High School Sweetheart Part 2 Of 4 free porn video

My sentence was over, and I was finally free. The day I'd spent months waiting for had finally arrived, and I found myself stretched out across a cold, metal examination table. I was wearing a hospital gown, but it did little, if anything to warm me while I shivered, alone in the quiet room. There was a soft knock on the door, followed by the doctor entering, and his nurse behind him. "Marion, right?" he asked, while flipping through my chart. "Yes, sir." He set the clipboard down, and the nurse pulled the thin blanket I was covered with off of me, exposing the paper mache, crotchless shorts, that had been the bane of my existence for the last year. He fit two fingers down the waist, and said, "It looks like you've gained quite a bit of weight since you've been stuck in that thing. I'm guessing your mother's a good cook?" I smiled, and replied, "The best, sir." He returned a warm smile, and asked, "Are you ready to get this thing off?" "Definitely, sir." The nurse had just finished setting up the equipment, so the doctor flipped on the machine, and set to task with the small, wheel-shaped saw. I was apprehensive when he started. Having a vibrating blade that close to your genitals would probably make anyone a little scared. My worries proved unfounded though because if anything the sensation tickled. I giggled so hard that I unclenched my fist for the first time since they walked in. "I love your nail polish," the nurse teased, when she noticed my crimson fingernails. "That's a cute color on you. My face flushed with shame, and my cheeks matched my nails perfectly. "Let me guess," the doctor said, clearly finding the whole situation humorous. "Your sister got a hold of you while you were stuck in bed." "Something, like that," I replied, balling my fist again, and dreaming of the revenge Ela had coming. She could have said something last night about running out of polish remover, but she didn't say a word. "Don't be embarrassed," he said, trying to comfort me. "It happens much more often than you'd think," The doctor finished his two cuts, and said, "Moment of truth." He lifted the top half of the cast off. I was expecting something, but it wasn't the foulest odor I'd ever had the displeasure of sniffing. I nearly vomited. "Don't be embarrassed about the smell, either. That literally happens to everyone. I'll bet you'll be taking a nice long hot shower when you get home." I lifted my pelvis off the table, and they pulled the bottom of the cast from underneath me. The doctor examined my midsection, and seemed satisfied with what he found. "So, the cast was there for a while, so you're going to see some impressions around your waist where the cast didn't leave room to expand. Don't worry about it. It's just like the weird heads newborn babies have. Just give it a little time, and you'll be back to normal. Just take it easy for a few more weeks, so we can be sure everything is behaving. I seriously doubt you want to find yourself back in a cast for any amount of time. No heavy lifting. No running. Walking is going to seem kind of foreign since you can actually move your thighs now, but you'll get the hang of it, soon enough. It's like riding a bike. Any questions for me?" "No sir. Thank you so much." It was the most joyous I'd felt in a long time. I was free, and I was loving it. They left the room, and I got up to get dressed. When I went to slide up my underwear, that's when I saw exactly what the doctor was talking about. My waist was still the slim twenty-eight inches it was when I started, but beneath that, my hips, rear, and thighs had swollen to strange proportions. To me, it looked like my butt had been stung by a thousand bees. Also, on top of where the cast was, I'd also put on some weight. It was the first time I didn't see the outline of my ribs through my skin. Out of curiosity, I stepped on the nearby scale by the door. I fidgeted with the weights until everything balanced out, and sure enough, I'd gained about thirty pounds. I was the heaviest I'd ever been in my life, not that I was large, but it was definitely new. My briefs were so tight that you could barely see the silhouette of my privates which were now firmly pressed into my body. I'd definitely be exercising every day from then on. After my thorough appraisal of my frame, I slipped into my plaid button down, and my blue jeans. The jeans barely made it over my hips, but at my waist they still fit okay. I tucked in my shirt, and after collecting my shoes and socks, I stepped out into the lobby where Magda, and Ela were waiting on the edge of their seats. As soon as she saw me, Magda leapt from her seat, and showered me with affection, and praises. I was up, I was walking under my own power, and on top of all that I was wearing pants. It's funny the things we take for granted, until they're gone. "Your mother can probably fix those when she gets back," she said, holding me at arms length and examining me from head to toe. Magda pulled me back in for another tight hug. She nearly squoze the life out of me, but Ela came to my rescue. "Mom, you're going to break his ribs, and then we'll be stuck here even longer. I'm sure Marion is ready to get home, and take a shower," she said, waving her hand in front of her nose. Ela never missed an opportunity to rib me. I said, "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I know I'd appreciate it." "You're right, you're right," Magda said, taking one last long look at me. "I need to get to work anyway. Esther is a tyrant. You've heard me go on enough about what a nightmare she is. I had to beg to be here now, and I'm working extra shifts tomorrow morning to make up the time. I'm so proud of you though, Serduszko. It's been a hard road, but you made it. I can't wait to tell your mother all about it when she calls." We made the trip back to Williamsburg with the wheel chair folded up, and stuffed in the back with Ela. I'd have been happy leaving it there, or setting it on fire even, but Magda was insistent that we find someone less fortunate that could use it. When