Chapter 13 - Getting Saucy

The Boy Who Would Be Prom Queen by Emily


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Zoey dropped Lance off at home. He walked into the house, into his room and crashed onto his bed. All he wanted from this afternoon was to play Game Boy. Instead he spent it at a beach in a bikini playing frisbee.


Granted, he had to admit he had fun. There was something satisfying about the girls and guys checking him out. He had never considered that his body was attractive. He didn’t work out, he didn’t maintain it, but he was blessed with an excellent metabolism that he inherited from his mom. She too was rail-thin and could eat anything without gaining any weight. 


He knew he only had about half an hour before Zoey would return with Mack to do his makeup so he quickly hopped into the shower.  While in the shower, he cleaned off the sand.  He looked down and saw his new tan line.  He traced the bikini line across his chest and started to fantasize about being a hot girl.  He wondered what the others at the beach saw.  Did they see a boy or a girl?  The thought of it excited him and he was eager to see what Mack had in store for him.


He turned off the shower, toweled off, and returned to his room to put on his boy clothes before the girls came over.


There was a knock at his door and Lance quickly put a T-shirt on to hide his new tan lines.  “Come in.”


 Lance’s dad came into the room. “Hey sport, how was the beach?”


“It was good,” Lance replied. “Made some new friends. Played some frisbee.”


“I’m so proud of you,” he proclaimed. “I’m just sorry I haven't been around much lately. Work has been killing me.”


“It’s OK, Dad. I haven't been around much either."


“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Zoey.”


“Yeah.”


“She seems like a nice girl.”


Lance nodded, knowing that while Zoey was certainly nice and slowly becoming a friend, he remembered the original reason why Zoey was hanging around with him.


“Hey - I’m making some pasta sauce. Let’s spend an evening together. Dad and son.”


Lance panicked. He had somewhere to be. He couldn’t spend tonight here. “Dad, it’s Saturday night.”


Dad laughed. “Do you have plans? Something with Zoey?” Dad hoped that would be the case.


Lance was at a loss for words. He couldn’t tell him the truth. That he did have a date. That he was going to a party. That the date was with a guy. And he was technically the girl.


Dad’s optimistic expression turned to one of disappointment. “Don’t tell me you have a hot date in the AOL chat rooms.”


“Yes.” That was a better excuse than the truth.


“Lance, we’ve talked about meeting strangers online. That girl you’re talking to could be a guy. Besides, you have a real flesh-and-blood girlfriend. Take Zoey to a movie or something.”


Lance saw an opening to tell the partial truth. “How about a party?”


Dad gave him a disapproving look. “Lance, you know you and your sister are not allowed to go to underaged parties.”


“I know. I was just thinking hypothetically,” Lance added.  “There goes that idea,” he thought.


“OK, well I need to get back to the kitchen. You should invite Zoey over.”


Dad left Lance’s room and Lance jumped off the bed and retrieved the portable phone, quickly dialing Zoey’s number.


Zoey answered, “Lance, we were about to head to your house. What’s up?”


“Zoey, I need help.”


“What’s wrong?”


“My dad is cooking dinner. He’s expecting me to stay home tonight. I can’t do that. You’ll be here to do my makeup. I have that date, then Peggy’s party. Christopher is actually coming over to pick me up soon.”


“Can’t you just tell him you’re going out with friends? Or with me?”


“I could, but that doesn’t stop Christopher from coming to pick me up. And my dad would just invite you to dinner too.”


“Really? What’s he making?”


“Zoey, I'm serious. What am I going to do? Should I just call Christopher?”


“And tell him what? You don’t have a car. Where will you get changed? We don’t have time for me to pick you up, bring you to my house and then send you to Christopher anymore. We should’ve just planned it where you stayed here the entire afternoon. You need to get your dad out of the house.”


“How? He’s home for the evening.”


“Can you make him have to run to the store for dinner instead?”


“He’s already cooking dinner!”


Dad’s voice emanated from down the hall. “Lance.”


“Shit, I have to go,” Lance told Zoey and hung up.


Lance opened his bedroom door and walked down the hall to the kitchen. “What’s up Dad?”


“Was that Zoey?”


“Yeah.”


“Did you invite her over? Girlfriends like that kinda thing.”


