Sister Shenanigans, Part 1: Skimp Shop (Macy POV)

A click, then a tap, then two more clicks, then another few taps. Finally, a slap to the computer desk out of frustration.

This pieca junk’s gotta be older than I am, holy moly.

The computer screen remains frozen on a spreadsheet, a faint electric buzzing betraying its own geriatric confusion. And here she was hoping she could end her shift early, for once.

First the friggin’ aquascape company sends the wrong dang shipment, now I can’t even sign off. On the day I actually have stuff to do, no less.

The soft sound of the automatic doors swishing open flits by her head, but Macy is too focused on recovery without reboot-ery to care. She’s already mentally clocked out for the day, let Cameron deal with any last-minute customers.

In the quiet of the almost-empty store, she can faintly hear her fellow employee as he attempts to dissuade whoever just walked through the door. “Um, we close in like, five minutes… just so you know...”

Cameron’s a sweet guy, and more pleasant to be around than most of Macy’s coworkers, but he could stand to gain a bit more backbone. It’s not his fault some weirdo had to wait til the very last minute to get their ferret food or whatever.

“Oh, uh, I’m just here to wait for my sister.”

I know that voice.

…Wait a sec, that’s not just some weirdo, that’s her weirdo!

Gleefully grabbing an excuse to give up on reviving the scrap heap of a device, Macy rushes out from behind the counter, rounds the corner, and comes face to face with the newcomer. And standing there, in all her gothy glory, is her sister.

“Pearl!”

The younger Nowak daughter is clad in an uncharacteristically tight, characteristically black top, a burgundy cardigan, and shorts, and she carries a large, brightly coloured drink in one hand. All of which Macy only has a split second to register before she fully launches herself onto her little sibling.

College is fun and all, but Macy regrets that it keeps her away from her dorky little sister. With having spent spring break being dragged off to Cancun by her dormmate and work taking over a lot of her life since the start of the summer, they’ve barely even seen each other since Christmas, and she is positively elated at the chance to spend a whole afternoon with Pearl, even if she’s still a tad concerned about where the heck it’s coming from.

Pearl staggers a little bit at the impact, but has adjusted well enough to many years of Macy Hugs that she’s able to stay upright. “Oy, watch the slurpee!”

She doesn’t relent. Eventually, Pearl caves and sighs.

“Hi, Mace.” Deadpan and slightly grumbly. Two awkward pats on the back.

Aw, yeah. That’s the stuff.

After a solid fifteen seconds, Macy releases Pearl from the first increment of six months of stored up huggage and calls to her coworker while pushing her sister out the door. “Hey Cam the ‘puter’s bein’ a jerk could you let Linda know I’m done for the day thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks-”

Cameron’s slightly gaping expression remains visible through the sliding glass doors as he attempts to process the Macy whirlwind leaving him in its dust. Eh, he’ll be fine. He’s a good kid. Now, tis time for the beginning of the Best Sister Bonding Shopping Spree + Library-for-some-reason (working title)!

“To the Crapmobile!”

---

The Crapmobile is a beat-up dark blue SUV that’s only a year younger than Macy, and it’s her baby. When she first graduated, hit her quarter-life crisis early, and decided to take a gap year, she bought it for a song off their cousin and the two of them happily laid waste to the open road. It’s seen her through seven states, three flats, and two messy breakups.

Now, it mostly just ferries her to and from work, but that love still burns.

Macy revels in getting to collapse in her torn yet plush driver’s seat after standing up for five hours straight. And as she does, she observes her sister as she climbs in the other side and buckles her seatbelt.

Pearl is… different, somehow. The clothes are weird, sure (Macy’s honestly not sure she’s seen Pearl leave the house without a hoodie since her sister was like, thirteen), but there’s more to it than that. She carries herself differently. She moves a little more freely, a little more confidently, yet it’s still tinged with a hint of nervousness. Makes Macy wonder if she ought to be more worried about whatever ‘news’ Pearl wants to eventually drop. But, they’ll get there when they get there.

Nobody better have hurt her baby sister.

Once they’re both buckled, Macy maneuvers them out of the mostly-empty parking lot. And on the way out, she notices that her baby sister seems perhaps intent on hurting herself. Or at least her body does, as the impact from hitting a speed bump with just a bit too much force causes Pearl’s unrestrained bust to fly up and practically smack her in the face.

Macy pumps the brakes and gives her sister a onceover. “Okay, Jesus, girl, you are not slim-chested enough to be going around with no support like that. You’re gonna poke out an eye or something.”

Pearl just smiles and adjusts her seatbelt. “Oops.”

Where the heck is this… unreservedness coming from? On her sister, no less. “Uh huh, yeah, sure, oops. What’s with your sudden allergy to bras lately? Is this why we’re going out? To get you resized again? Don’t you usually do that stuff with Mom?”

Pearl gets a little fidgety at that. “I kind of want to keep Mom out of this for as long as possible.”

…And the worry worsens. Macy swallows as she navigates them onto a busier street. “Okay, so… did you tear up all your clothes in the wash or something? I don’t think I’ve even seen you in a cardigan before. It’s a little weird, tee bee aych.”

