I was essentially the real deal. Witha sigh, I put on the lipstick, tasting the flavor, added just a bit ofperfume like mom told me, and gathered my nerve.Opening the door to my room, I walked out, the heels making no sound onthe carpet, only a throbbing sense of concern beating hard and quickagainst my temples, the sound a cacophony of instant doubt. My dad washome, I had heard him come in. I could only hope he wouldn't laugh at me.The skirt portion of the dress swayed when I walked, courtesy of my widerhips, and with my arms hanging down, I made my entrance. My dad looked upand saw me, his eyes going wide for a moment. Then...."This... is what you're going to look like?" Not every day," mom said, "she just got herself all pretty for you!" You certainly look different! And this is going to last how long?" Two years," mom said quickly, "plus the pregnancy, but we told you that.After that, who knows?" Well, I don't understand why you want to do this, that's for sure!!" The money dad,". He had black lump under his right eye, not a big one, but still noticeable. “Hey Tyler,” I called out, grabbing him by the arm. “I’m looking for a girl named Becky Finklestein. Do you know which lunch shift she has?”Tyler laughed a kind of sad laugh. “She’s got this lunch shift, but she don’t eat lunch with us, she goes straight to the weight room.”That figured. I pointed to Tyler’s eye. “How did that happen?” I asked. “Your brother finally get sick of your shit?”Tyler looked to the floor. “My brother? No. You’re getting ready to find out how it happened,” he said sheepishly, then ran to join a group of other guys in baseball letter jackets. They all had blackened right eyes.The weight room was past the gym, and the hallway leading to the gym was where the PJHS trophies were kept. I stopped by to check out my old squat record. I was now in fifth place, at the bottom of the plaque. All four plates above mine were engraved with the name “Rebecca E. Finklestein.” I looked at the numbers.
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