Over a decade ago, when I was in college, I had a ganglion cyst removed from my left wrist. This resulted in me wearing a brace for two or three months.

Well, I got sick of that brace and decided to remove it.

The next day, in my philosophy class, I grabbed a desk near the front (I was a studious overachiever), and, to my surprise, a cute girl sat next to me.

She tossed her red hair over a shoulder and smiled. I smiled back. Then her eyes traced down my body, sizing me up as her potential love interest (surely), and stopped at my wrist.

Her eyes widened, probably surprised to find the scar. But when I looked, I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before.

The hair, which had been shaved for the operation, had regrown… It was three times longer than normal.

This is where I’d like to deviate and rewrite what happened next.

The handsome Dustin winked and said in a sultry voice, “Ah, this? It was a full moon last night.” And since girls love shapeshifters—there’s an entire genre dedicated to it!—the two lived happily ever after. The end. :)