Photo Credit: Amye E.

Episode Six

Finals week had arrived and I found myself in the unfamiliar position of cramming the weekend before the tests. For my first semester I didn’t have any problem because of all of my free time to study. This round I was so caught up with Brandon, Society House, my psychiatrist, losing two Society sisters because of the change in the charter regarding sexuality and gender, fielding phone calls, and simple daily life that I had absolutely no free time for extra study.

My only resort was locking myself in my room and putting a do not disturb unless it’s an emergency sign on the handle.

It didn’t matter, because emergencies still came up, but by Sunday night I thought I had the material down pretty well.

“You look seriously stressed, Avery said as we were enjoying a coffee with Hannah and Grace.”

I wearily shook my head. “After Wednesday I’ll be fine. We need a jacuzzi here for finals week.”

Grace bounced her feet as they hung over the side of the chair she was laying on. “Honestly, Kayla, I don’t see how you do it. I would have run screaming after the second week.”

Hannah nodded along and watched Avery reach over and squeeze my hand.

“It’s important,” I said. “The problem is I have so many important things in my life right now, and I really miss Mall Wars with you guys. Thanks for coming over tonight.”

It was Avery’s idea. She knew I’d been missing Hannah. It may sound stupid and contrary to what I’ve said in the past regarding my minor crush, but I needed to have her in my life, even if it was just to look at or talk to for an hour. She was always so relaxed and carefree.

Hannah leaned back and kicked her feet over the side of the chair while I watched. In a few seconds she was playing footsie with Grace who was giggling. I sighed and just took another sip at my mug while I glanced at Avery. She rolled her eyes with a hidden smile.

There was some noise from the stairs and when I looked over I saw Carrie leaping from the bottom step dramatically. “I’m finished! No more studying for me.”

Setting my mug down, I golf-clapped as she sat dramatically on the couch and faked falling dead with her head in my lap… conveniently.

My hand automatically went to her head so I could run my fingers through her hair which not only soothed Carrie, but me at the same time.

When I looked up with a smile, I saw Hannah’s eyes move away from Carrie before she swung her legs back around and stood. “I gotta go. It’s a long day tomorrow.”

I frowned but understood. “Thanks for coming by. I missed you guys.”

She shrugged and bent over to kiss my cheek. “Try not to have a nervous breakdown before Wednesday, Kayla.”

Grace did the same and I watched as Avery let them out and locked the door behind. When she came back to her seat it was with a knowing smile on her face. By the time she was comfortable, I heard a very light snore come from Carrie.

The little girl was amazing. She could fall asleep at a moment’s notice.

Avery looked at her and then back up at me. “Hannah’s jealous.”

“Of who?”

“Carrie.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s the attention you give her.”

She’d been pulling this kind of thing for the last month, acting like Hannah actually liked me in that way. It wasn’t all the time or even often. Maybe once a week she’d mention something like Hannah misses me or something to that effect.

“Hannah’s not interested in me,” I said.

“I think you’re wrong.”

“She obviously straight, Avery. Why would that change just because of me?”

After she set her mug on the coaster beside her, she shifted to see me better. “Ever since you went go-go-lesbian and t-girls I see her looking at you. She told me she’s putting in her app for Society house after term ends.”

My eyes bugged. “Seriously?”

Avery ran her finger around the rim of her mug as she grinned. “Uh-huh. I suppose we’ll have to hurry up and fill the rest of the spaces so she’ll have to room with you.”

The last part was said with a giggle.

While the idea excited me, I brought myself back down to reality. “I’m perfectly happy with Brandon, and besides I’m can’t follow the same rules as you guys. I’m still on scholarship with the SPFV. They are very strict about that rule. So it’s all a moot point.”

Avery’s lips pressed together. “You know, with your grades you can apply for other scholarships. They aren’t just offered to high school seniors. Maybe a student loan?”

I shook my head. “This is a sure thing and it’s almost perfect for me. Besides, we couldn’t have Society House without Mrs. Burke’s support.”

