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by grapehyacinth

Roman's younger cousin Bobby exploded through our front door. He threw his suitcase to the ground and shouted, “Damn it, Roman, make me a nail clipper!”

My husband quietly shut the door behind him. “I thought you wanted to be a llama.”

“Nah, too cold for that right now.”

Bobby looked suspiciously like Roman. He had the same dark hair and brownish eyes. But he was also a good fifty pounds heavier, and perhaps an inch or two shorter. He obviously noticed that Roman was checking him out, because he shrugged.

“Yeah, I'm getting pretty heavy. Stress eating. Maybe you'll change me before I leave so I'm a bit more svelte?”

“Don't you think your wife will notice?”

“Erica? Probably not. We're both so busy with work we hardly even look at each other.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, but wisely didn't pry further. “How are the kids?” he asked, picking up the suitcase and walking to our extra room. We were planning (and praying) that this room would eventually be our child's room. Right now it would serve as a guest room, where Roman had created a temporary bed for his cousin.

Bobby stamped his foot. “Kids, schmids. Cut the small talk, Roman, and turn me into a nail clipper already! I need to be changed! Desperately!” He tossed his coat to the side and stripped to his boxers.

My husband continued on into the room without replying, and I ended up standing there like an idiot.

“I'm Corrie,” I said unevenly.

Bobby blushed a little and attempted to cover himself up a bit. “Sorry, Corrie. I guess I'm being a bit rude. Nice to meet you. It's just, I haven't been transformed for so long, and it's killing me.” He reached out and shook my hand.

I sighed. “Yeah, I can totally understand that.”

“I'm Bob. Roman's the only one who calls me Bobby anymore, but I'll answer to either name.”

I paused, trying to think of what to say. “Why do you want to be a nail clipper?”

“Why not?” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together in excitement. He launched himself onto the couch. “I don't know how much Roman has changed you, so I guess it sounds weird, but–”

I was quick to reassure him. “It doesn't sound weird at all. I love to be changed. I'd rather be a...fork all day than a person,” Bobby smiled at this, “but is a nail clipper that fun?”

“More than a fork! The change...well, you'll see how Roman does it to me... nice and slow.”

I didn't want to tell him how X-rated that sounded, so I just kept quiet.

“What an awesome transformation – the shrinking, the hardening into metal, and then when someone uses you... Hell, what a feeling!”

Okay, he was getting me going here, too. “Really?”

“You bite through someone's nail, that snip–”

That's when Roman walked back in. “Listen to this guy, will you?” he quipped, walking over to his cousin and grabbing his arm. “Come on, let's get this done with.”

Bobby was shaking as he arranged himself on the floor. “Corrie, you want to be one too? You have to try it,” he called out to me.

“She can't,” Roman said. “She's expecting.”

Bobby popped back up. “Oh, wow! I had had no idea! Congrats! It's early, huh? You think it'll be like you, Roman?” he queried, lying back down on the floor.

“Don't know, don't know,” my husband responded distractedly. “Legs or arms first?”

Again, Bobby sat up. “Hey, do arms this time. Corrie'll love it!”

“Enjoy,” Roman said, clasping his arms together. They quickly merged until Bobby had one, well...appendage, which he flapped up and down.

“Ha, ha! I'm a seal!” he cried.

“That hardly makes you a seal.” Roman set on Bobby's lower half next. His feet merged first, and the rest of his legs joined from there. The result, like his arms, was still flesh and blood, so he actually looked like he had some kind of horrible birth defect.

But Bobby apparently loved it. He tried to flap his leg-part, but promptly fell to his side. “Oops!” he laughed. Lying helpless on the floor, he touched his arm and leg-parts together like some kind of crazy scissors. It was incredibly weird – even from my standpoint.

“Okay, Roman, I'm needing some shrinking and shaping here. I feel the urge...to merge!”

“We merged you already, dummy. Let's do the rest.”

Roman picked him back up by grabbing his arm-part. Fascinated, I watched Bobby actually compress – his arm and leg parts moved closer together as his trunk shortened. His head stretched back towards his neck so he was facing the ceiling. His mouth was widening side to side, and his lips and teeth merged together, soon sporting a sharp edge.

“Ah, my clipper's forming! I clip nails with what was my mouth! Don't you love the whole idea, Corrie?”

Yeah, whatever...

He didn't wait for a response, not that I had one. “Metallicize me, Roman! Come on, I want to harden up already!”

