Author's Note: Here's something that I've been working on for the last few months, on and off. I've got a few chapters finished, but it's more of a serial than a story that will take a while to complete. Photo Credit: Amey M.

Episode One

Kelsey double checked my third suitcase to make sure there was no boy contraband squirreled away, and she didn’t look too happy about it.

“Kevin… Kayla, I swear, if you make Mom look bad I’ll make sure you wind up staying a girl permanently… the hard way.”

My sister worshiped the ground my mother walked on. “I promised, I even signed a contract. Get over it.”

She snorted in disgust. “Yeah, just like you promised to get a part time job every school break since you turned sixteen, and like you promised to help out with the gardening, and how you promised to wash my car when I take you and your slacker friends to the mall. We both know how well you kept those. Need I go on?”

We’d been over this, having the same conversation time and again for the previous four weeks, ever since I started making my transition from an average nobody guy into a college co-ed. My grades were good, better than most, but not quite good enough to attract an academic scholarship. I wasn’t into sports, the military, or volunteer efforts. My family was white, lower middle-class, and conservative. In other words it was the kiss of death. If I wanted to go to college then I needed financial aid.

That’s where my mother came in. She was very proud to call herself a mother and homemaker. She didn’t hold down a job, because her home and children were her job. However, she did have connections in one area and it took her calling in every favor she was ever owed in order to get me into the running for the scholarship that I eventually won.

The Society for the Promotion of Feminine Values was a group of mostly angry, rich old women from the sixties that didn’t like what they were seeing in society. Every year they chose an overly effeminate girly-girl to send to college to earn a ladylike degree, like dance, art, teaching and other traditionally feminine stereotype jobs.

Most of the time they chose people from our church, but anyone was eligible as long as they passed muster. There was one flaw in the rules for the scholarship; it didn’t state that there was a gender requirement.

I was the one that pointed that out to my mom. She was the one that pointed out all the other requirements including the standards I had to maintain in order to receive continued assistance. After looking them over, I remember laughing at the main rule. It was in legalese so I’ll decipher it for you. Whoever received the scholarship had to look like a feminine girl, promote feminine values, and remain that way for as long as she received assistance from the Society.

Knowing a number of girls that looked, dressed, and acted like boys, I thought it would be a cakewalk… and I was desperate. It’s the latter part that pushed me to do what needed to be done in order to win.

My family lived in a small city. The unemployment rate was pushing fifteen percent in the area. There were no jobs for kids fresh out of high school, and unless you had the money to move to another city, the only other option was the military. Joining the Army scared the crap out of me. I wasn’t mister muscles or anything, far from it actually.

Then I realized exactly what all that legalese boiled down to. Mom whipped out the semi-secret standards that the Society used to judge applicants. That was one of the favors she had pulled. That was also when I started to question how serious I was. The requirements weren’t just dressing in androgynous clothing and wearing your hair long.

I stepped back from the bed and pointed at myself. “Do I look like I’m not taking this promise seriously? I had electrolysis done on my face, Kelsey.”

That wasn’t the only thing either. Mom was well known in the community for her volunteer work. She called in favors from all over: donated clothes, bags, hair extensions, fake boobs, feminine services like makeovers, and nail extensions. You name it; if it had to do with making me the most girly person on the planet then Mom knew someone that knew someone that would help out.

My sister frowned at me once she gave me the once-over. I looked more like a girl than she did. Not that I was better looking or anything. She was wearing shorts, a cami, and tennis shoes. Her hair was in a messy bun and she barely had any makeup on. I was in a gray heather fold-over knit knee skirt with ruffle-front banded bottom blouse in a black and white leopard print. The Not Rated Tough Cookie 2 with the one inch platform and four inch heels were the difficult portion of the outfit. I didn’t like platforms; they made me feel off balance more than the heels themselves.

On top of all of this, my hair was coiffed in a relaxed curl off my shoulders and down to the middle of my back, my nails were perfectly manicured with half-inch tips, and my makeup was complete, not just thrown on so I would look less hideous. Dangly earrings, bangles, and decorative but simple rings all finished the useless girly person that stood before my sister. I was arm candy, meant to be looked at and admired. In other words, I wasn’t dressed for moving things from my home to school.

“No,” she finally admitted. “You look serious enough for now. I just don’t see how you plan to keep that look up and especially walk around, on campus, in shoes like those. You’ll have blisters in less than a day.”

I half-chuckled and then changed it to a giggle, because girls weren’t supposed to chuckle. “This is just for the trip up there. I have more appropriate clothes for campus wear. You can borrow some if you want. It wouldn’t hurt for you to look a little more feminine.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes, scoffing at me. “Please, save your Society spiel for someone that actually cares, Kayla.”

I shrugged. “I have to promote femininity every day. It’s part of the scholarship requirements.”

Flipping my suitcase closed, she zipped it up. “Well, promote it on someone else. I’m not interested. I’m an actual girl that doesn’t have to live by a strict male-dominated sense of style that went out in the eighties. You’re just a poseur who took a real girl’s chance at a college education.”

With that, she scowled and left my room in a huff. I had a very faint idea that Kelsey might be a tad bit bitter over having to put up with my mom’s directions concerning me. I was going to be rooming with her in an off campus apartment and Kelsey was supposed to make sure I was following all the rules.

I spent the remainder of my time making sure I had all of my incidentals. Mom went all out and traded in my old cell phone for one that was sparkly and red. I think that was supposed to be a joke. Dad loaded up the SUV and before I knew it Mom was tearing up in the driveway.

“You remembered everything? Your makeup, your extra breast forms, your tampons and liners?”

I started turning red from embarrassment. Even though I wouldn’t be using them, I had to have them for other girls that might have forgotten theirs. There were some pretty weird rules for girls to follow. One that I still wasn’t sure about was the extra pair of panties I was supposed to carry around in my purse. I mean, what’s up with that?

“I’ve got everything, Mom.”

“Come on,” Kelsey snapped from the passenger side of the SUV. “We’re going to be late.”

Mom frowned in her direction. “Mind your sister. She’s been through all of this and she can guide you properly.”

“I will.”

After leaning and kissing the side of my mouth, Mom smiled at me. “You look so pretty, Kayla. I’m very proud that you are taking all of this so seriously.”

“I am, Mom. I won’t let you down.”

~O~

Nothing I did on the ride up pleased Kelsey. She whined that I put too much perfume on and it was stinking up the car. She scoffed every time I called Dad, Daddy. She nearly had a hissy fit when we stopped for drinks and he held my door open for me. While my father wasn’t all gung-ho about how I was going about getting an education, he did his part when Mom asked him to treat me like a lady so that I’d blend in better at school. It was strange at first, not opening my own doors or carrying anything more than five pounds of… anything.

Kelsey would rant about how real girls didn’t act like me, or dress like me, or pretty much do anything like how I was told I was supposed to do things. I was an embarrassment to modern women, setting back women’s suffrage, blah, blah, blah. It all went in one of my twice pierced ears and out the other. The main issue was that I would do what it would take to get an education, even if it meant acting like someone I wasn’t.

