Too Pretty to Be a Boy -6- by Lajien

Clothes were scattered everywhere—dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes—a total mess. I felt a wave of frustration, my stomach twisting into knots. This whole 'new look' thing was already stressing me out, and now I had to deal with this chaotic pile. I sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at the pile, completely lost. Mom was next to me, holding up a white blouse with a lace collar, her eyes bright with an enthusiasm I didn’t share. The delicate lace seemed so fragile, so unlike my usual style.

'What do you think of this?' she asked, smoothing the fabric between her fingers, her touch gentle but insistent.

I hesitated, my gaze lingering on the intricate details of the blouse. 'It's...nice,' I said slowly, not really feeling it. 'But I don't know if it's my style.' A sigh escaped my lips, and I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the tension build.

Mom smiled like she knew something I didn't, a knowing glint in her eyes. 'Sweetheart, it's okay. Trust me, it'll look great once it's all together. Now, let's find a skirt.' She spoke with a reassuring tone like she was trying to convince herself as well.

She dove into the clothes, muttering as she searched, her fingers rustling through the fabrics. A minute later, she held up a navy blue skirt, soft and flowy. The material looked smooth and cool, but the color seemed too formal for my taste. She held it against me, squinting, her head tilting slightly as she assessed the look.

'This,' she declared, her voice firm and decisive, 'is perfect. Simple, elegant, just the right length.' She stepped back, her eyes sparkling with approval.

I fidgeted with the hem of my worn shirt, the familiar comfort of my everyday clothes suddenly feeling inadequate. 'It's a lot, Mom,' I admitted, the words barely a whisper. 'I don't even know if I'm ready for all this.' My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anxiety and a strange kind of anticipation.

She put the skirt down and took my hands, her touch grounding and warm. 'Carla, I know it's overwhelming. But you're not alone. We'll figure it out.' Her words were meant to be comforting, but they only made me feel more exposed.

Her words helped, but then she smiled like she had another idea, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 'You know what would really make this outfit pop?' she said, her eyes lighting up with playful anticipation.

'What?' I asked, already suspicious of her enthusiasm, a knot forming in my stomach.

'Pantyhose.' Her tone was light, but the word hit me like a ton of bricks.

My jaw dropped, my eyes widening in disbelief. 'Pantyhose? Mom, seriously? That's way too much!' I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

She laughed, the sound light and reassuring, as if she were talking to a child. 'Not at all! Opaque ones, not the sheer stuff. Like your black tights, but different.'

'I don't know. Sounds complicated,' I said, crossing my arms, feeling a wave of resistance. I shifted my weight, trying to find a way out of this.

Mom nodded, then with a quick, 'Wait here,' she turned and headed towards her room. The soft padding of her footsteps faded down the hallway. A minute later, she returned, a pair of nude-colored opaque pantyhose in her hands. 'See? These are soft and comfortable, and they'll blend right in. You'll barely notice them.'

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. 'I don't even know how to put those on,' I admitted, half hoping that would get me out of this.

Mom chuckled and sat down beside me. 'Then let me teach you. It's easy.' Her movements were slow and patient, and I mimicked her as best as I could.

'See? Not so bad,' she said, smiling as I adjusted them.

'They’re… different,' I said, smoothing them out awkwardly.

'You’ll get used to them,' she replied. 'Now, let’s finish the rest of the outfit.'

I picked up the white blouse, the lace feeling delicate against my fingertips. I slipped it over my head, the fabric soft and airy, a stark contrast to my usual worn tees. I carefully tucked it into the waistband of the navy blue skirt, the material light, swishing slightly as I moved. I glanced at myself in the mirror, and the reflection felt foreign like I was playing dress-up.

Mom clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with approval. 'Now for the shoes.' Her enthusiasm was contagious, but I still felt a knot of unease in my stomach.

She pulled out a pair of beige, low-heeled pumps and handed them to me. 'Try these.' The heels seemed ridiculously high, but I slid them on and stood up to test them out. The slight lift felt strange, making me wobble slightly, but I was not uncomfortable. I took a few tentative steps, feeling like a baby giraffe.

