Chapter 18: 18 ~ Harebrained Scheme

All I could do was sit there frozen, staring at Bex’s father like a deer in headlights - and I suddenly felt like I understood that expression a lot better, too. Because I definitely felt like I was about to be flattened by a truck.

Thankfully, Hannah had a quicker reaction. “That’s my friend Gwen,” she said, a hint of reproachfulness in her voice. “Dad, you know this, you’ve met her before.”

“I have?” he said. But then his face darkened. “You didn’t say anything about having friends over. Given the circumstances, I hardly think it’s appropriate for—”

“Dad!” she hissed, and then pulled him by the sleeve back into the hallway.

I still hadn’t moved, but my ears strained to make out the conversation. All I could hear was murmuring, but my brain leapt to fill in the gaps with worst-possible-scenarios.

What if I jumped out the window? I mean, it was only one story, right? How bad could that be? Why had I sent Mark back to the car, if he had been there, he could have caught me. 

On some level, I realized I was panicking, breathing too fast again. That’s the reason I was vividly imagining jumping out of the window, still wearing the stupid skirt, and landing in the arms of Mark who was carrying me like a princess, except I couldn’t quite focus on that and his face kept turning into that of Bex who was holding me, even though that didn’t make any sense, and…

I was broken out of my thoughts by Hannah slipping back into the room. “You okay?” she asked, looking a bit worried.

I stared at her, then at the door. Her dad was nowhere in sight. Had he gone to call the cops?

Hannah clearly saw the question on my face. “I told him you were a friend of mine.”

“Right, but… He believed that?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he pays much attention to who I hang out with. He was pissed about me not asking permission, but he could tell you had been crying. I figured we’d use that to our advantage. I made up a story about you being really upset because you just broke up with your boyfriend.”

“I did what?”

“He bought it, hook, line, and sinker.” She grinned. “What can I say? I can be convincing when needed. But on that note, I was thinking… maybe that very first plan isn’t so crazy after all. He’s fine with you sticking around for dinner, and maybe that gives you an opportunity to see my sister. We’ll have to figure out how to get you two some time alone to talk, but I think that could be managed.”

I gaped. She couldn’t be serious, right? “But…” I gestured at myself with one hand. “He’s never going to believe I’m a girl. You basically said as much yourself.”

Hannah winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” My eyes dropped, my mouth twisting with uncertainty. “That’s just how it is. It’s the truth.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I was wrong.” Hannah hesitated for a second, looking me over. “Here’s the thing: my dad sees what he wants to see. And for once, maybe we can use that to our benefit. Your hair is kind of short and you look a little uncomfortable, but you’ve got the right mannerisms down.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you come across way more as awkward teenage girl than crossdressing guy.”

“…I’m almost twenty.”

“Which makes you still a teen girl,” she said firmly.

“Well, okay,” I said. “I guess that’s technically true.” I blinked, something occurring to me a moment too late. “Wait, except for—” 

“The outfit is good,” she continued, ignoring me, “and he’s already seen you in it so it’d be weird to change now. But it’s better to try and take every chance we can get to make this convincing. How do you feel about makeup?”

How did I feel about makeup? Confused? Scared? Weirdly hopeful in this fluttery stomach way, but when I tried to think about what I would be hopeful for, my brain came to a shuddering halt?

“If it helps, then I don’t have much choice,” I muttered.

Hannah nodded. “Let me run to the bathroom and grab some stuff. God, I just got new eyeliner too, and now I’m giving it away again.”

“Huh?”

“It’s unhygenic to share eyeliner and mascara, so I’ll grab some unopened stuff to use for you, but then it’s yours now. You can pay me back later.”

“O-oh, okay.”

She grinned, clasping her hands together. “Don’t worry, this part is gonna be fun.” And then she practically skipped out of the room and down the hall.

Trying to settle my rattled nerves, I picked up my phone again. The other three had to be freaking out by this point, and if I was going to stay even longer in order to have the opportunity to talk to Bex, I should let them know.

G: i’m good and everything is fine but this is more complicated than expected
G: i need more time to get bex by herself to convince her to come with us
G: but her sister is on our side i think

Jenn: OK. Be careful, and text if you need a quick escape
Jenn: But I swear to god if I find out you’re just fucking around and left me alone with those two…

G: it can’t be that bad can it?

Jenn: Avery came back a few minutes ago and he was really freaked out about having to lie so much
Jenn: So Mark was trying to calm him down, and I guess one thing led to another
Jenn: And now the two of them are making out in the back seat and I had to go for a walk

I smirked.

G: good for them

Jenn: GREAT for them but not when I have to listen to it
Jenn: Bex better appreciate the sacrifices we’re making here

My fingers toyed with the hem of the skirt I was still wearing.

