The next morning, my mother was very nice to me. She made me breakfast in bed: eggs, toast, orange juice. She apologized again for yesterday, and I told her it was fine. She said Derek would be here soon and asked me to please be nice to him. I promised to try.
She insisted he was a good kid because his mother was her best friend, but I pointed out that didn’t necessarily mean he was good. My mother sighed and asked me to just give him a chance. I finished my breakfast and went to my room to get dressed.
I wanted to wear shorts because it was summer and very hot. My mother came to my door and suggested I wear jeans today. I said it was too hot for jeans. She looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t. I put on my blue shorts, a yellow top, and my blue sandals with the side buckle. I looked in the mirror and thought I looked fine. Then the doorbell rang and my stomach flipped. I went downstairs with my mother.
She opened the door to a woman her age, smiling. Behind her was a boy my height, maybe a little shorter, with very short hair and thick glasses. He wore a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and brown shoes, and he looked like a nerd. My mother exclaimed Margaret’s name and hugged the woman, then turned to the boy, saying he was so tall now.
Derek smiled, a weird smile. She introduced me as her son Alex. I said hi, and Derek said hey. The two mothers talked for a few minutes, then my mother suggested the boys go up to my room to listen to music and get to know each other. I wanted to say no, but I didn’t.
I led Derek up the stairs. My room was clean, with posters of bands and movies on the wall. Derek looked around and said it was a cool room, and I thanked him. I sat on my bed, and he sat on my desk chair.
I asked what music he liked. He said he didn’t know, anything. I put on some music I liked, a band called The nineteen seventy-five. Derek didn’t say anything. I started dancing a little, just moving my body to the music.
Derek just sat there staring at me, which was awkward. Then he asked if I wanted to play football. I stopped dancing and said no, I hated football. He said everyone likes football. I told him I never play. He looked at my sandals and remarked that I couldn’t play in sandals anyway.
Right. We sat in silence. I offered him some magazines to read. He looked at them and said they were girls’ magazines. I corrected him, saying they were about music and fashion. He muttered that it was the same thing. I felt my face get hot. I said boys can like music and fashion. Derek made a funny noise. This was going very badly.
I could not believe this boy. He sat on my chair and looked at my magazines like they were poison. I said again that they were not girls’ magazines, just magazines. Derek shrugged and said whatever. I wanted him to leave, but he stayed. I turned off the music and put on the TV instead.
There was a show I liked about some teenagers who started a babysitting club; it was cute and funny. Derek looked at the TV and asked what it was. I said it was a good show. He said it looked stupid. I didn’t say anything.
Then he grabbed the remote and changed the channel to a cartoon about robots fighting, stupid robots with big guns, and declared this was better. I was so mad, but I didn’t want to fight because my mother was downstairs and would hear. So I let him watch his dumb robot show.
I picked up one of my magazines and started reading. Derek laughed every time a robot got hurt, making a snorting noise that sounded like he had snot in his nose. I started calling him Snot Features in my head. We sat like that for half an hour, him watching robots and me reading. Then my phone rang. Thank God. It was Sam.
She asked what was up. I said nothing, she just wanted to talk, and asked how the boy was. I said terrible, he was watching robot cartoons. She said that sounded awful. I agreed, he was so weird. I was about to say more, but Derek turned up the TV volume very loud, so I could barely hear Sam.
I stood up and walked out of the room into the hallway. Sam was still talking, telling me that John Carpenter showed his private parts to Mary Morgan in the park last night. I exclaimed no way, that was so gross. She laughed, and we talked about how small his private parts probably were and whether they had fungus, gross stuff like that. Sam can be very funny.
By the time we finished talking, I was laughing a lot. I went back to my room, almost forgetting about Snot Features, but there he was, standing by my mirror, looking at the things on my table.
My heart stopped. He was holding one of my perfume bottles and sniffing it. I asked what he was doing. He looked at me and asked why I had so much girl stuff. I said it wasn’t girl stuff. He said it smelled like flowers, that’s girl perfume. I grabbed the bottle from his hand, saying it was unisex and he was too stupid to know the difference.
He pointed at my table and asked why I had so many nail polishes. I said that was none of his business. I put the perfume bottle back and turned away, sitting on my bed and picking up my magazine again. Derek didn’t move. Then he made a funny noise. I asked what now. He was pointing at my back, at my shorts. I looked behind me but couldn’t see anything.
