The Explaination

"I can explain..."

Noah wondered how he could explain any of what had happened to him over the last few hours, where to even start? The Salon, the Prom, the...kiss. He looked at his mom, who was studying him, almost appraisingly. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she decided to just take a sip of her tea and place the mug down on a side table. She tightened her robe around her pajamas and sat down on the sofa, gesturing for Noah to sit next to her.

Noah was still trying to figure out what to say as he walked barefoot to the couch. The feeling of finally being out of the heels was nice and painful in equal measure, muscles sore and skin chafed. He sat next to his mother, embarrassment swirling in him, shaking lightly as he fought the skirts of his red dress. He placed his hand in his lap, still holding the shoes and tiara.

"There was an accident at the salon," he said, gesturing vaguely at his dress.

His mother pursed her lips, looking at the heels in his lap, "That is some accident."

Reminded that he was still holding them, he put the shoes on the floor along with the tiara, "I went in for a haircut, but the machines malfunctioned because of a power outage, and… they did this to me."

She tilted her head, “So, a machine dressed you up like this? And you just… went with it?”

He put a hand to his head, "It's not like that, things got out of hand. When Jacob showed up-"

His mom interrupted, "Your friend, Jacob?"

Noah felt his cheeks heating up, “We both signed up for this mystery date program at the salon, but those damn things did this to me, Jacob thought I was his date. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You went to prom as a girl with Jacob as your date?” she asked, trying to process what she was hearing.

"I swear, it wasn't on purpose!" Noah felt sick trying to explain the insanity.

Noah's mom's face softened, "Hey, I believe you."

"You do?" Noah was surprised to hear that.

"It's been a long night, and I'm sure you could use some sleep, why don't you head upstairs and get cleaned up? We can talk more about it later," she said gently.

Grateful to have an exit from the conversation, he grabbed the tiara, "I'd rather just pretend it never happened."

Noah quickly dashed for the stairs with the tiara in hand, leaving his mother behind to sip her tea. Once Noah was gone, she leaned over and picked up one of the high heels left behind. She rested her head on her free hand and looked at the shoes her son had been wearing all night. After contemplating his story a bit longer, she got up and placed them on the shoe rack by the door.

Noah reached the top of the stairs, his bare feet burning and cold against the hardwood floor and the tiara tight in his grip. He slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.

“I can’t believe I made it through that,” he muttered to himself, setting the tiara on the counter.

He fumbled with the dress's zipper long enough to contemplate asking his mom for help but luckily, he eventually got it. The red fabric slid off his shoulders and plopped at his feet. Stepping out of it, he kicked it gently to the side, feeling lighter already. The corset, though, was a battle. Its laces had been pulled tight all night, and his ribs ached as he loosened them until he could finally slip free. He took a deep breath, savoring the relief, though he frowned to see the false chest on full display. He poked at the edges of the prosthetics, searching for a seam, but they were glued on tight. “Great,” he groaned, too drained to deal with it right at that moment. Instead, he finished undressing and then jumped into the shower to wash the night away, or do his best to at least.

After cleaning off as much makeup as he could, he reluctantly wrapped a towel around his new chest and gathered the castoff dress. Carrying the tiara, Noah shuffled to his room and shut the door. He went to toss the plastic thing into his wastebasket but paused. The cheers of his classmates echoed in his mind, along with Jacob’s grin as they danced. He set the tiara on his desk beside his computer. He couldn’t do it, at least just not yet.

Instead, he climbed under the covers and stared at the ceiling. The house was silent, his mom likely still downstairs, processing everything he’d dumped on her.