A Surrogate Sibling Scene 6

Vincent cast me an appreciative smile before Mother started faffing with his fringe and his collar before standing back to admire us. Mother wanted pictures of him wearing his hat, without his hat, then with his blazer on, fastened and unfastened. I suggested I go and put my anorak on, but Mother dismissed my jovial suggestion and told me to stop being silly before faffing with Vincent again.
After a few snaps of myself and Vincent wearing his winter uniform, Mother tells me to get changed before I ‘ruin my new trousers’, then told ‘Sonia’ to go and try his PE kit on, which he’d clearly rather not do. Mother tells him that she needs to make sure everything fits as she sorts through the numerous cellophane packed items. “Shirt, skirt, knickers and socks.” she says as she bundles the items to together.
Vincent glances at me and rolls his eyes. I throw him a reassuring smile before we head for our bedrooms. It wasn’t too long ago that Vincent and I shared a bedroom, but since Mother turned him into Sonia, I’ve been sharing with Gregory … and Gregory ’s presence is evident in the mess I now have to put up with. I shut the drawers he’d left open before changing out of my school uniform and pull on my jeans and a t-shirt. I return to the kitchen and Mother asks if I’ve hung my shirt and trousers up properly. “Yes.” I reply before my eyes follow Mother’s towards the stairs.
“Oh very sporty.” Mother says to Vincent as he slowly descends.
“It’s too short.” Vincent gulps as he looks down at himself.
“It’s supposed to be short.” Mother replied. “Have you got your gym knickers on too?” she asks, prompting him to reveal the thick purple panties he wears beneath his pleated purple skirt.
I can still barely believe that there’s a school in which the boys have to dress like girls… and as I understand it, most of them are normal boys like me and Gregory … not pretend girls like Vincent. I can understand them dressing like girls if they’re in Vincent’s position, but when they’re not it just seems wrong.
“They’re lovely colours Sonia.” Mother says as she fusses around Vincent. As usual, Vincent just puts up with her faffing as he models his ‘outdoor’ PE kit. Alongside his pleated purple skirt, he wears thick woolly knee socks in green and a short sleeved polo shirt, also in green. The is embellished with the school crest embroidered over the left breast and wide purple stripes down each side, running from armpit to waist. Mother picks up yet another polythene wrapped item and hands it to Vincent. “This one’s for Gym I think.” she told him.
I watched as Vincent reluctantly returned to his room and yet again thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t me having to pretend to be a girl. I couldn’t be more thankful when Vincent returned wearing his Gym kit: a long sleeved purple leotard bearing a small school crest in the middle of its chest and broad green stripes up the sides. His two uniforms and his PE kit seemed bad enough, but a leotard and nothing else must be horrendous to wear if you’re a boy!
Why Vincent needs two PE kits I’ve no idea. At my high school we wear the same kit for outdoor and indoor sports and it seems to work. When Mother passes him another batch of items, I can’t help but exclaim, “Three PE kits!?”
“One for outdoor games, one for gym and one for dance.” Mother replied. “Plus a swimsuit.” she added.
“A girl’s one?” I gulped.
“Of course.” Mother replied before prompting Vincent to go and try on his ‘dance’ kit. Once he was out of earshot, Mother thanked me for not teasing my brother… or ‘sister’ as she put it. “She’s got enough to put up with when Gregory is being horrible to her.” Mother added.
“You can say that again!” I thought. Fact is, both I and Gregory have teased Vincent since Mother decided he should be a girl, but as Gregory ’s teasing and taunting has escalated into nastiness, I’ve eased off. If it was me having to wear girl’s clothes all the time, sleep beneath a girl’s duvet and wake up in a girl’s bedroom, answer to a girls name and act all girlie then I know I’d appreciate a bit of support. But what I can’t get my head round is why Mother continues pretending he’s a girl when it’s clearly the root cause of everything Vincent has to put up with.
I pat myself on the back for successfully containing my snorts and sniggers when Vincent descends the stairs wearing his ‘dance’ kit. His cheeks are crimson and rightly so. He wears another purple leotard, but this one has thin shoulder straps. Around his waist is a short purple skirt made from a fabric that can be seen right through. I question the point of it, but not out loud. His legs are clad in a pair of pale pink dance tights and for all intents and purposes, he’s dressed as a ballerina. The only thing he’s lacking is a tutu. Not surprisingly, Mother fusses over him the moment he lands on the kitchen floor. “I couldn’t work out this cardigan.” he said, drawing Mother’s attention to the green woolly garment that hangs limply from his hand.
“It’s a bolero.” Mother says as she helps him into it. It’s like a cardigan I suppose, but only covers his arms and upper back, those being the areas this leotard doesn’t cover. Again, I couldn’t imagine how Vincent must feel having to wear such a girlie outfit. It must be bad enough wearing that stuff in front of me and Mother, but wearing it in front of an entire class must be horrendous. Mother claims it’s OK because all the boys wear the same, but that would be of no consolation if it was me being sent to this ‘petticoating school’. After enduring a little more of Mother’s fussing and faffing than anyone could handle, Vincent is told to go and change. The way he bounds up the stairs suggests he’s keen to do so. He returns minutes later wearing one of his dresses and Mother starts faffing with his hair, tying it in bunches and fussing over how nice and pretty he looks.