Skylar's Diary - Day 4

Dear Diary, so I didn't sleep well last night. I constantly imagined people staring at me because I would look so ridiculous in short girls' shorts and a pink t-shirt. Now, in the worst case, if it's necessary, I'll just say that it's a game, so they might understand.

Riley arrived home in the early afternoon, with the shorts and the pink t-shirt. She had taken these for a wash, she said. I put them on, we got in the car. We drove all the way to the other side of town, as she had promised. I hadn't actually been there before. We parked near a big shopping mall, and we walked to that place.

Then I suddenly became very nervous. I became very aware of how short my shorts were, and how uncovered my legs were. I felt very exposed. The pink t-shirt didn't help me to feel at ease either. Riley realized this, and reassured me. "Watch out," she said. "You may be very conscious of what you look like, but most people are dealing with other things, and will ignore you." That was true, actually.

Anyway, we're going into the shopping center, and I thought I'd put my hands in my trouser pockets. Then no one would see my painted nails.

"What's wrong with these pockets? I can't get my hands in it."

"Why do you want to put away your beautiful hands?"

"Because my nails are painted!"

"I was afraid of that. That's why I sewed up the pockets."

"Oh you, prankster!" 

"Forgive me, Skylar, but look at my hands and toes. I also walk around like a clown, thanks to you."

She had a point there, but man, that was so annoying. I realized that I always walk with my hands in my pockets, and suddenly it was no longer possible. What the heck should you do with your hands? I didn't know what to do.

"Just keep them quiet next to your body, and walk. Your hands will automatically swing slightly."

Well, that took some time to get used to, you know. And again I thought everyone would see my hands, but Riley was right. Most people don't even see you at all.

We just walked around and stopped by a shop window once in a while. Riley went into a shop every now and then to look at clothes (for her!), and sometimes she asked me what I thought of it, but actually I rarely had an opinion. "The time will come," she said. Well, I don't think so. 

And just when I thought the whole trip wasn't too bad, the next embarrassing moment came. Riley wanted to buy me shoes. "What's wrong with my sneakers?" I asked. 

"Nothing, but I want to expand your shoe collection. I can bring a bag of clothes to the sessions, but shoes are more difficult, you better buy them new."

"But that's a waste of money, Riley. I'm never going to put those shoes on." 

"That's up to you, Skylar, but don't worry, it's not the intention to buy very girly shoes. Let's just try it, please."

We went into a shoe store. Only girls' shoes. I was the only boy in there. But Riley kept her word. She selected very simple flat shoes. She had found black ones, but not in my size. She asked the saleswoman if they also had my size. "Yes, sure," she said, "I'll get them."

I already sat down, and when the saleswoman came with the shoes, I would try them on.

"You also have to take off your socks," said Riley, "you wear these flats without socks."

I became crimson. My toes! I whispered as loud as I could.

"Riley, I can't, my toes are painted."

"Don't worry, your fingernails too." And while she was saying it, she took off my socks. I thought, "Oh no, what's that saleswoman going to say now?" And do you know what she said?

"Wow, you have really beautiful feet, nice color by the way."

Didn't she realize that I'm a boy? Maybe I really need a haircut, although... In this case my too long hair has worked for me. But it didn't stop there.

"With such beautiful toes, you have to wear sandals. Wait a minute, I'll get a nice pair."

Before I could say anything, the saleswoman went to get them. Meanwhile, Riley helped me to try on the flats. That was not so bad. I tried to walk with them for a while, and they were quite comfortable. "Good, we'll buy these already," said Riley.

The saleswoman came back with a pair of sandals. White, with ribbons. Definitely girls' shoes.

"Come on, try them on," said the saleswoman. 

Dilemma. Think fast. If I refuse now, she's going to expect a reason, and I can't say I'm a boy. When I tell her that I don't like them, she will look for other ones. When I say I don't want sandals, Riley will probably intervene. OK, just fit, and pretend like there is nothing up. I tried on the sandals, and these too were comfortable. I walked back and forth for a while.

"Beautiful," said Riley and the saleswoman, almost simultaneously.

Just let it pass, I thought. Riley confirmed that we would take both the flats and the sandals.

Okay, so now I'm a boy and owner of a couple of flats, and a couple of sandals. At home they will die a quiet death in the closet.

"Are you hungry?" Riley asked.

"Yes, actually I am."

"Okay, here's the deal. If you keep the sandals on, you can choose where and what we eat. If you put on your sneakers again, I'll choose."

So that's how it works. I couldn't call it blackmail, because I had a real choice. But I really wanted pizza, and Riley would probably go for a healthy salad.

"Okay, I'll keep the sandals on, and we'll eat pizza."

"Perfect. That was my idea, too."

Darn it, fooled again.

The rest of the day was quite routine. We went to eat pizza, we walked around a bit, and Riley brought me home. "I had a nice afternoon," she said. 

"Things were not so bad," I said.

"Didn't you like it, then?" 

"Well, actually I did enjoy it. It was exciting, and that made it fun."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. See you tomorrow, Skylar."

"See you tomorrow, Riley."

To: Skylar's Diary - Day 5