“It’s sunny, and I get to spend the day with you. What’s not to like?”
Charmer, she thought. Where was the nerd from school who cowered whenever anyone approached him? That guy was gone. She wondered what could have caused the change. She liked it. He was racing upstairs to her bedroom, as if possessed. She noticed a gleam in his eye, and for the first time was concerned about what he might do.
She found him sat in front of the wooden trunk, holding the padlock as if it were the rarest gift from the gods. Slowly he dialled in another number. 2 – 7 – 1 – 8…
The realisation shook her. While the thought of him opening the chest had been an abstract concept, she’d been fine with it. But now it looked like becoming a reality… “No! Please, no, don’t!” she found herself saying, and threw herself on top of the chest as he flicked the last 2 digits into place: … 2 – 8. The padlock popped open at his touch.
“Ha ha! I knew it!”
“Simon, please, I beg you, don’t open it!” Oh god, what if this comes out, she’d never live it down! She lay prone over the wood, terror in her eyes.
“But you promised?!”
“I know, I know. But I can’t. I’ll do anything, just don’t look inside.” She looked him in the eyes. “Anything you want. Anything at all.” She was deadly serious.
Bloody hell, what has she got in there, Simon wondered? I want to find out, so badly, but she looks so scared… “Okay, fine. You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. But you promised, and I’m disappointed. I can keep secrets, you know.”
He looked so dejected, she thought. “It’s not that I don’t trust you… it’s just you’ll think differently of me once you’ve seen inside. I like the friendship we have, as it is.”
The words lifted his heart. “We’re friends?”
“Duh, yeah?” she replied. “I know I don’t show it at school, because of what everyone would say. But I do like you, y’know. And I want you to keep liking me.”
His heart raced. “Oh Claire, I could never stop liking you.” But like wasn’t the word he used in his head. He saw her, spread across the chest; he could see down her top, her boobs squashed against the surface of the trunk, her perky ass in the air. An image reminiscent of many a porn scene. He shook his head trying to clear it.
She looked at him, considering. He was such a kind boy. Maybe, if anyone, he’d understand. And she really wanted him to know, wanted someone to share this with.
“Okay,” she said, sliding to the floor. “Okay, Simon, you win. We’ll open it together. But you have to promise not to tell another living soul.”
It was an easy promise for him to make. Who would he tell, and even if he did, who would believe him over the most popular girl in school?
“In one… two… three…” and they pushed the lid of the chest open.
Whatever Simon had been expecting, he would never have guessed this. The trunk was full of comic books – superheroes, manga – along with action figures still in their boxes, ticket stubs, pamphlets from conventions… “Some of this stuff is worth a fortune,” he breathed, finally looking over at Claire with an incredulous expression on his face. She still hadn’t taken a breath. “Fuck me, you’re a bigger geek than I am!”
She blushed, biting her lip, saying nothing.
“Some of these things… wow!” he said, picking out a hard shell transparent box containing a first edition of a particularly rare comic. “How did you even get this… I’m sorry, but what the hell, Claire? Why did you keep this from me?”
“I dunno… habit?”
“I can’t believe you like this stuff! You’re so… so…”
“Ditzy and girly and all into boys and fashion?” she finished for him. “You know me better than that now, surely? But I have a reputation to keep up, at school, so please not a word. To anyone.”
Simon didn’t really understand. Marvel had spent years making this stuff mainstream. What was there to be ashamed of? Maybe in our parents’ day this would have been weird, but today surely it would have been stranger not to at least enjoy the movies?
“What’s this?” he asked, digging a bit deeper into the box. There was a heavy duffel bag tucked into a corner.
“Oh, I don’t think you’re ready for that,” she said, making a snatch for it. But Simon lifted it out of her reach. “No more secrets,” he said. She shrugged, and let him look. He reached into the bag, pulled out a fistful of red Lycra, covered with a familiar pattern…
“No, surely it isn’t… it is! An Iron Man cosplay outfit, that is so cool!”
He lifted out the boots, and the familiar helmet. But then on closer inspection, he realised this wasn’t just any outfit. He’d seen this specific gender-bender costume before, several times, in person and online – there were several tell-tale embellishments which he’d spent hours fantasising over in the privacy of his room. “No, you can’t be…” he whispered, and looked over at Claire, who was actually blushing. “I don’t believe it. You’re Iron Girl?”
“Guilty,” she whispered.
“But that’s impossible. She’s… and you’re…”
“She’s what?”
“Iron Girl is like mega famous and super-hot, she’s all tits and ass and legs that go forever…”
“Uh-huh,” Claire said, a slight dangerous tone edging into her voice.
But Simon was so lost he didn’t recognise the warning signs. “And you’re, well you’re pretty sexy yeah, beautiful, but I mean you can’t be Iron Girl, that’s ridiculous! You’re Claire, from school!”
“What are you saying, exactly? That I’m not super-hot? Or that Iron Girl can’t be a schoolgirl? Why’s that so unlikely? Peter Parker was a high school student!”
“I… but…” Simon spluttered. He couldn’t believe it. Claire wasn’t just a geek; she was the Geek Queen! He suddenly noticed the look she was giving him, and realised he needed to do some frantic backpedalling. “Sorry, Claire, but I’m just so shocked. You’re really her? I mean, yes, you have a great figure, I’m sure you’d look amazing in the outfit….”
“You’ve seen me in it. You know what I look like. You tell me, how do I look?”
That was true enough. The nights he’d spent lost in rapt contemplation of Iron Girl; thinking about the way the spandex clung to her ass, her boobs; of the large translucent gemstone that represented the generator, placed strategically in the costume to accentuate her deep cleavage. And all the time she’d been sitting a few desks down from him in science class! It was unreal.
Simon gulped. “You are the most beautiful, sexy girl I’ve ever met, ever seen. I can’t believe it. I’m talking to Iron Girl. I’ve been teaching her science! Bloody hell.” He sat, heavily.
“You really think I’m sexy, that I’m beautiful?”
“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?”
Me, she thought. She wasn’t oblivious to her looks, and she knew what people wrote about Iron Girl on social media – some of it downright disgusting and disturbing, which was at least part of why she wanted this to remain secret. But that was just a costume, just a performance. But in a way, so was her real life. She wasn’t even herself at school, with her friends. With her ex-boyfriends. She couldn’t be; they’d disown her. She was always acting, always had a mask on, playing a role. Simon was the only person who knew about this side of her, not even her big sisters or her parents. Had she finally found someone with whom she could be her genuine self? Hope blossomed, and with it, the first flicker of attraction.