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High-Tops to High Heels: Part 4
🕑 Added 2023-07-08 12:59:01 +0000 UTCA few blocks away, Josh Delacroix was having a pretty great day. His dad had let him borrow the convertible for the weekend, and it was top-down kind of weather. The sunshine was warm, the breeze was ruffling his hair, and he was humming along to the radio as he drove towards the Green Lake Shopping Center. He was planning to go shoot hoops later, get a work-out in, maybe swing by a Saturday night house-party.
Oh, and he was currently on his way to take Bobby Vickerson out on a date as some kind of extended YouTube prank. He had seen a video of the bet on his feed, fifty free throws in a row, loser got a makeover, something goofy like that, and hadn’t thought much of it. Bobby was a baller, he could admit that much, but the little guy also let himself get distracted by too much off-court drama.
Josh was more a fan of keeping his head down -- the hard work, even keel, slow-and-steady approach. He had dreams of playing college ball and then pro, of course, but he was also realistic: if it didn’t work out he could always fall back on getting a computer sciences degree. No, Josh wasn’t about drama.
But Bobby’s ex, Kimberly Quinn, that cute blonde cheerleader, had begged him to get just a tiny bit involved in this particular instance. He had to admit that last week’s loss to Jefferson High still stung, especially with the memory of all Bobby’s trash-talking, so he had agreed. He figured it would be at least somewhat satisfying to see the ultra-cocky Bobby Vickerson in drag.
As he pulled up to a red light, his phone buzzed. Checking around surreptitiously for cops, he held it up and pushed the new message notification. Kimberly had sent him a video. He pushed play on the blurry thumbnail image, only mildly curious.
The video had been taken in the bathroom, the time-honored favorite setting of girls taking selfies, and it was probably the mall bathroom, judging by the big mirrors and bright lights. But the Instagram baddie holding the phone was not Kimberly Quinn. She was blonde, and she was hot, clad in a midriff-bearing Nike top and flouncy little miniskirt, but she was definitely not Kimberly.
“Hi, I’m Barbie Vickerson!” the girl said, in a high-pitched breathy kind of voice girls always put on when they were trying too hard to be sexy. She played with her blonde hair, cocking her head to the side and pouting her puffy, gloss-coated lips. “And I’m about to go on my first date! Wish me luck! Kisses!”
The girl blew a kiss to the mirror, and just before the video ended Josh heard an eruption of female laughter from off-screen. Unable to believe what he had just seen, Josh played the video again. And again. And one more time, for good measure.
HOOOOONK!
Josh nearly jumped out of his seat. The light in front of him was green; the car behind him was none too happy with him. He tossed his phone onto the passenger’s seat and gave an apologetic wave as he hit the gas, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying downwards every few seconds to the picture of the stunning blonde frozen on display.
#
Kimberly showed the cheerleaders the video of Bobby’s makeover while he sulked at the other end of the food court table. His gaze was fixed firmly on the table and he hadn’t spoken since being goaded into shooting the bathroom video -- he had cracked under the pressure of seven attractive girls begging him to do it, but clearly regretted it now. As for the not talking, it was probably half anger and half anxiety over his voice. Kimberly had assured him his ridiculous “sexy girl” impression was spot-on, but her laughter had probably given him suspicions.
Since he wasn’t talking, however, his body language was twice as loud, and Kimberly was delighted to see Bobby’s nervousness actually helping to unwittingly reinforce “Barbie’s” image. Overwhelmed by the barrage of new, very foreign feminine sensations, he was constantly playing with his bracelets, frowning poutily at his claw-like nails, tossing his hair out of his eyes, fingering the big gold hoops in his ears, tugging at his top and adjusting his skirt. A guy doing those kinds of things did them out of nervousness, but a girl as aggressively hot as “Barbie” only did them for one reason: getting attention.
Every time he touched his hair, it screamed “I just came from the salon, look at me.” Every time he played with his jewelry, it screamed “My boyfriend is rich and he just keeps buying me stuff, and you should look at me.” Every time he checked out his nails, it screamed “These are so not practical, but they’re sexy, and you should definitely look at me.”
