**Summer Sibling Swap**

Sixteen-year-old Kayla had always simmered a little whenever her older brother Peter came home from college. He’d breeze in with barely-worn thrift store slacks and a suitcase full of freshly-laundered humility, asking polite questions over dinner and offering to do the dishes before anyone else offered. Their parents would smile and say, “Isn’t Peter such a grown-up now?” Which, of course, made Kayla want to groan. She did her share of chores—what made him so impressive? So Kayla watched Peter—his quiet confidence, his easy way with everyone, even how he managed to keep his goatee—a badge of his supposed college maturity—so neatly trimmed. She’d try harder to be like him, she resolved. But what if she really could step into his shoes? Or, more accurately, his tank top and scuffed-up sneakers? That’s how she found herself, weeks into his summer visit, standing in the bathroom mirror with a pile of scissors and determination, watching her long brown hair tumble into the sink. She flipped through a style inspiration photo pinged off Peter’s phone and did her best to match his tousled cropped look. But it wasn’t enough. Giggling with mischief, she gathered the softest locks and, using spirit gum, carefully attached them to her chin, trimming until she mirrored Peter’s precise goatee. Why stop there? Chest fuzz was dabbed on over her collarbone, then under her tank. Peter, she knew, always left his room unlocked. When she padded over, hoping to claim his “lucky” basketball shorts and faded college tank, she instead found him napping on the living room couch—mouth slightly open, a perfect victim. It was almost too easy: she snuck out the spare razor, shaving cream in hand, and set to work with all the delicacy of a thief. Smooth legs. Clean underarms. Bare chest. Even his precious goatee melted away under her careful touch. She grinned, then took out a palette of makeup, adding faint blush and mascara. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork—he looked oddly familiar with the swoop of her eyeliner and a dusting of glitter. Finally, she wriggled him into her favorite sundress and guided his sleeping arms into her cool pink cardigan. Her own transformation was almost complete; slipping into Peter’s clothes, she strutted into the kitchen. Neither parent batted an eye. “Could you help with these boxes, Peter?” Dad said. “Uh… sure,” Kayla replied in her best low, calm voice. Peter woke up groggily mid-dinner. He caught his reflection in the hallway mirror and let out a squeak. The evening went by in a blur of Kayla-in-charge: no one questioned while she fetched groceries or gamed with Peter’s friends online via his laptop. Peter, stuck in Kayla’s role, policed laundry and had to play with the neighbor’s yappy dog. He rolled with it, even if he couldn’t stop laughing at his brightly painted nails. When Kayla finally tried to peel off the beard, it wouldn’t budge. She tugged. She scrubbed. Nothing. As she scowled in the bathroom, Peter peered in, a mischievous, lipstick-smeared grin on his own face. “Looks like you really nailed the big brother act,” Peter chuckled. “Guess you’re stuck like that until it wants to come off. Woo, I needed a sibling break anyway—think Mom’ll let me off dish duty?” She groaned, but she couldn’t help giggling, even through the itchy hair stuck to her face. Maybe being the older brother was harder than it looked… but as she looked at her goofily grinning brother, she decided it was worth it. At least for a little while.

In the small, cozy town of Maplewood, Emma Dalton was struggling with an emotion she didn't fully understand. Her older brother, Jack, had always been the golden child: calm, collected, and the epitome of helpfulness. Now, home from college for the summer, Jack's presence seemed to cast a bright shadow on Emma, who felt like she could never measure up. One lazy afternoon, a spark of mischief lit up in Emma's mind. "What if I could be Jack for a day?" she mused, chuckling at the absurdity of it. But the more she thought about it, the more the idea intrigued her. If she could mimic Jack's demeanor and appearance, maybe she could understand what made him so effortlessly perfect. With newfound determination, Emma went to the bathroom and snipped her long, wavy hair to match her brother's short, tousled style. She gathered the trimmed hair and, using some spirit gum, carefully attached it to her chin, creating a neat goatee that mirrored Jack's. She did the same for her chest, crafting a replica of his sparse chest hair. Satisfied with her transformation, she grinned at her reflection. Stepping out of the bathroom, Emma noticed Jack napping peacefully on the couch, his breaths slow and even. The opportunity was too perfect to pass up. She tiptoed to his side, heart pounding, and with a practiced hand, shaved his legs, chest, underarms, and chin. The transformation was almost comical; her brother, ever the deep sleeper, didn't stir. Emma then applied a touch of make-up to Jack's now-smooth face, enhancing the feminine features, and dressed him in her bra, panties, and a floral dress. Despite the absurdity, Jack looked oddly convincing as a teenage girl. Now it was her turn. Emma grabbed Jack's clothes—a pair of boxers, basketball shorts, and a tank top—and put them on, feeling a surge of empowerment. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the tank top, and smiled. For the first time, she felt like she understood a slice of her brother's world. The rest of the day passed in a blur. Their parents, engrossed in their own activities, didn’t notice the switch. Emma reveled in the role of the older, cooler brother, enjoying the attention and curiosity from neighbors and friends. When evening came and the house began to wind down, Emma retreated to the bathroom to remove her disguise. She tugged at the beard but it refused to budge. Panic bubbled up as she realized that the spirit gum had created a firm bond. Frustrated, she tried warm water, soap—everything she could think of, but the beard remained steadfast. Just then, Jack knocked on the bathroom door. He had woken up earlier, utterly bewildered by his transformation but appreciated the humor in it. Now, seeing Emma's distressed expression, he couldn’t help but chuckle. "You wanted to be the older brother, didn’t you? Guess you’re stuck like this for a while." Emma huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine, but you’re not getting out of this either. You wanted to be the sister, so you’re staying like that too." The siblings shared a laugh, each secretly enjoying the other's perspective. Over the next few days, they navigated their mixed-up roles, learning patience, understanding, and a good dose of humility. Their parents, though initially baffled, eventually figured out the prank and joined in the lightheartedness, appreciating the playful bond between their children. In trying to walk in her brother’s shoes—quite literally—Emma discovered that her own were perfectly suited for her after all. And while Jack enjoyed a brief stint in her world, he learned that there were hidden complexities behind his sister’s seemingly carefree life. By the end of the summer, the Dalton siblings had grown closer, their playful mischief weaving a stronger, more understanding bond.