High-Tops to High Heels: Part 8

For a week, it looked like Bobby Vickerson’s social standing might actually be on the mend. It was clear that getting out from under his blackmailer had lifted a massive weight from his shoulders, and Kimberly saw sparks of Bobby’s old confidence returning here and there, just in the way he held his head or the way he guffawed at a YouTube prank video on his phone. He was more at ease than he had been in ages, and people noticed.

It even extended onto the basketball court: when Jefferson High played against Portman Polytechnic that Thursday, Bobby, despite coming off the bench, shot lights out. He was getting tossed around on the defensive end, and definitely ran a little different than he used to, but his shooting streak was so hot that the coach kept him in. The opposing fans were chanting “Barbie sucks” at him, and a few cheap blonde wigs were in the crowd, but ever since Bobby had lost his starting position, the jeering had tailed off.

By the end of the night, Jefferson High’s former star point guard was actually getting his old “We Love Bobby” cheer from the crowd, tallying 25 points and sealing the victory with a vintage Bobby Vickerson three-ball. Kimberly could see his teammates looking at him with rediscovered respect, and even caught Ally looking a little wistful as he jogged past the cheerleaders -- it made her blood boil, but it was all going to be rectified soon.

Jefferson High was playing again on Saturday, with their next opponent being none other than the Saint Ceylan’s Sprites. Since Bobby had just put on a heck of a performance the previous night, the Tomcats’ coach agreed to reinsert him into the starting line-up for their big rivalry game. Kimberly heard the news from Beverly, not from Bobby, who hadn’t bothered to message her for the past week now that his blackmail problem was solved.

Saturday night was a home game, played in Jefferson High’s gymnasium to a large crowd -- the cross-town rivalry always brought out plenty of fans, though neither of Bobby’s parents were in the bleachers. Idly waving her pom-poms as she watched the team warm up, Kimberly couldn’t help but think she had entered some kind of time warp and gone back exactly eight weeks. Bobby was confidently swishing shot after shot, and was even joking around with DeShawn. With his blossoming curves hidden under a compression shirt, baggy shorts, and oversized jersey, if she squinted he looked exactly like the old Bobby Vickerson.

On the other side of the court, where the Sprites were getting warmed up, she could see Josh Delacroix doing his best to not so much as glance over at the opposition. He was working on his free-throws instead, sinking one after another with a look of pure focus on his face. Preparing for this particular game had involved a lot more work than usual, very little of it basketball-related, but the dominos were all in place now, ready to fall. Kimberly just hoped they fell the right way.

As the Tomcats ran back to the locker room for their final huddle, she caught her ex’s eye. “Hey, good luck,” she said. “Really. No matter what, I’ll be right here cheering if you need help.”

“No need, Kimmy,” Bobby said, with all the cocky arrogance of eight weeks ago. “I don’t miss. How about we celebrate after the game? You know, the blowjob you keep mentioning?” He winked at the other cheerleaders. “Keep shaking those asses, ladies.”

Kimberly felt her face grow hot as Bobby swaggered past -- anger, not embarrassment, but it still meant that he could still get under her skin. It was incredibly, really. With the blackmailer gone, all it took was one good game, 25 points on the Jumbotron screen, to make Bobby insufferable again. Her ex disappeared into the locker room, and Beverly, shaking her pom-poms, turned to Kimberly with a skeptical look.

“Guess who’s back to being an asshole,” she said. “You know, he’d deserve it if -- ”

“If he had to grow big boobs and wear stiletto heels for the rest of his life,” Kimberly mumbled furiously to herself. “Yep. Yep. Agreed.”

“Huh?” Beverly frowned. “I was going to say if Josh Delacroix shuts him down tonight. Why do you always have to make things weird, Kimberly?”

Kimberly winced. “Uh, just kidding?” she offered, giving a weak wave of the pom-poms. “Go Tomcats!”

When the home team stormed back onto the court a few minutes later for tip-off, Kimberly saw the conspicuous absence she had been hoping for. Despite his re-insertion into the starting line-up, despite the fact that he was playing against his hated rival Josh Delacroix, Bobby Vickerson was nowhere to be seen. Five seconds later, Kimberly’s phone buzzed with a new message from her ex.

Meet me in the teachers’ bathroom NOW, it read. This is an EMERGENCY!!!

Tossing her pom-poms to the floor, Kimberly took off without so much as a goodbye to her fellow cheerleaders. Her heart was racing as she hurried down the hallway to the teachers’ bathroom, the only one with a lock on the inside. She rapped her knuckles against the door. The first domino had just tipped over.

“It’s me!” she hissed. “Open up!”

