“Pete,” he said softly, holding his arms open.

Pete's Vagina
87. Spikes
by Erin Halfelven

Jake looked bewildered when he saw me. “You missed it,” I said just to leave him wondering if he had missed something.

Joanna brayed a laugh right in his ear. “Gayle! With bangs and pants that aren’t football-appropriate. Burgundy even and a not-quite pink top.”

“It’s lavender,” I protested.

“C’mere,” she commanded, opening her arms to offer a hug.

I stepped close, and we wrapped arms around each other like friends. I wasn’t really sure Joanna qualified, but she even brushed my cheek with a kiss. “Sweet bangs,” she murmured. “They suit you, Pete.”

I stepped back, off-stride with Joanna being all lovey-dovey, but her colors didn’t run in the wash. She immediately poked Jake in the shoulder and demanded, “Now you hug her, you oak-headed lump! She deserves and needs it!”

Jake stepped close. “Pete,” he said softly, holding his arms open.

I glanced at Lee, but he was smiling around the Hasselblad, so I stepped close to my oldest friend. “Jake,” I said, barely more than a whisper.

“Give him a peck,” Joanna said. “But no tongue, your boyfriend is watching.”

I rolled my eyes—Joanna proving she wasn’t a pod person—and stood on tiptoe to kiss Jake on the cheek. I heard the multiple frick-frick-frick of the Hassie’s shutters. “Love you,” I whispered, then stepped back quickly to see his reaction. He turned red from his collar to the roots of his hair.

Joanna and I both laughed, and I heard Mom coughing behind me.

“Are you here to see Hunter in a dress, too?” Molly asked Joanna.

“The heck is Hunter?” Joanna asked. Jordan and Molly both pointed at me.

“What is that? Your middle name or something?”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause like I used to object to Gayle any time anyone called me that.” Now I was blushing. “And everyone who lives here is a Pete.” I numbered them off, “Daddy Pete, Momma Pete, Big Pete,” pointing at myself, “L’il Pete,” Jordan, “and Baby Pete is Molly.” Who scowled at me for tagging her as baby anything.

Outside, Wug announced the arrival of another car. Before I could even ask, Jordan admitted that “I may have called Megan to come and see the show about an hour ago.”

I rolled my eyes, moving toward the door. Sure enough, Megan, her new boyfriend Gogo, and her brother, Travis were coming up the walk. Travis? I wondered about that, but with all the hugging going on, I didn’t really get a chance to ask. But why was I thinking about saxophones?

Not even when Megan and Travis each got a kiss from me. I still love Megan and honestly, Travis is about the best-looking man in town, so he got a peck on the cheek. Gogo was out of luck—I don’t kiss halfbacks.

Joanna grabbed Megan and I and dragged us toward the hallway with “Let’s go help Pete get herself dolled up for the show,” she said cheerfully. Jordan tagged along, shooing Molly back toward the pizza and Chinese food.

“I’m not,” I tried to protest. “I don’t—-,” but Joanna isn’t head cheerleader because of her gentle arts of persuasion.

We arranged ourselves around the room, Joanna at the desk, Megan in the reading chair, Jordan across the bed and me standing, half-frozen in amusement mixed with indignation.”

“Let’s see what you’ve bought Petey-Gayle and I’ll tell you who actually picked what out,” Joanna declared. “And first of all, you chose those pants thinking consenting to wearing burgundy and nearly-pink would get you off the hook for trying on an actual dress.”

“Yeah, well,” I admitted. “But you’ve all seen me in a skirt— my Halloween costume last week.”

“And the first time you wore that, you got into a fight with those party-crashers Bev brought over to the ice cream social.”

“One of whom you kicked in the head,” I pointed out. I went to the closet and pulled out the flower-covered sweater dress.

“Least I wasn’t wearing a black eye for a week,” said Joanna. Then, “Your mom chose that one,” she added.

I held it up so everyone could see. “Well, she liked it and…I guess, I approved it in case she picked something even more embarrassing.”

Joanna cackled in triumph. “One for one, next!”

I passed the sundress to Jordan, who had something very like it in her closet.

Next I pulled out the skirt and blouse ensemble I had chosen myself.

“That’s your own choice, Pete,” said Joanna. “It’s not a dress, it’s separates. It’s probably what you’re planning to wear tomorrow on TV when they don’t have you in your pads.”

“Uh, yeah,” I admitted. “I thought it looked, kind of professional?”

“More secretarial,” jibed Joanna. “I’m two-for-two, or three-for-three counting your burgundy slacks.”

“You’re so fucking competitive, Joanna,” I complained.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I should be on the football team instead of our boy-turned-into-a-girl here! I bet we’d be undefeated, if I were.”

“We are undefeated,” I said.

“‘Cause the forfeit counts as a win,” put in Megan.

“Fucking Werewolves,” said Joanna. “If I’d been playing, they wouldn’t have chickened out for fear of hurting me. And we would have won!” She cackled that last, pumping a fist in the air. “Fucking Werewolves,” she repeated.

I glanced at Jordan, but Joanna wasn’t the first to drop an f-word in her presence— I was, and she was smirking back at me with a quirk of an eyebrow like she wanted to ask a question.

“Let’s see the next gown,” Joanna demanded. “Maybe it’s something you can wear as homecoming princess. I bet Jordan picked it out.”

“I did,” Jordan confessed.

I pulled out the last outfit we had bought, the one Jordan insisted that I should wear in front of the TF cameras tomorrow.

“You’ve got taste, kid,” said Joanna and Jordan beamed at her.

Mom had described it for me as a simple, sleeveless, high-collared tunic dress with a flared skirt. To me, it was blue.

“You definitely aren’t going to look like a boy wearing a dress in that! Wear it for your last turn in front of the crowd out there,” Joanna decided. “Put on the sweater dress now and go show your boyfriend what you’ll look like in fifteen years.”

“You guys have to leave first!” I protested.

“Why?” asked Joanna. “We’re all girls here—now.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m still getting used to it, okay.” I started to undo my blouse.

“Turn sideways a moment,” Joanna instructed me. I looked at her sideways first, then did as she wanted and glared with higher intensity.

“When did you turn into a c-cup, girl? That’s what gave you away to the Wolves.” She laughed, “Two months ago, you were as flat-chested as the other boys in the locker room.”

She started to laugh again, then noticed Jordan sitting up to kneel on the bed, looking from one to the other of us.

I think we all blinked.

“Is that what you meant when you said Pete was a boy who turned into a girl?” Jordan asked.