I looked briefly out the windows of the theater that open to the main hallway of the Sanderson Mall. A mall rent-a-cop, still wearing his regular patrolman uniform, looked in to see these thugs starting to gather around me. I must have had a worried look on my face as he appeared to study the scene a moment, then started to head for the theater entrance.
Spike saw the mall security guy start to head our way, so he said to his little gang, “Come on, I think the movie is about to start.” They started walking away, when Spike turned back to me and said, “Hey, sweetie. If you decide to stop pretending to be a guy and want to see what it’s like to do the nasty with a real stud, just let me know.” He grinned a toothy grin and followed his buddies into the darkened theater hallway.
The mall cop arrived a few moments later and walked up to me, “Are you okay, Miss? Were they bothering you?”
I frowned at the mall cop and exasperated, I said, “I’m not a Miss. I’m a guy.” The mall cop looked at me funny so I said, “Honest. I’m really not a girl. And yes, those jerks were bothering me!” I looked in the direction they had gone and saw Spike just entering an auditorium. Thank God it wasn’t the movie Mandy and I was going to go see.
“Well, Mis... uh... sir, if I were you, I might reconsider going to a movie,” suggested the mall cop.
Again I frowned at him, “Then they win! I’d be letting some creeps dictate my life,” I exclaimed. Then, more softly, “We’ll be okay. I really do appreciate your assistance.”
The mall cop nodded and said, “Hmmm. Yeah, they probably won’t bother you again in the theater, but walking to your car, be sure to carry your car keys. Just rake the keys across their eyes if they get that close.” He idly tapped the butt of the 10mm Glock at his hip.
About then, Mandy finally emerged from the sanctity of the restroom. She sees the cop and sees me sweating and asks, “What’s going on?” As the cop wanders back out into the mall, I quickly fill Mandy in on the events. “Geesh, girl. I can’t leave you alone for a second!”
“For the last time, I’m not a girl!” I scolded.
* * *
The incident earlier all but forgotten, Mandy and I were enjoying a light, romantic comedy — the kind of movie I’d never used to go see. For the hell of it, about half way through the movie, I yawned and stretched and brought my arm down around Mandy’s shoulders. To my surprise, she didn’t laugh or even try to pull away. Instead, she actually put her head on my shoulder and snuggled in. The movie was perfect to bring a date to. It was the kind almost guaranteed to make your date all warm and gooey inside. I was having trouble resisting its effect myself.
When the guy and the girl in the movie finally kissed each other after being forced to somehow miss each other through most of the film, I heard Mandy sigh and I looked down at her and I could tell the movie had worked its magic. She looked up at me and there was no mistaking the message in her eyes. I bent down, hesitated because I really didn’t intend to get romantic at all with Mandy and softly kissed her.
The kiss lasted for more than a few moments and I have to say, that it caused the biggest kick I’ve ever gotten from kissing a girl. She was the first cheerleader I’d ever kissed, and for some reason, there’s just something magical about cheerleaders. Add that I was also kissing the second prettiest girl at school (Jeff gets to kiss the prettiest... some day this is going to cause me to have ‘issues’.) And while the kiss was exciting and I most certainly wanted the kiss to last longer, there was just something odd about it.
Suddenly, like the flip of a switch, Mandy stopped kissing. Our lips were still touching, but the kiss just went cold. She looked uncomfortable as she slowly pulled away from me and disengaged my arm. She sat up straight and looked only at the movie screen. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what could I have possibly done wrong.
As the credits started to roll, I turned to her and started to say, “Mandy, I...”
Mandy held up her hand and whispered, “Chris, it’s not you.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. She continued, “Well, maybe it is you.” She looked at me as if she’d just experienced a sudden epiphany. “Chris, you know, you’re really a very nice boy. Honest to God, I wish now I hadn’t been like, such a snob and noticed you before you became a cheerleader, but I’m sorry Chris, I... I well, I felt like I was kissing my sister, even though I don’t have one. Chris, I... I’m sorry. I can only think of you as a girl, no matter how you’re dressed.”
* * *
We walked slowly back to the lobby. Mandy held my hand, but she just watched her feet as we walked.
Letting go of my hand, Mandy smiled and said, “Sorry, but I gotta go pee.”
“Yeah me too,” I started to follow her into the women’s restroom when I caught myself. I changed direction and started heading for the men’s room.
Behind me, I heard a familiar and unwanted voice say, “Heh... look guys, that girl trying to be a guy almost went into the women’s bathroom.” Just before the restroom door closed, I heard laughing and then, “Come on guys, this I gotta see.” It was those same jerks who bothered me earlier. I hurried inside.
I hadn’t been in a men’s room in months. I looked at the empty row of urinals lining one wall. Do I even remember how to go while standing up? I guess that’s not something you’re likely to forget. I walked hastily to a urinal in the middle of the row and unzipped my pants.
The restroom door burst open, and the creeps piled into the room. I turned slightly, Mr. Happy firmly in my hand and doing my business and I called out to Spike, “Hey guy! Why don’t you give me your phone number so I can call you later and set up a date!” I smiled as sweetly as I could.
