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Monkey Business -7- Only a Child - by Melanie Brown
🕑 Added 2023-10-06 02:59:16 +0000 UTCMonkey Business Part 7
By
Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2023
Still rattled from my encounter at the Dew Drop Inn, I slowly walked into my house. My parents were sitting on the couch watching TV. At first they didn’t really look up. Mom said, “Hey Randy. How did the shoot go?”
I took a few steps toward them. My blouse was still pulled open. With a cry breaking in my voice, I said, “Mom.”
For a few seconds my parents don’t really react to me.
I took a few more steps and said, “Mom.”
Mom finally looked up at me. Her eyes widened. “Randy! What happened to you? My God, are you okay?” She lept to her feet. I started to cry. Dammit. I didn’t want to cry.
Suddenly looking horror struck, as she reached out towards me, Mom asked, “Baby, what happened to you? Why is your blouse torn open?”
The tears started to flow. “Oh, Mom. It was horrible. This guy… this man, pulled my clothes open. He grabbed my arm.”
Dad stood up and shouted at Colin, “Boy, what happened to Randy?
Mom held me as I stood there and shook. I felt so ashamed.
Colin stepped up next to me. “We were going to have lunch at that country bar, um, it has that stupid name… Dew Drop Inn. She was attacked by a some drunk.”
Looking incredulous, Dad said, “Attacked? Attacked how? Tell me, boy!”
I looked over at Dad while Mom held me. “I was by myself. And a drunk tried to pick me up.”
Furious, Dad shouted, “Is that true, boy? You left someone dressed like that all alone in that dive? What the hell were you thinking?”
Colin took a step back and said, “It was less than five minutes, sir. I swear. My dad and I have been there many times without any problems!”
Mom said, “Were you dressed like that and left alone?” Mom scowled at Colin as she growled, “That is not a place to take a young woman and leave her.” Mom just called me a young woman. What the hell?
Sounding worried, Colin said, “Let me bring in all her modeling clothes and then I should probably leave.”
Dad snarled, “Boy, you definitely need to leave. I don’t want you taking Randy anywhere dangerous like that again.”
I just stood there with Mom as she stroked my hair. She softly cooed, “You’re okay, Randy. You’re home now.”
As Colin got into his truck, Dad said to me, “I don’t want you hanging around with that boy anymore.”
I looked over at Dad and said, “But he’s my best friend.”
Dad grunted. “Some friend he is!” He turned to look at me. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
I looked down at my arm. “As tight as he grabbed my arm, I was afraid it would bruise. But so far it hasn’t.”
Mom slowly rebuttoned my top. Luckily, none of the buttons had popped off. She smiled as she said, “I know a nice little place to have lunch. Just the two of us. Let’s fix your face first.”
I’d stopped shaking. I felt foolish. I said, “Shouldn’t I just go wash my face, Mom? And change clothes? I feel stupid dressed like this.”
Mom shook her head. “Oh no, honey. You look beautiful. Let me take you to this place. Just me and you.”
“I’m not sure I want to go anywhere, Mom. I was just attacked in a restaurant, for crissakes,” I said whipping my nose with my finger.
Dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Remember what grandpa always said. If you fall off the horse you gotta get right back on.”
I studied Dad’s face a moment. “Then why can’t I get back up on a motorcycle and race?”
Dad frowned. “We’re just talking about horses. Don’t be a wiseass.”
Mom took my arm and started to lead me towards her and Dad’s bedroom. “Let’s go fix your face and go to this great place. Dad will have to stay here and hold his horses.”
Mom had me sit down at her vanity. She picked up one of my hands to look at. She said, “Your nails are gorgeous, Randi. Did they do this at the studio?”
I gave Mom an odd look. “Well, I didn’t do it.”
Mom frowned slightly. “Too bad I don’t have a matching lipstick. Your lips definitely need a touch-up.”
Even though I really just wanted to wash my face, I said, “They gave it to me. It’s in my purse.”