Lance stared at the pot of boiling spaghetti sauce on the burner. If that pot wasn’t there, Dad would have to go to the store. What if he knocked that over? What reason would he have to knock it over? He had to think fast. He flashed back to the scene at the cafeteria with Rory. A break up.


“She uh… broke up with me. That was her on the phone.”


Dad stopped what he was doing and looked at Lance. Clearly he was hurt and disappointed. That made Lance realize what he had to do was going to be that much harder.


“Lance-”


Lance eased his way closer to the stove and slammed his fist on the counter. “I don't get it. I did everything for her. I worshiped her. And she just tossed me aside for someone else… a football player! That fucking Tyler!”


“Language, Lance!”


“I don’t care. I’m so pissed!” Lance eyed the pot of pasta sauce and thought through his plan. Is he really going to do this?  He has to get his dad out of the house. How much trouble is he going to be in? This is the only way. 


He slammed his fist into the side of the pot. 


A few things ran through Lance’s mind at that point. One. That hurt. He’d never punched anything before. Even an inanimate object such as a pot full of tomato sauce. Two. That was hot. He hadn’t considered that the contents of the pot were boiling. Three. He didn’t hit it with enough force. The pot didn’t tip and instead slid sideways and was perched on the precipice of the stove. Four. It didn’t work and he wasted this fake outburst..  Five…


Both Lance and his dad stood there in shock and watched the pot wobble and then in slow motion tip over the edge of the stove and fall.


A moment that seemed like an eternity later Lance and his dad watched the pot fall in slow motion.  As the pot came crashing down, sauce erupted up, splattered all over the floor, and the cabinets. 


Dad stood there with a shocked expression on his face, that slowly gave way to one of anger.


“Lance,” Dad forced himself to speak calmly. “I know you’re hurting, but this behavior is unacceptable.”


“I’m, I’m sorry,” Lance replied. “I don’t know what came over me.” He was rubbing his hand over a combination of burns and bruising.


Dad shook his head and turned off the burner. “You're grounded. No Game Boy. No computer. I’m going to have to run out to the grocery store. Clean this up.”


* * *


Zoey and Mack sat in their car a block away waiting for Mr. Biggs to drive off. Once he did, they pulled in front of Lance’s house and quickly walked to the door and knocked on it.


Lance opened the door for them. “Bad news,” he announced. “On top of everything else, I’m grounded now.”


“One problem at a time,” Zoey said, taking charge of the situation. “Let’s get you made over for the party.” 


“Yeah, well we have a lot of problems.”


Zoey sniffed the air. “Dinner smells good, though.”


“Yeah, unfortunately it’s all over the kitchen floor now. And I have to clean it up.”


“And get ready for your date?”


“And keep my Dad away long enough for us to do all of that.”


“Zoey will figure all of that out, right,” Mack interjected looking at Zoey. “Listen, if you need us, we’ll be in Lance’s room.” Mack grabbed Lance’s hand and pulled him towards the hallway.


Zoey found the portable phone sitting on the couch and dialed Peggy’s number.


“Hello?” Peggy answered, out of breath.


“Hey, I need to call in a favor.”


“Zoey? Where are you calling from?”


“Lan- er- Simone’s house. We need some way to keep Mr. Biggs busy while we get Simone ready for your party.”


“What do you need from me? I’m already busy setting up for my own party.” She reminded Zoey.


“I was looking for ideas. He’s at the grocery store.”


“Well, my math partner Clarissa can’t make it here on-time because she’s doing a carwash fundraiser. I think maybe it’s in the same shopping center as the grocery store.”


“That’s perfect! She can stall him.”


“How?”


“She can wash his car!”


“OK. No promises, Zo. I don't know how I’m going to get a hold of her. Then we’d need a description of the car. How long do you need?”


“An hour and a half.”


“She’s going to ask what's in it for her.”


“Umm, tell her it's for me. I can arrange something cool for her - in the yearbook or at the prom.” Zoey walked into the kitchen and saw the tomato sauce flood across the floor with splashes all over the oak cabinets as if a giant meatball was murdered here. “Oh, fuck. Do you know anyone who can clean a crime scene?”


“Zoey, are you OK?”


“Yeah, let me get you a description of his car."


* * *


Mack dropped a garment bag and duffle bag on Lance’s bed. “Here’s what I have,” she announced. She unzipped the garment bag and pulled out a red cocktail dress.


Lance looked at it with his jaw dropped. “You want me to wear that?”


