nosticksheld7

  After convincing Kurt to let me quickly shave back at home before going shopping, we decided that we earned a day of rest. We spent the entire day watching Rambo movies while being bzed out of our minds. During it, even in my stoned state, I couldn’t help but wonder whether Kurt was continuing to look at me differently. I pyed with my newly curled hair, enjoying the feeling of it not being chock full of tangles. Once I shaved, I marveled again at my appearance, which I could charitably call that of a masculine-looking woman (with the body of a stick figure). If the hormones did end up working like Trish had said, maybe she would be right about my eventual appearance; the idea filled me with joy. Not only being someone I wasn’t, but being pretty while pretending seemed like a dream.

  I also wondered if, when Kurt saw me at that stage, he would want to escate our agreement to a real retionship.

  Probably not, I thought sadly.

  Regardless, I didn’t have time to really dwell on that. We had a child to prepare for. More importantly, we had weed to smoke.

  That day of rest turned into a weekend of rest, which turned into a solid three day weekend, which then led to us in a state of panic at 9am on Thursday. The only thing that had gotten done was that I started my hormone regimen, and that had shown no results in the three days since my first dose.

  “Bro, I don’t think we should smoke weed today.” Kurt said, pacing back and forth in front of the couch, where I was sitting.

  “Fuck. You’re right.” I grumbled. “Dude, what do we do?!? The house is a fucking pigsty, I am not prepared at all to be a woman, and we still don’t have any money!”

  Kurt shook his head before suddenly stopping in his tracks, his face lighting up. He spun on his heels, winked at me, and pulled out his phone.

  “I think I can solve one of those things.” He said, putting his phone to his ear. “I’ll be right back.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he held a finger up. At a moment he said, “Gunner, bro! How are ya? Listen, I need a big favor…” With that, he was through the door of the mud room, and I heard the garage door opening not long after.

  I sat still on the couch, my mind anxiety-riddled mind pying catch up, until I decided that there was nothing I could do until Kurt got back. I should take my pills while I remember, I thought.

  The upstairs of the tiny little two-story we lived in contained both Kurt and I’s rooms, with our shared bathroom in the middle. Our two friends from college used to inhabit the two rooms downstairs, but they had long since moved on. This left us with a greatly increased rent and a lot of unused space. We had talked multiple times about downsizing, but we had never gotten around to it. This was almost certainly why we had no savings. That, and my less than minimum wage job.

  I popped a yellow pill and then two little blue ones, letting those dissolve on my tongue as instructed by Trish. A cursory examination of my face produced no noticeable results, which I tried not to be too disappointed by. A tooth brushing ter, I went downstairs and decided I should use what motivation I had to try to get some of the trash taken out.

  The task proved monumental, but it did give me space to think. While it had occurred to me before, the state of the kitchen made me internalize just how much of a burden a fucking child was. If I struggled with taking the fucking trash out, how was I going to care for a preteen? How much was Kurt actually expecting me to do? This was the guy who overslept on the day of his oldest sister’s wedding, and forgot the day he was supposed to present his capstone project. Was he going to shove Evelyn fully onto me? I supposed that I wouldn’t know at least until the day we got her, but that possibility felt disturbingly real.

  Was this why so many women compined about their husbands?

  I barely finished the kitchen by the time Kurt finally came back, a gasp coming from the mud room door.

  “Joey, bro, holy shit!” Kurt excimed, dropping an envelope on the counter. “You fucking did it!”

  “I did one part of the house, man.” I huffed, lifting a bag that was threatening to rip. “And it’s Ida, remember?”

  “Shit, my bad.” Kurt said. I felt a hand on mine, grabbing at the bag I was holding. “Lemme take that for you.”

  “I can…handle it.” I said, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

  Kurt smirked at me. “C’mon, Ida, I wouldn’t let a woman do heavy lifting when I'm right here.”

  I rolled my eyes even as my heart skipped a beat. I prayed that my blush wasn’t visible. “Fine.”

  “Fuck!” Kurt said when I handed the bag off to him. “You couldn’t use more bags, man?”

  “We’re almost out, dude!” I said, gesturing around. “The fucking kitchen wiped us clean!”

  “You couldn’t go get more?”

  “With what money, dumbass?”

  “Jesus, okay.” Kurt said. “Are the hormones making you PMS?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m genuinely asking, man.”

  I flipped him the bird. “Fuck off! Take the shit out!”

