“Psst, hey. Is anybody staring at me?”
Jason was wondering when she’d ask. “Yeah, they kind of are. Shouldn’t you be changing in the ladies’ locker room?” he tried to ask tactfully.
“What? I can’t change in there!” she whispered, as if he’d just suggested she get changed in the lion cage at the zoo. “What are they looking at?” she asked.
“Well, I mean, it’s not every day that you see a unicorn changing in the locker room,” Jason replied. “Oh, and a girl unicorn at that.” He wondered if this was some kind of practical joke, and if there was a film crew laughing at him over a hidden camera feed somewhere.
“WHAT!?” she shout-whispered, eyes wide and ears flattening against her multi-colored hair. Mane. Whatever. Amazing what they could do with makeup effects these days.
“What do you mean ‘what?’ Why did you think there were a bunch of dudes in here when you walked in?” he asked, trying to play this casually so he didn’t come off as some kind of jackass. He pulled his clean shirt on like nothing was out of the ordinary and checked his wallet before pocketing it.
“How did those get there?” she asked. He glanced over again and saw her staring at her own generous bust like it was the first time she’d noticed. “Omigod what happened to me?” Somehow she was still whispering, her voice straining to keep as quiet as possible. She turned her eyes to Jason with a pleading expression. “When did I look like this?”
“What do you mean?” he said, playing along for now.
“Like… this?” she whispered frustratedly, gesturing up and down her excessively curvy figure.
“I assume you grew into it like most women do, a little bit at a time,” he replied unhelpfully.
“No! I was a guy when I got here!” she insisted, nearly panicking. She eyed the locker room nervously, noticing with new significance the way all the other gym rats were looking over their shoulders or whispering things to each other about her.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, lady,” Jason said, finishing the laces on his sneakers and checking his phone for messages while shouldering his gym bag. “Good luck, I guess.”
“WAIT!” she said as he turned to leave, reaching out to grab him around the elbow. “Please, take me with you, okay? I don’t… I don’t think I have my car keys anymore. Or my phone. Um… can I get a ride somewhere? Pleeeeease?”
“Check your purse,” he suggested flatly.
“Purse? I don’t…” she stopped, blinked, and opened up her locker. There was a change of clothes and a handbag inside. “Is this mine?”
“Well it ain’t mine,” he said. Jason sighed. Maybe just this once, he’d play the mark and ‘fall’ for whatever prank this was. “But if you need a ride, I can get you somewhere as long as it’s not too far out. Where are you going?”
“Bixler building, uptown” she replied, rummaging through her purse and sighing herself as she fished out a set of car keys with a pink rabbit’s foot charm. “I don’t think I can drive right now, please?”
“Okay, that’s not out of my way,” Jason relented. Bixler, eh? She must have a pretty good job or a pretty big trust fund to live there. Why someone with that kind of bank was doing any of this, he couldn’t figure.
“Thanks,” she said, closing her purse and putting her clean clothes into a gym bag. “I appreciate it.”
“Don’t worry about it, we all have those off-days,” Jason said, waving it off and hoping he came across as a nice guy on the recording. He led her out of the locker room and looked around for any obvious film crews or hidden cameras. Nothing caught his eye, but that was to be expected.
“Thanks, I’ll repay the favor somehow,” she said, wrapping her arm around his and hugging in closer as they walked. He looked down, expecting white grease paint to smear onto his skin, but whatever makeup she was using apparently staid put on herself. He glanced at her and caught a contented smile on her face. She looked up and saw him, then seemed flustered and blushed deeply. But she didn’t let go of his arm. “Um… I…” she started, searching for something to say until they reached the door of the gym. He slipped his arm free to open if for her and she reacted like this had never happened before. “Th-thanks!” she squeaked nervously and shimmied through the opened doorway. He offered his hand again, and she regarded it for a second before gently taking it with her own, slightly sweaty palm.
As they reached the car he once again let go of her and unlocked the passenger door, holding it open and looking over to her expectantly, wondering when the reveal was supposed to happen. But instead of camera men and obnoxious hosts rounding the corner to spring the trap on him, there was just the usual crowd of passers-by and the unicorn girl who bit her lip, looked at him gratefully, and passed under his arm to reach the seat. Her face was red and now it was spreading down her neck and onto the top of her chest between the straps of her sports bra. “Thanks again,” she said softly.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied, making sure she was safely seated before firmly closing the door. Maybe this wasn’t a prank after all. He wondered how far she as willing to go, regardless.