"What on earth," I said to myself as I was awoken to my PDA making a shrill noise. This was obviously an emergency noise to attract attention.

"What's going on?" asked Helen as she sat up in bed.

"Not sure," I said grabbing my PDA. "But I'll find out in a minute."

"What's going on Tracy? It's one in the morning."

"Richard has attempted to run away," said Tracy, her voice booming through the speaker. "Sam said you talked to him just before bed. While he is being retrieved, I'm trying to find out what made him run away."

"I didn't make him run away," I replied, trying to work out what I was going to say. Why didn't Richard listen to me? Maybe I should have told Sam to keep a closer watch on Richard. What a mess.

"Then what did you say to him?"

"I told him not to run away," I said quietly, waiting for the backlash from Tracy. None came. However, Helen hit me over the head with her pillow.

"Why didn't you tell me," hissed Helen. I put my finger to my lips to silence her.

"I take it that there were reasons why you didn't tell Rachel or me?"

"Yes," I replied simply, hoping Tracy wouldn't ask me to expand.

"Then the minimum you should have done was to tell Sam to keep a closer eye on the situation. The better move would have been to fully inform Sam, so Sam and Richard could discuss everything." There was a noise and she said, "Let me call you back."

"Tell me everything," demanded Helen. "You certainly avoided telling Tracy why Richard ran off."

"Please keep this to yourself," I pleaded. When she eventually nodded, I continued, "While you were getting a jumper I had a bit of a wander. I heard Richard talking to Wendy. Wendy told Richard to run away before Monday, which he promptly did. I warned Richard not to do it, but he didn't listen."

A minute later Tracy was back on the phone, "Richard has been retrieved and is on the way back to the school. He is safe and nothing bad has happened to him."

I breathed a sigh of relief, "What happens now?"

"Sam will meet him at the school entrance. We will just put it down to being new to the school and being frightened, so Richard won't be punished. However, Sam is now going to be upset that Richard ran away and I presume is going to stick a lot closer to ensuring that Richard doesn't try again. The school is responsible for Richard and that includes making sure he is safe. We can't do that if he's running around the countryside in the middle of the night."

"Hopefully there won't be a next time," I said feeling chastised. "However, if there is, I'll try harder."

"That's not what I'm saying," sighed Tracy. "You did what you thought was best. I'm just trying to show you other options that you might not have considered. Now go back to sleep."

Silence again engulfed the bedroom and I sat in bed staring at my PDA. How would I have felt if Richard had been hurt? What would Sam have done if I'd told him? Would that have driven a wedge between Richard and Wendy? So many consequences that I hadn't really thought about.

"Are you okay?" asked Helen, putting her comforting arms around me.

"I will be," I replied, very unsure of myself. "I should have told you earlier, I'm sorry."

"You were right though. I would have gone to Rachel and that would have caused a lot of trouble. Wendy is just doing what she thought was best for her brother. She knows Richard was close to his family and by staying will cause him upset like she has. However, I don't think she thought through the consequences of her brother running off."

"You were close to your family; very close. Do you wish you could run away from the school?"

"Sometimes," she confessed; her voice shaking as she tried not to think about her parents. "However, I have to balance that against what else we were told. I wish I could have both, but I know that isn't possible for some students and a sheer impossibility for students like us two."

I felt Helen's arm, which was still around me shake. For the first time since the telephone call, I looked at my rock; she was shaking like a flower in a winter storm. I gently took hold of her hand and led her from her bed to her settee. I sat her on my knee and gently rocked her in my arms. Eventually her tears and half-choked recriminations faded. Her emotions again in check, she wriggled off my lap and cuddled next to me. I wiggled my legs trying to revive their circulation.

* * *

"What now?" I asked myself, with as a beeping woke me up. No it wasn't the PDA, oh yes it was the alarm.

"Didn't you knock it off?" I moaned at Helen, as she stirred from her slumber.

"No," she replied surprised. "We'd agreed that we were going to try cycling today."

"I know, but I'd hoped that you'd changed your mind, after we got disturbed last night."

"Due to you not talking to me," she retorted. "Let's get it over with."

Cycling isn't something that I'd done for a few years. As I'd grown up, my parents couldn't afford to get me a larger bicycle, so since I was nine I relied on walking. It was therefore with trepidation that I set off on the gleaming new bike. For the first week there wasn't a fixed distance, so we chose a small circuit to get me back into the saddle.

