As I cooled down from my workout, I decided that it would have been a better idea to shower and change at the gym than to just go home as I was. I was dirty, and I smelled, and...you probably don't want the particulars.

While my mom drove, I began to fantasize about what I was going to do when I got home. My head was a bit itchy, so I figured it was time to go all out and wash my hair. As it was only a little after five o'clock that meant I should be done no later than seven, including travel time, wetting, washing, rinsing, conditioning, rinsing and drying.

Even before I realized I was a girl, I put conditioner in my hair. I just always figured it was the right thing to do with hair that long.

The thought of getting clean so consumed me that I didn't pay attention to the voices coming from the living room. I just stripped off my t-shirt and began to go up the stairs.

"Good, you're home. AJ, the case worker is here to..."

As my dad and the strange man walked into the entryway, I covered my chest with the shirt I'd just taken off and ran up the stairs. For some reason I felt a bit exposed, even if it was just a sports bra that they would have seen. It was my underclothing, and I didn't feel comfortable showing it off.

I might have screamed, I'm not sure.

All I know is that I was a mess, I was half dressed, and I was tired. Add to that the fact that I'd completely forgotten than the case worker was going to be here.

I rushed around my room, trying frantically to find something to wear. I didn't want to be under house arrest any more, and here I'd potentially screwed it up. The final check to verify my status and I was late to the meeting.

I put the shirt I'd been wearing back on as I tried to sort through my clothing to find something appropriate.

"AJ?"

"I can't find anything to wear, and I'm dirty, and I don't have my makeup on, and I'm dirty, and I didn't have the opportunity to really make my room presentable."

"AJ."

"I don't have the time, mom. I need to figure out–"

"AJ!"

"What!" I said even as I was turning around.

There in the doorway were my mom, dad, and the case worker. At least I had the decency to blush at that point. If my shirt had still been off then the blush would have been visible over my entire body.

Thank god for small favors.

"Well, I think I've seen enough."

"But, I have girls' clothing, and I don't have any boys' clothing. I'm trying to–"

"Anne-Jeanette, you are not in any way trying to deceive us in your clothing. That is all I'm here to check. I don't see any male clothing in your drawers, nor were you wearing any, that I could see, when you came in. This is good enough for me. As far as I'm concerned, you're good to proceed. I'll make my recommendation to the Judge and then it's up to him."

"Oh."

I waited until I heard the front door open before I slipped into my en suite to begin the process of cleaning myself. Well, cleaning my hair first.

Time disappeared as I went through the practiced motions of un-plaiting my hair and then getting myself and my fiery locks into the shower. Then the real process of wetting my hair completely and then washing it began.

It took time, but I enjoyed the process. It was something familiar to me; it was one thing in my life that hadn't changed, and I hoped that it wouldn't change for a long time to come.

I over-estimated the time it would take me to get my hair done. Apparently I was very motivated to finish it today.

Clean. I'd never before realized how much better I felt getting out of the shower than getting into it. I had my hair loosely coiled around an arm to keep it off the ground, and I carted it over to the bed.

"AJ, would you like me to help you with your hair?"

"Yes, mom, I'd love it."

"So, can I change your hairstyle this time?"

"As long as I can still get into and out of my clothing, I'd be fine with it."

My mom began the process of brushing out my hair, and I just luxuriated in the feel of it.

"Anne-Jeanette?"

"Hmm?"

"How would you feel about having a hairdresser?"

"A hairdresser?"

"I love styling your hair, you know that, but if we're going to do it in different styles, then I figure that we should get a professional."

"But, don't you only get professional makeup artists and hairdressers for famous people?"

"Hiring someone to do something that you can, and should, do yourself is a silly idea. That being said, I don't have the time to spend half an hour to an hour on your hair every day."

"I can just wear it in a braid."

"Yes, but don't you want to try different hair styles? Different looks? And when you go to a prom, don't you want something different to go with your dress."

"Mom, I really don't think I'm going to be going to any prom."

She got a smile on her face that seemed to say that I really didn't know the male mind if I thought that I wasn't going to be asked by more than one boy to the junior prom this year. I gave her a look that said I was just planning on saying no.

She brushed out my hair and just bound it in a number of places with ribbons. It started at the top of my head, and she had to gather the first few inches into a loop to keep it off the ground. It was similar in overall style to my braid, but it felt a lot more feminine to me.

"Mom, I'll think about having a hairdresser. I'm sure there's a lot we can do with my hair that would be pretty."

