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It starts, as most things in Bobby’s life do, with a dare.
It’s Sunset Curve movie night, they’re all a little tipsy off of Bobby’s dad’s secret beer stash, and they’re playing truth or dare.
It’s been fairly uneventful so far. Alex finally admitted that he was the one to break Luke’s guitar string, which they had all known but let him blame on the stray cat who sleeps in the studio sometimes. Alex dared Reggie to lick Luke’s shoe, and Reggie dared Luke to jump off the loft, which Bobby quickly put a stop to. Luke ended up having to eat some of the food they leave out for the stray instead. The verdict: not terrible. It’s a pretty standard game, boring even.
Until Luke dares Bobby to wear one of his mom’s dresses for the rest of the game.
“What?” Bobby sputters.
“You heard me,” Luke shrugs.
Bobby’s heart pounds as he studies his friend for any sign that this is some cruel prank. That Luke somehow knows about the hours on end Bobby’s spent staring at those dresses and wondering what they would feel like on him. He can’t know, right?
“No,” Bobby says finally. “I’m not doing that.”
Luke rolls his eyes and flops back down into Reggie’s lap. “No one’s gonna revoke your man card for wearing a dress, Bobbers.”
Bobby tries to laugh. He really does. He should just laugh it off as the joke it clearly is to Luke, because if it’s just a joke he doesn’t have to admit how badly he actually wants it.
“You know the rules, Bobbert,” Reggie chimes in. “If you turn down a dare you have to streak down the street.”
Is it bad that that seems like the better option right now?
He’s never turned down a dare before though, not even when Alex dared him to skinny dip in his neighbor’s pool. He can’t explain why this is where he draws the line without inviting more questions he can’t answer.
“Fine,” Bobby grumbles, like this is just a dumb dare from his dumb friends and not the most thrilling and/or terrifying thing he’s ever done. “Whatever.”
The boys cheer him on as he gets up and leaves the studio, which only makes him feel worse. Somehow he doesn’t think they’d react like that if they knew how he was really feeling.
By the time he reaches his mom’s closet, he feels like he’s going to be sick. He opens it up and examines the dresses. He rubs his fingers over the fabric of his favorite one, the one he’s spent hours daydreaming about wearing onstage, on a date, on a random outing with the boys. It’s a white sundress, with sunflowers printed all over it and a sweetheart neckline. It’s so pretty it makes Bobby’s chest ache.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he rips off his shirt, grabs the dress, and tugs it on over his jeans.
He can’t bring himself to look in the mirror. The neckline feels weird. It’s much lower on his chest than he’s used to. But it might not be a bad weird.
His heart feels like a kick drum in his chest, like when Alex is angry and plays so loud it shakes the whole studio. He can do this.
He opens his eyes.
All the breath is knocked from his body. He looks… not like a girl, exactly, but good. He feels good. He feels right.
And there’s no way in hell he can face the guys like this. They’ll know as soon as they see him that there’s something more to this. He can’t hide the whirlwind of feelings—the excitement, the terror, the euphoria.
He admires himself for a moment more in the mirror, then carefully takes the dress off and puts it back on its hanger.
As soon as he gets back to the studio, he’s greeted with groans of disappointment.
“Boooooo,” Luke calls. “Chicken.“
“Whatever,” Bobby grunts. “I’ll just take the punishment.”
It’ll be unpleasant, sure, but not as unpleasant as showing this side of himself to the guys, a side he knows they can’t understand or maybe even tolerate. That side belongs in his mom’s closet, in an empty house, with no one around to judge it. That’s where he’ll keep it, for as long as he possibly can.
Even if it means he has to go streaking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s been two weeks, and Bobby has not been able to stop thinking about it.
He hasn’t put the dress—or any dress—back on since truth or dare, but it’s all he thinks about anymore. It’s constantly at the back of his mind, calling to him, begging him to try it on just one more time.
He always knew there was something off about him. Being a boy never felt like it fit quite right, but he tried his damn hardest to make it fit. He became gruff and stoic and tough like his brothers. He taught himself how to act like the men around him, how to blend in seamlessly. By the time he hit puberty and developed broad shoulders and deep voice, it was set in stone. That’s the only Bobby the guys know, that anyone in the rest of the world knows.
