Passenger Seat Sister 9 free porn video

Passenger Seat Sister By Jena Corso Edited By Angela Meyers Chapter Nine "To see if you can fix your lips after a blow job?" laughed his sister. "I'm confident by now you can." "You bitch!" Craig breathed a sigh of relief. "You wanted to see if I really wanted to blow boys?" "Well you were really adorable, but quite the brat today," laughed Tara. "You passed, pumpkin patch girl." "Oh my gawwdd I hate you," said Craig, shaking his head and folding down the visor. "No you don't." Tara drove as he was fixing his lips. "And your lips rock in that color." "They do, right? And I want to hate you," said Craig, loving the shimmer from his lips and fussing with his hair in the mirror. "But I love my hair too much like this, so I can't at least until I learn to do my hair like this on my own." "Yeah good luck with that, bitch," joked Tara as they were laughing all the way. It would be ten more minutes of teasing and giggling with each other until finally Tara pulled over the car at the curb. She checked her text messages before texting back and then looked up at Craig curiously. "Ok, before I text back to confirm Ariana because I'm thinking today is your lucky day girl," said Tara, getting excited and animated. "Please be super honest sis, because I think this could be a score." "Sure," nodded Craig. "Ok, so you're still hot to get into a cheer outfit that I think you are going to rock, then I can hook you up with the right one," said Tara. "But I need to make sure that's what you really want?" "You know those are my favorite," sighed Craig. "I've wanted that even more than Batgirl!" "Ok, I'm just making sure that's what you've really dreamed of being in," said Tara, texting before looking up at him. "And also not trying to just look hot so my sexy my cheer sister can hook up with the wrong boy, correct? Promise me?" "Definitely not! Promise!" replied Craig confidently. "So you found a costume place with much better ones than the ones you hated on me?" "I didn't hate them, but if I'm taking you trick or treating like the little sister I want," Tara said. "Well then I figure you should be the cheerleader you want to be later, right?" "Yes!!" nodded Craig, getting excited. "Yes! Please!" "Fine, then get out and go break up with your boyfriend," said Tara. "I want no loose ends, and I want to know you're doing this for yourself, not some loser." "I don't understand," said Craig. "You know I have no boyfriend, and are you talking about Lucas?" "Yup, puke boy himself," said Tara, texting on her phone. "There's ten minutes left in his flag football game, so break up with him when it's over and let's leave nothing to chance." "But I'm not even dating him?" said Craig. "And at a football game?" "It's flag football, not real football. He's a pussy. Girls play flag and you deserve better," Tara explained. "Now after your stupid text reply, what do you think he thinks?" "Uuummm?" said Craig. "I'm not sure?" "Of course you are? He sent you flowers and you led him on," said Tara, digging through his pocketbook and taking out a case. "Now trust me I'm an expert on boys and you know that. Now put these on, they look cute on you and make you look smarter! Tougher! You still want to look hot, but you don't want to look too hot. Now go do it." "Shit!" Craig sighed as she slid on his glasses. "No doubt you're an expert, but he can't think I'm his girlfriend? He puked his lungs out at me?" "And quickly got over that," said Tara, reaching over and opening the door handle. "Now go fix it. Be quick, direct and an even a bitch if you need to be, but don't leave any room for misunderstanding, because I'm thinking if you don't then just maybe you're right about one thing?" "Finally!" snarled Craig. "And what's that?" "That if you don't, he might just come ringing the doorbell and then you'll have a much bigger problem," laughed Tara before glancing down at her phone. "Seven minutes! Now go stand there and cheer like a pretty girlfriend and then dump his sorry ass. Now get out and I'll watch from across the field out of sight, just in case but you won't need me!" Out of the car they went walking into a small complex with a couple of fields. He walked right down the middle, looking around and then easily spotting Lucas catching a pass. He was clearly one of most athletic kids on the field, making a few kids miss before they pulled off his flags as Craig just stood there quietly watching. When the play began, Lucas was sprinting his way towards the sideline and something triggered his attention towards Craig as they made eye contact before Craig lifted his hand, wiggling his fingers and delivering a girly wave. As the pass whistled past Lucas, just missing his face, Craig had to duck, almost falling on his ass as they both barely picked up the ball in the air, instead exchanging a relieved smile that they avoided some embarrassment. They shared a single gasp without speaking as Craig responded with a wink before wiggling his hips, straightening his skirt as he knew now he had Lucas's attention. For the last few minutes, Lucas was no factor in the game as his team could muster no answer with their best player distracted. After handshakes and some boys being boys, arguing and blaming each other, Lucas raced over as Craig was waiting. "Hey," said Lucas, catching his breath. "I had no idea you were coming?" "Well kids like me love sports as you know already, and I'm the type that's always full of surprises," said Craig, squishing his cheeks. "Right?" "Kinda," nodded Lucas, checking him out. "And I barely recognized you with the glasses and your hair like that. It looks so..." "Curly? I like to change it up a lot as you know," Craig replied, standing there looking bored and twisting one of his curls. "Tough game huhh?" "Yeah," said Lucas. "We lost." "I saw," said Craig, looking down, extending his nails and looking at his fingers, "7 to 14, right?" "Yup. That's out first loss," replied Lucas with a smirk. "And I thought you knew football? I think you mean 14 -7." "Yeah? Whatever? And you call that football?" said Craig, rolling his eyes. "Uuummm," Lucas stuttered, all insulted. "Well it's a little different that regular football if that's what you mean?" "Maybe? But at least the outfits are much cuter," smiled Craig, touching Lucas's leg, momentarily feeling the material and then biting his finger. "And you look really good in those tight pants. Isn't that what really matters?" "I'm thinking not, but I guess I'm glad you noticed, and thanks," Lucas replied flattered. "You're welcome, and I notice more than you think," said Craig, patting his arm and glancing down. "But I didn't come just to see cute boys in tight pants, and I needed to see you." "Still mad?" asked Lucas. "Wouldn't you be?" said Craig, putting his finger near his lips. "But don't answer that! I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful." Just as he finished that point, he leaned in, planting the softest kiss on Lucas's face, making sure to deliver the most perfect mark on his cheek. As he pulled back admiring the red stain, he reached down, grabbing his hand and then peeked over, seeing his teammates watching intently. "You're welcome," said Lucas, feeling cool now. "And I figured we could talk for a minute," said Craig, stepping back. "You know face to face." "Sure, and before you say anything, I wanted to thank you for coming?" mumbled Lucas. "I've never had a girl come watch me before." "And you still haven't though, have you?" said Craig, looking at him with some attitude. "Damn right I have, and please let me apologize for last night too," said Lucas. "I was a jerk and you didn't deserve any of that. You just shocked me and ...." "And I need you to shut up and we'll put this to bed," said Craig, putting his hands on his hips and then pointing his nail at him. "Damn right you were a jerk, and I won't see you again. Now I wanted you to hear it from my lips and not some impersonal text that could have been misinterpreted." "So like you're breaking up with me? That's why you came here?" said Lucas, making a face. "We weren't even really going out?" "No, and who's loss is that?" said Craig, shaking his head. You could have had the perfect deal with a girlfriend who'd dress hot for you without any of the drama bullshit, and no worries if you wanted to hang out with the boys or play sports, but you fucked that up by making some bad assumptions you know nothing about!" "Wait? Assumptions?" gulped Lucas. "Don't walk away. Tell me more. Maybe I did? That sounds amazing." "Sorry," replied Craig, walking away and wiggling his ass. "Please give me a second chance," said Lucas, racing in front of Craig, stopping him and grabbing his hand. "Ahhhh no," said Craig, pulling away his hand and walking around him. "Come on," said Lucas, racing in front of him again and putting his hands on Craig's shoulders to stop him. "You really are the hottest girl I've ever seen. Please! One last shot!" "Fuck up my curls and you'll see how really hot I can get," said Craig, pushing his hands off his shoulder looking him in the eyes, noticing how pale he was. "Sorry," said Lucas, nervously looking at him. "What a dick I am? But please.... how about one last hug?" "Fine?" huffed Craig, feeling bad, rolling his eyes and stepping back towards him. Craig took a breath, reaching in, hugging him and then Lucas sighed, loving the feeling and hugging him back. The little touches felt amazing as Craig wanted to forgive him, but knew he shouldn't as his hands rode up his back towards his hair. Lucas's fingertips beneath his curls reminded him of their first cuddle as Harley's pigtails wiggled playfully against his cheekbone, and his breath on Craig's neck invoked the stimulating recollection of the night before' s love bite. When goosebumps returned, he knew this was a bad idea and needed to push away but instead he moved his lips towards his ear. "So I still think you're an asshole, but if you promise not to ever send shit to my house again, since my mother doesn't know about this side of me, then maybe we can have a future conversation," whispered Craig into his ear during the hug. "Maybe?" "Really?" gulped Craig, "Then we're not broken up?" "Oh we damn well are, but since I can feel how much you do really do like me, then just maybe I'll text you to hook up at the Fright fest in a few weeks when my mom is away again," whispered Craig into his ear again before briefly stealing a nibble on his lobe and momentarily sticking his tongue is his ear, kissing it before ending the hug. "Maybe?" He pushed away now, not turning back and out the gate he went toward the car. As he got there, his sister was already inside as he got in and buckled up. "So looks like you did it?" asked Tara, pulling away. "You ok?" "Yeah," nodded Craig, looking ready to tear up. "That was a lot harder than I thought!" "Not as hard as it appears you left him." Tara reached over, grabbing his hand. "Please do not go there again," said Craig, almost laughing and crying at the same time. His emotions cracked up his sister even further as they laughed for a few minutes and then he needed to blow his nose and wipe his tears. He looked in the mirror, lifting his glasses wiping under his eyes and then reached over, taking his sister's hand again. "Nice touch at the end with the hug," said Tara. "Thanks," nodded Craig. "Always leave them wanting more, right?" "Absolutely!" smiled Tara, glancing over as she drove. "You did break up with him though, right?" "You saw me do it, didn't you?" sighed Craig. "Yeah," nodded Tara. "But I also saw that hug lasted quite a while, and I'm maybe thinking you might not be over him?" "You saw me feeling bad," said Craig, looking out the window. "Now can we please just go try on some cheer costumes like you promised? I want to enjoy whatever time I have left today, please." "As you wish, princess," joked Tara. "Cheer to cheer up my sister. I've been on that shit like you can't imagine, and you are going to really owe me this time." "I owe you for everything," said Craig, turning towards her. "You mean like for helping feel the way you've always wanted to, or for fucking up your brain," teased Tara. "Definitely both," laughed Craig. "Now stop getting me emotional or you will be helping me redo my entire face." "Like that should be an issue?" said Tara, parking the car. "But before we go try some stuff on, we'll start by getting your contacts in, ok?" "Cool," said Craig, turning towards him as she pulled out the solution. "We're at the costume store already?" "Not exactly," said Tara, putting the first one in for him. "But yeah?" "You're not the Joker now, so stop with the riddles?" said Craig as in went the next one. "Now please, I really want a costume like this even more than any other." "Yup, I know," said Tara, pulling back away from the curb and then turning into a big athletic complex. "Then why are we here?" Craig asked, looking around. "Isn't this where mommy would drop you for cheer practice?" "Yup, it's our Cheer Club's headquarters, and that my darling sister is our practice field," said Tara, pulling into a spot. "Oh gawwdd! I recognize the background and the turf," smiled Craig, looking all around. "Another Pucciarelli memory! Don't tease me like that, because I'd love to do some pictures there. Mom has so many of them with you posing there." "I know," said Tara. "This place brings back some of the best memories for me. It was amazing, and I can't wait to take some of you there. Ready?" "Uuuum?" said Craig. "Don't we need