“Oh, so is that another robe I’ve lost? Have you still got the black pyjamas, too?” asked my sister, across the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “I assumed you’d slept in the pink ones from last night.”

“Good morning!” I said, much more brightly than I felt. “I got into bed with them on last night, and they were far too warm. And yeah, I slept in the black set, I’ve got them on underneath now.” I loosened the robe slightly, to display the strap of the black silk pyjamas underneath. I’d not returned them after trying them on last night. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Sam, if I minded all the clothes I’ve not seen returned over the past few weeks, we wouldn’t now be on speaking terms,” she smiled. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“How do you mean? Alcohol related feelings or feeling-feelings?” I asked

“Either. Both!”

I rubbed my head, “Well, I feel lousy. That was a lot of wine for me. I’d usually go onto the vodka and lemonades on a night out, after about four glasses of wine. I’d had three in the station, and how many bottles did we open?”

Claire thought for a moment, “No idea. Two or three, I guess? And feeling-feelings?”

“Better than my head! Have we got any coffee pods?” I smiled

“Yes, but only soya milk. Mum had the last of the semi-skimmed before she went to work.” Claire said, apologetically. “But, there is good news, I have Mum’s credit card. Girl, we’re going shopping!”

I smiled broadly, and then thought to ask, “Does she know you have it?”

“Yeah, I stole it,” she said sarcastically. “You are a dickhead, sometimes. Of course she knows. She agrees you need to stop pinching my clothes!” Claire laughed, and I joined in. “I need a shower, and get ready. I heard you in the shower, and you’re clearly already made up. I’ll be about half an hour.” Claire added, as she got up from the kitchen bar stools. “Nice job with your hair, by the way. You’re a quick learner.”

“Can I have my phone back now?” I asked, as she put her dirty mug in the dishwasher.

Claire thought, “Hmm, only if you promise not to message lover boy. Even if he messages you. I’m serious!” she stressed.

“Okay. Okay.” I promised, as she handed me my phone, that had been in her robe pocket.

“Thanks. And you can’t moan at me for stealing your clothes, when I know that’s Mum’s robe you’re wearing. You cheeky cow!” I joked.

“Erm, excuse me? Why exactly do you think, I’m wearing it?” As she fake punched me in the arm, “You’ve got all mine!” before heading upstairs.

It was just after 9.30am. I’d surprisingly woken up relatively early, considering how sorry for myself I was feeling. At least it was just a headache, and was lucky that I rarely felt nauseous after drinking a bit too much. I looked at my phone, and was a bit disappointed when I saw that James hadn’t messaged. I had a quiet word with myself about how silly thinking that was, and made myself a coffee. It would only take me about 5 mins to get dressed, so I found a sunny spot in the garden, and would sit there until Claire was almost ready.

“Beep! Beep!” went my phone after about 10 mins. It was James, and I actually felt my heart rate quicken.

“Morning. I heard you’re not well, and at home today. Hope all is okay, and that I can see you soon. Let me know if I can do anything. XXX”

I wasn’t brave enough to send what I thought was an acceptable response. I’d await Claire’s input, as to how to proceed. It felt like game playing to me, but I guessed she knew what she was doing.

I looked at the time the message was sent. It was 9.40am, the exact time the first double-period would have ended, and the first opportunity James would have had to use his phone after the start of the school day. I smiled to myself.

I then read and re-read the content. ‘Hope that I can see you soon,’ I supposed that’s the same as saying ‘hope you’re feeling better soon’ or ‘hope you’re back soon.’ I put the phone down, and went inside to see if Claire was nearly ready.

“You can get dressed now, if you want. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.” she shouted from her room, as she heard me coming up the stairs.

“What are you wearing?” I shouted back, keen to get dressed for my first shopping trip in girls clothes.

“A skinny vest top, and my Capri jeans,” as she continued the conversation through the house. “You borrow what you want, but wear flats or trainers. Oh, and I’m not bothering with a coat.”

