Bobby

That Thanksgiving was scary and mortifying. Not to mention the horror it all led to.

“Robert Taylor Smith! Where do you think you are going like that?”

The most scary part really came early, already at Halloween. As every teenager knows, hearing your full name expressed in a severe voice by one of one’s parents is not a good sign. Especially when expressed by a father reading with his back towards you.

Add to that I was trying to sneak out dressed in my sister’s cheerleader uniform …. Yes, I had forgotten about the mirror on the wall. Mirror, mirror on the wall tell me who is the kid most in trouble.

The ensuing conversation was not pleasant. Yes, the girly sneakers were my own. My feet are too big for my sisters’. An expense I was not too happy about. No, I had not got my sister’s permission to wear her cheerleader uniform. I had not asked her. Asking her would have been counterproductive.

My sister and I don’t have a strained relationship. We can’t really say that we have a relationship at all. At least that’s what my sister wishes and who am I to question that? My big sister (all of 15 minutes older) was a social climber in high school. I was not. Mary did not acknowledge any connection with me in school. I was only too happy to oblige. I was happy among my many friends in the chess and French clubs and similar activities. Most people didn’t realize this but there was a complete other social layer in school, mostly peopled by what the popular would call nerds. A very big social strata and not without overlap from the “usual” high school elite. Strangely no one was really aware of the sheer size of us.

Mary on the other hand desperately wanted to become one of the popular “in” girls. She was moderately successful. Cheerleader, active on some student committees and so on. She was helped by the fabulous torso (bulging and nipping at all the right place) and arms she had inherited from our beauty queen mother. Too bad her legs and face had more in common with our high school football star father. Sturdy and roughhewn is a good description. Years of ballet had not given her more attractive legs. I had my father’s torso and arms, even if I never had bothered to develop the strength he had. Fortunately, Dad was ok with that. Unfortunately, I had inherited Mom’s legs and face. Most embarrassing.

There I was in my sister’s cheerleader uniform and her stuffed bra. Not a good thing. Not at all. My father was scathing. Not only about the unauthorized “loan” but also about my make-up. Pitiful! I soon was disrobed and placed in a chair. Every trace of make-up removed. I was however provided with new lingerie. My mother’s. A boy going to a dance not only in lingerier but his mother’s at that. Was there no end of my torment ?Absolutely not! Also a pair of professional lifelike breast forms were carefully inserted by my loving mother. I’d only had a choice between B and DD. I went for the sensible option so my wardrobe mistress Mom had to apply her skills to make her bra fit me. As for the make-up Dad is the professional. He is used to work fast at the theatre. Good thing since my friends were waiting for me. I was somehow shoe-horned into Mom’s old cheerleader uniform. What were they thinking back then! The skirt was uncomfortably shorter than on my sister’s uniform. No use complaining though. I was shoved out of the door and into Peter’s car. Off we drove. Four obvious boys in cheerleading uniforms, and one less obvious one, off to team up with their girlfriends. Girlfriends dressed like football players for the fancy dress dance in school.

The problem was that there were only four of them waiting for us when we got there. Paula, my girlfriend, wasn’t there. Did I say girlfriend? I was wrong. She was my ex-girlfriend. Soon after us she arrived dressed like a ballerina with her real-life dancing partner dress as ballet prince. I understand her attraction for him. He’s a great dancer. I’m not. It’s not like I have two left feet. It’s more like three left feet. But the sheer evil of her glee watching me, hurt a bit. Who am I kidding? It hurt a lot. People had warned me. I always team up with bitches for some reason and then they delight in dropping me in the most hurtful way imaginable. Why don’t I ever learn?

My friends went away while I covered in a corner. However, my humiliation was not over. The girls’ coach noticed me and came over. The strict disciplinarian that had known me by name already on my third day in school when I made a minor infraction of the school rules.

“Laura? I didn’t know that you were going to chaperone the dance. And how do you do it. You still look just like when we were in high school.”

Was there no end to my humiliation? Now I was mistaken for my mother! After a rather confused explanation Coach walked away but not before inviting me to try out for the cheerleading squad. With legs like that … No, there was definitely no end to my humiliation.

Gus
I cringed when I saw what Paula did to poor Bobby. Had I really been the stereotypical football star I wouldn’t even have known he even existed. That’s not me. Besides, if you are into student politics you learn to know most people and what makes them tick. And Bobby was an interesting case. A really nice kid that most people liked and then he wound up with girls that used him and his kindness mercilessly and then delighted in humiliating him. It had happened over and over. Perhaps I shouldn’t condemn him. I never managed to keep a girlfriend for long either. But usually we parted amicably after I had slowly drifted away (again). I had gained a reputation for being an inattentive boyfriend too much caught up in other things. That’s why I had no partner with me that night.

