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Looks Matter It was another lazy afternoon in Greensbury. The air was filled with the sights and sounds of a summer coming to an end. The smell of last barbecues and burning leaves hung in the crisp air. And it was silent. Other than the distant hum of city and a few shouts of children playing somewhere, everyone had retreated to their houses and backyards. On this very typical street in this maze of identical white houses and immaculately kept lawns a black sedan made its way to the heart of the suburbia. The man driving the car sighed. "You liked growing up in this place?" The young girl next to him kept a pointed silence and kept staring out of the window. "Personally, I hate places like this," the man continued, "they, and the people that live here, just want to fit you to a mold. And the people that live here...the worst serial killers always come from places like this." The girl said nothing. "You know, you are lucky to be released so quickly after waking. If your dad hadn't raised hell when those spooks wanted to cart your immersion tank to god know where, you'd probably be in a "private hospital" somewhere by now. Seeing as you are the first patient in the US with the gender-syndrome, many people would have liked to get their hands on you." The girl shook perceptibly at that. "I'm sorry for that choice of words. I heard of the...incident. But you must face the fact that things like that can happen to you now...and take precautions." "How the hell am I supposed to take precautions against being groped in my sleep?" the girl blurted out with anger. "I meant the whole deal of being a woman. Dressing, acting, not acting, proper manners, the whole shebang. Uh, the whole thing. And I'm sure things like that won't happen again, you're back home now after all." Her mood seemed to brighten a bit at that, but fell just as quickly. "I just wish...I wish Dad hadn't made such a huge deal out of it. Now everyone knows." "That's a good thing you know. They've had time to come to term with it. What, you would have preferred to start life from scratch? I'm sure everyone'll be just as accepting, no matter what you look like." "I'm not sure I can even accept myself. That was our house, by the way." She wanted to get out of the street as soon as possible, so she took as large steps to the doorway as she could. She wasn't sure if she could even face her parents and brother right now, chatting up the neighbours was out of the question. The rolling gait her newly widened pelvis required still came out about as graceful as a newborn calf trying to walk. And those damned breasts threw off her centre of gravity even further. Seeing her frustration,the doctor offered her a hand :"Relax, it'll come to you. Just take it slow." "I don't need you help." She tilted herself this way and that and took a few tentative steps. "It's just different." She proudly marched to the door and, steeling herself, rung the doorbell. Amanda wasn't expecting anyone. Not yet, at least. George wasn't supposed to arrive before dinner and Mike was in school, with practice afterwards. And James...he wouldn't be here until tomorrow. But as she heard the car pulling up and the doorbell shortly after, she knew, and tried to prepare herself as best as she could. She carefully folded the magazine she had been reading, placed it neatly on the shelf and walked to the door. "Hi, Mom." As she heard her voice and looked at the girl standing in the doorway, she knew that her hopes that this would all be just some temporary thing, something they could work around and forget, were for naught. The girl was James, in some nearly imperceptible ways only a mother would recognize, but there was little remaining. She still had the dark black hair of the family, and the eyes and mouth were George's, but the rest... "Uh, mom, it's me. James." The girl seemed nervous, desperate for Amanda's recognition. "Of course I know it's you James. You think I wouldn't recognize my son, honey, no matter what happens? It's just that you just look so..." Pretty. The girl was beautiful. Soft facial features James had as a man had smoothed out even further, she had a cute button nose and large green eyes with dark, thick lashes. She looked fresh and scrumptious, no blemishes, no wrinkles on her yet. Even her body seemed completely without any wear or tear, curvy and feminine. She was obscenely topheavy for such a young girl, or for that matter, any girl. The formless button- up blouse she was wearing( James's blouse? )was tented out a large amount by two enormous mounds. "Definitely not from my side of the family" went through Amanda's head as she cast a quick glance at the rest of her son's...daughter's body. If the face called to mind "cute", then the body seemed to call another adjective to mind. "Slutty" She couldn't help it. Flat as a board and with as many curves as a ruler, Amanda couldn't help but notice her slim waist and wide round hips, even through the unflattering blouse and boyish jeans. "My son's turned into a teenage sexpot now...what have I done to deserve this?" she thought with some bitterness. There would be no concealing the changes. Not that this plan hadn't already failed with George telling the press and the nosy neighbours around everywhere. The girl had probably already been noticed. "You look so...different," she finished lamely. "But do come in now, honey... and you too, doctor