It had been another normal Friday night for us, differing only in the fact that Barry’s girl-friend, Jean, had accompanied us this time on the regular evening pub outing. The reason for that was because Barry was showing off as usual.

Barry had passed his driving test at the beginning of the week, and his father had presented him with the old family car, he having meanwhile bought a new one for himself.

Our friend had chauffeured us all in his new acquisition, and of course that meant that Jean had to come along as well. If you can’t show off to your girl-friend there’s just no justice in the world. Besides, as impressed as Harry and I might be, we’d only take the Mickey out of him. We actually didn’t mind Jean coming along, we had known her and her family for a long time, and we were all friends.

The evening had flown by in its usual manner, in a pub, although not our usual tavern. Because he now had wheels Barry had felt the need to explore, and so we ended up a long way from our normal watering holes. However, the beer was good, and bolstered up our conversation, and by the time last orders was called we all, Jean, Barry, Harry and I, had had more than enough to drink.

We clambered unsteadily into Barry’s chariot, Harry and me in the back, Jean in the front passenger seat and Barry behind the wheel, and set off in the general direction of our various homes. One thing about Barry, he didn’t mind taking us around, although that may also have been part of his showing off routine.

“When shall we three meet again?” Harry quoted ghoulishly.

“Definitely next Friday,” said Barry, “I’ve heard of another great pub we can try out!”

“What about Saturday?” I asked. “Anybody know of any parties?”

At seventeen, neither Harry nor I were dating regularly, just doing the rounds in the girl stakes as often as possible, and the best opportunities for meeting women that we had found were at a party. Parties contributed the added plus of alcohol, which loosened our tongues, promoted confidence and vanquished shyness. At least, it did for me. Harry had a natural instinct with girls, and didn’t seem to need additional stimulant, whereas I was a bit shy and as the consequence of being an only child not very knowledgeable about the fair sex and therefore required a bit of an artificial boost to my libido.

“I’m going to a party,” announced Jean in the smug way she has, smiling into the rear view mirror at us.

“Are you?” said Barry, sounding surprised as he took his eyes off the road to look at her and causing the car to veer gently towards the centre line. “You never told me. Where are we going?”

Jean turned to him. “I didn’t tell you because you’re not invited,” she informed him mysteriously.

“No?” Barry’s mouth turned downwards, sulky. He didn’t like it when he wasn’t told what his girl-friend was up to, or when things weren’t going his way. “Who are you going with, then?”

My alcohol-befuddled brain urged me into speech. “Don’t be rotten, Jean,” I interrupted. “You’re going to a party and you didn’t want to tell us? You can take us, surely?”

Jean turned round in her seat. “No, I can’t. If you must know, it’s a girls’ get-together. A lot of old school-friends and various people we’ve all met at work are going to be there. No men allowed!”

I whistled. “Except for me, Jean! All those women and you’re trying to exclude us! Surely you could take me with you!”

Jean laughed. “Not unless you want to wave a magic wand and turn yourself into a female! It’s strictly girls only! No exceptions.”

I slumped back in the seat, easily beaten. I hadn’t really been too worried anyway, I just liked trying to get a rise out of Barry’s girl who I secretly adored, although sometimes she seemed a bit too straight-laced to my mind. Perhaps that had something to do with her Catholic school upbringing, I mused silently.

Conversation was held in abeyance for a short while as we continued driving through the dark, moonless night, although even in my bleary state I did notice Barry glancing in the rear-view mirror at Harry on a number of occasions, and observed their eyebrows raised and lowered in some form of wordless communication. Harry had his usual enigmatic smile pasted across his face, typical after a few drinks.

After a while Barry cleared his throat. “Jean, do you reckon you could take a friend to this party?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Well, yes, but not you. I told you, it’s a girls’ party.”

“Suppose we set up a dare for someone to go to this do with you. Would you take them?”

Still puzzled, Jean nodded. “I suppose so. Who did you have in mind? And what do you mean a dare?”

Barry glanced round at me. “John, do you fancy going to this party?”