  Kurt’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he turned around while muttering something. I went and colpsed on the couch, trying to slow my breathing. That was easily the most I had exerted myself in years.

  “You good, Ida?” Kurt’s voice said with a slight quiver. I opened my eyes and saw him standing awkwardly behind the couch, his hands in his pockets.

  I sighed, and gestured for him to sit down. “Sorry. I’m stressed, tired, and sober. I have to be ready to be Ida for real in two days, and I don’t even have a fucking dress yet. I don’t have makeup, a bra, nothing!”

  Kurt smiled, holding up a finger. “One sec. I got a surprise for you.”

  I frowned, but I didn’t have long to wait. Kurt grabbed the envelope from the counter and tossed it in my p, sitting down with a look of satisfaction. “Open it.”

  It felt weighty, yet flexible in my hands, and then it hit me. “Where’d you get this money from?”

  Kurt pointed. “Count it first.”

  I tore it open and pulled out a stack of one hundreds, flipping through them as fast as I could. I muttered, “The fuck” once I got to five thousand. As the stack continued, with no signs of me getting to the end, I looked at Kurt with bewilderment. “How much money is there?!?”

  Kurt’s made a show of kicking back, giving me another wink. “Ten thousand.”

  I gasped and clutched the bills to my chest. “Wha-how?!?”

  “I sold my motorcycle.”

  “Ah.” I said, my surprise slowly dissipating. “You didn’t let me ride one st time?”

  Kurt threw his hands up. “No! We needed the money!”

  “I know, I know, I just…never mind.” I said. The closest I had ever felt to Kurt was when he would take me somewhere on his cssic bike, after taking my arms and wrapping them around himself. I wished I had gotten to do that one st time. “Sorry. Thank you, man. This is a lifesaver!”

  Kurt exhaled, kicking back again. “No kidding.”

  I frowned. “Wait, who’d you sell it to on such short notice?”

  “My buddy from work. He was always eyeing it up and asking how much I would charge for it. I gave him a call and that was that.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “He just had ten thousand on hand? Is he the other manager?”

  Kurt cringed. “Nah, he was a cashier. He quit a bit ago. I think he, uh, took out a few payday loans.”

  I cringed along with him. “Shit, man, did we just ruin this guy's life?”

  “Well, hey, it’s not our terrible financial decision. And we’re about to have a kid.” Kurt said.

  I stammered, heat rising in my face. That felt as though it was specifically phrased in a way to fluster me. “Y-yeah.”

  If it was Kurt’s intention, he didn’t show it on his face. After prompting me for the bills, he took out a stack and handed it back to me.

  “Use this to buy clothes, makeup, and anything else you need. I gotta run to work. I want to see what you have when I get home.”

  I stared at the stack of bills before giggling. “Thanks, daddy.” I cooed.

  Kurt’s face twisted in shock. “Wha-what?!?”

  “Like a sugar daddy, dude.” I ughed. “Y’know, you’re giving me money for makeup and stuff?” “Oh.” Kurt said, letting out a sigh. He chuckled before clearing his throat. “Now, darling, I expect you to be all dolled up for me when I come back.”

  “Oh, of course!” I said, pitching my voice as high as it could go. An idea popped into my head. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Uh.” Kurt said, furrowing his brow. “Red?”

  I giggled internally. Of course. “Okay! You’re in for a surprise when you get home.”

  Finally, I could see red coloring on Kurt’s face. He scratched his neck and said, “Ah, like, for real?”

  “Well, yeah, but you have to wait to know what it is!” I said, fluttering my eyeshes at him. “Go to work now, dear. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Kurt’s eyes widened and he bit his cheek, his face fully red. “Y-*cough*y-yeah.” He stood up, taking a breath. “I’ll, uh, see you at nine, Ida.”

  I smiled up at him, curling my legs under me. “Did you want me to get groceries too?”

  Kurt made a clicking sound with his mouth. “Nah, we can do that together tomorrow.”

  “You should ask the grandpa what Evelyn likes.”

  Kurt snapped his fingers and nodded. “Good idea. Think I can get away with just texting him?”

  “Good luck is all I can say.”

  “I’ll need it, dude.” Kurt shifted on his feet. “So…uh, surprise?”

  “You’ll find out, man!” I said, giggling and shooing him with my hands. “Don’t be te!”

  He nodded; with one st look, he went out through the mudroom. I was giddy, flipping through the bills he gave me. How much did he think a week's worth of clothes and some makeup cost? I really hoped it wasn’t three thousand dolrs.

