Not Her

Chapter 23

"I buy you flowers; you throw 'em at me

I know it's sad but it's makin' me happy

The more that you slap me, the more that it turns me on

'Cuz you love me and I love you more"

-M&M

Normally I'm not the type of dude that would worry about, what to wear. But it's pretty hard to be at least presentable for a "meeting" with your boyfriend when you absolutely don't know what your date is about. A movie night? Dinner? A party? A family meeting? What the actual hell it is?!

Fuck it! Jeans would do.

'Is that what you're going to wear?'

My mom was standing by the door watching me stare at my reflection. Blue jeans, a black tee-shirt, and a leather jacket.

'Yes,' I answered unconvinced myself 'I'm keeping it casual.'

'Honey. Isn't it a special date?' She asked stepping towards me. 'Don't you want to look a little different?'

'Is it that part of the movie where I'm going to get a makeover mom?' I said sarcastically. 'You know...that cliché montage from every bad rom-com ever. When the nerdy tomboy gets a girly makeover from her girlfriends and ends up looking like a bomb.'

She smiled at me. 'No honey this is not it. I'm not your friend nor have a sense of fashion. But I suggest you get that little white dress you're hiding back in your closet. And you can keep the jacket.'

It took her a little while to find the dress since I threw it with the "shit I'll never wear". Which ladies and gentlemen contain some glamorous shoes, dresses, purses and makeup my mother bought me to remind me that I don't have a penis.

'Finally,' she said getting the little plastic bag out. 'Didn't you even open it?'

I shrugged.

'Try it please.'

'There's no freaking way mom.'

'Just give a chance.'

I sighed in exhaustion. 'Fine.' Now it feels like crossdressing.

Even putting a dress on is a struggle. Tight and suffocating. How do girls do this for every date? And don't even get me started on the fucking heels.

'You look, nice. Put the jacket on too,' she said fixing my hair.

Actually, the jacket made it look chicer, but I'm still feeling so weird. What I'm looking at is a nice and classy young girl. But I'm certainly not classy nor a girl.

'You actually have a great taste in fashion. But I won't wear it, it feels so awful,' I complained. 'Imagine if you had to wear my dad's suit.'

She rolled her eyes at me. 'Just try going out like this for once. For me.'

'No mom you're asking for too much.' I apologized taking off the jacket. She came closer and held my arms steady. 'Please,' she said fixing my gaze in sweetness.

'Mom you don't understand.' I said frustrated. 'Would Jason accept to wear a dress? No. Because he is a guy! Why can't you understand that it's the same for me?'

She stared at me perplexed. 'But people would be...'

'What people?!' I said completely disoriented.

'No one... listen. Just do it for me...Come on,' she pegged almost losing hope.

I was about to refuse again, but lately, I've been feeling nostalgic towards my home and my parents. So maybe I should please her just for this time. Even if I had to lose some of my toes and all of my dignity.

'Okay whatever mom,' I said before she jumps at me. 'But no heels.'

'What about some lipstick?'

'Oh hell no! This isn't your birthday mom.'

'No it's yours.'

'Oh. You remembered!' I said shocked. I totally thought that my family forgot about it.

'Of course.'

'Where is my gift?' I asked feeling like an excited seven years old.

'You'll have it soon.' She said kissing me on the cheek.

*

'Hot Girls are always late.' Someone said this dumb cliché. And now girls can't show up on time, leaving the guys waiting for hours.

'I'm sorry. It's traffic,' they say.

Girl, traffic is what you made in your bedroom trying to get "ready".

I got in the cab at 5:30 pm, and gave the driver the location. He assumed that he knew the place so I laid back and tried to chill a little.

When we passed the house, I took the stupid dress off and struggled to put on my jeans and my tee-shirt back on. The driver glanced at me in the mirror smiling.

'Do you want me to stop Miss?' His voice was very strong and had a strange accent that was either British or Australian.

'No. Just keep going.'

The GPS indicated that the trip will be taking fifteen minutes. And here I am an eternity after in the cab still.

'Sir, are we lost or something?' I asked a little worried.

'No, we are almost there.'

I started getting seriously paranoid. What if he is a serial killer? What if he is a pedophile? What if he is both? What if he is going to rape and slaughter my throat then threw my body on the sidewalk?

Well, at least I won't die a virgin.

'We are here miss,' he said after another five minutes.

'Thank you,' I answered. For not killing me.

After all, I ended up like all the other "girls". Late.