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Being adopted meant that she didn't look a whole lot like her family. Lighter hair, paler skin; just about the only things she shared with them were dark eyes and an overbite. It also meant she didn't meet them for a long time, until she was almost 14. Up to then, she'd lived in an orphanage, and attended a private school affiliated with it.
Well. He had. She wasn't exactly around yet.
She didn't get up to much at that school. She wasn't disliked, but she had few friends, even fewer when they transferred out ahead of her. The last to leave had gone with little more than a gap-toothed grimace, never any good at goodbyes. People come and go, though, so she hardly noticed that same gap settling in her heart.
Despite her growing loneliness, school wasn't much of an issue. Her grades were fine enough; she had her ups in math and her downs in history, and the others floated at respectable, average scores. Respectable and average, two perfectly good words to describe her.
Well. To describe him. It was her who sent the scales careening in the wrong direction.
The only extracurricular she made time for, the one thing she could muster up the energy to be truly excited about, was the school's swim team. She swam as often as she was able: most days after school, and on weekends when she could get a ride. Others found it strange, but she loved the chlorine green her hair had become as a result. Getting in the pool meant a couple hours where she didn't have to worry about the melancholy shape of her life, only glide down her lane, easy as can be.
Getting out between laps, however, begged a few issues with her body image.
She liked to think she was just a little chubby, but she knew she was fat. Baring her torso, putting it on display like that, put a twist in her guts like little else, the very reason she wore so many baggy jackets and sweaters in her dry time. She didn't even have any fullbody swimsuits to cover up with, since those were seldom sold for someone like her, especially in thrift stores. So, she was stuck with the "natural" choice, swim trunks. As much as she may have wanted to, she knew wearing a shirt would affect her times, so she powered through it as best she could. Besides, once she was back in the water, she was fine!
Well. He was fine. Built like a barrel, and floated just as well; less energy spent on buoyancy meant more to fight drag.
Her time at the pool always came to a close sooner than she would have liked. In the water, she was weightless and free, but once she was back on land, she had no choice but to lug her body back to the showers.
She often wondered how everyone else could be so confoundingly normal about undressing together, not a care in the world. For her, it was easier to sequester herself into the farthest corner of a locker room built for more people than would ever use it, and change with her eyes glued to the walls.
Well. His eyes. She wouldn't open hers until the summer break, mere days before she would meet her new family.
It was a dream like any other, at first. Floating through school, flowing with a dense crowd, trying in vain to find out where she was supposed to be going. Even when she ended up pantsless, desperate for a corner to hide in, it was still familiar, in a way.
But when she happened upon a bathroom, and gazed into its mirror, she found herself as if in the opening of a video game.
Here you are, the mirror said, what would you like to change?
She made herself skinny, tall, muscular; shifted around her nose, her eyes, her hair. She found toggles, for all sorts of things. For a widow's peak, a hitchhiker's thumb; eventually, for boy or girl.
It was curiosity at first, but a moment later, satisfaction.
Leaving that one switch flipped, she worked back to the top of the list, hitting revert, revert, revert, until she found herself again: short, round, and softer around the edges.
Happy.
She closed out of the mirror, and flew down the hall. She swam back and forth, returning every time to admire her reflection, the heat of effort incandescent on her beaming face. At last, she had a kind of freedom and joy in her own body that she'd never felt before.
It was Picture Day, apparently, so she soon joined the small line of people waiting for the photo booth. Once it was her turn, she sat down and got one last look at herself, in the mirror behind the photographer.
It spoke again, Are you okay with these changes?
Up and down, her eyes scanned her reflection. Butterflies swam circles in her stomach; giddy, nervous elation at what she saw.
Of course, she smiled, wide as can be.
With the camera's flash, she— yes, she— woke up, tear-streaked and terrified. He had no place here. Not anymore.