Teacup Roses, Guitars, a Bus Pass and a Mistaken Identity (A Danny Fairchild Story) by Bobbie Cabot This little interlude is set somewhere in the middle of the events of Chapter 8 of the still unfinished story, “Danny.” This does not materially contribute to that story, but is more like “a day in the life” type of story of the main character, Danny. This story can stand on its own somewhat, but it would be good to read Danny, unfinished though it is, to get a background on the story and characters (see http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14774/danny).

I slammed my locker closed after I put in my little backpack with my books and other stuff. I also put the little cardboard box covered in tissue and the elasticized ribbon that I bought at the dime store yesterday on the topmost shelf of the locker. I wasn’t angry or anything. In fact, it was turning out to be sort of a good day. It was just that I needed to slam my locker door so the lock will latch properly. Only my twin sister Danielle could open and close my locker without needing to jerk it open or slam it closed, but she was away today — some sort of field trip with her class, I think.

My locker and hers were side-by-side, and they were at the end of a long hallway, with lockers lining both walls. They were on the dead-end side of the hallway where there was a door at the end, but kids never used it and would walk all the way back down the hall to the rest of the school. I think it was a door to a little vestibule that had a little firedoor leading out of the building. But I wasn’t sure.

Anyway, I jogged back down the hall and rushed out to my car, which I had thoughtfully parked under the big elm in the open parking lot in front of the school this morning. I had put my little imitation electric Strat in the trunk, and to prevent heat damage and stop the strings from warping or breaking, I parked the car in the shade — didn’t have a choice, really, since I had nowhere else to put my stuff other than in my locker, and it didn’t have enough room for my guitar. Besides, I needed the locker space for that gift Mickey was going to get for me later. It was something I thought I’d give my sister’s best friend, Nikki, as a thank-you for being nice to me a couple of weeks ago at the Photography Club.

I had planned on giving her a teacup bouquet of little pink tea roses (it was like an arrangement of the little flowers in a pot the shape of a china cup), plus four pairs of Sanyo Eneloop batteries for her camera’s flash, and a couple NB2LH batteries for her Canon. Granted the gifts were nerdy as hell, but with the flowers, I think I’ll do okay. And if it was a bit of an overkill for a simple thank-you gift, well… I’ve been head over heels with Nikki since grade school, and this thing at the photography club gave me an excuse to make the gesture I’ve been wanting to do for a while, now.

Mickey’s supposed to get the bouquet and stuff for me — given he had the afternoon off today, same as his entire civics class — he offered to get it from the flower shop for me, and he was supposed to give it to me after class, or just drop it off in my locker.

Anyway, back to the story…

Despite my doctor’s letter to exempt me from PhysEd, the only way that the school would allow this was if I take some other school credits by participating in some sort of internship. Doctor Roberts considered my PE exemption necessary given my… ambiguous gender characteristics — I apparently had a lot of secondary female sex characteristics (the most notable of which are my larger-than-average b-cup, or smaller-than-average c-cup, breasts) and I would be the target of a lot of the kids, especially if they saw me in gym. However way I looked at them, they seemed enormous to me. Per my sister’s recommendation, I had taken to wearing sports bras to support them as well as mash them down a bit, up to the point where my tanktop and loose shirts would adequately camouflage them. And it’s been working well enough, so far.

I did take an extra-curricular internship, as required: I was supposed to be a production assistant-slash-intern at KRPQ Radio, but it had grown out of proportion after that almost-disaster with Lou Jefferson, one of the on-air announcers. Now, I am a semi-regular employee at the station, and one of their DJs. But that’s a long story all by itself, and maybe I’ll tell it later.

Thing is, a few weeks ago, some brown-nosing administrative assistant in the principal’s office found an antiquated school board ruling that said that any make-up credits to cover any student’s curricular deficiencies must be done through a school-administered program or class, and is to be done in-campus, just like a regular class.

My counselor gave me the unexpected bad news a couple of weeks ago, and she advised me to sign up for one of the clubs as a substitute. I had the radio thing now, but I couldn’t give it up anymore - it looked like I’ll have to take another class on top of that.

I looked through the list she gave and checked the ones that had available spots that I might, even remotely, like. There were three possibles — Glee Club, Photography and the school paper.

I checked out the school paper first, with ideas of getting those breaking news stories that got into the headlines. But after checking out their pathetic little operation and the teacher that managed the club, I quickly nixed that idea.

So I checked out the Photography Club next. The club had once-a-week meetings in the AV Room — the room with the projector just off the faculty room. The club required their members to bring their own cameras, so since I didn’t own one, I brought along a mint-condition, though pre-historic, cast-off Canon D30 which my uncle Nathan, who lived all the way in Canada, shipped to me (apparently, my mom emailed our relatives, including those that lived in Canada, Ireland and Italy, all about it). I was laughed out of the room because of my pathetic camera. Nikki, my twin sister’s friend, was apparently a member, too, and was at least sympathetic and didn’t join in on the laughing, and actually walked out with me, apologizing in behalf of the jerks. I didn’t say much, as I was dumbstruck that she would do this for me (As I mentioned, I had a serious crush on Nikki, but that is also another long story best told some other time.)

Later on, I learned from Nikki that the school’s camera club wasn’t anything but a venue for rich kids with camera fixations to show off their latest electronic acquisitions. Nikki would quit if there were any other camera club around that she could join. So - screw the camera club, right?

My last option was the Glee Club. Having seen the new TV show (Don’t tell the guys, but it has rapidly become my favorite show. Call it a guilty pleasure.), I didn’t really have high hopes for the club. Much to my surprise, it wasn’t that bad. True, most of the members were in the lower-bracket of the school’s social hierarchy (it was Glee Club, after all). But that wasn’t such a bad thing — truth be told, even with everything that has happened to me recently, I was still in the same place in the school’s pecking order as before, so I wasn’t much different from these guys. There were more girls than boys than I expected. Geek-girls to be sure, but with lots of potential, if they just cleaned up a bit.