to go get the costume first?" "Well I thought since you loved mine so much," smiled Tara, softly reaching over and touching his hand. "You'd rather take them as a Cheer Elite girl like I did." "Oh myyy gawwddd, you know I would!" squealed Craig, getting excited. "I'm so happy you changed your mind about banning me from wear your uniform. I love it so much." "Yeah that's the thing," said Tara, handing him a form. "I didn't, so all you need to do is take this in with you. I've got everything arranged." "What the hell are you talking about?" Craig looked down. "This is a cheer try out form. Are you telling me to go try out?" "Not exactly, but kind of," said Tara. "Today is junior try outs for seventh and eighth grade girls, and you're already all signed up. I arranged everything with one of my old co-captains and one of my besties Jennifer, so all you have to do is walk in and hand her the form." "Jennifer Caruso?" gulped Craig. "But she knows me. She hangs out at our house?" "Exactly, so you have nothing to worry about," said Tara. "She's going to take care of you and hook you up." "I don't understand Tara?" Craig was confused. "I really don't want anyone else knowing my business, and all I want is a cheer costume." "Her older sister Carissa runs the salon where you got your haircut, and believe me she knew I had no little sister but did anyone treat you differently or spill the beans?" said Tara. "Did she?" "Well no. That felt amazing," said Craig, feeling his hair. "But you're saying she told her sister?" "She thought you were adorable, and all she did was have Jen call me to make sure we both knew they'd be there for us if we need anything, figuring you're going through some things," said Tara. "I told her you were fine, that this was more a Halloween thing and that we're doing a bit of experimenting. Now lean forward." "Well, that's kind of true?" Craig replied as his sister began gathering some of his hair on top. "Exactly," laughed Tara, winding in a band and pulling it up. "Your business is safe with friends like them, and believe me I have more shit on Jen than you can imagine, so trust me she's telling no one anything anyway. She's a loyal friend." "Actually I could use a few of those," said Craig as she tugged at the ends, pulling it tightly. "But please tell me what's going on?" "Just a little cheer hair," joked Tara. "No biggie, sis." "Not what I meant, and you know it," moaned Craig. "Dance class was one thing? Parties another. But you are seriously not asking me to try out like a cheerleader? All I wanted was the outfit, and I think I've experienced way more than enough this weekend. I know nothing about cheer." "Sweetie, this is the second round and I helped run these a million times when I was there," laughed Tara, flicking her wrist. "Ninety percent of the girls that are there unfortunately will be cut and so will you be after Jen puts in that she evaluated you and it's a no. You go in, Jenn is going to hook you up with the uniform and then you get dressed for your eval, because that's what they do in this round. It's like a private dress rehearsal that you actually won't be doing, and then out the back door you'll go your own uniform." "That's it?" smiled Craig. "But isn't that like I'm sneaking out stealing one." "No, actually I have to buy it because technically all the girls that have made it this far are on the waiting list as reserves. If I could have swiped one, we'd be done with this without all the fuss. These freaking people treat these uniforms like gold, and it's not like Jen will grade you high enough that you'd ever get called in as reserve," Tara handed him a check. "I'll tell mom I wanted the new uniform for the alumni event, which is true, so maybe I might be wearing it in the spring." "Fine, I'll share?" laughed Craig, taking the check. "But you're really sure about this?" "You do what she says, there's a lot of waiting around doing nothing, and then text me the minute they release you," replied Tara, reassuring him. "It's just a time consuming process but I'm thinking you sitting around in the outfit should work for you and then go right out the locker room door when you're done. I'll pick you up in the back." "That's it?" asked Craig. "Wait? In the back? You're not coming in with me?" "Can't. No parents or anyone but the girls," said Tara. "You'll be fine, just like you've been without me at the scary shit or wherever else we've been. So just go with whatever Jen says and the only thing that's given you an issue won't be one in there? You know.... Boys?" "Shut up, and I can't believe I'm doing this but....!" laughed Craig, taking a breath and opening the door, getting out. "I love that costume." "Uniform, and move your pretty ass, Ari," laughed his sister. "And trust me, I'm happy you'll have your own." Craig wanted to push up his middle finger as he just shook his head and walked right in. There was a line of five girls before him as he looked around at the scene, seeing two girls maybe a year or two older than him at the check in area. They were doing nothing more than collecting paperwork and updating fields on a laptop as a lobby of another half dozen girls were watching some Cheer videos on a few big screens. He was as calm as he'd ever been, comfortable knowing this should be fairly easy as his excitement to score the outfit he loved that he could soon possess on his own would shortly overshadow any anxiety. "Hi, Ariana Pucciarelli," said Craig, handing in his paperwork to a girl at the desk. "Thanks, Ariana. I'm Carlie, and I'll take that," said the girl, taking the form and handing another sheet to the girl next to her. "Sarah will take the other forms. Take a seat over there and you'll be called shortly." "Wait?" said the girl next to her named Sarah. "You're not Tara's sister are you?" "Uuumm," nodded Craig. "Yes." "Holy crap, you look just like her," said Sarah, getting excited. "Guys, it's a Mini-Puch." "No way," said another girl, coming over and hugging him. "I love your sister, and I'm Brittany. I didn't even know there was another Puch?" "Guess she's making the team?" whispered Carlie. "Hey ssshhh," said Brittany. "You can't say shit like that. There's like thirty girls here for like three spots." "I know, but her sister is a freaking Gaaawwwwd here!" said Sarah. "We miss her so much. Well at least most of us do?" "Wow?" said Craig, surprised. "I knew she was good and a captain, but I guess I didn't know she might be that good." "She's amazing, and really schooled last year's rookies big time," said Brittany, looking at them. "Now get back to work, girls." "Wait?" said Carlie. "Please tell me you have a boyfriend, right?" "Hopefully two?" said Sarah. "Me?" said Craig, thinking how he should answer. "Well, not exactly." "Oh gaawwddd," swallowed Carlie. "Please Ariana. I just got this boyfriend, and I really like him." "Shit!" said Sarah, covering her chest. "Me too! We just made six months." "Ok?" said Craig. "I'm happy for you girls I guess." "No, seriously," said Carlie, getting panicky. "Please! I'll carry your bags, ok?" "You bitch!" said Sarah, elbowing Carlie. "I was going to do that! But I'll teach you everything. I'm like the fastest girl here with our eye makeup routine. It' complicated, but I'll do yours right up." "Get back to work!" Brittany scolded her before looking at Craig. "But they're kind of right? Jeez look at you? You're not exactly like Tara right?" "Schedules to keep here ladies, and I got this Brit," said Jennifer, walking in, commanding the room and tapping Brittany before winking at Craig. "Please be seated, miss. I need this place moving like clockwork, girls." Craig went over as a few waiting girls gave him a nasty look as he seemed to have caused a minor stir witnessed by two or three girls behind him in line. He could tell some of them must have been gossiping about him and then he almost shit his pants, noticing a girl from his grammar school had walked in, apparently also trying out. He was happy to have a seat along the wall where she really had no eye contact with him and then finally Brittany called his name to come forward. "Ok, Ariana," said Brittany, leading him to a room. "Be seated and Jen will be in to interview you shortly." He barely sat down when in came Jen closing the door and running over and hugging him. "Oh my gawwdddd Craig... uuumm I mean Ariana," said Jen, squeezing him tight and then letting go, looking at him. "You look gorgeous in that outfit." "Thanks," said Craig turning beet red. "Don't worry sweetie! For your sister I would do anything, and I am going to hook you up big time," said Jen. "I heard you are looking to be a cheerleader for Halloween, so I agree with Tara. Why not be the best! A Cheer Elite girl, and damn! You already freaking pass with flying colors!" "Oh that's what she told you?" asked Craig. "Yeah I heard my sister gave you a trim and that Tara's been working on trying to help you to have fun like the little sister she never had," said Jen, flicking her wrist and folding over some pages. "Now stand still, I'm going to size you." "Oh sure," said Craig, getting excited as the tape went around his waist. "Thank you so much!" "Of course, doll! I hope you know she adores you, and I wish more guys would want to know what it's like?" said Jen, writing down measurements. "Even just for Halloween? All the shit we do to look good! I think that's awesome, and don't get mad at me for saying this, but when you put on that uniform, as pretty as you are already you may not want to take it off." "I'm flattered, Jen," smiled Craig. "But it's not like that?" "You know I'm being polite this whole time right?" smiled Jen. "And me and Tara are really tight, right?" "Oh?" mumbled Craig mortified. "Relax, honey," said Jen, handing him back a form. "It's cool no matter what, and I wasn't being polite when I said you look beautiful. You do." "Thank you," said Craig, embarrassed and looking down. "And then you'll be even more beautiful when you strut you pretty ass out of here in our new uniform," said Jen, tapping his arm. "It's so hot, and guaranteed Tara will be jealous." "That would be funny," perked up Craig, reading the paper. "But I think I'm a size 2?" "Maybe in Tara's clothes at home you are, but you measure a zero, sweetie, and even as skinny as she is, she's got some hips that you don't," said Jen, turning him and looking at the tag in his denim skirt. "Yup, zero, and these uniforms are meant to be tight and stretchy for girls with tight bodies, which you already have hon." "Gee," smiled Craig, staring down at his measurements again. "Ok, and good to know." "Ok, so take this paper down the hall and they'll issue you your uniform," said Jen, pointing. "Go into the locker room, change and then put your stuff in a locker. Here's you locker number, lock and then just go sit in the conference room with the other girls watching the routine videos. When it's over, I'll call you in for your eval, which you'll grade poorly on, and then eventually out with the cuts you will go, Miss Pucciarelli." "Thank you." Craig hugged her. "I can't thank you enough." "Can't wait to see you in it, and make sure you read the papers," said Jen, handing him an entire folder now and a small bag. "Basically no phones, pocketbook or really anything out of the locker room once you change, and then you change back, but take the uniform with you when you leave. Got it?" "Got it," said Craig, feeling his palms getting sweaty. "Oh, and I discussed the undergarments with Tara," said Jen, handing him a bag. "They'll issue you spanks like every other girl, which should cover whatever you call what you've got holding you in, and in this bag is what all of us use when we need a little boost. You, my dear, need a bigger boost but not too big. You're thirteen, and won't be the only girl in them, so these will do the trick. Peel, squeeze, stick and good luck Ariana." He stared down at the bag, dying to open it, yet almost felt faint. He looked at the papers inside the folder, seeing all the notes and little checked boxes on the uniform form as he was on pins and needles hurrying down the hall. He had an onboarding folder just like the real girls, as there was a waiver obviously signed by his sister, two pages front and back of detailed hair and makeup instructions, and three pages of rules. Right up to the window he went, trying to keep his trembling under control. An older woman took his form, stamping it and then pointing out a few items on the form she needed to review with him. He listened intently, growing more excited by the second and once he acknowledged them, it was like Christmas morning, as item after item began coming his way. Clear plastic unopened packages were like a tease as he could see the contents yet not touch them, and little by little turned to a stack. There were so many more pieces than he expected, but when finally a shoe box was placed down last and he almost couldn't breathe as for the first time, he signed his name as Ariana Lynne Pucciarelli in script. With his arms filled, he could barely see, not even feeling his feet feel the ground as he hurried through the room to find his locker. He ripped through the packages like a tornado, finding a sports bra, top, cheer spanks and a skirt. He stuffed his pocketbook and flats into his locker before sliding on the little ankle socks and racing over to the handicap stall to get changed. He could barely get his clothes off fast enough as he ripped open the underwear, pulling off his panties and stepping into the stretchy spanks, feeling