Spike went scarlet; from rage or embarrassment, I don’t know. All his buddies stood there for a moment, slack-jawed staring at me answering nature’s call. Then, they all turned to Spike and started laughing their asses off.
“Yeah, Spike, when are you two going on your date?” laughed one of the little creeps. “She’s definitely your type!”
Another one cried, “Looks like Spike gets to go to the prom after all!”
“Can we come to the wedding?” All the little toadies seemed to be taking quite a bit of delight at their leader’s mistake.
I have to admit, I was scared out of my mind as I finished my business and turned to leave. The band of boneheads still stood between me and the door. Smiling and trying to show confidence I didn’t feel, I started walking towards them.
Spike was pretty pissed at being humiliated in front of his little gang, even though it was entirely his own fault. Still, he raised his fist and screamed, “You fuckin’ little shit! You’re dead!” He started to push his way past his minions.
I looked at Spike’s motley crew who were still laughing, and said as I walked past them turning to keep facing them with my back towards the door, “Hey bud, how many times did I tell you I was a guy?”
Spike was rapidly losing face in front of his punks and he grew more angry. He replied, “Come here, asshole! I’m gonna break your face!” He started to reach through his toadies, trying to grab me.
But one of Spike’s little gang, a punk not as tall as Spike, but more wiry spoke up with, “That’s right, Spike. He told you he was a guy, and you kept hitting on him. You aren’t a fag, are you Spikey?” A couple of other guys chimed in with cat calls and insults of their own. The other two guys started defending Spike.
Spike was wounded in the eyes of the gang, and his leadership was suddenly up for grabs. They had forgotten about me, and I quickly took advantage of their distraction to exit the men’s room. After the door closed, I heard the dull thwack of fist against flesh and a sudden bump against the wall. Mandy was standing in the empty lobby waiting for me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I said hurriedly, “There’s a fight breaking out in the men’s room. Let’s get the hell out of here before it turns into a hockey game.”
Looking puzzled, Mandy asked, “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we tell someone?”
I took her hand and pulled her quickly through the exit doors and said, “No! Then we’d get stuck answering a bunch of questions and stuff. Besides, I don’t want to spoil Spike’s fun.”
Mandy furrowed her brow and asked, “Who’s Spike?”
* * *
Other than some small talk about the movie we saw, Mandy was mostly quiet on the way back to town, mostly just staring out the car window into the blackness beyond. I pulled the Neon up the curb in front of my house. We both got out of the car, since Mandy would be moving to the driver’s seat. We faced each other on the sidewalk.
“I had a good time, tonight,” I said, discounting my encounter with Spike. “Maybe we can do this again, sometime.” I edged a little closer into Mandy’s personal space.
Taking a half step backward, Mandy said, “Yeah... I had like, a good time hanging out with you.”
I didn’t voice it, but I thought, is that all it was to you? Just hanging out? I said, “Well, I need to get up real early tomorrow, so I guess I need to let you get home.” I moved a little closer and started leaning in.
Suddenly, Mandy took my hand in the lame grip that you usually get from girls and she shook it saying, “Thanks for the night out! Have a safe trip, okay?”
Seeing the disappointment in my eyes, Mandy clasped her other hand over my hand that she was holding and said, “I’m sorry. I really did enjoy being with you tonight, but Chrissy, you’re forever going to be a girl to me.” She gave me a hug, and then quickly got into her car.
I stood there for several minutes alone on the sidewalk in the cold night.
* * *
I knocked the alarm clock off the night stand, and it continued to grind out its irritating noise on the floor and under the bed and well out of reach. Groaning, I tried to lean over the edge of the bed to grab the clock, but only managed to fall head first to the floor of my old room. I fumbled around with my hand, searching for that blasted alarm clock under the bed. Finally, I found it and killed the alarm. I continued to lay on the floor in a crumpled heap for a minute or two.
“Chris!” Dad called through the door, “Time to drag that carcass of yours out of bed. We have an eight hour drive ahead of us.” Wasn’t that just peachy?
This was one morning that I was definitely glad to be in guy mode. It was oh-dark-thirty and I was more than happy to be able to dispense with putting on my make-up and fixing my hair.
Mom had already laid out my clothes to wear. I looked at the underwear she’d laid out and decided that I wasn’t making that mistake again. I darted quickly into Diane’s old room, rummaged through the drawers and pulled out a few panties. I packed a couple and slipped on the other one. We were only going to be gone one night.
As I slid into the kitchen, Mom looked up and said, “If you want something to eat, you’d better hurry.”
I sat down and as I poured some cornflakes into a bowl, Dad looked over at me and said, “Morning, son. I’m surprised you got in so early last night.”
I looked up from my breakfast and said, “Early? I was afraid I was going to be in trouble since it was almost midnight when I got home.”
Dad just chuckled as he said, “No. I really didn’t expect you back until one or two in the morning.”