we got home, she made Ela and I some lunch, and left us with stern instructions for our day. "Marion, all of your suitcases, and boxes are still packed up in your bedroom, so you'll need to get your room arranged to your liking. Ela, help him break down the bed, and set it back up where it goes. I'm sure you don't need a reminder, but just in case, don't forget to take a shower. I know you both are planning to go out tonight, but just make sure your chores are done before you leave. I'm leaving four dollars for you both to share. That should be enough for a trip to the barber shop, the train fare, dinner, and a little extra in case of an emergency. Ela, stay close to Marion, and if anything happens, don't hesitate to call me. Be back before eleven, or you'll both be grounded. I'm not joking. Eleven. I probably won't see you till tomorrow night at the earliest, but don't break the rules. I'll know. Be good, children," She collected her cap, purse, and gloves, and kissed us on top of the head. "I love you both. Have fun tonight. Ela, be good," After that, she was gone. "Why's she always telling me to be good?" Ela asked, dropping her sandwich back on the plate. Without missing a beat, I replied, "because you're bad." "Yeah, you're right," she said, smirking. "Let's take care of the bed. We've got a lot to do today." "Thanks, but I don't know if I'm going to go out with you guys tonight. I know your mother thinks I should, but your friends aren't really my friends. We can just tell her I went." "We can figure it out later," she said dismissively. "Let's do this now. I want to get it over with." I might have been slightly older, but it was obvious who was in charge. I finished my meal, and placed my plate in the sink. I walked down the narrow hallway past the bathroom. I'd been in the tiny apartment for months at this point, and it was the first time I'd seen that part. The first room on the left was Ela's. It was a good size for a New York City bedroom. She had her walls decorated with collage art she'd made, and several paintings of flowers. Her white framed twin bed was pushed into the back corner, across from her desk, and the floor was covered in various garments. Ela was never the most organized person. The next room on the left was the master bedroom. I peeked in to see the two twin beds our mothers slept in with the little brown night stand between them. Everything had a place, but the room was still packed full, since it was occupied by two women in their late thirties instead of the husband and wife it was intended for. At the end of the hall was my room. All of my things were stacked up in the corner, waiting for me to sort them. It was pretty dusty, but it wasn't a bad room. Sure, I wouldn't have the T.V. at my disposal anymore, but it was worth it to finally have some privacy. I propped the door open, and decided where I wanted my bed to go. Ela and I broke the bed down, and clumsily slid it across the carpeted floors to its new home. After it was reassembled, I fitted it with new sheets, and fell back into it, basking in the pleasure of having a space that was just my own. "Okay, you need to start getting ready now," Ela said, pulling me back to reality. "We've got a lot of work to do, if you're coming out tonight." I sniffed my armpit, and said, "You're right, I need a shower, but I thought we already talked about this. I don't want to go tonight." "But, I need you too!" she shouted, stamping her foot like a child. I sat up, perplexed. "Why do you need me to?" She lowered her eyes and mumbled something I couldn't understand. "I have no idea what you just said." "That's because it's not a group thing. It's a double date." "You set me up on a date, and didn't tell me? Who is it with?" She shrugged. "I don't know. One of Archie's friends." "Of course this is about Archie. That guy is as dumb as a box of hammers." With a lustful expression, she said, "Yeah, but he's got plenty of other qualities to make up for it." I was definitely getting irritated. She was always doing things like that. Ever since we were kids, she would hatch all kinds of plans and schemes, assuming I was along for the ride, though never actually asking. I can count the number of times I was grounded on one hand, and every single one of those involved Ela somehow. "I don't understand though. Why is Archie helping a girl get a date? Is something wrong with her?" She mumbled another inaudible response. It then dawned on me exactly what she was planning. "Absolutely not." "Pleeeease," she begged, with the same pout that usually plowed through my will. This was different though. She was asking a lot more than usual. "No. You can't seriously expect me to go on a date with a boy," I grimaced at the thought. "Please, it's just one time. Do it for me before you chop off all that hair." "No." "Seriously, it's one date. We're going to Manhattan and watching Archie's friend's band play at some coffee shop in the village.. They're taking us to a malt shop first, so you'll get a free meal out of it. You can keep all the extra money Mom left. Do it for me, please. No one will know besides you and me. I mean, you looked so pretty yesterday, and Archie had no idea. Imagine how good you'll look if you actually wore makeup." I did, in fact, start to imagine myself dolled up for a night on the town, but felt ashamed and shoved the thought back out as fast as it came in. "I said no, Ela. That's that." "I haven't been out on a real date since you've been back, you know. I'm not saying it's your fault, but you are the reason. I've spent all my time here with you, taking care of you, and worrying about you, Marion. Have you felt lonely once, since all that stuff happened?" She was right. She had been there for me the entire time, and she didn't have to be. I hung my head off the foot of my bed, and kicked my feet behind me, like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. "I know, Ela, but you're asking a lot. I'm a boy. I don't know the first thing about being a girl on a date. If anybody finds out, that's it for me. I'll never be able to show my face