Return of the Sister: Part 13

Bobby glared daggers at Serena whenever he had the chance to do so unobserved, but in between he was all smiles. Or pouts, or moues, or whatever else Jan Van Antwerp required. So long as Bobby never looked towards the other end of the gym, where his teammates were still shooting around, he could pretend that the sounds of squeaking sneakers and a bouncing ball were just background noise, and that he wasn’t being ogled by the same guys he’d once led to victory on the basketball court.

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he was currently down on the floor, sitting perched on top of the basketball with his head thrown back and back arched to push his boobs up and out. The two dumbass male models weren’t in this particular shot, but they seemed to be enjoying the show plenty.

“Play with your hair, honey!” Jan ordered. “Use your left hand, play with your pony tail, and give us a nice sexy pout.”

Bobby grimaced, nearly losing his balance as he lifted his left hand and ran his long nails through his pony tail to the renewed clicking of the camera. Serena put her hand on Jan’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear, then flashed an innocent smile.

“‘Rena, you bad, bad girl,” Jan said, shaking his head. “I love it. Okay, Barbie, make a fist and give the pony tail a little yank.”

Confused, Bobby did as instructed, trying his best not to slip off the basketball.

“Mouth open, honey,” Jan ordered. “Pretend it’s your boyfriend getting frisky, okay? He’s giving your hair a little tug from behind while he’s, you know…”

Bobby’s mouth fell open of its own volition, and he locked eyes with his dad just as Vickerson senior lost nearly an entire mouthful of coffee. Even Kimberly and his mom had gone red in the face. Bobby was so startled he lost his balance and slipped right off the basketball, landing ass-first on the hardwood with a painful thump that made his butt cheeks jiggle slightly in a way they never would have two months ago.

“Oops,” Jan said. “Don’t worry, honey, we got the shot. That wide-eyed innocent look is hot.”

One of the male models offered Bobby a hand up, which he pushed away before getting to his feet on his own, still blushing furiously. The sounds of the pick-up game had stopped short, and before he could stop himself he looked over. His old teammates were staring at him, obviously torn between amusement and the weird hungry look that Bobby was starting to recognize. He blinked hard, setting his false eyelashes aflutter, and quickly looked away -- but not before he heard them start to snicker.

“Let’s get another action shot,” Jan suggested. “Hold the ball up like you’re going to shoot it at the basketball goal.”

“It’s a net,” Bobby muttered through gritted teeth, glaring at Serena. He complied, holding the ball up as if to shoot it, elbow a perfect ninety degrees.

“Not like that,” Jan said impatiently. “Honey, you’re blocking your face. Hold it to the side, fan your fingers more. That’s it. Now, kick up your back leg!”

Utterly mortified, Bobby slowly lifted his back leg. He was holding the ball over his head with one foot cutely popped up behind him in the air, a position no actual basketball player on the planet had ever adopted intentionally, knowing he had to look like some dumb bimbo who had asked her boyfriend to let her try to make a hoop on the basket thingy.

“Now throw it at the basket thingy!” Jan ordered.

Bobby hopped awkwardly off his one foot, heaving the ball towards the basket, and it fell pitifully short. Now even the male models were smirking at him, and there was an open guffaw from the other end of the court.

Bobby turned bright red, whirling to see who was belly laughing. It was Kenny, the worst freaking player on Jefferson High’s team. Bobby felt like all the blood in his body was being brought to a boil. Maybe if it had been DeShawn or Chet, he would have been able to turn back around and ignore it.

But it was freaking Kenny.

“Jesus,” Kenny gasped. “Could she even play for the girls’ team now?”

Seething like he’d never seethed before, Bobby leaned down and snatched the basketball up off the floor. He started stalking towards the other net, but only made it a few steps before Jan Van Antwerp slapped the ball out of his hands.

“Earth to Barbie,” he said. “Where the fuck are you going, honey?”

Bobby grabbed the ball back before it could bounce twice. He gave the photographer his sweetest smile. “I’m coming right back,” he said. “I just have to kick someone’s ass at one-on-one really super quick, okay, Jan?” He could feel his smile becoming completely unnatural. “Is that okay with you, Jan? Just really super quick, Jan?”

Jan’s eyes widened momentarily, then he broke into a huge grin. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “This is what we were missing, honey! Attitude!” He glanced over at the guys, who were all now staring openly at his model. “But leave the basketball stuff to the boys, honey. Let’s channel this into some smolder. Samuel, take your shirt off!”

