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Pucker Up By Jena Corso Edited by Angela Meyers Chapter 3 There he was suddenly being positioned in line just like every other girl in a big dress, all made up. It was all he could do not to piss his panties as he crossed his legs under the ball skirt, hearing nothing but the dizzying sounds of women cackling as they spouted orders to their daughters as they hurried from behind the curtain and rushed towards their seats. It was like the calm before the storm for just a minute as the room grew quiet as he noticed girls patting at their dresses, staring at their nails and twisting their hair nervously. "You're so quiet. So calm," said a girl looking back at him. "No, trust me I'm shitting bricks," said Paul in his softest voice. "You? Seriously?" The girl shook her head. "I wouldn't be if I looked like you. I'm Brandi." "Oh hi. Paul.. a. Paula Anne," Paul said awkwardly. "I mean just call me Paula, and thanks. But no way. You look awesu... I mean you look really pretty." "Thanks Paula, and I love that color on you," said Brandi, looking over as the music began playing. "I guess we're all nervous even if you don't show it, so good luck." "You too," replied Paul, hearing the applause as the contest was beginning. "Ok ladies! Listen up," said Gianna, snapping her fingers. "Remember the five big Xs on the floor are your stations. Make sure you stop at each one and the moment they announce your name, do your stuff out there girls!" As the first girl strolled through the curtain, Paul had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He had never gotten pre-game jitters in hockey, yet this feeling of angst was more overwhelming than he could have imagined. He kept telling himself that not a single girl had noticed anything different, and that in reality all he had to do was make sure not to fall, smile and just follow the others. As the line dwindled, so did his courage, growing shakier as his turn grew closer. When Brandi was called by Gianna that she was next, it was like the waters grew calm as he watched the girl before her and noticed how easily she strolled around the stage. Once Brandi was out there, there was nothing that could break his focus, as he took notice of her every step and noted every little wiggle. "Ok honey. You're next," said Gianna, touching his elbow to push him closer. "Smile! You look beautiful and you're gonna do great." "Ladies and gentlemen," said the announcer. "From Columbus, Ohio, let's hear it for Miss Paula Anne Carbonelli." As she patted his back for a brief second, the moment had arrived and yet it was like time stood still. Before his leg even flinched, he thought briefly about all the things his family had done for him, and then this just felt like a dream as this really wasn't who he was anyway. As the flashbacks of his family's sacrifices for him faded in his vision, his sister's support and pleading resonated in his mind, only serving as further motivation, psyching him up as now his stage name echoed in his mind. He had trained his mind to never let the moment get the better of him in difficult situations like shootouts or during pressure packed shots, and now he had to twist that mindset to get into character. Every instruction on mannerisms raced through his brain as he immersed himself unconditionally, taking that first step through the curtain as Paula. When the "oooooohhs" and "aaaaaahhs" filling his ears were followed by instantaneous applause, the next few steps into the spotlight were a cinch for him. His focus on following the path that Brandi had just taken was apparent as he made his way towards the first station, picking up the X on the floor and then twisting his hips as he smiled warmly. On his next move towards the front of the stage, his concentration was pinpoint with each step of his heels as he strutted with some attitude. His mind was controlling his muscle, like he was stick handling from forehand to backhand yet instead it transmitted a girlish wiggle through his hips as he glided towards the audience on the far left before pausing. He had memorized exactly where to stop at the X's, twisting to show off his dress and then turned heading across the front of the stage. He made sure to smile and make eye contact with the judges as he sashayed slowly past them, and then stopped posing to be judged. He felt no pressure at all now, turning left and then right with the most graceful movements he could muster, and then turned waving and blowing a kiss to the audience before again beginning his walk. At the right edge of the stage, he took notice of his sister with her jaw almost dropped to the floor, and then winked at his mother, who had tears in her eyes. When he turned towards the back, it was