Last Moments to Honor Love by: Joshua Alexander Villatoro, Acrylic Paint, 2019

A Tomboy Named Bobby

It felt like I had been sitting in this chair for an eternity but turned out I had only been sitting here for a couple of hours, which was still a long time, especially since I had become my sister’s personal doll to play dress up with.

“Hold still Bobby!” my sister barked as she held my face tightly, trying to fix the mascara I had smudged a few minutes earlier. I was not enjoying this whole debacle, in fact, I felt extremely uncomfortable. Unlike my older sister, Lacey, who enjoyed getting dressed up and fixing her hair into a different style every day, I took satisfaction in torn-up jeans, oversized t-shirts, a simple ponytail, and the same pair of ratty Chuck Taylors I wore every day. I never really saw the point in getting all dressed up just to parade around people I didn’t even like; it was a ridiculous idea. 

Still, here I was. Lacey had fixed my hair in what she called a “half up half down” style. She had taken half of my hair, twisting it from the front of my face to the back of my head where she had created a messy little bun that somehow looked oddly cute, and the remaining part of my hair had been curled at the tips then laid to rest on my shoulders. The makeup was simple, with only neutral colors, as I had requested. My Chuck Taylors had been replaced by black heels with straps that traced my ankles revealing how small my feet actually were and exposed my toenails that had been painted a deep shade of purple to match my fingernails and dress. I even traded in my glasses for the contacts I never really wore.

Even though I didn’t exactly feel normal with all the changes I had just endured, the hair and makeup didn’t really bother me that much; what made me extremely self-conscious was the dress. When I first saw the dress I fell in love with it immediately. The top of the dress had a sweetheart neckline and was a dark purple that almost looked black. The bottom of the dress was a soft purple made from a different fabric to make it lighter: that way it could flow freely when walking in it, unlike the top which was tight around the waist. I wanted to buy it but I stopped myself because a girl like me could never pull off a dress like that. It was made for girls like my sister, not tomboys with the name Bobby. I had walked away not expecting to ever see that dress again, but I had made the mistake of telling my sister about it, who then blabbed about it to my dad, and a week later it was hanging on my bedroom door. I had the dress for over a month but could never muster up enough courage to put it on until my sister finally forced me into it. 

“And done!” Lacey said, popping her lips. She stood back scanning my face to make sure every little detail was perfect and I hadn’t messed anything else up.

“Come on, Bobby, stand up! Stand up! I need to see the full picture!” she squealed, grabbing me by the hands, practically yanking me out of the chair, causing me to stumble over my own feet that were not accustomed to such high heels. Once I gained my balance, I stood awkwardly in front of my sister who was admiring her work as if I was a piece of art.

“Holy shit, Bobby, you look amazing,” Lacey said, smiling like a fool. I began to feel hot. The dress was much more form fitting than I had expected, hugging curves that were normally never exposed, and I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I just felt weird, out of place and odd. I peered over my shoulder to the mirror Lacey had covered up, dying to see what I looked like, when all of a sudden Lacey snapped my face back in her direction.

“Lacey, please just let me take one look at myself,” I begged, but Lacey didn’t budge.

“Oh no. If you take one look at yourself in that mirror all my hard work will go down the drain and that dress will be off in a split second, I know how you work,” she said with her hands on her hips, shooting me a nasty glare. I knew she was right but I continued to press her.

“Lacey, I need to see how I look. You haven’t let me even take a peek since you started dressing me up. It’s my prom – I should be able to see what I look like before I go waltzing in there,” I said getting rather annoyed, but it didn’t faze Lacey.

“Bobby, you are going to the dance with Otter, who has been your best friend for as long as I can remember and has also been the most fugly kid I have ever met in my life. Trust me, they will be staring at him because he will probably be in some hideous outfit,” she said, shaking her head as she made a few touch-ups to my hair. 

I hadn’t even thought about Otter. He was probably going to make fun of me seeing that he had never actually seen me in a dress before and it was true that he was probably going to be in some ridiculous outfit trying to get a laugh out of people. I was especially curious about what he was going to do with his hair that closely resembled a mop. I smiled to myself imagining what Otter was going to look like tonight. 