Tugging at his top? “I’m a gym bunny and my tummy is so much flatter than your girlfriend’s, go ahead, check me out.”
Adjusting his skirt? “My legs are gorgeous, and I wax, and you should be drooling over them.”
Constantly fluttering his false eyelashes and wearing a permanent pout? “I’m 90% sure I’m a goddess, but it would help me know for sure if you, like, looked at me? Pretty please?”
She could see why he was so intent on his nails, since every time he so much as glanced up, his ego was blasted by the fact that every straight male in the food court was ogling him. Normally Bobby Vickerson got attention for what he actually did, for his exploits on the basketball court, but all of a sudden he had been reduced to eyecandy. Grade A eyecandy, sure, but eyecandy none the less.
In fact, since entering the food court, she had already seen five guys completely miss their mouths with their forks, two guys walk obliviously into chairs and try to play it off, three guys trail off mid-sentence and completely fail to find their way back… Well, you got the picture. To the uninitiated observer, the Orange Julius had been graced by a whole pack of hotties, and “Barbie” was the queen bee, a flawless blonde beauty so obsessed with her appearance that even an afternoon outing to the mall required professional-quality makeup and hair, sexy jewelry, a revealing outfit, and head-turning high heels.
Kimberly had magnanimously bought Bobby a mango smoothie, his favorite flavor, to help calm him down. After all, if he hyperventilated, passed out, and got rushed to the hospital, he wouldn’t be able to squirm with the humiliation of going on a date dressed as a girl with his biggest cross-town basketball rival.
She watched him sweep a tendril of blonde hair out of his eyes with one glittery pink claw as he sucked away at his orange straw. He definitely looked the part, but she realized now that looking so hot might actually be to his detriment. A lot more attention meant a lot more scrutiny, and the little things were bound to give him away. For instance, he had already poked himself with his new nails a half-dozen times.
Kimberly checked her phone -- Josh should be showing up any second now. In fact, that guy jogging up the escalator looked to be wearing a Saint Ceylan’s track suit.
“Hey, Kimberly!” Yep, it was Josh Delacroix, right on time. “Hey, ladies.”
The cheerleaders immediately perked up. Josh was the tall, dark and handsome type, and Kimberly had to admit she had checked out his bulging biceps more than a few times during the games. Whereas Bobby was scrawny, Josh was big and muscular already -- part of the reason she had picked him, besides the whole rival thing. She loved that he was even wearing his Saint Ceylan’s track suit.
“Hey, Josh,” Kimberly said. “Did you come from the gym? You’re a little flushed.”
“And buff,” Ally added in a stage whisper. “Like, really buff.”
“Oh, yeah, straight from the gym,” Josh grunted, wiping his forehead. “Sorry. So, uh, where’s Bobby?”
Kimberly pointed over to where Bobby was hunched over his mango smoothie, and looking like he might take the lid off and attempt to drown himself in it. At the sight of his rival all dolled up like a blonde Barbie doll, Josh’s jaw went momentarily slack. Kimberly didn’t blame him -- she knew the little video they’d sent Josh didn’t compare to the real deal by a longshot.
“Barbie, come say hi to your date,” Kimberly said. “You agreed no complaining, remember?”
With the expression of someone on their way to the electric chair, Bobby got off the stool, bracelets tinkling prettily as he fought back his miniskirt’s latest attempt to ride even up on his tanned thighs. He stared down at the floor of the mall through his fluttery black false eyelashes, unwilling to meet his rival’s stare.
“Sup,” he muttered.
“Dude,” Josh said. “Whoa. Uh, I thought the video was all filter. You look, uh… Uh…”
“Hot?” Beverly supplied, smirking. “Especially when he’s sucking on that straw, right?”
Blushing furiously, Bobby immediately turned over his shoulder, and hurled the smoothie into the nearest trash receptacle -- even with long nails, he still had a shooter’s touch. For a brief moment he had the old Bobby Vickerson look of triumph on his prettily made-up face, but then, remembering his current situation, he adjusted his skirt, folded his arms, and returned to glaring at the floor of the food court as if it had personally wronged him.
“Ooh, nice shot,” Daphne teased. “Just think, if you’d managed to shoot like that for the bet, you wouldn’t be Josh’s little Barbie doll right now.”
