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Editor Note: The images used for this story were purchased and used under royalty-free license* from Istockphoto.com . ~Sephrena
Author Note: Please email me at AngelJediGirl (at) gmail (dot) com before posting this story to any other site. Posting to a pay site is prohibited.

Comments and suggestions are also welcome at the above email address.

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Chapter 26 - What's Wrong With Me, Doctor?

I had just sat down to eat dinner with my family when my phone started to ring. I got up from my seat and quickly walked over to the table where I had set my purse. Digging inside I finally found my phone and looked at the caller ID.

Josh was calling!

I gasped, and everyone at the table turned toward me.

"Everything alright, honey?" Mom asked.

"It's...it's Josh Holliday!" I replied nervously.

"How did he get your number?" Dad asked. I really didn't want to answer that question. I was certain he would be upset that I was giving my number to boys. Ever since the date I had with Josh last Saturday he'd been very protective of me. I was beginning to realize that Dad was treating me as his little girl, not the boy I had been two weeks earlier.

"I don't know," I lied. The phone stopped ringing and I panicked again! I hadn't answered Josh Holliday's call! What would he think about me now?

"Well," Dad said, noticing the silence. "You can call him back after dinner. Right now, eat."

With a lot of excitement at the prospect of talking to Josh later, which surprised me, quite frankly, I sat down to finish dinner.

*  *  *

I nearly hung up after the second ring. I was so nervous that I was almost frantic. I still couldn't believe that I was returning Josh's call! This girl thing was only two weeks old, yet I was falling into it so easily that it scared me.

I wasn't sure why I was so nervous. I'd spent the whole night with him last Saturday, but things had changed since then. Last week I was still trying to figure out if I was Megan or Brett. This week I knew for certain.

But that didn't mean I completely understood what I was going through. I still had no idea what the future would hold for me.

My thoughts were interrupted by a click and a slightly muffled, "Hello?"

"Josh?" I asked the unknown voice. It sounded like him, but there was a lot of loud noise on the other end, possibly music.

"Hello?" He said again. "Who's this?"

"It's Sarah," I said louder.

"Sarah?" he asked for clarification. Before I could respond he continued. "Hold on, let me get somewhere quieter."

I waited patiently for a few moments as the noise started to die down before suddenly cutting off completely.

"Sarah?" Josh asked again. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah," I replied. It was definitely much easier to hear him now.

"Sorry about that," he said. "A friend took me out to this new club, and it's really loud in there. What can I do for you?"

"I saw you called earlier, and I thought I'd return the call," I explained. "I think I was eating dinner at the time."

"Oh, yeah," he remembered. "I got your number from Don's daughter, Maren, I think."

"Megan," I corrected almost immediately and without thought. I didn't know why, but it seemed important that Josh knew my real name, even if he didn't know it was mine.

"Yeah, Megan. Anyway, I hope it was okay that she gave it to me."

"It is," I told him. "I was hoping she could get it to you, because I didn't have your number either."

He thought about that for a second. Had I really just told him that I had wanted his number? I hoped he didn't read too much into something I wasn't quite sure of myself yet.

"Anyway," he said, ignoring my fears if he had even realized them. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your first concert. I talked to Don this afternoon and he said you would be able to do it."

"Yeah," I said excitedly. "I actually have six songs now. It's already been a whirlwind trying to learn them. I just hope that I'll be ready by the time the concert starts."

"You're an amazing girl, Sarah," he told me. "I'm sure you'll be more than ready."

He really didn't know anything about me, much like I didn't really know anything about him. I was pretty sure his statement was based more on his feelings for me than for any real information he had about who I really was. But I took the compliment for what it was.

"Thank you, Josh," I told him. Now that I was actually talking to Josh Holliday, I wasn't really sure what to talk about.

"How's the weather there?" he asked me after a slight silence between the two of us. I was saddened to realize he was asking me about the weather. He must have been almost as nervous as I was.

"It's, uh, pretty much the same as yours, I guess," I told him. "I do live here in the LA area, you know."

