Double Dare 3 — Double or Quits by Maeryn Lamonte Monday morning changed a lot of things for Steven. Every boy in the school was jealous of the attention he had received from Portia and her friends, and none of them were standing by him. It was just as well then that more and more girls were becoming friendly with him, except that they were only interested in the girly side of him…

-oOo-
Following Monday’s interesting start to the day, the rest of the week has turned out to be pretty weird too.

For starters, I’m now on hate radar with pretty much every other guy in school, missile lock with most of the tough nuts who think they ought to be spending time with Portia and co instead of me. I’ve lost count of how many lockers I have ‘accidentally’ banged into, or the number of times when I’ve slipped or tripped over ‘something’ and gone sprawling down the corridor. ‘Something’ usually being a size ten or eleven trainer attached to a size brick outhouse body.

On the plus side, I am spending a lot of time with Portia, Amanda, Jennie and Debbie. Not just breaks and lunchtimes either, they now walk with me to and from school. There is a weirdness with that though. When I’m on my own, I skulk around in the shadows trying to keep out of people’s way, I’m silent and sullen, usually carrying my books with one hand. When I’m with the girls though, I get all animated and chatty, I smile, and I hug my books in front of me like they do. If they’ve noticed it they haven’t commented, but it's obvious to me.

Weird conversations as well, like talking about Friday — yes I’m still invited to the sleepover. There have been a couple of times this week that Amanda has snuck me into the disabled loos and given me lessons on how to do my makeup. I mean if I’m going to turn up at the party in a dress, I need to look finished don’t I? Then there’s the whole ‘what should I wear’ bit. I mean the pink dress and shoes and everything ok, but I’m not going to sleep in it am I? Jenny has this baby-doll nighty she wants me in, but I’m afraid if I put on anything too revealing, Portia’s parents might see something that could raise a lot of awkward questions.

In the end Debbie agreed to lend me a floaty chiffon nighty with enough layers that it would cover everything without seeming to and Jenny said she’d bring a fluffy pink dressing gown, like Portia's but with bunnies on it and a pair of pink step in slippers with a slight heel as well, all of it would be there waiting for me when I arrived.

It’s so strange. At the beginning of the week I was so aware of the girl inside me — Stephanie we’re calling her, but wow no big leap of logic necessary there — and I was so keen for her to come out into the light. Now that she has, it’s like Steven is withdrawing to the shadows. Before this all happened I didn’t have that many mates at school, but now I don’t have any. Not guys in any case. Everyone I used to hang out with is avoiding me — too afraid of having some new and questionable status rub of on them, I suppose — and everyone else hates me. As Steven I am afraid every minute I’m in school, waiting for the next ‘accident’ to come my way, which means I actively seek out the company of the girls. So far they seem to be cool with that, although there’s be no development on Monday morning’s moment of magnificence which tends to suggest they were doing it for Stephanie rather than Steven, since we’re both stuck in here.

They’ve even introduced me to more girls around the school, which means I’m now spending more time in female company and consequently incurring greater wrath from amongst the testosterone driven half of the population.

It’s not Steven who spends time with the girls either, but Stephanie. We don’t talk about football or cars or computer games like I used to with other lads, but makeup and fashion and gossip and even guys. I even commented on how good looking I thought Brad Pitt was the other day, completely without embarrassment too. I mean I look like a guy — apart from the eyebrows maybe — I dress like a guy, but I seriously doubt any of them see me as a guy anymore.

I’m not saying I don’t like it, but it’s frightening. I don’t want to turn into some sort of freak that nobody understands and everyone hates, but at the same time I can’t deny that I’ve actually been happier since Stephanie came out to play. I have to wonder though, whether letting the Steven side of me disappear complete into the shadows now isn’t piling up heaps of trouble for the future.

Then there was yesterday.

I walked with Portia and her friends to her house, Stephanie holding her own with the conversation and chipping in her (my?) own contributions for what we should do on Friday. We reached Portia’s house and the girls turned to say goodbye.

“So, all set for tomorrow night?” This was Portia. As hostess she was most concerned that things run smoothly.

“Oh yeah, Amanda’s been giving me some great tips with the makeup so I should look pretty presentable. I’m still worried that your parents will recognise the dress though.”

