The sound made by my high-heeled sandals clicking along the wooden flooring was almost hypnotic. Despite this being the furthest I’d ever walked in heels, and also the first time wearing some outside my own house, I was ‘in the zone’. What had once taken serious concentration to avoid breaking my ankle was now coming almost naturally.

“It’s just one foot in front of the other, slightly crossing your feet from one side to the other in front of you, to make your hips swing out a bit”, I was suddenly reminded of Claire’s instructions, and her increasing levels of frustration with me. “No! You’re not a catwalk model or a drag queen. Stop screwing it up!” My Sister hadn’t often struggled with sharing what she was thinking.

Whilst my technique eventually had reached a standard to my Sister’s satisfaction, now that I was doing it without concentrating, I became aware of a series of sensations that I had not previously felt. It was in fact the short, quite tight skirt of my dress was restricting my leg extension, and not the fear of that broken ankle, as I had previously assumed. This was and also causing the smooth inside of my thighs to skim together on each step. My fake breasts were jiggling in my bra more than I had previously felt, perhaps due to the hardness of the floor.

My Sister never did say where she got them from, but I sure as hell would have been tricked by them, if I hadn’t applied them to my chest.

Then there was my backside. Had the heels acted to push it out as much as that when I was walking around the house? Slowing down to pass a couple of the glazed classroom doors, it definitely caught my eye in the reflection. “Great!” I thought. I’ve been teased relentlessly about my backside over the past five years or so. I’ve argued back in the past, and said that I simply had a low centre of gravity, which made me so difficult to be rugby tackled. “They’re going to be merciless about this!”

The sensations, however, weren’t bad or uncomfortable. Just felt different. I caught myself smiling.

“After you.” said Sarah, breaking the silence, as she gestured towards the assembly hall double-doors. “Deep breath”, she added with a smile, as she no-doubt sensed my momentary reluctance to push the door, and step through into the hall.

“Where is everyone?” she asked to Adam, the only boy in the large hall

“On their way back up from town, Miss. I’ve just group messaged them. Like me, they thought we were meeting at 4pm.”

Whilst I too thought we were meeting at that time, I thought Adam really should quit criticising the planning. It is what it is now.

“How long are they going to be? We’re going to be here all night at this…” the teacher asked, the frustration clear in her voice, as she was interrupted by the loud banging noise of the external doors on the far side of the hall swinging open.

“Right. There you are. Is that all of you? Quickly, quickly. In you come. I’ll remind you later about not using the fire doors to enter the hall,” she went on.

The large group of boys shuffled into the room. Most of them ignoring their teacher urging them to hurry. “No, Miss. There are a couple of the guys still waiting at Subway – they had a problem with their tills”, one of the group answered to their question, “no one could scan their debit cards.”

Sarah just closed her eyes briefly, as if to say “why me?”

Nervously standing two or three small steps into the hall, I quickly realised that most of the boys were looking at me, from where they had congregated in the centre. Of those looking at me, I’d guess that half looked confused, the rest were smiling. They must think I have made a complete clown out of myself.

“Fuck me, that’s Walker!” One of the boys shouted, to be met with groans of confusion and disbelief, and then roaring laughter.

I let out a heavy sigh, and a knowing half nod. I was then left standing there, one leg crossed in front of the other, and my arms crossed under my chest.

Sarah gave the boys a few moments to settle down, before raising her voice, “Okay, okay, that’s enough. Let’s get a few things straight here. First, that language will not be tolerated - I remind you that you’re still in school. Secondly, we’re not on the sports pitch, we use first names in this group. That is indeed ‘Sam’, not ‘Walker.’ And the third and final point, and one that you all really need to understand,” Sarah paused, checking all of the boys were listening. “Sam and Adam have two of the most challenging roles in this play. They did not ask for them, especially with Sam being such an acting novice, but they have not moaned or whinged. They – hopefully just like each of you – have been trying to do their best performance. I will not tolerate any teasing of them. And, just so we’re all clear, this is my script and my casting; I can quite easily find a few more female roles for anyone who ignores what we’ve discussed today. Are we all clear?”