Roman said something under his breath as his shrinking cousin grew shiny.

“Oh, God! It's...sooo...goooooddd... Use me...” Bobby's voice died away as his face became the head of a nail clipper, and he stiffened into an everyday object.

I stared at the clipper, which quivered here and there.

“Want to watch TV?” Roman asked off-handedly.

The nail clipper gave a violent shudder.

“Oh, come on, Bobby, you need her to use you right now?”

So Bobby wanted me to use him. Granted, my nails were kind of ragged. But using Roman's cousin to fix them was weird. And, I hated to admit it to myself, but the fact that he'd enjoy it, well, it made me jealous.

“So you tell her! I'll give you back your voice!”

Another shudder.

“Fine, you're just a nail clipper. They can't talk, so you don't want to.” He fetched up his object-cousin and tossed him into my hand. “Hurry up with her, Bobby. I need her.”

“For what?” I inquired curiously.

“To watch TV with.”

Bobby was shuddering so violently in my hands that I could hardly keep him still. He felt like any normal nail clipper, smooth with a slight raised area to grip him on both sides. I gave him an experimental pinch in the air, and he emitted a sharp click.

“Hope I don't break him,” I said nervously. I couldn't say I'd ever used a person to clip my nails before.

“Nah, he loved that,” Roman tossed out from where he sat on the couch.

As jealous as I was, I tried to sit back from the situation. It wasn't Bobby's fault that I couldn't change. He had nothing to do with it, so why ruin his fun? He hadn't done anything wrong. And he was so excited, I could actually feel him growing warm. I had no idea how that was possible.

Slowly but firmly, I positioned him over my thickest nail and held him there.

“Oh, you're killing him. The suspense is driving him mad.”

I snapped off my nail, brandishing the clipper in the air. “Nice job, Bobby!”

I swear, I could almost feel pride emanating from the object.

“He wants more,” Roman announced. “Every nail. Toenails too.”

“I'll see what I can do,” I said, and set to work.

I finished up my nails, trying not to think that the clipper was really a person. A crazy, transformation-obsessed person. And no, I was not as insane with changing as Bobby was.

Well, not totally...

“Bobby says thank you, and he wants you to put him in a drawer with your other grooming things,” Roman announced, approaching where I sat.

“He wants to sit in a drawer all day?” I held out the object.

“He says that's where he belongs. He's a nail clipper, so he needs to be used and stored as one.”

“But...”

“He's not a person anymore, Corrie! He's a nail clipper!”

I was surprised at Roman's brusqueness, even more so when he grabbed up his cousin and deposited him in my makeup drawer.

“That's not where I keep my nail clippers,” I muttered.

“It is now,” Roman said, walking away.

The next morning, Roman wanted to check in on Tammy. She was in jail for attempted murder (of my professor and me), and Roman had promised to look in on her from time to time to make sure she wasn't planning on killing anyone else. Even though I was feeling rather nauseous, I figured I'd join him. It was winter break, after all.

“Hey Mr. Nail Clipper,” Roman yelled out, “I could use a car right now.”

There was a slight pause, and then I heard a small voice answer, “Don't you have your own?”

“You decided to let him talk?” I asked.

“Yeah, in case he got tired of being locked in a drawer.” He raised his voice. “Yes, but driving a brand-new one, particularly a newly-transformed one, is much more fun.” He winked at me.

“Oh, my God, yes!”

Roman retrieved the shiny nail clipper, which was quivering with excitement. He brought it back to human form, and Bobby rushed at me. “Oh, thanks for using me!” He grabbed up my hand and peered at my nails, then held my fingers up to show Roman. “Look at the amazing job I did! I swear, Roman, I'm a better nail clipper than a real nail clipper!”

“Yes, most definitely.” Roman rolled his eyes. “Come on outside, Bobby. I'm changing you out back.”

Bobby followed Roman almost worshipfully. “Gosh, Corrie, changing into a car... Roman used to do that with me all the time when I was young. He drove me cross-country once, and it was damn...invigorating! And the transformation alone, your very organs turning into pipes, and a gas tank, and... a motor...”

“She gets it, Bobby,” Roman murmured, opening the back door and ushering Bobby out. “You coming, Corrie?”

“I'm cold,” I lied. I kind of didn't want to see Bobby enjoying himself.

“Aw, put on a coat! Come on! Watch me change! It's not often I get an audience! It's really... I don't know, the idea of someone watching me transform...”