“Well, this one was Zoey’s idea.”


“Is so… it’s so… sexy.”


“It’s certainly not my style,” Mack giggled.


“What’s this?” he asked, holding up a corset. “A medieval torture device?”


Mack laughed. “Exactly.”


He put the corset down and picked up a wig in a clear bag. “A new wig?”


“Yeah, this one is closer to your sister’s hair style in that picture you sent me.”


“Cool,” Lance admired, brushing it.


“You said you’re grounded?”


“Yeah. No Game Boy or computer.”


“For how long?”


“He didn’t say.”


“Bummer.”


Lance looked sadly at Mack. “I told him Zoey broke up with me.”


“Just now? I suppose she doesn’t know yet.”


“Nope. I wonder who will be more upset - my dad or Zoey. I think Zoey was enjoying the role she was playing. And my dad just loved the idea of me having a girlfriend.”


“Yeah, I don’t know. Is he expecting you to eat dinner with him?”


“Yeah.”


“But not if you’re heartbroken?”


“I guess.”


“Then I can be you again. I can just lock myself in your bedroom.”


“With no computer or video games?”


“I’ll survive, Lance. Do you have any good books? Comics?”


“Some.”


Mack dropped her voice. “Yo, Dad, I'm doing homework, I’ll be back later.”


Lance laughed. “I don’t sound like that.”


“Yes, you do. It worked last weekend.”


“Guys are very short and abrupt. ‘I’m doing homework.’”


“I’m doing homework,” Mack repeated with a deep voice.


“Less Jersey accent.”


“OK. Less Jersey. More California. ‘Dude, I’m doing homework, chill.’”


“Californians do not sound like that.”


Mack giggled then resumed her normal voice. “Anyway. Let’s get to work. Lay back and close your eyes,” she instructed. 


Lance laid on the bed. Mack was busy preparing something. “What are you doing over there?”


“Just heating this up.”


He felt something warm and gooey dabbed across his eye brows. “What kind of makeup are you putting on?”


She didn’t answer.


Then he felt Mack push a piece of paper on top of the warmth. “Wait. Is that-”


Rip. 

* * *


Zoey ignored the cry of pain coming from Lance’s room as she was on her hands and knees cleaning up spilled spaghetti sauce. He thinks he knows pain now? Just wait until he has to spend all night in heels. 


Once the pasta sauce was cleaned up, Zoey decided to look around Lance’s house. As she wandered from room to room, she noticed the lack of decorations. Mr. Biggs was apparently waiting for Mrs. Biggs to move in and manage the decorating. Men.


There was one family portrait hanging on the wall. It looked like it was taken in the 80’s. Mr. Biggs looked to be much younger and sporting a mustache. His wife by his side was a looker with her 80’s big-hair perm. In front of them sat two 8 year olds. A boy and a girl. They had the same face with the only differentiating features being the length of their hair and the clothing they wore.


There was a knock at the door. “Shit, he’s early,” Zoey panicked.


She opened the door to find Christopher standing there in a crisp button down shirt and slacks.


He looked at her with confusion. “Zoey? What are you doing here?”


“Simone is my friend. My sister and I were getting her ready for your date. Come on in.”


Christopher walked in. “Sorry I’m early. Are um… Simone’s parents around?”


“No, they’re out.” Zoey smiled. “It’s just me. And my sister. And Simone. She’s just finishing up.”


“Oh, OK.” 


“Have a seat.” Zoey internally giggled as she realized that Christopher was sitting in the same place she was last week and she was standing in the same place Mr. Biggs was. “So what are your intentions with my friend?” she asked in her most menacing voice and staring him down.


A look of dread washed over Christopher’s face.


“I’m just kidding.”


“Oh, thank God. I was already too nervous to talk to Simone’s father. I wasn’t expecting that.”


“So.”


“So.”


“The yearbook is coming along nicely,” she said with a smile.


“It is. I’ve already uploaded half of the copies to the computer. Just waiting for the last few pages to get made.”


“Um, what do you do in your spare time?”


“Mostly video games. I also play some D&D on the side.”


“D&D?” Zoey’s ears perked up. “Really? I just finished a campaign,” she boasted. “Killed a few Orcs. Took down a necromancer. Got wasted in a tavern. You know, another day, another quest.”


“Impressive. I’m a 9th level Mage. Last night I saved a whole village with one spell.”


