“Just a second Zoe!” Jon squeaked, his reflection displaying an expression of utter shame at being caught while inspecting his new curves. He did his best to hide them, grabbing a lilac robe hanging off the back of the door, tossing it on and sending a chill down his spine as it's silky material brushed against his pointed nipples.
Zoe moaned, “took you long enough,” as she rushed past him, nearly slamming the door. “Ugh, Jon, did you really leave your clothes in here? Your the mom, I didn't think I'd have to remind you to put laundry in the hamper. Wait... You were naked in here weren't you?! Ohmygawd, you perv! I bet you couldn't wait to get all naked and play with your vajayjay! Gross!”
“Zoe! That's hardly appropriate!” Jon burned red with shame since it sure probably looked that way to Zoe. “And no, I was not playing with myself. For your information, I was just taking everything in, okay?” he plead through the door.
“You're right. I guess I can't blame a boy who's never touched a boob for wanting to give those massive udders of yours a squeeze and a jiggle.”
“Zoe, again! Please! It's not like that!” Jon cringed at the word udders, feeling of Sandra's insecurities about being compared to a cow. “I don't know what's gotten into you! Can you please stop? I know you've probably had a rough day, but it wasn't like mine wasn't all peaches and cream either.”
He heard the toilet flush and Zoe creaked the door open, causing Jon to let out a slight gasp. It was mostly the same old Zoe but with dirty blonde hair and a bit curvier figure, but the layers of eye shadow, lip-gloss, glitter, and blush smattering her face, presented an almost completely different person. “Rough? It was a nightmare! Sarah and her crew got to me, wanting to try some different styles before the game Friday and they did this to me! Happy?!”
The long eyelashes, the ever sparkling flashes on her cheeks and eyelids, and all the pink was just too much for Jon as he burst out into a fit of giggles seeing Zoe so girled up. He couldn't contain himself.
“Jon, stop it! You don't think I've been humiliated enough to day?” she stamped her foot, the old, angsty Zoe still showing flashes through her cheer-tastic exterior.
“I'm sorry,” Jon gasped, panting for breath, “I can't help it. You're just so sparkly. Did you catch the unicorn's name that farted on you or did it just gas you with glitter and go?”
This cracked her stern demeanor, causing Zoe to shine a smile and laugh a bit in the way only her brother could make her. “Yeah, I guess I do. I don't know what Sarah was going for, but can't say I'm a fan of the stripper Tinkerbell look!”
The pair laughed together at this silliness, deeply and for a while, like brother and sister, like mother and daughter, shedding all the stress from their upturned lives, at least for a moment. “Alright Zoe,” wiping a tear from his eye, “why don't you go get washed up and clean off that fairy face so I can take you seriously and then we can talk about our days.”
Jon was seated on the couch after changing from the robe into something much less sensual than the robe which hugged his curves, flaunted his breasts, and only left maybe two inches of lacy trim to hang past his crotch, instead opting for something more sensible. Yes, his pajama pants were purple and had butterflies on it and yes they did little to contain his gigantic mom tushy, an impossible task for any garment, but those combined with a tank top at least felt more like normal nightwear than the troves of nightgowns that Sandra seemed to prefer. Er, as normal as his soft, wiggly body would allow.
He was taking in the sights of their new living room and didn't have to dwell on the 'Live, Laugh, Love' stencil on the wall or stacks of Good Housekeeping magazines on the coffee table when Zoe returned with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, in a skimpy pair of pink running shorts, and a spaghetti strap halter top which showed off her unblemished, youthful midriff.
“Uhhh, Zoe,” Jon stammered, having never seen his sister wear so little, “are you sure you don't want to put on anything else? You're kinda showing a lot. I'm not sure I'm comfortable seeing my sister's boobies. Can't you put on a bra or something?”
“Oh come on Jon, you're one to talk. Your chi-chis are basically bursting through your top. And there's nothing I have that you couldn't see on yourself, after all it's just us gi-”
“Don't say it. I know what you're going to say, but don't say it. I've had my fill of 'just us ladies' moments for one day, I don't need you doing it too.”
“Fine. So I'm guessing your day at work was-”
“An absolute nightmare, yes.”
Jon then went on to explain his day of mincing around on heels, folding clothes, sorting clothes, picking out clothes, and legions of women he saw in various states of undress throughout the day, none of them paying him any mind, never once thinking he was an outsider. He went on, talking about how easy all of it was if he just relaxed a little and let his instincts take over, like there was a little Sandra in his head, whispering her approval or disapproval at all his actions.
