Ethan’s World

by Daphne Childress

Ethan Martin and his mother live a simple life in a small Southern town... with a twist: She makes dresses to pay the bills and he helps out as best he can.
 

Chapter Forty-One: Claire

How “frenemies” are born.
 

Ethan was breathless. He’d done it. After weeks—no, months—of shy glances, awkward encounters, and imagined conversations that never quite happened, he had finally—finally!—asked Claire Madison out on a date. And she had said… yes!

He ran all the way home, his schoolbag bouncing awkwardly against his side. The moment he burst through the front door, his voice rang through the house: “Mom! She said yes! She said yes!”

Colleen appeared from her sewing room, glasses perched on her nose, a measuring tape draped like a scarf around her neck. “Who said yes to what, darling?” she asked, brushing a wisp of hair behind her ear.

“Claire! I—I asked her out! On a date!”

Colleen’s lips curled into a warm smile. “You finally did it, huh?”

Ethan nodded rapidly. “I can’t believe I asked her out—and she accepted! This is gonna be great!”

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “You like her a lot, don’t you?”

“I’ve liked her for a long time,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Ever since fourth grade. I wasn’t sure if she liked me—I mean, sometimes I wondered, you know, how she sometimes teases me and all that—but she must because I asked her and she said yes!”

“Well then,” Colleen said with a sigh of motherly satisfaction, “I am truly happy for you, honey.” She turned, glancing at a polka dot party dress draped across the mannequin. “But before love can conquer all, we still have deadlines to meet. Why don’t you slip into some panties and a bra, then help me with this new design? I want to send photos to the buyers before tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, Mom…” Ethan whined, his excitement briefly dimming.

But he complied, as always. Mother was still the boss.

 

* * *
 

On the evening of the big date, Ethan dressed with care and determination. He wore a crisp, short-sleeved shirt with a subtle plaid pattern, a pair of freshly pressed navy slacks, and his best loafers—polished to a shine. He had even gone to the barber earlier that day for a tidy haircut, just long enough to be fashionable but short enough to feel manly.

“Things are gonna be different,” he whispered to himself. “She thinks I’m just some mama’s boy. But she’ll see—we’ll spend some time together, she’ll get to know the real me—after this she won’t even remember anything about Emily. I’ll show her the real Ethan Martin!”

Downstairs, Colleen gave him an appraising once-over and smiled proudly. “You’re so handsome,” she said. “My little guy is growing up to be a man.”

“Oh, Mom,” Ethan blushed, but allowed her to kiss him softly on the lips and hug him to her chest, surrounded by the scent of lavender and starch.

Then came a knock at the door.

Claire stood on the porch looking casual in a pleated skirt and a sleeveless blouse, her curls bouncing as she stepped inside. “Hi, Mrs. Martin,” she said politely, then turned to Ethan with a smile. “Hey, you look… nice.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, suddenly unsure. Her smile was warm, but there was something behind it—uncertainty, maybe. Disappointment? He couldn’t tell.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh… did you want to walk to the shopping center? We can get something to eat there. Or we could catch the movie instead—my mom can drive us.”

Claire hesitated, her fingers toying with the hem of her blouse. “Well…” she said slowly. “Can I—I… tell you something?”

“Of course,” he said, suddenly nervous.

“I was kind of hoping…” She bit her lip. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

Ethan frowned. This wasn’t good. Was she standing him up?

Clair sighed. “The truth is, Ethan, I was hoping to go out with, um… Emily.”

“Wait. What?”

“I mean—I like you, Ethan. I really do. I love you, in fact. But I thought maybe… I dunno. It would be fun. To go out with you … as Emily. Just for tonight? Please?”

Ethan stared at her. His heart, which had been beating like a drum, suddenly felt like it had fallen into his stomach. “But I—I got ready. I got a haircut. I… I thought—”

Claire leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Please? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

From the living room, Colleen—who had been sipping tea and not at all pretending not to eavesdrop—raised her eyebrows and quietly set down her cup.

