Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 27.

Simon gave me a very strange look, "Not all men are predatory animals wanting to rob young women of their virginity."

"How do you know I'm a virgin?" I said sniffily.

"Shall we say it's fairly obvious," he softened his look into a benign sort of smile.

I sat pouting. I was so confused by the speed at which things were happening. I mean this time yesterday, I was in lectures thinking about my research project and my bike ride. Now look at me, dressed as a woman with two men wanting to date me and possibly have sex with me. Despite Simon's reassurances, I'm not convinced that he is as genuine as he says.

Yesterday, the idea would have made me ill for days, now I want to excite them, but of course I don't want them to go any further than being excited. That's the hard bit, well they'd have their own hard bits, but you know what I mean, being something of a cockteaser.

Most of my life I've been ignored as a weed or a nerd, the boys think I'm too girly and I suppose, so do the girls. They come to me for help with assignments but that's it. Suddenly, I have two men who find me interesting and while I'm not at all sure about sex, I find it exciting. That stolen kiss by Kev, was the most sexually exciting thing that has ever happened to me - sad or what?

I used to think I wasn't interested, but now I'm not at all sure. I tried to wind Simon up, but he put me down instead talking about my boobs, it made me cross to think I thought I had him excited and then he puts me down, no wonder I was indignant! Humph!

Then reality breaks into this living fantasy I'm in and suddenly it's quite scary.

"So where do you live?" asked Simon pulling away from the kerb.

Reluctantly I told him, and we were on our way. "I'm not sure I want to talk right now," I told him, I had loads of thinking to do.

"Okay," he nodded as he spoke as if to reinforce his agreement, "We can talk tomorrow evening, where would you like to go?"

"I erm, don't know, I erm don't usually have much time for dates," I lied.

"Okay, I'll choose somewhere with good food, bring an appetite."

"I erm, I'll try." I blushed profusely again.

"You don't do many dates do you?" he said pulling up by my flat.

I stared out of the windscreen and felt tears blurr my vision, then shook my head. I felt warm fluid run down my cheek.

"You ought to," he said touching my hand, "a pretty girl like you should never be short of a date."

"I have to go," I managed to splutter.

"Seven thirty tomorrow, I'll pick you up here. Be ready." He leant over to kiss me but I slipped out of the car and ran to my door.

"You forgot your bag," he called from the car.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I mumbled to myself, how to make a complete fool of myself in one easy lesson. I stumbled defeated back to the car, where Simon was standing by the open boot lid holding the overnight bag. I took it from him, and resigned myself for a kiss on the cheek. It never came. "Damn!" I swore under my breath, that's twice he's upstaged me.

"Thanks," I said taking the bag, " for the lift and organising another bike," I felt grateful, just unsure of what to do next.

"That's okay," he said smiling.

Then an impulse came over me and I leant forward and pecked him on the cheek. I stepped back and blushing, turned and ran off to my door again.

"Tomorrow then," was called after me but I kept going. I had noticed my door key in the little handbag Stella had given me, so I let myself into my bedsit.

I was relatively lucky, the building was owned by a trust which was so inter-related to the uni, that they were hard to separate. However, it meant that rents were reasonable and I hadn't had to borrow as much as I thought I would. Actually, that's not true, I had borrowed the full amount some of it was lying awaiting repair in the bike shop. Well most of my peer group use their student loans to finance local breweries, mine is bike shops and the odd dress shop, mostly on line.

I sat in the chair waiting for the kettle to boil, my heart was thumping from running up the stairs, thank goodness no one else was around. I had to take stock, how had I got myself into this mess? By getting knocked off my bike and being discovered as having boobs despite my best efforts to hide them. Then being encouraged to borrow clothes and have my long hair cut and shaped and some make up.

Part of me thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world, all my aspirations had come together at once, pity they couldn't do the surgery as well, then it would have been the jackpot.

But, on reflection, it was all too quick. I can't suddenly transform into this 'pretty girl' without preparing for it. Apart from the logistics of the wardrobe I'll need, I also need time to prepare myself mentally for it and those who need to know as well.

My experience of being out and about as a girl was limited to one or two tg meetings, where they all seemed like drag queens or men in dresses and the odd trip to post a letter, usually after dark. Okay, once I spent a weekend in London in role, but it was a mixture of scary and boring.

I remembered I hadn't taken my pill, I went to the bedside cupboard and pulled out the Premarin, from the drawer and swallowed it. I'd had my boost of femaleness. The kettle jug boiled and I made tea in the mug, burning my fingers squeezing out the tea bag. I nibbled on a digestive biscuit as I thought about things.

I'd missed the entire morning session, but I thought if I skipped lunch I could make the afternoon one. I started to undo the jeans, then remembered I had to get the bike while still in female mode - oh bugger!

I fiddled about for my 'fake' union card. I'd been an officer of the student's union last year and was responsible for issuing membership cards. I did one for my alter ego while I was at it, then a fuzzy digital photo and I had proof of existence, sort of. I picked up an account for a mail order catalogue I'd used. It proved where I lived.

I sat down relieved I could find these bits and bobs, usually when in a hurry they remain hidden only to reappear as soon as the urgency has gone. I planned my next move. I would have to walk to the bike shop and collect the bike, then bring it back here because to go on to uni would mean I'd still be in Cathy mode. That was a no no, much as I'd love to do it.

Then I'd have to change and take my clunker, my old mtb, to uni. I would never make it. I would have to call in sick, saying I'd had a bike accident or something. Well it would be telling the truth, just say I'm a bit shocked and shaken up. I wasn't missing that much and I could always do some work on my dissertation, 'On the breeding viability of dormice in sub urban environments.' I know that both the County Council and Department of the Environment, were interested in the outcomes of my study, so there could be a job at the end of it. Things felt a bit more positive.

I needed to swap these jeans for something I could ride in, I had some thin trousers somewhere, which were unisex and if I swapped the boots for trainers, damn the bike had clipless pedals.

I tore open the overnight bag and found my cycling shoes, they were still wet. Too bad, I'd have to wear them, I only had one pair, they were in a plastic bag and didn't smell too attractive except to flies. I pulled out the remains of my racing skins - they were wet too and torn. Oh well my David Millar impressions were over. I chuckled at the thought, he was six feet tall or more I was only five foot seven. He rode the Tour de France, I was knackered after a forty miler, but I was getting better.

I pulled on some socks and my trainers, and for the hell of it used the lipstick and combed my hair. I grabbed my little handbag and popped the ID stuff inside, picked up my cycling shoes and stepped out of my door, I remembered to pack my key so I happily shut the door and as I did so heard one shut behind me. My heart sank!

"Hello darlin' who are you?" came the voice of my neighbour. He was bound to recognise me. Life was about to end, big time.