But there’s still a part of him, deep down, that constantly aches to wear flowy clothes, to wear makeup, to be called she.
That’s not how the world works, though, so that stays deep down.
But he can’t stop thinking about it.
He’s home alone. He’s always home alone. But his parents were back for a grand total of twenty minutes yesterday, which means it’ll be at least a month until Bobby sees them again.
In the safety of an empty house, he sneaks back into his mom’s closet. He grabs his favorite dress and a couple more, then dashes back to his room even though there’s no one around to catch him.
It takes him another twenty minutes to build the courage up—twenty minutes filled with pacing and chewing his nails and eyeing the dresses like they’ll suddenly spring up and attack him—and then he finally slips on the sunflower dress, this time without his jeans beneath it.
He feels just as giddy and just as terrified as the first time he wore it. He loves how it shows off his chest; he loves how it hugs his waist, making his hips look more defined; he loves the way the hem swishes around his thighs and flares out as he twirls.
He wonders if he could get away with stealing some makeup, either from his mom or from the store. He wonders if he should grow his hair out or shave his legs. He wonders if he should be calling himself she.
He doesn’t get long to go down that rabbit hole, however, before his daydreams are shattered by the sound of footsteps stomping up the stairs.
Bobby freezes like a deer in headlights, powerless to do anything as his bedroom door swings open.
“Hey, Bobbers, I forgot my— Oh.” Alex freezes with his mouth agape, his eyes sweeping over Bobby’s outfit.
“Get out.” Bobby backs up like a cornered animal, breaths coming in erratic bursts. “Get out!”
Alex does the smart thing and turns tail, slamming the door shut behind him.
“Fuck,” Bobby moans. “Fuck!”
He’s ruined everything. Alex is going to tell the others what a freak Bobby is, and they’ll finally come to their senses and leave him, and he’ll be left all alone with nothing and no one again, like his parents tried to do when he was eight. They would have succeeded if it weren’t for the stubborn devotion of Luke Patterson and the two kids he dragged around like lost puppies, and now Bobby’s going to lose them too.
“Bobby?” Alex’s tentative voice comes through the door.
Bobby groans and sinks to the floor, curling up against the door.
“I’m sorry,” Alex continues after it’s clear Bobby isn’t going to talk. “I know I wasn’t supposed to see that. But… it’s okay, you know? If… if you want to, um, dress like a girl or whatever. That’s okay.”
What if it’s not just dressing like a girl? Bobby wants to ask. What if I want to be a girl?
Alex lets the silence drag on for a moment, then offers, “You looked really good.”
Bobby has to choke back a sob as a burning humiliation curls in his gut. He wants so desperately to be able to take the compliment, but all he can think about is that Alex saw enough to have an opinion on it. Enough to know that looking good like this is something Bobby wants.
“I…I’m gonna go,” Alex says slowly. “I get the feeling you don’t want me here right now. I won’t say anything to the others. But you can talk to me about this stuff, okay? If or whenever you’re ready. I’m here for you.”
Bobby breaks, bursting into full sobs. Alex has seen his deepest shame, and he’s still here. He still wants to stay.
Bobby throws the bedroom door open and collapses into Alex’s arms.
“Hey,” Alex says quietly, rubbing a hand in soothing circles down Bobby’s back. “It’s okay.”
“I’m so fucked up, Alex,” Bobby chokes out.
“You’re not,” Alex says firmly. “Whatever’s going on, you are not fucked up.”
Bobby hugs him tighter and Alex brings a hand up to stroke Bobby’s hair.
“Come on,” Alex says. “Let’s sit down.”
Bobby lets Alex lead him over to the bed, where they sit down right next to the pile of dresses. Alex settles an arm over Bobby’s shoulder and Bobby avoids his eyes, picking at a loose thread on the hem of the dress instead.
“Don’t do that,” Alex chides softly, taking Bobby’s hand. “You’ll ruin your pretty dress.”
“Sorry,” Bobby mumbles, because apologizing is easier than examining the way his stomach flips at being called pretty. “‘M sorry I yelled at you.”
“You were scared,” Alex shrugs with a kind smile. “I did the same thing when Luke caught me kissing Davey Jacobs in the eighth grade.”
That startles a laugh out of Bobby. “That’s how you came out to Luke?” Alex has always refused to explain how the guitarist had found out before the rest of them, and his death glares were enough to keep Luke silent on the subject.
