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Chapter Seven
All Sam could do was sit there as Sophie took his hand and started working on his nails. Similar to when she got in his personal space to do his hair and make-up, the experience was mostly awkward due to them not having a particularly close or touchy relationship. Now, she casually held his hand and carefully painted one nail at a time. He was still sitting there in nothing but panties and a bra, which was a continual source of discomfort.
“Not so bad, right?” she asked, upon finishing his left hand. Leaning forward, she gently blew on his fingers for a few seconds, then instructed him to stay still while they dried.
She repeated the process with his other hand, casually mentioning how it’s always the worst when you smudge nail polish and have to start over. While that was true, it was obvious she meant it as a warning in terms of what would happen if he messed up
Once the right hand was done, she held it for a few extra seconds as she examined her work. “Looks good, Samantha,” she said, blowing on the fresh polish like before, “Why don’t you sit here and be a good little girl for a minute? I’m going to touch up my own hair and make-up in the bathroom. I would have done it earlier, but someone spent forever in there.”
It wasn’t as if Sam could do anything else. He had no idea how long it took nail polish to dry, plus Sophie was the only one who could help him convincingly pass as a girl. So he just sat at the guest room desk, occasionally grimacing at the sound of laughter coming from the floor below. Embarrassing as it was letting his sister treat him like this, he still wasn’t ready to face a room full of girls he had never met. He still wasn’t sure this would actually work. Surely someone would notice that he was actually a guy, right?
“Miss me?” Sophie announced her return with a tease that shifted into a point about his false age, “So, you’re twelve. I’m assuming you’re going to play it like you’re a shy tween who hides in the corner and reads her book, or whatever?”
Probably. Mostly since talking in the higher tone still felt unnatural, and one slip up would reveal his actual gender. Unfortunately, he didn’t have some preteen novel to use as a prop. Nor did he know what girls read at that age compared to the occasional book he got into back then.
She held up a simple pink sundress. “This is perfect for you, sis. I’m pretty sure I had a dress just like this when I was your age.”
Great. As usual, Sam couldn’t argue. Everything that Sophie found amusing about the disguise he needed was also what would make it as believable as possible. And he had already been warned that there would be a dress in his near future.
Reluctantly following Sophie’s instructions, he stood up and took the girly outfit from here, taking the tiniest bit of solace in the fact that it would cover up the panties/bra combo after his extended time half dressed.
The sundress was rather simple in design. All Sam had to do was pull it over his head like a t-shirt; once his arms were through the thin straps, gravity did the rest of the work. The training bra did its magic once there was a layer over the undergarment, making it look like he had the slightest bit of swell up there. The dress did a perfect job of completing the look Sophie had set him up to have. His height and slender frame made him look more feminine and youthful now that his body was hairless, and the make-up softened any remaining masculine features. It was remarkably convincing, unless someone looked really carefully.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Sophie smirked. She took Sam’s hand and walked him over to the full length mirror, “What do you think?”
This wasn’t the first time he had seen his reflection after being all dolled up. Before, however, he had been wearing the flower girl dress; that had been more fancy and frilly, and felt more like a costume for a boy who had no experience with feminine clothes. This was different. Between the simple dress and the make-over Sophie had given him, Sam essentially looked like a middle school girl who was dressing up a little bit for whatever reason. It was eerily convincing, even for the guy who saw himself daily and knew his actual gender.
He wasn’t given much time to process the transformation. “Ready, Samantha?” Sophie asked. Still gripping his hand, she led him from the bedroom and towards the stairs. “Remember, stick to the story. You’re starting middle school this fall. And how old are you?”
Did they really have to go through all that again? Sam was more than capable of remembering that he was ‘twelve,’ as well as the name of the school he had attended when he was in his early teenage years. The only reason he played along was for the sake of practicing his female voice one last time before needing to use it on people who didn’t actually know him. “I’m twelve years old,” he said.
“Hope you can pull it off,” Sophie said, “There’s no going back now!” She led them back down to the main floor, where there were even more girls gathered than before.
A good five or six bridesmaids in the living room, as well as a handful in the kitchen with Fiona and Michelle. One noticed them right away, and Sophie gave a small wave. Sam blushed and glanced away, unintentionally selling the story that he was a rather introverted girl compared to his sisters. Well, not sisters. He still had no idea how he was supposed to be related to them, when there would be cousins and other family members at the wedding who would need an explanation for some niece or cousin they didn’t know.
“Hey!” A brunette near the edge of the kitchen greeted them, “You must be Sophie.”
“What gave it away?” Sophie teased. She was basically a teenage Fiona, with how similar their hair and skin tone were.
“I’m Mary,” she said, “I’m guessing this is Mia?” Apparently not everyone had heard about the original flower girl not being able to make it.