"And we might decide to cut a few inches so that you can leave it loose."

The thought of cutting my hair, even that little of it, gave me a physical pain in the stomach. "Can we not talk about it, mom? I just don't think I can do it."

"AJ, your braid would only be a little shorter."

"I know, mom, but it would be shorter. I really don't think I could handle that."

"Wouldn't it be nice to leave it loose occasionally?"

That could be nice–having my hair loose. It would be great not having to worry about making sure my braid was done, or that it was looped over my arm.

"Mom, if you and dad really think it would help hire the hairstylist, we'll let her decide. I just can’t."

"Well, good night, Anne-Jeanette. Pleasant dreams."

"Night, mom."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The next morning, I had a bombshell for my parents.

"I want to go in to school. I'm tired of sitting around the house. I want to get out and go to new places."

"Okay, we'll get you to school today, then."

Part of the orientation packet for the school was a map and locker information. My books were in my bag already, since I'd packed them before coming down, and I was ready to go to my first day in class.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The school wasn't as large as I imagined it would be, but it didn't have to be. There weren't many students, all things considered, and about a third of them seemed to be taking classes from home.

It was so strange for my first few classes to be physically going from class to class, and I missed the extra time I got during the day to talk to Jasmine or Kelly, but I was out of the house. I smiled at everyone around me, just happy to be here.

I think that my smile was infectious, because by the end of the day most people were smiling back.

"Hello, Mr. Smoot."

"Hello, AJ. Welcome to class today. Class, I have an announcement to make before we begin. The student council has finalized the plans for the first dance of the year. It will be held in three weeks, and all students are welcome to attend. Like all dances at the school it is a free choice event, so girls, don't be afraid to ask the boy out. And boys, be nice and say yes unless you have specific plans, Trevor."

"Hey, I only did that once two years ago, give me a break. I panicked."

There was general laughter at this, and then we got down to the business of Chemistry.

After class, things got a little more interesting.

I waved to Jasmine on the screen and then watched her log off. I began to gather my books when I sensed a presence in front of me. I looked up into the face of Trevor.

"Hey, AJ."

"Hey, Trevor."

"So, have you been asked to the dance yet?"

I thought to say something sarcastic, pointing out that we only found out about the dance at the beginning of class, and when would I have a chance to get asked yet. Well, for a moment or two I did.

"No, I haven't yet, Trevor."

"Yes, she has. Hey AJ, would you go to the–"

"Hey, I asked her first."

"Tough, I sealed the deal."

They began to argue a bit, and I stepped to the side, trying to avoid the conflict.

"Can you believe these guys?"

"Hi, Andrew. It's kind of crazy."

"Especially since they aren't even waiting for you to answer before going insane. Would you go to the dance with me instead?"

Um, am I the only girl in this school?

My shock must have been apparent on my face.

"You may not have noticed it, but the ratio of guys to girls is about two to one at this school."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I know. It sucks. Well, for the guys anyway. For the girls, you usually get your pick."

"So, why should I pick you?"

"Because I'm being more of a gentleman. That and my girlfriend will understand if I take you to this dance. She decided to ask one of the freshmen to the dance, and suggested I do the same. This is your first year here, so it's almost the same, right?"

"Andrew, I really appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure what tomorrow holds for me, right now, let alone three weeks from now. I've got a condition that might require emergency surgery at any time."

"Can't they correct it before it becomes an emergency?"

"Yes, but it would put me on my back for the recovery period, and I just agreed to help teach a self-defense class while the regular instructor is on her honeymoon."

"No offense, AJ, but you don't look big enough to be able to protect yourself, let alone teach someone else to protect themselves."

"None taken, Andrew. I can protect myself, though."

"Yeah, I just grab your hair, and I have control of the situation."

"Sure, it hurts if you hold me by the hair, but how hard can you hold if I kick you in the crotch?"

"But couldn't I just twist away–"

"Andrew, if you want to see what I'm teaching, come into class on Saturday morning at West Coast MMA. It's a more controlled environment, and they should have protective gear in your size. Things like this always work better with a demonstration."

"Saturday morning?"

"Yeah, bring your girlfriend. I feel that everyone should know how to defend themselves, and it might help her out in the future."

"I protect my girlfriend."

"And while you're here with me? Who protects her at times like these? I appreciate the sentiment, Andrew, but you just can't be there to protect her all the time."

"I'll consider it. I'll be there at the very least."

"See you tomorrow, then, Andrew."

I turned back to watch them arguing between themselves about who would get to ask me out.