outside again." "I promise, no one will know. I'll be right there with you. I'll give you a crash course in feminine deportment before we leave. It shouldn't be that hard for you to pick up." "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked the question, but I already knew the answer. "Nothing...you're just smart. I'm sure you'll pick up on it quickly. I wouldn't normally ask this, but Archie insisted it be a double date. He made plans with this guy long before yesterday, and he didn't want to cancel on him, but he really wanted to bring me too. He just doesn't want to make that guy a third wheel. Archie assumed you'd be on board, because you've been cooped up for so long. Archie's a gentleman. This guy's probably one too. He's probably a little nerdy even, so he shouldn't get handsy. I need this, Marion. I'll owe you big time." "What could you possibly offer that would square us up?" "Anything. A blank check. You can ask me to do anything anytime and I'll do it, no protest, no questions asked. Please, Marion. By the time I'm finished with you, not a soul would think you're a boy. You do such a good impression of me anyway. Just do that, but scale it back so you're not such a caricature, and no one will be the wiser," She sat on the bed beside me, and started stroking my hair, while I buried my face in my pillow. "Pretty please, with sugar on top." I lifted my head, and turned to face her. She was pouting again, but this time, I could see the smile she'd hidden behind it. She knew she'd already won. "Okay, fine!" I shouted, forcing myself back upright. "You said, a blank check. I'm going to hold you to that." I offered my pinky, and she accepted. With our ritual complete, the contract was effectively signed. "So, what do I have to do?" "Well, first things first, you stink. I know you were looking forward to a shower, but today, we're taking a bath instead," Ela hopped up from my bed, and headed straight for the bathroom, while I trailed behind her. She started running the bathwater, and poured some perfumed liquid in with it. I thought it smelled wonderful at first. When I realized I was going to smell like that in a few minutes, that penetrating shame returned, and I hated myself for enjoying it. "I'm going to get some things together," Ela said, pulling me from my thoughts. "Get in the tub, and close the curtain till I return. I need to bring you some things, and I don't think either of us want me looking at your privates." She left the bathroom, and I stripped down. Before I got in the tub, I caught sight of my reflection in the full length mirror that was on the back of the bathroom door. It wasn't the wasp waist of years past, but my midsection was very small, especially compared to the flesh around it. I took some comfort in the doctor's words earlier, so I wasn't too stressed about it. Still, my body had changed a lot since the previous year. I couldn't help but be concerned. It occurred to me that Ela wouldn't knock, so I hurried into the tub, and pulled the curtain closed behind me. The water was so warm on my feet. From there, I lowered myself slowly, adjusting bit by bit to the temperature change, until right before my privates were about to hit the water. I took a deep breath, and took the plunge. Once I was fully submerged, I layed back into the curve of the tub, and soaked it all in. This was the most pleasant thing I'd experienced in over a year. My bones warmed, and a relaxing sensation took over. When Ela returned, I heard her set some things on the toilet seat. "Wash your face, and your body. You can get your hair wet, but don't wash it. Leave that to me, okay? Once you get out, I've got some things for you to wear on the commode. When you're decent, shout for me, and I'll come help you with everything else." She was already gone before I even had a chance to respond. I was fine with that. I let the warmth of the bath wash over me, and it was the most relaxed I'd been in months. My rear was a little tender pressed into the hard porcelain, but it was worth it. My skin started pruning up, so I quickly washed my face, and my body, then stepped out of the draining tub. On the toilet seat, I found a pair of white satin panties, and a fluffy blue dressing gown. Once I was covered, I called for Ela. She came back down the hallway from her room with her arms loaded. She dropped the mess into the bathroom sink, and fished out her electric shaver. I didn't have much hair on my body, but there was fuzz under my armpits, and my calves. That was gone with a few deft swipes. Next, she found her tweezers, and started in on my eyebrows. The style of the time was thin lines that were highly arched. Some girls kept a more natural look, but apparently, I was not to be one of those girls. Ela had attacked my forehead with a righteous stinging fury. By the time she finished, I had the same delicate arches she did. "We can fill them in with pencil until they grow back," she said, cutting off my protests before I could voice them. After she finished my epilation, we went to the kitchen, where she washed my hair in the sink. Mom had been washing my hair through most of my recovery. She didn't do half the job Ela did though. Ela scrubbed at my greasy locks with her soap, and rinsed. She came back around for another rinse, but this time poured some lemon juice in it. She said it was to make sure all the soap rinsed out. Whatever the reason, I suddenly craved a nice tall glass of lemonade. When she was satisfied, she wrapped my hair in a towel, and sent me back to the bathroom to powder my body to get rid of all the excess moisture. She had me finish off by coating my entire body in lotion, and rubbing it in deep. From there, we went back to the kitchen table, and while listening to records, Ela parted my damp hair on the side, and rolled it up in pin curls. Once finished, she tied a large chiffon hair scarf around the curlers to protect them, and then coated my face in a smelly green mask. I thought I'd finally have five minutes to myself, but I was sorely mistaken. Ela asked me, "Who's your favorite actor?" I answered, "James