When you discover your purpose, you will normally find it’s something you’re tremendously passionate about - Steve Pavlina

I stared at the clouds overhead, trying to force them into shapes that had some sort of meaning. My time would have been better spent sleeping during the allotted time for lunch that we were given. Instead, thoughts of the new girl plagued me. The first I'd heard of her, through conversations with fellow classmates, I assumed that she was yet just another cog in the wheel of mediocrity that made up the class of 2011.

Everyone was all a titter about a new face in the town. I'd seen it a dozen times before: the new person would come in, intrigue everyone until they realized that he or she was exactly like them, and then he or she would be assimilated into whichever clique they most related.

It was an inarguable fact of life.

My hideaway from the masses lay around the southeast corner of the school, where the only shade could be found so close to noon. This far away from the actual lunch room I was assured privacy to rid my thoughts of the lunacy that was a senior's due in high school.

"Hey Angie, it's me."

A silent groan worked its way up inside of me. The high-pitched tinkling voice of a girl. Was lunchtime, my one bastion of privacy, now forfeit?

"Can you just send someone to shoot me, please?"

I turned my head a little to peer around the corner.

"Yeah, it's that bad. It's like I've fallen into some pedestrian hell or something."

I didn't recognize the girl. Her back was to me. However, as far as backs go, it wasn't that bad a view. Her cell was pressed firmly to her ear. My brain finally clicked. It was the new girl, and she was probably updating her friends back wherever she came from about how much life sucks at her new school.

"Everyone is so weird. It's like they're clones from Village."

Leaning back against the brick wall, I cleaned up my single used baggie that once held a PB&J that had long since been gobbled down within minutes of my arrival. The half empty bag of Cheetos followed and I quietly crumbled up the paper sack before heading back inside.

"No, not really," I heard her say.

I shouldered my backpack and whipped around the corner, startling the new girl. What I hadn't counted on was getting startled myself. Blue eyes tunneled through me and then blinked a couple of times. Giving her a thin-lipped smile of apology, I mimed zipping my lips and moved on.

"Angie, let me call you back this afternoon." She said as I walked away. "Hey, wait up."

I turned slightly, but still tried to put distance between myself and the new girl. When I saw that she was specifically indicating that it was me that she wanted to wait I quickly looked around. We were in relative peace; only a few students were milling about the only set of doors that led to the cafeteria. Slowing my retreat, I paused.

She looked me over, critically. Usually, I warrant a casual glance and then eventually a dismissal as unimportant. This time was different. Her expression displayed confusion, her eyes jumping along my body, which set off my innate sense of danger. I'm different from your average high school boy, you see.

Reflexively, I exhaled any breath in my lungs and rolled my shoulders slightly forward, hoping that the gesture would go unnoticed.

"I'm Max," she said upon reaching me.

'An odd name for a girl,' I thought. For a moment I thought of just turning away and saving myself the ache of embarrassment and rejection, but something, I have no idea what, stilled my legs. "Sasha."

Her lips set in mild frustration, twitching ever-so-slightly. I knew what was going through her head. I'd seen it a thousand times before.

"Listen, uh, what I said back there…"

Holding up a hand, I forestalled her explanation. "It was none of my business. You were having a private conversation."

Her cheeks pinked slightly. "It's my first day. I don't want to start any trouble."

I nearly snorted. "Then you might not want to be seen talking to me. I'm one of the town pariahs."

Max's brow bunched in confusion. Her eyes drifted downward again, trying her best to figure out what was different about me. "Those are cool shoes. Converse, right?"

She thinks she's figured it out. I nodded. The way my jeans hung, they looked like regular Converse All-Star's. You've seen them everywhere, for decades. They come in all colors; mine were gray with white shoelaces. However the ones I wore were a little different. Raising a pant leg, I showed her that the high top went up past my ankle, where normal Converse usually ride. The insides were cushioned and comfortable, and pink, but that didn't show at the moment.

A smug look settled on her face then disappeared. She visibly relaxed and moved on to what she thought was safe conversation. "So what are the boys like here?"

My lips ticked. "I guess it depends on what you are looking for."

Max looked toward the cafeteria. "Someone different."

Following her line of sight, I shrugged my head back the way we came. "It's better if we talked in private."

"What's the big deal. You're normal enough?" she observed as she trailed behind.

Once we were safely out of sight, back at my original hideaway, I continued. "Like I said before. You don't really want to be seen talking with me."

I received a curious eye, but she didn't seem inquisitive enough to offend me by pursuing the issue, instead letting me go about telling her in my own time.

"You were right, before, about the sheep inside."

My comment bought a reaction of agreement. "I figured."

"Ninety-nine point nine percent of them are followers, just like the town. If you don't belong to one of the acceptable cliques then you're pretty much where I am."

"So, you're a leader then?"

I snorted. "Hardly."

In the shade of the tree, I was finally able to focus on her a little better. My eyes are fairly light-sensitive. I can see well enough to get by in the glare of the sun, but I'm much more comfortable in the darkness, or low-level lighting.

Max stood several inches taller than me, which should put her in the five-eight range. A careful examination of her roots told me she had naturally straight and black hair that she took very good care of every day. Dark blue eyes attracted me even more to her thin face. In short, I was smitten, and I was equally cursed because of that fact. She'd never be mine. That saddened me.

Leaning up against the tall and almost equally wide old oak, I sighed. "So, here's your chance. Grill me, because after today, you won't want to know me."

Her eyes sharpened on me. "You keep saying things like that."

I shrugged.

Max's face showed serious contemplation, then I guess she decided, with my encouragement, that she could just go for the throat. "Do they not like gays or lesbians here?"

'Close, Max, but no cigar,' I thought. "Not particularly, but they're not rabid about it. There's a Gay and Lesbian clique. About twenty of them, mostly girls."

Frowning at my referring to 'them' threw her off her assumed trail.

Max liked to be right. That was obvious. She prided herself on seeing through the surface, and it was driving her crazy not be able to solve the mystery that was me.

"Did you piss off some cheerleaders? Try to date one of the football guys or something?"

I shook my head. "Nope." Following that up with a cheeky grin set her off quite nicely. I thought I could almost hear a growl somewhere deep in her throat. Maybe I was wrong.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you." It wasn't really a question, but I shrugged anyway.

"It's the little things that make life worth living."

That made her even more determined to figure me out. "So, no social faux pas, and you're not a lesbian." She squinted at me. "I've seen plenty of girls that aren't wearing make up and are dressed similarly, so that's not it."

I snickered, and her eyes narrowed. Feeling sorry for torturing her, I ended the charade. "Max, take the day. Find out my nickname, ask around. I think things will make a lot more sense after that."

Pulling myself away from the tree, I passed her by on the way back into the school.

"You're not even going to give me a hint?"

Turning around, I kept walking backward. "Just one. Earlier, you made an incorrect assumption." I tapped at my temple with a single finger. "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Max."

Imagine my surprise to find her waiting for me out in front of the school after classes had ended for the day. Compound that with the mildly confused look on her face and I questioned whether or not Max accomplished the goals I gave her.

"Still trying to figure it out?"

She frowned while pulling herself away from the brick wall to meet me by the sidewalk. "I wanted to get it on my own."

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "So you didn't ask anyone about me I take it."

Max shook her head. Her eyes tracked to the busses and my avoidance of them. "Do you need a ride home?"

I stopped and looked out at the parking lot. Coming from a lower-middle income family had its drawbacks, the first being that I had to save money for my own car instead of having Mom and Dad buy me one. "Uh…"

"My car's over here."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't an offer. It was just a statement of fact with an unquestionable hint that I was supposed to accompany her immediately. "Thanks."

I hitched my backpack a little higher and winced at the twinge in my back at the weight. Max's gaze moved to the bundle. "Can I help you with that?"

Her offer took me by surprise. "Pardon me?"

"Your books." Max didn't wait. Instead, she grabbed the strap and effortlessly took my burden from me. At my puzzled look, she smiled. "It looked like it was heavy, but I work out. It's not a problem for me."

I almost laughed at the situation, but accepted her offer in the spirit in which it was given. "Thank you."

Halfway across the parking lot, she continued our earlier conversation like it had never ended. "So what am I missing?"

"Hmm?"

"At lunch you said that I'd made the wrong assumption. I still haven't figured out where I went wrong."

Realizing what direction the conversation was moving, I adjusted my thinking. "Whenever you are having trouble figuring out a mystery, start over at the beginning and alternate options to the mix."

One of her fingers lifted from my backpack and pointed to the left. "I'm over there. What do you mean alternate options?"

I turned a little sideways to slip between a beat up Impala and a Volvo station wagon. "Start at the beginning and tell me what you thought when you first saw me."

The car she pointed her key fob at and that made a bleep noise was a Toyota Corolla. I made my way around the passenger side and waited for Max to unsling the two backpacks she was carrying. Opening the doors at the same time, I got in the overly hot car while she swung her burden in the small back seat before climbing in herself.

After securing my seatbelt I glanced at her and saw her face flush with embarrassment. "Max, it's okay. I know what I look like."

She started up the engine and immediately set the air conditioner on maximum. "I couldn't tell if you were a boy or a girl." While I was about to calm her nerves, she continued. "You can't go by hair anymore, since boys wear their long now and yours is almost a chin bob."

I touched the brown hair that was hanging down on either side of my face. It was true. While I tried to grow it out during my short-lived Emo phase, it never really stayed straight enough. The longer it got, the more natural body filled it out making it curl.

"And your clothes are gender neutral, but that's also stylish enough these days."

Glancing down, I saw my horizontal striped, black and white pullover with my white buttondown left open and hanging. Add to that, drainpipe jeans and my All Stars, I could see how clothing wasn't a definite giveaway.

"But your shoes is what sealed the deal. I have a pair exactly like them. They're girls shoes."

I nodded, understanding exactly how she made the wrong assumption. Granted, I already knew all of this, so it wasn't a major revelation or anything. "That's cool. I understand your thinking."

Max looked relieved that I wasn't pissed off. "A lot of girls dress like you. It's not something that would set you apart from the rest of the people in the school, so that led me to think that maybe you did something to tick them off." She shrugged. "Then I just started guessing the most obvious things." Her hands were out, spreading apart. "So, at what point did I go wrong?"

I smiled, but only with my lips. "A couple of places."

She frowned and then slipped the car in reverse before backing up and heading out of the parking lot. "Where do you live?"

I pointed toward the west. "Second stop sign take a left." When she was free, she entered the flow of traffic and glanced over. "Are you going to torture me for the rest of the day or are you gonna spill?"

That brought a small chuckle from me. "Okay." I lifted my right foot and set it on my knee. "You were right about the shoes. They're girls shoes. I wear this particular style because it provides ankle support in my size. If you notice, I have small feet."

At the first stop sign she glanced at the sole and saw the size indicator, five and a half. "I'm a seven," she offered.

With a nod, I continued. "I also have abnormally narrow feet."

I could tell by the look on her face that I'd totally lost her. "What's this have to do with being an outcast? Do people really hate girls with small feet around here?"

The snort that came out of my nose and throat wasn't girlish in the least. "No, they don't care. Did you also notice that the buttons on my shirt were on the wrong side?"

"I used to swipe my brother's shirts all the time. They're more comfortable." That wasn't a point of contention at any time.

She took a left at the second stop sign. "I'm in the third house on the right."

Max pulled in front of the house and killed the motor. "Can I come in?"

I nodded before reaching in the back seat for my backpack.

"I'll get it."

"Thank you."

I was almost amused at how Max was treating me, like I was dainty and needed her help. To tell the truth, it was kind of nice. It was true that the weight of the pack was a strain on my back muscles, not to mention the added weight hurting my knees and ankles. We walked up the driveway and across the pathway in front of the house to the front door where I produced a single key from my pocket.

After entering the house, Max set my backpack by the door.

"Would you like something to drink?"

She nodded. "Water would be great."

"We have soda or juice if you prefer." But she shook her head. "Just water, please. I'm training. Have to lay off the sweets."

That interested me. "For what?"

"Baseball."

I smiled. "Oh, cool. Are you on the school team?"

Max grinned happily. "Yeah, well I will be when the season begins. Starting third base."

Now I understood how she was strong enough not to care about hauling twenty pounds of books in both of her arms. "A jock. Yeah, you definitely need to stay away from me." I laughed afterward and Max frowned playfully.

"I really wish you'd tell me what the deal is. I don't like hearing people put themselves down."

After grabbing a bottled water and a diet soda from the refrigerator I held up a finger. "If you give me a minute to change into something cooler then I'll explain." Max didn't take the hint to stay in the living room and followed behind me to my room.

While I'm not the neatest of individuals, I don't leave my clothes laying all over the place like most teens I've seen. Dozens of paperbacks were stacked on several shelves lining one wall. A small desk with a closed laptop sitting on top was off in the far corner and my unmade bed was centered on the opposite wall from the door. A chest with various knickknacks scattered atop scooted up against a small walk-in closet, which I entered.

"What's with the flag?"

I forgot about the red, blue, and white flag that hung over my door. "My family is Serbian. We're naturalized citizens. All legal and everything. Don't worry that ICE is going to break down the door and haul you away for consorting with illegals."

Her nose scrunched up a little. "Serbian? Like Czechoslovakian or something?"

I shook my head. "Former Yugoslavian, more like."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding and kept looking around my room, confused again.

I took off my buttondown and entered the closet. "We immigrated in the mid-nineties, a couple years after I was born."

"I was about say that I didn't think you had an accent, but you talk differently than most of the people I know."

Stripping off my shirt, I undid the compression vest underneath and sighed at how good it felt to be free and cool for the first time all day. "I learned formal English, and my parents are still adding new words to my vocabulary. We speak Serbian on the weekends, so I can understand what relatives are saying when we visit occasionally."

"That also explains your complexion. You have beautiful skin."

I blinked a couple of times. "Thank you."

"So," her voice changed and turned more serious. "Quit stalling."

After fastening the button on a pair of shorts, I grabbed a fresh t-shirt. "Did you ever find out my nickname?"

"No. I didn't ask anyone anything about you."

Once I was properly dressed, I sighed, regretting the inevitable. "I'm not a girl."

In place of the usual scream of 'what!' I normally get, my ears were met with silence.

"Max?"

She appeared at the closet door, open mouthed and kind of pale. Then she scowled at me and pointed. "Then what do you call those things."

"Those are my breasts. My nickname is 'Tits'."

She didn't know what to think. I sensed that she was feeling a little betrayed at the moment, like I was playing a joke on her. "I have a couple of genetic problems and a thyroid problem. The reason I'm an outcast is because of freshman year gym class." When I started to exit the closet, Max backed up, still staring at my breasts. "I sort of blossomed over the previous summer and my doctor wouldn't give me permission to be exempt from physical education, so when I was in the locker room changing, the other boys saw my compression vest." Which I held up for her to see.

"It helps me appear a little more normal." Finally having enough of ogling my C-cups, Max took another step backward and then turned in place.

"I got beat up pretty bad and then gifted with the sophomoric title of 'Tits'. That's why nobody talks to me. That's why I don't belong to any of the cliques. That's why it is social suicide to even appear like my friend."

We both stood there and I played out the last time I revealed myself to a potential friend in my head. Previously, they just walked out of the door and pretended that they didn't know about my condition or that they had even met me. I didn't really expect anything different this time around.

"If you want to leave, don't feel like you're insulting me or anything. I'm used to it." Ignoring her, I went to my desk and booted up the laptop.

Another couple of minutes dragged on before Max finally said something. "You really are a boy?"

Without looking back, I nodded. "I could show you my penis and testicles, but that would be kind of rude. I've been Karyotyped. I'm just as XY as the next guy. I think I have the hard copy of that around here somewhere."

"Sasha."

Turning in my chair, I saw how miserable Max looked. "Hey, don't worry about it. I didn't really expect you to understand. I'm a freak." She flinched at the way I described myself. "I came to grips with it in my sophomore year. Very few people will accept people like me. So, don't ruin your reputation." I shooed her away. "Go on."

"I'm not exactly one hundred percent normal either."

I almost laughed. "You're kidding. You're freaking gorgeous." My eyes drew down between her legs. "Unless…" I started laughing. "Is Max a diminutive for Maxwell?"

Her glassy eyes brightened a little. "No, Maxine. I was named after my father. I hate it."

That brought a genuine smile from me for the first time since we started this mess this morning. "Ah, good. Scared me there for a second. What would be the odds?"

She snickered and wiped the back of her hand under her nose while rolling her eyes.

"So, what's your claim to fame in the abnormality underworld. Enlarged clitoris, extra toe, third nipple, no uvula, what?"

"What's a uvula?" she asked.

I pointed to my mouth. "You know that thing that hangs down in the back of your throat that seems to serve no useful purpose?"

"There are people that don't have those?"

I nodded.

"Weird."

"Stalling."

"What?"

"You're stalling. I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours."

"Technically, you didn't show me anything."

I reached down and quickly lifted my shirt up to show my breasts for about two seconds then I dropped it. "There."

Max's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure you're not a girl? Those looked a lot like girl's breasts to me."

With a smirk, I countered. "I can still show you my penis and testicles if you doubt me."

It was obvious that she was thinking about the offer.

"You still think I'm trying to pull one over on you, don't you?"

Max's jaw worked a little, but her eyes dropped to between my legs. I stood and walked over to her. "May I see your hand for a second?"

She squinted at me in confusion, but natural reaction had her bringing her hand up. Before it got too far I grabbed it and shoved it between my legs… over my shorts, of course. I'm not a total pervert. It didn't take more than about three Mississippi's before she jerked her hand back.

"Hey!"

"Believe me now?"

"Okay, you're a boy."

I let the 'boy' comment go for the moment. Sure I wasn't exactly the most masculine guy in the world, but I had my pride. "So…"

"I'll tell you when I'm more comfortable."

I just shrugged. With the big show and tell over with, sans the show on her part, I went over to my dresser and withdrew a bra from my underwear drawer.

I reached down and took off my tee shirt.

"What are you doing?"

After picking up the bra, I set my arms through the appropriate straps and with practiced moves attached the hook and eyes in back. "They're big enough. I don't need them to sag as well."

She realized I had made a decent point and didn't look offended that I'd stripped to the waist in front of her. Nodding with approval, she added, "That's… very practical of you. I bet most guys would feel…"

"Emasculated? Less than a man? Like a transvestite?"

Her lips pursed. "I was going to say scared of wearing girls clothes."

"Yeah, well…"

"So why the girls shoes? If you're wearing that vest thingie, I assume that you're trying to pass as a guy, as much as possible."

"I have small narrow feet. I told you this already. It's impossible to find guys shoes in my size. They're too wide. Even the kids shoes. I was wearing spider-man shoes up through my freshman year. You can't imagine the amount of teasing that your peers can produce until you wear kids shoes to school."

After sitting down again, I continued. "Plus I need the ankle support. So it's either those or boots. And there are not a lot of boots in the girls section that don't have heels, thus making it impossible as unisex decision."