'You’re doing great,' Mom said, her voice warm and proud. She stepped back, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. Then, as if remembering something, she walked over to the dresser and opened a small jewelry box. The soft clinking of delicate metal filled the air.

'Just one more thing,' she said, turning back to me, her expression soft and full of emotion. In her hands was a delicate gold necklace with a small pendant that sparkled faintly in the light. The pendant seemed to hold a story, a history I wasn't privy to.

'This necklace,' she began, her voice soft and full of emotion, 'is one of a pair and has been given to me by your Nona. The other one is with your aunt Bella; we promised her to give it to our daughters if we get girls. So, now I am giving it to you.' Her fingers trembled slightly as she held out the necklace.

I stared at her, my throat tightening as she clasped it around my neck. The pendant rested against my skin, its weight feeling both heavy and comforting. A wave of emotion washed over me, a mix of gratitude and overwhelming love.

'Mom…' I whispered, my voice shaky. 'I don’t know what to say.' The words felt inadequate, but I couldn’t find anything more fitting.

She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 'You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart. Just know that you’re my daughter, and I’m so proud of you.' Her touch was gentle, reassuring.

I turned to the mirror, looking at myself fully dressed—the blouse, the skirt, the shoes, the necklace. For the first time, I felt like I was beginning to understand who I was becoming. A sense of transformation, both exciting and terrifying, washed over me.

Mom stood behind me, resting her hands on my shoulders. 'You look beautiful, Carla,' she said softly. 'Absolutely beautiful.' Her reflection in the mirror was a picture of pride.

And for a moment, I believed her. The words resonated, a fragile seed of self-acceptance taking root.

Then, there was a knock on the door, a sharp, insistent sound that broke the spell. I looked at Mom, and she pulled out her phone to see who it was. Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing. She took one look at the phone and rolled her eyes, a groan escaping her lips. 'What is she doing here?' Her tone was laced with irritation.

'Who’s that?' I asked, raising an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. It’s not usual for Mom to hate someone this much. Whoever that person is, she must have pissed Mom off many times.

'Rebecca from the HOA,' Mom replied, her voice filled with undisguised annoyance. She walked out of the room, her footsteps heavy, and I followed her, a sense of foreboding settling in my stomach.

'Mom, there is something I need to tell you,' I explained, my voice urgent, while Mom looked at me, her expression confused. 'This morning, when I went for a run, I met Angela and other kids hanging out at the basketball yard. At first, this one guy thought I was a girl, which is kinda true, but I didn’t know. Then, when Angela called me by my name, he got mad, saying I tricked him, and grabbed my collar,' I explained, finally letting out a breath, the tension easing slightly.

'Knowing how Dad and I raised you, you don’t back down in front of bullies, so what did you do?' Mom asked, sounding a bit amused rather than mad. She completely ignored the knocking on the door, which now turned to pounding. Her amusement surprised me, but it also gave me a sense of relief.

'I flipped him over but made sure he landed on the grass, not the concrete. But then he started talking about how his mom is in the HOA and all of that,' I explained, and Mom burst into laughter, making me confused. The sound echoed through the hallway.

'Serve that brat right. Anyway, I’ve got your back. He’s lucky I’m not going to tell Johnny about this,' Mom joked, making me smile. If she tells Johnny, I am sure the boy will never look me in the eyes ever again. 'Stay beside me, and don’t worry, you did nothing wrong.' Her tone was reassuring, solid.

I followed Mom as she opened the door, a sense of nervous anticipation building in my chest. Behind the door was a lady, in a sharp red skirt suit, and matching high-heeled pumps, with black pantyhose. She had brown hair, with some grey strands, and she looked good, too good assuming her age. Behind her was the boy from this morning, he looked at me, shocked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

'Mommy, that’s the one,' he said, pointing at me, his voice high-pitched and accusing. I almost laughed hearing what he called his mom and the way he acted, but I decided to remain polite. A flicker of annoyance sparked within me, but I tamped it down.

'Is this your son?' she asked, looking at Mom with a surprise that seemed almost staged. It’s hard to believe I used to live as a boy only a couple of hours ago. The absurdity of the situation struck me, a bizarre twist in my already chaotic day.

