Chapter Two
-99% Of All Success Is Preparation-
A couple of days later Mark sent me an email telling me to meet him at the theatre at three o'clock the following afternoon. I was excited to do this, easiest A of my schooling career I would say. I skipped along the path towards the theatre, completely in my own world with The Kooks blasting in my ears.
'Uh-oh, I love her because she moves in her own way. Uh-oh-oh, she came to my show, just to hear about my day.'
As I sung to myself, I didn't notice the old man that had to side step around me while holding a big box and I really didn't notice the younger guy holding a bigger box that didn't have time to dodge me. We hit the ground... Well he did, I landed on top of him and t-shirts and jumpers went everywhere all around us on the footpath, as the box exploded, Floating to the ground like abnormally big leafs in the autumn.
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" I gasped, as I pushed myself up andoff him, taking my head phones out. He stood up and dusted off his stone washed jeans and then his chest that was wrapped up nicely in a bright red shirt. He was quite tall, probably a good half a foot taller than me, maybe 6'5" or 6'6''. I felt a little small for the first time in a while as he towered over my 5'11" self.
"It's okay," He grumbled.It wasn't, I could tell by the look on his face he was trying tohide."I felt like washing all these clothes again anyway." I blushed as I helped him pick up his clothes, his sarcastic statement confirming my thoughts. I handed over a pine green hoodie and a baby blue muscle shirt to him and tried not to blush again as he took them as I gave him a good once over,trying to get a good look at him.
His dirty blonde hair was in need of a good brushing and a trim, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and ran his fingers through it, so it'd sit on end and straight up an inch in the air. He had a bit of a half assed emo fringe that sat just above his bright green eyes.
"Sorry that was rude," he sighed after a moment."My name's Jake," he offered his name to me. "That's my dad, Jim."He threw his thumb over his shoulder.
"Hi Jake, Sorry Jim." I looked over Jakes shoulder and the old man nodded at me, they had the same nose and hair, although Jims was shorter, neater and grey-er. "My name is Lucy." I told him brushing my hair behind my ear, feeling awkward, watching him throw the last ofhis clothes back into the box. "Are you just moving onto campus?" I asked and Jake nodded, folding the flaps of the box back to close it up.
"Yeah, I'm a little late though," heshrugged.
"I'd say," I murmured. "I've been living on campus for about two weeks now."
"There was a stuff up with my paper work," Jakefrowned as he easily picked up his box with his nice, well toned arms. "I better let you get back to it then," he gave me a half smile and I smiled politely at him.
"It was nice to, uh... run into you...?" I trailed off and he chuckled.
"I might see you around soon, hey?"
"Yeah, next time I might see you before its too late," I laughed, winking at him, feeling bold. "Sorry again, good luck unpacking!"
"Thanks, I think I'll need it." I waved at the two men and put my head phones back in and started towards the theatre again.
He was cute. Really cute.
And if his dad was anything to go by, he wasn't going to get worse with age. I kicked myself soon after that I didn't find out what he was studying. I would fall over and die if he was, by chance, in one of my classes.
I was single, but hadn't been for long. Trent, my ex, and I decided to mutually split after he got into Uni back home and I had decided to further my horizons a little by moving out of the small town. We had spent the summer saying goodbye and separated on good terms at the end, he even drove down here with me and helped me move onto campus. It completely sucked that we broke up, but I was getting over it and the fact that we still spokefrequently made it easier because I wasn't going cold turkey, just weaning myself out of the relationship. When I was feeling lonely, I rung him up and we spoke until he cheered me up like he did so very well. I arrived at the theatre and let myself in, there was nobody around so I walked up to the reception desk and dinged the bell, waiting.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The whole room I noticed, had a distinct dark blue theme. The tiles were dark grey, the walls royal blue and the doors matched with a slightly lighter dark blue for the skirting boards and door frames. It looked professional and dramatic, like any good theatre should.
"Lucy? Is that you?" I heard from behind me, I spun around and Mark was poking his head out of one of the many doors that looked like fire safety doors. I quickly scurried across the room and followed him down a hall (also dark blue) into the back of the stage, probably like a green room or waiting room for the performers.
"Come into the wardrobe section, so we can get you started," Mark said as heushered me into a smaller room that was lined with all sorts of costumes.
"Halloweens wet dream," I mumbled to myself and Mike laughed as he walked ahead of me.
"It certainly is." I blushed, not realizing how good his hearing was and kept my mouth shut.
"Rhonda, here she is," Mark called out ahead of us and I came to a sudden halt in front of a small woman.She was probably about 5'5" with tight red frizzy curls and vivid green eyes that looked like they held a wealth of life experience and secrets.
"How are you today?" Rhonda asked. "I'm Rhonda Smitten."
"I'm great thanks, Lucy Walters," I introduced myself and she smiled at me happily giving my hand a quick, firm shake.
"So you want to be a boy, huh?"
