Totally Insane 33–Class-ifications.
by Angharad

“So how was my little girl’s first day at school?” asked my mother when she came home. I hadn’t been home long, because Hanky-pankies is further away than my old school.

Thankfully, Gemma was in several of my sets, so I had at least one friend. I related this to my mother who gave me a hug.

“I’m sure you’ll make loads of friends once you’ve been there a while.”

“Well I didn’t in the boy’s school did I?”

“We know why, now, don’t we?”

“What d’you mean, Mummy?”

“Because you’re a girl.”

“I’d have thought a girl in a boy’s school would have loads of friends.”

“Kylie, don’t be so silly, we didn’t know you were a girl then, did we? Even you didn’t really know–we just knew you were a bit different.”

“Only a teensy weensy little bit, Mummy–duh!” They all thought I was a prize pansy and some would have liked to plant me in the ground too.

“Don’t be cheeky–now, what lessons did you have?” I told her as I made us both a cuppa. This didn’t seem right, she was sitting at the table taking her shoes off and I was making the tea. Shouldn’t it be the other way round–I mean, I’m the one who had the traumatic day?

“There’s a good girl,” she said putting her arm round my waist as I offered her mug of char, “looking after your old mum.”

“How come you’re not making me one? I mean, I’m the one who’s had the harder day.”

“Oh don’t be unkind to me, sweetie, we’re getting ready for an Ofsted inspection, it’s absolute hell there at the moment.”

“But at least you weren’t dreading that they could discover you were a boy at any moment.”

“Neither should you be–you’re a girl, and that’s that–you took your pill this morning?”

“Course–I’m not likely to forget it am I?”

“No ill effects?”

“You mean like making me want to have mad passionate sex with Philip?”

Tea exploded everywhere–that had to be the best one yet. Once she’d stopped coughing, and wiped her eyes, and I’d cleared up the mess of tea, she glared at me and I played innocent.

“You know jolly well what I meant, young lady, I meant any morning sickness or feeling ill generally?”

“Nah, I feel great, better than great, I feel like a girl.” I was sure I could feel the her-mones zipping around my system, yep, my boobs were at least two fat cells bigger than yesterday.

“Kylie, stop trying to wind me up, the fact that I got half a cup of tea up my nose should qualify as having got one over on me, so stop it–we’re not in competition, you know.”

“I know, Mummy, I’m sorry about the tea.”

“Okay, luvvie, why don’t you change out those clothes and start making the dinner while I go and shower.”

“Can I go over and see Auntie Em and Sarah, first?”

“You mean, may I go and see Auntie Emma?”

“Yeah, like whatever.”

“Kylie, it costs nothing to speak properly and it often impresses people.”

Yeah, snobs like you, Mamma. I didn’t say anything just sat patiently.

“Go on then, don’t be long–have you got any homework?”

“A bit: gotta do some geography, something about volcanoes–they like have them in Iceland.”

“Yes, I know, they call it the land of fire and ice”

“I thought volcanoes only happened in hot countries, like Japan and Hawaii.”

“What about Italy and America.”

“They have volcanoes too?”

“Yes, look up Mount St Helen’s on the internet, that’s in North America.”

“Wow, okay.”

“There’s also a huge one under Yellowstone National Park, which could go at any time.”

“Gosh, what’s Yogi Bear gonna do, Mummy?”

She glowered at me, “One of these days young lady, you’ll get so sharp you’ll cut yourself. Go and see Emma and Sarah before I change my mind.”

With an ultimatum like that, I skipped out the door and across the road to Auntie Em’s.

“Oh Kylie you do look smart, and the plaits, too.” Before I knew it she’d taken a photo of me, I’ll do you a couple of copies, I thought your Nan might like one.”

“Shouldn’t I be holding a board with a number on it?”

She looked at me in bewilderment, then laughed as she realised what I’d said. “Kylie, you are so funny.” Sarah heard us laughing and began to giggle.

We chatted for a few minutes and I told her I’d have to go back to provide the child labour on which the empire was founded.

Auntie Em laughed; “You should be a stand up-comic, Kylie, you’d have them all in stitches.”

“Talking of which, I survived my first needlework class.”

“Oh well done, but you’re quite a good seamstress aren’t you?”

“I can sew on the odd button and I did repair Brian’s jeans, I do a bit of embroidery, but I haven’t actually made anything yet, although I did help Gemma with her skirt–she was trying to do the lining.”

“You’re so helpful, how did we ever think you were a boy?”

“Dunno–but I did too–at the time.”

“You really are such a brave young woman, aren’t you?”

“It’s nothing for an everyday super-heroine.” I blushed as I spoke.

“Go on, off with you, I’ll drop the photos over later.”

“If you email me them, I could send one on to Nan myself.”

“If you promise me you will.”

“Yeah, course I do–I mean it’s not like it’s one of me as a dorky boy, is it? The last one she had of me then, I looked like a girl in boy’s clothes.”

“I didn’t actually think of you as such, we just knew you as the quiet kid who played with locks. I’m glad you’ve blossomed so much since you realised who you were.”

