Peter returns to the changing room and leaves the skirt and leotard as he found them. It all seemed so innocent when he removed them from the hook an hour ago, just as the tap shoes he’s been wearing seem innocent enough… to him at least. It doesn’t matter as long as they’re tap shoes, he thought as he carefully wound his pop socks around his outstretched fingers, and put them with the tap shoes in his bag.
Back in his own clothes, he exits the changing room and joins his sister. They leave the studio and walk around the block to the car park where their mother should be waiting. Another couple of girls from the tap dancing class wave a greeting to Peter as they climb into their parent’s car. Shyly he waves back and comments that they haven’t changed out of their dance gear.
“Lots of them don’t.” Sally replied. “I think the skirts are a bit short for street wear.” she adds glancing around the car park. “No sign of mum.” she observes, before suggesting they wait on the wall. After a brief silence, and sensing that her brother is still feeling a little embarrassed, she asks. “So, apart from the mix up… did you enjoy it?”
“Yeah.” he replied. “I enjoyed it right up until I realised that I wasn’t supposed to wear the leotard that was hanging in the changing room!”
Sally grinned the broadest of grins. “So… you enjoyed it all the way from the beginning to the end?” Peter glumly nodded. “That’s great!” she said.
“You could have said something at the beginning though.” he replied.
“I know… but I didn’t know how to say it.” Sally replied. “Nobody else said anything so I thought it best not to say anything either.”
“I honestly thought that’s what we wore.” Peter stated, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t my fault!
“Well I’m glad you did.” Sally replied. “I was a bit worried how they’d react with a new boy joining… but you got off scot free.”
“What are they normally like?” he asked.
“Normally they’re fine if it’s just girls… but a few months ago a boy joined and nobody was nice to him. They’d stare and whisper and gossip about him… then push him over when Miss Baxter wasn’t looking, and claim he slipped or fell… he stopped coming after a few weeks.” Sally told him. “But he did seem to think he was better than us girls just because he was a boy…. ’til we put him in his place”
Peter gulped at ‘we put him in his place’ yet was thankful he’d not been treated that way, so far. “You think I should wear the same thing next week then?” he asked as the words ‘they’re fine if it’s just girls’ rattled around his skull.
“Yes. I think you should… but it’s up to you.” Sally replies. “Here’s mum.” she said, jumping off the wall.
“Did you enjoy yourself Peter?” his mother asked as he climbed onto the back seat. He told her he did and Sally told her how impressed Miss Baxter was with his dancing, and that he could come back next week. “Oh that’s good.” his mother replied. “Although it’ll be a while before I can afford to get you some tap shoes of your own… and some dance-wear.” she added.
“That’s OK.” Peter replied. “I’ve got Sally’s shoes and…” he cut himself short, not sure if he should tell his mother about the mix-up in the changing room.
“You don’t mind wearing girl’s shoes for now?” his mother asked. “I mean I would buy you some of your own but if you’re going to give up after a couple of months it’ll be a waste of money.” she explained.
“No they’re fine I guess.” he replied.
Sally looked back at her brother and cast him a broad grin. “I don’t think he minds wearing girl’s shoes. He accidentally wore a leotard and skirt too and you didn’t mind that did you?” she giggled.
“Not until I realised I wasn’t supposed to wear it.” he blushed. “I just thought that’s what we were supposed to wear!”
“What’s this?” their mother asked, wondering if she’d heard correctly. Between them, they explained the mistake and the fact that everybody was OK with it. Sally said none the girls teased him, and added that the teacher said he could wear it again next week if he doesn’t want to wear shorts.
His mother quizzed him on why he wouldn’t want to wear shorts and after a brief pause for thought, he explained. “Well, I’m the only boy and don’t want to stand out that much… plus, shorts won’t bounce around like the skirts do.”
His mother glanced at her daughter. They shared a grin before she glanced at her son through the rear view mirror. “Well if it makes you feel more comfortable blending in with a group of girls?” she says, visualising Peter and Sally dancing side by side; black clackety shoes, white tights, matching black leotards and bouncy little skirts. If it doesn’t bother him then it shouldn’t bother her, his mother thought.
When they arrive home their mother makes them a sandwich each along with a glass of fizzy pop. It’s a sunny day so they eat in the garden, and Sally suggests they should practice some more. “We could show mum what we learnt today.” she adds. “Seeing as mum pays for our classes.”
“OK.” Peter replies.