Bobby glanced back and saw the other male model peeling off his jersey, revealing a six-pack almost as impressive as Josh’s. He flushed, angry at himself for mentally comparing two guys’ six-packs, and for thinking about Josh at all, then he turned to Jan once again.

“I promise it’ll be quick,” he said, still pulsating with rage. “You can even take photos if you want.”

Jan narrowed his eyes, staring him down for a long moment, but when Bobby didn’t look away, the photographer slowly nodded. “Alright,” he said. “I don’t know what one-on-one is, but it sounds sort of steamy. Just be aware that your prima donna card is one use only, honey. This is my shoot, not yours.”

Jan spun on his heel, leaving Bobby free to walk over to where his former teammates were waiting. “You and me, Kenny,” he called, hating his high girly voice more than ever. “Come on. One vee one.”

“Sure, I’ll be the Ken to your Barbie,” Kenny said, winking. “You free tonight?”

Bobby gritted his teeth. “Funny thing about Ken dolls, they don’t have a dick.”

Even in his heightened emotional state, he realized it wasn’t the best choice of words. The gym had gone totally silent, and his parents were both red in the face. Kenny had stopped laughing, looking disturbed instead.

“Look, Barbie, I don’t want to play a...girl,” he said, enunciating carefully. “If I win, I’m an asshole, if I let you win, I’m a pussy.”

“If you don’t play me, you’re a pussy,” Bobby snapped. “Check the ball. First to five, wins.”

He hurled the ball at Kenny’s chest, still trembling with anger. He was vaguely aware that his mom was apologizing profusely to Jan Van Antwerp, and saw Kimberly was heading his way with a look of panic on her face. There was nothing he could do about his nails, but he took out his hoop earrings, fumbling with the tiny loops until he could slide them free.

“Barbie, this is a bad idea,” Kimberly said. “Kenny’s a dumbass, alright? You have to do the shoot.” She lowered her voice. “You have to beat Serena, remember? Not Kenny. And you’re wearing freaking heels.”

“They’re wedges,” Bobby corrected. “And I could beat this asshole wearing stilettos anyway.”

He dropped his hoop earrings into her hands, adjusted his pony tail, and turned back to his opponent. Kenny, egged on by his teammates, reluctantly checked the ball and settled into a defensive stance. Bobby knew they were probably just amused and intrigued, but that was going to change.

Even if he wasn’t good enough to be a starter anymore, he was definitely better than an end-of-the-bench nobody like Kenny. He was going to show everybody that he could still ball.

“First to five,” Kenny agreed, with a dramatic “what can you do” shrug. “Bring it on, Barbie.”

#

Kimberly knew Bobby’s struggles on the court, which had started soon after his lost bet and resultant makeover into “Barbie,” had been mostly mental. He’d been dealing with extreme heckling, a mysterious blackmailer, and the fact that pretty much everybody in Green Lake had recently seen pictures of him in a miniskirt. Obviously her ex was still under a lot of stress, thanks in no small part to Serena, but miniskirts were now part of his everyday attire and he didn’t have to worry about “Barbie” being shown to the world -- that cat was out of the bag.

On the other hand, he had also now been on high-powered female hormones for two straight months, and even she could see that any muscle he’d once earned at the gym was now long gone. He was honestly daintier than a lot of girls on the girls’ squad. Kimberly genuinely had no idea what to expect as Bobby bent down to start his dribble, inadvertently giving a great view of his toned, curvy butt.

She was more concerned with Jan Van Antwerp, who looked either furious or incredibly excited, or some combination of both. He was deep in conversation with his assistant, both of them speaking Dutch, and Kimberly couldn’t understand a word except “Barbie.” She hadn’t even considered Bobby might be the one to piss off the photographer instead of vice versa. If Jan stormed off in a huff and cancelled the shoot, did that mean Serena had won the bet?

Kimberly tried to gauge what was going on in her rival’s mind, but Bobby’s sister was busy watching the game unfold with an expression of mild amusement, arms crossed, hip cocked. His parents, meanwhile, were casting nervous looks at Jan and barely paying attention -- which was basically the same way they’d watched Bobby’s real games back when he was a guy. Bobby himself looked as determined to win as she’d ever seen him, though the fake eyelashes and bright pink pout certainly added a new dimension to his facial expression.