“Oh I’m sure they will, but that’s cool ‘cos I already told them you borrowed it.”

“So if I’m returning it tomorrow, what do I wear when I leave?”

“Oh, that’s covered,” Jenny put her hand on my wrist as she spoke. “I’ve packed a number of outfits so you get to choose. There’s this darling yellow sundress. I’ve barely worn it, but I think you’ll look fantastic in it.”

“I can’t wait.” I really couldn’t, I mean it. “Oh I don’t have any nail varnish. I don’t suppose I could borrow some of that stuff we used last week?”

“Got it right here.” Debbie was already rummaging in her bag, and in no time handed over the bottle.

“Well I guess this is it then. I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow, then — squee — in the evening too.”

Yes that really was a squee, complete with arm gestures, excited face and everything.

We hugged and air kissed then I turned to walk the extra half mile home. I wasn’t aware at the time, but the girls watched me go. By the time I reached the end of the road I was slouching, head down and miserable, Steven back in control.

-oOo-

Back home I slammed the door back into its hole. For a moment there seemed to be no-one home, then…

“Steven, can you come upstairs please?”

There was an odd tone to Mum’s voice and my heart turned to ice as I realised she’d called me from my room.

Mum almost never goes in my room and when she does it’s usually only a quick look round to make sure I’m keeping everything tidy. Kind of our unspoken agreement, as long as I keep the dirty washing off the floor and all my stuff put away when I’m not using it, she has no reason to invade my privacy. What are the chances she breaks the détente this week?

I climbed warily up the stairs and peered around the door. Sure enough, the dress was hanging on the wardrobe door. My heart sank even deeper into the bedrock of my soul.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me Steven?”

I let out a long sigh and sat down next to her.

“It started out as a dare…”

“…and so she and her friends turned out to be pretty cool and we’ve been hanging out pretty much every spare moment this week. They’ve invited me out again tomorrow night, as Stephanie.” It seemed best not to mention that it was a sleepover, not at this stage anyway.

“And how do you feel about this?”

How could I explain this? The Steve me never was any good at it.

“Mum, would you go back downstairs for a while. I need to show you something. It may take me some time, but I think it’ll help you to understand.”

She looked at me worried, but agreed. One last glance at the dress then she was gone.

I let out an explosive sigh and steeled myself to do this. It wasn’t going to be easy. It took me a little over an hour in the end, with showering and washing my hair in mums smellies, then trying to style my unruly mop into a passable feminine style and doing a half decent job of the makeup. The easy bit was getting into the dress. I stood in front of the mirror and decided it wasn’t a complete disaster. I definitely saw Stephanie peeking out towards the end.

I smoothed everything out and smiled at the girl in the mirror. I was terrified of where this might lead me, but it had to be done. Here goes nothing.

The low heels sounded loud on the hardwood stairs. A quick check told me that the lounge was empty. I stepped into the kitchen to find my mother looking fixedly out the window. It never occurred to me that she would be as afraid of this moment as me.

“Hello Mummy,” I said.

-oOo-

We talked for a long while, the Stephanie part of me and her (my) mummy (mum. Blitherage, this is confusing). I tried to demonstrate without forcing things how different my personality was when Stephanie was driving, like now, and I think she saw it. She did ask if I was schizophrenic at one stage which wasn’t helpful.

“No it’s always me. Just that sometimes I feel like a guy who is introverted, a misfit and has no friends and other times I feel outgoing and chatty and energetic and cheerful and… well… a girl. I put on a dress or I spend time with people who see the Stephanie in me, like my friends, and this is who I am. As soon as I leave them behind, the weight of the world lands on my shoulders and I’m back to being sad old Steven.”

“Are you saying your personality is defined by how people see you?”

“Not so much defined as influenced, but then that’s true of all of us isn’t it? Put yourself in the place of a beggar on the streets. Most people would sneer at you or ignore you. You’re not telling me that wouldn’t affect your sense of self-worth?”

“But this is different.”

“How so? Guys pick on me as Steven because I’m small and weedy and don’t fight back. That makes me feel lonely and rejected, makes me depressed, so everyone else stays away from me because I’m no fun and the circle is closed. No way out.