“Maybe he missed that one on purpose,” Ally added.
Kimberly nearly choked, but managed to keep a straight face, noting with no small satisfaction that the other cheerleaders were taking another, more critical look at Bobby, wheels turning in their heads as they considered the possibility of Jefferson High’s star point guard losing the bet intentionally. Deciding to twist the knife even more, Kimberly gave Bobby a little push in Josh’s direction.
“Barbie, your date thinks you look hot,” Kimberly said. “What do you say?”
Bobby gritted his teeth, still unable to make eye contact. “Thank you.”
“Girl voice!” Kimberly reminded him. “Do you want people to read you as a guy in drag?” she added, a little more loudly than necessary.
“Thank you,” Bobby said, glaring daggers at her but this time in a slightly-improved version of his breathy girl voice, obviously judging the embarrassment of speaking this way to Josh less than the embarrassment of anybody else in the food court realizing he was a guy. “That’s so sweet, or whatever.”
Interestingly, Josh Delacroix was blushing even harder than Bobby was. She had assumed he was used to being around hot girls, what with being a basketball star, but maybe he still got nervous going on dates, and “Barbie” was triggering his hot girl panic button despite him knowing who it really was.
“Well, as soon as my date shows up, we can get out of here,” Kimberly said sweetly. “I know it might seem a little weird double-dating with an ex, but I think we’ve both moved on. Right, Barbie?”
“Wait,” Bobby squeaked, narrowing his eyes. “If I’m Josh’s date, who’s your date?”
“Bro! Holy shit, look at you, bro!” DeShawn Baker, Jefferson High’s starting power forward and Bobby’s teammate, came bounding up to the table. “I mean, I thought the video was all filter, you know, bro?”
DeShawn had been a late addition to the plan, but she had realized, while missing Bobby’s makeover at the salon, that there was no way she could miss watching Bobby’s date with Josh and still live with herself. So, she’d made it a double-date, courtesy of DeShawn, who was pretty loyal to Bobby but still thought the whole thing was hilarious. He had also been sending her thirsty messages on Instagram ever since she and Bobby broke up, which might just come in handy later.
“You’re in on this, too, bro?” Bobby groaned, momentarily forgetting his “girl voice.”
“Hey, no way,” DeShawn said. “I’m just here for moral support, and making sure this St. Ceylan’s dude doesn’t get fresh with my sexy point guard, you know?” He offered a fist-pound, which Bobby, tucking his glittery talons under his hand, grudgingly did his best to return. “Bro, you sure that’s you? You look fire, girl. Bro.”
Kimberly smirked. “Barbie, DeShawn thinks you look fire. What do you say?”
#
Once they bid adieu to their adoring audience, who were taking plenty of last-second photos for Snapchat and Instagram, Kimberly led the way to the third level of the mall, where she had booked them a game of mini-putt. She had chosen the stage for Bobby’s humiliation intentionally: their very first date had been here at the Go-Go Green Lake Mini-Putt. And, as she later discovered, so had his very first date with every other girl.
Of course, the dramatic irony was probably lost on Bobby, who had a thousand-yard stare as he walked along with his date’s big strong arm wrapped around his little waist. Kimberly had let him choose between that and holding hands, claiming it was for the sake of realism: “You want to look like a normal girl on a normal date and not draw any attention to yourself, right? Plus, this way you don’t have to worry about other guys hitting on you.”
It probably helped that Josh, rather than gloating, looked almost as nervous and embarrassed as he did. Misery loved company, and Bobby was clearly not a fan of the idea of getting hit on by another unwitting male, so he had submitted to having his rival’s hand resting on his bare lower back as they walked along, complaining only occasionally, in a whisper, about his “clammy freaking hands.” DeShawn was only too happy to follow suit and put his arm around Kimberly’s shoulders, which she accepted with her sexiest smirk in Bobby’s direction.
Watching her ex mince along on another guy’s arm, managing his high-heeled cork wedge sandals and flouncy miniskirt and designer purse and long blonde hair, was everything she’d hoped it would be. She could see his male ego getting eaten away a little bit more each time his hoop earrings brushed his pretty cheeks, his skirt rode up his thighs, his bra straps tugged at his shoulders... Oh, and definitely every time Josh gently steered him by the small of his back, unconsciously treating him like a real girl.