I knew what I was going to wear, and was so glad Claire hadn’t already called it for herself. When I tried it on last week, I imagined myself wearing it for a girlie shopping trip. Comfortable, stylish, cute and easy to get on and off quickly. I smiled when I saw it hanging up in Claire’s wardrobe, and relieved it wasn’t in the wash.

“Oh. Good choice.” said Claire, when she saw me coming out of my room in the short, fitted shirt dress. “I’ve taught you well,” she smiled. “Actually, damn! Wish I’d gone for that now.”

I gave her a little curtsey.

“Sorry! Can I borrow your small Louis Vuitton bag? It will go well, won’t it?” I asked.

Claire thought for a moment. “Yes, it will. And yes, but look after it; it’s worth more than my car!”

“Claire”, I paused, “It’s a fake.”

Coming into my room, to end the shouting of our conversation, “Yes,” she responded slowly, as if I were pointing out something obvious. “But it’s still worth more than that bucket of bolts on the drive!” We both laughed.

“Oh,” I said, pretending it nearly slipped my mind, “would you help me with a message I’ve had this morning from James?” I was so keen to respond.

“Ooh. Show me! Show me!” Claire begged, pretending to be possessed by the need to see it, rushing from the doorway to where I was stood.

“Ha! You nutter. I worry that I’m taking advice from you!” I laughed. Claire just blew a kiss towards me.

“Don’t hate me, cos you ain’t me!” she teased. “I wonder if you’re a talking point at school today? Your unveiling at the rehearsal, or perhaps spending all night together with James in the pub and then holding hands with him for your walk home? He’s not mentioned that you are. But, it is what it is.”

“We didn’t hold hands! And who would have seen us?” I challenged

Claire sat down on the edge of my bed, “Details!” argued Claire. “And who? All those people at the Kings saw you, some of whom would have also seen you together earlier at the Station. Even if none of those folks know you, some will definitely know James. It really doesn’t matter though; I was just curious.”

“Hmm,” was all I could contribute.

“So, he’s looking forward to seeing you again? Interesting.” Claire was clearly intrigued.

Having read that over and over, I was confident advising ,“I think that’s just what you say, when wishing someone gets better soon.”

“Do you even kid yourself with these things you say? Why so reluctant to see what’s really there? I thought we got passed this last night.” Claire snapped back.

“You what?” joining Claire in sitting on the bed.

Claire continued “Come on, grow up! He’s basically sent you a message that says ‘stuff, stuff, stuff, I want to see you again.’ It’s actually a bit lazy. Is he not really a confident guy?”

“He’s not said that. And how do you mean, lazy?” It’s not even 10am, and I was nearly re-confused all over again. I massaged my toes into the thick carpet.

“He’s testing the waters. Come on, catch-up!” Claire sounded frustrated. “He’s building himself up to asking you out on a date. Granted, this is a big thing for him, just like it is for you. He doesn’t want to make himself look silly. He’s looking for you to say something like ‘I’d like to see you again, too’ before he’d start being more direct.”

“You’re still guessing that he fancies me, though. You’re not 100% sure of that, are you?” I pushed back.

“No, Sam. I tried to be clear last night, but I really don’t think I am wrong. I’m not talking fifty-fifty here, I’m 99 per-cent certain.” Claire emphasised. “The one percent is attributable to just one variable I don’t quite understand yet.”

“You? You don’t know something? Jesus wept!” I mocked

“Ha, fucking ha.” Claire replied sarcastically. “The only bit I’ve not yet reconciled is that you’ve known this guy for what, six years, and these feelings pour out after seeing you just once as a girl. There’s something I am missing. He’s taking a big risk, after meeting girl-you for, what, three or four hours. Anyway, grab your bag, we’re off. We’ll deal with that later.”

I made sure my borrowed bag had my wallet, phone and lip gloss in it. With my keys still being locked in the gym changing rooms at school, I had everything I think I needed.

My sister’s driving was heart-stopping, but after three near-misses in one thirty minute drive we made it to the shopping centre. Once parked, she was in her element, and on an absolute mission.

