Chad 2 Cheryl (Jock 2 Cheerleader Part 1) (Patreon)

Bit of a longer one here for you guys, so, get comfy with your snacks. I see this as a three part story, with the next part being the drama and then part 3 the finale. If you like this one, let me know. Chad 2 CherylHe rests up against the locker, jacket open, smile on his face, and he leans in.

“Chelsea, when are you and me going to do the dirty, huh? Stop being so boring and get on the Chad-train already. I know you want to.”

He raises a single eyebrow before reaching a hand down to her side, placing it upon her side.

“I don’t wanna have to force you, but this is the natural order of things here. The prettiest girl always gets with the most handsome alpha male. Plus, come on, we literally live next to each other. It’s fate….no—destiny, my little honey, that we get together.”

“Don’t touch me,” Chelsea says, clutching her books. She tries to pull back, but he keeps her close.

“Why you gotta say something like that, girl…?” Chad leans close enough for her to smell the chicken nuggets on his breath. “I told you, this is the natural order. I’m the star player, and you’re the head cheerleader. It’s only natural for a little honey like you to want me.”

“Chad, stop!” Chelsea wrestles herself free from his embrace. “We aren’t cavemen. I told you I’m not interested. Now go beat some other girl over the head with that club of a pointy chin, you jerk, and leave me alone.”

“Chelsea…. ouch.” Chad looks away, biting his bottom lip, before leaning yet closer. “You keep acting like this, then I’m going to have to get nasty, and I promise you, pretty honeys like you don’t wanna see me get nasty.”

As if to underline his words, he puts a hand on her side, drawing a startled squeak from her. Chelsea freezes, locked into his gaze, and suddenly there’s no mistaking it. He means exactly what he’s saying.

“Oi, Chad! Get off her, you blockhead!”

Chad looks up from Chelsea and finds Jannet standing right there, pouting so hard she looks ready to combust, steam practically shooting from her ears at what she’s just witnessed.

“What is it?” he asks, waving her away with his free hand. “Can’t you see me and my girl are having a special moment?”

“Get off her!” Jannet hisses, pushing with all her might. “Otherwise, I’ll give you a special moment right in the balls!” She shoves him a second time. “Back off right now or I’ll get a teacher!”

“Alright, alright…” Chad steps back, running a hand through his hair before leaning casually against a locker, a lazy smile on his face. “You girls are so serious. I’m only playing.” He clicks his tongue and straightens, looming over Jannet, who’s a full foot shorter. “What, you don’t have a sense of humor?”

Not backing down, Janet squares up to him. However, Chad meets her glare with a teasing smile before placing a single finger on her forehead to easily push her away.

“Get out of my way,” he says casually, knocking Jannet with his shoulder as she moves past. “I don’t wanna catch cooties from you, ugly.”

Flustered, Jannet swipes at his hand, only to miss as he moves his arm away. “Asshole!” she grunts, blowing hair from her eyes.

“Takes one to know one,” he straightens his jacket and fixes his eyes on Cheslea. “This ain’t over, baby girl. You’re coming to the dance with me; it’s already been decided. The prettiest girl and the alpha male always go together. You mark my words.

His stare sharpens into something cold and threatening, then instantly melts back into a smile. He greets a passing football player with a high five and walks away as if nothing happened, leaving the two girls seething in his wake.

As he disappears around the corner, fist and chest bumping other boys from the team, Jannet rushes to Cheslea’s side. “A-Are you okay!? Do you want me to take you to a teacher?”

“I’m fine…” Chelsea clutches her books tighter, tears misting her eyes. “I just wish that jerk would listen. I’ve said no every day this week, and he just won’t get the picture.” Chelsea wipes at her eyes. “W-What do I have to do to get it across to him. I wish he knew just how much anxiety and stress he’s causing me!”

Chelsea stamps her foot, wiping angrily at her tears as she looks out the window. “I just wish with all my heart that he understood how he makes me feel.”

Still looking out of the window, Jannet throws her arms around her. “I know, girl, I know. The guy wouldn’t last one minute if the shoe were on the other foot.”

With a sniff and a small whimper, Chelsea leans into Jannet’s embrace. She barely has time to steady herself before her hand lifts toward the window, freezing midair as something hovers just outside it. Her eyes bulge.

“I-I…. I just saw a blue fox flying past the window, Jannet!” she exclaims, voice cracking in disbelief.

Jannet softens her embrace to look back over her shoulder and out the window. “W-What?”

“Yeah, just now. A blue fox like this was just there, looking at us. R-Really creepy”

Jannet smiles softly before fixing Cheslea’s hair by tucking strands behind both of her ears. “Are you sure you’re okay? I really can take you to a teacher or to the nurse's office if you like?”

“No…” Chelsea rubs at her eyes, stares at the window for a moment, then forces a smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Let’s just get to class already before blockhead himself comes back with some engagement ring he got out of a cracker and asks me to marry him.”

The next day…

“Chelsea…”

“Chelsea…..”

A small rock rattles against the window, and Chelsea’s eyes snap open. She bolts upright in bed, hair tumbling into her face, disoriented and drooling a little.

“Chelsea!” a soft voice cries out in the distance. “Chelsea, wake up!”

