The house key was in my purse. Well, it was not really my purse, but Sis had loaned it to me for my friend’s birthday party and sleepover yesterday. The festivities had continued this morning with a trip to the mall. I was just getting home from it now, about four o’clock.

Usually when Bob and I went to the mall, he and I would spend most of our time playing at the SpaceTime Arcade, browsing the videogame and hobby shops, or following trails through Quaestor’s Magic Castle, like other teenagers. But today was not a usual day, and I had a feeling that our days of simply hanging out together were disappearing fast.

And so, I was anxiously fumbling for my house key in my sister’s purse. This was tricky for me, since as a boy, I had never worn long fingernails before. Nor carried a purse. Nor worn my sister’s pink-white-and-purple floral print sundress and violet espadrilles with rope soles and wedge heels tied around my ankles by pink ribbons.

It took a moment to adjust my grip on the key and I hoped that I might enter and get to my room before Mom and Sis actually saw me in this get-up. They’d made sure that I was “appropriately dressed” before Bob’s party yesterday and I felt embarassed enough then wearing my sister’s denim miniskirt and Mom’s ballet flats. Next, the girls at the sleepover had made certain that Bob and I looked unmistakeably girly this morning before going to the mall for his rite of passage into impending girlhood.

Yes, his entry into girlhood. Of course, now I was dressed like a girl, too. I couldn’t help but wonder if Bob’s mom might not have asked me to do this if I had not always worn my hair so long. No, she would’ve asked me to do it anyway. At least I was able to pass as a girl and not to look like a boy in a dress. That would’ve been much worse. My mom and sister helped get me ready for the party and then I’d been given a makeover there along with my friend. Chelsea, Bob’s younger sister, had been especially keen on my getting “girled up.” I was quite certain now that she had a crush on me. But Chelsea had done all she could to make the experience fun for me, and because of that, I hadn’t felt too awkward about it—until now.

His mom, sisters, and girlfriends had taken Bob out to the mall to acquire a complete girl’s wardrobe. I had gone along with him as a witness and as his lone buddy for moral support. So they had prevailed upon me to stay dressed as a girl for his shopping trip. But that was done and all that I wanted, now, was to change back into my regular dull and boring boy’s clothing and clean the girl’s warpaint off my face. I didn’t even want to wear mascara again for playing baseball!

I step onto the ice, taking the puck…

No one was in the vestibule and the lights were off in the living room. I figured this my chance to make it quietly to my room, but I couldn’t quite dash upstairs while wearing these wedgies. So I went straight for the stairs as the lights came on. My sister, Michaela, was waiting for me.

… but immediately Sis checks me hard and I lose the puck to her.

“Oh, Ricky! You’re just so cute!” Sis exclaimed, as she hugged me. She stepped back with her hands on my shoulders, eyeing me up and down. “And you wear that dress better than I ever did!”

“Thanks, Sis—I think?”

“Don’t be silly! You look great! I know quite a few girls who’d be very jealous of you right now.”

She drops a pass behind for Mom…

“Good afternoon, Ricky!” my mom’s voice came from behind me. I turned around as her camera flashed to steal a more candid photo than was fair. “You look just darling! My son makes such a pretty girl!”

I rolled my eyes, sighing, more in relief than anything else. The embarassment seemed to lift somewhat as I did. After all, Mom and Sis had helped me out with this. It was inevitable that they’d see me and get a chance to tease me about it all over again. I went over to the sofa, twirled around, and fell more than sat on it.

… who takes a low shot on goal…

“No no! That won’t do! Knees together, Ricky!”

… and I drop to my knees, blocking her shot.

I tightly closed my legs together thighs to ankles, then tried to stretch the bottom of my dress out. Mom then tightened her lips to keep from laughing at my ungainly attempt at modesty.

Sis tries to control the rebound…

“Bro, like this…,” my sister said and proceeded to demonstrate, smoothing her skirt underneath as she sat in the armchair across from me. Then she crossed her left leg over her other knee and smiled, nodding at me.

So I stood up and sat down again, imitating her move the best I could.

… but I break up the play and clear the puck down the ice.

“I think he has it down,” said Mom approvingly. She took a seat on the other end of the sofa. “I’d like to take you and your sister out tonight, since you’re both dressed up nice enough.”

Mom sets up another play and moves into my zone again. Skating backwards I try to position myself to intercept…

“Mom!” I whined.

