Two Means Trouble

Dress to Impress

Dean's POV:

I found myself picking through my closet the moment I got home. It wasn't like it was something that I usually did: I guess Alexis had just gave me some strange boost of self-consciousness, and I felt that I needed to wear better clothes for her to like me. Though, I was pretty sure I had her on the line, because I knew exactly where the piece of paper with her number on it was in my backpack.

The shirt I tried on first was really itchy. It was a red checkered shirt that I don't actually remember buying or wearing, so it was probably a gift.

The collar was a little tight around my neck, and the top button wouldn't stay shut. I watched for the fifth time as it opened itself, revealing the pale top of my chest. "Fuck it," I muttered, starting to unbutton the entire shirt.

"Oh, my God."

Spinning around, I saw Megan standing in the door, watching me in surprise. When I gave her an annoyed sigh, she took it as a sign she was welcomed in. "What the Hell? You got that shirt for, like, your fourteenth birthday. There's no way it fits right anymore."

I took in a deep, strangled breath and turned back to the mirror. My fingers fumbled on the fifth button, trying to undo it. "Whatever. I didn't say you could come into my room, you realize." Megan had moved to sit on my bed, looking curiously at the shirts I had laid out, most of them a few sizes too small.

"Yeah, okay," she said non-chalantly, picking up a black blazer and examining it. "You know, if I'm gonna go full-out lesbian this year, I might be able to take this off your hands." I watched in the mirror as she dusted off the front of it, collecting dust on the palm of her hand. She wiped it on my bedspread and held the jacket up to the light.

"Ha ha, very funny," I half-snorted. Her eye caught mine in the mirror, and she tilted her head, eyes questioning me. I looked away, down to the last button, which was caught. "Dammit," I breathed, pulling to undo it.

"Here." Megan got up off the bed and walked over to me, reaching out for the bottom of the shirt. Her fingers worked on the button until it finally came loose, and she dropped her hands, watching as I pulled the shirt off. Her eyes darted over my abs. "Were you working out?"

"Maybe?" I said in a voice that was two octaves higher than usual. "Is it that big of a deal? It's junior year. I'm just trying to boost my appearance." Dropping the too-small shirt to the floor, I maneuvered around her, grabbing the a brown vest and white collar shirt from the bed.

"Hey." Megan's voice was softer now, less criticizing. I didn't pause for her though, pulling the collar shirt up over my shoulders and beginning to button it. It was much easier to work than the last one, the buttons fitting easily into their designated slits. "Dean. Seriously."

I let out a hiss of frustration, sharper than I meant it to be. "What, Megan? It's not weird that I'm working out, and it's not weird that I'm changing my wardrobe, just to knock two of your questions out." My voice wasn't horribly deep, but it was also a lot angrier of a tone than I usually used with her.

The surprise was etched across her cheeks. I felt instantly bad, but I knew she wouldn't need an apology to stay and continue to ask me questions, so I didn't give her one. "Okay, grouchy ass. Cool. Change your hair, change your clothes, use Michael Jackson as your fashion icon, I don't care." I felt her hand on my shoulder, just as I was hooking the last button, and her fingers wrapped gently around my shoulder cap. "But, answer me honestly. Are you doing this because of a girl?"

There was a moment of silence. I pulled the collars up around my neck- the top button was working on this shirt- and let out a small sigh of defeat. Turning around, I looked into her eyes. They were a hazel color, and they were filled with comfort and concern, so I let it out. "Yeah, I am."

Walking over to my backpack, I continued, "I think I've got her. I mean, when I asked for her number, she gave it to me without snorting or anything. And she's totally hot-" I paused, unzipping my backpack and searching for the slip of paper "-and I'm gonna ask her out on a date this weekend." Handing the number to Megan, I turned back to the mirror and reached for the vest, pulling it over my head. "Mom and dad will be out."

Megan opened the slip of paper and looked over it. I could see the disapproval shining in her eyes as she looked up into the mirror. "Dean... You're not gonna just..."

When a moment of silence followed her sentence, I finished it. "I'm just gonna... Fuck her?"

Her eyes flashed in the mirror, and I knew I had gotten it right. Great. My twin sister thinks I'm a total man whore. "No, I'm not. I'll at least buy her dinner. But, she's really hot and seems like she might be the kind to get in bed on the first date, so I won't object if it comes to that. Maybe you should go out with some friends on Friday, so that you don't have to hear the sounds."

It had left my mouth before I could think over what I had said. A sad expression occupied Megan's face for a minute, and I felt guilt stab at my heart. She snorted softly, and though she was trying to let it roll off of her, I knew what I had said hurt. "Yeah. Okay."

I smoothed out the front of the vest and turned, facing her. "I didn't mean it like that," I said in an apologetic voice. "I swear. I didn't." I wrapped my arms around her body tightly, holding her close to me.

"I know," she said against my body. It was muffled, but I could make out the words. Hugging her always reminded me of the simple days, when we used to play with spaceships out on the play set and the only girl I had my eyes on was the pink-haired girl in Lazy Town. When Megan first came out, I had blamed myself for turning her gay because I had always made her play with rockets and race cars and watch transformers. When I told her my thought, she quickly told me that it wasn't true, and that she couldn't help that she liked girls. It was just how it was.

We pulled apart slowly. "Things will return to how they used to be someday," I said softly, looking into her face. She avoided my gaze and instead walked over to my closet, sifting through my pants.

"Who's the girl, anyways?" By the tone of her voice, I knew the conversation had changed, and she had accepted my apology. Smiling slightly, I walked over to the bed and picked up a pair of jeans and brushed my hands across them, trying to get rid of some of the wrinkles.

"She's new." I started to work on my belt, undoing the buckle. I slid my cackis down my legs, revealing my muscular thighs and goofy superman boxers. "She sits next to me in study hall, and she's smokin'."

Megan's eyes were on me as I slipped the jeans up my legs and buttoned them. I knew they would fit, because I had bought them pretty recently, and they were one of my favorite pairs. "Can I get a name?" She asked eagerly.

"Alexis Monroe," I said, turning sideways in the mirror so I could see how they looked. They were nice, a little baggy around the top but tighter towards my ankles. Perfect to wear with high tops. "She's blonde, and she's cute, and she smells good, and she's cute," I continued dreamily, staring up at the ceiling as my hands pulled at my belt, guiding it through the loops. She was more than cute. She was gorgeous.

I looked to Megan. She had stood up straight, no longer leaning against the doorway of my closet, her face pale. "Meg?" I said, a little concerned. Her eyes had widened and she was staring at me like I had just turned into a ghost and morphed back to human within s ten second span.

"Y-yeah?" She replied. I knew there was something weird. Megan was never at a loss for words when she was talking to me. We were too close to be uncomfortable.

"You know her?" My voice was more uncertain than I meant. Megan shook her head, knocking her out of the trance, and she stared up into my eyes. She seemed a little bit surprised.

"We.. We have chemistry," Megan answered. "Like the class," she added quickly.

I nodded. "Cool. So, what do you think of her? Dating material for me, or out of my league?"

Megan swallowed hard. "Definitely in your league." Her eyes darted to the doorway leading to the hall, and she continued, "I'm gonna go do homework. I just remembered, I promised a friend I would call them and give them answers."

Before I could even answer, she had darted out of the door. I watched the spot where she had been just seconds before. "Homework?" I said to myself, staring hard at the spot where her feet had been. "On the first day of school?"