“For me?” she murmured. “Just this once?”

A second kiss—this time on his lips, just a light brush—did it.

Ethan sighed and nodded, barely. “Okay. I guess.”

As he trudged upstairs, Claire looked suddenly guilty. Colleen approached, arms crossed loosely, eyes intensely locked on the teenager.

“He really does like you,” she said.

Claire sighed. “I know. But Emily is just… she’s so amazing. I can’t help myself.”

Colleen smiled gently. “Oh, I get it. I really do. Emily is special. But so is Ethan. Just… try to not forget that.”

 

* * *
 

Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Then a few minutes more.

Claire and Colleen were discussing the latest fashion trends when the sound of heels on the staircase made them look up in unison.

A lone figure descended slowly, carefully, as if each step were a performance.

Emily wore a short minidress in a bold floral print, vivid shades of red mixed with white, blooming like sunshine across the bell sleeves and A-line silhouette. A white belt cinched her body just below the bodice, enhancing her slight feminine shape. Her legs shined from a waxing—a souvenir from the recent school play—and ended in white patent sandals with bright red roses on the instep. A dainty white purse dangled from the crook of her arm.

Her hair was a fluffy, butter-blonde bob wig—another one of Penelope’s gifts—styled with curled bangs and cheerful flips at the ends, like a 1960s teen model. A pair of gold hoop earrings peeked out beneath her hair.

She wore just enough makeup to glow: a touch of mascara, peachy blush, and pink gloss that caught the light. Her fingernails and toenails glowed with pearlescent pink polish. A silver charm bracelet glistered around her naked ankle.

To her audience, this version of Emily looked more like a sixteen, seventeen old high schooler from the big city, nothing at all like a small-town scruffy boy of thirteen.

Claire’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh… my… gosh,” she whispered.

Colleen was equally stunned. “Baby, you look amazing!” she said. “I know you hate it when I say this, but you really are radiant!”

The blonde girl didn’t say a word. Her expression was vague… mysterious… enigmatic, even.

Colleen pursed her lips, thinking aloud— “Seriously, I forgot all about that dress. But… I thought we sold out of that style.” Her eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth twitched. “But this isn’t… quite the same, is it?”

Emily blushed. Because beneath the façade, the hair, the makeup, the dress, beneath everything, it actually was Ethan standing at the bottom of the stairs. Not Emily. Emily was just a dream.

Or was she?

Ethan spoke, his voice breathy and light… in Emily’s voice.

“You’re right, Mother—we sold them all. I put this one together last weekend with the leftover fabric. I made a few changes, added the belt and sleeves, raised the waistline a bit… you know. I saw something like this in one of Aunt DeeDee’s old movies. I thought… well, I think it turned out nice.”

Colleen practically beamed. “Mercy, child! Those are all brilliant choices. You look like a fashion plate.” She frowned for a moment, her mind in business mode. “This could be a best seller for us. Next week we’ll add all of your changes and offer it as a whole new outfit!”

Claire clapped her hands. “Oh my, I feel seriously underdressed.” She rushed over and plucked and pulled at Ethan’s dress in genuine admiration. “Seriously, Emily—you’re more girl than I am! How can you both design and make a dress like that… and then look so good in it? Who does that?”

“My daughter, apparently,” Colleen replied proudly.

Ethan just stood there, his emotions warring between frustration and pride.

Colleen offered to drive the pair across town to a quiet shopping plaza with some shops and an open-air café. “Better to avoid the usual crowd,” she said with a wink.

Ethan rode in the back seat with Claire, his legs crossed at the knee, charm bracelet clicking, trying not to think about how ridiculous all of this was—or how good it felt to be admired.

Claire chatted the whole way, giddy now. “I can’t believe how cute you look. I wish I had your hair.”

“You can,” Ethan muttered. “It cost a lot of money, though. You’ll have to ask Auntie Penelope where she got it.”