Kimberly watched as her ex dribbled forward. He managed to send Kenny leaning the wrong way with a crossover -- for a split second, she could almost picture him with short dark hair and a skinny but masculine body -- but then he fumbled the ball as he tried to dribble past, long nails getting in the way of his fingertip control. The basketball careened off his foot and Kenny was quick to steal it. Now it was Bobby’s turn to play defense, and as he squatted down into position Kimberly realized half his teammates were staring down the front of his jersey, while the other half were admiring the rear view.

Bobby was too intent on the game to notice, watching the ball like a hawk. Kenny dribbled up slowly, then turned to shield the basketball as he worked his way into the post. Bobby had never been the strongest defender, but Kimberly felt almost embarrassed for him now: Kenny backed him down as if he was playing against a little kid, while Bobby, totally unable to hold his ground, stumbled backwards, reduced to slapping at the ball in hopes of a steal.

Jan moved forward to snap a few pictures, and Kimberly realized that Kenny was taking his time for a reason: he was enjoying having Bobby practically draped against him. Her ex’s small boobs were pressed up to Kenny’s back, and he was definitely close enough to get a whiff of Bobby’s flowery perfume. Once he was under the basket, Kenny bumped Bobby out of the way, turned around, and laid the ball in off the glass.

“That’s one!” he announced. “And watch the nails, will you?”

Bobby flushed bright red. His jaw was still clenched in concentration, but Kimberly could see real fear in his eyes, too. He was realizing that whatever strength he might have had was now gone -- even a lanky kid like Kenny could back him down easily. On the next possession her ex  gambled for a steal, pony-tail bouncing as he jumped forward. The camera flashed. Kenny evaded him easily on his way to yet another lay-up.

“Come on, Barbie!” DeShawn yelled. “Play D with your feet, not your hands, girl!”

Bobby looked over at his old teammate, seemingly dazed, then hunkered down again as Kenny came looking for his third point. It was clear her ex was giving it everything he had: he was flushed and panting with exertion as he tried to keep Kenny from getting to the block, but it was hopeless, and this time when Kenny blew past him he added insult to injury. There was a loud smack as his hand swatted Bobby’s bottom.

Her ex straightened up with a squeal of anger. “What the hell?” he demanded.

“Hey, if you’re going to stick it out like that,” Kenny grinned, shrugging. “That’s what Ken does to Barbie, right? Three zip.”

Kimberly glanced over at Bobby’s parents to see their reactions. His mom had a slightly strained “boys will be boys” sort of smile on her face, while his dad looked close to popping a vein. Serena, naturally, looked delighted.

For all his talk, Kenny wasn’t much of a shooter: when he tried a jump shot over Bobby’s outstretched arms, the ball clanged off the rim and shot straight into his opponent’s arms. Bobby looked almost surprised for a second, then quickly dribbled back out to the three point line, the area where he’d made his bread and butter as Jefferson High’s leading scorer. Down three to nothing, Kimberly knew the only way he would get back in the game was to hit from downtown.

“Go ahead, princess,” Kenny said, putting his hands behind his back. “Take your time!”

Bobby had an expression of pure fury on his face as he rose up for the jumpshot, the expression of a spurned prom queen or maybe a starlet about to storm off to her trailer. He still had the picture-perfect form Kimberly knew he’d spent countless hours practicing. The only difference was, he hadn’t thrown anything heavier than a used makeup wipe in months.

The basketball left his hands in a smooth arc...and barely grazed the bottom of the net.

Bobby’s whole body seemed to slump. He stared at the basket in disbelief, pretty pink lips parted in surprise. His former teammates seemed a little stunned themselves. Under normal circumstances they would have been chanting “airball” and mocking whoever had missed like crazy, but instead they were exchanging awkward looks with each other.

Kenny put the ball in the hoop again before Bobby could so much as react. Kimberly watched in amazement as her ex’s pouty lower lip started to tremble. His former teammates, DeShawn in particular, looked almost pained.

“Yo, Kenny, quit being a dick!” one of them shouted. “Let her at least get a layup!”

“Yeah, Kenny, let her score, you scrub!” Chet hollered.