Her ex yanked the door open, pulled her inside, and slammed it shut once again. He was still wearing his Tomcats jersey and shorts, but the look of absolute panic on his face made it clear he was in no way ready to play a basketball game. Kimberly’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large black garbage bag sitting on the tiled floor, mostly because she could see a small plush teddy bear poking out of the top.

“The creep is back,” Bobby groaned, shoving his phone at her. “Shit! Shit, Kimmy, I’m in trouble! Look what he messaged me!”

“Calm down,” Kimberly said automatically, reading the first text. It was from “mountaindew18” again, and it was a doozy.

Hey beautiful, I’m sorry about what I said in Starbucks lol, I take it all back :( I want us to be together, I was crazy to think otherwise. It’s a Saturday night and I need to see my girl, I know you’re busy with the basketball game but you can sneak away at halftime lol, meet me in the gym hallway ;)

“Holy shit,” Kimberly muttered, scrolling to the second message.

Oh and I know you don’t have lots of time to get ready but don’t worry, this morning I had some free time so I went and got your stuff from your house and put it in your school locker, plus arranged a little surprise present for you lol :D

“Did you read it?” Bobby demanded, gripping his head with both hands. “Did you read the part where he was in my freaking house? He was in my room! He was actually in my room! I’m freaking out, Kimmy!”

“Deep breaths,” Kimberly ordered, scrolling to read the third and final message.

And NO COLD FEET ALLOWED! If I don’t get a selfie of you wearing your new dress and getting all pretty for me in 15 MINUTES, I’ll be super mad, and I know where you live beautiful lol

The text was accompanied by a picture of the blackmailer himself, still wearing his red beanie, standing on the porch of Bobby’s house holding up a large bouquet of roses.

“Oh my god,” Kimberly muttered. “This guy is a lunatic.”

“What do we do?” Bobby groaned. “I’m supposed to be kicking Saint Ceylan’s asses right now! I can’t deal with this psycho stalker shit!”

“We get you into that dress ASAP,” Kimberly said decisively, discreetly switching Bobby’s phone to silent and sliding it into her purse. “Then we start stalling, and then we call the cops on his pervy ass.” She put both hands on her ex’s shoulders, the picture of a supportive friend. “Don’t worry, Bobby. We will get you out of this.”

Bobby stared at the garbage bag, gritting his teeth. “I hate this,” he muttered. “I hate horny Winnie the Pooh so freaking much. I’m going to get this asshole if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Good,” Kimberly said. She pulled the plush bear out of the bag and set it in the corner of the sink countertop, then pulled out the blonde wig. “Now hurry up and get the dress on.”

#

Josh Delacroix was having a pretty bad game, by his standards. Even though the Tomcats’ main three-point threat, Bobby Vickerson, was out with a last-minute bout of food poisoning, Josh still got caught out on the arc a few times and wasn’t able to stop his man from scoring. On the offensive end, he was racking up a decent number of points, but had also let a few nice passes slip right through his hands and even missed what should have been a point-blank dunk.

His head just wasn’t in the game. For the first time in his life, he was more eager and excited for halftime than he was for the actual match. About three minutes away from the break, he got his first indication that Phase Three was in motion. Most people in the stands were still following the action, but an awful lot of them seemed to suddenly be more invested in their phones. As soon as the whistle blew, Josh ran to the bench and picked up his iPhone -- usually he didn’t even bring it to games, since social media was a distraction, but this particular game was different.

Right on time, Bobby Vickerson’s Facebook profile was updating. He had put a timer delay on the edits he’d made, to make sure they coincided with the game, but now anyone who clicked through to Bobby’s profile found “Barbie Vickerson” instead, whose main picture was a stunning post-Papillon photo of her touching her perfect blonde hair and smiling, a little nervously, for the camera. The latest status update was brief, but memorable:

Okay, I’m finally doing this… Lots of you already have guessed anyways, haha. I’m Barbie, now and always. I’m a girl. I’m a hottie. I’m kind of a princess. Please forget about “Bobby” and meet the real me today at halftime of our game. THANK YOU, Jefferson High, for agreeing to play my video. OMFG, I’m sooo nervous haha. Kisses! #BOY2BABE #OUTNPROUD #STRIVE4REALNESS

Josh’s heart was pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the basketball game, and he quickly checked Bobby’s other socials to make sure the same message was being posted on Instagram, Snapchat, even Twitter. He could see from the rapid accumulation of likes and comments that the social media blitz was working. His own teammates were completely ignoring the coach’s speech, staring at their phones and muttering to each other in amazement.

