V - Collateral Damage

Early dismissal came as planned.

Natalie, Maddie, and Riley collected Samuel from the classroom and folded him back into their group with practiced ease. They left St. Catherine's among the other girls, surrounded by backpacks, voices, and the ordinary relief of a short school day.

Outside, Maddie's mother was waiting in the car.

Samuel prepared himself to sit quietly and say as little as possible.

"Hi, girls," Maddie's mother called from the front seat. "How was school?"

"Good," the three answered almost together.

"Hi," Samuel murmured in the softest voice he could manage.

Maddie's mother glanced at him in the rearview mirror and smiled politely.

She accepted him as one more girl in the car.

The relief was so intense it almost made him dizzy.

Then she asked the question that destroyed him.

"Do you girls have dresses for the Graduation Gala yet?"

The back seat went silent for half a second.

Riley said she already had hers. Natalie said she had options but was still deciding. Samuel, trapped inside Samantha, said no.

"We could stop at the mall for a bit," Maddie's mother said. "I have a few errands there anyway. You can look at dresses while I take care of them. Maddie needs to buy her dress too."

The girls looked at Samuel.

Samuel looked at them in terror.

"Yes," Maddie said before he could invent an excuse.

"Perfect," Natalie added.

"Love that," Riley said, with a calm that felt criminal.

Samuel forced a smile.

"That sounds... great."

As soon as Maddie's mother focused on driving, Riley leaned close.

"You look thrilled, Samantha."

"I hate you," Samuel whispered without moving his lips.

"You couldn't say no," Natalie reminded him. "That would have been suspicious."

"I know. That's why I hate you more."

The mall was more frightening than the school.

At St. Catherine's there had been rules, uniforms, and a plan. At the shopping center, the world was open. Families, couples, employees, strangers, mirrors, bright store lights. No one had a reason to suspect him, and yet he felt exposed in a less controllable way.

They entered a boutique that felt elegant and feminine without being unreal. Dresses hung in rows by color and length: satin, chiffon, tulle, sequins, soft florals, darker formal gowns, pale romantic ones. Samuel had never experienced dress shopping from the inside. For him, formalwear meant choosing a suit or tuxedo, checking the sleeves, and leaving. Here, every dress seemed to generate a legal debate.

Would it photograph well? Was it too mature? Too simple? Too similar to someone else's? Could one dance in it? Would the color wash someone out? Was it memorable without being dramatic? Did anyone in the class already claim it?

"When someone buys a dress," Natalie explained, holding a soft green gown against herself, "she sends a picture to the senior group chat so no one else gets the same one."

Samuel stared. "Seriously?"

"Obviously."

"What happens if two people wanted it?"

"Whoever bought it first wins," Riley said.

"This is a parallel legal system."

"A very efficient one," Maddie replied.

He could not understand why Riley, who already had a dress, continued pulling gowns from racks.

"You already bought yours," he said as she studied a red dress.

"Yes."

"So why try that one?"

Riley looked at him as if he had asked why people listen to music if they have heard songs before.

"Because it's pretty."

"And?"

"And I want to see how it looks."

"Even if you won't buy it?"

Maddie patted his shoulder. "Not everything is about efficiency."

Then came the inevitable suggestion.

Natalie held up a pink gown with a smile Samuel had learned to fear.

"You should try one."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"For consistency," Riley said solemnly. "If Maddie's mom comes back and we are all trying dresses except you, it could look weird."

"That makes no sense."

"Nothing about this day has made sense since 7 a.m.," Maddie said. "Keep up."

Samuel tried to resist, but the logic of camouflage, exaggerated as it was, had already trapped him once. If he was Samantha in a dress shop, acting too reluctant could draw attention. At least that was what they told him. And after entering St. Catherine's in a skirt, he no longer had the energy to fight every battle.

"One," he said.

"We'll see," Natalie answered.

It was not hard to guess his dress size. He was just about. their size, but a little bit taller. He ended up with several gowns draped over his arm and a level of dread he had not known a dress could produce.

Inside the dressing room, he discovered another secret: formal dresses were not simple objects. They had hidden zippers, delicate fabrics, inner layers, structured bodices, and straps that only made sense to the person helping from outside. More than once he had to open the curtain slightly and ask for assistance.

"How is this supposed to close?" he called.

"Turn around," Maddie said, stepping in just enough to zip him.

The first gown was navy, long, and simple. It made him stand straighter and move more carefully. The second was pale pink with layers of tulle that made him feel like someone had mistaken him for a reluctant princess. The third was burgundy sequins, heavier and more dramatic, reflecting boutique lights with every step.