Yawning, she stretches out her arms before tying back her hair into a ponytail. Looking at her alarm clock, it reads five in the morning.

“Chelsea!” the voice calls out again, this time even more desperate.

Getting up, Chelsea trudges over to her open window, pulls back the blind, and stares out, expecting a bird or something to be sitting on her windowsill. However, from across the gap between Chelsea’s home and Chad’s house, a girl stands in the window, waving her arms around like a lunatic.

Cheslea narrows her gaze, unsure of what she’s seeing.

“Chelsea!” the voice almost breathes a sigh of relief. “You’re still you, thank god! I-I…I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening to me. Everything’s different! I’m different!”

Fixing eyes with the young, fiery redhead ranting from across the gap, Chelsea scoffs. “Urgh, girl, do you have no shame. Chad is such a pig. If you slept with him, that’s your own fault!”

“Amazing!” the girl gasps in delight. “Y-You remember me. I-I…I haven’t disappeared from this world like everything else about me has!”

“What are you on about?” Chelsea scoffs at the girl, leaning to one side and rolling her eyes. “If you’re in his bedroom at this time in the morning, wearing one of his shirts and clearly regretting the decision to give your body to that jerk, then that’s not my problem, whoever you are. Stop shouting out, otherwise you’ll wake my parents!”

About to shut the window and draw the blinds, the girl becomes agitated, her hands pressed to her chest. “Chelsea!” she yells, squealing at the touch of her own body. “Please, help me! I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happened to me!!”

“You slept with a pig called Chad,” Cheslea retorts sarcastically, surprising even herself as she’s about to close the window tight.

“I didn’t sleep with him!” the girl yells, pulling her red hair in pure frustration. “Chelsea, I AM CHAD! I’ve transformed into a girl! You’ve gotta help me!!”

Unbothered, Cheslea gives the girl a wry smile and a little wave goodbye before sliding the blinds across, shutting out the light. One long sigh later, Chelsea jumps face-first onto her bed and covers herself.

“He’s such a jerk…” she grumbles into the pillow. “She must be the prettiest girl in school…” She imitates him, exaggerating every syllable for effect.

Later that morning…

Hair brushed, makeup done, linen midi skirt pressed, and blouse tucked in neatly, finished with a nice garter belt, Chelsea greets her mother at the breakfast table. “Morning, Mom.”

“Hiya, sweetheart. You’re up late this morning.”

“I know…” Chelsea sits at the table in front of her morning yoghurt. “Blame Chad for that. I had his a conquest of his calling out my name from his bedroom window at five this morning…urgh.”

Silence as Chelsea takes a spoonful.

“Chad?” her mother asks, entirely lost as she sips at her coffee. “Do you mean Cheryl?”

“Umm….” Chelsea holds the spoon to her mouth, gawking at her mother. “N-No…Chad. Chad from next door, Mom.”

“Oh…” Cheslea’s Mom smiles. “Is that Cheryl’s new boyfriend?” She stops and leans forward, interested. “Tell me, dear. Why aren’t you and Cheryl chatting anymore? I had her mother over yesterday, asking what’s happened between you both. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Chelsea slowly lowers the spoon of yogurt, blinking at her mother like she’s in a daze. “Mom… who is this Cheryl?” she asks, blunt and confused.

“Don’t be like that,” her mother tuts with a single shake of her head. “It’s not becoming of you, young lady. You know exactly who I mean, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

All mixed up, Chelsea pokes at her yogurt, thoughts drifting back to the morning’s chaos. “Mom,” she says hesitantly, “does… anything feel different to you this morning?”

“I guess it’s a little warmer today. Is that what you mean?”

“N-No…” Chelsea gently rests the spoon in the bowl. “You really don’t know who Chad is?”

“Oh sweety…” her mother leans back in her chair. “You really didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

Chelsea glances off as she bites down on her tongue. “Would seem so…” she says vacantly, before forcing a smile, standing, and tucking in her chair. “I-I’ll see you later, Mom, okay. Bye.”

Lost in thought, Chelsea gathers her school bag, steps outside her home, and stares at Chad’s house. As she walks down the drive, she doesn’t stop staring, looking at Chad’s window the entire time.

The window is closed, curtains drawn tight. Chelsea stops, eyes on the driveway, replaying the redheaded girl’s words from that morning. Confused but intrigued, she steps forward and heads straight for the front door.

A knock later, and the door opens to Chad’s Mother, who, at first, is surprised to see Chelsea, but soon greets her with a warm and friendly smile.

“Hello, dear,” Chad’s Mom leans casually on the door frame. “Wasn’t expecting you to be knocking. Do you wanna talk to Cheryl? Maybe you can sort whatever sillyness is driving you apart?”

“Chad?” Chelsea probes… curious about the response.

“Interesting…?” She replies with a slightly tilted head. “Are you fighting over a boy called Chad?”

Chelsea grins so wide it’s almost painful, nodding like she’s faking confidence. “No… s-sorry. Erm…” She scrambles for the name from breakfast. “Umm… Cheryl… is she, uh… in? Or did she go to school already?”

“She’s upstairs. If you’re planning on dragging that little mare out of bed, you might be in for a bit of a fight.” She chuckles. “She woke up screaming this morning, then went on a whole rant about some… person called Chad. Anyway, sorry if all the shouting woke you up earlier.”