“Yes, Miss”, the boys inharmoniously chanted back. I really hoped they’d understood, rather than just responding to the teacher out of habit.

Sarah looked over her shoulder towards me, and gave me a reassuring wink. I smiled back. It was then that I was reminded that I – like most of the class – had quite a crush on her when she first taught us in Year 8. I think the thirteen year old me would likely have passed out, if she had winked at me back then. I guess she’s still the best looking of the female teachers, but it is slim pickings.

The group of boys then dispersed around the room. Most of the drama society members have been doing this for several years, and I guess they knew what was expected of them. The actors started getting into their costumes, and the backstage support guys started doing whatever is it that they needed to get done. A few of my mates, from class and from the rugby team came over to me. I’d never felt so nervous about to chat with my friends.

“Bloody hell, Sam. You look well fit!” joked Martin. “Or, is it Samantha now?”

“Ha bloody ha. God I wish Sarah had overheard that.” I shot back.

“Sarah?” Mike questioned. “Sounds like the girls are sticking together. It’s still Ms Greenwood for us!”

“It’s heart warming to be reminded just how hilarious my mates are.” This went on for a while, all the time, all of them slowly eyeing me up and down, with strange grins. I had no doubt they were absorbing all of the details, to they had maximum ammunition for the teasing that was to come.

“In all seriousness, I’m not surprised”, Martin contributed. “I mean, you look much, erm, better than I thought you would – not that I’d ever thought what you would look like. But your Dad never allowed you or your sister do anything by half. I remember how he’d shout, I erm, mean, ‘encourage’ you from the touchline. Put 100% into everything, especially if it’s something you don’t want to do, and all that. There’s something bugging me though?”

Oh no, here it comes. I could start to feel myself turning red again.

Martin looked towards Chris, “If Sam can pull this off, just imagine how pretty Chris would look. He’s a big girl before even going near a dress!”

We all burst into laughter. Chris has been relentlessly teased about being a big girl for years. It has been going on for so long, we can’t either recall how it started or identify what behaviour or aspect of his appearance that once might have supported the teasing. It’s basically just how easily Chris is triggered by this, which keeps it going.

The hustle and bustle of the room was interrupted by the external doors banging open again, with the remaining four or five boys arriving after their visit to town.

“So kind of you to join us! How were your sandwiches? So sorry they kept you waiting,” there’s nothing quite as dangerous as a sarcastic teacher. Most of us have learnt to tread carefully.

“They’re only about ten minutes late.” Adam interjected. What is it with this guy, and the timing plan? Ms Greenwood let it wash over her, and chose to ignore it.

The recent joiners merged into the various groups around the hall. Led by Matt Parker, the leading man in this play, and generally a bit of a self-absorbed dick. I think American’s might know the type as a ‘big man on campus’, at least someone who thought that’s what they were. We thought he was a dick.

“Ha ha ha!” Raucous laughter erupted from one of the groups. “Hey, everyone! Parker fancies Samantha!” shouted one of the group members, for the attention of the rest of the room. Matt Parker had apparently been somewhat complimentary about the unknown blonde, whilst he was trying to find out who she was.

With Sarah’s earlier sarcastic comment still fresh in everyone’s ears, few chose to join in with the laughter; opting to tread somewhat more carefully than others. “Well, Mr Jones, Ian, that’s you on a warning. Well done. Any more of this silliness and you’ll be in a female role. Everyone - please ensure that all latecomers understand what we discussed earlier.” She wasn’t in the mood for messing about today, and the room went back to its hustle, although quieter than before.

As Ian Jones passed nearby, he was muttering to himself, “Like to see her try, I’m the prompt.”

A few more moments passed, before Sarah once again made herself heard, “Come on everyone, gather around, quickly now, come on, come on.”

