Be a girl

“Say, Ben, isn’t your dad’s birthday coming up soon?” Claire asked. We were walking home together as per usual, and her question took me a little by surprise. I didn’t immediately have an answer. I almost asked her how she knew, but mentally kicked myself for even thinking that. Of course she knew. She knew everything about everyone.

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s in a few weeks, why?” I replied. It did seem rather strange that she would ask this, and I was curious as to why. What did my dad’s birthday matter to her?

“Did you have any ideas for what to give him?”

I shook my head. “I hadn’t thought about it, no. I don’t usually give him a present.”

“Well, I have an idea for something he might like,” Claire said. Ah, so that was why she brought it up. Though I wasn’t sure I could trust that her idea would be any good. Still, an idea was better than no idea, so I was tentatively willing to hear her out. “I just need your dad’s bra size,” she added.

What the fuck? It was a good thing we were walking home right now, so no one was around to eavesdrop on us, because that was not a question anyone should hear. But seriously, what could her idea possibly be that she needed that sort of information?

I gave her a stunned look, though she was too busy keeping her eyes on the footpath to notice my confused stare. I couldn’t believe she’d just asked that. I didn’t want to believe that she’d just asked that. “What?” I said, dumbfounded. She had some serious explaining to do.

“I just need your dad’s bra size,” she repeated.

“Why?”

“Right, so, I was thinking that maybe your dad would appreciate a binder.”

What? “That doesn’t explain why you need my dad’s bra size…”

Claire looked confused for a moment, before breaking into soft giggles. “Not that kind of binder, silly! I mean a chest binder. It looks kinda like a vest, and it’s designed to squash the chest so it appears flat.”

I had never heard of such a thing before. Although, it did sound like a decent idea. Dad had always seemed more distant and depressed ever since I had transformed him. And, assuming that this binder functioned as Claire said, having a chest that appeared flat might help him feel more like his old self. Maybe.

There was, of course, a glaring issue with my friend’s plan. “So, how do you propose we obtain my dad’s bra size exactly?” I asked incredulously. “It’s not like I know what it is.”

“I mean, you could just ask,” Claire suggested.

“Absolutely not!” I exclaimed, appalled that she would dare even suggest such a thing. “I can’t just ask him that! It’s weird! It’s inappropriate! And he’ll get suspicious! No. Not happening.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s not that weird.”

I gave her a stern glare, pointing my index finger at her. “Yes, it is. I’m not doing that.”

“I can ask him for you if you’d like.”

“What!? No! That’s even weirder! I forbid it.”

“Well, how do you suggest we get your dad’s bra size then?” She stared down at me dismissively as she spoke. As if her idea was the best and only way to acquire such information.

I thought for a moment, rubbing at my chin. “Well, dad will be at work for the next few hours, so we could maybe sneak into his room and look at the tag on one of his bras.”

“Alright. Just text me the size once you know it.”

I frowned. “Um, no, you’re coming with me.” The idea of entering dad’s room to search through his clothing was already weird enough for me, but searching through his bras specifically was just too much. If this was going to happen, I was going to have someone with me. Someone who felt significantly less awkward about handling that particular kind of underwear than I.

“Oh, ok,” she said, blinking in surprise.

We made a quick course correction and began heading towards my home, rather than Claire’s. It didn’t take us long to arrive. I led us in through the back door, and we were greeted with a house devoid of other humans. Good. Dad hadn’t come home from work early for some unknown reason.

I slowly opened the door to dad’s room. My heart raced, and it was difficult to get under control. It felt wrong to do this. Like an invasion of privacy. But I had hope that Claire’s idea for a present would really help my dad, so I pushed through the nerves.

As we began sifting through the wardrobe, I told Claire to be careful and to return everything to how she found it, so that dad wouldn’t notice anything awry. The last thing I needed was for dad to wonder why his clothes had been rearranged, and have to admit that I was rummaging through them.

I had no idea where dad kept his underwear, so I picked a random spot to start searching through. I searched quickly through his stuff, noting that he had kept all of his old clothes, despite the fact that none of them fit him anymore. Holding out hope that he would get his old body back perhaps? I didn’t like his chances, but I couldn’t blame him for the optimism.

Once I found what I was looking for, I called out to Claire that she could stop her own search. Strange feelings flowed through me as I held the undergarment. It wasn’t just that it was a bra, an article of clothing that I wished I could wear without it being weird, it was the fact that it belonged to my father. I was hit with a sudden wave of guilt. I was of course the reason he needed to wear bras in the first place. I’d done well thus far keeping my promise to not blame myself for dad and James’ current conditions, but holding this bra in my hand was testing me.

I inspected it closely, trying my best to shove away the swirl of emotions coursing through me. I had a mission to fulfill. I was searching for a tag that would hopefully tell me its size. Unfortunately, I found no such tag, disappointing me immensely. I grabbed another one, and it also did not detail the size.