Pearl blinks and looks down at the cloth swathed around her. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Here, take it back. Not really me.” She unwraps the cardigan from around herself and hands it over.

Macy now suddenly has to deal with the crashing-together thoughts of ‘wait, it’s mine??’, ‘Why is she taking all my clothes all of a sudden what the hell she never does that’, and ‘what on earth is she wearing underneath oh my god my sister really WAS bodysnatched’, all while trying to maintain a vehicle still going forty-five miles an hour.

Under her outer layer, Pearl is clad in a ratty old black tank top at least two sizes too small. The seatbelt pushes apart her braless breasts, the strap just serving to accentuate their weightiness and causing all of the fabric to bunch around the center of her chest, showcasing a truly generous amount of sideboob.

Upon closer inspection, Macy recognizes the tank as also belonging to her. It was some old piece she wore as Phys Ed. clothes back in high school. Now, it seems to have been sentenced to desperately restraining her busty-ass sister’s giant breasts from flopping out. At least if they get in a crash she’s already got some built in airbags.

Jeeze, I’m all for ‘freeing the nipple’ or whatever, but from Pearl? Miss If-Any-Inch-of-Me-Touches-Sunlight-I’ll-Die herself??

Somehow successfully splitting her attention between the road and the anatomy anomaly beside her, Macy mostly manages to keep the total balk out of her voice as she takes the cardigan and hastily tosses it into the back seat. “Holy bazongas, woman, what the actual hell happened to you? Did your closet fall into another dimension?”

Pearl just adjusts one of her spaghetti straps, as if that would help contain the explosion of boob erupting under her chin. “Some idiot’s bullshit claiming powers happened to me,” she mutters.

Macy tightens her grip on the steering wheel, stress causing her to put foot to gas. What the hell does that mean? Who does she need to punch?

The tension in her posture must bleed out into the car interior, because Pearl raises her hands in placation. “Oh my god, calm down before you get us into an accident. Chase just owns what I wear, okay? And apparently I need new clothes. That’s literally it.”

Her tension diffuses. Confusion blooms in its place. Okay, so there’s no threat, clearly, but… what? Chase owns her… She… “Whuh?”

Pearl sighs loudly. It's exaggeratingly laborious, but Macy knows her sister well enough to detect a buried layer of amusement and passive excitement.

“For some goddamn reason, my annoying-ass friend claimed my fashion sense, how I feel about what I wear, what I’m actually wearing at any given moment, all that crap.”

They come to a brief spot at a red light, and a middle-aged woman in a Sedan in the next lane takes the moment to give Macy the stink-eye over her reckless driving. Macy responds with an embarrassed wave before returning to the confusing conversation. “So… he just said, like… ‘No more bras forever’ or…?”

Pearl rolls her eyes as the light turns green. It seems more directed at Chase than her sister. “Little more complex than that.”

She fiddles with the edge of her shorts, rolling them up a little so as to bare more thigh to the world. On top of the already vast expanse. “He basically told me the skimpier I dress the more comfortable I feel, and that wearing basically nothing makes me feel hot and badass, that I always want to show as much skin as I possibly can, blah blah whatever. So at this point pretty much all the clothes I own I can’t even think about wearing or I’ll wanna tear my hair out.”

Pearl ghosts a hand along her back, as if still getting used to not feeling a clasp there. “And now I haven’t worn a single piece of underwear in like thirty hours and I’m off to buy the most revealing clothes I can get my hands on, all because my best friend is a weirdo perv who wants me to be his personal peepshow,” she says, failing to conceal a small smile. Interesting.

…Alrighty, then. It’s a lot to take in, that’s for sure. Pearl may be nonchalant about the whole thing, but Macy is still boggled with the concept that part of her sister is just… owned by someone else now. Hard pill to swallow.

Still, if he owns it, she guesses he can do with as he sees fit, so Macy can hardly hold whatever changes he makes against him. Pearl’s the one who’s had part of her life upended, after all. She might have to be more wary of creeps now, or people getting the wrong idea, but… maybe this could be good for her?

For most of her life, Pearl's been a fairly reserved person, reluctant to open herself to the world. In more ways than one. But a day (or two?) into this strange new life and she already seems a little more comfortable, a bit more confident in herself. This whole situation could be a major stepping stone for getting Pearl out of her shell and allowing her to be the sassy, passionate girl Macy knows she can be. Like she was when she was little, before everything that happened with their dad killed much of her enthusiasm for life.

Maybe. She can hope.

“Also, check it out, now I can do this.” Pearl shoves her giant rainbow drink right in between her breasts and proceeds to slurp obnoxiously.

Evidently, open cleavage + being naturally busty makes for a pretty accessible bonus pocket. Something which Pearl has never been able to take advantage of before now, what with the being constantly bundled up. Of course, with no bra to hold it all together, she has to cradle her bust from the bottom with her arms, lest the entire construction collapse in on itself. So, not as hands-free as probably intended.

