Strange Saturday!, Part 7 (Platonic Friends to TG’d Couple) (Patreon)

That moment when you accidentally post Part 8 ahead of schedule. Sorry folks! Here's the real one in sequence now:

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for AnubisForever

Luke and Ava are two platonic friends who confess their feelings of unhappiness with their bodies while attending a music festival together. But when they make a wish to be their ‘true selves’, they quickly find out that not only can wishes come true, but they can come true in utterly unexpected ways! Now stuck as Luna and Aidan, the pair must grapple with their changed identities and strange new feelings for one another, all while exploring their newfound existences, and bodies . . .

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Part 7: Not-Date Night

“Okay, you have got to tell me where we’re going, I’m getting nervous here.”

Aidan chuckled at me. “Oh, nervous on a date? Welcome to womanhood. At least you know you can trust the guy.”

I punched him playfully on the shoulder. “I’m serious! I still don’t know if this was a good idea.”

“You proposed it!”

“Yeah, well, that was until you took over the proceedings with whatever madcap adventure this is going to be.”
 “y'all worry too much. You look good, by the way.”

I smiled. I really did look good. I couldn’t claim to have dressed up fancy or anything. Despite having quite the lovely female body I doubt I was going to be donning any little black dresses or cleavage-exposers anytime soon. Still, I had selected a rather nice red blouse that hung loosely around my waist, and a longer black skirt that almost made it look like a dress with the way the two parts came together. I had gotten better at heels but chose not to wear them; Aidan had also insisted they were not necessary. I had styled my hair just a little, but ended up dissatisfied with it so now it was just in a smart ponytail. My makeup was nice, at least, and I couldn’t fault the way I’d chosen to match my red shirt with my lipstick. I’d even done a little work on my eyelashes, just to see if I could, and the results were pretty damn good. I did look like I was out on a date, and pretty chic besides.

“Thank you,” I said to his comment. “And you don’t look too bad yourself. Blue suits you. It matches your eyes.”

My friend smirked, keeping his eyes on the road but clearly chuffed with the comment. He was wearing a long sleeve button shirt, blue with faint white stripes, the kind of shirt you would wear on a date or to a fancy club. But, in typical Aidan fashion, he’d paired this with some rather casual jeans and runners. Despite the mishmash, he managed to bring it all together, though he was damn smug about having to do very little about his hair.

“Oh this stuff? I just threw it on. Can’t believe I had to wait so long for you to get ready.”

“Please, you were a woman! You’re meant to be a woman! Don’t act like you’re some manly man who doesn’t understand a woman’s preparation to go out, now.”

He chuckled. It was a cute sound. “All I’m sayin’ is that I quite like being able to just go out without all that huff and fuss. But I’ll also say this: waitin’ for you was damn worthwhile. Seriously, Luna, you look amazing.”

I blushed. “It’s not a real date, remember? This is just us celebrating getting over halfway through this ordeal.”

“Yessiree, ma’am. Are you ready for our not-date, then? Because we’re here.”

I looked away from his face to where we were headed, and to my embarrassment I let out something like an excited squeal.

  “The Drive-In Theatre? I’ve not been here in years! I didn’t know it was still running!”

Aidan was clearly happy with my reaction. “It’s only part-time now; each Saturday night and special occasions. And I’d say this is a special occasion.”

“It’s also just, you know, a Saturday.”

“Well, let’s not tell them that.”

He pulled through to the booth and paid for the tickets, insisting that I cover my ears and not pay attention to what was being played. 

“La le la le la le la,” I murmured, a little giddy from the mystery.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now. Tickets acquired. I pre-booked, this is just getting my spot.”

He drove us round to a spot that was a little to the left of the screen. The design of the drive-in had a slight incline down to the enormous screen where the projector would display the film, and this meant that everyone got a decent view. It wasn’t tarmac or anything; in fact, half of it was effectively sealed dirt with white lines spray-painted over. Something about that made it feel even more old school. As we pulled up to a stop I could see a slice of Americana that wouldn’t have been out of place twenty years ago, but now felt like a blast to the past in this modern day of iPhones and streaming; several young couples, some not even in their twenties, were nestled against one another in their cars, also on dates. As the projector lit up, others were even getting out onto the hood of their cars.

“This takes me way back,” I said. “I took a woman named Shelby on our first date here. She didn’t like Alien much, though. That was a bad choice.”

