Grant’s heart sunk into his stomach. Was Sam not the only guest that would be living with them? Had Andy gone ahead and invited all his old elementary school friends to live with them? “So, uh, you’re going to be staying with us?” Grant asked. He tried to force a smile to be polite, but what he really wanted to do was storm upstairs and grab Andy by the collar. They only had the one spare bedroom, and Grant worked from home—he couldn’t have a whole flock of strangers bumming around while he was trying to work.
“A few weeks—Andy said that it was fine,” Sarah said with a concerned, glowing eyes.
“Oh yeah, totally fine,” Grant said, forcing another smile. Then he faked a laugh, which he thought was probably going too far.
At least the girl was pretty. She was petite and tight and smooth and her face was gorgeous. She would be nice to look at over the next few weeks—until she started bringing guys home from the bars. Grant was going to have to man up and make some house rules for the guests—however many there were: no parties, no strangers, and no fooling around.
“Where should I put my suitcase?” Sarah asked.
Grant didn’t know what to tell her. The guest room had been made up for Sam. There was an air mattress in the boiler room, but Grant couldn’t possibly send Sarah down to sleep in a boiler room for three weeks. “Well, uh, I’m not sure where Andy had in mind,” Grant said, looking around. He looked at the couch and found himself feeling bad about that, too—he couldn’t let a pretty, young woman sleep on the stiff old couch… Maybe Grant could give Sarah his room, and he could sleep on the couch. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do…
“No worries,” Sarah said. She started looking around the house—checking out pictures and knickknacks. She laughed at an old picture of Andy. In the picture, Andy was stumbling down the street, drunk. “Is that Andy?” she said.
“Yeah—he was really wasted that night,” Grant said. “That was a couple of years ago, before he started growing that terrible moustache.”
“He had a moustache?” Sarah asked with a big smile.
“Had? He still has it,” Grant said. Sarah laughed.
“Oh man, it’s been so long,” she said. And then she went back to admiring photos along the mantle.
Grant watched her closely. He looked up the stairs towards Andy’s bedroom. He could still hear Andy mashing away at his controller. His game wasn’t nearly about to be finished, so Grant was stuck entertaining. “So how do you know Andy?” Grant asked.
“We went to school together—many years ago. We were close friends and then I moved away before junior high. There wasn’t Facebook or anything like that back then—well, I guess there was MySpace and that other one… but I never really got into any of that, and I doubt Andy was ever into that kind of thing. So we never really kept touch, until recently.”
“And you were friends with Sam then, too?” Grant asked.
Sarah’s lip curled into a smile. She was about to respond when Andy yelled, “Fuck!” up in his bedroom. Grant turned and looked at the closed door. Sarah’s attention was stolen as well. A moment later, the door opened and Andy emerged. “Sorry—I’m done. Sorry that took so long,” he said as he rushed down the stairs. He was still in his pyjama pants, which he’d been in all day. “Hi,” he said to Sarah, once he noticed her—but it wasn’t the ‘hi’ that Grant was expecting. It even sounded like Andy had no idea who the woman was standing in the middle of his living room.
She didn’t reply. She just raised her arms up and smiled, as if to say, ‘Don’t you remember me?’ And now Grant found himself feeling very confused. What was happening? Was Sarah not invited?
“I just remembered that there’s some laundry that needs folded,” Grant said before turning towards the basement stairs. He looked back at Sarah and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Sarah.” Grant got out of there before things got too much more awkward.
CHAPTER II
Walking up to that house wasn’t easy for Sarah—ringing the doorbell wasn’t easy, either. She kept assuring herself that it would be fine, and it seemed like it was going to be fine, until she saw Andy, her old friend from elementary school.
When his expression dropped, after the roommate went downstairs to fold laundry, she knew that he knew she used to be Sam. She had wanted to say something in one of her e-mails—when Andy kept calling her Sam, she knew she should have said something, but she was afraid he would end correspondence as soon as he realized she was a transgender. There were still lots of people—especially in the conservative city of Calgary, Alberta—who weren’t down with the whole transgender movement.
She remembered Andy’s family. They were regular churchgoers. Sam always avoided Andy’s house on Sundays, because Andy’s parents would always drag Sam along to church with them. Even a sleepover wasn’t a good enough excuse to get out of mass.
Andy would be the first person from her old life that she would come out to. After she moved away from Calgary, she slowly started her transition. She came out properly when she turned eighteen, which was a surprise to all of her friends. Some of them were supportive, some stopped talking to her. Her own family condemned her decision to become a woman, and told her she wasn’t welcome home until she reversed what she’d already done—her parents didn’t know that she’d been taking hormone pills for years (she had to get them illegally, using all of the money she made at her crappy shoe store job).
But now that she was almost fully transitioned, she’d decided that she didn’t want to simply leave the first decade of her life behind, as if it had never happened. She didn’t want to avoid the city of her birth, just because she was slightly less likely to be accepted than if she stayed in Toronto, or if she moved to Vancouver. Plus, she’d been offered a job at a tech company downtown Calgary, and if she decided to take the job, then it was only inevitable that she would eventually run into people from her past life. So it seemed like a good idea to get the shock out of the way, so she didn’t have to go to sleep every night with a heavy weight on her shoulders.