“Oh, well, um I’ve only actually played one time. It’s my sister who plays on a regular basis.” She smiled and looked desperately toward the hallway for any sign of Simone or Mack.


“Your sister is Mackenzie right?”


“Yeah.”


“I’ve seen her around.  I met her briefly the other day. She seems cool.”


Zoey nodded and fiddled with her fingers.


“Well, something smells really good in here,” Christopher sniffed the air and commented.


Zoey wanted to thank Christopher for noticing her perfume, but she realized there was definitely a scent of pasta sauce coming from her cleaning efforts. She had gotten some on her clothes and in her hair.


“I smell… tomato sauce…”


“We all had some pasta and sauce earlier. It’s an old family recipe.”


“...mixed with… Pine Sol?”


“We’re messy eaters.”


“Oh, well, I’m sure it was delicious,” Christopher said in a complimentary tone.


They both resumed sitting there in awkward silence. 


* * *


“They still sting.” Lance complained, touching his eyebrows.


“Stop touching ‘em.” Mack scolded, swatting his hand away. “You’ll rub the aloe off.”


Lance grimaced as he sat on his hands. The pain reminded him of the time he cut his leg and had it wrapped in gauze and surgical tape. When the nurse ripped the tape off his leg he thought it was worse than the injury itself. "And now I shave the hair off my legs willingly," he thought, ironically. 


“Have you been reading the stuff I sent you?” Mack asked, while applying makeup.


“Yes, the tutorials are great.”


“I mean - the other stuff.”


‘You mean the stories?”


“Yeah.”

“A little bit.  Is that the stuff you’re into?”


“Me? No. I have a friend I see while at conventions who is trans. She recommended everything I gave you. The tutorials, the stories, etc.”


“Oh,” Lance replied. “Trans?”


“Transgender.  She was born a guy.”


“And now she’s a girl?”


“Yeah, though she’d tell you she was always a girl.”


“And someone could just do that?”


“Yup. Unlike those stories you read, it doesn’t require magic.”


“Isn’t that kinda weird?  I get dressing up and cosplaying. It’s cool to be someone else for a bit.  This whole ordeal has been exciting and thrilling. But to continually wear a costume…”


“Well, Lance, for some people, the costume is real, and their everyday clothes are the costume.”


“Oh.”


“I’m done with your makeup. You can start getting dressed. One last question, Lance.”


“Shoot.”  Lance pulled off his T-shirt.


“Let’s pretend for a second you died and had a chance to be reincarnated. You could pick your gender.  Which one?”


Lance mulled that over for a moment as he started putting on his new strapless bra.  “I guess both have their pros and cons.  On one hand, being male again is easy.  It’s what I am, and what I know.  But being female sounds different and exciting.  I've already had 17 years of being male, might as well try the path not taken, right?”


Mack smiled.  “Right.” Lance was further down the rabbit hole than she expected. She wanted to probe further to help Lance with his introspection, but her trans friend told her to go slow.  There would be more opportunities. 


Lance shifted around the bra.  “Is this right?  It’s tighter than my others.”


“It’s a strapless bra, you don't have the luxury of using your shoulders for support.”


“How about you?” Lance smirked.  “You asked me all of these questions but haven’t told me about you.”


“Well, you may have noticed I’m not as feminine as my sister.”


“Totally.”


“Well, I don’t think I’m transgender, but I’m open to it.  I think I’m more gender fluid.


Lance looked at her upon hearing those words. “What does gender fluid mean?”


If you consider gender a spectrum as opposed to a discrete bucket, then I’m fluid on that spectrum.  Some days I’m more masculine.  Some days I’m more feminine.  I experiment with my appearance.  I only wear dresses and heels occasionally.  But when I do, I can make even Zoey jealous.”


“Oh.”  Lance thought about it some more and remembered when they got changed together on the ferris wheel and again later that afternoon.  “Is that why you wear tight sports bras?”


Mack looked at him and raised an eyebrow.


“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean-”


“You’re very observant. Those are days I’m not feeling very feminine. But not always.  I have sexy lingerie too- but don’t tell my parents!” Mack chuckled. “You don’t know how annoying it is to be the less feminine sister and have larger breasts!”


Lance laughed with her and picked up his breast forms and slid them into his bra. “Well I’m Simone’s less feminine twin and I currently have bigger breasts than her.” 


