I thanked her and went into the inner office. Mr. Bryant and my aunt were there, waiting. "Well, well, well," he said. "My favorite student."

That didn't sound good. I didn't want to be the principal's favorite student, did I? "Am I in trouble?" I asked.

No one had ever called me "babe" before (of course), and I wasn't sure that I liked it. In fact, the whole phone call left me feeling uncomfortable, as much as I liked talking with Jerry.

"So...," Mom began, "What are you going to do about boys?"

"Uh, boys?"

"Yes, what are you going to do when boys start showing interest in you?"

"What do you think I should do?" I asked (and I think I managed to sound very innocent).

Dad shook his head. "Your Mr. Bryant told me that in case we were in witness protection, our cover had been blown. I told him we aren't, but of course he doesn't know what to believe. How in the world do you get into these messes?"

"I don't know," I protested. "I don't do anything!"

"It was pale yellow," she recalled. "I could sort of see it through the dress."

"Uh, it wasn't a bra," I replied. "It was a bathing suit."

"Oh," she laughed. "A bathing suit?"

I sighed. How much was I going to have to admit to?
 

"Look, Diana," I said, "I'm sorry I had to tell you no. I wanted to go with you, and I thought that I could." She started to say something, but I put up my hand. "Wait. The thing is, Miranda is smart. She's fun to be with, and she's the same size as me —"

"Come on, Chapters!" she scolded, "Nobody gives a bleep about your bleeping height!" (Yes, she really did say "bleep" and "bleeping"!)
 

"Good Lord!" my aunt exclaimed as she looked at my arms and listened to my story. "How many days is it? Not even four days as a girl, and your life is an adventure!"

I'm glad to say that nothing wild happened in church. No one recognized me; there were no slapstick moments. I think Miranda was a little disappointed, until we ran into the odious Robert outside.

"Hey, baby," he said to me. "Did you get my little gift?"

"Don't call me 'baby'," I told him, "and yes, I did get it."
 

"We'll also get your legs waxed, and we'll take a peek at your chest and back to see if you need any waxing there."

"Waxing?" I asked. I'd never heard of it before. "What is that like? Is it like waxing the floor?"

"Ahhh, yeah, it's a lot like that," Alice said, tongue in cheek. "It's fun, you'll like it."

When I was finally alone, lying in a huge bed in a huge dark room, I felt terrible. It wasn't just the residue of the waxy toy makeup. It was a crippling cosmic guilt like I've never felt before. I don't pray, but that night I slipped out of bed in my Hello Kitty nightgown and got on my knees.
 

"The only thing I want to change," I informed my parents, "is that I want to go to Lou's party on Saturday."

They glanced at each other for a moment, then Dad said, "As Tinkerbell, or Lite Brite?"

"It's Rainbow Brite," I corrected.
 

It wasn't just that she had me trying clothes on. She insisted that Miranda and I change at the same time, so we could open the curtains together. Miranda's face spoke volumes. I knew she felt pretty much the way I did. She was embarrassed by her mother's manner, but happy she wasn't suffering alone. Neither of us spoke, but it was a bonding experience. Like being in the Army together.
 

I wasn't sure how we were going to play it, but when Mom reached into the changing booth and rolled my boy clothes up into a tight roll, I got it: for the moment, I was Juliette.

Alice asked, "How will you handle tomorrow? What are you going to do? How are you going to explain to everybody?"

They all looked at me, and I looked back at them. A slow smile came to my lips, and Alice said, "No! You're not! You... you can't! You're not going to pretend to be a girl, are you!?"

"Stop!" I told her. "It's not funny any more. I never said I wanted to be a girl! Or even pretend to be a girl!"

"Trust me, Marcie-Mark," Jane told me. "I'm your responsible adult. You're in my care. And I'm telling you, this will be good for you. You'll like it. You'll learn all kinds of useful things about girls, and you even can write a book about it when you're older.