“You think she’d pull it with all the girls here?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, but I’d rather not take the chance.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes to stretch. “You’re such a martyr. Hannah would be better for you than Brandon.”

“I think that’s a matter of opinion. Brandon’s been very good to me.”

“But he’s a boy,” she said. “I can’t picture you being with a boy even when he’s got his arm around you.”

Cocking my head I looked at her oddly. “Seriously?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know what it is. I just know that you love to surround yourself with femininity. The only boy you interact with, except by necessity, is Brandon and Austin, sort of. Austin doesn’t count for a few reasons so that leaves Brandon. I mean can you really picture yourself married to him and living in a house with a deer head mounted over the fireplace, playing Suzie-homemaker?”

With a giggle I lifted up my mug and sipped at last of my coffee. “He doesn’t hunt. I seriously doubt he’d have a deer head over his fireplace.”

With a quick lunge Avery pointed at me, but kept her voice low so she wouldn’t wake Carrie. “There, right there. Did you notice how you referred to Brandon’s future by himself? His fireplace, not our fireplace. You do this all the time, honey. After five months with him you still don’t look at him as a long term prospect.”

“I…”

She was right. Even after Spring Break when I first tried to visualize us together, I went out and flipped through a bridal magazine at the book store. While I could definitely see myself in several of the dresses, mentally photoshopping my face on the brides depicted therein, when I did the same with Brandon and the grooms, it never looked right.

I was still attracted to him. I wanted him in a physical way, but I didn’t seem to want him for the long haul. And that was disconcerting.

Shaking my head, I covered my eyes. “Maybe I just need to have some sort of sex with him to get it in my head?”

Her face fell. “Are you serious? You’re trying to make yourself really love him?”

“He’s a good guy,” I protested. “He’s done so much for me. He supports me, and he’s a great friend…”

“Exactly, he’s a great friend,” she said with a confidant tone. “I’m not saying to kick him to the curb, Kayla. I’m just saying you need to really think about if you love him and if there’s any future for you two. If not, then you’re doing him a disservice by staying.”

My internal defense mechanism went off or something. “It’s only been five months.”

“And you’re not a pre-teen anymore. Relationships are different as an adult. If you’re dating him for companionship or sex or whatever, that’s fine, Kayla, but think about it from his perspective. He’s given up sex for you. The boy is smitten and in love. If you don’t love him, I mean really love him then what you’re doing is cruel.”

~O~

Sunday nights is when I usually revert to my in-between form. I’m talking about removal of the prosthetics, and my weekly scrub in the bath.

My hair was up in a shower cap and I leaned back in the overly sudsy water afterward trying to make sense of what Avery had been saying. My thoughts ran all over my current relationship with Brandon, every single date, and cuddle that I could remember. It made me so incredibly sad that I couldn’t make myself love him like Avery was talking about.

I pushed my brain into fantasy-land forcing it through a make believe wedding and eventually to the honeymoon, which I had to skip over. This was because while I could imagine making out with him, the final event of taking him into me always wound up being painful and horrific in the end. No pun intended.

Then I tried to picture us years later. We would adopt two children, a girl and a boy. I would be a loving and caring mother even when my baby boy grew up to be a slacker and eventually went to college on a SPFV scholarship and found out that he wanted to be a girl like his mom.

“GAH!” I rubbed a wet hand down my face. “Focus, Kayla.”

There it was again. I’d imagined myself later in life and Brandon wasn’t there. Kids were, a house was, me being a mother was, but there wasn’t a partner. Was I destined to be alone?

An inkling of putting Hannah in that position edged into my head, but I pushed it away, not wanting to go down that path. If I thought I had trouble holding myself back from a physical relationship with Brandon, I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be in love with Hannah and not even be able to hold her hand romantically without losing my scholarship.

~O~

Each final exam let me become more and more confident until, at last, they were over. I’d made it and I was still alive with one full year of academic achievement under my skirt. Once my grades arrived, I would have confirmation that I’d aced my tests and was officially a sophomore.