So, I was there, application form in hand, as they stood on stage and went through a really… cruddy version of that classic by The Rolling Stones, “Satisfaction.” I thought the way they sang was off, but what did I know. Anyway, I listened to the group rehearse and kept my cringing-at-every-off-note down to a minimum, and waited to be noticed by the director.

As it happened, I had also brought my guitar then — I didn’t know what was involved when joining the glee club, and thought to be prepared. Anyway, after a couple of run-throughs, they quit. Thank god…

I made a mistake of not controlling my face too much because, after the kids finished the last note, the teacher in charge turned to me.

“All right, young man,” the teacher said, “you can stop snickering and tell us what you are doing here, interrupting us in the middle of our rehearsal.”

I blushed crimson. Taking out my application form, I mutely handed it to her.

The teacher snapped the folded paper open and read through it.

“Children,” she said, “apparently, this young man here is signing up for a spot in our little group. Now, we all know that we are in need of one more member for us to qualify to join the regionals, so, ummm,” she looked at my form, “Mr. Daniel Fairchild may be the answer to our prayers.” She looked me over. “Or is he?”

The kids all gave me hostile looks. Seems I got off on the wrong foot, and I felt a little bead of nervous sweat trickle down my back. It didn’t help that I was dressed down in beat-up jeans and my over-large shirt (I had recently taken to wearing loose shirts over my crew-neck to camouflage my still-growing breasts. Tell you about that another time), whereas most of these guys were in expensive, preppy casual wear.

“Mr. Fairchild,” the teacher continued on, “we do not require auditions, per se, as we are required to accept all applicants. But given we have been together for a few months already, and we know each other’s styles and strengths, we’d like to see what you are capable of.”

So… audition time again. I unlimbered my fake strat and climbed up the stage. The rest of the kids took seats except for one redheaded goth-type girl with her own electric guitar, festooned with stickers and labels from goth-rock bands and movies (the only sticker I recognized was from Siouxsie and the Banshees — a band from twenty years ago that I sometimes see featured on MTV). I smiled at her, and she raised one unimpressed eyebrow at me. Hmmm…

I looked at her guitar and traced the amp cable to a little amplifier at the back of the stage. I got one of the spare cables lying around and plugged in.

It was an easy song to play — just three chords: E, A and B7, over and over again. So I experimentally tried the chords, getting the level right. I stepped up to the mike stand and feedback squealed from the amp. The teacher cringed from the noise, and I quickly lowered the gain.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” I said into the mike. The teacher frowned. I wasn’t endearing myself to her any, I could tell.

Now that I got my guitar set up, I raised the gooseneck mike stand real high and bent it down and forward to me. With that setup, I could at least move around and still sing into the mike. I started playing the chords in a fast four-fourths beat.

“I can’t get no… satisfaction,” I crooned into the mike ala-Mick Jagger, and played E, A and B7 in hard and sharp staccato chops. “I can’t get no… satisfaction.” I spiraled the chords and my singing up. “I try, and I try, and I try, and I try…”

Then fast and hard. Dum-dum, dududum, dududududum.

“When I'm drivin' in my car, and that man comes on the radio. He's tellin' me more and more about some useless information! Supposed to fire my imagination! I can't get no! Oh, no no no…” Guitar chords again - Dududum, dududududum. “Hey, hey, hey! That's what I say!”

I stamped a four-fourth beat on the stage in lieu of drums, and started playing the chords again.

“Hey, goth girl!” I cried, and gestured to the girl with the guitar to join in with a nod of my head. She was grinning from ear to ear watching my antics. She sidled up to me and watched my hands to get the timing right.

“I can’t get no satisfaction!” we both played and sang in synch — great, a Mick Jagger and Siouxsie duet. “I can’t get no satisfaction! I try, and I try, and I try, and I try! I can't get no!”

We sang the next verse into the microphone, side by side. “When I'm watchin' my TV, and that man comes on to tell me how white my shirts can be, but he can't be a man 'coz he doesn't smoke the same cigarrettes as me! I can't get no! Oh, no no no…” Guitar chords in duet - Dududum, dududududum. “Hey, hey, hey! That's what I say!”

It went on like that until the end. And by that time, I got the rest of the group clappin’ and stompin’ the bejeesus out of the floor, especially during the drum parts.

“I can't get no, I can't get no!” I chopped the song there after a final E chord instead of letting it fade out like in the original. Good thing Goth Girl was following my lead, so we were able to end the song crisply and righteously

The rest of the glee club hooted and hollered, climbed up the stage, pounded me on the back and shook my hand. Goth girl gave me a hug, which surprised the heck out of me. Her face makeup, not that thick, actually, nevertheless left a little smudge of makeup on my cheek, but with my sweat, it wiped off real easily.

“Ahem!” the teacher said, clearing her throat. Everyone quieted down.

“Young man, where did you learn to do that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been playing the guitar for a while. I guess I just picked it up.”

“Well, however you learned what you did… and the stomping was a great touch.” She stuck her hand out, and I shook her hand. “Welcome to the Glee Club.” And there was a round of cheering.

“My name is Mrs. Sparks, and I run the club,” she said, and started a roll-call of the girls. “That’s Beatriz, Edna, Kalista, Ramona, Valentina, Phylicia, Eileen, and of course, you’ve met Fallon.” Goth girl leaned forward, giggled and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. The teacher raised an eyebrow at that, then gestured over to three guys leaning against the wall. “Those three over there are Gus, Frank and Rocko.”

They waved back. “Hey, dude,” the one called Rocko said. “Great pipes. Welcome.”

I grinned and nodded my thanks. One of the girls, Eileen, was looking at me funny. Still, I gave her a smile.

