And the girls found they could not answer. For they’d never been asked that question in the pageant prep.
Tiara’s expression was pained. “I don’t mean to offend you, Petra or J. T. or whatever, but my mom says that’s against nature and God.”
“Maybe you should ask God and nature why they put a girl inside a boy’s body?” Petra shouted to the uncaring sky. “And while you’re at it, maybe you should ask your mom why she thinks it’s not against God and nature to dress her little girl up in garters, spackle her face with makeup, and let her pole dance.”
“It’s Christian pole dancing,” Tiara said softly.
“It’s abuse,” Petra said. “Making your third grader go for a spray tan instead of playing in the park just so Mom can outsource her failed dreams to her kid? So wrong.”
Tiara’s eyes filled with tears. “She only wants what’s best for me. She knows I love the pageants.”
“Do you, really?” Petra challenged, and Tiara was silent.
“Why did you enter Miss Teen Dream?” Nicole asked Petra. “I mean, that’s, like, suicidal.”
Petra let out a long exhale. “My parents always wanted me to be able to have the surgery. I got the therapist, had the electrolysis, went on the hormones and the androgen blockers. I did almost everything. But then my mom got cancer. The chemo was expensive and the insurance wouldn’t pay. Said it was a preexisting condition.”
“Breast cancer?”
“Breasts,” Petra said bitterly. “Long story short, we were massively in debt. So long, sex reassignment surgery.”
“What about all that money you made with Boyz Will B Boyz?” Nicole asked.
“Embezzled by our manager.”
“Harsh. Wow, I’m really sorry,” Nicole said. “So how’d you decide on Miss Teen Dream?”
Petra rocked back, still holding tightly to her knees. “It wasn’t my idea. Through my support group, I met these political activists from a transgender rights group called Trans Am.”
“Trans Am?” Shanti made a face. “Your transgender rights group named themselves after a cheesy 1980s car and you aligned yourself with them? That’s like picking a plastic surgeon out of the grocery circular.”
“Okay. The name’s stupid. But they wanted to make a statement. They got me my hormones and promised to pay for the surgery if I’d go through Miss Teen Dream, the ultimate female pageant, as a contestant. All I had to do was place and then reveal myself at a press conference afterward and people would have to question everything they think about transgender people and about gender itself.”
“So you’re making fun of us?” Tiara asked.
“No! Not at all,” Petra said.
“Why not do one of those drag pageants, win money that way?” Nicole asked.
Petra kicked the tree. “Because I’m not in drag! This is who I am. That’s why I want to make a statement, so people understand. It’s a stand against discrimination. Look, I don’t need to win. I just need to place and do the press conference, and then I’ll have enough for the operation. Can you just not say anything? Please?”
The girls exchanged glances. It was Shanti who spoke. “I’m sorry. You broke the rules. I have to turn you in.”
“He — she might not even place,” Nicole tried.
“And if he does, that’s taking away a spot that could go to you or me. It’s not like the pageant just loves women of color, you know.”
Tiara looked up. “I thought you said the pageant wasn’t racist.”
“Bitch, please,” Shanti and Nicole said in unison.
“Besides, the pageant’s already on shaky ground,” Shanti argued. “All we need is another scandal, and then it’s over and none of us gets scholarship money. I’m sorry. But I’m a rules girl. I have to turn you in, Petra. We should get moving while there’s daylight.”
Nicole was torn. She liked Petra and she understood what it was to be discriminated against. But this was different, wasn’t it? Petra had deceived them, and Nicole didn’t like being lied to. She honestly didn’t know what to do.
“Maybe there’s another way to get the money.” She patted Petra’s shoulder and fell in behind Shanti.
Petra turned to Tiara. “I guess you hate me, too.”
Tiara tried not to look at Petra. Her eyes kept slipping down to her non-girl region. “I’m so confused. I don’t know if you’re a girl or a boy.”
Tiara’s expression was pained. “I don’t mean to offend you, Petra or J. T. or whatever, but my mom says that’s against nature and God.”
“Maybe you should ask God and nature why they put a girl inside a boy’s body?” Petra shouted to the uncaring sky. “And while you’re at it, maybe you should ask your mom why she thinks it’s not against God and nature to dress her little girl up in garters, spackle her face with makeup, and let her pole dance.”
“It’s Christian pole dancing,” Tiara said softly.
“It’s abuse,” Petra said. “Making your third grader go for a spray tan instead of playing in the park just so Mom can outsource her failed dreams to her kid? So wrong.”
Tiara’s eyes filled with tears. “She only wants what’s best for me. She knows I love the pageants.”
“Do you, really?” Petra challenged, and Tiara was silent.
“Why did you enter Miss Teen Dream?” Nicole asked Petra. “I mean, that’s, like, suicidal.”
Petra let out a long exhale. “My parents always wanted me to be able to have the surgery. I got the therapist, had the electrolysis, went on the hormones and the androgen blockers. I did almost everything. But then my mom got cancer. The chemo was expensive and the insurance wouldn’t pay. Said it was a preexisting condition.”
“Breast cancer?”
“Breasts,” Petra said bitterly. “Long story short, we were massively in debt. So long, sex reassignment surgery.”
“What about all that money you made with Boyz Will B Boyz?” Nicole asked.
“Embezzled by our manager.”
“Harsh. Wow, I’m really sorry,” Nicole said. “So how’d you decide on Miss Teen Dream?”
Petra rocked back, still holding tightly to her knees. “It wasn’t my idea. Through my support group, I met these political activists from a transgender rights group called Trans Am.”
“Trans Am?” Shanti made a face. “Your transgender rights group named themselves after a cheesy 1980s car and you aligned yourself with them? That’s like picking a plastic surgeon out of the grocery circular.”
“Okay. The name’s stupid. But they wanted to make a statement. They got me my hormones and promised to pay for the surgery if I’d go through Miss Teen Dream, the ultimate female pageant, as a contestant. All I had to do was place and then reveal myself at a press conference afterward and people would have to question everything they think about transgender people and about gender itself.”
“So you’re making fun of us?” Tiara asked.
“No! Not at all,” Petra said.
“Why not do one of those drag pageants, win money that way?” Nicole asked.
Petra kicked the tree. “Because I’m not in drag! This is who I am. That’s why I want to make a statement, so people understand. It’s a stand against discrimination. Look, I don’t need to win. I just need to place and do the press conference, and then I’ll have enough for the operation. Can you just not say anything? Please?”
The girls exchanged glances. It was Shanti who spoke. “I’m sorry. You broke the rules. I have to turn you in.”
“He — she might not even place,” Nicole tried.
“And if he does, that’s taking away a spot that could go to you or me. It’s not like the pageant just loves women of color, you know.”
Tiara looked up. “I thought you said the pageant wasn’t racist.”
“Bitch, please,” Shanti and Nicole said in unison.
“Besides, the pageant’s already on shaky ground,” Shanti argued. “All we need is another scandal, and then it’s over and none of us gets scholarship money. I’m sorry. But I’m a rules girl. I have to turn you in, Petra. We should get moving while there’s daylight.”
Nicole was torn. She liked Petra and she understood what it was to be discriminated against. But this was different, wasn’t it? Petra had deceived them, and Nicole didn’t like being lied to. She honestly didn’t know what to do.
“Maybe there’s another way to get the money.” She patted Petra’s shoulder and fell in behind Shanti.
Petra turned to Tiara. “I guess you hate me, too.”
Tiara tried not to look at Petra. Her eyes kept slipping down to her non-girl region. “I’m so confused. I don’t know if you’re a girl or a boy.”
