SubscribeStar Story: The Flower Boy, Chapter One

Author’s Note: Commissioned by Nicegent42. Thank you for your pledge, and for all the ideas that made this story possible!

Chapter One

“What do you mean, you can’t make it?”

It was the day before Fiona Turner’s wedding. She was by no means a bridezilla, though a last minute snag was bound to make anyone a little frustrated.

Her younger sister, Sophie, stepped a little closer to try and hear more than the single side of the conversation the others in the living room were getting from Heather. “Who is it?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine!” Fiona said, “I bet she’ll be better by tomorrow. Just-” “ . . . We can make it work! Please, Jamie.” “ . . . That’s not fair!” After another brief back and forth, the bride-to-be groaned and threw her phone at the nearby sofa. She wasn’t so worked up that she was going to damage the device without thinking, though she did let out a loud groan before telling those present, “Mia is sick. Too sick to leave the house, apparently.”

“Shit,” Sophie muttered. She flushed and glanced towards their mother, “Sorry, Mom.”

The woman would normally chastise her daughters for such language. In this case, she was more focused on the problem at hand. “So, no flower girl,” she said, also not the type to beat around the bush.

Samuel–or Sam, as he preferred to go by–was lounging in the armchair on the other side of the room. He was the only real Turner in the room, and only half paying attention to the unexpected complication that the other three had just been hit with. Eighteen years old and the only male in the family now that his father wasn’t in the picture, he had very little to contribute when it came to a traditional wedding. For the same reason Fiona wanted a flower girl and a church sanctuary, the groomsmen were all relatives and friends of the groom, and the bridesmaids were all related to the bride in a similar manner. Sam would be serving as an usher, which basically meant, ‘You’re important, but there’s no other role we can give you.’

Not that he wanted to be in the wedding party. Sam was embarrassingly small for a boy his age; standing at barely 5’3”, he was in one of the lowest height percentiles possible. He would look absolutely ridiculous if he lined up with the other groomsmen.

His older step-sister, Fiona, also wanted an adult-only wedding. It was a common enough stipulation that some engaged couples made, to avoid disruptions during the ceremony and potential chaos at the reception. The only exception was her first cousin, Mia. While most flower girls were younger than the tween who had been asked to do the job, Fiona had decided to split the difference by having a slightly more mature girl take on the role. Then, after the ceremony, someone could drive Mia home; the girl was mature enough to be left without a babysitter for a few hours.

The downside to this plan was currently presenting itself. Every other guest was 18+, and it was the day of the rehearsal dinner. Most of their guests would already be on the road or on a plane to the destination wedding; it was way too late to find someone with a daughter who could adjust their travel plans at the last second.

Fiona started lamenting about how the wedding was ruined, how the flower girl and the petals were such an important part of her vision for the ceremony, and throwing out ideas like posting an ad online for a girl who was willing to step in the following evening. Maybe there would be some mother out there who needed the cash, though her daughter would also need to be able to fit into the dress, go to the stylist with everyone in the afternoon, etc. It was a pretty big ask for a total stranger, plus there were no guarantees some random girl would do a good job.

“What about Sammie?” Sophie smirked, “He’s about the size of a twelve year old.”

His seventeen year old sister still held a grudge after all this time. Around two years ago, Sam ‘tripped her’ and she ended up with a small scar on her chin. Nothing that a little make-up couldn’t cover up, but it was still a blemish in a more prominent spot. Fifteen at the time, Sophie was furious. Even though it was her fault for texting while walking around the house, which is what caused her to stumble over Sam’s feet while he was just chilling on the sofa. No matter how he tried to explain what actually happened, she wasn’t having it.

Between that, and the fact that her high school years turned her into a little bit of a mean girl, Sophie never stopped poking fun at Sam’s height. After all, he had basically stopped growing when he was thirteen, while Sophie ended up taller than him by the end of middle school. They were step-siblings, so it wasn’t as if they were blessed/screwed by the same genes, but still. As the only male in the family, it was still embarrassing to occasionally be mistaken as a younger brother.

What they all did have in common was their hair color. To some degree. Sam was more of a dirty blonde; Fiona and Sophie had lighter blonde hair. It was close enough that they could still be seen as biological siblings to those that didn’t know the family, when their parents only got married five years ago.

The problem with Sophie’s teasing was that she knew just how to get under his skin without coming across as rude or malicious. More than once, he had ‘overreacted’ in the eyes of their mother, since Sophie always backed off and played innocent. It helped that she was one year younger, so of course her brother was picking on her instead of the other way around.