“Right. Shoes. Two birds with one stone with that one. I want to get you at least one pair of out-out shoes, a pair of casual shoes - maybe trainers, and a pair of boots. No exact briefs on these, we have an awful lot of wardrobe building to catch-up on - you should already have all the fundamentals by your age. I do, however, also want to get something for James.” Claire’s mission was in full flight.

“For James?” I queried.

“Yes, we’re sending him a picture of you. Oh, here we are.” Claire instructed, as we arrived at the first shoe shop, apparently not in the mood to elaborate further.

Claire had me try on about 10 pairs of shoes, and we bought one pair of almost knee-high brown boots with a three inch slim heel. I thought they looked great, and thought they’d look sexy - perhaps even a little slutty - with figure-hugging jeans.

“Okay,” said Claire, as we were leaving the store with our purchase, “sit down there, give me your phone and smile for the camera”. After five photos, in all different directed poses, we left.

“Attach this to James’s last text, with this message,” as Claire pointed me towards one of the photos, one of me sat on a stool with plenty of thigh on show.

“Is this soon enough to see me? Started to feel better. Gone shopping with my sister. Enjoy school! ;) XX”

I followed my sister’s instructions. “Hope you appreciate how much I trust you, despite me thinking you’re completely crazy.” I scolded my sister.

“Yes, yes. But I bet he’s already read your message,” she shot back.

He had. Time-stamped as one minute after I sent it.

“What’s all this about?” I demanded.

“I can’t be sure, but I’m guessing he’ll ask for another photo. Let’s wait.” My sister clearly found my questions a bit frustrating.

“Beep! Beep!”

“Glad you’re feeling better, and looking gorgeous. Good to see someone’s having more fun than me. Any further reminders of life outside school would be lifesavers. XXX”

Claire looked smug when I showed her the message. “So?”

“So, what?” I urged

“You agree his message clearly means he wants to see more pictures of you?” Claire smugly asked.

“I guess so, yes. Are we going to send any?” I asked

“Well, if you agree to. Yes.” Claire was almost hesitant.

“Why would or wouldn’t we share more?” I asked. Claire’s hesitancy had me concerned.

“Erm.” Claire’s lack of confidence was concerning. “Well, erm, it needs to be your call, because, erm, these photos are likely going straight into his wank bank. I’m not going to pimp my little brother or sister out. We need to have a chat about pronouns, by the way.”

I raised my hands to cover my mouth, stifling a gasp, that turned into a laugh. I had an image flash into my mind. James, naked on his bed, holding his hard dick in one hand and him mobile phone in another.

“Let’s send him another.” I decided and proclaimed confidently. “In an out-out dress. There’s one in the boutique at the other end of the mall that I want to try on.”

A going-out dress or outfit was on my sisters shopping list for me. She told me that everyone was dressing up for this weekend’s trip to Manchester, and if I decided to come, we needed to get something for that.

“You could have worn your black dress, if you didn’t need to keep that available for the play,” suggested my sister, as we walked side-by-side through the shopping mall to the boutique dress shop.

“My dress?” I asked, “Your dress, you mean?”

Claire shook her head out of the corner of my eye, “Nah, you keep it.” she offered, “doubt I could look as good as you in it, and you know, that’s not great for a girls ego,” she offered with a chuckle.

“Oh, thanks Sis,” I gushed, “and don’t be silly you’d look stunning in it. And you can borrow it whenever you like.”

“Thanks, but I was taking that as a given,” teased my sister.

“My dress,” I thought to myself. “My dress. I own a dress. I wear girl’s clothes that belong to me, and I’m out shopping for more.” This whole situation has developed so quickly, I almost have to pinch myself. The thought of wearing girl’s clothes, or even those that do, is a million miles from my normal frame of reference. However, I’m guessing I now need a new definition of normal.

We arrived at the store. Small, but very tastefully fitted out, with a small selection of exclusive dresses and a few other items.