“So!” Mrs. Sparks said, “any pointers you could share with us about our performance?” She rubbed her hands together like a bank robber contemplating her next heist. I just had to laugh.

We proceeded to hop up their little routine, and made it tighter and more audience-friendly. With Mrs Sparks, and me & Goth-Girl, ummm, I mean Fallon, on our guitars, we were able to make a decent… no, that’s unfair: We were able to make it a great number. The hook to the whole number was the clapping and stomping, which originally was just my off-the-cuff improvisation to compensate for the fact that we didn’t have any band to help. That little number went into their meager repertoire of routines for use in competitions and such. Rocko (what a name, huh?) had the best rock-singer voice among the guys, with a voice like Chad Kroeger, so he ended up singing lead.

I had thoughtfully and deliberately excluded myself from any of the singing, and relegated myself to playing the guitar accompaniment. I mean, I had enough playing and singing with my band, it actually felt good to be second fiddle for once, a fact that got me brownie points with the members since I wasn’t some prima dona that wanted to hog the limelight.

I exchanged backslaps and handshakes with the guys, and the girls hugged me and bussed me on the cheek. It was a wonderful first day with the Glee Club, and I looked forward to the next meeting.

Which brings us to today.

I brought my guitar again, just to be safe. And as I hurried through the hallways, on my way to the music room, I noticed Tom Hennessy, the biggest bully in school walking in my direction. He had something in his hand, what looked like a bat or stick.

I doubled my pace. Chances are, the big tool’s got something in his head again, some excuse to pound on me. I guess whatever Betsy did to scare him off last Halloween has worn off, or whatever she had on him’s useless already.

“Hey!” Hennessy called. “Hey, faggot!” He had broadcasted to everyone that I must be some kind of homosexual since Halloween — it was his revenge, I guess given the costume I wore and the trick I played on him that day.

I slipped my guitar case’s strap on my back, which allowed me to start running. It was difficult to manage, with everyone between classes and walking around in the hallways. I had to dodge around people constantly.

“Dude!” the basketball team’s power forward yelled as I careened around him. I waved in apology and continued on my way.

Hennessy continued getting close, unstoppable and unrelenting. Instead of dodging around people, he just barreled through them. “Move it!” he yelled as he pushed some little guy away. The dude hit the floor hard, but Hennessy just skipped over him. I felt for the guy, as I often found myself in that same position. But I couldn’t stop and help.

I waved at Mel, Drew and Joanna, some friends of my sister, as they chatted with my best friend Morgan, but I didn’t stop to talk.

As I rounded a bend, I saw the door to the music room even as Hennessy turned the corner as well. I cannoned into the room, straight into Fallon’s arms.

Hennessy came in a few seconds after me but came up short when he was blocked by Mrs. Sparks.

“Young man, what is the meaning of this?”

“Move aside, lady,” Hennessy huffed.

“You have no reason to be here. I suggest you leave.”

He gestured at me, about to speak, but Mrs. Sparks interrupted him. “If you have business with Mr. Fairchild, I suggest you wait outside until we’re done.”

“But…”

“Out! Now!”

Hennessy left.

Mrs. Sparks closed he doors and turned to us. She clapped her hands. “All right, my young thespians. Settle down, and let’s get started.”

I gave Fallon a little hug of thanks and extricated myself from her arms.

One of the girls, Eileen, I think her name was, suggested a song, from the animated version of Tarzan. She even came with the music printed up.

“It’s not exactly a fast song, m’dear,” Mrs. Sparks said.

“No, it’s not, ma’am. But sung just right, it’ll be a great song. A showstopper, even.”

“Indeed?” Mrs. Sparks said, smiling. “Do tell, young songstress. Perhaps you would care to demonstrate?”

Eileen coughed. “Well… I’m not good enough. But I think Danny can demonstrate.”

Everyone looked to me. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. Now everyone will resent me. I looked around. But instead of hostile looks, all I saw were expectant faces.

Eileen came to me, bringing a couple of copies of the sheet music.

“I know your secret, Danny,” she whispered.

I closed my eyes. So this is it. I’ve been found out. I wondered which secret did she know. “I know about Unlimited Bandwidth,” she whispered. “And the others know, too. I told them.”

“What…”

“But we don’t care about that, Danny.”

I looked at her with big, unbelieving eyes. “I was the only one who was able to put two and two together,” she continued. After your singing last week, the voice and the guitar-playing — I could tell it was you in that band, too.”

She looked backwards and saw Mrs. Sparks coming over. “Let’s talk about it some more, later.”

She turned to Mrs. Sparks. “I was trying to point out which song I was suggesting,” she said to Mrs. Sparks. “I think Danny’s got it now.”

I followed her lead. “Yup, I think I know the song.”

“Well, good,” Mrs. Sparks said. “So - any ideas, Danny lad?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Go for it.”

I pointed to the chubby guy. “Gus, I think you’re gonna be our Phil Collins. And you, Eileen, and, ummm, Kalista,” I pointed to the thin girl with the straight blonde hair, “will be Gus’s second voices.”

I gestured for Fallon to come over and bring her guitar. “Can you read music, Red?” I said, and handed her the sheet music.

“Sure, ‘Red’” she said cockily, and giggled. “Doesn’t everyone?” I raised an amused eyebrow at that.

I had everyone else group together around me.

“Okay, I think we’re all set. And I think this is how we’re gonna do this…”

After an hour or more of practicing and tuning the number, Mrs. Sparks declared the song a success.

“Wonderful work, children,” Mrs. Sparks said. “A couple more run-throughs and I think we will be done for the day.” Her celphone took that moment to ring. Mrs. Sparks looked at the caller ID. “Excuse me, I think I’m wanted in the principal’s office. Danny have them run through another one.” She went out to the hallway.

When she was out of the room. Everyone crowded around me.

“So, Danny, Unlimited Bandwidth, huh?” Gus said.