In this case, Sam kept his attention on his laptop, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. It was the day before Fiona’s wedding, and he knew that both Fiona and his step-mom, Michelle, were stressed to the point where saying the wrong thing could turn him into a lightning rod when they were actually just dealing with the whole Jamie/Mia thing.

To his surprise, Sophie’s little joke, that she would surely claim was just to lighten the mood if called out on it, didn’t just die amidst the current discussion. “Actually . . . ” Michelle trailed off, thinking about it for a second before offering the idea as a potential solution, “Would it be that crazy to have a flower boy? Sam is on the shorter side. We could find a pink tie for him, or something?” It wasn’t a fully formed suggestion; she was just tossing out anything that might work.

Sam didn’t appreciate the idea. He was a cliché teenage guy in the sense that he wasn’t a fan of pinks or purples. The good news was, he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t into the alternative option. “It’s not the same,” Fiona said. As a ring bearer, maybe, though they had already pushed the flower girl age with Mia. It would be ridiculous to have her step-brother walking down the aisle and throwing petals for her, regardless of his tie color.

Meanwhile, Sophie was still wondering if she could have a little fun at Sam’s expense. It wasn’t as if anyone else was coming up with anything useful, and the flower boy idea *had* been thrown out there thanks to the way she drew attention to his size. “Honestly, I think Mia’s dress would fit him,” she said, trying her very best to sound curious rather than amused at the thought, “Slap on some make-up, fix up his hair? I bet Sammie would be a cute girl!”

“It’s Sam,” he corrected her, not that it was worth the effort. Sophie had been using the immature nickname more and more frequently over the years, even though no one in his family had ever called him that before she picked up the habit. “And I’m not a girl, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Sophie jumped on that response by clarifying, “That’s not what I said. I mean you could be a cute girl. You’re the one who never wants a haircut, right? I bet we could style it like you’re Mia. What do you think, Fiona?”

Again, Fiona didn’t quite latch onto the new idea brought up, since it was a little bit out there. Getting her brother to cross-dress to fill the role? Unlike Sophie, she wasn’t thinking maliciously, and the age factor is what made it difficult for the concept to make sense for her. Sam had just graduated high school; no one would believe that he was that young.

When no one else verbally rejected the idea, Sophie stood up and said, “Come on, it can’t hurt to try. Trust me, we do stuff like this all the time for theatre productions. Why don’t I give Sammie a make-over, and you two keep discussing other ideas. Divide and conquer?” She wasn’t wrong; it was the most efficient use of time.

“Hmm.” Michelle looked Sam over, then considered the idea just like she had done with her own a minute ago. “Okay, sure. Just to see.” Worst case scenario, it would look ridiculous and Fiona would de-stress a little bit from the fun.

Of course, not everyone in the room was on board just like that. “Umm, no,” Sam said. If it had been one of his sisters pushing this, he probably would have scoffed or rolled his eyes. He needed to be more respectful than that when responding to their mother. Still, he wasn’t going to let Sophie get away with some feminine makeover. He knew full well that this was more about embarrassing him than anything that would actually work for the upcoming wedding.

Now that it was within her grasp, Sophie wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away. “Seriously?” she said, sounding slightly incredulous as she glanced towards the others for a moment. “This is Fiona’s wedding, Sam. It’s everyone’s job to make sure my sister has the best day, ever. You’re not willing to try something that might help?”

“I’m not going to put on a dress,” Sam clarified. It wasn’t the first time his slightly younger sister had manipulated things to sound like he was in the wrong, and he wasn’t going to let her make this all about Fiona while conveniently leaving out the part about what he was actually being asked to do.

Michelle knew that it was a big ask. Even if Sam wasn’t as small as he was, there were plenty of boys his age who would be adamantly against wearing girls’ clothes. Instead of letting things devolve into bickering, she stepped in and offered a carrot. Sophie wasn’t wrong about this being Fiona’s big day, and the bride-to-be’s mother would do just about anything to keep her happy. “How about this, Sam?” she said, “That new car you’re getting? Try on the dress and let Sophie experiment a little, and you can have the next tier up for the model you decided on.”

Sam’s father had left him a rather sizable trust, separate from what he had willed to the full family. However, it had been set up so Sam wouldn’t be able to personally access the funds until he turned twenty-five. That way, he’d be a bit more of an adult with a better grasp on how to spend that kind of money responsibly. In the meantime, Michelle had the authority to disperse a portion of the funds to Sam if he requested it and she believed the expense to be reasonable.

Throughout his senior year of high school, Sam had been asking for a car. And, upon graduating, his step-mother had affirmed that they’d pay for half of it with the trust, and let the other half be a gift from her. It still hadn’t happened, since the June wedding had taken up most of everyone’s time and attention over the last month or so.