Dean." "Why?" "Because he's so cool, and talented. He should have won the Oscar for East of Eden. In fact..." "Nope," she interjected, cutting me off. "He's dreamy. Let's try this again. Why is James Dean your favorite actor, Marion?" "Because he's dreamy?" "Are you asking me, or telling me?" "He's dreamy." "Okay, now say it like you mean it, and do it sweetly." I summoned my best Ela impersonation, and imagined myself in James Dean's arms. I plastered a romantic expression on my face, and tried one more time. "Because he's dreamy. He's the dreamiest fella in pictures right now. I'd do anything for a date with that hunk," To be fair he was dreamy. Too bad about the tragedy not far around the corner. If only we'd known. "Wonderful, Marion!" Ela said, praising my efforts. She was clapping her hands together with glee. "Would you like something to drink?" "Sure!" I should have seen the trap coming. "No, that would be lovely. Would you like something to drink, Marion?" "Why yes, Ela. That would be lovely." This went on for about an hour, and then I was allowed to wash my face. The mask had hardened, but with a little water, it came off without a trace, and my skin was as soft as a newborn baby's. I watched T.V. for an hour while Ela took her time in the bathroom. She joined me in the living room, with her hair tucked under a shower cap, and her face covered in the same mud mask I wore earlier. We finished an episode of The Adventures of Robin Hood, and then she returned to the bathroom, to wash off her mask. It was time to get dressed. I stood in Ela's room, in front of her floor mirror, while she had me try on nearly every dress in her closet. She was going on and on about the pros and cons of every outfit. I know she did this kind of thing for herself all the time. Her room had always been a mess, ever since we were kids. The floor was filled with dolls, and jacks when we were little. The only difference between Ela then, and now, is that she's moved on from tea parties, to makeup. Otherwise, she was still the same feisty steamroller, who stopped at nothing to get what she wanted. She was a perfectionist from the day she was born. "What do you think of this outfit?" she asked. "I don't care, really," I replied. Truthfully I liked the dress. It was a forest green, plaid number, nipped at the waist, with the fit and flare silhouette that had been popular since Chritian Dior debuted the New Look. I couldn't let her know that though. My fragile masculinity was at stake. I thought that maybe if I ignored the cracks, the problem would resolve itself. "Whatever you think is best." She said, "Of course," but her expression told a different story. Ela definitely didn't believe me. I don't think she wanted to embarrass me though, so she kept her mouth shut. She just said, "I figured I'd give you a choice. You're the one that's going to wear it after all," She unzipped the dress, and after I slipped out of it, she hung it up on her closet door. "We know what you're wearing now, so I'll be able to get the rest of your outfit together. Are you ready to nip that waist?" "Wait, what?" I had no clue what she was talking about. I'd never had an occasion to learn about women's underthings. I have a memory from when I was very young; the kind that sticks with you until you're old and withered. My father had recently returned from his tour in Japan. One day, my mother was setting her hair while I sat there watching her, enthralled by the ritual. Playfully, she asked if I wanted to try. I silently nodded my head yes, so she took one roller, and wound up my short bangs and pinned it into place. I looked in the mirror, and giggled at my reflection. My mom picked up a lipstick off the vanity, and added a little color to my smile. We looked at each other in the mirror. "You really do favor my side of the family." I didn't really understand gender expression at the time. All I knew was that this one time, I was allowed to do an adult thing. I rushed to the living room to show my father. When he saw my appearance, the man was so livid he crushed his beer can in his hands, spilling the liquid all over the rug. He grabbed me by the back of the neck, and dragged me into the bathroom, and with a bar of soap in hand, he scrubbed my lips raw, screaming, "Boys don't do that!" at me. I swallowed so much soap that I was sick for a few days. When he finished, he grabbed the curler, and ripped it from my head, taking a small patch of hair with it. Done with me, he stormed into my parent's bedroom, and slammed the door behind him. I sat on the floor, crying for what felt like hours, while I heard shouting, and my mother's screams through the bedroom door. After that, we never spoke of it again. I never watched my mother get ready again. I never showed any interest in anything remotely considered feminine in front of my father again. None of that stopped him from regularly calling me a sissy. This was the day I got another look behind the curtain, and what I found was rough. Ela wrapped a waist cincher around my already narrow waist and after looping all the little hooks through all the corresponding hoops, she pulled the laces tight. For a minute, I thought she was trying to cut me in half. Once she had the laces tied off, she slipped a white, satin bullet bra around my chest, and had me slide my arms through the straps. The extra fat pushed up by the waist cincher, tried to fill the undergarment, but still came up short. Ela stuffed the cups with some stockings from her dresser. In the mirror, I could see that I now had a proper hourglass figure. Ela said, "You can admire yourself later, Marion, we've got a lot of ground to cover, and less and less time, the more we procrastinate," I threw on the white, linen full slip that she'd set out of her bed, and followed her to her vanity, where she had me take a seat. "Are you ready for your makeup lesson?" "Can't you just do it?" I asked. I didn't think the feminine education was necessary. "It's just for tonight, right? It'll probably be faster if you just do it." "I'm sure it would, but you need to learn." She