Woodman. Thank you so much for helping us during all this!" They sat down by the kitchen table, and Woodman started presenting multiple release forms, pill bottles, documents and other such nonsense. During the conversation, James didn't really care to listen to what his Mom and doctor Woodman were discussing. He was happy to be home, sure, but Mom...he felt she was on edge around him. And likewise, he added. And no welcome hug? Then again, as he saw his new form in the mirror 2 days ago, he had also frozen in place, unable to believe what he was seeing, hoping it would just be some cruel trick. He can't expect her to just take this hit without swaying just a little. Moms always come around in the end. "So name what should we call you now, honey?" The conversation had turned to him. "Uh, they asked me in the hospital already. I told them, Jamie." "That's what I would have picked too." Mom smiled. "Her papers are still in the works, she'll be legally Jamie and legally female too in a month or so." Added Woodman. After Mom and doctor wrapped up their short talk, he said a hearfelt goodbye to Jamie and got up to leave. Jamie would need regular checkups, just to make sure she was developing normally, but this seemed like formality. Gender-syndrome wasn't fatal, it was just exceedingly rare. Mom went to see him out the door. Jamie felt like she should have been a bit more involved in what they were saying and deciding on his behalf. She just couldn't be bothered to deal with it right now, the shock of being an alien in such a familiar environment made her timid and nervous. Mom came back and sat down. "Jamie, dear, this must be so hard for you. How are you feeling?" "I'm fine, Mom." Jamie just didn't have words for expressing her emotions right now. "I still can't believe it even happened and I can't really picture me living the rest of my life like this. You know, a girl in Russia turned into a man and reverted after 30 days! Maybe I'll turn back too." "Jamie, I can accept you as a daughter too. Just...give me time." They sat for a while, talking about Jamie's experience and what had happened in his 6- month absence( not a lot, really ) until the clock struck 5. "Oh! I completely forgot! George will be here in a while! I really need to start on dinner! Go, settle in, and change your clothes. Those old things smell like hospital. Your room's just like you left it. So clean it up!" Mom said in a mock-serious tone. Going upstairs with her tiny luggage, Jamie took the first on the left, the smallest of 3 bedrooms. Mom and Dad were in their master bedroom down the hall, Mike had the second largest due to despicable gerontocracy rampant in this household, and Jamie was relegated to the smallest, near the stairwell. "Gotta get a lock on this thing. Mike's always barging here without asking." She thought as she turned the knob. The room was really just the way he had left it. Mom had made the bed and rightened the chair Jamie had knocked over when the pains hit 6 months ago, but otherwise, it was pristine. Clean even, she must have been dusting the place regularly. Throwing herself down face-up on her old bed, she felt her breasts sway and bounce heavily before coming to a jiggling stop on her chest. They felt heavy and fleshy as they sat there, obstructing everything below her neck. As a boy, James had always liked large tits on women, but this was ridiculous. Catherine, the "Boobs" of the school was known to wear an E- cup, but Jamie's breasts dwarfed hers. "So now I'm going to be the one who everyone stares at. Maybe I'll even get my bra straps pulled." She thought bitterly. Oh right! The bra! And clothes! What is she supposed to wear anyway, not much of hers is going to fit her anymore? She slipped into the corridor and shouted down the stairwell"Mom! Do you have a bra I could borrow?" She heard a dismissive snort. "Not with your measurements I don't! You'll have to get your own! Just wear a tight teeshirt under something for today." That she could do. Every tshirt was a tight one for her now, though. She strained to get one of the stretchier white ones on, but was disappointed when a simple bouncing on her toes sent her assets wobbling. Compressed by the shirt,at least they din't go flying everywhere. Similar troubles were awaiting her with pants. She cursed herself for preferring skinny jeans, the only spacious straight-leg ones were the ones she was wearing. In the end, she found a pair of shorts stretchy enough to wear. They were riding into her butt a bit, but they would have to do. Now, for the next thing... Suddenly, she heard the front door being opened. Dad was home. The longer she would wait, the harder it would become to step out that door. Dreading the encounter that was about to take place, Jamie opened the door and turned to the stairwell. George was a heavyset man in his forties, a hard worker and a tough huy to get along with. He had played football in his youth, but had never quite managed to make that blossom into a career. He had spent years playing rather underwhelming game in local teams since highschool, hoping to be scouted, but his big break always seemed to be around the next corner. A careless fling with a girl he had met in a bar put an end to his dreams. Burdened by a steady relationship with Amanda, with Dave on the way soon, George resigned his dreams and settled down. He himself always claimed that Amanda was the only reason he didn't go pro, and he probably