Dad and I had come up with a back story before we'd ever signed a contract. I'd even told it to Daren Stockard that first day Sarah made an appearance. I couldn't change it now.

"Oh," he said somewhat surprised, like I knew he would. "I figured you lived somewhere else when you weren't at Don's the other night. Maren..."

"Megan," I corrected again.

He continued, using the correct name this time. "Megan said she didn't know where you lived but only stayed at her house when you were in town."

"I don't think she knows where I live," I explained. It was a true statement. We hadn't actually discussed where Sarah's make-believe home was. I hoped he didn't ask. "I only go over there to get dressed up. The stage outfits are a little more...glittery than what I normally wear. It helps keep the neighbors from being too nosy."

He laughed at my explanation, but he at least seemed to buy it. He was getting closer to the secret than I would like him to.

"So where do you live?" he asked. Of course he would ask. Why did he have to ask!?

"Oh, I live in..." Think, think, where would Sarah live?

"Malibu!" I exclaimed, probably more excitedly than I should have. Granted, Malibu wasn't exactly in Los Angeles, but it was close enough. I'd always thought Malibu would be a perfect place to live. Now I could. Well, sort of.

"Cool," Josh said. "I always liked Malibu."

Before he could say anything else, I heard someone else start talking to him. He seemed to argue with the other person before speaking with me again.

"Look, Sarah," he said. He seemed disappointed now. "It's my friend's birthday tonight and he's upset that I'm spending all my time talking to you instead of him. Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Um," I was slightly relieved that our conversation was ending, but I was also slightly disappointed too. I was starting to like Josh more than I thought I was ready to. "I'm not sure, between school and the studio, I won't have much time. I'm supposed to be recording the last three songs over the next two days."

"You still go to a public school?" he asked incredulously. I remembered then that being able to go to school was one of the reasons we created Sarah Carerra. I really needed to watch what I was saying or I was going to blow my secret!

"My parents figured I'd be able to finish this year," I quickly explained. "I'm not exactly famous yet."

He chuckled, which I hoped meant that he had bought my lie again. "Alright, how about Sunday then?"

"Sure," my mouth responded before I had even thought about it. I REALLY needed to think about what I said when talking to him.

"Great!" He said. "I'll talk to you then."

"Ok, bye, Josh," I said wistfully.

"Bye, Sarah," he said before I heard the click indicating the end of the call.

I sighed. My life was getting even more complicated!

*  *  *

The next morning my mom and I were in the waiting room of one Doctor Holbrook.

I felt uncomfortable sitting there. There were a couple of other kids in the waiting room waiting to see one of the two doctors that the L.A. Gender Clinic employed. Unlike me, they didn't seem to pass quite so well. One of them was wearing a dress. He, or she I guess, looked slightly too large to be a girl. Her face was made up quite expertly and she looked pretty good, despite the giveaways that her size displayed. The other was a scrawny little boy. Dressed in tight jeans and a tight shirt, it was hard to guess which way he was transitioning. I assumed female-to-male only because he had short, cropped hair and didn't wear any makeup. But he could have been a young male to female who hadn't started transitioning too.

Both of them kept staring at me. I knew that I looked completely female. It was two weeks to the day since I had sung at Johnny's party, and I had learned a lot since then that helped me to see just how beautiful I was.

"Are you a boy or a girl?" the small boy finally asked. The large girl leaned forward to hear the answer too.

"I'm a girl," I replied. I really didn't want to have this conversation with them.

"Did you start that way?" the girl asked.

"No," I replied truthfully. This was one of the few places I felt I could truly answer that question.

"Wow," the small boy said. "I hope I can look as good as you someday."

I guess that answered my question about his transition. I was about to answer him and tell him that he probably could with his small size and young age, but was interrupted by a nurse before I could.

"Megan Campbell?" she said.

I stood up and grabbed my purse before smiling and giving the two other kids a small wave and joining my mom near the hallway the nurse was standing in front of.