like weight had left his shoulders as he knew he had passed the test, and the rest didn't matter. The last elegant wave and big kisses felt exhilarating as he exhaled, feeling unexpectedly emotional pausing on the last X. It took only but a brief moment to compose himself before he made his way to the line, standing next to Brandi side by side with the other girls, just like he belonged. It was hard not to glance over and see his mother looking so choked up as he nonchalantly lifted his hand, slightly nodding, as he gave her the thumbs up and mouthed, "It's fine and I'm ok," without speaking a word. He'd parade with everyone daintily around the stage as a group once every girl had been announced, and then one by one they had a turn standing front and center once again. He was almost used to being the center of attention, so a few poses with his hands on his hips, smiling out at the audience, gave him that same little rush, like his teammates mobbing him after a goal. He loved feeling worshiped, except that his skates had been replaced with heels, or the cool ice with bright hot lights, as he blew a few last kisses. Regardless of being the leading scorer, or an adored diva, it felt exactly the same as the one thing that he was at home with, being a star. "You did amazing, Paula," squealed Marcy, hugging him the moment he got off stage. "Girls practice years and aren't this good," yelled Danielle, as they all took turns hugging him. "So impressive, Paula." "Really?" replied Paul, extremely relaxed as the first time on stage was easier than he thought. "I thought it was pretty easy." "Well, there's much more to do as you progress, honey," said Marcy as they hurried down the hall into his dressing room. "Hurry, let's get you out of this dress, change up your hair and do a few other things." "Still? Most girls shake like a leaf," said Ginger, impressed. "But you were cool and so collected" "And she's not even a girl," said Roberto. "Well, maybe that's the secret here, ladies," said Lillian, walking in with a smirk. "Now that's thinking out of the box, Lillian," giggled Roberto. "Maybe we should think of it like we've just increased our pool to pick from next year." "How many skinny, long haired boys with great balance do you think are out there to choose from Roberto?" Teased Marc,y shaking her head as they all shared a good laugh. "Ok, ok everyone.... Darlings, that was one act of many to come. Let's get focused again please," said Lillian, getting bossy clapping her hands and rolling her eyes as she flipped one of his curls. "Our beautiful little princess boy did well, but I'm certainly not worried about next year. The future is now, so prepare her for her next look and let's not take the slightest thing for granted. We all know the competition's just beginning, and going to get harder with each change. I expect no one to let their guard down, understood?" The simple joy of passing was suddenly out the door as Lillian meant business and managed her staff that way as well. "It looks like none of you did?" said his mother, as she entered with his sister. "I can't believe it. If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it at all." "Why not, she looks just like you?" said Lillian. "And you told me you used to compete?" "Holy shit, Lillian. I did, and I was crowned a few times, but this is crazy!" sighed Kristen. "How's that, Kristen?" said Lillian with a huge smile, walking over and putting her arm around Kristen and Bridget. "Maybe the only thing crazy is what wonderful genes Miss Paula inherited from her mother. That and the kid is a natural in front of a crowd. That you can't coach." "Well I guess he's always had that winning thing, but knew it would translate," said Kristen, throwing up her hands. "Is it translating? I don't even know what to think? "All you need to think is that my little sister did better than expected," said Bridget with a grin. "Crazy or not mom, I think she did." "But look at him!" said Kristen, growing upset. "He's just a boy in a dress." "But all we did was hair and makeup," Lillian pointed to her chest. "The rest is inside. The desire to win. That's innate. That's inside." "Yeah, inside my dress," said Bridget, rolling her eyes as she touched the dress and then picked at the ends of his hair, circling him. "And look how pretty his hair came out mom. You wouldn't let me dye my hair until this year, and look at how good his looks already. I might have one last year if I had done a few more things to stand out." Not only now was he wearing a dress meant for his sister, but he now had the treated hair she had begged her mother to get a few years back. "Please Bridget," said Kristen, trying to keep it together. "Let's not go backwards please. Don't you think we have enough