believed that thought himself, after so many repetitions. He was employed in a chemical factory nearby, a place that gave livelihood to most families around here. George didn't mind the work, after all, most of his buddies were there too. In fact, he preferred to spend most of his time at work or hanging out with his old pals - things weren't so smooth at home recently. He was feeling trapped in his boring middle-class life, as so many middle-aged men do - he hadn't achieved his dreams, his wife was getting a bit long in the tooth, kids weren't turning out all that well either. Sure, Mike was doing okay, but he wasn't showing any signs of being the prodigy George secretly hoped him to be. And James...that kid was a bit of a milquetoast on a best day, but now with that girl-disease of his...George wasn't planning on letting his kid turn to a flaming faggot.He had looked through the immersion tank's clear faceplate week after week, just to see James's sleeping, placid face through the murk. A face that seemed indeed somehow softer and fairer every week. It was a good thing he had really blown a lid when those spooks were trying to cart off James's tank. And right after he had taken the family to their weekly visit in hospital! He was still pretty good at intimidating people, and with a few well-placed calls to media, the government had to back down from abducting his son. Amanda had made a pretty convincing case too, and together they had managed to coerce the hospital into sending James home pretty much as soon as he awoke. And from the call that came yesterday at night, it seemed that James had finally woken up... Stepping in, George saw an unfamiliar pair of sneakers near the door. With some effort, he remembered James having a pair like these. So, the kid really was home. He felt triumphant inside. "Now, let's see how bad the damage is. I'll try to buff the boy up again, I can start the kid on weight training right away, and Matt promised to get me those pills..." The stairwell creaked, and George's runaway train of thoughts crashed spectacularly. He had to assume the creature shly peeking at him from the top of the stairs was his son, but...what the hell? Yeah, the face kinda looked like the one he had seen in the tank, but there wasn't a trace of man left in the body. Where he had expected to see a garish transsexual or an overdone crossdresser, he saw only feminine curves. Her face didn't look a day older than 16, which created an immense contrast with her overdeveloped body. She slowly and carefully descended the stairs, her absolutely massive breasts bouncing and jiggling mezmerisingly with every motion she took. She had stuffed herself into a small tight shirt, which clung to her every curve and left little to imagination. He remembered what kind of girls looked and dressed like that from his school days - skanks. Skanky girls with big tits and tiny waists like this, wearing skintight booty shorts on their ripe asses, hips wiggling so provocatively... He knew he was leering, but he just couldn't believe this was actually James. This was his son now, and he would always look like that now, no training would restore any masculinity to James. George was disgusted to see someone's masculinity so utterly stripped away, that the only thing that remained was this caricature of femininity, but on some base level this display affected the male in him. Thoughts welled up in him that he didn't dare to acknowledge, he hated himself for having them, but they refused to leave. "H-hi Dad. It's me, James." James felt blood rushing to his face. Dad's face was slack, his eyes roaming all over James's body with ferocious intensity. He was supposed to wear something sensible, but he had totally forgotten. He cursed himelf for not looking into a mirror before he came out here. He had a hunch that this one displayed more of his new body than he would have liked. He fidgeted under oppressive observation, noticing Dad size up the curves of his nearly exposed breasts, the flare of his hips under tight shorts and finally his face again. "Welcome home, son." George's expression was inscrutable, only the strain in his cracking voice gave away his shocked state. "Oh my god, James, what are you wearing?" There was a shrill, annoyed note in Amanda's voice. She had silently appeared from kitchen, and was staring at James with outright disdain. "I told you to put on something sensible! This is...it's just too much." She seemed to be trying to calm herself. "Please, honey, go get yourself a blouse from my dresser, there should be some maternity blouses on the bottom shelf. Go on, now!" Taken aback by such outburst, mortified James fled back to the upper floor, determined to never come out of his room again. Back in the safety of his room, he sat back down on his bed and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. This could have gone better. But yeah, he was at fault here. It was clear that his family felt the same awkwardness like himself when dealing with his changes. He himself couldn't really accept what had happened to him, so it's understandable mom and dad weren't really all that accepting either. He cupped his sizable breasts tentatively and slid his hands down his sides, feeling the inward curve of his waist, flaring out at the hips again. It's probably best not to show off the severity of his changes like that, but what's the point of hiding in baggy sweaters in his own home? While