Kenny glared at them. “See?” he demanded. “This is exactly what I was talking about!” But, still being a bench-warmer, he deferred to his teammates and passed Bobby the ball. “Okay, do your thing, Barbie,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Bobby was standing utterly frozen at the top of the key, cradling the basketball in both manicured hands as if it were suddenly a foreign object. He stared around at his teammates with an almost pleading expression on his face, then glanced back over his shoulder. Kimberly wasn’t getting as big a kick out of this as she’d thought she would, but someone certainly was. Serena was smiling at her brother, barely containing her glee.

“Go on, sweetie,” Bobby’s mom said nervously. “You need to get back to work, remember?”

With a look of total misery, Bobby dribbled forward -- Kenny backed away, making one exaggerated swipe nowhere near the ball -- and made a simple lay-up off the glass. The ball dropped through the net, and his former teammates cheered as if he’d just sunk another game-winner for them against St. Ceylan’s. Several of them offered high-fives -- no more fist-pounds, Kimberly noticed -- and a couple pulled Bobby into awkward hugs that lasted just a little bit too long. DeShawn, in particular, looked a little flushed to have his former friend’s soft curves pressed up against him.

“Okay, okay, get lost, boys!” Jan Van Antwerp barked, suddenly striding into the middle of it and shooing Bobby’s teammates away. He turned to his model. “Now that you have that out of your system, are you ready to be a good girl and generously continue the photo shoot I agreed to fly to…” He paused, asking his assistant something in Dutch.

“Shitsburg?” the timid man suggested.

“The photo shoot I agreed to fly to Shitsburg, Middle of Nowhere, USA, for?” Jan finished.

Bobby’s lower lip was still quivering and his blue eyes were still glued to the floor, but he nodded his head submissively, making his blonde pony tail bob.

“Good,” Jan said. “We’ve got two cute boys shirtless and waiting for you, honey. Earrings back in, and fix her makeup, would you, ‘Rena?”

Kimberly watched as Serena took her little brother by the hand, the picture of a concerned older sister. “Come on, Barbie,” she said. “Let’s get you all prettied up again.”

She shot a smug look in Kimberly’s direction, a look that said, without words, the same disturbing thought Kimberly had been having all afternoon: I might be new to this game of yours, but I can already play it better than you.

#

Bobby couldn’t stop replaying the loss in his mind, over and over. While Jan had him tossing his hair and bending over teasingly in front of the shirtless male models, Bobby was thinking about his first drive to the basket, how he should have gone left instead of right. While Jan had him standing between the two models with his cheek in his hand and a sly smile on his glossy pink lips, as if he were trying to decide which stud to go home with, Bobby was thinking about the chance he’d wasted to steal the ball cleanly.

When the first part of the shoot finally, mercifully ended, and he got sent back to the makeup chair, Bobby was thinking about the three-point shot he’d completely airballed even though he’d made it a thousand times before. His mom looked vaguely worried, making nervous small-talk to him while she let his hair out of the pony tail, sending his blonde tresses tumbling around his shoulders, but he could barely hear her. He had lost in one-on-one to Kenny, the very worst player on the team, and it hadn’t even been close.

A horrible thought came to him as she started redoing his makeup, a thought that kept sneaking back no matter how many times he pushed it away: if he couldn’t beat Kenny, did he even deserve to go back to being Bobby? Jan’s stupid “past, present, future” came back to him, and for a moment he couldn’t help but imagine his future as “Barbie.”

He saw himself preening and snapping selfies in the airport, boarding a plane to some stupid European city for a stupid fashion show, strutting along a catwalk in nothing but lingerie while Serena smirked at him from the front row, attending an afterparty full of leering men in a low-cut evening gown, hanging off the arm of a guy who looked, for some reason, like Josh…

He shuddered, but his eyes went to iPhone, which was sitting just out of reach. For a brief instant he wanted to message Josh and tell him about everything that had happened, even about losing to Kenny, and express just how miserable and messed-up he was feeling.

“Time for your next outfit, sweetie,” his mom said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”

Bobby meekly followed his mom behind the wheeled curtain and let her help undress him. He was left shivering in his bra and panties for a few moments, still listening to the bounce of the basketball and the shouts of his former teammates from the other end of the gym, then she handed him a tiny, pleated plaid skirt. He stepped into it and slid it up his hips, doing the buttons, then obediently lifted his arms while his mom helped him into a pink, off the shoulder knit top.