“There's ladies present, you sicko,” Roman warned.

“I'll watch from the window,” I forced myself to reply.

And I did. Honestly, I couldn't take my eyes off it. After seeing how creative Bobby's nail clipper metamorphosis had been, I realized I had to watch him become a car, and I was well-rewarded. I even opened the window so I could hear every moan and groan.

“Make me awesome and fast,” Bobby begged, getting down on all fours.

“Bobby, I know you're an awesome sports car. But I'm driving my pregnant wife to a jail. We need to tone you down a bit, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, I've been human too long. I resolved to be human as little as possible these few days. Make me into a car, already! I need wheels!”

And with Roman's touch, Bobby's hands darkened. He balled them into fists just in time for them to start expanding. They took on the shape of wheels, and softened into rubber. A perfect set of tires now were attached to the end of his arms, and he smacked them together joyfully. “Ha, ha! I won my wheels!”

“Get them back on the ground! I'm doing your feet now.”

Bobby nearly fell forward as his feet began the same process. I noticed Roman did them quicker than the front wheels, maybe so Bobby wouldn't loose his balance. But then, unlike the slow, constant changes Roman usually did to me, Roman paused, allowing Bobby to totter around on wheels. It was a weird sight, a man chuckling and rolling back and forth with wheels at the end of his limbs.

“Hey, Corrie, what do you think of my set of wheels?” Bobby called to me.

“Lovely,” I replied. I wanted wheels.

“Ready to move on?” Roman asked. I could see he was trying to be patient with his cousin, as changing seemed to be therapy for him. But I knew my husband also wanted to get on with his own plans.

“Yeah, get rid of this silly skin and these bones!” Bobby raised a wheel for emphasis, but his changes resumed and his arm stiffened in place.

Roman gently eased it back down. “Become a nice car for me,” he murmured, working his hand up Bobby's changing arm.

“Gladly.” Bobby's voice was becoming more echo-y. He groaned as his limbs shrank into his wheels. All of him coalesced – from head to hips. His back arched as he expanded into more of a car shape. He was shaking violently.

“Ah, the inner changes...it's like a party going on inside of me!”

Roman smirked, hard at work. “Did you really say that, Bobby?”

“Damn, I'm solidifying inside...”

“And you're losing your mouth outside.”

“Let me talk through the radioooooo....” Bobby's voice faded away as his already-large metallic lips formed into a shiny grille.

“Sure, Bobby. When you have one,” Roman smiled to me. “Meanwhile, silence is golden!”

But the car still managed to moan and shudder through its final changes. Bobby's eyes widened into headlights, and he grew transparent where his windows formed. He gave a great shake, and became still.

But his radio crackled to life. “Holy crap, I can't tell you how amazing I feel! I'm sleek and shiny and...I'm the best car ever! Please, turn me on!”

Roman rolled his eyes again. “Corrie, grab your coat and lets go. Although I think our car is turned on enough.”

I came back to see Roman studying his cousin.

“What'd you make me?” the car asked.

“You're a Caddy,” my husband answered.

“Oh, you remember that one your parents had?”

“My parents had several Cadillacs. When I was young,” he blushed a bit, “that was the car to have.”

“You old man, you!” the car chuckled.

“He came out nice,” I murmured, admiring Bobby's smooth, dark finish.

“Hm. Wonder if he's road-worthy?”

“Hey, I heard that! I'm damned road-worthy! Probably more than most cars that used to be people!”

“And how many of those are out there?”

“Well, I'm sure there's got to be some!”

Honestly, the ride to jail was uneventful. Bobby kept chattering the whole time, outlining every sensation he felt. His wheels were sensitive, the dust hitting against his windshield tickled... He wasn't too happy with Roman's gentle driving, either.

“Crank me up to ninety!”

“No! Corrie'll get sick! She already feels horrible! Think about someone else other than your four-wheeled...” Roman rolled his eyes instead of bothering to finish.

The car was silent for a whole blessed moment. “Sorry, Corrie. I don't want to hurt you. Having a baby inside of you must be such a wonderful experience. Roman, if you made me a woman, could I have a baby?”

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, feeling guilty. Wasn't I supposed to be incredibly excited that Roman and I were expecting a child? I had been so worried that it wouldn't happen.

It was just that little seed of doubt in the back of my mind that wouldn't go away...

Roman had transformed me after we'd conceived. Was that a bad thing?

I sighed and looked out Bobby's window.

