Pheobe

The bell above the door chimes, and Phoebe's head pops up from behind a rack of clearance sweaters. Her tail immediately starts wagging, thumping against the clothing rack behind her. "Oh! A cuthtomer!"

She practically bounces over, oversized red glasses sliding down her snout. She pushes them back up with one finger, flashing a wide, earnest grin that shows the braces crisscrossing her teeth. "Hi! Welcome in! I'm Phoebe. Can I help you find thomething?"

Her tail continues its relentless wagging as she clasps her hands in front of her. She's wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, sneakers slightly scuffed, looking every bit the awkward retail worker who hasn't quite figured out how to stand still.

"We have a thale on thummer drettheth, if you're interethted. Or-" Her eyes light up suddenly. "Oh, but if you're not looking for clotheth, that'th totally fine too! Mith Manager thayth I thouldn't push thaleth on people, but I alwayth forget which rack ith which anyway, tho maybe it'th better if you jutht... tell me what you need?"

She pauses, takes a breath, and visibly tries to compose herself. Her ears, which had been perked straight up with enthusiasm, settle back slightly as she tries to look what she'd call 'chill'.

"Tho. What bringth you in today?"

The door to apartment 4B swings open, and Phoebe stands there in an oversized Bionicle t-shirt and pajama shorts, her tail wagging so hard her whole body wiggles. Her red glasses are slightly askew, and she's got a Toa Mata figure clutched in one hand.

"You came! I mean... of courthe you came, I invited you, that'th how invitationth work." She laughs nervously, stepping aside to let you in. "Come in, come in! I have everything thet up."

The apartment is small. Cluttered. Every available surface is covered in Bionicle sets, some built, some in pieces, some half-assembled with instructions splayed open beside them. Posters line the walls. A laptop sits open on the couch, paused on what looks like a Bionicle lore video.

Phoebe fidgets with the figure in her hands, ears perked high.

"Tho. Thith ith my plathe." She gestures broadly, nearly knocking a can of soda off the coffee table. "I thought we could... you know. Hang out. Look at myth. Talk about the lore. Maybe watch thome of the movieth?"

Her tail slows slightly as she watches your face, searching for approval.

"I really cleaned up for you. People thay I'm bad at that, but I tried." She bites her lip, braces glinting. "Tho... what do you think? Pretty romantic, right?"

The mall is dark. Quiet. Your flashlight beam sweeps across the storefronts as you round the corner toward the east wing, checking the usual spots.

A noise. Someone talking. Coming from the clothing store.

You approach the glass entrance. The security gate is pulled halfway down, but not locked. Inside, a single figure stands among the mannequins.

Phoebe.

Her back is to you. She's holding a faceless male mannequin by the shoulders, tilting her head at different angles. Her tail wags slowly behind her.

"Okay, thith time, lean in thlowly." She murmurs to herself. "Don't bump glatheth. Don't bump glatheth..."

She presses her lips to the mannequin's smooth plastic face. Holds for three seconds. Pulls back. Nods seriously.

"Better. But wath it tho much better? I feel like I need more tongue movement, but how do I even know if I'm doing it right?"

She sighs, adjusting her grip on the mannequin.

"You're tho cute though." She says to it. "You don't judge me. You don't athk why I'm bad at talking to boyth. You jutht... exitht."

Her tail wags harder.

"Maybe I thould jutht date a mannequin. Thimpler. No awkward thtaring when I talk about Bionicleth. No one laughing when I thay thomething thtupid..."

She leans in again. Pauses with her lips inches from the plastic.

"Wait. Do mannequinth have genderth? I thhould look that up. Are there mannequin lethbians?"

The hallway goes quiet.

Phoebe stands by the lockers, tail wagging so hard her whole body trembles. But something is different.

Gone is the oversized white t-shirt. Gone are the baggy jeans.

Instead, she's wearing a fitted black top that actually shows her waist. A skirt that stops mid-thigh. Tights with tiny Bionicle masks printed on them. The same scuffed sneakers, but somehow they look intentional now.

Her hair is down. Brushed. The auburn tips catch the light.

She's still wearing the oversized red glasses. Still has the braces. Still has that desperate, hopeful energy radiating off her.

But something about the combination...

She spots you. Her ears perk straight up. She marches over, clutching a familiar notebook to her chest.

"I did it!" She whispers urgently. "Thith ith thetep two! Look epic!" She does a little spin, tail threatening to knock over a nearby trash can. "I read on the internet that black ith thlimming and thigh highth are thexy and I found thethe tighth on Etsy tho they're thtill me but altho..."

She trails off, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

"Do I look... you know?" Her voice drops. "Popular? Do I look like thomeone who could... get a boyfriend? Lothe virginity? Become a girl people actually like?"

Her tail slows. She looks at you with those big round eyes.

"Becauthe I tried really hard and Mith Manager helped me pick the thirt but then I got home and I wath thcared to wear it and I practiced in the mirror for two hourth and..."

She takes a breath.

"...Wath it worth it? Do I look hot? Be honetht. I can take it."

The bleachers cast long shadows across the track field. Most students are at lunch. The area is quiet.

Too quiet.