The opportunity proves to be too tempting to resist. As the car approaches a stop sign, and with Pearl too invested in maintaining the structural integrity of her boob shackling, Macy deigns to just hit the brakes a tad over-aggressively instead of coming to a slow stop. The Crapmobile complains in turn, and Pearl’s drink goes straight into her face. She swears, and Macy keels over in her driver’s seat, absolutely losing herself in laughter.

In her shock, Pearl is forced to release her arms, letting the plastic cup slip under her shirt and into her lap, further contributing to the mess. Specks of flavoured ice cover her hair, face, breasts, and top. “You DICK!”

As Macy’s cackling continues to escalate, Pearl grins and strikes back by grabbing a small handful of slush and releasing it into her hair. She shrieks gleefully as the cool ice soaks against her scalp and shoves Pearl away.

God, Macy missed her.

A brief but insistent honk reminds them both they’re still very much in traffic. Macy gives the driver behind them a sheepish signal of acknowledgement and once again presses forward. She swears she’s not usually this poor of a driver, but getting to just be sisters again with her favourite person in the world has a way of stealing her focus.

Pearl shifts awkwardly against the sticky drink as it makes her top cling tightly to her skin (well, more tightly than it already was, anyway). “I can’t believe you did that. You’re such a tool.”

Macy hangs a long left and laughs. “Hey, it’s the middle of summer! I thought you could use a little help cooling down. No need to thank me.”

“Yeah, except now I’m stuck in a soaked top.” She balls some of it in a fist, trying to wring the liquid out. “I can already feel my body absorbing the chemicals through my skin, dammit.”

What, like it wasn’t already doing that while she was drinking the stuff? “Well, you’re in luck, because we’re literally about to go buy clothes. You can hang tight for a bit.”

“Screw that.”

Upon hearing this, Macy was expecting her to start sucking the slurpee out of the cloth or something. So she gets a not-small surprise when Pearl just up and takes the whole thing off.

And now all of a sudden she’s riding with a Pearl who’s fully naked from the waist up, boobs free like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

Macy swerves a little in shock – her old driving instructor would have been very disappointed in her performance today – and hastily reaches out an arm to at least attempt to shield her sister’s breasts. It doesn’t accomplish much.

“Oh my god girl what on earth are you thinking- you can’t just randomly- this is neither the time nor place- in my car, oh my god-”

Pearl just sits there with a vaguely skeptical look on her face. Macy honestly can’t tell if she’s just feigning ignorance or she legit doesn’t understand the problem. “What?”

“The hell you mean what- we are in public- this is a decent and proper vehicle- I don’t know what Chase did to your brain but-” She very nearly runs another red light. Maybe she should just hand in her license. “Pearl I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’ve got your freaking boobs out like this is friggin’ Girls Gone Wild in the front seat of my BMW and you’re acting like it’s no big deal??”

Pearl attempts to push Macy’s arm away from her chest. She holds strong. “They’re just breasts.”

Macy has to do some awkward movements in order to continue driving with only her non-dominant hand. “Yeah, and a public indecency fine is just a piece of paper. I get wanting to flaunt what you’ve got, but this is… ugh.” She gives up on using her arm as a SFW filter and pulls it away so she can grab back the cardigan from the seat behind her and toss it across Pearl’s chest. “Put something on, you little harlot. No shoes, no shirt, no chauffeur.”

Pearl grumbles a little but obliges. She struggles to get the garment around herself and tie it underneath her seatbelt, but eventually manages to maneuver it into a knot around her front. A knot that immediately gives way to the pressing flesh beneath.

The cardigan is a bolero, the kind that’s cropped and isn’t really meant to close any more soundly than at a single tied point under the chest. As such, once Pearl impatiently reties it into a rather messy double knot, it doesn’t really succeed in looking like a complete outfit. It does somehow succeed in simultaneously showing off some significant underboob and overboob at the same time. And boy, is that double knot hanging on for dear life.

It’ll have to do.

Gladly returning to two-handed driving, Macy sits in silence for a while as she tries to go over everything she’s learned in the last ten minutes in her mind. Pearl just continues to slurp from the remains of her drink.

Ah, jeeze. “Am I gonna have to get used to you, like… walking around the house naked, now?”

Pearl stops drinking and tilts her head. “I mean, yeah, probably. Not like all the time, but I probably won’t ever wear more than like two things max if I can get away with it. At the very least you’ll be seeing a lotta T&A.”

Macy scrunches up her face over this. Pearl retorts. “Oh, come on. I’m the one who has to actually live this shit now, okay, get over it. If you come down for breakfast and get my whole bare ass in your face, blame Chase. At-home time is now full-frontal me time, and it’s your job,” a poke in the shoulder, “to get used to it. New normal.”

Guess their house is now one-third a nudist resort. My, how things change.

Macy lets out a patient sigh. “Me and Mom both, I guess.”

Pearl lets out a slow blink, then puts her face in her hands. “Oh, god, Mom’s going to think I’m a slut.”

Macy snorts. “Uh huh. Cause you know you, and all the sex you’re totally having. You’re fine, dude.”

Pearl scowls, blushes, and shifts a little uncomfortably, but doesn’t say anything. Not the reaction Macy was expecting. Whatever. “Mom’ll be fine. She might be kinda confused, and a little weirded out by seeing her daughter’s boobs at the dinner table, but things will work out okay. I’ll help you talk to her.”

