by Justme

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Chapter 20: Face the music

"She's just been under a lot of stress the past week and I guess it's finally caught up with her." Sounds like Mom, but it's muffled like it's coming through a closed door. Someone's sponging my face with a damp washcloth. I open my eyes and it turns out it's Livy. I'm in my bed.

"Uhhh. I did it again, didn't I? I feel like such a wimp." A nauseated wimp. But I don't quite need to throw up. Yet, anyway.

"Sh-h-h. You can't help it. No one thinks less of you. We just worry about you, that's all."

"I wish I knew why I do this."

"It's OK, Joey--"

Knock, knock. The door cracks open and Mom comes in quietly, followed by Aunt Kathy. "I see we're back with the living."

"That's debatable." I still feel like I did that time I spun around in Grandfather's office chair for like five straight minutes.

That gets a loud laugh out of Aunt Kathy. Apparently she's easily amused. "Same ol' Joey. That sense of humor will get you through a lot, hun. Don't ever lose it."

I roll my eyes and put a hand on my stomach. "Right now I'm more worried about losing something else. Mom, could you get me something to use for a barf bag? Just in case."

"Sure, sweetie." Maybe that was a mistake, 'cause now she's not here to run interference on Aunt Kathy. Not that she's not nice and all, and I mean I love her to death, but she's a take-charge kind o' gal, if you know what I mean. Maybe if I just smile weakly at her she'll get the hint and go easy on me.

"You look like you need some rest, honey, so I'll just leave you and your sister alone for now. But when you're feeling better I want to hear all about what you've been up to." And with a sly wink she's gone. I look at Liv and roll my eyes just as she does the same and we both have to suppress a giggle so she doesn't hear us.

Out in the hall I hear Uncle Keith's muffled voice saying "Mind if I take that in to her?" and Mom replying "Oh, uh... all right, thanks." And the door opens and Uncle Keith comes in, looking... apologetic?

"Hi, Uncle Keith." I try to look and sound enthusiastic, instead of cringing which is what I instinctively feel like doing. I hope the quaver in my voice can be put down to still feeling shaky after having fainted.

"Hi, sweetheart. How you doing?" See, the reason I recognized Tim's quaint Kentucky drawl is I'd heard it before. From Uncle Keith.

"Feeling a little better now, thanks. I may not need that after all." I indicate the plastic trash bag he's brought for me. And the thing is, it's true; somehow just the way he called me 'sweetheart' made me feel a little better.

"Listen, I feel kind of bad about how you fainted just now." He sees my quizzical look. "Well, on account of I feel like maybe it was us coming up here today, so suddenly, without giving you a chance to get used to the idea, that pushed you over the edge."

"No, I mean--well, OK, yeah, I was kinda worried about how you'd all take it and stuff, but it wasn't your fault. I mean, there was a lot of stuff that went on yesterday, and... if it hadn't been for that it never woulda happened." There's no way we'll ever know for sure of course, but it could be true.

"Well, still, we should have waited a while, at least let you talk to each of us on the phone first so you'd know we were supporting you before showing up on your doorstep like this. I know we can be a lot to take under the best of circumstances." I have to smile a little at this 'cause I know as well as he does he's mostly talking about Aunt Kathy. "And it sounds like these aren't the best of circumstances. Had a rough day yesterday, did you?"

"Yeah."

"Feel like talking about it? I'm told I'm a good listener if you need a sympathetic ear."

"Thanks. Maybe later."

"I understand. The offer's open. Anything you do feel like talking about right now? Something to take your mind off things maybe?"

"Not really, thanks. Listen, I'm sorry 'bout all this, Uncle Keith. I don't know why I keep doing this. It's so... embarrassing."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, darlin'. I served with a fellow in the Navy who had a similar problem. Couldn't ask for a braver, harder-working sailor but sometimes his body just betrayed him and he'd go out like a light."

