Melody

Chapter 2: the t-shirt

I tried the t-shirt on. It was an impulse out of nowhere. It felt good and looked good. It really was a very nice top (that produced another pang of guilt).
I was glad I hadn't destroyed it, but what was I to do with it?
I put it back in my wardrobe.

Over the next couple of weeks I tried it on a few more times. What a pity. It was so nice. Of course, it didn't go with my baggy jeans or school shorts. What it needed, I reckoned, was a pair of tight jeans like girls wore.
Maybe I should get. . . I mean, I did need a new pair of jeans. If I got some firmer fit ones . . . how would the t-shirt look with them?
Why not?

"Mum, I need some new jeans."

"Okay, darling. I'm not sure when we can go shopping, maybe . . ."

"Mum, it's alright. I can have a look after school this afternoon. I know what I want."

Laugh. "Yeah, I suppose you know better than I do. I'll give you my credit card, love."

"Hey," Dad called out, "don't go getting carried away with that."

"I was thinking of buying a Porsche." 

"Okay, but only one of the cheaper models."

We all had a good laugh. My parents might neglect me a fair bit, but we did have a good relationship.

I was in a department store looking through the boys jeans. There was nothing quite like what I had in mind. I picked out the slimmest fit ones I could find and started heading for the fitting rooms.
Then . . . glancing around furtively, and feeling scared and secretive, I diverted to the girls jeans section.
Obviously better; much tighter fit. No one was looking my way, I grabbed a pair that I thought were my size, wrapped them up in the boys jeans, and feeling rather flushed and strangely excited, walked none too casually to the fitting rooms.
Both pairs fitted me quite well, but the girls jeans were exactly what I'd been envisaging, really snug . . . and felt surprisingly good.
I'd have to get both pairs, Mum would probably want to see what I'd bought so I needed the boys pair to show her. How could I do this? The checkout lady was bound to think it was weird if I went up with one pair of boys jeans and one pair of girls, both the same size.
Hey, hallelujah. There was a self-serve checkout facility, and not too busy.
Easy, peasy.