Double Date Dare -2- by Melanie E. (Patreon)

Sandy’s grin stretched from ear to ear as she bounced on her heels and squealed.

“I KNEW you’d look great!” She crowed, grabbing my hands and pulling me through her door and into the hallway. “And aren’t you glad I talked you into shaving your legs and arms first? It’d be a crime to cover those legs up.”

I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to point out all the ways in which I looked like a boy, from my big square shoulders to my adam’s apple to my knobby knees and the hair on my chest.

But I didn’t have big, square shoulders. They were soft and narrow. There were girls in our class with bigger adam’s apples than I had, and she was right about my legs, as I’d been loathe to discover in the bath after ridding them of the shiny hairs they had sported. I’d simply plucked the three that were on my chest, not seeing the point of risking razor rash above the neckline of the dress she had picked out.

By the time I’d blow-dried and brushed my hair and slipped on the pair of panties she’d left on the counter for me, I’d already consigned myself to my loss and determined that if I was going to lose, then at least I would lose spectacularly.

Braiding my hair was fun and something I wish I could do more often. The makeup took a couple of restarts before I got back into the groove, but even though I hadn’t put any on in over four years, it was like riding a bicycle, except bicycles don’t poke you in the eye when you miss your lashes with the mascara.

I’d refused a dress but agreed to a skirt and top. A plain white bra matched the plain white panties, add a flouncy midnight blue skirt with yellow and white flowers on it, and a plain white racerback tank top and BAM. Donny was gone, and in his place, I stood.

Donna Fairchild, back at large.

We’d managed to find a pair of shoes in her closet that I could wear, too. Of course, they were heels, though much like with the makeup, it only took a few faltering steps for me to remember the muscle movements it took to stay stable on such things. Even if the two-inch slingbacks were about an inch more than anything I’d worn when we had played dress-up years before, with each step, both literal and figurative, I could see the change in my posture and mannerisms in the floor to ceiling mirror on the back of Sandy’s door.

As Donny, I was a lanky nerd-boy. But Sandy and our moms had played for hours with drilling deportment and grace into a young me’s head, and all of that came flooding back just as naturally as the makeup had.

“Isn’t it a bit cold for this outfit?” I whined as I stood in front of the effervescent Sandy, making one last play for normalcy, or at least jeans.

“Maybe by the time we get home, I’ll grab you a jacket just in case. I want Mom to see you like this, though. We’ve both been trying to come up with an excuse to get Donna back for ages, and she’s going to be so happy when she sees you!” Sandy gave me another once-over, then frowned and poked my chest. “Your shape’s a bit off up here. What did you use to stuff the bra?”

“Nothing,” I told her, backing away from her probing finger. “It’s a padded bra, and you’re such a tiny-tits I didn’t think I needed to worry about it.”

“Bitch!” She snarled and gave me a light push. “Not my fault, is it? Come on, I’ve got some fillets we can drop in to beef you up a bit.”

“Beef me up?” I asked smirking. I held up my left arm in a bodybuilder-type curl and pushed up on my little bicep, making it as impressive as possible.

“Oh yeah!” She agreed, giggling as she did her own strong man pose before heading to her dresser. It took her no time to pull out a small box, open it, and take out two jello-like half-moons. “Pull your bra out for me.”

I did so and even managed not to flinch when she slid the chilly, almost slimy things in and grabbed my puppy fat and pulled it around and up to sit on top. When I let go of the bra and tank, I realized how right she was: the shape was definitely better, and the repositioned skin even gave me a bit of cleavage.

“Practice much?” I asked, giving her a wicked grin and feeling a bit more revenge was in order for her comments about my junk earlier.

“Ha. Laugh it up now, but Butch happens to like my itty-bitties. Plus, we both know you’re going to be getting plenty of practice in yourself between now and prom.” She giggled again. “I knew you’d look good, but I figured you’d try something to sabotage the whole thing and instead, you came out looking like a goddess.”

“I AM a goddess,” I said snottily, tossing my hair and vamping just a smidge. “’Sides, I knew it was a lost cause the moment I finished my hair, so I figured I should just roll with it.”

“See? You’re not as dumb as I say you are!” Sandy picked up my hands, looked at my nails, and sighed. “Mom texted me while you were getting ready and is almost here, so no time to do your nails. At least they’re clean and neat, though.”

I nodded. I’d clear-coated them the night before, so I knew they at least wouldn’t look bad.

As if we had summoned it, we both heard the front door open. “Sandy? Donny? Ready to go?”

“Coming, Aunt Julia!” I called back. Sandy was already out the door, so I followed her and closed it behind me.