great that they covered his make shift gaff, holding everything in place. It took a minute to figure out how to use the jiggly silicon additions, reading the instructions twice and testing where they should be as he pulled on the sports bra. When he thought he had it right, it felt weird to push them against his flat chest after peeling the sticky backs, but then it was like they lifted right up when he pinched them in towards the middle, fastening the clasp. Down came his sports bra, back over them as it was instantly one of the most exciting moments of his life. With them fastened together and adhered in place, he for the first time in his life felt the weight of jiggly boobs. He could not pull the stretchy Cheer top on fast enough now as he pulled it over his head and slid his arms inside the long sleeves. When he straightened it and yanked it down as far as he could, he instantly knew why she measured him everywhere and even decided his cup size. On a bustier girl, half his bra would be showing in the short cheer top, but his was ever so perfect, as being thin and fit was paramount to the outfit. He next stepped into the tiny skirt and just zipping it up sent his head into a spin. He'd done it with little issue just as his sister promised, never more elated as he'd dressed himself in a girls' locker room as a cheerleader. Out he came, proud of himself, skipping and the sliding on the vinyl tile gliding over to his locker, dying to put on his sneakers. When he opened the shoe box, it was not at all what he expected, as instead of white Reeboks, he gasped, seeing a snow white boot. He could not zip them on fast enough and then needed a minute to breath before opening the plastic packaging that contained his cheer bow. He touched it and then placed it down on the bench, almost admiring it's grandeur for a minute as he closed up his locker. He'd been in more bows than he could imagine this weekend, yet little ribbons his sister tied in or Dorothy's looped bows or even this morning's precious orange decorative pieces would be nothing like this. He was nervous just touching it as he picked it up, seeing some glitter stick to his fingers, turning his hands over gently and making sure not a sequin could be dislodged by his nails. Over to the mirror he walked, holding it resting atop both palms like it was fine piece of china, and then slid it off his hands ever so slowly onto the counter. If his sister hadn't put his hair up in a top half pony, he would have had a stroke just having to brush out part of his curls to create a spot to get it in. He could neither ruin any spirals nor wait any longer to get it atop his head, but luckily she set the stage as he was dying inside to see the full picture of himself as a Cheer Elite girl. He bit his lip, unable to control his smile as he bowed his head forward, closing his eyes and grabbing ahold of the base of his top pony, sliding his hair through the bows attached stretchy band. Around once, then again went the band as he stretched it with his fingers until his most girly instincts took over and he wound it in a few more ties until it was taut. When he flipped back his head now and tugged at the ends of his hair before straightening the bow, he could barely believe where he was or what he'd done. He stepped back, turning to one side and then the other with his hands on his hips, as all he could think about was that whatever angst there was in coming inside to the try outs was now all worth it. Before long, two more girls had made their way to the lockers and then he knew he should leave as they began stripping down. He went into the conference room, sitting quietly, watching instructional videos with the other girls there as he could see how serious some of them were watching. For a minute it was almost like he was one of them as they discussed some routines and memorized cheers, yet he could see how they glared at each other as competition. Just being at the table with no one paying him any mind that he wasn't one to the girls was kind of fun, until the tensions grew deeper, as one by one girls were called out for their evaluations. As each one would come back, there seemed to be a mix of emotions from confident to freaked out, yet he was neither, just relaxed. He sprung from the chair when ten minutes later Jen called him, and followed her right into the room with a swagger in his step. "Oh myy gawwddd, Miss Ariana," said Jen, sitting down. "You look amazing in that! Your sister will freak the fuck out when she sees you in this outfit?" "I know she will, and thank you," said Craig proudly. "I can't wait to put it on again later for her. It's going to be a really fun Halloween thanks to you, Jen." "My pleasure, girl," said Jen, writing on the form. "Ok, so you'll go back in one more minute, then I'll turn in your form. In ten more minutes, everyone will be done and then twenty girls will be gone. The rest will be sent back to the lobby and be the final alternates, of which you will be one of them." "Really?" asked Craig confused. "It's nothing, and you're Tara's sister, which means even without seeing you, girls think you're good," said Jen, flicking her wrist. "Consider it a gift because of who you, are and all that does is put you on the short list which means you get a warm up, cheer bag, sneakers and our road uniform at no cost. I figured you'd appreciate the apparel." "Shut up! All that?"! squealed Craig, jumping up from the chair. "As if!" "Yes," smiled Jen. "Would I b.s you, girl?" "That's so cool," sighed Craig. "I mean thanks." "It's ok, and for you, anything! Now you'll get called to my desk for profile questions, and then after that you just have to sit around until they do the final cuts, which is sometimes slow," said Jen. "I'm going to sneak into the locker and steal my phone out for a second to text your sister so she knows what's happening. See you in a bit." Craig was on cloud nine, feeling incredible in his outfit and then even more excited he'd be getting the entire kit. He walked back into the room without a care in the world, as girls were in anguish, pulling their hair out. It was tough to watch though, as so many were sobbing as they were turned away and then he walked back to the lobby area with the mostly cocky remaining ten girls. When his turn came, he went up to the desk with Jen and some others, answering basic questions. It was really no big deal, already being coached by Jen on the answers, and then he went to sit back down. He watched them debate and then he was one of the first girls called back up and given the bad news. "Thank you, Miss Pucciarelli," said Jen, handing him a slip of paper and delivering a wink. "You did well, but unfortunately you'll be an alternate on our waiting list should something change. Take this to the uniform window, collect you gear and hopefully you'll be hearing from us." He was practically skipping as he walked with a small group of girls who were emotional wrecks towards the locker room and waited in line for their gear. After he got his stuff and walked towards his locker to change, a woman interrupted him as soon as he opened it. "I do see the resemblance in you, Pucciarelli," said a woman, maybe his mother's age. "Are you anything like that sister of yours?" "Thank you," answered Craig politely. "A little bit I guess." "Hopefully the little is the skilled pretty side of her, and not the wild, obnoxious side," said the woman. "No definitely not that side," laughed Craig. "Well then the rest might be enough," said the woman. "Put your other stuff in the locker and follow me please, Ariana." "Follow you?" asked Craig concerned. "See, there we go! That didn't take long," said the woman, pushing his stuff in the locker and slamming it. "Simple command, Pucciarelli. Put your shit in the locker and follow me. Is there a problem already, young lady?" "No," gulped Craig. "Good, because I'm Mrs. Jones, and I run the school in case you didn't know," said the woman. "Now move your ass, and do you think I didn't realize why your sister must have brought you here and snuck you in, princess." "Oh crap," mumbled Craig. He looked at the back door, thinking he should make a B-line for the exit, pretty sure he was outed and then she turned, sternly looking at him. "See when I say move your pretty little ass, I mean move it," scolded Mrs. Jones, opening a door with a key as he now had to walk right through it. "Yes ma'am," said Craig, petrified as it closed behind them. "So do I start by stripping off that uniform and calling your mother, or should I expect to have your full cooperation," said Ms. Jones, tapping her nails on the wall. "Full cooperation," Craig replied. "Good, then I damn well better get it, and your sister should have known I would have remembered passing a Pucciarelli through to the second round," said Mrs. Jones, folding her arms. "I of course know you weren't here and have no cheer experience whatsoever, dear. I'm not a fucking fool, and obviously I know exactly why you're here." "You do?" sighed Craig, ready to piss himself. "Oh please," scolded Mrs. Jones. "Like I don't know exactly why that bitch of a sister you have snuck you in?" "I'm sorry," said Craig. "Don't blame her, blame me. It was her idea, but I'm the one that wanted to be in this uniform. It's my fault. I'm the one that would sneak into her room and into her uniform, wanting to know what it would be like." "Jeez, brutally honest?" laughed Mrs. Jones. "The apple really doesn't fall far from the bitch of a tree!" "Probably not?" said Craig, bowing his head. "Alright?" nodded Mrs. Jones. "I'm going to make like that bitch didn't set up any of this, but you will do exactly as I say, no questions asked, and not even make a peep. Do you understand me, princess?" "Thank you," said Craig, unable to even look at her. "You'll get no trouble from me, Mrs. Jones" "I fucking better not! Get inside, and right now. I don't have all fucking night," said Mrs. Jones, unlocking another door and grabbing his arm, pulling him in. Asked Craig, stunned, seeing half-dressed cheerleaders everywhere getting ready and people helping them. "My war room, darling! Kimberly, Candice, over here at once!" said Mrs. Jones, holding him by the elbow. "Ladies, snap to it. I need her in basin two, and all hands on deck. She is not the only newbie, and obviously you started the others, but she's now behind schedule so move it!" Before he knew what hit him, two women scrambled over and Kimberly was snapping a cape around his neck, covering his uniform while Candice was leading him across the room towards a series of red chairs. He was in their huge makeup room with girls everywhere doing their faces at a long mirrored counter, while others were doing their hair. Three or four dozen girls at various stages of being ready were overwhelmingly distracting, as the next thing he knew, they had seated him in one of the red chairs and turned on the water. "What's happening here! Ouucchhh!" moaned Craig as Kimberly pulled out his bow and then back went his chair. "Isn't this all for girls that made the team?" "You're in hair and makeup," said Mrs. Jones as they began saturating his head. "And you've made nothing. Consider this a trial, as I'd like to get a better look at you fully put together." "Really, so you're doing my hair and makeup like the actual team," Craig asked as they were lathering him up. "And so I'm not in trouble anymore?" "Kimberly, give me as many shades as you can in twenty minutes please, and get me a nail tech plus a brow girl here while she tones," said Mrs. Jones, looking at her watch and then down at him. "Well let's say you'll be in some hot water for a while, young , and I told you, you damn well better give me no trouble if you intend to get out of it. Now shut that Pucciarelli motor mouth, listen and maybe you'll learn something." When Mrs. Jones spoke, everyone jumped, as quickly a girl rolled over a table and sat, taking his hand and began working on his nails. Exactly what they'd be doing to them he had no idea as he stared up at the ceiling as older woman now appeared, looking down at him and touching his forehead. If anyone would be talking to him, he'd have to read lips as Mrs. Jones pushed some wireless ear buds into his ears and then suddenly on came some sort of instructional audio. Above his face she raised what looked like a plastic stencil and pressed it over his right brow. With a brush she seemed to fill in the stencil and then quickly flipped it to the other brow. This was quick and painless, but that was short lived as she lifted it away before he noticed this long stick with something that looked gooey on the end approaching him. With her fingers she pressed his eyes closed, sending his nerves into shambles inside, instantly worried that they'd reshape them to something he couldn't conceal, and then before he could even object, felt a warm stickiness across the bridge of his nose. Moments later, she pressed down, applying some light compression and then he squirmed in the chair, feeling some hairs being ripped out. As he popped his eyes open ready to freak out, the woman just gently pushed them closed again, continuing her work, touching beneath his left brow now with the applicator stick. It was already too late to object, as speedily she worked at the top of his left lid beneath his brow, ripping off the next strip as he just hoped this wasn't as bad as it possibly could be. He tried not to focus on what was now occurring, instead listening to the instructional audio, which was all about