“Oh please! It would be fun to make it a girls’ night out with the two of you,” Mom pressed her invitation. “It’s not like we can get you into a dress every day. We must seize the moment!”

… a two-on-one breakaway!

Mom looked hopingly at me with her penetrating blue eyes, radiating that look of expectation that she always does. That look, more than anything she says, is her most powerful tool to break down my resistance. She was holding my left hand in hers, patting it gently. Sis had left her chair and was now sitting on the floor next to me, holding my right hand. I broke eye contact with Mom, only to be caught in my sister’s glance, even more controlling than our mother’s: Sis looked at me with her big, sad, and warm brown puppy-dog eyes.

Mom dumps the puck behind the net, beats me to it, and passes it out to Sis. If I can just get my stick on it…

“Mom! Sis! You’re both giving me those looks! That’s so unfair!” I pled with them. Both faces maintained their controlling looks. I had failed to call their bluffs. Or maybe they weren’t bluffing. “All right. I’ve got a feeling that I’m gonna regret this, but I’ll go with you!”

… but I knock the puck into my own net! The red light flashes behind the goal.

Mom and Sis both hugged me and they kissed my face between them. I sank back into the sofa as they let go of my hands.

“Thanks, Little Bro! This’ll be fun for all of us tonight.” Sis smiled at me and I knew that I’d be wearing the dress for the rest of the day. It wasn’t so bad, really. At least the garment itself was comfortable to wear even if I was not so comfortable with wearing it. Then my thoughts turned to what my buddy Bob would be going through. I’d only be wearing mine a few more hours and in my jeans the next morning. Bob would be “girled up” all summer.

“You two wait while I get ready to go out,” Mom told us and made her way up the stairs.

End of period. Intermission. I skate off the ice…

Michaela took her seat on the sofa next to me. “So, Ricky, what’s the story with Bob? Just why did Mom and me have to dress you up like a girl for his party?”

“Bob and his folks said it’s okay to tell you, since we live next door and you’d figure it out anyway. But still ya gotta swear to keep it secret.”

“I swear!” Sis confirmed holding up her right hand. She tightened her lips as her index finger traced a cross between her breasts.

“All right, Mikki. Bob and his parents think he might be transgendered.”

“What?”

“They think he’s transgendered.”

“Bob wants to be a girl?”

“Yes—well, no—I mean—it’s not that easy to explain. It’s, like, he thinks that he already is a girl, but his body’s wrong. Does that make sense?”

“I dunno. I’ve heard about it. We talked about it some in health class, but I don’t know anyone like that—well, not anyone else… So then, he’s really a she?”

“Maybe. They’re not sure. That’s what the birthday party was all about. He’s gonna dress up and live like a girl for the summer so he can see what it’s like. His Mom said it’s his doctor’s idea. So they wanted to have an all-girl birthday party and a sleepover for him. But he wanted me there, too. Then his Mom asked me if I’d be willing to dress up like a girl, too, so he didn’t have to do it all by himself. His sisters invited a few of their friends over for the party and to give us makeovers. But I was the only one of his own friends there. He didn’t want any of the other guys to know just yet.”

“Ricky! That was so sweet of you, to do that for your buddy! But he’s gotta dress like a girl all summer?”

“Yeah. And not just that—he’s supposed to live like a girl and learn how to do girl things, like makeup and walking, talking, and everything.”

“That sounds, like, so weird!”

“Maybe, but is it really any weirder than anything else that happens in life?”

My sister pondered that thought a moment. “No, I guess not,” she answered. Then suddenly, Mikki beamed a smile and exclaimed, “I know! He wants to be on the winning team!”

I rolled my eyes again and gently shook my head.

“C’mon, Bro! You can join, too!” she teased. “You’re even wearing the uniform already.”

Girls! How would I ever understand them? And even my best friend might turn into one. I was indeed in trouble.

“Seriously, Mikki,” I continued. “They’re not sure if he is or not. Bob’s still trying to find out for himself.”

“Well, how did this, like, even come up?”

“When they were at first planning his birthday party, Chelsea joked that he looked enough like a girl that he could have a sleepover like she had for hers. But then Laura said she knew Bob had been sneaking some of her clothes—some of his mom’s, too, I think. He was embarassed, but then later he admitted to his mom and dad that it was all true and that sometimes he feels better when he’s dressed up like a girl. He said there are times he thinks he was supposed to be a girl but that something went wrong.”