Then I realized my underwear was showing, the top of my thong, it had ridden up a little. So what? It was one of my nice ones with a small rhinestone where the strings crossed. Derek’s face was red. He said I wore girls’ underwear. I denied it, saying it was unisex.
He insisted it was a thong, only girls wear thongs. I told him he didn’t know anything. He called me a fairy, said I wore girl stuff all the time. I stood up, very angry now, and called him a snotty little geek, saying no girl would ever date him, they all hated him. Derek’s face got redder.
He said I wanted to kiss boys, that’s why I dressed like that. I denied it, but he called me a poof. I retorted that he was the poof, that he wanted to kiss me, which was why he was staring at my underwear. He stepped closer, saying he wasn’t the one wearing girls’ knickers. I shot back that the only reason he thought they were girls’ knickers was because he’d never seen a girl in her underwear, because all girls hated him.
That made him really mad. He stepped even closer, his face right in mine, and said the only reason girls showed me their knickers was because they thought I was one of them, a girl. I saw red. I didn’t think. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. It wasn’t a hard slap; I’m not a fighter, I hate fighting. But Derek acted like I’d hit him with a hammer. He stared at me for a few seconds, then started screaming, loud screaming like a little kid. I heard footsteps on the stairs. Both our mothers came running into my room.
My mother asked what happened. Derek was holding his face and still making noise. He said I’d hit him, slapped him. My mother looked at me and asked why I’d hit him.
I said because he was rude about my underwear. Derek’s mother looked at me, then at Derek. She asked him what he’d said, but Derek didn’t answer. I turned around, my thong still showing a little.
Derek’s mother saw it and looked at my mother, asking if she let me wear things like that. My mother’s face got red, and she said it wasn’t Margaret’s business. Margaret protested that my son hit her son. My mother fired back that her son had been rude. They started arguing with loud voices and pointing fingers.
Derek stopped screaming and just stood there looking at the floor. I felt a little bad, but not very bad. In the end, Derek’s mother grabbed his arm and said they were leaving.
My mother said good. They went downstairs, the front door opened and closed. Good riddance, I thought. Snot Features was gone. My mother turned to me and said we needed to talk. I tried to say he started it, but she didn’t care who started it, I couldn’t hit people.
I told her he called me bad names. She asked what kind of names, but I didn’t want to say. I just said he did. My mother sighed and sat on my bed. She said if I wear girls’ underwear, I have to be careful who sees it. I insisted it was unisex, but she ignored me. Even girls have to be careful about showing their underwear, she said. I sat next to her.
Then she asked something strange: were thongs really comfortable? I looked at her. She wore old lady underwear, big white ones. I said yes, they’re very comfortable. She said hmm, maybe she’d try some. I was surprised. She suggested we could go shopping together for underwear. I agreed, okay. She hugged me.
At least we were still friends. I called Casey and told her Derek was gone. She asked if I wanted to come over, and I said yes, I’d be there soon. I told my mother I was going out. She looked a little sad, I think she wanted to spend the day with me, but I didn’t let that stop me. I put on my sandals and left.
I walked to Casey’s house fast. The sun was hot, and my sandals made clicking sounds on the sidewalk. I thought about Derek, his stupid face, his stupid robot cartoons. Good riddance. Casey lived ten minutes away. Her house was small but nice, with flowers in the front yard. I rang the bell. Casey opened the door wearing a yellow sundress and her red hair down. She told me to come in, Sam was already here. I walked inside.
Sam was in the living room eating chips on the couch. She exclaimed my name and asked how the boy was. I said awful, I slapped him. Sam’s mouth fell open. She asked, you what? I confirmed I slapped him because he called me a fairy. Casey came in and said good for me.
I told them he was so mean, he said my friends only liked me because they thought I was a girl. Sam stopped eating and said that wasn’t true. I knew, but it still hurt. Casey told me to sit down and tell them everything. I sat on the couch next to Sam.
I told them about Derek, his short hair, thick glasses, his stupid robot cartoon, the way he snotted when he laughed. I told them about the underwear, him seeing my thong, the names he called me. I told them about the slap, the mothers fighting, and Derek leaving.
When I finished, Sam was laughing. She apologized but said the way I told it was funny. I admitted it wasn’t funny at the time, but now it was. Casey nodded and said he sounded terrible, I was better off without him. I added that my mom now wanted to go shopping for thongs. Both girls laughed hard at that. Casey said no way.
