Pete's Vagina - 46.2 - Chinstrap

“How many times do I have to say no?” I protested. “I’m not going to wear nail polish!”

“See, you’re thinking some sort of color,” Joanna countered. “I’m talking a matte clear coat. No one will know you’re wearing it!”

“I’ll know! And I’ve said ‘nothing doing’ three times now!” I shook my fist at her. “I don’t want to have to pop ya one, Jo!”

I must not have looked very threatening because she giggled. “You’re so cute when you’re pissed off, Petey-Gayle,” she said, just to feed my annoyance. “I guess one black eye between us is enough for a Sunday morning.”

I snorted, then looked over my shoulder at the hallway mirror one more time. The denim coat Jo had loaned me was just long enough to conceal the fact that the borrowed slacks I wore had fake back pockets: button flaps, and no real pocket under them. From the front, they looked almost like standard Levi’s, but the rear view had the girly detail I could learn to hate.

“I can’t believe this is the only pair of pants in the house that fits,” I complained.

Joanna grinned an evil grin. “You could always wear the stretchy lilac ones,” she jibed. “Lycra is the wonder fabric.”

My face still hurt too much to glare at her again, but I did anyway.

She handed me my wallet and keys. “You left these in the bathroom.”

I groaned. “Where am I going to keep them?” I said, trying not to sound whiney. “And don’t say you have a purse I can borrow!”

Still grinning, she made a practical suggestion instead. “The coat pockets are big enough to hold your stuff.”

I nodded, a bit relieved to discover the reality of the pockets in the coat. I stowed things away without too much difficulty.

My lip wanted to tremble, but I faced the mirror one more time. “Joanna,” I sighed. “Do I look okay?”

She nodded.  “You look fine, Petey. Very butch. Macho even.” She held her elbow at a right angle and pretended to make a muscle.

I rolled my eyes and headed out the front door. Joanna followed me for a bit. “Lee isn’t picking you up till three,” she called out. “Where are you going to hang out?”

I shrugged. I would probably go home and try to hide in my room. Maybe I could call Lee and cancel this not-a-date. I walked the half-block to where I had parked the car last night, climbed into my baby blue Capri and started it up, still trying not to think about where I really wanted to go.

I needed Megan or Jake. Joanna being a friend now wasn’t real in the same way. She liked needling me too much, and everything was a joke to her. I guess a leopard can’t change its stripes overnight, and Jo was still a spoiled rich kid, even if she wasn’t as much of a bitch as I had thought before.

I felt my lower lip threatening to tremble as I steered the car out to the highway. Jake was closer.  Megan lived at the other end of town–and besides, we’d said a firm-sounding goodbye last night.

I didn’t think I’d cry in front of Jake.

I hoped I wouldn’t cry… but I couldn’t be sure.