Chapter 11: Chapter 11 – Gaining Momentum

Mack gazed out the car window watching the scenery go by. Not much had been said between Lance’s father and her. She was surprised he didn't recognize that she wasn’t really his son. She guessed the hat and sunglasses did just enough to mask her real identity.

“Hey chief, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to spend quality time together today. I thought for sure we’d get time to ourselves, but my boss needs a project done by the end of the weekend.”

Mack was unsure how to answer that. She tried to deepen her voice. “It’s OK, Dad.”

“Is something wrong with your voice?” he asked, quickly shifting his glance from the road to her and back. “Are you coming down with a cold?”

That was the opening Mack needed. She coughed out, “I think so. Maybe I should spend the day in my room so you don’t catch it.”

He nodded. “What’s with the sunglasses?”

“They just look cool.”

“Are you crying? Remember, guys don’t cry.”

Mack had a disgusted look on her face that he didn’t notice. “Sure they do.”

“Listen, I know this move has been hard on you. I’m doing my best without your mother. It’s just, I’m not her. I’m not capable of that type of maternal care. Don’t let that girl you like see you cry.”

That was a lot for Mack to unpack, but she decided to let it go so as to not get Lance in any trouble with his dad.

* * *

“I can’t believe my dad kidnapped Mack,” Lance said in the passenger seat of Zoey’s car. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“Well, maybe he really thinks she’s you,” she surmised.

“Well, I mean he does have poor eyesight. But how can he mistake a girl for me?”

Zoey wanted to answer that but decided not to. Especially since the passenger in her car looked very much like a girl in a skater dress, wig, and makeup and hasn’t stopped talking in his girl voice.

“But now I’m stuck as Simone. Mack is stuck as me! What if we can’t swap back?”

“Lance, you’ve been Simone longer than a few hours before. Calm down.”

“Do you think he’s going to want a ransom? And what about me? They’ll say I was his accomplice!”

“He didn’t-” Zoey huffed. “Lance, get a hold of yourself. Has your dad done anything like this before?”

“You mean kidnapped someone?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Well, then, your dad isn’t a kidnapper.”

“Says the serial killer.”

“I’m not…” she grunted in frustration. “You’re not giving Mack credit for fooling him. She has lots of experience acting and cosplaying. She’s probably at your house playing your Game Boy right now and doing… whatever it is you normally do at home.”

Lance pouted at the reminder that all he did was sit home and play games. He crossed his arms under his chest creating a shelf for his breast forms. A mannerism he subconsciously picked up from watching the girls at school.

Zoey parked in front of Lance’s house.

“I can’t go in there,” he implored. “I ran into my dad earlier by accident. He thought I looked like my sister. Surely he’d recognize me up close.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Go up and tap on my bedroom window. Then she can come out, we can switch, and you both can go home.”

“Alright,” Zoey agreed, getting out of the car. As she was halfway across the lawn, the front door opened and Lance’s dad stepped out on the porch. Lance slid down in the passenger seat so as to not be seen.

“Can I help you?” Dad asked.

Zoey stood there like a deer caught in the headlights. “Yeah. I um. I’m here to see Lance.”

“And you are?”

“Zoey.”

“Ohh, Zoey,” he drew out dramatically. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You know, Zoey, you can ring the doorbell and use the front door.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Come on in,” he gestured toward the front door. "Would you like some soda or water?" 

"No, thank you, I'm fine." Zoey grinned and followed Lance’s dad into the house.

After the front door closed, Lance got out of the car and quickly ran across the lawn to his bedroom window. He peered into it and tapped on the glass. Mack came to the window and slid it open so Lance could climb in.

“Hey sis! So rude of dad to not drive us both home, right?” Mack giggled.

“Har, har,” Lance said with less enthusiasm. 

She held up his Game Boy. “I finished the level you were on.”

"Um, thanks," he replied, pulling off his wig, "I was stuck there for the last few days. Let’s quickly swap so he doesn’t get suspicious. Zoey’s in the living room talking with him now.”

Mack pulled off his shirt she was wearing and helped Lance unzip his dress. “How did it go?”

“It was a disaster,” he grumbled, stepping out of the dress. “Tyler showed up and then I had to rope in some guy I met at the mall and now we’re on a double date, and Olivia acts like she hates me.” He turned to face her and realized she was standing there in just a sports bra and panties. He turned away quickly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I do this all the time with other girls when we cosplay.”

He wanted to reply with, “But I’m not a girl,” but instead decided to lament about the carnival some more. “I wanted to go see Olivia and tell her the truth before we left - but then my Dad kidnapped you.”