Mom’s eyes brightened. “Oh! Let me get your purse right quick.” Mom dashed out of her room for a few seconds and returned with my purse. She had it opened and was already digging through it. “I found it. This is a cute purse.”
She handed me the lipstick. “Hang on to this for a minute. All we really need to fix is your eye make-up.”
As she went to work on my face, I said, “Mom. Have you blown a gasket or something? I’m not a girl.”
Mom shrugged. “Humor me. I never get to do this. And since you’re already dressed, why waste it?” She pulled a dress from her closet and laid it on the bed. She sat next to me and picked up my hand. With a serious expression she said, “I don’t want you to get the idea that something bad will happen if you decide to dress in an attractive outfit in the future. You make an incredibly beautiful girl. Don’t be afraid to show who you are. Now fix your lips and go wait in the living room while I change.”
As I stood up, I shook my head at Mom. “You’re changing into that dress? Why? Who gets dressed up just to go to lunch?”
Mom’s eyes were bright. “Women do.”
As I exited Mom and Dad’s room, Dad stepped back. He’d been listening! He followed me down the hall to the living room and sat next to me on the couch.
“I have to admit your mother’s right. You need to be yourself, even if it means being a twink.”
I nodded with a frown. “Thank you Dad, for those words of encouragement.” I guess I can’t expect much more from my dad.
He touched my arm. “Oh, and another thing if you’re going to insist on dressing like this. If you find yourself in another situation like the one with the drunk…” He paused a moment. “If you ever do, just remember. Nobody expects a woman to fight clean. Just kick the bastard in the nuts and run away. Nobody will think bad of you for it.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Honestly, I wish I had done that.
Mom stepped into the living room. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Dad stood up. “You’re beautiful, honey. You look great in that dress.”
I stood up as well. Mom did look beautiful. I’ve always thought she was pretty, but I rarely see her in a nice dress and wearing much make-up. I said, “You are beautiful, Mom.”
Blushing, Mom said, “Let’s go eat.” She walked up to Dad and kissed him, leaving a lipstick mark on his lips. She grinned and said, “Hold that thought.”
I followed Mom to her car and got in. Dad watched from the porch as we drove away.
* * *
Mom parked near a restaurant named Mandalay. It was originally a large residence, but had been renovated into a restaurant. The three bedrooms provided a place for private dining or a lunch meeting. I’d never been to it before. It caters mainly to women, not that men aren’t allowed. The menu just doesn’t appeal much to men. There are no steaks or burgers. Just a wide variety of soups, chef salads and those little triangle shaped sandwiches that men hate.
Just inside the door, a woman greeted us. “Welcome, ladies. Good afternoon! I’ll show you to your table.”
I was surprised. The place was packed. It seemed to be all professional women. Managers, assistants or like Mom and I, overdressed lunch customers. I kinda expected it, but was still surprised to see no men.
The menus the woman handed us after we were seated seemed little more than pamphlets. Mom surprised me by getting wine. I wanted a Dr. Pepper, but had to get sparkling water. I didn’t really like it.
Mom ordered for both of us. She ordered the soup of the day along with chef salads and a small plate of ham sandwiches… the small triangular variety.
Mom hadn’t stopped smiling since we entered. “Isn’t this great? The atmosphere is perfect.” She pointed to the arrangement of pink and white carnations on the table. She chuckled, “You won’t see this in Mickey D’s.”
I looked around at the paintings on the walls and all the flowers. The walls were painted lavender with white trim. I said, “There’s a definite feminine vibe here. I feel my balls shrinking by the second.”
Mom frowned at me. “Don’t be vulgar, dear. I thought you’d appreciate it here.”
I nodded. “I do like it here, Mom. It’s very relaxing. Very comfortable.”
Mom looked around and quickly removed a carnation from the arrangement. “Lean towards me for a second, honey.” I leaned forward and Mom slid the stem of the carnation over my ear to where the flower was visible through my hair. She grinned at me. “Looks cute.”
