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AliNovel > Losing My Religion > Chapter 8

Chapter 8

    Chapter 8


    <span style="font-weight:400">Amber had given me <i><span style="font-weight:400">a lot</i><span style="font-weight:400"> of energy that night, and although we both fell asleep at the same time, I ended up waking up really early because of subus magic. So, being the logical creature I was, I did the only rational thing:


    <span style="font-weight:400">I snuck away.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I was not ready to deal with the emotional vulnerability I had unleashed the previous night during the highs of sex, nor was i ready to face the rejection she''d given me right before we''d fallen asleep.


    <span style="font-weight:400">So I strolled across campus, freezing as the morning air bit through the flimsy fabric of my cheap dress, contemting life.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">I never ended up apologizing to Amber, did I? Whatever, she hates me now anyways…</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">My thoughts quickly spiraled, honing in on all of the things I’d been stressing about.


    <span style="font-weight:400">What did it mean that it took me shapeshifting into a feminine body to have sex with Amber, to <i><span style="font-weight:400">want</i><span style="font-weight:400"> to have sex with Amber?


    <span style="font-weight:400">Why did my masculine form feel so temporary, so insubstantial? Was it a product of the mechanics of my shapeshifting, a manifestation of how it was difficult to keep the details of my body straight? But why didn’t the same happen with my feminine form?


    <span style="font-weight:400">I intuitively started burning my energy to heat myself, alleviating the chill as I moved through the winding paths between the towering trees. My ts click cked against the rough pavement, keeping time to my tumultuous thoughts.


    <span style="font-weight:400">More importantly than any of my other questions: what would it mean if I were to choose to be Lily? What would it mean to tell the school, to tell the church, to tell my father that I was a woman?


    <span style="font-weight:400">Those were the thoughts on my mind, as I returned to my dorm room in the early morning, to the <i><span style="font-weight:400">upied</i><span style="font-weight:400"> living room I shared with my roommate, Evan.


    <span style="font-weight:400">He sat on our ratty futon, leaning back and smoking the end of a joint, stained t-shirt and messy hair showing every moment of the night of partying they must’ve gone through. “Shiiit,” he said appraisingly, ncing up and down my exposed legs.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Shit,” I cursed.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">Doesn’t marijuana mess with your memory? I can just walk past him, pretending nothing is wrong and he’ll forget about it by the time the sun rises, right?</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Just as I thought I’d get away with it, he put his arm out behind him, blocking my path and preventing me from reaching my room. I could still turn around and leave, but that would mean confronting Amber, a much scarier prospect, even if Evan figured out my identity.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Evan shook his head, tossing his tousled dirty blonde hair around. “Dude, you’re clearly rted to that Adam kid, and I don’t care how good he fucks – you aren’t going in there with him on my watch.” His dted blue eyes stared into me, resolute.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I blinked, staring at him as my mind whirred, caught between the relief that he hadn’t realized I was a shapeshifting demon and the confusion of figuring out what he <i><span style="font-weight:400">thought </i><span style="font-weight:400">he realized.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">He thinks I’m…</i><span style="font-weight:400">


    <span style="font-weight:400">I blushed. “Adam is out right now,” I thumbed over my shoulder, towards the entrance to the dorm, “He said I could crash in his room…”


    <span style="font-weight:400">He blushed in kind and retracted his arm. “Alright, I’ll make sure no one disturbs you,” he nodded absentmindedly to himself, taking another hit. “Don’t forget to lock the door,” he called over his shoulder at me as I left.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">What a strange person…</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">—


    <span style="font-weight:400">I took up a new hobby Saturday: avoiding people.


    <span style="font-weight:400">My room became my sanctuary, a serene scene of eternal peace, unbothered by the messages my unpowered phone must’ve been failing to receive. Thanks to my stockpile of magic, I didn’t even need to leave the room to eat, a daunting prospect given that I had a very limited wardrobe as Lily, and Adam was…


    <span style="font-weight:400">Well, I’d gotten one thing right the previous night, and it was that Adam <i><span style="font-weight:400">fucking sucked</i><span style="font-weight:400">. He was miserable and annoying and inconsiderate, and…


    <span style="font-weight:400">And I’d have to <i><span style="font-weight:400">be</i><span style="font-weight:400"> him again on Sunday. Sophia was the only person at church that knew me as Lily, and I wasn’t so blindly optimistic to think anyone else would take it as well as she had. Or as well as Chris and Amber had.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">Weird, howe everyone is so nonchnt about demons being a thing?</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Anyways, I got a brief reprieve on Saturday, to prepare myself for the hell that would be Sunday church.