Mack giggled at the word 'kidnapped'. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to talk to her on Monday.” She tossed his cargo shorts to him. "Don't you have her in one of your classes?" 

“Yeah, Chemistry. But I need to get out there to save Zoey,” he said, pulling the shorts over his panties to save time, then quickly sliding his shirt and shoes on.

“Don’t forget to wipe off your makeup,” Mack reminded him. "Oh, and by the way, I told Dad I was catching a cold and it was messing up my voice. You might want to drop a few sniffles or a cough or two to keep up the ruse."

Lance nodded.

“Oh.” Mack added. “I see why you’re hiding your true self from your father. At some point, you need to confront him about it.”

“What? I’m not hiding myself from him.”

“Just food for thought,” Mack said, climbing out the window. 

* * *

Zoey sat on the couch, fiddling her hands back and forth. This was an awkward situation that she’d never been in. She’d seen her own father do this to her previous boyfriends, but she herself had never been “the boyfriend” in this scenario. But wouldn’t that imply Simone was the girlfriend?

“So, Zoey,” Lance’s dad began, “what are your intentions with my son? You two have been spending a lot of time together. Are you two dating?”

Zoey turned red. True, they had been spending a lot of time together. She certainly found Simone to be attractive and fun to be around. “Not officially. I’m not even sure she likes me that way.”

“He.”

“Right. He. Sorry, I’m a little nervous.”

“I can see that,” he said. “My son is a little - how do I put it - fragile. He hasn’t had many friends, let alone girlfriends. I’m just making sure you’re not setting him up for heartbreak.” 

“Oh, no, sir. Lance has actually been pretty cool. Funny. Charming. And a perfect gentleman.” Zoey laughed inwardly at the irony of that last part. 

“He definitely seems happier since having met you.”

It struck Zoey that she had an opportunity to learn more about Lance’s family. For helping Lance’s disguise, of course, she told herself. “You have a daughter right?”

“Oh yeah. Simone. She’s still with my wife in California. They’ll be moving here after Simone graduates.”

“What’s she like?”

“Well Lance and Simone are fraternal twins. In some ways they are very much alike. Simone is the oldest by ten minutes. Lance has always looked up to her. He even mimicked her a lot. Simone was always the outgoing one, though. Lance was mostly content following her. That was until they went to school. Simone quickly made friends with many of the girls at school, but Lance as a boy was pretty much shunned from playing with them. Sadly he never really made friends of his own.”

“Well, he’s got one now,” Zoey smiled. “He’s been awesome. Kind and funny. I just went through a bad breakup and Lance has been very supportive.”

“I’m sor-”

Just then, Lance came out into the living room, dressed up in his boy clothes again. “Hi, Dad.” Dad gestured toward the couch. He gave a fake look of surprise when he looked at Zoey. “Oh, um, hi Zoey. I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Lance,” Dad explained, “I was just meeting your girlfriend, Zoey.”

Both Lance and Zoey looked at each other and turned red.

“Have a seat.” Dad motioned to Lance.

Lance sat next to Zoey. She held his hand. He used his free hand to cover his mouth while he faked a cough. 

“Are you two being safe?” Dad bluntly questioned.

“Safe?” Lance said, confused. He recalled all of the adventures and never once had they done anything dangerous. Then he realized what his dad was insinuating. “Dad!”

Zoey’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped.

“Sorry,” Dad tried to rationalize, “you know how teens are these days.”

“Dad, please stop embarrassing me,” a very annoyed Lance responded. 

“Well, then, I’m glad we had this little chat.” Dad quickly got up from his chair. “I need to go start dinner. Zoey, you’re welcome to stay. We’re having meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

Lance looked at Zoey for a response.

“Um,” Zoey hesitated. “Thank you, sir, I appreciate the offer, but my sister is waiting-

“In the car.” Lance whispered.

“-in the car. I actually just stopped by to borrow Lance's notes from Chem class.”

“Oh,” Dad said, a little dejected. “You can invite her to dinner as well. We don't get much company. But I apologize, my wife is the better host."

Lance looked at Zoey. He was worried that bringing Mack back into the house might raise his dad’s suspicions. He slightly shook his head so only Zoey would notice.

Zoey noticed Lance’s concern. “We really must get going. But maybe some other time.”

“Well, then, Zoey, it was nice meeting you…” Dad left Lance and Zoey alone as he headed for the kitchen.

“See,” Zoey assured him. “Crisis averted.”

They both stood up and Lance showed Zoey to the door.

Lance saw something shiny at the foot of the couch. “Zoe, you dropped your keys.” He bent over to reach for them.