Pearl hugs a knee to her chest. “Okay. Thanks.”

They spend the next couple minutes in silence, Macy focused on their destination and Pearl leaning her head against the window. After a turn she apparently wasn’t anticipating, Pearl furrows her brow. “Wait, you never even said where we were going.”

Macy just grins. “Guess.”

Pearl’s skepticism heightens, but plummets into a dawning of understanding and begrudging acceptance as they pull into a massive parking lot. “God. Damn it.”

Macy woops. “Thas right, we goin’ to my store, baybeeee!”

Pearl just thumps her head down against the dashboard.

Hell yeah. Best Sister Sunday Bonding Shopping for Suggestive Clothes Cause the Baby Sister Likes Being Almost Nude Now Spree + Wait I Still Don’t Know Why We’re Going to the Library (tentative title) is a go!

---

A minute later and Macy, brimming with excitement, is posing in front of the giant glowing Macy’s sign adorning the building. She gestures back and forth between the name and her face as the latter lights up as bright as the former. Cause who else has an entire department store with the same name as them? That’s right, no one.

Pearl, ever the sardonist, chooses to maintain her disdainful expression as her sister continues to postulate like she owns the whole complex. Macy and Pearl, back in business, baby. It’s like she never left.

Of course, Pearl has put up with this before. There was a rather large stretch of time when any family trip to the mall was accompanied by little Macy shrieking in delight at her name in lights, insisting that they go visit so she could check up on ‘her’ wares, holding her head high and declaring herself whatever various important sounding titles she would see on documents floating around her mom’s desk: CEO, CCO, CFO, GTFO. Ah, memories.

As they pass through the sliding glass doors to behold the sea of clothing before them, Macy does a flouncy twirl and flings her arms out, as if presenting all the aisles as her own personal creation.

Pearl just twirls her slurpee straw in its cup and smirks. “Wow, Mace, your store is pretty shit.”

The hazel-haired girl flings a palm to her chest and gasps a deep, dramatic gasp. “How dare!” Turning towards the guard stationed at the front of the store, she points toward her heathen of a sister and stomps her foot. “Bradley, have her taken away!”

The sunglass’d security man, whose name tag clearly reads CARSON, turns his head toward her and raises an eyebrow before resuming his stone-faced stare forward. Realizing she’s been betrayed by her own employee, Macy’s shoulders slump.

“Oh my god, stop harassing the staff, you weirdo. Are we doing this or what.” Pearl grabs Macy’s arm and pulls them both to where she presumably can’t be embarrassed by her older sister’s antics anymore.

All faux haught, Macy makes a big show of regaining her composure. “Very well. You may peruse my wares as you wish. Now let’s get you out of that cardigan before it croaks on you.”

---

They start in the tops section, because yeah, better to get those thangs under control before Bradley/Carson throws them out for indecent exposure.

Macy attacks the racks with fervor, throwing ideas and garments towards Pearl, who manages not to get lost in the crossfire. But annoyingly, for every piece Macy picks out, Pearl is ready with a critique to render it inadequate according to her adjusted tastes. Too long, too loose, too frumpy, too… sensible.

“I’m not dressing up to go to church, so no.”

“Do I look like a grandma?”

“Yeah, sure. …Wait, you’re serious?”

Are all criticisms that Macy’s fashion sensibilities are quite unused to receiving. From their mother, she usually gets the exact opposite remarks. Feeling a little put upon, she throws a hand up in the air. “Okay, Miss Priss, why don’t you pick something?”

“Um.” Pearl, a little unused to being handed the fashion reins, blinks. She takes a step back and glances at the shelves surrounding them as if seeing them for the first time. After a couple moments, she reaches for a sleek black cropped camisole, holds it up to her front, and looks at Macy.

Macy drops her hand and squints skeptically. “That’s like two sizes too small for you, dude. You’re gonna be bursting outta that thing.”

Pearl’s face doesn’t move. The stare continues. Finally, Macy clues in.

“…Right. Yeah. Ok. That’s the whole point. Fair enough.” New mindsets, new… styles. For lack of a better word.

Perhaps she needs to rethink her entire plan of attack. “Alright fine, how bout you go try that on and I’ll keep looking, mmkay?” A brief but insistent usher towards the changing rooms and Macy is alone enough to review the section with a new frame of mind.

Recalibration.

Okay, skimp. Skimp, skimp. Skin, skin. Tight, tight. Preferably in black. At least that part of Pearl’s tastes hasn’t changed.

A couple minutes later, and Pearl exits a changing stall, holding the top she picked earlier. “Never mind, way too itchy.”

Without dropping any of her accumulated pile of clothing, Macy has to dash over to her while holding back a frustrated scream. Because when Pearl took off the top, she apparently didn’t see it necessary to put anything else back on before leaving the privacy of the dressing room. So now she’s just standing bare-chested in the middle of the aisle.

In her store. In her Macy’s.

Because of course she is.

“Pearl, could you maybe please put something on top of those.” This seems kinda a little bit too far.

