be fun to see what I’d look like as my own sister.
“What will our girl names be?” Sean says, adjustingthe twisted straps on his dress. “I want to be Sierra. It’s mysterious yet sexy.”
“We don’t need girl names.” Coop tugs Cathy’s shirt over his head. “We just need to look like girls.”
“Sean’s right,” I say. “We need names. If someone asks, we need to know without stumbling.”
“Fine, I’ll just use my cousin’s name. Dominique,” Coop says.
“Nah,” Sean says. “You look more like a Fanny.”
“Oh, yeah?” Coop pulls down on his collar to stretch it out. “And you look like a sphincter.”
“Okay, girls, enough,” I say, zipping up my denim skirt. “Let’s just pick our own names. I’ll be Topaz because it’s my birthstone.”
“Dude, you know your birthstone?” Coop turns around in his velvet Merlin shirt and tighty whities. “You’re already a girl.”
Sean looks at himself in Cathy’s full-length closet mirror. He turns from right to left to right. “I’m not going to lie. I look pretty good in this dress.”
Coop laughs as he pulls up his skirt. “I’m not going to lie either, Sierra. You look
too
good in that dress.”
“We need makeup.” Sean skips over to Cathy’s mirrored bureau.
“We need music,” Coop says, moving over to the iPod docked in a speaker system on the bedside table. “Girls always listen to music when they’re trying on theirnew outfits.” He scrolls through the songs and smiles when he finds one he likes. “Ah-ha. Perfect. I should have been born in the eighties.” Coop hits PLAY and rolls up the volume. There’s a streak of keyboard and electronic drums and a familiar guitar riff and I realize pretty quickly that it’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” The song is bouncy and ridiculous, and I think maybe this is getting a little too bizarre.
Coop starts to spin around, twirling his skirt so it fans out, and Sean starts rocking his shoulders and bobbing his head as he puts on lipstick, and then it’s like, what the hell, so I start dancing, too.
The three of us gather around the bureau and start putting on mascara and eye shadow and lip liner. Coop finds some purple nail polish and moves to the bed and starts doing his nails. All the while Cyndi Lauper squeaks out how when the working day is done she wants to be the one who walks in the sun.
“Girls are lucky,” Coop says as he strokes his nails with the sparkly plum polish. “They can grow up and they don’t have to stop wearing costumes.”
“What do you think, Sierra?” I say, puckering up my smudgy, dark red lips and batting my rust-colored eyelids. “Is this too much?”
“Not with a name like Topaz,” Sean says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She means you look like your name sounds,” Coop says. “Like a cheap prostitute.”
“Topaz is not a prostitute’s name.”
“Oh, sorry,” Coop says, pulling off his socks and starting in on his toenails. “A cheap stripper, then.”
“You should talk,
Dominique.
” I grab the blush and start brushing it on my cheeks. “I think I saw you in that movie. What was it called again?
Waving Ryan’s Privates?
Yeah, that was it.”
“Good one.” Coop laughs and accidentally swipes the nail polish brush across his foot. “Now look what you made me do, Topaz, you bitch.”
I stand up tall and jut out my chest. “I need breasts.”
“Don’t we all.” Coop laughs.
I bop over to the dresser and locate the drawer where Cathy keeps her underwear. I start pulling out different colored bras to find one that will match my outfit. I grab two bras — a pink one and a white one — that could work. I turn and hold them up. I’m about to ask Coop and Sean for their opinion.
But I don’t get the chance.
“What the hell?!” A girl’s voice — Cathy’s — screams over the music.
ALL THREE OF US WHIP our heads around to see Cathy and her friend Nessa framed in the doorway. As usual
“What will our girl names be?” Sean says, adjustingthe twisted straps on his dress. “I want to be Sierra. It’s mysterious yet sexy.”
“We don’t need girl names.” Coop tugs Cathy’s shirt over his head. “We just need to look like girls.”
“Sean’s right,” I say. “We need names. If someone asks, we need to know without stumbling.”
“Fine, I’ll just use my cousin’s name. Dominique,” Coop says.
“Nah,” Sean says. “You look more like a Fanny.”
“Oh, yeah?” Coop pulls down on his collar to stretch it out. “And you look like a sphincter.”
“Okay, girls, enough,” I say, zipping up my denim skirt. “Let’s just pick our own names. I’ll be Topaz because it’s my birthstone.”
“Dude, you know your birthstone?” Coop turns around in his velvet Merlin shirt and tighty whities. “You’re already a girl.”
Sean looks at himself in Cathy’s full-length closet mirror. He turns from right to left to right. “I’m not going to lie. I look pretty good in this dress.”
Coop laughs as he pulls up his skirt. “I’m not going to lie either, Sierra. You look
too
good in that dress.”
“We need makeup.” Sean skips over to Cathy’s mirrored bureau.
“We need music,” Coop says, moving over to the iPod docked in a speaker system on the bedside table. “Girls always listen to music when they’re trying on theirnew outfits.” He scrolls through the songs and smiles when he finds one he likes. “Ah-ha. Perfect. I should have been born in the eighties.” Coop hits PLAY and rolls up the volume. There’s a streak of keyboard and electronic drums and a familiar guitar riff and I realize pretty quickly that it’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” The song is bouncy and ridiculous, and I think maybe this is getting a little too bizarre.
Coop starts to spin around, twirling his skirt so it fans out, and Sean starts rocking his shoulders and bobbing his head as he puts on lipstick, and then it’s like, what the hell, so I start dancing, too.
The three of us gather around the bureau and start putting on mascara and eye shadow and lip liner. Coop finds some purple nail polish and moves to the bed and starts doing his nails. All the while Cyndi Lauper squeaks out how when the working day is done she wants to be the one who walks in the sun.
“Girls are lucky,” Coop says as he strokes his nails with the sparkly plum polish. “They can grow up and they don’t have to stop wearing costumes.”
“What do you think, Sierra?” I say, puckering up my smudgy, dark red lips and batting my rust-colored eyelids. “Is this too much?”
“Not with a name like Topaz,” Sean says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She means you look like your name sounds,” Coop says. “Like a cheap prostitute.”
“Topaz is not a prostitute’s name.”
“Oh, sorry,” Coop says, pulling off his socks and starting in on his toenails. “A cheap stripper, then.”
“You should talk,
Dominique.
” I grab the blush and start brushing it on my cheeks. “I think I saw you in that movie. What was it called again?
Waving Ryan’s Privates?
Yeah, that was it.”
“Good one.” Coop laughs and accidentally swipes the nail polish brush across his foot. “Now look what you made me do, Topaz, you bitch.”
I stand up tall and jut out my chest. “I need breasts.”
“Don’t we all.” Coop laughs.
I bop over to the dresser and locate the drawer where Cathy keeps her underwear. I start pulling out different colored bras to find one that will match my outfit. I grab two bras — a pink one and a white one — that could work. I turn and hold them up. I’m about to ask Coop and Sean for their opinion.
But I don’t get the chance.
“What the hell?!” A girl’s voice — Cathy’s — screams over the music.
ALL THREE OF US WHIP our heads around to see Cathy and her friend Nessa framed in the doorway. As usual
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