Just then, our soup arrived. I scooped up a few bites. “Hey, this is really good.” Mom agreed.
Just as I was finishing off my soup, a group of women near us were obviously finished and all stood up. One woman looked at me curiously. She stepped up to our table and said, “Pardon me for intruding, but my curiosity has gotten the best of me. Would you by any chance be that pink girl?”
I furrowed my brow at the woman. “Pink girl?”
Looking frustrated, the woman said, “Oh… that girl in the pink racing suit or whatever it’s called.”
I smiled and said, “Yes. That would be me.”
Grinning, the woman said, “I thought so. I’ll have to tell my son I met you. He has a couple of large posters of you on his wall.”
Feeling surprised, I said, “Really?” I then remembered the posters Mr. Adams had made from some photos taken at the track. One is of me taken with a telephoto lens, gripping the rail of the sidecar as I was leaning severely, trying to keep the bike on the track, my expression looking all badass, all three wheels of the bike momentarily off the ground, a shower of mud and dirt behind me. There’s also a poster of the picture Colin had taken of me on his 250, high in the air, all crossed up.
The woman said, “Oh yes. He’s quite a fan. He’ll be glad to know that you’re fine after your accident.”
I nodded. “Yes. I guess I was pretty lucky.”
The woman then laughed. “Oh. Some other good news I can tell my son. His best friend was trying to convince him that you’re really a boy. Having met you, I can tell him that you are most definitely not a boy. You take care of yourself, miss.” The woman along with the other women she was with, turned and left the restaurant.
I pulled the carnation from my hair and twirled the stem and stared at it. I sighed heavily. “But I am a boy.”
Mom looked at me with sad eyes. She pulled the flower from my grasp and put it back in my hair. Under her breath, Mom said, “I’m not so sure anymore.”
* * *
I knocked my phone from the bedside table onto the floor. I leaned over the side of the bed hoping to see it. I reached for it and wound up falling out of my bed. Disoriented, I fumbled around and finally got the phone. By the time I picked it up, the call had already gone to voice mail. I sighed, angry that anyone would call me before noon on the few remaining days of summer vacation.
The call was from Nick. Not happy at finding myself on the floor instead of being asleep, I said to aloud, “What the hell does he want?” I glared at the phone. I guess I could listen to the voicemail and find out. I punched a few buttons and put the phone on speaker.
Nick’s recorded voice said, “Hey bud. Do you ever answer your phone? Anyway, I need to discuss a few things. First, I got a call this morning from Colin. He’s picking up his bike saying he’s not going to let you borrow it anymore. Said something about not being allowed to see you anymore. Dude. Were you and Colin dating? Also, Spencer from the track hasn’t heard from you about whether or not your new leathers fit. Can you try them on… like this morning, and let him know? And lastly, come over here. I have a possible deal for you. But I need you to come here. Come by after lunch if possible. See ya.”
I picked up the phone and shouted at it, “No! I’m not dating Colin! Sheesh!”
I stood up and put the phone back on the table. In my closet hung the new leathers, still in their protective plastic bag. I guessed I should go ahead and try them on. Who knew when I’d be back at the track. I sighed. Mr. Adams wants me there whether I’m racing or not.
I stripped down to my panties. Yes, panties. They’re just too darned comfortable. I pulled the leathers from the plastic bag. I was immediately hit by the smell. Wow. Real leather. I studied them a moment to figure out how to put them on. After a few minutes, I finally got inside and zipped them up.
Holy crap. They felt great. They fit perfect. There were ventilation pockets that actually seemed to work. I stepped in front of the mirror and couldn’t believe it. I looked like I had a girlish figure. And then I noticed something else. I actually screamed “NO!” I tried pushing it around, but I couldn’t change the appearance. There was a fold in the crotch that looked like a camel toe. And I couldn’t do anything about it.
* * *
“I’m in the garage!” called out Nick as I started walking towards his front door. Stupid me. I should always just look there first. I walked around to his garage. He was laying across the bench seat of his truck with a bunch of wires hanging down under the dash.