“How’d you end up becoming their lead singer?” Kalista said.

I shrugged nervously. “It’s a long story.” I told them a little bit about how it all began, but kept the whole business about Batch Fourteen out of it, or of my changing physical condition. I also didn’t mention anything about my internship and my eventual hiring as a DJ - the Nighthawk.

What I did talk about - very little, though - was how everyone seemed to prefer me looking and singing like a girl, and how the band was gaining a kind of popularity I couldn’t understand.

“You’re telling me,” Rocko said. “I always thought that girl was real hot.”

“Oooooh!” everyone said. “Better watch out for Rocko, Danny!” Gus said, snickering.

Rocko laughed. “I was joking, guys!” I grinned in relief as well as a substantial bit of embarrassment.

Frank looked at the door. “Best to talk about this later, guys. Sparks might come back anytime.”

Eileen nodded. “Well, do you have anything after Glee Club?”

“No. But…” I remembered having to meet Mickey, and giving Nikki my gift. “I do have a little errand.”

“Okay,” Eileen said. “How about let’s meet at Archie’s at maybe five or six, to talk some more?” Kalista said, referring to the teenager-friendly restaurant at the mall.

“Might still be too full at that time,” he said.

“Let’s make it eight then?” She looked around. “Everyone okay with that?” It was a little late but apparently it was okay with the others.

Mrs. Sparks came back in. “So, young Master Fairchild,” she said. “How did everyone do?”

“Pretty good, Mrs. Sparks,” I said. “One more for our repertoire.”

“Excellent, excellent,” she said. “Now, time to go home.” She clapped her hands. “One of your assignments for next week, children, is to think up new routines and songs, all right? We are still short a couple of routines. Now, go! Chop chop!”

I got my guitar and other stuff together, and went with the rest to the door. I didn’t understand why these kids are taking my being part of the band so well. As if my dressing up as a girl, or being mistaken as a girl was no big deal. I didn’t have much time so I just went with it, and decided to worry about it later.

Since I was hurrying, I was leading everyone. But as soon as I was halfway through the door, I saw Hennessy lounging around outside. I ducked back in, bumping into the others. I didn’t think he saw me.

“Watch it, Danny,” Gus said, but then he saw my expression. “What’s wrong?”

Before I could respond, one of the girls, Phylicia was her name, I believe, took a peek out the hallway. “It’s that guy again — that big guy, Hennessy? He’s outside.”

“Oh,” Gus said in understanding.

Everyone looked through the door. I had to smile at their overprotectiveness.

“What do you want to do, Danny?” Fallon said. “That SOB is out there waiting. You can’t escape him.”

I shrugged.

“What’ll we do?” Eileen said.

I was pleased at that word — “we.”

“What about we surround Danny, escort him down the hall?” Valentina said.

“That might work,” Beatriz said. “But Hennessy might have some friends with him.”

“Then, it is best that you don’t go through, then.”

We looked behind us. “Mrs. Sparks?...”

“It’s all right, Daniel.” She pointed at one of the girls. “Edna, close and lock that door. Fallon?”

Goth-girl nodded.

“Open that window.” The teacher turned to me.

“Daniel, I suggest you go through the window. I cannot pretend to know what is going on, but I want to help. Give me your guitar. You can pick it up in the teacher’s lounge later. Fallon, help Danny.”

“But…”

“I’ll take care of your guitar as well. Fallon.”

I looked at goth-girl and nodded. She smiled, and gestured to the window. “Let’s go,” she said. She then suited words with action and proceeded to climb through.

I looked back at the guys and shrugged. “Thanks, Mrs. Sparks.” I waved and climbed through, myself.

I dropped down from the windowsill. I looked up to goth-girl.

“Where to, now?” she asked.

“I need to meet up with my friend Mickey, over at the lockers.”

She nodded. “Okay. Where?”

“My locker is at the end of the hall.”

She took my hand and pulled. “Let’s go, then.”

We walked back to the front of the school, and then turned left down to the lockers. When we got to my locker, I unlocked it and then jiggled it in that unique way and jerked it open. Nothing was in there. I wondered where Mickey was, but soon, we heard the flop-flop of Mickey’s sneakers.

“Hey, Mickey,” I said in relief.

“Dude,” he said. “Here you go.” He handed me a plastic bag with the batteries, and a box the size and shape of a small shoebox, upended on its short side. I opened it. Nestled in a bunch of shredded tissue was an arrangement of pink tea roses and several other flowers in a slightly-large teacup, actually a flowerpot. I showed the teacup arrangement to Fallon (I should learn to call her by her name, and not “goth-girl”).

“Beautiful,” she said. “who’s it for?”

“A friend.”

“Ooooh!” she said. “A ‘friend!’” She giggled.

“Oh knock it off!”

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

“So, Danny,” Mickey said, “who’s the goth-girl?”

“My name’s Fallon, you dweeb,” Fallon sneered.

Mickey put on his standard lady-killer look. I rolled my eyes at that.

“So,” he said, “what’s a girl like you…”

“Oh, shut up!” Fallon said.

“What’d I say!”

“Hey, Mickey,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Thanks for getting the stuff for me. How much do I owe you?”

Mickey handed me a couple of receipts. I looked at them and handed over several bills. I didn’t bother asking for change. Just as well, since he just put the money in his pocket, never bothering to check how much I gave him.

Fallon wasn’t too happy that Mickey was there making eyes at her, so she said goodbye. “Archie’s at eight?”

“Yup. Archie’s at eight. See you.”

“And good luck with your ‘friend.’” She giggled.

I smiled embarrassedly, and waved as she went back down the hall.

Mickey waved goodbye, grinned and wagged his eyebrow. “Seeya, dude.” He then went after Fallon, and I laughed.