he hadn't liked the tone and looks of Mom and Dad, they need to get used to James looking like this eventually. He wasn't really planning on being covered up and hidden away like some secret shame of this family. Having recovered some of his determination, he quietly opened the door a bit and listened. By the sounds of it, Mom and Dad were setting the table, they didn't really seem all that perturbed by the sounds of their voices. He quietly slipped out and entered his parents's bedroom. It was spotless and warm in its pastel tones, like always. He tread carefully, as if fearing to break the sanctity of this place. It was obvious Mom was the de facto owner of this room. Dad's stuff was relegated to a smallish corner of the room - a rack with slacks, another with coats and various other apparel. Mom's stuff however - was all over the place. Two huge dressers stood near the large mirror, which was flanked by an spiky array of various bottles and tubes, with brushes and combs dotted here and there. He pulled open the leftmost dresser and studied its contents. Dresses, neatly hung up, a few shoes on the bottom, and a few boxes. Opening the topmost one, he found it full of shirts. The other one held shoes, almost filling the box. The bottom one was the jackpot, he supposed. It was full of loose, formless gowns, yoga pants, and a few bras. He shuffled through the pile, inspecting the clothes. The gowns and mumus were numerous, frilly and silky. Eventually he settled on a thin black V-neck sweater. It wasn't really all that girly and looked big enough to fit him. Out of curiosity, he pulled out a large nursing bra and held it out in front of him. Maybe it would fit? Trying to press his breasts into the cups, he abandoned that hope. While the straps seemed okay, the cups were obviously too small and shallow, half of his breasts would bulge out from top even if he somehow got that thing affixed to him. Sighing, he threw it back into the box and put the sweater on. It wasn't really form- fitting as he had expected, the fabric tented out from his chest and draped down, making him look rather heavy. The house was pretty warm and as he was accustomed to wearing only shorts and shirts in the house, the layered clothing felt stifling and hot. Still, he decided to tough it out for now. Looking into the mirror, he found that he now resembled a black haystack with two bare legs emerging from it. Cursing his new body and everything about it that made his life so uncomfortable, he made his way downstairs. Mom and Dad cast a quick glance at him when he entered and sat down at the table, and Mom muttered something about looking much more sensible. And then they were back to their usual discussions about Dad's daily job and what ridiculous things the neighbours had done yet again. James being there did seem to throw a bit of a wrench into their conversation though. Soon the talk petered out, and they were left in an uncomfortable silence. Dad coughed and cast a glance at James. This time, at least, his eyes didn't wander. "So, son...how are you holding up? Or, uh, should we call you a girl now?" He seemed thoroughly uncomfortable. "Well, I am a girl now, but I'm still your son too. You can call me Jamie, or James if you want to. We don't really need to act like everything's changed." He cursed inwardly, of course things had changed, why had he even said that? "And I'm doing about as fine as can be expected, I'm not in pain or anything, it's just that everything is so confusing." "I'm sure of it, but try to think of the bright side - you're alive and that's what matters. And, uh, who knows, things always happen for a reason, so just try to make the best of it." Said Dad. "I can't really think of any reasons why this happened to me, but thanks, Dad." said James, unsure how to respond. Dad seemed to want something off his chest, though. " You know, maybe this is Nature's or who knows, God's way of setting things straight. I can't really believe these things happen without someone being even just a bit predisposed to it, you know." What do you mean by that? I wanted to become a girl?" said James incredulously. "Maybe not consciously, but there must have been something that triggered it? Matthew from the plant said that this disease makes you look like your unconsciously imagined self. His nephew is a doctor, he knows these kind of things. And I think there's a ring of truth to it, everyone always looks so much different from what they started as." James just sat silently, unsure how to process this nonsense. "And maybe it's our fault too, I should have paid more attention to you, try to grow a real man out of you...move you away from these desires." "It's a punishment for our sins, to all of us" said Amanda quietly, "And we must learn from it." James sat, mouth agape. Had his family gone mad? Him wanting to become this, god punishing him for not being a "real man"? What the hell? His fierce rebuttal was interrupted by Mike, arriving from his football training. He barged in from the front door like a tornado of blustering good mood, throwing off his shoes, dropping his backpack and dufflebag with a loud bang and striding into the kitchen. Feeling the sour mood and seeing James sitting with a blush of anger on his furious face, he paused to take account of the situation. "Hey little bro, looking good! What's with the face?" he said, barely pausing to look at James, sitting down at the table and drumming