Chapter 57: [11] A Rock & Family Vacation 11 [Mystery Rock Arc]

A Rock and Family Vacation

[11]

Of course, Lacy had to start really fussing and scratching at her hair. Brooke secured everything to the point she wasn’t worried it would just spontaneously pop loose or come undone. However, Lacy could be tenacious at picking things and not letting them go. Somehow, despite everything they did, and well-timed vaccination, Lacy still managed to catch chickenpox when she was young.

He viciously went at the blisters to the point that Brooke had to make him wear gloves and wrap him in towel-swaddled cold compresses. Whatever saved him from scarring. She wasn’t able to stop him from scratching his head though. And that indirectly led to the follicle study that her father put him in.

Research at the company speculated on whether they might be able to isolate genes and compounds that promoted alopecia resistance. Really, her father wanted a cure for all sorts of hair loss. His grandson‘s hair was a good candidate and Lacy received the encouragement that his hair was special, but it was just another one of grandpa‘s projects that didn’t go anywhere. Always chasing a cheap and easy fix. The next snake oil for her to market and sell.

With Lacy‘s hair taken care of, Brooke allowed herself an imaginary trip to some salon on the beach. Probably a bad business idea because of the salt water, but she craved it. Then throw in a full body massage and the absolute best treatment of her toes and cuticles and she could forget whatever was happening and whatever had to happen tomorrow to appease her father.

Whatever was changing about Blair now, the details were obscured by his now-oversized clothes. She still wasn’t going to turn this into something crazy clinical. Just the possibility of images of her children in any way compromised lit an angry fire inside her brain. One of her rules as a parent was no improper self-photography, especially shared. Fortunately, neither of her older boys seemed interested in that kind of thing. However, them acquiring questionable images was a place she didn’t want to go.

They each sat on a side of Blair along the big couch. The video transitioned to snowboarding with riding rails. Lacy glanced over every so often but didn’t appear especially interested. Brooke wanted to compliment Lacy, but she knew that whatever she might say would only make her feel bad and lying to say that she looked boyish or manly would hurt even worse. The most she could actually do to help was raise her middle child’s hair off her shoulders and leave her in peace. Deeply frustrating.

Blair seemed far smaller than she remembered him being in such a long time. What she could see of his arms were lengthy and narrow, just like hers but with a mottled tone innately Blair. His poor lips had also joined the puffy club with his younger sister and mother, but she thought they looked fine on his shifting face. Brooke considered hers like a duck’s fat lip, while Lacy had an even, rounded pout. What the damn rock was giving Blair seemed more like accenting with a colorful marker. His precious face though…

The heft and sturdy mass of his features had become slim, dainty, and slight. What they could see of his hips kept his pants from sliding further. Blair whimpered faintly in her state and shifted her legs. Brooke avoided speculation about what this meant. It certainly didn’t represent the conclusion of the changes as the slight but conspicuous parts of her chest became steadily more conspicuous. Lacy brought her hands up to her mouth and raised her slim eyebrows before muttering, “Oh my gosh. Blair! Wake up! Stop that!“

Her desperate words had no effect as the changes mounted greater and greater. When that acceleration finally slowed and came to a halt, Lacy adjusted her robe and glanced at her sibling. It appeared her new sister needed something helpfully loose even more than she did. She adjusted the sleeves but kept it on.

Brooke realized that she had something that Blair could probably wear. Every pound of her heart while she was away from her child felt like a countdown to some unknowable ruin. The robe in question was quite loose but a satiny number highlighted by cream and peach tones. She had no idea if Blair would tolerate it, but she brought it over just in case.

Her eldest would need something else in her range, a frustrating to find with the right band F to G cup. It stung, especially recalling the way her dad laughed once that if she had any daughters, then they would “probably come out with udders”. That was one of the few arguments where her mother stood up for her, even though she was apologizing to him by the next week.

Several more minutes passed without further shifts. A few more after that left Brooke confident that whatever was happening was finally done. The key difference was that Blair‘s typical snore returned to the flutter of her now-small nose. It wasn’t the squeaky bear so much as a rushing tone, like wind blasting through canyon pass, as though a strange spirit were trying to whistle. Lacy scrunched her brow and didn’t seem particularly pleased with the new nose noise.

Blair also gave signs that she wanted to bend her arm up but could only wiggle her shoulder, as well as tightening her legs in unconscious acknowledgment of their precarious position on the couch. She didn’t scowl but also didn’t appear particularly comfortable.

Before long, Lacy asked, her voice slightly above a whisper, “… Should we wake him up?” Brooke didn’t know. She thought about raising the volume of the television, which was barely loud enough to pick out most of the words with the assistance of the closed captioning currently on. However, Blair had managed to sleep through persistent phone alarms and several rousing rock ‘n’ roll tunes that woke his poor mother from several rooms away but left him still snoozing. The most Blair-like thing Brooke could imagine would be…

“Is…oh woah uh… it over? Weird. That’s my tone but not ahhh...waaaaauhh. Huh.”

“You sound like a girl”, Lacy declared with firm certainty. Blair cleared her throat a few times and coughed.

“Not especially. Jusssttt barely, I might say. Now what I know of music theory. Ugh… Nap phlegm.” Clinging to several different parts of her clothing, Blair scooted sideways until she reached the bend in the couch and could properly adjust her position. “Oh, that’s very different. Ohhh oh. That’s a lot.” It was easy to tell that Blair noticed the conspicuous qualities on her chest. Sitting up made them shift.