I turned back to my locker and took down the tissue-covered box and the ribbon I put in there earlier. I put the camera and Eneloop batteries in the small box and snapped the elasticized ribbon around the larger, shoe-box-sized flower box. I experimentally shook the flower box a little, and the shredded tissue kept the flowers from being jostled too much. I got out my backpack. I took out all the books and stuff inside but it was too small for the box the flowers came in. I cursed and jammed my backpack into my locker and slammed the door closed.

I looked around, trying to think of another way to easily carry the stuff. In desperation, I decided to try Danielle’s locker (yup, my name was Daniel — Dan or Danny for short — and my twin sister’s name was Danielle. Long story, tell you some other time).

I set the combination and opened her locker door. Her sachet wafted up, the smell of vanilla and Chanel - something that always reminded me of her. I saw her backpack, a pink and white affair with little flower appliqués all over it. I mean how girlie can you get. But when I laid the box beside the bag, it seemed to be the right size. “Got no choice. Sorry, Danielle,” I said to my missing sister. I put the boxes in the locker and took out the pack. I looked inside. While rummaging through the pack, I took out my cel and called mom.

“Mom?” I said, as I looked through the backpack. “I won’t be home from dinner. Hope that’s okay?” I listened a bit. “The guys from Glee Club invited me to Archie’s at eight.” I nodded at what mom said. “Yes, you heard right — Glee Club.” She said something again. “No, they’re not like the kids from the show, and no, our teacher’s a chubby, sixty-year-old grandmother-type, not some cute guy.” I laughed. “Okay, thanks mom. See you later.”

I shut my phone off and turned back to the contents of her backpack. Seems Danielle stashed a complete change of clothes in it, complete with underwear and shoes. Sorry, Danielle. I’m gonna need your pack. I flipped open my phone and texted her a long message, explaining why I needed to borrow her bag. After a few moments, she texted back her okay.

I was about to take out her stuff when Fallon came running.

“Danny!” she said breathlessly. “Tom Hennessy’s out there looking for you!”

Before I could react, Mickey came running, too. He skidded right in front of my locker, and almost bowled Fallon over.

“Danny!” he said. “Tom Hennessy’s out there scopin’ for ya!”

Fallon pushed him away. “He knows already, shithead!”

I looked down the still-deserted hall and didn’t see anyone.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Sure, I’m sure!” Mickey said.

“Does he have his buds with him?”

“No. Which is strange, actually.”

My mind raced a mile a minute, trying to think up something. I looked at the unused door at the end of the hall. I twisted the knob and it opened into a dusty little four-by-four vestibule. Opposite the door was another door, a metal fire door. I pushed down on the fire door’s lock but it wouldn’t budge. “Damn!”

I stepped back into the hall and looked at my two friends. “Okay,” I said. “Neither of you needs this grief. Go.”

“Danny!” “Dude!”

“Go!” I said. “I’ll figure something out. Fallon, I’ll meet you and the guys at Archie’s at eight, okay?”

“Dan!”

“I’ll be all right, Mickey. But right now, you better boogie on out of here. ‘Kay?”

We clasped each other’s arm in our little gang’s private handshake, and he started running back down the hall.

“Cool it, okay?” I said. “Don’t get him suspicious. Don’t run.”

Mickey stopped short. He nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. He put his hands in his pockets and walked nonchalantly down the hall, whistling.

Fallon and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Go on, goth-girl,” I said, and smiled at her. “See you later.”

Fallon went to me and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. She waved before walking away.

Now that I got everyone safe, I could try and save my butt now. I had no ideas. God, what do I do!

I looked at the backpack in my hand, and got an idea. Not the best, but it’s all I could come up with.

I felt around in the side pocket and felt a plastic case. It was a little make-up kit and a wallet. I guess I’m all set. I took a deep breath and went into the vestibule. I took off my shirt and white sports bra, replacing it with Danielle’s tight, red, form-fitting long-sleeved bouclé sweater and her sexy, strapless demi bra.

I pulled off my socks, sneakers, underwear and jeans, and, while being careful of the dust, I put on Danielle’s dainty panties, dark-brown leggings. (I thoughtfully tucked my dick in between my legs before putting on the panties and leggings), and her really expensive Shearling lace-up booties that Dad bought her. I looked down and saw a small telltale bump. I pulled her panties up a bit more and nothing showed that could give me away anymore. Damn. Wish Danielle had pants or at least a skirt instead of leggings…

I stepped out of the vestibule, my guy clothes bundled up into a ball. I put them at the bottom of Danielle’s locker. I put the two boxes into the pink-and-white backpack, and my wallet, comb, keys and the other junk from my pants in the left-side pocket. I took out Danielle’s wallet from the other pocket. It had her library card, buss pass, and about fifty dollars in ones and fives. I put it back and took out the little make-up kit and started touching up my face the way Danielle taught me. I took the little atomizer and spritzed myself with Danielle’s Chanel perfume. I had just taken our my low guy's ponytail and started combing out my hair as a final touch, fluffing it out the way I saw Danielle do it, when I saw Hennessy’s face in Danielle’s mirror behind my own reflection. “Hey, babe,” Hennessy said to me. I whirled and faced him. He was still carrying the white stick. Baseball bat? Hockey stick? “Tom!” I said. “You scared me.” I went into Danielle mode, and crossed my arms under my breasts, in feigned irritation, trying to cover up the fear. “What do you want?” “Sorry, Danielle,” he said. “I’m lookin’ for your faggot brother. You seen him?” I secretly breathed a little sigh of relief — he didn’t recognize me. I projected Danielle in my mind. “My brother is NOT gay!” I said. “And, besides, after what you tried to do last Halloween, what makes you think I’m gonna tell you even if I knew?” Hennessy shrugged. I harrumphed, closed Danielle’s locker and shouldered the pink-and-white backpack. I walked casually down the hall, or at least tried to. I felt my back prickling, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I got about thirty or forty feet, Hennessy said, “Wait!” I looked back to him. He looked at me. “Danny?”

