In any case... I had a bigger shock waiting for me.

"Do you know why you're my favorite niece? It's because you're the one who's awake. You're the one who sees every situation as though it's new. You can take something ordinary and find what's extraordinary in it, and you can fall into the strangest, most unexpected situations, and act as though you know what's going on."

When I'd told her the basic story, I asked, "Do you believe me?"

"Well, no," she said. "It's impossible."

"Yeah, but," Eden countered, "— and not that I want to talk you out of it or anything — you know that you don't have to do girly stuff to be a girl. You of all people should know that."

"All the girls had odd names... Dutch names. They were odd for Americans, but maybe quite normal for Dutch girls."

Nina nodded. "Did they all have blond hair and wooden shoes?"

I closed my eyes and relaxed. It was the first moment since I'd awoken that no one wanted anything from me. No one asked me any questions, no one wondered why I wasn't "ready," no one was smacking me on the butt. Of course, I wondered how Cassie dared to do such a thing, but thinking about it didn't help me understand.

She paused, aghast at a sudden thought. "You're not a cheerleader, are you?"

"No," I said. "Never have been, never will be."

"Oh, good!" she cried, with obvious and immense relief. "I mean... not that there's anything wrong with cheerleaders!"

I was grabbed from behind, a hand being clapped over my mouth before I could even scream. I struggled to get free but it was no use.

‘Well, Chambers, I see it’s true that you’ve gone all potty. Hey, that’s funny–potty Chambers, or p’raps it should be Chamber potty!’ He gave out a guffaw of mocking laughter. I recognised the voice instantly as belonging to the bullying oaf, Quinn, and I burst into tears. ‘My mate, Kev Ball, ’phoned and told me you were pretending to be a girlie an’ ’ad got him grounded f’ra month, an’ ’e also said you were gonna to meet his stoopid sister at Angela Williamson’s house s’afternoon.’ Suddenly I became very aware that some other person–I presumed a boy–had put a hand up my skirt and his fingers were exploring my body through the thin cotton material of my knickers. Thank goodness I was wearing a sanitary pad––!

"But what if it isn't?" I asked her. "What if it's not going to be alright?"

She took a deep breath and said, "Then we deal with it. Whatever that means."

"No, it wasn't that..." I hesitated. "It was Ms. Gifford..."

I wasn't sure how much I wanted to say. The real reason I was upset was all the media attention... what it might lead to. What it would have to lead to, if it kept up. If the reporters started looking into my life, they'd find out pretty quickly that I used to be a boy.

This is really the story of a vacation I took in the South Seas, or mostly the story of my South-Sea vacation. Susan would say that it's ostensibly about my vacation. Don't worry if you don't know what "ostensibly" means... it will all become clear once I get underway.

I don't know how those little stories strike you, but... as I listened... at first I felt like a fish out of water. My first impulse was to laugh or to mock, but I was the only one. Everyone else in the room took each story as it was: a candid offering. I'm not saying they were all good; they weren't. But they were all sincere, without guile.

Totally Insane.
by Angharad

“That is, like, totally insane,” I said when Brian made his proposal, “Like I’m gonna do that, like I’m totally crazy?”

“Look, little bruv, if you don’t I am, like, cat food.”

“Why can’t you get Karen’s sister to do it?”

“She wouldn’t be able to get into the lockers.”

“Why me?” I asked almost rhetorically, I knew why.

“’Cos you’re the best, little bruv,” he said slapping me on the shoulder.

“How come, I’m like, only the best when you, like, want something?”

"I'm sorry I missed it," he went on, "but I figured it was just going to be a kids' party, you know? I should have thought... I should have known that Tatum here would carry destruction in her wake."

"My name is Juliette," I corrected. Not that it mattered, because Robert's father just went on talking.

"Do you want a snack?"

"No," I said, putting my hand on my rather full stomach. "I had the hugest breakfast."

"Oh, yes, I forgot what a little pig-lotta you are!" she teased.

She rushed over with a gleam in her eye and what my uncle later described as a "murderous smile."

Uncle Mickey muttered, "Lord help us, we're in for it now!"