his fingers impatiently. "...Hey, Mike. That's just my usual face when seeing you." Mike laughed. "So it really is you!" Studying James more carefully, he declared "You make a nice girl, you know. At least you're not as ugly as before!" "Wish I could say the same about you." James retorted. Thank god for Mike, he was an oaf, but a sincere oaf. All this worrying and hints about divine punishments were in such stark contrast to Mike, who seemed to take the fact that his brother was now a girl in such stride, as if it were an everyday occurence. "How come you're so stacked now, though? You had such a tiny pecker, I always thought these things sorta reverse, you know?" Mike said through his plateful of food. Classy, Mike. "Why were you looking at my pecker in the first place? And Dad here says that this must've been what I wanted inside all along." James shot a scathing look at Dad, who was following the conversation with interest. "I wouldn't be surprised, if I had to be a girl, I'd be a sexy one too." "What the hell is with you all, I never wanted to be a girl!" James almost shouted. "Okay okay, let's not raise our voices here. And Mike, you really need to be more polite!" Mom stepped in. The rest of the dinner continued on in the same manner, with lively debate on what had happened to James. They all had their own weird views for what caused this and James didn't feel like he was getting through at all. In the end, he didn't even care anymore, what does it matter if they all think he must've brought this down on himself? It's not like this changes anything. "So, is there anything you need to know about being a girl, Jamie? I have lots of experience, you know." Mom asked. "Uh, I don't think so, it's all so new to me. I do think I need some new clothes though." James said. "That's for sure, honey. Our little boy has grown up into a big girl!" she said with a wink. "It's Saturday tomorrow, George, can you take us shopping?" That night, James fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The day's stress had taken all the energy this young girl could muster. The next day, the three of them took George's SUV to the city. Mom could drive, but James suspected she just wanted George to pay for most of the items. They were both rather stingy with their money, especially Mom, as she had no real income. James must've looked real good with his sweater, combined with a pair of Dad's old jeans. They pulled up at the mall and forged a warplan - measurements and a bra first, then, while James and Amanda would get the rest of the lingerie and some shoes, George would get James some tshirts, maybe a few skirts and pants if he saw anything. "I can't shop for things like that, I don't have an eye for this kind of stuff!" George protested. "What stuff?" asked Amanda. "You kinow, girl clothes!" "But you buy me such nice lingerie and clothes, just get him...her something." Amanda insisted. Eventually, George relented. Walking past several boutiques, Amanda cast a critical look at James's assets, shook her head and marched past. "We'll need to get your bra at a specialty shop, i'm afraid. Bet you didn't expect big breasts to be so troublesome, huh?" "Mom, I wasn't expecting anything, I didn't want breasts at all!" said James exasperatedly. "Well, in any case, now you've got them and you better get used to them. Let's try this one." Walking into the store, James was bedazzled. He felt as an intruder, a fake trying to con his way into this bastion of femininity. His male self would have never walked into a store like this, and he didn't feel like he belonged even now. "Don't stay behind, come along now." Picking a few larger numbers seemingly at random, Amanda unceremoniously pushed him into a changing booth and handed the bras to James. "I trust you can work this out. Put them on under your breasts and then lift them up." She seemed determined not to take part of this more than necessary. "Give me a yell if something's wrong, I'll look for more in the meantime." James was left in the booth with two curious items and not a lot of help. The cups didn't really seem all that large. 34DD and 34 E, he read. With trepidation, he took off his sweater and hung it up. Looking into the wall-sized mirror, he saw the same sight he had seen yesterday. A young scared-looking girl, thin and curvy, with only a small white tshirt straining to keep her large assets at bay. Steeling himself, he strained to pull the tight shirt over his mounds and felt them settle heavily onto his narrow chest. They barely sagged, the tissue comprising them only a few weeks old. He twisted his torso back-and forth a bit, and felt the heavy mass pulling his torso along with their swaying. He caught a glimpse of the mirror, seeing those impossibly round and perky globes jiggling were both erotic and shameful. The man in him was getting turned on by the girl in the mirror, and then reeling back in horror, once it realized it was himself. All sorts of unpleasant further thoughts were stirring from that realization, thoughts he'd rather not deal with right now. Right. The bra then. He took the contraption, worked out how to put his arms through the straps and pulled it under his breasts. It took a minute for him to work the clasps blindly, causing him to thrust his chest out in the mirror. The bra seemed woefully small. The band seemed right, but there was no way he was fitting into those cups. Sighing, he took the larger one and