Then Riley found the black ball gown.

"Absolutely not," Samuel said.

"Absolutely yes," Riley said.

It fit too closely, forced his stride to be extra careful, so that he wouldn't trip, and made the girls laugh so hard that Samuel could not decide whether to be offended or join them.

"This is a trap," he said, trying to walk.

"This is formal fashion," Natalie corrected.

"I don't understand how anyone dances in this."

"Sometimes you don't dance," Maddie said. "Sometimes you look amazing and survive."

"I deeply respect your strength."

Then Natalie brought out the fuchsia gown.

It was bright, dramatic, and impossible to ignore. The fabric had a luminous intensity somewhere between pink and magenta, bold enough to command a room but youthful enough to feel like prom rather than pageant. The neckline had been structured so it did not depend on a pronounced bust; instead, the bodice shaped the upper half through careful seams and support, allowing Samantha's modest padding to read as believable without making the dress look false. The dress had a mermaid skirt that hugged his legs and flared into cascading layers from the knees down, flowing like gentle waves. The vibrant fuchsia fabric shimmered with every step, making her appear both elegant and ethereal, as if she had stepped out of a dream.

Samuel saw it on the hanger and knew the girls would not let him leave without trying it.
Putting it on took time. The inner structure had to settle correctly before the zipper could rise. Natalie adjusted the bodice. Riley lifted part of the skirt so the layers did not twist. Maddie waited outside, practically vibrating with anticipation.
When Samuel stepped out, the laughter stopped.

The fuchsia gown changed the room.

It should have looked absurd. It should have overwhelmed him. Instead, it somehow transformed the awkwardness of Samantha into something striking. Not perfect. Never perfect. The shoulders were still a little straight, the height still Samuel's, the vulnerability still visible in the eyes. But the color brightened his face. The structure gave him a believable line. The skirt created drama around a body that otherwise remained slim and straight.

Samantha looked beautiful.

And because Samuel could still see himself underneath, the effect was almost harder to process.

"That one," Maddie said softly.

"No," Samuel said immediately, though he was still looking in the mirror.

"Not to buy," Natalie said. "Just... that is the one. If Samantha ever went to a formal, that would be the dress."

"Samantha is not going to a formal."

Riley, behind him, lifted her phone and took a photo.

Samuel turned. "Did you just-"

"For historical purposes."

"Delete it."

"Never."

They eventually bought Maddie's dress, a white and pink floral ball gown that suited her expressive warmth perfectly. Maddie's mother returned, paid, and drove them home as if nothing supernatural had occurred.

By the time they reached Maddie's house, Samuel felt as if he had lived an entire life in one day.

The girls closed the bedroom door and finally laughed without restraint.

"When my mom asked about dresses," Maddie said, collapsing onto the bed, "I thought you were going to jump out of the moving car."

"I considered it."

"And the black satin one," Riley added. "Worth the entire day."

"I am leaving this group."

"You can't," Natalie said. "You're one of us now."

Samuel sat carefully on the edge of the bed, still remembering the skirt.

"Tiffany is going to laugh at me for months."

"Years," Maddie corrected.

Samuel smiled.

He did not care.

"It was worth it," he said.

The girls grew quiet.

"Really?" Natalie asked.

Samuel nodded.

"More than worth it."

He told them about Tiffany. Not everything, but enough: her face when she saw him, the hug, the hour they had stolen, the kiss before she left.
Maddie pressed both hands over her heart. Riley demanded exact details. Natalie smiled like someone who had known all along the risk would become a memory Samuel treasured.

Later, after Maddie's mother left for dinner and the house was safe, Samuel slowly returned to himself. Shoes off first, with nearly religious relief. Then socks. Skirt. Vest. Blouse. Bike shorts. Bra. Makeup removed with wipes. Wig loosened carefully by Riley, pins placed one by one onto the vanity.

When he put on his own clothes again and looked into the mirror, he felt strangely disoriented.

Not because he doubted who he was.

But because the day had been too intense to close with a simple change of clothes.

He had entered a world where he did not belong. He had lived for hours inside an invented name. He had learned, in his body, small things he had never had to think about. He had seen Tiffany. He had kissed her. And by a ridiculous accident, he had spent an afternoon trying on gowns.

He was Samuel again.

But not exactly the same Samuel who had arrived that morning.

His phone vibrated.

Tiffany: I will never forget what you did today just to see me. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Samuel read the message several times before answering.

Everything had been worth it.