When we finally reached the apartment I was more than happy to take my makeup case and find my room. Dad brought everything else in for me while I unpacked and started setting things up. If I couldn’t have the posters that normally adorned my walls as home — which consisted of scantily clad female singers, cheerleaders, and models — I went to my other passion which was writing. It was that which won me my scholarship after all.

Along with the application was an essay about how I looked at contemporary women. I wrote a compare and contrast between my sister and Elizabeth Bennet, the lead character of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. As an afterthought, perhaps that’s why Kelsey has been so upset with me. My conclusion was that a woman could be independent, strong, assertive, commanding, and be feminine at the same time, that today’s women had lost something along the way that was very important in defining their gender and keeping it noticeable separate from their opposites.

The old ladies at the Society ate it up. It wasn’t the application that won me the scholarship, it was the essay. Seeing as how I wanted to be a writer, a good feminine field of study — though I don’t see how considering the field was traditionally dominated through the centuries by men — they pushed my application straight through.

That’s why I had a very large poster of Pride and Prejudice, the Keira Knightley version — I am a guy underneath my skirt after all — adorning my wall.

From my room, I could hear a heated discussion in Kelsey’s room, over what, I only had to guess. She wasn’t going to make it easy for me.

I love my sister, but sometimes she can be a real bitch.

Dad came in and gave me a hug before he left which began my first day as a girl with no reminders of my male past, well if you don’t count my sister that is.

~O~

After I had my room sorted, I moved to the main room and kitchen, wiping down everything as Mom had taught me. Not only did I get to learn to act like a woman, I had to learn keeping a house as well. The refrigerator and cupboard were bare, but we had a minor food allowance for snacks, coffee, sodas -- all the important things for a student. Real meals were to be taken at one of many cafeterias across campus which was paid for as part of my scholarship.

While I was running the dishes though the washer, a knock came at the front door. Hastily, I set aside my apron and checked my hair at the mirror by the door. I didn’t look too disheveled.

When I opened the door I was met by a tall blond guy wearing a pair of running shorts and a loose tank, sweating profusely.

“Hey… uh… I don’t know you,” he said mildly out of breath.

“I’m Kayla. Are you looking for Kelsey?”

He grinned. His eyes ran down to my only exposed skin, my legs. “Uh, yeah; she in?”

I held up a finger. “Just a minute.”

Leaving the door ajar, I went to knock on Kelsey’s door.

“What!” she said from the other side.

“There’s a guy here to see you.”

I heard something fall from inside and the door swung open. “Move!”

Already in the process of stepping aside, Kelsey ran out and jumped on the random guy, not caring if he got her outfit wet from his perspiration. I was kind of grossed out. She straddled him and proceeded to vacuum his tongue out with her mouth. I just blinked at the scene and headed back to the kitchen.

“Hey hold on,” Kelsey said. She was still hanging on to the random guy pointing at me. “Brandon, that’s Kayla, my brother. Kayla, Brandon.”

My eyes widened at her announcement. I could already feel my cheeks starting to redden.

“What?” he chuckled. “You mean, sister?”

Kelsey shook her head. “Nope, he’s a freak. It was the only way the slacker could get into college, by dressing like some fifties chick and annoying the hell out of me.”

I didn’t say a word. Anything that was going to come out of my mouth was going to contain massive amounts of profanity, and I wasn’t allowed to cuss. The words I was allowed to use were so stupid that I refused to even do that. Instead, I went my room, closed and locked my door, and then I fumed as I paced back and forth.

My face was burning with embarrassment and I couldn’t let it out. I couldn’t scream or throw things. Instead, I sat down on the only chair in the room, at the desk.

“This was a stupid idea. Why did I think I could get away with this? By morning the whole college will know I’m a guy in drag, all thanks to my loving sister.”

After taking a deep breath, I let it out and tried to reorganize everything. I had two choices. I could give up and call Dad to come pick me up and return the scholarship money. Since it hadn’t been spent yet I was still golden. My second option was to make the bad situation all mine. Embracing my being out of the closet with a spotlight shined on me was terrifying. Everybody would think I was gay or transgender or whatever it is. I’d have to be pretty up front with everything.

The problem was I couldn’t date a girl. That was one of the big rules of the Society, no lesbian relationships. While technically it wouldn’t be two girls involved, it still amounted to the same thing. Honestly, I hadn’t planned on dating at all. I was going to college to study and pass all of my classes with the highest scores possible so as to make my job prospects in a big city viable. If I dated anyone it would have to be a guy, which just wasn’t going to happen.

That meant that if I talked about my sexuality in public I’d have to say that I was heterosexual and leave it at that. I couldn’t even specify that I liked girls, because I was supposed to be one.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door. What I really didn’t need was a laughing in my face moment brought to me by my sister.

I grabbed the knob and opened it fast, almost screaming, “What!” in Brandon’s face.

His demeanor was rigid and angry. My next thought was I hoped he wasn’t some gay basher.

“Kayla, right?” he said stiffly.

I nodded.

“Right… well, I’m sorry about that… what happened I mean. I already told Kelsey off.”

I blinked and gave my head a minute shake, trying in vain to clear the cobwebs. “What?”

He rolled his eyes upward. “My brother is gay, so I know a little bit about how to not open the closet door on someone that isn’t ready for it. I did it to my brother and within the week he had the crap kicked out of him. He spent three days in the hospital and two guys went to jail over it.”

The tension in my shoulders ebbed away and I suddenly felt bad for Brandon and his brother. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “He forgave me and anyway… look, I’m not going to tell anyone and I made Kelsey promise to keep her mouth shut until you were ready to do it yourself, okay?”

I nibbled the inside of my lip and just nodded in return. “Thanks.”

A smile returned to his face. “Just to let you know, you had me fooled.”

My face heated up again and I looked away.

“Anyway, we’re going to go get some pizza later, for dinner. You’re welcome to come along if you want. My treat.”

Pizza sounded great. “I don’t want to be a third wheel and I’m sure you and Kelsey want to catch up on… things.”

Brandon’s grin grew brighter. “I could call my roommate and we could make it a double date. I know he’s single.”

That made me almost cough. “Uh, thanks for the offer, but I’m not… I mean to say that, uh…”

I think he caught on because he had that dawned-on face. “Oh, you’re a lesbian. Sorry.”

I sighed, because I had to refute that claim. Odds are the Society would never hear about it, but if they did then I’d be up a creek. “No… I’m not. It’s hard to explain. I’m heterosexual.”

His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher what I was saying. “Sooo which do you date guys or girls?”

“Did, Kelsey explain my situation?”

He shook his head. “No, it was pretty much me being angry at what she did to you out there.”

“It’s a long story for another time, but I can date guys. I’m just not here to date. I want to concentrate on school, not social stuff.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you change your mind….” He let that trail off while I smiled back at him. “You’re going to have a hard time of it, by the way.”

Cocking my head at him I gave him my curious face.