“Cool! That’s great. I’ll have to tell Jeff when we get back,” I said.
Dad interrupted saying, “No, now wait a minute. Daughters still have to be in by eleven PM on weekends. That doesn’t change.”
I just sat there and stared at Dad before finally saying, “You mean as Chris, I can stay out as late as I want...”
“Within reason,” interjected Dad.
“...But as Chrissy, I have to be back by ten or eleven, depending on the day?” Dad nodded and I blurted out, “But that’s not fair!”
Dad just shrugged and said, “Nobody said life was fair. You want to be a daughter; you have to abide by the daughter’s rules.” Finished with his breakfast he started to stand.
I said, “But Dad, how can you do that?”
Again he shrugged and said, “That’s just what dads do. You have to be more careful with daughters.”
I squealed a grunt of frustration and finished my breakfast, fuming.
* * *
I slept most of the morning while in the car. I woke up when Dad pulled off into a rest stop. We all climbed out of the car to stretch our legs and to relieve ourselves.
As I was approaching the men’s room, a little old lady popped out of the women’s and saw me. She waved to get my attention and called, “Honey! You’re going in the wrong door! It’s right here.”
Mom was right behind me and started to laugh. The little old lady misunderstood why Mom found it humorous and said to her, “I sometimes find myself going in the wrong door myself! You have a very lovely daughter.”
“Thank you!” said Mom, not even trying to correct the old lady. “I have another daughter, too. In fact, we’re on our way to see her graduate from college.” They continued to make small talk while I was going cross eyed trying not to pee in my pants. I flatly refused to use the women’s room, and I couldn’t use the men’s while the old lady was there.
The old lady finally shuffled on her way, and I made a mad dash into the restroom. As soon as I entered the restroom, the foul smelling air assaulted my nostrils, providing a less than gentle reminder as to why I was so glad I didn’t have to sit down to pee.
The rest of the trip was pretty much the same. A couple of hours of driving, followed by a break where I would be either hit on by college guys or told by old ladies how much I looked like my mother. We stopped for lunch at Burger King, and I still just couldn’t get any respect.
As we sat down with our Whoppers, exasperated I said to Mom, “I just don’t get it! I’m not wearing make-up, I’m not wearing my boobs, I’m wearing guy clothes, no jewelry and I’m still being taken for a girl!”
“Well honey,” said Mom after taking a bite, “you take such good care of your skin and hair and most guys don’t pluck their eyebrows. You have a small frame; you don’t move like a guy anymore.”
“And you’re pretty, just like your mother,” interrupted Dad with noticeable disgust in his voice.
I set the remainder of my burger down and said, “Okay, fine! Mom, can I borrow your make-up? There’s no point in me trying to look like a boy!” Some other Burger King patrons were starting to look over at us.
Dad, looking like he’d rather be burrowing into a hole somewhere said, “Chris! Pipe down. You’re fine. Let’s just get to Diane’s graduation without causing a riot, okay?”
In a booth to the side of me, a thirteen or fourteen year old girl with a pimple problem and a nose on the large size leaned over their table to whisper to her mother. Through the noise in the restaurant I could just barely hear, “Mom, why would any girl that pretty want to look like a boy? I’d give anything to be that pretty.”
Her mother replied, “Beats me dear. Some people just don’t appreciate what they have. And honey, you are pretty. Finish your lunch.”
* * *
We made it to the university campus with thirty minutes to spare. As we walked across the campus to the building where the ceremony was being held, I noticed quite a variety of hair length on guys, so I hoped I wouldn’t stand out here like I had elsewhere that morning. It also helped that it was getting a little chilly with a threat of rain, so there were fewer people out and about.
Near the auditorium, however, there was quite a crowd forming. We filed inside and tried to find seats that were high enough to easily see the floor. There were rows and rows of empty chairs on the floor.
As we made our way up to the seats we had spotted, a guy who was already seated looked up at me with a puzzled expression. “Hey, Diane! I thought you were graduating today?”
I just stared at him for a few moments before finally saying, “Diane is my sister, and she is graduating today.”
“Cool.”
As we continued on, I heard the guy turn to person
next to him and say, “Did you know Diane has a sister?”
Ten minutes after the time that it was supposed to start, the graduates started filing in to a stirring rendition of Pomp & Circumstance. Mom let out a squeak, nudged Dad, and pointed when she finally spotted Diane. Dad handed me his camera so I could see Diane with it. The camera had a long telephoto lens and I sucked in my breath when I finally got it pointed at my sister. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of years since she had a regular job as well as being a student and couldn’t always get away for any length of time.
Anyway, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Except for the lighter hair, looking at Diane, felt like I was looking at me. She spotted us and waved, then the ceremonies began and she turned her attention to the podium.
We sat mostly in silence, watching the parade of graduates march across the stage and receive their degrees. Dad started videotaping when Diane’s row stood up and began their procession. As Diane walked across the stage, oddly my first thought was, where did she get her shoes?
The Reluctant Sister (Reluctant Series Book 3) Page 7