“Samantha, actually,” Sophie said, “She’s my step-sister. And the flower girl for this weekend.”
Sam tensed up. What was Sophie doing?! Of all the things he had been worried about, he hadn’t expected to deal with such a blatant lie. While he hadn’t actually met their extended family, either Fiona or Michelle would have mentioned a step-brother somewhere along the way.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Samantha,” Mary said, “I love your dress.”
She must have been one of the bridesmaids that didn’t know about Fiona’s step-sibling. A lucky break for the time being, though that luck would hardly last with so many of Fiona’s closest friends and family gathered.
Sophie nudged him. “She just complimented your dress, Sammie. Be polite.”
There was no time to get lost in the what-ifs. Sophie’s cue was enough to break him out of his thoughts, at which point he blushed and quietly cleared his throat. “ . . . Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” Mary smiled, then turned to Sophie, “Are you allowed to drink? I can grab you something.”
“Hmm, I can have a glass of wine with family. Or two glasses, if I’m sneaky.”
Mary chuckled. “Sounds about right. Trust me, I’ve been there. Just don’t go overboard, okay?”
“Of course not. This is Fiona’s big weekend,” Sophie said, “Glass of white, please!”
As soon as Mary turned towards the kitchen island to grab the bottle, Sam tugged on Sophie’s hand. He needed to talk to her, but he couldn’t use his real voice when they were in a more public area. Even talking like a girl didn’t totally work, as he also didn’t want anyone to overhear. They really should have discussed the details before leaving the privacy of the bedroom. However, he had been too flustered by the finished product of Sophie’s makeover of him.
Ignoring his pull, Sophie greeted one of the other bridesmaids. “Hey, Eliza! Have you met my little sister?”
The second introduction didn’t go quite as smoothly. “I thought you had a brother?” she asked.
“Oh. Funny story,” Sophie said, “Someone else misheard that, too. Until recently, Samantha used to be a bit of a tomboy. You know, short hair, liked to run around with the boys, and all that. I think someone heard ‘boy’ when Fiona was talking about her, and a few people got the wrong idea. Thankfully, Sammie finally outgrew that whole phase! Isn’t that right, Sammie?”
All Sam could do was nod. He was focusing most of his efforts on keeping a straight face. This wasn’t what he and Sophie had talked about! Even if her little story worked on a few bridesmaids, someone would have heard the specifics about him being a guy heading to college soon, rather than a girl starting middle school in the fall.
“Well, nothing wrong with tomboy life,” Eliza said, “I have a couple friends who rock short hair and reject the whole feminine fashion thing. They’re probably saving a fortune on shopping and haircuts!”
“True,” Sophie laughed along with her, “Well, Samantha let one of her friends play dress-up with her and ended up liking pink more than she thought she would. And now she wants to at least try long hair again. Worst case, she can just chop it off if it’s a pain.”
“Makes sense.” Eliza gave Sam a smile. “It never hurts to try a new style. And, for what it’s worth, pink is a great color on blondes.”
“That’s what I was telling her,” Sophie said, “We may be step-sisters, but we look enough alike that I can give her advice on stuff like that. Oh, thank you!” She took the fresh glass of wine from Mary, “Something you can look forward to, Sammie. Mom let me have my first glass when I was fifteen.”
“Lucky you,” Mary sighed, “My parents were always so weird about alcohol. How old are you, Samantha? Or do you prefer Sammie?”
Sophie jumped in, making sure he was given the most feminine option. “She prefers Samantha. ‘Sammie’ is more of a family thing. Oops, sorry. Mary was talking to you, sis. Go ahead!”
Sam was still reeling from the false narrative Sophie was casually spinning to the bridesmaids. This was obviously what Sophie had been planning upstairs, with all the ‘little sister’ references. Had Michelle and Fiona agreed to this? He hadn’t seen them since trying on the flower girl dress, but Sophie could have talked to them when he was in the shower.
With the two older girls now looking at him, he lightly flushed and prayed that his girl voice would be believable. “Twelve. Umm, I’m twelve years old.” He still wasn’t sure which part was more more humiliating–that he could pass as a girl, or that he could pass as a tween. Neither were ideal for a young adult guy who was already self conscious about his size.
“I remember those years,” Eliza said, “Good times. I wasn’t awkward or anything!”
“Uh huh. Which phase should we talk about first?” Mary smirked.
“Oh, you two knew each other back then?” Sophie asked.