“The thing is it’s not just that. Part of what keeps me down as Steven is knowing there’s a part of me that needs to express itself as a girl. I can’t do the competitive thing that other guys do, not very well anyway, but there’s a part of my personality that loves the idea of chattering away like a girl. I get that interaction, I can do it and do it well, but because that’s the way girls behave and I’m a guy, convention tells me that I’m not allowed to do that, and that closes the circle even more.

“Last Friday I got a chance, through a freak accident of some idiot messing up a dare, of going out with a girl I really like and having to dress and act like a girl. It was like letting part of me out of a deep, dark dungeon where I’ve been locked all my life. A better part of me, a part that understands how to behave like a girl, that enjoys all there is about being a girl. And that’s me, the part I call Stephanie.”

“So are you telling me you want to be a girl?”

“I don’t know Mum. Right now the answer is yes, because I do it well and I’m accepted, at least by other girls, as a girl. It makes me feel like I fit in and it brings out the best in me so it makes me good company. Right now I want to sit here talking with you, I want to help you cook the tea, I want to do the dusting and cleaning, because sharing brings you closer together, even when it’s sharing a grotty job that needs doing. Tell me to go back to being Steve all the time and it’ll mean locking this part of me away and leaving what’s left of me half complete and unable to cope with my life. I’ll go back to my room, throw myself on the bed and mope about how impossible my life is.

“That’s not a threat, that’s just the way it is.”

Just then the door opened and my father came in. I jumped to my feet self-conscious and squirming, rooted to the spot by his disbelieving gaze, wilting under the shocked look on his face.

“Er, hello Daddy.”

Mum intervened.

“Go upstairs sweetheart, let me talk to your father alone.”

It didn’t take any more than that. I fled with tears streaming down my face.

I don’t know what she said, or how she swung it. I remember there being a few times when Dad’s voice went up a few decibels, but Mum always managed to say something that would calm things down and keep the conversation on track. They talked a long way into the night and I missed tea; not that I was particularly hungry. I was in bed and trying to sleep in the early hours when I heard their footsteps on the stairs. I heard my bedroom door open and felt more than anything the quiet presence of my father loom over me.

“No he’s asleep,” he said soto voce. “I suppose we’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow to talk to him.”

He was gone in the morning — he usually leaves before my alarm goes off — so I spent the entire day on tenterhooks.

“What’s with you today?” Portia being something close to her usual level of sensitive. She meant well though so the rest of us made allowances.

“My Mum found the dress yesterday. I introduced her to Stephanie which went okay I guess, then Dad walked in on us and they ended up having a long talk. It was late by the time they were done, but I heard my Dad saying that he was going to talk to me later today, so I’m kind of nervous about it.”

“Hey don’t sweat it girlfriend.” Jenny was always the upbeat one in our group. “Just show him how wonderful you really are underneath and he’ll get it just like we did.”

Cold comfort really, but it was good to know I had friends backing me if things did go pear shaped.

“It’s not going to affect whether or not you come tonight is it?” Amanda asked. “’Cos that would really bomb.”

I walked on eggshells the rest of the afternoon, my hypersensitivity rescuing me from at least two unpleasant traps set by various meat heads in my year. When the last bell went, the girls offered to walk me all the way to my house. I thanked them but refused. My dad wouldn’t be home for some time after I got home, so I walked the last half mile on my own and under a dark cloud as usual.

I slammed through the door in my usual who-give-a-whatever manner, thoroughly Steven and thoroughly depressed.

“Is that you Stephanie?”

Mum’s voice from upstairs again. What did she say?

“Can you come upstairs a minute please sweetie.”

Was she in my room again? I trudged up the stairs. At least there was nothing else for her to discover.

“I’ve been thinking. You’re father wants to speak with you when he comes home tonight and all things being considered I thought it would be best if he met Stephanie for real. That being said, I thought she’d be more at ease if she had something of her own to wear rather than an, admittedly beautiful, borrowed part dress. I saw this in a charity shop this morning, it wasn’t at all expensive and I it is perfect for you.”

It was pretty; light brown floral print with a short ruched skirt. I took it reverently out of Mum’s hands and held it in front of me before the mirror, my eyes suddenly glowing. There was a pair of tan sandals to go with it.

“You’d better get washed and dressed. Do a proper job like you did yesterday for me, although I think the hair probably only needs one rinse. You have about an hour as he said he’d be home around five.”