“You’re hot. If you don’t have a boyfriend then all the other guys are going to be hitting on you. You really need a fraternity pin or a shiny rock on that ring finger to keep them away and you can only get those one way.”

Apparently my face had this amazing ability to go hot and cold then back to hot again in a split second. Thank god he left soon after.

~O~

Two days later I’m registered, Kelsey just flat out isn’t talking to me or acknowledging my existence whatsoever, my books are bought for my six classes, and I had a very relaxing manicure and pedicure all on the dime of the Society. After the first three, I was getting used to them and almost enjoyed setting the next appointment.

As a guy, I had relatively hard soles from running around barefoot a lot as a kid. After the third pedicure they were soft and virtually delicate looking. If they were a little less manly in appearance I think I’d pass with flying colors.

I spent the afternoon reading ahead for my core classes, trying to get a feel for the subjects I was taking. It wasn’t much different than high school, just more of it.

By the time the morning came I was bushy-tailed and ready to face my first day in class. I went with a kimono sleeve dress with a high vee-neck. Since I didn’t have actual breasts, there wasn’t anything to show off, so my wardrobe choices reflected that. My shoes were thick strapped wedge sandals with a two inch heel in a matching color. They were soft and comfortable. I knew this because they were my second favorite pair of shoes in the heeled variety. I knew I could walk almost all day in them and they wouldn’t kill my feet.

My toes and finger nails matched everything — I’d already planned what I was going to wear for the week in case you’re wondering. With medium sized silver hoops in the front of my earlobe and matching studs in the second tier, I was finished. Oh, I forgot my watch and one ring for each finger. A feminine girl must accessorize for her surroundings. In class it was advisable not to wear bangles or bracelets that bang against the desk.

My Logan backpack by American Living had three textbooks inside and a good sized spiral notebook. It was great because it could double as a purse. I wasn’t looking forward to toting everything around with me. It held my class things, my purse things, and it looked stylish. The Society would be so proud.

I tried not to make any noise as I closed and locked the front door behind me, not because I was trying to be polite, but because Kelsey had overslept and I wanted a little revenge for the incident with Brandon. I figured missing her first class would be a decent start. Apparently I could be a bitch too, who knew?

By the time I made it to English Composition I half the seats were already full, so I took one near the back, pulled out my spiral notebook and a pen.

The empty seat next to me didn’t take long to fill.

“Anyone sitting here?”

I looked up at a boy, someone who, as a nobody guy, would never deign to speak with me. Since I was a decently cute girl the rules had obviously changed for me. I just shook my head.

He made himself comfortable doing much the same as me.

“I’m Derrick.”

I looked up at him again. He was even taller in the seat than me. Most of my height was in my legs. It was a good start for girldom.

“Kayla.”

I crossed my legs and made sure my dress didn’t ride up. Since it was cut right at the knees, there was that danger. I never thought I would ever be so worried about showing a few inches of skin before, but at the moment it was a genuine concern.

“So, what’s your major?”

My lips parted in mild shock. I couldn’t believe I was being hit on in English class of all places.

“Um, English with a minor in Creative Writing.”

He gave me an opening to flirt back which I deftly chose to ignore. Instead, I looked over the syllabus that I’d picked up on the way in.

“I’m a CJ major. That’s criminal justice.”

I just gave him a brief smile back hoping he could take a hint.

“I’m striking out here, aren’t I?”

After licking my lips and tasting the gloss on them I looked at him once more. “It’s nothing against you. I’m sure you’re very manly and all, but I’m here for an education, not a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” he said without losing an ounce of his energy. “Okay.”

With that said he packed up his bag and moved three seats up next to a peroxide blonde who he immediately introduced himself to. That made me frown for a moment and brought a thought to my head.

Why didn’t he just want to sit there and learn, and maybe just be a friend?

“If I promise not to hit on you can I sit here?” a new male voice said.

Looking up, a guy more my speed stood beside the table. He was just an every-guy: brown hair, decent shape, average clothes, and a black JanSport backpack, though after that remark he sounded like he had a decent sense of humor.

“Be my guest.”

He grinned at me and sat his pack on the desk as pulled stuff out for class. “I’m Austin, English major, Creative Writing minor. Please don’t tell me your major or minor as that would be against the no flirting rule.”

I giggled genuinely. “I’m Kayla. Please to meet you.”

~O~

At first I thought Austin was following me to my College Mathematics class, but he pulled off two rooms before mine. I was almost down about that mainly because he didn’t annoy me and I really didn’t want to deal with other guys hitting on me like Derrick. Strangely enough, guess who was in my class again looking at me with confusion like he couldn’t figure out if he had already hit on me or not.

~O~

Lunch consisted of chicken fingers and something that supposed to be gravy but is more like gravy tasting water, and fries. My folder and Math book were out while I completed that day’s assignment before my second English class, Readings in Literature of The Western World, which I was condensing into Western Lit, it was a much less wieldy title.

“I promise I’m not stalking you; we just seem to wind up in the same places.”

At first I thought it might be the unsuccessful flirting guy Derrick, but it was Austin instead.

“Hey.” I giggled again. That was twice I hadn’t forgotten to make it feminine. The odd part was that it was a natural reaction. I didn’t even think about how his sense of humor brought it out of me.

“Expecting any company? Overly aggressive boyfriend, chatty girlfriends, anyone I need to keep an eye out for?”

After I rolled my eyes, I pointed to one of the chairs. “I think you’ll be safe for now.”

Austin set his tray to the side and started pulling out his books. I noticed one was Advanced Calculus which explained why he was two doors down from my Math class earlier. It was good to know he wasn’t really stalking me and everything was probably coincidence.

“Do you mind if I do my work. I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you or anything,” he said.

That just brought on a relieved smile from me. “I think we’ll work out just fine, Austin.”

He seemed very comfortable with me. I only mention it because as a normal average Joe, I was never comfortable around a pretty girl. Not that I’m saying that I’m egotistical about how I look as a girl. I guess I never explained that did I?

I didn’t automatically go from dull to supermodel looks with a little makeup. I went from dull to pretty. If you put me in a group of girls, I would just blend in. A little taller than most with hair a little longer than average, I didn’t stand out. My best feature was my legs. I lucked out and was able to acquire average breasts… well, below average if you believe that C-cups were the new median among girls. My waist was neatly tucked and my butt was okay, especially with the silicone hip enhancers added for effect.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is we both worked on our assignments with a minimal amount of small talk between subjects. It was comfortable and I had to admit, I enjoyed Austin’s company. It was nice to make a new friend.

At the end of our efforts he stood and shouldered his pack. “Where are you off to now?”

“Western Lit. You?”

His eyes narrow, playfully. “Readings in Literature of the Western World?”

I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“With Richardson?”

Apparently our schedules matched up and for some reason it made me happy.