Her sister puts the camisole back on a rack. On the wrong kind of rack, in this case. “Why?”

“Because, and I’m putting my foot down on this, you cannot have your jiggly bits out in a public department store.”

Pearl nonchalantly looks up and down the aisle, then back to her sibling. “It’s not like there’s even anybody around to see them.”

“Yeah, and that could change at literally any moment. Not to mention the frigging security cameras.” She points her chin towards a small device in the ceiling corner.

Expression not budging an inch, Pearl turns her gaze from Macy towards the camera. Staring it down, she slowly proceeds to take a hand to one breast and bounce it a little.

Macy plants her face into the pile of clothing in her arms.

“Alright, you little freak, get your butt in the stall.” Raising her head, she uses a kicking leg to insistently usher her sister towards a more private location. “I’m getting in with you this time, and you will not be leaving until I deem you presentable.”

---

The changeroom isn’t exactly spacious, but it’s got more than enough for the two of them. Macy drops her pile onto a bench and grabs the first garment before all but stuffing it over Pearl’s head. “Could you please explain to me once and for all what compels you to be topless in a public space?”

Pearl pulls her head through the collar and adjusts the blouse around her waist. “Like I said, they’re just breasts.” She glances at herself in the mirror and makes a vague noise of appreciation.

Ha, see, I can make good fashion choices. Knock my sensibilities again, why don’t you.

Of course, probably the only reason Pearl likes this one at all is because it’s got the deepest V Macy’s ever seen. Whatever, she’ll take what she can get.

She exhales slowly and grabs for the next one. “Okay, yes, that is literally what they are, but I know you are capable of making the brainal connections necessary to realize that there are certain rules of propriety that we follow as members of a society that-”

“Fuck society.”

Macy gets the distinct feeling she’s touched on a contentious topic.

Pearl’s voice begins climbing. “Why should I give a fuck if society thinks my body is just too fucking obscene for them to handle? How the fuck is that my problem?”

She whirls on Macy and presses on either side of her own chest, forcing the V to bloom out even more cleavage. “I have breasts, for fuck’s sake, I have a body, and I don’t care if the world knows it. I don’t give a shit if it sees it. Maybe I want the world to see it. See me.”

Impassioned arm gestures have joined the fray. “It feels good, okay, to just fucking not give a shit. To tell society to fuck off and never give a shit about its stupid rules or care if the world sees my tits, or my ass, or, or, or my pussy or whatever.”

She sits down on the bench, quieting her voice a little. “Who cares if I look like a slut. Maybe I want to look like a slut. Maybe looking like a slut is cool.”

She exhales, a little shakily. “Maybe I just want to be comfortable in my own body.”

And thus ends the great Let Pearl Show Her Boobs rant of 20XX. It’s been a while since Macy has borne witness to one of her sister’s diatribes, but she knows enough to remain on the sidelines until the gal wears herself out. “Feeling better?”

Pearl just teeters over onto her side unceremoniously. “Yeah. Sorry.” Her voice is slightly hoarse.

Macy squats down to look at her sister at eye level and pats her cheek. “You’re fine, babe. Chase really said a lot to you, hey?”

Perhaps unbidden, Pearl’s mouth quirks into a lazy smile. “Yeah. What a douchebag.”

Macy pokes her face. “And that ‘douchebag’ is the reason we’re here today. So, you ready to enter the gauntlet?”

Pearl scrunches her nose. “Enter the what-”

Unfortunately, the rest of her sentence gets cut off by a tank top being thrown into her face. What a shame.

---

Some hectic hour or so later, they’ve built a full pile of satisfactorily shirts, tanks, and blouses. ‘Slut’ apparently being the word du jour for this deep clothing dive.

It’s with no shortage of effort or tedium, either. Macy, determined to be scrutinizing beyond (in spite of) Pearl’s base ‘does it show off my assets’ standards, launches into a usually one-sided discussion for each piece regarding brand, cut, material, and a number of other things Pearl visibly could not care less about. Not for Macy’s significant lack of trying. But no, as long as it’s showy, skimpy, and preferably dark, Pearl could not care less. Usually. She was pretty into that one white backless shell top with the big skull pattern. So that’s something, at least.

Finally, once Macy has approved her sister’s choice of a halter top that’s quite tight around the chest as suitably bosom-covering, they can exit the stall, and start looking the first pair of bottoms.

And good god, did Macy never think she’d see the day where her little sister wore short shorts.

Pearl seems unused to the whole concept herself, and comes out wearing a stylish grey jean pair while walking a little stiffly.

Macy raises a brow. “Problem?”

Her sister pauses a moment and adjusts the waist. “Maybe. It’s a little snug.”

“I thought you wanted snug?”

“Yeah, I guess. I dunno. Just… feels weird having a cold zipper right up against my vag.”

...

She’s not- of course she’s not. Obviously she’s not. Oh my god.

Pearl shows no signs of being about to bear her whole womanhood to the clientele of her sister’s store on this random summer Sunday, but Macy ain’t about to take that risk. So back into the change room her apparently commando sister goes. Pearl grumbles about it, but begrudgingly stays put. And after tossing a pack of underwear under the door and compiling a brand new pile of bottom-half boudoir-ery, Macy enters back into the stall, ready to do the whole process over again.

