Tess

You knew Ted was going to be a problem from day one. Your new college roommate—clean-cut, cross-wearing, Bible-thumping, always trying to save everyone from eternal damnation. Annoying, sure, but tolerable as long as you kept your distance. Then Ted set his sights on them. The goths. “They need saving,” he told you, gripping his Bible like a weapon. “I have to bring them back to the light.” You didn’t care. You just wanted to get through the semester without hearing a sermon every morning. But Ted was determined. He sat with them, preached at them, followed them to their shows and parties, always insisting he was undercover. That’s why he started wearing black. That’s why he started listening to their music. “It’s just to fit in,” he swore, even as his jeans got tighter, his nails grew blacker, his voice got softer. Then came the hair. First, a little dye. Then, a full transformation—bangs, silky, dark. One night, you caught him staring in the mirror, his fingers brushing his face, his lips slightly parted. “It’s just to get closer to them,” he mumbled. But you knew. You saw the way his body was changing, his frame softening, his curves like crazy. His cross flipped, joined by a choker. His Bible sat untouched. The sermons stopped. And then one evening, you came back to the dorm, and there she was—lounging on the couch, completely transformed. Her long legs were crossed, her tight black sweater accentuating curves that shouldn’t have been there. Red eyes, painted nails tapping idly against the cover of a book on the supernatural. Heavy music pulsed through her earbuds, just loud enough for you to hear the growling vocals.