"Really?" He gives a sincere-looking nod. He's kind of a practical joker and has the best deadpan I've ever seen so sometimes it's hard to tell if he's pulling your leg but I can't imagine he'd do that at a time like this. "What'd he do if you were, like, under attack or something and it happened?"

He's laughs. "Well there weren't any wars going on at the time, at least not that we were involved in. But he did find a way to keep from passing out when he felt it coming on." My ears perk up. "Ship's doctor told him what was happening was, his blood pressure was dropping suddenly. No idea why, but without enough pressure to keep the blood flowing to his brain, well, he'd just lose consciousness. So he suggested that when he felt it coming on, he should sit down, bend over and put his head between his knees, and rub his temples to help keep the blood flowing until the feeling passed."

"Huh. ...Did it work?"

"Well, I did see him doing just that from time to time, but far as I know he never did faint on duty again. Or off duty, for that matter."

"Wow. I'll have to give that a try." I see a look of--gratification, I guess--come over his face. I try to put one of gratitude on mine.

"Now you just stay in here a while and rest up until you feel better. We'll leave you alone and try to find some way to manage without you until then."

"OK. Thanks."

"Take good care of her for us, Livy."

"I will." She smiles as he gently squeezes her shoulder.

"And you, feel better." Wow. I can't believe he just leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. He's never done anything like that before.

Not that I would have let him, of course.

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"I need to pee."

"You need help getting there?"

"No, I'm feeling a bit better now."

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Bleah. OK, except for the horrible taste in my mouth I really am feeling better now. Funny how you can feel worse than you've ever felt in your whole life while you're throwing up, then only a minute later you feel perfectly fine. Except for the aftertaste, like I said.

I wish Mom would buy Scope. This Listerine shtuff is nasty. Not quite as nasty as what I'm rinsing out though.

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"Hi, Dad. Where is everyone?"

"Hi, punkin. Feeling better now?" I nod. "Good. I think most of 'em are out back setting up for the barbecue."

"OK. Um, Dad?"

"Yes, sugar?"

"Um, Uncle Keith kinda... I don't wanna sound mean or anything, but he kinda, well, surprised me by being so nice and treating me like a girl, like I'd always been one, you know? Like it was no big deal. I don't know why but I kind of expected him to have a harder time with it."

"We talked a bit while you were recuperating." Always nice to find out people have been talking about you behind your back. "He said something kind of interesting. It seems he'd always felt there was something--off about you, was how he put it." I wonder whether to be hurt by this, but he never once let on he felt in any way uneasy with me so I guess that says something about him as a person. "He said it was nothing obvious and he could never quite put a finger on it--until we told them about you the other day. Then it all made sense to him; of course you were a girl. He couldn't believe he'd never figured it out before."

"Huh."

"Your mother and I don't quite know what to make of that, but--"

"Hey, whatever works. I'm not gonna complain."

"Well put. I was about to say the same thing, albeit a little less succinctly."

"In other words in a much more long-winded way?"

Hey, gotta get Dad to exercise those eye-roll muscles once in a while or they'll get flabby.

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"Hey guys." Shit. Why did they all have to turn to look at me at once?

"Fweet-whew!" Wolf whistle courtesy of Lisa. She's like a couple of months younger than Livy. "You look cute in that, Joey!" I'm blushing from scalp to toenails and squirming under the scrutiny I seem to be getting.

"Um, thanks."

"Yeah, yeah." Ken waves his hand dismissively. "You're still on my team when we play volleyball and stuff later, right?" He's eleven and couldn't care less about girls yet, but with Lori for a sister he doesn't have any stupid prejudices about their athletic abilities either.

"Well, yeah." We're always on the same team.

"Cool. Hey, aren't those shorts kinda tight in the mmfl?" Lisa clapped a hand over his mouth--in case the neighbors might hear, I guess.

Under her breath she tells him, "Remember what we talked about in the car?" When she sees his eyes get wide she removes her hand.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, forgot." Then, more quietly: "But I mean, aren't they?" Which gets a glare from Lisa.

"Not for a girl, Ken." She adds visual emphasis with a look.

