Two Doms

The next day was Saturday, and I couldn’t spend too long worrying about my father, because Miel had organized a protest against the school’s investment in certain big pharma companies.

“Animal testing is murder!” Miel shouted into a megaphone. She turned to me, “So what do you think? Are you gonna help out with Kermit’s secret project?” 

“I think I need more time to think about it,” I said, “This thing with my dad….”

“I totally get it,” said Miel. She raised the megaphone to her mouth again, “Insulin should be free!”

I cheered along with the crowd. I had a nagging feeling that some of my father's companies might make a lot of profit from insulin not being free. But that didn't mean Miel was wrong. 

“The practice of– crap,” Miel smacked the side of her megaphone, “I think this thing’s out of battery. Could you grab me a new one?”

“Sure,” I said. I turned to grab a new battery from Miel’s bag, and almost collided with Jess and Shawnee as they moved through the crowd from behind us.

“Hey! Watch it, narc!” Jess snapped. 

“Babe, chill,” said Shawnee, “That's Dom.”

I raised my head warily, “Hi.”

“Ew, Dom,” Jess wrinkled her nose, “Why are you dressed like a Young Republican?”

“Jess!” Shawnee admonished her girlfriend then turned to me with her trademark sunny smile, “You look great, Dom.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Jess, “Let's not go crazy. Dom, I love you, but you look like shit. This is not your style.”

I blushed. I was still wearing men's clothes, in preparation for my father's visit. Today it was a polo shirt tucked into khakis, with crisp dress shoes. My hair was pulled back into a low man-bun. Father wouldn't be thrilled with that, but I just couldn't bring myself to cut it. Not before I'd ever even tried a feminine haircut. 

“Oh my god, shut up!” Shawnee hissed. 

“No, it's… it's okay,” I passed Miel the new battery. She fiddled with the megaphone as Shawnee and Jess kept arguing. 

“No, for real,” said Jess, “Babe, you were literally just saying how cute Dom looked the other day, With the makeup and all.”

“It wasn't just the makeup!” Shawnee protested, “Dom, you look great whether you're wearing makeup or not.”

“Hey, I'm not being un-woke by telling a guy he looks good in makeup,” said Jess, “Don't twist this around on me!” 

“How does this stupid thing work…?” Miel muttered, still fiddling with the megaphone.

“I liked your outfit too,” said Shawnee, “With that blue blouse? You really looked great.”

Shit. I hadn't realized my art friends knew I had been wearing women's clothes. I hid my blushing face by crouching down to put away the dead battery Miel handed me. 

“See!” Jess said, “That's your style, Dom. The whole androgynous preppy thing. This situation has gotta go. Look at him, he's shrinking away.”

Shawnee smiled apologetically, “I mean… you do seem more confident when you present more femininely.”

“Purely on an aesthetic level, I'm not putting up with this,” said Jess.

“Dom, you can dress however you feel comfortable, okay?” said Miel. She raised the megaphone to her mouth, “We will not be complicit in– crap, still not working.”

“We will not be complicit in Little Dom rebranding as a narc,” said Jess.

“Do you feel comfortable dressing like this, Dom?” Shawnee asked gently.

“Um,” my heart was pounding in my ears a bit. This was all a lot to deal with, especially with the stress of my dad visiting, and the fact that I hadn't been sleeping well, and the undeniable truth that I really didn’t. 

I glanced sideways at Shawnee and Jess. They were both dressed so much better than me. Shawnee had a style she jokingly called ‘ex-Christian girl autumn’, and was wearing a cute brown skirt over woolen leggings and ankle boots. Jess had her classic ripped jeans and docs. There was a top half to both their outfits too, but I couldn't bring myself to look up right now.

I would so much rather be dressed like either of them. Ever since I had started wearing men’s clothing again in preparation of my father's visit, I had this tightness in my chest, like I was holding my breath a bit at all times. It wasn't fair! It had never bothered me like this before. Or if it had, I had just never noticed it until I knew the difference. 

I straightened up and sighed, “Not really.”

“I knew it,” Jess said triumphantly.

“Wait, so why are you…?” Shawnee asked, “Did someone say something?”

“That asshole roommate!” said Jess.

“No, no!” I said, “Nick is… yes, he’s an asshole, but he’s actually been really cool about the way I dress. It's maybe the one not-annoying thing about him.”