“Oh you!” Claire giggled. “And that walk—it took me a whole year to get used to heels. You’ve only worn them since summer and you act like you were born in them.”

“I wasn’t.”

There was another laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Ethan was still sulking when his mother dropped them off at the plaza. Which made him oddly more alluring in a pouty fashion model kind of way.

“Try to have fun, baby,” Colleen whispered warmly. “It’ll be all right.”

For a while the two teenagers wandered the boutique windows, Claire talking a mile a minute and giggling like usual, Ethan nodding and smiling politely. Claire asked his opinion on handbags, earrings, and shoes. He answered with knowledge and experience—which came naturally when he dressed as Emily. He was aware, always, of the mask he wore—but also how seamlessly it fit his face.

Rather than fret, the cross-dressed boy studied the various styles and trends on display in each store they visited, making mental notes of things he’d later discuss with his mother. It wasn’t often that he got direct access to the fancier fashion shops, so in a way this was a blessing in disguise.

They ate at the outdoor café, two young fashionistas taking a break from an evening of window-shopping. Eyes followed them as they took their seats, many of them focused on the pretty blonde wearing the colorful minidress with the belle sleeves and the silver bracelet on her ankle.

Their orders were light: diet soft drinks, summer salads and sherbet for dessert—orange for Claire, lemon for Ethan. It all felt like a playdate in someone else’s life.

Midway through their dessert, Ethan worked up the courage to speak.

“Someone—a girl I once knew—tried to explain to me about having lunch with a girlfriend she hated.” He poked his spoon into his sherbet. “She said it was a vibe. I didn’t understand what that meant until now.”

Claire looked up, startled. Or at least pretended to be. “Oh?” She thought for a moment. “Sooo, do you… hate me for something?”

“Maybe. Dunno.” He realized he was using his Ethan voice, not sounding anything at all like Emily. “I was mad at you, though. Still am.”

“Mad about what?”

Ethan sighed. “What do you think, Claire? I was excited about our date. I wanted it to be… normal. You and me. A boy and girl, not a girl and a girl.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

He looked at her, searching. “I don’ t think I believe you.”

“I deserve that.” Claire played with her spoon. “The thing is, you’re fun, Ethan. Really, you are. And I do like you. But… you’re more like… my brother. Not really a boyfriend.” She gave him a sidelong look. “Know what I mean?”

Ethan frowned. There it was. The one thing he’d feared, that he’d dreaded.

Her… brother? Yech!

“Don’t be like that,” she admonished. “You’re still special to me. You always have been and will be. But—Emily… is more than that. She’s… really, really special. And you’re so good at being her. I know it sounds dumb, and it probably hurts your feelings to hear this, but I’m not gonna lie.”

“Then don’t.”

“Okay.” Claire sighed. “Well… when I’m with you like this, as Emily, I feel safer. Happier. Maybe even smarter and prettier, even though right now you’re so gorgeous you put me to shame.”

“Not helping.”

The flustered girl nodded. “I get that. Still, when I’m with you—like this—I can be silly, or girly, or more of myself, and you won’t judge me. Not as Emily you won’t, I guess. Not that you would as Ethan… as you.” She sighed. “The fact is, you’re my best girlfriend.”

Ethan bristled. “Girlfriend. Just what a guy wants to hear from a girl.”

“A guy? What guy? You’re not a real guy! ” Claire caught herself and looked around—fortunately, no one seemed be paying attention to their conversation. Still, she lowered her voice. “And yes, I know you’re not really a girl, either, but just look at yourself. You’re not just some guy!”

The cross-dressed boy pouted. “So… you’re saying… this is my fault?”

“I’m not saying anything is anybody’s fault. But… come on. When you dress like this—” Claire waved her spoon at him— “and act like… well, Emily, you’re amazing! You’re way more than just any guy—and most girls.”

“So why don’t you just hang with Tara or Maddy or the other girls?”

Claire snorted. “Have you met Tara and Maddy? They’re cute and all, but sometimes they can be awful.