“Err, yeah. “ It’s okay,” Chelsea’s eyes grow wider before she fixes her expression into a smile. “Can I go up?”

“Sure…” Chad’s Mom steps aside but nervously rubs at her arm. “Be careful, Chelsea, she might bite, and I know you two haven’t been the best of friends in recent times.”

Chelsea makes her way upstairs. Guessing as to which room is Chad’s, although when she comes across a door with a pink flower with the name Cheryl written on it, it’s obvious. Bracing herself with a steady breath, Chelsea knocks.

“Go away,” Cheryl groans through the door.

“It’s me, Cheslea.”

“Even worse! Go away,” Cheryl insists.

Chelsea gathers herself. “Chad, let me in already. Things are weird.”

Silence before soft footsteps scurry towards the closed door. Slowly, it opens, and a disheveled young woman peeks out of the crack in the door.

“W-W-What did you just call me!?”

“Chad. I called you, Chad. Which weridly, I think is your actual name…”

The door flies open, and the girl from this morning, looking as though she’s been crying, stands in the doorway. The shocked look on her face is almost tinged with relief.

“Y-You remember me!? N-No else does! I-I felt like I was going crazy!”

Chelsea is hesitant to step into the room and keeps her distance. Probing the situation, she looks the girl up and down before asking. “What is it that I remember exactly?”

“I’m Chad!” the girl sticks both thumbs to her chest. “I’m Chad. You remember me, right!? Tell me you do!? Tell me I’m not going crazy!?” The girl pulls at her long hair, gritting her teeth. “Please! You remember me!? Captain of the football team, Chad!”

Still staring, Chelsea looks into the girl's blue eyes, who is frantically pulling at her hair, and decides a test is required. She can barely believe what the pretty girl in front of her is saying.

“About two months ago, a certain ‘Chad’ stole something from me and then proceeded to parade it around the school like a trophy….”

Cheryl’s face burns bright with embarrassment, preempting Cheslea’s question.

“…What did he steal from me?”

She lowers her head. “I stole your gym bra,” she replies, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

“And did what with it?” Chelsea asks forcefully, feeling the anger of that day welling in her chest.

“Hung it on my car aerial like a…flag….”

Chelsea’s eyes widen instantly. “Fuuuuuck…” She storms past her, barging into the room, weaving around Cheryl, and starts frantically looking around. The room is messy, with clothes strewn around the place, but it’s very much a woman’s bedroom, complete with a vanity desk.

“Chad!?” Chelsea gasps, picking up a loose bra from the floor and holding it up in shock. “What the fuck is going on!? Why are you a girl!?”

“Y-You believe me….” Cheryl almost begins to tear up as she slowly closes her bedroom door.

Chelsea just stares, mouth open in shock. “Y-Yeah. I remember you’re a fucking jerk, Chad. But I don’t remember you ever looking like that!” Chelsea points at her, then looks at the bra in her hand. “Or you ever having to wear one of these!? What the hell!?”

Ashamed, Cheryl rushes over to the bed and jumps onto it, curling herself up in the covers to hide from it all.

“I woke up like this.” Cherly whines, poking out just her head from the sheets. “I woke up with girly hair, a girly figure, and girly bits and this girly room. No one believes me, Chelsea. No one believes me that I’m a guy. I’m the star player on the football team, not this…!”

Cheryl kicks out in frustration, whining as she yanks her hair out of her face. After a moment, she curls up into a fetal position on the bed, staring out the window in sulky silence. “I’m a guy….” She sobs quietly.

Watching her sob on the bed, Chelsea can’t help but feel like he deserves it. She remembers her wish yesterday, but doesn’t think it is wise to bring it up. However, curious, she starts to look around Cheryl’s room, first drawn to the pictures pinned to a nearby corkboard.

Leaning in, she studies the pictures, one by one.

Nothing seems overly out of place for a teenage girl. Many of them are Cheryl posing playfully with friends, in pretty outfits. But one in particular gains her interest. She unpins it and looks closer.

“Cheryl… err… Chad.” Chelsea leans in, studying the picture. “Wow. You and Jake seem… close.” A smug smile spreads across her face as she looks at the image of Jake with his arm wrapped around a bashful-looking Cheryl. “Very close,” she repeats. “Have you actually looked at this photo? He’s got his arm around you.”

Cheryl grunts. “I don’t wanna know…”

Placing the picture down on Cheryl’s vanity, Cheslea picks up pink nail varnish and smiles. “Chad, you like pretty pink nails. Who knew you were such a girly girl…”

“Chelsea…” she groans, kicking the bed as she lies flat. “You don’t want me to get nasty. Stop it.”

That’s when Chelsea sees the cheerleading uniform hanging proudly on Cheryl’s closet door. She steps over and playfully wafts the pleated skirt.

“Omg…” Cheslea giggles at it, checking the size of the matching top to see if Cheryl wears the same size as her.

“What now!?” Cheryl asks angrily, sitting up on the bed to fix her with a glare.

“Nothing…” Chelsea puts her arms around her back and smiles. “I was looking at your cheerleader uniform, CHAD… but I don’t want you to get nasty now, do I….?” Chelsea leans towards him, a smug smile written across her face. “We wouldn’t want you to break one of your pretty pink nails before practice today, would we, CHERYL….”

