Despite having just been compelled to say a sentence, Jennifer still wasn't sure she fully believed in the Transform or Dare curse. "I don't care what your wish is," she said. "Just leave me out of it, okay?"
"Hmm," said Kyle on the other end of the phone. "No, I think I'll do the opposite. I wish that all wishes I make will change reality itself, unless I say otherwise, and that only you and I will remember the old reality."
"Great," said Jennifer, rolling her eyes at no one in particular. She hadn't really followed that -- sounded like typical nerd-speak. "Hey, I gotta go get dressed, and -- "
Kyle interrupted. "I wish all the girls at our school only wore sexy, feminine clothes - - such as skirts and dresses, no pants, and high-heeled shoes, no flats -- with no dress code issues."
"Okay, bye-bye," said Jennifer, finally hanging up the phone. She shook her head and resumed the search for her missing skirt, which she found 90 seconds later in the pile of clothes on the floor of her bedroom.
She grabbed a pair of pink panties from a dresser drawer and slid them on, then pulled the skirt up over them, smoothing a few wrinkles out with her hand. For a second, the skirt seemed a little shorter than it used to be, but then Jennifer giggled to herself and attributed that to the power of Kyle's suggestion.
And then, looking for her cheerleading sneakers, she opened the door to her walk-in closet. It was immediately obvious to her that her wardrobe had changed; some of the items were recognizable, but some weren't. She'd had a dozen pairs of jeans on hangers - - all missing, along with her capri pants. No traditional high-collared T-shirts -- they seemed to have become V-necks with very short sleeves, and looked like they'd let a bit of midriff show. She'd gotten what seemed like a boatload of new dresses, from glamorous prom gowns -- albeit very low-cut in the front and with very high slits in the skirts -- to minidresses that almost looked like they wouldn't be legal.
On the floor was her shoe rack. The pairs of heels she owned didn't appear to have changed, but her loafers, athletic shoes, flip-flops, and boots were gone, or at least altered into new heeled styles.
She marched to the phone, intending to call Kyle back immediately. But then she caught a glimpse of her bedside clock, and realized that if she didn't leave now, she'd be late.
Yanking off her one white sock -- actually, it had become a white stocking extending up to her thigh -- she hobbled back to the closet and stuck her feet into the least offensive shoes she could find, a pair of black sandals with low heels. "Good thing I just got a pedicure," she mumbled to herself as she buckled the straps as fast as she could.
Racing downstairs, she zipped into the 3-car garage, hopped into her red Mustang, backed out while the automatic door was only two-thirds of the way up, and sped toward East Hampton High, trying to remember if she'd ever seen Kyle hanging out somewhere before school, so that she could hopefully talk to him before class started.