The carnival was almost here, just one more day. We practiced every afternoon: walk, pose, turn, walk back. I was getting good at it, and I did not trip anymore. I could walk in the powder blue dress like I had worn dresses my whole life. Jamie watched me a lot, smiling whenever I did well.
On Thursday we met at Taylor’s house. Her backyard was big and perfect for practicing. Taylor reminded us that tomorrow was the big day and asked if we were ready. Sam admitted she was nervous, and Casey felt the same. I was nervous too, but also excited.
We practiced for two hours and then sat in Taylor’s living room to make a list of everything we needed. Costumes, check. Makeup, check. Shoes, check. Tights for me, and Casey had an extra. A bra for me, one my mother bought, the padded one. Jamie suggested we meet early, three hours before the parade. When Sam asked where, Jamie offered her house because of the big bathroom and good light, and everyone agreed. Then Jamie looked at me and said I could come early to help her set up. I said okay, my heart fluttering because early meant time alone with Jamie.
After the meeting, Jamie walked me home and asked if I was scared. I admitted I was a little, because people would see me in a dress with makeup. When she asked if I cared what people thought, I told her I cared a little. She told me to stop caring, that I looked good and that was all that mattered. She was right, but it was still hard. We stopped at my gate and she kissed me, quick and soft, telling me she would see me tomorrow. I said the same and went inside.
My mother was in the living room sewing something. When I asked what it was, she said a flag for my costume, explaining that Posh Spice wore a Union Jack dress but since I was wearing the blue dress, she was making me a small flag to carry. I looked at the red, white, and blue fabric she was sewing by hand, and I told her it was really nice.
She said I was her son and she wanted me to look good. I sat next to her, watching her sew, and then I told her I was dating Jamie. My mother stopped sewing and stared at me. She repeated the word, and I said yes, that Jamie was my girlfriend and we were dating.
She asked for how long, and I said a few days but that I had liked her for months. When my mother asked if Jamie was nice, I told her she was the nicest person I knew. She nodded slowly and said okay.
I asked if that was all she would say, and she replied that she was surprised but that Jamie was a girl and I was a boy, so it was normal. I pointed out that Jamie was also my friend, one of the girls my mother had once said thought I was one of them. My mother sighed and said she had been wrong and was sorry. I told her I wanted her to know that Jamie liked me as a boy, even when I wore dresses. After a quiet minute, my mother said she believed me and went back to sewing.
I went to my room and texted Jamie that I had told my mom about us. Jamie asked what she said, and I replied that she said okay. Jamie thought that was good. I texted that I would see her tomorrow, and she wished me sweet dreams. That night I dreamed about the carnival.
I was walking in the parade with thousands of people watching, pointing, and laughing. Then Jamie took my hand, pulled me off the street, and kissed me. The dream changed, and we were on the mountain again with the powder blue dress and the stick between my legs. I woke up sweaty.
Morning came fast on carnival day. I got up early, showered, and put on shorts and a t-shirt. My mother made pancakes, calling it a special breakfast for the big day. I thanked her, and we ate together while she asked about the parade: where we would walk and what time it started. I told her the parade started at two and we were meeting at Jamie’s at eleven, which gave us plenty of time.
After breakfast I packed my bag with the powder blue dress, the bra, the tights, shoes, and the makeup Sam gave me. I double-checked everything and walked to Jamie’s house, my heart beating fast. Today was the day everyone would see me in a dress, but I did not care because Jamie would be next to me, and that was all that mattered.
The sun was bright with no clouds, a perfect day for a parade. My bag felt heavy with the dress, bra, tights, and shoes inside, and I thought about what people would say and think. Then I thought about Jamie’s hand in mine and her smile, and that made me brave.
Jamie opened the door before I could ring the bell, wearing shorts and a tank top with no makeup yet. I told her I could not wait, and she smiled, telling me to come in. I followed her into the quiet house where her parents were still asleep. Jamie said we had the bathroom to ourselves because Maya was staying at a friend’s house, which was good.
Jamie took me upstairs to the big bathroom with white tiles, a large mirror, and good light. She said she would set up the makeup while I started getting dressed. I went to her bedroom, closed the door, and took off my shorts and shirt. I put on the tights first, light and sheer, making my legs look smooth. Then the padded bra my mother bought, its soft cups strange against my chest. Finally, the powder blue dress, stepping into it and pulling it up, the fabric cool and slippery. I could not reach the hook at the back, so I went to the bathroom where Jamie was laying out makeup on the counter.
I asked for help, and she turned around, her eyes going wide as she told me I looked amazing. I thanked her but reminded her about the back. Her fingers touched my back, doing up the hook and zipper. She said it was perfect. I looked in the mirror, and the dress fit like a dream, the color soft and floaty. I looked like a pretty girl, but I was a boy with a girlfriend.