As Lance bent down, Zoey noticed that his panties were peeking out above his shorts. She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, “Thank you for being such a doting boyfriend, but I can see your panties.”

He got embarrassed and quickly stood back up and pulled his shorts up. “I should finish getting changed.”

* * *

On Monday morning Lance executed his now seemingly normal routine of getting picked up by Zoey, then getting dressed in the landscaper’s shed. Today, though, he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He kept replaying the carnival events in his head, which distracted him as he got ready for school. When he finally entered the building, he realized he may have put his bra on too quickly. The straps were twisted and the cups felt crooked. 

He stopped in the middle of the hall, first fixing the straps through his top then adjusting the cups with his hands. A coughing sound caused him to look up to see the principal standing right in front of him, staring. He jumped back in surprise.

“Ms. Biggs, consider using the restroom next time,” he admonished, then walked off in the other direction.

Lance quickly apologized, “Sorry, Principal Silver.” Then he exhaled. That was a close one.

When he got to his locker, Lance found a pink heart-shaped paper on top of his books. He got excited hoping that it was from Olivia. Then he opened it:

“Simone, I had a great time on Saturday. -Chistopher”

Lance was disappointed that it wasn’t from Olivia. And he still needed to figure out what to do about Christopher. He collected his books and continued on with his day.

When he got to Chemistry class, he sought out Olivia, but she was chatting with someone else and purposely turned away as he approached.

A dejected Lance sat down next to Zoey. “She seems to be avoiding me.”

“It’s likely for the better,” Zoey offered, placing her hand on Lance’s.

The scowl on Lance’s face showed that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“What do you see in her anyway?” Zoey sounded kind of catty.

“She likes me for me. She doesn’t have ulterior motives. Our friendship appears real.”

Zoey was hurt. “Lance, I’m your friend too. And Olivia likes Simone. She's never even met Lance.”

“Well she met the real me at the Carnival briefly.”

“And did you two hit it off?”

“No. She was eager to leave.”

“See.”

“Would you be my friend if I wasn’t part of your bet?”

Zoey huffed. “Listen, it doesn't matter how we met. I genuinely enjoy hanging out with you. So does Mack. We’re all having fun. That’s real.”

“OK.”

You are reading story The Boy Who Would Be Prom Queen at novel35.com

Zoey saw how dejected Lance looked. “Listen, Simone, how about I take you out to get a mani-pedi later this week?”

“Is that supposed to help me somehow?” he responded cynically.

“It’s very relaxing. You’ll love it. My treat.”

* * *

Olivia was at her locker exchanging her morning books for her afternoon books when Tyler came up beside her.

“Hey babe,” he greeted her. “So what do you think about that Italian restaurant downtown?”

She forced a smile. “That’s fine.” In all honesty it wasn’t fine. She didn’t really want to go out with him. She was hurt. She was totally digging the vibes that Simone was giving off. Olivia made a move and kissed Simone in the funhouse. She remembered the look on Simone’s face. She was so cute. Then a few minutes later everything was ruined. Simone was with some guy she had just met. Olivia was never much of a reactionary person, but she felt immense jealousy in that moment, and wanted to lash back back at Simone. And that’s how she ended up agreeing to go on this double date.

She didn’t want to go on this date at all. In fact, she was avoiding Simone. She didn’t want to get hurt again. She knew putting herself out there only caused hurt. 

Should she cancel their date? Should she let Simone and Christopher have their date in private without her?

“Olivia?” Tyler interrupted her thoughts. “You were zoning out.”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“5:30 Saturday night? I can pick you up. Then we can go to Peggy’s party.”

This was her chance. Cancel the date and let Simone go. Or go on the date and see if she could make Simone jealous. Flashes of Simone at the carnival entered Olivia’s head and she got upset again.

“Yes,” she finally gave in, closing her locker door. “Sounds good.” She gave him a halfhearted smile.

* * *

When it was lunchtime, Lance got his food and sat down with Mack and Francine. He wasn’t hungry and pushed the blue stuff around his plate for a bit.

Mack and Francine were talking about a new D&D story Howard was working on and Lance largely stayed out of that conversation.

About twenty minutes in, a person sat next to Lance. He turned to see it was Christopher holding two cookies. 

“Cookie?” Christopher offered.

"Yes, it is," Lance glanced at the treat and deadpanned his reply. He felt a foot kick his shin under the table. He looked up to see Mack scowling at him.

"Would you like one?" Christopher repeated his offer. 

“No, thank you,” Lance declined. "That was really thoughtful of you, but seeing this cafeteria food has made me lose my appetite."

"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. Seriously, what kind of foods are blue, anyways?" 