G: yeah

Was that what this was? A necessary sacrifice I was making on Bex’s behalf? I wanted to tell myself that, to buy into the narrative of everything being out of my control. There was some truth to it, too. Ever since I made the stupid mistake of knocking on the wrong door, I felt a little bit like I had been careening from one unexpected development to another. But... I felt kind of uncomfortable about that.

Not uncomfortable about, like, the clothes I was wearing. About feeling like it was outside of my control. That I didn’t get to be the one to make the decision, but instead I was just pushed into it by someone else. It grated on me. I wanted to be the one making the decision. I wanted to be the one to say ‘Yes, okay, help me dress up as a girl,’ or whatever. 

But then, this was all for Bex’s sake. Was I just getting all bent out of shape because I wasn’t the one in charge? Or, like, resentful that this couldn’t be about me? Wasn’t that kind of shitty and self-absorbed?

It just felt all sort of confusing and blurry. There were too many feelings involved: the way that I felt about Bex, the way that I felt about myself, the way that I felt about how everyone else in the world saw me. I wanted to just focus on Bex, because she was the important one here. She was the one hurting— who I had hurt, to be most accurate. But I couldn’t quite let go of the rest of it, not when everything seemed to be constantly circling around the same issues. 

And that wasn’t even mentioning what Hannah had told me. Now I had reasons to be uncertain that Bex would even want to listen to me. What if she refused? What if she too thought I had outed her on purpose, or even if she just realized exactly how I had been deceiving her and felt betrayed by that? I couldn’t bear the thought of having the consequences of my actions catch up with me now, only for Bex to be the one to truly suffer.

In all of the chaos, I just wished I felt like I had some certainty and control. Was that too much to ask?

“Okay, got the stuff,” Hannah said, appearing once again. She saw the look on my face and paused. “You okay, Gwen? You look… pensive.”

I took a deep breath. “Just thinking about some stuff. I’m fine.”

“Okay…” Hannah frowned. “Maybe I’m being too pushy here. This isn’t totally necessary. If you want, we can forget the makeup stuff and just do our best regardless. Or… I can probably still make an excuse about you being upset and needing to leave.”

I shook my head.

I couldn’t control anyone else. I couldn’t dictate how Bex’s father would respond, or even Bex herself. I couldn’t force her to come with me. But I could control my own decisions. I could make the choices that I wanted to make, and allow myself to trust in that. I wasn’t going to magically achieve any form of absolute certainty in this moment, but I could believe in myself and what I was doing or now. And maybe in seeing that, in seeing me, Bex could understand that she had choices too, if she wanted to take them.

“Do it, Hannah,” I said. “Everything. 100%. Make me look like a girl.”

She grinned and advanced, makeup brush in hand.
 

 

---

 

 

…So here’s the thing that they don’t tell you about makeup, particularly putting on eyeliner and mascara. You have to jam objects into your eyes. That’s practically a form of torture. And in this case, it meant Hannah was doing that, and though it wasn’t like I distrusted her, I got particularly antsy at having anyone else so close to stabbing me.

“Do you really have to do that?” I asked.

Hannah let out a frustrated sigh. “Quit whining. And stay still.” 

At least everything outside the eye area was pretty simple, although some of the brushes were kind of tickly. As time ticked by, I was a bit worried at just how much Hannah seemed to be doing, but this was for Bex, after all. I could endure all manner of minor indignities for her sake. And at least Hannah did seem like she knew what she was doing. After what seemed like ages, she pulled back, nodding to herself with a smile.

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“Is that it? Finally? You really do this every time?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “It would have taken way less time if you weren’t so twitchy. You really ought to learn to do it yourself.”

“Mmm.”

“Plus in this case I might have gone a bit overboard. On a normal day I just wear some eyeliner and mascara, but this is a special occasion, right? And Dad’s the kind of guy who expects women to wear makeup. Lucky for us you’re close enough to my skintone that I could use the same foundation.”

“Wait,” I said, mouth dry. “If you went all out, what do I look like then? Do you have a mirror?”

She looked askance at me. “Hmm. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What?”

“I think we both know that if we gave you a mirror, you’d either A., freak out and have a breakdown or B., have a whole bunch of dramatic self-realizations and honestly? We don’t have time for either right now.”

I wanted to protest, but begrudgingly had to admit that she was right. This wasn’t about me. I could experiment with makeup on my own time. Right now I needed to focus on my true goal here.

“As long as it’s enough to fool your dad,” I said.

“Don’t worry.” She paused, still gazing at me in contemplation. “Oh, wait, this too.”

She jumped up to go root through a box on top of her dresser, and returned with some hairpins. I wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing with my messy hair, but she pinned some parts back and when I went to touch it, she slapped lightly at my hands.