-oOo-

So there I was, with fifteen minutes to spare, looking and feeling like a million dollars in my new — well nearly — dress and shoes. I earned Mum’s nod of approval, though she did insist on adding a few pieces of jewelry.

“Gilding the lily I feel, but we do want to make a good impression don’t we.”

I nervously flustered around for ten minutes until Mum’s patience reached its limit.

“Oh will you go and make a cup of tea for us or something. I can’t stand you flitting around like an epileptic butterfly.”

So that’s what I was doing when I heard the door open.

“Hello sweetheart. Good day?” Mum said.

“Could have been better. Is er…”

“In the kitchen.”

The tea was still brewing and wouldn’t need pouring for another minute yet. I nervously stepped out into Dad’s view, arms straight, hands clasped behind me, pushing my false breasts out for best effect.

The wind went out of him and Mum had to help him to a chair.

“Well I never. I don’t know what to say.”

I walked over to him and crouched in front of him, knee’s together, every inch the young lady.

“How did you learn to act like that? I can’t believe you’re a boy.”

“I’m not sure I am Daddy. I think that’s just on the outside. This is who I am on the inside, at least a big part. As for the way I act, Steven is the act. This comes naturally.”

“This is what you want then? We need to be clear on this, you want to live as a girl?”

Were they actually going to offer me that option? My breath caught and it took a moment before I could answer.

“I think so. This past week since this all started happening, I feel I’m happier as a girl.”

“You need to be sure Steve, er Stephanie, whatever. You need to be sure because if you do this for all the world to see there are going to be repercussions and not many of them pleasant.

“Think about how the other lads will treat you when you start going to school in a skirt. Think about how your friends at church will respond. It’s not just a case of saying ‘I want to be a girl today’ and having the rest of the world say ‘Okay.’ You will face a lot of opposition.”

I took a breath, wow I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this. I mean this would be a time to walk away if I had any doubt. The thing is, scary as my Dad’s picture of the future was, I couldn’t imagine it being worse than what my life as Steven had become.

“I think I need to try Daddy. I feel so much more alive when I’m like this.”

He let out a long deep sigh. Resignation? Acceptance? Perhaps a bit of both.

“Yes I can actually see that. It was a bit of shock this evening, but I think your mother was right to let me meet this side of you. Alright then, it appears we have a daughter dear.”

I threw my arms around him and gave him a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek. He sat back bemused.

“There are going to have to be a few changes though, and you won’t like them all. You won’t be able to wander the street where and whenever you want any more to and I’ll expect you to help your mother more with the housework.”

“Oh the tea!” My hands were up in front of my mouth, my father shaking his head at yet another feminine gesture.

“It’s all right I’ve got it.” Mum headed for the kitchen.

“Right here’s the plan. Monday morning you have an appointment to see a specialist in this sort of thing, your mother will take you. He will assess you, and as long as you can convince him, then in the afternoon your mother will take you shopping for some new clothes and a new school uniform. We talk to the school the same afternoon and if all goes well, Stephanie goes to school on Tuesday. Is that soon enough for you?”

“What about tonight and this weekend?”

“You don’t ask much do you?” Dad was laughing, that was a good sign. “Tonight you can go to your party, but I want you back by eleven and no messing about young lady.”

“Erm, I should have said something earlier. It’s a sleepover.”

Silence descended.

“And Portia’s parents are happy with this arrangement?”

“Well yes, because they think I’m a girl.”

“Tell me this isn’t just my son trying to have a night of passion with four beautiful girls.”

“It’s nothing like that, honest. I doubt they’d let the Steven part of me get away with anything of that sort in any case. It’s just a way of spending some time with my friends. Daddy I won’t do anything that would make you ashamed, I promise.”

“I’m not sure how much of a good idea this is, but ok. This will almost certainly come back to bite you if your friend’s parents ever find out that you are or ever were a boy, but that’s your decision. Tomorrow you get back here by eleven o’clock because your mum and I want to take our daughter out for lunch. Sunday it will be our son who comes to church and there may be a lengthy and quite possibly uncomfortable chat with the pastor afterwards.”

“Yes Daddy, thank-you, you’re the best.”

“Well I guess you’ll want to go and get ready to go to your party. I need a drink, and probably something a little stronger than tea if you don’t mind dear.”