When I got back, I was out of breath but didn't feel too bad. We went back to our rooms to shower and change. However, after breakfast I felt it. Relaxing during breakfast has caused my muscles to stiffen so I hobbled from the dining room. That will teach me not to cool down properly.

Richard had been at breakfast. Both Sam and Richard looked very tired and I presume they had been chatting till early in the morning. Wendy was also there and it looked like Yvonne was refusing to talk to her. As I hobbled out of the dining room, stuffed after a good hearty full-English breakfast, I managed to chat quietly with Richard and Sam.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said to Richard, ignoring the stare from Sam.

"Let's talk outside before lessons," he replied. Helen who had been watching joined Sam as we went outside.

"I should have listened to you," replied Richard. "However, I felt that I had to try and placate Wendy. Now I've tried to escape she won't ask again."

"You didn't want to go?" queried Helen.

"No," said Richard looking at Helen with amazement that she would even think that he would leave. "Would you want to leave this place? I'm not threatened daily. I don't have to watch my back and can concentrate on learning. I can eat my lunch without having to give my money to keep myself safe. Of course I don't want to leave. I took my PDA with me to make sure that the staff could track me. There has to be tracking points around the school or the PDA wouldn't be able to guide you to the correct destination."

"It was that bad?" queried Helen. "Why didn't the school do something?"

"According to the school, I was the source of the problem. If I was manlier, people wouldn't have bullied me. My form tutor just told me to ignore it and things would get better. It never did. I used to be okay at school until this last year, when things just got worse. My father was glad to see the back of me."

"Why?" asked a shocked Helen. "I was under the impression that you were a very close family."

"We were," replied Richard, being held by Sam. "My mother always supported me. My father did till about six months ago. That is when the bullying was at its peak and he was upset that I didn't do anything to protect myself. He tried to get me to play football, rugby and cricket, anything to get me to be more of a man. I tried, I really did but it never worked."

Richard was in floods of tears, being comforted by Sam. Helen and I just looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

"My Dad didn't abuse me," continued Richard when he had slightly recovered, "however he withdrew himself. He would speak with Mum and James, my older brother, but not me. To him, I was an outcast. He was so proud when William got accepted at this school. When I got accepted, he was just relieved. Dad thinks I'm a pansy."

I flinched when Richard said the word 'pansy'. "Does Wendy know this?"

"No, we always emailed saying how wonderful things were. However, over the last six months, the frequency of emails had diminished and so did their lengths. William was becoming less of a topic. At first my parents were expecting William to come home after finishing at this school. However, they were wondering recently if he would go straight to university. Wendy might just be starting year three, but she already has nine GCSE's and an A-Level; all top grades."

"David, can I ask one favour," said Sam, speaking for the first time. "Next time, tell me. Don't try to keep things to yourself. I wouldn't have snitched."

"Sorry. I've had this conversation with Helen already and won't be so silly again. At home, my parents were never interested in anything that was said, so I rarely told them anything. At school, I learnt very quickly to keep my mouth shut. I lost the ability to trust anyone years ago and I've got to learn that skill again."

Lessons that day went by as lessons in this school did, quickly. I thought about trying to track down a pair of ear plugs for the orchestra practice of the 1812 overture, but I was worried about not hearing the directions from Mrs Russell.

Having ruled out the earplugs, I did the next best thing. The only percussionist that I'd spoken to was Andrea so I approached her. "Hi, on Wednesday during the 1812 the cymbals were a bit loud in the ear. Do you think it would be possible to crash them a bit to one side?"

"I'll have a word with Andy," she replied with a smile. "He's the person to blame for the other day."

Feeling better I sat down to warm up my instrument. I looked around but there was no sign of Jill.

"Have you seen Jill?" I asked Kevin, the other horn player. I hoped Wednesday hadn't scared her off.

"Not today," he replied, "though she is sometimes a bit late on a Friday. I hear traffic on the A5 is murder on Fridays."

Just before the start of the rehearsal a rather breathless Jill came into the room. She flashed me a smile as she took her seat.

"On your music stands you should all have a piece of paper showing what music we will practice at which rehearsal. That should help you with your individual practices. Now get out the Tchaikovsky and see if we can get a more polished sound. No effects such as cannons till the main run through."

There was a lot of going over various sections, trying to get the feeling into the music. This was especially important in the slower, quieter areas. The playing is more exposed then and any flaws are more obvious.

Towards the end of the rehearsal I noticed a man talking with Mr Hobson at the side of the room. How I managed to keep an eye on him, the music and Mrs Russell I'm not sure. He looked like he was in his mid thirties and although he was dressed casually; he had an air of authority that even surpassed Mr Hobson's.

