Be a girl

As expected, dad was surprised to see James’ new haircut. Not that he disliked it – he was of course stoked to see it – but it was wholly unexpected. He never would have thought his wife would allow such a short hair style for their youngest child. Dad made sure to let James know just how happy he was for him, and James’ joy had finally returned once again. Here, at dad’s house, he could be the boy he knew himself to be, and his new haircut helped immensely in that regard.

James returned to his dull mood once he had to put his school dress on the next day, but those few hours of happiness were still worth it. He deserved it oh so much. Did it hurt to see sadness written on his face once again? Yes. Of course. But I had a strong feeling his smile would return once the school day was over, and he could be a boy once again. Still, I wished mum would stop her brutal treatment of him.

Claire was curious how my Sunday went once I arrived at school, and I explained what I could about aunty Miranda and James’ day out. I left out all the not-so-great bits about mum and Miranda continuing to insist that James was a girl, despite his protests. My friend smiled, happy that my brother finally had something good going his way. I appreciated her support for my little brother, and promised that I would relay her kind words to him.

The rest of the week went by with nothing much interesting happening. Oscar was still refusing to speak to Claire, but by this point we were all over it. He was a lost cause. If he wanted to wallow in his own pity, lamenting the loss of a friend whom he had pushed away, then that was his prerogative. We’d all given up trying to convince him of the error of his ways.

By the end of the week, Claire had the idea that we should all have a sleepover together. Given such notice, there was no way we could organise such an event for this weekend, so we all agreed to have it on the Friday of next week. I was hesitant to agree to such a plan, but Claire insisted that I come along, claiming that it wouldn’t be the same without me there. The other two had no qualms with me joining either.

Despite it being her idea, Claire did not want to host the sleepover at her place, claiming that her older sister would barge in and ruin it all by teasing her. Which sounded exactly like something Emily would do, being honest. I couldn’t host it either as I hadn’t told Rachel about the situation with my dad (and had no plans to tell her), and mum’s place was far too small for all of us. I, of course, didn’t explain my reasoning, but I knew Claire and Izzy understood implicitly.

It was Izzy who offered to host the sleepover, explaining that she wouldn’t have any annoying siblings to bother us since she was an only child. As no one objected to her offer, it was decided. Although nervous, I had to admit that I was looking forward to it, at least after the reassurances that the girls wanted me there.

***

I found it difficult to concentrate during the entirety of the next school week. The only thing on my mind was the sleepover. It would be my very first sleepover, and that was an exciting prospect. When Claire noticed how distracted I was, I told her the sleepover was all I could think about. She giggled and said it was the only thing on her mind, too. I could tell, since she radiated pure joy whenever the topic came up in conversation. One could even say it was very Claire that she was excited.

Knowing that dad wouldn’t be home until late, Claire and I walked to my house first on the afternoon of the sleepover so that I could change and grab the supplies. We then both headed to Claire’s house. Claire’s mum offered to take us to Izzy’s house, for which I was very grateful. Isabel lived over four kilometres from Claire and me, making it infeasible for us to walk.

I made sure to wear my gloves to Izzy’s house. There was still a risk that I’d accidentally transform Izzy’s dad, though it was very slight as I expected that he wouldn’t want to bother the four of us. But the big reason was that I hadn’t told Rachel the reason why I wore gloves, and I wasn’t going to. Suddenly not wearing them would definitely arouse suspicion from her.

Isabel’s house was very plain, with no standout features. The front garden was well maintained; the front lawn had been recently mowed, and the bushes around the edges neatly trimmed. A short path paved with red bricks led us from the driveway to the front door of the house.

Isabel greeted the two of us at the door with a welcome smile, before ushering us into her bedroom. She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail, with her bright orange curls bouncing joyously as she invited us inside. Her dress was a soft white with roses patterned all over, flowing down into several layers at the bottom which all swished gracefully as she walked. I silently wished I could wear anything even half as cute as her dress. But boys weren’t supposed to wear cute things – it was unmanly – so I did my best to brush aside that envious thought.

I had zero expectations as to what Isabel’s bedroom might look like, so I went in there waiting to be surprised. There was the usual: a bed off in the corner, as well as a wardrobe and chest o’ drawers, and a desk. The standout feature of the room was a large display case filled to the brim with a variety of rocks and gemstones that spanned the entire breadth of the desk, resting against the wall. Each specimen within was clearly labelled, and ranged from basic rocks (limestone) and minerals I’d never even heard of (gneiss?), to much more expensive gemstones (sapphire!?). Much like the desk, the rest of the room was spectacularly tidy, with enough space for one to lie on the floor, limbs splayed out, without touching anything. Or well, most could; Claire might be a bit tall for that.