to deal with right now!" "I didn't ask for any of this, Bridget," Paul said annoyed, picking up the ends of a curl with his fingers. "All this was done for you, and I still barely know what the hell happened as it happened so fast." Just feeling the sticky heavily sprayed curls was incredibly weird, but even more so doing it with square, soft pink based white French tipped nails. With his mother and sister around, he had let his guard down for a minute, dropping out of character as it made him think of his ridiculous situation, until Bridget took his hand, softly rubbing his fingers to calm him right down. "You're right," said Bridget, hugging him. "I love and support you no matter what. Don't worry, because I'll help you through every second of this that I can. Sisters support each other." "Stop, girls," said Kristen, getting emotional again hugging both Paul and Bridget. "You two are going to ruin my makeup again, and I just fixed it. I love both of you so much. I'm so proud of you both." "Ok, well I hate to break up the love fest, but we need to dress Paula, please," said Lillian. "Yes, sorry," said Kristen, wiping her eyes struggling to keep it together as she stared at her son swaying in his big dress. "Thanks," smiled Lillian, pointing to some chairs for them to sit down. "Sit and relax ladies." Paul stood there facing his mother and sister as quickly Roberto unzipped his dress and held his arm, helping him step out of it. He stood momentarily as Ginger took off his jewelry and Danielle pulled the rosette from his hair, self-consciously standing there in only his panties. "Wow," sighed his mother, seeing his shoes. "I thought he was in flats under there. I'm even more flabbergasted now." "Really, mom?" said Bridget, as they slipped on his robe. "You know grandma set up that dress for three inch heels. No way could he wear flats in any of the dresses." "Oh my Gawd," yelped his mother, raising her brows. "I almost forgot. That was even more amazing then, and it explains a lot of why his walk had such a perfect little wiggle." "Mom please," said Paul, looking over as he sat down in the big salon chair. "You know I can hear you right? And remember I'm on thin skate blades all day right?" "Ladies?" said Lillian, looking over at them getting annoyed. "Please, or I'll have to ask you to leave." "Sorry," smiled Kristen, waving her hand in a zipping motion across her mouth. "We'll shut up. Please proceed like we don't exist." It was actually much more uncomfortable seeing his sister and mother watching them touch up his face and work on his hair, as he noticed how intently they watched every little thing. He turned his face slightly, as it was easier staring at a plastic container filled with dark and light bobbi pins as he watched Danielle remove a good dozen or so and place them between her teeth. Every once and awhile having her step in his line of sight with a mouth full of pins really was a welcome distraction, as it was much nicer staring at her busty chest than it was seeing his mother gawk over at him. "Close please, Paula," said Marcy, as she dipped her little applicator in to her shadow palette. Just being in the dark for a while didn't hurt either, as the soft brushes felt nice re-crafting some of his eye shadow, yet brushing through some of the hairspray bonds delivered quite the opposite experience. When he opened his eyes, it was hard not to wince, feeling the extreme stretching of some sections of his hair in front and then he felt more pins again go back in. It was like his head was their pi?ata being batted back and forth as he experienced his first teasing and then sharp scratching at his scalp. Between the constant twisting and pinning, it seemed never ending as they tag teamed his hair. The curl iron going in and out wasn't even too bad, and he watched Marcy fill her hands with huge globs of gel before experiencing it glob against his scalp. From behind his forehead and then from the neck line up, she slobbered it on like an oil slick and then combed through it with some force like she was raking through sand. All this was another new uncomfortable sensation, as he wasn't used to all the pulling and twisting, but finally they took a hairdryer, setting the gel. It took two more rounds of soft setting and hairspray as he could feel the hardening and heard the crinkling. When he glanced over seeing the bin that was once filled with so many pins just about empty, it seemed they were satisfied and finally it was over as Marcy redid his lips. It was hard not to see his mother again get glassy eyed as Marcy tapped him to stand, and then he knew the drill, taking a few steps towards Ginger as off came his robe. Taking Ginger's hand for balance and stepping in to the huge sea of crinoline were