Zoe closed the bedroom door behind her after handing off a pair of boots to a person who, for the moment, was still her younger brother. Then she sighed.
Proudly displayed on a hanger against the outside of her closet door, the cheerleading uniform was staring her down. "It's game day," a voice inside her head told her, "you have to wear it to class on game day."
A part of Zoe wanted to crawl back into the far end of her closet, to those clothing items that were more than two days old, but which she had not put into a box that said "FOR JON." It was still a respectable collection of black fabrics and ornate designs. Maybe she could break of this deal with Sarah, just go full goth again.
But even if she could let Sarah down, deep inside something wouldn't allow her to let the other cheerleaders down. To let the school spirit down.
With another heavy sigh, Zoe pulled the uniform off of the hanger and pulled it onto her own body, unfamiliar dances and routines playing themselves in her head as she did so. She could remember what it felt like to execute every single move. That afternoon, she would be expected to execute every single move.
The dour demeanor on the cheerleader's face stood in stark contrast to the brightness of her uniform as she descended the stairs, at a quick breakfast, and left her home. Sarah was waiting to pick her up again, but there was another girl in the car with her, and they seemed to be having a lively conversation. Zoe rounded the front of the car and entered the passenger-side seat.
"Hey, big sis!" the girl in the back smiled brightly.
Zoe did a double-take. Was that girl Jon? She was wearing one of Zoe's old outfits, and she looked a little like Jon, and he'd certainly been changing a lot. But she'd just seen him not fifteen minutes earlier. And at the time he was still very clearly a him.
But her wish had been for him to know what it was like to be the little sister, not the little brother. So of course this was Jon. Sitting there like reminder of what Zoe once had been, giggly and happy in her gloomy black clothes with a three-inch memento mori sitting on her belt buckle.
Sarah caught the look and leaned over to her friend. "Hey," she whispered, "just because we gave a bunch of your stuff to Dawn, and just because you're a cheerleader now, it doesn't mean you're not still also goth. You're still you."
Zoe wasn't so sure.