body movements for cheer routines. As little hairs were being waxed from his brows, he was stuck there, engrossed in learning positions and then hearing them being tied to actual cheers. There was so much going on now when finally the ripping seemed to end at his brows that even popping his eyes open and seeing the little tweezers as she looked down on him was barely registering. In another few minutes, the plucking would soon stop though, as it really felt soothing to have a moisturizer briefly massaged into his face before oddly when she finished, his chair began to rise. After a few inches the rising stopped, as he saw a plastic cap being held open between Kimberly's fingers and then quickly the elastic would be snapping over his forehead. When she finished tucking his hair inside, up rose the chair now to a fully elevated position like how he started, and then over his left shoulder he watched the big bonnet dryer being rolled behind him. Down it came and within seconds on went the heat as he looked around, still seeing girls everywhere scurrying to get ready. Away walked the hair and brow ladies over to other girls now, and then he looked down, seeing his nails being completely re-done. It was certainly just another distraction, yet not as big a diversion as seeing gorgeous cheerleader after cheerleader helping each other. He was watching intently at how they curled their hair or put on makeup, as for the first time in his life, he could actually stare without being worried about being glared at like he was a creep. He loved to glance at his sister getting ready, but that could only be from afar and for brief periods without being caught. He loved poking his head in and asking questions about meaningless things when she'd be getting ready, like he needed her help when of course he didn't, so typically she would answer him and then send him away or close the door, annoyed he had disturbed her. That he no longer had to do now with his dressing secret a thing of the past, and if Tara thought about all that now she must have known of course what was happening previously. Ten minutes under the dryer until the timer went off felt like ten seconds, as he was never more captivated by women in various stages of preparation, but that was over now as away rolled the dryer and back went his chair. "Eyes closed," Candice stood over him with the metallic gun. Across his face now blew the soft air, as the motor kicked in and he relished the sensation of a lightweight foundation being airbrushed on. When finally it went off and he popped open his eyes while she applied some concealer, he was getting his first taste of significant bronzer, with fluffy powder brush with a rounded top. Across his forehead, cheeks, jawline and then finally his neck went a color a few shades darker than his skin, as this was nothing like being a pasty Harley or the bare complexion of an ordinary everyday girl. Once she'd blended and finally added his blush, on went the water again as Kimberly had jumped back to his hair. Scrubbing and hosing carefully now to avoid water in his face was a brief process, and then in went the conditioner as Candice held a false lash up above his face. He always wanted to try one as he felt anxious yet excited as it down it came as she measured it against his. Like a tease, she tried three or four different ones until she pulled them away and then they were gone from his line of sight. It was completely disappointing when instead he saw the colorful pallet in her hand and then in went her brush as she worked on his eyes. Back and forth she went as he peeked every chance he got, amazed by the variety of her selections. Bright colors and shimmery shadows would never be more exciting, being part of the blend that would touch down on his eyes, as never more did he want to see the result. He loved having his sister do his face more than anything, but having real makeup artists' work on him made it twice as exhilarating. Pencils on his waterlines, fine brushes at every crease and liquid liner were like juicy appetizers, before finally he looked up, seeing some glue squirt across the edge of the long false lashes. When the first one pressed down and they were rinsing conditioner from his hair, he could feel a chill in his bones when Candice lifted away her hand. It was like the most beautiful black monarch butterfly was now fluttering beneath his brow as he blinked continually while she pressed down the other one. Back and forth she annoyingly pressed on their edges, until they were adhered to her liking and then he couldn't help but feel warm inside, knowing they were bonded to him. From eye to eye she jumped, carefully combing through his lashes with her lash brush, blending them together before eventually coating them with mascara. A black pencil making some fine adjustments to his liner and then a red one outlining his lips made him her willing human canvas. Coloring inside the lines with a lip brush after it was dipped into a bright pallet would bring her canvas to life as it took every muscle in his face to hold in his smile. "Mind your nails, Ariana," Kimberly ordered as she raised his chair and then tapped him to follow, as he knew he was made up just like the other girls. With his fingers extended at each side, he followed her to a chair where she had a series of hair tools like a regular hairdresser and then sat, never more excited as he caught a glimpse of himself. It was quick but just as electrifying, as bright lips and bold shimmery shadows popped off his face, yet only a momentary preview of what would come as she stepped into his way before pulling the towel off his head. Into his face dropped some of his wet locks, as instantly what was previously thrilling became extremely alarming. He knew well the color of his lifelong dirty blonde hair when wet, except now a more yellow tone hung as a stringy mess damply against his face. On went her hairdryer as she brushed and blew it away from his face, as all he could hope was his eyes had deceived him or they'd done something temporary like his sister had previously. This though was no chalk or spray on after the fact treatment, as instead his mind wandered, knowing he'd sat under the dryer with chemicals on his head under a plastic cap. She pressed on a pedal, spinning his chair as she dried the left side and then blew through the back. It was almost better he couldn't see, as she moved to the right and then finally put down her dryer. She brushed away from his face and then took the point of her rat-tailed comb, carving a straight line down the left temple and then the right before twisting the selection atop his head, then squeezing down a clip. With the top out of the way, she again dug the point midway through all his remaining hair on the left atop his ear and began to braid. He immediately knew the feeling of little braids being tightly woven away from his left temple and then slightly bending upward towards the crown of his head. Once the first one was tied off with a small clear band, she began weaving another from the front just above his ear before tying it off around the same place. Over to the right she jumped, matching her work on the left and then both sides of his head sat in symmetry. His real heart attack came next as she unsnapped the clip atop his head and then golden locks that were no longer his natural color tumbled down in his face. She took a minute brushing through it all, and then at the middle of his head, he felt her scrape across, sectioning. With most of it still in his face, she held the small section she was working on straight up tautly and then began backcombing down towards his crown. Up came her big aerosol can now from her vanity before she flipped back the section and pulled taut on the next. "Huhh!" Craig gasped, completely terrified at what he would see when he really would soon get a good look at the color, yet he was dying to see the result. His eagerness would have to wait until she tugged, teased and flipped back four distinct sections as finally there would be no more hair sitting in front of his eyes. Quick douses of hairspray would be followed by the softest strokes of her comb through all of it now and accompanied by her hands patting down on her work. Blonde bobbi pins and another clear band would be added to hold her creation and then a much bigger douse of spray would finish his front. When she stepped behind him now and spun his chair back to a mirror into a locking position, his jaw would be equally locked as he sighed in shock. "I'm so screwed," mumbled Craig, seeing the golden blonde locks in a hill like pouf from temple to temple. The huge cheer bump just like his sister had always worn now mushroomed from his head as he gasped at its grandeur and color. He was dying to reach up and touch it, but his vision was quickly interrupted as she pressed his head down a bit, brushing from the nape up, gathering the back of his hair. Stroke after stoke into her hand was of course a quite familiar feeling, and then she pulled his head back upright again as behind his puff sat a high pony. It could not have been more thrilling as she pulled out little sections, teasing and then spraying them like crazy before she stretched them between her fingers, winding in her spiral iron. When the first one came out and she prepared for the next, it was sheer bliss like he could have never imagined. Perfect spiral curl slightly smaller than the ones he had earlier from the curlformers now were being tossed one after the other at each side of his bump. What started the day as pretty thick ringlets on his shoulders was now becoming a mass of gorgeous corkscrew spirals, no longer sitting loosely in a curly every day style, but instead hanging from the pinnacle of his head. When finally every dangling strand had been twisted and a good three dozen spiral sprungs had been created, she oddly collapsed all the curls in her hand, sliding on the band of the bow to the base of his high pony. He could feel himself getting emotional now as she stretched the attached band around for the third time, and then it snapped down tightly as there it was again atop his head. "Please, Ari," said Kimberly, straightening his face as he was twisting his neck a little, amazed how this time the bow was centered behind his huge cheer pouf. "It's getting late, and I need to finish." "Sorry," said Craig, as his eyes grew wide as up came this very long curled weft. It was almost a perfect match to his new hair color, yet was so much longer than his natural hair. From her vanity now she grabbed a few pins, stuffing some into her teeth and then held one end of the extension at the base of his pony. Never at all did he expect this, as she pinned the end against the knot of his scrunchie and then began tightly winding it around his curls. It went around four times in all before she added pin after pin and then another clear scrunchie to help secure it. From her vanity she took one more single blonde, straight strand, pinning it to the nub of the pony and then wrapped it around the trunk, covering the entire base in hair. When she finished, it looked like his hair itself was the scrunchie, and then she lifted a scissor from the counter. Out she stretched a few sections on top, and then stunned him further as curls began flying to the floor. "Don't fidget, or I could cut your own hair by accident," said Kimberly ,stopping and straightening his face. "It's just layering to make it look right, as the extensions are all one length when we wrap them around. Just know you need to pin it on the same way starting at the top when you use it again and it'll be perfect, honey." He almost couldn't believe this mass of curls was now blended with his, as she layered the extensions above and below his own hair, sculpting a spiral mane. When finally snippets of blonde twirls had been tossed to the floor, she stepped back in front of him one last time, lifting and teasing his hair. The front of the extension behind the bow and his own hair were no longer distinguishable from each other, as she sectioned and picked, expanding them exponentially. Every tug of the weft tugged pins tightly bound and hidden atop his head, yet he didn't mind any pinches at this point, just anxiously awaiting the result. She'd fold his hair forward, teasing vigorously above at the roots and every so often slow down the process, redoing curls from the teased section down. A few more minutes of this intensity would be nerve racking, as he was dying to see the result and then after more hairspray than the rest of his weekend combined rained down on him, she finally tenderly patted his hair, moving out of his line of sight. "Holy shit," sighed Craig, in awe of himself. "So please give me back my ear buds, Miss Pucciarelli, and let's hope you learned something while you listened to them, missy," said Mrs. Jones, walking up behind him, slapping away his hands, and taking out his air buds herself. "Always ask if your nails are dry first, young lady! You blondes are all the same." "Uumm yes, Mrs. Jones," replied Craig, marveling at himself in the mirror as Kimberly pulled off the cape. "But I've never been this blonde." "Well now you really do look like your sister," said Mrs. Jones, touching his shoulder and then looking at his fingers. "And they are dry, so get up, but carefully before you chip them. Two more minutes and you'd be holding me up, Ariana." "You're right? This does look like the color she dyed her hair last year," gulped Craig."This is not washing out, is