"Yeah," I laughed. "Every girls dream, right?" I joked and she chuckled as she circled me like a shark.
"You're a little curvy but a binding bandage should even it out a little, let me just go grab one and we'll see what we can do." she disappeared into the mess of costumes leaving just Mark and I standing there.
"Have you thought about this?" Mark asked, making conversation.
"How hard could it be?" I laughed and Mark shrugged indifferently.
"Well you want it to be convincing, so I personally would be thinking about male mannerisms and lingo. Strutting around campus still giggling and squealing might get you in trouble."
"I do not... strut..." I frowned at him.
"You may not mean to and it may be subtle, but you may find that its exaggerated when you're looking like a boy. Think about how some of your male friends act, the things they do without even thinking about it," He suggested and I frowned as I thought about it.
I knew I had a friend, Brett, that was always spitting. I was always telling him off for it, but he'd just laugh at me and then do it again on purpose. Trent had a habit of rearranging his shorts that drove me crazy, we'd be in the middle of a restaurant and he would have to grab himself... down there... claiming that he was uncomfortable andthat I didn't know how easy I had it without all the extra bits and pieces down there. Another friend, Luke, had a slight swagger in his walk. He was extremely casual and laidback and it showed in the way he walked, he would almost smoothly roll along, the picture of cool.
"I guess..." I murmured thoughtfully as Rhonda returned with a salmon colored length of fabric.
"Mark, I'll ask you to pop out of the room while I show Lucy how to put this on," she told Mark with an air of authority. Mark simply nodded and started towards the door.When he was gone, she smiled calmly at me. "Can you take your top and bra off, please," She asked easily and I stared at her like she was high. "It'll be more comfortable without anything underneath it, don't worry, this is clean and you haven't got anything I haven't," She tried to assure me but I still frowned.Islowly lifted my shirt and then unhooked my bra after a moment.
I was beetroot red andI felt like it was a thousand degrees in this room.This was the worst thing in the world.
"Okay, putting this devil of a thing is easier to put on with a friend, but can be done by yourself. Here hold the end here," she instructed as shehanded me the strip and showed me where to hold. "It has to be pulled tight, to even out all your bumps and lumps."We spent a good five minutes with Rhonda showing me just how tight it had to be.
"I can't breathe," I squeaked.
"Have a look at you in the mirror," she told me, a knowing, smug look in her eyes, stepping back andgesturing to the wall behind her. I did and was shocked to find my chest was almost flat and my hips lined up with my tummy, giving me the evened out, straight up and down look Rhonda had been talking about. "Males don't have hips," she said. "They have a V shape, slowly flaring out from hips to shoulders. Where as girls, because they have children, need the wider hips giving them the hour glass figure." It made sense to me now. But I looked like a box, no V's or hour glass figures.
"Alright, unravel it and I'll show you how to put it on by yourself," Rhonda told me and I breathed out for the first time in ten minutes as I stripped it off. "We'll make a tube to begin with," she told me, safety pinning the binding fabric. "That way you'll get the initial tightness you need and then you just need to wrap the rest around you tightly." I nodded and crossed my arms over my bare chest, uncomfortable and feeling extremely naked as I waited a few minutes.
It took another ten minutes and when she was sure I was capable of doing it myself, she let me dress again and Mark came back in. She had Mark walk across the room and then told me to imitate him.
"You're walking with your hips," She exclaimed. "Watch Mark walk, his centre of his body is his chest, not his hips, walk with your chest!" She insisted I had no idea what she was talking about. But I tried and after feeling awkward and a little special, apparently I was progressing according to Mark and Rhonda.
"What are you going to do with your hair?" Rhonda asked me and I blanched.
"What?" I squeaked, reaching up to protectively cover my shoulder length auburn hair.
"The easiest solution would be to cut it all off." She told me, calmly.
"No it wouldn't!" I shook my head, horrified. "Don't you dare!" I cried out, twisting a lock of it around my finger, wondering just how I'd kill this lady if she came at me with scissors.
"What about a wig?" Mark suggested.
"They're awfully itchy," Rhonda frowned, "and you plan on wearing it for two weeks, it'll be a long two weeks with an itchy head."
"It's better than having to grow out my hair again!" I told her and she shrugged and sighed, seemingly resigned that I would resort to anger and pain if she did anything to my precious hair.
"Alright then, I'll go get some wigs."She left the room and Mark and I worked on my walking as we waited for her.
"Have you thought about what you want to get out of this exercise?" Mark asked me.
"Huh?" I looked over my shoulder at him confused, as I walked across the room, walking with my shoulders... I still don't know what that means but apparently I'm doing it...
"Well in class you're so sure that boys have it so much easier, have you thought about what you think is easier?"
"Everything..." I said slowly after a moment, looking at him like he was an idiot. He only laughed at me.
"I think it would make it easier if you sat down and wrote down what you think the pro's and con's of being a boy are. Then you'll know what to look for during your two weeks."