The last of the girls had packed their things away and left for the summer, while I was closing down the house for a week before first summer session started.

Only three girls were returning for that and April was moving in as well.

I checked my email one last time before leaving and was not surprised to find Hannah’s application in my inbox. Opening it up, I gave it a general glance before printing it out and replying that of course she was accepted; no interview needed. ~Love Kayla XOXOXO

Brandon showed up, bright and cheery, to drive me to my parent’s house for the break. He wouldn’t be taking any summer classes so this was the last we would regularly see each other. I honestly didn’t want to broach the subject of our relationship during that time, at least until I had more of a chance to really think it over and maybe get some advice from my mom or Mrs. Burke.

Instead, I treated the time we spent together as just another day: snuggled up beside him for the ride home, spent a good ten minutes saying goodbye after he took my suitcase inside, and waved when he left.

He was a good boyfriend and I wasn’t so sure where I stood on my girlfriend status.

Mom had her arm around my waist and waved goodbye with me before hugging me for a third time since my return.

“Fix your lipstick, honey. It’s smudged.”

I grinned at her and went to do so. When I returned, mom was seated at the breakfast table watching me.

“Honestly, Kayla. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were born a girl. You’re perfect.”

“Thank you,” I said at the compliment, though I didn’t like being reminded of my status.

It was hard enough hearing about it from my therapist every week. Every time I went to visit her it felt like I was reverting, having cold water splashed in my face. I may sound like I don’t like my therapy. Well, it’s true. I hated having to do it. I wasn’t accomplishing anything. Going to someone you really don’t know and telling them all of your secrets, then having them holding up your transition until they were satisfied that you were sane, wasn’t really sane sounding in itself.

She had my future in her hands and I hated that. I wanted to be the one that controlled my life.

“I admit that I was wrong about you and Brandon. You seem very happy with each other,” Mom said.

I smoothed my skirt and sat down, finally meeting her eyes. “I’m going to break up with him.”

Her mouth dropped open. It seemed like I still had the power to shock my mother into speechlessness.

“I don’t love him and it’s wrong for me to string him along.”

She finally closed her mouth and then relaxed in her chair. “Was he pressuring you into…?”

Shaking my head, I held up a consoling hand. “He’s been the perfect gentleman, Mom. It’s not him, it’s me.”

It sounded cliché, but it was hard to argue with facts. It really was me.

Mom sighed as she reached across and patted my hand. “Well I can’t say that I’m not relieved in some ways. The way Kelsey talked…”

“What did she say!”

Her lips firmed at her accidental faux pas. “It was girl talk, Kayla. I was simply worried about your first time. Anal sex can be painful enough with a normal-sized penis if you’re not careful. I can’t imagine what…”

Apparently, I couldn’t let her finish a single thought without interrupting with virtual hysterics. “You two discussed the size of my boyfriend’s penis?”

“Honey, you’re dating your sister’s ex-boyfriend. She told me a while back about his, um… girth.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe…”

“Why do you think I was so mad at Christmas when I saw him? The idea that he would have his way with you… in that way.”

The whole conversation was surreal. “Well you don’t have to worry about the elasticity or lack thereof of my butt anymore; thank God. I’m going to go unpack.”

“Kayla…”

Why couldn’t I have just one normal conversation with my mother without it turning into some freak-fest of galactic proportions?

~O~

For the rest of the day whenever she was about to say something, I’d give her a look then she’d pause and hopefully rethink any statements. It made for an interesting evening.

After dinner, Kelsey went to her room and I caught Mom and Daddy up on events, my grades, my tests, and Society House.

“What about your therapy?” asked Daddy.

“Moving along at a snail’s pace; thanks for asking.” When they looked at each other I offered up a little more. “If she won’t sign off on my hormones the next time I see her, I’m switching therapists. I’ll deal with having to talk to a guy if need be.”

“You’re giving her an ultimatum?” Mom asked.

“I guess so. This is ridiculous. I know who I am, I know what I am, and I know who I need to be.”