Leveling her head, Lacy shot off the next volley, “You are way bigger than me…girly.”

“Yep, bigger and still smarter. Bigger and still smarter bigger and still smarter… sounds very flat. How did you figure out how to naturally talk like a girl?”

“W-w-what?…” It half seemed like Lacy wanted to scowl at her elder sibling for a low-key slight but also held a dawning alarm that their voices as girls were noticeably different.

Rotating her jaw around slightly and practically whipping her tongue in her mouth like Brooke twisted Lacy‘s hair into a bun, Blair tried a few unintelligible sounds before settling on, “What wwaaat whhaaahht what wuuutt what whuuuttt bigger and still smarter aaaaaa… I talk about the same, but my dangly part is gone. I can make it flatter, but if I try to sound like a grandma then it gets a little bit closer.”

Brooke felt vaguely shell-shocked that everything was so normal, and Blair was acting like the changes to his body were just another quirky puzzle to manipulate and see what would happen. So, still the same Blair. Lacy clung to her indignation that Blair managed to instantly instill her voice with a flat, almost boyish feeling. “How come I can’t make my voice sound like that? I just sound like this and I’m not doing anything but the way I talk normally.”

Blair finally appeared to be moving on from the larynx to examining the narrow structure of her arms. “I don’t know, maybe you’re just naturally meant to be a girl or something, 'cause I’m just being me right now. Nice hairstyle, by the way.”

Immediately, Lacy’s eyes widened. She tightened her hands at her side into fists but pressed them down into the cushion. Brooke pushed up slightly from her part of the couch in anticipation.

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“… Take that back. You… Take that back…” The words were more strained and frantic than tough and deep like Lacy intended.

“All right, your hair sucks.”

“No, the other part. Take it back, Bessie Halston heifer!”

Brooke raised both her hands, as though she were before an orchestra, but she didn’t have a clue how to conduct. “Lacy… Blair.” The names didn’t really matter though, she already launched the last option with Lacy‘s middle name and Blair just laughed whenever anyone invoked his.

“You do realize it’s supposed to be Holstein, right? At least insult me correctly. Not a surprise, your bird’s nest brain falls apart at the word ‘girl’.”

“I AM NOT A GIRL!”

“You know what? Be in denial. Or you could actually deal.”

“WHY DID YOU DO THIS? It’s not for me. I’m more alone than ever. You just ruined everything. You should be screaming and hiding and yelling and bashing down the doors, tearing off your clothes and shoving a middle finger up up…whoever deserves it!” When she was finished it was like a storm silenced as simply as a candle blown out. She slumped on the couch and looked down at her hands.

Without restraint, hot curious tears spilled over her cheeks and overwhelmed her faintly glossy cheeks with red pain and rushing rivulets. Brooke wanted to be right there for her daughter to comfort her, but Brooke reached over and drew Lacy against her. The hug wasn’t binding, it clung around her shoulders and drew Lacy to Blair‘s chest. Lacy could’ve easily slipped out, but she brought her fists around Blair’s back and laid against her as shuddering sobs became bracing howls. It wounded Brooke’s soul to hear her child in such pain and do nothing.

The tempest eventually settled with Lacy muttering through Blair‘s chest, “You’re smothering me with your gross, ugly boobs.”

“Don’t worry. Tis a good way to die, since you’re already dead…”

Now Lacy pulled away, muttering, “Blargh, no. You’re such a freaking girl. Boobs have gone alien estrogen hive mind on you already.”

“Join us… Wear your skirt…”

“No. Never. Screw that. You go wear them for me!”

Blair braced herself against different parts of the couch and delicately got to her feet. “Not too weird but everything. But I don’t recommend getting a second dose of puberty like this. Oh, and mom, do you have something I can borrow which won’t fall off me?"

Brooke sized up Blair as she desperately endeavored to keep her pants up while avoiding the burying swath of her shirt. The robe was suggested but didn’t quite work. They would have to go looking for something else. Before she followed her mom over to the master bedroom to see, she noted to Lacy, “You can’t stay in a single, sweaty dad robe for the rest of your life.”

“I didn’t change or shower or wash anything for nine days straight.”

“I know. I still have my gas mask and mom‘s posies outside never recovered. Nor did Mrs. Grove’s poor dog.” Blair twisted a playful smirk across her face. Lacy accidentally let slip a giggle but followed it with a cough and a stern expression. “Get out of here, doofus. Go have fun with your bras.”

Still lingering a moment, Blair noted, “I wasn’t teasing you when I said you’re beautiful. Or that you should do modeling.”

“Geez, just shut up…” Lacy responded half-heartedly. Blair persisted, “What would be so bad? We find a good photographer who respects you. You get to be insanely creative without even thinking about it. Gotta be like your dream. Everyone at school follows you online, knows your name, and you still just get to be yourself. Because fashion ain’t just skirts. Be the alternative girl, mix it up in boys' clothes with confidence. Anything you want. Punk or pretty. Just be you.”

Lacy listened and looked consummately bored and annoyed. But, for the twinkle of an instant, for barely a single frame that would appear in some film, her eyes shifted upwards in thought. Her look of animosity waned, and the faintest ghost of a curious smile tickled her features.

“Oh, fart off. Take your freaking phone and make sure you saved your stupid video.”

[I have a question at the end of the chapter again to help with suggestions for where the story should go. I'm a couple chapters ahead but I love seeding ideas from people as much as possible. Feel free to add an idea which doesn't show up in the options. Thank you for reading!]

Poll below

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