wrapped a towel around my shoulders, and used a hair clip to fasten it behind my neck. "We're going to be out for several hours. Things happen. You eat. You smoke. You neck with some cute boy. Things happen, Marion. You'll have to repair it eventually, and I seriously doubt you'll want to find yourself in the ladies room, looking like it's your first time there. "I'm not going to be necking with anybody, Ela, let alone a cute boy. I do see your point though. I guess I'm ready to learn, teach." "Thank you. We're going to keep it simple. You're more of a Grace Kelly than a Jayne Mansfield anyway. First things first. Pick up that little box of powder foundation. There's a powder puff inside. Use that, and coat your entire face and neck," I did as instructed. The process was simple enough, but I did learn that if you open your peepers at the wrong time, it can be quite painful. After I wiped away the tears from the burning eyes, we waited a moment for everything to calm down, and then returned to the task at hand. "Now, use that brown pencil, and start filling in your eyebrows." Deadpan, I asked, "You spent all that time ripping out my eyebrows, and you want me to draw them back in?" "Yes, dummy. This time they're going to have some shape. When you draw them in, use small strokes, always in the direction the hair grows," I followed her instructions, this time without any painful incident. "Excellent, Marion! Perfect arches! Now, use that same pencil, and trace the line of your upper eyelid." This was harder than I expected. Any time I got anywhere close to my eye with the pencil, the lid would start reflexively blinking at rapid speeds. I dropped the pencil in frustration, and shrugged at Ela. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. She picked the pencil back up, and handed it to me. "Almost every girl has to deal with this when she gets started. I want you to hold that pencil as close as you can to your eye, and don't move it. Just wait until you become acclimated and then try," It worked. A few short minutes later, I had a fine line drawn at the base of both sets of eyelashes. She had me repeat the same exercise with the eyelash curler. Those things look scary, but once I'd done it, I wasn't sure what had spooked me in the first place. It was incredibly easy. Much easier than the eyeliner, that's for sure. Mascara came next. I learned that the style was for girls our age to only wear top lash mascara, so that made it much easier for me. Through trial and error, I found a method that worked for me. I simply held the brush still, and then blinked my lashes through the bristles. The rest was downhill from there. A little bit of blush was brushed onto the apples of my cheeks, and blended back towards my ears. A final dusting of powder, and a neutral, pink lipstick finished off the look. It wasn't perfect, but I'd certainly done a better job than a lot of girls in my grade would have. "Not bad, if I do say so myself," I boasted. "Yeah, you did great. Now, use that cold cream, go to the bathroom, and wash it all off." Ela didn't look the slightest bit impressed. "You're joking, right?" I cried, throwing my hands in the air. I just spent an hour doing all this, and you want me to take it off. Why?" "Because you spent an hour doing it sweetheart. That would have taken me ten minutes. Take it off, and do it again, but this time try not to ask for help. I'll be right beside you doing my own makeup if you have any questions, but you should try to do it on your own first." I did as instructed, and greatly improved my time and the quality on the second go. It still took me about ten minutes longer than Ela, but she deemed it acceptable, so we moved on. She painted my nails to match my lips, but this time, did her own as well. I don't blame her. I wouldn't want smudged nail polish on a first date, either. Ela dug into her closet, and came back with gauzy, pink crinoline. I stepped into it through the waistband, and started to fit it around my waist, only to be told that it wasn't correct, so I took it off, and tried again. This time, I pulled it over my head, like a sweater, and slipped it down to my waist, over the skirt of my slip. The dress followed, and Ela helped me zip it up in the back. She wrapped a black, cinch belt around my waist, and fastened the golden buckle at the front, just beneath my false bosom. She dropped a pair of black ballet flats at my feet, and then much to my surprise, also dropped her robe. We saw each other naked all the time when we were children, but things were different now. Two things to be specific. I threw my hand over my eyes, and asked, "Did you want me to leave the room?" "Why?" she nonchalantly responded. "It's just us girls here." "I wish you wouldn't say that." "Get used to it. You're a girl tonight, Marion. It's time to start getting into character," I still averted my gaze until I heard the zip of her dress. Afterwards, she sat me down at the vanity, and started removing the hair scarf, and the dozens of bobby pins from my, now dry, hair. She pulled it tight in the back, the same as the day before, and tied it off with an elastic, but this time, she left the front curling down over my forehead. Ela started fishing through a drawer, and pulled out a pair of shears. "What are you doing with those?" I asked, afraid of the response. "I'm going to cut your bangs. It's the style with ponytails like those now." "Okay...but what am I supposed to do when this is all over?" "You've got to get a haircut anyway. Before you go to the barber shop, I'll chop off a bunch more, and you can blame the look on your friend talking you into it." I couldn't argue with her logic, but I still felt uneasy, while she sat there, snipping away. She finished, and then clipped the hairpiece over my own little nub, leaving it to curl smoothly down my back. She tied off the base with a black, felt ribbon, and started working on her own style. She pinned her blonde hair back on both sides, and let her page boy fall neatly behind her, curling under, while the front of her hair was swept to the side. She stood, and we