Agree to be his "Practice Girl"

“F-fine,” you say, your words coming quickly, before you can change your mind. Immediately it’s as if a weight leaves your chest. Guilt is a powerful thing, you think to yourself, but a clear conscience isn’t much of a comfort when you think about what you’ve just agreed to: be Jessie’s little “practice girl”.

Thinking about it makes you balk again. You try to open your mouth to take your words back, but suddenly you feel strong male arms wrap around your slim form.

“Thank you,” Jessie gushes. “Thank you so much! I knew I could count on you!”

The scent of him, the feel of his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, just above your dress, his hands on the small of your back… It’s just too weird, and you struggle to break free. Eventually, after an embarrassing amount of wriggling, you do, but you’re shocked to realize how much effort it took. You slump against the wall, feeling exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Jessie asks. “Is it the medicine again?”

“I’m… fine…” you pant.

“You’re sure? The book did say being hugged makes you weak.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not actually a girl doofus. Don’t you forget that.”

“Well, it’s hard to remember sometimes--you really do look like a girl.” You open your mouth to protest but Jessie talks over you. “But you don’t look like Tara yet.”

“Tara?”

He blushes. “She’s the… girl I like,” he says, “The one you’re going to pretend to be. She has a very specific look…” He reaches into his pocket, takes out his smart phone, and says. “Look, I’ll email a photograph to Sara’s laptop in her room. Why don’t you head up there and change, then meet me at her lab in ten, okay?”

“Wait wha-“ you say, but with a wave Jessie is past you, rushing down the steps and whistling a happy tune.

“Just great,” you mutter.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice from behind you:

_ * Perhaps I can be of assistance? *_