Jared stood frozen in the DMV photo booth, his hands trembling as he adjusted the frilly burgundy collar that seemed to strangle him with its pristine white Peter Pan points. The A-line dress swished around his legs with every nervous twitch, and the short puff sleeves made his arms look impossibly thin and delicate against the fluorescent lighting.

"This is a nightmare," he whispered, catching sight of his reflection in the camera's screen. The dress was everything a nineteen-year-old guy never wanted to wear---feminine, flowy, with delicate ruffles that seemed to mock his masculine jawline and broad shoulders.

Sarah appeared beside him like a mischievous angel of sisterly revenge, holding a small makeup bag. "Don't forget the shoes," she added with a sweet smile that made Jared's stomach drop. "They complete the look."

Jared looked down at the tiny ballet flats in burgundy to match the dress. They'd barely fit his feet, and the dainty ribbon ties made him feel like he was wearing costume props rather than actual footwear.

"How did I lose to you?" Jared groaned, his voice cracking slightly. "I was supposed to be the responsible older brother!"

"Oh, but you were so confident," Sarah said, clapping her hands together in delight. "Remember? 'I'll get my license first, and then you get to wear whatever I pick for eight whole years.'"

The memory hit Jared like a truck. He'd been so sure he'd beat her to the finish line. Sarah had always been the cautious one, the one who second-guessed everything. How was he supposed to know she'd actually wanted this license thing all along and was just waiting for the right motivation?

The wait time seemed eternal. Other people in line kept glancing his way, some trying not to stare, others failing spectacularly. Jared felt heat creeping up his neck and face, his cheeks burning so hot he was sure they were literally glowing. He pulled at the dress's short sleeves, desperately trying to make them cover more of his arms while feeling acutely aware of how ridiculous he looked.

"Jared," Sarah said, standing behind him as they approached the photo booth. "Before we take this picture, I want you to know something."

"Please don't make this worse," Jared pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You were so focused on winning that you forgot something important," she continued, her tone taking on that lecturing voice she used when she was about to deliver some sisterly wisdom. "When I won this bet, I got to pick something that would make you think before you made bets like this in the future."