“Can I try this in an 8, please?” I said to the shop assistant, gesturing towards the dress I had my eye on, and had gone towards directly to upon entering. “Also, I don’t want to a pain, but do you have these in a size 7?” Pointing towards a pair of high heeled shoes on an adjacent wall rack. “I’m not interested in buying them, but I need to see what my bum looks like in the dress, and as you can see, I’m not well equipped today.”

I heard my sister, who was in the other side of the small store, half splutter in shock.

“Yes, of course. I’ll get those for you”, replied the shop assistant, briefly looking down towards my feet

She was only gone one moment. When she returned I thanked her for passing me the boxed shoes and the short, glittered, asymmetric-sleeved dress, and took the items into the changing area,

“Claire!” I called. “Can you come in here?”

My sister was needed to zip up the back of my dress. She was caught off guard when first entering, as I’d tied my hair back with a band I’d been wearing around my wrist.

“You look good with your hair back,” she said.

Ignoring her comment, I offered my sister my back, moving my pony tail away from the fastener. When I had first seen this dress, I had for some reason thought it would look good with a pony.

“What do you think?” I asked, to both my sister, and the sales assistant who had joined to no doubt push the sale, as I posed from one direction to another in the mirror.

“Really nice, you look hot,” said my sister.

“Amazing. You fill it so well, especially your bum,” said the shop assistant. “And it goes so well with those shoes.”

Claire, clearly spotting the assistants attempted to upsell, “I don’t like the shoes.”

“Miss,” the assistant said to me, “We don’t like it advertised, so you may not be aware, but we offer a substantial discount to a select few customers who we think could present our brand well on social media. Do you have a strong follower base, that you influence?”

Claire had to cough to mask a surprised laugh if amusement creeping out.

“I don’t use social media,” I replied, whilst continuing to twist and pivot in front of the mirrors. The shop assistant must have been so shocked by my lack of social media use, she had to be told twice that I’d take the dress. With the sale made, she left us, and I passed Claire my phone to take some photos, who went back into the store to pay once we had finished.

“Any suggestions of what to put in the message?” I asked my sister, after selecting a photo to send James.

“Sam, you’re quickly flying far beyond my skills in flirting. What do want to say?” My sister replied.

“I’m going to send him this photo. The message is going to be ‘Hold in there, it’s nearly the weekend.’ What do you think?” I told, more than asked, my sister.

Claire smiled, “Sam, I think I’ve created a monster. I’d read that as you suggesting to him you’ll be wearing that at the weekend; he better hurry up, if he wants to be there when you do. That’s, well, genius.” she conceded.

I nervously sent the message. I know my sister is trying to help, I’ve heard all her logic, and I think this is what I want. There is, however, this nagging worry that it’s less than a month since I first wore women’s clothes, and one day since I appeared in public for the first time. To nearly everyone, that appearance was solely for a school play. I could be making a massive mistake. My life could be about to get much more difficult.

“Beep! Beep!” went my phone, before I’d even put it back in my handbag. It was James. That image of him naked zoomed into my head, causing my pulse to quicken. “Where have these feelings come from?” I asked myself.

“Wow! You look amazing. You’ve moved onto dress shopping, meanwhile I’ve moved onto double Maths. Weekend seems a long way away, right now. Do you have any plans? XXX”

My sister, peering over my shoulder, was reading the message along with me. “You want to handle this one? What are you thinking?”

I paused to think. “I’m not thinking of responding immediately. That I am sure about.”

Claire smiled. “Good girl. I’ve taught you well.”

We went back to our mission.

“Right,” said Claire. “There’s now two dresses you need out-out shoes for. Still need some more casual shoes. Then there’s some underwear, a couple of dresses and skirts, jeans, tops, a coat or two, and your own makeup. Let’s get cracking!”

By the time we stopped for some lunch, I was exhausted. If we hadn’t stopped, I would likely have collapsed. I’m pretty fit, and can run for miles, but I’m wiped out. Before last week’s dress shopping and today, I couldn’t remember that last time I had been shopping. Before internet shopping became my go to for everything, I was very much into the in-buy-out approach. Browsing, trying, going back to try again was really not my thing. Now, however, that’s different. I can’t remember having so much fun.