"Yeah but-"

"Shush! No more of that."

"All right, all right. Sheesh! Can't a guy just ask a simple question around here?"

I feel kinda sorry for him. I mean, I'd have been pretty curious, too. Maybe for slightly different reasons, but still. "You can ask me whatever you want, later, OK? Inside, in private?"

"OK." It's clearly not really that big a deal to him; he's just curious, is all.

Lori and Liv were here with them when I walked up, but looking around I don't see where they went. Something tells me this is not a good omen.

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"Looks like some guests are arriving." Why's Mom looking at me like that? Like she's expecting me to do something? Now she's looking significantly over at Grandmother. What--

"Oh. Oh, yeah." The Dress. Time to go put it on.

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Now where's that bra we got? Right after Matt ditched us 'cause Mom mentioned lingerie shopping? Coward. All right, to be fair I'd have probably done the same. Before.

Ah. Here we go. Halter style bra for halter style dress. They think of everything.

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Let's see, where'd I put the bag with the makeup? Right, on top of the dresser.

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Trouble with having only one bathroom is, when you have this many people in the house, it's always occupied. Luckily I have a mirror in my bedroom.

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But nothing to sit on and nowhere to put the makeup.

Oh. Duh. What'm I thinking? I have a perfectly good floor. With nice comfy carpet and a mirror that goes almost all the way down.

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"Ow, that was my elbow!" And I now have a nice glossy cheek. Good thing I'm not doing my mascara just now.

Lisa's head peeks around the door that just banged my arm. "Oops! Sorry, Joey. You disappeared and we were worried about you." She sees the box of tissues on my dresser and grabs one for me. "Here."

"Thanks." I have to kind of scrub to get the Lip Smacker off my cheek, which leaves me with a big red spot. Well, hopefully it'll fade in a minute. "Grandmother bought me this dress for the barbecue and Mom wanted me to wear it once the guests started showing up, so I just came in here to change. ...Hey, as long as you're here can you help me get the eyeshadow right? My, um, friend"--I wish--"showed me how but I seem to be doing something wrong. I keep ending up looking like a little girl playing with Mommy's makeup." She laughs, but Lisa's the kind of person who never laughs at you, only with you so it's not, like, at my expense, you know?

"I probably haven't had much more practice at it than you have, but I'll sure try."

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After a good twenty minutes of trial-and-error, accompanied by a possibly unhealthy amount of giggling, we're now both sporting a reasonable facsimile of the makeup I came home with last week.

"Y'know, this happens every time. I put on a nice outfit and it makes the rest of me look kinda shabby. So I do my face and now my hair looks kinda lame. Before I'm done I'll wind up looking like I'm ready to go to the freakin' opera or something." As I'm saying this I start doing my hair up in a French braid. It gets a little easier every time. I notice Lisa's eyes getting big as I finish. "What?"

"That's so pretty. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Same friend who showed me the makeup." Don't wanna think about that right now or I'll start bawling. "Um, can you hand me that green ribbon over there? Better yet, can you make a bow on the end of my braid here? It's so hard to reach back there and do it myself. I can never get it to come out straight."

"Sure. ...There you go."

"Thanks. I kinda wish your hair was long enough so I could do yours for you. It'd be fun to match." She's got kind of a boyish cut. I mean like a little-boyish cut; I haven't had mine that short since I was eight.

"Yeah." She looks kind of envious for a second but then shrugs it off and smiles. That's Lisa for you; she can't seem to stay sad more than ten seconds in a row. "Oh well. It'd take me at least a year to grow it long enough and it's so easy to take care of this way."

"Yeah, I guess so." I don't want to make her feel bad about it again so I guess I won't go on about how much I like having long hair and all the things you can do with it and how it really isn't that big a deal to take care of it. Instead--"You know who you kinda remind me of?"

"Who?"

"Liza Minelli in Cabaret." I haven't actually seen it; just, you know, the commercials and stuff.

"Really?" She looks flattered, which was kind of the whole idea so I'm happy.