'No, that’s my daughter, Carla,' Mom explained, pulling me to her side, her voice firm and protective. 'I know what happened, Rebecca. I know you’re mad, but your son tried to bully my daughter, and I am not sorry that I taught her not to back down in front of bullies,' Mom explained in a no-nonsense tone, her eyes locking with Rebecca's. A wave of pride washed over me, but also a sense of unease.

'Nathan, apologize to this young lady, right now,' she said in a stern tone that shocked me and Mom both. We didn’t expect her to ask her son to apologize. The sudden shift in her demeanor was jarring.

'But Mommy…' he complained, his voice whiny, but received a sharp slap to the back of the head. The sound echoed in the hallway.

'You tried to bully this young lady. I am very clear when it comes to violence or trying to bully a girl, and I am glad a girl finally decided to teach you a lesson,' she scolded, holding his ear and twisting it, making him wince in pain. 'Now apologize,' she repeated, her voice leaving no room for argument.

'You can’t do that. I am going to tell Daddy,' he explained, but she tightened her grip on his ear, her eyes flashing with anger.

'Tell your daddy when he pays the bills or puts food on the table. Now apologize, or you’ll be grounded for two months,' she threatened, clearly not joking. I looked at Mom, and she looked at me, her eyebrows raised in surprise. She was as surprised as I was.

'Aw, okay, okay, I am sorry,' Nathan said, his voice barely audible, making his mom stop twisting his ear and let go. The apology felt forced, but I appreciated the effort.

'Ms. Romano, may we come in? I would like to talk to you and your lovely daughter, please,' she requested, her tone suddenly polite and reasonable.

Mom immediately looked at me, her eyes questioning, and I shrugged, trying to convey my neutrality. It’s not like I have beef with that lady, and she just made her son apologize to me. But this was Mom’s house, and it’s her decision, not mine. 

Mom sighed, looking at her smartwatch, a hint of impatience in her eyes. 'Please come in, but I have dinner with my daughter in half an hour,' Mom said, stepping aside to let them in. She led them to the living room, her posture stiff, while I followed Mom, a sense of apprehension settling in my stomach. 

'Would you like something to drink?' Mom offered the moment we were all seated, her tone polite but distant.

'Some tea, please, any kind,' she replied, looking at me, her eyes holding a strange, almost unsettling admiration. I was weirded out, so I took my chance to get away for a bit, needing a moment to process everything. 'I’ll make the tea, Mom,' I explained, already standing up. Instead of going to the kitchen, I walked to the tea maker around the corner, wanting to avoid the awkwardness.

'Thank you, honey,' Mom said as I was walking away, her voice softening slightly.

'A lovely daughter you have, Ms. Romano,' she said, making me shudder a bit. Her look was weird, but not the creepy weird. 'I have always wished I could have a beautiful daughter like her.' Her words hung in the air, a strange mix of compliment and something else I couldn't quite place.

'Indeed, I am proud to call Carla my daughter,' Mom replied, her voice filled with a quiet strength, making me smile despite myself.

'I never knew you had children, though. I know Jaeger girls spend a lot of time with you, but in the couple of months since you moved in here, I never knew you had children,' she explained, her tone curious. The questions felt intrusive, but I kept my focus on the tea.

I could still hear them from the kitchen, and boy, was she nosy. I mean, why does she ask all these questions? It’s none of her business why Mom didn’t have kids around the house or why I wasn’t living with her. A sense of protectiveness towards Mom flared within me.

'Carla used to live with her dad back in New York, and she came here to live with me,' Mom explained, her tone polite but very dry, a subtle warning in her voice. 

'Mrs. Queens, can we get straight to the point, please? I don’t mean to be rude, but I finally get to spend some time with my daughter without having to worry about when she will leave again. In fact, I bought this house since she decided to come live with me, so I hope you see how far I am willing to go to spend quality time with my daughter,' Mom explained, with a hint of frustration in her tone, her words firm and unwavering.

‘I won’t take much of your time, Ms. Romano. I would like to propose something, but your daughter needs to hear it,’ she replied, her tone shifting, becoming almost conspiratorial. By this time, the tea was done. I poured four teacups, arranging them on a tray and walking back into the living room. 