"Right this way," she said. She then led us down the hallway and into an exam room. She had me sit on the examination table and proceeded to take my blood pressure before telling us that the doctor would be with us shortly.

I was nervous. What if something else was wrong with me? Was there something to be concerned about?

"It'll be okay, honey," my mom said, interrupting the negative thoughts that were starting to crowd my head.

"I hope so," was all I could say.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before there was a knock on the door and an older woman entered. She looked a lot like my Gran, and she immediately seemed to put me at ease.

"Hello..." She consulted her chart. "Megan. How are you today?"

"Good, Doctor," I replied nervously.

She smiled at me. "Don't worry, we'll get you on your way to becoming a young man quickly."

I was immediately filled with horror! That wasn't why I was here!

The doctor looked at my face, and then she looked at her chart again. She then realized her mistake, and said, "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry!"

I was speechless! I didn't know what to tell her. She looked upset now too.

"I'm sorry, Megan," she said again. "Your name is listed here as Megan. I don't usually see people for the first time who have already changed their names. That, combined with how natural you look as a girl made me assume that you wanted to go the other way."

"I..." I still didn't know what to say. I was completely surprised at the horror that I felt at the suggestion of going back to being Brett. It was less than a week ago that I was struggling with this decision. Now it seemed so certain that the implication I might be going the other way was a horrible thought.

"It's okay," I was finally able to tell her. "I just...the thought upset me more than I thought it would."

"I understand," she said. "And I truly am sorry. How long have you been transitioning?"

I wasn't quite sure if she meant the time since I decided to live full-time, or if she meant the six years since the accident. I turned to Mom for confirmation.

"About two weeks now," Mom told the doctor. It was our turn to see the shock on the doctor's face this time.

"Wow," she finally said. "And you've already changed your name?"

"There are other concerns in her life," Mom replied. "The name change was necessary, but the feelings are real."

"What kind of concerns?" Dr. Holbrook asked warily.

"Nothing illegal," my mom said immediately. She was apparently on the same wavelength as the doctor because I didn't even realize that was what the doctor was implying. "Just privacy concerns."

The doctor looked down at her chart again. "I see that you were referred by Dr. Casper. How long have you been seeing her?"

Dr. Casper was Mary. I had been calling her Mary since the first session I'd had with her. It was one of the first things she had asked me to do. I didn't really know her as Dr. Casper.

"Six years," I told Dr. Holbrook.

"Six years!" she repeated. She seemed impressed. "What made you decide to transition now?"

That was not an easy answer. Instead of trying to make it sound like one we told her about the accident and everything that had transpired until now, leaving out the Sarah Carerra part, of course. She'd have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before we told her about that.

She continued to ask a number of other questions before eventually discussing how we wanted to proceed.

"So you're worried about there being something else other than the accident involved in your development?" she asked.

"Yeah," I told her. "My cousin seemed to think that it wasn't normal."

"I'll be honest with you," Dr. Holbrook said. "She might be right. This type of development is unusual in a male of your age who has been through what you have. But it also isn't unheard of. This may be normal, or there may be something else involved."

"What do we do?" Mom asked her.

"I'd like to start with some tests," the doctor said. "I think we should start by ruling out any intersex conditions. If we can do that, then the chances of there being something involved will be small. We can take some blood and then go from there."

"Okay," I said. "When will you know?"

"We will have the results of most of the tests later this evening," she explained. "But one of them we will need to send out to another lab. It could take up to a week to get that one back. I think if we made an appointment for next Friday, we'll know what's going on inside your body. Sound okay to you?"

I nodded, and my mom also agreed.

"Great," Dr. Holbrook said while scribbling on a notepad. She then tore off the piece of paper and handed it to me. "Take this down the hall to the lab. They'll take the blood sample and then you can make an appointment for next Friday at the front desk."

"Thank you, doctor," my mom and I said.

"You're welcome, dear," she replied. "We'll get this all sorted out soon."

She left us with a smile.