"Yeah. I mean, if you dyed your hair black"--she's a natural dishwater blonde, along with her brother and sister--"and wore that outfit she had on, you could be her double. Hey, that should be your Halloween costume this year!"

Now she looks mortified. "I don't think I could wear that in public."

"I guess not." She looks relieved that I'm not going to try to talk her into it. "But you'd certainly look the part if you did." As much as a not-quite-fifteen-year-old could, anyway; obviously she doesn't have quite those kinds of curves yet. Still a lot more than me, though....

"Thanks." Flattered, yet very uncomfortable. An interesting combination. "So do you know what you're gonna go as yet? For Halloween, I mean?"

Huh. "I haven't even thought about it yet."

"Yeah, me neither. I always leave it to the last minute and end up just throwing something together. I guess it's just not that important to me."

"Me too." My thoughts are off somewhere else, though--in a whole universe of infinite possibilities that have just opened up for me. For once I can be someone or something I really want to be for Halloween, and no one will laugh at me or think I'm weird. Unless that's the point of my costume, of course. "You know what, though? I think I'm gonna put more thought into it this year. I think for once I might be able to really get into it." I can't seem to control the smile that's spreading across my whole face--my whole body.

She's looking at me with that bemused expression I've been seeing so much of lately.

"What?" I try not to sound annoyed.

"Just, looking at you now, it's so obvious you were meant to be a girl all along. I don't get how you hid it so well before."

"Well, you know, when it's a matter of life and death you get pretty good at that."

"Oh-h-h." She looks all sympathetic and gives me a hug. "You poor thing. At least that's over now."

I feel my eyes starting to get a little misty. "OK, now cut it out or we're gonna hafta redo our makeup." That breaks the mood and we both start giggling again.

----------

Livy closed her door just as we walked past giggling, but not before I got a glimpse of the look of near-panic on her face and the one of angry disgust on Lori's. God, I hope that wasn't directed at me. But--why else would Liv be in a panic to close her door just then?

Suddenly I don't feel so giggly anymore. I guess Lisa saw too 'cause she's giving me this sympathetic and at the same time sort of apologetic look, as if she's somehow responsible for how Lori feels. I really don't want to deal with this kind of shit right now--or ever, when you get right down to it--but I figure it's better to get it over with; might as well have a real reason for being in a foul mood the rest of the day, you know? Instead of living with a lurking fear of the inevitable confrontation. I stop and look back at Livy's closed door.

"Uh..." Lisa sounds worried. "Oh, hey, I just remembered." Now she doesn't; that distracts me from my mission and I turn my attention back to her. What's she suddenly so happy about? "I brought something for you."

I'm torn between purpose and curiosity. I answer distractedly: "You did?" I glance back at the door; nothing's changed there so I turn back to Lisa. "What?"

"I left it in the car. C'mon, let's go get it."

"Um..." All right, curiosity wins. This time. But I'll be back to deal with this. "OK."

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"Anne of Green Gables?" Isn't that, like, a little-girl book?

"Yeah, it was my favorite. Still is, really. I first read it when I was eleven. That's how old Anne is at the start of the first book and I really identified with her, you know? It was like I was living the story, not just reading it."

"First book?"

"Yeah, there's a bunch more. Here." She digs under the seat and comes up with two more: Anne of Avonlea and Anne of the Island. "I only brought the first three 'cause I couldn't find the fourth one and there was no sense giving you the rest without that. My room's kind of a mess right now." She has a wistful look in her eyes as she somewhat reluctantly hands them to me. "It's kind of hard to part with them, I've gotten so much enjoyment out of them over the years. I really think you will too. I wasn't sure about that when I decided to bring 'em--that's why I didn't bring 'em right in," she looks a little guilty admitting this and I think part of her was hoping she'd change her mind and decide to keep them, "but now that I've seen you I'm sure." That thought seems to have made her happy again.

