Peter ran his hands down the pleats of his skirt, before bringing them to rest by his sides. “The rule is…” he began, “…the hem should fall between the tip of your thumb and the tips of your fingers.” he explained. “So this is about right, according to the regulations.” he said as his fingertips hovered around his hemline.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“No.” he chuckled nervously. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it was a few inches longer but… rules are rules.” he shrugged.
“You look comfortable enough… and you certainly wear it well.”
“Only ‘coz I have to.”
“Well I guess after six months you’ll be used to it.”
“Sort of… I’d still prefer a boy’s uniform though.”
“That is the boy’s uniform.” she stated
“You know what I mean.” he dryly retorted.
“Yeah. Sorry. Just being flippant.” Carol replied. “It’s a pity you can’t wear black tights… it’d look so much nicer if you could.”
“Yeah I guess.” Peter replied as he looked down at his bottle green legs. “Still, any tights are better than knee socks.”
“True.” Carol replied. “Right, I’m gonna let you go.” she said after a short silence. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Yeah see ya next week… when I’ll be wearing something a bit more ‘me’.” he said.
“You’re still you, no matter what you wear.”
“Yeah I guess.” Peter replied. He smiled through pursed lips. Carol smiled back, said a final farewell before blowing him a kiss and suddenly disappearing from his screen.
“Yeah see ya.” Peter said to no one but himself as he looked down at his attire. At least Noel didn’t invade that conversation, he thought as he perched on the edge of his bed. Peter had never really noticed his best friend’s sister before the day they all went fishing the day before he left. Of course he knew who she was and knew she was OK… but your best friend’s big sister is just that. However since that day when Carol told Peter that she has a crush on him, she’s become far more to Peter than his best friend’s big sister. Peter suspects that Noel might not be too happy should their friendship blossom, but with that thought, he realises that nothing will happen because they live ninety miles apart. “Oh well… it’s a nice idea.” he thinks as he untied his shoelaces.
Peter pulls his feet out of his shoes and plants his heels on the ground for the first time since breakfast. He put the shoes neatly together and spent a moment admiring them; black suede with laces and a tongue that actually covers his foot. They might have a two-and-three-quarter inch heel but they have a rugged, grippy sole that makes them far better suited to the wintry weather than his other school shoes.
He stands to remove his skirt, but a sudden surge of paranoia forces him to first look at his laptop. Fearful that someone’s hacked his system, activated the webcam and is currently watching, he shuts the lid and forces it to hibernate before reaching behind his back to unfasten his skirt. When he first began wearing it he used to fasten it at the front then twist it round but these days, he prefers doing it properly. He clips it to a hanger and smooths its pleats before pulling a pair of jeans on over his tights, checking his laptop is still shut as he does so.
Another detail he really doesn’t want people to find out about springs to mind as he unbuttons his blouse. It’s not stated on the school’s out-of-date website but their strict uniform rules govern everything including their underwear. Pulling his arms out of his shirt sleeves reveals his training bra. He glances at his laptop and wonders what Carol would be thinking if she was still watching. It’s an uncomfortable thought but at least Carol hadn’t asked about his underwear, unlike her brother. Peter’s never been a confident liar so when avoiding a question fails, his only option is to tell the truth. He prefers to call it a ‘vest’ or a ‘top’ than a training bra, but with its adjustable straps and back fastening, and the narrow band of lacy trim and little bow in the middle, it’s clearly a bra of sorts. He pulls on a T shirt followed by a jumper over his training bra before heading downstairs.