it?" "Why would we want that, and it was a dirty mousey blonde without any pizzazz," said Mrs. Jones, shaking her head. "Plus Tara was a bit more platinum last year, but how much do you think we can do in a day? You'll get there eventually, and you think you're in a position to make demands already, princess?" "No," said Craig, backing down. "I wasn't making any?" "Damn right you're not! You haven't even done a single cheer yet," said Mrs. Jones, slapping her hands. "Ok get all your pretty asses on the bus, girls. Chop chop ladies!" "What are you talking about?" asked Craig, hurrying over to her and interrupting. "I can't get on any bus. I thought you were just evaluating me, and my sister will be here to pick me up." "I did, and you passed. If you have one tenth of the talent your sister had in her pinkie, then you're worth training. Your sister was the biggest pain in the ass I've ever had, but also the best cheerleader I've ever had too," said Mrs. Jones, opening a door into the Captain's private dressing room. "Captains get your asses in here and take a newbie, please. We leave in thirty second, and they're all about to piss themselves." "Huuhh," sighed Craig, covering his nose and mouth, shivering at his latest predicament. He was in love with his image, but not what the image would need to do, suddenly stuck as a blonde Cheer Elite cheerleader. It was all he could do just to peel his square tipped French manicured nails from his face and accept what he had allowed to be done to him, as he stared at his hair a good four shades lighter and quite golden blonde now. He stretched his fingers, trying to compose himself, amazed at how they dressed up the pink French manicure with a small aqua and hot pink line inside the tip, as every detail from head to toe would not be missed. He was now made up exactly like the other girls, with bright hot pink glossed lips, over blushed berry cheeks and shimmery cheekbones. Thick, false curled lashes flickered inside his distinctly reshaped brows, and thick liner defined his cat like eyes. Sparkly eye pink into soft blue glitter, filled shadows with an aqua accent at the outer edges perfectly accentuated his hot pink and aqua cheer outfit, as he stood there scared stiff. Atop his head sat a huge, hot pink and aqua glitter and sequin filled cheer bow, which was positioned in a perfectly formed valley created by his distinct cheer hairdo. From temple to temple now a golden cheer bump towered above his forehead, and was framed on each side by two small tight braids above each ear. Each braid and the entire back of his hair were then pulled up behind the bow into an enormous fountain style, high pony. The ultra-teased collection of his own hair and pinned on extensions were flipped back in a high teased wave shaped spout, before cascading down behind his head in endless layers of golden spiral curls. In his white cheer boots and hot pink, white and aqua cheer crop top and skirt covered in stars, sequined trim and the Cheer Elite branding, he was finally an all-star, yet this was no baseball pipe dream. Instead he looked as he always dreamed he could in his sister's outfit, but Halloween had come much too early. Instead, his knees were knocking as he'd now need to do more than just model the new Cheer Elite uniform for Halloween fun, as he stood there terrified but drop dead gorgeous. "Holy shit, Ariana," said Jen, hurrying over. "What were you thinking? You're not supposed to be in here with these girls? I cut you, and sent you away an hour ago?" "I wasn't trying to be," replied Craig as Jen was shuttling him along with her. "Somehow she roped me in?" "Somehow?" said Jen, looking at him. "Somehow you got your makeup and nails done! Your hair dyed and curled?" "Yeah?" Craig answered confused. "Somehow?" "Well Miss Somehow better focus on her routine on the bus, because your part will be easy, but welcome to the team somehow, Ariana?" said Jen, shaking her hand as suddenly they were out the back door. "Your sister is going to kill me!" "Oh gawwdddd," Craig sighed, seeing the squad loading onto the yellow school bus. "I can't do this! You know I'm not really a girl Jen, and this can't be happening?" "Maybe you should have thought of that before you let them dye your hair and bump it up huge? Or how about have you memorize cheers and dances in your head phones for an hour?" said Jen, annoyed. "Did none of that seem odd to you?" "After the weekend I've had?" replied Craig, sighing. "I know this won't make sense to you, but not exactly. Now my phone's in the locker, so please text Tara for me." "Every girl's phone's in the locker until we get back from the game," said Jen, rolling her eyes. "Game?" gulped Craig. "Yeah, we cheer at a big football game today, and I'll have to find a way to get a message to her once we get to the high school," said Jen, holding her head. "In the meantime we better walk through what you'll be expected to do on the half hour ride." Craig was beginning to shake as the bus began pulling away as Jen opened her cheer bag, taking out some routine sheets. When the bus turned from the back lot, he looked over, seeing his sister making out with a boy as she was in the parking lot, leaning against her car and then yanked down the window a crank, calling out to her. "Heeyyyyy," yelled Craig in a whiny voice. Her head popped up hearing his voice and looking around, yet she didn't see him. As the boy leaned back in, she pushed him back alarmed that she thought she heard him and then spun looking the other way. As the bus turned, he pounded on the window and then she looked their way as he was waving as their eyes met. "Oh thank gawwd," said Craig, making eye contact. "Oh MYY GAWWDD!" panicked his sister, seeing him all made up and on the cheer bus. "Is there a problem, Pucciarelli?" said Mrs. Jones, turning around. "No ma'am," said Craig, turning right back to sitting forward at attention. "Good, then close the window before you destroy your hair or someone else's," said Mrs. Jones, spinning around and then tapping her chin. "I better not fucking regret this!" "Don't worry," said Jen. "She saw you, and I'm guessing from the way she dashed off she'll meet us there. Now let's just focus, ok Ariana?" His sister scurried to her car as the bus pulled away and then Jen began tutoring him about what would be expected. He was getting a crash course on what the newbies would be doing, which really wasn't that much as everything he heard on his headphones was beginning to now make sense. He'd be mostly in the front of the older girls, doing simple four or five step routines and then flipped around, doing limited flips and basic step overs with their assistance. As the bus pulled up at the stadium, he was stepping out as a Cheer Elite girl and looked everywhere, yet Tara was nowhere in sight. He knew she must have followed the bus, but maybe couldn't get in this area as there'd be no instant escape he hoped for, so then followed in line as instructed. Into the fancy high school stadium they ran as it was a thrill just to be out on the turf as they waved and drew whistles from the crowd. It was mostly simple at first, as they lined up waving their pom poms as the players ran out and then he followed along with a few simple cheers in formation, lip synching to cheers he half knew. Half time really tested his memory, as he could no longer complain about his dance school, as his hand gestures certainly were improved, as was his tap rhythm. The biggest impact though came from learning the most basic rocks and pops from hip hop as suddenly he had confidence. When he completed his longest routine and they guided him through his flips with their hands as his guides, he stood soaking up the screaming crowd as a Cheer Elite cheerleader with his hands in the air. The third quarter and then surrounding all the boys, waving their pom poms after they won was easy for him as he found himself excited to be there and was no longer worried. When all was said and done, the girls were hugging each other and even commending the newbies for a first job well done, as some began making their way off the field towards the bus. He looked up as he had done throughout the game, searching the crowd everywhere for his sister, growing nervous when he couldn't find her yet, figuring she may not have been able to get into the sold out game and was waiting by the bus. Worst case he figured he'd be on that bus back with the other girls and then no doubt he'd find her at the cheer headquarters. He starting following some cheerleaders away from midfield as girls were everywhere talking to players and parents. He still looked everywhere as he weaved through conversations and celebrations, still hopeful until finally when he was near the tunnel he gave up hope. "Hey, Ariana," said a voice touching his shoulder as he walked off with the girls. "Glen?" asked Craig surprised. "Wow," said Glen smiling at him. "I didn't know you were a cheerleader." "Yeah, me either," laughed Craig. "I mean well. I'm kind of new at it." "Well you were amazing," said Glen, staring him up and down. "I couldn't take my eyes off you." "Oh I'm thinking you did," smiled Craig, flattered and tapping his arm. "I watched the whole game you know." "Cool," said Glen. "You think we could talk for a minute." "Uuummm I guess?" replied Craig uncomfortably. "But I can't miss the bus." "You won't," said Glen. "Just a minute, ok?" "Sure," said Craig. "And I didn't know you were a quarterback? Wow you were amazing. That was so clutch. You won the game for your team." "Oh thanks," said Glen humbly. "Just a lucky run I guess." "You mean lucky to run over like three guys and faked out like four more," Craig said. "That was incredible." "Thanks again," said Glen. "But not exactly what I hoped we could talk about?" "Oh yeah," said Craig, looking down. "And about Friday night, before you say anything. I kind of never got to apologize." "For what?" asked Glen. "For not feeling well. No apology necessary." "Well honestly it was more nerves," said Craig, a bit ashamed. "And I do need to. You were a great guy and I really do need to. I'm sorry." "Ok, if you feel that way but you shouldn't need to," said Glen. "Honestly I really just want to see you again." "And now you did," said Craig, turning away. "And I better go." "Wait! Please," said Glen, stopping him. "Not what I meant! So I was thinking maybe we could try again?" "Try again?" Craig was shocked. "Well, there's a costume party for couples, and I know you like dressing up?" said Glen. "Oh I don't know, Glen," said Craig, wanting to run off. "I've been thinking I'll be taking a break from dressing up soon, and I better get to the bus." "You sure?" said Glen. "I have an amazing batman costume, and I know you said you bought a batgirl outfit. Wouldn't that be fun?" "Wow." Craig was loving the idea, but knew he couldn't. "But I don't know." "Well if not that, how about you go with me to the formal," said Glen. "No costumes required for that." "You want me to be your date to the formal?" asked Craig, dumbfounded. "You mean like the big dance where girls wear these huge ballroom gowns." "Definitely, I'd love to take you and I could use a date," said Glen, turning red. "But honestly I'd just love to take you out anywhere again? Anywhere you want, Ariana." "Glen, I don't think you can count that as a date." Craig was trying to come up with an excuse. "And I'm really flattered, but I'm still in eighth grade you know. So even as naive as that sounds, I'd have to ask my mother and I'm pretty sure I know what'd she say." "Do you?" a familiar voice said behind him. "So then why don't you ask me, because I heard the whole thing?" "Holy!!" gulped Craig, spinning around like a top towards her. "Mom, I can explain. And I thought you weren't coming back until the morning." "I wasn't until I got a call from the ambulance that your sister totaled the car," said his mother. "Oh my gawwdddd is she alright?" panicked Craig. "Yes honey, airbags are a wonderful thing and a car is only a possession," said his mother, coming over and touching his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "All I care about is my children, and we'll talk later about so so much missy, but in the meantime there appears to be something you wanted to ask me?" "Oh uumm. Not right now I guess, and why don't you get back to Tara and.... And... I think I need to get on a bus with the team and .... And... I'll meet you at home," mumbled Craig, completely flustered. "I just.. just...." "I'm sorry, Mrs. Pucciarelli," interrupted Glen, stepping in. "I guess I should be the one asking. Excuse my rudeness ma'am, and I should not have put your wonderful daughter in a bad spot like that, so please accept my apology, but I'd like your permission to take out your daughter." "Glen, you do not know what you're asking here?" said Craig, flustered and flush in the face. "Please, you're the nicest guy ever, but I do not think you really want to get involved with me." "Ariana, it's ok and I really do," said Glen, touching his arm and lowering his voice. "I'm not sure there's an elegant way to say this, but I know you're... you know? Something different than people think, or maybe like born gender-wise not as you appear anyway." "You do?" asked Craig stunned. "Yes," nodded Glen before winking. "And I know you're the same Pucciarelli I played little league against for two years. Which I'm guessing you don't remember me from, but that's ok." "But how?" said Craig miffed. "No one else has recognized me?" Well I didn't at first, but