“Or maybe she just wasn’t the right woman,” Aidan said.

“Maybe. Yeah, we didn’t work out. It was still a good night though. The frights certainly put her in my arms.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

I turned to him, aghast. “You did not select a horror movie night, did you? You know that I’m way more jumpy and emotional now that I’m a woman. All these anxious hormones, I swear!”

He just shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

I fumed silently for a bit as several ads played, as well as the usual warnings about turning off the headlights, not leaving the cars running, avoiding cell phone sounds and lights, etcetera. A few trailers played, and this was also part of the appeal, because they were all trailers for films that had come out ages ago. The Drive-In had this wonderful guessing game for people that were driven up without knowing the movie, like Aidan was doing for me now. You watched the trailers and had to guess the time period, and hopefully you could then guess the film from there.

“Is it Indiana Jones?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“Star Wars?” 

“You don’t even like Star Wars, and you know I ain’t into that.”

“What about The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly?” 

“Swing and a miss, honey. I picked this one tailored, alright? You’re thinking too much with a boy brain. Get your girlhood on.”

I felt a little insulted by that, but tried to rack my brain. I was coming up empty, and in the end Aidan just chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough. It’s about to start.”

The projector flickered, beginning the film on the giant blank billboard. It even did the classic film countdown effect, at which point the introduction began. 

“When Harry Met Sally!” I declared, recognising the introduction. “This is a classic. I’ve not seen this film in forever.”

“Seemed appropriate for a not-date night,” Aidan said. “Just don’t get any ideas or be too frisky like our young friends over there.”

He indicated to a pair of probably eighteen-year olds who were already making out, even before any actual romance had come up onscreen. I rolled my eyes.

“I think I’ll contain myself. There’s an intermission, right? Or are we having food after the film?”

At that, Aidan surprised me further. He got a mischievous look in his eye, then exited the car entirely. He opened up the trunk, took out a large picnic basket, and gestured me to hurry up and join him on the bonnet of the car.

“Are you serious?” I mouthed to him through the glass.

“C’mon, y'all are missing the movie!” he uttered, before sitting up in such a way as to deliberately block my view anyway.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Ava had always been a bit of a trickster, and clearly hadn’t changed too much as Aidan. 

“Looks like it’s yet another strange Saturday for me,” I groaned, getting out of the car. The air wasn’t too cold, but Aidan had already thrown a comfortable and thick picnic blanket over his car’s hood for us to sit on. It was rather comfortable, but best of all was the contents of the picnic basket.

“You’ve got to be joking,” I said, looking over the contents within. There were fine cheeses and biscuits for them to go on, slices of rich salami and kabana, as well as flavoured dips. There were full blown scones, with tubs of raspberry and cream to top them with, and for a larger main two chicken salad wraps that appeared to have been made by Aidan personally. There was also a wine bottle - a lovely Pinot Noir, in fact - and two wine glasses for us to share, as well as some non-alcoholic drinks so we didn’t, presumably, end up unable to drive on home.

“Do you want to have what I’m having?” he said with a grin.

I giggled. “We’re not even close to that line! And it refers to a sex thing!”

“Well, food can be better than sex, especially when someone secretly makes it up when their friend doesn’t know. Half of this was whipped up while you were getting yourself ready, by the way.”

“Oh, har, har. Pass me the biscuits and cheese. Ooh, is that fetta?”

We began to eat, and Aidan brought out the wine for us to share. It was indeed delicious, though I didn’t want to drink too much too quickly: I was keenly aware that my own ability to hold my alcohol had diminished now that my body was smaller and more petite. I imagined I could get pretty tipsy pretty easily. Slowly, we became absorbed in the movie, cackling with the audience and other hood-sitters as the jokes flew, and even ‘awwing’ at the sweeter romantic moments that built between the eponymous pair. We ate from Aidan’s picnic basket, and I was once again thankful that my friend had gone this extra mile. Ava had always claimed that the life of a housewife was not for her, especially since she couldn’t cook. It turns out that she was a damn liar, or just didn’t realise how good she was with food. He now, really. I utterly devoured the chicken salad wrap he’d made, before returning to the delicious platter he’d put together.The diner scene arrived, of course, and we all shouted the line along with the film’s most memorable one-scene wonder.

“I’LL HAVE WHAT SHE’S HAVING!”