both headed to the floor mirror, to assess the full look. Ela was beautiful as always. She wore tasteful age appropriate makeup, similar to mine. Her dress was quite classy, made of a pink linen. It fit tightly, but not too tight comprised of a knee-length, straight skirt, a wide, white, scalloped, bertha collar with matching cuffs on the short sleeves, and three buttons up the center of the bodice, with a large decorative flat bow right in the opening of the collar. She stepped into a pair of white, round-toed, low heeled dress shoes, and clipped a pair of pearl button earrings onto her lobes. She looked stunning. I was surprised to find that I was equally as attractive. The makeup did a lot to feminize my face, and combined with everything else, I made quite the pretty picture. The black stripes in the plaid were the same as the black flats, belt, and hairbow I wore, It had cap sleeves and a little, white, peter pan collar. Sure, it was quite girlish, but I could take it off whenever I wanted to. The hair on the other hand, was a different story. The ponytail looked as clean and smooth as it had the previous day, but this time, in the front, there were short bangs, curled neatly, resting half an inch above my eyebrows. She clipped a white, bead bracelet around my wrist, and proclaimed my outfit complete. We had about an hour left till the boys were supposed to arrive, so rather than standing around panicking, Ela had me practice smoothing my skirt and crinoline underneath when I sat. She thought my walk was too wide legged, so she drilled me in that next. Walking with my knees together was hard, but I needed to build those muscles back up anyway, so it was good exercise as far as I was concerned. It was difficult holding myself upright, and walking that way, and I found myself swinging my hips side to side, and my rear behind me. I remember hoping my date wouldn't think I was fast because of it. Ela lectured about etiquette, and the proper behavior expected of a lady out on the town. Chiefly, I was going to have to fight the urge to stand when a woman arrived, or left. After a short quiz, Ela was satisfied I could handle myself, and any unwanted advances. I even knew how to get into, and out of a car, should we find ourselves in need of a taxi. I collected a black purse that Ela prepared for me, and spent the remainder of the time, sitting on the sofa, clutching the straps tightly while my anxiety grew. A short while later, I was snapped out of my trance by a firm knock at our door. Ela placed her hand on my shoulder to steady me. She asked, "Are you ready?" I nodded my head. We took a deep breath together, and she swung open the door. On the other side, there were two, gangly boys in slightly baggy suits. They put about as much effort into their appearance as any boy would at the time, but there was still a clumsiness about them, like teenagers usually have; ready to be an adult, but not quite there. "You girls look beautiful this evening," Archie said, shoving a handful of daffodils towards Ela. Gracefully, Ela said, "Why, thank you Archie." She gave them a dainty sniff, and smiled pleasantly. The red haired boy practically melted when she smiled at him. His buddy jabbed an elbow into his side, reminding him there were two other people in the room. "Oh, right!" Archie turned his attention to me, for what was probably the first time. "Marion, this is Andy Barclay. Andy, this is Marion uhh..." Andy offered me an equally disheveled bouquet. "These are for you," he said, a giant smile plastered across his face. "My friend has insulted you, by not taking the time to learn your last name, and for that I apologize," Could he have been any more of a cornball? He thought he was slick, and I'd melt in his arms then and there, I'm sure. In reality, he was about as suave as Jerry Lewis. Don't get me wrong, he was very attractive, but he didn't yet have the experience to back it up, and it was obvious. I was just happy he didn't shout, "Boy!" and then punch me right in the face. I politely took the flowers from him, and shyly whispered, "Thank you," Everyone was silent, expecting me to say anything else, but I was frozen in place. Ela came to my rescue. She took the flowers, and said, "Let's get these into some water, Marion, and then we can go. Her name is Marion Ryan by the way, Andy. You'll have to forgive her. It's her first date, and she's a little nervous." In total disbelief, Andy replied, "Your first date? I don't believe it...a girl as pretty as you. There's just no way." I realized I should probably say anything, so I went with a version of the truth. "Yeah, uh, I was very sick for a little while, so I've been stuck in bed for about a year. Tonight's my first night out actually." He took my hand and kissed it gently. "Then I shall endeavor to make it the best possible." I would've thought I'd throw up right then and there, but I actually found it kind of cute, much the same way a child trying to impress you by doing a cartwheel is cute. Whatever the case, it was certainly disarming. I instantly relaxed. Ela returned from the kitchen, and grabbed her purse. We left the apartment, and made our way to the train station, so we could catch the Brighton Beach Line into Manhattan, and start our Journey to the East Village. We made it to the platform in the knick of time. The train arrived just as we reached the bottom of the stairs, and we only had to wait a moment, just for the doors to open. When I felt Andy place his hand on the small of my back to guide me into the car, my first instinct was to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. Fortunately, I remembered my appearance, and realized he was just being gentlemanly. We found four seats facing each other, and sat in an uncomfortable silence for the entire journey. Two transfers later, and we'd arrived at our destination. At the time, the East Village was a hotbed for the growing counterculture of New York City. I'd never seen so many turtlenecks and goatees in my life. I couldn't believe it. Adult women were out on the town at night, unescorted by a man. "What's