“It’s John.” I replied. “Is that you Pete?” I asked.
My school friend poked his head out from behind the door.
My jaw dropped and my eyes grew to the size of saucers as he stepped out to reveal himself.
“Mum always makes me dress like this at home.” Peter meekly told me.
“That’s why I never ask anyone to come round.”
I tore my eyes from him and panned around his room.
“Is this all your stuff?” I asked. I
couldn’t think of anything better to say.
“I don’t like any of it.” Peter claimed.
“Mum just buys it for me…
I think she wishes I was a girl.” he muttered.
“That’s not true!” his mother said as she appeared behind me.
She must have been listening from the corridor.
“There’s no reason why boys can’t wear nice clothes too.” she said before asking me if I had any ‘nice’ clothes at home.
I shook my head.
“Oh that’s a shame.” she said.
“would you like some?” she asked.
“Er… not really.
I don’t think my Mum would approve.” I stammered.
This is a pretty weird exchange by anyone’s reckoning,
it got even stranger when she said I’d never know unless I asked.
She turned to Peter and suggested he show me his dollies.
“I don’t think he’s interested in those Mum.” Peter sheepishly replied as my jaw hit the floor.
When he corrected himself and said “Mummy.” my jaw hit the basement floor!
Pete’s mother asked if we’d like a drink of juice,
but we both declined, she left us alone.
Pete looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
“Sorry Peter… I wouldn’t have called if I’d known.” I said, before assuring him that I’d not tell a soul about this.
I glanced at his clothes rails and its resplendent display of prissy dresses.
The shelf above is home to a handbag,
a dummy head with pink bonnet perched on it,
various cute cuddly toys
and a variety of other girlie items.
A large book titled My Princess Diary also sits there.
Peter himself isn’t actually wearing a dress, but he may as well be.
On his feet is a pair of pale blue girl’s shoes with two buckled straps, both decorated with a blue leather bow.
He wears a pair of white lace knee socks with frills around their cuffs,
and pale blue shorts with no pockets,
no button
or even a zip fly.
His white shirt is clearly a girl’s blouse
it has pale blue frilly trim around the collar as well as around the cuffs of its short puffed sleeves.
Beneath it, I spy the telltale lacy trim of what I assume is a girl’s vest.
I try not to think about whether he’s wearing knickers too.
“I’d better go Pete.” I said, before once again assuring him that his secret is safe with me.
When I arrived home,
my mother asked what I’d been up to
“Just knocking about. I got bored so I came home.” I said
“Didn’t you call for your friend Peter?” she asked,
since that is what I said I was doing when I left.
I lied and told her he wasn’t in before going to my own room.
“Thank God I don’t have Pete’s mother!” I thought as I entered my own ‘normal’ bedroom.
The next time I saw Peter was on Monday at school.
He was very sheepish around me,
probably because he thinks I’ll have told everyone what I’d witnessed.
I thought it best not to mention it as the school could be the only time he can be a normal boy.
I did tell him that he could call round to my place if he wants.
“If you’re allowed,” I said.
“I might be allowed after school one day.” he replied.
“But I’ll have to ask.”