“Don't you need to make an appointment with an Ob/Gyn?” Roman asked as we walked down the hall to meet Tammy.

I blinked for a moment. I hadn't even thought about this. It was so early in my pregnancy that I'd only just started looking into pregnancy-related things. And since my mother was at present a horse, there would be no discussing it with her. We'd just had all kinds of issues with her and my stepfather – my stepfather's son learned that his father was a horse father-to-be, and he was making all kinds of trouble for us.

“Roman, by the way, I was thinking about the whole thing with Dave saying the barn at my mom's house was illegal, and you said you took care of it. How'd you get a permit? You said you gave the permit guy whatever he asked for...What did you give him?”

Roman paused, smiling. “Oh, the permit guy? He was a strange one.”

“Well?”

“He wanted a million dollars, like everyone else. I created some gems for him. They should add up to close to that.”

“And?”

“Well, he goes, 'you can do anything at all?' and I said, 'well, I can't time travel.'” Roman winked at me.

“So what did you do?”

“He wanted to be turned into a statue in the town square so everyone would admire him.”

“Okay, that's nice, I guess.”

“A statue of a horse.”

“Uh,” I coughed, “Okay... But who's going to give out permits?”

“Oh, it's not permanent. And the mayor was more than happy when I told him we were going to display a famous Rodin sculpture in the town square for a bit.”

“You know the mayor?”

“Oh, yes. He and my 'father', 'Roman Senior', were great friends. Now we are.”

Yes, Roman was so old he had to pose as his own son.

“You'll have to show the statue to me.”

“Oh, I will. He's enjoying his new form immensely. Oh, heeeeeeere's Tammy!”

We entered a door that said, “Visiting Room”. Tammy sat on a metal folding chair, staring blankly at a wall. The guard that watched over her walked out of the room to give us privacy.

“Hello, Tammy!”

Tammy must have jumped five feet at the sound of Roman's voice. She turned to him with a mix of fear and anger. “Come to gloat with your wife this time?”

“I'm checking in as usual,” Roman said. “How are you?”

“How am I? I'm in jail! What do you think? And why are we in the visiting room? Last time you popped into my cell and talked to me as a sparrow.”

“That's because you didn't have me on your visiting list.”

“I didn't have a visiting list.” She paused, her face falling. “I really don't have anyone who wants to visit me.”

No one said anything for a moment.

“So... Things agreeing with you here?”

Agreeing? I almost wanted to slap Roman for that comment.

Apparently Tammy did too, understandably. “Agreeing? Are you crazy?”

“No.”

Tammy took several seconds. She reddened, drawing her hands into fists. “I hate it! I hate behaving, and keeping all the anger boxed in!”

“That's what therapy's for! You let it out ever again, and boxed in you'll be!”

Before I could react, Tammy was darkening and folding in on herself. Her arms and legs became flaps, she toppled onto her back in surprise, and, well...imploded. She was left on the floor, shaking in anger, now nothing but a cardboard box – that had retained its mouth.

“You can't...do this stuff to me!” she shrieked.

“I just did,” Roman tossed off airily.

“Someone will see! They'll find out! They'll put YOU in jail!”

“No, but I'm sure many moving companies would love to have you. Shall I donate you to one?”

“Damn it, turn me back. I'm sorry I said anything.”

When Tammy was human, she cast her eyes to the floor. “Sorry,” she repeated. “I'm really trying. It's just hard.”

“Remember, Tammy, you are putty in my hands. Leaving you here is a mercy. I could bring you home and use you as whatever I want for the rest of your life.”

Tammy looked away.

“I'm hungry for pizza, Corrie,” he turned to me.

Tammy's jaw dropped. “Are you going to turn her into one and eat her?” she gasped.

Roman actually cringed. “God, what do you think I am, a cannibal?”

“It's going to take a while for that girl to come around,” Roman muttered as we left.

“You were kind of short with her,” I pointed out.

“Yes, I have very little patience for her. I admit it. I'd love to turn her into a paperweight and be done with her.”

Roman and I got into our new car, which, if I didn't know any better, seemed to be smiling. Well, actually I did know better, and it most certainly was smiling.

“Take us home, Bobby!” Roman ordered.

“Oh, yeah! Gotta get back. This car's got plans, Roman!” came through the radio.

“I bet,” Roman grumbled.

“Roman, why are you acting so annoyed?” I asked as we got into bed that night.