"Speaking of two weeks," I remembered my idea from the other day, after class. "I was thinking, I'm so going to breeze through this in two weeks, like, pretty sure its going to be a fricken dream. So, as more as a challenge, I was thinkingof doing it for a month." Mark chuckled at me again.
"Just get through the next two weeks and we'll see how you're feeling about it at the end of it, hey?"
"I suppose." I told him, but so sure a month was still too easy, let alone two measly weeks.
"You'll be able to move into your new room tomorrow and meet your new roommate."
"Does he know about this?" I asked and Mark shook his head.
"It's part of the assessment, how convincing you can be. But if he finds out before the two weeks is up, we'll figure something out," Mark shrugged easily. "Also, I had to pulla lotof strings to get you into the boys dorm, do I need to talk to you about abusing those privileges? No midnight boyfriend visits, all the girl rules you have still apply." I blushed as I assured him that he didn't have to worry.Rhonda appeared again with an arm full of hair of all different colors.
"What colored hair do you feel like having?" Rhonda asked, her green eyes bursting with excitement. She was in herelement, dressing me up.
"I've always wanted to know what it'd be like to be blonde." I grinned and she nodded, sorting through the fake hair.
"Make it harder to recognize you, without it as well. Here," she handed me bobby pins and a hair net. "Put all your hair back and cover it and we'll start finding your inner boy shall we?"
I tried on seven different wigs until I settled on a dark blonde hair piece that was styled messily. The volume and the amount of the hair was very forgiving as I completely sucked at putting my hair up smoothly. I was shocked as I looked in the mirror; I loved it... just as a temporary style though. I loved my longer hair better. The color made my blue eyes pop, and my skin tone look darker. Rhonda gave me everything I needed and advised me on what to wear, which was mainly just baggy t-shirts, loose hoodie, anything that was forgiving and hid more then it needed too.
I left Rhonda and Mark with my many thanks and headed back to my room to where Kathy, my roommate, was lying on her bed with her laptop, on facebook. She was a lovely girl. She was also a small town girl and hadcome here to study Forensic Science, so as you can imagine, she was super smart but you wouldn't think it sometimes. She came across as normal and down to earth. She smiled at me as she watched me walk into the room, her brown eyes sparkling as she knew where I had just come from.
"You have to show me you all dressed up!" she insisted and I rolled my eyes.
"I look like such a fake!" I laughed and she laughed with me, moving her lap top to the side and sat up, gathering all of her short black hair into a high messy bun to get it off her face.
"No. I have to see this! Oh god, Wait! Can I be your girlfriend? I'm so good at acting," she assured me. "Just, no PDA or Private PDA... just yeah, no nothing," she frowned to herself, waving her hand at me dismissively and I laughed.
"If you feel you must be my girlfriend...?" I rolled my eyes.
"Hell yeah! We're going to be the hottest couple on campus." Her enthusiasm was contagious as she grinned excitedly.
"Actually, you might be able to help me with something. I need to make a list of pro's and con's of being a boy."
"Ohh yeah! Let's do it." I don't think I could wipe that grin off her face if I tried as she grabbed her laptop and brought up a new Word document. "Okay, we'll do 'why its easy to be a boy' and 'why it's hard to be a girl' lists," Kathy said as she busily typed. "Ready," she smiled up at me a moment later.
"Girls list first." I laid down on my bed and pondered. "Periods, PMS and Pregnancy for starters," I stated the obvious, counting them off on my fingers.
"Bloating," Kathy grumbled as she typed.
"Self consciousness," I added.
"Emotional eating binges."
"Bitchiness."
"Rumors and gossip."
"Short skirts in winter, so cold. Ohh! And stockings, those things suck!"
"High heels."
"Amen!" I threw my hands up in the air in total agreement.
"Being leered at by freaks and creeps."
"Drunk guys too," I grimaced.
"Double standards."
"Having to lug around a heavy handbag, because guys arenever prepared."
"Did you know women are generally paid less then men still, one would think in this time and age..." she trailed off with a frown as she typed quickly.
"Having to be super woman all the time," I rolled my eyes.
"Women that drink are labeled 'sloppy' whereas men are encouraged to drink till they drop."
"I think that'll do for that list," I sighed. "Boy list now."
"For starters no periods, PMS or Pregnancy."
"They don't care if they gain weight."
"They can eat whatever they want."
"They're not bitchy or conniving."
"Immune to gossip and rumors."
"Allowed to be fashion void and comfortable."
"They figure drunken chicks are just easy bait."
"Double standards work to their advantage."
"They get to have lots of pockets in their comfortable clothes and only carry a wallet."
"The whole world is their toilet."
"Burping and farting is encouraged."
"They have it easier socially, put a beer in their hands and the football on TV and they don't shut up for a month about it."
"Guys defiantly have it easier..." Kathy sighed in resignationas she finished typing.
"Don't they just?" I frowned, looking forward to just taking it easy for two weeks.