Mack laughed at Lance’s joke. “Actually, I’m not wearing a sports bra today. Here look,” Mack said, taking off her T-shirt.  


Lance noticed she was wearing a pink and black bra.  He then turned bright red and looked away.


“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re wearing a bra too.”


Lance slowly turned back towards her.


“Do you like this style?”


“I do.  It’s very cute.  I like how it…  draws attention to…. I mean.  I wish I had… umm-”


“-Do you now?” Mack giggled.


“Sorry. I was just wondering why anyone would want to cover those up.”


“Ha.  Now you’re starting to sound like my sister.” 


Lance was tongue-tied and he felt like he was digging himself a bigger hole while talking breasts with a buxom girl in just a bra.


“When I go to college I am considering cutting my hair shorter to help with some more masculine looks.”


“Aren’t you a junior? Why not now?”


“My parents are obsessed with me and Zoey having long hair.”


“Oh.”  Lance thought for a moment whether if he was in Mack’s position, would he stand up to his parents.  What would his dad say if Lance told him he thought he might be gender fluid? Or transgender? Thankfully he didn’t have to worry about that.


“Anyway, If I’m going to be you this evening, I better find something to bind these with," she said, gesturing to the ample contents of her bra.


“I’m sure we can find something,” he said, accidentally glancing down at her cleavage and blushing.


“In a bit. OK, let’s get you into that dress and wig. You’re going to turn some heads.”


* * *


Mr. Biggs pushed his shopping cart up to his car. The sun was already getting lower in the sky and he was eager to get home and restart dinner.


He opened his trunk and loaded the groceries inside. He hoped he wasn’t too hard on Lance. Lance had never acted this way before. But then again, he’d never dated anyone before either. He felt awful for his son and  imagined back to the days when he was a teen and got his own heart broken. He would have to apologize when he got home.


He got into the car and closed the door. As he was about to turn on the ignition a bucket of water splashed on his car.


‘What the-” he cried out as he saw three high school girls in wet T-shirts and shorts standing around with sponges and towels. He rolled down the window as a girl started rubbing soap on the car’s windshield with a sponge..


“What’s going on?”


“We’re having a car wash fundraiser!” one girl announced.


“Car wash? It’s almost dark out. Are you with the cheerleading squad?”


“No,” she boasted, “the drama club. You’re our last car.”


Then a blond girl with a very see-through white T-shirt over a pink bikini took a sponge to the windshield saying, “If music be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting.”


That’s not what he was expecting to come out of a teen girl’s mouth. “Is that Shakespeare?”


The girl at the driver’s window didn’t answer, but waited for the windshield girl to finish. “Will you go hunt, my lord?” she said to the other girl.


“Um, will this take long?” Mr. Biggs asked, rolling his eyes.


“What, Curio?”


“The hart.”


“No, seriously,” Mr. Biggs complained, “I don't have time for this."


A third girl came up to them and announced, “So please my lord, I might not be admitted,

But from her handmaid do return this answer.” Then she splashed water onto the windshield, getting the other girl wet. Her T-shirt clung to all her curves.


An embarrassed Mr. Biggs averted his eyes from the teens and sat there in his car silent, baffled, unsure how to proceed.


“Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. End Act 1, Scene 1.”


“Great,” Mr. Biggs mumbled, handing the closest girl a twenty dollar bill.


“Thank you, kind sir!” she exclaimed. Then she announced, “Act 1, Scene 2.”


“No. No No No!”


“What country, friends, is this?” Another girl asked, washing the drivers side, forcing Mr. Biggs to roll up his window.


“This is Illyria, lady,” another responded, splashing the previous girl with water.


Mr Biggs hit his forehead against the steering wheel in frustration, the parking lot echoing the beep of his car horn


* * *


Zoey paced the living room, occasionally looking out the window, nervous Mr. Biggs would show up. And boy, would they have a lot of explaining to do. Zoey tried to play that out in her head. “Hi, Mr. Biggs. Who’s this boy? Christopher. He’s taking your son out on a date. Lance? Well he’s dressed up like your daughter. Why? Cause I’m the most popular girl in school and… I may be in over my head…”


Both Zoey and Christopher heard the bedroom door open. Christopher stood up and they both looked towards the hallway with bated breath. A few footsteps were heard and out appeared Mack dressed up like Lance, like she did at the carnival.


She wore a button down shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap. She had applied makeup around her jawline to look like 5 o’clock shadow.


