More Than One Way to Be a Girl

by Dyan Sheldon

  “It’s not an obsession, Loretta. It’s a lifestyle choice. I can unchoose it as easily as changing my earrings.” She smiled. “The only trouble is that your idea won’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Think about it, Lo. We couldn’t possibly pull it off. Not in Howards Walk. Everyone knows us. They’d catch on that it wasn’t for real. They’d think we were just messing around.”

  That’s the problem with flashes of inspiration: you don’t always think them through. I hated to admit it, but ZiZi was right. I couldn’t just appear at school one day in a miniskirt and a blonde wig; no one would take it seriously. There was a good chance they’d laugh until they couldn’t breathe. And if ZiZi showed up looking gender-neutral … as soon as the Earth started turning again, they’d be searching her locker for drugs. Realistically, the only way it would work would be if our families agreed to move to a place where no one knew us – Montana, for example, or the Outer Hebrides. Unless, of course, Montana and the Outer Hebrides moved to us.

  “Wait a minute. We’re not thinking laterally. We can make it work. It’s almost Summer. We could get away with it easily in the Summer. No school to go to, we’ll both be working and the town will be filled with strangers who never saw us before.” Come June, the Summer people start to arrive. None of them know ZiZi and me, and even if they had seen us before they wouldn’t remember. Which meant we’d have maximum time to conduct the experiment and minimum hassle and lifestyle impact. “That’s pretty much perfect.”

  “Summer?” It’s rare that you actually hear someone gasp. “Now I know for sure you’ve totally lost your mind. We can’t possibly do it in the Summer. I’d rather wear bellbottoms. And I wouldn’t wear bellbottoms in my grave.”

  “But why not? You broke up with Duane again months ago, so you don’t have to worry about what he thinks.” Which was probably the first time I used the words “Duane” and “think” in the same sentence.

  “I do have other friends, you know.”

  “Yeah, but if you told them about the bet they’d probably go along with it, wouldn’t they? I don’t see the problem.”

  “You wouldn’t, Loretta. You don’t wait all year for bikini weather like I do. But, for normal people, Summer is fun-in-the-sun time. Beach days. Barbecues. Pool parties. And there is no way I’m wearing a one-piece like my mother. I mean, seriously? I might as well just skip the precious years of my youth and go straight to middle age. Maybe I should start saving for a mobility scooter.”

  “It wouldn’t have to be the whole Summer. You’ll probably cave in on day one.”

  “You mean, you will. And no. You’re incredibly stubborn. I’m not taking the chance that you’d hang on just to spite me.”

  “What if we say no more than one month? Surely you can put your busy fun-in-the-sun social life on hold for just one month.”

  “No.”

  “July? Just for July. August is always the best month for the beach, anyway.”

  “How would you know? You only go to the beach in the winter when it’s empty.” Her mouth was a blockade. “And absolutely no.”

  “You know you’d lose, that’s why you won’t do it.”

  “No, I would win. But it’s impossible. Not this Summer. I have plans.”

  “A barbecue is not a plan, ZiZi.”

  “Besides that stuff. I have something to do for school.”

  “In the Summer? You’re going to miss beach days to do something for school?” This was an event far less frequent than the passing of Halley’s Comet.

  “It’s for Media.” She was staring at some point behind my head. “One of the guys is making a movie and I said I’d help out.”

  Since I know ZiZi so well – she is not a girl to do schoolwork when she doesn’t have to – I was immediately suspicious. “One of the guys?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, her eyes not quite connecting with mine. “One of the guys in my class.”

  She was being evasive, but I decided not to push her. “Well, I don’t see how that makes any difference. What does it matter what you wear if you’re not in front of the camera?”

  “No, Loretta. I’m not changing my image in midstream.”

  File under the heading: Something is going on.

  ZiZi

  A girl has a right to change her mind

  Here’s the thing. Even though Summer is the only time Howards Walk is more exciting than a weather report for the desert, I kind of wanted to do the bet. It would be worth missing a couple of pool parties and barbecues just to see Loretta looking like a girl.