“Hey Nick!” I called out when I entered his garage. I looked at him a moment before asking, “Hey man, whatcha up to?”
Nick started to sit up, banged his head on the bottom of the dash board, winced and said, “Hey dude. I’m replacing the stereo in my truck. I’m glad you could make it over.”
I folded my arms. “Well, you did made it sound kinda urgent.”
He sat up all the way and then slid out of his truck. “Well, it kinda sorta is. Want a soda? I haven’t opened it yet and it’s only been sitting out a couple of hours?” He winced when he sat up.
“So, what’s so urgent? And how’s your leg and ribs?”
“Not bad. Not bad.” He hobbled over to the middle of his garage. There was a large red shop cloth draped over something in the middle of the garage floor. “How about you? I heard you had some dust up with a drunk in a bar. You’re only seventeen.”
I sighed. “I blame Colin. It’s where he picked for lunch.”
Nick grinned. “Is that why you broke up with him?”
“What?!” I shouted. “No! I mean we weren’t dating! Give me a break, man.”
“That’s what Colin told me. He said you started flirting with some drunk dude and he had to rescue you.”
I took a deep breath. “I think we can all agree that Colin is an idiot. Now, why am I here?”
Nick hobbled his way to whatever it was in the middle of his garage floor. “Races are this weekend, right? And then your boyfriend takes his 250 away from you. What to do, right? Well, how about this?”
Nick tugged on the shop cloth and it slid to the floor, revealing a dinged up and dirty 450 with big nobbies fore and aft. It also had a taillight and a headlight, mirror on the left handlebar. A torn saddle, a speedo, and no exhaust pipe. “What do you think?”
I stepped up close to it and squinted at it. “Not too bad. Get rid of the street stuff and just a little work and you could probably race it.”
“I couldn’t,” said Nick. He picked up a box from the floor. “Check this out. Yoshimura exhaust system. Anyway, maybe with a little help from you, we can get this puppy ready to motocross by Saturday.
“Go ahead. Start it up. It runs great. With both of us, I think getting it ready would be a cinch.”
“I’m sure we could, but Nick. You can’t race with your leg busted. I mean, it’s like busted in three places.” I said after kicking the engine through. The engine started first kick.
Grinning, Nick said, “But you can race.”
I revved the engine a few times filling the garage with blue smoke indicating the engine needed a ring job. And God knows what else. I shook my head, “Mom has laid down the law. She doesn’t want me racing anymore since the last race almost killed me.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Fuck that, man. You weren’t almost killed. That pretty face of yours didn’t get one scratch. And Saturday you won’t be racing on asphalt. Talk to her. Tell her you have Castrol in your veins.”
Shrugging, I said, “I’ll talk to her. I know what she’s gonna say. She wants me to do more modeling.”
Nick nodded at me. “Spencer showed me some of the pictures from the photoshoot. If you don’t want to risk breaking a nail, I’ll understand. You’re very beautiful and very feminine.”
I shook my head. “I wish people would quit saying that.”
“Well you are. Deal with it,” said Nick with a chuckle.
Still shaking my head, I said, “I’ll talk to her. See ya.”
* * *
“I said no, honey.”
“But Mom! Nick and I have been fixing up a bike he bought off Doug.”
Dad said as he looked up from watching TV, “You have a death wish son? Wasn’t getting almost killed a few weeks ago enough for you?”
I stood up, putting my hands on my hips. “I was not almost killed. I didn’t even get a scratch!”
Mom looked up from her Kindle and said, “Honey, you’re just too young.”
I folded my arms. “Age has nothing to do with it. There are plenty of racers my age. There’s an old geezer Dad’s age who consistently comes in last, so his age doesn’t help. There are even girls who race! And they’re highly competitive.”
Mom took a stern look at me. “Can you promise you won’t get hurt?”
