I think I really like this story.

Chapter 2:

"…The true test of manhood is helping, not fighting." –Voice of Youth Advocates

"Put it on," yelped Jorge as he shoved a random jacket towards Alek. He hurriedly pushed Alek into a dressing room before he could run out and get the earring that he'd been fingering longingly.

Alek opened up the curtains. "So?" He walked out hesitantly, looking doubtfully at the jacket that Jorge had given him.

Jason stared. "Alek, you look amazing."

"Really?" Alek said, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He realized that he did look great. The jacket, which was a darkish green color went great with his short spiky light brown hair, and emphasized his piercings. His arms seemed to fit in the jacket and the jacket wrapped around his broad shoulders—which was surprising—on many occasions Alek's sleeves had been to long for him. It traced down to around his knees—well it was one of those long jackets—but didn't make him look like he was wearing a dress or something. His hazel eyes seemed to shine more with the darker jacket, which happened to be one of those button-up ones that he would never wear. (He usually didn't care what he wore—mainly Alek wore brand names and jeans that were all ripped up. Alek preferred zip-up jackets or sweatshirts usually ugly and black).

"Here," he said, pulling off the jacket and throwing it to Weston. "You like jackets—you put it on."

Weston pulled on the jacket on top of his "My Chemical Romance" shirt. He slowly buttoned it, tracing his fingers over the small button pins attached to the collar; one which read "You only have one life. Do something."

Then he turned around, waiting for his friends' approval.

"West you fool," said Jorge. "When did you get so hot?"

The jacket wasn't as long on West as it was on Jason, but it had the same effect. His coffee-colored hair blended with the green in the coat, making him look like the perfection of nature and the faint greenish tints made his eyes look like a forest from one of those vacation magazines. The jacket was long enough to cover his long arms—West's arms were longs while Alek's were a bit shorter—and they seemed to hug his waist, making him look thin and tall and elegant, like some sort of duke or prince. A very strange prince. This however, was exactly the type of clothing West liked. He arched his eyebrows, studying himself in the mirror.

"Well, I am b-e-a-utiful, aren't I?" he said, grinning, and arching another eyebrow.

"Stuff it," said Alek, a bit put off that West looked so good in the jacket, that maybe he couldn't compete with his friend's looks.

"Don't worry Alek," Weston tried to comfort him, "you looked as great as I did, maybe I just looked a tad better."

"Ah shut up," said Jorge amiably.

Jason was standing awkwardly near a clothing rack. He knew what was coming next.

"Here Jason," said West, handing him the jacket. "You try it on, Mr. Gorgeous."

Jason's face colored, and he grabbed the jacket, pulling it on, his fingers fumbling as he buttoned it.

"Jason you show-off," Jorge yelped, "you just had to make us all feel bad, now did you?"

Jason blushed, "No."

"He's just kidding," snapped Weston impatiently. "Turn around."

Jason turned slowly, and Weston grinned. "You're right Jorge. He did have to make us feel bad."

The green jacket seemed to close over Jason's thin shoulders, and wrapped around his lanky frame. It hugged his waistline, and the dark green color brought out the lightness of the color in his eyes, making them look like light green slivers of ice. It brought out the paleness of his skin—for Jason was not that tan, unlike Weston—and made him look fragile and dramatic. It even brought out the dark lashes that covered his eyes, and his intense bangs stood out even more than usual. This however, was not something Jason would usually wear. He usually wore plain clothing—jeans and t-shirts (without brand names), that did not draw more attention to himself that his looks already did.

Nervously, and almost eager to get rid of it, he pulled it off and handed it to Jorge, saying, "You try it."

Skating was for Jason—not clothing. He was an amazing skater—well in fact, he was going to some sort of a skate camp this summer. West was heading for a camp for those who had "artistic" talents—in his case, singing. Jorge had broken out laughing the first time he heard. West was a great singer, but he hated singing in public—because… well, let's just say he had reached puberty and his voice was going through a bizarre stage. Alek was staying at home, and Jorge was going to visit his dad, who he flat-out hated, and was only visiting because his mom made him.

Jorge accepted the jacket from Jason, and pulled it on, flexing in the mirror. Jason grinned.

Jorge turned around, swiping back a few stray hairs from his forehead. "Well you guys?"

They were staring in amazement. "Oh my God Jorge," whispered Alek.

"What?" Jorge quickly looked around. "Do I look bad or something?" He started to rip off the jacket, but there was a cry of protest from West.

"Bad?" West gasped. "Jorge you look b-e-a-utiful, if you don't mind me saying…"

Jorge studied himself in the mirror. He did. It was the truth. The jacket seemed to make his hair glow a shiny blonde and his eyes looked as if he had suddenly outlined them in eyeliner. The color of his eyes was brought out like a tall, icy mountain or something. The jacket bent inwards and made him look intense and dramatic. He whirled around to look at his friends, and it was like fire had burned against him and everything seemed to stop.

"This jacket is magic."

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