“It’s his dad,” said Miel. She tried again with the megaphone, “Great Oaks must divest from– dang it.”

“Oh, no,” said Jess. She shared a sympathetic look with Shawnee, “Fuckin’ dads.”

“Your dad wouldn't be okay with the way you usually look?” said Shawnee.

I laughed bitterly, “That's the understatement of the century. He would take one look at me and think I was...”

I was about to say exactly what my father would think of me, if he saw me running around in women's clothing, wearing makeup like a drag queen. Pervert. Freak. Disgrace to the family. Other words, too nasty to say in front of my friends. I didn't want to say any of it, really. They had been so cool and accepting with every hesitant foray into girliness I had tried, and I didn't want to upset them with my father’s harsh opinions.

“...he would think I was gay,” I finished lamely. 

Jess and Shawnee looked at me sympathetically. I immediately felt like an idiot, complaining to two lesbians that someone might think I was gay. 

“Which I am,” I added quickly, “But I don't want him to know that.”

“I totally get it,” Shawnee said softly, “That really sucks, Dom. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah,” said Jess, “Dads fucking suck.”

Jess opened her arms, and after a moment I realized she was offering a hug. I hesitantly stepped forward and she wrapped her arms around me tightly. I felt another pair of arms around me and realized that Shawnee had joined in. Then another, as Miel hopped off her soapbox and hugged me too, her megaphone still in her hand.

I didn’t think I had ever been hugged like that. No judgment, no irritation, just warmth and support and understanding from the three girls surrounding me. My friends.

Oh fuck, did I just come out as gay?

I mean, I did like men, but did I really want to stake that claim right now? What if it turned out I liked women as well? Or that I was trans after all? I mean, I probably wasn’t. But then… all the discomfort I had been feeling recently, was that dysphoria? Was that what dysphoria felt like? Or was it just a fashion thing? 

It was too much to think about right now. I just needed to temper their expectations. 

I reluctantly extracted myself from my little cocoon of arms.

“Um, just so you know, I haven't really, like, confirmed that I'm gay yet,” I said. That was more or less true. The stuff with Nick shouldn't really count. “So would it be okay to maybe keep that kind of… secret?”

“Absolutely,” said Jess. Shawnee nodded. Miel was fiddling with the megaphone again. Shawnee nudged her. 

“Oh, yes!” she looked up and raised the megaphone to her mouth reflexively, “We won't tell anyone you're gay, Dom!”

The three of us stared at her in horror. Miel examined the megaphone. 

“Hey, it worked that time!” she said brightly. Then, “Oh, fuck!”

Jess wrestled the megaphone out of her hands and even Shawnee looked ready to strangle her. But I was already laughing. 

“It's okay!” I said, “Screw it, it's okay. It suits me better than being a straight guy, anyway. You know what?”

I took the megaphone and hopped up on Miel's soapbox. 

“Dominic Lane is gay!” I announced. Then, just in case there were any track and field fanatics in attendance, I added, “The little one!”

Miel, Shawnee and Jess applauded, and a few of the other ACORN regulars gave me congratulatory woos. I saw Mateus lower his picket sign to give me a big thumbs up. I waved back happily. Other than that, the crowd just looked confused. This was not really the purpose of the rally.

“Also, insulin should be free!” I declared. 

That got cheers.

***

The protest ended up being a pretty decent success. Our perpetually indecisive dean announced that “the process of determining the values which govern the development of our investment strategy will be opened to review”. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Miel and the ACORN committee were already planning their next steps.

In the meantime, Shawnee, Jess and I snuck off to the weed tree to celebrate my coming out. It wasn't the first time I had spent time with them, but it felt different, and it took me a little while to figure out why. I was one of them. For the first time, our little trio wasn't a lesbian couple hanging out with their straight friend. We were three queer people. Shawnee and Jess had never shut me out. They admitted they kinda knew I had “something fruity” going on, which should've felt insulting but instead felt like the greatest of compliments. Still, now that I was open about it, there was another level of connection between us. A common understanding. It felt… nice.

The thought of taking down Kermit Tsu was still lingering in the back of my mind, but it felt like less and less of a priority. After the past few nights, I was starting to think maybe solo living wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Nick wasn't so bad, really. Once he stopped throwing his little tantrum, anyway. 