“Who’s your friend, Simone?” Francine inquired.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Lance introduced his new friend, “This is Christopher.”

“Hi, Christopher,” Francine said. “I heard you two are going out this weekend.”

Lance forced a smile and wondered how Francine knew that.

“That’s what I came to talk about.” Christopher explained.

Lance got hopeful for a moment, “Please cancel it, please cancel it,” he thought.

“That guy Tyler came to talk to me and said we’d be going to dinner before heading to the party.”

“Why would he talk to you about it and not me?” Lance asked. He deduced that it was less likely for Christopher to change his mind.

“I dunno,” Christopher replied. “Maybe because I'm a guy? I don’t know him and was honestly quite surprised when he just came up to me.”

Lance rolled his eyes.

“I can pick you up at 5,” Christopher offered.

“OK,” Lance replied meekly. He had no idea how he was going to pull this off.

“Awesome!” he exclaimed.

“Hey, Christopher,” Lance asked, “can we get some private girl time?”

“Oh, sure,” he responded, quickly getting up and walking away.

When Christoper was far enough away, Lance turned to Mack. “I don’t want to lead him on,” he complained.

“Then don’t,” Mack replied. “Tell him the truth.”

“I can’t tell him the truth.”

“Yes you can. ‘Christopher, I’m not into boys.’ See. How hard was that?”

“But what about Olivia? She’d be stuck with Tyler.”

“Tell her the truth too. She’s a big girl. She can dump Tyler just like you can dump Christopher. In fact-” she giggled, “she can use the same exact reason.”

Lance didn’t know what to say. “Well, first she’d have to be on speaking terms with me. At least I know we’ll have to interact on Saturday.”

“Then I’ll come over Saturday afternoon to get you ready for your first date,” Mack pronounced, smiling.

* * *

As Zoey was getting changed for gym class, she walked by a bunch of girls she knew from her class who were giggling. “I’m not sure if she’s a girl or a guy,” one girl said.

Zoey stopped and looked at them. “And who are you talking about?”

The girls stopped, looking embarrassed. “That new girl. Simone.”

“Listen here.” Zoey said getting closer to them. “Simone is a girl. If I hear anyone bad mouthing her again, I will make your lives a living hell. Leave her alone.”

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it Zoey?”

“Bridgett, remember that goth phase in middle school? I have pictures.”

“You wouldn’t!” Bridget complained.

“And Meredith, I know what you do in the library every afternoon.”

Meredith shrunk down with embarrassment.

“She’s my friend.” Zoey added. “And if you hear anyone else bad-mouthing her, remind them of that. She’s mine.” She tossed her hair and walked away.

* * *

Lance followed Zoey as she escorted him into the spa. The place was big and airy and very decorative. “How much is this?”

“Dont worry about it,” she dismissed. She stood next to a wall of nail polishes and grabbed a color from the shelf that Lance didn’t see. “What color would you like?”

“Color? For my nails?”

“Yeah, silly.”

“Zoey, I can’t hide painted nails from my dad.”

“Then we’ll just do a french manicure.” She smiled. 

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Simone. Sit. Relax.”

He did what he was told with a grumpy face.

A few minutes later, an attendant dressed in all white came out. “Miss Sellers? Miss Biggs?”

Both Lance and Zoey got up and followed the attendant into a dark, yet mellow, hallway and to a similarly dark room.

“Please have a seat,” the attendant instructed. “Your technicians will be with you shortly.”

“Simone, press the buttons on the arm of the chair,” Zoey suggested.

Lance did so and suddenly the chair started massaging his back. “OK, that is nice.”

“They have different speeds and different locations on your back you can focus on.”

Lance adjusted the settings to his liking then closed his eyes as soft soothing music filled the dim, incense-scented rooms.

Eventually two technicians came into the room and placed Zoey and Lance’s bare feet into hot bubbling water.

When they were alone again, Zoey asked, “So?”

“I think I’m going to fall asleep,” Lance blissfully replied.

“See, I told you you’d like it. Let all of the stress just fade away.”

“Umhmm,” Lance moaned, taking it all in.

The technicians returned and shined lamps onto Lance and Zoey’s feet and got to work on the pedicure. Lance watched intently, making sure someone didn’t accidentally paint his toes red. When they were done, Lance’s toenails were clean, smooth, and shiny with white tips.

Next up were their hands. The hands got a nice massaging bath too, but this made Lance even more nervous. He could hide his toes with socks. He couldn’t hide his fingers.

Zoey sensed his nerves. “Relax,” she urged.

Lance hesitantly closed his eyes as the technician cut, cleaned, buffed, and polished his hands.

