Eternally North by Tillie Cole

Nice.
    Grrr … I
totally could have kicked his arse!
    “Aww c’mon it was
funny.” Tink trilled. “As if you look like a guy. And you
said yourself that he prodded your titties. How did he not get that
those bazookas are one hundred per cent real?”
    “He probably thought
they were chubby man boobs, after all I do look like a ‘fat
little slut’ , in his charming words.”
    Tink switched off the
hob, and sat down opposite me at the breakfast bar, gracefully
placing a plate of delicious breakfast treats before me. “Shut up,
Wil. Are you honestly bothered by what he said?” seeming genuinely
concerned that I had taken it to heart.
    “I suppose not, but
it’s never nice to be seen as masculine when you’re a girl .”
I exaggerated, and stuffed a comforting piece of pancake in my mouth. Mmm… chocolate .
    “I hear ya. People
often mistake me for a camp man until I speak, and then they know I’m
a whole lotta female perfection,” he said whilst running his hands
down his sides, jumping up and swaying his hips.
    “Keep making
man-centred jokes at me and you will be all woman; I’ll friggin’
castrate you!” I warned.
    “Okay I’ll stop,
just quit with the constant threats to my manhood. It’s my best
asset,” he said with a grin.
    “And where your brain
is, or so it seems,” I mumbled.
    “ Anyway , I
have a surprise for you that’ll turn that pout back to a snout,”
he informed me excitedly.
    “Really? What?” I
answered dubiously. Tink’s surprises often left me wanting or
injured or both.
    “Nope, I’m not
telling you yet. Go and get dressed in something sporty and meet me
back here.”
    “Tink-"
    “Wil, in the words of
Nike, just do it! ” he ordered.
    “ Fine! ” I
relented, storming to my bedroom.
    I am so mature.
    “Oh, Wil?” my
secretive fairy shouted as I disappeared from sight.
    Bending my head back
around the door, I answered. “Yeah?”
    “Make sure you have a
shave. You’re already getting a five o’clock shadow and it’s
only eight-thirty!”
    I slammed my door and screamed.
    I dressed for warmth.
Most people know that Canada gets very cold in the winter, but in
reality it feels like you’re at the North friggin’ Pole and your
next door neighbours are a penguin and a polar bear. We were only at
the end of October and temperatures were already hovering at a
delightful minus twenty degrees Celsius, and a light covering of snow
and ice was adding a sparkly glow to everything.
    I dressed in my pink
puffa jacket, pink Nordic headband with snowflake motifs, and left my
long brown hair hanging loose down my back, exhibiting its natural
wave. I had on three pairs of black thermal leggings and two pairs of
socks, with leg-warmers to match. My gloves and scarf were bright
white to really highlight the stunning beetroot red my face would go
after two minutes in the harsh wind chill. Yep, I was going to look very fetching.
    I walked out of my
bedroom and bam! I was suddenly front row in Tink’s live
version of Olivia Newton John’s ‘Let’s Get Physical’ video.
He too was dressed for the weather, and was sporting a multi-coloured
neon ski suit – an outfit so bright that Joseph and his brothers
would be jealous. He had teamed it with neon green mittens and a
faux-fur deer-hunter hat.
    Tink spotted me walking
into the room whilst he was stretching out his glutes on the
cow-print footrest.
    “Ah-ha! You’re
here. Let’s go shall we, my rasher of streaky bacon?”
    “Where are we going,
Tink?” I asked whilst reaching for my trainers, or ‘sneakers’ ,
as the locals say. When in Rome and all that.
    “No, Wil!”
exclaimed Tink with a growl.
    “What?” I quickly
dropped my shoes.
    “You won’t need
them, pork scratching,” said Tink, pointing at my footwear choice.
“At least not yet.”
    “What are we doing?
And why won’t I need shoes in this weather?” I asked, dreading
the answer.
    He dashed away, and
came running back seconds later with two of the most