Chelsea’s cheeky grin and playful demeanor are met with a sour glare.

“So, you’re enjoying this…?” Cheryl wipes at one eye as her lip wobbles. “Great. Just great.” She throws her hands up in frustration, then wipes again at the tears in her eyes. “The only person who appears to remember me…. hates me.”

“I never said I hate you, Chad.”

“You do, and you can’t wait to rub it in that now I’m this….this…girl!” She flaps at her body before going fetal once again. “I’m a guy…. a guy!” she mumbles to herself.

Taking a deep breath in, Chelsea looks down, feeling guilt rising, before she notices a framed picture on Cheryl’s chest of drawers. It’s face down, while the other pictures, of family and friends, are upright, like they should be.

Curiosity gets the better of her, and Chelsea lifts the picture frame. Inside is a photo of her, Jannet, and Cheryl, all in their cheerleading uniforms, hugging and smiling like lifelong friends. Chelsea blinks and looks again, but nothing changes. In this warped version of reality, Cheryl, Jannet, and she are friends.

“Well, shit… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“What?” Cherly grumbles from the bed and quickly turns sarcastic. “Have you found my bras, and now you wanna tease me. News flash, Chelsea, I’m well aware of what I have HANGING from my chest! I can feel them every time I MOVE!”

Amused, Chelsea picks up the frame. “No, no. Although that is very funny, especially with how you’ve been with me these last few months, CHAD… but no, I was looking at this. Clearly, we’re friends. Look.”

Cheryl sits up, takes one look at the picture, and frowns. “What are you showing me. It’s you, that ugly nerd girl, and someone else.”

Unimpressed, Chelsea tuts. “Janet is not ugly.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes, grunting in derision.

“That aside, don’t you see it?”

“See what?”

“The other girl, Chad. It’s you. How do you not recognize her?” Chelsea points at the photo. “Look at us. We’re smiling. We’re happy. And it’s framed.” She hesitates, then adds, quieter, “The girl you are now cared enough to keep this with pictures of her family.”

“Oh, and no, I don’t recognize her!” Cheryl scowls at the picture. “I’m not her. This is not me. I, the star player of the football team, the Crimson Chin himself, AM NOT A GIRL.”

“Deny it all you want… Crimson Chin,” Chelsea teases, putting the picture back, standing upright. “But right now and for some reason, you very much are.”

“I don’t have any memories of any of this, though, Chelsea.” Cheryl sits on the edge of the bed, covering her face with her hands. “I remember everything from yesterday. What I ate. How I trained with the boys, even having a wank over you.”

“C-Chad!?” Chelsea gasps and glances away, embarrassed, before slouching into the seat at Cheryl’s study desk. “Don’t say things like that. It’s gross.”

“Not that it matters now…” Cherly replies in a sarcastic tone, throwing her head back before growling at the ceiling, “I can’t do it anymore cos I don’t have the equipment….”

Chelsea shrugs. “Maybe some time away from it will do you some good,” she says honestly. “You’re such a pest at school. Y’know, most girls think you’re a scummy piece of trash.”

“I am not a pest!” Cherly protests strongly.

“You are.” Chelsea retorts just as so.

“When have I been!?”

“All the time, Chad,” Chelsea folds her arms tight and leans back in the chair. “You constantly pester me, making me feel like a piece of meat. Just because you're tall, athletic, and handsome doesn’t mean you get whatever you want by force, you blockhead.”

“Knew it!” Cheryl beams, pointing at Chelsea with a smug little grin. “You totally find me attractive. I knew it.” She tilts her head, eyes sparkling. “All that resistance? Just an act. Playing hard to get, huh, cutie?”

Blushing, Chelsea looks away and down at the dairy open on the desk. She fiddles with the edge of the page, so she doesn’t have to look at his smug smile.

“As If!? Plus, it’s not like any of that matters now,” she replies honestly, beginning to read what’s written in the diary. “You said it yourself. You don’t have that equipment anymore…”

Cheryl smiles quickly fades. “Well, seems some things don’t change. You’re still a total bitch, Chelsea.”

Expecting at least some sort of rise, which never comes, Cheryl repeats herself. “You’re still a bitch. But you probably already know that, huh?”

“Shhh…” Chelsea waves her hand dismissively. “I’m reading your diary. Yesterday’s entry is interesting.” She glances up, smirking. “Very interesting indeed.”

“Why? What does it say?”

“Firstly, you talk about how annoying me and Jannet are.” Chelsea runs her index finger to the end of the entry. “But, here, you talk about how annoyed you are that Jake still hasn’t asked you out. Written here is a wish to really get into the mind of a man and understand them.”

Chelsea looks up from the book and glances over at Cheryl, her mind completely blown.

“So, this version of me…. caused us to swap?”

“Maybe, but there’s something else here that’s curious.” Chelsea looks back at the page, double-checking. “You mention seeing a blue fox out the window.”

“A blue fox?” Cheryl gets to her feet, scurries over to Chelsea, and leans over her shoulder to read the diary. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Chelsea stares at the page, lost in thought, wondering whether she should mention what happened yesterday. Part of her wants to keep it as a guilty little secret, but another part of her feels bad for even considering it.

