The irritated blonde girl deliberately smacked her lips together as she chewed her gum. She was angry but somehow she managed to look even cuter when she was. It was that very rare level of cute that let her get away with almost anything. And as she stood there chomping away in the clubhouse, Shannon could not have been more displeased.

She sighed. "We have to do this again tomorrow?"

Her cousin nodded emphatically.

"Who invented these stupid pants anyway? Didn't they know it got hot in the summer? It's like a thousand degrees in here, and outside it's—ugh!"

Lance looked at her damp, white baseball pants. The porous material wasn't designed for absorbing sweat, at least not that much sweat. But it was the summer camp training t-shirts with their long sleeves that really made life miserable. They just sucked up all the moisture they could until they were saturated and nearly impossible to separate from skin. It was only with great effort that Shannon managed to peel the shirt off her stomach and tie it in a knot. Little wet streaks ran down the smooth, tanned skin near her belly button.

She caught her cousin staring. "What? Want me to do yours too?"

"What? No, I don't think so," the shy boy said.

The pink bubble floating in front of Shannon's lips suddenly burst. She let the gum hang there while she eyed the boy for a while before finally sucking it in. "Why not? You chicken? Oh come on, they already think we're twins anyway. They might get confused if we suddenly stop matching," Shannon said sarcastically.

He narrowed his light gray eyes and stared at her. But she stared right back. Except for her obnoxious chewing, it was like looking in a mirror and neither of them had gotten used to it yet since Shannon had come to visit. Their high cheekbones were dotted with freckles, their noses were small and thin, and they even shared the same fair complexion that turned a perfect shade of brown in the summer.

But Shannon still seemed to one-up him in every category. She was always just one better. Her eyes were lighter, her hair blonder, she was one inch taller, and she was even one month older. More than anything though, Shannon was louder. That's what intimidated him the most. She very casually rubbed her hand over her stomach and wiped it on the seat of her pants.

"Are you always like this?" he asked.

"Like what? Sweaty and gross? I hope not."

"I was going to say 'annoying', or maybe 'self-centered', or how about..."

Shannon rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't pretend that you're not loving every second you're seen with me. And how do you think I feel, huh? What do I get out of this? I have to spend my whole summer here, with you, in this place..."

"I thought they'd have A/C in here at least," he mumbled.

Her face suddenly lit up. Shannon brought a hand to her mouth and whispered, "I don't think they can afford it. On the way up here, my dad was trying to teach me about baseball, and, like how many games they play and all of that. He showed me their record from last year, and then he got real quiet."

Lance peered anxiously through the open door of the clubhouse. "Shh! Don't let the coach hear you, I don't want to get fired. My dad will kill me."

"Wait, that's a bad thing? I mean, not you dying, but getting fired?"

But it was too late. A gruff voice answered from a dingy little room down the hall and wiped the smirk off of Shannon's face, "I can hear you, you know. Shouldn't you be getting everything ready for the guys? They're almost done out there."

She very bravely glared toward the sound of his voice and stood at attention. Another bubble swelled up in front of her face as she saluted.

Lance elbowed her. "Clubhouse first, then the showers—just like you showed us, Coach."

Shannon elbowed him back and called him a coward. He swatted her arm and pointed out that she didn't need to wear her shirt like that, and that she was only doing it to get attention from the boys.

"I'm burning up! And so what if it's cute, I can't help it!" Shannon snapped.

The cousins lunged at each other. Their hands flew through the air and latched onto damp clothing and slippery flesh. Pushing and pulling, they tried to keep the other at arm's length, but their sticky, seventeen-year-old bodies soon found each other and came together. Lance grunted as he fought for control, as he tried to get behind his cousin, but his fingers kept slipping on the slick surface of her back.

"Stop it!" Shannon hissed.

"You stop!"

"Both of you stop it!" the coach growled. "Seriously! I'm not here to babysit. What is wrong with you two? Just... Just get along, Jesus!" The man took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "Lance, I owe your dad a favor. But that doesn't mean I can't fire you. Understand?"

When Lance paused to consider, Shannon pounced. She snuck in behind him, pressed her chin into his collarbone, and coiled her arms around his tummy. He immediately knew he'd been beaten and any further attempt at shaking her off would be futile, so he stopped fighting and accepted his fate.

Lance tried to sound dignified, like he wasn't being subdued by a pretty, teenage girl. "Yes, Coach, we understand."

"Fucking elves..." the man mumbled under his breath. He took a breath before continuing, "Just do me a favor, please don't make me fire you. That's all I ask. Just do the bare minimum. Do you think you can do that?" But before either of them could say anything more, the door to his office slammed shut.

Shannon ducked. She tightened her grip around her cousin and eyed the old light fixture that wobbled above their heads.

"Jeez, what's he so mad about?" she asked.

