Panicking, Cameron scrambled to get the skirt off as footsteps started up the stairs...
"Cameron?" called his mom, Helen.
His heart stopped. Panic surged through him. In his scramble to get the skirt off, the waistband twisted and snagged on his shirt. He tugged at it frantically, trying to shimmy it down, but in his rush, he stumbled backward into his desk chair, knocking it over with a loud crash.
"Cam? Are you okay?" Helen's voice was getting closer—much closer.
He nearly had the skirt halfway down when the door swung open.
"Cam, I—" Helen froze in the doorway.
Time stopped.
Cam stood dead center in his room, tangled in a skirt that clung awkwardly around his thighs, jeans still in a pile on the floor, face pale with shock and panic. The pleated red-and-black plaid fabric was unmistakable.
Helen blinked. Then blinked again.
Cam opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Uh," he tried, his voice cracking, "this... isn't what it looks like."
Helen stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her expression wasn’t angry, but puzzled. Surprised. Maybe... sympathetic?
"Cameron," she said gently, eyes flicking down to the skirt, then back up to his bright red face, "sweetie, what is this, then?"
Cam winced. "I found it in the laundry. It’s not mine—I was just—curious. I guess."
Helen’s brows raised slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.
"It looked like it might be Anna’s," Cam mumbled. "I don’t know. I was just... trying it on."
There was a long pause.
Then Helen smiled faintly and walked over to him.
"Okay," she said simply.
Cam blinked. "Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay," she repeated. "You’re fifteen. You’re allowed to be curious. You don’t need to be ashamed of that."
Cam looked away, still burning with embarrassment. "Please don’t tell anyone."
"Of course not," she assured him. "But..." Her eyes softened. "Maybe we can talk about it a little more? If you’re curious, I mean. If you want to try more things, maybe I could help."
Cam's head snapped up. "Help?"
Helen nodded. "I’ve raised three kids, Cam. Clothes don’t define you. If this is something you want to explore, I’d rather you do it with support than hiding it in fear."
Cam opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wasn’t sure what to say. But the initial fear was fading. Slowly, a tentative curiosity crept back in.
"I... maybe? I don’t know. I just thought it looked kind of cool."
Helen smiled warmly. "Then how about we see what else might look cool? Later, when you're ready. No pressure."
Cam gave a nervous nod. "Okay."
"Okay," she said again, squeezing his shoulder. "Lunch is still on offer, but after that... if you want, we can look through some old stuff I’ve kept boxed away. Maybe even Anna’s donation pile."
Cam felt himself smile—just a little. "Yeah... maybe."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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