I laughed. “I can’t make that promise just walking out the door! Please, you guys. Nick and I worked so hard to get this bike race ready! I don’t want to be afraid to get back up on a bike. Remember what you said about getting back up on a horse?”
Dad frowned. “Yes. And again I wasn’t talking about motorcycles!”
Raising my voice, I said, “It’s the same thing and you know it, Dad! You know I’m a good rider. I promise if I get killed, I’ll never ask to race again. I don’t want people thinking I’m to chicken to get on a bike again.”
Mom frowned at me. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.”
“I have to prove it to myself.”
* * *
Saturday morning, I walked into Nick’s garage and shouted, “Are you ready to rumble?”
Nick banged his head on his truck’s dashboard as he tried to sit up. After rubbing his head, Nick managed to sit up in his truck. Grinning, he said, “I’m ready for some racing. Good job on breaking down your parents’ resolve.”
“I resorted to crying.”
Nick chuckled. “Whatever works. Go put on your leathers. Doug will be here any minute.”
I ran my fingers down the length of the bike’s saddle. “Why is Doug coming here?”
Nick said, “He’s going to help load the bike on the trailer. I can’t because of this busted leg. And my ribs still hurt.” He pointed at the bike trailer. “Help me hitch this thing to the truck and then get your leathers on.”
I rolled the trailer up to the rear of Nick’s truck and dropped the hitch down on the ball. I whacked the latch with the palm of my hand and inserted the cotter pin. “All set. I’ll go change.”
It’s not a secret anymore about me wearing pink leathers, but I still wanted to change into them at Nick’s place. About ten minutes later, I returned to Nick’s garage.
He grinned when he saw me. “Looking good.” He then burst out laughing. “Nice camel toe.”
I frowned. “You’re not supposed to notice.”
A horn honked from Nick’s driveway as a pickup truck pulled in. Doug and his girlfriend hopped out. They walked up to the bike.
Pointing, Doug said, “You did a great job on this, Nick.”
Nick pointed at me. “I got a lot of help from Randy.”
Doug looked over at me with a surprised expression. “Really? Did she hand you the correct wrench this time?”
Nick shrugged. “Randy’s not a bad mechanic.”
Doug grabbed the bike’s handlebars. “Well, let’s get this puppy loaded.”
I started to hold the handlebars to help load when Doug’s girlfriend touched my arm. “Just stand back, sweetie. This is a job for big girls.”
I stood there fuming while Doug and his chick rolled the bike up the ramp and his girlfriend held it steady while Doug locked the straps down. Pouting, I was furious nobody thinks I’m capable.
Nick punched Doug’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dude!”
Grinning, Doug said, “See you at the track. I’ll help you unload.”
Nick said to me, “Go ahead and hop in the truck while I lock up. Sorry that we won’t have any tunes on the drive over.”
I frowned at Nick. “You know, I’m just as capable to help load as that girl.”
Nick shook his head. “Are you letting that eat you? Sorry babe, But if that bike started to go over on either side, you wouldn’t be able to hold it. Get in the truck.”
I climbed into the truck and closed the door. As Nick locked his house up, I fumed, “I’m not helpless!”
When we got to the track, Nick parked. He turned to me. “I guess I need to call Doug. I thought he’d be here already.”
I frowned. “Come on , Nick. I can help you roll the stupid bike off the trailer.”
Hobbling over to the trailer, Nick said, “Are you sure you can handle it? I can’t help a lot with my leg.”
I grabbed the handlebars and braced myself. “I’m ready.”
Nicked took a deep breath and popped one side of the straps. The forks popped up and the remaining strap pulled the bike quickly towards me. I couldn’t hold it! The weight was about to push me over. Oh crap! It’s about to fall over on me! Nick tried to grab the bike but couldn’t.
Someone stepped in and took the handlebars from me. “I’ve got it honey,” said a female voice. I stepped back and saw it was Doug’s girlfriend. Grinning she said, “Like I said sweetie, this is a job for the big girls.” As she and Doug began to roll the bike off the trailer, she continued, “A pretty little girl like you should probably stick with modeling.”