I sighed, placing the bras back where they belonged. “I think dad tore off tags. I don’t know his size.”

“Hmm,” Claire said, “Maybe I could take one and let Emily take a look. Maybe she can discern your dad’s size.”

“You’re not stealing one of my dad’s bras,” I stated curtly, staring her down sternly.

“It’s not stealing…” Claire replied, waving her hand in a vague gesture, “It’s just borrowing without permission.”

“Stealing,” I repeated, glaring her down even harder.

“He won’t even notice it was ever missing.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well then, got any other ideas on how to find out your dad’s bra size?” Claire asked, placing both hands on her hips. She had a good point. Asking dad was still out of the question. So, how could I garner this information? Where would I find it? I racked my brain for any ideas, rubbing at my temples to help me think.

I had one idea left, though I didn’t like it. It was only slightly preferable to asking dad, as it would avoid him getting suspicious. There was one other person who likely knew my dad’s bra size: mum. I informed Claire of this, and she raised an eyebrow at me.

“Are you sure she’d know?” Claire asked, “Don’t your parents hate each other?”

I frowned. “Well yes. But mum helped dad get a new wardrobe after I transformed him, so surely she’d know.”

Claire pursed her lips and looked around the room suspiciously. “If you say so…” She didn’t sound convinced in the slightest, which worried me a little. But it didn’t matter. Mum would be here soon enough to drop off James; a perfect opportunity to ask her.

I told Claire she was welcome to stick around while we waited for mum, to which she gave an eager affirmation. We headed to the lounge room and booted up a multiplayer video game to play together, and the wait for mum to arrive flew by in no time.

Claire followed me to the front door after the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and James immediately pushed his way past Claire and me, eager to get to his room and change into his boy clothes.

“Hi mum,” I said meekly.

Mum looked up at my tall friend, caught off guard by the sight of her. “Oh, hello Ben’s friend,” she said with a stunned expression.

An awkward silence broke out all of a sudden. I knew that now was the best time to ask the question that was on my mind. But I clammed up, like I always did. The words sat on the tip of my tongue but refused to leave my mouth. Claire lightly kicked me in the leg, her subtle way of telling me to get on with it, to say something. But I couldn’t. All I could do was gently rub my hands on my shorts to help calm my nerves.

I was trying to ask my mum if she knew my dad’s bra size. Embarrassing was an understatement. And it was moments like these that my voice always decided to go on holiday without me.

“Well, I better head home,” mum announced, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun with your friend.” She smiled at me warmly, before turning and heading back to her car. I watched as she hopped inside the vehicle and drove off, my opportunity completely wasted.

Why did I have to be so useless?

I continued to rub my shorts to soothe myself. Something I desperately needed after that abysmal interaction. That really was the only word to describe my attempt at asking such a simple question: abysmal. It was a never ending cycle, really, and I was sick of it. I wished I could just say things when I wanted to. But even something as simple as that was still too difficult for me.

“Why didn’t you ask her? That was the intention, right?” Claire asked incredulously.

I gave myself an extra moment to recover before responding to Claire’s questions. “I don’t know,” I said, the distress evident in my voice, “I just couldn’t.”

“Ok?” She was understandably confused, but I had no better explanation. That was the best she was going to get.

“Did you want to stay over for a bit longer?” I asked quietly, quickly shifting the topic away from my woeful attempt at asking my mum a simple question. I no longer wanted to talk about it. Plus, I needed to relax after that interaction, and spending time with Claire seemed conducive to that.

“Yeah sure,” she replied, “But we should probably do some homework before returning to playing games.”

“Homework? What’s that?” I joked, getting a giggle out of my friend.

“Believe it or not,” Claire said, “Some of us have to study to get good grades.”

“‘Study’ is not in my vocabulary,” I said, sticking my tongue out. Claire crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave me a look of faux disappointment that rivalled my father. I sighed and relented. “Fine. I’ll do it purely for your benefit.”

“My Benefit you say?” she giggled.

“Shut up,” I laughed.

***

With little idea for what subject I should study since I didn’t usually do any homework, Claire suggested that we do Maths Methods; the class that we shared together. It was as good an idea as any, so I agreed. I didn’t exactly need to study for this subject, but Claire felt that she did, and I gladly helped her with the areas with which she was struggling. We had recently just moved on from differential calculus onto integral calculus, and she was somewhat struggling with the conceptual link, so I did my best at explaining it. I mentioned that the fundamental theorem of calculus, which proved the link between the two aspects of calculus, was in fact integral to its study, which got a good laugh out of Claire.

I’d say I was engrossed in the task, but the truth was we spent less than half of our time actually studying. We were far too busy making silly maths puns. Fine by me. I was simply enjoying the time with my friend, not particularly caring for the study, though Claire did greatly appreciate the help I gave her.

