I Wear Boys Underwear

Chapter Five: She's a Lady... Err, Dude

Chapter Five: She’s a Lady… Err, Dude

“She’s a Lady,

And Ladies shouldn’t be messed with.”

-She’s a Lady, Forever the Sickest Kids,

Today was the day I like to refer to as D-day. Dude day. After everything that happened on the last day of school my perspective on the whole situation changed.  I went from dreading my mother’s wrath to actually feeling excited about the camp. I mean not only do I get to do something I love, but I get to run my awesomeness in my exes face? Definitely my cup of tea. However, after waiting it out Thursday night and all day Friday I think I have finally psyched myself out because suddenly I feel like I am going to be sick. I literally think that I am going to toss my cookies, I swear. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

 After school ended the girls went into operation make-Austin-look-more-like-a-guy. It was all fun and laughs at first. I tried on various mustaches and wigs that were supplied by my, ever so supportive, mother. She came into the house that afternoon with, practically, the whole salon in a bucket. Of course after about two hours of making fools out of ourselves-including my mother- we decided to go without the facial hair in case it fell off during practices or games. Then we bought medical wrap at my favorite place in the entire world, H-E-B. Henry E. Butt (Seriously that’s the dude’s name or so I am told)!

 The only problem that came up in our grand adventure was the fact that I was a mere 5’4, whereas most boys my age were well over 5’9. My mom reassured me that that was no problem seeing as most Hispanic men were short, and I was most definitely not the exception. Of course upon mentioning this little snag in the road Drew thought it would be funny to brag about her 5’8 glory. Yeah, I really hate her.

 So after smoothing out the big things, details being perfect, we went on with refining my manly behavior. I learned how to walk like a guy, eat like a guy and, my favorite, sound like a guy. Nikki took it upon her shoulders to make me into the best boy a girl could be.

 “Okay, you need to sound like you are grunting!” she demonstrated as she clenched her teeth. Icouldn’t help but laugh in her face. She didn’t really sound much like a guy she just sounded angry or constipated.

 “Ha-ha you sound constipated!” I told her while clutching my stomach from too much laughter.

 She glared at me, “I am trying my best. Just deepen your voice a tad bit.”

“That’s easier said than done Nik!” I complained while rolling my eyes.

“Just do it,” She said through clenched teeth. I did as she said and within a couple of highly amusing hours we were able to make me sound as boyish as any girl could without sounding constipated.

The bus would take me to the MacArthur camp outside the San Antonio city limits on their coaches personal ranch turned football training facility. I stood in the parking lot with my friends and mom waiting for the advisor to call us over to load up the bus. I was wearing a wig that barely came over my eyes. It was shorter than my natural hair and was an auburn color instead of my natural chocolaty brown short locks. Luckily it was one of those wigs that were practically supper glued to your head so there was no problem in it falling off during practices or coming off when I took off my helmet.

 I was sporting dark loose fit low slung jeans, with a teeny peek of my new navy boxers, and a purple Nike t-shirt that would have been a size too big if not for the mounds of wrap that made me look like I had no boobs. Nikki had tried to talk me into putting a stuffed sock inside my boxers to make it look more convincing, but after a good smack to her head she stopped suggesting it.