“Bro, I just gotta say it, Kimberly did some work on you,” DeShawn said. “I mean, you if I didn’t know better, I would think you were actually a…”
“Shh!” Bobby put a furious finger to his collagen-plumped lips, nearly stabbing himself yet again with his manicure. “Jesus, DeShawn!” he squeaked in his ridiculous falsetto.
“Right, right, sorry, bro,” DeShawn said, lowering his voice as they approached the mini-golf ticket booth. “I mean, bro-ette?” He looked around, puffing out his chest. “Man, I am having a blast on this totally normal double-date!”
The greasy-haired college kid in the booth raised an eyebrow. “Uh, cool. You guys book ahead, or…?”
Kimberly took one last glance at her ex, who was fidgeting in his high heels while also glaring daggers at his power forward, then confirmed her booking and grabbed putters and golf balls for everybody. Naturally, she selected Bobby a bright pink one that was just a little on the short side. When she came out, DeShawn was still talking to the mini-golf attendant, while Josh and Bobby looked almost equally mortified.
“Kimberly’s a girl, Barbie’s a girl, me and Josh are guys!” DeShawn said, pointing to each of them in turn. “Two dudes and two chicks! Classic double-date.”
“Uh, yeah, cool,” the college kid said, bewildered. “First hole is right over there.”
“Not that there is anything wrong with non-heteronormative double-dates!” DeShawn added as they walked away, still at volume for anyone listening in. “Just this particular date, it’s that classic variety! You know?”
Kimberly patted his arm. “Great cover, DeShawn,” she said, giving Bobby another smirk. “Keep that up. Definitely keep that up.”
#
Normally Bobby was the best at everything sports-related, mini-putt included, but from the very first hole it was clear things were going to be different this particular afternoon. The three-inch perch of his wedges, combined with the slightly-too-short putter, ensured that he had to bend down and shoot from an incredibly awkward angle. The first time he attempted it, he managed to flip his miniskirt up and expose a flash of lacy black underwear to Josh, whose eyes immediately bulged.
“Shit!” Bobby muttered, watching his ball careen off the first obstacle, totally oblivious to the “show” he had given his date. “I mean, uh, shit,” he corrected, in a girlier register.
“Hey, no worries,” Josh said. “It’s a par two, right?” He stepped up, and immediately sank a hole in one, which made Bobby’s expression go from “spurned prom queen” to “killer prom queen.” It didn’t help matters when DeShawn and Kimberly each got the hole in one in quick succession. Glaring at the pink golf ball, Bobby leaned forward to try again. This time, both Josh and DeShawn got a peek.
“Barbie, your skirt?” Kimberly said primly. “People can see your thong.”
Bobby blushed furiously under his makeup, straightening up so fast he nearly toppled over. When he tried again it was with his knees bent, waxed-smooth legs held carefully together. She could see him struggling to get a comfortable grip on the putter without his long nails getting in the way, and every time he hinged forward at the waist his blonde hair fell into his face. Bright red, he lined up his shot and tried again.
The little pink golf ball flew past the hole, bounced over the kerb, and rolled into the grass.
“Bro!” DeShawn was guffawing. “Par two, bro!”
Wearing a miniskirt or not, Bobby’s competitive nature was now fully engaged. He grabbed the ball out of the grass and took it back to the line to try again. Six putts later, by this time completely flustered and looking like he just might break down in tears and ruin all that expensive eye makeup, Bobby finally managed to get it into the hole.
“Good job, Barbie!” Kimberly said, in as saccharine a voice as possible. “I knew you could do it! But on the next hole, maybe we can just start you a little closer, okay?” She gestured to the dad and his two kids who had been watching the last few minutes of Bobby’s struggles. “There are people waiting behind us.”
“Oh, hey, it’s no trouble,” the dad said, flashing a friendly grin -- he had clearly been enjoying all the pouting and bending over. “We don’t mind.” He patted his daughter on the head. “Go ahead, sweetie. Remember to line it up with your toes.”
