A Boy With Girly Hair - Part 14

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Outlet Mall

For the most part, Jenna had been fair to me. If I were genuinely uncomfortable with something, she could feel it. She could tell if a proposal had pushed my limits and respected that.

But what she was about to propose was above and beyond what I’d ever done. Let me set something straight. Though I’ve taken on the digital alter-ego of Sammi Jaclyn, I had never needed to actually pretend to be a girl in real life to people I did not need. The lunch with Trista and Jenna was a stretch, and outside of ordering my meal, I never really needed to present myself as a girl. The very thought of that terrifies me.

“Sam before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m not telling you to come with me.”

Hmm. That was a surprise. A bit of a relief too.

“Okay, that’s good to know. Do you still want to hang out with him?” I asked.

“Well, I would, but we can’t exactly stay the night up here. Mom and Dad don’t even know what we’re actually doing. I think it would arouse too much suspicion.”

This was an impressively measured take from Jenna. She knew my situation. I’d never officially interacted as a girl and any attempts to do so would cause me to be so nervous that I’d be bound to lose my cover. And though my voice is higher than most boys my age, it doesn’t sound particularly girly.

Jenna politely declined Brad’s offer. “There’s plenty of guys around the home for me.”

I was fully prepared to begin the disrobing process, but Jenna insisted we take a few shots for the Instagram page. I’d completely forgot! The whole reason we even got this modeling job in the first place fell completely by the wayside.

“Can we just use one of the photos Trista took? I don’t see a problem with it as long as it doesn’t have your face in it.” Jenna proposed.

Trista allowed it, and I said that worked for me as well. My hair looked impeccable in those pictures. The quality of both the stylist and the camera was unmatched.

“Can we get one more picture?” Jenna asked, “to remember the moment?”

I was used to this by now. I was fully ready to pose but to my astonishment, Jenna wanted a picture with me.

“Just…us two?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. To this day I don’t think we’ve taken a picture together as sisters. It’d be nice to have.

“Jenna, we can’t post that! They’ll see me – they’ll see you!”

“No no no no,” she came up to me gently, “this is just for us. It’ll stay on my phone in my photos.”

I didn’t think I had any problems with that. If it was just going to stay on her phone, what was the harm? Trista posed us next to each other, hands-on-hips and big smiles. Jenna looked happier than ever. It never ceases to feel nice watching my sister be happy.

The photo and thus began the process of turning myself from Sammi back into Sam. First, I took the dress off and changed back into my boy clothes. Trista made sure to look away as I exchanged the bra and panties and returned them to my sister. Good. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with it.

Trista helped me wash all the makeup off of my face. Within 10 minutes my face was totally back to normal and the only remnant was my styled hair. We’d been through this sort of situation before and thought a messy bun would do the trick. It hides any sort of styling quite well.

Jenna and I said our farewells to Trista after a successful visit. We were both $250 richer thanks to this, and we gave Trista a lot of good pictures to use for her salon. We both hugged her goodbye and thanked her for lunch and everything else.

“What about this dress?” Trista asked as we stepped outside.

“We’ll take it,” Jenna said, looking at me. “Maybe we’ll need it for something later.”

I rolled my eyes. I was happy to be done with that dress. I could finally be at ease with my own look.

Our car ride home was nice. Less than an hour and a half from Milwaukee to the Chicago area wasn’t bad by any means. We neared home and Jenna checked her phone at a stoplight.

“Hmm, Mom just texted me asking when we’ll be home. She said we’re on our own for dinner tonight.”

“We’re about 15 out, no?” I said.

“Yeah. But if we wanna grab a bite to eat out that could be fun.”

“Nah. It’s too early still.” I told her apathetically. “Plus, I don’t wanna pay for meals out.”

“You know we DID just get $250 apiece,” said Jenna, “any idea on what you’ll use it for?”

I already had considered getting a new game system. There’s a bunch out I’m considering and $250 would definitely cover it. I explained this to her and Jenna proposed a great plan.

“Let’s hit up the mall! We can get dinner at the food court, I can do a little shopping and you can pick up whatever you want. How’s that sound?”

That sounded like a pretty good use of a Saturday. “I’m game.”

We drove to the mall about 20 minutes from our house. It was a large outlet mall just off the highway that took us back to Chicago. I’d never been there before, but Jenna had been several times and spoke very highly of it. She’d gone with friends and our mother before.

We parked in the garage and made it inside. The mall had multiple levels with high ceilings and dozens and dozens of stores. It was HUGE, and I had no idea where to begin.

“How about this – I split off and do some shopping myself while you look for where to buy your stuff? We’re both searching for very different things, anyway.”