"Who's that with Mr Hobson?" I asked Kevin during the next pause in our playing.

"What? There's no one with Mr Hobson."

I looked again. The mystery man had disappeared.

Just before we started working through the next section Mr Hobson approached Mrs Russell and they had a quick discussion. He kept pointing to the front of the orchestra and there was obviously some discussion about seating arrangements.

"Okay," Mrs Russell said with a sigh, as Mr Hobson again retreated to the back of the hall. "Let's go for a full run through including all percussion."

I forgot about the mystery man as I again lost myself to the music. The feeling and passion emanating from the orchestra made my heart pound with excitement. I loved this school.

The crashing of the cymbals had moved further away so my ears weren't as tortured as last time. Then it happened. I'm sure it was a joke but I was so humiliated. Andy pounded the muffled, amplified bass drum and sent me flying. He had positioned the amplifier just behind me and turned up the volume. The sound gave Kevin and me the shock of our lives causing us both to jump out of our seats. Our reaction caused us to knock down our music stands which acted like a domino affect, flattening the stands of neighbouring players.

I don't know if it was my scream or the complete disarray of the brass section and percussion as they burst into fits of laughter, which caused Mrs Russell to terminate the rehearsal. At least she appeared to have a sense of humour as she was laughing as much as everyone else.

I just sat down in shock, wondering why the whole world was against me. As my heart began to slow, I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears. I felt so humiliated.

"Are you okay?" asked Kevin, his voice deep with concern.

I blinked my eyes to try and hide my watering eyes. I was a man and didn't want others to see my distress.

"I'm fine," I replied, forcing a weak smile.

"It was just Andy's idea of a joke," explained Kevin. "He didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," I forced out, with all the strength I could muster.

I tried to stand-up, to move away from the situation, but my legs didn't agree and I ended up sitting back on my chair. Other people were packing away their instruments, so hadn't noticed me. Kevin put his arm around me and tried to comfort me, which just made my eyes start to fill up again.

"I'm sorry," said a voice to my left. I looked up and through bleary eyes saw Andy, his every joyful face beaming down at me.

"You bastard," I swore, my heart again speeding up. I then did something I'd never done before; I slapped him in the face. The slap wasn't hard enough to cause damage, but the sound of my hand striking his cheek echoed round the room. There was silence. Everyone in the hall stopped their conversations and looked at me and Andy. I could feel their relentless stares hone in on me, which only increased my embarrassment.

I stood up and ran out of the hall, leaving the deathly silence behind. I don't know why I ran; I just needed to be away from everyone. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the courtyard that yesterday I'd heard Wendy and Richard talking in.

The small bench was situated against one of the walls and would catch the late summer sun. The scent of the flowers gave a calming affect and I was soon feeling less agitated. As I came down from my adrenaline induced high, my eyes started to fill. There was nobody to see, so I didn't hold back. I wept and didn't care.

As my tears dried I became aware that I wasn't alone; a pair of arms were tenderly embracing me. The arms weren't that of Kevin or any man. These arms were that of a girl. They weren't Helen's arms. There was no romance in the embrace; just a warm glow of knowing I wasn't alone.

I blinked a few times to clear my eyes as I didn't want the other person to see how upset I'd been. They obviously would have known but I didn't want to seem weaker by rubbing my eyes clear.

"Andrew can be such a plonker," said Stacy. "He didn't mean any harm."

I just sat there shocked. Stacy was the year five girl that did the welcome. She was the leader of the orchestra. Why would she talk with me?

I suddenly got a sudden flash of inspiration. "Are you Andy's partner?"

"Yep," she acknowledged, accompanied with a soppy grin. "I'd heard you were quick. Those boys surely don't mature as quickly as us girls."

Us girls? Does Stacy think I'm a girl? "I'm a boy. I was born a boy and haven't any plans to change that."

"I'm sorry," replied Stacy. "I went off the way you acted. I put two and two together and obviously got five."

"I'd better find Helen."

"Helen is waiting just outside the courtyard and as you know, she will be able to hear everything."

"You know about yesterday?"

"Of course, it's my job to know about these things. But this is a student issue and I won't involve any of the staff."

"I don't understand," I said bewildered.

"This goes back to the conversation that you and Helen had with Rachel on day one. It is about the potential job you might get when you've finished studying here."

"I take it that you're also studying for the same line of work?"