I flip the first book open and read the first couple of paragraphs. OK, the writing's pretty good; I can probably make it through this. Maybe the story will turn out to be interesting too. Well, it'd be rude not to read it after she went to all the trouble to bring it for me. "Um, OK. Thanks." When I look up at her she seems disappointed by my lukewarm reaction and I can see this means a lot to her. I don't get what's so special about these books but clearly they are to her. It's the thought that counts, right? I feel an overwhelming need to show her I appreciate it. With how on-the-edge I've been since yesterday it's not hard to let a little emotion into my voice; what's hard is keeping it from overflowing into tears. "I mean, um... I don't really know what to say. To part with your favorite books like this, it's just... wow. Thanks." Yeah, that's more like what she was hoping for. And that smile on her face is what I was hoping for. I clutch the books to my chest and smile back.

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"Burgers are ready; come and get it!"

"OK. Thanks, Dad." I start putting the books on my shelf just as he disappears back down the hall. I'm running out of room here; when I get Dragonquest I'm gonna need to start thinking about retiring some of these other ones. Perish the thought.

I guess Liv and Lori are already in the chow line 'cause they weren't in Liv's room anymore by the time we came back in.

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Yep, there they are, already sitting at the picnic table we borrowed from the Bruegemanns and stuffing their faces. I can't tell if Lori is pointedly ignoring me, or just so engrossed in her burger she hasn't noticed I'm here. I notice Grandmother smiling at me as we get our paper plates and join the small crowd at the grill so I smile back and give her a little wave.

Grandfather's not sitting with her 'cause he's in charge of cremating the meat today. Yeah, he seems to be looking everywhere but at me too, as he serves up bits of charred animal flesh to the people who got here before us. Finally it's our turn.

"And what can I get for you two lovely ladies?" It sounds a little forced but after what Dad told me I guess I should give him credit for trying.

"I'll have a hot dog." Lisa points at the last one on the grill.

"That seems to be the popular choice today; I'll have to throw some more on. And what about you, ...Leigh?"

"I'll have one of your famous char burgers, singed to perfection. Nobody does 'em quite like you, Grandfather." I smile big to let him know I'm sincere. Good thing too, 'cause I catch him briefly giving me a look that says he wasn't quite sure about that. He sees my smile and visibly relaxes, though not completely.

"Here you go. Condiments are on the table."

"'Kay, thanks!" Just thinking about biting into this slightly burnt yet still juicy patty slathered in ketchup and mayo on a buttered and toasted bun is making my mouth water; I don't know how he does it but these things are great. As we turn to join the others at the table I notice Lori looking at me and am somewhat relieved to see a look of dismissive annoyance on her face in place of what I saw there a few minutes ago. The seat across from her is empty so I make it a point to sit there. She gives me a look that says suit yourself. I'm not in the mood to take any kind of crap from anyone right now so instead of acting like nothing's going on I fix her with my best Clint Eastwood stare. She gets this weird look on her face and after a second just totally cracks up.

"What're you laughing at?"

"You!" I give her a look of suspicion. "I'm sorry, but that deadly squint of yours--it just doesn't work with blue eyeshadow and mascara." The way she says it feels kind of mean-spirited but other folks at the table are cracking up now too, and after a few seconds of feeling indignant I can't help it; I join them.

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"Because it's too close to the picnic table, that's why."

"Well, it wouldn't be if we moved it."

"There isn't anywhere else to put it without there being trees in the way."

"Huh? No, no--not the net, the table." Lori's rolling her eyes at me, like she's thinking I'm some kind of idiot or something. What the heck is her problem today, anyway?

"Jeez, no need to be snippy about it! Anyway there's still people sitting at it."

"So, we'll ask 'em if they mind if we move it. Come on. You do want to play, don't you?"

"Yeah..." Although I'm not sure how that's gonna work, dressed like this.

"All right, then. C'mon."