I confirmed yes way, she’d asked if they were comfortable and I said yes. Sam wiped her eyes and said my mom was weird. I said she was trying, I guess. We sat for a while eating chips and talking. Then Casey asked if we wanted to see her new dress. Sam groaned that she already had a million dresses, but this one was special. Casey ran upstairs and came back with a red dress, sleeveless, round neck, crimson color.
I said wow. She said she bought it yesterday after I left. She held it against her body. Sam said it was nice, but I wasn’t sure because redheads have to be careful with red, too much red can look wrong. I didn’t say anything because Casey looked happy. Sam told her to try it on. Casey didn’t need much encouragement and went to the bathroom to change.
She came back in the red dress. It looked better than I thought; the color worked on her, her red hair looked nice with it. Sam said she looked great. Casey looked at me for confirmation. I said really, it was pretty. Casey smiled and turned around in front of the mirror. Sam said she helped her tie her hair back to look more posh, like Posh Spice.
I remarked that I was supposed to be the posh one. We laughed. Then Casey looked at me and asked if I wanted to try it on. I said no, it was hers. She insisted I might look good in it. I protested that I was a boy, boys don’t wear dresses.
Sam pointed out I’d worn one yesterday and the day before for the costume. I argued that was for the costume. She said so, try this on too. I shook my head, but Casey kept asking, please, just to see. I thought about what my mother had said, that they think I’m one of the girls. But Casey was my friend, she wasn’t being mean, she just wanted to share her new dress. I finally agreed, but only for one minute. Casey clapped and gave me the dress.
I went to the bathroom, took off my top and shorts, and kept my underwear on. The dress was soft and slippery like the black one. I pulled it over my head. It fit differently than the black dress, tighter at the waist, looser at the chest. I looked in the mirror and thought it looked good, really good, better than it looked on Casey actually, but I wouldn’t say that to her, that would be mean.
I walked out. Sam gasped, oh my God, Alex. I asked what. She said I looked amazing. Casey stared at me, her mouth open. I asked if it was bad. She said no, it was better than on her. I said that wasn’t true, but she insisted the color looked good on me. I looked in the mirror again.
My skin is pale, and the red made me look less pale; my dark hair looked nice against the red. I noted it was baggy at the chest. Casey nodded and said I needed a bra. She went to her room and came back with a bra that was too small for her now and told me to put it on.
I went back to the bathroom, put on the bra; it was padded a little and gave me small shapes at the chest. I put the dress back on. Now it fit better, the chest wasn’t baggy anymore.
I came out. Sam said perfect. Casey found some old socks and told me to put them in the bra for more shape. I said no, that was too much, but she said just try. I put the socks in, and now I had small breasts, not big, just enough to fill the top of the dress. I looked very different.
Casey asked me to turn around, and Sam said my butt looked good in that dress. I blushed. Casey tied my hair back into a ponytail and said now I needed makeup.
I refused, but she persuaded me with just a little for the effect. I said yes because I was curious. Casey did my makeup: a little eyeliner, some blush, pink lip gloss. I looked in the mirror and didn’t look like Alex anymore; I looked like a girl, a pretty girl. I asked if that was weird. Sam said a little, but in a good way.
Then Casey’s mother came in. She saw me in the red dress, with the bra and makeup, and stopped. She said, oh. I felt my face get hot. She looked at me for a long time, then smiled and said I looked very nice, but I should wear tights with that dress even though it was summer.
I let out a breath and thanked her. She left without making a big deal. Sam said that was close. Casey said her mother was getting used to me. I looked in the mirror again and thought maybe it was okay to look like a girl just for today, just for fun.
Casey looked at me in the mirror and said we should go see Jamie. My heart jumped. I protested that I couldn’t go out like this, but she asked why not, I looked amazing. I reminded her I was wearing a dress, a bra, and makeup. She said Jamie would love it. I shook my head, saying I couldn’t, people would see me. She suggested we walk fast, it was only ten minutes to Jamie’s house. Sam smiled and urged me to do it, Jamie would want to see. I thought about Jamie, her dark skin, curly hair, and her smile.
The last time I wore a dress she said I looked cute. Maybe she would say it again. I agreed, but warned that if anyone laughed I was leaving. Casey assured me no one would laugh, they’d be jealous. I looked at my blue sandals, they didn’t match the red dress. I said I needed different shoes. Casey found black shoes with low heels that fit okay.