"Yes and so is Andy. That is why I'm concerned. You and Andy will be working closely together. I don't want his Tom Foolery to cause working issues."

"Andy really wasn't the issue," I replied after a few minutes thought. "I was more embarrassed about my reaction and what others might think of me."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, though I reserve the right to embarrass him back."

Stacy burst into a big grin and giggled. "I look forward to seeing that. I'll leave you with Helen, but don't stay out here too long; dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."

As I walked into the dinning room, I felt so much more myself. Helen had this way of knowing exactly how I felt and helping me overcome any stresses. Jill was sat at the table, just like two days ago.

"Hi Jill," I said as I sat next to her. "Glad to see you looking a bit better than yesterday."

"I feel a lot better. Talking of people feeling bad, how are you? I saw what happened and I bet Andy gave you the scare of your life."

"It wasn't far off," I agreed. "However, that is in the past. Andy was just playing a joke."

There were warm words of comfort from all the rest of the year one students. It was nice not to be alone.

"Jill, have you ever been here when we've run a "Mix-up day?" Becky asked as we ate.

"No," she replied. "I heard them mentioned but they were always scheduled when I wasn't around."

"Well there is one happening on Monday and I was wondering if you wished to participate? As a guest it isn't compulsory."

Becky explained the rules and we all sat there shuddering at the thought. Well all except Helen who looked excited at the prospect. I gave her a nudge and she tempered her eagerness.

"Let me make sure I've got this correct. I'd come to orchestra practice as Bill. Then just before supper, change and appear androgynous?"

"That's about the size of it," agreed Becky. "The clothes we put together are still in the guest room, so you shouldn't have a clothing problem."

Jill sat there for a moment and then with a grin said, "Count me in. It's nice that the school trusts me to participate in other events other than the orchestra."

"Well if you-"

"Jill, are you able to stay a bit?" I asked cutting off Becky's comment. Jill would only get upset again if the pressure was applied to strongly for her to join.

"If that's okay with you all?" she asked looking round the table.

Replies of "That'll be great" and "Yeah" spread round the table. We had one thing that no other years had. We had a friend our age that wasn't a student at the school. All nine of us spent the evening watching a film. Julia was happy for Jill to spend time with us. It meant she was able to socialise a little with some of the other staff.

In my room I sat with Helen on the settee, we'd cleaned our teeth and put on our nightwear. No lessons at the weekend meant that breakfast was an hour later. An hour extra in bed was certainly needed after the heavy pace of the previous days.

"Would you like to practice for Monday?" asked Helen hopefully. She looked at me with her eyes all shiny and expectant.

"Isn't it a bit late?" I responded, trying to put her off without saying no.

"I suppose," she responded rather despondently. With a hint of pain in her voice she eventually asked, "You do want me to help, don't you?"

I wanted to say a firm NO but I couldn't. Her eyes melted my heart and I knew if I refused she would be upset. "Of course," I lied, trying to sound convincing. "I've already told you I wanted you to help."

"Okay, no need to get upset. I just wanted to make sure. I only want to help you be the best you can be. You wouldn't want to be teased for not being passable, would you?"

"No," I reluctantly agreed. "However, I'm frightened about doing it. You know I was often teased at school. I just don't want that to occur here."

"Nobody will. All the other students will be cross-dressing so why would they pick on you?"

"I know I've got to do this for Monday," I said, caving in, "but I don't like it. Please don't go overboard."

"Don't forget that I'm in the same boat," Helen replied sympathetically, slipping. "I might wear trousers a lot but they aren't boy's versions. There is a big difference in wearing trousers and trying to act like a boy."

"That's something you didn't answer from the other day. Rachel has implied a few times about you wanting to be a boy. Do you?"

Helen sat there and looked at me like I was mad. "Of course I don't want to be a boy," she said indignantly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hoping that she was. "You certainly have a lot of characteristics of a male. You're very forceful, strong and like to take charge."

"That doesn't make me want to be a boy. It just means that I'm not as girly as other girls."

I grinned and decided to wind her up a bit. It wasn't often I had Helen on the defensive. "If you see us both as girls, then does that make you as lesbian?"

"What?"

"Are you a lesbian?"

Helen just sat there looking stunned. Eventually her lips moved but no sound came out. It rather reminded me of a goldfish that I once won at a fairground. Dad didn't approve of pets so the goldfish didn't last that long.

"I...I...I don't understand," eventually spluttered Helen.

Oh crap, should I backtrack or go forward. Forward I think. It's best to be bitten by a subject once rather than backtrack only to meet the same issue again. Perhaps if I take it step by step things won't seem as bad.

