One Of Us Is Comfortable

“You don’t have to come with us, you know?”

Jack started, not having realised that Rowan was looking at him. “Nah, it’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be fine? It’s fine.”

“D’aww, what’s this?” Alice said, leaning over Jack’s shoulder. “Is my little brother embarrassed?”

That much was clear to anyone walking past them on the street. Jack’s cheeks were redder than the traffic lights, and despite the cool autumn air he had a thin trail of sweat down the side of his face. At being called out though he clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, shoving his sister off.

As the siblings started squabbling, the gaudy lights of the shop came into view, and now Rowan was as bright red as Jack. But Jack didn’t realise; he was too busy desperately trying to keep his eyes away from the displays in the windows. Trying and failing. He wasn’t sure which woman he was more uncomfortable with being there while he gawped at half-naked models; his life-long best friend or his sister.

Both Jack and Rowan paused on the threshold, but Alice marched straight in. It was only when she tried to point a piece out to Rowan that she realised the others hadn’t followed her. Rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in the air she stormed back out.

“Look, neither of you have to come if you don’t want to,” she said. “We can just go and grab coffees if you want. This is about you Rowan, but if you’re not ready, there’s no pressure.”

“No. I do want to. It’s just…”

That phrase, ‘it’s just’, had become so much a part of Rowan’s life, and Jack was sick of it. She spent so much of her time hiding and worrying about what other people thought, and while there was nothing Jack could do to counter those fears directly, there was a way to help her here.

Squeezing his hands into fists in his pockets, Jack sauntered into the lingerie shop, doing his best to act for all the world like he belonged there.

It lasted until he came to the first display. The brightly coloured, armless mannequin was wearing… something that sparkled in the spotlights, and was all lace and shiny gems. Jack realised he was staring at the mannequin’s chest, and quickly tried to find something else to look at. But everywhere he looked there was another mannequin, or a poster with a real-life model, and Jack couldn’t work out which was worse. The model was an actual person, and it was rude to stare… but was it weirder if he couldn’t take his eyes off some sculpted plastic?

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed, little brother,” Alice said as she jabbed him in the ribs.

“I’m not.” But there was no point denying that now. Jack was even redder, and his hands were out of his pockets and twisting nervously. It wouldn’t be so bad, it wouldn’t be at all bad, if he was with anyone else. Except maybe his mum. He wasn’t a teenager any more for pity’s sake; he had some degree of control over his urges. But Alice was family, and Rowan was as good as family, and all he could think about when he saw all these bras and panties was either of them wearing them.

It made him nauseous and, in the case of Rowan, very confused. It could only have been ten years or so ago that they’d been scavenging terrible porn mags from the side of the road or off of the older boys at school, and now… Now he was trying to spot the difference between those magazines and the world he’d just walked into. ‘Class’ was about the only thing that Jack could think of.

“You can wait outside you know?” Rowan whispered in his ear.

“It’s fine.” He’d need a clean shirt after this, but it was better than abandoning his friend. Though they’d known each other their whole lives, Jack knew that Rowan was still nervous around his family. Leaving her alone with his sister to go underwear shopping would be a new level of cruel, and Jack had promised to himself that he’d do everything he could to help Rowan. Besides, if he was here and being obviously ‘male’, that should draw some of the attention away from Rowan. He’d go through any awkwardness if it meant, just for once, that she was comfortable.

Jack looked around again, dropping his gaze quickly when a couple of middle-aged woman across the shop stared back. The whole place was crazy, and he’d never seen anything like it. He’d thought it would be just like any other shop; hangers and displays, with prices on tags and a row of check-outs. And changing rooms, given sizes were a weird concept to women’s fashion, apparently.

But this place… It felt more like a destination, the sort of place you’d go out to go to, and to be seen at, rather than just a place you’d pop into on the way past. There were chest of drawers and sofas, and the fact that it felt more like someone’s (very extravagant) bedroom did nothing to help his nervousness. He could imagine an old-fashioned finishing school mistress appearing suddenly and running everyone in the place through… stuff. His mind went blank about what actually happened at a finishing school. The fear that he’d get caught up in though was very real.

And there was the smell as well, a thick clawing flowering smell that coated everything. Since when did shops have smells? The scent got up his nose, and he felt it clinging to his clothing. He was also pretty sure that spotlights weren’t usually such a feature of shops, at least not when they weren’t focusing on the items for sale. Here they seemed to be picking out half the walkways as well, as though the whole place was a cat-walk, with mirrors instead of cameras. Everywhere he turned someone was watching him, and it was him in another damned mirror. How long did they spend decorating this place? Wouldn’t the time have been better spent working on the products? And if they spent so long planning this place, why did they never find any colours other than pink?

Trying to think about something else he glanced across at Rowan. She was also staring around the place, and staring at the models as well, but it wasn’t with fear or lust. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open, and there was the faintest hint of a tear in her eye.

She finally feels like she belongs, Jack thought. It was enough to put the thoughts of his own whining out of his head. She’d had years of not fitting in; he could cope with ten minutes or so.

“So,” he said, unconsciously lowering his voice an octave or so, “what happens now? What- what the hell is that for?” Not believing his eyes he picked up the offending garment and held it up for clarification.

“That is an underwired, padded, sculpting lift bra. It’s for holding your tits. Please tell me you’ve at least worked that bit out, little brother?” Alice teased.

“Hey, I’ve had girlfriends!” The women across the shop were giving them all looks now, and Jack spotted the tell-tale whispering as they looked at Rowan. “But why are there so many options? Don’t you just need, like… cups, and straps?”

