TRIAL AND ERROR | short stories + snippets

'Can you stop staring at my dick?' Nicolás requests, turning away from the fitting room mirror. The Primark disability changing room is big enough to fit the both of them but it is a bit tight. 'I'm feeling a tad sexually harassed right now.'

Though he puts on the sort of shit imitation of a posh accent that makes it obvious he's mostly joking, Caleb wishes his wheelchair would absorb him. His ears burn so hot, they might fall off.

'Sorry...'

Caleb looks down at his own groin. His cargo shorts are gathered at his crotch from sitting down which makes the packer null and void.

'D'you reckon I should get a bigger one?'

'Dunno.'

Nicolás drags the cream turtleneck over his head and drops it into the buy pile. He has never owned a turtleneck before but this whole no-uniform thing is forcing him to actually think about clothes.

'You don't want it to look like you've grown a third leg over summer.'

'Second leg, you mean.' Caleb immediately grins at his own amputee joke.

Nicolás shoves down his trousers and immediately laughs. 'Stop staring at my penis!'

This time, Caleb joins the laughter, eyes glued to the imprint in his boxers. 'Sorry. But it's right there.' He raises his hands before raising his eyebrows as Nicolás hangs the trousers on the not-buying side of the fitting room with the rest of the trousers he tried. 'Were you planning to walk about school in your pants¹ or what?'

'I'll get trousers from women's.'

Something cold plunges into Caleb's stomach. 'Why?'

Nicolás grins as he takes a white vest off its flimsy plastic hanger and holds it out to his friend. 'Ass looks better, innit.'

Caleb smacks him with the hanger. 'Whore.'

Nicolás pulls his own Adidas trackies on and tugs a jumper over the vest. He pulls his locs out of the collar and inspects himself in the mirror.

Caleb inspects his trackies. Are those women's? They hang low on his hips, low enough to show the waistband of his non-brand boxers. There's nothing to suggest they're women's trousers but what if someone notices? There's always someone who notices. Is Nicolás really so unbothered by that?

'How many clothes do you reckon we need?'

Caleb blinks to watch Nicolás strip off his top again. He pulls on his worn vest that got handed down from one of his foster brothers and once again has to untangle his hair and necklaces from its collar.

'Dunno. Like one outfit for every day of the week.' Caleb glances at his own to-buy pile. 'This is nonsense! Uniforms were much easier.'

'Remember how you complained about wearing it every single day of wearing it?'

'Well, that was then. This is now.' He jabs an accusatory finger in the air. 'Don't underestimate my ability to complain.'

'Oh, I'd never commit such a crime.'

They fall silent as Nicolás calculates the subtotal he's amassed so far and discards one of the shirts from his pile so he can still fit trousers into his budget. They dump their purchases into the Primark mesh shopping baskets which are just small enough to hang from the hooks on the back of Caleb's chair. Nicolás collects all the things they've decided not to buy to return to the rack outside the fitting room.

Rather than the till, they head to the lifts so Nicolás can look for women's trousers from the ground floor. He strides into the mass of girls splurging their summer job money but Caleb inches his chair out of the lift so slowly that the doors try to close on him.

'I'll wait here.'

Nicolás turns around. 'You sure?'

Caleb nods, manoeuvring his chair against the wall so he's out of everyone's way. Nicolás offers for them to leave and he can come alone another time but Caleb assures him it's fine. He tries his best to adjust his shorts subtly, folds the excess fabric toward his stomach so his packer unearths. He spreads his legs and reminds himself to speak deep from his throat if someone tries to talk to him.

The jewellery and cosmetics section blinds him with its slurry of colours and cheap sparkles. He recognises at least one floral choker made of translucent pink plastic from Daisy's collection. The eye makeup shelves stare at him with dozens of photographed eyes displaying shadows and mascaras.

He inches his chair closer. There are so many options, it makes him dizzy. He picks up a tester eye pencil and jabs the back of his hand with it to leave a black spot before dropping it back into its slot.

'Can I help you with owt?'

Caleb flinches and knocks his knee into the shelf. He looks up to the Primark employee who towers above him and wishes he could turn into water at will and seep through the cracks in the floor.

'What were you looking for?'

'I don't wear makeup,' Caleb snaps. 'I'm a boy.'

The employee arches a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. His glossed lips twitch. 'Well, so am I, pet.'

Caleb drops his stare to his foot but he's too ashamed to apologise. 'I need summat for my sister. It's her birthday.' The lie stumbles out of his mouth. Daisy's birthday is in March.

'She's got a similar skin tone to you?'

Caleb nods though Daisy's skin is noticeably lighter and cool-toned. They don't share any genetics, after all.

'If you're looking for eyeshadow, blues and silvers are the trend currently. And a regular smoky eye but that's a bit boring in my opinion.' The assistant picks a pallet of six different shades ranging from a delicate lilac to a deep steel blue. 'I recommend this one. It's proper pigmented but still blends well. Has your sister got primer? Mascara and all that?'

Caleb wilts. Of course, Daisy does. What is he even doing? Is it too late to back out now?

The shop assistant smiles. 'Let's just get the basics in case. Lucky for you, there's a discount.'

Caleb scrunches his brow. There are no signs about any discounts. The Back to School sale pertains only to clothes. But the assistant plucks things from the shelves and carries them to the till, opening a new spot. The people at the front of the queue start to complain but the assistant ignores them.

'Did you have other shopping?' the assistant asks and Caleb manoeuvres the shopping basket from the back of his chair, leaving Nicolás's to its hook, knowing he'll want a final check before buying anything.

The assistant scans one of his t-shirts and folds it to the bottom of the bag. Then he tucks all the makeup on top of it and covers it with the rest of his clothes.

Once he has paid, the assistant hands the bag to Caleb. 'Have a good day. Tell your sister to remember to blend. Blending is key.'

Notes

Pants: Underwear, short for underpants