Game, Set, and Match Part 3

by Bronwen Welsh

Mike, competing as Michelle in a mixed doubles tournament overheard some girls talking about cheating and is convinced it refers to him. Now he and his tennis partner Dave will have to face the music.

Part 3

Dazzled by the sun, I almost stumbled straight into Dave who was waiting anxiously outside the washroom.

“Where on earth have you been?” he demanded. “We’ve only got five minutes to get to the court or we’ll default and lose the match.”

Then he stopped and looked hard at me. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

I opened my mouth to reply but just then one of the officials came hurrying up.

“Michelle, Dave!” she called “You’ll default if you aren’t on court in five minutes!”

The she too noticed my face and said “What’s wrong? You don’t look well.”

I managed a wan smile. Obviously, she didn’t know, or else they wanted us on court to be exposed in front of everyone.

“An upset stomach.” I replied “I think it’s nerves.”

She smiled sympathetically. “I’ve had the same thing happen to me, but you’ll be alright when you get on court.”

With that, Dave grabbed my hand, and we flew to the court where he had already taken my bag and racquet. There was a smattering of applause as we appeared. I felt dazed and even more so when I saw the couple waiting on the other side of the net to play us. I had watched the other semi-final to try and get some tips on our opponents. Lisa and Tim were good players, but they were no match for Ann and Peter, a married couple who were very athletic and brilliant players. Peter had recently started to run professionally, so that’s how good an athlete he was. They had won the match with embarrassing ease, but now here was Lisa and Tim waiting to play us. What on earth was going on?

Just then the club President appeared, and all my fears came back and I felt myself shaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen” he began. “I have an unfortunate announcement to make. Ann and Peter who were to play today have been disqualified and as a result the committee has re-instated Lisa and Tim as finalists in these mixed doubles final.”

The crown buzzed with excitement and comment, and I stepped closer to Dave and said “What on earth’s going on?”

“It’s Peter.” he replied,“he’s been caught taking steroids and he failed a drug test at the athletics club, so the tennis club has thrown him out.”

I was in total shock. Somehow, I pulled myself together and we started to play. I won’t say it was because of all that happened, because Lisa and Tim played well, but we lost the match to them 4-6 7-6 3-6. Dave was a good sport and didn’t blame me, even when I told him afterwards about the bathroom incident and how it had affected me.

Following our match, we watched the men’s doubles and ladies’ singles finals and then it was time for Dave to play in the men’s singles final. I was more nervous than him I’m sure, but I cheered him on in what turned out to be a thrilling match — some said the best men’s singles final in the club’s history. When it was all over, Dave walked off the winner and I was just so proud of him. I ran up and gave him another hug and kiss, quite the proper thing for a girlfriend to do. What I dared not admit even to myself was that I felt I really was his girlfriend and I loved it.

Back at the apartment as we recounted the day’s events to Jenny, I couldn’t help looking at Dave and thinking what a handsome guy he was and wondering why he didn’t already have a steady girlfriend? I knew that if he had I would be insanely jealous of her now. How things had changed in the past three weeks, and I wondered if we could ever go back to just being ‘good mates’ again.

The following week was an odd one. The tennis club’s annual dinner and trophy presentation was to be held on the Saturday, and I looked forward to it with a mixture of pleasure and sadness - pleasure because I would be there as Dave’s girlfriend, and sadness because this would be the last time I was Michelle.

Dave rang me up mid-week and asked if I’d like to play tennis and I made an excuse. The real reason of course was that I would have been happy to play as Michelle, but there wasn’t any reason I could come up with to do that and I really didn’t want to meet up with him as Mike, at least not before the dinner. Fortunately, Dave accepted my excuse of ‘too much work’ and didn’t press the invitation.

Jenny was going to get me ready for the dinner and told me I should come around to the apartment in the early afternoon of Saturday as ‘it takes much longer for a girl to get ready for a big night out. Guys have it easy.’

The morning of Saturday dawned bright and sunny. I felt nervous and excited and found it hard to eat anything before going to the apartment. I arrived there about 2pm and Jenny greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and the announcement that we were going to ‘have a fun girls’ afternoon together’. It occurred to me that when I had previously thought how great it would be to have her as a girlfriend, I never envisaged it as the sort of relationship we had now.