"Guys, you should realize something about me."

"What's that, AJ?" Trevor asked.

"I'm a strong-willed person who can make up her own mind. If you'd both presented your positions to me, I might have picked one of the two of you. Because you fought over who had the right to me, I pick neither. See ya."

I walked out the door after that and went out to wait for my ride home.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
"AJ, how nice to see you again."

I laughed at Mr. Reiss. "You just saw me yesterday."

"True. And I wanted to talk to you about that. There was some concern with how you presented yourself that you might need more than a normal schedule of therapy. By that I mean once or twice a month, and at most once a week. I'd like to drop down to once a week, if that's all right with you."

"Sure, how does Monday work for you?"

Mr. Reiss chuckled at me.

"Actually, Friday is a better day. I like to keep this time we have right now open for emergencies with any of my clients. I just had a spot open on Friday at six pm, if you think that will work for you starting next week."

"That sounds fine to me, Mr. Reiss."

"Great. So, tell me about how Anne-Jeanette did at school today."

"Well, I actually went to school instead of staying on the Internet today…"

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I went right into the women's postage stamp and got stuck–I mean changed. I wondered if the men's locker room was any bigger.

Okay, let me be fair: the locker room had four or five lockers in it, and two shower stalls. It also had a couple of cubicles for changing off the main area. Yes, it was tiny, but not as small as I've been insinuating.

Felipe was busy talking to a father and son on the other side of the raised ring when I came out. He saw me and raised two fingers, which I assumed meant he wanted me to head into training room two.

From what I could tell by the numbers on the doors it looked like there were four training rooms in addition to the main gym area. The latter had a couple of weight bags and three or four speed bags. Most of the area was taken up by the regulation-sized ring.

I went into the indicated training room and began stretching out. I wasn't able to go into a full split, but it was close. I didn't really need to be flexible for my style. After I stretched for a couple of minutes, I began doing a couple of warm-up exercises.

"So, are you going to be my reward for a good session?"

"Hi, I'm AJ. What's your name?"

"I don't need to talk to you to get what I want out of you. Only reason you should open your mouth is if I want to put something in it."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused, just don't do it again."

This guy was a real prick.

Something I learned early on was that getting angry during a fight cost you speed and agility. You started thinking in a straight line, and your attacks reflected this.

So, I simply shut up and watched him warm-up, and then begin his katas. I wasn't familiar with the style, but I could tell that he'd practiced it a lot. His motions didn't have the inaccuracy of inexperience but rather the sloppiness of over familiarity paired with no real understanding of their application.

This guy would never be great, but he might end up being good.

I watched how he kicked, how he moved. I watched his speed and his footwork.

He never knew what hit him.

"So, you want to spar while we wait for Felipe?"

"A little thing like you?"

"Oh, but it might be so much fun to roll around a bit on the ground with you."

If you couldn't make your opponent angry, make him horny. Blood would be diverted to other parts of his body, and the surge of hormones would focus him on things other than self-preservation.

The slightly glazed look in his eyes told me that he had taken the bait. Good thing, as I didn't really want to have to go to my next ploy of taking off my top.

I made a wild jab at his head, which he easily dodged, and he went in for a grapple on my arm, which I blocked easily.

Then we were off. My wild strikes, versus his almost precise ones. I let him get me into a grapple a couple of times, to keep him interested in things other than the fight, and the feel of his manhood poking me in the ribs told me that it was working.

Then, I went on the offensive and it was over. He was staring up at me from the floor with a dazed look in his eyes. I'd feinted a blow to the chest, he'd blocked and gone for a round house kick.

I turned his block into a hold and kicked his foot out from under him.

"When I asked you your name, I actually was wondering what your name was. For the rest of this training session, you call me either Teacher or God, whichever one your religion allows. You do not look at my breasts or ass. You do not leer. Do I make myself clear?"

"God isn't a girl."

"And you're not a man. Everything in this training room is all topsy-turvy. Get used to it."

"Yes, Teacher," he growled at me.

"Your tone could use improvement, but that is something we can work with if I choose to continue with you after today."

I sneered down at him, "So, if you're done with your beauty sleep, would you mind getting up so we can begin some real training?"

"AJ, could I speak with you for a minute?"

I looked over to where Felipe was standing unnoticed in the corner, and my heart sank. Maybe I wasn't supposed to put this guy in his place. This was a business after all, and he was a customer. The guy had the same idea, and smirked at me as I turned away to learn my fate.