Lost Girl — Girl Found 1. Olivia’s First Kiss

Having changed, Oliver gets cold feet

Oliver was a little stunned and turned back to the mirror to see Olivia looking at him. This time though, she wasn’t a little schoolgirl in a grey smock-dress and knee socks, but an adult female with all the appearance of a femme fatale.

The long, straight, raven-black hair of the wig he’d been given to wear, cascaded down over his shoulders and over the blouse with the black and white Paisley design that shimmered in the light.

His eyes slowly moved down his reflection to the bustier that nipped him in at the waist, giving him the appearance of feminine hips and pushed his boobs—which were no more than a couple of rolled up socks, one in each cup of the black, lace bra—out. From the waist, a short pleated skirt flaired out and further enhanced the look of hips, beneath which, extremely figure-hugging black faux-leather leggings led down to the black over-the-knee boots with killer heels.

“Gulp!”

His eyes darted back up to the pale face that shone from under the hair; the slightly upturned, deep red lips that seemed to hint at a smile, but not quite and those smoky eyes that bored into his own from the glass.

‘She’s back!’ he thought excitedly and right then, Cathy’s voice sounded in his ears.

“Stop staring at yourself in the mirror and go mingle or something, Sis” she instructed. “I need to get changed.”

Oliver looked a little startled. ‘Mingle? On my own?’ he wondered, feeling a little chill run down his spine. No-one other than Cathy and their mother—albeit briefly—had ever seen Olivia.

‘Oh shit!’ he thought, mentally biting his fingernails back to his elbows.

“Go on. You heard me … Shoo!”

Oliver was hastened from Cathy’s room by being pushed and shoved through the doorway. He stood, mouth agape, as the door to Cathy’s room closed. It sounded like a door at Gringotts: one that shuts with a deep, hollow boom.

‘Now what do I do?’

His question was moot, as in less than a heartbeat, Claudine reappeared.

“Oh … er … I’m sorry. I didn’t see you come in.” she said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Cathy’s friend, Olivia,” he replied, thinking quickly and managing to circumvent the automatic response which made him want to say, “Oliver”.

“Cool,” she said grinning broadly. “I’m Claudine.”

‘She doesn’t even recognise me,’ he thought. “Cathy told me to ‘go mingle’.”

“Mingle? Who with?” Claudine giggled. “It’s a bit early. There’s no-one here yet. Most of the people I know won’t arrive until after the pubs shut.”

“I’m beginning to wish I’d waited until then too.”

“You?” Claudine asked, clearly astonished. “Why?”

“I’m feeling a little self-conscious. This isn’t the way I’d normally dress,” Oliver stated honestly.

“Why?” she asked again. “I mean, it’s not like your outfit is too provocative or anything.”

“You think it’s alright?”

“Of course. I think you look totally stunning. You look like that girl off that telly programme.”

“I do? Which one?”

“You do. Don’t know what it’s called, but she hangs out with some girl called Bo or something.”

“Lost Girl,” Oliver supplied.

“Don’t know.”

The conversation was surreal. The young girl really didn’t seem to have a clue who he was, despite the similarity in names.

“Come with me,” Claudine said at last, linking arms with Oliver and mashing herself up as close as she could get, leading him down the hallway, pointing out various important landmarks on the way. “The toilet’s there on the right, the kitchen’s here and the lounge is down the hall there. Can I get you a drink?”

“Thanks,” Oliver replied, feeling a little less like he stood out like a sore thumb thanks to Claudine’s compliment. Nevertheless, he still didn’t feel particularly comfortable. Perhaps that drink would calm his nerves.

He tottered along on his skyscraper heels into the kitchen behind Claudine where several packs of beer and some bottles of wine, crisps and other nibbles had been laid out on the table and worktops.

“Cathy’s a bit tied up with her brother or something,” Claudine told him. “But you already know that, don’t you? Can you believe he didn’t even turn up in fancy dress? I bet her he wouldn’t and won a fiver. Mind you, there aren’t many men I’ve met who are prepared to dress up for a fancy dress party. Jeans and ‘T’s’ most of them. Totally ruins the spirit of the thing.”

“Uh, I suppose,” Oliver said with a slight smile, not that Claudine noticed.

“Beer okay, Liv?” Claudine asked opening and reaching into the fridge. “We’ve got some cold ones in here. You don’t mind if I call you Liv, do you?”

“Beer’s good,” he replied. “And, yes. Liv’s fine.”

Everything seemed to have gone from zero to two-hundred miles an hour without any warning.

Talk about being dumped in at the deep end.

