First Kiss, Last Kiss, Every Kiss
Copyright© 2026 by SpankLord40k
Chapter 7: The Choice
Saturday morning arrived with deceptive normalcy. Sarah woke early, her stomach tight with anxiety, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Today was the sixth day. Today Emmy would have both sets of memories fully accessible. Today she would choose.
Sarah got up quietly and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. When she looked in the mirror, she saw dark circles under her eyes from a night of restless sleep. She looked exhausted, haunted.
Downstairs, the house was still quiet. Their parents weren’t up yet - Saturday morning meant sleeping in. Sarah made herself tea and sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around the warm mug, trying to steady her nerves.
She heard footsteps on the stairs. Light, quick footsteps. Emmy.
Sarah tensed, waiting. Would Emmy come down angry? Confused? Would she even remember Lars at all, or would the sixth day revelation not work the way Katie’s parents had described?
Emmy appeared in the kitchen doorway, still in her pajamas - the ones with stars and moons. Her long hair was tangled from sleep, and she held Mr. Hoppers under one arm. But her expression was strange. Confused. Troubled.
“Sarah?” Emmy’s voice was small, uncertain.
“Morning, Emmy,” Sarah said carefully. “Are you okay?”
Emmy walked slowly into the kitchen and climbed into her usual chair, but she didn’t start chattering like she normally did. Instead, she sat quietly, hugging Mr. Hoppers, staring at the table.
“I had weird dreams,” Emmy said finally. “Really weird dreams. About ... about being someone else. Being bigger. Being mean.” She looked up at Sarah, and there was something in her eyes - a flash of recognition, of knowledge, of Lars. “Being cruel to you.”
Sarah’s breath caught. “Emmy -”
“I remember,” Emmy interrupted, her voice shaking slightly. “I remember being Lars. I remember everything. Being cruel to you, all those years. Breaking your wand. The party. The transformation. All of it.” Her small hands gripped Mr. Hoppers tighter. “And I remember being Emmy too. Going to school. Playing with Lola, Tiffany and Erika. All of that.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say. This was it. The moment of choice was beginning.
“Both feel real,” Emmy continued, her childish voice filled with confusion and something else - something harder. “Both sets of memories feel like they actually happened to me. Like I lived both lives.”
“You did,” Sarah whispered. “In a way.”
Emmy’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly Sarah saw Lars there - angry Lars, mean Lars. “You did this to me. You and your friends. You cast a spell. You changed me. You took away my life.”
The accusation hung in the air between them. Sarah felt tears prick her eyes but forced them back. “Yes. I did. I was angry and hurt and I wanted you to understand what it felt like to be small and powerless and dismissed. So we cast a spell on Halloween night when our magic was strongest. We transformed you into Emmy.”
“Into a little girl,” Emmy said, and there was bitterness in her voice that sounded so much like Lars it made Sarah’s heart ache. “Into a ten-year-old girl. You made me small and weak and -”
“Happy,” Sarah interrupted quietly. “I made you happy. Look at your memories, Emmy. Were you happy as Lars?”
Emmy’s mouth opened to argue, then closed. She looked down at Mr. Hoppers, her small fingers running over the worn fabric. “No,” she admitted finally. “Lars wasn’t happy. Lars was ... empty. Going nowhere. Treating everyone badly.”
“And Emmy?” Sarah asked gently.
“Emmy is happy,” Emmy whispered. “Emmy has friends and art and ... and Sarah takes care of her and...” Her voice broke. “But that doesn’t make it okay! You didn’t ask me! You just changed me!”
“I know,” Sarah said, tears finally spilling over. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I was angry and I didn’t think about what it really meant. I just wanted you to suffer the way you made me suffer all these years. I wanted revenge.”
“Well, you got it,” Emmy said bitterly. “You turned your brother into a little girl.”
The words stung, but Sarah accepted them. She deserved them.
They sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, Sarah spoke again, her voice barely audible “There’s something you need to know. Today is the sixth day. According to the spell, you have a choice. You can stay as Emmy, or you can go back to being Lars. If you want to be Lars again, really want it with full intention, the spell will reverse. You’ll transform back, and reality will restructure itself. But you have to choose by midnight tonight. If you don’t choose, or if you choose to stay as Emmy, the spell becomes permanent. There’s no going back after tonight.”
Emmy’s eyes widened. “I can go back? I can be Lars again?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, her voice breaking. “You can have your old life back. Your apartment, your job, your friends, your adult body. Everything. If that’s what you want.”
Emmy stared at her, processing this. “So you’re giving me a choice now? After you took it away?”
“The spell gives you a choice,” Sarah corrected quietly. “I don’t get to decide. You do.”
Emmy was quiet for a long time, her small face troubled, her hands clutching Mr. Hoppers. Finally she said, “I need time to think. Lola’s coming over this afternoon. I want ... I want to just be Emmy for a while longer before I decide.”
Sarah nodded quickly, her shoulders dropping while looking down at her hands. “Okay. I just ... I want you to have whatever time you need.”
Emmy slid off her chair and walked toward the stairs, then paused and looked back at Sarah. “I’m still angry at you.”
“I know,” said Sarah. That was all she could manage to say.
Emmy nodded and went upstairs, leaving Sarah alone in the kitchen with her tea and her guilt and her fear.
The morning passed slowly. Emmy stayed in her room, occasionally coming out for breakfast or to use the bathroom, but she didn’t talk much. She seemed lost in thought, wrestling with the choice she had to make.