“I just wish Bobby had come at a better time. I don't want to stress you, and I know you feel bad that you can't change... I know he's a pain in the butt. Do me a favor, just humor him. He'll be gone in a day or two.”

“I did humor him.” I held up my hands. “I used him, didn't I?”

“And how would you rate his performance?”

“I could be a better one,” I smirked, cuddling into his arms. “A better nail clipper, that is.”

“I bet you could. I bet you could.” He looked into my eyes. “How do you feel?”

Really, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel. Was everything normal? “A little nauseous, a little...fluttery...”

“Fluttery?” Roman laughed. “You're not a bird right now. You know that, right?”

“I only wish I was.”

“Roman, EAT ME!”

I can't even begin to describe my thoughts on hearing Bobby's outburst from the living room the next morning. I slid out of the empty bed and threw on a bathrobe, my heart pounding. When I entered the room, the scene was quite different than what I imagined. Roman sat on the chair, legs crossed, calmly reading a magazine. In the middle of the floor sat a croissant, which was twitching.

“Damn it, do it, Roman! Why the hell are you so scared?”

“Because I'm not murdering you, Bobby. I've been telling you that since we were kids. Get over it.” He turned a page and continued to read.

“Oh, come on! I think I'll just be digested. I'll go through your body–”

“Eww! And you'll end up in the toilet!” I couldn't help but exclaim.

Roman looked up at me placidly. “Pleasant guy, isn't he?”

“Come on! It'll be an awesome experiment! I'm so tasty, and flaky...so much of me is just butter, dripping onto the floor...”

Rising, Roman placed down the magazine. “And if that experiment fails, and my stomach juices result in your untimely end, then what?”

“It might just be worth it. I won't have to deal with my wife anymore.”

Angered, Roman walked up to the pastry. “Come on, Bobby. I'll do what you want me to do to you, but I'm not killing you, and I'm not hungry anyway.” He walked away, leaving me standing there.

I found myself growing jealous again. Bobby looked so comfortable like that. It was so nice to be soft, and baked goods were such a lovely form to be in. I'd have to be a croissant when it was possible again.

“What's it feel like?” I asked. “Is it nice?”

“God, I just want to be eaten...it's what I'm for... Can you imagine just...melting away on someone's tongue? It was such a nice change, too. I'm down on my side, curling in so I'm practically touching my toes...Then I start to soften. Ah, I love being soft.”

“Me too. One of the first things Roman made me was a cupcake. I love being food.”

“Yeah, then I'm shrinking... I love becoming small.”

“God, yes.”

“I'm losing all humanity, running all together, getting light and airy, yet my very outsides are getting crispy...”

“Oh, God! I wish I could change!” I burst out.

“Would you just...press on my crust a little bit...”

Roman paused in the doorway. “Crazy sicko.”

I glanced at my husband. “Is that ok?”

“He's a chunk of bread, not a man. You're touching baked goods.”

When I poked the croissant, it shuddered and let out such a moan, that I pulled back disgusted.

“Why'd you stop? More, please! More!”

“That's gross! You're totally feeling it...”

Roman and Bobby laughed at my embarrassment. Furious, I rushed back into my bedroom, Roman following on my heels. He was still chuckling.

“Corrie, come on, it's okay!”

“You made me touch him! I can't believe I did it! He enjoyed it!”

“Oh, Corrie. He's just bread. Touching bread isn't wrong.”

“It's a man that's bread, he's not my husband, and he's extremely stimulated by my touch. I know! I've been a few things in my time! It's disgusting that I touched him and you encouraged it”

“Oh, Corrie. It's my cousin. He's a sick bastard, and you made his day!”

“You made me do it!” I knew I sounded like a two-year-old, but my stomach was twisting and turning, and I felt disgusting.

“I did not, Corrie! You have free will, you know!”

“Go eat your cousin, Roman!” I screamed. Roman stamped out.

I flung myself on the bed. Everything ached inside me. I wanted to be left alone.

“We're going out to change, Corrie!” Roman called out in a cold voice later.

“I'm going to be a slug, then a rhino, then a porcupine–”

“Quit it, Bobby. You hungry, Corrie?”

I didn't answer him.

“Food in the fridge, then. See you later.”

Incensed that they were leaving me, I sat bolt upright in bed. “When will you be back? It's New Years Eve!”

Roman poked his head in the door. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. Not that you care.”

“If you need me to stay, I will.”

“I'll be fine. Go be...stuff.”

He gazed at me a bit. “We'll be back before midnight.”