I originally wanted my own room so I could experiment in private, but that was becoming less of a concern, too. While we were giggling behind the tree, Jess insisted that I change out of my “narc costume”, and after more smoking and more giggling, we did a sneaky clothing swap. Jess kept watch and barked at anyone who got too close, while Shawnee wriggled out of her leggings and passed them to me.

“Isn't this a bit intimate?” I whispered.

“It's fine,” she giggled, “You’re one of the girls. Um. No offense.”

“None taken,” I grinned.

Shawnee decided to keep her skirt instead of wearing my khakis, then she took Jess’s place on guard while the two of us traded shirts. Somehow, the men's polo looked a lot better on Jess. Even with her shaved head she was a lot more feminine than me, obviously, and instead of looking like a dork she looked cool and alternative. But I didn't look so bad in her shirt, either. 

The three of us were all around the same size, and their clothes fit me surprisingly well. Somehow I felt way more comfortable than I had in my own clothes. I pulled off my hair tie and shook my hair free. 

“Yay!” Jess clapped approvingly, “There's our beautiful boy.”

I blushed. Shawnee turned and smiled.

“You look great, Dom,” she said, “Oh, and who is this handsome butch?”

Jess gave an obliging spin in my polo shirt and the two of us oohed and ahhed approvingly. Shawnee insisted we should take a group pic, and nestled her phone in a crook of the tree. For the first time, I found myself actually smiling while taking a photo.

I think Shawnee must've pinched Jess’s butt while we were posing, because Jess let out a yelp and before I knew it the two of them were making out. I laughed and went to check the photo. 

Oh, wow.

At first I thought I was looking at the wrong picture. Jess and Shawnee were there, and it was clear that Shawnee was indeed making a lascivious advance on her girlfriend, but the person standing next to them didn't look like me. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it was a girl. 

The outfit made a big difference, of course. The tight leggings showed off my slender legs, nipping in tightly at my waist, much higher up then my men's pants. I still habitually kept myself tucked back in my panties, and I was very pleased to see there was no gross bulge. Jess’s loose, cropped t-shirt disguised the boxy shape of my upper body, and hung low on one shoulder in a casual, feminine way. But I had worn outfits this feminine, or even moreso, many times before. The difference in this photo was all attitude. 

Without noticing it I had slipped into a more feminine pose, leaning on Jess’s shoulder, one hip popped out. And I was smiling. Even without makeup on, I really did look prettier when I smiled. I wasn't sure what it was – being high, being with my friends, the relief of finally changing out of my uncomfortable men's clothes, or the freedom of being out as queer for the first time in my life – but I looked relaxed and happy and free in that photo. Somehow it was the most like a girl I had ever looked. 

“Did the photo turn out okay?” Shawnee asked, taking a break from her makeout session.

I beamed, “It turned out great.”

I hung out with Jess and Shawnee for another few hours. After a while, Miel came and joined us, and we smoked some more, and she complimented my outfit, and Jess declared that she was going to use my khakis in an art project, and Shawnee said that she couldn't just steal my pants without asking, and I said I was happy to never wear those stupid khakis again, and Miel wore them on her arms and did this stupid bit where she pretended like they were the jaws of a crocodile, and Jess and Shawnee said “khakidile” at the same time, and Miel chased us around the tree with the khakidile snapping its teeth, and I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pass out. At one point I got a call from my father's assistant, but I let it ring out. My father was never coming to visit, I realized. He would always have something more important than me, and I was fine with that, because I had something more important than him now, too. 

When I finally got back to my dorm room and collapsed on the couch, I saw that I had another missed call from my father’s assistant and a text from Nick. 

I checked Nick’s text first. He wanted to know if he could come by the room to grab his work uniform for his shift tomorrow. I texted back and told him to come by anytime, then laid back on the couch with a grin. Clearly he was getting sick of spending time with Karl. Well, maybe I would allow him to spend the night. Maybe I would even give him a little treat. If he asked nicely. 

Only a few minutes later, I heard a sharp knock on my door. That was funny. Usually Nick just barged in and announced his presence by slamming the door behind him. This was a suspicious upgrade in manners, and I could only assume he was doing it sarcastically. Well, whatever, I was in too good of a mood to let it annoy me. 

I hopped to my feet and flung open the door with a flirty, “Heyyy…”

My voice trailed off as I realized the man outside the door wasn't Nick at all. It was my father. 

“Dominic,” he said, his face screwed up in disdain, “What in the hell are you wearing?”