already engrained as he looked over at his sister and mother watching him being zipped into her dress. "Damn, grandma did some amazing work on that," said Bridget, coming over and inspecting. "If you weren't my sister in my dress I'd be spewing venom on you just seeing anyone else in my dress." "That one's not exactly yours, Bridget," said Kristen, getting up as Paul stood as they fastened a huge necklace over his chest. "What do you mean, mom?" Bridget asked, slightly agitated as a thick sparkly diamond bracelet was fastened over his wrist. "I mean it's a dress grandma made a long time ago," replied Kristen as a tear slid down her cheek. "It's incredible?" Bridget was amazed. "But she couldn't have made it too long ago. It seems to fit him perfectly now, and if it were too old, then it wouldn't have never been sized right. Even the pip-squeak sis has had a little growth spurt this year." "No I didn't mean like a year or two ago. I really meant a long time ago, Bridget and the dress is unmistakable, honey. She certainly modernized and updated it, but It's truly a one of a kind," said Kristen, wiping her tear. "You see your grandmother sewed that for me when I was a Junior Teen Miss, and I got crowned in that dress." "You mean I'm not wearing one of my sisters dresses, but now I'm wearing one you wore in a beauty pageant when you were a little girl," said Paul, stunned while huge earrings were attached to his lower studs. "I'm afraid so," smiled his mother. "I knew grandma said she had a surprise for Bridget, but I didn't realize this was it." "Is that allowed?" asked Bridget perplexed. "Yes, actually," Lillian was amused by their shock. "They just need to be custom and one of a kind. Reusing part of an old custom dress and modernizing is perfectly fine, and in our business actually good luck." "And hopefully even better luck since your mother was crowned in it. Be still one last minute, sweetie," said Marcy as he felt the weight atop his head as she worked pinning. "Well, that may not be the big crown someone will be getting when they win, but that dress was definitely made to be accessorized with a tiara," said Lillian, reading her ipad and then spinning it for all to see. "The results are in and you're in eighth right now, but I think you're going to score high and move up in that dress." "Are you kidding?" screamed Kristen. "Eighth! That's not bad for her first time." "Really?" said Paul, not knowing if that was good or bad and counting all the contestants in his head. "Eight?" "Easy sis! There are 36 girls out there," Bridget stated, rubbing his shoulders. "It's only one round of judging separated by tenths of points. The girl's not used to losing anything. There's plenty of pageant and judging to go." "That's not what I meant," Paul defended his comment but Lillian loved his competitive spirit. "Oh its fine darling and time to get out there," said Lillian, beaming as she enjoyed seeing him get slightly pissed. "Hug mommy and your sister and we need to let them take their seats." "You look so beautiful sis, and you're a winner just for doing this for me," said his sister, giving a quick hug. "Yes and i love you," said his mother emotionally, touching her old dress as she exited. They hurried now to take their seats as Paul turned, staring himself down. Minor changes to his makeup seemed major to him though, as Marcy added a distinct glow to his cheeks with a hint of bronzer, and darker dimension to his lids, with a blend of burgundy into charcoal. His lips now popped off his face in a bright cherry color, and the ultra-shine gloss twinkled in every direction. Thick caramel curls now sat in distinct unwavering coils, having been pinned in three high teased layers behind a small yet intricate rhinestone tiara. It was an elaborate multi-tonal, unique coiffed style like you'd see only in prom or bridal magazines, as the front of his hair appeared so much darker, delivering a stark contrast as it was tightly pulled back in a part, less gelled style. At each side selected honey colored loose twisted strands swung as the only tresses that graced his shoulders, as the sophisticated updo and bright lip transformed him from an attractive, teen into a regal pageant princess. Massive chandelier earrings and a large tear drop crystal pendant around his neck only added to his royal appearance, but what would certainly be most unforgettable to the judges was his extravagant dress. He already donned an amazing gown that looked fabulous on him, but this time his grandmother had taken it to the next level. He was in corvette red now, in a dress that skirt's may have been double the last one as he took a step or two, amazed by its Cinderella style and size. Underneath, he could feel the layers of underwire almost