“Now we’ve refuelled, how’s about we get refreshed?” Asked my sister. “Champagne bar in Selfridges?”

“Hell, yeah!” Enthusiastically nodding my approval.

We plonked ourselves into opposite ends of the dark-navy velvet-lined circular booth, allowing the multitude of bags we were carrying to fall onto the spare space between us, carefully placing our glasses of champagne on the table. “How’s it going so far?” asked my sister.

“Great!” I exclaimed. “I’m really enjoying myself. But, how much did Mum say we could spend? We’ve got so much!”

I thought about what items we’d ticked off, and what bought got that wasn’t even on the list. In addition to the brown boots and the dress, there were black ankle boots, a pairs of sandals, two pairs of high heeled shoes, a pair of ballerina style slip-ons and a pair of trainers. With so many shoe boxes, we’d had to deposit much of it back at the car once already.

There were four bras, including a strapless one, lots of pairs of knickers, several tops, a coat and two skirts. There were also some things I know we’ve bought that I’ve forgotten, and my Sister had said we’re just over half way through. She said that we needed to look at some ‘fancy’ underwear, jeans and then some leggings, activewear, and gymwear – even though I suggested to my sister I might not be going to the gym as a girl. I didn’t want Mum to be mad with how I had we’d spent.

“She didn’t. She said to get what you need, and then whatever you want,” my sister said as she looked at her phone, champagne glass in hand. “This idea of catching-up with your wardrobe is how she described it. We’ll be getting the essentials now; the volume of your wardrobe can come from cheap, online fast fashion. Oh, shall we respond to that message now? You’ve let him sweat long enough, yeah?”

I nodded my agreement, as I took my phone from my handbag. “How about simply, ‘My sister has invited me on a night out with her mates. Haven’t decided yet though. Waiting to see what else comes up, as it’s a long way to travel.’ That’ll do, won’t it?” I suggested to my sister.

She nodded, “So, my ever-so kind invitation is now just Princess Sam’s backup plan? Oh to be popular!” she joked.

I sent the messages with the now obligatory kisses as a sign-off, put my phone down, and took a sip of champagne. I smiled my approval to my sister.

“Beep! Beep!” went my phone.

“Well, he’s keen.” My sister stated

“I have been wanting to visit the new bar where Simpson’s used to be in the city. Would you like to go on Saturday? XXX” his reply said.

“Right,” I said, “Don’t be angry, but I am going to respond now. Just going to have a little tease of him. Like you said, need him to be a little more direct. A bit braver, right?”

I got the thumbs up from my sister.

“Can I let you know if I can make it? If I can’t come, let me know how you and the rest of the crew enjoyed it. XX” I sent to James.

“That’s mean!” my sister suggested. “You know he didn’t mean all of your little gang!”

“Beep! Beep!”

“I meant just the two of us. I meant like a date. Sorry if I have offended you though. I know what you said last night, it’s just I felt like we shared a couple of moments. XXX”

My sister burst into a loud round of applause. “Well done, James! At least it would appear I’m only dealing with one emotional retard here!”

I smiled, and couldn’t stop smiling. I went to speak, and only a giggle came out.

“I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but what do have to say now, young padawan?” Claire winked

“Yes, it would appear you were right.” I conceded.

“Are you going to accept then? The game is over, this is serious now.” Claire suggested.

I started to type my message, before showing it to my sister.

“That sounds nice. I would love to. Speak later or tomorrow for details. XX”

Claire nodded. “That’ll do nicely. Well done. I’m so happy for you, even if this does mean I’ve been stood up!”

“Oh my god! I’m going on a date with boy! A friend that I’ve played rugby with. Oh my god!” I said, covering my mouth with both hands.

We got back to our champagne and shopping chat. With just one small interruption.

“Beep! Beep!”

