I step in front of the mirror hanging from the back of my door and let myself take it all in.
I run my fingers down the front of my suit jacket. It nips in at all the right places. The pants are cut close to my thighs and are hemmed short enough to show off my heels. My black bow tie is sharp, but the real showstoppers are the rainbow lining of my suit jacket and the rainbow cummerbund draped around my belly like a victory banner. For as long as I can remember, my clothing has never felt like me, but this outfit doesn’t sacrifice a thing. It shows me off. Not just my body. Butme.
Grammy outdid herself.
There’s a quiet knock on the door, and I open it to see Grammy waiting for me.
“Well?” she asks.
“It’s perfect. It’s everything I wanted,” I tell her.
“I tailored the pants a little, like you kids like to wear them. Skinny pants.”
I reach for her hand and squeeze it.
“Did you see inside the lapel?” she asks.
I open my jacket to see a small, slightly lopsided pumpkin stitched into the black fabric right before the lining begins.
My eyes begin to water and she waves a finger in myface. “No puffy eyes for this queen.”
I nod with fervor.
She takes a step back to admire her handiwork. “When the world isn’t selling what you’re looking to buy, you just have to take it upon yourself to cut your own pattern.”
Thirty-Five
The three of us take every possible combination of pictures you can assemble with three people before prom.
Hannah’s grandmother is even there with her cell phone snapping pictures.
While Hannah is running back to her car for the matching corsages she bought for her and Clem, Hannah’s grandmother nudges me with her elbow. “Clementine talks about you nonstop. I’m always telling her to bring you over.”
“I’m a recluse, Ms. Perez,” I whisper.
“Call me Grandma Camile or ’Lita. And from the way my Hannah tells it, you’re the life of the party.”
“Oh, is that true?” Has Hannah told Grandma Camile about my drag queen aspirations?
Her eyes sparkle a little as she watches Clementine pin the corsage to Hannah’s jacket. “You interested in keeping an old lady with an empty nest company? I’m sure you’re busy with plenty, but—”
“Actually,” I tell her, “old ladies are right on brand forme.” I could hang with Grandma Camile every once in a while. She’s got good energy.
She pats me on the chest and needlessly straightens my bow tie. “It’s a date. Now get over there so I can get some more pictures.”
The three of us assemble again, and my mother poses us like bendable Barbies until my jaw aches and the smile has melted off my face.
“Tío Braulio says to knock ’em dead tonight!” Grandma Camile tells Hannah with a thumbs-up.
“Tell him I said thanks and to stop sending me envelopes full of pennies for my birthday. It’s not funny and I only accept payment in gift cards now that I’m a grown-ass adult.”
Grandma Camile tsks at her. “Enough with the mouth, mija. My Facebook audience is family friendly.”
Hannah’s jaw drops open. “Are you livestreaming this?” She breaks her pose with Clem and begins to stomp forward, reaching for her grandmother’s phone.
“Aaaaand that’s a wrap on prom pictures,” I say as Clementine laughs so hard she’s got tears streaming down her face.
We drive in my truck to the Clover City Country Club and Dance Hall, where nearly every wedding and special event in town is held. Last year, the club supposedly told the school district that they’d have to find a new place to host prom after some students drove a couple of golf carts into a pond, but I guess someone’s parents stepped in witha threat, money, or both, because they let us back in.
