispering against her thighs, her boots clicking out a steady, hungry rhythm on the floor. Gary noticed her halfway across the room. The panic on his face was almost comedic.

Almost.

Because Wyatt didn't feel like laughing.

Instead, she felt like dragging him behind a pillar and...

No. Focus. Absolutely not. No touching. No sparking. No catastrophic magical chain reactions.

By the time she reached him, he was standing rigidly beside a table, holding his tray like a shield. His eyes dipped automatically down her body, then shot back up like he'd touched a stove.

"Hey Wyatt," he said softly, voice cracking slightly.

Wyatt liked the way he said her name.

Two boys passed them, both goosenecking as they looked Gary up and down, fully ignoring Wyatt.

"Hey, Lisa, you look amazing," one said, outright staring at Gary's chest.

"Seriously," the other added, "you're, like...wow. And, like, a fucking cheerleader. Wow."

Gary gave them a mortified smile and mumbled something in reply as the boys moved on, leaving the pair of them alone.

She planted her hands carefully on the table, leaning just close enough that she knew her perfume — warm amber and cherry — would hit him. But not close enough for them to brush.

"Lisa," she purred, voice dipping dangerously, "I leave you alone for a few hours and you turn into school spirit porn. What happened to the Britney Spears look?"

Gary swallowed. Hard.

"I... got recruited."

"Oh, honey," Wyatt cooed, "you got collected. You look absolutely yummy."

A passing girl waved. "Lisa! That uniform is so flattering on you!"

Wyatt stared at her, incredulous as she slid into a seat on her side of the table. There she was, wearing a weaponized red leather dress and six-inch boots, and the universe was drooling over Gary? The whole thing was too much.

Gary's cheeks were a deep pink as he took his seat, his tiny skirt riding so high that he was practically sitting in his panties. "Wyatt, please, can we...I need to talk."

They sat opposite each other — carefully, awkwardly, painfully aware of the table between them. Wyatt crossed her legs slowly under the table, watching Gary watch the movement before he yanked his eyes away.

He looked wrecked.

Embarrassed.

Ridiculously pretty.

But there was something else there. When he looked at her, his eyes betrayed something deep inside. It wasn't a way a friend looked at another friend. This was so much more. Deeper. Hotter.

"Okay, sweetie," Wyatt said softly, "tell me."

He exhaled shakily. "This change, this new reality, it's more than clothes, more than my name. Even more than me blanking out and signing up for the cheer squad. I'm...attracted to you."

The words hit her like heat lightning, a shot of energy shooting through her from head to toe.

She didn't even pretend to hide her smile. "Good."

"Wait... what?"

"I said, 'good,'" Wyatt said, leaning back. "Both of us have been changed, honey. I got the clothes, but I also got these," she squeezed her breasts for Gary, hoping he was enjoying the show. "But nobody notices. Inside I feel more alive than I've ever felt before, and I want to be seen, appreciated. You're the only one who can see me, baby, so please. Look. Enjoy."

"But...you're my friend, Wyatt," Gary tore his eyes away from her chest. "I can't just stare at you like you're a piece of meat. Isn't that demeaning? Objectifying?"

"Oh, who cares about any of that?" Wyatt laughed. "Listen, Lisa, I don't know why we've been changed like this, but I'm enjoying it. I'd enjoy it a lot more if someone would appreciate my body as much as I do. And from where I'm sitting, you're the only one who can. And I'll let you in on a little secret: From where I'm sitting, you're looking pretty good yourself. Whatever wormed itself into you about me, and seems to have done the same thing to me about you. And I have no intention of averting my eyes like a shy little girl."

Wyatt watched as Gary swallowed hard, then slowly brought his eyes back to her, drinking her in. It felt incredible.

"But we can't," he said quietly, "you know... touch. If we can't spark again. We don't know what it will do to us if we do it again. Or to reality."

She rolled her eyes. "Sweetheart, I am very aware we can't touch. Truthfully, if we could, I'd probably climb over this table right now."

He made a noise — strangled, flustered, full-body. She loved it.

"So let's focus on the task at hand. We've got a reality to fix, money to find," she again squeezed her breasts, "but that doesn't mean you can't have a nice view while we do it."

"Okay. Find money. Fix reality," Gary echoed, "No making out."

Wyatt tilted her head, letting her hair fall over one shoulder as she leaned forward. "You were thinking about making out?"

He squeezed his legs together under the skirt as his face turned bright red. Wyatt's eyes darted down, enjoying the way the fabric rode up over his thighs. She licked her lips. The sexual tension was a live current, humming hard enough to vibrate the air.

A boy walked past, breaking the spell momentarily. "Lisa! Congratulations on making the team! God, you look incredible."

Wyatt's eye twitched.

Gary groaned into his hands.

Finally, after a few moments composing himself, Gary slowly lifted his head. His eyes were huge and nervous and warm.

"I...think..." he began, voice trembling slightly, "I think I have an idea about the money."

Wyatt leaned in, "What kind of idea?"

Gary swallowed hard...