All around the room hung posters of children’s cartoons, most of which I didn’t recognise. One that caught my eye in particular was of a large blonde woman holding a sword high into the air. Izzy caught me staring at it and giggled, recommending that I watch it since she believed it was really good. I didn’t watch tv shows too often, but I made a mental note to check it out. I’d just have to make sure that James didn’t catch me watching a girly show.

Rachel was sprawled out across Isabel’s bed, taking up as much room as she could manage. She looked up from her phone when the three of us entered the room and gave us all a welcome greeting. Unlike Izzy, whose outfit was elegant but not overly so, Rachel’s outfit was what I could best describe as lazy but comfortable – denim overalls that left the shoulders exposed, and a tshirt underneath. It wasn’t really what I would consider good looking, but she still pulled it off quite well.

Standing here with the three girls, feelings that I didn’t belong crashed into me like a wave against a rocky cliff. I felt like I was intruding on this sleepover as the only boy out of the four of us, despite the reassurances from the girls that it was fine. I wanted to believe them, that I wasn’t an imposter intruding on their sleepover, but it was difficult to brush those feelings aside. The best I could do was try to pretend like nothing was wrong, so that the girls didn’t suspect anything. I didn’t want to ruin this night for them, and I wanted to believe that I could have fun despite my feelings.

Now that everyone was here, it was time to decide what we’d do first. I hadn’t any ideas, so I offered nothing, and let the girls choose between themselves what they wanted to do. I wasn’t going to argue either; I’d be fine with whatever activity they decided on. I wasn’t alone in not knowing what to do: Claire also had no ideas. How ironic since she was the one who suggested we have this sleepover in the first place.

Izzy actually suggested that we watch a bit of the show whose poster had caught my eye. With no disagreements from Claire and me, and an enthusiastic affirmation from Rachel, we set off to the lounge room. An easy decision. We all made ourselves comfortable while Izzy set up the tv to get the show running.

Rachel tried to make Claire take the beanbag on the floor, specifically so that she didn’t hog the entire lounge. In protest, Claire sprawled herself across the entirety of the lounge, with both her hands and feet hanging off the ends because she was simply too tall to fit. Rachel jumped onto the lounge with a playful grin, standing in the tiny amount of free space between Claire and the back cushions. She then kicked Claire until she rolled clean onto the rug. The tall girl cried out in protest, before picking herself up.

Claire shot Rachel a sly grin, then grabbed her around the waist and lifted her over her shoulder. Rachel let out a yelp of surprise as Claire carried her over to the beanbag, and gently plopped her onto it. Rachel tried to pull herself out of the beanbag to swipe at Claire playfully, but she couldn’t escape – sucked in too deep by the vortex that was a bag filled with plastic beans. Claire stuck her tongue out at the other girl and satisfactorily flopped onto the lounge.

I sat down on the lounge next to my tall friend, who thankfully kept to her half of the lounge by curling her legs underneath herself. Once Izzy was done getting the show all set up, she looked between the beanbag and the lounge, contemplating on where to sit, before ultimately deciding to squeeze in next to Rachel. The two looked very cozy next to each other, as there wasn’t too much space for the both of them. They didn’t seem to mind, however.

We watched several episodes of the show, and Izzy was right. I was thoroughly enjoying it. The main character reminded me of a certain friend of mine: tall, pretty, always wanting to help people despite being kind of bad at it. I knew that once I got home, I’d definitely be finishing it off. As it stood, we were only able to watch the first few episodes before Isabel’s mother called us all for dinner.

Dinner was a relaxed affair. Claire and Rachel chatted animatedly about the show, and Izzy occasionally chimed in with her own thoughts. I remained silent throughout the entire meal, not wanting to speak. A pit slowly formed in my stomach, making me want to fade into the background. 

I ate slowly, picking at my food, hoping no one noticed my downtrodden demeanor. A stark contrast to Claire and Rachel who asked for seconds before I’d finished my first. And despite their voracious appetites, there was plenty enough for everyone. Once we had all finished our meals, we thanked Isabel’s mother for the food, and helped her carry the dishes to the kitchen.

With dinner over, we made our way back to Izzy’s room. Claire sat on Izzy’s desk chair, and the other two girls sat on the bed, leaving me standing awkwardly on my own, unsure of what to do. The feeling that I was intruding on their fun night came back in full force, and I no longer had the tv show to distract me. My hands suddenly felt clammy, and I needed to rub them on my legs to help calm myself.

My fidgeting instantly caught Izzy’s attention, and a frown appeared on her face. It took a moment for the other two to notice, enraptured in their own conversation. They both quieted down, leaving the room in an uncomfortable silence. With all eyes on me, I suddenly became much more nervous.

“Are you ok, Ben?” Izzy asked, sounding rather concerned for my wellbeing.

I looked away. “I’m fine,” I replied hastily. I had no conviction. It was such an obvious lie that I knew none of them would buy it.