The pair of us giggled, and by this point I was in such a state of relaxation that I didn’t even think about the fact that I was leaning against my best friend, enveloped in his protective touch. The air was starting to get just a little chilly despite the usually warmer weather this time of year, and so his own warmth also comforted me. He placed a casual hand around my waist, and I didn’t fight that either. I should have, I knew but this date was so perfect and the mood so fine that I let it pass. The wine must have been going to my head a little, because I sighed and confessed something.

“Aidan, this is going to sound really, really strange, but . . .

“But?”

I kept my eyes on the screen, taking in the movie, but in a way it was background noise compared to where my mental focus was. I knew he was doing the same.

“But this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” I replied.

“You know what, Luna? I can safely say the same. Of course, I did plan it . . .”

I giggled, and used the excuse to nestle further against him. My heart did not beat quicker like the last few times something like this had occurred. No, instead of nervousness, a sense of peace came over me, an almost . . . romantic calm. As if there were no place I’d rather be. As if, were I to fall asleep right at that second, I would do so without any fear of anything happening to me, because my protector would be right there.

“You’re comfortable,” I said, after drinking another glass of wine.

“And you’re getting a little tipsy, I think,” Aidan said.

“What makes you say that?”

“One, you always hate it when people talk over a movie, yet here you are. And two, I’m sorry to tell you this, Luna, but girls always get a little bit handsy when they’re tipsy.”

I realised I had been rubbing his chest softly with one hand and pulled it away. I could feel my cheeks getting rosy.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be, I don’t mind it. But maybe let’s watch the film?”

We did so. By the end, I was practically weeping, despite it not really being that kind of film. When Harry made his midnight confession of love to Sally, was rebuffed, and then listed all the true reasons why he did indeed love her, I couldn’t help but get teary-eyed. I had to sob silently, wiping my tears away in a manner I hoped Aidan wouldn’t notice. I think he obviously did, but he didn’t say a thing, and part of my heart grew three sizes just to think that. I truly felt like a lady, in many ways, particularly when the credits rolled and this enormous cathartic release came over me. People (idiots, really) think that women are more emotional in the sense that they are unable to control their emotions, and therefore unreasonable and impractical. I hadn’t thought that way for a long, long time, but perhaps some biases lingered. Now, being a woman, I understood it completely. Women were more emotional . . . when it came to outwardly expressing emotions in a healthy way. I didn’t feel a pressure not to cry or even blubber a bit, or to feel pangs of pain when things didn’t go right for others, or even to talk about my feelings, even with Aidan. But as a man, I’d been just as emotional. Different emotions stirred to the surface - anger, a protective instinct, etcetera - but they were still emotions. But expressing them had been hard, especially the ‘wrong’ emotions. I understood that now, which was why it was so damn freeing to simply stop trying to hide it, and openly wipe my eyes and sniffle a little.

It was then that Aidan finally complimented. “Good movie, huh?”

“The b-best. Can I have a t-tissue?”

Apparently, he had those prepared too.

“Don’t worry yerself, this film always made me laugh and cry at the same time when I was a girl.”

“And now?”

He smiled. “The feelings are still there. I guess I’m just a little more stoic now. Or maybe I just want to stay strong so we don’t both start blubbering.”

I giggled at that. Other cars were starting to leave, but we stayed on the hood of the car longer, eating the remaining snacks and drinking more wine.

“Are you sure you’re right to drive?” I asked.

“Please, I’m a right cowboy now. I feel fit as a fiddle!”

And with that, as I collected our things to get back in the car, he did the unthinkable; he actually slapped me on the rear. It was a light slap, but I twisted my head, shocked.

“How dare you!”

“Just getting you back from that one frisky time when we took a trip to see my family in Dallas.”

I couldn’t even fume. I wanted to. I should have. But as usually goes in these things, especially when alcohol is involved, I instead burst out into a series of giggles.

“You do that again and I’ll slap you right back, and not in a fun place! C’mon then ‘cowboy.’ Drive a tipsy gal home. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Damn right it is,” he said, tipping an imaginary Texas ranger hat. He got into his seat and reversed out of the park, then drove us back onto the road and then onto the highway. My stomach was full of bubbles, and not in a bad way. 

It was getting a lot harder not to put my hands all over my friend, no matter how wrong it would be. Of course, when you’re a little drunk, there’s a lot that doesn’t feel wrong at all anymore.