His wedge sneakers were traded for white thigh-high socks and a pair of chunky black Mary Janes with a four-inch heel and one-inch platform -- Bobby was familiar enough with his dad’s poorly-hidden pornos to realize Jan was going for a sexy school-girl vibe, but he didn’t even have enough energy left to feel angry or ashamed about it. As his mom replaced his hoop earrings with studs, and centered a little golden necklace with a heart pendant in the perfect place on his bare collarbone, he felt almost numb.

Serena swept through the curtain, and Bobby instinctively looked down to avoid seeing her triumphant grin. “Mom, let me finish up here,” his sister said brightly. “You need a break. Why don’t you go grab us all a coffee?”

Bobby was tempted to grab onto his mom’s arm and beg her not to leave him, but he found he didn’t have the energy for that, either.

“Sure, sweetie,” his mom said. “I’ll be right back, Barbie. You look so pretty, by the way.”

She gave him an air kiss and a dainty hug, accompanied by a slightly worried look, then hurried through the curtain. Serena yanked it shut behind her. Bobby stiffened as her eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in the new outfit. He waited for her to smirk, but instead she looked vaguely wistful, as if she were looking at something familiar.

“Go ahead and gloat,” Bobby said bitterly. “I’m waiting.”

Serena looked him in the face for a moment, then turned her attention to the rack of skimpy clothes Jan’s assistant had wheeled in. She ran her fingers along one of the tops. When she finally spoke, it was in a low voice.

“I’m sorry.”

The two words hit Bobby like a bolt of lightning: he had never heard Serena apologize to him for anything, ever, in his entire life. For that matter, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her apologize to anybody else, either. He stared at her, uncomprehending, but she was keeping her gaze on the clothing rack, carefully inspecting a skirt.

“I brought Jan in because I knew this is the kind of shit he loves,” Serena said flatly. “A fresh young model, all wide-eyed and innocent, that he gets to play with like a little sex doll on camera. Having you flirt with the guys, making you touch them, all that stuff. It gets him off.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes. All the anger his defeat had drained out of him earlier was on its way back. “Bullshit,” he snapped. “You planned all this.”

“I know,” Serena said. “And I brought Jan in because he’d go along with it. And maybe for another reason, too.” She fiddled with the frayed hem of the skirt. “I thought it would feel different, being on this side of it for a change. You know, behind the camera? But for some reason I still feel like shit.” She finally met Bobby’s eye, and he was stunned to see a glimmer of tears. “Shoots like this wrecked me when I was younger,” she said. “Lots of girls wouldn’t do this. You don’t have to do it.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s end it and go home. Right now. I’ll deal with Jan.”

Bobby’s mouth fell open. After tormenting him for weeks, his sister was actually extending mercy. Waving the white flag. She was willing to let him end this miserable photo shoot early, and maybe that meant she was willing to give up on her campaign of making his life a living hell. He was a heartbeat from accepting when he heard the voices of his teammates again. He flashed back to the humiliating lay-up, to their faked enthusiasm for him.

Serena was offering this because she pitied him, and Bobby was done being pitied for the day.

“You know, big sis, I think you’re just jealous,” he said through gritted teeth. “Because Jan thinks I’m way hotter than you.”

Serena’s face twitched. She almost laughed for a moment. “You little idiot,” she said. “Jesus Christ. You think it stops with him patting your ass and kissing you on the cheek?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bobby snapped. “He’s freaking gay.” He glared at her. “Kimberly said you would try this shit. Try to manipulate me. Well, it’s not going to work.”

Now Serena actually did laugh, a harsh, broken laugh that he’d never heard before. “Oh, Barbie,” she said. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

The two siblings stared at each other for a moment, then Jan’s distinctive voice rang through the gym: “Where’s my Barbie doll? Where is she?” A second later the photographer came bursting through the curtain, camera in hand. “Honey, I was looking at some of the shots we got, and they are absolutely fierce,” he crowed. “Now, we go into the present! You’ve shed your boyish cocoon, and emerged from the chrysalis as a vibrant, feminine butterfly!”

Bobby turned to his sister and gave her his prettiest, most perfect smile, even as Jan wrapped his arm around his waist. “That’s me!” he chirped, looking Serena right in the eye. “I’m a total butterfly!”

Her expression shifted from disappointment, to anger, back to its usual icy indifference. Bobby let Jan loop arms with him and lead him away.