*  *  *

I was rubbing my arm when Mom dropped me off at school. As if school wasn't bad enough, I was now slightly lightheaded from having my blood taken. I hated needles, but I think the queasiness was partly because they took four vials of blood. Even if that was a small percentage overall, it certainly took an emotional toll watching it pour out of my arm and into the vials!

I'd missed first period, and after getting an excuse note from the front office I started walking to my locker to get my books for second and third period. I turned a corner and found myself face to face with Jared Lumbart. Jared was one of the offensive linesmen for the football team. He was big, and not the brightest of the bunch. He grinned when he saw me.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little freak," he said. His grin turned evil. I unconsciously took a step backward. "Where you going?"

I turned to run, but he was too fast for me. He grabbed the loop on the back of my backpack and yanked, pulling me off my feet. He let go once I was on my way down and I landed hard on my pack, something poking me in the back from inside. Before I could respond I felt a kick connect with my thigh. Then I could hear the screaming. It was loud and sounded close.

It was me.

That kick had hurt! I turned toward him and saw another kick heading my way. I cringed and shut my eyes, not able to move fast enough to avoid it.

It never came.

Instead I heard another yell, this one deeper and masculine. It was followed shortly by an 'oof' and then a large thump.

Opening my eyes slightly I saw Jared lying on the floor, clutching his side. David Cartwright, the boy I had met outside the principal's office on Monday, was standing over him, glaring at him.

"You're dead, Cartwright," Jared yelled at him.

"You just beat up a girl!" David yelled right back. "Didn't your mother teach you better manners than that!?"

"This freak is not a girl!" Jared screamed. A few of the classroom doors were now opening and a number of teachers came rushing out.

"What's going on here?" Coach Madsen nearly yelled his question as he ran up to us. He was the first teacher to reach us, and unfortunately he was also the football coach. I figured he wasn't going to side with me on this one.

"This freak attacked me!" Jared yelled, pointing at me. "I was only defending myself."

Coach Madsen's face hardened at Jared's words. It seemed likely to me that he would trust his own player, but it looked like he didn't believe Jared. Before he had a chance to respond, David was screaming back at Jared.

"That's a lie!" David yelled. "I saw the whole thing. She turned the corner, saw you, and started to run. You yanked her back, threw her to the ground and kicked her!"

"Is this true?" The coach asked Jared. Jared didn't need to answer; his coach could see it in his face. "I warned all of you, Jared. I'm afraid we need to go to the principal's office."

"But he hit me!" Jared yelled, this time pointing at David.

"And it sounds like you deserved it!" Coach Madsen yelled back at him. "What were you thinking? You don't treat girls like that, Mr. Lumbart."

"But he..." Jared started, looking at me again.

"She!" Coach Madsen interrupted. After the way the football team had treated me, I wasn't expecting him to be on my side.

It looked like Jared wanted to say more, but he wisely shut his mouth. Coach Madsen then turned to me.

"Are you okay?" he asked. He reached out his hand to help me up.

"Yeah," I said, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me up. I yelped when I tried to put weight on my left leg. With a grimace, I said, "I'm fine."

He didn't believe me.

"Mr. Cartwright, please escort Megan to the nurse's office," he said. "Jared, come with me."

It looked like Jared was going to protest, but instead he got up and followed the football coach toward the principal's office. David reached down and picked up my backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" David asked me, ignoring the stares of the other students and teachers crowded around us.

"Yeah," I told him, but winced when I tried to take a step to prove it. My thigh really hurt. The only upside was that I didn't think anything was broken.

"Come on," he said and pointed in the direction of the nurse's office.

I took another step, and the pain was a bit less pronounced. I hoped it was one of those 'walk it off' injuries. I was afraid that David was going to try to help me walk, but he seemed happy enough to walk next to me instead.

I looked over at him. He was grinning at me, much like he had on Monday. He must have learned the truth about me now, but he was staring at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable.

"You're an enigma, you know," he finally said after we had walked about half the distance in silence.

