**The Portrait Swap**

Sure! Here’s your story, focusing on the feelings, friendship, and the thoughtful gesture: --- Brady flexed his stick, shifting from pose to pose for the camera. The photographer clicked, directing him: "A bit more left—look like you just scored the winning goal!" He tried to conjure the thrill of a win, his shaggy hair brushing his shoulders, then dropped the stick and grinned wide for his headshot. The session wrapped up quickly. Brady ducked into the locker room, tugging off his heavy gear, only half-listening to the others joking nearby. As he cinched his hoodie, he caught fragments of conversation echoing down the corridor. The cheerleaders, bright and energetic, were leaving together, voices bubbling with gossip. "It's such a shame Taylor's sick," one of them sighed. "She always gets the cutest yearbook photo. Now she'll miss out." "Yeah," another agreed, "her uniform’s just hanging in her locker." Brady leaned against the wall, frowning. Taylor was his best friend—since grade school, they’d laughed at how, with their long brown hair, matching hazel eyes, and similar builds, they could almost be siblings. They'd comforted each other through every awkward stage, and now, both juniors, they knew what little things mattered. He darted to the row of lockers, heart pounding with the seed of an idea. Taylor would hate to miss out. Her uniform hung inside, nearly identical to the one the other girls wore. Before he could second guess himself, Brady pulled off his hoodie and jeans, tucked his hair behind his ears, and reached for the uniform. He hesitated a moment at the sight of her neatly folded thong and sports bra, then, blushing, slipped them on, stuffing the bra for a more convincing shape. He pulled her snug, stretchy top over his head and shimmied into the matching knickers and pleated skirt, laughing softly at his own reflection in the little mirror taped to the inside of the locker door. It was uncanny how much he looked like her. He tugged his hair into two high ponytails, tying them with Taylor’s ribbons, did his best with a little mascara, tapped on blush, and added a swipe of lip gloss. He didn’t know much about makeup, but he hoped the photographer wouldn’t look too closely. When he finally looked in the mirror, he almost forgot he was Brady. For a second, it was just Taylor, ready to yell from the sidelines. He hurried to the gym, feeling strangely exhilarated—and grateful he wouldn’t have to do a cheer in front of the whole school. The photographer blinked, only glancing at his clipboard. "Taylor, right?" "Yep!" Brady chirped, mimicking the way Taylor always sounded bright and full of energy. "Great, let’s get your headshot and a full-body pose, please." Brady smiled big, feeling awkward but oddly proud. He thought about Taylor, sick at home, and tried to channel her confidence for the camera. The flash popped. He held the pom-poms high, just like he’d seen her do a million times before. By the time he changed back, adrenaline humming, he was already thinking of how he’d tell Taylor what he’d done for her. He couldn't wait to see her face—because she might just discover that sometimes, friendship means looking out for each other in the most unexpected ways. --- Would you like to continue the story to see Taylor’s reaction?

Jack adjusted the ribbon on the second ponytail, pulling it tight to ensure it matched the first one. His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of adrenaline as intense as it felt during a game. He had to make sure no one could tell it was him in his best friend Emma's uniform. He gave himself one final look in the mirror. "Not bad," he muttered to himself, adjusting the cheer top to sit just right. Jack knew he had to hurry—the photographer would be packing up soon, and he couldn’t let Emma miss another year’s portraits. It had been a blur of hurried decisions all sparked by the conversation he overheard. Jackie and Marissa, captains of the cheerleading squad, were lamenting Emma's absence due to her illness. It was then Jack decided he had to do something drastic. He shared a remarkable resemblance with Emma, almost like twins, a fact they'd both joked about numerous times over their years of friendship. With the ensemble complete, Jack took a deep breath and headed out of the locker room. As he walked down the school corridor, he tried not to make eye contact with anyone. The sharp click of his—no, Emma's—cheer shoes on the tiled floor echoed louder than he would have liked. Finally, he reached the gym where the photographer was still packing away equipment. "Excuse me, Mr. Sanders!" Jack called out, his voice careful to mimic Emma’s lighter tone. Mr. Sanders, the school photographer, turned around and smiled warmly. "Well, look who made it after all!" he greeted. "We thought you wouldn’t make it, Emma." Jack gave a shy nod, feeling a bit of color rise to his cheeks. "I wasn't feeling well, but I didn’t want to miss the photos," he said, hoping his voice didn't give him away. "Let's get you set up then," Mr. Sanders said, waving him over to the backdrop. Jack's pulse was racing as he followed the instructions, striking the poses he’d seen Emma perfect a million times during cheer practices. The headshot first. He tilted his head just so, the way Emma liked. He let a natural smile tug his lips, though he hoped it wasn’t too nervous. Mr. Sanders clicked the photo and gave an approving nod. "Alright, now for the full-body shot. Just hold the pose like usual," Mr. Sanders instructed. Jack took a deep breath and moved into the familiar stance—arms up, one leg bent slightly, and a wide cheer smile. Even wearing the uniform felt strange, the fitted fabric hugging his body in ways so different from his hockey gear. But he focused on Emma. For Emma. He had to make this as believable as possible. The camera clicked a few times, and then Mr. Sanders lowered it. "Perfect! You're all set, Emma. Wait until you see the pictures—they’re going to be great." "Thanks, Mr. Sanders," Jack said, trying to keep the relief out of his voice. He quickly gathered his sports bag, which still held his hockey gear, and ducked back into the corridor. The cheerleaders were still milling about, waiting for their own turn or chatting. He avoided their gazes, keeping his head down until he could safely return to the locker room. Once inside, Jack quickly changed back into his regular clothes and carefully placed Emma's cheer uniform back into her locker. The last thing he needed was for her to find out what he’d done in her absence. He washed the makeup off his face, took out the hair ties, and returned his hair to its usual messy state. As he finally left the locker room, he caught sight of Marissa and Jackie. They were chatting animatedly about something, but when they saw him, they waved. He waved back, a smile tugging at his lips. "Hey Jack, did you see Emma? She looked great in the photos, didn’t she?" Marissa called out. Jack just grinned. "Yeah, she did." He walked away feeling a sense of triumph. Emma wouldn't miss out this time, and she'd have no idea the lengths he’d gone to make sure of it. For Jack, that was the most important victory of all.