But it was harder than she expected. As soon as Andy’s gaze fell upon her, she wanted to run. Even with his moustache and his shaggy hair, he still looked like little Andy from elementary school, and Sarah couldn’t help but think that meant she would still look like little Sam to Andy. And she was right—though it took Andy a moment. And now that he’d made the connection, he was speechless. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted, but he wasn’t saying anything and he wasn’t moving. “Andy?” Sarah said gently, worried she was about to be thrown out.
She would be fine if he threw her out—though a bit disappointed. She had enough money in her bank account for a few months in a hotel—though bumming on a friend’s couch would have been ideal. She knew there would be a chance that Andy wouldn’t be down for letting a tranny sleep on his couch.
“I, uh—I just—um,” Andy said. His jaw appeared to be trembling slightly. Now Sarah just felt guilty, as if she was putting Andy on the spot. That wasn’t her intention. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. She would have been fine if Andy wanted to call her Sam and treat her like an old male buddy—if that’s what he wanted, as long as he was comfortable.
“I’m sorry if this is a shock,” Sarah said.
“No—It’s not shock. I mean, it is a surprise, but—I just didn’t realize… Why didn’t you say anything?” Andy asked.
“I didn’t want to freak you out. I thought it would be less jarring if I just showed up… Though now that I’m thinking about it, maybe that wasn’t the best judgement call.”
Andy’s lips curled into an uncomfortable-looking smile. “I’m just glad to see you,” he said, but Sarah knew that he wasn’t telling the truth.
“I’m glad to see you. Should we hug?” she asked, taking a step forward. Andy opened his arms and they hugged, though his body felt stiff and cold. She couldn’t blame him—it was the same reaction she got from her mother, who tried to be supportive, but ultimately failed.
“You look good,” Andy said. But he was clearly trying his best not to look down at Sarah’s body.
“Thanks. I like your moustache,” Sarah said. She reached out and felt it, but regretted doing so as soon as Andy’s body became tense and clenched.
“Thanks,” Andy said with another stiff smile. “So I guess I’ll show you to your room.” He turned around slowly and started walking towards the stairs. Sarah grabbed her suitcase and followed Andy towards the guest room. She was impressed—it was made up nicely, and it smelled like fresh paint—a lot of work to put into a guest room for an old friend. “I hope this is okay,” he said. “I know it’s kind of small.”
“It’s perfect,” Sarah said, falling onto the bed. It had been a long trip. She’d driven from Toronto, and she’d done it in just two days: about sixteen hours each day on the road, without much stopping. It felt nice to finally be grounded, knowing that she wouldn’t have to move again for at least a few weeks—unless she had to move to her backup plan hotel.
“Well you’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” Andy said. He was already back in the doorway, ready to run back into the house—probably to hide and regret letting Sarah come to visit.
“Thanks, Andy,” she said with a smile. She did a good job of hiding her guilt. She was already trying to figure out how much money she could give Andy for his troubles. At least if she gave him some money, it would be less awkward—as if she was renting the room, instead of just bumming it. It was more than she expected and she was clearly more than Andy had expected.
CHAPTER III
When Grant finally emerged from the basement, he expected to see a group of old friends chatting in the living room—laughing and drinking and catching up. Instead, he found a desolate space. The house was silent and everyone had gone to bed, even though it wasn’t very late.
Had Sam shown up yet? And Sarah—was she given the guest room? Someone was in there now—was Sam in there with Sarah? Were they a couple? Had they arrived in separate vehicles? Grant knew he wasn’t going to know any of the answers until the morning. He thought about knocking on Andy’s bedroom door for an update, but Andy’s bedroom light was off, as if he was sleeping (even though he usually didn’t go to sleep until very late).
So Grant watched some television in the living room for a couple of hours, just in case Sam ended up showing up—someone had to greet the guy, after all. But there were no visitors. Now it was midnight and Grant had to work in the morning. So he shut everything down and went to sleep, feeling somewhat frustrated that he didn’t understand what was going on.
For the past week, Andy had been raving about Sam—talking about all the different things he wanted to do while Sam was in town. He’d never mentioned Sarah.
When Grant woke up the next morning, the house was still silent. Andy’s car was still parked out front and so was Sarah’s—but there were no other cars that Grant didn’t recognize. So maybe Sam didn’t show up. Maybe he cancelled his trip and Sarah took his place. Grant wasn’t about to complain. Sarah was gorgeous. Sarah had a killer body and legs to die for. And if she was going to be there for a few weeks—that was more than enough time for Grant to make a move.
He smiled on his way down to his home’s basement office as he thought about her: her big eyes and her pink-glossed lips. She really was beautiful. How had Andy kept a friend like Sarah hidden for so long? Maybe he kept her hidden on purpose, so that Grant wouldn’t try to ask her out. Maybe Andy wanted her for himself. And was that why she was visiting now? Had Andy made a move, or was he planning on making a move?