We all gathered around her, Sarah in the centre of a circle of thirty or so cast and crew members. I was stood next to my friend Martin, who gently nudged me to get my attention and said under his breath “What are you doing? Do you know what that looks like?”

“What?” I whispered, without taking my eyes off Sarah in the centre of the circle. I was completely confused.

He looked me up and down out of the corner of his eye. “How you’re standing. The play hasn’t started yet! That’s how girls pose, when they’re trying to look sexy”, he continued, in a hushed tone.

Not wanting to attract Sarah’s attention, I didn’t keep the conversation going. “How am I stood sexily?” I thought to myself. “I’m just standing, aren’t I?” Then I twigged. One leg was bent at the knee with only my toes touching the floor, and was partially crossed over the other at the knee, one hip had my hand on it and the other was sticking out to the side. That’s when I realised my head was tilted to the side, and with my other hand I was playing with the end of my long hair. I rapidly snapped myself into an upright position. More like standing to attention than at ease, but with my arms crossed across my chest. I almost immediately started playing with my hair, slowly twisting it around my fingers.

“That’s a bit better. But, you still look…” Martin’s further feedback was halted by a look from Ms Greenwood that said ‘shut up.’

Although my chat with Martin caused me to miss the start, Ms Greenwood was giving an overview of the plan for the evening. It would be a full start-to-end run through of the play. Minimal interruptions, unless absolutely necessary. Basically, it would be exactly the same as last week’s session, but in costume. We’d have another one of these next week, before our first of three planned performances.

“Is this is?” I thought to myself? Have the others got how am I dressed out of their system already? Are they such a ‘professional’ cast, they’ve just dealt with it? Being so used to spending time with sports teams, I am used to savage teasing. Is a bit of banter and a mate telling me so stop standing so sexily as bad as this gets? Well, that and having to shave my legs and pluck my eyebrows.

“Okay then. If that’s all clear, let’s make it a good one gents!” Ms Greenwood broke into a motivational round of applause, with everyone else joining in. “Okay, if you’re not in the first couple of scenes, please go and wait in the same room as last week. We can’t fit you all back stage, and it’s a good idea to practice us being in the right place at the right time, rather than sitting where the audience will be.” Ms Greenwood concluded.

As I wasn’t on stage early in the play, I started to head off to the dedicated waiting area with about ten others.

“Sam!” called Sarah, before half-jogging over to where I was, near the main entrance door. “The rest of you can go on”, she said, to the others, who had paused when I did.

“Yes Miss? I mean, Sarah?” I asked

“I’ve thought for your costume changes, it’s probably a good idea you do them away from the other boys. I’ve reflected on something you said earlier about your underwear. You’ve done such a good job, some of the boys may find everything a bit, erm, confusing.” Sarah awkwardly explained.

“Okay. Where should I change? The gym? I asked

Sarah had already come up with a plan. “No, the gym is too far to be going back and forth to, and to be honest, I think some parts of the school can be a bit scary walking about on your own, after hours. If you get your other costume now, I’ll give you the key for the room next to the holding room you were just heading to. I suggest you slip off there, when you come back from your last scene in what you’re currently wearing. Does that make sense?”

“Both costume changes? I have three costumes?” I pointed out

Sarah looked confused, “You do?”

“Yes. There’s what you called ‘little black dress for sophisticated party’ on the brief, that’s what I am wearing now. There’s the ‘business attire to include pencil skirt and high heel pumps, and then there’s what you put as ‘vest top, overshirt and jeans for coffee shop. Have I misunderstood something?” I was worried I had got the wrong costumes, and was going to look even sillier than I needed to.

Sarah started nodding, “Sorry Sam, my mistake. I was forgetting the sexy secretary scene. That scene wasn’t in my original draft of the script. Yes, take both those costumes from the gym now, and change into them in that second room, when you need to. See you in a bit, and break a leg,” she gave me a quick hug.

All I could think was “sexy secretary?” I don’t remembering that term being used before.