It was a message from James, “:) XXX”

“So, the list?” Which had now turned into an actual written list that I’d been tracking on my phone. With all of the unplanned purchases, it had become too difficult to work out if we’d got what we initially had identified as needed. “Leggings, active and gym wear?” I queried with my sister.

“Yeah, what about them?”

“Well, leggings are worn to the gym, and gyms are active places. What exactly is the crossover here? I outlined my confusion.

“Well, there are leggings that can be worn for all sorts of occasions, to make all sorts of outfits. Erm, how to explain this... you’d not wear gymwear anywhere other than the gym, whilst activewear is casual high street or lounging wear. That’s active wear over there!” Proclaimed Claire, pointing to a young woman on the other side of the bar. “With your arse, I think you’ll love all kinds of leggings. And I am dying to get you some proper fitting jeans to show that peach off! I’m so jealous that you got Mum’s beautiful backside, and I got Dad’s!” Claire answered, as we both burst out laughing.

“Right, I think I’m okay with the leggings, gym or active wear .” I replied, not sounding one hundred percent convinced. “And this other one,” I read from my list, “fancy underwear, what’s that include?

“Okay, another case of the devil’s in the detail, perhaps. The bras and pants you have are nice, and pretty. You’d wear this kind of underwear every day. At the other extreme would be bridal lingerie on your wedding night or perhaps what you’d wear for your man on valentines night or perhaps his birthday. You know, stockings, suspenders, basques. I am sure you know,” she said with a wink. “What I’m calling “fancy” is lingerie that you won’t wear every day, just when you want to feel sexy and sensual. Like first dates, first times, when you’re looking for a confidence boost, you know?”

“Okay. I get that. So, no stockings and suspenders this afternoon.” I summarised. I suddenly thought about my potential wedding night. I’d thought about this once or twice before, thinking I’d be the groom. I wondered if one day I’d be wearing a wedding dress, when I got married. This was all swimming around my head, and I felt kind of drunk with too many thoughts.

“Well, not unless you want to. Do you?” Claire asked.

“Erm...” was all I could say. We stayed for just two glasses of champagne. The cost was a drop in the ocean compared to what we’d put on Mum’s credit card, but I wanted to pay for our drinks. We chatted, whilst we finished our champagne. We managed to cover different types of tops, coats, shoes, heels boots, cuts of panties, haircuts, dresses and makeup styles, albeit at a superficial level in the time we had available. As well as some brands, on-line retailers and some physical retailers to avoid. Claire got a bit upset at one point, wishing that she’d been able to start the knowledge transfer earlier, if she’d spotted that her little brother needed her support. I wasn’t able to say much, despite my sister being convinced there must have been signs earlier than this.

“You said something to me last night, as you we’re heading up to bed. Do you remember it?” I asked.

“Sam, I said lots of things. I know I’ve got a big mouth. Help me out.”

“Sure.” I replied. “You said that you were proud of me...”

Claire leant across the large round table, took one of my hands and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, “Incredibly proud.” interrupting me with a smile.

“You also said that Dad would’ve been proud of me, too. Were you just saying that?” I continued.

“No,” Claire stated with a shake of her head, still smiling. “He’d have been proud of your bravery. What he admired most in people was honesty, integrity and, I suppose, authenticity. He was all about making tough choices, and putting in the hard work, to do the right things. He was a more gentle, caring open-minded man than you would have ever had the chance to learn. I kind of feel like I owe it to both him and to you, to try and live his values,” as her eyes went a bit shiny, and I felt my bottom lip slightly quiver.

“He’d be proud of both of us then,” I smiled.

“Yes. To dad”, said Claire, as we both raised our champagne flutes and downed what remained in our glasses.

Claire started to gather some of the shopping bags, “Are you fit then? Ready for round two?”

“Let’s go!” I said, as I rounded up the rest of the clothes, before we headed back out to the shops.