The little girl, who looked to be around six, skipped up to the hole with a grin. “You’re so pretty!” she beamed. “Are you really named Barbie?”
Bobby flushed an even deeper shade of red. “Uh-huh,” he squeaked.
The little girl gave a squeal of delight. “Barbie is my favorite!” she shouted. “Okay, gotta line it up with my tooooes…” She set her ball down, gave it a thwack, and made a perfect hole in one. “Woo!” she beamed. “Don’t worry, Barbie, my daddy can give you help if you like!”
It was all Kimberly could do to keep from busting her gut laughing. Bobby moved onto the next hole in mortified silence, too humiliated to meet Josh or DeShawn’s eyes, and things didn’t get any better from there. Watching her ex wiggle around the mini-putt course, missing shot after shot, at one point so frustrated he stomped his high-heeled foot like a beauty queen throwing a tantrum, was absolutely priceless.
She had been hoping Josh would loosen up and start having some fun at Bobby’s expense, what with all the times Bobby had taunted him on the basketball court, but for some reason the Saint Ceylan’s star seemed uneasy about the whole thing. Those forgiving, kind-hearted, do-no-harm types were no fun at all, but Kimberly was still getting her money’s worth. DeShawn had gone from amused to baffled by Bobby’s difficulties, and, along with a well-intentioned Josh and the single dad trailing behind them, started trying to give him advice.
“Bro, I mean, Barbie, you gotta use less backswing, bro!”
“Are you breathing out at the same time you hit it?”
“I think if you bent more from the waist, less from the knees…”
For the first time Kimberly could remember, mansplaining was music to her ears. Bobby was quavering under the pressure, overwhelmed by the barrage of conflicting tips and not willing to jeopardize his disguise in front of the dad and kids by telling everybody to shut the hell up. His hands were trembling as he gripped the putter. She knew he was close to either hurling it into the bushes and storming off, or possibly breaking down in tears. She preferred the latter, but either one would be pretty great.
Another miss. Bobby was now exactly 38 over par.
“Maybe sports just aren’t your thing, Barbie,” Kimberly said, poking the bomb. “But don’t worry! You’re good at sooo many other things. Like shopping! You always find the cutest outfits. Doesn’t she, guys?”
DeShawn stifled his laugh, while Josh gave a helpless grin and shrugged. Super-Dad behind them, however, went above and beyond by deciding to really try his luck. “Look,” he said. “How about I help you take a putt, so you can feel what it’s like to make a smooth stroke? I golfed semi-pro back in my college days, and I’m a pretty good coach.”
Kimberly blinked. Sometimes, the universe just seemed to bend to her will. “Great idea,” she said. “Barbie, I know you’re getting upset, so why don’t you let him show you what to do, okay, sweetie? That would be the girlish thing to do. You don’t want to act like a boy, right?”
“Well, that seems a bit sexist,” the dad said. “But yeah, I’m happy to help.”
This was it. The moment of truth. Bobby glared daggers at her through his fluttery black eyelashes, padded chest heaving with stress. Then, slowly, he turned and bared his perfect white teeth in what was probably meant to be a smile.
“Okay,” he said, in barely a whisper. “Uh, sure.”
Kimberly beamed, while the guys could only look at each other in shock as Bobby Vickerson, all-star athlete, got a mini-putt lesson. The dad walked up behind him, placing his much larger hands over Bobby’s dainty, manicured ones, and adjusted his grip on the putter.
“Could you move your hair a little?” the dad asked, apologetically. “I can’t quite see.”
Blushing furiously, Bobby brushed his long blonde tresses around to one side of his neck, an inadvertently very sexy gesture that made one hoop earring bounce against his cheek. The dad sidled up behind him, leaning forward so Bobby was forced to lean with him. Kimberly could see the look of resigned misery on her ex’s face get replaced by sheer horror. Bobby leapt forward and spun around, impressively agile despite his high heels, and bellowed, at the very top of his lungs, in a voice that was no way feminine:
“YOU HAVE A FUCKING HARD-ON?”