~O~

By the time I’d made it back to the apartment, my feet were getting tired of being in heels all day. I kicked them off and rubbed some lotion into the soles giving myself a minor foot rub before changing out of my day wear into a comfortable shorts and t-shirt set. It was one of those shirts that had a neck far too big and wound up hanging off of one shoulder. I really liked the shirt. It was loose and not too warm on the hot August day. I skirted the edge of technical femininity that was laid out by the Society, but the shirt was pink and didn’t have any rude sayings on the front. In fact, it was a college logo that was the only decoration, thus acceptable.

One thing that was starting to bug me was the breast forms. I’d been wearing them for almost two weeks and my chest was itching; only I couldn’t scratch it. I’d go ahead and remove them for cleaning that night, a little earlier than the bottle of adhesive advised, but what the heck. I’d listen to my body before random bottle instructions. The problem was, I had to wait another few hours before I could do that. Since it was still daylight, there was a chance I’d go back out or something would come up where I’d have to leave.

So many rules to follow. This one fell under the category of never threaten your femininity if possible. Not having proper breasts might make people think I wasn’t a girl.

In the meantime, I had classes to study for.

When I went to retrieve a soda from the refrigerator, I heard the front door open and voices in the living room. Sticking my head around the corner, I spotted Brandon and Kelsey, vacuuming each others tongues again.

It was going to be a long frustrating four years without sex. Granted, having my equipment restrained under what amounts to a tight pair of panties doesn’t really do much for my libido. I still got erections like any other seventeen year old boy, meaning about once every twenty minutes. However they were restrained and somewhat uncomfortable when they happened. Everything just got tight. I’m quite sure if my penis could speak it would be down there saying WTF? Okay, if my penis could text message it would probably say that.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I moved from the kitchen to my room, only to be caught out.

“Kayla,” Brandon said. “Hey.”

Kelsey frowned at me. Like it was my fault she didn’t use her bedroom for their mid-afternoon sex meetings. Brandon was running his eyes up and down my body with a confused and hungry look on his face. I was hoping the hungry part was Kelsey induced.

“Hey,” I said. “Just getting a drink. Go right ahead doing whatever it was you were doing. I’ll close my door.”

I didn’t wait for a reply and kept going until I was safely behind an inch or two of cheap wood.

“That’s my brother, you know,” I heard Kelsey saying. “Quit checking him out.”

“I wasn’t… I was just thinking he passed really well. I don’t want to bone him or anything. My roommate needs a date for the pre-rush party and he’s crap with women…”

Their voices faded off and I assumed they finally went into Kelsey’s room. That’s all I needed, to be set up with a guy.

Trying to put it out of my mind, I sat down and finished off my studies for the day then I read ahead on the stories in my Western Lit reader. About an hour later the grunting, groaning, and moaning stopped. Apparently Brandon had great stamina and I was trying not to vomit from imagining my sister having sex which was blown because guess who came knocking at my door fifteen minutes later?

I eyed her messed up hair and that really satisfied look on her face.

“What?”

She pursed her lips for a moment. “I came to apologize for yesterday.”

I could smell a rat almost as well as the musky odor of sex emanating off of her.

“I’m not going out on a date with his roommate,” I said flatly.

Kelsey made a tch noise with her throat. “Why not? It’s Friday night. That gives you more than enough time to get ready.”

I shot her a look of warning. It didn’t take me three days to get ready for a date. I didn’t wear that much makeup.

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. I’m here to study, not to date guys.”

She wasn’t going to give up. “It’s two hours, three at the most and it’s not really even a date. There’ll be like thirty couples there too.”

“Couples, right. There’s the operative word. And even if I agree, which I’m not, you’ll expect more dates later. He’ll expect more dates later. Weren’t you the one that warned me to take this whole thing seriously and not to make Mom look bad? Won’t all of that go down the drain when his roommate wants to get up my skirt?”

“His roommate is gay and in the closet.”

I blinked. “Is Brandon a magnet for this kind of stuff?”

What were the odds that his brother would be gay, his roommate would be gay and the brother of his girlfriend dressed in girl’s clothes and wore fake boobs on her chest that made him itch like crazy? I really had to get Brandon out of the apartment so I could take the darn things off.

“I just found out about it myself. I couldn’t figure out why he was so interested in you of all people.”

Ignoring her verbal jab, I waved her off and went back to my seat. “Most gay people don’t like gender benders, Kelsey. I’d be asking for a really bad time.”

“He’s in the closet, hello. You’d be like his cover date so he’ll look normal.”

“The word you’re looking for is heterosexual. Being gay doesn’t equate to being abnormal.”

“Whatever. Look, do me this favor and I’ll owe you one.”

Kelsey never came to me for favors. It just wasn’t her style. Her asking me for something, especially this big was really out of the ordinary.

“What are you getting out of this?”

Her cheeks pinked for a moment. “It’s private.”

Silence stood between us for almost a full minute before I rolled my eyes. “Does this guy have a humpback or something weird?”

She frowned. “Just a minute.”

Two minutes later, she came in with her cell phone, punching buttons. “Here he is. That’s Austin.”

Kelsey said his name right when she flipped the phone around and there he was. My mouth dropped open.

“Cute, huh? Are you sure you don’t like boys?”

“This is the guy that’s crap with women?” I said with a large amount of disbelief.

“You’re not supposed to cuss, Kayla.”

My head snapped up. “Does he already know about me? Has he seen me?”

Kelsey looked bewildered. “Uh… no.”

I groaned and bent my head down. “This guy is in three of my classes. If this doesn’t go well then it’ll be really awkward. Heck, even if it does go well it’s going to be awkward.”

“So you’ll do it?”

~O~

The next morning at my Dance as Art class — it’s a study of dance, no actual dancing is involved and satisfies one of my core curriculum requirements — Austin was already seated in the back, next to a desk where a single book was sitting. I had a feeling that he was reserving the seat for me, because as soon as I was spotted he grabbed it and I watched as his face turned pink.

As soon as I sat down, he started in with what sounded like a practiced line.

“I didn’t know Brandon was trying to set me up with you, I promise. I didn’t even know who you were until yesterday.”

I eyed him. It was so obvious he was telling the truth. Something told me he had a hard time lying about anything, except probably his sexuality.

“What did he tell you about me?” I asked.

Austin shrugged his shoulders. “Um… that you agreed to be my date to the pre-rush party?”

He sounded uncertain, like he knew I was fishing for more and he knew he was giving me the wrong answer.

“How is it you’re taking freshman courses and you’re already in a fraternity?”

A person actually had to rush a house, be accepted as a pledge, and then finally be accepted as a member before they were part of a frat or a sorority for that matter. It’s a process that could take a few weeks or a couple of months depending on the branch. I’m speaking of social organizations, not academic. I have no idea what’s required to be in one of those.

Austin’s pencil became quite interesting as he couldn’t stop staring at it. “This is technically my second semester and I’m a legacy. I’m still a freshman.”

The legacy thing meant that his father or older brother had been in the same fraternity and he was a shoe-in.

“We can talk about it at lunch.”