She said now I looked perfect. Sam stayed at Casey’s house to rest, so Casey and I walked to Jamie’s house. The sun was still hot, and the dress was light, feeling nice in the heat, but I felt strange. People looked at us, two girls in nice dresses walking down the street. I kept my head down. Casey grabbed my arm and told me to walk like I belonged and not be shy. I tried to stand taller. Then I saw someone, a boy walking toward us. It was John Carpenter, the boy who had showed his private parts in the park.
I whispered oh no. Casey said just keep walking. John got closer and looked at us. He stopped and said hey, I know you. Casey smiled and said hi John. John looked at me, at my dress, makeup, hair, and his eyes went wide.
He asked, Alex, is that you? I wanted to run away, but I said hi John. He said he thought I was a girl, I mean he always thought I was a boy but now I looked like a girl. Casey explained it was the costume for the carnival. John nodded slowly and looked at my chest, at the small shapes from the bra. He said you have boobs. I felt my face get hot and denied it, saying they were socks. John laughed, socks? Casey said it was a long story and we had to go. John said wait, looking at me, you look pretty for a boy.
I didn’t know what to say. He asked if I was dating anyone. Casey started laughing, saying John, Alex is a boy, you’re a boy. He shrugged, doesn’t matter these days. I felt sick and said we had to go, bye John. I grabbed Casey’s arm and pulled her away. John watched us go, smiling. When we were far enough, Casey laughed hard, exclaiming that John Carpenter wanted to date me. I said it wasn’t funny, it was weird.
She agreed it was very weird but also a little funny. I insisted it wasn’t funny at all. We kept walking and soon got to Jamie’s house, a big white house with flowers in front. Casey rang the bell. A girl opened the door, Jamie’s older sister Maya. She looked like Jamie, same dark skin and curly hair but taller and not smiling as much. Maya looked me up and down and then at Casey. Casey introduced me, saying it was Alex in a dress. Maya shrugged and said come in. We walked inside; the house was cool and dark, smelling like food. Maya pointed upstairs and said Jamie was up there.
We went up. My heart beat fast, wondering what Jamie would think. Casey knocked on Jamie’s door. Jamie’s voice said come in. Casey opened the door. Jamie was sitting on her bed in shorts and a tank top, her curly hair in a bun. She looked at Casey, then at me, and her mouth opened. She said Alex? I nodded and said hi. Jamie stood up and walked over to me. She looked at my dress, makeup, hair, shoes, then smiled and said I looked really nice.
I let out a breath and asked if she thought so. She said yes and asked me to turn around. I turned; the dress was low in the back. She said my shoulders looked good. I blushed. She asked where I got the dress, and I explained it was Casey’s, she let me try it on. Casey added that it looked better on me. Jamie nodded and agreed. I felt so happy. Then Jamie noticed my chest and stared. She asked what that was. I said socks, to fill the bra. Jamie laughed a real laugh, saying socks, that’s funny. Casey said it works. Jamie touched my shoulder; her hand was warm. She said I should wear dresses more often, I looked good. I said maybe for the carnival. She said for more than that. She looked at my eyes and then away. Maya came to the door and looked at me again. She asked why I was dressed like that. Casey said for the carnival, Spice Girls.
Maya said oh right, Jamie told me. Maya looked me up and down one more time and said I looked like the real thing, then left. Jamie took us to the kitchen and gave us juice. I was careful not to spill on my dress. Casey told Jamie about John Carpenter, how he said I was pretty and asked if I was dating anyone. Jamie laughed, saying John Carpenter was gross. I agreed, adding he showed his private parts to Mary Morgan. Jamie said she’d heard about that, he was weird.
We talked for a while about school, the carnival, and Derek. Jamie listened, not talking much, which was normal, but she kept looking at me, at my dress, at my face. It made me feel special. Then Jamie said I should keep the dress, it looked better on me than Casey. Casey pretended to be mad, hey! Jamie said it was true.
I smiled. We went up to Jamie’s room and listened to music for two hours. Jamie sat close to me, our arms touched, and my heart raced. Then Jamie said she was going to take a shower and we could stay or come back tomorrow. Casey said we should go, it was getting late.
We said goodbye to Jamie. At the door, Jamie hugged me and held me for a long time. She whispered in my ear, see you tomorrow. I said see you. Casey and I walked back to her house. I felt light and happy. Jamie liked the dress, Jamie liked me in the dress. Maybe my mother was wrong. Maybe my friends didn’t think I was one of the girls. Maybe Jamie thought I was something else.