Zoey looked at her and raised an eyebrow.


“Hi,” Christopher said, holding out his hand. “Lance, right? Good to see you again. I didn’t know you were here.”


Mack and Chistopher shook hands.


Zoey looked at her and said with her teeth clenched, “Me neither.”


Mack ignored Zoey’s frustration. “Same. My sister is ready,” she said with a smile. “Introducing the very beautiful Simone Biggs!”


Silence.


Zoey stared at Mack with a “what did you do to him?” look.


“Simone!” Mack called again. “It’s your turn to come out.”


Still nothing.


“Dearest sister, Simone, get your cute butt out here - now!” Mack shouted.


Then the sound of a heel hit the hallway floor. Then another. And another.


A heeled foot was the first to appear. Then a sigh as the footsteps stopped. The leg was long and sporting a fresh tan.


Another step and he came out from hiding. He was sporting a very short red dress that clung to all of the curves he didn’t know he had and hung from his shoulders with small thin spaghetti straps. The dress was low-cut, and yet his chest was pushed up to give the illusion of C cup breasts. His long wig was changed out for a much shorter wig that barely brushed his bare shoulders. His freshly made-up face with waxed eyebrows glowed with blush and his eyelash extensions and eyeshadow made his blue eyes pop.


He nervously bit his ruby-red lips as a slack-jawed Zoey and Christopher gazed at him. He tried tugging the hem of the dress because he thought it was too short and showed way too much leg.


Nobody said a word. Mack beamed with pride.


After what seemed like an eternity, Christopher finally found his voice. “S-Simone. Wow, you look amazing,” he managed to stutter.


“Thank you,” Lance blushed as he replied. “You, um, look very nice, too.” They both smiled.


Lance glanced at Zoey who was still silent. “Zoey? You OK?”


“You look…” she cleared her throat. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. “Wow.”


Christopher turned to Zoey. “Didn’t you say your sister was here?”


“Something came up.” Zoey lied.


“Oh, OK. We should get going,” Christopher announced, checking his watch. 


“Right,” Lance agreed as they walked towards the door. He turned to face Zoey with a confident smile and whispered, “We’re gonna win, right?”


“Win what?” Zoey whispered back, still in shock.


“Prom Queen.”


“Oh, yeah…right.” She waved as she watched Lance and Christopher walk out of the house.


“Are you OK?” Mack asked her sister.


“Yeah, I’m fine. I better get ready for the party too. I smell like an Olive Garden.”



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Emily

Hi, I'm Emily and I'm writing Gender Transformation Fiction! This site is a place for my to keep all of my stories in one place. I'm also a software developer in the daytime, so this site will also be a proving ground of cool new features that pop into my head. Feel free to message me on Twitter or at my Discord Server! You can also find me on TGStorytime.com and FictionMania.tv.

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Elron

Excellent chapter! Lots of fun stuff going on.
I can just picture Lance and his father standing there, slack-jawed, while the pot finally teeters over the edge and slowly falls to the floor. I can relate - I dropped a pot of hot sauce once, and the explosion reached the ceiling.

So we have some of everything in here - Shakespeare-quoting girls in wet T-shirts, a beautiful, bouncing buxom girl with bound-up boobs trying to look like a guy, and then the star of the show, Lance, looking like a million bucks in a curve-hugging dress and makeup, stopping every heart within sight.

But the meatball on top of the mountain of pasta has to be the most popular girl in school, smelling like she just mopped the floor in an Italian restaurant - with her hair!  Too bad she broke up with Lance - and doesn't even know she did it!  Beautiful job describing all the fun.
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Emily

Between the tomato sauce, the Shakespeare and the makeover, this chapter is likely the craziest.. maybe next to the D&D one.
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ZylaKat

God, Zoey seems to be crushing harder and harder on Simone :P
I don't know if Mack can get any clearer without violating the Prime Dir-egg-tive xD
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Emily

Mack certainly has patience!
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RandomCrap

I can’t wait for the prom scene. Your writing style is really creative and does wonders for this story. I wonder how Mr. Biggs will learn the truth?
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Emily

Thank you for the compliment! I'm certainly looking forward to showing off the ending.
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RandomCrap

I can’t wait for the prom scene. Your writing style is really creative and does wonders for this story. I wonder how Mr. Biggs will learn the truth?
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