“Don’t get mad, please,” Chelsea says, rubbing her face nervously with one hand. “I saw a blue fox in the sky, too. Yesterday.” She hesitates, then meets Cheryl’s confused gaze. “It was right after I wished you could understand what it’s like to be a girl.”

Expressionless, Cheryl just stares. “You did this?” she asks, her teeth clenched.

“Well…” Chelsea laughs nervously, leaning away. “I guess between me and this female version of yourself, we might have caused a reality switch…? Might explain why we both remember you being Chad and no one else does… perhaps.”

Cheryl’s face twists with rage, and she shoves Chelsea hard in the shoulder. “This is all your fault! I’m like this because you couldn’t handle a little banter!?”

Chelsea snaps back, scrambles to her feet, and the argument explodes into both of them glaring murder at each other. “Well, if you weren’t such a male pig, I wouldn’t have wished it! It’s your own fault… CHAD!”

“Yeah…?” Cheryl growls back.

“YEAH! You know it is!”

Without thinking, Cheryl swings a punch that barely misses. Chelsea shrieks and reacts on instinct, grabbing a fistful of Cheryl’s hair. They slam into the desk, pulling and clawing at each other as both scream at the top of their lungs.

“You bitch!” Cheryl cries out, yanking hard

“Pig!” Chelsea grabs a second clump of Cheryl’s hair in retaliation

The noise echoes down the hall until the bedroom door slams open and Cheryl’s mother stands there, eyes blazing. “Enough,” she barks, silencing them instantly. She points straight at Cheryl. “What on earth is it you two girls are even fighting about!?”

Letting go of each other, they both stand to attention, both breathing heavy as Cheryl’s mom glares, pointing her finger at them both.

“If I find out you’ve fallen out over a boy, I’m going to knock your heads together, girls. Boys are no reason to end a childhood friendship! Sisters before misters!”

She snaps a stern look at Chad, now her daughter, Cheryl. “Is that understood?”

“Y-yes,” Cheryl mumbles, eyes fixed on her feet.

“Say sorry to each other,” her Mom commands.

“Sorry,” they say reluctantly together, glaring at the floor as they both huff in frustration.

“Good,” Cheryl’s Mom looks at the watch on her wrist. “Now, you two, get ready to go to school, or you’re going to be late.” She fixes Cheryl with a disappointed look, then softly smiles at Chelsea. “Can you help her, Chelsea? She’s all out of sorts today. I have no idea what’s gotten into her.”

A single shake of her head, and Cheryl’s Mom shuts the door, leaving the girls frozen and speechless. Cheryl eventually collapses onto the bed, hair sticking out at odd angles from Chelsea’s earlier pull.

“My life’s over…” she mumbles, bringing her knees to her chest and burying her head between them. “I can’t do this… I can’t be a girl.”

“Maybe it’s what you deserve.” Chelsea scolds, trying to straighten herself up.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you…” Chelsea rebuffs.

Cheryl lets out another dramatic sigh and folds in on herself, burying her face between her knees.“Great,” she groans. “I’m stuck as a girl, and the only person who actually knows who I am is you. The girl who makes me feel like a complete idiot most days.”

“I don’t do anything to make you look like an idiot.”

Cheryl looks up from her legs and throws a dirty look. “Are you joking? Do you know what it’s like to be the star player on the team, the one who all the boys look up to, only to have the girl I really like constantly reject me in such a public manner!?”

Chelsea rolls her mouth and goes to speak, but is interrupted.

“NO, don’t roll your eyes at me, Chelsea. You have no idea how stressful it is! No idea how hard I have to try to be the alpha. I HAVE to maintain a certain level of respect, and you constantly shit on that, making me look weak in front of the boys.”

Again, Chelsea opens her mouth to speak, but Cheryl cuts her off.

“I’ve fancied the pants off you ever since I first laid eyes on you. Watching you gyrate around in that skimpy uniform with that smile on your face, I couldn’t stop looking, and now everyone at school is questioning my sexuality because I can’t even get you to date me when I so obviously like you!”

“I…”

“Maybe, princess…” she starts, voice shaking. “I act like that because I know no matter what I say or do around you, you’re just going to look down on me. I’ve tried… I’ve tried to win you over, Chelsea. And it hurts because I—I…” She pauses, bites her lip, and shakes her head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter now, does it!?”

“B‑because… what?” Chelsea stammers, her eyebrows raised. “Wait—because of what, Chad?”

Cherly sighs hard and buries her head back between her legs. “It really doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m Cheryl now and apparently….. I like Jake.” She mocks his name.

The silence stretches uncomfortably. Chelsea lowers her gaze to the diary, eyes following the familiar handwriting. She whispers in thought, “Wished he’d understand…?”

Unresponsive, Cheryl says nothing as she slowly rocks back and forward on the bed; every so often, a little whine slips out.

Chelsea scratches her chin, her eyes wandering across the room until they rest on the neatly hung cheerleader uniform. She tilts her head slightly, a quiet revelation dawning on her.

“Chad?” she says softly, walking over to the uniform, picking up the hanger. “I think I’ve got an idea how we can get everything back to normal.”

Cheryl looks up, lifting her face to show the tears dribbling down her cheeks. “Y-Yeah…?”