that smell?" I asked, as we walked past a coffee shop where several college students were smoking outside. Andy, and Archie found this question very amusing. "That's Yankee Doodle," they said, giggling like children. Several years later, I found out what that meant, when the hippies popularized marijuana, but at the time I was woefully ignorant. A few blocks down the road, we stopped in a cute malt shop for dinner, and dessert. We took our seats at the bar, where the mirror along the back wall fortunately kept me aware of my presentation, and the expected behavior that went along with it. Less fortunate though were the boys sitting between us. There wasn't a good way for me to use Ela as a security blanket so I was on my own with my date. An older gentleman dressed entirely in white, wearing a paper cap took our orders. Remembering my crash course, I let my date order for me. We both had cheeseburgers and fries, which, though delicious, I couldn't finish due to the restricting cinch wrapped around my midsection. Archie and Ela were having no problems finding things to talk about. He'd drone on and on about working for his parents, and she'd listen intently, never breaking eye contact. She'd ask the right questions, and giggle at the right time. It might have been her first date in a year, but she was definitely an expert. Archie was putty in her hands. My date, on the other hand, wasn't going quite as well. Andy, unlike most boys at the time, asked me what I was interested in. It was admirable, sure, but I didn't know how to answer any of his questions. I was supposed to be an average teenage girl. I didn't think I could say I liked science fiction, and baseball, so I responded with dispassionate one word answers like, makeup, and sewing. Bless him though, because he was undeterred. He'd ask a follow-up question and I would parrot something I'd heard Ela say before. In hindsight, I think Andy knew I wasn't being myself. That's probably why he kept grilling me. "What do you want to do when you finish school?" he asked, much to my surprise. I thought hard about what the typical girlish response would be. After a moment of hesitation, I said, "A mother of course. Secretarial school possibly, as a stepping stone, but ultimately, I want to raise a family." "That's bull, Marion." A french fry almost fell out of my mouth. "I'm sorry..." He seemed to realize his bluntness. Blushing, he elaborated. "Forgive me. I can be curt sometimes. I just mean, you don't strike me as the type. There's obviously more going on in your noggin than making babies. You can tell me the truth. What do you really want to do?" It was the first time anyone had ever asked me that question. As far back as I can remember, it was always assumed that I'd be working for Mr Albertson, just like my father and brother. That probably wasn't an option any more, regardless, but I never really wanted that life in the first place. I knew the honest answer, so I decided to just go for it. "I want to be a librarian. I know it's not particularly glamorous but I love books. If I could spend the rest of my life working with them in some capacity, That would be a life well spent." "There must be something in books, things we can't imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don't stay for nothing," You could have knocked me over with a feather. "Are you quoting Fahrenheit 451? I just read that for the thousandth time last month. You're a Bradbury fan, I take it?" I had been playing a role up to this point, but this is where we crossed a threshold. This boy genuinely had my interest. "I came for the science fiction, but I stayed for the social commentary. Have you read Player Piano yet, by chance?" "I haven't had the occasion. Do you recommend it?" "I do. Personally, I'm for the advancement of technology. The story isn't necessarily against it either, but it brings up several good points about not losing respect for the human element of our society as it progresses." Good Lord, he actually had a brain. I guess I'd been expecting someone as sharp as a bowling ball, given that he was Archie's best friend. It was certainly a lesson in prejudice. I was so enraptured by our conversation that I didn't notice he ordered one milkshake when the counter worker came to collect our plates. I thought about saying something when the dessert arrived containing two straws, but decided against it. This boy was awkward, but quite fascinating, and surprisingly eloquent. In spite of myself, I could have listened to Andy wax poetic for days. Plus, I was too old to be afraid of cooties, so I kept my mouth shut, and took a sip of the milkshake, never breaking eye contact. After we finished our meal, the boys paid the tab, and we headed to a little coffee shop down the steps off the sidewalk. It was certainly dark, and musty. There was a cloud of cigarette smoke permeating the place, as was common at the time, and the wallpaper was peeling, but I found it charming. We found seats towards the stage, where I had my first encounter with an actual chair. It shouldn't have been so difficult, but Andy and I kept reaching for it at the same time, then apologizing in sync. A subtle kick to the shin from Ela helped me realize I just needed to stand there, and let him be a gentleman. It also hurt, so I took my seat while shooting her a dirty look. The boys saw their friends standing in the corner with their instrument cases, so they went to say hello, leaving Ela and I to speak freely for a moment. With a smirk, Ela said, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." "We finally found something to talk about," I shot back, furrowing my brow. "I thought we were both going to die from the sheer awkwardness of it all, but he's actually very intelligent. I almost feel bad about tricking him like this." "You're not tricking him. I snuck a listen to your conversation, and you were just being yourself. Maybe with a different coat of paint yes, but from what I heard, all those thoughts and opinions were yours." "It is surprising how long I've been able to keep up this girly voice." "What girly