He seemed to accept that and relaxed accordingly. We still had three hours or so until our classes were over. That gave me enough time to figure out how I was going to break it to him that I was a guy; logistically speaking of course. I can’t just come out and say anything that denies my femininity. Everything would have to be hypothetical, and I hate talking like that.

We found a private corner of the cafeteria and I filled him in as best as I could. He looked really confused afterward.

“So you’re a guy?” he said.

“I didn’t say that. I was just telling you a hypothetical story.”

“So, you’re not a guy?”

“I didn’t say that either. You do know what the word hypothetical means, right?”

He looked frustrated. “Why don’t we just go find somewhere private so you can tell me what’s going on?”

I smiled and marginally shook my head. “Good girls don’t meet boys in private places. We must keep up appearances. My reputation can’t be sullied.”

“But…” Austin facepalmed, dragging his hands slowly downward. “Are you saying that this Society could be watching us right now?”

With a minor shrug, I swirled a cold French fry in the remainder of my ketchup for something to keep my hands busy. “Probably not, but you should have seen the multiple warnings I received. If I break the rules and word gets back to them then I have to pay everything back. I can’t afford that.”

His eyes trailed over me. “I just can’t believe… I mean you look so convincing and I know some pretty convincing trannies.”

I cleared my throat in an annoyed way. “I’m not a tranny.”

“Sorry.” He saw that he’d hit a nerve. “That’s what they called themselves. Would you prefer crossdresser or another term?”

Dropping my fry on the plate, I reached for my pack. “How about Kayla? I’m a person, not a label, Austin.”

He held out his hand, covering mine on my pack. “I’m sorry. God, you even… nevermind. Look, I’m attracted to more feminine looking guys, but I mean, you’re might as well be a real… a genetic girl.”

I nearly laughed. “I’m not looking to date you, okay? I’m doing a favor for my sister who’s doing one for Brandon. I’m hetero so my dating aspects for the future are rather limited. I thought this might be a decent way to blow off a little steam, to go out with a friend. There’s no romance involved for me here.”

“Oh… you mean you can’t even date girls?”

With a snort I pulled my hand back and set it on my lap. “Especially not girls. Lesbians are a nono.”

“I don’t get that. The only people you can date are guys, but that would imply that you… that this hypothetical person would be forced into a gay relationship.”

“It’s not the spirit of the rules that I’m upholding, it’s the written rules. There are specific things I can do while dating a man only. Other than that, it’s me and my hand.”

He stared at me for a second before finally getting what I was saying. “Oh… I just got a very weird visual.”

This time I did stand up when I grabbed my pack. “I just thought you should know what Brandon’s getting you into. Think about it before you ask me out… if you ask me out.”

~O~

Why did I go through all of that if I didn’t really want to go on a date with a guy in the first place? Part of it was because of the favor for Kelsey. While she wasn’t acting like a loving sister at the moment, she wasn’t always this way. I knew something was behind all of the aggression she had been showing, and until I found out what it was I wasn’t going to give up on her.

Another part was that I thought he deserved to know exactly what he was getting himself into. From what I’ve witnessed, anger is mostly directed onto me from people that are fooled. Men really hate to be fooled, especially by other men dressing up and going out on a date with them. Telling him afterward would be bad. This way everything was aboveboard.

By three o’clock I’d finished my assignments and took a break to tend to maintenance grooming. Being a picture perfect feminine girl took a lot of effort. The plucking, tweezing, filing, rubbing, and a dozen other ‘ings along the way took a measured amount of time and if I didn’t do a little every day then it started to back up and become unmanageable.

That day’s ‘ing was plucking. It wasn’t errant eyebrow hairs I was looking for; it was on every other place on my body that I could reach. Luckily I didn’t possess any back hair.

During the middle of the procedure, my cell rang. The Caller ID only showed the number which wasn’t familiar.

“Hello?”

“Kayla, hey, it’s Austin.”

The nerves in my hands jumped and I dropped my tweezers. I couldn’t believe he actually called me. I was sure by the end of lunch he would stay as far away as decorum would allow.

“Oh… hi, Austin.”

He didn’t waste any time getting straight to the point.

“Look, um, I thought you might want to avoid the cafeteria tonight and maybe catch a pizza. We could talk some more and get a feel about what a real date would be like.”

A pre-date date? Were there such things? If there were, why would I actually want to go on one with another guy?

“Uhh…”

“My treat, of course. We could treat it as a real date and that way if things are too uncomfortable we won’t go through with the party on Friday. That way there’s less people involved and we can… um…”

I almost giggled at his nervousness, but held myself back. “Pizza would be fine, Austin. What time would you like to pick me up?”

“We could leave now if you want?”

I licked my lips. Leave on a date with no preparation whatsoever? Yeah, like that would work.

“I’ll need about an hour and a half to get ready,” I said. “Remember my restrictions?”

A nervous chuckle came back. “Sorry, right. Let’s make it five-thirty and an even two hours. That way you won’t be pressed for time.”

“Five-thirty would be fine. I’ll see you then.”

After I hung up, I had the weirdest sensation of amusement and control. Was that what it was like accepting a date from a girl’s perspective? I remember well the first time I asked a girl out on a date when I was simply Kevin. There was a lot of hand-wringing involved and a nervous feel of rejection on the horizon, but as a girl it was all very amusing listening to a guy trying to be in control. Not in a funny-ha-ha way, but in a that’s cute and endearing way. And by cute, I meant the situation, not the guy. I don’t think guys are cute.

My masculinity was secure enough not only to shave my legs and pluck my eyebrows, but to recognize a good looking guy when I see one without feeling threatened that I was going native.

The extra thirty minutes was a godsend since I had to find something to wear that wasn’t over the top, since it was just a pizza date. There was one rule that I didn’t quite understand. I mean it made a little sense I suppose. Never look less than your best, and it’s always best to be over dressed than under-dressed.

That’s why I chose a violet colored rouched three-quarter sleeved dress. It had a draped neckline and was very clingy, so it showed off my manufactured curves rather well. With that I added a pair of three inch caged-heeled sandals. The rest was accessories, hair work, and nighttime makeup, which I was still iffy about. I very rarely went out at night, so I didn’t have as much experience with eye shadow as I would have liked. After the second failed attempt, I saw it was already five o’clock and I was running out of time.

“Kelsey?”

For once, my sister was sitting at her desk, in her room, doing homework, with the door open. She looked up and her eyes widened a bit.

“Can you help me with my eye shadow? I keep looking like a hooker.”

Her lips parted in shock. “Are you… are you going on a date?”

My neck became suddenly stiff. “Austin wanted to try a pre-date date… thing.”

Her mouth closed again and then opened as she looked me over. “You look good, but those shoes… they’re too last year. Wear the black leather heels instead.”

I cringed. “Those are four inch heels. They hurt my feet.”

Kelsey stood and shooed me out the door. “It’s the price we pay for looking good and they’ll make your butt look better.”

She worked me over without saying a word until the end. As I touched up my lipstick sealant I got the feeling she was acting a little sheepish.

“Thanks for doing this, Kayla.”