“If I’ve wished for you to understand what it’s like for women, and the real Cheryl, who we can only assume is back in our reality, living life as you, wished to understand men….”

Exhausted, Cheryl gets frustrated, “Get to the point.”

“It’s classic body switch stuff, Chad—Cheryl, whatever we should call you.” Lifting the uniform hanging from her fingertips in Chad’s direction, Chelsea keenly makes her point. “The switch back will be triggered when you’ve learnt the lesson I wished for you to learn!”

One look at the outfit hanging, and Cheryl looks away in disgust. “No… Chelsea,” she whines, throwing a hand up to shield herself from the idea. “I know what you are suggesting, and it’s a flat no. I’m not humiliating myself and wearing that.”

“Humiliating?”

“Yes,” Cheryl retorts with purpose. “You’d just love that, wouldn’t you? Me, big bad Chad with his sculpted chin, fluttering around in a tiny little pleated shirt and a crop top, cheering the boys on from the sidelines. He folds his arms tight. “I’m not doing it. I’m not. I’m just not.”

“I hate to be cliché, CHERYL….but if it’s your only option to reclaim the—” Chelsea sniggers as she does an impression of him, showing off her chin with pizzazz “—the Crimson Chin, you’ll stop moaning and accept the fact you need to learn what it’s like to be a woman.”

“No.” Cheryl then flips her off. “And don’t mock me like that. The Crimson Chin is my trademark. My dad says our strong chin is a sign of good, alpha male genes, so…”

“It’s sign of bad personality…” Chelsea juts out a hip in attitude, holding the uniform out to him. “Do you want my help or not, cos honestly, I could quite easily fit into this reality without a problem if you don’t wanna even attempt to fix it.”

Chelsea fixes a stare, gritting her teeth tight. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She replies honestly.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

Cheryl throws her arms up in frustration, kicking out at a nearby slipper on the floor. “Fuck sake. Fine. I guess I don’t have a choice!” Chelsea pulls at her long hair and screams out. “I really don’t wanna be seen in that uniform! It’s so degrading!”

She slumps and lets out a long breath as the gravity of it all settles, before turning to look nervously in Chelsea’s direction.

“Do you know, the guys on the football team rank you girls on the thickness of your thighs.” Cheryl look uncomfrotable, but still asks what’s on her mind. “Does that mean they are going to do the same to me if I show up wearing that skimpy crap?”

“You rank us?” Chelsea rolls her eyes. “And honestly, Chad, can you see why I’d enjoy this little gender swap of yours? That’s so gross.”

“I-I…I always put you at the top,” Cheryl replies in an instant, like it’s a compliment.

“Am I supposed to be happy about that?”

Cheryl shrugs. “I dunno. Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got thick thighs, Chelsea. I’d let you sit on my—”

“Stop!” Chelsea interrupts before her cheeks erupt with embarrassment. “Just stop it.”

“I’m just being honest.”

Covering her face with one hand. “Well, don’t.”

“Christ…” Cherly pulls a face. “Sorry, I was only trying to compliment you.”

She stands, pulling down her top to cover as much of her lower half as possible, and then looks around at the room. “You’re one hundred percent correct, Chelsea. I honestly just don’t get women at all. If a girl told me she thinks I’m at the top of a list, I’d be buzzing.”

“No,” Chelsea nods once, before noticing a rucksack on the floor. “You don’t,” she continues, placing the rucksack onto the bed. “And that’s why you’re standing in front of me with your own, lovely thick thighs peaking out from under that oversized top…isn’t it?”

“I do…!?” Cheryl parts her legs and leans down, feeling the area with one hand.

“Wonder where you’re going to rank, Cheryl?”

Quickly glancing up, Cheryl scoffs. “Shut it.”

“Well…” Chelsea lifts both her eyebrows as Cheryl continues rubbing them in front of her. “Shall we get you packed up and ready for school today. It’s Thursday, so we have practice after class.” She neatly starts folding the uniform into the rucksack.”

“Practice?”

“Yes,” Chelsea looks around the room. “Have you seen a towel anywhere in here? Maybe some deodorant. You’re going to need some.”

“Cheerleading practice…” Cheryl asks, looking for clarification as Chelsea starts looking around the room.

“Yes.” She finds a towel and grabs some items from the vanity desk. “Don’t worry, we’re not doing routines today, it’s just training.”

“Oh god, okay…” Cheryl says, making herself smaller, by covering his chest with one arm and her crotch with the other hand. “Do you really, like honestly, hand on heart, think living this girl’s life will help me get my body back?”

“Uh-huh,” Chelsea nods once, zipping up the rucksack triumphantly before opening the closet to look inside. “What choice do you have. You’re Mom, although I love her girl boss energy, isn’t going to be pleased if you try to hide in here all the time.”

“Y-yeah…” she says, brushing hair from her eyes, nodding knowingly. “She’s like my Mom, seriously. Doesn’t take any rubbish.” Her gaze flicks to Chelsea rifling through Cheryl’s closet. “When I first woke up like this, terrified, she bonked me on the head… yeah, still hurts a bit.”

“She is your Mom.” Chelsea looks back over her shoulder with a smile. “There’s some really cute outfits in here. Have you given any thought to what you want to wear?”