“Don’t tell me Ben is actually studying for once!”

I swivelled in my chair to see dad standing in the doorway with fake shock written on his face, which quickly shifted into a cocky grin. Had we really been studying for that long? It didn’t feel that long, though that was perhaps due to being with my friend. I rolled my eyes at his rather inane comment.

Dad was wearing his new work attire: a women’s suit with pants. It was the closest he could get to the kind of clothing he wore to work before his transformation. He had foregone the makeup that he wore during the interview for this job, which somewhat surprised me. Not because I thought he wanted to wear makeup, but because I figured his workplace would expect it of him, given that they would think him a woman. But that seemed to not be the case, which I was sure dad was pleased about.

“Tell me, Claire, what’s the secret to getting Ben to study?”

“You gotta be me,” Claire snickered with a silly grin on her face.

“Well then, maybe I should enlist your help when it’s exam time.”

Claire placed a lone finger on her chin pensively. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea. I’d be sure to keep a close watchful eye on Ben.” As she finished speaking, she placed her hands over her eyes as though they were binoculars and turned to stare at me through them.

“Oh my god, stop humouring him!” I said, exasperated.

Claire giggled, getting too much enjoyment out of this. I frowned, and turned my attention back to dad. “What did you want?”

“I was just wondering if your friend would be staying for dinner.”

“I can leave, if it’s too much hassle,” Claire replied.

Dad waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense! We’d be happy to have you.” He paused briefly before continuing, looking slightly downcast now. “I don’t know if Ben told you, but he didn’t have any friends at his old school. So, I appreciate you sticking by him, even after” – he gestured vaguely at my friend – “you know. It means a lot to me, and I’m sure it means a lot to Ben.”

Claire’s face went flush, her skin going a pale pink colour. “Thank you, Mr Ashford,” she said, smiling warmly at my father. “Ben didn’t mention he had no friends at his previous school, though I strongly suspected it might be the case. And I think I will stay for dinner, if that’s ok.”

“It’s more than ok,” dad smiled, “I’ll start preparing it shortly.”

With that, dad began to exit the room, but he was quickly interrupted by Claire. “Um, actually, before you go, I have a question.”

Dad turned around, innocently intrigued by what Claire had to say. I too was wondering, though it didn’t take me long to work it out. She wouldn’t. I told her not to. I wanted to stop her, but she went ahead and asked her question before the words could reach my mouth. “What’s your bra size?”

Dad blinked in stunned confusion at the precipitous question. My face instantly became hot, as all my blood rushed to it. I covered my face from the sheer mortification, but it didn’t help one bit. My heart pounded in my chest as I was overwhelmed with anxiety. I expressly forbade her from asking my dad that question, and yet she ignored my wish completely. What was wrong with her?

“Um, excuse me?” dad said, understandably confused. “Why do you want to know that?”

“Well, it’s your birthday coming up,” Claire explained, “and Ben had an excellent idea for a birthday present for you. But we need to know your bra size, and Ben felt too embarrassed to ask you themself.”

Still keeping my hands on my face in embarrassment, I split my fingers apart to create a slit through which I could see. I saw dad nervously scratch the back of his head. “Oh, um, well, that’s very kind of you, Ben. But I still don’t understand what you’d get me that would require that information. I don’t exactly need any new bras.”

Claire tapped a finger on her nose a couple of times, smiling cheekily. “It’s a secret. But you’ll like it! Trust me.” Her lips shifted into a much more genuine smile.

“Oh, um, well, it’s uhh, if I remember correctly, I’m a 12C.”

“Thanks!” Claire said cheerfully, “That’s all we need.” She gave my father a bright smile, which didn’t seem to help with either the nerves or embarrassment she had caused. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure she even noticed that he was uncomfortable at this present moment.

“Ok. I’ll um, get started on dinner soon.” He pointed out of the room as he spoke, before quickly exiting.

Now that he was finally gone, I removed my hands from my face, and I felt my face return to its normal colour. I glared at her, though she failed to notice my grim mood. I couldn’t believe she’d just done that! Sure, she got the information she wanted, but she had gone against my express wishes to do so, and absolutely mortified both my dad and me in the process. Did she have no shame?

“I told you not to ask him that!” I exclaimed once my voice had returned to me.

She just shrugged. “Well, it worked out fine in the end. I don’t know what you were worried about.”

“I don’t know, maybe the sheer embarrassment you gave both my dad and me!?”

“It’s fine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “A little embarrassment never hurt anyone. Besides, I said it was your idea, so you’ll get all the credit too.”

I groaned, cupping my head in my hands for the second time today. I didn’t have a response for her. I didn’t agree, but I doubted that she would listen to me. Her idea for a present better be worth all this trouble.