Daddy tried to be the voice of reason. “Honey, I realize this is a difficult time for you, but this is what they do for a living. They might know better.”

I looked at him, feeling somewhat betrayed. “Are you guys even listening to what I’m saying? Here, turn it around. Suppose that you’re the one who had to wear suit skirts and high heels to work, Dad. You wouldn’t like it too much because you know you’re a man and men have a different dress code. Only one person can say that you can wear a regular suit, but she won’t. Does that mean she knows better than you about who you are?”

It was a somewhat lame hypothetical, but I was too frustrated to think of anything else at the moment.

They just sat there letting a painful silence settle between us. It was sad to think that my one refuge as a child had become the one place where I felt most uncomfortable. Home had changed its meaning for me, because I was accepted at Society House for who I really was. When I was around people that knew me as Kevin, I was tense, waiting for the next rude or thoughtless comment.

Pushing up off the couch, I looked at the both of them. “May I borrow the car? I’d like to go to the mall.”

Daddy just nodded, lost in thought. Mom tried to be motherly, I suppose. “Do you want some company?”

I shook my head. “I want to be alone right now.”

~O~

Being behind the wheel of an actual car was strange. Having been carted around by my friends, sister, and father, I hadn’t driven once in almost a year. So you can imagine why I wore sandals until I got to the mall. When I arrived, I put my heels back on and locked the car up before taking my time walking inside.

While summer wasn’t in full swing, it was still hot. That’s why I wore a simple but pretty tank dress. Over the months, I’d gotten a lot more comfortable with exposing the skin on my body, but I was still conscious of remaining on the conservative end of sexy. That meant that the skin I showed was my legs, and shoulders, not mounds of cleavage or the majority of my back and belly.

The air conditioning felt wonderful slipping up under my dress and caressing my shoulders as I entered the mall. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to wear anything but dresses during the summer.

Walking around, I simply window shopped. While I had reached the end of my debit card, I still had a hundred and forty dollars left, saved for an emergency over the last month. I didn’t go anywhere in April either so I had a little over a hundred in cash as well. I felt like the richest girl in the world for a little while.

The mall was crowded seeing as school was out for most of the colleges in the area and high school seniors were ramping up for prom. When my feet started hurting, after an hour or so, I made my way to the food court and bought a smoothie before sitting down.

Just across the aisle was the Game Stop that I spent the majority of my formative years playing anything they had set up on demo, much like the teens that were in there at the moment. I saw Portal 2 and Duke Nukem Forever up on the screens followed by a pang of melancholy twisting a little in my stomach.

I wanted nothing more than to get up and see if I still had my gaming skills, but looking down at my nails and their half inch length I knew it was a futile fantasy. I’d much rather have the nails. The length was much longer than what was in style, I know, but the more I grew them, the more I loved how they looked. Games came and went, but my femininity was me; it’s who I was. My doctor and my parents couldn’t take that away from me.

“Excuse me,” said a guy to my left.

I looked up and saw Charlie Crawford, a friend of mine back during my freshman year in high school. He’d moved to a different district at the end of the year and we’d lost touch soon thereafter. He’d changed, grown up, obviously. In fact he looked pretty good: well over six feet tall, short cropped hair, filled out with firm muscle without going over the top. Grace would like him; heck, I liked him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know this is going to sound really cheesy, but I swear I know you from somewhere. Did we go to school together at Hastings?”

I smiled and shook my head. “I went to Scarborough.”

He snapped his fingers. “Maybe that’s it. I went to Scarborough for ninth grade. I’m Charles Crawford.”

Charles? He hated that name.

Lifting my hand up to meet his, I said, “I’m Kayla.”

He was genuinely trying to figure it out as the frown dropped over his face. “That doesn’t sound familiar, but I swear that I know you.”

I didn’t like lying to him since he was one of my friends for the better part of five years growing up. Odds were that I’d never see him again, and I wasn’t at school, so my scholarship was in any danger, so I told the truth.

