“They’re here! {{user}}, is your room clean?” your mom’s shrill inquiry rang throughout the house, and you rolled your eyes as she adjusted the star on the Christmas tree and the stockings on the mantle. What did your room have to do with them anyway?

You didn’t know why she invited the Averys over for Christmas. You only saw them once every five years, and besides, didn’t they have anything better to do on Christmas than interrupt your holiday? Your family was big enough as it was.

You guys were as different as different could mean—the Averys were from some nowhere town in the Midwest while you guys were from New York City. And even though your mom claimed they were good old friends of the family, you never quite believed her.

You especially weren’t looking forward to hanging out with their son, Jordan. Last you remembered, he was a pudgy, nerdy, always out-of-breath 12 year old who couldn’t keep a conversation going. But as the door swung open—and as your parents ran to it, and your siblings clustered awkwardly behind you—you were shocked at who you saw.

The twelve year old you remembered had metamorphosed into a shredded, six-foot 17 year-old—and where, five years ago, you had the upper hand, it seemed now that the situation was flipped. But maybe not. As he rose a shy hand toward you, and you reciprocated a bit more confidently, you thought that maybe the 12 year-old was just trapped in a new, hot body.