It’s late in the evening when Peter and his mother arrive home. Peter is back in his school pants and his mother says “Well that was nice wasn’t it? I wasn’t expecting to be taken out for a meal.”
Peter confesses that he wasn’t expecting that either. “You know Michael hasn’t got any boy clothes at all now!”
“You mean pants?” his mother replies as her son nods. “They’re hardly ‘boys’ clothes these days.” she reminds him for the umpteen-millionth time, “And you looked lovely in his dress… I might buy you one like that.”
Peter admits that he liked it more than any of his own dresses, but isn’t quite so sure if he’d want one of his own. “I couldn’t believe it when I had to wear make up too!”
“You didn’t waste any time jumping on the stool.” his mother grins. “And you’ve not exactly rushed to wash it off either.”
Peter blushes and gets up to wash it off, but his mother talks him into keeping it on until bedtime.
The following day Peter returns home from school and hooks his bag on the back of a chair, before making himself a drink. As of today, there are now five boys in his class wearing skirts leaving eight, including himself who continue to wear pants. Some of the boys who do wear a skirt are such sissies; with their pig-tails & ribbons and fluffy pink pencil cases. Others clearly wear their skirts under duress and carry a look of shame wherever they go.
Of late, Peter has been getting bullied by some of the girls for not wearing a skirt, which isn’t nice. He’s not the only boy they bully, but since his birthday party and the dress that went with it, he’s been targeted. There’s nothing weirder than being told you’re dressing like a girl by simply wearing pants. “I’ve always worn pants!” he’d retort, “A couple of years ago we never wore skirts or dresses.” he’d claim, just before a knee whacked his groin. It doesn’t happen everyday and sometimes not even every week, but in Peter’s mind, it’s better than wearing a skirt for school. He’s not alone as other boys get the same treatment. The teachers are fully aware but being an all female staff (apart from the cleaners), they simply feel the targeted boys are just making life hard for themselves. He hasn’t told his mum because she’d just use it as an excuse. He’s determined not to give in and end up wearing a stupid skirt everyday for school. Wearing a dress every Sunday is bad enough!
The following Monday, Andrew Carter turns up in a skirt. It looks like he’s been drugged, transformed then hypnotised as he was one of the least likely to comply with modern fashions. The girls gave him a round of applause when he entered the form room that morning. The previous Friday he was a typical scruffy lad with unkempt, uncombed hair, old baseball boots, baggy pants and an oversized jumper, over a badly tied tie and an un ironed and probably unwashed shirt. Today his hair has been washed, untangled, straightened and cut into a short, sharp bob. He wears a fitted blouse with his tie tied short and smart. A fitted jumper leads the eye down to his short pleated skirt, beneath which emerge a pair of slim smooth legs. On his feet is a pair of heeled lace up brogues. He walks confidently, takes his reception gracefully and sit at his desk displaying a confidence hitherto unknown to him. Everything about his appearance is perfect, and he clearly knows it.
Peter’s a liberal. If Andrew Carter, unlikely as it may seem wants to go sissy that’s fine… and at least he does it well. In the eyes of the girls he’s shot from zero to hero with his new look. On the one hand Peter thinks good on him, it’s a huge improvement on the distant, dishevelled demeanour he had last week, but on the other hand… it means there’s now six boys in skirts and seven in pants. Peter ponders the loose ‘deal’ he made with his mother and hopes it’s slipped her mind. For if one more boy gives in, thus tipping the balance, Peter has to wear a skirt too. Hopefully she’s forgotten all about it. He hopes. Hopefully. Hoping.
