Denver's POV (Alix)

We were jumping around in Joshua's room. Claude, Josh and I.

I had no idea what gay anthem it was we were dancing to, but it was marvelous and even Claude was smiling and dancing with us.

We had eaten pizza and Joshua had dolled up Claude who had been more than willing to not look like the saddest member of a church choir. And with all due credit to Joshua's make-up skills and fashion sense, Claude looked absolutely smoking.

Me on the other hand. Royally pissed off at the thought of becoming Lemming Barbie.

That day when Joshua had accepted the invitation, I had been with him all the way. Sure, I would show up at the party looking like a million and rub it in their faces. When I had breathed in the air of sanity afterwards, I had been terrified. Closely followed by nauseated and yes, pissed.

I did not do parties. I did not do clubs. I had no desire to spend an evening with testosterone bombs and ditsy airheads wrecked with hormones and alcohol. I would much rather have gone to the bowling alley or the movies with my friends and stayed clear of whichever humiliation the WTF's had planned.

Joshua had been unrelenting, and Mischa had been no help whatsoever, he was usually the first to want to ditch those parties. They had suckered me into it. That was my story, and I was sticking with it.

The feelings I had inside were a turmoil of wanting to go run and hide. It was the first party of the year and everybody who was anybody would be there.

Sirius too.

Like I had not just spent a week trying to avoid that smug mountain of steroids. The ride home had been a one-time fluke. The heavy rain and his threat to come out and make me get into his car. I was not about to have those big hands all over me.

Ever!

Those big, nice hands that looked to be strong and still soft...

Jeez, I needed to snap the fuck out of those thoughts.

"Your turn."

Joshua was still dancing but had thrown a disposable razor at me and pointed at the bathroom. "You need to turn that peach into a nectarine." He pointed at my crotch and went on, "And then get dressed in the clothes I've left for you."

Hesitantly I walked to the bathroom and rid myself of my comfortable jeans and top. I jumped into the shower and washed my hair and began the de-Chewbacca'ing process. Under my arms, legs and yes, that area too. It was not that I did not keep things neat, I just had no reason to be anal about it.

When I had dried off and put my hair in a turban, I dared to look at the clothes he had left for me.

Yeah....

That was not going to happen.

It was a piece of lace the size of a band aid kept together with dental floss. That was not underwear. That was a stripper uniform. And there was no bra in sight!

I put on the uncomfortable black g-string panties and then the copper colored dress.

Great make me look like diarrhea. Brown dress, brown hair, brown eyes. Shine me up with purple makeup and I would be ready for my time shift back to the 70's.

"I'm not wearing this," I grumbled loudly when I emerged from the bathroom. "It's a handkerchief with shoulder straps."
"Oh, shut up." Joshua Grabbed my wrist and dragged me over to the dressing table where he proceeded to blow out my hair and twirl it up in a sexy hairdo with little strands of hair let loose to frame my face.

"Please don't make me look like a clown."
Joshua scoffed. "I don't know how to do makeup badly."

So, to the tunes of Gloria Gaynor's I am what I am, he turned me and applied foundation and powder making me sneeze. Finishing off with a sultry smokey-eye makeup in a deep plum color and a plum colored lipstick he stepped back and admired his work like a proud gay fairy Godmother.

"That there will make the Y-girls crap their pants at the competition. Mark my words, you'll slay tonight."

I stood up and inspected myself in the full-length mirror.

Ok, I did not look like diarrhea. My hair shone; my eyes popped. The copper dress made my pale skin glow. It was a great color for me because of the shine. It was like liquid metal poured over my body. Well, from my breasts to my mid-thighs.

I gave up. It was a good look, though I felt naked and slightly self-conscious going to a party with free range titties.

"Holy shit."

Mischa who had been at practice or some basketball thing and told he would join us later to drive, had come into Joshua's room and stood there looking at me like I had just given birth to the anti-Christ. His eyes were rolling out of their sockets and his mouth hung open.

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies like that," I mumbled still a bit in shock at his reaction. Mischa never noticed me.

He shook his head and gently complimented Claude who blushed at his sweet words. He did not look too bad himself with his tight dark jeans and button up shirt.

"Are we ready to leave or do you need a glitter gun shot over you before we go?" Mischa asked Joshua with a wide grin looking at the unorthodox suit he was wearing. It was a metallic black with a mermaid-greenish silk shirt under. His pink hair was in a manbun and he had glitter nail polish in an orangey shade to finish off his look.

"I'm good." Joshua never seemed to care about the gay jokes. I had a feeling he relished in them. They were a confirmation of him pushing buttons and being himself. At least that was what I thought.

We had the stereo in Mischa's Camaro blasting all the way to Tiffany's house. My nerves had gone and did not show themselves until I stood in front of the open front door about to enter.

Mischa seemed to have felt my uneasiness and put his arm around my shoulder.

"Stick with me, I'll make sure nobody bothers you. And really, Denver. You do look stunning."

Hi y'all.

It's party time and it's going down. Joshua did his magic and now Denver has to show the WTF's that they can take their attitude and stuff it. Did you like it? Let me know. I do love those comments.

Thank you for reading.

Give me a follow and put the book in your library for update notifications. It'll be worth it.

Love, Alix