Actually, that turned out to be a good thing as I decided to help Bobby out. Besides he was really cute in that rather revealing old cheerleader uniform that showed off some amazing legs. Despite his protests I got him to dance with me. I was pleasantly surprised that he was over medium height for boys his age. I’m REALLY big so most girls are too short for me. He was not a good dancer but more from inexperience than innate inability. At least he didn’t have to unlearn how to lead instead of following. We didn’t dance that much but we spent the rest of the evening together. He was fun to be with. Very smart but not in an intimidating way. It was amazing how much we had in common and how interesting everything Bobby said was. Not insipid at all like I was used to.

In all, I had a much better evening than I had feared. I also enjoyed the way Paula was visibly irritated by the attention I gave Bobby. People most certainly noticed us. Served her right! Besides, while perhaps not THE most beautiful kid at the dance Bobby was really cute, if one ignored the lack of curves. Someone had done a great job with his make-up.

I drove Bobby home. I had kept him to the end of the dance while his friends had left earlier. To their credit they had made me promise to get him home safe and sound and before midnight. Nice kids!

Driving Bobby home I was struck by an idea. My parents and I had an ongoing thing. Not exactly a fight but we did challenge each other. I mean who calls their son Gustavus Adolphus after a warmongering 17th century king when you are country club liberals? It took me years to understand why they did that. Understanding is not always forgiving. So, I got the idea that I should challenge their liberal façade. A bit like “Guess Who's Coming to Dinner”. So I stopped and called them. I told them that I had found this very cutest of boys in a cheerleading uniform that revealed absolutely amazing legs and then I asked them if I could invite him to come with us when we went to the cabin for Thanksgiving. That’d teach them. I had made a mistake, a very bad mistake. They were enthusiastic! They just wanted to make sure Bobby’s parents were fine with it. I had a bit of a problem during the call to make sure Bobby didn’t interrupt. You could almost think he wasn’t as keen on the idea as my parents!

Any hope of reprieve was almost immediately dashed when I met the parents. Apparently, they are as crazy as my parents. They were delighted that Bobby was prepared to step outside the box. They didn’t listen to his protests at that. Apparently high school is the time to experience new things, to experiment, to make all the mistakes early and not later in life. Yeah, now I was apparently a “mistake”. I was probably reading to much into their words though. The bottom line, after a long conference call with my parents, was that Bobby was to come with us to the cabin for Thanksgiving. However, not only that but we should get better acquainted before that. Better acquainted as in dating! Talk about my great idea backfiring.

Bobby
I was seething. Gus had managed to drag us both into deep shit with his stupid idea to challenge his parents. Now we were done for. Neither set of parents were prepared to give us an out. Perhaps things were not as bad as I feared for a while but they were bad enough. There was no requirement that we’d have to “come out” in school. Dating was allowed to take place outside our little town, mostly in the nearby city. Still, it was bad enough. I was given a bit of extra allowance but not nearly enough to cover all my costs for clothes etc. Fortunately I was the “girl” so Gus had to pay for most other things. The first ordeal was “meet the parents”. MY parents had made sure I was cute, really cute before setting off to do that. Of course wearing a short dress showing off my apparently irresistible legs. The rest of my body? Well, Mom IS a professional. Just as Dad is. Or should I say Mommy and Daddy? NO! Absolutely NOT!

To my surprise Gus’ parents are quite nice, even if wicked. I soon saw through them. They had made their countermove against Gus’ move. And I was collateral damage. To be fair to them they made every effort to make me comfortable and they nudged Gus into offering the most interesting dates. To be honest they were very nice and educational. Theatre, opera, exhibitions .. Always accompanied by the most exquisite meals. At restaurants that neither I nor my parents would be able to afford. Too bad I had to buy so many dresses and shoes. Not to speak about the utter embarrassment of buying lingerie for myself. Yes, I was measured (wearing my B-cup breast forms). I was impressed by how professional the girl was. To make things worse Gus often went with me when shopping (including lingerie). He has amazingly good taste when it comes to fashion.

Gus
I could have killed my parents (and Bobby’s) when they pulled this stunt on us. All right, I might have deserved it but to drag Bobby into it as well. I had not had much interaction with Paula before. I had mostly managed to avoid her and now I realized that my instinct was good. She is not a nice person. Her parents had threatened her with the most hideous punishments (some probably not legal) if she outed us in school but the malicious way she talked about Boobie at home …

Oh, I knew very well what my parents were up to but there was very little I could do, at the moment. Besides I discovered that I liked the “dates” with Bobby. Despite myself I also liked my parents’ attention to our “dating”. They had never done anything like that with any of my girlfriends. They had good ideas. Why had I never done all those things with my girlfriends? Perhaps because none of them would have appreciated all that. All very beautiful but in hindsight not very bright. Not like Bobby. Besides, Bobby’s great weakness is that he is a thoroughly NICE kid. So easy to take advantage of. Not standing up for himself. Never assertive. It is also his greatest strength. I had never spent time with someone so genuinely nice, without any agenda of his or her own. I realized that this said so much not only about my friends but also about myself. That was how I stopped fearing my dates with Bobby and started to just enjoy them. Besides, this was only until Thanksgiving after that Bobby and I could go our own separate ways.