I blushed again, was I that ineffectual a boy? It sure looked that way, or so everyone kept telling me. Or were they just trying to make me feel better, just to boost my spirits? Would Auntie Em do that? I mean try to make me feel good–or would she tell me the truth? I hoped the latter.

“If you want to do some dressmaking, let me know, I’ve got some material for a dress we could make together, and I’ve a pattern which would look quite nice on you.”

“Hey, that would be really good, p’raps in the school hols, Auntie Em?”

“Yes, okay, unless you get a better offer.”

I hugged her and gave Sarah a little tickle and a kiss, then went back home to change out of my uniform. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, mind you, it was reasonably warm–in winter with a gale blowing up my knickers; it would be very different.

I changed into a skirt and top and slipped on my Crocs, then scuffed down the stairs and looked in the fridge to see what we were having for dinner. There were four chicken breasts: I got them out and washed them, then popped them in a meat tray thing and after scattering various things like Chicken seasoning and salt and pepper, put them in the preheated oven, which Mummy must have switched on.

I was doing the potatoes when Brian came in–“Hi, slave, get me a coke, will ya?”

“I’m busy, get your own.” I continued with task of washing the new potatoes and he grabbed my bra strap and let it go. I squealed but by the time I’d turned around, he was gone and Mummy was talking loudly to him somewhere upstairs. I wish I could get him to wear one so I could tweak his–the cretin.

I put the potatoes on and started on the baby carrots, I washed them and topped and tailed them then put them in an ovenproof dish with some butter–Auntie Em had shown me that, and popped it in the oven too.

Finally, I cut the florets off the stalk of broccoli and washed them, then left them to drain in the steamer. They’d go on top of the potatoes a bit later. While everything was cooking, I sat down and started my homework. I read the textbook, the school had loaned me–blow, volcanoes do occur all over the place and now I remembered they wiped out Pompeii–well one of them did, Mount Vesuvius.

We have a bit of that somewhere–I think Daddy brought it back when he went to Sicily years ago–but I think it was a while after the eruption which destroyed Pompeii. I’m sure Daddy said the piece of pumice was still hot even though it had been eighteen months since the previous eruption. Wow it musta been very hot then.

Where’s Sicily? God knows, better get the Atlas out. We have a set of Encyclopaedia Britannica plus their atlas–I don’t usually use it because it’s so big. Brian has a Sunday Times one up in his room–last seen it was under his bed along with stinky socks, ten year old fluff and old sweet wrappers. I suspect there’s probably a brain eating mould in there which grows on his dirty underpants–ewwwch, I’ll make myself sick if I carry on like this.

Oh, it’s next to Italy–or part of Italy–of course, it’s where the Mafia come from. So with an active volcano and the Mafia, it must be very dangerous place to be–don’t think I want to go there–I saw this bit in a film Brian was watching, where they put a horse’s head in somebody’s bed–ugh. He likes horrible things like that, I don’t. Hang about, it’s Etna on Sicily, so where’s Vesuvius?

Gosh, Italy has three volcanoes: Etna on Sicily; Vesuvius which popped Pompeii is near Naples, and Stromboli is on a small island near Sicily. Sounds like an ice cream or a musical instrument. Which ice cream would you like Kylie? I’ll have a Stromboli with chocolate sauce–or maybe–he played Amazing Grace on the Stromboli. I chuckled at my own silliness which made Mummy ask what I was up to? I told her about the ice cream joke–she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh, you’ve put the dinner on–good girl, pity your brother isn’t as useful.”

“He has one use,” I opined.

“He has?” she sounded surprised.

“Yeah, he’s like so smelly, he keeps the flies up his end of the house.”

“That’s enough of that, Kylie–I thought you were going to tell me he was protective of you, or something constructive.”

“The pig snapped my bra strap–is that constructive enough?” I asked querulously.

“I’m afraid that’s all part of being a girl, Kylie. If he was younger he’d be pulling your pigtails too.”

“He’d better not,” I snapped.

“Better not what?” echoed the familiar croak of my toad-like brother.

“Snap my bra strap again.”

“I don’t know why you wear one, seen more tit on a baby’s bottle.”

“Brian–that is vulgar and I don’t want to hear you using that sort of language in this house.”

I was almost apoplectic with indignation so couldn’t say anything.

“Well it’s true, she’s flatter than an anorexic pancake.”

At this point I collapsed in tears and let go the Atlas. Gravity and serendipity saw it land on Brian’s foot. Boy did he squeal and he swore at me. I suspect he’d have hit me too if Mummy hadn’t been there.

She was too busy laughing to take his injury seriously, but when Daddy came home, he took him to the local hospital to get it X-rayed. Seems I broke his toe–hee-hee–which only goes to prove that learning beats brute force every time.

They don’t do anything for a broken toe except give him pain killers, so he was limping around making idle threats the rest of the evening. The only one which worried me was when he threatened to let some of his ex-girlfriends know I was going to their school.

“It was an accident.” I pleaded, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Like hell, you little pervert–still I suppose your girly pills stop you having muscle, so we can hardly settle this like men, can we?”

“Certainly not–I’m a girl, if you hadn’t noticed,” I huffed.

