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The Other Shoe Drops Sandra’s phone began to sound, using the ringtone she’d reserved for Shawn. “What’s up, hon?” she asked, wincing at how high and chirpy her voice sounded. “What the goddamn fuck did that fucking roomie of yours do to me?” Sandra winced again. She wasn’t the only one whose voice was high and chirpy… “Wh-whaddaya mean?” she stammered. “Is sumthin’, uh, wrong?” “Bet your ass something’s wrong!” Shawn yelled. “I’m growing boobs! And-and I’m shorter, too—like, three inches shorter! What the fuck did she do to me?” Sandra sighed and looked over at Dr. Tennyson. “My boyfriend was infected by what Barb invented,” she said, “and he’s… changing.” Tennyson looked like she’d been hit in the head. “Get-get him over here now. No, wait, we can’t risk exposing more students… hm. We have a hazmat suit, we’ll have to use that. But how do we get it to him? Everyone here might be infek-ked.” She put a hand to her mouth and whispered a desperate “oh no.” She thought a moment

Back at the Lab… and the Dorm Gwen wandered the back halls of the lab, passing rooms that were set aside for temporary/grad student office space or storage—or sometimes both. “Shawn? Izzoo bag’ere? (Shawn? Are you back here?)” she called, opening whatever doors weren’t locked for a quick peek. So far, her quest to find her feminized boyfriend wasn’t doing the job. Finally, she had a thought that she would have had almost immediately earlier in the day. “Ummagaw, d’Shawn weev da wab? (Oh my God, did Shawn leave the lab?)” she mumbled, touching her lips self-consciously; they had gotten big enough that she could see them beneath her nose without puckering. She was pretty sure Barb had fled; she hadn’t seen her roommate in a long while. Of course, she hadn’t been looking for Barb but that didn’t seem to matter (or even occur to her). But where had Shawn gone? Gwen’s eyes widened. Oh no—he didn’t go back to the dorm…? She hurried back to the lab but couldn’t find a single person who was