Bobby
Much as I liked “dating” Gus I looked forward to Thanksgiving, or rather the Monday after Thanksgiving. Yes, it was all very “educational” and spending time with Gus was more enjoyable than I ever could have imagined but I couldn’t get back to my normal life soon enough. I was sure that my parents had grown weary of the whole thing as well despite their silly jokes about “missing Gus” when I’d break up with him”. Come to think about it, it would be the first time I wasn’t the dumpee.

Did I tell you that Gus’ parents are loaded and influential? Getting an appointment at a salon at a fancy resort on Thanksgiving morning takes some pull. Not that they didn’t do a fantastic job on me. Even better than Dad. The dinner was scrumptious (hey, that’s the way they talked). I wore a special dress I had saved for the occasion. You might wonder why dressing up so much for a dinner in a “cabin”. Well, let’s say that the definition of cabin depends on who you are.

However, it was in the forrest and on the Friday call-me-Bill, Gus’ dad, took me hunting. The first time ever he’d seen me without a dress or a skirt. Gus was amazed but appeared to be pleased. Apparently Bill NEVER took Gus hunting.

Actually, there was very little hunting done. Most of the time we talked. Bill told me how much he owed me. I couldn’t understand what he was talking about. Then he talked for a very long time about Gus. How he loved his son but how disappointed Gus had made him. He had found Gus to be too entitled, to flightly, lacking in gravitas. That is until Gus met me. There was a reason Bill had never taken Gus hunting. Gus was too impulsive. Dangerously impulsive. Just look at the way he had acted at the Halloween dance. He had acted without thinking. Not after considering the consequences and then bravely deciding to risk it after all.

Bill also told me that I probably had not noticed but Gus had taken many measures to make sure nothing bad happened to me. The old Gus would never have done that. Gus never was evil but the old Gus would never even thought about the possibility.

Bill also told me that he had been happy to see changes in me. That I appeared to be more self-confident despite, or perhaps because, all that had been thrown at me in the last few weeks. He also apologized to me for all they had made me go through, past, present and future. Strange wording but he basically admitted what I already had figured out and I appreciated the apology even if they could have spared me all this stress.

I almost got the impression that he was sorry I wasn’t really Gus’ girlfriend, which was patently silly of me.

The rest of the long weekend we just relaxed. I needed that after all the stress I had lived under since Thanksgiving. We played silly games and had fun. I unwound. I even fell asleep against Gus’ shoulder when listening to Vivaldi’s “Spring”.

Gus
I almost was sorry that Thanksgiving was over. I had made no objection to staying as late as possible even if that meant driving through the night. I had taken the middle shift so I was happy to crawl into the back seat with Bobby to catch some sleep. Bobby was wearing a simple short mauve dress made of a soft material that worked quite well as a pillow.

The car stopped, my parents woke up me and Bobby and we were still groggy when we got out of the van which then took off with a screeching wheels. Leaving me and Bobby to face our high school. There were only a few minutes before the bell was to ring so everyone was there. My friends, Bobby friends and everyone else. There we stood hand-in-hand. Bobby in his mauve short dress accentuating not only his amazing legs but also his (fake) boobs. His make-up a bit smeared over night but his Dad had taught him well. I turned to Bobby.

“What do we do now?”

Bobby took my head and pulled my face down to his. And then he said, more loudly and assertive than I’d ever heard him before.

“Kiss me you big oaf”

Bobby
The kiss was not bad, not bad at all. For the first time since all this started I leaned into it. Let myself be caught up by the kiss and nothing else. Judging from the response Gus let himself go as well. Loud applause.

“Show’s over! Break up! Break up! No public displays of affection on school grounds! Everybody, go to your classes”

Just our luck. The girls’ coach had the supervising duty this morning.

“Gus! Bobby is a keeper. Be nice to him. Don’t treat him like you usually do! Don’t disappoint me! You hear me?! Bobby! Finally! Finally, you have picked someone you deserve. And I have more faith in my coaching ability than to let those legs go to waste so I want to see you at practice this afternoon. Have fun kids, but not too much. Now I’ll have to turn around and take care of this crowd for a minute. Exactly sixty seconds. And I DON’T want to see any more PDAs. Understood?”

… 56, 57, 58

At the count of 58 we broke off our second serious kiss. We made sure to have some safety margin. We had interpreted Coach correctly. There was no way she could have misunderstood our many, many friends’ cheering even if not looking at us. After the kiss I lowered my right leg and opened my eyes. I told you this was a horror story, didn’t I? It was very obvious to me when I looked at my sister. The horror was my sister’s when she realized what all this meant for HER!