Dazed, Chelsea holds her mouth closed and shakes her head several times.

“Wanna wear something functional and comfortable?”

“Chelsea,” Cheryl whines out. “I’m a dude, remember. I have no idea what you just said to me. What does function and comfortable even mean!? Are you suggestion I wear like steel toe capped shoes and cargo pants?”

“Okay, Okay….” Chelsea points with excitement at the chest of drawers, then looks back inside the closet. “Choose yourself some undewear and a bra. I’ll keep looking as you get changed.”

“A bra….?” Cherly mutters to herself, meekly walking over to the drawer to open it. “Oh, god, Chelsea. This drawer is full of girly knick-knacks. I-I…I can’t. It’s too strange.”

She looks around, picking up one pink lacey number, holding it nervously between her fingertips. “I mean, look at this one. This isn’t underwear, Chelsea, it’s string. This certainly isn’t functional or comfortable…”

“Pick something else then…”

“Do I have to….??” Cheryl drops the underwear and huffs loudly. “It’s not like I have anything down there to cradle anymore. Can I just not wear any?”

“No… you can’t just not wear any!” Chelsea replies with a stern glance. “Just choose like some briefs or something. I’m sure the real Cheryl has more than just date night undies, Chad. Oh, but make sure you can find the matching bra. That’s proper etiquette.”

“What?”

“Well…” Chelsea softly smiles. “If you, god forbid, end up in hospital, you don’t’ want the doctors and nurses seeing you in mismatched underwear. So, make sure they match.”

Spending a moment, awkwardly rummaging, Cheryl eventually pulls out a pair of basic white panties and bra. She holds them up in Chelsea’s direction. “These?”

“Yeah,” she glances. “Put them on, and then I’ve got a few outfit ideas for you.”

What follows for the next few minutes is groan after groan after groan. Chelsea does her best not to look as Chad attempts to put on fresh underwear, but when she falls onto the bed, howling in frustration, Chelsea can’t help but look.

“Err…” Chelsea turns slowly to see Cheryl’s naked back as she sits on the bed, trying desperately to hook up the bra. “Do you want some help?”

“No,” she snaps in reply, grunting as she fights with the clasps at the back. “I’ve got this. I won’t be beaten!”

Stifling a laugh, Chelsea turns completely to watch in amusement. “Let me help you….”

“No way!” Cheryl snaps again. “When this all goes back to normal, you won’t let me live it down. You’ll be all like—” Cheryl mimic’s Chelea’s voice. “—Remember that time I helped you put on your bra, Chad hee-hee….”

“I would never,” Chelsea gasp, offended.

Stopping, Cheryl turns her head to look at Chelsea sarcastically. “Yeah,” she says. “You would. Now, leave me alone—” she once again mimics, but this time is even more flippant with her tone. “—I have to learn how to be a woman….”

“Alright, sheesh, moody bitch.” Chelsea reaches into the closet on the half turn as Cheryl slaps at the bra straps, triumphant.

“Hmm…” she bounces on the bed, watching her chest. “I’m glad these aren’t much bigger. I wouldn’t want massive ones just hanging there, y’know.” Cheryl lightly giggles. “Man, Chels, it’s so weird to see these things from this point of view. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy the bra is pushing these things into my peripheral vision, but it’s funny to see myself with a cleavage. It’s like I’ve got real fat overnight and I’ve got man boobs.”

Chelsea cracks a smile, looking back over her shoulder as Cheryl stands in just her underwear, playfully bouncing on her tiptoes.

“Hey, erm… Chels…?”

“Yeah…?”

“So, like, you’ll like going to stick with me until this is fixed, right?”

Having pulled out a bunch of outfits, Chelsea throws the clothes, complete with hangers, onto the bed in a pile. “Look after you?”

“I guess,” Chelsea starts separating the outfits so Cheryl can choose. “Now, if you’re done salivating at the sight of your own half-naked body, I need you to pay attention. I’ve picked out some outfits, and I want you to choose.”

“What we got?” Cheryl grits her teeth when she notices short skirts, knee-high socks, dresses, and tight-looking tops. “Oh, man, Chels, come on. We’re going to school, not to a catwalk. Can’t I just wear jeans and a hoodie or something?”

“If you don’t want the other girls to talk about you behind their backs, then yes, you need to wear something nicer than that.” Chelsea then tuts, “Please stop calling me Chels, I don’t like that.”

Reaching across and picking up a denim mini skirt, Cheryl gives Chelsea a disgusted look before putting it back down on the bed.

“Why would they talk about me behind my back? What do they care what I wear?”

“They don’t really care, Chad,” Chelsea answers honestly, putting the mini skirt back with the outfit so it’s lined up correctly with the top. “It’s just what some girls are like, trust me. If you turn up to school, especially when you're part of the cheer squad, looking like you've slept rough, all sorts of rumours and things will be spread about you.”

“Seriously?” Cheryl looks worried. “W-Why would the other girls do that?”

“I don’t know…. It’s just something that happens.

“You’re not lying to me to get me to wear something silly, are you, Chels?”

“No….” Chelsea frowns. “Stop calling me that. Now, look, choose something.”

“Promise?”