“Yeah,” Alex chuckles. “It was the most mortifying moment of my life.”
“Yeah,” Bobby whispers, all humor suddenly gone. “I get that.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Bobby,” Alex says. “I meant what I said. It’s okay. This is okay.”
“How?” Bobby demands. “How can this be okay?”
Alex pauses for a moment, then instead of an answer, he says, “Do you know why I can’t rehearse on Sunday nights?”
Bobby shakes his head. “Some church thing?”
“That’s what I tell Luke to keep him off my back,” Alex says. “I really go to a drag club.”
“What’s a drag club?”
“It’s a club with performances where men dress like women.”
Bobby feels like he’s had the wind punched out of him. “What?”
“They’re called drag queens,” Alex explains. “I don’t actually do the drag—I go for dance lessons, they have this really cool style of dance— but these queens are some of the coolest people I’ve ever met. None of them are embarrassed to dress the way they want to. They’re proud of it.”
“That’s— I didn’t—“ Bobby can’t find the words to explain how life-changing that is. He’s not alone.
“You could come with me tonight,” Alex says. “I can introduce you to some of them.”
“Really?” Bobby asks.
“Yeah,” Alex nods. “I think you’ll like it there.”
“Do I have to, um… I mean. What should I wear?”
Alex puts a supportive hand on Bobby’s knee. “You can wear whatever you want. I think you’ll have more fun if you dress like you, though.”
“Oh,” Bobby says, dejected, “you mean—“
“I mean the real you,” Alex cuts him off. “Whatever you feel the real you dresses like.”
Bobby nods and Alex gives him a small smile.
“I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As soon as they step inside the club, Bobby feels like he’s been transported into a different world. Everyone in the place looks like a woman, but tall women with broad shoulders and deep voices and Adam’s apples, and for the very first time Bobby sees what he wants to look like someday.
Bobby tugs at his dress nervously, straightening out the hem. Alex drags him over to the bar, where a tall drag queen in an outrageous white wig and a dress that looks like it was sewn out of straightjackets cleans glasses.
“Alex!” the queen calls. “You brought a friend!”
“Hi Adele!” Alex calls back. “This is my bandmate Bobby. Bobbers, this is Adele Lerious.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you Bobby.” Adele extends a hand for Bobby to shake. “Alex talks about you all the time.”
Bobby can’t really find any words; he just stares in awe. Thankfully, Alex seems content to do the talking for him.
“Adele is my dance teacher,” Alex tells Bobby. “She’s amazing.“
She, Bobby notes with a little thrill.
“Darling, please,” Adele rolls her eyes. “I’m phenomenal.”
“Right,” Alex agrees. “Anyways, I wanted to introduce Bobby to you and the girls because drag might be something he’s interested in, and I thought you might be able to give him some advice.”
“I can do better than advice,” Adele says, her eyes raking over Bobby. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling way too seen. “How about a makeover?”
“Um, okay?” Bobby manages to stutter out.
Adele claps her hands and comes out from behind the bar to take Bobby by the wrist. She leads him back to the dressing room. Alex tries to follow them in, but Adele stops him.
“No boys allowed.”
Bobby kind of likes the sound of that.
Inside the dressing room, Adele leads him past dozens of queens at cluttered vanities to one in the back corner.
“Okay, Miss Bobby,” Adele says as she pushes him down onto the chair. “First things first, we need to deal with your name.”
“What’s wrong with my name?” Bobby asks.
“Nothing,” Adele says, “it’s just a little too drab for a queen. Who’s your favorite musician?”
“I don’t know,” Bobby shrugs, “Joni Mitchell, I guess?”
“Perfect,” Adele declares. “Within this club, you’ll hereby be known as Joni Bitchell.”
Bobby can’t stop the giggle that escapes him. “I like that.”
“Good,” Adele nods. “So Joni, what kind of look are we going for?”
Bobby frowns, looking around at the queens surrounding them. They’re all wearing extravagant makeup and outfits, everything way too extreme to be worn on a daily basis. Bobby doesn’t really want to draw attention like that; he just wants to look pretty, like the girls he sees at school.