  Plus, I was sure I’d win. And, because I’d win, I figured it would shut her up once and for all about gender this and gender that and the beauty myth and the tyranny of fashion and the objectification of women and all the other things she yammers on about till you want to put cement in your ears. And I know Loretta. She thought it was going to be easy as opening a compact to beat me because she thinks I have no self-discipline. In the Loretta Reynolds universe, it was only people who study all the time and can name every woman who ever won a Nobel Prize or burned a bra who knew what self-discipline is. Like looking good doesn’t take enormous amounts of self-discipline. Your hair just styles itself. Your make-up just appears on your face by magic. Your body doesn’t need you to exercise or pass up the chocolate cake and French fries to look great. Did she have any idea how long it takes just to do your nails? To put on eyelashes? To wax your legs? And what about shopping? You don’t just walk into any old store you come to and grab the first thing you see. Shopping requires knowledge, self-control, stamina and skill. (If there was any justice in the world, they’d make it an Olympic event. It’s a lot more demanding than beach volleyball.) Compared to all that, what’s wearing a T-shirt, jeans and trainers? Nothing! I mean, seriously? If my brothers can do it, anyone can.

  But seeing Loretta in make-up and a skirt (even a really short, pink skirt with ruffles) wasn’t worth missing even ten minutes of working with Dillon Blackstock on his documentary, and there was no way I was working with Dillon Blackstock while I was dressing like my brothers.

  And then my guardian angel went on one of her unscheduled vacations and Fate marched in, trampling all over my expectations and changing everything.

  The first thing that happened was that I found out no one was going to be around that Summer. No one I ever hung out with, at least. All my normal friends were leaving town for one thing or another. Quel social wasteland! So that meant no beach days, no pool parties, no barbecues, and less fun than sunburn. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, but it was a blow. And then the worst thing happened.

  Some people think I pay too much attention to unimportant trivia (like looks), but the sad truth is that, if you ask me, human beings are way less reliable than a good foundation.

  We got closer and closer to saying our goodbyes to Howards Walk High for the Summer, and still Dillon hadn’t said anything more about his movie. Everybody was pretty busy in the last few weeks of school with tests and papers and everything, so I never had a chance to ask him about it privately. In class, he sat with Tobias (and came in with Tobias and left with Tobias). Outside of class, the one time I saw Dillon by himself was when Mitchell Crause and I were putting up the paintings for the Art Department show. I was holding the ladder and Mitchell was asking, “Is it straight now?” so I couldn’t very well say anything to Dillon right then. Plus, I didn’t want Dillon to think I was pushy. After what he’d said about his future sister-in-law (the princess), I figured he wasn’t the kind of guy who responds well to pushy (even if he is pretty friendly with Loretta!).

  Cal Kupfer and I were on the school’s Community Committee, and once a month we delivered the food-bank donations to the Methodist church in the next town. Cal’s one of those guys who can’t do enough for you, so on that afternoon, when we stopped at Johnson’s for petrol on the way back, he jumped out to do the pumping without me having to ask. (I was happy to let him do it because I once ruined a pa
ir of fabric shoes dripping petrol on them and I was wearing new sandals.) Since my parents won’t trust me with my own credit card, I had to go inside to pay. And who do you think was ahead of me at the counter? Dillon Blackstock! Even better, there was nobody with him.

  I said, “Hey Dillon!”

  He turned around. “Oh, hi.” He sounded like a service station was the last place he ever expected to see me. “How’s it going?”

  I said it was going fine. And then we kind of stood there for a few seconds smiling at each other. I don’t really use the sledge-hammer approach favoured by Loretta, but my summer happiness was on the line. So I just came out and asked him what was going on.

  I said, “I was wondering when you want to get together to talk about the documentary.”

  His smile is really great, even when it looks confused. “What?”