Max's face was a jumble of indecipherable emotions. Finally she looked at her watch. "My dad's going to have a coronary. I need to get going."

My heart sank once more. "You don't have to worry about ignoring me tomorrow."

She made a face at me. I was beginning to think that her frown was a permanent state of being for Max. "I'm not going to ignore you."

It really seemed too good to be true. That's exactly the reason that I didn't get my hopes up. "Well, just in case you change your mind."

Ignoring me was her last telling point for the day. "What time do you leave for school in the morning?"

I was thrown off by the question. "Uh… about seven-fifteen."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

The next morning found me trussed up again in my compression vest. I sighed when I finished hooking the last eye. The hatred I held for the garment was palpable. In order to compress my breasts to the point where they somewhat emulated a young man's chest took extra effort. That where my mother came in. She purchased two vests and dismantled the eye/hook portions of one. Then she sewed them together, in effect doubling the thickness and tensile strength of the garment until it was able to press my breasts virtually flat. The end result still wasn't perfect. If I didn't wear a tee shirt and my traditional loose button down then two flat, round mounds would still be visible.

The worst part was that it was very tight, which meant that I couldn't go running or play any sports, or even get overly excited for fear of losing my breath. But it was my decision, my choice to submit myself to this daily torture in order to look 'normal'.

One other side effect of wearing the vest for seven to eight hours a day since I was thirteen, was the development of my upper torso. The first year wasn't so bad, since I was hanging around the A-B-cup range, but by my sophomore year I was a full C-cup and that's when the heavy duty vest came into being.

The problem was that my upper body was restrained in development while my lower body developed normally. I'm not saying that I stopped growing, it just wasn't as fast, so I wound up shaped like a pear -- straight and narrow from my navel on up, and my hips wound up a little wider in comparison. I didn't have a girls butt or anything, but when viewed from the front, I had their general shape, especially when my breasts were free.

I closed my eyes and remembered my counseling sessions about controlling my emotions. After a couple of minutes I'd calmed down enough to don the rest of my clothing: skinny jeans, tee shirt and button down. Struggling into my All Stars was the final step before straightening out the jeans to mold with my ankle and cover the ultra-high tops.

A light breakfast consisting of toast and a cup of coffee would hold me until lunch, which I was making when I heard the doorbell ring. Mom beat me to the front and had a smile on her face that I couldn't believe when she saw Max standing there.

"Hi, I'm Max. I'm here to offer Sasha a ride to school."

I almost joined my mother in lala land when I caught sight of what Max was wearing. Uber-tight jeans, and a top nice red top that showed off her arms. I don't know what to call the shirt; it was just, bamb! I no longer had any doubt that she worked out. Her arms were bigger than mine. It was just barely on the good side of almost too much.

Jessica Biel's body came to mind, back when she was working out a lot for action movies, but Max had a much prettier face. What I was wondering was where was she hiding all of this yesterday?

"Hi, Max."

She grinned at me. "Hi Sasha. You ready?"

I gestured to the kitchen. "I… uh, I was making my lunch."

Mom hung out, lounging on the door, watching the byplay. Max shook her head. "You're eating with me today. My treat."

I swallowed. "Okay." Glancing at my mom, she gave me an expectant look that told me I'd have some stories to be telling at the dinner table that evening. "I'll just go and clean up, then."

"'I'll get it, Sasha. You go ahead with your girl friend." She almost stuttered that last word, definitely separating girl and friend, but not by too much.

Max spotted my backpack by the door and before I could grab it, it was in her hand and being tossed over her shoulder. On the way down the driveway is when I couldn't take it anymore. "You realize, of course that my mother now thinks we're dating."

Max snorted.

"I just want to make this clear that it's all your fault, so when things go bad, you'll know who to blame."

She was still grinning evilly. "You worry too much Sasha." When we reached the passenger side, she used the key to open the lock. "Stupid automatic locks don't work on my fob anymore."

I didn't feel to weird knowing that since she opened my door for me and closed it when I got in. After leaning over and unlocking the drivers side I looked back at the house to see Mom still at the front door watching the whole scene. "Gheeze. She's getting creepy in her old age."

After depositing my backpack in the back, alongside hers, Max started up the car and made tracks for school.

"You look gorgeous today, by the way."

She turned to me and grinned, showing me a lot of teeth. "Thank you."

"You weren't kidding about working out, were you?" I reached for her bicep and she tensed it for me. Wow.

"I've got to keep in shape. I plan on breaking a lot of school records this season."

Of that I have no doubt. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks. You'll come to the games, right?"

"Uh…"

"Come on. I need a cheering section and you're the only person I know." Then she grinned again. "Plus, I'll tell your mom and she'll make sure you support your girlfriend."

"You're evil. You know that?"

"I try."

While I may seem like I'd jump at the chance to take advantage of the door she opened up, let's just say that I didn't have the fortitude to follow through. I'd never had a girlfriend and I'd only been on one semi-date in my entire life. That was before my breasts, junior high, seventh grade, my first dance. I'd worked up the nerve to ask a girl; Mom drove us to the dance. We'd only danced one song before she took off because her friends laughed at her for stepping on my toes, twice.

I really didn't care all that much, but she did.

That was my whole dating experience. So maybe you can see how an eighteen year old guy might have issues.

Just like yesterday, Max carried my books. Except this time, people were watching. She had both bags slung around her left shoulder and was walking strangely close to me. I tried to give her some room, maybe thinking she was being thrown off balance by the weight or something, but she closed the space just as quick. Maybe my internal alert system was fried because of the attention overload, but I didn't see Jason Hartley cutting me off at the front door.

He slammed into me accidentally/on purpose before grabbing the door and slinging it open. Luckily Max was there and I didn't go flying. Her arm steadied me and I made a pained grab for my shoulder that Jason wrenched.

I'd never seen someone move so fast. Max, not Jason. Maybe he was moving slow, because the millisecond Max saw I was standing on my own, she reached out and grabbed Jason's backpack, stopping him and driving him into the doorframe.

"Hey, asshole! You just hurt someone." Max turned her head around and looked at me. "You okay, Sasha?"

I winced at the thought of the oncoming bruise to my arm, so I just shrugged. During this time, Jason finally came to his senses and Max closed in on him. "You touch him again and I will end you. Now apologize."

He peered back at me and gave Max a stupid look. "I'm not…"

Clang!

That time I winced for Jason's head against the metal doorframe again. Ouch.

"I said apologize."

He blinked to clear his vision. "Sorry."

With a nod from me to Max she let him go. She gave a particularly nasty look to the growing crowd behind us. "Spread the word. If I see so much as a bruise on Sasha from here on out, then you're dealing with me." Her face and posture eased back when her eyes found me. "You sure you're okay, baby?"

I crooked an eyebrow at her and then nodded. She stepped into me and slid a possessive arm around my waist. "Come on, lets get you to class."

She held me tight to her body and her hand found a perch on my side, just above my hip. When we'd cleared the area and were relatively alone in the hall, well, as alone as you can be with people passing by all the time, she leaned into me. "Sorry about the 'baby' thing. Bullies just get me so mad and I was worried."

I shook my head, unbelievably. "You just declared me your boyfriend in front of about fifty of our classmates. You know this, right?"

She shrugged.

"Is there something you maybe want to tell me, Max?"

I saw her eyes dart to me and then back down the hall. "Uh, where's your locker?"

"English hall, Miss Avoidance. Where's yours?"

She frowned. "Math." Which was two halls over.

I let the issue go until we reached my locker and Max leaned up against the neighboring one. Midway through dumping off ninety percent of my stuff Terry Nicholson cleared his throat at Max. "Excuse me. Can I get to my locker?"

She eyed him. "I want to switch with you. I'm in the math hallway, 2211."

He blinked at her. "But that's my locker."

She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small wad of bills. Peeling off a twenty, she held it out to him. "Switch with me. Come on. I want to be next to Sasha here."

Terry looked at me and then got the strangest expression on his face. Then he looked at the twenty. "Let me get my stuff out."

Max graced him with a smile. "Thanks!"

They exchanged combinations and she unloaded the majority of her stuff off as well. I just stood by and watched.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes ticked to me, briefly. "Would you be my boyfriend?"

I've really got to get my hearing checked. Putting off regular examinations can be hazardous to your mental wellbeing. If the brain can't hear something properly then it tries its best to interpret whatever it does hear. This leads to badness. For instance, Mom made a comment about her hair last night and I could have sworn that she said, 'I'm a jelly doughnut.'

So, when I heard Max ask me to be her boyfriend, I'm sure she probably said something along the lines of, 'I think the Red Sox are going to win the pennant this year.' In fact I'm sure that's what it was.

"Uh…"

She looked a little nervous and I think my compression vest was kind of tight. That was probably why I was having trouble breathing at the moment.

Max's expression took on a concerned type look. "Sasha, are you okay? You're looking kind of pale."

The edges of my vision stared closing in and little spots formed right over her beautiful face.

"Give me a towel or something… thanks."

"His mother has already been called. You need to get back to class, Miss Slade."

"Can I stay at least until he wakes up, please?"

I heard a sigh before opening my eyes. "Max?"

"Sasha! You're killing me here. Second day of classes and you're in the nurses office."

I tried to sit up, but she held me down. "Just take it easy. You're kind of bare-chested at the moment."

Reaching up to feel my towel covered breasts, I screwed up my face. "What happened?"

"You fainted."

Nuh-uh. "I didn't faint."

She nodded at me, kind of smiling. "Your vest is too tight. Maybe you should get a bigger one."

This time I took a page from her book and frowned. "Well maybe if…" I stopped and looked at the nurse who seemed very interested in our conversation. "Can I help you with something?"

When she turned around and started scribbling, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Maybe if you didn't pop stressful questions at me then I wouldn't have gotten excited and lost my breath."

She grinned. "You got excited?"

Frown again. I can actually see where this would be a useful facial gesture for a person in my state. "It's an expression that sometimes means agitated or upset."

Max let that go for a moment. "So, you never gave me an answer before you fainted."

"Are you always going to treat me like this?"

She shrugged. "Probably, but you like the banter and there will most likely be kissing involved at some point."

I almost cracked a smile, but held myself back. So she was right. I didn't have to let her know that. Instead, I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Fine, if it will make you feel better, then yes. I'll be your boyfriend."

She snickered and whispered, "Yay!" Then I got all excited again when she leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, which was promptly interrupted by the nurse clearing her throat. Maybe if she didn't smoke four packs of cigarettes a day she wouldn't have that phlegm problem. My first kiss that didn't involve a blood relation -- not that I do that sort of thing -- and I have to hear someone gargling with their spit. Nice and romantic isn't it? All we need now is Peggy and Selma Simpson to sing 'That's Amore' then everything will be perfect.

Mom was all panicky, Max had to go back to class, and I got the day off for losing consciousness… not fainting. Really, it was on the nurses report and everything. I tried my best to get Mom to go back to work and leave me to fend for myself, but with my health problems she's been hovering over me for most of my life.

This led her to having me lay on the couch sipping some nauseating Serbian home remedy specifically for putting nutrients in your body. So, of course it tasted like horse urine.

"Tell me about this girl that carried you to the nurse."

I almost dropped my mug, and I stress almost with great regret. Maybe if I can get her to ask me something really off-putting then I can get away with actually dropping it.

I don't know why I was surprised that Max carried me down three hallways to the nurses office. It seemed exactly like a thing she would and could accomplish, judging by the size of her arms.

"Her name is Max. She's the new girl."

"I like her."

Of course you do.

"You treat her nice, Sasha. Not every girl would go out of her way to carry her boyfriend across the school."

Was she kidding? No girlfriend could do that! We're an anomaly. I just so happen to skirt on the plus side of a hundred pounds, barely. Max could probably bench press me a dozen times easy.

"It was just a couple of hallways down. I wasn't on the other side of the school, Mom."

She wouldn't have any backtalk. "Nevertheless, this girl has taken a special interest in you. You should have seen your face this morning. I can tell when my little boy is in love."

That made me chuckle a little. "Mom, I've only known her for a day. I'm sure we're not going to get married any time in the near future." And that was lust, by the way, not love.

Hours went by while Mom grilled me about my intentions, plans, future events that Max and I would partake in. While I was getting kind of tired of it, I understood my mother's exuberance. I'd never dated before and now I have a girlfriend turn up out of the blue. She was probably on of the lower levels of heaven at the moment, one that was specifically dedicated to a mother's joy for her children. Even if it was unrealistic, and Max would probably dump me after she realized how much her social life would be affected, it was nice to see her happy for now.

Once two o'clock rolled around. She all but pushed me into the shower. "Wear something nice and brush your hair."

"Mom, I don't even know if she's stopping by after school."

I received the evil eye for that comment. "Max will come by. You were ill this morning. She will want to check up on you." Turning me around Mom popped me on the butt. "Now go."

'Something nice' consisted of my jeans from the morning -- they were the newest ones I owned -- and a unisex tee shirt. It was a bright shade of blue and somewhat figure hugging. Since I'd donned my bra, it pushed together my breasts a little and put them on display. I figured that if Max wanted to be my girlfriend, then she would have to face the bad as well as the good. Her boyfriend displaying larger breasts than hers would probably make that point stand out.

Mom saw what I was wearing and frowned at me.

"It's the style now."

She grabbed my hand and dragged me into her bedroom. "Sit."

With an exaggerated sigh, I bounced down on the edge of the bed and rolled my eyes.

"You'll at least wear some nice shoes. Those runners of yours are awful, Sasha."

"They're in style, Mom."

She disappeared into her closet. "Style or no, my little boy will not look like a vagabond."

I was doomed to be her 'little boy' forever. Standing at five-three doomed me to that fact. "Could you make sure not to call me that in front of Max, please?"

Her head popped back out and she smiled warmly at me. "You'll always be my little boy, Sasha. Even when you're fifty years of age." Vanishing again for a few moments, I looked up again when I heard a noise of discovery. "Yes, these will do."

When Mom reappeared she was holding a pair of black loafers that I immediately made a face at. Not only were they decidedly girlish, they didn't even have any ankle support.

"I know what you are going to say," she said as she held up a hand to forestall my complaints. "Just try them on first."

Like I'd said before, they were black loafers. The tongue came high enough that none of my foot would be showing, but there was a large silver buckle on the outside of the arch and there was a thick heel in the back that rose about an inch, maybe an inch and a half in height. In other words, there was no disguising the fact that they were girls shoes.

Mom set them on the floor by my feet, and I so as to placate her, I slipped my feet into them… or tried to. They got a little hung up as I worked them over my heel. "They're too tight, Mom."

Yes, she has smaller feet than me. A half size to be exact. That's where I got my height and feet from, her.

Without a second thought, she stepped to a chest of drawers and withdrew a pair of those knee high pantyhose things, or stockings, whatever. The point is, they weren't socks. "Here put these on."

I was about to argue, but what was the point? She'd force me and we'd wind up in an argument. If Max did by chance happen to drop by, then I didn't want her to hear Mom and I arguing in Serbian, which we would. Instead I took the socks from her and pulled my jean leg up to slide one of them on.

She saw what I was about to do and stopped me. "Roll them up your leg, Sasha. They are not socks. You'll tear them."

Breathing a calming breath through my nose, I did as she indicated, then again with my other leg before trying the shoes again. By another horrid twist of fate, my feet slid into the loafers like they were custom made just for me.

Mom smiled. "Now stand up and let me get a look at you."

I was wrong about the tops of my feet not showing. There was at least a full inch that showed from my arch and the hem of my jeans.

"They're perfect for you, Sasha."

"Mom," I whined. "My ankles."

She poo-pooed me with a swath of her hand. "Nonsense. When was the last time you tripped because of your ankles or knees?"

That wasn't the point. "Summer after freshman year. But I've been wearing hightops since then and I haven't had an accident because of that."

"Pah!" She dismissed my reasoning. "You'll make a good impression for your girlfriend and we'll have no more discussion on the subject. Understood?"

At my reluctant nod I was escorted over to her makeup table and seated. No, I wasn't going to slap on a thick layer of war paint. It was where Mom cut my hair. "You're in need of a little trim. Now sit still."

While she didn't overdo the cutting, she made sure to brush my hair out a little bit more than normal, basically until it was dry. The ends had a slight curl to them and the rest was straight, for once. Usually I just add a little gel and let it dry by itself, which results in my natural curl settling in. When I looked at the mirror afterward, it appeared I was ready for a date. Sometimes I just don't understand my mother.

"I do wish you'd let me straighten up your eyebrows, Sasha. There's nothing wrong with being neat. The boys on television are always nice and neat."

"Not always."

While I didn't have a unibrow or anything, they were closing in year after year. Eventually I'd have to start plucking them to make sure of proper separation, but that day was still a few years off.

"Now, walk around and get used to your new shoes. I want to see you wearing them more often."

With a feeling of doom hanging over my head, I stood and felt the air hitting my ankles. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it didn't feel natural at all. Having them covered up for so long exacerbated the experience, not to mention the feeling of the nylon covering my calves was a new sensation. Kind of itchy if I had to tell the truth.

"Do you think that I could go out and maybe buy some that are less… female looking?"

Mom looked slightly sad. "Darling, you know that your father only recently found a new job. His lay-off caused our bills to be behind. Perhaps after a few months when we are better off. Until then, I have several shoes that you may use. I'll even purchase a few pair of knee-highs for you."

Dad's unemployment for a span of six months had landed us in slight financial trouble, going from upper-middle to the lower-middle income bracket. We had to cut back on our household expenditures quite a bit. I hadn't bought any new clothes, or anything else for that matter, in probably over a year. Thank goodness that he always overpaid the mortgage on our home, setting us well over a year ahead of schedule. When we had to send in less than usual, we didn't have to default like so many other American as of late.

That didn't mean I had to like it.

What I didn't like was their absolute refusal to let me work during the school year. My studies took precedence. The only time I could hold down a job was during the summer or a seasonal position come the Christmas holidays. So times like those of late were harder than normal without my meager income helping out.

However, Dad had started his new job two weeks ago and it looked like it was going to pay even more than before. We just had to catch up on our bills before returning to the lifestyle that we'd enjoyed before the most recent recession.

I was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom when I was started out of my musings by a quiet knock at my door. After jumping a little, I spun in place and saw Max standing there grinning like a lark.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She stepped in and I glanced down, feeling my face reddening. When she was close enough, I felt her lips on my cheek. "You look beautiful, Sasha."

"Thanks. Mom wanted me to look nice for you if you stopped by after school."

She took my hands in hers and smiled. "Well, I'd say mission accomplished. I think you look great. It's nice to see you not all covered up."

I nodded. It felt nice. Especially since I wasn't wearing my vest.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. It wasn't a big deal. I just lost my breath. I was fine after I got home."

I heard footsteps nearing the bedroom. "Max," Mom called, "would you like something to eat? You must be hungry after a long day at school."