As we walked out of the posh bar, into the equally posh high-end department store, my sister turned to me, “Do me favour, and don’t even look at any of the clothes in this store. There are some incredibly beautiful things, but Mum would string me up if we came back with a designer label wardrobe!”

I laughed. “Glad you said, because I love that top over there!”

“Well, just get on social media and up your influencer game, they’ll pay you to wear it then!” teased my sister, referencing what the assistant in the dress boutique had discussed at the start of the day.

“Beep! Beep!” went my phone

“Oh, it’s your boyfriend again, he’s managed to wait at least 30 minutes from his last message,” joked my sister.

As I reached into my handbag. “He’s not my boyfriend. Not yet, anyway.” I winked to my sister. “It’s not him anyway. It’s Sarah, Ms Greenwood, the teacher from school directing the play.”

“Oh? You get WhatsApped by teachers?” My sister asked.

“Not usually, no. We have a drama club group, so she’s got all our details.”

“Oh.” said Claire, “What does she say? Not rumbled your bunking off, has she?” added Claire, as a joke.

“Ha, no, thank god. She tried to find me in school today, to say well done last night, and to apologise for the changing rooms getting locked, and her not being there to help. She has my bag with my stuff in it, including your makeup and robe. Says I can collect it when I’m back at school.” paraphrasing Sarah’s message. I left out the part about her being there for me, whenever I needed.

“That’s kind of her.” as Claire continued to lead us out into the bright aisles of the main shopping mall.

After another couple or hours, I was spent. “How much longer, do you think we’ll be? I’m really flagging here!” I asked

“Okay. Why don’t we grab a coffee, check what the state of play is? We can then either call it a day if we’re looking good, or perhaps target some priorities?”

“Yeah, nice one. Good idea.” I agreed

Claire pointed to a Caffè Nero further down the aisle we were on, and we headed towards it.

“Let’s have a look at that list of yours,” said Claire, as I joined her at the table with two lattes.

I sat and took out my phone, and passed it to Claire. She went to the list, that had already seen all of this morning’s purchases removed.

“So, we have a couple of pairs of jeans - the deeper blue ones looked amazing on. Leggings, check. Tops, yeah, but you can never have too many. Stuff for the gym, loungewear, yep, some fancy knickers and bras that you’ll no doubt wear on Saturday,” Claire paused to give me a cheeky wink over the top of the phone, “Seriously though, that one bra had adjustable straps, for your one-sleeved dress. We’ve got most of the toiletries you’ll need, skincare products, you also got that perfume you really liked, so you don’t need to steal mine now. Funny how we have such different tastes, mine obviously far better.”

“Ha. So, are we done then?” I asked

Claire thought for a moment, “I think we should go back and get those wedges. There’s still lots of the summer left.”

“Yeah, they were cute, weren’t they? Not entirely sure when you’re going to think I’ll be wearing all these clothes, to be honest, though. I have exams later this summer, that need studying for. And this isn’t a full time thing, remember?”

“I know, you said. But, well, it can’t hurt anyone - only Mums credit card is being abused here!” Claire smiled. “And you can always mix and match some of your boy and girl clothes. You can always wear some makeup as a boy, too. I mean, now you’ve brought those eyes, cheekbones and luscious lips to life, it would be a crime to leave them without a bit of mascara, contour and gloss.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” I wasn’t convinced that the ‘in between’ thing was for me. I’d seen plenty of videos from effeminate YouTube makeup gurus over the past few weeks, and don’t think I’d be comfortable with that lifestyle. But then, what lifestyle have I chosen? Have I decided to make myself some sort of outcast from many social norms, potentially living as what many ‘normal’, people might see as some kind of freak? I decided that I did not care, as my sister had reinforced, happiness is much more important. Perhaps I just need to stop worrying, like my sister told me.

We left the shopping mall, and headed home. I had never seen so many shopping bags in a car, not even after a big grocery shop. I dreaded to think how much we had spent. By the time we got back, I was so tired I had become oblivious to all the near misses that Claire had no doubt had with other vehicles, pedestrians, and any other object that dared be on the road as the same time as her.