For the last couple of years as we got older, I began to wonder if Otter and I could ever be more than just friends. When he asked me to prom over all the other girls, I had played it off, making it seem as if it hadn’t been a big deal, but secretly I had been hoping he would ask me because maybe this could be the start of a new chapter. My smile widened across my cheeks. This could be the night we finally see what’s on the other side of the friendzone. 

A nervous rush washed over my body. All of a sudden the giddy thoughts fled my mind and were replaced with obnoxious worries. What if he didn’t like the dress? What if we both look like complete idiots? What if I trip over the dress and break an ankle in front of everyone? In that moment I began to panic.

I didn’t even want to go to this stupid dance. I was perfectly content with sitting at home watching movies all night and stuffing my face with unhealthy foods of my choice. Instead, I was being forced to attend a dance filled with people who would judge every little thing about me. My palms began to sweat. It was unlike me to get flustered by the thought of people dissecting every part of me just to try and figure out my flaws, but being in this dress and looking the way I did in that moment was absolutely unnerving because I was out of my comfort zone, completely exposed. But what terrified me to my very core was that I actually felt pretty. I had never felt pretty before—I had never looked like this before—and I wondered if Otter was going to like this version of me better. I felt like vomiting. What if at midnight I reverted back to being just Otter Beckett’s best friend in a baggy hoodie with beat-up shoes? What if I never felt this pretty again? My heart was racing, tears burned my eyes, and a lump formed in my throat. 

“Lacey, I can’t go,” I whispered, but she didn’t hear me. I felt my eyes begin to sting even more and my stomach was in knots. I did not belong in this dress and I was far from graceful in these shoes. I didn’t feel overwhelmed with excitement like most girls do on prom night; instead, I was an anxiety-ridden mess. Before I could experience the full-fledged panic attack that was about to explode my father’s voice chimed in.

“Bobby, Otter is waiting for you outsi—” I turned around now completely facing my dad, who was just staring at me in shock. My cheeks flushed red.

“I look dumb, don’t I?” I said, with tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks. My father smiled, shaking his head, making his way towards me. He dabbed the tears with the corner of his shirt, careful not to ruin the makeup, then wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his signature dad bearhug, squeezing me tightly.

“No, sweetheart, you do not look dumb. You look absolutely incredible.” My dad was not the most sentimental guy but he was always there to dust us off when we fell down and I loved him for that. I hugged him tightly, knowing I was about to get a mini-speech on putting myself out there and being confident in myself. 

“Now you listen to me, Bobby Andrews,” my dad said, holding me by the shoulder so he could see my face, “I know this isn’t normally your style and you probably feel uncomfortable as hell but you deserve to have a good prom so go out there and have a fantastic time.” He kissed the top of my head. I gave him a small smile, trying my best to push down my insecurities although they were still trying to crowd my thoughts. My sister was tapping her foot impatiently.

“Can we get a move on, already? I want to go see what that dork is wearing!”

After a couple minutes of fixing my makeup for the millionth time, making my way down the stairs holding onto the railing praying to god I wouldn’t fall, and listening to Lacey repeatedly telling me not to step on the dress, I was finally at the front door with my heart trying to beat out of my chest.

I honestly don’t know why I was so nervous: it was just Otter, after all. The same Otter that ate a worm at recess in 3rd grade. The same Otter I had seen tear his pants at a pep rally in 6th grade in front of the whole class. The same Otter that had single-handedly started a food fight freshman year and got 2 months of detention. The Otter I had known my whole life. Yet I was worried that he wouldn’t like what he saw. 

“Hurry up and go out there already!” Lacey yelled. I took one final breath, then opened the door. I saw him at the end of the driveway in front of his car with his back facing me. Carefully I stepped out of the doorway onto the porch. Once I made sure the dress was out of the way I shut the door behind me. He heard the door, then turned to face me.

His hair that he had been growing for the last 4 years that once reached the middle of his back was now a short chestnut-colored wave that flattered his facial structure, the peach fuzz he liked to call his “manly facial hair” was shaved off, exposing a cut jawline, and he wore a traditional tux with a dark purple bow tie which made him look extremely handsome. 

I expected him to say something but his jaw simply opened and shut waiting for words to fall out but it was like he lost his voice. I smiled as my cheeks began to blush. He was never at a loss for words. In a split second, all of my fears and worries about prom faded, then were replaced with a warm, hopeful feeling that this night was going to be the night everything changed.