Angel Dummot-Shunard sat in the waiting room, waiting to see the guidance counselor about getting all the credits he needed in order to graduate. He was in the process of working on a math sheet when he got called in. He took a seat on the side of the desk opposite Miss. Venlo. He hated the way she smiled like nothing was wrong.

"So." He smiled and bit his lip nervously, waiting for her to start talking, but she never took the hint. "What do I need to do?"

Miss. Venlo picked up a folder and looked through it quietly, and smiled back at him. "Angel, you've gotten yourself into quite a situation." He shifted in his seat, as if ready to hear a life sentence, but she just continued. "You didn't get grades in ninth and tenth grad good enough to pass high school on the track you're going."

"Well what does that mean? Do I have to stay back a year?"

"Well there is one other option. If you were to have no study halls and fill every period with a class, you will graduate with just enough credits to pass."

"Okay, I can do that."

"The only problem is, none of the classed you requested will fit into your schedule this year."

"So there are no classes I can take?" All the hope that had risen in his chest suddenly felt crushed.

"Well, the only class you can take this year would be home economics."

"Isn't that like sewing and cooking and cleaning? Like, learning how to be a good house wife?"

Miss. Venlo laughed. "If you want to look at it that way, then yes it is. But it is the only course you can take if you want to graduate with your class. I'm sorry but you have no other options."

Angel rolled his eyes and stood up. "Fine. I guess I have no choice."

Miss. Venlo smiled and handed him a piece of paper. "I'll let Mrs. Smithe know that you're in her class now."

Angel walked out of her office with a sarcastic "Thanks." Thrown over his shoulder.

Angel sat in the back of the class, taking notes. As if being a closet case gay guy wasn't enough, now he had to bake cakes, and learn the proper way to bleach satin. And to make matters worse, he was good at it, and he liked it. Sure, it was a stupid, but it was also the only way he was going to pass.

The teacher told all the students to stand up in front of their desks. "Okay class, we're starting a new project. We're going to sew the dresses for the school play!" Some of the girls were thrilled by this, others rolled their eyes. Ohh, and another thing, Angel was the only boy in this class. "Now, since the dresses are fairly simple, you only need to get into groups of three, so pair up." The girls began scrambling to get into the group with their friends, as Angel slid onto his desk, swinging his legs.

Once everyone was pretty much set in their groups, and Angel was still just sitting there, two girls walked over to him. Sure, he knew them, but he had never talked to them. One was named, Shelly, if he was remembering right, and he wasn't sure about the other girl's name. The one he thought was Shelly walked up to him, with the other girl trailing behind. "Hey Angel." She appeared to know him. "You want to be in our group? We still need one more person, and everyone else is taken."

Angel slid off his desk. "Sure." So after they got the packet of information on the dress they had to make, Angel, Shelly, and Debra (That was the other girls name) set to work on designing it. Angel sat a bit to the side, just putting in his thoughts on colors, and the little things, but when the other two started designing a really ugly green dress, Angel fully took over. "The play's set in the twenties. Nobody would ever wear that in the twenties." Lucky for him, the girls went with everything he had to say, and were even enthusiastic about it.

Well, the play was in one month, so after four weeks of working on this dress, it was complete. They were even having a fashion show with the people from the play, just a small one in the classroom with the people who mad the dress. Angel, Shelly, and Debra were in the back of the room, waiting for Melissa, the girl who would be wearing the dress in the play, to come back and get her dress, when someone else cam back. "You're not Melissa."

"I know. Melissa's sick."

"Then who's gonna wear the dress?"

"That's for you to figure out." The girl walked away, and the three partners looked at each other.

"Well, one of you could wear it." Angel was trying to be helpful.

"Not me. I'm too fat for it." Shelly held the dress up to her and frowned.

"You're not fat."

"I'm obviously fatter than Melissa."

"I can't wear it either. I'm like a foot too short." Debra held the dress. Where it should have gone to the knees, it fell to her ankles. She put the dress down, and the girls looked at each other, smiled, and looked at Angel.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "What?"

"Angel, you can wear the dress!"

He laughed at them. "No I can't!"

"Why not! You're the same height as Melissa, and you're waist is only two inches smaller than hers. It'll fit you perfect!"

"Well ya, but I'm a boy."

"So?"

"Boy's can't wear dresses."

Shelly crossed her arms to match Angel's. "Yes they can, they just don't."

"Come on Angel. The presentation is twenty five percent of our grades. If you don't wear it, we're all gonna fail this class."

"Are you kidding me?" Angel couldn't afford to fail this class. "Fine, I'll do it, but I'm not happy about it." Okay, so maybe he was, a little. The girls hugged him, and left him to get dressed. He put on the dress, and looked in the mirror. Wow. I look really good. And it's comfy too. Angel very slowly, after Shelly and Debra explained the situation to their teacher, and she said it was okay, walked out in front of his class mates. They didn't laugh, or make faces. They applauded him for being so brave, and complimented the dress. So maybe it wasn't so bad. Angel kept wearing dresses, not really caring what everyone else though, but still welcoming the compliments.