“Well, yes. But there’s a lot more to it than that. Now hush, the women are talking.” Clapping her hands together Alice turned to Rowan. “So, how far have you got? Do you know your size yet?”

As she always did whenever anyone started talking about this stuff, Rowan curled her shoulders in and clasped her hands in front of her, covering her chest as much as she could. “I think so. I mean, I watched a video online about how to measure yourself, and then grabbed some bras from the local supermarket–”

“Oh no, really, hun? You don’t want to do that, they’re terrible, trust me. Did no one warn you off them?”

“My mum still doesn’t like to talk about it too much…”

“Sod her then. Okay, first things first we’ll get you measured. Let’s go and find a member of staff.”

Jack had seen the look of sheer terror on Rowan’s face, but Alice wasn’t stopping long enough for her to object. The older woman dragged her away, taking her elbow in her grip and hustling her across, discussing options and styles as they went. For a moment Jack just watched them, proud of his sister for being so supportive and natural about the whole thing. Then he realised he was still holding the bra, and there were more women getting nearer now. After a brief second of trying to fold it, during which he almost tied the damn thing in knots, Jack gave up and left it on top of the display before dashing after the others.

“Ah, thought we’d lost you to your day-dreaming,” Alice said when he caught up. “Grab a seat there, we shouldn’t be too long.” And before Jack could say anything the pair of them disappeared behind a thick, velvet curtain.

Jack spent a moment wondering if he should go in and check on Rowan. Knowing Alice however, she probably already had her shirt off. While he was busy hovering about a shop assistant slipped past him, and Jack realised he was right in the way. With no other options he threw himself into the chair. It was huge, with ridiculous wings that blocked out his peripheral vision. The thought that he could be jumped by half-naked mannequins or imaginary finishing school teachers meant he couldn’t settle, although now he was in the ‘appointed waiting seat’ he was getting less weird looks.

Just as long as they don’t think I’m dating either of them.

Whatever the measuring process involved, it did not, as Jack had assumed, take only ten minutes so. Somewhere after the first hour he stopped keeping track of the time, and he was busy sending up silent prayers that at least this place – strange as it was in all other aspects – at least had Wi-Fi, when Alice came out of the mystical depths of the dressing rooms.

“Hey, Alice, what’s up? Is Rowan okay?”

“What?” Alice skidded to a halt beside him. “Oh, she’s loving it. It makes such a difference wearing something that fits properly.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“We’re just having a few style problems, what with her shape and all. Nothing major though, should be done in a bit.”

Alice headed off again, leaving Jack sat there thinking about Rowan’s shape. Of course he’d noticed, but he never felt sure if he should comment or not. Most women got offended if you commented on their breasts, but if he was remarking that Rowan’s were ‘growing in’ as it were, and that she was starting to look more female, would she take offence? I mean, he thought, going over this old ground again, that’s the whole point of the hormones isn’t it?

But however uncertain he was with everything, Jack knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Oliver had been his best friend, and becoming Rowan hadn’t changed that.

Another twenty minutes later and Rowan herself finally emerged from the changing rooms.

“All good?” Jack said, jumping up with the same nervous excitement he’d had when he went to the doctor’s appointments with Rowan.

“Great!” Rowan was carrying a whole bundle of clothes and grinning madly, but Jack could see the smudges at the edges of her eyeliner. There had been some tears, and once again Jack wished that the day would hurry up and arrive when Rowan didn’t have to cry about who she was.

“Did you leave anything left for anyone else to buy?” Jack teased. One of his first promises to Rowan was that he’d still tease her just the same, just like he had for the two decades before.

“A few bits. Let me just pay for these, then we’ll grab some coffee.”

Desperate as he was to leave, to feel sunlight on his face again and breathe fresh air (as well as not be surrounded by endless mirrors and half-naked women), Jack did his best to act casual as he hung next to Rowan, waiting for her to pay.

“Is your boyfriend paying for it?” the cashier asked Rowan with a sly smile.

“Oh, we’re not a couple,” Rowan replied. They got it a lot, and Rowan was just about getting used to saying it without it coming out so hurriedly that it sounded like they were in denial.

“Nah, I’m just a mate. Thought I’d come along and see what all the fuss was about,” Jack said. Biggest mistake of my life, he groaned internally, but he kept up the smile.

“Oooh, clothes shopping with your female friends? Very modern of you,” the cashier said. There hadn’t been a single look at Rowan’s strong jaw-line, or her thicker brow-ridge. Instead Jack was the butt of the life-style comments?

My work here is done, Jack thought with a smug sigh.

The three of them left the shop, and Jack had to fight back the urge to fall to his knees outside. He knew it was stupid, but he suddenly wanted to do something very masculine, like go fishing, or boxing, or fiddle with a car engine. Except he knew that was all rubbish. Gender expectations had been the first thing to go when Rowan appeared on the scene.

Still with his head to the sky, basking in the sunlight and fresh air, Jack peeked across at Rowan. From what he’d overheard she’d left wearing one of the bras, and Jack was curious. Alice had made it sound like magic, like putting on a ‘good’ bra – whatever that meant – could change your life.

What surprised him most was the fact that it seemed to have worked. Whether it was just from being pampered and treated as a woman for so long, or because the bra was actually doing it magic, but Rowan was standing taller and straighter. There was also a giddy glow to her face, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so at ease. Today was definitely worth all the favours he’d called in with Alice, and all the looks and whispering he’d gotten in the shop.

That said…

“Hey, ladies? Is there any chance we could go get that coffee? I really need a drink right now. The world still looks pink…”