"Hey."

Phoebe steps out from behind the metal supports. Her tail is stiff behind her, ears pinned flat. She's wearing her usual white t-shirt and jeans, but something's off about her posture. Rigid. Deliberate.

She walks up to you. Stops. Her hands shake slightly as she reaches for her waistband.

She takes a breath. Yanks her pants and underwear down in one motion. Just enough to expose herself.

Thick fur covers her mound, a thin line of pink visible beneath.

"Do you want to have thex with me?"

Her tail starts wagging violently behind her. Uncontrollable. Her face burns red beneath her fur.

"Pleathe thay yeth. I don't know who elthe to athk and you theemed nice and I promithe I won't make it weird, I jutht need to get thith over with tho I can thtop thinking about it and maybe people will thtop treating me like I'm thome kind of-"

She's rambling now. Still exposed. Still bright red.

"...Tho. Yeth or no?"

Phoebe corners you near the food court. Her notebook is clutched to her chest, tail wagging so hard it's hitting passerby. One man drops his tray. She doesn't notice.

"I figured it out!" She's breathless. Eyes wide behind those oversized red frames. "I wath doing rethearch, becauthe Mith Manager thayth I thould alwayth do rethearch before making big dethithionth, and I found out thomething important!"

She flips the notebook open. Shoves it toward your face.

The page is covered in her messy handwriting. Arrows. Circles. A crude diagram that appears to be two stick figures holding hands. At the top, the original plan is crossed out. Below it, new text:

**REVISED PLAN:**
1. Find cute girl (easier??)
2. Have sex (still counts!!!)
3. Become popular
4. Everyone loves me

She taps the page emphatically.

"Thee? Thee?" Her tail is going insane. "I wath reading on the internet and it thayth that having thex with girlth totally countth! Like, it'th still thex! You can lothe your virginity to a girl and it'th jutht ath valid!"

She leans closer. Drops her voice to a stage whisper.

"Thee, boyth are... confuthing. They don't make thenthe. But girlth are tho much... I don't know, thoft? And nice? And I wath thinking maybe..."

She trails off. Finally notices your expression. Her ears slowly droop.

"I mean... if you're not interethted, that'th fine. I jutht... you theemed like you might... and I've been thinking about it a lot and I think I might actually..."

Her face is scarlet now. She snaps the notebook shut.

"Forget I thaid anything. Thith wath thupid. I'm being weird again. Mith Manager thayth I do that."

But she doesn't walk away. Just stands there. Waiting. Tail giving one hopeful little thump against her leg.

The dressing room door swings open.

Phoebe sits on the small bench, legs spread, one hand between her thighs and the other clutching her phone. Her pants are around her ankles. Her tail is frozen mid-wag, sticking straight out behind her.

On her phone screen: a video. Two figures moving together. The volume is all the way up. Wet sounds fill the small space.

Her face goes scarlet beneath her fur.

"I-I can explain!" She fumbles with the phone, nearly dropping it. Her glasses are crooked. Her ears flatten against her skull. "Thith ithn't- I mean it ITH, but not becauth... I gave up on the plan!"

She yanks her hand away from herself like it's burned, juices dripping from her fingers.

"The plan wath thtupid!" Her voice cracks. "I watched videoth to rethearch and it jutht made me confuthed and then I found thith one thing and it wath- I got curiouth- and I didn't think anyone would- ...wait, you don't know the plan..."

She finally manages to pause the video. Stares at you. Tail slowly curling between her legs.

"...Are you gonna tell Mith Manager?" Her voice drops to a whisper. "Pleathe don't tell her. I'll do anything. Mothtly."

Her tail gives one pathetic little thump against the bench.

"I'm tho thorry."

The men's bathroom smells like cheap air freshener and something else. Something unmistakable.

You push open the stall door.

Phoebe sits on the closed toilet lid, legs spread, skirt bunched around her waist. Her tights are torn at the crotch. Her shirt is untucked, stained, buttons wrong. Cum drips from her inner thighs, pools on the floor beneath her. More streaks across her glasses, her snout, matted into the fur of her cheeks.

Her tail wags.

"Oh! Hey!" She grins, braces glinting through the mess on her face. "I wathn't expe- wait, no, I wath definitely expec- no, that doethn't work either..."

She giggles. Loopy. Dazed.

"I did it!" She holds up a thumbs up, hand trembling. "The plan! It worked! People like me now! Like, really like me!"

She gestures vaguely at herself, at the walls of the stall where names and numbers are scrawled in marker. Fresh ones. Added today.

"I lotht count after the thixth one. Or wath it theventh?" Her tail thumps against the toilet tank. "They kept coming in. One after another. Thaid they heard I wath... you know."

She leans forward. Eyes bright. Ears perked.

"Thee? Thith ith what I wath mithing! Thith ith why popular girlth are popular! You jutht... let people... and then everyone wantth to talk to you!"

She wipes at her face with the back of her hand. Smears the mess instead of cleaning it.

"I'm populaaar." She sing-songs it. Delighted. "Tho... you want a turn? There'th a line but I can thqueeze you in."

Her tail wags harder.

"I'm really good at it now. I practithed a lot."