“Chad-Cheryl, come on. It’s already getting late in the morning. Just choose something from the options I’ve picked out for you and stop suggesting I’m trying to do you over or something. If I really wanted to humiliate you that badly, I wouldn’t be here helping you now, would I?

Cheryl rolls her head around in thought as she looks at the outfits. “I don’t know…” she groans. “I don’t wanna wear any of this. I’m not a crossdresser.”

“I agree,” Chelsea nods and smirks. “You aren’t a crossdresser. Now, choose something before I choose it for you.”

“Urgh, you're so smug about this.” She points at the denim mini skirt. “Fine, I choose this outfit, okay. Happy?”

“Mini skirt….?” Chelsea gives an impressed look and a thumbs up. “Nice. You might be a bit of a dick when you’re a guy, Chad, but I like your style now you’re a woman.”

“So smug,” she shakes her head. “Alright….” Cheryl sighs. “It all looks so small and tight, but I guess it’s in MY bedroom, so it must be MY clothes….”

Cheryl exhales and reaches for the denim mini skirt, stepping into it carefully and tugging it into place with an awkward huff. She pulls on the tank top next, then shrugs into the checked shirt, leaving it open as she glances down at herself like she is inspecting a costume. Thigh-high socks follow, and she straightens slowly, shifting her weight and testing how everything feels.

Chelsea watches quietly, eyes moving over the outfit with a critical focus rather than a smile. She steps closer, smoothing the skirt hem, tugging the tank top so it sits straight, and adjusting the shirt so it hangs evenly on both sides.

“Stand still,” she says, firm but calm, nudging Cheryl’s shoulder until she faces the mirror properly. “What do you think? Cute, right?”

Cheryl meets her own reflection, frowning. “I guess so….” she sighs. “I kinda like the shirt. Good choice.

“Ah, see. I told you I’m trying to help,” Chelsea replies, reaching for the hairbrush on the desk.

She guides Cheryl to sit on the edge of the bed and gently brushes out her hair, slowly and deliberately, working through the knots. Cheryl stiffens at first, then relaxes, staring ahead while Chelsea gathers her hair neatly, brushing it into place.

“Why did you reject me so many times, Chelsea?” Cheryl asks, filling the silence. “I mean, you’re being so nice to me right now, and I can’t help but notice it’s because I’m a girl. Are you... gay?”

“You’re such a dick, Chad,” Chelsea bonks him lightly on the head with the brush. “Stop talking and watch in the mirror what I do.” Chelsea glares at him in the reflection of the full-length mirror sitting across from them. “I’m not getting up early to help you tomorrow, so if we don’t fix this today, you need to be able to sort your own clothes, hair, and makeup.”

“So gay….” Chad mutters under his breath.

She bonks him again. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you…” she replies playfully. “Stop hitting me already. I am watching you, Christ. You think so little of me, don’t you?”

Chelsea rolls her eyes and finishes brushing, then gathers Cheryl’s hair behind her head. She twists it into a neat ponytail and ties it off, giving it a small approving tug. “There,” she says. “This should make it easier for you to manage having long hair.”

She reaches for the makeup on the vanity and steps into Cheryl’s line of sight in the mirror. Chelsea dabs a little foundation onto her fingers and smooths it over Cheryl’s face, light and careful, evening everything out.

Mascara comes next, Chelsea steadying Cheryl’s chin with one hand as she applies it. “Blink,” she instructs, then pulls back to check her work. She finishes with a quick swipe of lip gloss and caps it shut.

Cheryl leans closer to the mirror, tilting her head from side to side. She presses her lips together once, then twice, eyes widening slightly.

“Yup, I look stupid,” she mutters, standing in front of the mirror, looking herself up and down. “I know that’s me in the mirror, but I really don’t see myself.” She touches her ponytail, then lets it flick from her hand. “Chelsea, I don’t want to get used to this, okay. I need to learn fast.”

“I don’t think we get that choice,” Chelsea says, already turning away. She grabs the rucksack she packed earlier from beside the desk and holds it out. “Ready to face the world and learn?”

“Sure…” Cheryl grabs the bag, rolling her eyes. “I just can’t wait,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Collecting her own bag, Chelsea and Cheryl head downstairs. Several moans and groans about the length of her skirt; later, Cheryl is standing at the front door, hesitating to open it.

“Girls…?” Cheryl’s Mom appears in the hallway with a smile. “I take you two have made up?”

“Uh-huh…” Chelsea gives her a wide smile. “We talked, and we know what we need to do.”

“Cheryl, sweetheart…” her Mom looks around Chelsea to peer at her daughter. “Don’t you think that skirts a little inappropriate for school?”

“Seriously!?” Cheryl’s swings around, mouth wide with frustration. “Well, what the heck am I supposed to wear!?” She glares at her Mom, then at Chelsea. “Like seriously!? I feel like whatever I do today, I’m going to get judged by Everyone!”

“R-Right…,” her Mom reacts awkwardly to Cheryl’s outburst, before forcing a smile in Chelsea’s direction. “See what I mean, Chelsea, dear? She’s acting really funny today. I thought it might have been that she’s on her period, but we aren’t due until next week.”

“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” Chelsea glances back at her new girly friend. “I’ll keep an eye on here just in case she acts…. unladylike, I promise….”