springing as he walked, and the under layers swishing against his thighs. The strapless bodice of the dress was a distinct sweetheart shape, and absolutely gleaming in every direction with the ruby beading and crystal bejewels surrounding the bust and sash-less mid-section area. He looked down, almost blinded by all the elaborate bling, realizing this time his flat chest looked more padded, and that the dress fully exposed his shoulder blades and half his back. Beneath all that, the huge floor length skirt was covered from top to bottom in what must have been hundreds of silk red rose buds, as he almost felt just as ready to be on parade in Pasadena on New Year's day. Adding to it's delicacy, a sheer top layer of glittered crinoline protected the rose buds and contained some sporadic accent rhinestones. At the back, the crinoline dragged just a little like a small faux train and the entire look was finished off by matching satin red elbow length gloves. Like it or not, he was ready again to be back on stage, except now he knew what to expect, but realizing that in what they had put him in that he'd better be careful not to break his neck. "It's time, my pretty princess. Mind your posture and walk tall, young lady," said Lillian, noticing him move gingerly as her phone's timer beeped and she turned, looking into his eyes. "We'll be working harder tomorrow, and unless you fall on your face, I'm confident you'll move up before then. Now let's go, do mommies dress proud, Miss eighth place Paula." Immediately Lillian knew that pushing that button would drive Paul to compete as she could see a hint of inner rage, followed by determination in his eyes. When they called his name this time, his smile was bigger and his mannerisms were more delicate. Every strut and every girlie wiggle just seemed natural in his dress, as he barely needed to glance at the Xs on the floor, as his mind had already choreographed every feminine movement. He was focused on being flirty with the audience, yet composed and classy with the judges. He gushed with confidence from start to finish, and his stage presence was undeniable. He seemed to blow kisses just a touch longer and bat his pretty lashes at just the right time. Every wink and gleam from his lips exuded confidence, and he seemed to light up the stage. He felt brash and bold in red, and somehow it felt like his mother's dress was really meant to be his. When they handed him a bouquet of roses as he stopped for his last pose center stage in the pageant procession, it somehow felt like he received an MVP award for the season, as the flash bulbs popped non-stop. He couldn't stop smiling and waving softly with his right hand, as he cradled the roses against his body with his left until just the little prick of a thorn scratched right through the delicate bodice beneath his rib cage. The tiniest startle jerked him forward for just a millisecond and magnified the little strain at his scalp from the tiara and heavy earrings, as he tilted his head down. It was probably nothing that the judges could see with his back to them, or even enough of a flinch that the audience could pick up, but the tiniest gravitational pull at his most tender spots perfectly destroyed his intense concentration. This tiniest scare only served to remind him of his crazy situation, like a check into the boards, as it shook out the cobwebs, momentarily sending him back to the reality of his situation. Had he made a fool of himself or drawn unwanted attention his way he wondered as he fretted what the hell he was doing as he returned to the pageant line. He needed a minute to calm his nerves as he fanned the hot flashes from his face, and felt his first tear as they got ready to exit the stage. Quickly he switched hands holding his roses to wipe a tear as the girls were stopping in line with their bouquets next to him as they finished the day. It took him a moment to regain his composure as they walked from the stage, as he had barely kept it together. "You ok?" whispered Brandi. "You did amazing?" "I just don't want to let my family down," whispered Paul, letting out a deep sigh. "You think they saw that?" "Saw what?" said Brandi. "I've been watching, and all I've seen is you kicking ass." "I pricked myself and I thought my tiara was going to fall off," whispered Paul. "Relax, I've pricked myself for years, and believe me these little tiaras go nowhere," said Brandi with a little smirk. "I'm sure it'll take them a half hour just to get all the pins out." "You're right!" said Paul, trying to slightly wiggle his head and realizing it was going nowhere. "Thank you for being a good friend." "Yeah, you say that now. It's the first round," said Brandi, giving him a wink as they turned to walk out. "But by Sunday, you'll