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"Here babe, let me get that for you." I recognize the voice of that boy from the theatre, the one who's playing Friedrich. Annoyed at being called babe by some guy whose name I don't even remember, I turn and give him kind of a sour look. He doesn't seem to notice. "Wouldn't want you to get your nice dress all dirty or break a nail or something. Besides it looks pretty heavy." It's not that he's being deliberately condescending or anything; in fact it's kind of the way he's just so offhanded about his sexist attitude that bugs me. And that sneer on Lori's face isn't helping my mood any.

Then again, now that I look at him he is kind of cute, and seems to think he's doing me a favor or something. I decide to just ignore it, because I see an opportunity to kind of fuck with Lori's mind. With a little effort I exchange my sour look for a grateful one and give him a sweet smile. "That's very considerate of you. Thank you." Lori looks like she thinks I've gone off the deep end. I just smile sweetly at her too as I get out of Friedrich's way, or whatever his name really is, and let the two of them struggle with the picnic table as I stand around looking all pretty and helpless.

"OK, ready? On three. One, two, three." It actually doesn't look all that heavy as he lifts one end and Lori gets the other. No, on second thought Lori looks like she's kind of struggling with her end. I might be a little stronger than her in the arms, but not by much so I'm starting to actually feel the gratitude I was faking a minute ago. "Where are we putting it?"

"Um, right over there, by that bush."

"OK." He turns to Lori. "Lemme know if you need to stop and set it down for a sec, OK?"

"Just go." She looks pissed off. I have to fight to keep the smirk off my face 'cause I don't want him to see.

----------

"Thanks for the help, Rob!" Turns out that's Friedrich's real name. Rob Green. I smile and wave at him as he heads for the grill to get a burger; he smiles back. He's actually pretty nice. When he's not being a male chauvinist pig, anyway.

When he's out of earshot Lori says, "I can not believe you did that." Her voice is filled with scorn, disdain, and maybe a little anger too.

"Did what?"

"You know what. I saw. You did it on purpose."

"Did what?" Yeah, I know what she's talking about but I want her to say it. And I don't know why she's mad about it; I mean, it's not like I'm the first girl to ever take advantage of a boy like that.

She gets a mocking tone and does an over-the-top impression of a girly-girl. "Oh, look at me, I'm just a helpless, weak little girl; I'll get the big, strong man to do it for me." She's got a great sense of humor and she's a born comedian so it kind of throws me that it comes off so mean and doesn't seem funny at all. "You're every bit as strong as me and you know it." She looks me over like she's looking at something distasteful. "So, is that why you're doing this? 'Cause you like boys but you don't wanna get beat up for being a fag?"

What? Where the fuck did that come from? "Whoa. All right, that does it. You're coming with me. Now." I grab her arm and start dragging her toward the back door. "We're gonna have this out. In private." She resists briefly but reluctantly lets me pull her along.

"All right. I'm coming. Leggo my arm." I relax my grip and she yanks her arm away and rubs it where I was holding it. I guess I was hurting her. Good.

----------

"Now." I close my door behind us. "Just what the fuck is your problem?"

"You are."

"Well, yeah, I kinda figured that out, but I mean, what'd I do that's got you so pissed off?"

She looks kind of upset and really uncomfortable now, instead of mad. "I--I dunno. I mean, I knew you were never gonna be a manly man, and I always kinda figured you might turn out to be queer"--I roll my eyes; this seems to be another topic where I need to have pamphlets ready to hand out--"but that's fine by me. Just, why can't you just be who you are and deal with it? Why'd you hafta start pretending you're a girl and acting all girly and shit?"

OK, now I know what's bugging her. If I only had a clue why.... "All right, first off, let's get this straight. I'm not queer, I'm a girl." She's giving me that yeah, yeah look I've seen before. "Look, if I was queer I'd have told you about it first, OK? 'Cause I think you're probably the one person I could have been sure would have been able to deal with it and not freak out on me." Now she's looking confused, and maybe hurt. "Not 'cause I think you're a lesbo, OK?" Yeah, that was what she was feeling hurt about. "I just know you've had to deal with the rude remarks and all that shit because you're such a jock and girls aren't supposed to be jocks. So I'd've figured you'd be able to handle the news. And by the way, I wouldn't care if you were a lesbo. I kinda wondered if I was one myself at first." Now she looks really confused. Sigh. Maybe I'll collect all my pamphlets together and make them into a book. I can see her eyes getting bigger and her brow furrowing deeper as her perplexity grows.