Jamie told me to sit and said she would do my makeup. I sat on a stool while she stood in front of me, starting with foundation, her fingers gentle on my face. She told me to close my eyes, and I did. She put soft brown eyeshadow on my lids, then thin black eyeliner. She told me to open, and when I did, she put mascara on my lashes, making them feel heavy. Then pink blush on my cheeks, and dark pink lipstick, almost red. She told me to look. I looked in the mirror and did not recognize myself: my eyes bigger, lips fuller, skin smooth. Jamie said I looked beautiful, and I felt my face get hot under the makeup.
The doorbell rang, and Jamie said it would be the others, telling me to stay while she let them in. I looked at myself in the mirror, turning left and right, the dress moving with me light as air. Jamie came back with Sam, Casey, and Taylor, and they all stopped when they saw me.
Sam said I looked like a real girl, a beautiful one, though I said I was not a real girl. Casey nodded that Jamie did a good job, and Taylor put her bag down, ready to get into her Sporty Spice costume. We took turns in the bathroom while Jamie did everyone’s makeup. Casey became Ginger Spice with red lips and dark eyes. Sam became Baby Spice with pink cheeks, pink gloss, and pigtails.
Taylor became Sporty Spice with little makeup and a ponytail. Jamie did herself last, Scary Spice with dark eyes, brown lips, and her curly hair big and wild. When we finished, we stood in front of the mirror, five Spice Girls. Sam said this was really happening, and Taylor confirmed we would walk in two hours. My stomach flipped, but Jamie took my hand and told me not to be nervous. I pointed out that she was not wearing a dress, and she replied that I was wearing a costume. She was right, it was a costume for the carnival, but it felt like more than that.
Jamie’s mother came downstairs, saw us in the hallway, and exclaimed that we all looked wonderful. We thanked her, and she looked at me, saying the dress was perfect on me. I thanked her again. She took lots of photos, in the living room, in the garden, by the front door. Then Jamie’s father came down, laughed, and said he remembered the Spice Girls. He took more photos before his phone rang. He answered and listened, then announced the parade started in one hour and we should eat something first. Jamie’s mother made sandwiches, and we ate quickly, though I was too nervous to taste anything. Taylor announced it was time to go.
We walked to the parade start near the town center, and people stared at our group of five girls, one in a powder blue dress. But I was not a girl, I was Alex, and Jamie held my hand. We reached the meeting point where other groups were already waiting: clowns, dancers, a marching band. A woman with a clipboard came over and asked if we were the Spice Girls. Taylor said yes, and the woman told us we were number forty-two and to line up behind the cheerleaders. We found our spot, my heart pounding, and Jamie squeezed my hand, saying together. I repeated the word. The band started playing, and the parade began.
The band played loud with drums, trumpets, and cymbals, and my heart beat with the drums. The cheerleaders went first, jumping and yelling while people clapped. Then it was our turn, number forty-two, the Spice Girls. Taylor asked if we were ready, and we all nodded. I was not ready, but I walked anyway. We stepped onto the street under the hot sun, the dress light and my tights warm. Hundreds of people, maybe thousands, lined both sides and watched us. I wanted to look at the ground, but Jamie was next to me walking tall and confident, so I looked up. We did our walk, one two three four, poses, turns, moving even though the band’s music was not ours. A little girl pointed at me and called out to her mommy to look at Posh Spice. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. People clapped, took photos, and cheered; a man yelled that he loved the Spice Girls. I felt strange in a good way. Jamie looked at me and winked, and I kept walking.
The parade route was long, down Main Street, around the square, past the old church. Halfway through, my feet began to hurt from the tight shoes with their low but hard heels, but I did not stop. Casey waved at everyone, having fun. Sam blew kisses like a little doll. Taylor marched like a soldier, truly Sporty Spice. Jamie was fierce with dark eyes and big hair, owning the street.
And I walked, smiled, and posed. For one afternoon, I was Posh Spice. A group of teenagers yelled from the side, asking if that was a boy. My stomach dropped, and Jamie heard them too. She moved closer, put her arm around my waist, and told me to keep walking and not look at them. I kept walking as the teenagers laughed, but I did not look. We turned a corner to new crowds and new cheers.
A woman said my dress was beautiful, and I thanked her. A man said I looked just like her, and I smiled.