I capped off the applicator. “Just a long as this doesn’t turn into a regular thing I’m fine. I really am serious about school.”

Kelsey nodded. “I know. It’s just…”

But she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it. Wait for two minutes and then come out,” she said. “You’ve got everything you need in your purse?”

“Yeah.”

She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Good luck tonight, sis.”

Luck? It wasn’t like I was trying to get lucky or anything. Instead of eagerness, I went with conciliatory. “Thanks.”

While I waited, I double-checked my purse. “ID, cash, emergency credit card, panties, touchup makeup, tampon and liner, check.”

I made one last unladylike adjustment and smoothed my dress out before exiting the bedroom. Austin was standing by the door and Kelsey had a serious look on her face that gave way to a forced smile when she heard me. He was wearing a pair of nice jeans and a neat black buttondown.

With the four inch heels, I was exactly his height. If I could only get the stupid things to quit pinching my toes, life would be pretty good.

“Kayla, you look nice.”

Nice? I looked great! Kelsey did an excellent job on my makeup. I busted my butt for two hours to look this good and all I got was, nice? The confused look on his face from before was still there.

When I didn’t say anything in response he gestured to the door. “Were you ready to go?”

“Sure, Austin.”

I shouldered my purse and he held the door open for me. By the time we reached the restaurant, I was still mildly angry for his less than enthusiastic response to all the hard work it took to look more than pretty for our date. Why I was perturbed was a question that was lingering in my head. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress him or anything. I was looking good for myself and for the requirements put forth from the Society. Austin’s approval wasn’t necessary and frankly definitely not wanted.

Turning him on wasn’t on the menu for the evening. Besides, he was gay and I wasn’t. So what the heck was I so upset for?

We were sat and ordered drinks before Austin tried to initiate some conversation. It was small talk and I really hated small talk. It was just fake, so I stopped him.

“Austin, look.” I peered around to make sure we weren’t within eavesdropping range of anyone. “Can we just be friends and not treat this like a date?”

He smiled and sighed. “I’ve been really uncomfortable.”

“I know; me too,” I said.

“I’m just…” He couldn’t say what it was, but I took a guess.

“Not into girls? And I look too much like one?”

“Yeah.”

That let me relax a little. “Good. Because, no matter how this may look, I’m not into guys. You’re good looking and all, for a guy, but I just don’t swing that way.”

“Lipstick lesbian?”

I smirked. “I wish it was that easy. I wouldn’t mind just having the real equipment for the next four years so I could have a real life instead of all this pretending.”

When our drinks came, I crossed my legs and tried to relax.

“Objectively,” he said, “from one gay friend to a friend who is a girl, you look freaking fantastic.

Warmth spread over my chest and flushed up my face. That was what I wanted to hear back at the apartment; appreciation for my efforts. “Thank you. You look very handsome tonight as well… from a friend who’s a girl to her gay friend.”

The conversation was easy from there on out. Normal topics came back into the mix and it was like the first day of school all over again. We clicked once more.

“How did you get into this anyway?” he asked. “I know the middle part, but what made you say, yeah, I could live like a girl for four years, no problem.”

I giggled at his imitation. “It wasn’t like that.”

The waitress brought our pizza at that moment and I slid a slice onto my plate and began cutting it with a fork and knife. I know it’s sacrilege to eat it that way, but girls have to be very careful of their clothes. Splattering pizza sauce on a cheap t-shirt is one thing, on a nice dress, it’s cause for alarm. Those things are expensive and I didn’t have the money to replace it if it was damaged or stained.

“Admittedly, I was a slacker. I had decent grades, but no options for my future. After going through the stacks of scholarship applications I came across the one by the Society. That got set to the side, because I wasn’t a girl. Mom looked it over and got a weird look on her face. Then she started talking to me about it.”

“I can’t imagine that conversation,” Austin said.

I shrugged. “It was surreal, but I was willing to try almost anything and she knew it. That afternoon, I shaved my legs for the first time and Mom brought out all the war paint and an old wig. It wasn’t perfect, but I could see it wouldn’t take much effort to make me look good.”

“You have nice legs.”

“Thank you. It’s the one thing I don’t really have to try masking. They’re all natural. Mom’s genetics coming through more than Dad’s I guess.”

As an afterthought I rubbed them together, quite enjoying the smooth feeling.

“You seem really comfortable,” he said.

“I am.” Taking another slice of pizza, I started cutting it up which Austin worked on his fifth slice. “I would have never thought I would enjoy doing this, but it’s become almost second nature and it’s only taken almost three months of doing it every day.”

“So you like being a girl?”

That question made me think for a moment. “Yeah. Well, there are drawbacks. Maybe if I could just be a regular college girl and not have to worry about the Society then I could relax more. But I like a lot of aspects of it.”

“Like what?”

My face reddened a little at all the revelations. “I like the maintenance aspect. I’ve never paid too much attention to my body, now I do and I want to improve certain things. I like to shave my legs and other areas. They feel really good afterward. I never really realized how much I dislike body hair until I didn’t have any.”

“I like my guys smooth too.”

I blinked at the thought. Even though I knew intellectually that he was gay, I couldn’t picture him with a guy.

“Have you thought about staying this way, even after college?” he asked.

With a shake of my head I said, “No… well, I’ve given it a thought in like a fantasy hypothetical way. I mean what it would be like to actually have real breasts instead of the prosthetics and all, but no, not for real.”

~O~

When he dropped me off early in the evening, I hoped he didn’t expect a goodnight kiss or anything and I wasn’t disappointed. Austin didn’t longingly look at my lips or act weird and nervous. He just pulled up to my apartment and killed the motor.

“So, um, do you still want to do this thing on Friday?” he asked.

“The party? If you want. I had a good time tonight.”

“Me too.”

An uncomfortable silence lasted for about ten seconds. “Everyone there will be couples, except for a few stags. It would mean holding hands and being a little familiar with each other.”

I hadn’t thought about that. “Oh.”

The idea of hold another guy’s hand was odd, but as long as he realized that it wasn’t anything more than that I thought I could get through the night. “I can deal with it. Just no being pushed into a closet for seven minutes in heaven or anything.”

Austin laughed out loud at that. “We’re in college. I think that was junior high stuff.”

I nodded. “Then we should be fine. I can act the part of your girlfriend for the evening.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because his eyebrows rose a little in response. “Good point… here.”

I watched as he undid the clasp of his fraternity pin from his shirt pocket and leaned over to secure it to the fold of my draped collar.

“There, it’s official. You’re my girlfriend.”

Perhaps it was the mood or the act of officially being pinned, but I felt decidedly feminine at that moment. I reached up with my manicured nails and delicate fingers to brush the pin for a moment.

“I’ll take good care it.”

Austin smiled. “I’d appreciate that.”

He drew back to his seat and started the car.

When I got inside, Kelsey was sitting on the couch watching some reality garbage on TV.

“How was your… oh my god, you’re pinned.”

She got to her feet and I watched as she worked her mouth without any sound until it finally kicked in. “Are you really his girlfriend?”