“You do, or rather you did. We grew up together, met in fourth grade, and you moved away in ninth. We lost contact.”

His face was full of disbelief as he pulled out a chair and sat down, really looking at me, but coming up with nothing.

“I’m really embarrassed.” At least he was truthful and not trying to hit on me. “Were you one of my friend’s sisters or something? I think I’d remember someone that looked like you.”

Realizing what he was saying, Charlie doubled back. “I mean your eyes are really gray, that’s something that I’d remember… not that you’re not pretty or anything… I mean.”

His face was tingeing red and I’m sure my cheeks were pink at the flattery.

“Don’t worry, Charlie. I look totally different than I used to. I’m actually kind of surprised you recognized me at all. Nobody else ever has.”

His eyes dropped away as I saw him looking at my legs and then back up to my eyes. “I’m a face kind of person. I have to be in my line of work.”

Leaning forward I set my elbow on the table and raised my hand to my chin as I smiled. “What do you do?”

“I just graduated the police academy.”

I know my eyes sparkled. “You’re a cop. Do you have a badge?”

“Well, I’m off today… and don’t think I haven’t noticed how we’ve switched subjects. Who are you? What’s your last name?”

Taking a chance, I leaned back and sipped at my smoothie. “Konstantine.”

He blinked and then searched his memory. I hoped that he wasn’t going to be an undercover cop or anything because he wore every emotion on his face. The one he was currently trying out was confusion.

“Konstantine… hold on? I knew a Kevin Konstantine, but I know you’re not Kelsey. She wouldn’t be caught dead at the mall in a nice dress. He didn’t have any other sisters.” Looking back at my face I saw him searching and putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Oh…”

“Hi, Charlie; long time no see.”

“Kev…”

“Kayla now.”

Again his eyes combed over me. “Whoa. What happened? I mean…”

“I woke up. You’re not going to freak out or anything, right?”

He kept blinking. It made me think he had something in his eyes. “You’re a girl?”

“I am.”

When Charlie finally got a hold of himself, he nodded and then got up. “Well, it was nice seeing you again.”

Then he left, joining up with two other guys about ten tables down before they took off and left the mall.

That was my first contact with my old life and it was less than stellar.

It took me another fifteen minutes to finish off the smoothie before I’d had enough. My hometown was a memory and it was slowly becoming a faded one. There was very little for me within its limits. With the birth of Kayla came freedom in more ways than one. All of my good memories were of college, even the ones that were less than satisfying. I was in control there. I was somebody.

~O~

“What are you doing?” My mom asked as I was sorting through Kevin’s life in his room.

“Boxing up all my stuff. I’m going to sell it and set the money aside for my GRS. Gotta start somewhere.”

She paused before entirely entering my room. “Are you sure, honey? What if…”

I shook my head with mild amusement. “Kevin’s gone, Mom. I don’t know if he even really existed.”

“Of course he did… you did. What are you talking about?”

Setting the box aside I sat down and crossed my legs. “I’ve been on cruise control my entire life. The only thing I’ve ever been interested in since puberty is video games. I mean, seriously can you think of anything else?”

“Kayla…” I could tell she was reaching for something, but even my own mother knew it was the truth.

“It’s a good thing, Mom,” I said. “I’ve got direction now. I know what I want. I’m happy; even when I’m sad, I’m happy. It may be because I finally figured out that I should have been a girl all along, or maybe it’s because of my duties at Society House or my friends or any number of other things. So I made a decision to pack Kevin away and sell him off because he’s not coming back.”

~O~

Wednesday of the following week I went in the SPFV for my evaluation. This time I got to drive myself. When I got there, the parking lot was empty save for a single limousine waiting in front of the door. After locking Mom’s car I put the keys in my purse and hadn’t made it halfway across the parking lot before the driver of the limo hopped out and opened the back door to the limo.

Taking a peek inside, I saw Mrs. Burke and Mr. Williams, Carrie’s dad, inside enjoying a flute of something alcoholic looking. Mrs. Burke waved me inside.

