### *The Pool Party*
Jeff, still trapped in Emma’s body, felt his stomach twist into knots as he followed Emma—who was now striding confidently in *his* male body—toward the pool party. His arms were tightly wrapped around himself, his fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie like a lifeline. Beneath it, the bikini he’d been forced into felt like a humiliating brand against his skin. The soft fabric clung to his new curves, reminding him with every step just how foreign his body had become.
Emma, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of *his* life. He was walking like he owned the place, chatting casually with Susan and Betty as if he were just another one of the guys. Occasionally, he would glance back at Jeff with a mischievous smirk, a silent reminder of the game they were playing—one Jeff had little control over.
As they reached the poolside, Jeff hesitated. The place was packed. Dozens of their classmates were lounging on deck chairs, wading in the pool, or laughing in clusters near the snack table. Music blasted from a nearby speaker, the bass vibrating through the concrete. Jeff felt like a deer caught in headlights. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just strip down in front of everyone and pretend like nothing was wrong.
Emma must have noticed his hesitation because, suddenly, he was right beside Jeff, draping an arm over his shoulders in a way that sent an odd shiver down Jeff’s spine. "Come on, babe," Emma said, grinning. "*You* picked out that bikini, might as well show it off."
Jeff clenched his jaw. "I'm not taking this off," he muttered under his breath.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Feeling shy all of a sudden?" His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper behind it, something Jeff couldn’t quite place. "That’s not like *Emma* at all."
Jeff glared at him. "You’re enjoying this way too much."
Emma just smirked. "Relax. No one's going to notice anything weird as long as *you* don’t act weird. Just follow my lead." With that, he grabbed Jeff’s wrist and pulled him toward the group of guys hanging near the deep end of the pool.
Jeff stiffened. Being around the girls was already nerve-wracking, but standing next to a bunch of guys while looking like *this*? His face burned.
Emma, however, was having no trouble blending in. He was laughing, cracking jokes, even throwing an arm around one of the guys’ shoulders in that easy, confident way Jeff himself *used* to have. It was *infuriating*. But before Jeff could dwell on it, he felt a strong tug on his hoodie.
Emma had hooked his fingers under the hem and was pulling it up.
Jeff yelped, slapping his hands down to stop him. "What the hell are you doing!?"
Emma leaned in, his face only inches from Jeff’s. "Helping my girlfriend get comfortable," he whispered, his voice laced with amusement. "Unless you want people to start asking questions about why Emma's suddenly acting so weird."
Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Emma *moved*. Quick as a flash, he grabbed the hoodie with both hands, yanked it up over Jeff’s head, and tossed it onto a nearby lounge chair.
Cold air hit Jeff’s bare skin. His breath caught.
He was *exposed*.
The bikini clung to him in all the wrong ways, emphasizing the soft curves of his breasts, the slim dip of his waist, the smooth stretch of his thighs. He felt naked. *Completely* vulnerable. His arms instinctively crossed over his chest, his fingers digging into his own skin.
The guys barely batted an eye—why would they? As far as they were concerned, this was just Emma in a bikini. Nothing strange about that.
But *Emma*? Emma was looking at him differently now. His eyes swept over Jeff’s body, lingering just a little too long, his expression unreadable. And then, with that same cocky smirk, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
"Relax," Emma murmured, his voice softer now. "You're making it obvious."
Jeff swallowed hard. "I can't do this," he whispered, hating how *small* his voice sounded.
Emma tilted his head. "Yes, you can," he said simply. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on Jeff’s hips and pulled him in.
Jeff stiffened, his body pressing against Emma’s. He could feel the warmth of his *own* body against him, the strange reversal sending a jolt through his system. "What are you—?"
Emma didn’t answer. Instead, he *tilted Jeff’s chin up* and kissed him.
Jeff froze. His lips parted in shock as Emma deepened the kiss, his hands tightening on Jeff’s waist, pulling him flush against him. Jeff could feel everything—the press of Emma’s chest against his softer one, the strength in his grip, the way his fingers were subtly tracing along the curve of his hip.
His mind screamed at him to pull away.
But his body?
His body *melted into it*.
A soft, involuntary noise escaped Jeff’s throat, something *deeply* unfamiliar. His hands, which had been pushing against Emma’s chest, faltered. The sensations—the warmth, the pressure, the electric thrill running through him—were overwhelming in a way he *didn’t* expect.
Emma smirked against his lips. "Told you," he murmured. "You just need to stop fighting it."
Jeff’s face was burning. "Shut up," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
Emma chuckled and kissed him again—this time *harder*. Jeff gasped into it, and before he could react, Emma's hands *pushed*.
Jeff stumbled backward—right into the pool.
The water swallowed him whole.
For a moment, all he could hear was the muffled roar of the pool around him, the rush of bubbles against his skin. He kicked up, breaking the surface with a gasp.
Laughter erupted around him.
Emma stood at the edge of the pool, grinning like the devil himself. "Oops," he said innocently.
Jeff coughed, pushing wet hair out of his face. "*You asshole!*"
Emma just winked. "Come on, babe. Let’s have some fun."
Jeff glared at him, his body still tingling from *everything* that had just happened. He wanted to scream. He wanted to strangle Emma.
But most of all…
He wanted to kiss him again.
And *that* was the worst part of all.