be pulling my hair out to get that sash." "You've got the wrong girl on that," giggled Paul. "Not from the strut I've seen," replied Brandi. "See you after dinner at the party my new BFF." Off the stage they went, as his team couldn't stop hugging him as the session ended. Quickly he was whisked back to the dressing room, where his mother and sister hurried in, practically mugging him as all three converged in hugs. "Ho - llyy shit, Miss Paula," yelled Bridget. "You are in it to win it! I'll fucking kill you if you come in higher than me." "Mom said you're already in second place," said Paul with a laugh as they helped him out of his dress. "So obviously not, but thanks for the vote of confidence. I actually thought I blew it." "How?" said Bridget as he held her shoulder, stepping out of it. "I got pricked by the roses, and something came over me," said Paul as they slipped on his robe. "You didn't see that?" "Oh, that happens to everyone," said Bridget, with a grin as he sat down. "But no?" "Me either," said his mother as they began taking down his hair. "But I did see some emotion near the end. I think I saw tears of relief, or maybe tears of joy." "I don't know any more, mom?" Paul said, feeling relief as the tiara and heavy earrings came off," You know I never cry, but i felt a little overwhelmed I guess. I can't explain it." "And you don't need to," Paul was cringing as they stared taking pins from his head. "Ouucchh. Easy please," moaned Paul, being tugged at. "Maybe its all this tugging at me." "Sorry! And I'm sure we're tugging physically and emotionally," said Marcy, breaking the hairspray bonds with her fingers. "But you have to be patent, as I counted 108 pins that I used in your hair to hold that pretty updo, and I'll be a few minutes to get them out. Plus you've got a ton of product in here." "Well, either way you don't need to worry about it until tomorrow," said Lillian proudly as Marcy continued working through his hair. "You did wonderfully, and I'll lend you something cute for dinner. I had Ginger grab a few things, and I'm sure at least one will work." "How about just room service, mom?" Paul asked, mentally exhausted now as Danielle wiped off his bright lipstick. "Not an option sis," said Bridget as they took a wipe to his cheeks. "You may remember every family has an assigned table, and then tonight's the pajama party that's part of the event. It's a fun and a relaxed atmosphere, but it is mandatory for everyone." "Relaxed for you, maybe?" Paul rolled his eyes as his head was being tugged at as Marcy sectioned and pulled. "You think this was like an ordinary Friday night for me?" "Honey, the hard part is over and you already aced the hard part," said his mother as Danielle repaired his lips and looked at the outfit options. "It'll be fun having two sisters at dinner for the first time!" "It will?" said Paul as they tapped his chair to get up. "Definitely, and I love that one." His mother hugged him again and selected a dress. "Now get dressed. I'm starving!" "Let me help you off with your robe, Paula and you'll need a bra now, sweetie," said Ginger, holding a bra in her hands. "You kidding me?" Paul sighed as she helped him out of his robe. "But I didn't need one all day?" "That's because the dress had it built in, and your grandmother sewed in a little padding as well to give you shape," replied Ginger, sliding it on and clasping the back. "It's just a training bra with a little help built in, so no big deal. I picked one that will match your panties, and you'll forget you have it on in no time anyway." "Oh I doubt that," Paul turned beat red as he found himself looking down at himself in only a bra and panties in front of everyone. "It's fine honey, and every girl your age will have one on. Hands up, please," said his mother as she dropped a dress down his arms over his head. "Oh I like that choice, Mrs. Prieto. That's really cute on her," said Danielle, happy with the selection as Kristen zipped up the back and all eyes were upon him. "But we're going to have to address her little problem in certain outfits, so no time like the present or this dress won't work. Roberto?" "I'm on it ladies. One moment, please!" said Roberto, snipping some panty hose with a scissor. "Just about ready! There!" "What's that?" Paul asked, looking down confused as Roberto knelt in front of him. "Oh it's just one of the tricks of the trade we use and please don't mind my cold hands," said Roberto, reaching under his dress and pulling down his panties. "What the?" Paul yelled, embarrassed with his panties dropped to his ankles in front of everyone. "Relax! No one can see. Everything's under your skirt, and I've got what you got so it's no big deal," said Roberto, tapping his ankle to lift. "Step out