Jaylen Webber didn’t notice the slender pale boy enter his younger sister’s room even though he walked right in front of him. Jaylen’s attention remained on the two 19 year old boys sitting across from him and the schemes which they were discussing.
“Jesus, Henry. We’re not robbing a bank here.” Jaylen chopped at his open palm. “It’s barely a convenience store, that QuickStop is a shit hole. This is a simple job. In and out.”
“I think he’s scared.” Anton Lisle quipped in a French accent that was similar to his younger sister’s.
“I’m not scared! I just wanna make sure we have a good plan.” Henry O’Brien defended.
“You don’t gotta worry about a plan. You’re not the plan guy. You’re the driver. Leave the plans to me and Anton, ayte?”
“Yeah alright.” Henry said sheepishly.
“Okay then. We’re fucking set then. Let’s go get some fuckin moneyy-” Anton was hushed by Jaylen.
“Shut up man you hear that?” He listened intently as suddenly his younger sister burst from her room into the hallway. She looked a bit different but Jaylen couldn’t place why. “Derek? I thought you were at cheer practice.”
“I’m going there now. You seen my backpack?” He asked in a hurry, pulling up his pants.
“Nah.” Jaylen replied.
“Mkay.” Derek redirected his attention to Anton, who was smirking at her on the couch. She waved at him with a smug little smile. “Hi Anton.”
“Bonjour chérie.” Anton blew him a kiss, which he pretended to bat away with his hand.
“Mmmhmm.” Derek replied, making his exit with an extra sway in his slender boyish hips.
Anton and Henry both couldn’t help but stare at his ass as he walked away. Technically, Derek’s ass was currently quite flat and unimpressive, but thanks to the perception effects on the spell nobody seemed to care- except for Jaylen who threw an empty beer can at them each.
“What I tell you fucks about staring at my sister’s ass?”
—
The actual ass in question was currently swaying down the street on the other end of town, headed towards Callahan Murphy’s house. Officer Murphy was currently at the precinct, stressing about where Lt. Slade might be. Meanwhile, Erika Webber was shedding her cheerleader uniform and slipping into one of Callahan’s undershirts. She then put on one of his button-downs and donned his spare police jacket. She struggled greatly with the slacks, spending a solid minute hopping and shimmying to squeeze her plump posterior into the man’s pants, but she finally got it and after putting on a black belt she snapped out of her trance.
“And why did I think she would be here? Shit. I’ve gotta find my partner.” She scratched her smooth chin as if there were stubble and radioed for Officer Maybourn to come pick her up. “Jesus where are you Sarah?”
