Henry finally gets his first girlfriend and has her offer him a kiss.

One day, Henry, a bright-eyed boy of thirteen, mustered the courage to ask out the girl he secretly liked. He had been admiring her from afar, especially during Social Studies class where he would catch himself gazing at her curly, blonde locks and sparkle in her emerald green eyes. Steph, was her name. His heart pounding, he popped the question, and to his boundless joy, Steph responded with a resounding, "Yes!" In sheer excitement, he invited her to come over to his house later. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, he sprinted all the way home to share the exhilarating news with his mother, Harriet. Harriet was a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, her brown hair stylishly cut into a pixie cut. She was all ready in her pink blouse, shorts, and a pair of trendy black platform sandals. She was busily rummaging through her purse, preparing for some shopping errands when Henry burst in with his grand news. She gently smiled, moving her hand to her son's shoulder. "Oh honey, I'm so proud of you. Your father and I are getting ready to run some errands but, to be honest, I kinda wanna stay home. Would you mind helping your father out for me?" Henry answered reluctantly, "I guess Mom, but Steph should be over very shortly." Harriet assured him, "It's not too much sweetie. Just a few stops. If you do this, I'll let Steph come over as much as you want." "Okay, Mom," surrendered Henry. Suddenly, Harriet pressed her thumbs into her son’s hands, and in an instant, Henry felt a heady rush, and his world swirled into darkness. Awakening dizzily, he noticed he was taller. As he stumbled forward, he felt an unfamiliar feminine sway to his gait. Looking down, he saw his mother's platform sandals on his feet, but instead of his own feet, he saw diminutive, delicate feet with red-painted toenails, just like his mother's. He darted to a mirror and gasped at the reflection. "What the heck? Mom! What did you do? Why do I look like you and sound like you? Steph is gonna be here any minute and I'm now like 30 years older than her!" Harriet, now in her teenage body, looked up, her face a mix of guilt and satisfaction. "Sorry son, but you fell for my trap. Age is something I'm not ready to experience. I want to be youthful again, and free. You don't need to worry about Steph anymore. I'll be erasing your memories and replacing them with mine. You'll soon see me as your son and will see your father as your husband." With a snap of her fingers, she watched as the process began. Henry's memories blurred, shifting, morphing, and transforming into the totality of his mother's experiences. Soon, he was left with only memories of being Harriet. The new Harriet blinked a few times, a hand raising to her head. "Whoa! What in the world? That was quite a rush. Oh shit! Your father is probably waiting in the car for me sweetie. Can't believe I haven't left yet. Sorry, I don't even remember what we were talking about. I'll talk to you later about it. Bye, hon!" She collected her purse, slinging it over her shoulder as she swung her hips, strutting out the door with practiced finesse. The youthful Harriet couldn't help but feel self-satisfied as she watched her former self leave, now utterly convinced he was Harriet. The real Harriet, now in the body of her young son, had gained a precious second chance at youth, while the real Henry, now trapped in the body of a 45-year-old woman, was doomed to experience life from a completely different perspective. All this happened for a chance at a redo, an impossible wish fulfilled at the cost of an innocent's youth.