It was around 9:00 AM when Grant heard someone walking around upstairs. He assumed it was Andy, and he really wanted to talk to Andy about Sarah—but he knew there was a small chance it was Sarah, and he didn’t want to seem desperate by suddenly showing up the moment she woke up. So he remained down in his basement office, though now he wasn’t getting much work done. Instead, he was staring at his screen and thinking about Sarah. He felt somewhat like a teenaged boy, eager to impress a classmate, but terrified of actually talking to her, face-to-face. He found himself daydreaming about her: sitting next to her on the couch with his arm over her shoulders. He couldn’t help but think about her in his bed, naked—her warm body pressed up against his. He was already imagining his hands against her perky tits, and his cock pressing into her tight pussy.
He navigated away from his work and found himself on Facebook. He searched for Sarah, but found tens of thousands of people named Sarah, just in his province. And he wasn’t even sure if Sarah was from his province. He tried searching Andy’s friends, but she wasn’t there. And then he even tried logging into Andy’s Facebook account, to see if her page was just hidden from people who weren’t her friends (Andy used the same password for everything: his last name with a 1 at the end). But Sarah’s page still wasn’t there.
And once again, Grant found himself daydreaming about holding Sarah’s naked body. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He reached down for the fly of his jeans when he noticed a figure standing in his office doorway. He sprung up and nearly screamed like a little girl. It was Sarah.
She smiled. “Am I interrupting?” she said.
Grant felt his face turning red. “No—not at all. I was just, uh, resting my eyes. I’ve been working for a few hours already,” he said. He cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt. He took a quick look down to make sure his erection wasn’t too noticeable under his jeans. “How did you sleep?” he said.
“Great. That bed in there is super comfortable,” she said. “So this is where you work?”
“Yeah, this is it,” Grant said, looking around at the plain walls in the windowless cube.
“Do you just work on your laptop?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you work outside on your laptop? It’s a beautiful day.”
Grant smiled. “I would, but I work best with as few distractions as possible. Blank walls and no windows is perfect for me. If I can focus for five straight hours, then that’s all I need in a day. If I go outside, every car that goes by will steal my attention. I think I have ADHD, but I’ve never been tested.”
“Whatever works, I suppose,” she said, still with that cute smile on her face. She remained in the doorway, looking at Grant. Grant suddenly felt tense, as if he was forgetting something. He wanted to say something—maybe a compliment—but he was still in a half state of shock from nearly being caught. Had Sarah walked into his office one minute later, she would have caught him with his cock in his hand—and that would have been truly devastating. And she probably would have guessed that she was the one on his mind. But thankfully, she caught him a moment before—it probably just looked like he was stretching, or maybe reaching into his pocket at most. “So, uh, what are you getting up to today?” Grant asked.
“I was thinking of checking out downtown. I haven’t been in years,” she said.
“Where are you from?” Grant asked.
“Well I’m from here originally, but I’ve been in Toronto for almost twenty years,” she said.
Grant nodded, his head still murky from Sarah’s sudden appearance in his doorway.
“Anyway—I’ll stop bugging you. I should probably start my day. I still need my morning coffee,” she said, turning away. Grant continued to nod, still slowly processing everything she was saying. His mind was still stuck on the last thing she’d said, about living in Toronto for nearly twenty years. Was that not the same story with Sam? Did Sam not live in Calgary until the end of the sixth grade before moving to Toronto? So were Sam and Sarah related, or was that just a big coincidence? Before Grant could think to ask, Sarah was already gone. He could hear her upstairs by the front door, probably putting her shoes on, getting ready to leave.
So Grant went back to work, though he was far less efficient than usual. He had to struggle to keep his mind on his daily duties, and there were a few moments where he found himself back on Facebook, searching through pages of
people names Sarah from Toronto. It was 4:00 PM when Grant finally threw in the towel for the day. It was much later than he usually worked, and the quality of the work he was getting done was low. So he went upstairs and he got dinner started.
The house was still silent. Sarah was out exploring downtown—but where was Andy? He was usually watching television or playing video games in the living room. Grant walked up to Andy’s bedroom door and gently pressed his ear to the door. He could hear Andy inside, playing video games with the volume turned low. Grant carefully opened the door and poked his head inside. Andy looked over quickly and jumped at the sight of Grant, even though it wasn’t unusual for Grant to poke his head in like that.
“You scared me,” Andy said.
“I saw that. What’s going on? Where’s your friend Sam?” Grant asked.
Andy seemed to squirm in an uncomfortable way. “He never showed up,” he said after a strange moment of silence.
“Who’s this Sarah chick? Someone from your past?” Grant asked.
Andy’s face was strangely pale, as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep. “Yeah—just an old classmate,” he said.
“You never mentioned her.”
“Didn’t I?” Andy said after a bit of hesitation.
“Never.”
“Oh, well, she’s going to be staying her for a while, instead of Sam. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all,” Grant said. His heart skipped a beat before he asked his next question. “So, is she, like, single?”
GIRLIFIED: 15 BOOKS MEGA BUNDLE Page 46