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Love Less -8- Giggles
🕑 Added 2018-12-30 14:56:08 +0000 UTC
After trying on a few more clothes, Les had to admit that he did wear them well. Odder still, he discovered that the girlier he looked in the mirror, the safer he felt. No one could look at the girl in the lacy dress and imagine that she might be a boy who was avoiding going to juvie.
In one way, it scared him to discover this. What if he ended up here for months? Would he get so used to dressing as a girl that he would not want to go back to being a boy? What if when his parents came for him they didn’t want to take him home because he was no longer their son?
And what happened when the Davenports discovered his deception? Because—how could they not, eventually?
“What’s wrong?” Pris asked, pausing in her efforts to reorganize the closet to make a separate part just for the clothes Elle was choosing.
“I-I can’t take your things,” Les said again. He had to say something.
“Sure you can, I already got permission from my Mom to give them to you.”
“No,” he said. “I mean, when I leave, I won’t… you don’t understand. We live in motels and trailers and shacks, your stuff is way too nice for—for me.” He knew he would start crying again in a moment.
Pris emerged from the closet and rushed to Elle’s side. “Hug?” she offered, arms open wide.
The two did hug briefly but Les broke away, sniffling.
Pris handed him a tissue. “So, when you leave, if you leave, take what you can with you. Okay?”
“I—,” he tried to protest.
“No, no,” Pris insisted. “We’ve got nice things because we’re rich and if we don’t give some of it away, we’ll all go to hell.” She seemed completely serious. “You don’t want me to go to hell, do you?”
Les broke up, laughing and crying at the same time. Pris joined in the laughing and gave him another hug. Then she handed him a box of tissue.
Wiping his eyes and blowing his nose gave Les time to think. On some level, he wanted out of the mess he was in. Wearing girl’s clothes was not the right thing to do, he felt sure. But dressing as a boy would probably result in him being held in some form of juvenile custody that would expose him to the violence of older boys.
And now he understood a little bit more of why he kept getting beat up in such situations. He really did look like a girl, especially with his hair as long as it had gotten. A haircut wasn’t going to fix it though, he suspected. He’d just look like a girl with a boy’s hair style and teenage manly boys were the natural enemies of teenage girly boys.
He smiled, shook his head and sighed. Pris looked at him, also smiling with, with? Sisterly concern? How would he know, he’d never had a sister before.
Or been one.
Would he ever stop crying?
Pris’s concern wasn’t really helping and now he had the hiccoughs. “Hold your nose and breather through your mouth,” she told him.
Well, it got him to stop crying and besides that, it stopped the hiccoughs. Mostly.
“Hic,” he said.
Pris shook her head and then made a face at him, eyes crossed, tongue sticking out sideways.
He giggled and hiccoughed again. Pris brought a washcloth and he washed his face and hands. They sat next to each other on his bed, Elle’s bed, clothes piled on either side of them. Pris held his hands and neither said anything for a long time.
“I’m just worried about my folks, I guess,” Les volunteered. He meant he worried about what they might say about his solution for staying out of juvie. Would he ever escape the consequences of what he was doing?
“What happened?” Pris asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” he admitted.
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” She seemed astonished.
“No one tells kids anything much. Maddy, uh, Mrs. Madison said my dad is in jail for being in a fight and my step-mom is in the hospital. So I know they aren’t dead which is what the cops told me to get me to open the motel room door.”
“They lied?”
Pris’s offended tone was funny. Les giggled. “Cops lie, people lie, all the time to kids.”
“So you—they—.” The unfairness apparently broke Pris’s ability to cope with the information. “Kimby and Carol went through some awful stuff but I didn’t know much about it at the time. I was small. And Mollybell had problems….” She was quiet a moment. “We’ve had other girls stay with us, sometimes just for a few days….” She trailed off again.
Then brightened up. “Aunt Maddy said you would likely be with us for two weeks or so. We can have fun while you’re here.”
Les smiled. “Okay,” he said. He wanted to have fun but he did need to protect his secret. “Am I having all the fun here? Why don’t when I try something on, you do too?”
“Hey! I like that idea but I wish I had some new stuff to try. I’ve got things I haven’t worn in months, mostly because of weather.” She hopped up and disappeared into her closet. “But it’ll be warm enough for some of this stuff soon. And I ought to find out what still fits.” She poked her head out and grinned. “We could end up with a good excuse to go shopping!”
Shopping? thought Les, rolling his eyes. But he picked up another of Pris’s discarded gowns and headed for the bathroom. This one is not going to fit, even I’m not that skinny.
But when he had it on, it did indeed fit and looked good on him. He sighed, looking in the mirror at the slender girl he saw. This thing is so short, if I lift my hands above my head, someone will see my underwear. He blushed though no one else could see.
“Elle,” Pris called from the bedroom. “Come out, I want to show you something. And are you wearing the green mini? You need tights with that or someone will see your panties.” She giggled.
Emerging from the bathroom, Les commented, “You could have told me…. Oh.”
Pris struck a pose in the blue-over-red one-piece swimsuit she was wearing.
Les grinned. “It’s too cold to go swimming, but you look cute in that.”
“I know, huh?” Pris beamed. “But I found two that will probably fit you and not me, anymore.” She pointed at the bed. “And the club has a heated indoor pool.”
“Club?” said Les, looking at the colorful suits lying beside the gowns that had not been tried on yet.
“Evandale Society and Culture Club,” Pris said. “It’s really just a country club but they had to get fancy with the name cause this is Evandale.” She laughed. Then slyly added. “I bet I know which of the suits you’ll want to wear first.”
“Hmph,” said Les. One was almost plain navy blue with stripey white details at the seams and straps. The other was aqua and pink with a fluffy mock skirt just above the hips. He looked over at Pris and picked up the plainer one-piece. “This one?”
She laughed. “Can’t fool me,” she said. “The other would be your favorite. You’re turning into a real girly-girl, now that you have a chance to wear skirts.”
Yikes! thought Les, but he blushed and giggled, too. Pris at least was being fooled by his act. “You should’ve told me about needing tights with this one,” he accused, gesturing at the sea-green dress he wore. “I’m afraid to bend over.”
“It’s just us girls here. And you’d be an idiot not to wear tights outside with a skirt in March around here.” She took another look at Les. “That makes you look like you have really long legs. And it is way too short on me now.”
She handed the pink, skirted swimsuit to him. “Try this on and we’ll see if we can get Mom or Dad or someone to take us to the club after school tomorrow.”
“School?” said Les with a sinking sensation.
“Sure,” said Pris. “You didn’t think you got to skip school just cause your parents have problems, did you? But don’t worry, you’ll go with me. It’s an all girl private school and no one will be trying to look up your skirt.” She laughed.
Les took the girly-girl suit into the bathroom to try on without even thinking about it. He had something new to think about. Could he fool a whole school full of girls into thinking he was one of them?
