Trading D’s for Dresses

"Mom’s going to kill you for this,” Katie teased, holding up the crumpled report card she had just snatched from Jason’s trembling hands. She studied the grades with mock seriousness, tapping her chin as though deep in thought. "Didn’t she specifically say your gaming console was going bye-bye if you didn’t improve?"

Jason fidgeted, trying to snatch it back. "Okay, okay, just… don’t tell her, Katie. Please! I’ll do anything!"

Her lips curled into a sly grin as she leaned against her bedroom doorframe, clearly savoring the power shift. "Anything?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Yeah, yeah, anything. Just don’t rat me out," he pleaded, already regretting the words spilling out of his mouth.

Katie’s smirk widened as an idea formed. "Fine. I’ll keep it a secret… if you let me dress you up."

Jason froze, his face twisting in disbelief. "What?! No way!"

She shrugged and turned to leave. "Alright then, I guess Mom can find out you’ve been forging her signature. Oh, and good luck explaining why you’re failing gym of all things." She laughed, spinning the report card dramatically between her fingers.

Jason groaned, defeat washing over him like a tidal wave. "Fine. But don’t go crazy, okay?"

"Oh, sweetie," Katie said with a giggle, grabbing his wrist and dragging him into her room. "You don’t get to set the rules anymore."

The transformation started immediately. Katie shoved him into the bathroom with a pink razor and shaving cream, hands on her hips as she barked, "Arms, legs, everything."

Jason froze, staring at the razor in horror. "Are you kidding me?! People are definitely going to notice if my legs are shaved!"

Katie rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop whining. Just wear pants for a few weeks, and it’ll grow back. No one’s going to notice unless you’re planning on rocking shorts in January."

Jason opened his mouth to argue, but her smirk—and the report card still clutched in her hand—silenced him. With a groan, he snatched the razor and disappeared into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged, his skin embarrassingly smooth and pink.

"Much better!" Katie chirped, pulling him into her vanity chair. She quickly applied a layer of foundation, adding a rosy blush to his cheeks and a shimmering pink eyeshadow to his lids. “Pucker up!” she ordered, waving a glossy lip wand at him.

"You’re enjoying this way too much," he grumbled.

"And you’re lucky I’m not filming this," she shot back, swiping the gloss over his lips.

Next came the nails—long, square-tipped press-ons painted in a bubblegum pink that matched her walls. "You’re not even trying to make this subtle!" Jason whined, squirming as she glued them down.

"Subtle? Oh, honey, that’s not the point," Katie replied with a wicked grin. She pulled his hair back into a half-up, half-down style, securing it with an oversized white bow.

Finally, it was time for the pièce de résistance. From her closet, she retrieved the most over-the-top outfit she could find: a pink ruffled skirt that barely reached mid-thigh and a satin corset top tied snugly with ribbons. The moment Jason saw it, his face turned beet red.

"Why is this thing so tight?! I can’t breathe!" he complained, squirming as she yanked the ribbons tighter.

Katie smirked, giving them one last tug. "Relax, drama queen. It’s supposed to fit like that."

She stepped back, admiring her work before holding up a pair of pink patent platform pumps. "Now, into these. Let’s see if you can walk the walk."

Jason stumbled several times as she forced him to practice walking in the heels, her laughter echoing around the room. "Chin up! Shoulders back! You’ve got to sell it, Jessica!"

"Jessica?!"

"Well, you don’t look like a Jason anymore," she teased, snapping a picture before he could protest.

That’s when they heard the car pull into the driveway.

Jason darted to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly. His heart sank as he spotted their mom’s car pulling in early. "She’s home! What do I do?!"

Katie leaned back against her vanity, arms crossed and a smug grin spreading across her face. "Oh, perfect timing! Think she’ll recognize her daughter right away, or should I introduce you properly?"