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Not One of the Girls - Part 1
🕑 Added 2020-11-12 06:26:17 +0000 UTCPARTS - PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6
Like they so didn't think of me as one of the girls! How could she say such a thing! I was just so angry with my mother that I nearly rang up Anna to say that I wouldn't becoming. But then I decided it would prove her even more wrong if I did go! One of the girls, indeed; what a terrible thing to say to her son! Anna and the others knew very well that I was a boy, of course, they did! And they let me hang around with them because they liked me, and thought I was funny, not, and I repeat not, because they thought I was one of the girls.
Once I had resolved to go, I had to decide what to wear. It was the middle of summer, so I decided to wear shorts. The girls were lucky, they could wear skirts when it was as hot as this, but the shorts were the next best thing. They were better in some ways. You can wear shorter shorts than skirts and still be decent but I didn't want to look too, sort of out of place next to the girls. I bit my lip. Oh, just go for it, I told myself and slipped the denim pair on.
Now when I said they were tight, I mean totally tight! They bit into the top of my legs once I'd worn them for more than an hour or so, I was always left with ugly marks, you know, on my skin. Still, I thought, as I looked at myself in the mirror, they should do. Now some boys wear socks with shorts, can you believe that? It is just so not the thing to do! I had a nice pair of sandals in blue to go with this pair, and I slipped them on. Now that looked okay, although my knees were a bit of a funny shape.
Now choosing a top to go with it was more difficult. It was going to be such a hot day, I could tell, especially wandering around the shops with the girls! I had taken precautions of course. I had smothered my armpits in deodorant so that they sort of looked white underneath. That might be a problem if I had to lift my arms, but at least they wouldn't smell!
In the end, I went with a tight blacktop. I liked it, and it left my arms uncovered,
Now wearing tight shorts had one disadvantage. I couldn't really carry anything in the pockets. Not that I like doing that in jeans either really, it sort of ruins the shape. So I had got myself a little bag to carry essential stuff in, like my money, and a hairbrush, and a few other bits and pieces. I was a bit self-conscious carrying it at first, in case people thought it was like a handbag or something like that. But after a while, I got used to it, and people never really stared or anything like I had imagined they might. I checked what was in it, slipped in my trusty cell phone, and slung it over my shoulder. I was ready, and wouldn't be that late.
Well, I didn't think I would be anyway. What I hadn't realized is that my mum was going to have another go at me on the way out. What did I think I looked like she wanted to know? Well, actually, like I thought I looked pretty cool, but she didn't want to hear that. She said I looked like a girl! Oh really? Like a girl would wear her hair like this, would she, I asked her? I mean, I knew I sometimes wore it in a pony just to freak her out, but today, I had let it just hang loose. And no, I told her, I hadn't shaved my legs! I just wasn't all that hairy!
Somehow she couldn't get over the fact that I didn't look like an athlete like my Dad. She just couldn't face it that at thirteen, I was still skinny and short, and stuff like that. Well maybe I did look a bit like a girl, but all thirteen-year-olds look a bit like a girl unless they're really athletic don't they? I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Well, in the end, I told her I didn't want to talk about it anymore, and just stormed out of the house.
I had to run to the bus stop because Mum and her moaning had made me late. I saw the bus we were supposed to be catching leave long before I could reach the bus stop, so I was pretty miserable as I trotted the last few hundred yards to the stop. I was certain that the others would have gone on without me, and I'd have to get the next bus on my own.
But when I turned the final corner, there were three figures at the bus stop, and they all waved to me! That was just so sweet, they had deliberately missed the bus so that they could travel in with me. That was why I loved these girls!
Anna said she liked my top, and that really got me fluttering.
It felt so good to be with my friends after my argument with Mum, and we spent the next fifteen minutes talking about what we were going to look for in town and giggling like kindergarten kids.
The bus came along, and we all stepped in and paid our fares.
It was about a 20 minute ride to the mall, and we filled our time talking about all sorts of things.