"Thank you Mrs. Petrovitch, but I'm in training. I have to watch my diet. Some water would be nice though."

Mom smiled at her, happy as could be. "Sasha," she said expectantly.

I took the hint and waited on my guest. "Yes ma'am." A couple of minutes later and we were back in the living room with Max sifting through her backpack.

"I got your homework from most of your classes. It's not too much."

Fingering my hair behind my ear, I saw Mom give me an exaggerated eye before I released it back to hang beside my face.

"That was very considerate of you, Max." I think my mother was in love with my girlfriend more than I was. It was creepy.

"Oh, it was no problem."

I was about to cross my legs, but with the addition to my new wardrobe I didn't exactly feel like advertising the fact I was wearing hose for socks to the world, much less Max. So I settled for sitting forward and tucking my feet out of the way as much as possible. This resulted in my pressing my legs together and to one side. Not the most masculine of poses, but it created the desired effect of hiding my shoes.

Max, looked at me again. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Sasha?"

I nodded.

"He's just fine," Mom answered for me. "It's happened in the past. That awful vest he wears restricts his breathing."

I rolled my eyes slightly in response. "That awful vest keeps me from being assaulted, Mom."

Max's hand slid over to mine. "Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore." She eyed me critically for a few moments. "Would you be up to going out?"

I looked to Mom for her okay and received a smile in return. "You kids get out and get some air. It's not healthy to stay inside all day long. Dinner will be ready by six. Please have him home by then, Max. You are welcome to join us if you'd like."

Mom received a consolatory smile in response. "Thank you, Mrs. Petrovitch. I'd have to check with my father for another time. He's expecting me home today."

Mom nodded. "Just let me know. Consider the invitation ongoing. It would be a pleasure to have you anytime."

"That's sweet, thank you."

Max rose and held her hand out to me, which I took in turn.

"Oh, I didn't notice your shoes. Are they new?"

I shrugged. "Kind of. Mom wants to wean me off of my All Stars."

"Well they look great on you. Come on."

Mom gave me a satisfied smile and headed to the door. "Do you have your key, sweetie, just in case I have to run to the store?"

I patted my front pocket. "I'll be right back, Max."

Where normally I would increase my pace, not quite run, to my room, I wasn't really trusting the heels on mom's loafers too much. So it took me longer than normal to retrieve my small billfold, and house key before returning to the front door. Mom was holding on to Max's upper arm and looking quite pleased with herself as they spoke in whispered tones.

Max turned to me. "All ready?"

I nodded and tried to stuff my wallet in my back pocket, but the jeans I was wearing were a little too tight.

"You can put them in my purse if you want, Sasha."

"Thanks."

This time, Max was parked in the driveway. She unlocked and opened my door for me again, waiting until I was settled before closing it. I unlocked her door and worked on my seatbelt. This time I had to adjust it for my breasts. It's one of the downsides of having mounds on your chest. Seatbelts rarely fit properly.

Once we were under way, Max startled me by jumping a little in her seat. "Oh, I forgot." I saw her twisting a ring off of her finger and then handed it over. "Since I asked and you accepted, you have to wear my class ring."

I snickered at the gender turnaround, but accepted the hunk of gold with a blue sapphire as its center-stone. "It's pretty." And big. "This isn't a girl's ring."

She nodded her head. "Yeah, it was the only way to get the baseball symbol that I wanted on the side. The girls rings were too small."

Each finger I tried, in turn, showed that it was far too big for any of them, even my thumb. Max's hands didn't look that big. I guess my feet weren't the only things that were small on my body. "It's too big for my hands. I'll need a necklace, or I can wrap some yarn or something underneath so it will fit."

When we came to a stop light, Max reached up behind her neck and undid her own necklace, passing it over. "You can use this."

I swallowed at seeing how dainty it appeared, but I wasn't going to refuse the gift. After slipping the opened end through the ring I did up the clasp behind my neck and let it hang halfway between my neck and breasts. It looked decidedly girlish in appearance.

"There." Max smiled and looked satisfied. "Now everyone knows you're taken."

My face heated up again. "I don't think it's ever been an issue before."

"Well, now it is. I'm not sharing you with anyone."

Conflicting emotions ran through my chest and stomach. On one hand it felt wonderful to finally be in some sort of relationship, even if it was brand new. On the other, I was well aware that our gender roles were being swapped. Max had taken on the duty of protector and director of our newly formed relationship, and here I was in heels, hose, and girlish necklace, not to mention the bra, breasts, and general female appearance I exuded. I didn't know how to feel about that.

While I wanted to be accepted for who I am, I wasn't exactly sure who that person was.

Being treated by Max, like I was her little woman, was kind of nice. I felt safe for the first time in about four years. The one thing I wasn't too sure about was going out displaying my assets for everyone to see. I wasn't exactly the social butterfly that most teens were. I didn't go shopping unless I absolutely needed to, so spending any measurable time in the public was limited.

Movies and most entertainment venues were out unless I wanted to go with my parents. Even I'm not that hard up for companionship. That led me to stay at home a lot. So you might be able to understand my concern about going out at the moment.

"Where are we going?"

Max shrugged. "I thought maybe we'd just hang out at the mall. I need to pick some new gloves. The padding in my old ones are worn."

That sent a little chill down my spine. Max noticed and set her free hand on my leg. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have my vest."

She squeezed my leg and then slid her hand inside, possessively. "I really don't like what it does to you, Sasha. You shouldn't wear that thing. It's not normal for people to faint because they can't breath properly."

My lips pressed together with nervousness. "But…"

"No buts. Nobody is going to hurt you while I'm around. You can be yourself. That means breasts and all, okay?"

I nodded with an affirmative, but deep inside I was as scared as I'd ever been before. Nobody had ever seen my breasts while they were their current size. I didn't even have my button down for camouflage. "Okay."

The mall wasn't overly crowded, but there was a decent amount of people there for a weekday afternoon. We parked by one of the main entrances and I took my time climbing out of the Corolla. Max met me on my side and closed my door for me. Her hand slid around my back and settled on the thinnest portion of my waist above my hip. Admitting to myself that particular position made me feel a little safer was the first step. Slumping my shoulders and trying to concave my chest was other.

"What are you doing?"

I sighed, feeling like I was busted. "Trying to make myself smaller."

She laughed lightly. "Baby, you aren't going to be able to hide them, so do the opposite, be proud of them."

"Huh?" Why was it I felt less intelligent displaying a more feminine persona?

"Stand straight, push them out. Show everyone that you aren't intimidated by what anyone thinks."

I huffed. "That's easy for you to say."

Max pulled me to a stop and stepped in front of me to face my accusation. "How do you think I felt when I used to be teased about being too muscular, looking like a guy? It might not have been as bad as what you've gone through, but it was bad enough."

I protested. "You don't look like a guy!"

She smiled at me. "Thank you. But I didn't always look like this. I've grown my hair out and I take great pains to make sure my face is made up and I wear the right clothes that show girl more than guy. I'm much more comfortable with short hair and no makeup. I like regular clothes and not the feminine stuff that I have to wear in order to pass muster."

My jaw worked, but nothing came out.

"But I thought with you, I could be who I really am, just like you can be with me. Was I wrong?"

I shook my head with regret. "Does that mean you're going to cut your hair?" I might have said that with a little whine to my voice. I really liked her hair. What could I say? Max smiled. "Not if you like it the way it is. During baseball season I normally wear it up in a ponytail a lot though. It's easier to deal with that way."

It was easy deducing her intent at that point. "You want to be more masculine and you want me to be more feminine. That's why you're treating me like a girl."

Max took a breath and I could tell she wasn't exactly ready to have this conversation yet. "Kind of. Well, yeah. You're right."

"That's why you wanted to find a boy that was 'different' yesterday."

She leaned to the right. "You're making it sound all Machiavellian." At my lack of response she conceded. "Yeah, I was looking for an Emo boy or one that was less masculine than I am, but…" She reached for an explanation that I would accept. It was obvious. "Well, you came along."

"A guy with breasts."

"Yeah… no… you're taking this the wrong way."

"Max, level with me," I insisted.

She sighed, defeated. "When I first saw you, I thought 'boy'! But then I wasn't sure. Then we kind of got to know one another a little. That's the main reason I offered you a ride home yesterday. Even though you weren't a boy, I liked you and wanted to be your friend. Then I found out that you were a boy."

I nodded in understanding.

A car passed us and a guy hung out of the window. "Hey, it's Tits!" The car braked and Max shot them a murderous glare. The guy that yelled the insult slid back in his window and after a few seconds it moved on.

Ignoring the interruption, I continued. "So what is it you expect me to do? Wear dresses, and high heels? Maybe some makeup?"

"No!" Max snapped at me. I stepped back and she realized what she did. "I'm sorry. Those guys got me angry. I didn't mean to take it out on you, really." Seeing my unsure expression, she tried to make up for it. "Sasha, you don't have to do anything you don't want. If you want to wear what you're wearing now then that's cool with me. I just don't want you endangering yourself with that stupid vest."

I pursed my lips, still not knowing her ultimate plan. "And?"

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was a guy by her body language. Her shoulder slumped and she shuffled her feet. "I'll make a deal with you, okay?"

"What kind of deal?"

"Just keep an open mind. Try out new things. If you don't like them I won't pressure you. Same goes with me. If you want me to try something out then I'll do it. I won't make any promises that I'll continue if I don't like it, but I won't say no just because I'm scared of what people might think."

Seeing that I was teetering on the wall of indecision she offered an example. "You said that you liked my long hair, and I said I liked it shorter, but I'll keep it if you want. Stuff like that."

Standing there on the blacktop, I was getting hot in the August sun. I reached out my hand and took hers in mine. "If I don't like it then I don't have to continue doing it, right?"

"Absolutely."

Was I giving in because I dearly wanted to be accepted by my new girlfriend? I don't know.

"Okay."

Sportstown was rather busy with the various jocks shopping for whatever it is jocks shop for during football season: muscle building powders, jock-straps, anal lube, whatever. Max led me over to the weightlifting section and perused the display of fingerless gloves with padding in the palms so one doesn't develop nasty calluses. She tried on several pair until she found one that she was satisfied with.

"See anything you like?"

I looked around the various barbells and weight machines and shook my head.

"I don't guess you're much into fitness," she concluded.

I shrugged. "I can't really workout or anything."

She cocked her head. "Why not? Your condition?"

"Yeah. I don't exactly have the strongest bones, and my joints are kind of weak. It makes pushing myself… well, it hurts and not in a good way."

As we made our way to the cashier I spotted a couple of guys from our school eyeing me with stunned expressions on their faces. Their eyes were firmly glued to my chest. In response, I closed in on Max until she put her arm around me then I looked away.

When it was our turn, Max paid and as she was signing the credit card receipt, I know I heard my nickname. Soon enough we'd left the store and I breathed a sigh of relief. We spent the next thirty or so minutes walking around the mall, window shopping and getting familiar with the store locations. I was surprised about how much it had changed in the few years that I hadn't shopped there.

"Max, can we sit down for a second. My legs are hurting."

I wasn't used to all of the walking around and my knees were protesting the abuse.

We found an empty bench and Max sat on one end, holding up her arm so I could lean against her.

"I like this," she proclaimed. "Sitting here with my boyfriend, enjoying the afternoon."

I nodded. "Yeah." It was nice. Aside from the morons in the parking lot and the comments at Sportstown it was a pretty good day.

"Hey, what size are you?"

"Hmm?"

I looked up at what she was staring at across the way.

"Your shirt size. Small, extra-small?"

"Extra."

Sensing something that I wasn't going to be too pleased with concerning the girls clothing store directly in front of us I went ahead and cut her off. "I don't have money for clothes, Max."

"Who said anything about you paying? And I didn't say we were buying anything anyway. I was just wondering what you would look like in a scoop neck."

That didn't sound ominous at all. I'm trying out for the Rockettes this Christmas as well. "Scoop neck?"

She nodded. "See that green top on the second mannequin, right side. That's a scoop neck."

The specific article of clothing was form fitting, much like what I was already wearing, but it had really short sleeves that didn't even go completely over the shoulders and didn't possess a neck whatsoever. Instead it dipped halfway down the mannequin's chest exposing fake plastic white breasts.

"You're serious?"

"Uh-huh." She looked down at me like there was absolutely nothing odd about her request whatsoever. "You've got the collarbones to pull it off."

My right hand came up to feel the protrusions to the left side of my neck. "Uh…"

"How about we go pick one out and see how it looks?"

I stalled for as long as was humanly possible, before giving in. "No promises, right?"

She nodded. "Just try it out and if you don't like it then we walk out the door without looking back."

Max stood and held her hand out to me. I knew my face was reddening, but I took a hold and followed her inside. We browsed for a few minutes before agreeing on an emerald green top that were supposed to bring out the green in my eyes. I was kind of nervous about going into the dressing room, but since there was nobody else shopping in the store at the time, I ducked inside.

It took all of thirty seconds to swap shirts. The rest of the two minutes Max allowed me were spent staring at the exposed tops of my breasts. There was no way I could wear this. It screamed girl, or more to the point, young woman. Especially with the guys style class ring hanging in my cleavage.

"Sasha?"

I opened the curtain to see Max standing there. Her curious face transformed. "Oh wow. You're hot."

"I can't wear this."

"Why not? Well, obviously you need a different bra. That utilitarian style you have is okay for your regular shirts, but whoa. A nice demi bra and bam!"

"Exactly the reason I can't wear this."

She held out a hand to my arm. "Baby, stop and breathe for a second. Look at yourself." She pointed to the mirror in the small room. "This time be objective. Don't think about what others would think. Think about how it looks on you."

I tired my best to blank out what it would be like to wear the thing in public and just looked at myself. Max stepped inside and shuffled around in front of me. "Here. Let me fix this."

She took a hold of my standard white bra and folded the cup a little until it was almost out of sight and then did the same with the other. Having someone, other than me, touch my breasts created a reaction that I normally get when I enter cold rooms. When Max saw those little protrusions, she smiled just a little evilly. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to mine. It was the first time we were able to really kiss. Meeting her tongue and doing a little dance with mine sent my reactions even more excited than they were previously. I was kind of stupefied when she backed off and slid around to where she was to start.

My eyes focused and I saw what she saw. There in the mirror was a pretty girl. I wouldn't call her hot, but she was definitely pretty. "Okay, I look good."

"Excellent. Okay, hold on a second before you switch back to your other top. There was something else that I saw that you might like."

I groaned, but stood in place, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only a minute passed before she was back. "I didn't know which style would fit you best, so try all three and see."

Three pair of jeans were foisted off onto me. They were all black. With a brief frown, I kicked off my shoes and wiggled out of my skinny jeans before slipping into the first pair. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of excess material in the seat. I didn't have the butt to pull this one off. The second pair fit like a soft glove all over my lower body. The denim was kind of stretchy and my butt fitted well. The only difference in style was the fact that they rose really high over my hips and settled right at my navel where they were buttoned. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself that they fit better than the guys jeans.

"All done?"

"Hold on a sec." I slipped my loafers on and it gave me a finished look. "Okay."

The curtain opened. "God, I'm good. Those shoes go perfectly with that outfit. Turn around." Once I made a complete circle she nodded. "I thought so. You'll need different underwear too. Okay change back and hand those out. I'll go pay for them and meet you at the counter."

When I spotted the price tag hanging from the belt loop I nearly had a coronary. "Max… it's too much."

"What?" She grabbed the tag and rolled her eyes. "You've got a lot to learn about womens clothes, Sasha. Fifty dollars is cheap for a pair of jeans that do what those did to your body. I've paid well over a hundred for great jeans. This is nothing. Get dressed."

Speeding through donning my old clothes, I slipped my loafers back on and nearly raced to the counter to see the final total. A hundred and sixty-seven thirty-nine?! How much was the shirt?

I tried my best not to freak out right there. It was difficult, not impossible. Making a grab for the bag, I was cut off by Max's hand. "I can carry it."

She wasn't going to let me see the other price tag. It was a tee shirt for crying out loud. And not even enough material to make a whole one. There was no way a tee shirt costs hundred and ten dollars.

"I really wish you wouldn't worry so much, Sasha. I have the money. It's not a problem."

I grabbed her upper arm and walked beside her as we exited. "Max, that's a lot of money. I could buy five or six outfits in boys clothes for that much."

She agreed. "Yeah, but they wouldn't look near as good."

My frayed nerves and I were escorted to a lingerie store where Max bought three plain demi bras and two packages of panties which were added to the large bag from the clothing store earlier. By this time, I was just along for the ride. I'd totally given up trying to talk her out of anything. We'd even went into Wilsons Leather where I had to browse jackets while Max made a purchase that she wouldn't let me observe. She told me it wasn't something to wear so I didn't have to worry about it. That just made me all the more curious.

"Okay, we're done."

"Thank God."

I got laughed at, but there were hugs included. By the time we made it back, it was four-thirty and Mom was curious about what we'd bought. Probably because I had about twenty dollars in spending cash for the week and Max toted in three bags, one of which bulged.

She made me stay out of my room while she made up an outfit for me, so I couldn't go through the rest of the bags.

"Okay, everything is on your bed. Put it all on and keep your shoes. I'll warn your mom what to expect so don't worry." She pecked my lips and headed out to the living room.

There wasn't any surprise about the clothes. It was the same outfit I tried on at the store. The only difference was the demi bra and the weird panties. The bra didn't provide near the support as my regular ones, but it was a necessity considering how much skin was exposed. It was plain enough and white, so no frills were involved, which kind of eased my mind. The panties were really thin and stretchy, made out of some type of nylon material. Then it clicked. Panty lines. That's what she meant at the store when she made me turn around. My regular tighty-whiteys probably showed through. Okay, I could deal with that.

When I'd donned everything, I felt decidedly different. There wasn't an article of clothing on my body that could be considered guys clothes. Why did this disturb me to a degree? I knew who I was on the inside, and it wasn't a girl. Instead, it was a guy that wanted to look as pretty for his girlfriend as he could.

I slipped on my loafers and stopped by my dresser to brush out my hair again. After setting the brush aside I stayed there and fingered Max's ring thinking about what I'd been through that day. There was a purplish bruise on my right bicep that Jason Hartley left for me from the front door incident, but other than that my olive-colored skin was unblemished.

The mall was fun and stressful, but the most exciting experience I'd felt in years. The ring Max gave me to show I was taken and I was hers.

I set it back at the top of my cleavage, which was a little more pronounced due to the lift the demi bra gave me. With a cleansing breath I turned and made my way out to the living room.

"Oh, Sasha." Mom was speechless. I wasn't too sure whether it was a good or bad thing at the moment so I waited it out. "Your Max tried to tell me, but I didn't…"

Max was glowing. "Doesn't he look gorgeous, Mrs. Petrovitch?"

With instructions to wear that very same outfit to school tomorrow and the current location of my wallet, Max kissed me and set out to her house.

