Disguises

I take off my heels and run after my younger sister. We're both screaming and racing to the computer. I absolutely had to get there first, and since I am male, even though I don't act like it, I'm able to push past my sister and take a seat in front of the computer. My sister squeals, upset at me. "You're such a bitch," She says, crossing her arms tight across her chest.

"I'll be fast, Casey," I giggle, "I just need to check a few things."

"It's that boy again, isn't it?"

It always has been. I've always felt like this when it comes to Grey. Even before he knew who I was, I felt like this. I felt that... click. It would never work, though. He's that huge football lover, and I'm that boy that girls go to because they need a gay, girlie friend. Since I dress like a girl, all the girls that are my friends ask me about fashion: Mostly clothes, shoes, and make up.

Grey... He's just so cute. He's slender and fit, and I'm not saying fit as in attractive even though he is attractive. He's fit as in muscular. I wish I could actually hang out with him in person, but our social groups just never really mix. It still surprises me that he even added me on Facebook.

Speaking of Facebook, I log on, and I check my notifications. There are a bunch of comments on a few of my posts, mostly from girls from school or guys I've never met. They think I'm a girl, I'm sure of it, since they all post flirtatious things on my wall, yet their profiles all say they're interested in girls. I won't say a thing to them, unless they're unattractive. Wink, wink...

I go to my messages, and I squeal. Greyson Woods sent me a message.

My muscles are so sore from football practice.I'll make your muscles sore. I shake my head from thinking dirty, and reply Aw, you poor baby instead. I reply to other messages, but each time it says Greyson Woods sent me a message, he takes priority. I feel like a stalker sometimes, but I can't help it. I have a crush on him, and he's actually talking to me. It almost means the world to know that. The butterflies just never leave me alone, when I see or talk to him.

I sigh, as my sister continues to nag me about the computer, and I type a message to Greyson, telling him that I'd call him. I log off, and Casey immediately pushes me out of the seat in front of the computer. "Thanks, Matvey."

I groan and pick myself up from the floor. After I smooth my skirt down, I dig through my jacket's pockets searching for my old phone. It wasn't anything special, but it let me do what I wanted. I go through the contacts, and I hit send when Greyson's number was highlighted.

It barely rings before I hear his voice, and I smile, "Hey."

"What are you up to?" He asks. I can only imagine what he must be doing. He's probably talking to other friends online, and I'm just bothering him by calling.

I walk into my bedroom and fall onto my bed. I reply, "I'm just being lazy. I have yet to actually think about getting ready for tonight."

"What's tonight?"

"Tyler, Macy, Pat, Rad, and I are all going out. I think we're going to the movies or something at the mall." I say. Tyler was the one who invited me.

I hear his sigh. "You always have such fun plans."

We continue our phone call, using up all my prepaid minutes, and eventually the phone call is cut off. I groan, as I didn't even have time to say goodbye, and I slowly climb off my bed. I dig through my closet, searching for something to wear for tonight. I know it's weird to come home from school and change outfits to go out, but I like to feel good and wearing different things during the day help. I pull off my current skirt and top, and I fix the padding that I use to fill my bra. Honestly, they're terribly uncomfortable things-- bras that is-- but I don't feel comfortable leaving the house in a dress, looking flat chested. I feel like I almost need some up top.

I pull on thigh-high tights and slip into a different skirt. I close the closet, and I dug through my dresser for a top to go well with the skirt, and almost immediately I find one. It's white, thin, and low cut, but I love it. It makes my skin look flawless, and I attract more attention than I usually do.

I stroll downstairs, telling my mother that I'm going out with Tyler. She is excited about that because she loves Tyler. She shews me off, telling me that I shouldn't keep him waiting, and I giggle. I slide into my gray heels that match my skirt, I grab a sweater, and I leave the house just as Tyler pulls up in his small car. I climb in, and we greet each other happily. Tyler's smile never leaves the whole car ride.

Hell, his smile never left the whole night, when I let my hand take his during the movie.