The Present, Part Five
Part Five
“You’ll wear your panties all weekend. They were a gift to you, remember? And like I just said–when you wear something, they’re yours.”
“I’ll wear my panties all weekend,” Chris echoed. He mirrored the emphasis in an attempt to show that it didn’t bother him, but couldn’t help but lightly blush at the possessive phrase nonetheless. It sounded worse out loud than it did in his head. And the fact that he was bottomless save for the pink, feminine underwear didn’t particularly help when it came to playing it cool.
“See, Chrissy?” Amy clasped her hands together with a big smile. “Was that so hard?”
“Chris.”
“Whatever.”
Amy abruptly turned and walked over to his suitcase, kneeling down to pilfer through it. When he asked what she was doing, she merely answered by retrieving a pair of his boxers and dangling it by her fingertips for him to see. Then she tossed it a few feet away. Since all his underwear had been packed in more or less the same area, it didn’t take long for her to do the same with the rest until there was a small pile sitting on the floor nearby.
Confiscating his boxers. Even if he could find a way to deal with the damning pictures she had taken, this would result in him having to choose between wearing panties and going commando. While there was probably some male underwear in the house despite how his uncle was currently on a work trip, Chris was shorter and thinner in comparison. Still, loose boxers would necessarily be the worst with jeans or something. Or, preferably, Chris could just WEAR HIS OWN UNDERWEAR.
What a concept.
And yet, he just stood there and watched as his younger cousin systematically removed every last pair from his suitcase. He knew arguing was pointless. Amy had a knack for twisting every word he said, and had proved as much downstairs. Could he just tackle her right then and there? That was probably the only way to get her phone away from her before she had a chance to save it to her computer or somewhere online, and his boxers would be as good as gone if he let her walk away with them. He could already imagine her playing dumb. ‘Are you sure you didn’t forget to pack them? Something like that. All while his underwear would be stashed away somewhere he’d never find in the unfamiliar house.
But violence obviously wasn’t the answer. While Amy was a personal exception to him in terms of the ‘no hitting girls’ societal rule, she would just scream and get help from his aunt or sister before he had a chance to make any real progress. That, and he had more weak spots as a guy if she opted to fight back and fight dirty instead. Plus he didn’t know her password. Plus she could have the kind of system where every picture, note, etc. is automatically synced elsewhere. Too many variables, most of which worked against him.
Instead, he did the only thing that he could think of that would at least somewhat work in his favor. Chris pulled on his shorts for starters, since standing around in panties wasn’t ideal. Then he took a few quiet pictures of Amy as she finished up with her hunt through his suitcase. Maybe that would be enough to prove that she was the one who took them if it came down to her word vs. his.
“Done!” she exclaimed, “Ugh, boy underwear is so gross. You should really be thanking me for the upgrade.”
Unlikely. He didn’t dignify the comment with a response.
Amy hopped back up with a smile, leaving everything as it was on the floor. She walked over to him and plucked the phone out of his hand with no warning. “Hey, Chrissy?” she asked. After carelessly throwing his smart phone into the nearby laundry hamper, she plopped down on his bed. “Julia and Sadie are coming over later today. You’re over that cute little crush of yours, right?”
“Amy!” Chris exclaimed. He couldn’t tell if he was more frustrated by the girly nickname, the phone, or the accusation. “It’s Chris,” he said, deciding he needed to address that one first.
The last time he saw Amy and her friends, he and Sadie found themselves alone in the kitchen at some point. Unbeknownst to him, Amy had instructed Sadie to act interested. So she had paid him special attention all day, with flirty touches and sideways glances. When they were talking in the kitchen, Sadie had placed a hand on his chest and giggled at something, he couldn’t remember what, and gazed up at him with those big blue eyes while leaning in a little bit.
So he had leaned in as well, to kiss her.
And the moment he did, she jumped back with a gasp and squealed “Chris!!” Just like that, she had darted away to tell the girls what he just tried to do, and they all teased him about it for the rest of the day. Amy had taken it a little farther, sending him a photo of Sadie every month or two; just some pic pulled from Facebook as a way to taunt him about the event from afar.
To his present comment, Amy just rolled her eyes. “When you wear girly underwear, you get a girly name. So. Chrissy. I think we should tell Julia and Sadie about your panties when they get here. Wouldn’t that be better than them finding out some other way?”
“No!” Chris exclaimed. Every time a new topic or obnoxious Amy action offered him a mental reprieve in terms of what he was wearing underneath his shorts, her words easily reminded him all over again. The mention of Julia and Sadie coming over had been bad enough when she mentioned the crush, but the idea of two cute girls thinking he wore panties was mortifying, even if they were girls he only saw once or twice a year.
“No?” Amy mused, giving him a teasing look, “Let’s start with this, then. What’s your name?”
Chris hesitated. He knew exactly what she was fishing for, but wouldn’t give it to her that easily. “If I say what you want, you promise not to tell them?”
“Tell them what?” she giggled, raising an eyebrow. This time, she let the question be rhetorical, rather than forcing him to say it again. “If you say what you know to be a more fitting name for you, we can talk about Julia and Sadie. Otherwise, I think we should just tell them right away and get it over with.”
“That’s-” He looked at her incredulously. That’s unfair. That’s illogical. That’s not what he ‘knew’ was a fitting name. Ugh, whatever. Her phone wasn’t out to record him, and no one else would hear it. “Fine. Chrissy.”
“The whole thing, dear cousin~”
“. . . My name is Chrissy.”
“I knew you’d come around!” Amy clasped her hands together in her familiar gesture, smiling wide as she met Chris’s eyes. “Okay, it’s decided. Your name is Chrissy. Now then,” she said, immediately moving on before he could protest the more official nature of her words, “Let’s talk. I think I have the perfect thing for you to do that will buy my silence.”