Word count: 937
Summary: A young girl’s best friend proves that chest size doesn’t matter when it comes to a beautiful prom dress, or anything for that matter.
Note: This is the longest story so far, but I couldn’t limit myself when this message is relevant for so many people.
Martin stood up from the chair and looked at the navy dress they had chosen. It was silk, halter neck, with a thin silver belt under the bust, and the rest of the dress wrapped snugly around her waist before flowing onto the floor.
“You look...”
“Dumb?” Siobhan offered, putting both hands on her hips as she looked in the mirror, turning to the side. “I don’t have the boobs for a dress like this.” She focused on the v-cut, imagining that she was two cup sizes bigger. “I’ll try the last one on and we can go look somewhere else, okay?”
She began to draw the curtain before Martin yanked it open again. “What are you talking about?” he asked, appalled. Raising Siobhan’s hand above her head, he motioned for her to spin around. “This dress looks amazing on you,” she spun once, tentatively, “it fits you perfectly! I’m sure the cutlery and what-have-you from Beauty and the Beast would have had a fit if Belle didn’t like the yellow dress!” His eyes were fixed on the dress, struggling to take in every inch. “I’m not kidding when I say I’ve never seen you look so elegant, so radiant, so...”
“Alright, alright,” she giggled, shooing him away with her hands. “I’ll get the dress.” Martin pursed his lips, trying to conceal his glee. “I have a back-up at home anyway, so I can take this back and change my mind any time, you know.”
He rolled his eyes. “Alright, I got it!”
~
“Why did I listen to you?” Siobhan sighed as Martin held her hand and walked ahead of her towards the hotel that the prom was being held at.
White limousines and chattering teenagers decorated the entrance in front of the golden revolving doors; Siobhan held her head down.
“I look like a child playing dress-up with her mother’s clothes,” she scrutinized her chest. “What's up, A-cup? They look like rose-buds that forgot to bloom. All the other girls--”
“A lot of the other girls also like Taylor Swift, that doesn’t make it right.”
~
It was an hour into the night and Siobhan had had nothing but kind words about how great her hair looked, how well Martin matched her with his white suit and navy tie, and most importantly, how ‘grown-up’, how ‘beautiful’, how ‘stylish’ the dress made her look. At school, she was always in a uniform that hung rather than clung, so she caught a lot of people's attention that night.
“You’re like a butterfly,” one of her classmates, Tilly, said. “I had no idea you were so pretty.”
“Nor did I...?” Siobhan replied, glancing at Martin who winked and mouthed, ‘told you so.’
“Nor did I,” came a voice from behind her. Turning around, she was met with Shannon: big-breasted, big-haired girl in a dress that Siobhan was sure was...
“Is that a wedding dress ?” Siobhan whispered to herself, looking at everyone to check their faces for any mutual shock.
“Where’s this ‘pretty’ girl?” she looked everywhere but at Siobhan. “Is this why you’ve never worn nice clothes?” she focused on Siobhan's breasts. “Because you’re as flat as a cheeseboard?”
“A...a what? A cheeseboard ?” Siobhan replied, testing the word out on her tongue. “Is that supposed to be a...posh insult?”
“Cheeseboard, ha!” Davey, quipped, putting a hand around Shannon’s waist. “You’re not wrong, there’s nothing there.”
Siobhan felt her face getting hotter as she clenched her fists. “This wannabe bride dares to....”
“Hey, whoa now,” Martin said, “let me join in on this one.” He puffed his chest out and walked up to the bullies until barely a few inches separated their feet. “My chest isn’t exactly like a pumped up pair of balloons either, man.”
“You’re a guy?” Davey said as if Martin were incapable of realizing. “You’re supposed to have a flat chest.”
“Oh alright, and a ‘girl’ is 'supposed' to be, what?” he stole a look at Shannon. “Big-chested? Skinny-waisted? A passive creature that exists to look good on your arm? Please,” he pulled Siobhan closer to him, “this lovely lady is better than both of you put together, and some.”
Davey rearranged his feet and stared at Martin; Shannon just looked at Siobhan, refusing to acknowledge anything ‘better’ about her.
Martin continued. “Something as minor as how she looks should be none of your concern.”
“Whatever, you’re so gay,” Davey laughed.
“If caring about my female friend makes me ‘gay’, then...” Martin seized Davey by his lapels, got on his tip-toes and kissed him. “...I guess I’m gay,” he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb.
Tilly clapped and screamed, “Someone got told !”
“What the fuck ?” Davey pushed him away and wiped his lips so furiously that part of the dry skin got rubbed onto his hand. “Fuck...fucking dick!” he stuttered.
“Save the dirty talk for later, yeah?” Martin winked.
Siobhan couldn’t contain it any longer, she burst out laughing, which made Shannon speak up: “Oh grow up, you freaks!” Grabbing Davey by the arm, they headed to the main hall, Shannon nearly tripping over her dress as she went.
“I can’t believe you,” Siobhan continued to laugh, hitting Martin on the arm with the back of her hand. “But thanks.”
“You’re my best fucking friend, dude, like I’m gonna let anyone speak to you like that without making a scene.”
“Come on,” she held her hand out, “let’s show them what a real dance looks like.”
“Thriller ?”
She smiled and raised her eyebrows.
He bowed his head before looking at her and squeezing her hand. “Let’s tear that dance floor up , girl!”
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