“Come, Kayla,” she said. “There will be no evaluation for you today. We have other plans.”

Glancing at Mr. Williams, I nervously smiled and slid onto the seat beside Mrs. Burke and fastened my seatbelt.

I’d never been inside a limo before and it took me a few moments to see how the other half lived. Needless to say, I was envious. Everything was all plush leather, thick carpeting, and most of all, it was clean. There was an entire computer setup and bar next to Mr. Williams and that led me to think it was his car that we were riding in.

“Care for something to drink, Kayla? I have sodas, or bottled water.”

“No thank you, sir.”

Turning to Mrs. Burke, I tried to take her in without being obvious. What I saw didn’t make me happy. She looked ten years older than the last time I saw her only a few months before. Her wrinkles, once thin and numerous were very thick, and with her pale face she almost look gaunt and frail.

“Where are we going?”

She patted my hand. “Lunch, dear. Relax. I already called your mother and arranged for her to pick up the car. Dominic will be dropping you off when we’re finished with our business.”

In a few minutes we were on the freeway heading downtown.

“Mrs. Burke…” I started, but she held a finger up to her lips.

“Shh. Enjoy the ride, Kayla. We’ll have plenty of time for questions and answers later. I promise.”

Mr. Williams made a noncommittal motion with his head that I couldn’t figure out then he did something with one of the controls to his left. Light classical music sifted through the car, and I watched as Mrs. Burke closed her eyes and smiled. While I knew I wasn’t being kidnapped, the whole scene was very disconcerting all the same, so I spent a lot of time looking out the window and staring at everyone that was staring at the limo as we passed.

When we reached the crowded streets of downtown, I looked up at all the skyscrapers wondering what it was like to come to work every day in a place like that, being on the upper floors and looking down at humanity, being one of the one percent. While I knew with proper motivation, education, and connections I could eventually be there if I wanted, I knew it wasn’t for me. If running Society House had taught me anything, at times it was being in charge was more trouble than it was worth.

I’m not saying that I regret my position or being a figurehead for femininity. I guess I was just wondering why I had to be there in the first place.

Eventually we stopped in an underground parking garage and the driver did something in the trunk before opening the door next to Mrs. Burke. Sitting there, I watched, almost in tears as he helped her into position in her wheelchair. Seeing her using a walker was one thing, but witnessing the strong woman I’d come to know over the last school year reduced to depending on others simply for getting out of a car was heartbreaking.

Once she was clear, Mr. Williams looked at me with a grim face and motioned to the door. “After you, Kayla.”

Maneuvering in a suit skirt, in a limo, wasn’t a practice I was familiar with and I was sure I’d inadvertently flashed Carrie’s dad at least once. By the time I struggled out I was sure my face was glowing red.

While I was straightening out my skirt, Mrs. Burke was halfway to the bank of elevators using the joystick controller at her fingertips. She looked comfortable using it leading me to believe the wheelchair wasn’t a recent acquisition.

We rode the elevator to the seventy-eighth floor, second from the top, and stepped out into a rather posh dining area, completely lacking of any patrons.

“Welcome to the Century Club, Kayla,” Mr. Williams said. “It’s one of mine, so be sure to make yourself at home, order what you like and enjoy yourself.”

Looking around, I was seriously impressed. “Thank you.”

I guessed defense contracting was a lucrative business, either that or Mr. Williams had his fingers in a lot of pots; probably the latter.

Once we’d sat, and attained our drinks, the conversation turned to me and my exploits over the last semester. It was pretty much a summary of my emails to Mrs. Burke, so nothing was out of the ordinary until we reached the amendment to the charter after Spring Break.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get to this, Kayla,” said Mrs. Burke.

“Pardon?”

She made a dismissing motion with her hand. “I don’t specifically mean the lesbian thing. I don’t care about that. I meant branching off from the SPFV charter. Change is in the nature of the world. Stay standing long enough and life will wind up passing you by.”

I thought that statement seemed a little off, since the charter was loaded with a lot of stagnated rules.