Jenna and I went our separate ways as I wandered the mall alone. It was quite crowded, even for a Saturday in the early evening. I wasn’t sure where to look but enjoyed the company of strangers. Everyone walking around with a purpose. Some here for fun, some here for a mission. I found that intriguing for whatever reason.

I decided to give Daisy a call and fill her in on a wild day. It was nice to talk honestly about everything that’s been happening. Though I loved my sister, I sometimes felt a little bit smothered and afraid to hurt her feelings. I was okay going along with this because I love her, but Daisy understood me differently.

I told her all about Trista and the makeover. I explained how we went dress shopping and then out to lunch where Jenna interacted with a boy and nearly decided to go on a date with him.

Our chat was brief but cathartic. At this point, I was having trouble finding a store that sells video game systems. Everything was clothes – men’s, women’s and children’s – but no other items. I finally thought to consult one of the mall maps and read through the list of stores. As it turns out there wasn’t a single Best Buy or electronics store in the entire mall. Crap. I’ve been walking around for nothing.

What else should I do? Next to me was a Nike store that looked cool. Maybe there was some nice running stuff I could buy.

I wandered into the packed store. This wasn’t like a regular sporting store where equipment was sold in addition to clothing. The store only sold clothing.

Now that it was early October, I was curious about the colder weather running gear. I had $250 at my disposal and that could get me a few solid, cool items. I picked out a pair of black track pants and quarter zip. To try on.

I walked over to the changing rooms where both men and women were filtering in and out of. I had a short wait for one to be available but was fortunate enough to be first in line. There was no men’s or women’s section, but rather individual fully locked rooms.

With the stall open, I walked inside and threw down my clothes to get changed. But something surprised me about the changing room – it was a total mess. The person before me had left a bunch of clothes strewn all over the floor. They didn’t bother to bring them back out to the racks, hand them to an employee, or even hang them back up.

It was a woman, clearly, who was in here before, because all of the clothes were marked as such. Curious, I picked them up to see what she had discarded.

On the ground were pants similar to the ones I picked out, but much tighter. I think they’re called leggings but had a Capri cut-off at the calf. They were kind of stretchy.

I ignored them for the moment and tried on my new track pants. They didn’t fit particularly well – loose and scratchy – which would be infuriating to go running in. That’s what made me pick up the leggings again. They’re black, which looked relatively masculine and doable to run in. I mean, would they be? Only one way to find out.

I slipped off the men’s track pants and tried on the leggings. They didn’t fit well over my boxers and my bulge out front didn’t look particularly good. But as I’d learned with these kinds of pants before (the ones I’d worn with Jenna), my butt stood out quite a bit. She had always joked that I have a girl’s plump behind, but I was beginning to see what she meant. It was usually hidden by my boy jeans or sweatpants, but this look completely changed the game.

I twisted and turned in the mirror, curious and confused by my look. Spilled on the floor amongst the other clothes was a gray garment. I picked it up and saw that it was a hoodie but had been cut off at the bottom – by the design of course. At this point, I thought these were pretty nice clothes and wondered why the woman before me didn’t purchase them. Had she not looked good in them? Did she not think they looked good together? Maybe I’d test it out myself.

I took off my shirt and prepared to put on the women’s hoodie. But before I did, I remembered what I learned from Jenna. Girls usually don’t wear outfits without a bra – otherwise, they look uneven. I dug through the piles on the ground to find a bra. Lucky for me I found a black training bra in the mix and put that on. It was a little big for me but did the job. I was equally impressed and disturbed at how little time it took me to put it on.

On top of the bra, I lifted up the hoodie and slid it over my head. It was much shorter than expected and showed much of my tummy. I guess that’s the style?

Looking in the mirror at myself I didn’t quite understand why the woman didn’t like this look. Sure, gray and black aren’t the flashiest, but both pieces of clothing are nice and comfortable – and great for running in.

On the bench next to me was a light green scrunchie. I picked it up and undid my messy bun. I gathered my hair into a ponytail and put it in the scrunchie. Not that I would use these words, but Jenna would have described my look as “cute and flirty.”

I spent a minute checking myself out in the mirror. Turns out the outfit is pretty good – definitely gets my approval should a girl want to buy it.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“Excuse me!” a voice yelled, “I think I left my purse in there.”

Immediately I noticed a dark yellow purse on the bench that I hadn’t seen before. God, how did I miss it?

“Hello? Someone in there?”

I couldn’t speak. What was I supposed to do? Talkback with my boy’s voice? Step outside and return it to her?

I was panicking. Dressed fully in a women’s workout outfit and without Jenna to help bail me out, how was I supposed to get out of this one?