It's a rather girly pink fiat.

"Oh wow!" he grinned, as the two of you stared at a very girly looking, pink Fiat 500 parked exactly where Miss Card's parents had said it would be (a slight dent on the bumper that was hardly noticeable being the only evidence of the crash), "This is my car, dude! I've finally got my own freaking car!"

"Nice!" you replied, examining the thing and feeling a whole lot more jealous over this than you had about the iphone, being unable to refrain from questioning the obvious though, "But what's with the color? It's pink!"

This fact was of course more than obvious to Randall, but his excitement over finally getting a car of his own was blinding him slightly as he began to get defensive. "Yeah, and? Car's can be pink," he told you, shrugging his shoulders, making out like it wasn't a big deal (even though he'd ripped on various other people in the past for driving similarly colored cars), "It's whether or not it's a sweet ride that's important." Hurrying over to it to examine it's condition, gliding a hand across it's smooth surface, he then looked back at you in amazement, "Check it out, there's hardly a scratch on it! I'd have thought it would have been way more dinged up than this."

"True," you agreed, heading over to check it out a little more closely yourself, recalling what the doctors had said about it being involved in the crash, "I guess Miss Card mustn't have hit the other guy all that hard."

Though it was small and pink and not exactly the most masculine thing you'd ever seen, it admittedly didn't look like that bad a car, seeming fairly new and having all the mod cons inside; Sat Nav, a CD player, comfy looking seats, as well as a cup holder. "Alright, I guess it is pretty cool," you then told him, having to give him that, but not before getting in another playful little dig, "...for a woman's car, that is."

"Fuck you, Mr. 'I have to borrow my mom's crappy old station wagon'! A car's a car, and this one's mine. Now c'mon, hop in and lets take this baby for a ride."

Doing as you were told, the both of you then got into the car, having rather a brief discussion about whether or not Randall was actually okay to drive or not, with you offering your services just in case he if he was still feeling a little woozy from his hospital stay. This of course resulted in him jokingly calling you out as being jealous of his new ride, wanting it all for yourself (which in a way you supposed was kind of true, but not quite to the extent he was meaning). Buckling up and watching rather fascinated as Randall tried to do the same, struggling for a second or two in cajoling the seat belt around his now rather large breasts, not being entirely sure where to put the thing in order to get comfortable. "Jesus! Do these things get in the way or what?" he chuckled, after finally managing to position the seat belt between both mounds, causing them to push out rather more noticeably; their sheer mass causing you to unintentionally gawp.

Though you'd been doing your best to avoid thinking too much about certain aspects of Miss Card's that Randall now possessed, what with having such a fascination before and it being really kind of weird to think of your best friend in that way, the simple fact of the matter was that it was nigh on impossible not to; whether he was pushing them out towards you jokingly in your hospital room, or simply walking down the hallway with them bouncing around naturally as he went, or even now bulging out prominently beside you due to the seat belt. Your best friend now had breasts. Really big breasts. And not only that, he had the actual breasts that you'd spent many an hour fantasizing about in class (and even outside of), Miss Card's being the owner of the biggest, most awesome pair you'd ever seen. Knowing that Randall had them now really made things kind of awkward and uncomfortable, having to try your hardest to ignore the feelings his new female body conjured up inside you, but finding that easier said than done.

"Alright, are we ready to roll or what?" he asked you, snapping you out of your daze as you hurriedly pulled your gaze from his chest, feeling a little embarrassed and hoping that he hadn't noticed.

"Uh, yuh-yeah. I'm good to go," you replied, quickly covering yourself with another joke, "Let's see what this giant hairdryer can do!"

"Laugh it up, Tim," he told you, laughing mockingly and starting up the engine, "But I know you're still totally jealous!" And with that you headed off, using the Sat Nav to guide you towards Miss Card's house.

Randall was a pretty good driver (or at least better than you) so the journey went pretty smoothly, though you did find yourself occasionally dipping your head or glancing away slightly when you passed someone you knew on the streets, thinking that it might seem a little weird being seen in a car with your History teacher - seeing how it did feel slightly weird on this end too. Every time there was a pause in conversation, you could almost swear it really was Miss Card sitting beside you and not your best friend. Eventually though, after another couple of shameful glances towards his chest, you decided to bring something up that both Allison and your mother had mentioned, something that you were really going to have know going forward, and that was what to call him now. So far, you'd been pretty much acting exactly the same as you always had with him, referring to him as Randall and trying not to think too much about the whole 'Laura Card' thing. But surely that couldn't go on forever?

"So like, do I have to call you Laura now, or Miss Card, or what?...Y'know, instead of Randall?" you asked him, nervously broaching the subject.

Randall appeared to grimace a little at this, much like he had earlier in the hospital with your mom. "Ugh, no, dude," he said, clearly disliking the idea, "I don't want my best friend calling me that as well, at least not yet, and at least not in private. I mean for fuck sake, it's bad enough when your mom and Allison were doing it!"

"Really? I thought they said you were coping okay with the new name."

"Well there's coping and then there's pretending. There is a difference you know."

You hadn't even considered this, having simply taken what your girlfriend had told you as truth, seeing as he appeared to be adapting to everything else so well. "Oh. It's just that I..."

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate what they're doing and I know I'm going to have to get used to being called it if I'm gonna pretend to be Miss Card," he continued, cutting you off and sounding pretty adamant now, "But that's all it is; pretending. I'm still me inside. I'm still the same guy who kicks your ass at Call of Duty every time we play. I don't want things to be any different between us.

"Admittedly things might be a little more complicated once we go back to school, but that's a while away. For now, I'd kinda prefer it if me and you just acted the same. Which means you call me by my name; my real name. God knows it'd be nice to have a bit of normality with everything else that's fucking going on."

"Okay, Randall," you nodded, accepting this with a smile, deciding that no matter what your mom had said earlier, it was up to your friend how he wanted to be treated, and that was exactly what you were going to do, "Whatever you say."