“I’m not sure I understand where this is going, Mrs. Burke.”

She fingered her water glass for a moment before sighing almost imperceptively.

“I’m disbanding the SPFV.”

My breathing stopped when my eyes went wide. “But…”

“It served its purpose, Kayla. I’ve spent a good portion of my life attempting to reverse the building masculine trend that women have adopted in their misguided attempt to be liberated.”

It may have been selfish, but the first thing I thought of was me. My scholarship would be ended. I wouldn’t be able to afford college and unable to live at Society House any longer.

“They think that masculinity is synonymous with equality and it couldn’t be further from the truth,” she said. “You know all of this already. I’m quoting your scholarship essay, of course.”

“Martha,” said Mr. Williams, as he interrupted her train of thought. “You’re forgetting something.”

Her eyes locked on his for a moment and then she looked at me. She reached over and patted my upper arm. “No need to fret, young lady; your scholarship isn’t in danger. That’s part of the reason why Mr. Williams and I brought you here.”

Inside my mind’s landscape, I think I may have fainted from relief, but I tried not to let it show on my face. I nodded and looked at her curiously instead.

“Why am I here?”

Mrs. Burke relaxed back in her chair with a tired smile. “Later, child. Let’s enjoy our lunch.”

The next forty minutes was the most excruciating time of my life. A large portion of my new life, that I’d come to depend upon, was disappearing. Mrs. Burke looked like she might keel over at any moment and Mr. Williams was calm, cool, and collected, acting like nothing was amiss whatsoever.

I kept it together though. Propriety dictated that I should listen to Mrs. Burke and simply enjoy the meal, so that’s the face I put on for her. By the time dessert was served, I could only pick at the rich strawberry cheesecake. Instead, I concentrated on my coffee, taking small sips as we chatted endlessly over future ideas for Society House.

Once the meal was finished I thought we’d get straight to business, but instead we returned to the limo and went back to our starting point. After our goodbyes were said, the driver helped Mrs. Burke out of the limo, into her wheelchair, and safely to the house. All the while I’m still wondering what was going on.

Mr. Williams poured himself a drink of some type of hard liquor and leaned back in his seat, all the while looking at me.

“So, Kayla, tell me how long will it be until your GRS.”

My eyes widened and a jolt of panic ran through me. It was one of my worst fears come to life. Someone of authority and respectable power had found me out. Granted, a number of people already knew about my status, but that was because I thought they had a right to know. This was an entirely different situation.

“What? Why… um…”

He took a sip of his drink and then set it down, slowly twirling the glass.

“I make it my business to know everything about everyone that comes in contact with my family. That includes you. Though I must say that you pull off the masquerade quite well. You make a very lovely young woman.”

The tone of his voice wasn’t complementary in the normal sense. It sounded almost flirty or admiring. Coming from a man in his early forties, I was mildly grossed out. Mr. Williams, for his age, was an attractive man. If I was forty, I probably wouldn’t mind dating him, but with me being in my first year of college, the age gap was more than inappropriate. That doesn’t even take into account that his daughter was one of my good friends.

Needless to say, I was taken aback and rendered speechless.

“Come now, Kayla. I assure you that there’s nothing dastardly going on here. Martha and I only want what is best for you.”

Not liking the situation I was in, I grabbed my purse and made to open the door so I could leave.

“Stop. If you walk away now, you might as well kiss your scholarship and Society House goodbye. I’m sure the girls will be more than surprised to find out that they’ve been duped by a boy for all this time. Not to mention what the news media will make of your life once I drop your name and accomplishments in certain ears.”

That announcement took the wind out of my resolve to bolt. Slowly, I release the door handle and leaned back. My eyes were already welling up as I clutched my purse against my breast.

“What do you want?”

He shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “Don’t worry. I appreciate what you’ve done with my daughter. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her and I’ve got you to thank for it. I want you to continue to do what you’re doing.”

His eyes dropped to my legs and then lifted back up.