you've got quite a unique swing that I saw last night, Miss Quinn, and recognized right away," said Glen. "Plus I'm the one that works in the back room at the optometrist office with my brother and I processed the paperwork for Craig. I was only skeptical Friday night when we met, but maybe I was blinded by your pretty eyes, but by Saturday after that swin, ig put two and two together." "Great?" Craig frowned. "But I guess what's the difference, because everyone thinks I swing like a girl anyway." "I'd like to call it a unique swing for a unique girl, except now I'd rather call it a beautiful swing which matches the beautiful girl you've blossomed into," said Glen, taking his hand and looking into his eyes. "And you know batman has always had a thing for Harley right?" "That was you last night?" said Craig, looking up at him. "You were one of the guys in a batman suit?" "One of the many batman's there. Yes, and I'd love to take you to the costume party as Batgirl, or be your prince and you could be my princess or any couple thing you want," said Glen, smiling at him and rubbing his fingers. "Now come on, it's crazy that we keep winding up in the same places, and I doubt that can keep happening, so please Ariana? I just want to see you if your mom will allow it." "Excuse me for asking Glen, and ruining the mood, but you seem like a wonderful young man and obviously as a football star you are opening up yourself to quite the issues if you two are found out," said his mother. "You sure this is what you want, even if I did allow this?" "I'm the product of two moms Mrs. Pucciarelli, so I've grown up in a gender neutral family with a transgender cousin, and I could care less about what anyone thinks," said Glen, standing proud. "Really all they care about is if I can score touchdowns, and all I care about is dating a nice person. In fact a really nice person like your daughter." "I can't believe you feel this way," said Craig floored. "But there are plenty of nice girls like that Glen, and I may look like one of them right now..... but unfortunately I'm really not one of them." "Not in my eyes Ariana, and I'm not interested in any other girls," said Glen. "And not when I look in yours, either." "Oh gawwdd," gulped Craig, feeling a chill. "You just made me feel like the most special girl in the world, but I'm also still thinking neither one of us is gay, and tomorrow I'll need to be that kid with the bad swing again and not what you see here now." "Well sure I like pretty girls, so I feel like I'm not gay either, but what's under Ariana's skirt doesn't matter to me. I'm comfortable with who I am, and I like her regardless of what her birth gender was," said Glen, standing tall. "Now no matter what you want to wear, I still want to take you out, and to me you're as special and beautiful a girl as I've ever laid eyes on. So if not today, then I'll ask some other time when you're ready, or when Ariana can come out, but Mrs. Pucciarelli, I hope you won't be upset but I'll certainly intend to ask again." "Well the two of us have quite a bit to talk about, don't we dear, but don't worry Glen, you seem like a gem and she obviously likes you, it's a yes," said his mother, softly smiling as she nodded. "I'll allow her to dress for the party and the formal, but we'll need to take this slow, please." "Thank you," said Glen relieved. "Of course! We can go at any pace you want, and I'll do anything you ask, Mrs. Pucciarelli." "Ok then! I'll be waiting in the car honey, and I told Mrs. Jones I'll be taking you home so you don't need to worry about the bus," said Craig's mother. "Now I'll give you two a minute, but please don't be too long." "Thank you, Mrs. Pucciarelli," said Glen, all ecstatic. "I promise I'll be the ultimate gentlemen." "You're welcome, and that part I'm not too concerned about, but as pretty as she looks, how could I be upset," said his mother, turning her back before talking with her back to them. "Just make it a quick kiss, because we've got to get back to the hospital, but who am I to deny her what I'm thinking might be her first kiss." "Is it?" asked Glen, swallowing hard. "Yeah," nodded Craig, speaking softly. "Well, I almost had mine in a movie recently, but I'm thinking this could be so much better," smiled Glen. "Me too almost, kinda?" smiled Craig, shrugging his shoulder and then walking up close to Glen, wrapping his wrist over his shoulder pads. "But I'm hoping this can be so much better, even if it's not exactly like I dreamed it would be?" "Really?" said Glen, looking into his eyes and putting his hands around his waist. "Then let's make it that way? How you dreamed it should be?" "Well that I'm thinking would not work out, because no chance are you fitting in this outfit, since I always dreamed about being a quarterback kissing the girl, but since that's not what's happening here... Then what the hell?" said Craig, leaning in as they kissed softly. It was tender and gentle, lasting maybe only fifteen seconds before Craig smirked and then pulled back as they looked at each other. "So obviously you just misunderstood it and didn't realize it was supposed to be the other way around," said Glen smiling. "Because I'm thinking that was a great first kiss, and for me as dreamy as it gets." "Yes it was, and maybe you're right! But I'm still thinking you can do better?" teased Craig, leaning back in and initiating a much deeper kiss. This kiss lasted so much longer, their tongues entered their mouths and they almost didn't want it to end. When finally it broke, they just embraced for a moment and something felt so right before they just held on, looking at each other. "Wow!" sighed Craig, looking around. "So much better, but maybe we better be more discrete, as aren't you not allowed to date cheerleaders?" "What are they going to do, kick the best player off the team?" replied Glen, kissing him again. "Definitely not?" giggled Craig. "And I'm not even sure if I'm even on the team, so if I am, the hell with it and if not all is good right?" "No, all is amazing and trust me, if you want to be on that team, they're not kicking you off. Glen said as they walked, holding hands. "I may never wash these lips again, and thanks for being my girlfriend." "Well it sounds crazy! Your girlfriend? Wow I guess I am, and it feels amazing, except...?" Craig was thinking. "I'm not exactly sure when we can go out again though, ok? I mean you heard my mom?" "Halloween is good enough for me, and I'm fine waiting for whenever the other times are," said Glen, stopping and kissing him again. "Text you later, and you better get to your mom." After their lips locked one last time, he relished his last bit of time as Ariana, knowing his conversations with his mother would be quite uncomfortable, and even doubting if he'd really be allowed out as her again on Halloween. He hurried to the car, seeing her sitting inside with the engine running and then hopped inside, buckling his seatbelt and waiting for the lecture. It was eerily quiet as she pulled from the parking lot not, saying a word with the radio off and then he knew he better talk as the silence was getting to him. "So I guess you're waiting for me to explain?" asked Craig, looking down. "Am I?" his mother said. "Not really?" "You're not?" said Craig surprised. "You mean about all this?" replied his mother. "No. I grilled Tara, and she told me everything?" "Really?" gulped Craig. "Everything?" "Well everything she knew," said his mother. "It's funny how cooperative girls can be when you grill them when they're scared. She folded like a cheap suit." "I feel terrible she was that scared," said Craig. "The accident must have been horrific." "It was, and I told you it was only a car," said his mother, reaching over and grabbing his hand. "Sure she was scared, she was a little banged up, but that's not what I meant. I meant she was scared that you were scared. That she put her little sister in a spot without her there to take care of her. In a spot that you might not be able to deal with alone." "Oh gwwwdddd! Mom, she's an amazing sister," sighed Craig. "And I'm sorry about putting you or her through any of this. It's all my fault, and I'll tell you everything else she didn't. Anything you want to know!" "Honey, I want to know everything, but I won't rush you. For now, let's just say I want to know anything you're willing to share, because I'm your mother and I love you," said his mother, rubbing his fingers. "But I've known for years." "You're kidding?" said Craig. "No sweetie. I'm not," sighed his mother. "In fact your father suspected it first when you were little, but both of us have known you've liked to dress up from pre-K." "But I wasn't dressing in any of my sister's clothes back then?" said Craig stunned. "I've only been doing it a few years." "You just don't remember it," said his mother. "I cried when I looked at your sister's phone and saw you as Dorothy. It brought back amazing memories from when your father was alive." "I miss him a lot," said Craig, almost tearing up "But why?" "When you were in kindergarten, you used to wear your sister's ruby red shoes everywhere. They were your favorite. I'd complain. He'd laugh and just let you," explained his mother. "By the next year you grew out of it, but every once and awhile, I found you in your sister's dress up costumes. We never made a big deal about it because even back then Halloween was your favorite holiday and one costume a year would never be enough, so by second grade it was over once you started playing little league." "I used to love him at my games," said Craig as a tear flowed down his cheek. "He's been gone three years mom and I still haven't gotten over him not being with us anymore." "None of us have, honey," said his mother, handing him a tissue. "And just blot, or you'll ruin your makeup." "Does it matter?" said Craig, sniffling and blotting. "I'm taking all of this off as soon as we get home, aren't I?" "To me you're beautiful with or without makeup, but I'm thinking seeing you looking like that will cheer up Tara since she pulled a lot of favors to hook you up with the uniform," said his mother. "So how about we keep it together just a little longer for her sake, plus Kristie's at the hospital too, and she'll be just as interested in seeing you like that." "I'm so embarrassed," said Craig, beet red. "Tara's bad enough with the teasing, but Kristie will never let me live this down. I'll be her little sister forever." "So that isn't what you want?" said his mother. "Because you just agreed to date a boy, dyed your hair even blonder, and racked up quite the bill for outfits on my credit cards." "Mom, that all just happened too fast," Craig explained. "Maybe?" nodded his mother. "Then you tell me exactly where we seem to be headed with all this, Miss Pucciarelli?" "Are you saying I should stay like this?" asked Craig, surprised. "No, I'm saying you have your whole life ahead of you and I love you," said his mother. "And you're thirteen! Emotional! Hormonal! And your sisters' love you too, so don't rush but be yourself without hiding shit from us. We're your support system, like it or not." "Ok," nodded Craig. "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry, but is this dress up or do you really want to be a girl? And do you really like boys and not girls?" quizzed his mother. "Or I'm thinking maybe you're trying some things for the first time, because you really don't know?" "Well?" Craig began to say, as confused as ever. "Uuummm?" "Honey, you don't need to answer that now, and let's go get your sister released," said his mother, pulling up the car at the hospital and hugging him. "I know you're exhausted and tomorrow's another day! And a school day of which I'll call you in sick until we can get you looking more like Craig for class again. Now come on." Out of the car they went and inside the hospital. He was of course the topic of discussion, as everything was out on the table with his sisters. They cried and laughed together in the end, fussing over his hair, outfit and needed every detail of his day. They had an hour of babbling until finally Tara was released, lucky to just be battered and bruised without broken bones, having dodged serious injuries, as out of the hospital they went as a family. They stopped quickly at the cheer headquarters so Craig could get his stuff and then headed home. Together they helped him out of his outfit and off with his makeup as he was happy to be go to his own bed. In the morning, his mother woke him bright and early, shaking him awake. "Rinse and shine," said his mother with her coffee. "I called you out from school and made an appointment at the nail salon to get off those nails, plus one with my colorist to see what she can do to get you back to normal. I'd said wear something of Tara's that's very basic like jeans and a simple top, because you'll be walking in girly but coming home not so much. Breakfast in fifteen minutes, sweetie." Craig wandered into the bathroom and then finally into Tara's room, asking her what he could wear. There would be no sneaking around or her dressing him, instead just a discussion as she handed him some clothes and then ran downstairs to scoff down a muffin. Fifteen minutes later, with his sisters at the table, his mother was getting anxious and then yelled up to him. "Sweetie, no need to fuss," yelled his mother. "Just get dressed, make a pony and come eat something. I have to get you to your appointments, pick up some things from my office in between, and we still have to drive