The parade went on for an hour, maybe longer, and I lost track of time until I saw the big sign that read Parade Finish. We walked under it, people clapped one last time, and then it was over. We stopped walking, my legs shaking. Sam was out of breath, and we all agreed we did it. Casey repeated the words, Taylor high-fived everyone, and Jamie hugged me, saying I was perfect. I told her she was, too. We found a bench near the square and sat down, my feet killing me. I took off the shoes, and the tights were sweaty, but I did not care. Taylor said we needed water, so Casey went to a food stand and came back with five bottles. I drank mine fast, half the bottle in one go. Sam asked what we would do now, and Taylor pointed out the carnival had rides, games, and food. Casey wanted to go on the Ferris wheel, and Sam agreed. Jamie looked at me, asking if I wanted to stay. I thought about people still looking at me in the dress and makeup, but Jamie would be next to me, so I said yes, let us stay.
We walked to the carnival rides, and the Ferris wheel was big and red and white. The line was long, but we waited. People looked at us; some smiled, some stared, a few pointed. I tried not to care. When we got to the front, the man running the ride looked at me and asked if I was a boy or a girl. My face felt hot, but Jamie immediately said I was a girl, Posh Spice. The man shrugged and let us on. Jamie and I sat in one seat, Sam and Casey in front, Taylor behind. The Ferris wheel moved up and up until the whole town was below us, small and quiet. Jamie took my hand and asked if I was okay. I told her I was now, and she said those teenagers were mean and to ignore them, that I looked beautiful and that was all that mattered. The Ferris wheel went down and up again, and by the third time I stopped being scared and just enjoyed the view.
After the Ferris wheel we played games: ring toss, balloon darts. Sam won a small stuffed bear. We ate pink, sticky cotton candy and walked around looking at everything. The sun began to go down, and the sky turned orange. Taylor said we should head back because her parents were picking her up. We walked to the meeting point, and one by one my friends left: Casey’s mom, Sam’s dad, Taylor’s mom. Then it was just Jamie and me. Jamie asked if I could walk home in those shoes, and I told her I would take them off. I carried my shoes, and we walked barefoot on the grass as the sun disappeared and the sky turned purple.
We reached Jamie’s gate, and she said tonight was perfect. I agreed and thanked her for being next to me. She kissed me, soft and sweet, and said she would see me tomorrow. I said the same and walked home barefoot, carrying my shoes and wearing the powder blue dress. People looked at me, a boy in a dress walking down the street, but I did not care anymore. I had Jamie, I had my friends, I had the parade, and that was enough.
I walked up my driveway. The powder blue dress was dusty at the hem, my feet dirty, my makeup probably smudged, but I felt good, really good. I opened the front door to a quiet house and called for my mom. No answer. I found her sitting on the couch with the TV on but the sound off. She looked at me and her eyes went wide. She said my name. I said I knew I looked like a mess, but she said no, I looked different. I asked if it was good different or bad different. She stood up, walked over to me, and looked at my dress, my face, my hair.
She realized the parade was today and said she forgot, apologizing because she had a lot of work and lost track of time. I told her it was okay. When she asked how it went, I said it was really good, that people clapped, some teenagers were mean, but Jamie was there. My mother nodded and touched the sleeve of my dress, the powder blue fabric we had bought together. She said it looked better on me than it did in the shop, and I smiled, telling her Jamie had said the same thing.
My mother was quiet for a moment, and then she said she was proud of me. I asked her to repeat it, and she said she was proud of me for being myself and for not caring what people think. I felt something warm in my chest and thanked her. She offered to heat up soup for dinner, but I was too tired and just wanted to go to bed. She told me to take off the dress and hang it up because it was a nice dress.
I went to my room and looked in the mirror. My makeup was a mess, eyeliner smudged, lipstick mostly gone, blush faded, but I looked happy. I unzipped the dress, stepped out of it, and hung it in the closet right next to my shorts and jeans. I took off the sweaty, dirty tights and threw them in the laundry. I took off the padded bra and put it in my drawer.
I put on my pajamas, soft cotton shorts and a t-shirt, and washed my face in the bathroom. The makeup came off in dark streaks of pink, black, and brown, and when I looked up, my face was clean, just Alex with no makeup and no dress, but still the same person. I went back to my room and lay on my bed.
My phone buzzed. Jamie asked if I was home safe, and I texted that I was, tired and happy. She said I was the best Posh Spice, and I told her she was the best Scary Spice. She wrote that we were the best couple, and I smiled at my phone, texting goodnight, girlfriend. She replied goodnight, boyfriend, and sweet dreams. I put my phone down and thought about the day: the parade, the clapping, the mean teenagers, Jamie’s arm around my waist.
I thought about my mother saying she was proud of me, and that meant more than anything. I closed my eyes and dreamed about the carnival, not a scary dream but a good one: Jamie and me on the Ferris wheel holding hands, the whole town below us small and quiet and safe.