"How could you be..."

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"Wow. I guess I never really thought about what it would be like for you. I always just figured you had it easier 'cause you didn't have to worry about getting pounded to a pulp over it."

"Well, no, but--"

"Yeah, Livy explained to me about what girls do to hurt each other. I guess in some ways it's worse."

"Yeah." She looks relieved not to have to convince me, but it quickly turns to sadness. "It's just, I mean, Mom and Dad say they love me for who I am and all, but I still always get the feeling they'd be a lot happier if I was more girly, like Lisa. And, you know, like now they'll figure if you can do it then why can't I?"

"Oh." Now it all begins to make sense.

"I guess I shouldn't take it out on you, but... you're not making my life any easier, you know?"

"I didn't know. I'm sorry. I guess Grandmother's even worse, huh?"

"Yeah, but in a way it's easier with her 'cause she doesn't make any pretense about it. She thinks I'm missing out on a lot of the benefits of being a girl and keeps reminding me of that but she says it's my choice and as long as I know that and I'm happy with myself, she's happy." She looks at me kind of intently.

"What?"

"So have you been, like, dying to do this stuff your whole life? Like, wear dresses and makeup and stuff?"

"Um, not really. I mean, I always felt like a girl inside, you know? But I never felt like a particularly girly girl. Just like I was, you know, more or less the kind of person I was supposed to be, only with the wrong kind of body." I look at her and have a realization. "I always figured I was pretty much just like you. Or s'posed to be, anyway. Except maybe a little less athletic." Now I've got the stupid theme song from that old TV show running through my head--They're cousins, identical cousins....

"Yeah, that's kinda what I always thought. Except for the whole you being a girl part, I mean." We both smile at that. "I guess we were even more alike than I thought. But, so, what's with all this?" She waves her hand up and down in front of me. "'Cause, you know, it's just really not us." I laugh.

"I dunno, really. Part of it's 'cause I can now, I guess. And part of it's 'cause it seems to make Mom happy. ...I guess I see it as harmless fun since I haven't been pushed to do it against my will my whole life like you have."

"But...?" I look at her with a puzzled expression so she elaborates. "What's the main reason?"

"What...?"

"The way you said it, it just sounded like you were leaving something out or building up to something."

"Oh." What else is there? "...Oh, yeah. There is another reason. I guess I just didn't want to think about it."

"How come?"

"'Cause it hurts." She tilts her head to one side and looks at me kind of intently. "I have--I had this friend. From the play I'm doing with Dad. She thought I was too much of a tomboy and took it upon herself to introduce me to the joys of being girly."

"What happened?"

"Well, she was pretty persuasive, and it turned out she was right. About me enjoying some of this stuff, I mean. Plus she had this way of making me feel really good about myself and I just really liked hanging out with her. And I guess I started kind of looking up to her and wanting to be like her." My eyes are starting to get watery. God, I miss my friend.

"No, I mean... you said she was your friend. What happened?"

"Oh. She found out about me and freaked out." My voice has an undertone of the bitterness I feel over it. I try to hold on to that to help me not miss her so much but it doesn't really work. It just makes me sadder. Lori looks like she wants to ask me more but I don't feel like talking about it right now. Time to change the subject. "I have an idea for you, though. How to deal with your parents." That got her attention. "If they try to set me up as some kind of example for you to follow you could always give 'em what they asked for. Sort of. Not what they want, mind you--what they asked for." Now she looks really curious. A devilish grin creeps onto my face. "Tell 'em you're really a boy inside and you were inspired by my example to come forward about it."

"Ha! Yeah, that'd get 'em!"

OK, we're laughing together. I think we're going to be all right now.

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To Be Continued...