[2]

“Deal!” he slaps your hand with a confident nod and you can’t believe he agreed so easily, “But if you don’t pass, you owe me.”

Reflecting back on the situation, you’re a little upset that you didn’t bet against yourself. Physics is hard.

“Okay,” you start explaining the second you walk through the door after bombing the test, “In my defense, the finals are rigged so that everyone fails. That professor is literally Satan.”

Bobby looks up surprised and a bit confused from where he’s reclining on the couch watching tv. “What? What’s rigged?”

You stop short of the living room, toeing the ground with a worn sneaker in an attempt to put on your best cute act. You’re gonna need it. “T-the test.”

At this is eyes light up and he bounces to sit on the edge of the couch. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he smirks. He feels remotely bad that you didn’t do well on the exam, but his competitive side reminds him that there’ll be other tests. “So how bad of a score did you get?”

“It’s… slightly less than terrible.”

“Define terrible.”

“52%”

He nods in approval and slowly claps his hands together.  “Wow.”

“Yeah I know.” It , it really does, but what’s done is done. “I accept my penalty.”

The evil smile that pulls at the corners of Bobby’s lips makes you shudder involuntarily.

“The first order of business-” Bobby wiggles an eyebrow suggestively, “Is to make you look the part.” He pulls his arm from behind his back, revealing a bundle of clothes. This kid is really trying to die. True to his word, Bobby is transforming you into a boy for the day, and, judging by the loose black jeans, red snapback, and gold chains slung over his arm, he plans to make you into a mini version of himself.

“I can’t wear that, Bobby,” you pout, “I’m already an ugly girl, why make me an ugly boy??”

“Ya,” he chides, placing the clothes on your lap, “You’re beautiful and don’t ever tell yourself otherwise.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and plops down on the bed next to you, “But today, you’re my little prince, princess.”

You stand up with a huff and march into the bathroom to put on the ensemble Bobby carefully pieced together. The jeans actually fit well (you make a mental note to force him to eat a hamburger), but the shirt is so oversized it reaches past your knees. You attempt to tuck in the front and use the black studded belt to hold it in place and it actually works fairly well. High fashion, you think bitterly. The snapback is a bit snug, but you manage to tug it down over your head so that the brim is level with your eyebrows. To top it all off, you pull the excessively large chains over your head, push a pair of studs into your ears, and slip into a pair of high tops.

“Y/N?” Bobby calls from outside the door, “Are you done yet?”

“Yeah,” you grumble checking yourself out in the mirror. It’s a little scary how well you manage to pull this off. “I mean it’s on, but I don’t like this.”

“Come out. Lemme see.”

You’re hesitant to crack the door open, but you swallow heavily and slide out the small opening into the bedroom. You can't help but cover your face in embarrassment. “Let’s get this over with.”

He takes a second to look you up and down and he must not like something he sees because his eyebrows knit themselves together. “We will don't worry,” he tilts his head to the side as if confused. “But right after you- There's something missing...” Bobby reaches out to pull at the shirt you carefully tucked in earlier. “I don't know what it is though... you just seem off.”

“Um, excuse you?” You cross your arms over your chest, scandalized.

He walks around you slowly and suddenly it strikes him. He reaches forward and forcefully yanks your pants down so that a third of your boxers are exposed (they’re not actually your boxers; it’s a detail you try not to dwell on). The waistband is mid thigh and how people are actually able to walk with their pants this low is a mystery to you.

“Perfect,” Bobby grins. And if his gummy smile wasn’t so cute, you’d karate chop it right off of his face.

“You know I hate you, right? Like with every fiber of my being.”

He laughs happily and starts dragging you towards the front door, “I know, I know, I know. Big bad Bobby and his baggy pants.” The front door is thrown open and you feel yourself being pushed out onto porch. “Now if you’re done complaining, we have a full day ahead of us.”

“Aaaaactually,” you spin around and try to push your way back into the house, “I have quite a few things I need to-”

“Now for the first lesson of the day-” he cuts in loudly as he hooks an arm around yours, “How to walk in baggy pants...”

[BACK TO CHOICES]

-