"Do you think of me as a girl?"

"Yes," Helen replied relaxing a bit.

"Do you fancy me?"

"Oh yes, I love you."

"Do you see yourself as a girl?"

"Of course, I just said that."

This was the point of no return. The last point I could back out of this conversation. Taking a deep breath and expecting the worst I said, "So you, as a girl, love me, who you see as a girl. Isn't that the description of a lesbian?"

Helen sat there unable to move. Her arm which had been round me went limp as she devoted all her thought onto a single question. "Was she a lesbian?"

I listened in the stunned silence. I expected to hear cogs whirring as she processed the multitude of thoughts. I heard nothing. I stole a glance expecting to see steam emanating from her ears as her brain overloaded with processing. I was disappointed to find no steam. Oh well, another phrase with no truth behind it.

As Helen continued to contemplate for what appeared to be for her a difficult question, my thoughts drifted onto questions about my gender. Helen was adamant that she saw me as a girl. It looked like the test I took a few months ago gave results that I thought like a girl, which Rachel confirmed. Then to top it all off Stacy, a few hours ago, implied that she thought of me as a girl. Am I that feminine? Is that why I had trouble interacting with people at school?

What if people are right? What if I am a girl inside? What am I to do? Should I just dress and live as a girl, like Jill does or should I follow Julia and actually have a sex-change? If people are right and I am really a girl inside, then I'm a lesbian. God, my parents will kill me.

Ah, but what if I'm right and they're all wrong. What if I'm just a strange boy? Should I try and resist? Should I refuse to dress in girls clothes on Monday? What would happen if I refused? Would I get sent home? No, I know too much for that to happen. Should I run away? No, I wouldn't know how to survive and what would I be running away from? Myself?

Oh my, this is very heavy stuff. No wonder we have our own psychiatrists.

"It depends on you," said Helen, finally coming out of her deep thoughts. "If you live as a man then nobody would think we were lesbians. If you live as a girl but don't have a sex-change then people would think we were lesbians, but we wouldn't be. However, if you have a sex-change then I suppose we would be."

I looked at Helen to see if she was serious. It appeared she was. "That is the worst answer I've ever heard. I'm not talking about how other people see our relationship; I'm asking how you feel about us; your soul to my soul."

"That can't be the right way to think about it," responded Helen sounding frantic. "It can't be. You have a penis between your legs, we can't be lesbians."

"It's okay," I said trying to scoop Helen into my arms. Damn, that's one heavy girl. I held her tightly in my arms till she started to calm down.

Perhaps I should have left it there, but I'd come this far so I just ploughed on. "That's not right. When it is us, clothes don't matter. Clothes are just there to make ourselves presentable to other people. Even our bodies don't matter; they're just a shell to house our souls. We are what we are inside. If you love me and I mean truly and passionately love me, then you love my soul."

Wow; where did that come from? The more I thought about it the more I realised it was true. I loved Helen for what she was about, what she thought and how she interacted with me. It was beyond what she wore or how she was constructed. If Rachel asked me again if I would fancy Helen if she wanted to be a boy then the answer would be a resounding yes. I love her soul not her body or clothes.

"But...but what about God?" asked Helen, tears flooding out of her eyes. "I'll be damned for all eternity. My parents will want nothing to do with me."

Her parents? Oh my, I'd better not remind her that we would never see them again. That would certainly put the nail in the coffin.

"I didn't go to church as often as you did. My parents didn't believe and thought I shouldn't attend. I only got chance to go if they were working on a Sunday morning. One thing I remember from the few times I attended is that God is a forgiving God. I also thought that the church frowned upon homosexual vicars but were accepting of homosexuals in the congregation."

"Really?" asked Helen, sniffing away her tears.

"Look, tomorrow, "I looked at my watch, "make that today, why don't we talk with Rachel. I'm sure that topic will have been raised before. Didn't Jill say that she was a regular church goer? I'm sure she will have also thought about these issues."

"Yes," Helen said, sounding chirpier. She thought for a second and with a slight smile asked, "Well if clothes and body don't matter, then why are you frightened of Monday?"

Just the mention of Monday made me shudder. At least the thought wasn't making me feel sick anymore.

"I have years of threats and teasing to contend with. What I know in my heart is sometimes difficult to accept by the brain. I know I'm safe at this school but it is still difficult for me to put the past behind me. So please be gentle with me as you help me prepare for Monday and don't expect me to dress in girls clothes again for a long time."