This was only the second time he’d seen Cathy in God knew how many years and already she had got him dressed as a girl. If that wasn’t enough, he would soon have to mingle with people he didn’t know … well, when they turned up that was.

He was beginning to feel a little angry at Cathy for having put him in this position, but he’d had plenty of opportunity to say no.

But he didn’t, did he?

Taking a long swig from his beer, he looked across at Claudine. She was nice, a little ‘ditzy’ perhaps, but very nice. He wondered if she’d be quite as friendly if she knew that he wasn’t Liv, but Oliver. He wondered how she would take being lied to. He could and probably should after all, have told her that he was Oliver, but that was another thing he didn’t do.

No, he hadn’t told Claudine his real name, nor had he stopped Cathy in her tracks when she’d suggested he dress up as Kenzi for the party.

~oOo~

For the longest time, Oliver had wanted to be Olivia again. Here he was in a perfect position and in the perfect outfit, yet the first thing he wanted to do was to get out of there as fast as possible.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t feel comfortable; he felt perfectly comfortable in what he was wearing despite what he’d told Claudine. He knew he looked every inch the girl he was portraying and what was more, Claudine hadn’t even batted an eyelid at what lay beneath. No, it was more than that.

Mind you, Claudine wasn’t really someone to gauge anything by, as she seemed far too wrapped up in her own little world, paying little real attention to Olivia. It was no great surprise to discover that she had no idea who she was talking to. More to the point, she showed no apparent awareness of the fact that she wasn’t talking to another girl.

He seemed to be doing alright so far and after realising that, the fear and anxiety he’d been feeling, dissipated slightly. Olivia was standing on her own—so to speak and appeared to be completely convincing. Of course, it was going to take confirmation from others to completely convince Oliver of that.

“So how do you know Cathy?” Claudine asked and without pausing for breath, “I met her in college. She was kind enough to let me stay here in this flat with her. Course, I have to pay rent.” She giggled. “But she made me feel welcome, despite me being lesbian. Does that bother you?”

“Not at a—”

“We’re supposed to live in an age of enlightenment. Live and let live,” she said passing Liv a second beer. “You’d be surprised how many people still have hang-ups about gays and lesbians. Can’t see why. As long as they don’t bother anyone else. You’re not bothered, are you?”

“Er, n—”

“It’s not as if there aren’t any high profile lesbians and gays out there. I mean, look at Ricky Martin and Frazier’s brother, Niles. What’s his name? I mean in real life of course” She giggled again. “Then there’s Jessie J. Well, technically, she’s bi, but she still has sex with other girls and don’t even get me started on Angelina Jolie.”

Oliver blinked a few times as the barrage continued to hit her without so much as a pause. He took a sip from the bottle.

In the background, Claudine continued to rattle on, but Oliver had given up listening, tuning the constant drone out. He didn’t feel uncomfortable around her in the slightest, quite the opposite in fact. He felt a strong attraction to her and probably would have been more attracted if she’d stopped talking for a second or two.

“Hi Olivia!” Cathy said enthusiastically, stepping into the kitchen and stopping Claudine in her tracks. She was dressed in a real daring vampire costume with splits right up to the thighs of her dress and fishnet stockings—the ones with the lacy self supporting tops. Her hair was piled high on her head and her makeup made her look incredible; especially the cherry-red lipstick.

“You look phenomenal, Cath,” the young blonde said, her jaw dropping open. “I was just telling Liv about you letting me stay here. She’s not uncomfortable around me either,” Claudine said with a self-satisfied smile.

Cathy looked at Claudine and then at Oliver and rolled her eyes. “Liv?” she asked.

Oliver nodded.

Cathy smiled and turned to Claudine. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to steal her away from you, Claud.”

“Hey! Not fair. We were just getting to know each other.”

“I know. Don’t worry, she won’t be far away.”

There it was again, that feminine pronoun. It was as if Cathy didn’t want anyone to know that the young girl dressed as Lost Girl’s, Kenzi, wasn’t a girl after all.

Since changing, it was true that even in his head, that pronoun had been applied—once or twice, but he wasn’t sure it fitted. When he was younger, like most pre-teen kids, he was androgynous enough for it to fit without question, even though it was never anyone other than Cathy who saw it.

However, as he grew up, he became less and less sure that it fitted. He’d hoped one day it would, but his head had been filled with so many horror stories about how the world treated ‘men who parade around as women’, as his mother had put it, that he didn’t dare think about it too often.

“Come on, Liv.”

“Hey wait!” Claudine exclaimed. “You’re not getting away that easily.” She was standing before Oliver in a heartbeat, staring into his eyes. Without warning, she reached up and kissed him full on the lips. “That’s just to make sure you come back.”

To be continued ...