Stunned silence fell over the entire Go-Go Green Lake Mini-Putt facility. Every single head, from the birthday party on Hole #3 to the stoned college kids on Hole #18, was turned in Bobby’s direction, trying to make sense of a guy’s voice coming out of a hot blonde’s mouth. DeShawn and Josh both looked ready to cut bait and make a run for it.
Wordlessly, the dad reached into his pocket and took out a bulky, old-fashioned cell phone. “I should, uh, probably upgrade,” he said.
But the damage was done. The mini-putt attendant was already running up to them. “Not cool, guys,” he said. “No profanity and no hard-ons are permitted at Go-Go Green Lake Mini-Putt. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“That’s totally understandable,” Kimberly said, beaming. “Don’t worry, we’ll still leave a great review. We got exactly what I came for.”
#
After the mini-putt disaster, Josh and DeShawn were quick to take off, and Kimberly, sensing she had reached the limits of Phase One -- pushing Bobby any further was likely to result in a homicide -- took her ex to the nearest bathroom to help start the “de-girlifying” process. The handicapped bathroom had a lock on the inside, which would prevent anybody walking in, and as soon as they were inside he kicked the high-heeled sandals off his feet.
“Watch it!” Kimberly snapped. “Those are expensive!”
“They banned me for life!” Bobby snapped back. “That was my number one date spot, and now I’m banned for life, and the staff all think I’m some kind of transvestite, Kimmy!”
“Kimberly,” Kimberly corrected. “Now, do you want my help, or not?”
Bobby gave a sulky nod. He was still shaking with rage and embarrassment as she helped him remove his wig, fake nails, and false eyelashes. It was a little depressing watching him wipe away the makeup, helping her own personal Barbie doll go back to boyhood, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that it was a temporary break. Phase One had been a smashing success, and Phase Two was going to be even better. Besides, she would still see some very visible traces of “Barbie” until the collagen injection wore off and his tweezed eyebrows grew back in.
Irrationally, but perhaps not surprisingly, Bobby was redirecting most of his ire towards Josh. “I am going to freaking destroy him next time we play Saint Ceylan’s,” he fumed, scrubbing the last of the eyeshadow away with way too much remover. “Acting all innocent! He was loving every second of that, believe you me. Being nice, that’s his way of rubbing it in. Fucking asshole!”
Kimberly had seen nothing of the sort, of course. Josh Delacroix was, unlike Bobby, a genuinely nice guy, so it made sense Bobby hated him. She figured there might be some underlying jealousy going on, as well. Bobby got the best of Josh on the court, but Josh looked the part of basketball star in a way Bobby never would -- while Bobby had to prove himself in the gym, people took one look at big tall muscle-bound Josh and assumed he was a big deal.
But maybe she could take advantage of that. “Can you imagine if Josh lost a bet like that?” she asked innocently, removing the first of his hoop earrings. “He would look completely ridiculous. He’s way too buff to look like a girl.”
Bobby jerked backwards, sending the earring flying. “I’m buff!” he snapped. “I mean, I’m not bulky, obviously, I’m more cut...”
“Yeah, I was actually talking to him about his work-out regimen before he met us at the mall,” Kimberly lied. “He says he used to be pretty skinny, but he takes protein powder every day and hits the gym every second day, and I guess it’s worked out pretty well for him, you know?”
“I don’t need big muscles to kick his ass on the court,” Bobby snapped.
“Oh, I agree,” Kimberly said. “Besides, this weight looks good on you. I mean, you must be like, a size zero? If you were big and buff, you wouldn’t be able to wear that cute top and miniskirt.”
Bobby went back to inarticulate fuming as he took his clothes into the stall. The top, skirt, and underwear came flying over the top a few moments later, and a minute later he emerged, dressed once again in his hoodie, sneakers, and skinny jeans. He pulled the hood down as far as he could, trying to hide his brows, and stared at himself in the mirror. No doubt he, like Kimberly, was still seeing traces of “Barbie.”
“You know, up until the cell-phone hard-on, you were being a pretty good sport about all this,” Kimberly said. “You sure you didn’t enjoy any of it? At least a little? I mean, all the hot beauticians fawning over you, come on...”
