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didn’t like where this was going.
    â€œAnd what do you think?” Kia asked.
    â€œI don’t know… I hadn’t really thought about it and — ”
    â€œNick… Kia?” my father’s voice came echoing up the stairwell.
    â€œWe’re up here!” I yelled back.
    â€œHurry up!” he called out. “Everybody else is waiting by the door to the reception hall. I’ll wait for you down here at the bottom!”
    â€œWe have to go, Kia,” I said.
    â€œOkay,” she agreed.
    We started down the stairs. I led and looked back over my shoulder. Kia kept one hand on the railing as she carefully, and slowly, moved down the stairs. It looked like walking was a real effort, and she was very deliberate as she placed a foot on each step.
    â€œI don’t know why my mother packed these things,” Kia said.
    â€œYou didn’t know she’d put those things in the bag?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “She always packs my bag — correction. She always
used
to pack my bag.”
    â€œBut you knew we had to have dressy clothes,” I said, “so what did you think she was going to pack for you?”
    â€œDressy clothes doesn’t mean a dress, you know. The first time I ever saw this dress is when I opened up my bag. She must have gone out special to get it. Why would she do something like that?”
    I had a few ideas. Kia’s mother was pretty cool about Kia being in basketball, but I’d once overheard her telling my mother that sometimes she wished that Kia did more “girl” things. I’d nevertold anybody, even Kia —
especially
Kia — about what I’d heard.
    Besides, as far as I was concerned, “girl” things were anything a girl wanted to do. This wasn’t like the olden days when boys played sports and the only thing girls played was dolls. Of course, the same was true for boys. If a boy wanted to take up dancing that was all right with me. Not that I’d ever admit it to anybody, but I would love to bust a move the way those guys in rock videos do.
    â€œI feel like such a
girl
in this get-up,” Kia said.
    â€œKia, I’d hoped you’d noticed before this, but you
are
a girl.”
    â€œI know I’m a girl, but I’m not a
girl
.”
    â€œDo you want to run that one by me again?” I asked.
    â€œWhat don’t you understand? I know I’m a girl, like female, but that doesn’t mean I have to be a
girl
.”
    â€œGee, thanks for explaining that so clearly,” I snapped.
    â€œSometimes you’re so dense,” she said, and let out a big sigh. “It’s simple. I’m female, but I’m not like those stupid girls – you know the ones in our class – who wear dresses, and read stupid fashion magazines and wear nail polish and act so… so…
girly
. Can’t you just picture Mandior Amy in this dress?”
    I actually could picture them wearing Kia’s dress because those two almost always wore dresses to school.
    â€œSo do you understand now?” Kia questioned.
    â€œI think I get the idea,” I admitted.
    â€œWhat took you two so long?” my father asked as we hit the bottom of the stairwell.
    â€œYou wanna try to walk in these things?” Kia questioned.
    â€œI still think you look lovely. You should think about dressing like that more often,” my father suggested.
    Kia glared at him with a look that could have melted metal, but she kept her mouth shut. She took a couple of steps and tripped, my father grabbing onto her as she started to tumble toward the floor.
    â€œGotcha!” my father called out as he made the catch.
    â€œStupid shoes!” Kia muttered.
    â€œYou just have to get used to them. Your mother wears heels, doesn’t she?” my father asked.
    â€œAll the time.”
    â€œHaven’t you ever tried them on?” my father asked.
    â€œI don’t