“There we go,” she said with satisfaction. “Trust me, you look very cute.”

And then I was busy blushing and stammering. She continued smirking at me for a moment, but we were interrupted by a voice, calling up from downstairs.

“Kids! Dinner’s about ready, please come down.”

Hannah and I shared a look. “Looks like it’s showtime,” I said.

“This is your last chance to back out, you know.”

I swallowed, but then put on a grin. “And waste all of your hard work? Never.”

“You’re a strange one, Gwen,” she mused. “But I like you. Now let’s go save my sister."
 

 

---

 

 

When Hannah and I came down the stairs, her dad was waiting at the bottom.

In all honesty, I don’t know what I expected from him, but it wasn’t quite… this. He was wearing a dorky apron that said ‘Hi Hungry, I’m Dad’ on it, and he looked anything but threatening. This was the jerk who had Bex all screwed up? He just looked aggressively normal to me.

“Feeling any better, hon?” he said, looking me up and down.

I did my best not to flinch, and smiled back tightly. “Yes sir,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Um. Sorry, my voice is kind of hoarse from… um. You know.”

He nodded, and reached over to rest his hand on one of my shoulders. I stared at it like it was a kind of bug, fighting the urge to slap it away. “Hannah explained what happened. And you know, I just wanted to tell you that I think it’s very important to stand up for yourself like that.”

I shot Hannah a glance of confusion. “Um. Thank you?”

“It’s a sorry state of affairs in the world today that not many girls are saving themselves for marriage.”

The look I was giving Hannah intensified into a glare. She shrugged helplessly and mouthed ‘Sorry.’

Her dad continued, unperturbed. “Any boy who would try to pressure you into having sex is a boy clearly not ready for a mature relationship. You’re far better off trying to find someone better. And there are plenty of fish in the sea. Who knows when you might run into the guy who’s right for you?”

“Thank you, sir,” I said through gritted teeth. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Now come on in and sit down! We’re having chicken casserole. You’re not one of those vegetarians, are you?” he said lightly.

I murmured something under my breath and followed him into the dining room. Hannah took a seat at one side of the table and noticed me still standing awkwardly, so she tilted her head towards a chair. I thankfully sat down. Meanwhile, her dad got to work bringing in a few dishes from the kitchen: some vegetables, rolls, and the aforementioned casserole. It smelled pretty good, but my stomach was so tense that I could barely imagine eating. 

There was still no sign of Bex.

Apparently that also occurred to Bex’s dad, because as soon as he had everything on the dining room table and he had taken off his stupid apron, he shot us a slightly embarrassed look. “One minute. We’ve been having some… troubles lately, but I’ll go see if I can get the last one of our happy little family down here.”

As soon as he left, I leaned over to Hannah.

“Anything else you forgot to tell me?” I whispered. “Like how I broke up with my boyfriend because he wanted to have sex?”

Hannah shrugged, wincing. “I didn’t think he’d actually say anything about it.”

“You should at least let me know before you drop any bombs on me.”

“Okay, fair.” She shifted in her seat, looking guilty. “There may be one more thing,” she said.

Uh oh.

“What?”

“So I was trying to convince Dad to let you stay, right? And we needed a way to get you some time alone with my sister too. So… I might have suggested that maybe having a good Christian girlfriend would help straighten my sibling out. And what with the other cover story, he knows that you needed a responsible man to date too.”

I stared at her. “So you’re saying this dinner…”

“Is sort of an excuse to set the two of you up, yes.”

And as I stared off into space, trying to process the implications of that, I heard footsteps in the hall.

“Oh, and we have an unexpected guest tonight,” Bex’s father said, talking to who he was with.

It was the second voice that I instantly recognized. “What? Who?” There was some strain I wasn’t used to in those words, but it was the same quiet, soft tones that I knew. It was the voice that from the beginning had set strange emotions fluttering in my chest. Now that I knew that Bex and Cerise were one and the same, now that I felt like I knew her even better, the sound of her voice again was almost too much to bear. Before I realized it, I was on my feet again, too nervous with anticipation to remain seated.

And then Bex rounded the corner and we came face to face.

As if from a million miles away, I could hear Hannah saying, “This is my friend Gwen, she’s having dinner with us tonight. Gwen, this is…”

But all I could focus on was Bex. I couldn’t tear myself away from her eyes - even though she no longer had the intensity that had previously transfixed me. She just looked so, so tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and posture slumped as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. But as she saw me, something flashed in those hazel eyes. She recognized me. Her face contorted in an emotion that I couldn’t recognize, because it was gone as soon as it arrived. Instead, she affected a guarded, neutral expression, hiding whatever shock she might be feeling.

“Hello,” I said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

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