Pearl, thankfully, is wearing a pair of lacy black panties with thin straps that compliment her broad hips. She also isn’t wearing any pants to cover them, perhaps out of protest. Macy ignores this in favour of mentally patting herself on the back for another keen-eyed selection.

Slipping into the room to dump her arm-stack of shorts, skirts and skinny jeans off to the side, she bumps her hip against her sisters’ on the way. “Hey-heyyyyy, those are cute, girl. Do you like them?”

Pearl just glowers comically, arms folded. “Yes.”

Macy grins and hands her the first pair of chino shorts. And so it begins again.

---

The conversation flows easily as they chip away the mountain of cloth and denim. Questions and quips about work (“I held a snake today,” “Holy shit that’s so fucking cool”), about school (“Did you finally get off your ass and pick a major?” “I’M WORKING ON IT OKAY”), about new lifestyles (“dude, without a bra, boob sweat just evaporates, it’s great”), and old arguments (“Hey remember when you smashed mom’s four hundred dollar snowglobe?” “I WAS FIVE. YOU TOLD ME IT WAS A TOY”). Eventually, Macy runs into a lull in the conversation and an oddity in her sister’s behaviour. While she herself hunkers down in the corner sifting through an increasingly unorganized pile of clothing trying to identify the next piece up for judgement, she notices Pearl attempting to stealthily take a photo of herself.

Now, Pearl is not and has never been a selfie person. She’ll be in group photos when pressed, but she pretty much never turns the camera around on herself. Macy knows for a fact that her sister’s phone gallery is almost exclusively ironic memes and photos of graffiti she thought was cool. Heightened confidence or no, it’s hard to imagine that ever changing. Which is why Macy’s curiosity is so very piqued.

After snapping a shot she’s satisfied with, Pearl types something into her phone, and after a few moments breaks into a small grin. With her being so apparently engrossed in whatever’s on her screen, Macy is able to quietly sidle up behind her, peer over her sister’s shoulder, and observe what captures her attention so.

It’s a text conversation.

-Contact: [Eggplant Emoji]
Pearl: [very risqué photo]
Pearl: Enough skin for you you perv rat bastard
Chase: Eh it’s not like I haven’t seen way more of you ;)
Pearl: You are such an asshole you know that. God I hate you
Chase: Whatever you say ms. ‘when I look at you my pussy turns into a fire hydrant’
Pearl: [middle finger emoji]

Holy utter crap.

Macy all but screams into her sister’s ear. “You and Chase are a couple!?”

Pearl flinches so hard her phone jumps out of her hands and clacks onto the floor. Whirling around, she turns to face her older sister, eyes wide in shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, haven’t you ever heard of privacy?!”

Rich words from the girl who’s flashed me twice today.

Macy’s voice raises several octaves as she fails to restrain her elation. “Oh my god, you are! You have a boyfriend!”

Pearl snatches her phone from the ground, eyes wide, desperately trying to keep the situation under control. “He’s not my fucking boyfriend!”

Macy shriek-laughs, feverish excitement coming off her in waves. “Oh, puh-leese, that was the most scandalous conversation my poor innocent eyes have ever seen!”

“That doesn’t mean-”

Oh no, she ain’t getting out of this one. “Pearl, you literally have the penis emoji as his contact and you expect me to believe you guys aren’t doing things?”

Pearl’s head snaps to the phone in her hand. “Fuck,” she whispers, as if it was the device that gave her away and not her own libido.

High on sisterly glee and the potential for endless teasing, Macy continues to cackle. “Do I even wanna know about the rest of those texts? I bet they’re sizz-liiiiiiiiiiiiiing,” she singsongs.

Pearl holds her phone with both hands like a shakily drawn dagger. “I’m not- we’re not- he just controls what I wear, I’m not fucking into him like-”

Macy circles her sister like predator circling prey. “Oh, like you’re so broken up about showing off your whole body for your totally platonic guy friend.” She blows a raspberry. “You think he’s so hot, and he knows it-”

“He’s my fucking friend-” At this point, it sounds like Pearl’s trying to convince herself over anyone else.

Macy leans into her sister’s space with a Cheshire grin. “Yeah, your best friend, who nabbed what you wear cause he just had to see you in skimpier clothes, how buddy-buddy of him, he thinks you’re a swell friend who just happens to have real nice boobs-”

“He just owns my consent, okay!?” Pearl bursts, sounding panicked.

There’s a pause as the changeroom grows silent. Macy stops circling and straightens her back. “He owns your what now too?”

Pearl inhales and exhales. Once, then again, slower the second time. “…He gets… to choose… my consent. Whenever I want to- y’know- ‘do things’.” She gestures half-heartedly down at her own body, refusing to look Macy in the eye. “And now’s he’s decided that I just really fucking want to do him.”

Pause.

Intake new development.

Macy saunters forward and puts her hands on her sibling’s shoulders. “Pearl.”