Josh had emailed the Jefferson High administration from Bobby’s school email, explaining the situation and asking for permission to do a little “halftime presentation.” The school principal had been a little surprised by the news, but several staff members had already seen the signs, and, since it was a great way to bolster their reputation as a tolerant, caring environment, they had agreed.

The stands were buzzing with conversation, excited whispers and disbelieving scoffs. But as a sappy pop song started to play through the Jumbotron speakers, and the first picture of Bobby as a rambunctious little boy appeared on the screen, everybody fell silent. Josh couldn’t take full credit for the masterpiece -- Kimberly Quinn had done her fair share, too, trawling through all of Bobby’s photos to find the right ones: wearing pink T-shirts, hugging his mom, or just looking particularly boyish but simultaneously sad or upset. And, of course, the Halloween photo where he was dressed as a princess, which drew a chorus of squeals from the girls in the audience.

Josh caught sight of Bobby’s parents -- he knew them from photos, not real life -- staring at the screen in total shock. The slideshow shifted to Bobby as a teenager, mostly in black and white to give it a moody atmosphere, accompanied by more somber music. Then, with an explosion of color and a cheery, upbeat Taylor Swift song, came what everybody had been waiting for: “Barbie” standing in the salon, looking incredulously at the mirror, “Barbie” in the mall bathroom, primping for the perfect selfie, “Barbie” sitting in the food court, surrounded by fellow hotties.

Next came the videos that social media had never seen: Bobby pouting nervously in his room as he applied lipstick, clumsily blotting it with a tissue, Bobby traipsing up and down in high-heeled pumps, working on his strut, Bobby fully made-up, wearing a sexy push-up bra, blowing a kiss to the camera -- that last one elicited a few gasps from the crowd. There was even a shot of him wearing his romper, standing in front of the mirror while he adjusted the sit of his pendant necklace, critically eyeing his own cleavage with a wistfulness that, to someone who didn’t know better, might have expressed a longing for his boobs to grow just a little faster.

The narrative was crystal clear, even without the captions Kimberly had painstakingly typed up that charted Bobby’s “realization” he had been living a lie, and was only happy when he was in heels and makeup, and never wanted to go back to boyhood. Then, as an absolute master-stroke, the video went live. Bobby was standing in one of the school bathrooms, fidgeting nervously as his ex-girlfriend, now girl friend, made last-minute check-ups to his hair and makeup.

For the members of the Jefferson High student body who hadn’t realized exactly what Bobby’s baggy sweats and hoodies had been hiding for the past several weeks, seeing it in the flesh was enough to make a few of them audibly lose it. Josh heard a chorus of “no way” and “holy shit” from the crowd. He didn’t blame them in the slightest, as he was equally transfixed by the beautiful blonde in the red minidress and stilettoes.

There was no sound, but Bobby was clearly agitated, arms folded anxiously, while Kimberly was the perfect picture of a supportive friend giving him an encouraging speech. A caption appeared on the bottom of the video:

Getting ready for you guys, sooo nervous... I’m not your basketball star anymore, but can you cheer for me?

#

“Where is this freaking perv?” Bobby demanded, pacing back and forth in the mincing stride required by his tight dress and high-heeled pumps. “Seriously, what is he playing at?”

“Relax,” Kimberly said. “I’m sure he’s going to show up any second now. As soon as he does, you keep him talking while I dial 911. This has to be attempted kidnapping, nevermind all the blackmail stuff.”

They had managed to sneak, unseen, from the teachers’ bathroom to the gym hall. Normally students filtered out of the gymnasium during halftime to get snacks or use the washroom, but not tonight. Kimberly knew exactly why. Her phone was blowing up with messages about it, though she kept half her attention on Bobby while she sifted through them. Her ex was stressed out and flustered, but even stressed out and flustered, she’d made him look hot.

Working with limited makeup and hair products had been a challenge she’d overcome with ingenuity: she would have loved to put some waves in his hair, but since that was out of the realm of possibility she chose instead to pile it into a sexy-messy updo, leaving a few graceful blonde tendrils free to frame his face. She’d applied the “less is more” philosophy with the makeup, using only a little bit of eyebrow pencil, liner, and a double coat of mascara, letting Bobby’s lips steal the show.

The fire engine red lipstick was almost aggressively sexy, and it perfectly matched his dress. When Josh had sneaked through Bobby’s window to get the stuff from his closet, he’d also raided the Forbidden Room. Serena’s closet was loaded with expensive dresses from countless pageants and photoshoots, and Kimberly could see why Josh had picked this one: it hugged every possible curve, ended barely mid-thigh, and had a low-cut sweetheart neckline that made the most of her ex’s cleavage. Together with the four-inch stiletto pumps, press-on claws, and big silver hoop earrings, it was almost too much, but Bobby’s innocent blue eyes and nervous pout offset things just enough.

