Pete's Vagina -51.1- End Run

I got out the kitchen door as quickly as I could, but not before hearing  Jordan  tell Lee that she would, “Just go see what’s taking Pete so long.”

I sprinted for the back corner of the house, where I almost tripped on Wug guarding the door to the laundry room. The big furball seldom left that door unguarded for long, ever since a cat had gotten into his dog bed behind the water heater.

I went past the big double tubs and across the hall into my own room, remembering as I did so that Jordan had already invaded what was previously my masculine sanctuary once today.

The big mirror over my dresser showed me what Mom had been doing before I got away from her. My eyelashes were thick and dark… well, thicker and darker. I’ve always had great lashes – even for a girl. And I’d heard that a lot over the years. I sighed, looking down at what Mom had put into my hand. Yes, it was a tube of mascara.

Then I looked up at the mirror again. Had I always had a big, well-lit mirror over my dresser? I couldn’t remember it being different, but the part of me that was Pete the football player cringed a bit at my reflection.

Just then Jordan burst into the room. “There you are,” she squeaked in excitement. “I heard you leaving by the side door, and hoped you’d be back here.” She held up another tube, this one gold. Lipstick! That was what she had threatened me with this morning.

“Jordan!” I protested.

I had no other escape. I pushed past her and hurried down the hall to the front room.

Lee stood near the fireplace, looking bemused by Molly dancing in front of him.

I tend to forget that Lee is over six feet tall, even if one of his shoes has an almost five-inch platform. He loomed over my littlest sister, smiling as she asked him, “Are you going to be Pete’s new boyfriend?”

Like I’d ever had a boyfriend before!

“I think that’s up to Pete,” Lee answered with a smile.

I stood at the door to the front room, staring at him. “G-good to know that I’ve got a choice,” I stammered. I felt my face turn red.

Then Mom and Jordan caught up with me. Mom held something out to me. “I couldn’t find your bag, so I’ll lend you one of mine.” She pointedly held out a purse—a purse— open for me to look inside. “I put in some things you might need.”

I glanced into the small handbag, seeing two white cylinders. My insides turned to ice as I realized what they were and why I might need them.

Meanwhile, Jordan dumped her lipstick in, then took the mascara tube out of my hand and put it in there, too. I blinked at her.

“Petey,” she said sweetly. “You’re a hell of a football player, but you’re a disaster at being a girl.”

I nodded as she pressed the clutch into my hand. “I keep telling people that!” I said, trying not to whine.

Grinning at the byplay, Lee said, “You look great, Pete! Ready?”

I shook my head, but murmured, “I guess so.”

Inside, I was panicking: what if Lee were to offer me his arm? What was I supposed to do? Desperate to avoid such a situation, I scrambled out the front door ahead of him, and I left it open behind me.

I stopped there, though, looking at what was in my hand. This purse doesn’t have a strap!?