I folded my arms and scowled at her. She looked at me and chuckled. To Doug, she said, “Am I wrong?”
As they rolled the bike from the trailer, Doug said, “Yes, she’s beautiful, but she’s also a strong competitor.”
His girlfriend was about to say something else when Nick said, “Hey guys. Thanks for the help in unloading. We need to go check in.”
Doug grinned. “No problem, bud. We’ll see you after the races.” He looked at me and smiled. “Hey, we’re all rooting for you.”
Nick tapped my shoulder. “Don’t let her get to you. I really don’t think she’s trying to be mean. Let’s get you checked in and maybe get a hotdog.”
“It pisses me off!” I said as we walked towards check-in with Nick hobbling along. To no one in particular, I grumbled, “I’m not a little girl!”
As we were getting me checked in, one race official who I think was probably Nick’s age, said, “Your bike is new. We’ll give you a new number for your plate.” He looked at a list and then at me and he grinned. “Your number will be 69.” His grin spread wide.
I shook my head. “I want a different number.”
“Sorry. All decisions are final,” smirked the official.
An older woman sitting at the same table said, “Ralph, give her a different number. That number isn’t even allowed.”
Ralph wrote something down and then handed me a new sheet. My new number was 00.
“No, I want a real number.”
Looking indignant, Ralph demanded, “What’s wrong with 00?”
Frowning, I said, “It looks like boobs.”
Grinning, Ralph said, “Yeah. It does.” He chuckled.
The woman sitting next to Ralph, took the paper, and wadded it up. She said, “Oh for goodness sake.” She took another piece of paper and wrote something on it. She said, “Here, sweetie. Your plate number is 35. How’s that?”
I said, “I’ll take it.” Using black electrician’s tape, Nick formed the number on our blank number plates. I noticed on my form, my name was spelled Randi.
Rolling the bike to the starting line, I asked Nick, “Do you think I’m a girl?”
Nick stopped walking. “No. I know you’re not. But sorry to tell you, you are effeminate. It’s easy to be confused by the vibe you put out. If someone doesn’t know you, they’re going to get the impression you’re a girl. And those pictures of you wearing skirts and dresses sure don’t help.”
“So I should dump the modeling and be more aggressive?” I asked as I pulled my bright pink helmet on. Another gift from Spencer Adams.
Nick shook his head. “Definitely not. That modeling is a good gig. And you’ll just look silly if you try to act aggressive. Honestly? You need to figure out who you are and then be you. It seems to me, you’re happier as a chick. But that’s up to you.”
I nodded and waved at Nick, as I rode quickly to the starting gate. They’ve changed to using a gate that drops flat instead of using the rubber band. I got in line with the other riders. There were about twenty of us in the open class. I revved the engine a few times. I loved the deep throated exhaust note of my big bore four stroke.
My focus narrowed down the gate. A few guys had watched me roll up to the gate. They had shaken their heads at me. To them I was just wasting my time. I pulled in the clutch and dropped into first gear with a loud clunk.
The gate dropped and I let out the clutch as I cranked up my RPMs. I shot across the gate, but was already behind about six others. Several of us were almost touching as we banked into the first turn. Following the turn was a straight with three short hills, the first of which I hit hard. My bike launched into the air where I cleared the next two hills completely,
There was a berm immediately after the hills for the second turn. The bike in front of me took the turn a bit too wide and I passed him on the inside. There was a sudden drop after the turn. My bike was in the air all the way down. Water had collected at the base so it was nice and muddy when I landed hard. I almost slipped off the bike as the suspension bottomed-out.
I wasn’t expecting the dirt to be so soft going into the third turn. I went hi-side which tossed me from the bike and I landed in the other side of the berm, my bike burying itself in the soft dirt. I scrambled over to my bike as three others went past me. The engine was still running and I jumped on it, popped the clutch and showered whoever was behind me in a rooster tail of dirt.