She wanted people to see him as a gorgeous girl experimenting with her newfound beauty, not an over-the-top sexpot. And at this point, she just really wanted people to see him, period. The notifications on her phone were reaching a fever pitch, and she realized that her hands were actually trembling a little. This was it. The dominos were all falling. She could already hear the chanting, but Bobby, in his distraction, took a few extra seconds to notice. A frown crossed his pretty face.

“Hey, do you hear that?” he asked. “Shit, they’re cheering for me! They’re doing the “We Love Bobby” thing.” He tugged at the hem of his dress, groaning softly. “I should be in there soaking it up, not trying to entrap some freaking football player perv from Green Lake College.”

Kimberly swallowed. “Are you sure they’re saying “Bobby” and not…?”

Her ex minced closer to the gymnasium side door, pressing his ear against it to listen and inadvertently making his silver hoop earring clink against the metal. She watched as his expression changed to one of utter bafflement.

“They’re saying “We Love Barbie,”” he muttered. “But, like, everybody is saying it. Not just those dicks from Saint Ceylan’s. The whole crowd is chanting it.” Suspicion flickered in his blue eyes. “Hey, where’s my phone? You grabbed it when we left the bathroom, right?”

“Yeah,” Kimberly said. “Yeah, here it is.” She pulled Bobby’s iPhone out of her purse and passed it over. As soon as he took it, his eyes widened. She watched him scroll frantically through his notifications, long nails clicking awkwardly against the screen. Was he going to realize what was going on? Was he going to pin it on the right person? For the first time in a long time, she thought she was just as nervous as her ex.

“Oh, my god,” Bobby gasped. “My Insta… My Facebook… He posted this, this video, and everybody thinks that I’m…” He was hyperventilating, breasts bobbing prettily as he pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, avoiding the sharp nails for once. “My mom commented on it,” he said in a whisper. “So did my dad. Oh, my god. They think I planned this!”

Kimberly could see tears welling in in her ex’s bright blue eyes, and it almost made her feel sorry for him. She had never seen him cry before. But then she thought of all the times he’d made her cry, made her feel totally lost and confused and pathetic, and she knew she was giving the great Bobby Vickerson exactly what he deserved.

“I have to set them straight,” he whispered. “I have to go in there right now, before it gets any crazier, and tell them this is all bullshit. Mister Perv must have been planning this all along.”

He reached up for the blonde wig, and Kimberly held her breath, waiting to see it flutter to the floor as he marched into the gym and, in total Bobby Vickerson fashion, made a mess of her plans. But then his eyes widened, staring over Kimberly’s shoulder, and instead of tearing it off, he only adjusted a stray strand of hair.

She turned around. Bobby’s parents were standing there in the hallway, still clutching their phones, but their gaze was fixed on their only son, as if they were seeing him for the very first time. Mr. Vickerson looked stunned, while Bobby’s mom, normally so composed, had tears running down her face.

“Mom,” Bobby croaked. “Dad. This was all a huge mistake, please, you have to believe me, it’s all a big sick joke, I didn’t mean… I thought you guys were packing for Rio, why are you even here, I…”

Bobby’s mom walked closer, heels clicking against the polished floor with each step. Bobby kept babbling right up to the moment she hugged him, pulling him into the tightest embrace possible, and a second after that his dad was awkwardly hugging both of them, patting his son’s bare back. Kimberly watched Bobby’s expression of panic turn to one of absolute shock, and, for just the briefest moment, a hint of child-like bliss, something Kimberly wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before, crossed her ex’s face.

“Barbie,” Bobby’s mom said, stepping back, taking both her son’s manicured hands in hers. “My god, honey, you’re gorgeous.” She gave him a teary smile. “You make that dress look better than Serena ever did.”

Bobby’s lipsticked mouth fell open. He seemed to have completely forgotten Kimberly was there. His eyes, still full of fear and confusion, were now overflowing with tears.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see it,” his mom said. “I should have known. I should have realized. Can you ever forgive me, Barbie?”

“But it’s all fake,” Bobby whispered, unconsciously adjusting his hair, straightening his dress.

“Absolutely not,” his mom said. “You don’t look fake in the least.” She shot a look at her husband. “I can’t believe it. We had two beautiful daughters all along, and we never realized.”

Mr. Vickerson was still red in the face, but he was looking at his feminized son with a clinical eye. “You look, uh…” He paused. “You look gorgeous, Barbie. We have to get a portfolio going. We can use this buzz to push for something big, maybe a collab with your sister, even…”

“Not the time,” his wife scolded, taking a wipe from her purse.