The air was thick with unspoken tension. ‘There she is,’ Mrs. Queens exclaimed, almost too excited to see me. Her eyes sparkled with an odd intensity.

I set the tray down and placed a cup in front of everyone. Nathan, however, glared at me and pushed his cup away with a petulant sneer. ‘I am not drinking your stupid tea,’ he growled, his voice low and hostile. A wave of irritation washed over me, but I kept my expression neutral.

He immediately got a sharp smack to the back of the head, the sound echoing in the room. ‘Stop being rude, apologize now,’ she ordered impatiently, her eyes flashing with anger.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper, his eyes fixed on the floor. The forced apology hung in the air, thick with resentment.

‘Ms. Romano, I will get straight to the point. I want to set up your daughter and Nathan on a date,’ she explained, her tone casual, as if she were suggesting a playdate. I looked at her with wide eyes, my jaw dropping slightly. Is she crazy? The audacity of the proposal left me speechless.

‘Mrs. Queens, did you walk into my house to say this? My daughter’s date is her choice, and I am sure if she dates, she won’t date a spoiled brat who speaks out of his ass rather than his mouth. And I am not sure your wimpy husband and son can handle her dad or her older brother, and I assure you they are protective of her,’ Mom replied, her voice sharp and laced with sarcasm. 

I looked at her with wide eyes, a mix of shock and admiration. I can’t believe she just said that. But she was in full attack mode, defending me fiercely.

‘I want my stupid son to learn how to respect women. If being controlled by a strong date who doesn’t back down will teach him, then I will ask for it,’ she explained, her tone surprisingly sincere, though her words were still laced with an odd form of manipulation. Mom raised her eyebrow, clearly not convinced, her gaze skeptical.

‘As I said, it’s Carla’s choice. If she agrees, then so be it. If she doesn’t, then I would like it if we don’t talk about this again,’ Mom gave her final reply, her voice firm and unwavering. She looked at me, her eyes questioning, waiting for my answer. The weight of the decision settled on my shoulders.

‘I am sorry, no offense, Mrs. Queens. I just moved in here, and I am still dealing with the moving and many other stuff, so I am not ready to date anyone, let alone Nathan,’ I explained honestly, hoping that she would just drop the matter. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anxiety and a strange curiosity.

‘No offense taken, darling, but if you ever change your mind, my son is not going anywhere, and your wishes will be his commands. I will make sure of it,’ she explained, her tone smooth and persuasive. She drank her tea, and then she dragged her son out of the house, her heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor.

‘This was weird,’ I exclaimed with a sigh, the tension finally releasing from my shoulders. The whole encounter felt surreal.

‘Not at all. Rebecca is someone who believes in female superiority. The boy is being raised by his father; he’s not the kind of father that you know. He’s completely feminized. He’s not allowed to work and stays at home. He can’t wear anything that is not 100% feminine, or his wife would eat him alive. While I don’t like that part, he’s just the product of her household,’ Mom explained, clearing the whole thing up. 

Her tone was matter-of-fact, but I could sense a hint of something else, perhaps pity. I couldn’t deny the intrigue. Maybe, just maybe, I will give it a shot. The thought lingered, a strange seed of curiosity planted in my mind.

The idea of Nathan, so different from what I expected, flickered in my mind. It wasn't the date itself that intrigued me, but the sheer oddity of the situation. A boy raised in a world so utterly opposite to mine. The contrast was almost… fascinating.

I looked at Mom, her expression calm, but I could see a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. 'So, you think I should go out with him?' I asked, my voice laced with a playful skepticism.

Mom shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. 'It's your choice, Carla. But think of it as an… anthropological study.' She paused, her eyes twinkling. 'Besides, it might be interesting to see how someone so… pampered… handles a girl who can flip him onto the grass.'

I laughed, the sound echoing through the living room. 'You're terrible,' I said, shaking my head. But a part of me, a small, rebellious part, was intrigued. The idea of Nathan, so sheltered and different, was like a puzzle I wanted to solve.