“So how do you feel dressed up like a girl?”

“Silly and stupid. And nervous. The whole time we were at the mall I was afraid someone was gonna know who I was or could tell I was a boy.”

“I doubt anyone recognized you. And Bro, for what it’s worth, not only do you look all girl, you look awesome! You really didn’t have to worry. Except maybe some guy might have tried, like, to hit on you!” Sis giggled.

“Oh, that’s all I would need!” I sighed in fear. “I don’t need a guy chasing me, too.”

“Why? Is someone else after you?” Mikki inquired, grinning wide-eyed in the hope of learning some secret about me.

“Bob’s little sister had way too much fun doing my makeover,” I recounted to my sister. “She seemed to spend more time and effort on my makeover than her brother’s. She hugged me and held my hand a lot, too.”

Mikki leaned closer to whispered in my ear. “Chelsea adores you, Ricky. You gotta, like, ask her out sometime.”

“Really?” I asked in waning disbelief. “How do you know?”

“I just, like, know,” confirmed Sis. “I’ve seen how she looks at you, Richard. Besides, it’s a girl thing. Girls just know.”

Michaela looked at me with very serious eyes. So she wasn’t kidding me. Then Chelsea did have a crush on me. That was why she worked so hard on my makeover. She wanted me to look pretty for her.

“Let’s get back to Bob,” Mikki reprised our original topic. “Are his folks, like, mad at ’im?”

“Not really. At least I don’t think so. They’re more worried than anything else. Chelsea and Laura seem pretty cool with it, though. They wanna think of ’im like another sister.”

“But how do you feel about it all?”

“Not sure. But I am worried about ’im. Bob and me are best friends after all, and I don’t want anything bad happening to him. And we don’t know what the other guys are gonna think about him either. I guess I worry about that, too.”

“Then are you, like, still gonna hang out together?”

“Dunno,” I confessed. “We want to, but I think he’s gotta start doing lots of girl stuff that I’m just not gonna be into. So I don’t even know if we can hang out. Not very much, anyway. Kind of a bummer, really.”

“So does he, like, hafta dress like a girl all the time?”

“Think so. He’s supposed to make a serious effort at living as a girl. I’m sure his Mom and sisters will help ’im out with that.”

“Have you thought about dressing up and hanging out with ’im as a girl? Just for the fun of it?”

“Don’t think so, Sis,” I dismissed the idea, shaking my head. “I mean, if he really needs me to, as stupid as it feels, I’d do it again, just like now. We’re buddies and I’ve still got his back. But just to hang out? No, that wouldn’t be right. This is Bob’s thing and it’s serious for ’im. It’s not for fun.”

Sis looked at me and smiled softly. “I understand,” she assured me. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t, like, be fun, even if it’s not for fun.”

“You’ll say anything to try to get me girled up again, won’t-cha?” I remarked. Mikki’s soft smile flexed into a more mischievous one.

“Only because I think my wonderful brother makes an even better sister! And I love what they did with your hair. It seems a shame for you not to keep it that way.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, but keep trying. I still like hearing it.” I grinned back to match her own wicked smile.

“Anyway, I think it was so sweet of you to get dressed up like that and stand by your friend.”

“We’re buds. It’s what we do.”

“Anytime you wanna girl up and hang out with me, I’m cool with it! I think my girlfriends would be, too.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on it, Sis.”

A few minutes later, Mom came downstairs wearing a long electric blue sweater, black tights, and these frightening high-heels. What? Four inches? I got dizzy just looking at them.

“Let’s get going,” she announced. “I don’t want anyone changing her mind!”

“Mom! I’m deeply hurt!” I protested, trying to project a sad look.

“Son, you just don’t know how to do puppy-dog eyes,” she sighed in jest. “You need to get your sister to show you.”

“Why, Mom?” objected Mikki. “If he’s not gonna girl up again, should we be, like, revealing secrets of the sisterhood?”

“Hmm?—You do have a point, Honey,” Mom conceded. “The next time he wears a dress, then. Ricky, that’s fair enough, isn’t it?”

“Whatever!” I replied.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady!” Mom ordered, once more tightening her lips to keep from laughing. She and Sis were now having altogether too much fun at my expense over this.