  As I was putting on my shoes, reality smmed me in the face; Kurt must have taken my car, now our only vehicle, to work. I’d have to take the fucking light rail.

  -

  The mall itself was almost dead silent; unsurprising for 1pm on a Thursday. This did little to calm my nerves. The weeks old brownie was doing that job, and even so I was still shaking as I looked at the half-assed list I made on my phone.

  While on the light rail, the excitement started to wear, and what I was about to do hit me like a semi-truck. How was I, a guy, supposed to go in and casually buy a bunch of women’s shit? I could maybe get away with a ‘they’re for my girlfriend’ excuse for the clothes and makeup, but I would certainly need measurements for the bra! I hadn’t bought clothes in forever; certainly nothing that needed knowledge of my size. Basketball shorts and hoodies were nice like that. Thus, I would need to try the clothes I intended to buy on. Fuck.

  Makeup first, then.

  Like the rest of the mall, the makeup store I chose was dead, other than an old woman shopping near the front. In a moment of forethought, I did a cursory search online to figure out what I might need. This allowed me to narrow down a short(ish) list of necessities, including primer, foundation, lipstick, and basic eye makeup. I figured that I didn’t need items such as contour or blush, but I would keep them in mind. Especially since Kurt gave me enough money to buy a used car.

  I wandered into the middle of the store, deciding to look for the primer first. It quickly became apparent to me that I should have made sure I knew what primer looked like. The shelves and dispys were chock full of bottles and tubes, but none of them said primer.

  It was fine, I told myself, mostly for the benefit of my nerves. I had seen foundation back at the first dispy I looked at; I can just grab that for now. I think I also saw-

  “Can I help you?” A sweet voice came from behind me. I froze, my instincts telling me to flee the store. Was I even allowed to be here? Would they kick me out? Would they kill me?

  “Miss?” God, they must think I’m some creepy fucking guy. I should’ve ordered everything online. Why couldn’t I have done that a week ago? Sure, I had no money-

  “Sorry, can you not hear me?” I was shaken out of my thoughts, and whirled around.

  “Oh! Hi!” A short dark-haired woman said, standing up straight. “Can I help you, uh, sir?”

  The ‘sir’ knocked me off my feet, and out spilled, “Mygirlfriendneedsmakeup.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh! Uh, o-kay. What kind?”

  “Um.” I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and scrolled through the list. My mind was struggling to retain information; my only coherent thought was run. “P-primer.”

  The woman nodded. “Anything else?”

  “No.” I said, in an attempt to end this interaction early.

  “Okay! Follow me, please?” She smiled wide and led me to a dispy case near the back of the store, where the absolute quantity seemed designed to overwhelm me specifically. I had never pretended to be particurly functional.

  “Does your girlfriend use foundation and concealer?” The woman asked, looking through the bottles.

  “Um. She, uh,” Why was I having such a difficult time lying? “I don’t know.”

  “Figures.” I heard the employee mutter under her breath. “Sir, this would probably be easier if she came in herself. I’m sorry you came all this way.”

  Shit! “No! I-she, needs it for an event on Saturday. She can’t come in before then.”

  The woman turned back and nodded. “I see. What’s the occasion, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  I did mind, thank you very much. “She’s having a kid.”

  The woman’s face twisted in shock. “Uh, um, congratutions! Why, uh, why does she need makeup for that?”

  I frowned. “Because…” What I said dawned on me, and I felt as though my soul was trying to escape my body. This transted to me standing open mouthed, staring at the poor employee. “It’s…ah.” Here goes nothing. “It’s for me, actually.” I bowed my head, while keeping my eyes focused on her.

  The woman stared at me, brow furrowed, until something seemed to dawn on her. “OH! Sorry! I get it.” She chuckled. “You’re allowed to be here, you know. You’re allowed to buy makeup.”

  I scratched my neck. “I kinda thought y’all would kick me out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because…you would think I was, like, a creepy guy.” I said.

  She chuckled again, before abruptly stopping. After a moment, she closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay, now I get it. I apologize, miss.” She looked back at the primer bottles. “Now, let’s get you going. Is this your first time buying makeup?”

  While I was confused as to the sudden gendering switch, I wasn’t compining. “Yeah.”

  “Okay! Did you have a list of what you wanted? And what’s your budget?” She asked, taking a primer bottle off the dispy.

  “Yeah, uh, here.” I handed her my phone. “I’d rather not spend too much.”