I avoided the washboard by jumping over it completely and passed another bike on the short straight before starting the second lap.
I was beat and covered in dirt when I finally blasted across the finish to a disappointing fourth place. Nick walked with me back to the pit area. “You did great kiddo. The bike is heavier than what you’re used to with a lot more torque. Now that you know what you’re doing, I’m sure you’ll do better in the remaining motos.”
“I sure hope so,” I said as I collapsed exhausted into one of the chairs we’d brought. Nick tossed me a soda and a bag of chips.
And Nick was right. I did much better in the next three motos to finish third over-all. Not bad for my first time out in this class.
* * *
“Do you know what you’ll be modeling today?” asked Mom as I poured a cup of orange juice. Suzie from Spencer Adams studio had called me the night before to ask me to come in for a photo shoot. I was surprised when she said the client had even asked for me specifically to model. I’ve gotten in the habit of shaving my legs and underarms, but this morning, I shaved extra close. I was wearing one of my new skirts and tops and the new shoes Mom had bought me. It still felt weird to wear high heels.
I sat next to Mom and shook my head. “All they hinted at was that it was a high end client who had asked for me specifically. Weird, huh?”
Mom smiled as she took a sip of her coffee. “Not at all. You make the clients clothes look good so it follows you’ll be in demand. And you look nice this morning. I love that skirt.”
“Thanks,” I said after downing my orange juice. “Dad doesn’t really like to see me dressed like this.” Dad had already left for work.
Mom shrugged. “I think your father will come around eventually. Just give him time.”
I stood up. “Well, I need to run. Mr. Adams wants me there a little before nine this morning.”
Mom sipped her coffee again. “Is Colin picking you up again?”
I shook my head. “No. I think Dad scared him. He hasn’t even called me. But apparently from what Suzie told me, the client has her own male model. She told me his name and I think I go to school with him. So I’m a little worried about that. How will he react seeing me dressed as a girl?”
Mom smiled at me. “Try not to worry about that and just be beautiful.”
I grinned. “I hope that’s enough. See ya.”
* * *
I sighed when I saw I’d have to park across the street again. There was a van parked in front of the studio with a company name of “Carol’s Bridal & Formals.” Was I going to be modeling wedding dresses? And, Homecoming wasn’t very far away either. I decided there was no point in guessing as I walked through the door.
Mr. Adams rushed up to me as I entered. “Randi! Great. You’re here early. You’re going to just love the shoot today.” He then gestured to a woman standing behind him.. “Carol. Please come meet today’s model.”
The woman, who I guessed was the owner of Carol’s Bridal and Formals, stepped beside Mr. Adams. She extended her hand towards me and we had a rather uncomfortable, wimpy handshake. “So you must be Randi! Mr. Adams has told me so much about you. You’re this simply beautiful young woman and you race motorcycles!” She laughed lightly. “I just find that extraordinary especially since you have delicate hands.”
She made me feel uncomfortable. Not sure how to respond to being told my hands were delicate, I just smiled slightly and said, “Thank you.”
Mr. Adams clapped his hands once and announced, “Okay everyone. We’re burning daylight, so let’s get started. Randi, you know the drill. Go see Suzie for make-up. We’re going for a more dramatic look this time.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.” I turned and hurried down the hall to find Suzie.
I found Suzie in her room, ready to make me gorgeous. I felt silly thinking that. Being gorgeous was something I never thought about before. Her assistant also appeared ready to do my nails. Last time, I discovered I liked having my nails done. I sighed. There’s no doubt. I’m sliding into the pink side.
Suzie spent more time on my make-up than she had in the past. “Girl, don’t be surprised if men don’t just throw themselves at your feet.”
I shook my head. “Don’t talk crazy.”
Suzie shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ ya. Okay. Go to the dressing room to get into your first dress. There’s an assistant to help you. Knock ‘em dead!” I just laughed and walked over to the women’s dressing room. I still haven’t seen who the guy is for the shoot.