painstakingly repeated the procedure just in case. Still small. "Uh, Mom?" he awkwardly called out. "What is it?" she answered from outside. Had she just been standing there the whole time? "The cups are too small!" James complained. "Well, hand them back then, I'll go look some more." She sounded annoyed. "Excuse me, can I help you?" Another female voice from outside. "We're picking out a bra for my ...daughter." "Well, do you know her size?" "Not really..." "Well, let's just get a measurement, then." The voice said cheerfully. "Can I come in, miss?" "No!! I mean, yes.." James said, panicking. "Hello, I'm Rachel. Uh, this definitely isn't you size, by the way." The woman had an professional attitude, she quickly stripped James of the puny garment and quickly worked him over with her tape. "A blessing and a curse, honey, isn't it. How come you don't know your size yet? The fairy visited suddenly, huh? And so young, too...You're really high up the line in what we carry but we can definitely find something for you. I'll be right back." She left suddenly, leaving behind a very flustered James. "You cannot be serious!" he heard Amanda protesting. "Yup. 34 HH-24-36. What a world we live in, huh?" Rachel returned with a handful of LARGE bras. "Right, let's see..." She resumed her whirlwind around James, lifting here, pushing there, talking all the while. He heard Amanda talking to George on the phone,"Yes, HH. And 34-36. Yeah. Oh,just get the largest you can get!" Those bras were frightfully big, but so were his breasts, he supposed. A few of the bras really did fit him perfectly. It was strange to see those large mounds framed and pushed together by the black and red frilly bra, pushing his chest out even further. "I look like a stripper or a pornstar." flitted through his head. Shaking his head, he pushed the thought out, surely he can make them inconspicuous somehow. "Hey, don't slouch! You don't need to hide what God has given you!" "Do you have something...flattening?" James blurted. "Sure, this model." Rachel held out another bra. It did push his breasts down rather effectively. And it was also twice the price. "Mom, do I get the cheaper one or the expensive one? It flattens." After a moment of hesitation, she said, "The cheaper one, we still have a lot of stuff to buy." This one pushed his breasts up and out in a rather lewd way, but it was so comfortable, James still decided for it. He would be wearing clothes on top anyway. The matching panties were also frilly and silky, peering at them, he figured he'd just wear boxers instead. They finally finished, and impatient Amanda reluctantly paid the bill. In the end, they left with 3 outfits - a black and red silky set, a nondescript white bra, slightly tight, but cheap, and a underwire sports bra. James stripped down and changed back into ol' sweater and tshirt for now. He'd get used to the items at his own pace. Shoes were a bit easier and less embarassing at least. He steered way clear of everything with too much heel, and got a pair of "cute" platforms on sale and a pair of purple Converses for now. James also wanted something for swimming, and sighing, Mom bought him a simple white underwired one-piece that looked sizable and stretchy enough. She seemed a bit tired and pissed off, so James didn't ask to try it out. Without James even noticing, several hours had passed, and they were just about ready to head back to the car. "Let's just hope George found you something" Mom hoped. She phoned him and they all soon met at small cafe in the mall. Despite Mom's and James's fears, George was carrying several large bags, full of various clothes. He also wasn't alone. A wiry tall guy with a mustache was with him, they seemed to know each other well. "Everyone, this is Matthew, from the plant. This, is Amanda, my wife, and this is..." "Jamie, I presume. So nice to meet you! Your daddy was just telling me about how you suddenly decided to start batting for the other team, in a sense" he smirked. "You know, girlie, we went through a lot of trouble to find just the right stuff for you, wear it with pride." "Uh, thanks, I guess?" This guy was seriously creepy. "I just bumped into Matthew a few hours in, he was looking for new boots. So we teamed up, and he helped me pick out a lot of stuff. Seriously hard to find anything in your size, but I'm sure you'll find something." Dad seemed a bit unsure. "It's decent stuff, right?" asked Amanda with suspicion. "Hey, you try getting decent stuff for those HH sweaterpuppies, right? But yeah, we did the best we could." said Matthew and winked at James. James shivered. "Thanks Dad, let's just go now, ok?" he said. "Sure, I'll help carry your stuff" Matthew said happily. During the walk, he sidled up right next to James and openly stared at James's body. "You sure chose one hell of a look for yourself." he said and whistled. "Built for one purpose and one purpose only." He chuckled. "I didn't choose anything, you understand? Why does everyone think I wanted this!?" Again with the same bullshit he'd been feeding Dad! Thankfully, the car was in sight, so this creep didn't have time to piss him off even more. The men loaded up the trunk and said farewells, Mom and James just got into the car. The ride back was uneventful, expect for the Dad to just keep blathering about what a standup guy this Matthew is, and how hard it was to shop for a girl. He seemed embarassed, and James had a sick feeling in his gut.