My brows knitted at the question. “I thought this was what all of you wanted. A fake girlfriend so he could hide being gay easier.”

Kelsey covered her mouth and gave a slight giggle. “We wanted you to go on one date with him, Kayla.” After a moment’s pause she delved in with another personal question. “Do you like him?”

“What, of course I like him or I wouldn’t be… that’s not what you meant is it?”

She shook her head with a smile. “Do you like him like him?”

I gave her a tired look to tell her I wasn’t playing her games. “I’m not gay, Kelsey.”

“And you’re not a boy, Kayla. Not at the moment anyway. So, did you get a romantic kiss goodnight?”

I ignored her and went to my room. I was getting sick of my bipolar sister.

~O~

The next morning I chose a smocked cross-front jersey dress in red and some open-toe espadrilles. It was amazing how much I enjoyed not wearing socks during the summer and still look good. And wearing dresses is so much more comfortable than jeans. Even shorts wound up being hot for me as a boy, but dresses are almost like wearing clothes with a built in air conditioner.

Austin’s pin went prominently above my left breast, almost to my shoulder. If I was going to be someone’s fake girlfriend, I was going to milk it for all it was worth. For as long as I had that pin, I was unavailable for flirtation by other guys. Well, from the ones that had morals anyway. Some guys didn’t care if a girl is taken or not.

When I made it to my English Comp I class, Austin was already there and I noticed he spotted his property right away, and I don’t mean me. That brought a smile to his face.

I sat beside him. “Morning, boyfriend.”

That sounded so weird coming from my mouth.

“Morning, girlfriend.”

That was almost as weird, but for the last three or four weeks I had been thinking of myself as a girl, for the most part, so it wasn’t quite as bad. The idea that I voluntarily had a boyfriend was a much bigger issue that needed time to sink in properly.

He leaned over and innocently pecked my cheek. I tried my best not to flinch away and thought I played my part fairly convincingly. That was until he mentioned it.

“We need to get used to it, so we don’t look fake,” he whispered.

I gave him a barely perceptible nod. “I know; it’s cool.”

By lunchtime I was almost comfortable with him holding my hand loosely in his, and that’s the way it went from Wednesday to Friday. Austin added little things here and there in an effort to make me relax. By Friday, I didn’t feel totally gay while he rested his hand on my hip as we talked to some of his friends here and there. I just kept a running mantra in my head.

You’re a girl and Austin is your boyfriend. You like it when he touches you. It makes you feel feminine and appreciated.

Over and over I repeated that whenever we were together, and that was becoming quite a lot of time. It was almost like we were spending every available moment together. Granted, it was only a couple of days and we would be working on school stuff a lot of the time, but still.

By Friday, I was getting nervous. I didn’t like any of the party dresses I had. They were for more formal occasions, so I was in a bind until Kelsey decided she’d heard enough of my whining.

“Here,” she held out a black dress. “You’re driving me nuts.”

I looked at the dress with envy. “It won’t fit. You’re a size smaller than I am.”

“It’s too big on me and it’s mostly spandex. It’ll fit. Now go get dressed, and wear the stilettos with that. I’ll be in to help you with your makeup later.”

I almost squealed, but held myself back enough to wait until I was in my room. The top portion and the arms were black lace and everything else was spandex, so it fit perfectly. I went through my routine, making sure my skin was smooth and my nails were fresh. Then I spent a lot of time making sure my hair was just right, pulled up and away from my face with little tendrils bordering the sides.

My earrings were properly dangling, heavier than I was used to so they tugged a little more than normal and so on.

By the time Kelsey arrived to help me with my eye shadow, I was getting even more nervous.

“Quit fidgeting,” she said. “You’re acting like he going to take your virginity tonight or something.”

“Kelsey!”

“Remember, you can’t have sex with him, Kayla, as much as you obviously want to.”

“I do not want to have sex with Austin. I just want to have fun.”

She sighed dramatically. “And there goes the studious little sister I had at the beginning of term. She’s turned into a boy hungry strumpet.”

I knew she was teasing me, but at least she wasn’t going through one of her bitchy phases. I was grateful enough for that.

“I’m not boy hungry. Besides, I can’t have sex with him. I’m supposed to wait until after I get married, according to the Society, and that’s never going to happen since I’m not gay.”

Kelsey paused for a moment and then resumed her ministrations. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat, little sister.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I didn’t like the obvious implication of her tone.

“I’ve read over your scholarship contract, back when you first started this thing. It must have been written thirty years ago or something. You can’t have vaginal sex, like that’s all girls in 2011 do for fun. It was very specific.”

I pulled away. “You can stop right there. There will be no type of sex, manual, oral, or otherwise.” It was the otherwise portion that made me wince. “I don’t like guys, okay?”

She mumbled something I didn’t catch and finished work on my eyes while I stewed. All during the process, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head about doing things with Austin, things that were totally against my nature. I seriously needed some brain bleach, pronto.

The boys showed up right on time. Brandon’s eyes nearly popped when he saw me, Austin’s were more subdued, but still impressed.

My boyfriend and I got in the back of Brandon’s car and quietly held hands until we got to the on campus fraternity house. It wasn’t giant or anything. Its purpose was solely for meetings, gatherings, and parties. The only people who got to live there were seniors, according to Austin.

We were greeted at the front and ushered inside to partake of a watered down fruit punch. There wasn’t any alcohol allowed on campus, but that didn’t stop a few people from bringing some and slipping it in their own drinks.

For thirty minutes, I studied the girls who were dancing, how they moved and what they did with their hands. It was soon after that Austin asked me if I wanted to give it a try. I hadn’t planned on being that much of a girl when I started all of this a few month previous, so I was naturally nervous.

Some Ke$ha song was playing, which I liked, so I nodded amidst the loud music. It only took me a few seconds to find some moves I was comfortable with. Austin was a great dancer which in turn made me look better than I was, and we stayed out for another four songs before taking a break.

“You want another drink?”

I nodded and smiled before he disappeared. Then I was kidnapped soon after by a gaggle of sorority girls.

There was a large porch in the back of the house that had been claimed by them apparently.

“How did you do it?” a blonde sporting big hair asked with a little more emphasis than casual conversation required.

“Do what?”

“Hook Austin Hamilton. You do know who he is, right? Half the girls in our sorority have tried and he’s shot every one of them down.”

I paused and looked at some of the faces of the girls that were almost surrounding me. A couple weren’t pleasant, but most of them looked like they just wanted some juicy tidbits to chew on.

I shrugged my shoulders. “We got set up on a semi-blind date and we just hit it off.”

A brunette pointed at my dress, right where the lace and spandex met, right where something of Austin’s sat.

“You’re pinned.”

I brushed it for reassurance and smiled. “Yeah, Austin’s sweet.”

Was I overdoing it? I didn’t know.

I heard one of the girls growl. “Was it sex? Is that what he wanted? Something kinky?”