Bobby turned around with dead certainty on his face. “No, Kimberly, I did not freaking enjoy it. I’m a freaking guy. Hope you had your fun, because I’m not getting within ten miles of a salon ever again. I don’t care if I have, like, fatal toenail fungus. Speaking of which, how do I get this polish off my toes?”
“I forgot to bring remover,” Kimberly said with a shrug.
“Yeah, I bet,” Bobby snorted. “You driving me home, or what?”
She had actually been telling the truth: in all the excitement of turning Bobby into “Barbie,” she hadn’t been thinking about undoing it all. But she certainly didn’t mind leaving her ex with one more reminder of his big day, and the idea of him having to go buy nail polish remover at the drugstore or rummage through his mom’s bathroom cabinet gave her a sneaky thrill.
As they stealthily exited the bathroom and made their way out of the mall, Kimberly noticed that, even back in his boy clothes, Bobby was totally unable to meet anybody’s eye. The cheerleaders had left to Beverly’s house, to steal liquor from her step-mom’s secret cupboard, but Kimberly had already gotten several messages from them demanding to know what exactly had happened at mini-putt -- word got around fast in Green Lake.
Bobby stewed the whole way home, vowing he was going to burn the Go-Go Green Lake mini-putt to the ground, put up fifty points next time Jefferson High played Saint Ceylan’s, and freeze out DeShawn on every single play as a penalty for witnessing his humiliation. Kimberly found herself slipping back into her old role of nodding, agreeing, and nodding some more. It was a little disturbing to her, actually, how normal it felt. “Barbie” was gone, and Bobby was back to his usual dickish ways.
“Your Mom and Dad aren’t back yet?” Kimberly asked as they pulled onto the empty driveway -- she could see the mail piling up on the porch, which Bobby never bothered to bring inside when his parents were away.
“Still in New York,” her ex muttered. “Reminds me, I need them to put more grocery money on my account.” He yanked out his phone, and his eyes bulged. “Fuck, I’m still getting tagged and retweeted left and right. I’m in the freaking video, why are people trying to show it to me? Bunch of idiots…” He scrolled downward, and his eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me?” he said faintly. “She can’t even ‘like’ the clip of my game-winner, but she comments on this?”
Kimberly could guess that “she” was another of Bobby’s old flames, brought out of the woodwork by the “Barbie” video and looking for a chance to get in on the embarrassment. Her ex had an almost wistful expression on his face for a moment, then, seemingly remembering where he was, he regained his earlier snarl.
“Well, I hope that was everything you hoped it would be, Kimmy,” Bobby snapped, getting out of the car. “Because people are going to forget about this dumb Barbie shit in a week. Okay, a month.” She could hear the confidence returning to his voice as he pumped himself up. “All I have to do is hit a few more big shots, and I’m Jefferson High’s big hero again. That’s the Bobby Vickerson experience, baby.”
He slammed the door and headed up the steps to his house, already walking with his old swagger. It was almost impressive how fast he seemed to have shaken the whole thing off, but Kimberly was going to make sure it came back with a vengeance. As soon as she was home, she flipped open her MacBook and logged into the LiveJournal account she’d made as “bboy2003.”
“Today was literally like a dream come true… I can’t give any specifics, or post any photos, even though I wish sooo bad I could, but basically I got the chance to go out in public, as a girl, and it was freaking amazing! Just like on Halloween, I had to pretend I was hating it, but let’s just say I didn’t miss by accident, haha.
The coolest thing is, I passed! I mean, my voice really needs work, and I probably should stick with flats instead of heels until I practice more, but if I didn’t talk at all people actually thought I was a regular girl at the mall, and some people (boys!) were actually checking me out, I swear to God. Unless they could tell? Oh, frick, now I’m scared they could tell. No, no, they were definitely checking me out.
I know this is crazy, but today gave me such a huge confidence boost I think it’s time to take the next step. I’m going to start taking hormones! My friend helped me get my hands on some, and I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. I know it’s going to make it harder for me to stay “undercover,” but maybe that’s a good thing? #BOY2BABE #MINIGOLFMINISKIRT #STRIVE4REALNESS.”
Satisfied, Kimberly pressed enter and watched another piece of the plan fall into place.