Kimberly watched as Bobby’s mom started fixing her son’s smeared makeup with practiced motions. He was too overwhelmed to reply, frozen in the headlights just like he’d been in the Starbucks, but this was for a totally different reason. For the first time Kimberly could remember, his parents were looking at him the way they always looked at photos of Serena. It was for the good of the plan, but it almost made her angry, seeing that admiration, that love Bobby in no way deserved.

Bobby’s mom squeezed his trembling hands, then adjusted the bodice of his dress, ensuring it framed his cleavage just so. “Kimberly, do you have Barbie’s lipstick in your bag?” she asked.

Kimberly handed it over, and Bobby obediently pouted his lips. His mom smoothed on a fresh coating of the bright red color, put the tube away, and linked arms with him. The chanting inside the gymnasium was reaching its crescendo.

“Come on, Barbie,” Bobby’s mom said. “The Vickersons never disappoint an adoring audience.” She pushed the door open and gently pulled Bobby through behind her, leaving Kimberly and Mr. Vickerson to trail behind after them into the gymnasium.

The instant Jefferson High caught sight of their feminized idol, the volume doubled. Bobby looked around in a total daze, combing a stray tendril of blonde away from his face. His mom gave him one final squeeze as someone scurried forward to put a microphone into his manicured grip, then stepped back.

Bobby’s hoop earrings gleamed and twinkled in the bright lights, his dress pushed his new curves to their limits, and as he sashayed forward his stilettoes clopped noisily against the hardwood, echoing all the way to the ceiling. Kimberly saw Josh Delacroix on the end of the visitors bench with his jaw hanging open -- some things never changed.

Bobby Vickerson, who eight weeks ago had swaggered up and down this same court after hitting the game-winning shot against Saint Ceylan’s, now swished his way to center court to deafening applause. His graceful wiggling walk screamed “female.” His curvy butt, dainty waist, and burgeoning boobs screamed “female.” His fluttering hands, pouting lips, and dipping eyelashes screamed “female.” Everything about him confirmed the story up on the Jumbotron screen. The crowd went silent as he raised the microphone in his slender hands.

“H-hi, Jefferson High,” he said hoarsely. “Um… I don’t know who put that video together…”

There was a round of appreciative laughter. Kimberly held her breath. This was the moment of truth. Bobby could still deny everything. He could still rip off the wig, hurl accusations, and tell the world he was the victim of a perverted blackmailer. Jefferson High’s adoration was important to him, but not more important to him than his masculinity. But she had realized that the love he got from his classmates was just a poor substitute for something he wanted much, much more. She watched as his eyes locked onto his sniffling parents.

Bobby stood up a little straighter, pushing out his bust. His voice raised in pitch. “But it’s, um, really nice?” he continued, blushing furiously. “Thank you, everybody, for being here. And cheering. And stuff.”

The crowd whistled and clapped, and his dad put an arm around his mom, who was choking up again.

“So, this might not be, um, a permanent change?” Bobby said, clearing his throat. The crowd fell into confused whispers, and a couple people booed. Kimberly saw Mr. Vickerson raise one eyebrow. “But it might be!” Bobby quickly added. “I’m just, you know, striving.” He smiled through gritted teeth, flashing his pearly whites. “For realness.”

The crowd went absolutely wild. Just like eight weeks ago, Bobby was mobbed, but this time it was by the cheerleaders first, who were hugging him and squealing and jumping up and down in delight, while other students circled around to congratulate him on his “coming out” and his teammates, baffled but moved by the whole thing, offered awkward handshakes or fist-pounds. Halftime had gone way past its allotted time, but the Tomcats’ coach was too stunned by his former star point guard’s transformation into a blonde bombshell to complain, and the Sprites’ coach looked a little teary-eyed with emotion.

But Bobby had eyes only for his parents, who were watching proudly from the sidelines, phones out to record it just like they had recorded every moment of Serena’s pageants and fashion shows, and when the crowd thinned they came through to hug their son again. He was still in a sort of daze, but Kimberly saw the smallest hint of a smile on his painted lips as his mother, cooing and clucking, started fixing his newly-streaky makeup.

Kimberly applauded along with everyone else, unable to contain her happiness. She knew the high was going to wear off, and Bobby would need further “steering” to ensure things stayed on course, but for now, she felt like she had just won the biggest game of her life. She locked eyes with Josh Delacroix, who was surrounded by teammates prodding him to go congratulate his one-time rival, and smirked.

Barbie Vickerson was now out and proud, and that would be awfully tough to come back from.