I blinked and almost laughed if I didn’t realize at that second she was a hundred percent serious. “No. I’m a SPFV girl. No sex for me until I’m married.”

“What?” That was said by more than a few of them.

I looked back at the door for a timely rescue, but I spotted my absent boyfriend was talking to some guy in an overly familiar way on the other side of the house. His hand was resting on the other guy’s shoulder. A sudden spike of jealously shot through me and I nearly yakked at the thought, so I tried to distract myself.

Waving the girls over to a quieter portion of the porch, I gave them the Society spiel. It had to be good for at least a few weeks of suggesting something feminine for other girls every day.

“We talked about it on our first date. You have to be straight up with boys about what to expect, right?”

A couple of them nodded while others looked at me curiously.

“I belong to a group called the Society for the Promotion of Feminine Values. Basically it’s a good girl’s club. We make it a point to separate boys and girls. You know how it’s hard to tell who’s who sometimes? Girls wearing boys clothes, boys wearing androgynous clothes… well the Society promotes girls actually being girls.”

The blonde shot back, “You mean wearing dresses all the time and high heels?”

I shook my head. “No, while its encouraged, you can wear what you want as long as it isn’t masculine. No ratty jeans, tank tops, work boots. Me, I just like to wear dresses. It’s a lot cooler during the summer, but in the winter I’ll probably switch to cords or wear a lot of thick tights. I love looking like a girl and Austin really likes it. Maybe that’s why he picked me.”

Half of them started separating, obviously finding me a can short of a six-pack, but there were a few girls that stayed around.

I totally lost track of time making new friends, girls pretty enough that I would have never talked to them as Kevin for fear I’d be laughed at, but as Kayla I was an equal.

At the end, I’d exchanged numbers with five of them and had invitation to rush two sororities as well.

Me in a sorority; can you imagine?

“Hey pretty girl, where ya been?”

I turned around and Austin was standing there smiling at me. He took my hand and slipped his other on my hip leaning in to peck me on the mouth. I nearly jumped back, but remembered the girls at the last second. Austin and I were supposed to be dating and people that date kiss a lot.

After the closed lipped peck — I need for you to know that it was closed lipped just in case you missed that — I turned back around and Austin slipped his hands on my hips and encircled me.

“Girls, this is Austin, my boyfriend, Austin, the girls: Emma, Samantha, Grace, Hannah, and Avery. I’ve been telling them about the Society.”

“Good evening, ladies. Mind if I steal, Kayla from you. I have a serious need to dance.”

“Bye Kayla,” they sang back as I waved.

“Been making new friends I see,” Austin said as we walked back inside to the end of a moderately fast song.

“Yeah, they’re great. I’m glad I came tonight.”

Right as we hit the dance floor a slow song started and I nearly groaned. Dancing with a guy was fine for a fast song, but a slow one meant touching and being intimate.

“Sorry, I didn’t know they were going to do that,” he said.

Biting the bullet, I interlocked my hands behind his neck and pulled our bodies closer together.

“I’ll live.”

Both of his hands found my lower back and we started swaying a little, in place. Austin was looking rather deep into my eyes and I wanted to avoid him having any of those weird feelings so I broke the connection and lay my head on his shoulder like a few other girls were doing with their partners. This in turn pressed our bodies even closer together.

Before I started this little feminine adventure I hadn’t dated anyone for six months and hadn’t had sex in almost as long. So you’ll have to understand that it had been almost nine months with nobody else but my hand and even that was starting to become fewer and fewer times. Maybe it was because I kept the boys squished for the majority of the day, but I tended to react strongly only when they’re free. That meant bath time when I had the extra time. What I’m getting at is dancing intimately like that provoked a reaction that I wasn’t used to, especially when Austin was having the same type as me and I could feel it.

“Kayla,” he spoke in a low tone. I pulled back and looked at him. “Would you mind… that is…”

Before I knew it, I felt a hand at my neck and it was tugging me gently closer.

“Austin,” I hissed.

Looking around quickly I saw almost all the couples were kissing.

He was so going to pay for putting me in that position. I closed my eyes and tried my best to imagine one of the girls I met tonight, Hannah, was in his place when our lips met. Instead, that stupid mantra I was thinking for the last two days popped in there to say hello.

You’re a girl and Austin is your boyfriend. You like it when he touches you. It makes you feel feminine and appreciated. You’re a girl and Austin is your boyfriend. You like it when he touches you. It makes you feel feminine and appreciated.

The kiss deepened and his tongue came out to play. One of his hands wandered and found its way to my butt, tugging me in further. If we wound up any closer he’d be inside me and that was never going to happen. I broke the kiss and grabbed his hand.

“Not in public, dear,” I hissed again.

“Sorry.”

Laying my head on his shoulder again saw I was pretty close to his ear. “I saw you flirting with that guy earlier. Did anything happen that I need to be aware of?”

His body stiffened. “Um…”

“If you’re going to cheat on me, Austin, I’m ending this now. I have standards I have to maintain. You know that.”

“We didn’t do anything.”

I wasn’t so sure. “Then why are you so horny right now? I know I didn’t make you that way.”

“Can we not talk about this in the middle of the dance floor?”

I sighed and took his hand as I backed away. “Take me home, Austin.”

There was a pout on his face and I had to return it with a mild glare. He complied and went to find Brandon so he could borrow his car. Ten minutes later, after I said bye to the girls we were barreling toward the apartment.

“So…” I said trying in vain to finish the conversation. “Would you have even told me or would I have heard about it via the grapevine?”

“I didn’t do anything Kayla. I flirted a little. He flirted back. That was it.”

I crossed my arms and couldn’t believe I was feeling jealous. I was seriously confused.

“You’re a little too feminine for my tastes, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not gay, Austin.”

“Could have fooled me. I wasn’t back there kissing myself on the dance floor.”

“You kissed me, hello! What was I supposed to do, slap you? I thought nobody was supposed to know about you?”

“Very few people do.”

We drove on for a couple more minutes and he threw a proposition at me. “Look, why don’t we not call it a night.”

I just looked over at him.

“Your sister is going to be spending the night at my apartment with Brandon. Why don’t I come in and you can take off all that stuff… we could get to know one another a little better.”

If I was truthful too myself, I’d admit there was a part of me that wanted to be treated just like a girl, but what he was asking for made me bury that away even deeper than it was before. He wanted me to be a guy and I couldn’t do that. Not because of the Society, although that played a major role in my decision, but because I liked being a girl more than I realized.

“I’m a girl, Austin. I may not know exactly where my head’s at concerning sex at the moment, but I know for the next four years at least, I’m a girl.”

As he pulled up to my apartment, I reached up and took off his pin to set on the console between the seats.

“Kayla…”

“Thanks for this week,” I said with touch of finality. “It’s been educational and fun. And good luck finding a guy that I’m sure you’ll like better than a really confused… me.”

With that, I leaned over and kissed him of my own volition. It wasn’t anything deep or soul searching. It was just something spur of the moment, something that a girl might do on a whim. The action felt right and that’s all that mattered at the moment.

TBC...