She insisted that I start off with a long luxurious bath to relax me, and of course I had to shave my legs again and every other part of me that would be visible in the dress I was to wear. Then when I returned to the bedroom she showed me the new lingerie she had bought for me — a pretty bra, panties and suspender belt set in rose-pink satin, and a matching short full slip with French lace around the bust and hem. Sheer stockings with lace tops lay beside the lingerie, together with a spare pair to take along ‘in case of ladders.’

“If a girl wants to feel pretty, she must be pretty from the skin up.” Jenny explained. “It doesn’t matter that no-one else - or perhaps only a special person - sees what you are wearing underneath, you know it and that’s what counts.”

She left me for a few minutes to slip into my new lingerie and I found the feel of the soft satin and nylon against my skin absolutely delightful and knew that Jenny was right - I did feel pretty. Then she came back and started on my hair. I left myself entirely in her hands, and she had decided that a soft natural look was best, so she put my hair into hot rollers to create soft waves. She worked away at my eyebrows again to give them a more feminine look and then set about creating a glamorous look with make-up. How lucky was I that she is a beautician, as she worked away with foundation and blusher, enhanced my eye lashes and added eye shadow, and finally applied lipstick. Again, I was forbidden to look before she was finished. Finally, she styled my hair.

“Now for your dress.” she said “I bought this quite recently and I haven’t even worn it myself yet - I hope you like it.”

I gasped as she took it from the closet and showed it to me. It was a knee-length tangerine cocktail dress in ruched silk satin and looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Oh Jenny!” I felt myself getting teary and she said in mock alarm “Don’t you start crying and ruining your make-up, girl!”

I couldn’t help feeling emotional after all that had happened in the last few weeks. Now this was to be my last day as Michelle, and it seemed I was really going out on a high.

She helped me into the dress, drew up the zip, fussed over how it looked and then produced some matching shoes which fortunately only had two-inch heels and which matched the dress. Finally, I was allowed to look in the mirror.

I could scarcely believe how she had made me look. I was used to seeing myself in girl mode now of course in a tennis dress, but this was altogether different. I didn’t look like a sports-girl, I actually looked glamorous! Jenny had me walk around the room. She had made me try walking in heels the previous week, saying they were absolutely necessary to wear at the dinner, so I had better get used to them. I had of course been given lessons in how to walk like a woman, rather than stride like a man, and after three weeks I was fairly good at it. Wearing heels seemed to enhance this new way of walking. The feeling of wearing this gorgeous dress and the pretty lingerie underneath was something I’d never experienced before, and I started to feel envious of women who could dress this way whenever they liked. Jenny gave me a spritz of perfume and handed me a small clutch bag with spare stockings, powder and lipstick.

While this makeover had been going on, I had been aware that Dave was getting ready too, and now Jenny led me into the lounge room where he was waiting. He was sitting on the sofa, and as he got up and turned to face us, I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked in his rented tuxedo, tall, athletic, a picture of masculine beauty.

“Well, what do you think of Michelle?” asked Jenny. Dave stared, like he had been struck dumb. Finally, he seemed to pull himself together and smiled broadly as Jenny joked “Well that’s the first time I’ve seen Dave lost for words!” She dashed off to get her camera.

“Seriously Dave” I said while she was gone “do I look alright?”

“You look great,” he said. “I never knew Mike had such a gorgeous sister.”

I was secretly thrilled at his words. Indeed, it was going to be the perfect evening and the only cloud on the horizon which I refused to even think about, was that I was Michelle for the last time and had to go back to being Mike again tomorrow.

‘But why am I thinking this?’ I thought ‘To Dave I’m still Mike in a dress, and this is the final part of our ruse that started three weeks ago. We achieved what we set out to do, more or less and to think anything else is absurd. I’m just acting this part. Get a grip and stop being stupid.’

Jenny arrived back with the camera and insisted we do several poses for her before saying “Off you go and have a wonderful evening.”