The girl in question raises her head to look at her. Macy stares her dead in the eye.

“Are you telling me my baby sister got herself laid?”

Now, the convenient and lovely thing about Pearl’s pale complexion is that it’s always delightfully easy to tell when she’s blushing, and blushing hard. Even if the reddening is laid across an expression that implies she wants to stab out your eye socket. It’s all the confirmation Macy needs.

She squeals and wraps her arms around her little sister, rocking them both from side to side. “I’m so proud of youuuu, you’re growing up so fast-”

Pearl lets her arms dangle at her sides, refusing to return the hug. “I hate you so fucking much.”

“Uh-huh, just like you hate Chase, right- oof.”

Pearl reaches up to press her hand against Macy’s face and push her off. Macy, still grinning, concedes and backs away.

Pearl pats herself down and starts aggressively shucking off her shorts in favour of the next pair. Macy skirts around her and continues to straddle the edge of how much teasing is too much as she selects the next one.

“Wow, Chase, of all the guys, I can’t believe it. I remember when he had more acne than skin. Funky little goober of a kid, but I always liked him.”

Pearl scrunches up her nose. “Ew. Can you not?”

Macy ignores her. “Not as much as you like him though, cause apparently just being around him gets you flowing-”

That red in Pearl’s face has no reason to vacate, so Pearl just tries to hide it away in her hands. “Feel free to stop anytime” comes out muffled.

Aw, and why should she? Seeing Pearl embarrassed off her ass because of a boy and the things she did with that boy is adorable, hilarious, and the most fun Macy’s had in weeks.

“I watched you two little babs grow up, and now he’s a man and you’re a woman-” she steps up behind Pearl, rubs her shoulders conspiratorially, and smirks at her through the mirror, “and he gets to be all up in this-”

Pearl abruptly steps away from her touch, grabs for the hem of her top and motions to leave the stall. “Wow, suddenly I feel like walking around the mall with my fat fucking tits out, wonder where that came from-”

Macy laughs but rushes to grab her sister’s arm. “Okay, okay wait wait wait wait I’m sorry I’ll stop just don’t do that please I love you but don’t.”

Pearl just raises a damning eyebrow, still halfway through releasing the hounds. Through her continuous giggling, Macy does her best to maintain a pleading and placating expression.

Finally, Pearl squints and acquiesces. “Love you too. Now let go.”

Macy obliges, and they go back to trying on clothes. As they continue, she manages to tamp down most of her teasological instincts. But that doesn’t mean she’s gonna withhold her many burning questions. And Pearl, bless her, seems to know she’s not going to be able to get away from at least a few. Or perhaps a flurry more than a few.

“When did this start? How many times have you guys done it? Is that what you were doing last night?” gets met with “Friday, once, we were just gaming you perv.”

“Where’d it happen? How’d it feel? Who knows about this?” with “My room, wet and weird, literally just you.”

“Was it good? Was he good? Did you guys use protection? Are you excited to do it again?” “Yes, fuck off, no, fuck off.”

It’s that second-to-last one, said like it’s only worth a shrug, that gets Macy to immediately snap her head up and meet her own face in the mirror, eyes wide.

That…

She honestly would not expect Pearl to approach her first sexual encounter without some kind of contraception. C’mon, this is Pearl they’re talking about. If anyone wanted to avoid any potential consequences, it’d be her. So would she really take that kind of risk, be that irresponsible? Would Chase be that irresponsible? Even if the plan was to… finish outside, they could still… she could still…

“…Pearl, do we need to get you some Plan B?”

While struggling to do up a button on a too-small pair of hotpants, her sister stills, perhaps realizing she slipped up. “Um.” A civil war crosses her features. “No?”

The taller girl steps up beside her and gently grips her elbow. “Hey… even if you think nothing’s gonna happen, we still need to make sure, cause you never know what can…”

Pearl brushes her arm away and sighs. “Maybe I want something to happen. Isn’t there a whole evolutionary reason sex exists?”

…

…Um.

Brain freeze. Short circuit. Halt. Excusez-moi the living heck?

Macy knows when her sister is joking. This does not sound like joking. But what else could it possibly be?

There is no single possible way this is coming from Pearl. Pearl. Literal teenager. Hates children, loves profanity, once left the room after hearing the word ‘fallopian’. Would punch God in the groin for a free can of red bull. The girl who is so against anything weird happening to her body that I’m like 80% sure the only reason she doesn’t have a tattoo by now is that they involve needles.

Ma’am, are you implying what I think you’re implying?

“…Come again?”

Pearl, or at least the anomaly in the shape of Pearl, bunches up a fist in her hair and exhales hard through her nose. “Okay. Fuck. I wasn’t gonna… Guess we’re doing this now. Okay. Shit.”

Stiffly, she turns towards her sister, hands out in front like she doesn’t know what to do with them. She avoids eye contact.

“So like… when Chase was… all up in this, like you said, he, uh… used my…” The hands clench and she bites her lip. She seems to be having some real difficulty talking about whatever the hell this is supposed to be about and would probably love nothing more than to dance around the issue but screw that Macy wants to know what the big f***ing crap is going on. Girl, for the love of everything holy, speak.