  I said, “You know, the movie you’re making of your brother’s wedding? The hilarious, behind-the-scenes social commentary and living allegory? I’m ready when you are.”

  And Dillon said, “Oh God, the documentary. I’m afraid that idea’s been axed.”

  I had a little trouble taking in that information. You know, because it wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. “Axed? You mean you’re not going to do it? But I was planning on helping you with it. Remember?”

  “I know we talked about it,” said Dillon. “But it was only an idea.”

  Maybe to him, it was. To me, it was a promise.

  “It was a really great idea.”

  “Yeah. It seemed like it was.” His smile was still fantastic but rueful. “Only it kind of turned into a passing thought.”

  I was trying super hard not to let my soul-crushing disappointment show. “Right. A passing thought.”

  “I’m really sorry. I guess I should’ve told you, but everything’s been so crazy at home I totally forgot.”

  I nodded as if I was sympathetic with how crazy it must be at home for him to totally forget about me. “So,” I said, “why’d you decide not to do it?” I pitched my voice so he’d know I was unhappy about this but without sounding annoyed. “I really did think it was an awesome idea.”

  Dillon said it wasn’t that he cancelled the film. His brother’s fiancée cancelled the wedding.

  “Really? She called it off?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could she do a thing like that? Seriously. And not just because she’d torpedoed my Summer. Cancelling a wedding’s not like cancelling a dental appointment. A wedding is one of the most major things you can do unless you’re an astronaut or something like that. You might as well cancel your life.

  “You know what girls can be like,” said Dillon. “She had a big fight with my brother. It was all ten-thousand-mile-high drama, and, the next thing you knew, the whole thing’d been thrown in the garbage with the engagement ring.”

  “She threw away her ring?” This girl wasn’t a princess, she was psychotic. Who throws away her engagement ring? It’s like throwing away your fiancé’s heart.

  “It’s okay, he got it back.”

  I said maybe it wasn’t really that serious. Everybody knows how stressful weddings are. There’s so much to do, and you want everything to be totally perfect. People about to get married always get jittery and have second thoughts and want to back out, but then they realize it’s just nerves and worrying about fitting into the bridal gown or something like that and it’s all on again. It’s practically part of the ritual.

  Dillon said, “Not this time. She smashed his windscreen with a golf club.” Dillon laughed. “And then she tried to run him over. Even her dad stays out of her way when she’s in one of her moods, and her dad makes your average ruthless dictator look like a puppy. She’s a real emotional girl.”

  I was starting to feel like a real emotional girl myself. I said well, maybe we could come up with a different idea for a documentary that’d be just as good.

  “We’ve already solved that problem. We leave next week, the day after school ends.”

  “We” didn’t mean him and me (perish the thought!). It meant him and Tobias. (I should’ve known!)

  Tobias’s cousin was living in a tent in the woods in the back of beyond. The idea was that he wouldn’t spend any money for at least a year. He had to live really simply (that’s why he was in a tent), forage for food, barter and do stuff like that. So Dillon and Tobias were going to do a movie about him.

  “What he’s doing’s called freeconomics,” said Dillon. (It sounded more like freakonomics to me!) “It’s really wild. But he’s having a terrific time, and so far he hasn’t spent a dime.”

  “Well,” I said, “that really sounds awesome.”

  Dillon thought so, too. Mega social commentary. Scathing criticism of our consumer society. He and Tobias figured it had a lot of potential.

  I could only hope that potential was for having their camera eaten by a bear.

  As we came out of the store, I was trying to concentrate on not crying in front of him when I noticed that my mom’s car wasn’t where I’d left it.

  “Over here!” called Cal. He and the car were by the air machine. “I figured I might as well do the tyres, too, while I was waiting for you.”

  Dillon muttered something that sounded like, Come the hour, come the boy.

  I said, “What?”

  “Nothing. I have to get going.” He gave Cal a wave. “See you around, ZiZi.”

  Not unless I got lost in the wilderness.

