“Try not to give anyone a silhouette view.”

Another Country -10-
by Erin Halfelven

I got dressed in the clothes I had picked out before, then changed my mind and tried on something else. Long pants and I don’t really get along unless it is cold out and my part of California is seldom really cold, even in winter. I think the temp today might have reached 85 or 90, not unusual for March.

So I had lots of pairs of shorts. But I kind of needed something a bit dressier than, like, gym shorts. A khaki-colored pair with belt loops looked good, but the jeans shorts with cuffs looked…. Um. My legs looked really…. good. I had a pair of white jeans cut-offs, too, that made my skin look very tan.

I finally ended up back with the original set, turquoise shorts with a belt and a white polo shirt with a turquoise collar. Dressy, but casual, too. And…damn?

My nipples kind of showed through the shirt. The polo material was a bit thicker than any of my t-shirt-type tops but not thick enough, it seemed. I pulled the shirt off and found a t-shirt, put that on, then pulled the polo on over it.

No visible nipples but the sleeves bunched up and the collar of the t-shirt was visible at the neck. It looked…dorky.

Mom knocked on my door about then, calling out, “Bobby?”

I unlatched the door and opened it for her. She had got her own bath and wore something akin to what I had on: calf-length tapered cream-colored jeans and an orange and white blouse. She looked good, and I told her so. Mom will be forty before I get to college, but she’s beautiful in a mom sort of way.

“Thanks,” she said. “You look…cute,” she finished, and I could tell she was looking at my chest.

“No, I don’t!” I protested. “Wearing two shirts makes them bunch up, and it looks stupid!”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “It looks awful. Do your nipples show in just one shirt?”

“Uh-huh,” I moaned. “Maybe I’ll stay in my room tonight.”

“I’ve got something that will help, I think,” and she went back down the hall to her room. “Be right back.”

I had this horrible feeling she was going to show up with a bra for me to try on.

I pulled off both shirts and sat on the bed, glaring at my reflection. What was happening to me? Was I turning into a girl? It sounded like something from one of those supermarket tabloids that were filled with Elvis sightings and the love children of Sasquatch.

Mom came back in, holding something that looked a bit like a pale beige sleeveless T-shirt. She blinked when she saw me sitting on the bed without a shirt. I blushed.

She handed me the item. “Put this on under your polo,” she said.

I took it a little gingerly. “What is it?” I asked. It felt light as nothing, just plain smooth cloth with no decoration.

“It’s a chemise, opaque and skin color, and it’s made for exactly your problem, …things showing through clothing.” She was staring at my chest.

I squirmed a bit, glancing down, but I didn’t want to think about what I was seeing.“Huh?” I said. “What’s it made of? It’s so light.”

“It’s silk,” she said.

“Silk!” I don’t think I’d ever worn anything made of silk before.

“Put it on,” she urged. “Just like a T-shirt.”

I pulled the delicate fabric over my head and put my arms through the straps. It felt like cool nothing, so smooth and light as to hardly be there at all. I hadn’t realized how long it was, until I had it on. The lower edge fell below my waist, covering the belt and belt loops of my shorts. The translucent color was a light, medium tan, only a bit darker than my skin. I giggled, as I settled it in place, I don’t know why.

Mom grinned at me. “Put on your other shirt. I don’t think anyone will be able to see anything through it now.”

“Um, okay.” I glanced at the mirror and had to take a quick gulp of air. Even if my little boobies were less visible, I looked more like a girl than ever. But the delicate fabric had a kind of, dart, I think it’s called, under my…boobs. “Uh, Mom?” I hesitated with my polo in my hands.

“You can’t go to the restaurant wearing only the chemise as a top, honey,” she said as if that were at all a reasonable guess as to what I was thinking.

“Um, hah? Yeah….” I dithered a bit, then pulled the polo on, too. It turned out to be at least an inch or two shorter than the…chemise, which hung below the white shirt.

“Tuck it into your shorts,” Mom directed me. “Leave the polo out.”

I followed instructions.

“There,” Mom said, motioning toward the mirror.

I stared. The combination worked, more or less. The inner shirt had no sleeves, so it didn’t bunch up at the armholes, and the straps and neckline didn’t show under the polo. Nor did my nipples, but the shape of my chest was not really like that of a boy.

I put my hands over the slight mounds and blinked at my reflection.

Mom snorted. “Don’t do that while anyone is watching, and I think no one will notice you have small tits.” She thought a moment and added, “Turn sideways a moment, dear.”

“Um?” I did, and she gave me another piece of advice. “Try not to give anyone a silhouette view.”

I winced. Mom can be blunt. She once thanked an old man, Brother Culpepper, for his snoring in church that kept her from hearing the sermon and falling asleep herself.

“This isn’t going to work!” I complained.

“You sound like a nine-year-old Brownie when you whine,” she warned me. “We’re going to get you to a doctor on Monday, so try not to go supersonic till then.”

“A doctor?” I said. Okay, yes, a doctor. It wasn’t a stupid idea.

“I’ve actually heard of boys temporarily growing boobies when they start high school, so maybe he can do something about it.”

“Huh? Oh! Huh….” I said with all the stupidity I could find in me. Something … could be done?

Mom cocked her head, listening. “I think I hear John and Cyndy outside.”

My brother and his wife…. Oh, boy.