“Are you gonna-”

“SO basically we were having sex and things were going in places and that was fun and weird and I guess he just wanted a warm place to finish or something or maybe he just really got off on the idea of me having his fucking whatever or some shit I dunno but he used my consent to go hey I’m gonna blast inside you and you’re ok with that and you want that oh but hey Chase what if get knocked up yeah don’t worry Pearl it’s fine that’s fine you consent to that too cause I can’t think beyond the next thirty seconds so shut up and accept that now you really want to get knocked up cause that’s what consent means but now my insides are full of fucking baby juice so there’s really no going back and my brain’s just going holy shit all I want is to have a fucking baby so now we’re just actively trying to get me p-pregnant.”

Macy’s mouth hangs open. Pearl looks like she wants to rip her own off her face.

Both sisters stare wide-eyed at not each other.

“…Pearl, how for real are you right-”

“Pretty fucking for real.”

A beat. Macy clacks her jaw closed. She flicks her eyes down to look at her sister. Pearl flicks her own up to stare back, still all the way open.

…

This girl. This goblin of a girl, with her panties out and hair like a rat’s nest…

Is going to have a baby.

This shortstack little demon-child. This amalgamation of hormones, sarcasm, unnecessary rage and unadulterated edge in an eighteen-year-aged sack of human flesh. This literally-what-is-exercise, my-sweat-smells-like-coke-zero, mom-how-do-I-do-laundry of a goofy little gamer goth. This sister-shaped sentience. Her closest confidante, her oldest friend, her partner-in-crime, the jerk who broke her Littlest Pet Shop™ Little Lovin’ Pet Playhouse when she was seven (and she shall never forget nor forgive). Her best and worst sibling.

This pale little package of pure Pearl-y perfection. This beautiful creature.

Is going to have a baby.

And something breaks inside Macy’s head.

She’s rushing forward, and she’s hugging Pearl, and she’s lifting her clear into the air, and she’s crushing her so hard in glee all the air escapes from her lungs in a startled and breathless ‘oh my god’.

Pearl is having a baby, and the world is beautiful.

Sounds are coming from her mouth, feverish and so high-pitched they might not even be audible to human ears. She doesn’t care, her head so fuzzed with giddiness and elation over the fact that:

“You’re gonna be a mom, you’re gonna be a mom, you’re gonna be a mom-”

“Not- if you kill me- first-”

Her brain briefly registers the point, so Macy plonks Pearl ungracefully back onto the floor, where she struggles to regain footing. Macy’s mind continues to race, body practically shivering in excitement.

Pearl’s “jeeze, tell me how you really feel, why don’t you,” goes in one ear and out the other.

God, she was such a jerk to Chase yesterday, too. Is this what that whole confrontation was about? The fact that he was gonna give her sister a child? I held a knife to him, holy mother. I should have been, I dunno, thanking him? Holy CHRIST ON A BAGEL, MY SISTER AND HER FRIEND ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY.

That boy, that sweet sweet boy and his weird weird claiming of stuff, is going to turn him and Pearl into teenage parents. And that’s scary and wild and god they’re so young but in all fairness Chase is really just using his own stuff as he sees fit plus if he can claim that stuff maybe he can claim more and maybe it’ll all turn out okay? God, she hopes so. This is happening. This is really, really happening. And it’s terrifying and wonderful.

“…Mace, are you having an aneurysm?”

Is she? Maybe all these bizarre and fantastical changes have just imploded her brain. That seems plausible.

Pearl grabs Macy’s shoulder. “Oh my god calm down, you realize I’m the one who’s actually doing this? Having a baby?”

Of course she freaking does.

Deep breath in. Macy presses her palms together and brings them up to her chin. “Pearl.”

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Pearl Franzia Nowak, my dear sister, my bestest friend in the world.”

“…Uh-huh?”

She directs her joined hands in front of her. “You are going to conceive a child.”

“That is the plan, yeah.”

Steepled hands poke into her sister’s belly. “That child is going to grow in there for nine months.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so smart, Mace.”

They point towards the ground between Pearl’s legs. “It’s going to come out the bottom.”

“Thanks for that.”

“And then you will have to raise that child. For eighteen plus years. Twice your life from now. At least.”

Pearl swallows. “…Yeah.”

“…Do you really think you can do that? Do you really want to?”

Her sister looks at her. Macy can make out a thousand different feelings in that expression, in those eyes. Fear. Trepidation. Excitement. Passion. Worry and uncertainty, longing and delight.

The one that strikes Macy the most, though, is determination. It radiates off Pearl in waves, more than she ever knew she was capable of.

And one thing there isn’t any of, is hesitation.

“Yeah. I do.”

And then, they’re just two sisters standing in a changing room, on the precipice of the biggest life change either of them have ever faced. But she knows they’ll face it together.

Macy steps forward to hug her again, gentler this time. She presses her face into her sister’s shoulder.

In typical Pearl fashion, she pats her twice on the back. “You are so dramatic, you know that?”

“I just really love you, okay?”

Pearl softens and leans into the hug a little more. “…Yeah. Love you too.”