A woman in the changing room smiled at me. “Oh! You are so beautiful!” I’m going to get a complex if I keep hearing that. “I’m Laura, your assistant this morning. Okay, now strip down to your undies and remove your earrings. We’re going to loan you real diamond earrings and a diamond necklace for the shoot.”
I put the earrings I was wearing into my purse and got down to my underwear. Oh great. I’m going to lose an earring and owe millions of dollars.
The first dress Laura pulled out of a box was beautiful. Not that I’m an expert on dresses. She called it a mermaid dress and she actually had to put me in a corset and squeeze down my waist. I had to wear the corset for all the wedding dresses. The dress was white lace and satin. It was tight down my legs and flared at the knees. She had to help me step into the white, satin heels.
She checked out everything and made sure the dress was smooth. I really hoped the pictures were quick.
Laura giggled and said, “Okay, let’s go out and meet your husband.”
“My what?” I asked, almost falling off my heels.
Laura laughed. “The male model. He’ll be modeling a tux.”
With swishing satin, I walked into the studio. Carol smiled. “What a lovely bride! Have you met the male model?”
I looked at him. He was a boy about my same age and dressed to the nines. I said, “He looks familiar. I think I go to school with him.” Why did I say that? I’ll be going to school as a boy and here I am wearing a wedding dress.
The boy couldn’t take his eyes off me. He said, “Hi. I’m Tony. I think I’ve seen you at school. Yeah. We had the same English class.” True. We did. Thank God it wasn’t P.E.
I forced a smile. “Oh, hey Tony. I remember you now.” Terrific.
He laughed. “I remember a couple of guys thought you were a dude.”
I grinned nervously. “Pretty silly, huh?”
I hope we get the pictures soon. The dress is so tight, I’m afraid of splitting a seam trying to breathe. Can you breathe through your pores?
Carol said, “Okay guys. Here’s the plan. We have five wedding dresses and three tuxedos. So for each dress change, Tony you’ll have to change your outfit three times so we can get a picture of each tux with each dress. I know it’s a hassle, but it’s what we have to do.”
Tony piped up saying, “That doesn’t bother me at all.” Hopefully I won’t expire from asphyxiation.
I was glad when the shooting started. Tony and I each got a shot by ourselves and then a bunch of shots of us posing together. I liked Tony. I have to admit he’s very cute. More cute than Colin. Why did I think that? He was very nice and had a great sense of humor which helped the morning go by. It annoyed me though how he kept sniffing me and telling me how pretty I smelled. Maybe he should sniff me in my leathers after an afternoon of racing. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn that perfume Mom bought me.
We finally got down to the final dress. It was the prettiest. Mr. Adams was handling the photography himself and kept directing us. For the final set of pictures, he said to just keep moving and looking like we were in love while he rapidly snapped the pictures.
At one point, I slid my arms around Tony’s neck, and I was suddenly struck by him. His eyes were such a deep blue. His jaw line smooth yet masculine. His hair playfully tousled. Against my better senses, I found myself attracted to him. He winked and then bent his head to me. I wanted to pull away but closed my eyes instead. His lips touched mine. I thought of Colin’s kiss. Just a child. I leaned into Tony’s warm, soft lips. What in the Sam Hill am I doing?
Carol asked, “Did you get that Mr. Adams?”
Spencer chuckled. “I sure did!”
End of Part 7
Comments
Samantha Herat
I think Randi just found her self at long last. Tough and competitive, yet feminen, charming, alluring, and just drop dead gorgeous lol. She has started wearing high heels, has her ears pierced just so gorgeous and looks good in pink leathers lol.
Clemens
Oh my...there the boy went out the window....
lisa charlenne
i think its time randi accepts shes a girl and start having fun and dad accepts who she is
Melanie Brown
I'm working on it. The story has become "delicate" and I'm trying to work it out.
lisa charlenne
looking forward to the next chapter