When I woke up, the sun was in my eyes on Sunday morning. No parade, no practice, no plans. I lay in bed for a while, listening to the birds, until my phone buzzed. Jamie texted, asking if I wanted breakfast at her house because her mom was making pancakes. I texted that I was on my way, got dressed not in a dress but just shorts, a t-shirt, and my blue sandals, and looked in the mirror. I looked like me.
I walked to Jamie’s house under the warm sun, summer truly here. Jamie opened the door in pink pajamas with little hearts, said hi, and kissed me right there at the door where anyone might see, but I did not care. We went to the kitchen where Jamie’s mom was at the stove with pancakes on a griddle. She told me to sit down because I looked hungry, and I thanked her. Jamie’s dad was at the table reading a newspaper, looked up, and called me Spice Girl, asking how the parade was.
I said it was really good, and he said he heard I was the best one. Jamie rolled her eyes and said dad, but he insisted he was just saying what he heard. We ate lots of pancakes with syrup and butter, and after breakfast Jamie and I went to her room and sat on her bed.
She asked what I wanted to do that day, and I said anything. She suggested maybe we should tell the others about us, tell everyone at school, no more secret. I thought about how people at school could be mean, but I did not care anymore and said okay, let us tell everyone. Jamie smiled and said good, then kissed me longer this time. We went to find the others.
Monday morning came fast. I woke up early with my stomach full of nerves because today we would tell everyone at school about Jamie and me, no more secrets. I dressed carefully in jeans, a white t-shirt, my blue sandals, no makeup, no dress, just Alex.
My mother was in the kitchen with coffee and toast and said I looked nice. I thanked her, and she asked if I was ready for school. I thought I was. She hugged me and told me to remember she was proud of me. I smiled and said I remembered. I walked to school under the bright sun with birds singing. Jamie was waiting at the gate in jeans and a yellow top, her curly hair down. She said hi and took my hand right there where everyone could see. People looked, some stared, some smiled, a few whispered, but I did not care. We walked inside together, hand in hand.
Sam saw us first, ran over, and asked if we were telling people. Jamie said yes. Casey and Taylor joined us, and Taylor said good for you. The first person we told was a girl in our class named Maria. I told her Jamie and I were dating, and Maria smiled and said okay, cool. We told more people, and most said cool or nice. A few looked surprised, and one boy laughed, but no one was really mean.
Then we saw John Carpenter, the boy who had shown his private parts in the park and said I looked pretty at the carnival. He looked at our hands, then at me, and concluded I was dating a girl, not a boy. I said yes. He said good, because he thought I was pretty but did not want to date a boy. Jamie laughed and told John that no one wanted to date him, and he walked away with his face red.
At lunch we sat at our usual table with me, Jamie, Sam, Casey, and Taylor. Everyone looked at us, but we just ate and talked. Sam asked how we felt now that everyone knew, and I said good, relieved. Jamie said no more secrets. Taylor raised her water bottle to toast Alex and Jamie, and we all clinked bottles. After school, Jamie and I walked home together. She said today was not so bad, and I agreed that I had thought it would be worse.
She said people were getting used to me, the real me. I thought about that: the real me, a boy who wears shorts and t-shirts but also dresses sometimes, who likes girls’ underwear because it’s comfortable, a boy who has a girlfriend. I was not one of the girls, as my mother had once thought, but I was not one of the boys either, not the kind who played football and made fun of people. I was just Alex, and that was enough.
We got to my gate, and I asked Jamie if she wanted to come in. She said yes. We found my mother in the kitchen making dinner, and I introduced them. My mother smiled and said dinner was in an hour and Jamie could stay. We thanked her, and Jamie and I went to my room.
We sat on my bed, and she looked at my closet with the door open, the powder blue dress hanging there. She asked if I would wear it again, and I said maybe for special occasions, like dates. She said yes, like dates, and kissed me softly, sweetly, telling me that next Saturday she was taking me to the movies and I should wear the dress. I said okay.
We sat together for a while, listening to music, not talking much, just being together, until my mother called us for dinner. We ate together, the three of us, and my mother asked Jamie about school, her family, and the carnival. Jamie answered everything politely and friendly. After dinner,
Jamie said goodbye, and I walked her to the door. She said she would see me tomorrow, kissed me on the cheek, and walked away. I went back inside, and my mother was doing the dishes. She said Jamie was nice, and I agreed, saying I was glad I found her. I went to my room, looked at the powder blue dress one more time, then closed the closet door.
I lay on my bed and thought about everything: the fight with my mother, the awful boy Derek, the carnival, the parade, Jamie. My mother had said my friends thought I was one of the girls, but she was wrong. They did not think I was one of the girls; they thought I was their friend. And Jamie thought I was her boyfriend. That was better, so much better. I smiled, closed my eyes, and fell asleep dreaming of Ferris wheels and powder blue dresses and Jamie’s hand in mine.