Mom followed me into the bedroom and I found the rest of the bags in my closet. I came to find out that Max didn't spend a hundred and sixty dollars on just one outfit. She's bought me two pairs of jeans, another in blue, and three scoop necks, the others in white and red. Enough panties to wear all the time and three bras.

The Wilsons Leather bag held, what I thought was a purse at first, but after inspection turned out to be an organizer bag. It was plain enough in black leather, almost like one of those man-bags I'd seen guys toting around. But the implication of carrying it with me, dressed like I was, would appear to be a large purse. Additionally, she'd included what Mom called a clutch wallet.

It looked longer than my regular wallet and just held more spaces for credit cards, with an additional pocket inside. There was also a zippered enclosure for cash. It wasn't really all that feminine, but again the implications were there if taken as a whole with the clothing I was wearing.

"Sasha, all of this couldn't have been cheap. That purse alone has to be eighty to a hundred dollars."

I pressed my lips together. "It's an organizer bag, not a purse. And the tag reads that it's on sale for forty-four dollars." It was a weak argument, I know. "I tried to get her to stop, but she kept on insisting. She kept going on about how we'd just try something on and didn't have to buy it, then by the time I'd gotten to the register she'd already paid for everything."

Mom sighed. "Well, I can't say she has bad taste. Everything she bought you is very nice, and you are very pretty in that outfit." She paused before giving me a concerned glance. "Is this what you want, Sasha?"

I shrugged.

"Honey, it's one thing to wear the occasional dress shoes or even a bra. You don't have a lot of options in those areas if you want to fit in, but this new look of yours. Is there anything there that isn't female?"

I shook my head.

"Even panties?"

With a nod I confirmed her assumptions. "Max said I needed them so I wouldn't have lines."

Mom gave me an agreeable expression. "She's correct. Those type of jeans are very thin and show everything." Following the direction she was looking, I shifted a little. "You might considering tucking certain things underneath so you aren't as obvious."

She stood abruptly. "Let me know by tomorrow morning how you plan to proceed. If this is something you want to pursue then I can help you. If not then you still have time to change back into your boy clothes. After you leave for school, it will be too late."

I nodded and waited until she left before I changed out of my new clothes into a pair of shorts and regular tee. There I was again, a boy. I wasn't trying to play around with semantics. I was a guy in my head, but little less than a boy in body. If the breasts weren't there, I'd look like an eleven or twelve year old. The problem was simple enough. Did I want to hide myself, my true self behind concealing clothes and try to be someone that I wasn't, or did I want to embrace the body that was given me and make of it the best possible body that I could.

My specific problems couldn't be solved with a magical operation. A few pills, taken everyday, keep me from descending into a broken and useless body in just a few years. The outlook for being able to enter into traditional manhood wasn't good at all. But Max showed me that day another option was available.

"Mom?"

She was finishing up making dinner while Dad was changing after arriving home from his new job. "Yes, Sasha."

I didn't say anything, only standing there picking at my fingers with nervous energy drew her attention. "Sweetheart?"

A small smile tweaked the corners of my mouth. "You've already come to a decision haven't you?" She was always able to see through me. I nodded.

Looking back in the direction of my parents bedroom I turned to my mother. "Can you teach me?"

She looked at me and tried to measure my level of commitment. "If I do this then you will learn everything, not just what you think is fun. There is a lot to learn about being a young woman."

I breathed in and out. "I just want to be me. I'm a guy, but I have the body and face of a girl. How else am I supposed to live?"

She thought on that while she ladled her stew into a serving bowl. "Let me see if I understand. You have the thoughts and desires of a young man. That means one day you will grow up and start a family with a woman. Am I correct?"

I nodded.

"But you have realized that your outward appearance is that of a woman, discounting your genitilia. I nodded again. "So you want to look like a proper young lady."

"Yes."

Her lips pursed. "Sasha, you may look, but you must also act in a way as to not reveal your status. As you already know people can be very… hateful."

"I don't want to hide what I am anymore. If I have to act a certain way then I can do so, but I won't lie anymore about who I truly am."

"And who is that, Sasha?"

I jumped at the sound of my father's voice from behind me and spun around. "Papa."

Mom wasn't going to sugarcoat anything for my father. She's very straight forward in case you haven't noticed. "Sasha came to a realization today."

He spotted the ring hanging from the delicate necklace on my chest. "You're gay."

My eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? No. I like girls just fine." Then I figured it out. Max's ring looked like a male's ring. "This is my girlfriend's ring. She gave it to me. They do that here when older teens date."

He smiled in amusement. "I've heard of the tradition, Sasha. However I'd thought it was the man who gave the ring to the girl."

Mom passed by me carrying the serving bowl. "Our Sasha's Max is not like the average girl, Dusho moja."

Don't worry, that wasn't anything bad. Dusho moja means 'my soul' or like a more American term, sweetheart.

"Max?" He turned to me. "You did say she was a she, correct?"

I nodded. "It's a diminutive of Maxine."

Papa sat down followed by Mom and then me in the middle.

"So how is this girl different? Does she have a mustache and beard?" He said it playfully, realizing that I was already stressed enough.

"No, she's a taller than I am, but she plays baseball on the school team, so she takes very good care of herself."

"Baseball? On the varsity team?"

My mouth dropped open. "Uh… I don't know. I guess."

Mom took over as she served my father. "She has a strong presence and can take care of herself as well as our Sasha. It was she that carried him to the school nurse this morning."

"Carried? How strong of a presence are we talking about here. Should I be worried about this Max involving our son in steroid use?"

"Papa!"

"Don't tease your son, Dusho moja. She comes by it naturally from what I've seen, and she dotes on Sasha. Already buying him presents and bringing him out from the shell he's been cocooning himself in for the last four years. She treats him with kindness and respect."

Father took a bite of stew and thought on that for a moment. "You make it sound like this Max is courting Sasha as a man courts a woman."

Mom smiled before passing my bowl to me. "So I do. So she does."

Light through yonder window breaks as does what I was speaking of when he entered the conversation earlier. He looked at me, the necklace, the ring, my breasts. Then he sighed. "I suppose it was inevitable." Then to me. "You are sure that you are not gay."

"Yes, Papa. I'm sure. Max is very pretty, but she is also very strong, and she is attracted to me, not what I was posing as at school."

He looked over to Mom. "You approve of this?"

"I do. But you should be warned, Dusho moja, your son will be going through some changes starting tonight."

Papa's shoulders dropped slightly. "This is going to be expensive, isn't it."

Mom smiled shyly. "Nothing we can't afford. Sasha will be using the money he was saving for his car, but I would like to purchase some things that we should be providing for him in the first place."

My heart sunk at the mention of my private stash. My car!

"Don't get that look, Sasha. If you truly want this then you have to set priorities. Which is more important: a car or what you want? After all, do you not have a girlfriend that will drive you to wherever you may want to go?"

My resolve crumpled along with the hopes of my freedom any time in the near future. "Yes, ma'am."

"There, it's settled," declared Papa. "Use the card we set aside for emergencies. I receive my first paycheck in three days and I already have a sizable bonus attached. That should ease the burden."

Mom looked at me expectantly and I gave my father a weak smile. "Thank you, Papa."

After dinner, I helped Mom with the dishes so we could get started quicker. I had a lot to learn.

The transfer of my necessities to my organizer bag left room for a lot more. I didn't carry much in the way of everyday items. Even the clutch wallet was bare with virtually all the slots unused. Only my license and a few pictures were included. That and my twenty dollars of ready cash from my private stash that was soon to disappear.

I'd saved almost three thousand dollars for a down payment on a new car and after graduating this year I had plans on getting a full time job until I was ready for college. Now I'd probably have to start from virtual scratch after what Mom had planned for me. An entirely new wardrobe and the necessities for a modern American woman didn't come cheap. The previous day's small purchases were testimony to that notion.

I transferred my notebooks, pens, and pencils to my bag but left the hardback books in my backpack. If I arranged it properly, all I'd have to carry around was my bag and it was light enough not to bother me. The most books I'd have to actually carry in my hands would be two, for the classes where I couldn't get to my locker between classes.

Max was there right on time to pick me up for school the next morning, and I was dressed as promised.

"Good morning, beautiful." She kissed me lightly on the lips which distracted me from feeling nervous about my new appearance. "Hey, you did your eyebrows!"

I winced a little. "Do they look okay?" They were virtually straight across my brow, a little thinner, and definitely separated by a wide margin.

"They look great. You look great."

"So do you." I'd noticed Max's clothes were a little more masculine than the day before. Her jeans were now loose, but that was it. She still wore a feminine top -- I found out that was what you were supposed to call girls shirts if you wanted to generalize: tops. She also went a little lighter on the makeup and only wore studs in her ears.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded. Mom and Dad were already gone. Max grabbed my lightened backpack and I grabbed my bag before locking the door behind us. The strap on the bag was extremely long and was supposed to sit across my body to hang on my hip when worn properly.

"Thank you for the bag and clutch as well, and for the other outfits. You really went overboard, Max."

She smiled at me. "It really isn't a problem, Sasha. I get a pretty big monthly allowance, and if I don't spend it, it doesn't roll over. So, you're helping my out by letting me make sure I use it all."

I rolled my eyes at her comment as she held up the fob and beeped her car. "Hey, you got it fixed!" She opened my door for me anyway.

"It was just a fuse. But I actually had to hunt it down and replace it."

Instead of having to lean across and unlock her door this time, I settled my bag and did the seatbelt thing. I was all ready for her when she got in a started up the car.

"Papa wants to meet you before I'm allowed to go anywhere with you again."

Max's lips separated with a little surprise. "What do you mean meet me?"

I grinned and then faced forward. "You were the topic of conversation at dinner last night. Papa says that if you are taking the more masculine role in our relationship then that means putting up with everything that a regular boy has to. So you have to meet him and he has to approve you before we can date or go anywhere else."

Max was stunned, frozen in silence, her hand on the gear shift and her eyes on me, waiting for me to tell her it was all a joke.

"I'm quite serious, you know."

She swallowed and maybe looked a little green. "You're not joking?"

I shook my head. "Just try it out, Max. Remember, if you don't like it you don't have to do it again."

Her eyes widened at the situational turnaround. HA!

I straightened my scoop neck to so that an equal amount of breast was showing on both sides and then I blinked at her with expectation. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Uh… no, I guess." Her mind was working at a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to avoid the inevitable. "Well, I guess that's fair. What do I do?"

I shrugged. "I've never been out on a real date with anyone. You might want to ask your dad or maybe one of the boys at school."

The drive to school was humorous in so many ways. I figured I'd get my laughs in ahead of time since I was bound to be murdered in the hallways sometime that day for bending the laws of nature as I was.

"Maybe I could take your mom up on her offer."

"Dinner?"

She nodded.

"Tonight?"

She nodded again. Max lent me her cell. I called Mom to tell her about Max joining us and that she'd be able to meet Papa that night.

"She's looks like she's going to be sick, Mom. Is there anything Papa expects of her?"

She explained a little and then we disconnected. While I was putting away the cell in my bag I relayed Mom's message. "She says that it is tradition to bring a gift to a girl's parents in Serbia. It doesn't have to be anything expensive, just thoughtful. A small token for the girl is also expected, again nothing over the top. Papa is suppose to talk to you alone and find out your intentions and prospects for the future. Then at the end he threatens the suitor's manhood if he gets his daughter pregnant before they are properly married.

At Max's wide eyes, I laughed. "Okay, I made that last part up. But really, you can't get me pregnant. That would be bad."

She parked the car in an available space before turning to me. "I think I almost peed myself. Please don't do that again."

I snickered. "Just be yourself, Max. Papa will love you like Mom does."

She breathed in and out a few time. "I need to go shopping after I drop you off this afternoon."

"Nothing crazy, Max. I mean it. Papa's not impressed by money. Family is the most important thing to him."

She nodded. "That's helpful, thanks." At that she looked down at me. "You ready?"

"Nope. Not at all, but the new me is ready to get it over with."

"The new you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I made a decision that I wanted to be me. Mom says that means that I have to learn how to be a girl. Basically you've created a monster, and I'll be turning into something you didn't expect." Pointing up to my face I continued. "That's why I did my eyebrows. I was practicing makeup last night."

Max, again, was surprised. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. But I still suck, so I didn't wear any today."

I could tell she didn't want to scare me off so she didn't jump all over the subject. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

Leaning to the side, I gave her a kiss. "Don't let me die today."

"Not a chance."

Max went ahead and put on the most threatening look she could bring up and held it there. I had a hold of her upper arm and my bag was hanging off my left hip. The strap crossed right in the middle of my cleavage, creating even more definition that I'd expected. But there wasn't really anything I could do about that. Instead, I concentrated on walking and keeping an eye out on the reactions of my fellow classmates.

I don't think half the people recognized me at first, but then heated whispers started making the rounds as we approached the front doors. Max opened it for me and we slipped inside without being assaulted.

"Get the fuck out!" someone exclaimed in disbelief. "Are you sure that's a dude?"

Max stopped and halfway turned around to see who it was that had the mouth on him. Bradley Harrington: self-appointed senior class clown. I seriously didn't think anyone thought he was funny in any way, but he was friends with most of the jocks and picked on freshman for sport and his friends amusement.

"You got a problem?" Max said with a serious amount of venom in her voice.

Bradley held up his hands. "No problem, Xena." He was over ten feet away and had enough running room so he was hamming it up. "You and Gabrielle there have fun, alright?" He held up his fingers in a V-shape and wagged his tongue in-between.

It was then that I realized that I wasn't the one that was being made fun of. He was calling Max a lesbian. I squeezed her bicep. "Everyone already knows he's an ass. Just ignore him."

"Mister Harrington!" My eyes darted over to the office and our assistant principal hanging out at the open door where Bradley did see him. "How about you and I having a talk with your parents."

I snorted and pulled Max along with me. "That was priceless. Did you see his face?"

She was still on a slow boil when we cleared some inner doors and entered the hallway properly. I nudged her to the side and let my hands slide to her hips. "Hey." Her dangerous glare dropped to me and then faded slightly to a look of hurt. "Don't let him get to you. Personally, I think Xena's hot and she doesn't have anything on you."

She smiled and leaned down for a quick peck. "Sorry. I was so wound up thinking about them saying something about you that I completely forgot about me."

"That's what I'm here for."

We resumed our walk toward our lockers and almost made it there until three seniors recognized me and stopped dead in their tracks to ogle my breasts. They let us pass, but continued to stare while we stopped off at the locker.

"Just ignore them. I don't care if they look."

Max was back on a slow simmer until we were done and she dropped me off at the door to my English class. "Wait for me here before you leave. I'll be here as soon as possible."

I nodded. "Relax. I think it's going to be okay today. They just need to see the real me."

Making my way to the back corner was easy enough. The room was only half full, but I was eyed by every one of those people on my traditional route. I smiled, closed-lipped at them and un-slung my bag before sitting down. I remembered to cross my legs like Mom taught me. Trying to remember every little thing about the proper behavior of a girl was difficult, but I persevered.

I ignored the stares I was given and withdrew my folder with the assigned homework Max dropped off and then settled in.

The whispers before class were at an all time high. I heard my actual name and sometimes my nickname in passing. Every time I heard my nickname I'd make an excuse to shift in that general direction and show them off. I wasn't the little boy with embarrassing A-cup breasts anymore. These were full fledged girl-boobs and I was starting to become proud of them. The boy in the chair next to me finally sat down. While he wasn't normally talkative to me unless there was a class assignment that demanded it, he leaned over.

"There's something different about you. I can't quite put my finger on it."

I looked up at him and saw the small smirk on his face. "It's my eyebrows. I'm trying to keep them clean now."

"Improve your looks," he offered as a continuation of my claim.

"Exactly."

"Well I gotta say, you're looking better."

I grinned. "Thanks."

A few moments passed and he leaned in again. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I always thought you were a guy."

"I am."

His eyes dropped to my breasts and then back up to meet mine. "Okay." That seemed to totally throw him into confusion.

Was he trying to flirt with me before? Nah.

The bell rang and Mr. Banner entered the classroom and glanced around before calling roll. Being that my last name starts with a P, everyone is usually nice and bored by the time my name is called. This time I think every single person in the class was waiting for conformation that I was indeed Sasha Petrovitch, or maybe they just wanted to see Mr. Banner's reaction.

"Sasha."

"Here."

Just like always, Mr. Banner looked up to confirm that the right person was answering. He looked up and then down.

"Ste…"

Then he looked back up again. I smiled and waved a little. He looked back down at the roll, probably to verify the proper honorific attached to the front of my name.

"'Mister' Petrovitch?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir?"

He raised an eyebrow at me and then pointed to the door. "Hallway, Mister Petrovitch."

I shoved my folder in my bag and threw it over my shoulders. There was no way I was leaving my stuff behind for who know what someone would do to it.

By the time I'd made it out there, Mr. Banner had given my outfit the once over. He closed the door and I heard the volume go up about thirty decibels while everyone inside discussed my new look without my knowledge.

"Something I need to know, Sasha?"

I shook my head. "Not that I know of, sir."

He crossed his arms. "It's normally school policy for the front office to notify the teachers when a student starts his or her life test."

I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Sorry?"

He frowned at my not understanding him. "Are you telling me that you aren't changing your sexual orientation?"

I looked to the side and back at him. "Not that I'm aware of."

He shook his head and then rubbed a hand over his face. "I might have missed it yesterday. Weren't you presenting as a boy, and now you are presenting as a girl."

I shrugged. "I guess. Is that against the rules?"

"Not in and of itself, but there are procedures."

"I'm not having any procedures. I'm just wearing girls clothes."

"That's not what I meant… hold on. You didn't have those yesterday." He pointed at my breasts.

"Yes I did."

"No, you didn't. I remember seeing you, Sasha. You did not have breasts."

I sighed. "Talk to the nurse's office. Remember, I passed out just outside this door, yesterday?"

He nodded.

"That was because I was wearing a compression vest." At his confusion, I explained. "It was so I could hide these. I ran out of breath and passed out. So I'm not wearing it anymore. If the people in this school can't handle the fact that because of the freaky way my genetic structure is set up I wind up with breasts, then it's not my problem. They are entirely natural and I'm just showing who I am. There's no law that says I can't and several that say that I can."

"The nurse can verify this?"

I nodded.

"I'll be emailing her immediately."

"Go right ahead sir. Tell her I said hi."

"I won't let this interrupt my class."

I frowned. "Then, sir, I would suggest you get a handle on all the idiots that like to pick on me. I believe that's part of your job."

He pondered that for a moment. During that time I withdrew my homework and handed it to him. He glanced at it and then opened the door. "Alright settle down."

Mr. Banner finished roll call and then I assumed he clackity-clacked a message to the nurse on his computer before beginning the lesson. For the thirty minutes that followed I caught opportunistic glances in my direction before Mr. Banner's computer beeped at him. A little smile settled on his face before he retreated to inner-school email. He seemed vaguely satisfied afterward.