Sarah tried to give her space, but she was hyper-aware of every sound, every movement. Their parents noticed Emmy’s unusual quietness but attributed it to excitement about Lola’s visit.
“Is Emmy feeling okay?” their mother asked Sarah at one point. “She seems subdued.”
“She’s fine,” Sarah lied, trying to sound casual. “She’s just being moody. You know how she is when she’s excited about stuff.”
Around noon, Emmy came downstairs dressed for Lola’s visit - a purple dress with white polka dots, her hair brushed but left loose and flowing. She looked like any normal ten-year-old girl preparing for a playdate with her best friend.
But Sarah could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the weight of the choice she was carrying.
“Lola will be here at two,” their mother reminded Emmy. “Are you excited?”
“Yes, Mommy,” Emmy said automatically. But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
One o’clock came and went. Emmy sat in her room, and Sarah could hear her moving around, occasionally talking softly to Mr. Hoppers. Sarah stood outside Emmy’s door several times, wanting to knock, wanting to talk, but not knowing what to say.
At 1:45, Sarah’s phone rang. It was Lola’s mother.
“Hi, Sarah? I’m so sorry, but we’re running about fifteen minutes late. Traffic is terrible. We’ll be there by 2:15. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine,” Sarah assured her. “Emmy will be waiting.”
Sarah went to Emmy’s door and knocked gently. “Emmy? Lola’s going to be a few minutes late. Traffic.”
“Okay,” came Emmy’s small voice from inside.
Sarah hesitated, then asked, “Can I come in?”
A pause. Then: “Okay.”
Sarah opened the door and found Emmy sitting on her bed, Mr. Hoppers in her lap, looking small and lost and confused.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know what to do,” Emmy admitted, her voice wavering. “Part of me wants to go back. Wants to be Lars again. Be big and strong and adult. Not have bedtimes and homework and have to ask permission for everything.”
“That makes sense,” Sarah said quietly.
“But...” Emmy’s eyes filled with tears. “But I remember being Lars. I remember how lonely it was. How empty. I had friends but I didn’t really care about them. I had a job but I hated it. I had freedom but I didn’t do anything worthwhile with it.” She looked up at Sarah. “And I was mean. Really mean. Not just to you, but to everyone. I didn’t care about anyone but myself.”
Sarah’s heart ached. “Emmy -”
“Emmy cares,” Emmy interrupted, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. “Emmy cares about people. Emmy has Lola and Tiffany and Erika who actually like her. Emmy has Mrs. Patterson who believes in her. Emmy has art and creativity and ... and Sarah who helps her with homework and braids her hair and...” She sobbed. “Emmy is better than Lars ever was.”
“But Emmy is also ten years old,” Sarah said gently. “She has to grow up all over again. Go through school, puberty, all of it. That’s not fair to you.”
“Nothing about this is fair,” Emmy said with surprising wisdom. “But if I go back to being Lars ... I’ll be that person again. That empty, mean person. And I don’t want to be him anymore.”
Sarah felt hope and grief mixing in her chest. “Are you saying -?”
“I don’t know!” Emmy cried, frustrated. “I’m angry at you for doing this! But I’m also...” She struggled to find the words. “I’m also grateful? How messed up is that? I’m grateful you turned me into a ten-year-old girl against my will because it made me a better person!”
The doorbell rang downstairs, making them both jump.
“That must be Lola,” Sarah said, standing. “You don’t have to decide right now. Spend time with your friend. Be Emmy for a while. You have until midnight.”
Emmy wiped her eyes and nodded. She followed Sarah downstairs, where their mother was already opening the door.
Lola bounced inside, her blonde pigtails swinging, a backpack slung over her shoulder. “Emmy! Hi! I’m so excited! I brought some new markers to share and - “ She stopped, noticing Emmy’s red eyes. “Emmy? Are you okay? Have you been crying?”
Emmy forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just ... emotional about things. Come on, let’s go to my room!”
She grabbed Lola’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. Sarah watched them go, her heart heavy.
Upstairs, Emmy closed her bedroom door and took a deep breath. Lola was looking at her with concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lola asked.
“Yeah,” Emmy said, and realized she meant it. “Yeah, I am. Want to see the new drawing I did?”
For the next two hours, Emmy let herself just be. She and Lola drew pictures together, using Lola’s new markers to create elaborate scenes of magical forests and castles. They played with Emmy’s dolls, creating an elaborate story about princess sisters who went on adventures together. They dressed up in Emmy’s princess costumes - Emmy in her Halloween costume, Lola in a blue one - and had a pretend tea party with Mr. Hoppers and Lola’s stuffed elephant as guests.
Through it all, Emmy felt herself relaxing into the simple joy of it. This was what being ten was about. Playing without self-consciousness. Creating elaborate imaginary worlds. Laughing over silly things. Being completely absorbed in the moment.
Lars had never felt this. Lars had been too concerned with looking cool, with maintaining his image, with not appearing childish or weak. Lars would have found this playdate boring and stupid.
But Emmy loved it. Every minute of it.
Around four o’clock, Lola’s mother called to say she’d be there to pick her up in thirty minutes. The girls started cleaning up Emmy’s room, putting away the dolls and art supplies.
“Thanks for having me over,” Lola said, hugging Emmy. “This was so fun! Can we do it again soon?”
“I’d love that,” Emmy said, hugging back tightly.
When Lola left, Emmy felt different. Settled somehow. She went to find Sarah, who was in the living room reading a book, obviously unable to concentrate.
“Sarah?” Emmy said quietly. “Can we talk?”