I broke into a dead run.

“Danny? Hey, Danny! Wait!” Hennessy pounded after me. I would have assumed I would find it difficult to balance in the high-heeled booties, but surprisingly, I was coping.

The clack-clack of the boots was loud in the hall, so when I escaped into the rest of the school, I skidded to a stop and started walking in a more normal pace. I zigged and zagged a bit, went up the second level, went back down via the middle stairs, keeping to the high-traffic area, and I effectively lost Hennessy. I looked around, looking for a friendly face but I didn’t see anyone I knew. I walked calmly to the front gate, casually looking around.

Several people who knew Danielle saw me and waved. “Hi, Danielle,” most of them called out. I waved back in what I hoped was a friendly way. I didn’t know most of them, and was again reminded of how popular Danielle was. Some of the girls came over to chat. One of the cheerleaders (I couldn’t recall her name) waved. “Hello, Danielle,” she said. “Lookin’ sexy as always.” “You’re not looking bad yourself,” I said. And indeed, the blue-and-yellow school cheerleader uniform really did make her sexy. I tried not to be inappropriate with my lingering look so I quickly tore my stare away. Other cheerleaders crowded around us. “Danielle, when are you gonna join the squad?” a second cheerleader, the one with the biggest bust among them said. “There’s room for one more, you know.” The others murmured their agreement. “Thank you girls, but I don’t think I have what it takes to be one of you.” (Like being a stuck-up snob. But, of course, I didn’t say that out loud.) The girls took it as a compliment, giggled and preened. I saw Fallon walk by. She saw me looking at her but she looked away. She probably thought I really was Danielle, and was used to looks from girls like her. I felt bad about that, and I wanted to follow, but it would look weird if Danielle broke away from these girls, so I stayed.

“I think you’re wrong,” the first girl was saying. “I think we can whip you into shape real quick.”

“And besides, you’re one of the most popular girls in school and totally gorgeous,” said the second girl.

“Well, let me think about it, okay?”

“Okay, but not too long,” the first one said. “Lots of girls are eyeing the spot. But if you let us know before the open tryouts next week, your spot is guaranteed.”

“Thanks so much!” I gushed. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can.” I waved and continued on my way. There was more to life than cheering and being popular. These girls need to get a clue. But then again, what did I know?

As I was walking, a couple of jerks came over and tried to put the moves on me (I guess the outfit was a little too sexy for my own good), so I did a patented Danielle move — while the creep was putting his arm around my shoulders and one of his hands on one of my breasts, I stomped on the foot of the jerk with Danielle’s high-heeled boot. Not strong enough to break anything but strong enough to hurt like hell. At least I think I didn’t break anything.

The guy dropped to his knees and howled in pain, and his friend held him by the shoulders.

“Have a nice day,” I said in Danielle’s voice, and walked on.

I saw Fallon walking towards the front gate, too. “Fallon!” I cried and sashayed over, practicing the walk that Danielle taught me.

She had stopped when she heard me call her name.

“How you been, girl?” I said in false joviality as soon as I got within earshot.

Fallon looked puzzled as I looped my arm through hers. “you know me?” she said in disbelief.

“It’s me,” I whispered into her ear.

She looked at me again, and after a few moments, recognition set in. “Danny!” she whispered back. “It’s you!”

“In the flesh, girlfriend,” I said in more normal tones — Danielle-tones, that is.

“You look great!” she grinned. “Do you have any clue who you look like?”

“I’m supposed to be Danielle, my twin sister.” I gestured at my outfit. “I got these clothes from her locker. Hennessy saw me at the lockers, but didn’t recognize me at first so I got away. But after a bit, he saw through the disguise and I ran for it.”

I leaned over. “Do you think I look okay? I mean, Hennessy saw through my disguise in a second.”

“Are you kidding? You’re an absolute babe! In fact, I wouldn’t mind going somewhere with you and… you know…” She waggled her eyebrows at me and giggled.

I froze. “You’re telling me you’re a…”

Fallon giggled. “Sure. Everyone knows that.”

I started to get nervous and got hyper-aware of my arm wrapped around hers. Fallon felt it and gave my arm a friendly squeeze.

“Don’t worry, Danny. Boys aren’t my thing.”

I felt a little bit of relief, but was still a bit nervous.

I looked around. “Hope we lost Hennessy. I wouldn’t want him to find me.”

“What’s he got against you, anyway?”

“Long story. Tell you later, maybe. Right now, I gotta get out of the school.”

Fallon nodded and grinned again. “Okay, then. So, let’s get you out of here.”

We then walked out of the school, with the entire school body looking at us incredulously. It was probably the first time they saw a school hottie and a goth walk arm-in-arm out of the school grounds laughing and giggling. I told Fallon I was going to my friend Nikki’s place to give her the flowers and stuff, and she offered to accompany me. So we stood at the bus stop. Surprisingly, it was just us. “Do you have a bus pass?” she asked, but after I gave her a look, she nodded. “Oh, right.”

I then snapped my fingers. I rooted around in the backpack’s side pocket and came out with my sister’s wallet. I took out Danielle’s bus pass and showed it to Fallon.

“Wow, you really do look like your sister,” she commented and handed it back.

“Here’s the bus,” I said. We showed “our” bus passes, dropped coins in the box and looked for seats. “There’s a couple o’ seats somewhere in the middle, pretty girl,” the bus driver said. I did a small double-take, but the guy seemed harmless and was sincere in his little compliment, so gave him a smile. “Thank you,” I said.

We walked down the aisle and found an empty bench. I gestured and Fallon slid in and sat near the window, while I sat on the seat by the aisle. I looked around and apparently we took the last seats. As the bus pulled out, I looked back and saw Hennessy at the bus station. He looked at me, and then at the posted map that showed the bus route.

I tugged on Fallon’s sleeve. “Goth-girl…”

“Stop calling me that!” she whispered, giggling.