"Sasha, gather your books, please."

Everyone looked at me with curiosity. That wasn't out of the ordinary. When anyone is singled out in the middle of class they naturally receive the attention of everyone else. It took me all of fifteen seconds to secure the notebook that I was scribbling in and make my way up to the teacher's desk.

"The assistant principal wants to have a word with you. Here's your pass."

Glancing at the clock above the door, I had about twenty minutes until class ended and I needed to be back. I thought of having Mr. Banner inform Max about where I was. There was no need for him to think I went missing. But I wasn't exactly sure about Mr. Banner's stance on the whole issue of me looking like a girl now. Some of his reactions seemed to border on hostile, but he also seemed to be knowledgeable about those things he was talking about earlier, transitioning or whatever. He knew technical terms I was unaware of. So I didn't know what to believe.

I leaned over and grabbed the pass. The one thing I was sure of was that he was definitely a man and he liked breasts. Mine kept drawing his eyes. However, they were on display for everyone to see. That was my fault, so I couldn't blame anyone for taking advantage of the free show. If I was being objective, it was a spectacular show.

Something I wasn't aware of before was the click-tapping of my shoes on hard tile in an empty hallway. Guys shoes just don't sound like that. While I'd like nothing better to claim indifference to the little dissimilarities between the sexes, I was anything but. Virtually everything was different and I couldn't help but notice that one little change compounded on another until, in the end, it was overwhelming.

Take, for instance, clothes. When I wore guys clothes, I had a feeling of being closed in on myself, protected for lack of a better word. Guys shoes are flat, promoting stability on the ground, where girls are high encouraging the feeling of insecurity, that you might fall so you must be on the lookout for traitorous terrain.

Guys jeans are made out of a thicker material, more durable, an armor of sorts. Girls jeans are thin, cooler, softer, but tighter, conforming around their every curve. Their purpose is to put on display the assets of a female and cover the minor flaws.

Guys shirts are practical and functional. They warm and cool when needed. Aesthetics are secondary. While girls shirts are of no practical use whatsoever except for aesthetics. They are made specifically to show off the best portions of their upper body. If a girl has a tight and trim tummy but flabby flesh under their arms then they make a shirt for her. If she wants to expose her breasts… well I'm wearing proof of the existence of that particular article of clothing.

But above all, they provide one thing above all others: they are made to make women cold. Outside in the heat of the sun, I am perfectly fine. But get me inside the school where they have the air conditioner cranked up to ungodly levels to make sure kids stay awake and I'm shivering. Personally I think it's all a plot by guys to make sure that a girl's nipples stay at a constant state of erection.

That was another thing. The demi bra that I was wearing served as a way to press my breasts together and up, using the minimal amount of fabric as necessary. The top was also alarmingly thin. And during my growth spurt during freshman and sophomore years my nipples increased in size almost as much as my breasts. So, wearing those two items of clothing made sure I was on display and erect enough for everyone and their brother to tell their exact position and size.

Solely as a guy, I'd have my books or backpack to cover unwanted and untimely erections tenting my jeans. As a girl I was faced with covering up those same embarrassing erections, but on my chest instead. As both a guy and a girl I was in a quandary as to which was more important to cover. Perhaps that tucking thing Mom was talking about the previous night wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Five minutes later I was waiting for the assistant principal to call me into his office for some unknown reason while I positioned my bag for maximum coverage between my legs.

"Sasha, he'll see you now."

I looked up at the student aide and nodded before standing and working my way around the side of the desk to the office behind him. I received a look of disbelief disguised as something else when I entered and sat down in front of Mr. Parsons desk.

"Well, I can see what all the hubbub is about now."

"Pardon?"

"When did this happen, Sasha?"

I really didn't know which thing he was talking about. "I'm sorry?"

He looked at me like I was purposely trying to be obtuse. I was sure he was used to this attitude, dealing with dumb-asses all day being his job description. "The clothes, the…" he gestured at my chest.

"Breasts."

He nodded. "Right, those."

I shrugged. "The breasts came in my freshman year sir. If you care to take a look at my school file you'll see I have an exemption from physical education because of an incident on my first day. That was because I was already showing at the time. The school and the nurses office already know about my condition."

At his expectant look, I continued. "As to the clothes: I already told Mr. Banner about yesterday. I passed out because of the compression vest I was wearing to minimize the size of my breasts so that I could look as close to a boy as I was able. However, my girlfriend made me realize that I was putting my health at further risk by doing so. So, instead of looking like a boy with breasts I decided that I would look like a girl to minimize the likelihood of the beatings and taunts I would receive around here."

I practiced that speech last night, knowing that the probability of its use was high.

Mr. Parsons nodded in understanding. "So, you're going through transition into a female?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm still a guy and I plan on staying that way."

He was having difficulty with that idea. I understood. I mean what self-respecting guy would put himself through this torture if he didn't have to. "I'm sorry, you've lost me."

"That's okay." Alright, I was kind of playing around with him in with that statement.

He made a face that insisted on seriousness.

"Mr. Parsons, I have a choice to make and my options are limited. Do I look like a preteen boy all of my life and suffer the problems that would incur, the teasing, the assaults, the lack of respect from anyone and everyone, or do I embrace this body that I was given and make the most of it?"

He leaned back in his chair, subconsciously going on the defensive. "It's not that simple, Sasha. The school has responsibilities to the students…"

"Sir, you have a responsibility to me to make sure I am provided an atmosphere that is suitable to learning. Having the crap kicked out of me in gym class my first day here and being taunted every day since with the nickname 'Tits' is not conducive to learning. Every single day I've attended here, I've been pushed down on the floor, shoved into lockers, tripped, bad-mouthed, suffered name-calling, bullied, you name it. Only the bare minimum has been done."

He sighed and I could see he genuinely regretted the way the students treated me. "There's only so much we can do. We can't be everywhere at once."

I nodded. "I understand that. But the only time I've been protected is when I am directly in front of certain teachers. Others look away. I've actually seen them doing it so they didn't have to deal with the problem. Well now I've got a protector."

"What do you mean?"

I angled my right arm at him. "See this bruise?" That was from yesterday morning. I got slammed into, on purpose. Then, since there was no teacher around, he got slammed into the doorframe until he apologized."

His eyes dropped to the ring hanging in-between my breasts. "You have a boyfriend."

I shook my head. "No, I have a girlfriend."

"And she's protecting you? She assaulted this boy?"

Shrugging I dismissed the question. "I'm not admitting to you that she was the one that took a hold of his back pack and directed his forehead to meet a chunk of aluminum until he learned some manners. That would be stupid."

"You need to tell her…" he rolled his eyes a little. "Or whomever that they can get in serious trouble if caught doing so."

I picked up my bag from the floor beside the chair and stood.
"We're not done here, Sasha."

"Yeah, we are. Go ahead and bust her. Just make sure your district's lawyer's fees are paid up. If you so much as look at my girlfriend wrong or treat her any different than you treat any person that has abused me in the past then I'll have the ACLU up your butt so far that you'll be the lead marshal in the gay pride parade for the next ten years due to the experience."

He sat up and leaned into the desk. "Did you just threaten me?"

I stopped adjusting the strap to my bag so that it fit snuggly between my breasts. "Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Parsons. I need to get back to class."

Halfway back to English, the bell rang and two seconds later the hallways were being filled with students rushing to where they needed to be. I froze and then moved to the side so as to avoid the onslaught, quickly reverting to the scared mouse-like state I normally assumed as a boy.

Another minute passed while I was only able to move an additional fifteen or twenty feet. It was nowhere near enough to get me to my precious class and Max's protection. I pushed my panic down and tried not to be intimidated by the looks I was receiving, but it was a thin line between terror and temerity.

"So you were a chick all along, Petervitch."

"Petrovitch," I replied without thinking and without seeing who was talking. I turned to see who was insulting my name.

"Maybe it should have been Peter-bitch."

I'm very sure my face went white as a sheet. It was him. Aaron Carson. He was the guy that started this whole thing on my first day. The very same guy that beat the crap out of me in gym class.

He grabbed my right arm, directly over the bruise and I winced, but couldn't say anything. I was too scared of what he was going to do to me this time.

He leered down at my chest. "Are those real Peter-bitch?" His right hand rose, extending his index finger to poke at one of them. But something stopped him, or rather someone.

His finger was forced in the opposite direction and was twisted behind back before he released my arm and dropped to one knee in pain. I looked up and saw Max, boiling mad and red-faced, with her foot firmly planted behind Aaron's knees, keeping him down. Another clang of forehead against metal sounded in the hallway above the loud noise of the hustle of students.

Aaron screamed out in pain at the pressure Max was putting on his finger. That's when things got stupid.

A dense half-circle formed around the action, so that every student in the area could get a good look.

"I said if anyone so much as touches my boyfriend then they'd have to deal with me. Are you stupid or something?"

Aaron didn't say anything and I inched away.

A yell sounded from him again. "I asked you a question dumb-ass."

"I didn't hurt her!" he finely responded.

"You were about to sexually assault him. I'm a witness."

Max looked up at me with concern. "You okay, baby? Did he hurt you?"

I touched the bruise on my arm. "He grabbed my arm."

"Make a hole." A teacher was on the way.

Max leaned in. "I'm gonna kick your ass until you bleed."

With that she released him and closed in on me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. Aaron shook out his hand and scrambled up right when a teacher I didn't specifically know busted through the crowd.

"Alright, what's going on?"

Max stared Aaron down. I could see the bully flexing his semi-injured hand. "Nothin', I tripped and hit the lockers."

The teacher looked up at Max and me with a total lack of belief in what Aaron said. With no response from us he turned around and frowned at the rest of the teens. "Thirty people standing around and nobody saw anything? Right. Move on. Get to class."

The teacher gave us the evil eye, but didn't say anything else. With no witnesses and nobody filing a complaint there wasn't much that he could do. By the time Max had led me around the corner my hands were shaking.

"Are you okay, Sasha?"

I nodded.

"I thought you were supposed to wait for me." It wasn't exactly an accusation, but my nerves were shot for the day.

"Mr. Parsons called me to the office and Mr. Banner keeps looking at me weird. I was trying to make it back to class, but the bell rang and then everyone was in the halls, and I was stuck. Then Aaron... and he hurt my arm more…"

Max pulled me to the side and wrapped her arms around me. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm not mad. I was just worried."

My eyes were burning and I wiped at my face coming away with wet palms for the trouble. I didn't even notice that I'd been crying.

My next class was almost as bad, but midway through that specific teacher's interrogation of me an email popped up. After reading it, she looked at me for a moment and then sent me back to my seat.

Nobody bothered me, or even gave Max so much as a glare until we made it to lunch. She bought me a turkey sub and a soda at the snack bar that we took outside to the place where we met.

"Are they starting to ease off?"

I nodded. "I guess Mr. Parsons let all of my teachers know what was going on."

"Yeah. I got the impression that Aaron guy was the token sacrifice to see if I'd actually go through with my threat. Everyone's been treating me like I could go nuclear at any moment."

I didn't get the reference. "Token?"

"It's where the people in charge throw someone that's expendable into the mix to see what happens. If they lose him then its no big deal, and if he winds up solving the problem, then they'll know how to treat the situation in the future."

I swallowed a chunk of turkey and Swiss almost whole. "You mean that whole thing was a set-up? They did it on purpose?"

She shrugged. "Probably. But the good part is now they know I'll tear apart anyone they send so they should back off and leave us be."

"Max, what if they send someone bigger?"

She didn't look too threatened. "They probably won't do that. The only people that would be a threat to me are the linemen of the football team and they aren't going to screw their chances up and get kicked off the team."

My worried look didn't seem to sit well with her. "Relax, baby. Let me deal with the bumpkins. Don't worry your pretty head about it. You'll get frown lines."

My eyes narrowed. "Are you a guy in disguise or something? Don't worry my pretty head?"

She smirked and then looked down in embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm trying to act more masculine."

I let a smile tell her that it didn't bother me too much. "You do realize that I like girls, right? If you want to change your look, I'm cool with that, but don't change who you are."

"I'm not really the soft, touchy-feely, romantic-comedy kind of girl, Sasha."

"I'm not expecting you to wear the dress in our relationship," I said. "But don't go and become one of the Neanderthals that are terrorizing the school either."

"I promise."

"Good," I smiled, satisfied.

Max dropped me off at my house with a kiss and a promise not to go overboard with the gifts for the night. She waited until I was inside before driving off. With my homework for the day already completed during class, I made tracks to my room and booted up the laptop. I'd found several sites targeted toward girls, makeup, deportment, etiquette, nail care, and a whole host of other topics dedicated to young females and got to work.

While there was a lot to learn, there was a lot of common sense behind why girls do the things that they do. I was like an empty book being filled with the proper way to do things, and it was, dare I say, fun.

When Mom insisted that I was to act like a girl if I was going to dress like one, I admit that I was scared and maybe a little intimidated at first. I thought it would be like learning how to be a different person from the start, but the truth was that I was just now learning to be a person. Being on the outside all the time never really served to teach me anything about being a boy. No practical experience meant that all I really knew came from books, or multimedia of some type. Even that was flawed.

Now, here I was reading about actual girl's trial and error experiences with eyelash curlers, and what nail care product was full of crap when they advertise that your nails will be ten times stronger with just five applications of their expensive product.

I also learned that Nair sucks and is way stinky. That waxing was the way to go only if you couldn't afford the time and expense of permanent hair removal. I'd have to look into that, because I had to shave under my arms the night before in order to make the scoop neck top look right. Now I had some serious razor burn. On top of the problems with my body, I now realized that I had sensitive skin as well. So, I'd probably wait until the next time I was out to go and get my legs waxed properly. Until then it was jeans for me.

Mom had let me borrow all of her extra makeup until I could get some of my own to practice with.

The first thing I learned about makeup instructions online was that I had to ignore everything anyone said. The only people that knew what they were talking about were the professionals. They did this for a living and knew how to apply makeup properly. I wouldn't exactly trust them with the brand names they use. I'm sure they received free stuff all the time and got kickbacks for mentioning that they exclusively use a certain brand. It was all BS anyway. I saw a picture online of a famous makeup artist that claimed they used Maybelline, but the picture of them working on a client had them applying a Lá³real lip gloss.

With my sensitive skin I was also learning that makeup was harsh on the complexion, so I had to do some serious research to find what would work best on me. So far I was lucky and hadn't broken out in pimples all over the place. But I wasn't wearing it all day either.

"Sasha, I'm home."

I looked at the little clock on the corner of my screen. Holy cow! I just lost two and a half hours researching makeup!

"I'm in my room, Mom!"

After hitting Hibernate I got up and slipped on my loafers, but didn't get to make it to the door before Mom had entered the room. She smiled at me. "How did your first day back go?"

I shrugged. "Okay. It got better after second period."

"No trouble?"

I rolled my eyes. Mom always knew everything that went on. "I got sent to the office, but we cleared everything up, so it's no big deal."

She looked at me critically for a moment and then nodded. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"I guess."

"What are you going to wear?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it to look down at my outfit. "Uh…"

"Sweetheart, I informed you about dressing properly for different occasions."

A pained look crossed my face. "Mom," I whined. "Max only got me the three outfits. I don't have anything else."

"What about your green dress?"

My eyes bugged. "We didn't get any dresses. I'm taking it easy at first. Just jeans and these tops, but in different colors."

Mom sighed dramatically. "I suppose I'll have to take back all the clothes I bought you at lunch today."

A part of me almost squealed and a part of me cringed at what my mother would buy me. Visions of clothes like hers entered my head. Mom isn't the most fashion conscious person on the planet. Sure she dressed like all the other forty-somethings, but I was eighteen, not forty.

"Don't look like that young lady." She shook her head and grinned. "Young man. Your mother knows how to ask the salesgirls their opinions at Forever 21 and Express."

Oh! Oh! Oh! It was almost a universal constant among teen girls online about their opinion of the Trinity of clothes shopping for the trendy and discriminating girl: Express, Abercrombie & Fitch, and Forever 21.

"What'd you get! What'd you get!"

Mom laughed. "My my, you have embraced the proper attitude haven't you."

"Moooom." I almost bounced.

"Come along. I'll need your help to bring it in."

I inhaled. Help? There's so much that she needs help?

My heart was beating at a rapid pace when I saw eight bags in the trunk. "Oh my gosh!"

I grabbed her and squeezed as tight as I dared. "Thank you, Mom!"

She patted me on the back. "You're welcome sweetheart. Some of it might not fit, so I have gift receipts if you need to exchange them or don't like the style.

That probably wasn't possible, but I grinned anyway. "Thank you!"

I was able to grab five of the bags and Mom took the remaining three. There was one other bag in the back with Aldo on the side. I knew I recognized the name, but I couldn't place where it was in the mall. Mom grabbed that bag as well.

"Go on, nosy. You'll see soon enough."

I would have ran into the house, quickly to my room to upend all of the goodies that Mom bought, but I was still wearing those loafers with no ankle support and inch and a half heels. I'd most likely break an ankle. It was with great restraint that I walked a little more faster then normal. When I had hit my room I set the bags on the floor and grabbed the first one, about to toss all of its contents on my bed for quick inspection when Mom appeared at the door.

"Don't -- you -- dare." I froze in place. "Those are not simple boys clothes. Some are delicate and don't need to be mixed with whatever's been growing on your sheets since you last washed them."

"Mooom! I washed them last weekend."

"Nevertheless. You will compose yourself." She sighed and looked at me with pity. "I know you are excited, Sasha, but you must unlearn all of the bad habits that you grew up with. You are a young lady now and you will act as such."

Properly chastened I put the bag on the bed and hung my head. "I'm sorry."

Another sigh from my mother. "Go to the spare room closet and bring me all of the hangers, Sasha."

"Yes, ma'am." I slipped out of my room with my face glowing red with embarrassment. Mom hadn't had to jump on me like that in ages. I guess she was really taking this whole girl thing really seriously, while I was just having fun.

My arms were loaded with hangers, padded, plastic, fancy and not. Not to mention those strange hangers with the plastic clothes pins attached to the lower part. When I got back, my bed was made and the comforter, which I never used, was on top.

She pointed. "Set them on the bed and I'll show you a few things. Then I want you to prepare for this evening."

It was only five o'clock. I'd barely need a few minutes to get ready. Mom looked at me again. "Sasha, trust me. I've been doing this for many years. You will need the time."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Child, come here." I slowly inched to her and she pulled me into a hug. "I love you so very much, Sasha."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Now tell me. Do you want to see a look of adoration on your Max's face tonight?"

I nodded.

"Then do as I say and you will have that."

"Okay."

"Good. Now let us see what it will take to make you more beautiful than you already are, yes?"