I sat sobbing on my bed in a heap. Then I felt a twinge in my side. Roman's suggestion to get an Ob-Gyn appointment was probably a good idea, so I located one and made an appointment. After that, I cried for a while more. I missed Roman. And I really disliked Bobby.

I came in to watch the New Year's Eve ball go down with Roman and Bobby, only to find them curled up on the couch together, watching TV...as snakes.

Tears came to my eyes, and before they saw me, I ducked back around the corner. But they were talking out loud, and Bobby was laughing. Laughing snakes were bizarre to see.

“I swear, my whole body vibrates when I talk,” Bobby cried.

“Well, that's because snakes can't talk,” Roman replied, slithering onto the remote control. “I might need to grow some fingers to switch this.”

“Roman, you know I can't thank you enough for the last few days. I feel like a new man.”

“Well, you're a new snake.”

“It's been so hard... My marriage is falling apart, my law firm's going down the tubes...”

“I didn't know. What's going on with Erica?”

The first snake sighed. “She told me she doesn't love me, never has, and she's tired of pretending.”

“So why the hell did she agree to marry you?”

“Probably all my money. Damn, Roman, turn me into an object. I want to be inanimate.”

“I was enjoying watching with you.”

“You still can. Just make me a...” Bobby looked up then and spied me eavesdropping from around the corner. “You choose, Corrie. Pick a good form for me. What do you like to be?”

I came over, feeling guilty. Hearing that Bobby's life wasn't all rosy and full of fun made me dislike him less. “Well, that's a tough one. I have so many favorite forms–”

“The weirder the better!”

Roman shot into human form, throwing his hands in the air. “Oh, Bobby! I know exactly what you need! I haven't played you in ages!”

The remaining snake beamed. “Yes! A guitar! Do it the TV way!”

“What's the TV way?” I had to ask.

“Oh, when he was young he saw it on some kid's show.”

“Yeah, maybe Sesame Street or something? There's some guy, and he's trying to do 'G is for...' but he doesn't have any 'G' objects, so he turns himself into a guitar, and someone plays him.”

“He likes how the guitar-guy laughs when he's played. 'G' is for giggle, you know?”

“Come on, Roman! Start me from human form!”

Bobby was human for only seconds before Roman set to work. The now-happy man held his breath as his arms disappeared into his sides and his legs melded together. From where his feet had been, a set of tuning pegs popped from both sides. For a moment, his head seemed to actually inflate before his whole upper half began to flatten and hollow out. He was turning a pretty mahogany color, and I didn't bother to disguise my envy. His smiling mouth widened into a hole for his sound hole, and he started to shake as he hardened into wood. A set of strings sprouted into place, and the instrument grew still.

But Bobby's eyes remained ingrained in the wood, shut tightly in ecstasy.

“Play me,” the instrument shuddered, eyes still closed.

Roman gathered his cousin up. He knocked on the wood, and a hollow thump resulted.

The instrument groaned gleefully. “Ah, that echoes all through me. Play me. I need to be played.”

“Remember when you talk, you're closing your sound hole up. That effects your tone.”

“Oh, God, Roman, who cares! I need to be used!”

With a twinkle in his eye, Roman lightly strummed his cousin's strings. This set the instrument into hysterics. “Oo, it tickles, it's...don't tease me, damn it, Roman! Play me for real!”

Roman settled the guitar into his lap and began to run through all types of songs. Bobby had a marvelous, mellow sound when he wasn't giggling and moaning. We counted down the end of the year, my husband, his guitar-cousin, and me, and saw in the new year. It seemed full of hope, and I wished the best for all of us.

And Roman played his smiling, blissful cousin far into the night.

“Bobby's going home today, so I'm taking him out for his own little transform-a-thon. Want to come?” Roman offered the next morning. He said nothing further about yesterday's little outburst, and I remained silent on the issue.

“Not really,” I murmured. And it wasn't just the jealousy thing. I felt extremely tired, and trudging around after different animals was the last thing I wanted to do.

They went off, leaving me there, alone and sick. The hopeful feelings of last night had worn off, and I felt angry once more. How dare they leave me? All I wanted was to be with them, my body twisting and shifting into weirder and weirder things, escaping this growing urge to vomit... Now, finally, I knew how my mother felt when Dad would go out and change with Roman. He was gone for hours on end, and Mom didn't want to know the truth. She just figured he was cheating on her...

I almost felt like Roman was cheating on me. And I felt empty inside.