Sally glances at her mother, then to her brother before suggesting, “I’ve got a spare leotard and skirt if you want?” she pauses as a look of reluctance sweeps her brother’s face. “I mean, you’ll get too warm in your pants and sweatshirt.” she states, looking up at the beating sun, “…and it’ll be better if we both look the part.” she adds. “Don’t you think mum?”
Their mother has been intrigued since they revealed that Peter had taken the entire class dressed just like all the other girls and, feeling like she’s missed out, she says, “That’s a very good idea.”
Ten minutes later, Sally and very sheepish Peter step out through the patio doors; Sally wears her black leotard with the Betty Baxter School of Dance logo on, with a voile wrap skirt. Whilst Peter wears a pale blue leotard and a matching skirt.”Well look at you.” their mother smiles.
Peter looks down at himself, gulps and smiles back.
“If I’d known you looked that good in a skirt I’d have bought you one years ago.” his mother teases before they go through some of the basic routines. She watches for ten or fifteen minutes and is clearly impressed. “You are very good Peter, considering you’ve only had one lesson.” his mother says as they stop for a breather.
“Well, Sally has given me lessons too.” he replies, much to his sister’s delight.
“Would you like more drinks? It looks like very thirsty work.” Mother asks as she goes to refill the pitcher. When she returns, they’re sat at the patio table eagerly chattering. “It’s hard to believe one of these gossiping girls is my son.” she grins as she refills their glasses.
Peter blushes but doesn’t seem offended. He looks down at himself and straightens his leg, pointing his toes. He’s blatantly aware that he looks like a girl as he observes his short skirt, thin legs, pop socks and shoes. “Oh no!” he says in a sulky voice, lifting his knee and running his fingers down his shin.
“What?” his mother says, looking at his leg, “Oh it’s just a ladder.” she says. “We’ll get you some more.”
He quizzes his mother, who explains that pop socks are very delicate and don’t last very long. “Fortunately they’re cheap so I’ll get you some more before next week.” she smiles as she pushes her fingers through his hair. “Unless you’d prefer tights?” his mother suggested. “I guess most of the other girls wear tights.”
“You can borrow some of mine if you want?” Sally offers.
Peter looks at his sister’s legs, clad in white tights which appear much thicker than his pop socks. “Aren’t they warm?” he asks.
“Not really.” Sally replies as she put her foot on the bench and runs her hand over her stockinged leg. “They’re nicer than pop socks.” she adds.
With a little prompt from their mother, Peter follows his sister to her room where she routes out a pair of tights for him. She lifts her skirt to show him they should go ‘under’ his leotard.
“I know!” he blushes.
She asks him if he knows how to put tights on, before demonstrating how to gather them up to the toe and to pull them on carefully, “Otherwise you’ll ladder them.”
Peter goes to his room and strips down to his underpants. He carefully pulls on the tights, followed by his leotard and skirt before he finally slides his stockinged feet into the tap shoes. His mother is the first to see him and she tells him he looks ‘sweet’. His sister asks him how they feel. “Well… they are a bit strange… but quite nice I guess.” he replies, looking down at himself.
“I’ll buy you some of your own for next week.” his mother suggests.
“Aren’t they expensive?” Peter asked.
“Not at all.” his mother smiled. “The shoes are but we can easily afford a leotard and some tights.”
Peter does feel a little embarrassed being dressed as a girl. But he did feel like he did fit in at his first tap class… and as his sister and the dance teacher said, the other girls accepted him because he wasn’t dressed as a boy. “OK.” Peter timidly said.
The following Saturday, Peter and his sister go to their tap class and Peter attends wearing his sister’s old tap shoes and his own leotard, circle skirt and tights. He was self conscious at first but the girls didn’t seem at all bothered. In fact half of them said it was nice to see him back, which left Peter feeling warm inside.
The class is more or less the same; starting with a warm up and stretching, followed by a variety of basic routines. Miss Baxter claps the timing and shouts instructions, frequently reminding Peter to concentrate on keeping his head still. It’s easier said than done when ones feet are tapping away, but he tries his best.
After a short break, Miss Baxter drags a very large bag from the store room. “Right girls.” she announces, pulling the bag open. “We’ll do some pompom practice for the last half hour… so if you each grab a pair, we’ll get started.”
“Pompoms?!” Peter quizzes as he and Sally approach what looks like a huge pile of tinsel.
“Yes, pompoms.” Sally grins.