Lance wiggled his hips, but his cousin held on.

She lowered her voice to sound like the fat man who had been barking orders at them all day. "Get out there, hustle! Now! Move it, move it! Grab the balls, hurry! Pick up the bats. Faster! Faster! Well, maybe they shouldn't throw the bats so far if they need them so badly!"

"Yeah, I don't understand baseball," Lance admitted.

"It's gotta be so boring for them. We were seriously the only people doing anything out there. Everyone else was just standing around."

"Except for the guys chewing gum, they looked busy," he pointed out. Then, he turned his head. It startled him when his cheek bumped into the soft, wet skin of Shannon's face. "Shannon?" he croaked.

"What?"

"Are you going to let me—"

"Can you believe he called us that, though? Oh my God, rude!" she shouted over him.

He looked down. Shannon's fingers were interlocked and wrapped around him like a seatbelt. He swallowed. "What did he call us? Oh, elves? Yeah, what did he mean by that?"

She raised a bushy, blonde eyebrow. "Really? No one's ever called you that before?"

"What? No, of course not. Why would they?"

"Well, first of all, they're just jealous. And second—" she rolled her eyes "—they're, I dunno, maybe a little bit right."

Lance, now genuinely confused, turned his head a little further until their pointy noses came together. A bead of her sweat spilled onto his lips. His voice cracked. "I, uh—huh?"

She paused a moment, staring cross-eyed at the bubble slowly inflating between their faces. The fruity pink gum crept toward him. It got within less of an inch of his nose before it began to slowly deflate. Shannon sighed, visibly upset that its conclusion wasn't more sensational. She even sounded a little irritated. "Really? You haven't noticed that you're, you know—oh come on! Our hair? Our eyes? Hell, even our bodies—think about it. We're just kind of, I dunno, pretty? The only thing missing is pointy the ears. Haven't you seen any of those movies? "

He bobbed his head up and down, pretending to understand her, but Lance didn't register a single word. He was distracted. Shannon still hadn't let him go. He probably could have torn himself free, but instead, he just stood there. He was acutely aware of her soft hands pressing into his tummy, the way her small chest mashed into his back, and even the scent of her stupid gum. That's what worried him. A girl had never made him feel like that before, and certainly not a cousin.

"You have to admit it's kind of funny, though," Shannon said.

"What is?"

She raised one of her thick, blonde, brows. "Seriously? Keep up, Lance! You know... That your dad sends you here, to work in this place for the entire summer? That's not weird to you? Come on! He totally wants to make you into a man, but maybe he didn't know there were so many cute boys here."

His heart stopped. His brain stopped working. She'd been living with him for less than a week and had already figured out something that he'd kept secret his whole life. His parents still had no idea, and at school, he talked about girls just like all the other guys. But his bimbo cousin wasn't fooled. She wasn't wrong about any of it. He liked boys.

It should have put him at ease to finally get it out there, and more than anything, it meant there shouldn't have been any confusion or second thoughts about the way this pretty girl just entered his personal space and set up camp there. But it made him feel weird and uncomfortable—not because they were related, but because she excited him. He could feel his heartbeat and worried that any second now she would too. He almost wanted to curse his body for not listening to him, like if he swore at his crotch long enough, the biological reaction beginning to take root in his pants would stop and maybe even apologize for not respecting his identity. Thankfully, Shannon let him go.

Lance rubbed at his stomach and took a breath. He was old news. Shannon was already onto something new. She squinted. Her eyes settled on something shiny across the clubhouse and a second later she had Lance by the hand and was dragging him to the far side of the room.

He knew his cousin was beautiful, and he also knew she was popular. Everyone they'd met so far seemed to take an interest in her and, within seconds, appeared to be ready and willing to do anything she'd ask. She didn't do anything to earn it either, or promise anything, or even cast a spell on them, but still, Lance was sure that if she asked for their wallets, they'd just hand them over.

As he trailed behind her, he finally saw what they all saw. The white material of Shannon's baseball pants had become damp and translucent to the point that her skimpy, dark panties were showing through. But even if that wasn't the case, her tight pants hardly stood a chance of containing her figure. It fascinated him, nearly mesmerized him, the way her cheeks swayed under her pants, and the sound her wet, sticky thighs made as they swished together with each step. He crashed into her when she stopped abruptly in front of a tall, floor-standing mirror.

"Oh my God!" she hissed.

"Sorry, I—"

"—Just watch where you're going!" she said. Then, her voice shot up an octave. "Hey, hey! What are you doing?"

Shannon was never in any danger of falling, but Lance reached forward and caught her anyway. He couldn't explain why he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her in. Maybe it was just a test to dispel this crazy notion once and for all that he was somehow attracted to girls. Besides, she had done this to him just moments earlier so maybe this was revenge.