His eyes fall on a queen who’s just coming into the dressing room. She carries a duffel bag of supplies, but she’s wearing a simple black dress and plain makeup. She’s not wearing a wig, but her hair is long and blonde.
“How come she doesn’t look as extravagant as the rest of you?” Bobby asks.
Adele follows his gaze. “Oh, Katie’s not really a drag queen. She’s a transsexual.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she’s a real woman, but she was born like you and me.”
Bobby’s entire world shifts on its axis. “You can… you can do that?”
“Of course you can,” Adele says, like it’s no big deal. She leans a little closer to Bobby, studying him. “Why? Is that… what you feel like?”
Bobby nods, tears slipping from his eyes. No— her eyes.
“Oh, honey,” Adele coos. “Come here. It’s okay.” She wraps Bobby up in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you for admitting that. It’s not easy. It probably won’t be very easy going forward either, but as long as you have friends like Alex who’ll love you as you are, it’s all gonna be okay.”
Bobby sobs into Adele’s chest. “But I don’t look like a girl. I don’t sound like a girl.”
“You’d be amazed at what a little makeup can do,” Adele chuckles. “And there are treatments for this kind of stuff, but listen to me, Joni. If you feel like a girl, you are a girl. Period. End of story. Doesn’t matter what you look like, doesn’t matter what you sound like. You’re perfect exactly the way you are.”
“Thank you,” Bobby sobs. “Thank you.”
“Of course, baby.” Adele pushes her back and uses a manicured finger to swipe the tears off her cheek. “Do you still want me to doll you up?”
Bobby nods. “I’d really like that,” she says.
“I’ll teach you how to do it, okay?” Adele says. “That way you can do it on your own.”
Bobby nods, listening intently as Adele begins to show her what makeup to use and how to apply it. Other queens drift over here and there to give her little bits of advice, like how to get her eyeliner just right, how to find a shade of foundation that matches her skin tone, how to do her nails and take care of them. They’re all so nice and supportive that it makes Bobby want to cry, but she doesn’t out of fear of ruining her makeup.
“Look how gorgeous you are,” Adele says once they’ve finished.
Bobby laughs, an elated feeling filling her chest for the first time since she can remember. “This is how I’ve always wanted to look,” she admits. She reaches up and touches her hair, then adds. “Well, with longer hair.”
“I can help with that,” Adele winks.
She disappears for a moment, then comes back with a long black wig. “This used to be Katie’s,” she explains. “She doesn’t need it anymore since she grew her hair out. It’s yours until yours is a length you like.”
“Are you sure?” Bobby asks.
“Positive.” Adele rips open an unopened wig cap and helps Bobby put it on, then secures the wig on her head.
Bobby turns to look at herself in the mirror, and finds the Bobby she always imagined looking back at her.
“I— I look like me,” she whispers, running a hand over the wig.
“You look beautiful,” Adele says. “Do you want to go show Alex?”
Bobby nods. Her heart is pounding in her chest again, but this time it’s only half terror. This time there’s excitement too. There’s euphoria.
Adele leads Bobby back out of the dressing room to where Alex is waiting by the bar.
“May I present Miss Joni Bitchell!”
Alex turns to look at Bobby, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
“Wow, Bobby—“
“Ah ah ah,” Adele tuts. “Tonight, she’s Joni.”
“Joni,” Alex corrects himself. “You look amazing.”
“Really?” Bobby asks.
“I mean it,” Alex nods. “You’re gorgeous.”
Bobby grins bashfully, casting her eyes to the floor. “I, um, I feel really good.”
“Yeah?” Alex asks.
“Yeah,” Bobby nods. She takes a deep breath then looks Alex in the eye. “I— I think I want to be she all the time. Not just tonight.”
“Okay,” Alex grins. “Then she it is. Thanks for telling me.”
Bobby pulls Alex into a hug. “Thank you for… for everything. All of this.”
“Of course, Bobbers— er, Joni? Is that your name all the time now too?”
“Nah,” Bobby laughs. “Bobby’s still fine.”
“Okay,” Alex says. “I’m really proud of you, Bobby.”
Bobby squeezes Alex tighter. “Stop it. If you make me cry I’m going to ruin my makeup.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex giggles. “Do you want to stay for the show?”
“Yeah,” Bobby grins. “That sounds awesome.“
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When they get back to Bobby’s house, the garage lights are on.