Ethan nodded. “So I noticed.”

“Then you know what I’m talking about.” Claire shrugged, poking at her sherbet. “I mean, I like them and whatever, but they’re always competing or arguing over boys or making up drama. You’re different. You’re kind, eager to please. You listen, you think… and you always know what to say. I can talk to you. Be myself.”

“But… you can talk to me as me. You know, as Ethan. What’s wrong with that?”

Claire shook her head. “Not the same. I can’t talk to boys—not even you—the way I can talk to, you know, Emily.”

“I wanted this to be—” Ethan struggled with the words—”you know, like you were my girlfriend.”

Claire smiled. “But I am your girlfriend. And you’re mine!”

Ethan pouted. This wasn’t the romance he’d hoped for. Not even close. But it was something. Sort of.

They did some more window shopping, this time with Ethan being a little more engaged. Claire made sure they linked arms, bumped hips and shoulders as girls do. She did most of the talking—playful, unbothered by their earlier conversation—while Ethan smiled and nodded when expected. All the while wondering … How is this going to end?

Colleen picked them up at the corner where she dropped them off three hours earlier.

“Have fun?” she asked.

Ethan shrugged and nodded. Claire beamed.

Back home, Colleen excused herself, something about making a phone call. Claire lingered on the porch—her home was only a block or so away.

“Well,” she said. “I guess I should get going.”

Ethan brushed his hair back behind his ear and nodded. “Thanks. For tonight. I guess.”

“You guess, huh?” Claire’s mouth did a little twitch, a hint of a smile. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

She suddenly leaned in and kissed Emily—not Ethan the boy, not in her mind, but Emily the girl—on the lips. Just a light, warm kiss.

Ethan’s eyes widened. He started to pull away, but then forced himself to relax and let events take their course.

Please let this be real… please….

“I’ve been wanting to do this for some time.” Claire smiled, and she kissed him again. This time, though, she wrapped her arms around Ethan’s waist, pulling him close, not letting go. She pressed her belly against his, sending the surprised boy into a swoon.

“Very nice,” she said as she nibbled at his lip. “I always wondered what it would be like, kissing a girl. Now I know,” she cooed. “Me and my pretty little Emily.”

Sensing a lull, Ethan tried kissing Claire back, but she pulled away, giving him a smug grin. “Nuh-uh, naughty-naughty. Yes for me… but no for you,” she purred, punctuating her decree with a tap on the nose. “No kissing girls for Ethan—but I have special plans for Emily.”

Ethan was frustrated. Despite what Claire may have thought, she was not the only, or even the first girl he’d ever kissed. Memories of Ivy flooded his mind, and he couldn’t help but compare that experience with what he was going through at the moment. Ivy was playful and loving and genuine—she actually cared about him—while Claire was taunting and frustrating, mean-spirited even.

She’s not doing this because she likes me, he realized. She’s doing this because she—

He lost his train of thought when Claire’s hand suddenly slid down the front of his dress, her fingers lightly caressing his belly, then pressing down toward his crotch. He squirmed for an instant, eliciting an evil snicker from the eager girl. Caught up in her wide-eyed, gleeful expression—and a glimmer of hope—he let her have her way… and tried to not faint or fall over from excitement.

“Stand still, Emily—don’t you dare move a muscle.” Claire smirked, slipping her hand beneath the hem of his skirt. She held him in her gaze as she traced a line around his bare thigh until she felt the smooth, featureless spandex panel on the front of his panty girdle. “Just as I thought,” she sang happily. “Something is missing!”

“I, um—” Ethan squirmed as he tried to gather his thoughts—”M-mother thought it might be a good idea if I wore, uh… something to hide… my… self.”

He winced as he realized how stupid he sounded.

“Oh, I get it. And I love it!” Claire’s mouth curled into a wicked smile. “I thought maybe there might still be a little bit of a boy under your skirt, but nope—there’s nothing there! It’s so flat… no bulge or bumps or anything—just like a girl. How perfect!”