voice would that be?" She looked at me incredulously. "That's your voice. You're using a select few different phrases from normal, but that's it really. You've never been one to MOY-DUR the English language with that thick Brooklyn accent your brother has. Whatever the case, I'm just glad you're having a good time. I really appreciate you doing this for me. A couple more hours, and you're free" Just then, the boys returned. "They're going on a little later than they told us," Archie said, while trying to flag down the waitress. Andy explained, "Apparently, the show's running a little long. It shouldn't be too much longer, though," The waitress made her way to our table, where the boys ordered beers for themselves. Ela, and I ordered coffee. We'd spend the remainder of the night watching various acts go on stage, with polite conversation between. I slogged through comedian after poet after folk music act, bored out of my mind, while Archie and Andy intermittently babbled about model airplanes. Ela was an old pro when it came to entertaining the interest of the men. I was not. I might have started pert and attentive, but the night had already gone on longer than I had hoped, and my boredom was obvious to anyone with two eyes and a brain. This might not have included Archie, but Andy was acutely aware, and desperate to save the date. "You know, Archie, the girls have listened to us go on about planes enough. Perhaps we should change the subject." Archie didn't miss a beat. He seemed to just be excited to have someone to talk to about anything. "What about tomorrow? We're going to the Dodgers game. That's interesting right?" Andy started, "I'm not sure the ladies would..." but I quickly cut him off. "You're going to the Dodgers game tomorrow night. That's amazing! I haven't been to a game since forever!" Archie replied, "Yeah, Mr Moneybags here's dad gets the lower deck box seats behind home plate on Saturdays sometimes. It's pretty swell." "I'm so jealous!" I nearly shouted, attracting attention from a few nearby tables. "You know, you can come if you want to," Andy said, putting his hand on mine. "I'd love to!" I outright shouted this time. Ela asked, "Didn't you have something going on tomorrow, Marion?" "Nothing, why?" I responded, only to feel a swift kick to my shin beneath the table. It was only then that it occurred to me exactly what I'd agreed to. "I just thought I remembered you telling me you had to take care of something important." I froze for a moment, and thought hard about my next few decisions. Any red blooded American boy should have wanted out of this getup as quickly as possible, but with the promise of watching the game from behind home plate at Ebbets Field, another day in skirts didn't sound so bad. "Not that I can recall, Ela. Baseball tomorrow does sound swell, Archie. I'd love to come, if it's okay with Andy of course." The glee was plastered on Andy's face, but he tried to play it cool. "You're not the type of girl I'd peg for a baseball fan." "Everyone in my family is. My brother actually plays in the minors down south. I listened to or watched every single Dodgers game when I was stuck in bed. I wouldn't miss one for the world." "Alright then! My dad, my brother Jimmy, and I play in our church league at the park near our place in Flatbush on Saturday mornings. Jimmy brings his girlfriend, and I usually bring Archie. We're spending the day together and finishing the afternoon at the game. You could meet us there tomorrow, if you'd like." "Thanks Andy!" I squealed, leaning over the table and wrapping my arms around his neck. "How about you, Ela?" Archie asked, probably hoping for an equal level of enthusiasm. She replied, "Sure, Archie. That would be neat." Ela didn't really care about baseball, but she did care about me, and she definitely wanted to keep an eye on me. It probably didn't hurt that she wanted a second date with Archie also. I caught a look in her eye that said, "What are you doing?" but I chose to ignore it. Mercifully, the band we'd made this journey to see in the first place finally took to the stage. They weren't terrible, but in my opinion, if you've seen one coffee shop folk trio, you've seen them all, and I had already seen three perform that night. Still, I clapped politely. When they exited the stage, I noticed the time on the clock hanging on the wall. "We really need to get going, Ela," I said, trying to play it cool, but freaking out on the inside. It was twenty minutes till our curfew, and we were still hours from our beds. Ela, realizing the same thing, stood from her chair suddenly, causing the boys to shoot up after her. "Archie, we need to get going. My mother might very well kill us, and then neither of us will make it to the game tomorrow, let alone another date." The boys tossed a few bills on the table, and after collecting our purses, we rushed out and hurried to the subway station. On the ride back, Ela rested her head on Archie's shoulder, while clutching his arm. Andy placed his hand on mine, and strangely, I let him. It wasn't hurting anything, and it obviously made him happy. Two transfers later, and we were back in Brooklyn. We arrived at our building, where the boys tried to see us to the door, but Ela and I convinced them otherwise, more for their safety than for ours. I prayed with every step up the stairs. If Magda was waiting for us in the living room for some reason, then we'd have a lot more to explain than why we were late. Fortunately, nobody was there. We removed our shoes, and tiptoed to our rooms. Just as I passed our parent's room, I saw the light come on under her door. We both hurried to our beds, where I threw the shoes under, and jumped in, pulling the covers up over my head. I heard the door open behind me, and then close. After I heard the same from Ela's room, and then, much to my relief, I heard Magda's door close. I must have been holding my breath the entire time, because when the light switched back off, I exhaled with relief. It felt like we'd reached a finish line of some kind, but in reality, my adventure was just getting started.