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"Wait." Liz stopped in her tracks. "You want to be the girl?"
"I... yeah?" I looked at her confused. "Baby, come on, don't even joke about that sort of thing. We've talked about this a million times. That's just... that's who I am, you know? This whole time with the device, being in this footballer's body... I think the only reason I agreed to it was to see if maybe it wasn't just my body in general that was the problem, like maybe I'd be happier as a guy if I was a hot guy, but that was stupid of me. It was toxic thinking. I just didn't have the nerve to admit what I truly wanted."
"Which is to be a girl?"
"Yes! That's all I keep thinking about. Ever since we found that stupid device. I keep circling that drain. That's what I've always wanted... but it's not just enough to have this face, or these boobs or this dick..." I gestured to my bulging crotch for emphasis. "I don't even think it'll be enough to have a whole damn body, but that'll sure as hell help. I want to be a girl. I want to be able to act like a girl and to have people treat me like a girl. I want to be able to jump on a table and dance and have hot guys lust after me. I want to be hot and sexy and feminine." I sighed wistfully then pouted. "But I can't! Because to do that I'd have to take all that away from someone else and I can't do that. It wouldn't be right. And I hate myself for thinking that because in all of my more introspective moments, if I'm not agonizing over one, I'm agonizing over the other."
"Oh my god." a sympathetic expression dawned across Elizabeth's face like a slow realization. "Evan, I'm so sorry. I had completely forgotten about all this. I had no idea this was hurting you so much. You're absolutely right. Here, let me set this straight."
"What?" My heart fluttered.
She held out the device and pointed it at the couple. Nervously, I put my hand on it.
Zzzzttttt
"There, how does that feel?"
I looked down at my body and screamed.
To be continued in part 19: Revenge is a dish breast served cold!
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