Ethan pouted. “You know, I’m still a boy. Not really… a girl. I’m still… me.”

“Are you? Really? I don’t think so.” She ran her fingers over the barren, sexless front of his girdle again and giggled. “You can’t prove it by me, girlfriend.”

“Don’t be mean, Claire!” He pushed her hand away. “If I did that to you—”

“But you didn’t.” she cut him off with a sharp laugh. “You didn’t even try.”

Ethan frowned. “I didn’t think… you’d want—”

“You know, Emily—” Claire stretched out the name as though she were singing it— “if a guy touched you down there he’d swear you were a real girl. He’d just grab your junk and never know any better. Isn’t that hilarious? Wouldn’t it be fun if we got a boy to do that?”

“No, it’s not hilarious!” Ethan was furious. He blushed at the thought and felt ill. “And it would not be fun, not at all! Not for me, it wouldn’t!”

“Oh, lighten up! It would too and you know it.” She arched an eyebrow. “And don’t be such a tease. Boys won’t like you if you overdo that.”

“I’m not being a tease!” The cross-dressed boy bristled. “I keep telling you, I don’t want to date a guy! End of story!”

“That’s a lie, you little hypocrite.” Claire looked him up and down and sneered. “I mean, just look at you, Emily. Why else do you dress this way? You’re gorgeous, sexy… you’re… perfect. And you know it—don’t you dare tell me you don’t! Isn’t that what you want—to be in the arms of a boy? Maybe even a big strong man? Why else would you go through all this trouble, what with all the dresses and the hair and the lipstick?” She bared her teeth, her expression a dare. “Tell me the truth, Emily.”

Ethan bit his lip. He didn’t have a good answer. He felt his eyes burn as he struggled with his words.

“But… I wanted … I want … to date you,” he murmured.

“Mmm, that’s not going to happen.” Claire licked her lips. “Like I said, I got plans for Emily. And it’s spelled B-O-Y.” Her tone of voice was as wicked as the grin on her face. “I’m going to find her a boy!”

“Me… and a… boy?” Ethan’s heart dropped.

She giggled. “Yep. I’m going to set you—well, Emily... whatever—up on a date. With a big, tough, handsome boy… maybe a man—someone who’ll prove my point.”

“Prove your point? About what?”

There was that giggle again. “So you can see that I’m right. That you need a guy in your life.” She put her lips to his ear, her warm breath giving him a shiver. “Sweetie, I guarantee any guy who makes out with Emily won’t know the difference. You’ll see!”

“I don’t think so.” Ethan recoiled at the suggestion. He watched helplessly as she backed away, a huge, wicked grin on her smug face. “I’m not going out with some guy, Claire! Not no way, not no how! Not ever!”

“Challenge accepted!” The happy girl headed down the street, her silhouette soft in the twilight. She looked over her shoulder and giggled. “Oh yeah, that’s going to happen, all right. And I know exactly the perfect guy to teach you a lesson.”

“You’re wasting your time!” Ethan called after her. But he was too late. She was gone.

He stood on the porch for a little while, his emotions whirling and twirling to the point he felt nauseous. After a few minutes he calmed down enough to go inside.

 

* * *
 

“Well?” Colleen was waiting in the parlor, a single eyebrow arched. “You were on the porch a long time. What was all that shouting?”

“It was… just me… being stupid.”

“Didn’t you have fun?” His mother smiled. “It sure looks like it. Your lipstick is a mess.”

“Sure. Maybe.” Ethan shrugged. “No, not really, though. I don’t think.”

Colleen started to reach for him, then paused. “Baby, are you okay?”

Ethan shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know, Mom. I don’t feel so good,” he murmured. “I think maybe I need a bath.”

“Good idea.” Colleen nodded. “Go on up, my love. I’ll be here if you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” Ethan smiled faintly and climbed the stairs.

 

Next: Date with a Bully.