The conversation evolved in the way it normally did when it came to age differences. Though Sophie was still in high school, she could still connect with girls Fiona’s age that had recently graduated college. Meanwhile, Sam awkwardly stood in the circle they had created, only contributing when he was prompted by someone else. Not that he minded. His tween girl voice was far from natural, when he had only had a short amount of time to practice it. He still didn’t know why he was downstairs in the first place. To him, it made way more sense to hide away in his room and play video games until the wedding. That way, he could minimize interactions that could blow his cover, and avoid the embarrassment of walking around in a dress when he was actually a boy.
Now that he was the bride’s ‘little sister,’ however, being antisocial on her big weekend wouldn’t be a good look. Instead, he was stuck being the odd girl out; everyone but himself and Sophie were young adults, many of whom had already met.
After what felt like forever, Mary and Eliza roamed off to catch up with some of the other bridesmaids. Not wanting Sophie to take the lead and drag him into yet another situation where he was perceived as her sister, he made a beeline for Michelle. His step-mother was preparing an appetizer on the other side of the kitchen, which gave him a window to talk to her without needing to deal with separating her from a conversation of her own.
Lowering his voice to a whisper, Sam asked, “Can we talk in private?”
Michelle looked between him and Sophie, who had followed him over. “Sure. As long as we make it quick. I don’t want Fiona or her friends feeling obligated to take care of the kitchen.” She led them to an office just down the hall, closing the door just behind them for good measure.
Sophie jumped in right away. “I told Sammie that she shouldn’t talk like a boy at all this weekend. Her girl voice is still a little iffy; she needs all the practice she can get.”
“That’s a good idea,” Michelle nodded, “Same with her pronouns. So, is there a problem? You look the part, Samantha. I doubt anyone’s going to be able to tell that you’re not actually Mia’s age.”
Sam parted his lips, this close to stating the problem in his own voice. While there was some logic behind Sophie’s insistence about talking like a twelve year old girl, he wouldn’t be taken nearly as seriously when sounding like that. At the same time, rebelling against something their mother had just affirmed would probably make her more inclined to take Sophie’s side. Huffing in frustration, he forced out the immature/girly tone. “Sophie told some girls that I’m her sister.”
His step-mother seemed a little surprised, unless she was more caught off guard by the voice by anything else. Unlike Sophie, she hadn’t heard Sam talk like that before. It was probably both, as she turned to Sophie and said, “We were going to have him be a cousin.”
“Going to have her be a cousin,” Sophie said, “But two of the bridesmaids are cousins. We don’t want anyone asking questions, right? No one in the wedding party has met Samantha before. If we say she’s our little sister, we can always just tell them the truth later. It won’t be as embarrassing after the fact, right?”
“But some of them know that Fiona has a step-brother,” Michelle pointed out.
Exactly. That was what Sam had said. And why he had gotten their mother involved.
“Fiona doesn’t talk about Samantha that much,” Sophie said, then launched into the same explanation she gave the two bridesmaids. Rather than a step-brother who joined their family, I was simply a girl who was a bit of a tomboy. And rather than being between Sophie and Fiona in age, I was their younger sibling.
“That’s quite the stretch,” Michelle said, “But Eliza believed that?”
“Mm hmm,” Sophie nodded, “Besides, I called Sammie my little sister like fifty times upstairs. She already had her chance to say something about it.”
“That’s not-” Sam started to say, only to get cut off.
“Sam,” Michelle curtly said, “Sophie is right about your voice. Consistency is going to be key when you’re not used to talking like that. Now, what were you saying?”
At least she was still giving him a chance to defend himself. In Sam’s experience, Michelle was mostly impartial, but had a habit of siding with the girls. Potentially because of their relationship, or just the fact that Sophie in particular could be a bit manipulative. “I told her that didn’t make sense . . .” he said, not articulating their time upstairs very well when sounding so awkward. “What happens the next time there’s a wedding, or whatever?”
“By the time that happens, it won’t be a big deal,” Sophie shrugged, “We tell them the truth, and it’s just a funny story. Who cares if you pretended to be a little girl? You did it to help Fiona. That’s all that matters.”
“Enough,” Michelle held up her hand. Pausing to think for a moment, she said, “Sophie, that wasn’t the deal. You should have asked me about something like that before saying anything to the bridesmaids. However . . . I think it would only be more confusing if you told some of the girls one thing, then started telling the others a different story.”
Sophie’s eyes briefly lit up at the implication that they were going to stick with her idea about Sam being her younger sister; she managed to shift it into a more calm expression before Michelle noticed. “Right,” she nodded, “Sorry, Sammie. I shouldn’t have made that up without checking with Mom and Fiona first.”
He didn’t care about her apology. The only thing he cared about was not being teased about something like this forever by their extended family, as well as Fiona’s friends whenever he saw them.
Unfortunately, the decision was being taken out of his hands. Before he could get another word out, Michelle affirmed, “Samantha, you’re going to be Fiona’s step-sister for the weekend.”
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