“Okay, okay.” I said soothingly. “But Hennessy’s there at the bus stop!” I pointed a thumb back at the bus station.

“Then he saw us get on!” She thought a bit. “Ohmigod! He can figure out the bus schedule! He’ll figure out where we’re going!”

“Nikki’s house and mine are a bit far away from the main road, so I doubt if he will know how to get there. Still…”

“Yeah?”

“How about we get down at the mall? Spend maybe an hour there? We’ll throw him off the scent that way, I’m sure.”

“You wanna go to the mall?”

“What’s so strange about that?”

She pointedly looked me up and down in my outfit. “You’re sure you’re really not a girl?”

“Oh, shut up!”

She giggled.

We had a fun time talking about all sorts of things, but mostly music, and it was surprising that she knew so much about pop bands and top-forty music. Looking at her, I thought I could only expect goth-rock. After maybe fifteen minutes, we got off at the bus station near the mall entrance and went in.

We decided to window-shop and to look through a couple of the stores. Inevitably, one of the stores we went to was a store selling goth-type clothes and accessories and, despite my misgivings, I did find the place interesting. I was able to buy a sleek little pen with a silver barrel and a black clip for myself and a little stainless-steel crucifix on a silver chain with matching silver earrings and a silver tennis bracelet for Danielle.

Through our little excursion, we got to know each other better. I was clueless about people like her (and it sounds so snooty to say that), and I got to see things from her side. As an outcast all my life, I knew what she felt. In a way, we had this in common and we bonded. She wasn’t shy about saying what she wanted, and she let on that if I was a real girl, she’d totally go for me. But she said I was totally safe. I tried to believe her but the looks she kept throwing my way when she thought I wasn’t looking weren’t assuring me too much.

I looked at her as she giggled at one of my jokes while she sat on the couch in this shoe store we were in. She was trying on a pair of black velour boots that went well with her all-black ensemble, and I was thinking she was actually very pretty and, goth girl or not, a pretty girl who was clearly into you makes a guy react. She decided to buy the boots and walked back to the counter in a very slinky way. And if this doesn’t stop soon, my so-far-perfect disguise, especially the skin-hugging leggings, wouldn’t be so perfect anymore… if you know what I mean… Despite this, we had a fun time. She clearly thought I was wearing falsies — a notion I didn’t dissuade her from. She had to stop herself several times from telling me to try on some of the clothes that we looked at. I had no such compunctions at all about her so I encouraged her to try on some of the outfits we saw.

One of them was this combination of a sort-of wrap-around denim skirt with big buttons, and a halter top that was designed to look like the top part of a pair of jeans, with what looked like the rear pockets of the jeans strategically placed where her breasts were. I’m afraid I’m describing it real badly, but the outfit really made her look real hot. She also freshened up her eye makeup and replaced her purple lipstick with a bright-red one. Her new black velour boots went real well with it. I must have gaped at her because she giggled at me. “You like?” she asked comically and struck a pose, and I just nodded dumbly. “Then I’m buying it.” She went to the counter and paid, and kept the outfit on. After a while of me just walking silently beside her, she said, “what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” I just shrugged my shoulders spastically. She giggled at that and looped her arm through mine. “Wanna make out?” she whispered in my ear.

I looked at her in shock.

“Kidding! Kidding!” she said and giggled, kissing me on the cheek in apology.

I saw a little 50’s-style parfait shop. “How about some ice cream,” I said, trying to escape her very frank behavior. I was starting to worry again. I thought she liked girls...

So we went in and told the soda jerk (I had to explain the term to Fallon, using Pop Tate from The Archie’s comic as my reference) that we wanted two chocolate sundaes in tall parfait glasses, and sat at the counter as the guy scooped out the necessary ice cream.

In a short while, we were confronted with two tall parfait glasses with alternating scoops of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream, smothered in chocolate syrup and topped off with a generous dollop of whipped cream and a cherry with a stem. On the side were crispy wafer cookies and two tall glasses of water. Soon we were digging in, but I think I was a little too enthusiastic as I had to stop for a second because of brain freeze. Fallon laughed as I drank the water to thaw out. “So that’s what the water’s for,” she said. I nodded, still unable to speak. When my head wasn’t hurting anymore, I took a bite of the wafer cookie, and looked at Fallon.

She was looking at me in delight, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how cute she was. She was very pale, which went well with her red hair. And the bright red lipstick really set off her face.

As we slurped our desserts, I noticed the silence and that a lot of people in the parlor were looking at us. I tried to think of how we looked to everyone else, and it’s no wonder people were staring. Two cute giggling redheads eating ice cream at the counter probably for the first time would naturally attract attention. Sure enough, a couple of guys started making their way to us. They sat down on either side of us and started chatting us up.

“Buzz off,” Fallon said in no uncertain terms. When they didn’t move, Fallon got off her stool. “Buzz off,” she said again. “Now!”

The two quickly left and made a beeline for the door.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing, but as we got ourselves back under control, we saw Hennessy through the large picture window walking around outside. We both ducked down simultaneously.

“He’s tracked us down!” Fallon exclaimed. “We gotta get out of here.”

We got down off our stools and creeped towards the window. We looked out and saw Hennessy walking away. She gestured at our stuff. “Get our things,” she said.

I creeped back and got the two shopping bags of stuff she bought, and my borrowed backpack. When I got back to her side, I handed her her stuff. She took my hand and we moved out the door.

Hennessy was slowly walking away, looking through store windows. We briskly walked in the other direction. As we rounded a corner, we breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey! Danny!”

“Run!” I cried. I put my arms through the backpack’s straps, grabbed one of Fallon’s shopping bags and ran.

Fallon ran with me. We spotted the escalator and sprinted down to the ground floor. One of the mall security guards blew a whistle.