  She scrolled through the list, nodding along. “Perfect. Let’s see…” She looked up at me, staring uncomfortably hard at my face. “You're pretty pale. I hope we have a foundation that works.”

  I tried not to be offended by that, and nodded. At least she wasn’t trying to kill me.

  A half hour ter, I was walking out of the store with the entire list of products and then some; the employee, whose name was Sandy, encouraged me to ‘splurge’ and buy blush, eyebrow glue, three different kinds of eyeshadow, and a lot of lipstick. I was a solid one-fifty out. I couldn’t help giggling when Sandy’s surprise returned at the two hundred dolr bills I pulled out of my pocket.

  I couldn’t revel in the joy of how well that went for long. Clothes were next.

  The department store near the entrance was certainly more crowded than the makeup store, although it made up for this by being absolutely huge. It occurred to me that I couldn’t remember the st time I went clothes shopping. It would have to have been when I was fifteen, the year my final growth spurt hit. An entire decade blessedly free of this particur stress was about to come to an end.

  I swallowed and stepped into the women’s section, keeping my eyes down. The back of my neck was being rubbed raw by my anxious hand. My demeanor was almost certainly drawing more attention than if I was just shopped like a normal person; this thought only served to hurt my composure.

  Whatever, I thought. The sooner I picked out a week’s worth of outfits, the sooner I could get the fuck out of here. I didn’t have a list for this, but I had a vague idea of what I needed to impress ultra-religious types; dresses with really long skirts. I could start with those. I picked my head up and searched for any signage pointing to a dress section. Crop tops and jeans surrounded me in all directions, as did a handful of women shopping. One of them, a woman I guessed was around my age, snatched a cute bck top off of the rack before turning and meeting my eyes. I froze in pce, keenly aware of how I must look; like a predator.

  I turned on my heels and speed walked in the opposite direction, narrowly avoiding running over an employee as I rounded a corner. My bag full of makeup hit the floor, prompting a “fuck” while my voice cracked.

  “You okay, sir?” The employee asked, bending down to pick up some of the bottles.

  “Yep!” I said, frantically grabbing every bottle I could find.

  “Sorry about that.” She said, smiling and handing me the rest of my makeup. “Can I help you find anything?”

  I settled on, “Ah…conservative dresses?”

  The employee’s eyes went wide. “Do you mean like…”

  I swallowed my terror and said, “My boyfriend's parents are very religious.”

  “Oh!” Her look of surprise didn’t leave, but she jabbed her thumb behind her. “Back of the store.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You got it, ma’am. Good luck.”

  I chuckled. “I’ll fucking need it.”

  This section of the store was empty, besides the racks and racks of terrible looking clothes, including a floral-patterned blue dress. It looked like an outfit out of a documentary about Amish people. It was perfect.

  I reached my hand toward the dress before snapping it back to my side. I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought; I shouldn’t be allowed to be doing this. I gnced around, looking up at the dress again once I saw that the coast was clear. I grabbed the dress and began to book it out of the store, before a beautiful red cocktail dress caught my eye as well. It was simply and rather skimpy; exactly what I had in mind for Kurt’s surprise. I grabbed that without a second thought. Having almost certainly overstayed my welcome, I paid and practically ran out of the store.

  It was only on the light rail back home that I realized that I had forgotten to buy a bra and underwear. Being absolutely done with this whole adventure, I marched into a department store one train train stop before my house and grabbed a bag of women's underwear and the smallest bra I could find. With that, I had nothing resembling a wardrobe and way too much makeup.

  -

  The bra I had bought did not fit; I was almost unable to get around my chest. I didn't dare try on the underwear, as the idea of me, a cisgender man, wearing women's underwear conjured up unfavorable images of sissies, and made me feel sick to my stomach.

  The cocktail dress fit surprisingly well, at least.

  My heart jumped into my throat as I heard the garage door open. I jumped off the couch, steadied myself, and stood at attention. My face suddenly felt itchy under all the makeup, and I felt like a lumbering oaf in my dress. Nevertheless, excitement bubbled in my stomach; if Kurt reacted how I hoped he would, this could be it. Maybe if he saw me in an outfit like that he’d realize he was heteroflexible and we could finally be together. Maybe. This would also be my first real test of the efficacy of my disguise.

  The door to the mudroom opened, and Kurt stepped through the door, his hat in hand and his hair a mess. Bags adorned his eyes, only lightly countered by the look of shock which appeared shortly after he looked up.