and then in and after I help you, you'll be able to handle this yourself moving forward." "Handle..whhheewww," sighed Paul, being yanked back, tucked for the first time. "Holy crap." "Yeah takes a little getting used to, but that fades," said Roberto, tugging it up between his cheeks and then tapping his ankle again. "Step in again." "It's like a wedgie," said Paul, stepping back into his panties which were now pulled back up over the make shift gaff. "I can't stay like this." "Oh trust me, it'll stay just fine," said Roberto, sliding his palm across the front of the dress, making sure it was flat. "And I've got plenty of tricks depending on what you're in. We just didn't have to worry about tucking anything until now, as those big dresses you were in could hide an elephant's privates. Looks perfect now ladies." "Wow it does!" said Kristen as she took a moment, straightening the fit. Marcy now stepped in, digging the teeth of a headband across his forehead, pulling it in and out a few times, experimenting. Once she finally had it where she wanted, she pressed down, snapping the little combs into place and then took a few moments lifting the hair onto his shoulders. "That dress was my first choice too, just not with these shoes obviously," said Ginger, kneeling undoing the ankle straps. "These will work, though." "Those look even higher?" Paul stated as he held her shoulder, feeling the difference. "A little, but it's dinner and they'll be on display now with those gorgeous legs of yours," said Ginger, strapping on the second one. "But you'll handle them no problem. Just like you have everything else so far!" "It's no big deal and you'll be sitting most of the time in them anyway," said Lillian, inspecting him. "Remember to keep your legs crossed in a proper fashion Paula, and have a nice dinner, ladies." As Ginger stood back up, she handed him a pocketbook and showed him how to hold it with the strap over his shoulder. A few good night hugs from everyone were at least a reprieve that his day being dressed by strangers was over, and there he was off to dinner as one of the girls. As he turned seeing his image, what immediately stood out was seeing himself with smooth, bare legs now for the first time in a short skirt. He was certainly no different than any other tween dressed to be a step past the cute stage, on her way to a teen fashionista, as he looked like a catalog model in the latest spring fashion. He was dressed appropriately for dinner, in a trendy soft flowing short sleeve baby blue colored dress, with his face made up naturally. The silk collarless dress had a tapered bodice, and simple flat skirt that flared out ever so slightly just above the knee. For the first time the emphasis was no longer on a huge floor length skirt, as instead now he had the appearance of a little budding on his chest in a padded bra. At the waistline, a peach satin accent ribbon was built in, adding just a touch of delicacy as it weaved inside faux sewn in belt loops at each hip, adding to his thin appearance. The same peach accent thinly decorated the edge of each sleeve, and also at the very edge of the hem of his skirt. On his feet, peach peep toed crossover sling backs looked so high to him as he wiggled his painted toes. Seeing himself in heels, looking leggy seemed much too bizarre, as for the first time now his heels were no longer buried under his huge dresses. Even holding the strap of a pocketbook that was suddenly over his shoulder was just as peculiar, as he noticed that his peach hobo bag perfectly matched his shoes. With his elaborate updo taken down, a thin baby blue headband held his hair back off his face before fanning out behind his ears. The pulled back effect resulted in his curls seeming more voluminous and scrunched as they streamed down his back, sitting on each shoulder in a full bodied, pretty look. On his face, the blended eye shadows and molded cheeks were now replaced with soft pink neutral tones, yet a hint of pastel glimmer illuminated from the outer creases. Long lashes and thin liner remained unchanged, and the blue colored dress now wonderfully picked up his blue eye color. His lips also no longer popped with bright color, instead now looking more natural with just a hint of a salmon pink tint under a sheer gloss. "You have to be starving, my beautiful sister," joked Bridget, sliding her arm between his locking elbow as they walked. "I love you so much for doing all this." "I still hate you," Paul replied with a smirk as he knew how supportive she was and that she meant it. "Whether you'll admit it or not, I know you don't," said Bridget, squeezing him in and kissing his cheek as they walked. "But at least for a weekend, I'm going to enjoy having a little sister, Miss Paula Anne."