And then there was Karyn, the event that made all the other nuisances of running a department store floor seem so trivial in comparison. He went on and told Zoe everything he could remember, feeling this weird energy from Karyn, how she almost seemed to see something in him that no one noticed, and that moment of seeing her topless that he dreamt about for so long being just a blank memory full of static. He could recall her bra size, the colors and garments he picked out for her, but not the moment itself. Like Sandra had stepped in to take over to keep his guy brain from feeling too great a disconnect, to make it easier for him to go about his day. Jon flooded Zoe with all his concerns about that wish and all it's implications. Who exactly was it making life easier for, Jon or Sandra?
Zoe's story wasn't too different from his own. She was actually having fun hanging with Sarah and her friends, enjoying the attention and simplicity that came with it. Sarah could actually be quite funny and nice, who knew! She could deal without all the teasing about boys though, making a mention of how Sarah brought up over and over again Moose's little brother Mitch's crush on her, which would send Zoe blushing. But as her tale continued to bumbling through cheer practice, finding the same phenomena of 'knowing' what to do if she stopped hyper-focusing, there came a different disjointing event.
Athena.
During a water break, Athena and some of Zoe's other friends were milling about the bleachers. Sarah caught her staring at them and the entire squad started giggling and hurling pointed insults at them, rubbing their lowly social status in their faces when she snapped. She was about to punch Tiffany in her mouth for calling her best friend a 'dyke' when cheer Zoe took over and joined the bullying, saying things she'd never imagine coming out of her mouth, leaving the present Zoe in tears at the horror of what she did.
Seeing Zoe so despaired had Jon feeling as if his heart had been put in a vice, feeling every bit of pain she did. Jon scooted over on the couch, pulling her into a big hug, letting Zoe's head rest on his bosom. “Oh honey! Sh-sh-sh. It's okay. You can cry. It's not your fault. It's not. It's this crazy wish's doing. You did the right thing, I'm so proud of you for trying to stand up for your friend.”
“But if I didn't make any of these stupid wishes in the first place, none of this wouldn't of happened! Athena wouldn't have run away crying and be posting cryptic poetry on Insta if I just kept my dumb mouth shut!”
“Zoe, breathe,” Jon comforted her in his most soothing voice, “everything's going to be okay. There's no way you could've guessed any of this would have happened. Okay? If anyone's to blame, it's Sarah, and you can bet I'm going to have some words with her. If I gotta be the school's 'cheer-mom' or whatever, I might as well put that authority to good use. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” Zoe sniffled, finally calming down while still clinging to Jon's soft embrace. “You know Jon, you're pretty good at this whole mom thing.”
He beamed at the compliment, changing course and setting his heart aflutter. “Just don't get used to it, okay?”
It was a little while later and Jon was sitting at Sandra's vanity, looking through his glasses at the jewelry box that contained the stone. Yes, glasses, another wonderful curse of maturity that that mysterious rock had bestowed on him, finding out he needed them after seeing their case and realizing his eyes were feeling so itchy and irritated because he had been wearing contacts all day.
He was too exhausted to lament another aspect of mid-thirties frumpiness he possessed, instead focusing on how much damage was caused by only a few loose lipped wishes. The physical changes were obvious and overwhelming on their own, but the far scarier impact was much more subtle. How much did those wishes alter their mindsets and how would it continue? He didn't want to bring it up, but Jon noticed a stark difference in just the way Zoe told her story, with flowy hand gestures and flowery language, always sure to include exactly what everyone was wearing and her opinion on their outfits; a far cry from the sulky, emo Zoe who's wardrobe consisted only of black and slightly darker black.
It was like her moment at practice left her with a bubbly touch of 'cheer Zoe' that wasn't there earlier today. Jon could only wonder what imprints Sandra had left on him. There were a few things he'd notice himself, word choice and speech patterns especially, but he could only wonder what other idiosyncrasies he'd been blind to that Zoe maybe picked up on. Maybe, in the morning, they could keep a record, a journal of sorts to document every one of their changes from an insider and outsider's perspective. It had only been one day, a long one, but there was still six to go before this terrible dream would come to an end and every bit of information would be crucial to reversing those wishes.
“Mom, I mean, Jon,” Zoe whispered, still startling Jon who snapped the jewelry box closed. “Do you care if I sleep in here, with you, tonight? My room is just too pink and all 'my' stuffed animals are giving me the creeps.”
“Fine. But no hogging the covers. If I wake up shivering because you've made yourself a blanket cocoon, it's back to your room missy.”
“That's nothing compared to your snoring. Let's hope that's one thing you didn't keep from Jon.”
As they lay in bed and Zoe quickly drifted off to sleep, Jon was content. After all the insanity of the day, knowing Zoe was safe and healthy and close by, filled him with peace. As she slept like an angel, Jon felt reassured in his decision not to tell Zoe what he saw and worry her further.
As if the day wasn't filled with enough puzzles, Jon had another question to deal with. Why was the stone now blue? But that would have to wait for the morning.