The trip to the salon will have to be postponed. I had to take a bath and shave my legs. I haven't taken a bath in years. Mom bought these things to put in the water that was supposed to make me smell good and I have to admit, it was pretty nice. I had new shampoo and conditioner from a place I'd never heard of. She also stole my deodorant and wash rags, substituting them with a girls style deodorant and this big poofy pink thing that I was supposed to squeeze body wash into and scrub myself with.

I hadn't made it this far in my research to know the proper names for anything yet. I was more concerned with what came after: the clothes, makeup, perfumes, earrings, bangles, you know… stuff!

She left me with only a pair of light green bikini panties and a really short robe to dress in after I was through. By the time I'd made it out, it was already five-forty-five. Max would be knocking on my door in only fifteen minutes and I hadn't even tried the makeup I wanted to wear!

"Mom, we've only got fifteen minutes!"

"Slow down, Sasha." She held her hands out. "Dinner has been delivered and your father will answer the door and have his conversation with your Max. We have plenty of time. Besides, it is always best for proper ladies to keep their men waiting." At my questioning look, she smiled. "It makes them more nervous and they will make fools of themselves when they see us."

I laughed. "That's horrible."

"But fun. Now come, see what you are going to wear."

It was hanging on the back of the closet door. Green to match my panties.

"It is called a pleated surplice dress. See the little folds on the lower half?" I nodded. "Those are pleats. Notice the upper portion the tight shape of the V plunging deep through your cleavage."

"Mom, I don't have a bra for that."

She smiled naughtily. "Sasha, there are some outfits that you will not wear a bra with."

My eyes bugged again. "They're going to be…"

"Free yes, however we have these to protect your modesty."

In her hand was something that kind of looked like a really big band-aid. I tilted my head and tried to figure out how they worked.

"Open your robe."

I blinked. "Uh…"

This time there was no smile, only a small sigh. "Child, do you not think that I possess breasts very similar to your own. I've seen them many times. Now open the robe."

I swallowed and undid the sash, opening the robe as instructed. Mom sighed again, wistfully. "My son has better breasts than I do. Something is seriously wrong with this world when that happens. Now watch, so you'll know how to remove them."

She turned the band-aids over and there were adhesive strips on either side and underneath. "You wear these so that you have a minimal amount of support and to mask your nipples."

My face reddened again as she applied the things on the lower half of my right breast. Then did it again for the left. "Excellent. Now… Sasha. Did I not tell you about tucking things out of the way?"

My face burned hot and I performed the required tuck while she retrieved the dress. "Take off the robe." She eyed me and nodded. "Better. We'll have to find something that will work to hide you better. When you wear tighter dresses or skirts even that little amount will show through and create unsightly lines where there should be none."

She set aside the hanger and held up the dress for me to step into. At first I thought it was too big in the waist, but after I slipped my arms through the sleeveless portions and let it settle in the middle of my shoulders I saw the tiny belt Mom had in her hand. "This goes at the thinnest portion of your waist. See the little belt loops?"

They weren't loops so much as bits of thread on the sides to indicate where the belt was supposed to hang.

The doorbell sounded in the distance and I jumped. "She's here!"

"Calm yourself. We have to do your makeup and fix your hair. You are not finished."

"But…"

"Get your shoes and come with me. No not the loafers, the new ones in the Aldo box, the black one."

There were two boxes: one brown and one black. Twenty minutes later and I had perfect skin on my face, or at least it looked perfect. My eyes were dark, with hints of green on my lids and my lips were glossy and weird feeling. The slight dark patches under my eyes were gone and my eyebrows were plucked just a little more to make them thinner on the ends.

Mom dabbed some perfume that I thought was a little too flowery on my wrists and under my ear lobes. She sighed at my nails and toes. "We will need to have those professionally done the first time. I don't have the patience to perform a manicure and a pedicure. Now, put your shoes on."

I flipped the top off of the box and my breath caught at the heels inside. They were even higher than my loafers.

"It's only another inch, Sasha. If you haven't fallen with your loafers then you will not fall with these. They're supposedly very in style. Cage design or something."

They looked like sandals and not proper shoes, except they had about twenty straps going every which way. They matched my dress, not to mention my panties. "How do I... oh a zipper." It was in the back at the heel. Odd place for a zipper. I slid my foot in and noticed I had a little extra room. "I think they're too big."

"They're a six. When you wear higher heels you need to go a half size larger or else you'll be regretting it after a few hours."

I took her word for it and put on the other shoe.

Mom helped me up and held me at arms length. "How do they feel?"

I took a tentative step and didn't fall over. "Odd. I'm not used to having so much air on my feet."

She smiled. "You'll get used to it." I was left where I was and she walked over to the door. "Come to me. Remember to keep your back straight. Don't slouch. Glide, don't bounce. Toes pointed forward."

"I remember." She drilled it into my head the previous night until I performed as expected.

When I arrived and hadn't broken an ankle, she smiled widely. "You are a vision, Sasha. Go look at yourself. I will go prepare our escorts. Come out in two minutes, no sooner."

"Yes ma'am." Before she made it out of the room, I stopped her. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Thank you."

I received a tooth filled smile in return. "Two minutes."

She was gone and I was alone looking into a mirror. "Wow." I didn't look like myself. My eyes were gigantic and my lips larger than normal. Mom had pulled my hair up in back, sweeping the sides up and leaving little inch wide portions hanging down to cover my earlobes since I didn't have any piercings as of yet.

I shook myself from staring and realized that I'd lost track of time. Had it been two minutes? Crap!

Slower than I normally walk, I made my way to the hallway and listened. "Sasha will be here in a moment. I have to get my camera."

Okay, probably only a minute. Hold on… a camera? I breathed a cleansing breath. That's okay. I wanted pictures of Max and the two of us together. I seriously need something to fill my clutch.

Closing my eyes, I tried to find a very peaceful place in my head. It wouldn't be good to go in all tense and nervous. It was my home after all. Good. Now go.

I took a step and almost fell over when my heel hit the hardwood floor. Luckily my hands were already near the wall and I didn't need to be rushed to the emergency room just yet. Maybe later.

"Smaller steps, Sasha. Now go before you're late."

The shoes were a lot louder on the wood, making it sound like I had metal taps on the thin heels. Max was to the side where he couldn't see me coming down the hall, and there was Mom with a silly grin on her face.

Two breaths were taken. Each sounding louder in the silence of the room. Max stood there in a pair of black slacks and a blue silk shirt, both cut in feminine style. Her hair was pulled back and held in a low ponytail to give her a more masculine appearance. I could see tell-tale signs of makeup on her face but it was very light. She was so incredibly hot that I felt my stomach clench and my smile widen to epic proportions.

She blinked and started to say something, but stopped, started again, but stopped then she swallowed. "Sasha."

"Hello Max. Thank you for coming tonight." Moving forward, I met her somewhere in the middle. Where she held my hands and looked down at me, but due to my heels, not near as much anymore.

"I can't tell you how beautiful you are right now. There aren't words…"

Father cleared his throat and I looked over. "Hi, Papa."

He was white as a sheet, but getting his color back.

"Children?"

I looked the other way and as soon as I did, a flash went off.

"There, I've taken the surprise shot, now I need a couple of posed. Both of you together. Max, put your arm around her waist and you back there, get out of the way."

I almost snorted when I knew she was snapping at Papa.

It didn't stop there. Papa and I were next and Mom and Max. Finally I gave Mom a look and she set the camera aside, we ate dinner, and retired to the living room where Max gave me my gift. I kind of like this tradition. HA!

I unwrapped it and found a very nice box. I raised an eyebrow at Max.

"I promise I didn't go overboard. I was thinking about how much your life is changing now and that you might need some way to remember it someday."

I lifted the top and inside was a something wrapped in embossed leather and secured with a leather thong. After lifting it out I undid the thong and opened it up to find a good sized book. Upon closer inspection I realized it was a new journal.

"Max," I whispered. "It's perfect. Thank you."

I leaned over and pecked her on the cheek since Mom and Papa were sitting right there.

"Mr. Petrovitch, would it be okay if I took, Sasha out for a short walk? I promise to have him back in about thirty minutes."

Papa nodded once. Mom waved me to her and told Max that I'd be back in a moment. We went to my room and Mom passed me a small purse that hung by a thin strap. "Your clutch is inside, along with your lip gloss and a small compact with a mirror. Check yourself before you come back in. I don't want your father seeing you mussed after you've been kissing your Max."

"Mooom!" I whined, but then smiled. "Thanks."

I shouldered the dainty thing and returned to the living room with a grin. "I'm ready."

"Thirty minutes," Papa declared sternly. He turned to my mother. "Your parents would have insisted on a chaperone."

I rolled my eyes where only Max could see. He kept a straight face until we were outside.

"Oh my God that was the most embarrassing thing I've even experienced," she declared.

I grinned and took hold of her bicep so I wouldn't fall down the steps. "I hope Papa wasn't too awful."

She looked at me like I was kidding. "He wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. How I was going to support you, how many children I wanted you to have, prospects for education and a job."

With each revelation I became more and more horrified. "No," I gasped.

She nodded. "Yep. Asked me if I'd ever had any tickets, ever been arrested. I think I nearly kissed your Mom when she came in and ended it."

I laughed. Papa was do old world.

"Then she just about read him the riot act for being so nosy."

I shrugged. "That's where I get it from." We turned right at the sidewalk. "There's a park about a block down."

"Perfect." We continued on for a minute without saying anything and I was perfectly content in the silence. "I can't get over how gorgeous you are tonight. You make an excellent girl."

"Lady."

"Pardon?"

I smiled up at him. "I can't be a girl because I'm a boy, but I can be a lady because that is all about poise, attitude, and something else I forget. Mom gave me that lecture last night."

"Well then you're a flawless lady."

"Thank you. And you make a very dashing Gentleman."

Another minute passed.

"I hope you don't get the wrong idea about the questions Papa asked you. I mean we just started dating."

She nodded. "That's what I told your dad. But he said that dating is for children and we were both of age, where more is expected."

I nodded. That sounded exactly like my father. "Well, don't you be scared, because I don't think that way. Perhaps if we were both out of school… and college I mean, then I'd have those thoughts, but we're still too young."

"That doesn't mean I don't think about it. Like he said, we're not children any longer."

I agreed. "Thinking is okay. Right now we need more… courting, I guess."

The park was nearly empty by the time we got there. Once we found a bench, Max withdrew a handkerchief and wiped down the seat to make sure I didn't ruin my dress. When I smoothed it out and sat down I crossed my legs and then set one hand over the other at my knee. Max was impressed and I could see it on her face.

"I… I'm repeating myself. You're wearing a dress. I thought you weren't going to go that far, and heels even."

I looked down at my very strappy sandals. "Mom got everything for me, and I wanted to look my best for you."

"Thanks. I'm… overwhelmed. I didn't think any boy would ever… I mean…"

"I understand. It's okay." I looked at a mother across the way that was calling her son. "I thought I'd fight this more, but it seems like every minute I'm immersed in this new world, the more I enjoy it. The more I look forward to trying something else."

"I'm happy that I could share it with you." She reached in her right pocket this time and then looked up at me. "I got you something else."

"Max," I sighed. "You don't have to keep buying me things. Two days we've been together. You'll be broke by Christmas and then what are you going to do?"

She smiled. "I won't be broke, trust me. This is something to go along with your diary, or journal, whatever you want to call it."

I laughed playfully. "It's a journal. Diaries have heart-shaped lockets and are pink. But I still love it. It was very thoughtful and timely. Always a good combination."

She withdrew a zippered pouch about six inches long or so. It was the same color as the embossed leather that protected the journal. My curiosity got the better of me and my brows furrowed at Max's newest gift. "What is it?"

"First you've got to promise you won't get mad."

My curiosity turned to worry. "Max, what did you do?"

"Promise."

I sighed in resigned protest. "Fine. I promise. Why would I get mad anyway?"

She cringed. "Well, I kind of went overboard, just a little, on this gift."

My shoulders slumped. "Oh, Max. You goof." I head-shrugged at the pouch. "Let me see."

She unzipped it and opened the pouch. It was only a one fold close. Inside, on one side, was a cushion, on the other side were four sleeves, one of which ran the length of the pouch.

"Is that a pen?"

She nodded. "Go ahead and take it out."

It was a really nice pen. Black with a gold colored clip and gold colored band on the bottom of the cap. On the top was a little rounded off Star of David -- a six pointed star, but not really. I was confused. How could a pen be overdoing it?

"Open it up."

I looked at it for a second before trying to pull it apart.

"It unscrews."

Ah. Silly me. My normal experiences with pens consists of pushing the little click thing to make the ballpoint pop out. This one I unscrewed and looked at the odd tip.

"It's a fountain pen. You can learn calligraphy. It's a really beautiful way to write."

I leaned back in understanding. "This is going overboard? I think you're safe sweetie." Reaching up I pecked him on the lips this time. "Thank you for the pen."

She pointed out the three refill cartridges and that they came in black, blue and burgundy, so I was supposed to tell her which one I liked best and she could get me a bunch of refills of my favorite color. My girlfriend was very thoughtful. I didn't know about the pen though.

Now that the gift-giving portion of the evening was over, I was hoping there would be kissing involved. Max replaced the pen in its handy dandy carrying case -- it's a pen, why the heck did you need a case for it? -- and then smiled wickedly at me. I smiled back and pursed my lips slightly.

"Do you like my lip gloss? Mom bought it for me."

"I think it makes your lips very shiny."

"Really? Does that give you any ideas?" I asked teasingly.

She shrugged. "It kind of makes me think of the way the paint shines on a candy apple '57 Chevy."

My tongue poked into my right cheek in disbelief. "Max!"

"I'm kidding. I'd really like to kiss you, but I don't want your father to shoot me if you come back and it's all mes…"

"I brought it with me and a mirror too."

She was on me quicker than Bernie Madoff could say, "Trust me, I wouldn't screw you over."

Yay!!! Now this was kissing.

With one minute to spare, we entered the living room. "We're back," I called out. Mom and Papa came out from the kitchen, and said their goodbyes to Max and thanked her for the European wine of the month club membership for a year and the basket of Serbian strawberries. I had no idea where he found that. But since Serbia supplies twenty percent of the world's strawberries I guess it wasn't too hard.

I bounced in place before she left and showed Papa the pen she got me for my journal. "Papa, isn't it pretty?"

Papa blinked at the case and then took the pen out to examine.

"I really need to get going, Sasha." Max sounded a little nervous.

"Okay." We'd said our goodbyes already, but I wanted to walk her to the door.

"Sasha."

"Yes, Papa."

He glanced at Max without expression and then back to me. "Do you know what this is?"

I looked at Mom. "Uh, a fountain pen?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked at Max again. "It's a Mont Blanc specifically a Meisterstá¼ck Le Grande."

I looked at it. "It has a name?"

"It's a model, Sasha. This gift is not appropriate for a young lady." To my horror, Papa stuck it back in its case and zipped it up then handed it to Max.

"Hey!" I complained.

"That is a personal gift to Sasha, Mr. Petrovitch. This is a turning point in her life and I thought it appropriate to celebrate in this fashion."

"Papa, it's a pen." I couldn't see what the big deal was and why he was returning my gift. What's so inappropriate? It didn't vibrate or anything.

Papa looked at me with narrow eyes. "Sasha, it is a five-hundred dollar pen, not to mention the designer case and extra cartridges."

I nearly choked on my own spit. Spinning around on Max I snapped. "Are you insane? Five-hundred dollars?!"

Max's shoulder straighten up. "I would have gotten you the 149. It's a better pen, but I thought it was too large for your hands."

"Six-hundred dollars," offered Papa. "Even more inappropriate."

She looked at me. "You promised."

My mouth dropped open and I made a short sound of disbelief then shut it back up. "You're right, I'm sorry." With a sigh I took the pouch with the severely over-price pen from Papa. "You have to make me a promise as well, because I warned you not to go overboard."

I held the pouch possessively to my breast. Max nodded. "That's fair, as long as you keep the pen."

"Good. No more gifts, not until Christmas, or a birthday, or a very special occasion."

"Sasha."

"Papa." I said it just as stern and stubborn as he did.

"Dusho moja." Uh oh, Mom stepped in. "Let the children say their goodbyes in peace."

Yay Mom!

Papa got a frustrated look on his face, but caved. Mom didn't step in the middle of things without good reason so those times were few and far between. But whenever she did assert herself, woe betide the person who crossed her or didn't follow her instructions to the letter.

I watched until they were out of sight before turning back to my girlfriend. I pursed my lips at her, but let go to the frustration of the deed. "Are you going to tell me where you get the money to throw away so much on me?"

Max stepped into me and brushed her finger along my jaw. "It's my money. I told you I get a large allowance each month."

My smirk afterward was accompanied with a raised eyebrow. "A hundred dollars is what I consider a lot."

She nodded once in acceptance. "Then believe me, where I am concerned, five hundred for a thoughtful gift that you can use for years is not a lot."

My fingers slid up her silk blouse, until my hands found the back of her neck. "Papa thinks you are trying to buy your way into my bed."

The irony wasn't lost on either of us.

"He's really taking your change in appearance seriously."

I nodded. "It's really odd. If we decided to date without the changes then he would probably be egging me on."

"Consider yourself egged."

When I saw the now familiar look in Max's eyes, I rose up on the balls of my feet and closed my eyes. The kiss was light this time. She was taking it easy on my lip gloss, not wanting to muss me.

"I better go. I don't want you to get in trouble."

With a smiled I dropped back down to Earth. "Don't worry. Mom's stepped in. I'm okay." I waved the pouch under my chin. "Thank you for the pen. It's perfect for the journal, and I've already got a really nice memory for the first entry."

She smiled, genuine and heartfelt. "You might want to practice with it first. Writing with a fountain pen takes a little while to get used to."

I nodded and reached up to peck her lips again. "Okay, shoo. See you tomorrow morning."

I opened the door for her and watched as she stepped out. "Are you going to wear a dress tomorrow?"

"Would you like me to?"

She grinned. "What can I say? You have very sexy legs."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see."

Max's face dropped into a silent plea. I rolled my eyes at her. "Go!" I laughed and stayed at the open door to watch her drive away with a happy wave.

When I closed the door I heard it. Raised voices in the background. Trying to ignore the muffled conversation, I closed up the box my new journal came in and held it close to my breast, along with the pouch clutched in my left hand. In order to reach my room, I'd have to pass closely to my parents. That was also when I heard the topic of the heated argument. Me.

"It is unseemly," Papa argued.

"It is not for you to decide anymore. Sasha is an adult and can make her own decisions. You have to trust that we raised her properly, Dusho moja."

"That is the problem, we raised Him to know better, but She is like an unprotected fawn in the woods."

They were talking about me like I changed sexes! One minutes I'm a boy and the next a girl.

Mom's voice hardened. "I think you underestimate the young lady our son has grown into."

"Bah!"

"Do not dismiss me! I am teaching her all she needs to know. Do you think so little of your wife that you think I am helpless."