“Mom, I think you should make him dress up again another day for that,” my sister continued to prosecute her case. “I’ve got another dress I’d so love to see him wearing!”

“Sorry, Mom!” I apologized. Although I thought that they were just teasing, I did not want to risk passing yet another day en femme. “All this has been quite overwhelming for me.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetie,” Mom assured me. “We won’t make you dress up again if you can’t handle it.”

How manipulative! Subtly undermining my masculinity to tease me into girling up again? Now that was just wrong!

“Mom, don’t you and Sis understand the risks I’m taking by going out with you for dinner like this?”

Mom smiled at me as she reached around to hug me. “I’m so proud of you!” she said. “Yes, I do understand what you did to stand by your friend. And I know that you might get flak from the other boys for doing it. But you’ve shown me that you understand what’s really important. And even if you feel silly wearing a dress and wedgies, you’re a better man for it!”

Mom kissed me on the cheek and I could see tears welling up in her eyes. And for some unknown reason, I no longer felt quite so silly and awkward dressed like my sister.

“Try not to cry, Mom,” I told her. “You’ll smear your makeup.” But the real reason I said that to her was that I was having to hold back my own tears. Girlthink was infectious and I had been exposed to it in close quarters for two days running. And I was worried because I was beginning to feel good about it.

Boys were not supposed to be all “touchy-feely” but it seemed all right to me at the moment. Then Mikki joined Mom and me in our hug. All three of us were teary-eyed but it did not matter. Just then, Mom and Sis were treating me like another girl, their daughter and sister. But that was fine. Since I had pretended to be a girl for my friend‘s sake, getting a few perks as a result was only fair.

After the hug, Mom and Sis held my hands. Mikki spoke up. “I think my ‘new sister’ should get to pick the restaurant. How ’bout it, Mom?”

“I think that would be very appropriate,” Mom agreed. “So then where would my ‘new daughter’ like us to go for dinner?”

“Can we go to Luigi’s, then?” I asked Mom. “I like the ravioli di Crimini funghi there. And since it’s on the west side, there shouldn’t be anyone there who knows me.”

“That’s pricier than our usual evenings out,” Mom noted. “But after all, it’s certainly a special occasion. Would you two like a movie as well?”

“That’d be great, Mom!” Sis begged expectantly. “Ricky, would you be in the mood for a chick flick tonight?”

“Well, I s’pose I should stay in character,” I answered, although I’d much prefer to see science fiction or an action-adventure film. Besides, my mouth was already watering as I thought about the mushroom ravioli at Luigi’s. “And Mom, you did let me pick the restaurant. So I’m okay with you or Sis picking the movie.”

“Then we have a plan!” Mom announced. “Mikki, do you have a sweater to match your brother’s sundress? It will likely cool off before we get home.”

“I think so,” confirmed Sis as she opened the coat closet in the vestibule. She took out a pink sweater that looked like it would fit the color scheme that I wore. Then I noticed the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door.

Mikki draped the sweater around my shoulders as I watched in the mirror. I hadn’t actually studied my own image in a mirror after the makeover. Although I’d glimpsed it a few times, I’d refused—really, I’d been afraid—to see myself as a girl. But looking at myself now, I had to agree with Mom, my sister, and the girls at Bob’s party: I did make a pretty girl. I was pretty enough that I would want to date me.

Now I got really scared. Mikki was right. Dressed like this, I would attract boys. That I did not want. No, I would most definitely not be dressing up like this again just to hang out with Bob or my sister.

Then, Mom and Sis crowded into the view of the mirror. The three of us really looked liked a mother and her two daughters. My anxiety dropped again, as I saw that we belonged together as a family. I had never paid much attention to our facial resemblance as a family before. Sis and I had very much the same look to our faces as Mom’s. I had Mom’s eyes and hair. Mikki had Dad’s. But we all did look like a family.

Mikki seemed to know what was on my mind as she spoke. “Mom we’d better go before Ricky does get cold feet again.”

“We could get him pantyhose,” Mom remarked, giggling.

“No!” I objected. “I’m okay with what I’m wearing now.”

Sis and I joined Mom in giggling. Uh-oh! Was I really giggling? I had never giggled before. Boys laughed and chuckled, but we didn’t giggle.

All of this was getting just too weird.

So, many more hours in the penalty box? Oh well! It’s almost summer. Hockey season’s over until next time… Next time?… Oh no!