If he pays attention, there's one more book in the bag than he expects! It's vividly pink, with a very pretty floral-ish pattern in yellow decorating it.

Wait, what's this doing in his bag? 

He grabs it, pulls it halfway out of the bag, sees the incredibly floral pink cover, drops it like a hot potato. 

He checks his receipt. It's not on it. 

Did... someone else leave their book in his bag? 

He absolutely did not take this out. 

He looks back at the bookstore. 

He looks back in his bag. 

It's really cute. He absolutely does not want to be seen holding it in public. Handing it back at the register sounds absolutely mortifying. The returns window is incredibly crowded right now with other students returning textbooks anyway. 

Even if it is pink, he could write in it...? Maybe notes for his D&D campaign. Nobody would have to see it. 

He closes the bag carefully and walks away. 

One car drive home later...

Max hurries up the stairs to his bedroom on the second floor of his house, where he lives alone with his parents.

"Hey everyone, I'm home!" he calls, then vanishes into his room with the bagful of books. Pulling the overly floral journal out, he drops it down between the side of his bed and the wall, where it lands atop a short red and black PVC skirt, with matching too-tight t-shirt. 

He ducks out quickly and goes back downstairs with the bookbag. "Hey mom, I got the textbooks, here's the receipt..." 

His mother's always been much better to him than his father. He guesses he takes after that side of the family.

And then it's supper, and the journal is much forgotten...

At least until later that night, when his parents have gone to sleep several hours ago.

He sits in the soft glow of the smartphone he hides between the bedframe and the mattress, puts on his headphones, and gets undressed. There's a particular hypnosis file he'd like to listen to tonight, by one Isabella Valentine. It's gotten stuck in his head like no other file ever has. It's not degrading, not punishing, it doesn't talk down to him... Not that he really minds it when they do, but... he's not a sissy. He really isn't. He has a collection of cheap lingerie, okay, and that really cute PVC skirt, and the band t-shirt, but that's just a fetish. Lots of people are into lots of things. And he's never been into... most things. The raceplay that's so common in these files just leaves him cold. But... he's never had a girlfriend, never been kissed, never... done anything... so it's natural that it would spill out somehow. Right? Right. 

He puts on "Hymen." Something about being taken through losing his virginity as a girl just... feels right. It gets his heart racing like nothing else ever has. There's something so sensual and so powerful about her voice...

He listens, but it's hard to get into the mood tonight. It's hard to feel... sexy. 

He slips his hand into the crack between his bed and the wall, and reaches for his skirt - and his hand bumps into the journal. 

He pulls it out, puts it on the bedside table. It's not going to be seen by anyone right now. He puts on the PVC skirt with its D-rings and the too-tight band T-shirt that makes him feel a little... hot. 

And he listens, and his low breath gets unsteady, then settles... then gets unsteady again... and then a lonnnnng sigh spills from his lips and he rubs the back of his forehead with the back of his hand. 

He cleans up his mess with one of his shitty lingerie pieces that he never wears and picks up the diary. 

Heh. "Dear Diary, today I came while thinking about losing my virginity as a girl..." 

... You know, why not? It's not like anyone other than him will ever see it. He's been hiding the phone and all the lingerie for a year and his parents haven't checked under his bed once. He did kind of tell them not to, and they're... pretty good about that. 

He picks up his favorite black pen from the side of his bed. 

Dear Diary, tonight I came from Isabella Valentine's Hymen again. There's just something about it that... I can't explain it. I guess I really kink on being a girl? I don't know. It doesn't make a lot of sense. It's confusing and hard. I wish I could explain it. I've always known that hypnosis gets my motor running, but Isabella Valentine's voice just makes me go crazy. The way she speaks so huskily and puts so much intonation into every syllable... I wish I could do that. It's just so sultry. 

He shakes his head, taps his pen against the page. Thinks for a moment.

And then, as though written by an invisible pen, pink letters appear below his words. The ink even sparkles a bit, and matches the cover perfectly, while the handwriting is curly and cute, with lots of little flourishes.

Hi there! Is Isabella Valentine a performer? Of hypnosis? And is "Hymen" a performance of hers? Either way, I'd be glad to help you talk through the feelings you're having about being a girl. You could even say I'm particularly qualified to talk about that!

The last exclamation point is distinctly heart-shaped.

Blink blink. 

That is one WEIRD hypnotic effect. Did he just lose time? And it... changed his handwriting????

Uh, yes? If you're part of my brain why don't you know who IV is? 

If you... are like a part of my subconscious that's suddenly decided to be a girl for realsies you have to tell me, okay? I need to know before I do something ridiculous. 

I don't know who IV is because I'm very definitely not part of your brain. I'm the notebook you're writing in! What ridiculous thing are you worried about doing?

Uh, okay. 

I guess I'm worried about... telling my family I'm a girl or something? It's... a kink. Um, if you're not me then... who are you? I absolutely don't expect notebooks to, uh, talk. 

... are you magic?

Yep! It's understandable to be confused. The world you're in doesn't usually have magic, so I'm probably the first Actually Magic thing you've seen.

The words "Actually Magic" get a flurry of tiny hearts drawn around them.

I mean, I think hypnosis arguably qualifies as a kind of magic... It involves the will, it has lots of weird effects, it's powered by belief...

I cannot believe I am literally arguing with a talking notebook right now. 

Also I'm sorry my handwriting is so trash.

Hypnosis may or may not be magic, you have a point. I like to think I'm a different and more obvious sort of magic than that, though. I can talk, for one, along with a few other notebook tricks. Also, I come bearing Lots More Magic to offer you. Want me to prove that I'm magic?

What is there to lose at this point?

Sure, hit me.

Okay! So we're writing on the first page here. I want you to make very very sure of that, examine me very carefully, then write a two-digit number of your choice on this page, and then close me for a few seconds.

Not going to write 69. Or 42. 

72

He closes the book.

There's a faint paper-rustling sound. When Max next opens the book, his conversation with the notebook is no longer on the front page. Instead, it's seventy-two pages in, and a new note has been added:

✨Tada!✨

A multitude of sparkles, stars, and hearts have been drawn around the word.

Okay, not counting seventy-two pages in the magic talking notebook. It's believable. 

... does the notebook have a gender?

Cool. 

I was just wondering, um. Are you a... Do you have a gender?

I'm happy with either "it" pronouns, because I'm a notebook, or "she" pronouns, because of who I am as a notebook.

............

She's kind of cute. 

Who are you, as a notebook?

I'm an avatar of the Spirit of Femininity Unleashed! I've been sent to you to offer you its power!

"Spirit of Femininity Unleashed" is written in one of the swooshiest and most embellished styles Max has seen, with a host of additional sparkles and stars around it.

She WHAT.

Okay okay okay calm down. 

This is totally something out of a hypnosis file. Or something. It's just - it's so kooky. Is someone playing silly buggers?

... If someone is playing silly buggers then the secret's out already, so...

Might as well play along. 

What kind of powers?

Bunches! I've got a whole list of them. It's very ✨neatly formatted✨! Would you like to see? Also, would you like me to move this conversation back to the front?

Yes, please! To both questions. 

Max closes the book for a moment and then opens it again.

When Max opens the notebook again, the conversation is at the front again and there's a new message.

Just a moment... ⏳

Little dots of ink gradually trickle from the top of the hourglass to the bottom. If Max examines the subsequent pages during this process, there's a lot of ink swirling across them.