Back in line, Peter looks the reflection of the four rows of dancing girls, each holding a pair of big pompoms. “Now follow my lead girls!” Miss Baxter says, before pressing play in the cassette player.
Peter soon realises that dancing with pompoms is harder than it looks. Miss Baxter walks over and gives him some one-to-one tuition, “Follow my lead Peter, and don’t forget about your feet.” she says. He tries to keep up but struggles to do one thing with his feet and another with his arms. “Concentrate on the steps but don’t forget about your arms.” she reminds him. “Head up Peter… and remember, the mirror is your friend.”
Peter knows he has a habit of looking down. He looks straight ahead at his own reflection; one of many girls in a bouncy skirt, waving his pompoms as best he can. He drops his head again to concentrate on his footwork, but Miss Baxter shouts “Head up Peter!” After the pompom practice, Peter confesses to Sally that that was really hard.
Once the class is over, Miss Baxter approaches Peter and says she’s pleased he decided to return, and wanted to double check that he was happy dressing as a girl.
“It makes sense.” Peter replied, before telling her that his mother had bought him his own leotard, skirt and tights.
“Oh!” Mrs Baxter seemed surprised. “I thought you’d worn the one I’d left in the changing room for you.” she said. Peter bashfully shook his head. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy… just don’t get offended if I forget you’re a boy and refer to the whole class as ‘girls’, which I do tend to do.” she smiled.
Peter felt himself blushing and said it was OK.
Miss Baxter then offered him some constructive criticism. “Whilst your foot work is excellent, you need to be more aware of your upper body. Your head and arms are all over the place, so you need to concentrate on being graceful as well as rhythmic.”
“I know… I can’t help but look at my feet half the time.” he replies.
“Yes I noticed.. but remember you can see your feet perfectly well in the mirror.” she advises. “..along with the rest of your body. Grace is everything so if you’re looking directly ahead, you’re halfway to being graceful”
“OK.”
“I think part of the problem is that you’re a little bit scared of your reflection.” Miss Baxter suggests. “The best advice I can give you is, don’t by shy when you look in the mirror and see a girl reflected instead of a boy. Be proud and keep that head up.”
The sound of heels on parquet grabbed both Peter and miss Baxter’s attention. “Hi Peter… how was class?” his mother asked.
“Good.” he sheepishly replied. “I need to work on being more graceful.”
Miss Baxter and Peter’s mother were already acquainted. They greeted each other before Peter’s mother asked how he was getting on. “Very well.” Miss Baxter replied. “You have two very talented children.” she complimented.
“Thank you.” his mother replied bashfully. She told Peter to find his sister and then get changed, before turning back to Miss Baxter. “I just wanted to check he was getting on OK and that you’re happy to have a boy in amongst all these girls.” she said, glancing around and wondering which was her son, then spotting him chatting with a group girls.
“He seems to be getting on fine… leaps and bounds as far as his dancing is concerned.” Miss Baxter replied. “And he seems to be fitting in perfectly with the girl’s.” she said.
“I hope so.” his mother replied, glancing around too. “He’s the only boy I guess?”
“Yes.” Miss Baxter replied. “It’s a pity not many boys attend, and those who do don’t stay long.” she said with a hint of reluctance. “Maybe if they tried to fit in like Peter does, it’d be different.”
“Yes.” his mother said.
After a brief silence, Miss Baxter asked, “So, how do you feel about Peter attending?” she paused, “I mean, attending dressed as a girl?”
“Well it’s a little unusual… but as long as he’s happy.” she replies. “It’s nice he and Sally have got something in common for once.”
“And you’re happy for him to attend as one of the girls?” Miss Baxter asked.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have bought him a leotard and skirt if I wasn’t.” his mother replied, trying to spot both her son and daughter amongst the various groups of girls. All of them are identical in their black tap shoes, white tights, black leotards and tiny flared skirts. “How does she tell them apart?” she thought before spotting Peter and Sally by the changing rooms, both looking just like the other girls; all legs and leotards. “He’s been practising at home a fair bit… have you any advice on where he can improve?”
“He seems a little reluctant to work with the mirror.” Miss Baxter adds. “I think seeing himself dressed as a girl is a little off putting… he keeps dropping his head, then his arms go all akimbo.”
“Well I suppose it’ll take a little getting used to… but he does seem comfortable enough.” his mother replies. “I’ve even started wondering what to do with his hair. He really needs a trim but I’m thinking I should let it grow a little more then he could tie it up in bunches.” she chuckled, not sure if she was joking or not.