“What?” I said, snapping out of my drunken reverie as Jean at the same time exclaimed “Barry, I told you á± “

Barry cut her short. “Dare time,” he exclaimed dramatically. “John, I bet you wouldn’t go to Jean’s party dressed as a girl!”

I sat up and looked at him incredulously through a beery haze and nodded sluggishly.

“You’re right, you win. I wouldn’t!” I said, while Jean nudged him hard in the ribs. “Don’t be so ridiculous!” she told him.

Silence resumed until Harry, having waited a moment or two said, “Still, if any of us could do it, John could.”

Barry smirked into the rear view mirror. “Yeah, I can just see John in pink panties!”

“And a cross-your-heart bra!” contributed Harry.

“With little embroidered flowers on it!”

“And a sweet little party dress.”

“Showing off her legs.in stockings and suspenders.”

I turned on both of them. “Are you saying I look like a girl?” I demanded angrily as Jean put a restraining hand on Barry’s arm.

“That’s enough,” she warned him, and turning to Harry shook her head silently. The look she gave him could have turned him to stone.

Silence tinged the atmosphere inside the car as I wrestled mentally with the uncomfortable images that had been drawn in my mind’s eye, and I realised I had the beginnings of an erection over the thoughts conjured up. I wriggled in my seat, trying to regain control of my renegade body.

The silence continued.

“Still,” Harry’s voice cautiously ventured after a few moments, “If any of us could get away with a dare like this, it would be you, John. I’m too tall and thin, and Barry’s too fat!”

“I’m not fat!” exploded Barry, as Jean laughed and squeezed his arm.

“What about beer for a month?” asked Harry.

I gaped at him. “What do you mean?”

Looking at Barry, Harry said “Barry and I will buy you beer for a month if you go with Jean to the party dressed as a girl!”

Jean turned around in her seat. “I certainly won’t be taking anyone to any party pretending to be a girl and looking like an over-made-up clown!”

“Er.” I tried to speak.

Barry interrupted with his two-penn’orth: “No, you’d be in charge of making him look the part!”

“Er.” I said.

“Yes,” said Harry. “Jean, you’d make sure he could pass as a girly at the party, wouldn’t you?”

“Er.”

“Wait a minute,” said Jean, “I haven’t agreed to any of this. These are my girl friends we’re talking about here. I’ve told you it’s a get-together for girls only. If I sneaked John in as you’re suggesting, and he was found out, nobody would talk to me ever again!”
 
 
I silently watched my friends’ discussion continue in disbelief. It was as if I wasn’t there with them.

Barry rubbed Jean’s exposed knee in a conciliatory manner with his free hand. “I think you might be exaggerating their reactions,” he told her smoothly. “And anyway, aren’t we your friends as well?” he asked.

Jean turned round to face me with her á«please help me’ face on; at last I was to be consulted: “You’re not thinking of taking them up on this, are you?” she asked.

“Er.”

During their exchange my mind had been toying with the thought. Initially their suggestion of my dressing up as a girl had made me feel uncomfortable, certainly in the groin area. I hadn’t thought my friends found me in any way effeminate. However, I felt I had thought of a way out of the situation. I looked at Jean, then at Harry and Barry.

“Six months,” I stated, fool that I am, raising the stakes to what I felt would be an unacceptable level.

“What?” My three friends chorused.

My head had cleared a little by now. “Six months,” I repeated. “If you want me to do this, I reckon it’s worth free beer for six months. And only if Jean will help me, and then only if she thinks I’ve got half a chance of getting away with it.”

My friends stared at each other, silently, before, unbelievably and to my intense horror, Harry and Barry both nodded agreement.
Barry looked at Jean. “We agree,” he said, “What about you, Jean? We’ll abide by your decision.”

Jean’s initially angry expression faded as she slowly looked me up and down. Then, with a half smile, “All right,” she said carefully, so that everyone understood her standpoint, “But only if I have the final say. I’m not going to upset my girl-friends if I don’t think it’ll work.”

We all shook hands on it, me somewhat limply, and I relapsed into a semi-daze, conscious only of having committed myself unthinkingly to an enterprise I knew I was bound to live to regret, until the others poured me out of the car outside my home.