  “Yeah,” I said, “see you around.”

  I couldn’t have been more crushed if a tractor had rolled over me. Dillon Blackstock was spending the whole vacation in some place without air conditioning being a responsible filmmaker with a political agenda. It’s the kind of thing that shakes your faith in humanity. Right then, standing in the forecourt of Johnson’s service station, I decided that I might as well go ahead with the bet with Loretta. I mean, why not? Realistically, what did I have to lose? Nothing. I wasn’t going to be doing anything over the Summer except working at the Inn. At least the bet would be something to do so I wasn’t bored out of my brain. And it would distract me from my bruised and aching heart. Plus, I had a lot to gain. Beating Loretta. Beating Loretta wouldn’t make up for missing out on months of propinquity with Dillon Blackstock, but it would make up for a lot of parties and games of beach volleyball that never happened.

  I took out my phone as I walked over to the car and texted Loretta: You’re on!

  Loretta

  Let the show begin

  By the time I got ZiZi’s text saying the bet was on after all, I’d more or less put the whole thing out of my mind in all the turmoil and activity of the end of year. I was so astonished at this turnaround – she’s known for her obstinacy as much as her dress sense – that I actually looked out of the window in case some other extraordinary phenomenon was occurring – fish raining from the sky or a faint blue moon appearing over the ocean.

  That same night I went over to keep her company because her parents were out and she had to stay with Obi to do damage control.

  “What made you change your mind?” I asked as we settled ourselves in the living room.

  ZiZi put the DVD in the machine. “You know what Ms Wallenstein was talking about the other day?”

  I scooped up a handful of chips. “You mean Harriet Tubman?”

  “No, not her. When she was talking about challenging yourself and getting out of your comfort zone?” I was surprised ZiZi even heard that. She usually turned off incoming when Ms Wallenstein started one of her life lectures. ZiZi plopped down beside me on the sofa. “So, anyway, I was thinking that maybe she has a point.”

  “You were?” The Abruzzios’ very ordinary living room with its family photographs on the mantelpiece and its souvenirs from family trips on the bookshelves suddenly seemed almost dreamlike and surreal, as if the normal rules that govern our world no longer applied and the boundaries between dimensions had dissolved. Where was I? Who was this girl? What was she saying? W
hat did it mean?

  “Uh-huh.” She picked up the remote. “Like Ms Wallenstein said, we’re on the brink of adulthood. Now is when we should be exploring ourselves and expanding our limits. You know, before we’re so old we can’t even remember being young.”

  Did she actually think I’d believe that? I’d never known ZiZi to have any real desire to explore much more than the mall. “No, be honest here. What brought this on? Are all your other friends going away to be counsellors at Summer camp? Or is the Mob after you and you want to lie low?”

  “You’re too young to be so cynical.” It was the wrong remote. She picked up another. “A girl can change her mind, can’t she? And anyway, I just told you. I’ve been thinking it over. I feel it’ll help me grow as a person, and this is the time to do it. While I’m young and all my options lie ahead of me.” She tried a third remote. “It’s now or never.”

  “Your pool-party friends are all going away, aren’t they? That has to be it.”

  “You’re the one who’s always at me to broaden my horizons and rush out and grab my potential.” She dug remote number four out of the side of the sofa. “I didn’t expect you to be so suspicious.”

  I was looking right at her. “That is it, isn’t it?”

  ZiZi was looking at the TV. “Okay, so maybe Shona, Marilee and Isla are going to be out of town for the duration. That doesn’t mean I don’t really want to grow as a person. I could find other people to hang out with if I really wanted to, you know.”

  Sometimes ZiZi acts as if we’ve never been introduced; as if I have no idea what she’s like or how her mind works.

  “Oh, wait a minute.” I put my hand out to stop her pressing play. “It’s Dillon, isn’t it?” She might be able to replace Shona, Marilee and Isla; Dillon would be a lot more difficult. “What happened to the movie you were going to be working on with him?”