    <span style="font-weight:400">On Sunday morning I got up early again, not bothering to even check how long I had until church, instead spending my valuable time staring at the clothes inhabiting my dresser.


    <b><i>This </i></b><i><span style="font-weight:400">is what I wear?!</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">All my life, I’d always had to wear nice clothes to Sunday church, polos, khaki shorts, and cks. At some point I’d just figured it would be economical to wear that stuff pretty much every day – it meant I didn’t have to make any meaningful fashion decisions beyond what color shirt to wear with what color pants.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Now, thinking about how even a terrible dress had felt like <i><span style="font-weight:400">expressing myself</i><span style="font-weight:400"> as Lily, it struck me how nd and unfeeling my clothes were. Chris wore clothes that said something about himself – the soft warmth of his nnels and the rugged sturdiness of his jeans.


    <span style="font-weight:400">What did it say about me that even <i><span style="font-weight:400">I </i><span style="font-weight:400">thought my clothes were boxy and nd?


    <span style="font-weight:400">It ended up only taking me a few hours to find the least unappealing option in my wardrobe.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It briefly crossed my mind to buy more clothes for my masculine body – it would certainly be the practical choice, given that I would be using it for church and school for the foreseeable future – but, like it had for a long time, the prospect of shopping for men’s clothes filled me with dread.


    <span style="font-weight:400">No, it wasn’t dread, dread was too exciting of a word. The prospect filled me with an empty boredom, a resigned apathy that said I’d rather pick the first three things I saw than spend my time and focus on it.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I wasn’t ready to think about the prospect of buying more women’s clothes, but I did hang up my dress in the closet – a symbolic gesture, given that it still needed to be washed.


    <span style="font-weight:400">After spinning my wheels for as long as I could, it was finally time to go to church.


    <span style="font-weight:400">—


    <span style="font-weight:400">The idea that I could <i><span style="font-weight:400">skip</i><span style="font-weight:400"> church only came when I was already on the short train ride across town. I’d been so worried about everything else and the question of howte I could be without eliciting a longer lecture from my father, that I’d never considered not going at all.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Amber never went to church, although she did have some kind of family gathering on Saturday nights that I’d never gotten the specifics of — she never talked about her family.Chris also didn’t attend church, although <i><span style="font-weight:400">he</i><span style="font-weight:400"> had an event nned during every full moon…


    <span style="font-weight:400">But did the fact that they didn’t attend church make them bad people?


    <span style="font-weight:400">Obviously not, but why did it feel like the standards were different for me? Why was there a guilt there, threatening to overtake me for even thinking about it?


    <span style="font-weight:400">Unfortunately, the rickety sounds of the train held none of the answers I was seeking, nor did the couple of blocks I had to walk from the station to the church.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The sermon, which had just started when I arrived, promised a lot of answers, but given that my father was the one leading the congregation today, I doubted the answers would be satisfactory.


    <span style="font-weight:400">True to my expectations, it was fire and brimstone, don’t sin, etc. for most of an hour, followed by an ufortably long rant about how the morals of the world were tanking. The bigotry wasn’t even thinly veiled.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">He’s a great dad but…</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">I sat next to Sophia again during our study group, and although she yed it cool, not giving anything away to the other people, she gave me a couple of sly looks that unexpectedly made my stomach turn.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She was kind and attractive and studious – so why did it feel like being influenced by her was so wrong?


    <span style="font-weight:400">When she asked me if I wanted a ride home, I declined, making up an errand I needed to take care of on the way home.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The train ride home was the most eventful part of the trip, when I realized that I didn’t have a penis – another in a long list of shapeshifting mistakes I’d made. I didn’t bother feeling shocked about the revtion, nor did I bother shapeshifting to fix it.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I stumbled my way back to my bed and immediately fell asleep, transforming to my demonic form on the way down to the mattress.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">How can such an uneventful day be so exhausting?</i>
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