Squeezed

“You won’t do it.” He shook his head as he leaned his shoulder against the door frame.

“Watch me.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“I’m freaking doing this, okay?” Her feet numb, unable to look at her painted toenails, her legs like meat squeezed into sausage-skins that spilled out at the ends.

She lay back, gritted her teeth, and screwed up her nose. Expelled all the air in her lungs, flattened her tummy, and pulled. “AUUGHH.”  With a huge sigh, she smiled up at him. “I did it.”

Head tilted, he squinted at her. “Now, try and stand up?”

She got to her elbows on the bed, rolled side to side, but her stomach wouldn’t bend and collapsed onto her back, blinking at the stars creeping into her peripheral. Was she going to faint from lack of oxygen? “I can’t do it.”

“Mum, let’s tell no one about this, ever. And stay away from my clothes.”

“Deals a deal, buddy?” She grinned, rolled off the side and used the side table to stand. She straightened the short shirt and giggled at her squeezed butt in the mirror feeling like she’d been cut in half. “At least he might keep his bedroom floor clothes-free for a month.” She wished.

But now she had to get out of them without hurting herself.

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