Suddenly, they heard a bunch of kids laughing and giggling. They looked towards the playground and saw the kids pointing at them ... pointing at the guy in the flower-print dress.
"This is a public place," a woman suddenly said, marching towards them. "Go do your cross-dressing somewhere else."
"Nicole?" the new jock boy said.
"How do you know my name?" the woman asked. "I've never met you before."
"It's me. Margaret. Margaret Whitaker."
"I know Margaret. She's a good friend of mine. And she would be really pissed off by you dressing up like her. What is it? Do you get your kicks by dressing up like other women?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Just leave. Before I report you to the police."
"But ..."
"Go! You're scaring the children." Of course, that wasn't really true. The children seemed to think it more funny than scary.
Sarah grabbed Margaret's arm and began to pull him with him, but Margaret shrugged his hand off. "I don't need help to walk."
Then they both walked away from the playground.