Aunt Julia was waiting for us in the front room, changing out of her work heels into a pair of flats when we made it down the stairs. She gave us a confused look when we walked in, but then her face broke into a grin that was a perfect match for her daughter’s. “Well, well! It’s been a while since Donna was around, hasn’t it?” As soon as she had her new shoes settled into place, she crossed the room and gave first her daughter, then me, hugs. “First off, you look gorgeous. Second off, what did Sandra pull this time to get you prettied up?”

“Hey!” Sandy complained, though only half-heartedly.

I shrugged. “She didn’t pull anything, Aunt Julia,” I said, doing my best to convey my sister’s innocence with my own variant of puppy-dog eyes.

“Is that so?”

I nodded. “Would I lie?”

Silence.

It was Sandy who broke first. “I asked Donna if she’d double with me and Butch for prom. I bet her that if she wasn’t still drop-dead gorgeous when dressed up a bit, I’d go with her and leave Butch on his own for the evening.”

“I lost,” I added, pointing at myself as though that weren’t already entirely obvious.

Aunt Julia laughed. “If this is ‘losing,’ then I think you came out pretty well overall, hon.” She gave her daughter a stern look as she kept her arm wrapped around my shoulders. “So I take it that by ‘double’ you mean you’ve arranged for Donna to have an escort of the male persuasion?”

“Mom, get with the times. It COULD be a lesbian girl.”

“Is it?”

“No.”

“Uh, huh.” Aunt Julia gave me another serious look. “We’re cutting into dress shopping time, but hon, just tell me now, and you can go change and either come shopping with us or not.”

I looked into my aunt’s eyes, then at Sandy’s. She winced but nodded along with her mom’s words, as I’d expected she would.

I shook my head. “I’m fine with this,” I assured them. “I wouldn’t have come down the stairs if I weren’t. ‘Sides, as long as this ‘Ted’ knows the truth, I don’t have anything to worry about, right?”

“Oh, they’re setting you up with Ted, are they?” Aunt Julia gave her daughter another significant look.

“What about it?” I asked, suddenly worried.

Sandy blushed. “Ah, well, remember when me and Butch first started going out, how he asked me out?”

“Sure, you went over to talk to another boy he was with and – wait, THAT was Ted?!”

“Yeah?”

I remembered that day. Sandy had been staring at this guy for weeks, and when she worked up the nerve to talk to him, he’d blown her off. Butch had stepped up and started talking to her instead, and by the time she’d come back to our usual lunch table, she was grinning from ear to ear. It was a total meet-cute type of sitch.

“Damn, you’re right, he IS cute,” I found myself saying, getting a giggle from my aunt.

“I’ll take it from that answer that going with a boy is okay with you. Are you sure you want the rest of your school to meet Donna, though?”

“I mean, why not? If they ask, I’ll be honest about it just being for the evening; what’s the big deal?”

Aunt Julia narrowed her eyes. “Well, how do I put this. You don’t exactly look like a boy in a dress.”

“Duh? I don’t think Sandy would have asked me to do this if I did.”

Aunt Julia sighed. “That’s not what I mean.” When she saw my confused look, she continued. “You don’t just not LOOK like a boy. Even from the little I’ve seen since you got down here, Donna doesn’t move or talk like a boy either.”

I shrugged at that. “I mean, to be fair, I don’t act THAT different than I do when wearing boy clothes?”

“Nooooo,” she agreed. “But you’re not exactly Butch, literally nor figuratively. So it becomes more obvious when you’re in Donna-mode.”

Now it was my turn to blush. I did my best to force it down, though. “Yeah, well, if that bothers someone else, that’s their problem, not mine.”

Aunt Julia smiled. “Good enough answer, hon. Just be careful.” She gave me another little squeeze, then stepped over and gave Sandy another one as well. “So does this mean we’re getting two dresses today instead of one?”

“I guess,” I agreed, still not wanting to spend the money. My eyes grew wide as I gasped. “Oh, shit! I mean, crap! Sorry, Aunt Julia. Sandy, we forgot a purse!”

“Oh, gosh, you’re right! I’ll grab one for you. Is your wallet still in your jeans? I’ll grab it too. Be right back!” Sandy said that all in one breath and was already half-way back up the stairs before her mom or I could move.

Aunt Julie sighed. “That girl is going to be the death of someone one of these days.”

“I thought the phrase was ‘the death of me?’” I asked.

“Hah! I’ve survived almost seventeen years so far; I’m determined not to be the one she does in.”

I nodded in full agreement.