“All done,” the technician announced. 

Lance opened his eyes and looked at his hands. He was amazed at how feminine they looked with the polished nails and their white tips. At first he smiled and admired them from all angles.

Zoey smiled at his reaction.

Then he freaked out. “My dad is going to notice this!”

“No, he won’t.” she countered. “Men rarely look at nails.”

“But-”

“What color were my nails this morning?”

“Umm…”

“Exactly.”

After Zoey paid and left a generous tip, they both walked out of the spa wearing disposable sandals.

After briefly stopping at Zoey’s house so Lance could change back into his boy clothes, they rode back to Lance’s house. During the drive, Zoey couldn’t help but notice Lance staring at his nails. She knew he’d love them. Even if he didn’t want to admit it to her.

When he got home he kept his hands in the pocket of his cargo shorts as he walked by his father.

* * *

Lance sat at his desk looking through the articles and tutorials Mack left for him. One of the things she left was a link to a website. 

He looked it up and it was a website dedicated to fictional gender transformation stories. He figured these would help get his mind into pretending to be a girl. He read a number of them. They all were the same. A seemingly normal guy gets transformed into a girl. He almost always falls in love with it and stays that way. He shrugged. He could see the appeal of this. Girls were cuter and more attractive anyway. Wouldn’t everyone want to be a girl?

One story he clicked on was about transformative jeans. The main character was a normal boy who found a pair of girls’ jeans. He put them on and slowly turned into a girl over the course of the story and started wearing more and more feminine clothes.

While reading that story, he kept staring at the storage bin in the corner of his room that hadn’t moved in two weeks. Simone’s clothes. 

He hadn’t opened it since the first day. But now, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He walked over and removed the bin’s lid. On top of the neatly folded clothes was a pair of Simone’s jeans.

He figured there was no harm in trying these on. He asked Zoey and Mack for jeans but they kept denying him. He remembered Mack had said something about tucking.

Lance closed the bedroom door and took off his cargo shorts.

As the jeans were half way up, he realized he couldn’t wear boxer shorts with them. He removed the jeans and took off his boxers. He fetched panties from his secret clothes drawer and pulled them up.

He put on the jeans. They fit nice and snugly. Like the story he just read, he looked at the mirror and admired how feminine they made his legs and butt look. There was only one problem. His bulge was very visible. Unlike the story however, it wasn’t not shrinking. Quite the opposite. He was still confused at why wearing girls’ clothes had this effect on him.

“Tuck,” he remembered reading, and returned to the computer to look up how to do it. After he read the directions he thought, “That can’t be possible, can it?”

He pulled the jeans and panties down to his knees. With a finger he fished around for the mysterious cavity the directions talked about. He struggled then gently pushed a testicle up into it. After a few tries, it went in and he was shocked. He repeated that with the other testicle, pushed his penis back, then pulled the panties and jeans back up.

He looked in the mirror and was amazed at how smooth the front of the jeans looked now. He placed one of his manicured hands on his upper thigh and smiled.

As he walked around the room, the tuck came free, but he was happy that this was a start and he now had the freedom to wear a new set of clothes - provided he read the directions on how to make ‘it’ stay tucked.

He was interrupted by a disembodied male voice from his computer: “You’ve got mail.”

He saw the new message. It was from Simone. He opened it and read all about his sister’s prom dress shopping quest and the one that loved her as much as she loved it. She used terms like bodice and A-Line, terms that Lance now had a basic understanding of. There was also an attachment. It was a picture of Simone in the dress back in her bedroom at his old house. He admired the way Simone looked as she modeled the dress. It clung in the right places, and showed off her curves in a classy way. The color was perfect. It would accentuate her eyes, and blend with her hair color.

Lance began to get starry-eyed, as he pictured himself wearing the dress instead of his sister. What it would be like to stand up on stage with the student body admiring their new prom queen. Girls clapping and cheering. Lance zoomed in so he could see the finer details of the dress. The delicate lace patterns. The satin that covered just enough. The swish-swish sound the dress would call out to everyone as he glided up to the stage, punctuated by the click-clacks from his heels.

Eventually Lance drifted back down to earth from the pillowy cloud he had been floating on as he dreamed about wearing the perfect prom dress. He knew what he wanted. He just didn’t know how to do it. Thankfully he knew who to ask.

Lance clicked the “Forward Email” button. He looked at the CD Mack gave him. It had her email address written on it with a Sharpie. He typed Mack’s address into the “To” field.

When he got to the email body, he typed: “Mack, I want to look like this.” Then he clicked send and realized what had started as a joke was becoming something he was looking forward to.

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