  “Hey.” I said quietly, trying my absolute best to follow the voice-training tips. “This is…your surprise.”

  His brow furrowed, and he looked away quickly. “Oh.”

  All of my excitement drained from my body. “Is it that bad?”

  “No! No, J–Ida. I just…you look like a woman.” He said, his tone ft. “There’s no way the family will know.”

  “Oh.” I shifted on my feet. “Is that…good?”

  “Yeah? That’s the point, bro.” Kurt said, scratching the back of his neck. “Why, uh, why is this my surprise?”

  “I thought…I don’t know. I’m, I’m showing you that I can pass as a woman, fuckface!” I yelled, fighting back tears.

  “Uh, good! You do! Joey, wait!” Kurt called, but I had already turned and hurried out of the living room, nails digging into my palm. I reached my room and smmed the door behind me, colpsing onto my mattress and screaming into my pillow. I should’ve known. I should’ve known that my mannish body couldn’t be counteracted with a dress and make me pretty for Kurt. Why the fuck did I have to fall in love with a straight guy? Why did I have to pretend to be his girlfriend?

  I needed a fucking smoke.

  I picked my head out of my pillow and groaned. My dress fell to the floor, a sick feeling settling in my stomach when I looked down at it. As uncomfortable as the bra was, I felt compelled to leave it on. I threw on my hoodie and sweatpants, and stormed down the stairs, running into an anxious-looking Kurt at the bottom.

  “Fuck, man, I’m sorry, I-”

  “Don’t call me man, dickhead.” I snapped. “Do we have joints rolled?”

  “No. Want me to roll one for you?”

  “No.” I walked past him into the room of our old friend Mahir, which now doubled as both storage (more trash than anything worth storing, but Kurt seemed adamant on keeping them) and a smoking room. As I made a beeline to the weed box before a thought stopped me in my tracks.

  “Kurt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Where the fuck is Evelyn going to sleep?”

  There was a short period of silence until I heard a, “fuck me” from him. I walked to the door frame and leaned on it while Kurt began to pace just in front of me.

  “We have to clean one of these rooms out.” I said.

  “No, dude, we don’t have that kinda time!” Kurt said, running his hands through his hair. “Where would we put all of our shit?”

  “Donation boxes?”

  “We don’t have time to look through it, man. Girl. Sorry.” He corrected himself. “We’re gonna have to use one of our rooms.”

  “Absolutely fucking not.” I said, shaking my head.

  “You don’t have much in yours! It would just be until we could clean out one of these ones.”

  “Where the hell would I sleep? The couch?”

  “You could sleep with me.” Kurt raised his hands quickly and closed his eyes. “I know, I know. Don’t fucking say shit. I wouldn’t mind, and it would help with the deception.”

  “Help with the deception? How? Are they gonna watch us sleep?” I scoffed, fully aware of how red my face was.

  “They might check and be confused why we have separate bedrooms! Or would that be more patable to them…because we aren’t married…ah, fuck it. Crash with me, bro. To be honest with you, I kinda hate sleeping alone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is that why you had your ex over six nights a week?”

  “I mean, sorta. She was mostly a great y and horny all the damn time.” Kurt said. “Y’know, it was funny-”

  “Never mind.” I interrupted. “You can’t be serious, man. Wouldn’t it be…gay shit to sleep with me?’

  “If we fucked, yeah, but we won’t.” He said matter-of-factly. “It would be good for you too! You’ll sleep on a bedframe for the first time in years, bro.”

  “Shut up.”

  Kurt smiled, stepping closer to me. “That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend, dude.”

  My breath caught, killing any retort in my throat. There was no he didn’t know that I had a thing for him, right? He was pying me like a damn fiddle.

  “I fucking hate you.” I forced out, looking at my feet.

  “Betcha do, bro. You wanna bunk with your man or not?”

  “I fucking hate you.” I repeated.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He said. Hands gently grabbed my shoulders, prompting me to look up. “You just rex and cure your sobriety. I’ll handle Evelyn’s room.”

  I swallowed, avoiding his eyes. “Is she gonna sleep on my mattress?”

  “No. I think we both can get Mahir’s up there, and he had a bedframe. We can do that together tomorrow. I’ll just clean tonight.”

  “‘Kay.” I said.

  “It’ll be cool, okay? We’ll be ready for them on Saturday.”

  “Tomorrow’s our st day without a child, dude.” I said, cracking a smile.

  “We’re gonna be fucking parents, bro.” Kurt said, pulling me into a hug.