Just when he thought he had her though, Shannon gripped the sides of the mirror, leaned forward, and pressed her butt into his stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of him. Lance coughed. He found it hard to breathe but that only made him more determined. He lowered his chest down onto her back and tightened his grip around her waist. The damp, sticky material of their pants came together as he pressed himself into her from behind. The pretty blonde girl grunted when his arm slipped.

It slid over her ribs and settled against the bottom of her small breasts. When her hard nipples pricked the sensitive skin of his forearms, Lance's penis twitched. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. His chest felt tight. It would be only a matter of seconds before the harmless mass of flesh dangling between his thighs began to fill out and rise on its own. He knew how hard it could get, and he worried that the second it stabbed into the firm flesh of her behind, she would turn around and laugh.

"What are you doing?" she huffed. "Stop it!"

"No, you!"

She lowered her shoulders and wagged her hips side to side in a weak attempt to dislodge him. His arms still slipped though, and his hands fumbled over the slick surface of her tummy. But she was never in danger of getting away. It's almost like she was doing it on purpose, bending over him in front of him like she was intentionally trying to prove the young, gay boy liked girls. Shannon didn't even groan or complain as the hem of her pants began to dip below her hips. She just pressed harder into her cousin until he began to panic.

Lance inhaled. Her fruity scent wafted up through his nose and nearly paralyzed him. She even somehow smelled like a brat, like a gorgeous, teenage brat. He felt tingling between his legs and glanced down. Beyond all the sweaty, tanned skin of his cousin's back was a hint of her panties. But even those were sitting an inch below where they should have been. The sensitive, private skin that never saw the light of day was being unveiled right before his eyes. Another twitch in his pants. The normally flat, pristine surface of his uniform had become warped, and at any moment Shannon would feel the little bump jutting out in the front. Just before it brushed up against the back of her thighs, Lance let her go. He loosened his grip and took a cautious step back.

She didn't jump up, or elbow him, or pursue it any further. Shannon just exhaled long and slow through her nostrils before rising and facing herself in the mirror. She didn't even make eye contact with him as she casually tucked her hair back into her cap and brushed herself off. Her fingers pinched her soggy shirt and began to re-tie the knot, although to Lance it appeared there had been nothing wrong with it in the first place.

This time, though, she tied it much higher, and he could see the colorful material of her bra poking out from her shirt. It was the same color as her panties, and now in the same, immodest state. Shannon had either forgotten or was too hot to bother with adjusting her pants. Lance noticed though. He eyed her backside, imprinting all that exposed flesh into his young, confused brain forever.

Finally, he brought his head up.

It took him a while, but he finally found something to stay—something he thought a normal teenager would say in this situation. He tried to sound calm too, as dignified as a breathless seventeen-year-old boy could, but his voice still cracked. "You seriously dragged me all the way over here for this? So you could see yourself in the mirror?"

She leaned in and checked her teeth and peered up her nose. "Hello? Look who's talking. Seriously, do you see yourself?"

"I'm sorry I don't obsess over myself like you do."

"Well, maybe you should. You look terrible. Seriously, I've never seen you so gross—and so comfortable being so gross. Are you OK?"

Lance shook his head but wasn't able to force out the bizarre string of thoughts he'd been having. He stood up tall and smoothed his hands over his damp shirt, straightening it out as best he could. But it still just stuck to his skin just like Shannon's did. His pants were no better than hers either. But he'd at least played baseball before and knew to wear something sensible underneath, something that wouldn't shine through like a beacon. Suddenly, Shannon stomped her foot. She even stopped chewing for a moment.

"Ugh! Why do I look like a boy!" she complained.

Lance's eyes went wide. "Huh? What are you crying about now?"

"Really? The fact that I barely have any boobs? I'm... I'm basically like you. I'm a boy."

His natural instinct was to look right at her chest, point with his finger, and tell her that her breasts were the perfect size. They weren't oppressively large, they didn't shake and jiggle around her chest when she walked, they just fit her perfectly. But after a few seconds of gawking like an idiot without uttering a single word, Lance closed his mouth. His cheeks turned red and he looked away.

Shannon rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you're no help, you know that? I thought gay boys were supposed to be good at this sort of thing."

"That's not very nice, and wait... Good at what?"

"You know, helping me feel better about myself. Like, you're supposed to tell me how nice my boobs are, and how nice my butt looks even in these crummy pants, and all of that." Shannon tapped her foot impatiently. "Well? Why are you just staring at me?"

It looked like the button on the front of her pants was barely hanging on. "No, you're right, you're uh... I mean, you know, there's like nothing wrong with your, uh..."

Shannon cupped her breasts and adjusted them through her shirt. "Really? These boobs? You can barely see them! I can tell by the way you're squinting!"

The red-faced boy felt the problem in his pants getting bigger. He pressed his...