Uh oh. I could almost see Papa flinch.

"Dusho moja, that is not what I said."

Mom's voice changed levels. I could tell she moved to some other portion of the room. "So now I am your soul? No. Either you trust me to teach our daughter the ways of womanhood or you do not. There is no middle ground. I never dismissed your concerns when it was you that was the teacher and you all but abandoned him three years ago at the appearance of his breasts."

"That is not the same. I did not abandon my son. There were issues that I did not know how to address."

I could almost see Mom wave him off. "I will not go over this tired ground. However, you will acknowledge that our daughter cares for Max. I have never seen her this happy or excited about anything. I swear to you, if you take this away from her then I will never forgive you. I will not stand by and see her in the depression that had all but stolen her from us."

Everything went quiet. My grip on the box tightened and I moved forward to hear what I was missing.

"You are right. She has never been happier or more involved in herself," said Papa.

"Hmph. Now you concede." Her footsteps told me that she moved back to where she was. "You must trust in her, Dusho moja. You saw how quickly she objected when she found out how much that gift costs. She knows it was too much, and she made sensible precautions for the future insuring that Max does not spoil her too much."

"Yes. This is true."

"You do realize that she is not truly a girl in the physical sense. She cannot get pregnant."

I heard a chuckle from Papa. "Yes, but it is so hard to see now. I think I nearly swallowed my tongue when she made her appearance tonight."

"She is very beautiful," said Mom.

"Just like you. She reminds me so much of you, Dusho moja."

"As her stubbornness and drive remind me of you, Dusho moja."

There were some smoochy sounds in the background. Oh, eww. Time to make a retreat.

I tiptoed to my room and saw Mom had laid out something new for me to sleep in and all the bags were gone. At first I'd thought that she took all of my new clothes away. I stepped quickly to the closet to see if they were in there and saw that all of my old clothes were missing and in their place were quite a few new things.

My old self was almost gone.

Crossing to my chest of drawers I opened each in turn to find everything had been replaced with different bras, panties, stockings, pantyhose, socks, everything that a real girl needed.

"Do you mind that I made some changes, sweetheart?"

I jumped and spun in place. Mom was standing at the door observing me. I shook my head, and gripped my box against my breast. "Just surprised that you did it all so quick."

She smiled at me and I could see that her eyes were on my gifts. "You may put them down. Your father will not insist you return them."

I grinned sheepishly and set the box on top of chest, but I still held on to the pouch. "I'm sorry for causing trouble between you and Papa."

Her gait as she walked into the room was reminiscent of what she taught me, smooth and graceful. "Do not concern yourself, child. Your father and I have many conversations where you are involved and also where you are not. However, we always come to an agreement in the end. It is what loving relationships are about."

She crossed to the bed and sat down, patting the space beside her. After joining her, she put her arm around me and drew my head under her chin. "I was very proud of you tonight. So was your father."

I smiled ruefully. "I don't know about that, Mom."

"I've known him longer. You'll have to take my word for it. Having a daughter is a new experience for him. He never had a sister and grew up in a family of boys. So, you will have to accept that he will be a little overprotective of you."

I sighed. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Do you and Papa think I'm a girl now?"

Her hand tightened a little on my shoulder. "Yes, in a way." When I didn't say anything else, she continued. "You will have to admit that you have taken to living as such quite well."

I nodded silently.

"There is nothing wrong with us referring to you as female. It is just a descriptive term in that sense, for I cannot see a hint of your male self. It is a compliment, and you should take it as such if someone refers to you by the feminine in the future."

I shrugged. "I'm not upset. I kind of like that you think of me that way now. I mean that… I don't want to be… I like being a boy, but I like being a girl too. I like that I don't have to hide anymore. And Max…"

Mom giggled a little. "Yes, Max. You will have to keep a tight reign on him."

It felt so odd referring to Max as a him. Of course, I knew better. When she wanted to, Max could look very feminine, but she looks equally as good when she is a touch more masculine as well. I thought she blended the two rather well that night.

"Do you think I should refer to her as a him now?"

Mom shrugged. "I suppose that is a conversation you should have with Max."

"You're right. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow."

"Speaking of which, you'll need to wake up a little earlier to make sure you have time to get ready. There are many more things to do in the mornings when you are a girl."

Thinking about how long it took me to get ready for dinner tonight night, I agreed. "Okay."

"Now let us choose an outfit for school. That will set some decisions aside and save time in the morning."

Upon entering that closet I noticed a number of shoes lined up on the floor. "I only remember one other box. Where did all the shoes come from?"

"My closet. I admit to having something of a shoe fetish."

At Mom's announcement, my eyes widened and I laughed. She smiled and eyed me. "These are the ones that I was able to part with that I thought would go well with a number of your outfits. Here, take those off."

I unzipped the ones I was wearing and slipped out of them. Mom set them back in the box. "I will have your father build you a proper place for your shoes this weekend. You must not take the chance of scuffing them. Good shoes are quite expensive."

"Yes, Mom."

She frowned. "Sweetheart, would you mind calling me Mama. Mom just doesn't look right coming from you anymore."

I grinned. "Okay… Mama."

"Very good," she said happily. "Now, out of that dress and let's find you something for Max to make a silly face at tomorrow."

Before going to bed, I jotted some notes in my laptop about my experiences over the last two days. I didn't want to make any official entries into the journal until I could write properly with a fountain pen. Then I donned the light pink camisole and shorts set that Mama laid out for me and slipped into bed.

My face felt fresh and clean after taking off the makeup that had been so carefully applied. It was quite a change in my habit of just jumping into bed. Kind of nice in a way.

I dreamed of the previous evening and the time Max and I spent in the park. Things were changed significantly in my subconscious fantasy. Max looked even more masculine, dressed in a coat and tie, and I had much longer hair that moved around my shoulders in the warm breeze.

Instead of the pouch that Max originally withdrew from his pocket, he took out a small velvet box and dropped to one knee and opened it. I cried happy tears at seeing the diamond solitaire and the accompanying proposal of marriage. We kissed and went to tell Mama and Papa the good news.

That's when Mama woke me up the next morning.

I realized it was jumping the gun more than a little, but it was my subconscious, not my conscious mind that did the fantasizing. With a cleansing breath to take the image of the diamond that adorned my ring finger out of my head, I hopped out of bed and did the bathroom thing.

For the first time, I did my own makeup. Since I was going for a daytime look, I was able to stay fairly light. I loved the way my eyes looked the night previous and tried to mirror that with day colors, just not as heavy. In the end, I wasn't completely satisfied, but I did a decent job. I'd have to practice a lot more if I wanted to be as good as Mama.

The look we'd picked out last night would be more at home at a social gathering, but it was smart enough for school without going too overboard.

The dress, in a powder color, was strapless with small ruffles that graduated from bottom to top, larger to smaller, where a good two inches of cleavage showed. It showed off my legs from about an inch above the knee on down. A very wide stretchy multi-strapped belt went around my middle, high above my hips. Girls belts really didn't seem to serve a useful purpose, being there mainly for show.

A black tuxedo blazer smartened up the outfit and covered the majority of my breasts leaving only a two inch span to expose. It was much less than the scoop necks showed. The shoulders were strong and made me look more put together. I pulled up the sleeves to my elbow and grinned in the mirror at the look. It was probably too much, but I wanted to look really good today. A thick-banded metal hinge bracelet went on my left wrist along with a few thin silver bangles for texture. A silver flower ring was slipped on my middle finger on my right hand.

A few shakes of my hands and everything settled. I was getting a little excited about the look and nearly dashed to the closet to pick up the powder colored court shoes. The heels were a little shorter than the previous night, so I felt somewhat safe. I'd definitely have to be careful on the tiled floors, but Max would be there to escort me so I felt confident enough.

After stuffing the pouch with my new pen inside my bag -- there was a handy pocket for an eyeglass case, so it was large enough to hold the pouch -- I shortened the adjustable strap where I could tote it on my shoulder. With the outfit I was wearing, it would look horrible if I carried it cross shoulder.

A couple of swipes through my hair with a brush a few dabs of the perfume Mama got me, and I was finished. I checked my clock. Darn it, forty-five minutes. I'd barely had enough time for some juice and toast.

"Well, don't you look like you are ready for a day at the country club."

I cringed. "It's too much, isn't it. Should I change?"

She laughed a little. "The dress is… no, the blazer brings it down. I think you look fine. From what I've seen of your classmates, you'll definitely be the best dressed girl at school today. The heels look good as well. How do they feel?"

"Good, I guess. Comfortable."

I took a last bite of my toast and checked the time. Max would be there any second. "I have to go brush my teeth."

Right when I was patting my mouth dry, trying my best not mess up my lipstick, I heard the bell ring. I breathed deep again and smiled at the mirror. I hoped Max liked the outfit.

When I appeared, she smiled at me appreciatively. "I think I'm underdressed."

She was sporting a pink girl's cut Oxford, dark blue jeans and flat loafers in brown. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail again. "I think you look great. Very preppy."

"And you look like you just stepped off the runway."

I sniffed playfully. "I guess you'll just have to smarten yourself up if you are going to be with me."

Mama shook her head. "Go on children, you'll be late for class."

"Bye Mrs. Petrovitch."

"Have a good day, Max. And take care of my little girl."

"Mama," I whined just a little.

Max escorted me to the car and held the door for me until I figured out a way to get into the car without flashing her, which she really enjoyed. This time, when I got out at the school parking lot, I felt confident and not the least bit worried about what the day held.

My heels clicked on the pavement and my stride was controlled enough to let go of Max's arm. In its place, I felt her steadying hand at my lower back guiding me along. Again, we were the object of everyone's stares as we entered the building. Mr. Parsons was standing by the office door and gave me an inquiring glance, eyeing my jacket and my bare legs in high heels. His eyebrows raised slightly, but he didn't say anything. I was safe enough with the school dress code allowing one inch above the knee.

I gave him a pretty smile and waved a little before Max led me toward my locker and English class.

"Have you been seeing everyone's faces?" she whispered.

With my class reader in my bag, I closed it. "I don't think I'm going to be popular with the girls."

"They're jealous. You're blowing them away today."

I shrugged. "Once upon a time, students had to look good at school. Now it's a contest to see how bad you can look and get away with. I'd swear they'd wear those ugly flannel pajama pants if they could get away with it."

Max snickered. "We do agree on that. Sometimes I want to slap whoever came up with that trend."

"Holy crap" Was one of the explicatives, among other of the like, I heard when I entered English. I appeared to totally ignore the chatter as I made my way to my corner seat. The boy from yesterday was there and his eyes followed me the entire way. When I arrived I sat my bag on the table and gave him a small smile.

"Hello."

He licked his lips and glanced down at my legs. "New clothes now, I see."

I nodded and swept my dress under my butt before sitting and crossing my legs. The hemline showed almost half of my smooth thigh. I could see how the dress code was actually a good thing. If it rode up any higher, I'd almost be naked from the waist down. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but I'd be conscious of the amount of skin I was showing instead of the lesson plan which was detrimental to my schooling.

"I'm tired of the sloppy styles and thought I'd brighten the place up a little."

He smiled and his eyes moved from my legs to the exposed portion of my cleavage. "You've got my attention."

"Thank you. That's nice of you to say."

"Don't mention it."

More people filed in and after they sat, I was pointed out and more whispers filled the air, among which I heard. "She's hot." And something that followed which was "That's not a she. It's a he." Which was ended with a firm denial. "Bullshit. She was just running a scam and everyone fell for it." That one I had to smile at.

The boy leaned in again and whispered. "Are you sure that you're a guy?"

I snickered. "Uh-huh. Pretty sure."

Once I'd pulled out my notebook, I played around with the Mont Blanc for a few minutes to see what the difference was. Needless to say, that was something else I had to practice with in the near future. I capped it and put it back in its purse, replacing it in my bag.

Mr. Banner entered, eyed me and shook his head before calling roll. We'd gotten five minutes into the day's lecture when I saw one of the girls in the middle of the class raise her hand. When called upon, she lowered it and looked as troubled as she could.

"Mr. Banner, I'm sorry. I'm having trouble concentrating on you with a transvestite in the class. I don't feel safe anymore."

A few of the guys on the other side of the class broke into snickers.

I immediately raised my hand and didn't wait to be called on. "I'm sorry Mr. Banner I really don't feel safe either. The person that's calling me a transvestite is rumored to perform oral favors on half of the starting line up on the football team. Lethal STD's could be floating around even as she speaks."

That's when the class broke into chaos.

Seven of us were sitting in the front office waiting for our turn with the assistant principal. Guess who was last?

The bell went off while I waited and I saw Max through the glass that was the wall to the hallway. I finger-waved at her and she kind of half-waved back at me. She didn't look happy at all, so I shrugged in helplessness. Max tapped her watch and flashed a two and three sign at me which I took to mean that she'd see me between classes. I nodded and waved again.

Another fifteen minutes passed and I finally got called in.

Mr. Parsons didn't look happy to see me for the second day in a row. "I'm getting kind of tired of this Sasha."

I swept my dress under and gracefully sat then crossed my legs. "Imagine how I feel. I've been dealing with this abuse ever since I came to this school. Yet nobody in authority does anything about it."

He let that one go for now and looked down at his notes. "It says here that you verbally assaulted Carolyn Danvers, claiming that she performs sexual favors to the entire football team, and has AIDS."

I shook my head. "I said there was a rumor of oral favors, not sexual, and I also said half the starting line up, not the entire team. That would be somewhat unrealistic. Plus, I never said she had AIDS. I said that there may be lethal STD's in the air. All of these statements are true to my knowledge."

He raised his eyebrows. "All because she said there was a transvestite in the room. That seems to be a true statement as well."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Pick up a decent dictionary, sir. Look up Transvestite. You'll find that it is a term used to describe a person that dresses in the clothing of the opposite gender. You'll also find in the better dictionaries that they do so for sexual gratification. Crossdresser would be a more accurate term. Being an educator at one time I'd think that you would have known this. Personally I think Transgender would be the best descriptive term due to the growth of my breasts and general feminine appearance in spite of my actual masculine genetic standing."

"Transgender."

I nodded. "It's a noun. A person appearing or attempting to be a member of the opposite sex, as a transsexual or habitual cross-dresser. As such, I am appearing to be the opposite sex and due to the number of girls clothes in my closet currently, I'd definitely say habitual-crossdresser would be apt."

Mr. Parsons looked at me in a strange attempt to stare me down. I didn't want to play his game so I looked down and brushed some imaginary lint off of my blazer.

"Be that as it may, I can't allow you to disrupt class. This makes two days in a row, and…"

"It was Carolyn Danvers that disrupted Mr. Banner's class and I see you've already dismissed her. Was there any punishment involved for verbally attacking me or disrupting class?"

"That is between Carolyn and myself."

I grabbed my bag and stood. "Then we're through here, sir."

He stood and pushed his chair back. "Sit down, Mr. Petrovitch."

"Have I broken any rules for the dress code?"

"That's beside the point, even with your flaunting…" He cut himself off before digging any deeper.

"Flaunting?" I raised my voice. "I'm better dressed that anyone in the school and I'm flaunting?" I was so pissed I was about to say stupid things, but I calmed myself. "Be very careful about the next words out of your mouth, about me and my character, Mr. Parsons. Currently I have witnessed and become victim to sexual discrimination, denial of my first amendment right to free speech and freedom of expression, and now you are skirting dangerously close to verbal abuse of a student under your care."

"Go home, Mr. Petrovitch. You are welcome to attend school when you have returned, dressed more appropriately."

He called me on it. I was stunned and I obviously showed it, because he smiled. So, I'd call him on it as well. "No."

"No?"

"No. School is in session and I am enrolled as a student. I don't want the unexcused absence on my record. You are obligated by law to provide me with an education."

I watched as he picked up his phone. "I need security in my office."

This wasn't fair! I'd bluffed the whole lawyer thing. I had no idea how to go about involving the ACLU and I knew my family couldn't afford an actual attorney. And all the worse. I couldn't talk to Max.

By the time I'd walked home, my feet and ankles were killing me and I had a blister on the back of my heel where the shoe was rubbing. The inside phone rang as I was trying to open the door, and kept dropping the key.

"Hello."

"Sasha?" Max sounded worried.

"Max, they kicked me out of school!"

"Where are you now?"

I sniffed and rubbed my nose. "Trying to get my stupid key to work at my house."

"Look, baby. Don't worry. I've got this. You just take the day and do something to make you happy. I just need to know what happened, specifically."

I told him the whole sordid tale from beginning to end as best as I could remember. When I got to the end, I could swear Max was going to meet Mr. Parsons in an alley somewhere and deprive him of his manhood, but at the same time he sounded elated. "Are you sure about what he said? Those were his exact words?"

"Yeah."

"Sit tight, baby. I'll have you in school no later than tomorrow morning and you'll have a public apology not to mention a few other things. Trust me."

"I do."

"I gotta go make some calls."

"Okay, bye."

Not having really worn my outfit for any length of time, I took it off and hung it back up, then changed into peach-colored linen shorts with a cute belt that I'd tied in a big bow, and my white scoop-neck. I put some ointment on my heel and a big band-aid so it wouldn't get infected then I sat down at my laptop.

After a little searching I found a site on calligraphy and started practicing with the blue ink, the least of my favorites, trying desperately to get my mind off of what happened at school. While Max was my hero in quite a few ways, I doubted whether even she could pull off having me in school the next day. On the way home I'd resolved never to go back to wearing the compression vest and being the meek little school mouse afraid of his own shadow.

When my hand started hurting about an hour later I capped the pen and set it back in its pouch, storing it away in my bag. With nothing else to do I started surfing makeup sites, looking for something, I didn't know what. The holy blending pallet or something. I'd learned a lot about real application and the effects certain products have on skin. It was all very fascinating. So much so that I actually put my troubles into their own little hole in my head and was startled when the phone rang.

When I restarted my heart, I answered. "Hello."

"Sasha, it's me."

"Max," my breathing increased and I felt a warmth in my chest.

"Listen, I don't have much time. I'm in the bathroom, but I made a few contacts. Someone is going to call you in a few minutes. They aren't playing around, okay."

"Uh…"

She chuckled a little. "Trust me. Everything is on the level. I didn't want you hanging up on them thinking it was a prank."

"Why would I think…"

"Sorry baby, I gotta go. Good luck."

Ugh! The second I hung up the phone, it rang again. "Okay. I think I'm going to need some heart pills if this keeps up. Hello."

"Hello, may I please speak with Sasha Petrovitch?"

The lady on the other end sounded… authoritative, if that was actually decipherable over the phone. "Speaking."

"Sasha, my name is Sarah Perkins. I'm a researcher for Grant Strongholme at KPHX news. If you have time, I'd like to ask you a few questions about an incident at your high school this morning."

I recognized the name of the guy she was researching for. He was famous in town for digging up whistleblowers, taking down corrupt politicians, you name it. If someone did something illegal and they were in power, then they might as well kiss their butts along with their careers goodbye.