He was immediately torn. Michelle had already given him a budget, one that was generous yet financially responsible, and Sam had done plenty of research and online browsing since then. He already knew what he wanted; at this point, it was just a matter of making an appointment and possibly waiting until they had the color he preferred. While window shopping, he had longingly looked at some of the add-ons that came with the more expensive tiers, knowing full well that wasn’t happening. Not for a first car, on a smaller budget.

Essentially, he would be getting $10K or so simply for wearing something pink and feminine for five minutes. Objectively, a really good deal. Just at the cost of Sophie forever having the ability to remind him about it; no matter what she said about this being for Fiona, she obviously wanted to see him all dolled up.

With everyone’s eyes on him, he felt pressured to make a choice. “No pictures,” he said, taking a pretty important precaution before allowing his younger sister anywhere near him with her brushes and that dress. “I’m not doing it unless you hold onto Sophie’s phone until afterwards.”

“Aww, you don’t trust me?” Sophie giggled. Not fighting the condition in the slightest, she hopped up from the sofa and handed her smartphone to their mother. “There! Believe it or not, Sammie, this isn’t all about you. Whose wedding is it, again?”

He didn’t need another round of that. Yes, it was Fiona’s big day; that didn’t mean Sophie didn’t have ulterior motives that were obvious to him.

When Sophie practically skipped to the stairs, turning at the base to tell Sam to follow, he briefly considered refusing. Was he actually about to wear Mia’s dress? She was twelve. And a girl. He hadn’t actually seen the flower girl outfit, though he assumed it was bright and frilly. He just told himself it was for the nice car that would likely be better than most of his future classmates at university. Also, he was assuming the dress wouldn’t fit to begin with; as long as he made the effort to put it on, his step-mother would have to give him what had just been promised.

Heading upstairs with Sophie, not as familiar with her relatives’ house as she was, Sam followed her into the guest room that had been temporarily designated as a storage room for bridesmaid dresses, wedding decorations, and so on. Now that it was just the two of them, Sophie could drop the facade a little bit. “Oh, Sammie! You’re going to look adorable.” Still playing it safe in case anyone was within earshot, though she could at least give him a smirk when he was the only one who could see her face. “Here you go!” Easily finding the only pink dress in the closet, she pulled it out and held it up for him to see. “Hmm. Do you think it’s too big for you?”

“Just give it to me.” Ignoring the implication that he was smaller than their little cousin, doing his best to pretend that this was no big deal when they both knew how stupid he would look wearing the outfit designed for a tween girl, Sam took the dress and found the nearest bathroom.

He closed and locked the door behind him, ignoring Sophie’s question about if he needed her to bring him some panties to wear underneath. Once he was sure his sister couldn’t barge in unannounced to check on him, Sam took his first real look at the dress.

It wasn’t actually that bad. At least, it wasn’t as horrible as he had anticipated. The dress was simple in design, with a pink tulle skirt and a plain white top. Still not something he wanted to put on the slightest, though it was better than whatever poofy/frilly/etc. mental image he had assumed from not seeing the dress until now.

Sam briefly considered standing around in his own clothes for a minute or two, then leaving the bathroom and claiming that it didn’t fit at all. Tempting as it was, he knew Sophie would call bullshit, plus he’d guarantee the car upgrade if their mom actually saw him in the dress. Besides, it was already the trade-off he had begrudgingly accepted. Five minutes of embarrassment for years of a better vehicle.

Stripping down to his underwear, he took the flower girl outfit from the hanger and decided to just get it over with. If he didn’t, there was a good chance he’d lose his nerve and back out, better vehicle or not.

One foot after the other, he stepped into the dress and began pulling it up his body, assuming that it was going to be too tight as soon as he reached his thighs and/or waist. Instead, those areas only offered a hint of resistance. To his surprise, Mia’s dress made it all the way up his body, at which point Sam slipped his arms underneath the thin white straps in hopes that his upper body would be the part that didn’t work with the outfit.

With fairly good timing, Sophie knocked on the door just as Sam was taking in the dress on his petite body in the mirror. “Need help, Sammie? Or did you put it on all by yourself?”

“Give me a minute!” he called back through the closed door.

Not that he needed more time to get changed. Sam was stalling for a completely different reason. As he awkwardly shifted this way and that, looking for a reason why the dress didn’t work beyond the fact that he was the wrong gender for it, it didn’t take very long before he realized that Sophie was right about one thing:

The flower girl dress fit him perfectly.

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