Kristie back to college. Now come on." After she went back into the kitchen and sat down, she heard the bathroom open then him hurrying down the stairs. She was curious what he'd look like after dressing himself in his sister's clothes without any makeup, but then even what she expected was quite the surprise. "Morning," said Craig, walking in like it was nothing and sitting down at his place at the table. "Whhoohhh?" said Kristie with a smirk. "You were right, he is really cute in that and he does look a lot like I did?" "Just blonder, and without a fat ass," joked Tara as there was her brother in her uniform just as she had dressed him the first time in the car. Kristie laughed, giving her sister the finger and then their mother spun around, not expecting him dressed like that. "Oh boy," gulped their mother. "Honey, what are you telling me here?" "Nothing actually, mom," replied Craig, sliding his hands down his high pony. "Is this too wavy for a weekday? Should I have flat ironed it?" "Not what I'm talking about, honey," said his mother, thinking he didn't understand. "I'm saying wearing that you are looking like a girl who should be in school, so people will think you're cutting class, and I was hoping to draw less attention to you, not more?" "Well that wasn't my intention at all, mom," said Craig, taking a breath. "I thought a lot about this morning and really all night. So I was thinking while you went to your office, you could drop me off at school first if that's ok?" "Are you telling me you want to go to school as a girl now!" asked his mother, holding her chest. "Because I already called you in, and I'm dealing with all this, but that I'm not exactly prepared for?" "No, I decided I still want to go to school as a boy, but I made an appointment with my councilor to talk," said Craig, looking away. "I explained to her what's going on in my head, and she thought I should come in like this once everyone else is in class so there would be no stir, and then we could talk about the future for Ariana if there is one at all." "Oh," said his mother, sitting down. "So you're seeking out some help, then?" "Yes, mom," nodded Craig, stroking his high pony nervously. "Not that I'm against that, but I'm here for you honey, and so are your sisters," his mother said. "You know that right?" "My support system here is the best and amazing, but I need to know more about what's going on with me," said Craig, looking at her. "If you're asking me what I want, it's to still be a boy yet I still love being a girl too. It's really confusing." "I bet," said his mother lovingly. "I'm just worried about taking you there already like this, as kids in school if they saw, they could be vicious" "Well I know where to avoid kids, and I was thinking I could be a boy most of the time, but maybe still make cheer practice three days a week after school, plus the rest of the games," Craig said. "Maybe?" "Wow?" said his mother, really taken aback. "Are you asking or telling me, honey?" "Asking? And just so you know, I loved it?" said Craig meekly. "And I'm not even sure if that's even possible, but I know they have an open GLBT policy, so if I needed to speak with Mrs. Jones about that, then in time I would. If they'd even still want Ariana on the team?" "Why wouldn't they," replied his mother, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "But you really did do a lot of thinking then?" "Yes, and I'd still like to play baseball too," said Craig, taking it. "Lucas has been texting me, begging me to play and still wants to hang out with me." "Who's Lucas?" asked his mother, letting go and stepping back. "The other boy I was telling you about mom, for the hayride stuff," said Tara, flicking her wrist. "And she's not so into him. They already broke up. He's cute, but not as cute as Glen." "Broke up?" their mother asked, needing a second. "He's just a boy from my baseball, mom, and I'm not dating him or trying to date him or...." said Craig. "I mean I almost did, but I didn't and I'm thinking we can talk more about that later, as its complicated." "And the rest of this isn't?" giggled Kristie. "Well maybe, but this part is about baseball," laughed Craig momentarily. "Not that I don't know he still likes me, but that means he'll take good care of me in the dugout, and he's encouraging me to play as Ariana. Really I'm thinking I might, especially if things work out at cheer, because then I'd have to go right from baseball to cheer on the weekends." "So like with this boy you'll tell the whole team?" questioned Kristie. "And play as a girl?" "Well, thing is I found out the way I throw, and with long hair, my team doesn't, but all of the others think I'm a girl anyway," said Craig. "Will they all be cool with it? I don't know but the team is always short kids, so odds are they will. Plus mom taught me that when I started something, I better finish it. Right mom?" "I guess, and I'm almost not sure what I taught you anymore? And then what about Glen?" said his mother, wiping her brow. "You still plan on going out with him on Halloween, and to the formal?" "Yes, and some dates if you'll let me," said Craig with some confidence. "But I also want to ask out a girl in my class too. She's my best friend, and the only person, besides of course you guys, I've ever confided in. I think Glen will understand too, but there's a lot I need to know about things and myself, so I'd like to see what having a girlfriend is like for Craig too?" "Oh my gawwdddd," cried his mother as they were all in tears. "I think all that is amazing and scary and exciting! But I'm here for you baby, and maybe you are more mature than I thought you were." "Damn well better not be," Tara laughed. "I'm still dressing you up like a little princess and taking you trick or treating. You will not take that away from me after you almost killed me chasing the bus." "Do not even joke about that Tara, and like you'd give me a choice," laughed Craig, swirling around his pony. "What would Halloween be with you scaring the crap out of me and dressing me up?" "Exactly, little sister," smirked Tara. "Well obviously some things are going to change around here, and will take some getting used to, but all I care is about is that your happy, sweetie," said his mother, letting out a breath. "And since I imagine now we'll be keeping that hair nice all the time, then don't play with it like that at the table please." "Sorry," said Craig, stopping to play with his pony. "Lot of nerves mom." "I know, and did you want me to braid that for you like I always did your sister's, Ariana?" asked his mother, getting up and walking over and getting her brush from her pocketbook. "Really?" gasped Craig, getting a bit emotional now too. "I'd love that." "Me too," sighed his mother as she took a brush to his hair. "And I noticed that's the first time you called me Ariana, mom?" said Craig as she took a brush to his hair. "You don't have to and...." "And not really, it's not," interrupted his mother. "I know you know that was going to be your name if you were a girl, and honestly I'm beyond flattered you took my name as your middle name." "Well, I just thought it made for a beautiful name," replied Craig as she began weaving. "Ariana Lynne Pucciarelli. It's a hell of a lot prettier than Craig David." "Ya think," laughed his mother, tightening as she braided. "I used to call you that when you were in my belly, but who knew I ever would again, except maybe your father." "Oh you mean with the red ruby slippers," joked Craig. "Did he tease me, calling me that back then?" "No, and I guess since you've confessed everything, then I guess it's time I do as well," said their mother, finishing the braid. "You know that fancy red dress in my closet?" "The scoop neck one, or the lacey one?"asked Craig. "Neither, and I think you already know too much about fashion," laughed his mother, shaking her head. "Sorry?" Craig was turning red himself now. "The satin off the shoulder dress that Tara wore to that charity ball last year, and Kristie wore to her high school junior prom?" said their mother. "You know that one? It almost looks like the red dress from the movie Pretty Woman." "Yeah?" said Craig, knowing exactly the one. "I keep it preserved in plastic, but you've still had it on, haven't you?" Hi smother questioned him. "Well?" sighed Craig, even more embarrassed now. "Yeah... but I put it back in neatly and only had it on for a second." "It's ok. I can only imagine how hard that one would be to resist," said his mother. "It's the fanciest dress I own and very special to me, so I want you to have it now." "Have it? Not that I don't want it, but I'd never want to take anything special from you mom," smiled Craig. "But that dress I would love to wear out sometime too." "Well why shouldn't you? Stand up, honey?" said his mother, walking over and beginning to unbutton his blouse. "Let's get this off. Go run up quickly and put it on then hurry back down. I want to see you in it." "Right now?" Craig asked, unbuttoning his blouse all the way. "Yes, and hurry up! Five minutes in it and then I'll help you get re- dressed for school," said his mother, looking at her watch and then turning him, unzipping his skirt. "Just hurry up, take a pair of Tara's pumps and get right back down here pronto, missy." "I'll help her," said Tara as they raced up the stairs. In seconds she was helping him dress in it and then zipped him up carefully before he hurried back down in the fancy dress. It was bizarre to hurry into his kitchen in heels and a restrictive tight dress, as his mother looked ready to sob the second he stood awkwardly modeling it for her. She walked over inspecting him carefully, and turning him, wrapping his braid around in a circle before adding a pin to it, creating a quickie bun. She walked back to the table, just looking him up and down, needing a moment as she sat down and then took a sip of water. "You ok, mom?" Craig asked. "I know you said this was special and you loved it on my sisters, so maybe I shouldn't be in this?" "No you should sweetie, and I'm fine. It's gorgeous on you, and after everything you just said and put us all through... Well I needed to see you in it," said his mother, a bit choked up. "I'm sorry about all that," sighed Craig. "And thank you. Should I go change now?" "In a minute and don't be sorry," said his mother, wiping under her eyes and then pulling down the bun. "Seeing you in that touched my heart now that everyone in the family has worn it." "Wow, mine too," said Craig, touching his chest. "I'll obviously model anything you want, and that's a bit overwhelming. I could have never imagined you'd want to see me in something you've all been in for such special occasions, and just thinking about all that makes this dress feel even more special." "What's special about it is that was you're father's favorite," said their mother, undoing the braid. "And he may have never wanted you in it as part of the tradition, but the way you look in that I'm sure he's smiling down on us while he's seeing you in it right now." "I miss him so much, and I could only hope he would be," said Craig as all his hair was hanging loosely now. "You really think he wouldn't be mad at me?" "Well I doubt he'd be too pleased with this messy hairdo in his favorite dress?" joked his mother, brushing it off his face with her fingers. "I mean come on, where are all those pretty cheer curls now or at least the ringlets you had in my favorite pumpkin patch dress?" "Oh how embarrassing?" gulped Craig. "Why?" said his mother. "I loved it almost as much as this." "I'm glad I guess, but you know what I meant, mom?" said Craig, a bit sad as she was softly playing with his hair. "He'd be mad about this, wouldn't he?" "Oh stop! Mad at what?" smiled his mother, hugging him and then letting go, looking into his eyes. "For carrying on Pucciarelli tradition? Especially the red dress tradition?" "Who knew I'd ever be part of this type of tradition?" laughed Craig, extending out his hands as she stepped away. "I didn't even know we had such a tradition?" "Well you do now! And about the red dress, none of you knew," said their mother, walking to the table and sitting down. "And that tradition started when your father was also a little boy who liked pretty things. You see that dress and a part of my closet belonged to your father." "You're kidding?" sighed Tara, almost knocking over her coffee. "I'm not, and that dress was always his favorite," replied their mother, taking a breath. "I wore it on our tenth anniversary, and he wore it on our twentieth the year before he died." "You're saying dad was a cross dresser?" asked Kristie stunned. "Well, your father didn't believe in labeling, but technically yes," said their mother. "He was the finest, most caring man I've ever met, and it may sound odd but also in so many ways such a wonderful woman. Sure he'd be upset at first that his son was cursed with the same desires he had, but in the end all we can all hope for is that you honey will become half the person you father was, regardless of what outfit he was in." "Wow," gulped Craig as they were all in tears. "I don't know what to say, mom." "There's nothing else to say honey, except for you to be open and honest with me so I can help you. Now let me help you out of that so your counselor can help you as well," said his mother, unzipping the dress. "Thanks mom," nodded Craig as he stepped out of it. "I know I never would have known, but I would have loved to talk to him about all this stuff. About our curse?" "You