I swallowed thinking of the implications. How in the heck did Max manage this? "Uh, okay."

She ran through the story I told Max, almost word for word. Verifying the names, and times things happened. Then she got into what my life was like since I started high school, my medical conditions and the reasons I started dressing the way I wanted to. We talked for what seemed like forever, but was in fact a little more than two hours. When we were done I was emotionally drained and more than a little tired.

"Thank you for taking the time to go over all of this with me, Miss Petrovitch." By that time she'd known all about me being a boy, but she gave me the female honorific at the end. "I want to run this by Mr. Strongholme, but I already know what he'll say. Would you mind if I contacted the ACLU on your behalf?"

I nearly cried. "No, I wouldn't mind at all, thank you."

"I'm sure we'll talk again soon, Miss Petrovitch. But just in case, I'd like to tell you good luck."

"Thank you." I hung up and rubbed at my ear.

I looked at the clock and noted that it was almost time for school to let out. My mouth was parched after all of that talking and I grabbed a soda and took a seat by the front window to wait for my girlfriend. It didn't take long. Five minutes after the last bell would have rang I saw Max's car race into the driveway. I met her at the front porch.

"Sorry it took me so long. I had to take care of a few things."

I sighed into her neck and squeezed her as tight as I could before letting go. "How did you get the local news to call me about this?"

She shrugged. "I know people who know people. They live for this kind of crap. It's like throwing raw meat to a pit bull. Parsons is an idiot. I can't believe that he'd actually think he could get away with doing this."

Max was grinning like she knew something that I didn't know.

"Have you told me everything you've done already?"

Her face shifted to appear angelic. "Who me?"

I raised my brow to her and waited.

"Ugh, fine torture me already." She sighed. "Do you trust me?"

I nodded. "Good, grab your purse and lets go."

I looked down at myself. "Do I need to change?"

"No," he said as if I'd mentioned something stupid. "You look great. You might need some shoes though."

Dipping into the closet I retrieved the other pair of shoes that Mama got me, a pair of goddess sandals in a neutral tan. Apparently sandals that looked like someone stepped in from ancient Greece were in at the moment.

The back strap gripped just under my band-aid so there wasn't an issue there. I grabbed my bag and locked up before hopping in the car. "Where are we going?"

She just smiled at me.

"Maaax," I whined.

"I've decided that you've had a rough couple of days and you need some pampering."

I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she hadn't let me down so far, so I let her have her secrets. Thirty minutes later we pulled up to an office building.

I looked up through the windshield. "There's pampering in here?"

Max nodded. "Uh-huh."

We walked through the lobby, past security who didn't even bat an eye as us and then past a bank of elevators to a single door that also looked like an elevator. Max pulled out her wallet and withdrew a card which she inserted in to the provided slot to the side. The door immediately opened and we climbed aboard. After choosing the seventeenth floor, Max waited for me to say something, but I just smiled and reached for her hand.

"Are you doing something over the top?"

She grinned happily. "I can honestly say that I won't be spending a dime while we are here."

My free hand found my bag. "Should I have brought more money?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Don't worry, it's all been taken care of. Like I said before, I know people who know people."

I frowned. "I thought you just moved here."

"I did. My Mom got shipped overseas and I live with my Dad now. You already know this."

When the elevator dinged to let us know we'd arrived, I waited for the door to open. We stepped into a lobby of sorts. A receptionist smiled and stood up from her desk. "Miss Slade. Your father said you would be by with a friend and we were to give you the run of the house."

There was one of those big logo things behind the desk, hanging on the wall. It looked really familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"Thank you, Sharon. This is Sasha and she's here for the works."

The receptionist nodded. "Of course. If you'll just follow me, we'll get her started."

I held Max back for a second. "Your father called? Does he own this place?"

"Something like that."

I just breathed a sigh at Max's secrets. He never would say what his parents did for a living, only that she was taken care of and happy.

The works consisted of my receiving a half hour massage, manicure, pedicure, highlights in my hair, and a slight change in style. They angled my bob a little. Not too much to be severe, but noticeable nonetheless. The final touch was a professional makeover. The makeup artist, I found out was brought in specifically for me, taught me how to play up my strengths and minimize my problem areas. She worked with me for an hour and a half teaching me as she went.

The odd part was when she called Max in to tote away what looked like a large silver toolkit. When the lesson was over, I looked like a totally different person. I was stylish and not merely pretty. She'd told me that everything we'd used didn't contain any of the nasty crap that over the counter cosmetics had in them to spontaneously make girls across the country break out in pimples and dry spots so they could sell them something else that didn't really work. It had the plus side of lasting all day no matter what my activity level. The only thing I'd have to touch up on occasion was my gloss. I was in love with this stuff.

By the time I made it out to the lobby on the seventeenth floor, Max was waiting for me with a grin on her face. "Have fun?"

I nodded. "Thanks, that's just what I needed and I learned so much."

"You look stunning. I'm afraid to kiss you. I'd mess you up."

I puckered up. "Kiss away. I have some gloss in my bag."

She called the elevator and showed me how much she liked my lips. We stopped when we heard the ding and entered the car. The receptionist was open-mouthed and staring at our display. Before the doors closed Max called out. "Don't worry, Sharon. She's a guy and my boyfriend."

The door closed right at the last part, so I smacked Max on the arm. "Quit torturing the help."

"What's in the toolbox?"

"Hmm?"

I pointed in the back seat. "The toolbox back there."

"Oh, something my dad sent along." My eyes narrowed. "You can call him if you want. I told you I didn't spend a dime today. And believe me, it didn't cost him anything either."

I frowned. "He knows people that know people."

A big grin stretched her face and showed a cute dimple on her cheek. "Now your getting the hang of it."

"So what is it?"

I tried to reach back to pull it up front but the sucker must have weighted twenty or thirty pounds. I'd have to wait. I hated waiting, especially where presents were involved. I'm really not a nice person on the days leading up to my birthday and Christmas. Mama and Papa would have to wait until the day before to do any shopping because I'd always find where the presents were hidden. I never peeked, but it wasn't my fault if sometimes the present was too big to wrap or they hadn't gotten around to wrapping them yet. They should have known better.

"What time is it?"

"Six-thirty." I nearly freaked but she cut me off before I got a good burn-on. "I already called your mom and filled her in on everything, and told her where you've been."

That kind of surprised me. "How'd she take it?"

Max shrugged. "Lets just say that I'm kind of glad I don't understand Serbian. I probably would have learned a few choice ways to castrate someone. But I'm pretty sure I remember most of the curses she said. She's got a serious mean-on for Parsons at the moment."

That was my mom. Nobody hurt her family. I think she was the one that those people who make up sayings and stuff modeled after the term mama-bear.

"I got her calmed, I think."

"How'd you do that?"

"I told her what I was doing."

More smiles and more secrets.

When we'd arrived at home, Max grabbed the tool chest and toted it in behind me. Mama was waiting at the front door for me with a hug followed by Papa, who surprisingly enough shook Max's hand. Whoa.

"Thank you for what you did today, Max. We are in your debt."

"I did it for Sasha, sir. I want to see him happy is all."

I watched as Papa pressed his lips together and nodded once in acceptance. He eyed the toolbox, but didn't get a chance to complain.

"It didn't cost anything sir. My father has people that he does things for. In return they offer him incentives to advertise their products to his clients. This is one of them that he thought Sasha would enjoy."

I tugged on my mother's sleeve. "Mama, she won't tell me what's inside." I grinned. "Make her tell me."

Mama rolled her eyes and looked at Max. She took a hint and laughed. "I just wanted to wait until we got you home."

She looked around. "Where can I set this that wont accidentally scratch anything?"

"On the coffee table, dear. Sasha use the afghan."

I zipped around to the sofa and sat down, the afghan was draped over the top of the couch. I folded it and laid it across the table. Max set the toolbox down and flipped the secure latches on the sides and top before opening. "Remember, this didn't cost anything."

I looked at him and then down at the case. It split open and split itself in half. As it did something from the middle extended up and out making three levels on one side and the other side popped up a rectangular lighted mirror. What the heck?

There were dozens of little jars of various sizes that contained…

I inhaled sharply. "No way," I gasped in disbelief.

"What is that?" asked Papa.

Mama answered. "Consider yourself lucky, Dusho moja. You probably won't have to pay for Sasha's makeup for the next year or two."

One level was nothing but tools of the trade and all the rest was enough makeup to keep me busy for ages. "Oh my God. It's Lica!"

Papa was clueless, and even Mama didn't know what I was talking about. Max clued them in. "Lica is the cosmetic company that supplied all of this. My father had one of their representatives come down and teach Sasha how to professionally do her makeup. She wearing their product now."

"Mama, this… this…" I picked up a palm sized jar of glittery powered substance. "This is like sixty-five dollars just by itself." Looking up at Max, I asked in complete disbelief. "This was free?"

She nodded. "Dad knows a lot of really rich people. Occasionally they all get together and Dad does this thing where he prepares gift baskets. You've seen the stuff all the people at the Academy Awards get just for coming?" I nodded. "Same concept. Usually there's a few samples of a single manufacturer in a basket. The rich people take it home and use it then buy their own, blah blah blah, word of mouth to their friends, or if they're in the public eye, free advertisement."

Ah.

"So Lica sends this to Dad, kind of like a bribe. Since he doesn't have a wife or girlfriend at the moment and I barely use makeup, he offered it to me to give to you."

"It's makeup," said Papa like he still didn't get it.

"Papa, this is like the best makeup in the world. The Rolls Royce of makeup." His eyebrows rose and he inhaled a little, bored-like. He still wasn't impressed. I grabbed another jar that was almost hand-sized filled with little beads with twisty heads. "These are Magic Capsules, well not real magic, that's its name. This costs two hundred and fifty dollars by itself."

"For makeup?"

My shoulders dropped. "Mama, make him stop."

She ignored me. "What are those Magic Capsules for?"

"Oh, it's anti-aging stuff. This is supposed to work better than anything out there."

She snatched it out of my hand. "Hey!"

"You're not old. Get over it, Sasha," she said with a pleased smile and a look at the little beads.

Papa shook his head. "Max, a word in the kitchen."

I looked worried for my girlfriend and Mama sat down beside me to look through the makeup case. "Do not worry so much, child. Your father is bonding with your boyfriend. Max impressed him with his quick thinking and action on your behalf. He's going to give him his blessing to court you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Here, you don't need these either." She swiped a bottle of Age-Defying Eye Gel and a bottle of Skin Repair Serum as well.

"This is so awesome."

Mama looked at me and her smile dropped. "Use a different word, Sasha. You know better."

She hated it when I used 'awesome' or 'like' in sentences. She says it shows low intelligence and lack of verbal skills. This time I didn't care. Awesome was the perfect word for this particular present. "Max is going to spoil me rotten, Mama."

She snorted just a little. "A present every day he's known you. I'd say so. Just don't come to expect them and don't take him for granted for giving them to you. Be gracious and make sure he doesn't receive certain rewards for the gifts, if you take my meaning. Those rewards should only be given for the love he shows you when the glittery things are not around to dazzle either of you."

"Max is so thoughtful when she's not trying to act like a guy."

"It is an act?"

I shrugged. "Sort of. I know she's not fond of all the feminine things for herself, but I think she thinks she's expected to act a certain way in order to be taken seriously. Sometime the things she says are silly. But I kind of like that she calls me babe on occasion."

Mama shook her head. "You will let me know how to refer to your Max then, soon. I do not want to offend him or her by using an unwanted pronoun."

I shook my head. "I don't think she'd be offended. There are already people who are referring to me as a girl even thought it's common knowledge I'm a boy. She's heard them and hasn't said anything, and believe me, she would if she didn't like it."

"He has defended your honor already?"

I winced a little. "Twice. Once when I got this bruise from a jerk bumping into me. Max clanged his head into the door jamb. The other time was yesterday when that jerk that hurt me at the beginning of ninth grade showed up to cause trouble." I sighed. "I'm pretty sure if there weren't people around and a teacher coming, that Max would have hurt him for scaring me. He just got away with his hand, arm and finger almost being twisted off."

"He does not know about that specific boy being the one that injured you so badly back then?"

I shook my head. "I'm scared about what Max would do to him if she found out."

Mama measured that in her head for a moment before frowning. "Just like your father. If anyone so much as laid a hand on me in anger, your father would make sure they didn't pull it back without a piece missing or painfully altered." She smiled at me. "Our men are passionate in their love for us, Sasha. It makes them act irrationally at times. You must be there to provide the calming influence and step in if necessary to prevent him from going too far."

I returned her smile. "Like you do with Papa."

"He is Dusho moja, child, my soul. You will find out soon enough about what that really means. It is not just a term of endearment for us."

Soon enough, Max and Papa came back out to the living room and I regarded my girlfriend. She looked somewhat relaxed and relieved. "I should get going, Sasha. Dad wants me home for a late dinner."

At the thought of food, my stomach churned. It was then that I realized I hadn't had any lunch either. "I'll walk you out."

Mama stayed where she was and examined some of the jars of eyeliner while Papa again shook his head at the mass of makeup on his coffee table. Hand in hand I walked with Max to the driver's side and stood there.

"Thank you for the gift."

She smiled and leaned down to give me a short kiss. "You're welcome. I like seeing you happy."

I sighed and give her a smile. "Just having you around is enough to make me happy, Max. I really don't need all of the other things."

She nodded. "I understand, really. When my parents split up a few years back, both of them gave me anything I wanted. Everything but them getting back together. That's all I really wanted, so when I didn't get that I punished them by asking for everything. The best clothes, toys, games, computers, jewelry, you name it and it was mine."

Wow. "You cleaned up."

The edge of her mouth quirked. "Not really. Some of the stuff was okay, but most of it never made it out of the package. Eventually I got over it and now I only really ask for stuff that I need." She looked at the Corolla. "Like this. It's a nice reliable car. Gas mileage is good and it serves my needs. If I wanted, I could have gotten my mom to take me to the Porsche dealership."

I stood there for a moment thinking about what it's going to be like to be involved with such a rich person. My family has usually been well off, comfortable. I'd never been exposed to the high life before.

"Sasha, I want you to have everything you want."

Moving into her, I hugged her waist and snuggled my face into her neck. "I've already got everything right here… well, maybe the makeup case too. That'll be everything." At her laugh I added, "I've got to look pretty for you. So, it's not really a want as it is a need."

I sniffed and pulled back. "Have you been drinking?"

"Uh… your dad insisted we do some sort of Serbian deal sealing pact or something. It was just half a shot glass of some type of brandy."

My eyebrows lifted in curiosity and wonder.

"He gave me his blessing to officially court you. Apparently he likes it when people who mess with his family get smacked down."

I covered my mouth and laughed. "Oh, you've got the seal of approval then. Papa is very serious about his brandy."

"Good." Then she looked back at the house. "We're supposed to go out to the golf course this weekend. I have no idea how to play golf. He's supposed to teach me."

"Really?" Wow, dad really did give his seal of approval. He hates playing with beginners.

"Yeah, he kept calling me 'son'. It was weird."

"Oh crap, sorry. Mama and Papa have been using feminine pronouns for me and masculine for you. I forgot to ask if that would bother you."

She shrugged. "I guess not. I mean we're kind of asking for it. Does it bother you?"

I shook my head. "I kind of like it."

Her hands slid down to my hips. "Do you want me to do the same?"

I shrugged shyly and looked forward at her chest. "If you want." My eyes darted up and met hers. "I could call you my boyfriend now."

"Deal."

Something about that moment solidified in my heart. I knew that from that moment on that I would never be a boy again. Warring thoughts over the last couple of days had me second-guessing my decision to put myself through so much upheaval, but deep down I knew this was a defining decision for me and that I loved everything that meant being feminine.

It was fate that brought Max into my life a few days ago, but it was me that had finally realized in what direction my life was supposed to go. A few inches of flesh and its accompanying baggage didn't define who I was inside, neither did the side effects of the medicine I was taking for my thyroid. Male and female were mixed together in my body, but femininity ruled my spirit as it seemed masculinity ruled Max's.

My hands traveled upward to Max's shoulders. I brushed his small breasts on the way up and then palmed the back of his neck to pull him down to my lips in a final kiss for the evening. It was sweet and soft, full of the beginnings of how I felt for him. We hadn't known each other for long, but that was inconsequential at the moment. It felt like I'd known him for years, the other side of my soul that had been missing, making me incomplete, was now here filling me with passion and desire, completing me in ways that I hadn't thought possible. He was the other half of my soul. Dusho moja.

I shuttered at the realization and dropped back down. My heart was pounding and my breath rapidly increasing. Max's eyes glittered in the low sun as he searched my face. Did he feel the same way toward me? Had he realized that we were meant to be together forever? Should I say something, tell him I love him?

I quashed the feeling. Not yet. It might scare him off, and that would crush me. Instead I smiled longingly and stepped out of his embrace.

"Be ready for school tomorrow. Dress in something professional, conservative, feminine. Nothing too revealing."

I just nodded at his instructions, afraid that if I opened my mouth that I would ruin everything with professed feelings of love that he might not be ready for just yet.

"I'll pick you up a little earlier than normal, about twenty minutes, okay."

I just nodded again.

He looked at me with his head cocked slightly to the side, like he was trying to figure something out. "Are you okay?"

Stupidly, another nod confirmed my okayness.

He smiled at me and then hopped into his car, waving as he drove away. Slowly, I shuffled into the house and closed the front door. Mama and Papa were chatting on the sofa. With the door locked, I leaned my back up against it and stared off into space.

"Sasha."

My attention was drawn to my mother, seeing the concerned look on her face. "Ohh, child. You see it now don't you?'

Expectant eyes met mine. I swallowed weakly and nodded.

"What?" asked Papa, oblivious to what Mama realized.

She stood and stepped from behind the coffee table. "Your daughter has found her love, Dusho moja. She's just now seen the possibilities."

Moments later I was in Mama's arms and hearing her whisper in my ear. "Remember this moment, Sasha. Wrap it around you when you feel overwhelmed and unsure of yourself. It is powerful and unyielding. I am so happy for you."

Warm tears fell from my eyes as I hugged her back. Mama understood. "This is what you feel for Papa?"

"Of course, child. He is my rock in the storm of my life. Without him I would not have you, the greatest gift he has ever given me. Of course he is my soul."

She stood back to look at my face. "Come, let's go to your room and you can tell me all about the moment, as I told my mother and she told her mother before her."

Papa looked concerned and thoughtful as he always did. I wondered what he was thinking, but let Mama lead me to my room and the comfort of my bed.

To be Continued...

Author's note: The second part is finished and going through editing at the moment... and just as long. 55,000+ words so far
2nd Author's note: This is a mildly unrealistic romance, mainly because it will be moving so fast. Otherwise this story would go on forever. So I hope you don't let it take away from the enjoyment of your reading.