I got a bright idea. I went to the security guard. “Sir, that guy up there’s chasing us. We don’t know why, but he’s been following us around the whole afternoon.”

The guard looked. Hennessy just got off the escalator and was about to renew the chase when the guard blew his whistle again and started for him. Hennessy stopped in his tracks. After a split second, he ran back to the escalator and sprinted back up with a couple of mall guards in hot pursuit.

We slipped out the mall and, when we were out in the parking lot, we breathed a sigh of relief. We were giggling in nervous relief and went to the bus stop. “What do you think?” I said.

“Well,” Fallon said, “I guess that Hennessy guy isn’t as dumb as he looks.”

“He’s going to be in the mall for a while, I guess.” We giggled. “So, I guess it’s safe to go to Nikki’s now. You game?”

“Let’s go.”

We got on the bus and got off the nearest bus station to Nikki’s, which was just a couple of minutes’ walk to her house. As we got near, I found Danielle and her friends pull up in her friend Joanne’s van.

“Danny!” I heard Danielle call out.

Danielle got down and looked at me, mouth agape. “You got to be kidding. Wow!”

“Danielle! I thought you were out on a field trip.”

“We just got back. Mickey told us what was happening and we rushed over.”

She gave me a hug. “Wow, Danny! You look real sexy in my clothes.”

I belatedly saw everyone else gaping at me likewise.

“Ahem,” I said in embarrassment and extricated myself from Danielle’s arms. “Girls, I’d like you to meet my new friend, Fallon.” And then I introduced Joanne and Mel, and last of all, Danielle.

“Fallon, this is my sister Danielle, in the flesh — the girl who owns the clothes I’m wearing.”

“So,” Fallon said. “You guys are twins.”

“Yup,” I said. “Fraternal twins…”

“Ummm…”

Danielle went and shook her hand. “Yes, Danny’s my twin brother.”

Fallon repeated her non sequitur: “Ummm…”

Danielle giggled. “Not to worry — Danny doesn’t go around dressed like a girl all the time. Just when he’s trying to escape from someone.” She giggled again.

We walked up to Nikki’s porch, and Danielle asked what happened. Fallon filled the girls in while I got my two boxes out. I pressed the doorbell and waited, fidgeting nervously.

The others grew quiet and waited for Nikki.

After a bit, Nikki opened the door and looked at me. “Hey, Danielle. Back from your field trip.”

“Yup,” Danielle responded from over my shoulder. “Hey, Nick.”

Nikki looked back and forth at the two of us. “Danny, is that you?”

“Ummm, yes…”

Nikki giggled. “Halloween part two? There must be a long story behind this. You guys come in and tell me all about it.”

“Ummm, first things first,” I said. I handed her my two packages.

“What’s this?”

“Just a little gift. To say thanks for what you did last week.”

She looked puzzled.

“The camera club? Remember?”

Nikki smiled. “Thank you,” she said. She opened the smaller box and took out the batteries. “Hey, cool. I can use these.”

She then opened the other box and brought out the teacup rose arrangement. Everyone went, “Ooooh!”

She looked at it for a moment, and then smiled at me. She put her arms around me and hugged me.

We all went in and had a little snack. I wasn’t too comfortable. Girl-chitchat wasn’t something I was used to. Nikki sat beside me, which pleased me, but got me blushing.

Everyone was talking about my outfit, but Nikki seemed to like it. So Fallon went over the story, with me filling in some of the blank spots.

As we went out later, I was thinking that the day wasn’t a total washout. I guess it was just another typical Danny day. Fallon and I invited everyone to Archie’s and we hung around Nikki’s porch while she got ready.

While we were there, we saw Tom Hennessy walking down the street.

“Fallon, it’s him!”

Danielle and the others looked and saw the guy walking towards us.

The guy’s persistent, I have to give him that. But I guess I have to face him sometime. Otherwise, this will go on until I do.

I walked down to the street and stood in front of Nikki’s driveway.

“Danny,” Danielle called. “What are you doing!”

I waved her back. “It’ll be okay, Danielle.”

I stood in the middle of the street, hands on hips. I felt like one of those cowboys in one of the old westerns, just about to do an old-fashioned shoot-out. But the leggings and the girlie sweater just didn’t make it. I giggled silently to myself.

Hennessy walked slowly towards me, and stopped about twenty feet away.

We looked at each other silently, like we were waiting for someone to make the next move. The other girls stayed by Nikki’s door, waiting for something to happen, I guess. The only things missing were the tumbleweeds and the odd cactus.

“So…” I said. “What now, Tom?”

“Hey, Danny,” he said.

“Why have you been following me?”

“I just…”

“Yeah?”

“I just…”

“What!”

He quickly walked up to me and raised the white stick he’d been holding. I cringed and waited for the pain.

“Here,” he said.

I opened my eyes slowly, and I saw him holding out the stick.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he said.

I looked and it wasn’t a stick. It was a paper-wrapped long-stemmed rose. I looked back up at Tom. He must be cracked. “I just wanted to say sorry for Halloween.” I reached over and took the rose. “Ummm… well, thank you, I guess…”

He was looking down. “And I also wanted to say,” Tom said shyly.

“Yeah?”

“That I like you… A lot. Well, see ya.”

He turned and started walking back the way he came.

“Danny?” He stopped and half-turned.

“Huh?”

“You look pretty in that outfit.”

I looked at him as if he was crazy.

“Well, okay… Thanks…”

And then he walked away.

Like I said — just another interesting Danny day.
 

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Author’s Postscript: I originally wrote this little story for the November 2009 Story Challenge but didn't make the deadline because of some family and work concerns. But I decided to still post it, and wrapped up the story during the holidays, and here it is. It's not the best, but I hope you like it nevertheless. And never fear, my Danny story will be continuing and I'll post some new installments as soon as possible. As always, comments are welcome. And Merry Day-After-Christmas to everyone!