“Are Luke and Reggie here?” Bobby asks.
“Must be,” Alex says. “Both bikes are here.” He cuts the van’s engine. “We don’t have to talk to them tonight. We can go right up to the house.”
Bobby hesitates, looking down at her newly manicured nails. “No,” she decides. “I want to tell them.”
“Okay.” Alex gives her hand a supportive squeeze.
They get out of the van together, but Bobby stalls at the garage doors. Alex gives her a sympathetic look and slips inside.
“Hey guys,” she hears him say. “Bobby wants to talk to us about something.”
“Okay,” Reggie says. “Should we go find him, or…?”
Alex hesitates. “Bobby’s outside.”
“Oh, cool.” Bobby hears Luke get off the couch and move towards the door.
“Wait,” Bobby calls, cursing the way her voice cracks with nerves. “I’m going to come in, I just… You guys have to promise not to laugh.”
“Why would we laugh?” Luke asks. “Oh, man, did you dye your hair again? Please tell me it’s like, neon green this time.”
“Luke,” Alex hisses. “This is serious.”
Luke’s tone immediately sobers. “Sorry, Bobbers. I promise we won’t laugh.”
“Yeah, whenever you’re ready, man,” Reggie adds, followed by a light slapping sound. “Ow,” Reggie whines. “What was that for?”
Before Alex can retort and the inevitable bickering starts, Bobby opens the door and slips into the garage. Luke and Reggie freeze as she inches forward, eyes fixed on the floor.
“Oh,” Luke breathes.
“Bobby?” Reggie asks.
“Yeah,” Bobby says nervously, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s me.”
“You look, um… different,” Luke says.
“Not a bad different!” Reggie adds quickly. “Just… really different.”
“Yeah,” Luke agrees absently, “it’s, um. Wow.”
Bobby swallows hard. “This is. Um. This is how I’ve always wanted to dress.”
“It looks good on you,” Reggie says at the same time Luke asks, “Why?”
He’s promptly elbowed in the ribs by Alex.
“Because…” Bobby takes a deep breath. “Because I’m a girl.”
Alex moves to Bobby’s side and takes her hand.
Reggie frowns, confused. “You mean, like… you’ve been pretending to be a boy?”
“Sort of?” Bobby says with an awkward chuckle. “I was born a boy. I thought I was a boy until, like, today. But I want to be a girl.”
“She is a girl,” Alex corrects pointedly. “And she’s our best friend, so we’re going to support her, right?”
“Yeah of course,” Luke says, eyes widening with panic. “I’m so sorry, Bobbers, I didn’t mean to— I mean, of course I support you. Could you just… maybe explain it to us more at some point?”
“Yeah,” Reggie agrees. “I don’t really understand but I want to. And I’ll support you either way.”
“Thanks guys,” Bobby says, her lip trembling. She’s dangerously close to crying and ruining all of Adele’s hard work. “Can I— is it still okay if we hug?”
Luke’s face crumbles like Bobby’s personally insulted him. “Shit, Bobbers, of course it is. Come here.” He yanks her into a hug, and Bobby rests her forehead on his shoulder with a shaky breath. “I love you Bobby,” Luke whispers. “I’m really happy for you.”
Reggie wraps his arms around Bobby from behind. “You look really pretty, Bobbers.”
“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “Y’know, crowds go crazy for girl guitarists.”
Bobby laughs. If Luke’s mind is already back on music, then that means everything really is going to be alright.
“Well now I feel left out,” Alex pouts. “C’mere, knuckleheads.” He pulls all three of them into his arms. “I think we should take some of our gig money and get Bobbers some new clothes.”
“Makeup too!” Reggie adds.
“You guys don’t have to do that,” Bobby insists, but Luke shushes her.
“We want to, dumbass,” Luke says. “Let us treat our girl.”
Bobby grins, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Okay. I can do that.”
They end up all staying in the studio that night, gorging themselves on popcorn while Bobby explains how she knew she was a girl and how she wants to be referred to now. The boys nod along, eagerly soaking in the information. Bobby has never felt so happy, knowing that her boys are so intent on getting it right for her.
She’s known for a long time that she’s lucky to have these boys, but to have them in this moment, after her secret is out, knowing that they’re still hers, is the luckiest she’s ever felt.