“You look smashing,” I said. “Like a model or something.”
“Thank you,” he said, and he looked genuinely pleased.
“You seem as though you like it.”
He shrugged. “If I have to look like a girl, I’d rather be a pretty one than an ugly one!”
He crossed his legs and it was impossible not to notice how smooth and sleek they looked. It was obvious that he had shaved them.
“What are you wearing underneath?”
He feigned shock. “Alan! You can’t ask a girl that! It’s impolite!”
“Sorry,” I said, grinning now at his convincing playacting.
“But, since you ask, I’m wearing what any girl would wear under her best outfit, of course.”
“Is that outfit new, or is it one of your Mom’s?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, it’s new, and yes, it’s from my Mom’s store. She bought it for me.”
“For you?”
“Oh, you know what I mean, from her store, but for me to wear.”
I was listening to the way he was talking. He hardly sounded like the Bobby I knew! His voice was softer. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers through the lace of his gloves and I noticed his nails were painted a vivid red. He smelled of a delicious perfume as well.
“You sure went to a lot of trouble,” I said.
“Mom said we had to do it right. This is my first public appearance, after all.”