I heard soft movement to my side as one of them stood up. I kept my eyes staring firmly at the blank wall beside me, until I felt a hand on my upper arm. I turned to see Izzy staring at me with a worried expression. She rubbed her thumb gently into my arm to help soothe me as she spoke, “What’s the matter? You look upset.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

She pursed her lips, still very obviously not convinced. She wasn’t going to let me get out of this so easily. “Ben, we’re all your friends here. No one is going to judge you, whatever it is, right?” She turned to the other two girls who both nodded vigorously before looking back at me. “So please, tell us what’s the matter and we can try to help.”

I stared at her, unwavering, contemplating whether I should tell her. While I didn’t want to ruin this night for the girls, I was already doing a splendid job of that just by being nervous. So, it was probably best to tell them; it would hardly make the night worse given they were already worried for me. Izzy was right after all: time after time, all the girls had proven to be completely non-judgemental. But I knew that no matter if I told them, the feelings of being an imposter wouldn’t disappear.

Izzy’s expression only became more and more worried the longer I spent without providing her an answer. Same for the other two.

I sighed. They deserved to know. I simply could not deny them that. They were my friends. “I just feel like I don’t belong here. That I’m intruding.” I rubbed at my pants again, the repetitive motion helping to soothe my overworked emotions.

“Of course you’re not intruding!” Izzy said reassuringly, “We invited you, and that means we want you here.”

She wasn’t understanding. That wasn’t the issue. Not really. “That’s not what I mean…”

She tilted her head, puzzled. I couldn’t blame her; I hadn’t exactly explained myself very well, or at all really. “What do you mean then?”

“It’s just, you’re all girls, and I’m… not. I feel like the odd one out as the only boy here, that I’m ruining your girls’ night.”

“You can be an honorary girl,” Claire interjected, “You know… if you want…” That last part she said rather sheepishly, as though she weren’t quite sure of herself. I personally didn’t know what she could mean. Honorary girl? But I was a boy. There was no changing that, no matter how much I wished I could.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I needed the clarification. What was Claire suggesting?

She rubbed at her upper arm. She spoke with a nervous lilt, “You know, we could all treat you like you’re a girl for the night. That way you wouldn’t be intruding on our girls’ night as you say, because you’d be one of the girls too.” She gave me a warm smile as she finished speaking.

I was sure that my face went bright red due to Claire’s suggestion, based on how hot it suddenly became. A sudden wave of feelings – none of which I really understood – began to wash over me. On the one hand, I was drawn to her offer, for reasons I couldn’t explain. To be treated like a girl… it was a dream come true. But it was wrong. I knew that. I was a boy. I shouldn’t want that. But I did. But it was wrong. But I wanted it. But I shouldn’t.

“Is that a good idea?” Rachel asked worriedly. “He looks pretty flustered.”

“Well, it’s up to Ben, isn’t it?” Claire replied.

Rachel was right, of course, I was very flustered. My breathing had quickened by this point, and my mouth had become very dry. My hands continued their up and down motion on my thighs automatically. I knew that it was wrong to do this, but I wanted it so badly. But were the girls ok with this? My brain told me that they wouldn’t be, even if Claire had suggested it. But would it hurt to ask?

“Is that ok?” I asked barely audibly. I stared down at the floor. I could barely believe I even managed to say it. I closed my eyes as I waited for them to reject me. To tell me that I was a freak for wanting something so wrong.

Except, that didn’t happen.

“I’m fine with it,” Claire said.

“If you’re ok with it, then I’m ok with it,” Isabel reassured me.

“Don’t matter to me,” Rachel replied.

Why were they ok with this? It didn’t seem right. But I wasn’t going to argue with them.

“Can I then?” I asked sheepishly.

“Can you what?” Claire replied.

Argh! Why would she ask that? Now I had to say it! And I wasn’t sure if I could. I wet my lips in preparation to speak, then opened my mouth.

All that came out was a shaky breath.

My voice had gone walkabout, and it didn’t look like I could force it to come back home. No amount of rubbing my thighs was going to get it to return. It always chose the perfect opportunities to abandon me, didn’t it?

Thankfully, Claire saved me. “Do you want us to treat you like a girl?” she asked softly.

I nodded slowly. I wanted this so badly. And now that I had permission, I wasn’t going to turn down the offer, no matter how wrong it was. The girls had quieted the part of my brain that was screaming at me not to do this. It was trying to protect me, I knew that. But I didn’t need it to. Not with the girls here, reassuring me that it was ok. It was too late to back out now. We were doing this.

Without a word, Claire stood up from the chair, and walked up to me. She stared down at me with a soft smile on her face. She slowly pulled me into a tight embrace which I wasn’t fully expecting. I didn’t object, though I didn’t hug her back.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered before releasing me. I didn’t reply to her. I didn’t know how to react to that. I didn’t understand why she’d be proud of me.

I just smiled back at her.