"Why?" I asked.

"You're so beautiful," he replied. "They say you used to be a boy, but I find that insane. There's no way that could be true."

I was shocked! Even though he seemed to know the truth about me, he didn't believe it. That was both refreshing and scary at the same time. I didn't know how to respond, and we ended up walking the rest of the way in silence.

He seemed reluctant to leave me with the nurse, but eventually he spoke again.

"I'll see you around, Megan," he said. He grinned at me again before walking away.

I sincerely hoped I didn't ever see him again, even if he was my hero of the day. I turned and opened the door to the nurse's office. Mrs. Pratchett, the little old lady who had acted as the school's nurse for many years, looked up at my entrance. She looked somewhat surprised when she recognized me, but the shock left her face quickly and was replaced with concern. I'm sure she'd seen the wince that had crossed my face at her look and assumed that it was from physical pain. It wasn't.

"What can I do for you, dear?" she asked me. She stood up from her desk and approached me.

"Um," I started. I was at the nurse's office like Coach Madsen wanted, but I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do. I mean, my leg was starting to feel better now. "I'm not sure, I was told to come to your office, but I think I'm probably okay. I'll just go."

"No, no," she said while opening the door further. "Please come in and have a seat."

She pointed at a chair along one wall and I shrugged and walked over to it and sat down. If nothing else, it would keep me out of class longer.

"Why were you sent here?" she asked. The concern was evident in her eyes once again.

"Well," I started. "I kind of got kicked in the hall. It's probably just a bruise, I'll be fine."

"Don't be so modest, Megan," I heard from the doorway. I hadn't heard her approach, but Ms. Carson, my first period teacher, was standing there. She turned toward Mrs. Pratchett before speaking. "According to one of the other students, she was knocked to the ground and then kicked in the left thigh pretty hard."

"In or out then, Dorothy," Mrs. Pratchett said. "We better take a look and we don't need the whole school looking in."

I groaned. The last thing I wanted to do is take off my pants in front of women I hardly knew! But I was sure old Mrs. Pratchett wouldn't let me leave until she was sure I wasn't injured. I heard the bell ring indicating the end of second period, which seemed to be the deciding factor for Ms. Carson. She stepped into the office and closed the door.

"Off with your pants," Mrs. Pratchett said in a matter-of-fact manner. She turned and locked the door to guarantee us some privacy.

"Um," I said, struggling to find a way out of this situation. When I couldn't think of anything I decided the easiest way to get through this would be to comply. "Do I need to take them off or can I just pull them down far enough to see?"

Mrs. Pratchett sighed like I was being inconsiderate of her time. "Pull them down then. Just let me take a look and make sure you're okay, and you can get back to class."

I was embarrassed to do so, but I unlatched the belt to the jeans I was wearing, unbuttoned the button, and then slid them down my legs far enough to see where I had been kicked.

There was an intake of breath at my actions. I could certainly see why. The skin on my thigh was already starting to darken and the unmistakable hue of a large bruise was settling in. I wouldn't be wearing any short skirts for the foreseeable future.

But when I looked up at the two ladies in the room, I noticed that their attention was not directed on the bruise, per se. They were both looking slightly to the left with astonished looks on their faces. Glancing back down I realized they were staring at my panties. Sure, they were light pink with a bit of lace around the waistband and the legs, but they weren't anything out of the ordinary.

"What?" I finally had to ask. I still wasn't even sure that they had seen the bruise they were so adamant about checking on.

"Nothing," Ms. Carson said incredulously. "It's just...well, I thought you were a boy."

I sighed again. Like every other pair of panties I'd worn since the day of the accident, there was nothing to be seen that indicated I was not the girl I appeared to be. The doctors had been able to save some of what defined my old sex, but it was almost a redundant effort. There simply wasn't enough left to do much but break the image when I was naked.

"Well," Ms. Carson finally continued after Mrs. Pratchett had regained her composure and started looking at the bruise. "You certainly fooled everyone into thinking that you were a boy."

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