“Yeah, so Gonnersall thinks, but he might be the only one.”

I started to sniff, and he decided he wouldn’t push his luck. He knew that Daddy would retaliate on my behalf if he went too far. He limped into his bedroom and shut his door loudly, a moment later there was a loud bellow of pain. I rushed in just in case he’d really hurt himself–he’d walked into the leg of his bed bumping his painful toe. Satisfied he was alright I walked away with a large smirk on my face.

I finished my homework and fell asleep very quickly. I did dream that Brian called his ex-girlfriends and they grabbed me and pulled off my top and bra–but instead of being flat-chested like your average boy, I had a pair of boobs. No one was more surprised than I was but they just laughed at me and walked away–then the head mistress walked up as I was standing there naked but for my skirt. She said something very sarcastic and strode away and I was left crying as I redressed. I woke up needing a wee and discovered it was only eleven o’clock and my parents were still downstairs.

The next morning I felt tired as Mummy dragged me out of bed at an unearthly hour. “C’mon, girl, get yourself dressed, I’ve put a fresh blouse out for you, better take your coat with you, it looks like rain.”

I yawned and struggled out of bed, and then a wave of nausea swept over me and I only just made it to the bathroom, where I emerged a few minutes later watery eyed and with a mouth like a dustbin. I hate being sick. I must be going down with something.

I called down to Mummy.

“C’mon, girl, hurry up–why aren’t you washed and dressed?”

“I’ve been sick. I don’t think I’d better go today, can you tell them I’m sick?”

“No, get your pretty little bum in gear, get yourself washed and dressed and get down here double quick.”

“But I’m ill, I’ve been sick.”

“Tough, you’re going to school, now hurry up.”

I whinged and whined but did as she told me. Then down at the table, she put food in front of me. “I can’t eat that,” I grumbled.

“Yes you can–now hurry up, or I’m going to be late.”

I forced down about half of what she shoved in front of me. She made me take a banana with me together with the cereal bars, which I still had from yesterday–I had three or four now.

“You feel better now, don’t you?”

I did, and had to admit it.

“Have you taken your pill?”

“Oh no,” I rushed back upstairs and popped it from the blister pack and swallowed it quickly.

“Aren’t you wearing any makeup today?”

“I’ll do it at Gemma’s.”

“You realise why you were sick don’t you?”

“Wind?” I speculated but had no real idea.

“Your body thinks you’re pregnant.”

I laughed–she’d finally flipped, probably over the school inspection.

“It’s true–those pills are the same sort of hormones you’d have floating around your body if you were pregnant.”

“What–the pills made me sick?”

“Yes–I did try to warn you, but oh no, you felt great, even better than great–you felt like a girl, a pregnant one–ha ha, serve you right, come on, get your books and let’s go.”

The ten minute journey to Gemma’s house was passed in silence as I digested what she’d said. I’d had morning sickness–oh well, how girly is that? I felt almost proud of it until my tummy started feeling queasy again. I didn’t heave this time, but it was close.

Gemma was still getting ready so Karen helped me with my makeup and hair. “Karen, do you know anything about morning sickness?”

“Why–you’re not preggers are you–that would be some trick if you were.”

“Sort of,” I said quietly.

“You what?” she shrieked.

“Keep your voice down–I had morning sickness this morning, that’s why I didn’t do my own makeup.”

“You mean you were sick–probably wind–you might look like a girl, but c’mon, pull the other one.”

“It was morning sickness–it’s the tablets I’m taking.”

“You’re taking some tablets that make you pregnant?” Her eyes were wide and her tone disbelieving.

“Mummy says the pills I’m taking make my body think it’s pregnant, I have morning sickness.”

“Oh boy, you are something else aren’t you? They won’t give you periods as well, will they?” she giggled and walked away as I blushed.

As the morning wore on, I felt better and managed to get to my classes on time as well as cope with most of the work. I enjoyed my English lit class–they were doing Jane Eyre and I’d already read it, so I knew the story quite well. I even answered a question and got some dirty looks.

We went back to Gemma’s for lunch, Karen was at choir practice again, so it was just the two of us. “It’s awfully good of you to give me lunch like this, Mrs Smith, perhaps I should bring sandwiches?”

“Do you have time to make them, then Kylie?” she threw back at me.

“Um–not really,” I blushed furiously.

“Well then, I have to do something for Gem, so it’s no great ordeal to make an extra meal.”

“I do appreciate it.”

“I know, Kylie, like we appreciate it when you fix things like broken locks.”

“If you have any of those, just let me know.”

“Oh don’t you worry, Kylie, I certainly will.”

It rained on the way back so Mrs Smith drove us back to school, at least I hadn’t carried my coat about for nothing. It felt strange wearing the mackintosh, I felt like a convent girl or a small child, but apparently here, you had to wear one until year ten, then you were able to wear a different coat. Gee whiz, did I make a big mistake–all these rules and regulations, girls seem to have it far tougher than boys and I’d have thought girls were better behaved anyway–maybe not, I suppose I’ll find out sooner or later.

Thanks to Gabi for X-press editing, I sometimes agree with her: Any mistakes still here blame Bonzi - he did the typing.