still can. I'm sure he hears you and has been looking down on you during all this, but don't misunderstand honey," said his mother, hanging up the dress neatly on a hanger and hooking it to a high kitchen cabinet handle temporarily. "He called it a curse, but not in a really bad way. For him it was more of a craving or fascination. Is that how it is for you?" "I think?" thought Craig as she and she helped him off with the heels. "Well maybe not?.... But I'm not exactly sure yet?" "How could you be?" said Kristie. "You just started experiencing things?" "And just kissed your first boy as a girl?" interjected Tara. "Just that alone would send anyone's head spinning." "Can you even inherit stuff like this?" thought Craig. "These feelings?" "Well I don't know if you did or you didn't?" giggled their mother, slipping his arms into his blouse. "And there is no rush to understand any of it, honey. Time and your heart will lead you as you grow and mature. Your father and I talked a lot over the years about all this, but you are not him, so you'll still need to find out things for yourself." "That I do know," said Craig as she was buttoning it. "Good, but what I can tell you for sure was what seemed to curse him and you now, really for our relationship became a blessing," said their mother, buttoning the sleeves now. "We struggled at first, but I think without this side of him our marriage would have never made it. So without him being who he was, none of you would be here today, which is the ultimate blessing." "I would have never guessed," said Kristie as Craig stepped into his skirt. "He was an incredible dad, and did you always know mom?" "No, not until we after we got married," said their mother, helping him on with his shoes. "It was hard on both of us in the beginning, and back then more difficult to deal with, but we managed. When you love someone though girls, things always seem to have a way of working things out just like they will for my new daughter if that's really what she wants." "You really think they will, mom?" asked Craig nervously. "That part is up to you honey, but I think you'd seem to have your head on straight"replied his mother, taking a brush to Craig's hair. "Plus you know how I always tell you to be positive and keep your chin up, darling." "Yes, and I will," sighed Craig. "Good, and for what it's worth, I'm thinking you'd have made a wonderful little daddy's girl," joked his mother, cracking them up. "So I'm French braiding again, right?" "Chin up, and yes, because if he's looking down on me then I'm proud to be a little daddy's girl," sighed Craig, lifting his chin and smiling. "Do it just like you always did for my sisters before school, please?" "You mean like when they were little brats fighting me every morning," laughed his mother, brushing. "Kristie with her head full of knots or Tara who needed her bangs just perfect every day." "Well I witnessed it and secretly wished I could be part of it too," said Craig with a big grin on his face. "Really?" said his mother, gathering it in a high pony near the back of his head. "You wanted in on all the turmoil and drama of getting the brats ready every day." "Maybe?" Craig smiled as she was lopping the scrunchie. "So at least for today I finally get the chance." "Fine?" laughed his mother, pulling out the band. "Then keep your chin up and do not fight me for even a second young lady before you're late for school? How's that? Make you feel like you're one of them?" "Thanks," smirked Craig as she pulled at his hair a little behind his head. "Oooucchhh!" "Does sounds familiar," laughed Kristie as again she gathered the back. "Oh my gawwd!" giggled Tara as in went the band, making a smaller top pony. "It is like yesterday and she wanted to be little sister. Right, Ari?" "Yeah?" laughed Craig as his mother lifted the front, wetting it a bit. "This is kind of cool honestly?" "Is it? Not for me! You girls always stressed me out, but good or bad memories, here we are back again?" said their mother, shaking her head, brushing in front of his face now. "Plug in the flat iron Kristie, and hand my scissors from the drawer like the old days, Tara." "Scissors?" gulped Craig. "Mom what are you doing? I just got my hair trimmed?" "Exactly what you asked me to do, daddy's little girl," said his mother, lifting his face with the scissor in her right hand while pulling his hair in front between her index and middle fingers of her left hand. "Chin up, eyes closed and don't move." "Oh my gawwwdddd," gulped Craig, seeing the blade shear across the bridge of his nose. "Yup, that's how it felt sometimes," smirked Tara, making eye contact with him now that his vision was clear. "I did always find that stressful too, until I got to high school and grew them out." "Yeah stressful for me, because if you cut them too short it's not like you can fix them," said his mother, brushing and then repositioning her scissor. "Be still, sweetie." "I can't believe this just happened?" said Craig, closing his eyes as the little shearings were sliced away as she made them straight. "You mean this or all of it," said his mother, putting down her scissor, moving his face and checking her work. "Now be still until I get them straight, and you can gel them back for cheer or curl them right into the bump." "But not for trick or treating!" clapped Tara. "She will definitely pass for even younger now, especially if I do some even tighter perm like curls, and this opens up so many more cutsie things." "And your eye sight, missy," said his mother, brushing and trimming. "No more messiness in your face and be still I want to round the edges a little." "This is crazy! I can't believe I have bangs," said Craig as she made some precise trims. "You sure I can get them back when I need to?" "Easily, for boy stuff and cheer, but I'd leave them down for dance classes," said Tara as Craig popped open his eyes, glaring at her. "She's going to need to take as much dance as we can fit in, as she's got some catching up to do to be able to stick in cheer mom." "Yes, go online and book it, Tara," said their mother, returning to his pony now brushing it. "Since this is what she wants, then I want her to have the same experiences you girls had, and she's obviously way behind most girls." "Oh myyy gawwdd, yes," said Tara, typing on her phone. "I am so buying her some gorgeous little outfits for class and dressing her up taking her there! I am going to so freak out when she has her first recital?" "Tara, slow down," gulped Craig, as his mother began braiding his pony again. "You're going to freak out?" "Like you haven't practically begged me all weekend to freak out and fuss over you, Ariana?" said Tara, rolling her eyes. "I mean seriously, so should I run up and get the romper with her looking so cute now mom, or are we sticking with this eight grade silliness?" "It's not silly, and it's school. We'll see about that soon anyway after she meets with her counselor, and there's plenty of little sister time at home to teach her what you need to or play dress up," replied their mother. "She is going to look so darling on Halloween," said Tara. "Mandy said she'd be adorable with a Taylor Swift look and now that she has the bangs, maybe a bob would be adorable, mom?" "I was growing my hair out longer, not cutting it Tara," whined Craig. "You're the one that said that." "I know, but that was before I knew you'd be getting bangs," said Tara. "I want the little sister thing to last as long as it can, don't you Ari?" "Slow down Tara, but hand me a navy bow from the drawer, Kristie," said their mother, tying off the braid. "She loves bows from what I've seen, and I think I have some smaller ones in there that will still work for a girl her age." "Guess you're not dying her hair back then so fast then mom, and now she looks more like Tara when she was young," laughed Kristie, handing her mother a bow. "Well maybe not just yet, and really she looks like a combination of all of us," said his mother, winding in the bow. "We all had these bangs, so why should'nt she?" "Because I was going to spend some of the time as a boy, mom?" said Craig, a bit surprised, reaching up and touching his new bangs as she straightened the bow atop his braid. "Your father said that too before I cut some bangs on him before all of you were born, and that didn't stop him from doing anything," said his mother, pushing down his hand and then gliding the flat iron through his bangs, making them perfectly straight. "Now stand, honey." "Really? Nothing stopped him?" said Craig, astonished as she helped him on with his school blazer. "Even back then?" "Yes, even back then," smiled his mother, pushing the big round glasses on his face. "Now let's get you to school and you look beyond adorable, Ariana." "Oh gawwdddd, I'm so scared," gulped Craig, standing up and looking at his reflection in the toaster. "Maybe this wasn't the best idea? Adorable?" "Yes you do honey but remember Pucciarelli girls always do," smiled his mother, softly touching his back. "Red dresses, beautiful hair and always looking pretty. Regardless of what's under your skirt, it's a family tradition." "And so is being stuck with the nickname little sister, so forget whoever that girl is you were wanting to date and look at your phone buzzing over there," teased Tara. "Apparently that kiss yesterday went viral, and the whole world knows you two are an item." "Someone videoed that?" asked Craig mortified. "Look at you, mini Puch the Smooch," laughed Kristie, scrolling and watching. "The cheerleader making out with the hot quarterback! Who woulda' thunk' it, Ariana?" "No one but the original Puch the Smooch," said their mother, smacking her forehead before grabbing her car keys and reaching out her hand, taking Craig's. "Gone much too soon, but obviously his legacy lives on. Let's go Miss Ariana Lynne. The world and more boys than I'm ready to deal with, await you, princess." Out the door he went with his mother and then the second Kristie heard the car start, she turned to Tara. "I hope you two are right, because that was just evil, Tara," said Kristie with her back to Tara, pouring some coffee. "You mean the video?" smiled Tara. "That wasn't me, and Glen is really into her! That came from the cheer girls who were all over that?" "I'm sure. The kid is pretty, but not what I mean and you know it?" said Kristie, sitting down with her coffee. "Yeah yeah! I know," giggled Tara. "But it had to be done, and you're calling me the evil one?" "So that was all bullshit then just because you and mom both think he'll be better off as girl, don't you?" said Kristie, folding her arms. "I mean it's all you two talked about last night once the poor kid went to bed, and was it all really necessary?" "It was just a healthy discussion," smiled Tara. "And after last night, my lips are sealed on that topic, sis." "Those lips closed?" joked Kristie. "That's a first." "Like it matters?" said Tara, flicking her wrist. "He just needed the push, and it didn't take much, did it?" "You meant she needed the push," smiled Kristie. "And no, but the bangs were a bit much." "No, they're adorable," said Tara, playfully shoving her sister. "Better that than him sneaking around in our clothes. It was freaking me out, and I didn't start the kid dressing, but at least now he'll have at least some of his own stuff, and wait until you see him in some of the pretty dresses we just picked out?" "I bet. There's no denying he's adorable," said Kristie. "And you may not have started it, but I think you finished it and neither did dad, but that was a nice touch." "I didn't make up the dad stuff?" said Tara. "I just helped him be a girl like he wanted to be." "You think mom did?" said Kristie. "She hates doing boy stuff with him, and no shot could dad could have fit in that dress, plus mom told me she bought me that red dress when I was in seventh grade." "You sure? He was a twig at times. And come to think of it? She told me she bought me that dress too?" Thought Tara. "But like her fat ass would have fit in it, even years ago. It's a size zero." "She was really skinny a few years back Tara, and remember they both had big weight shifts?" said Kristie. "Now I'm not sure of anything?" "Me either?" Tara replied. "And maybe we're going too fast and he just likes trying on pretty clothes?" "Well even if he did like to just dress up?" said Kristie. "Cross dressing isn't heredity is it?" "You tell me? You're the college girl," laughed Tara. "I just know I love dressing up myself, so I guess if I was a boy, I'd be a cross dresser too?" "Well you did have that bad boyish haircut when you were young, and dressed like a tomboy," joked Kristie. "I really don't remember it, but mom did say I went through a tomboy stage but dad put a stop to it," said Tara. "I was little, and it's a blur." "Yeah, but that stopped after you had that..." said Kristie, before stopping and covering her mouth. "Had what?" asked Tara confused. "That serious operation when you were little?" replied Kristie, tapping her chin. "And what's your point? Mom said I had had lots of issues with my intestines and insides," said Tara. "You know I have to take all these pills for the rest of my life because of it?" "Well that I do, but come to think of it, after that you always wore dresses," smiled Kristie. "You're not saying?" gulped Tara horrified. "No, I'm not," said Kristie, tapping her sister's arm. "But maybe ask mom to see your birth certificate when she gets home." "Blllaahhhhhh." Tara raced to the sink and vomited repeatedly.