“Your education is already provided for through Martha, and she tells me that you’ve also earned a clothing allowance as well. You’ve done very well for yourself.”

Swallowing my fear down, I defended myself. “I earned every bit of that, Mr. Williams.”

“Believe me, I know. You’ve earned that and much much more. I’m simply here to boost your education and rewards.”

“What?”

I was officially clueless at this point.

“The credit card that I gave you, do you still have it?”

Since I was to be away from Society House for a week, I made sure to bring it home with me. There was no telling what would happen in a completely empty house. So, I nodded.

“Good.” He reached over and opened up a briefcase, retrieving a manila folder before handing it to me. “Make sure you purchase these items in your sizes and insure that they are in your room at Society House by the beginning of term.”

I opened the folder and spotted several printouts of high end dresses inside. After the fifth one I closed the folder.

“What’s this for?”

He sighed, almost put upon as he glanced out the window.

“In my business, I am invited to interact with people, businesses, and government agencies, in order to promote and sell my wares. During times like these, Carrie’s mother often accompanied me, however since she is no longer with us, I am in need of… what’s the term I’m looking for. Ah yes, arm candy.”

This had to be a joke. He could not be serious.

“Ordinarily, I would have one of my female associates accompany me, but I’ve found that they tend to expect preferential treatment afterward. I’ve had to squelch two sexual harassment suits by them already, and frankly I’m tired of it.”

After finishing off his tumbler of liquor, Mr. Williams refilled the glass and added a couple cubes of ice.

“I want someone that looks the part, appears to be beyond reproach because of her interactions with the community, not to mention your reputation of chastity. You, my dear, are perfect for the role.”

“But…”

“No buts, Kayla. I’m not asking for your permission. You’ll be well compensated for your time and you’ll acquire a nice wardrobe including the jewelry that goes along with it. I’ll also be making regular donations to Society House that I’m sure will be more than adequate for some nice additions.”

Anger and fear were still coursing through me.

“I’m not for sell. I’m not a prostitute.”

He actually laughed at that.

“The naiveté of the younger generation always amuses me. We are all prostitutes in our own way. Have you not sold your masculinity for a college education?”

He chuckled. “I whore myself and my company out whenever I go to one of these distasteful events. So, don’t delude yourself any longer. You’ll participate and in turn I’ll make your dreams come true.”

That got my attention. “What?”

“Your reassignment surgery, Kayla. These things are expensive. You shall be under the care of Carrie’s doctor, and we’ll move things along much speedier than your current schedule. I have many contacts. In fact, you’ll be seeing your new plastic surgeon tomorrow for a little work. We must have you looking your best by July. It’s an election year and the committee chair for the Armed Services holds an annual fundraiser — ie: bribery dinner disguised as a charity event. I’ll need you ready by then.”

Before I could protest any further, Mr. Williams set his drink aside and proceeded to unzip his pants.

“Now, there will be no more protests. You will accept this deal and I won’t hear another word of denial. If you do continue on, I will be forced to be quite unpleasant and you really don’t want to see what can happen when that occurs.”

He undid his buckle and the snap of his pants, opening them up in the process.

“I believe we need a handshake, so to speak, to seal the deal. Don’t be shy, Kayla. This is what women do to get ahead in business. You might as well get used to it.”

~O~

We’d all like to think that we would know what to do in situations like this, but when some ludicrous circumstance like this comes along I ask you to keep an open mind and think of the situational aspect first. It was like an episode of Mad Men. I kept waiting for the director to yell, “Cut!” But that voice never came.

When I got home that afternoon, I ran straight to the toilet and emptied my stomach a number of times until all I was doing was causing myself massive stomach cramps. Even with the acrid taste of stomach acid lingering in my mouth, I could still taste him and what he left behind. I was living a nightmare conceived in times when men in power were certifiable assholes.

Sorry about the language, but I think the situations warrants a foul word or two.

All the time I was servicing Mr. Williams, I fantasized about having something sharp in my purse that I could whip out chop off the thing that was offending me. Sure, I would have eventually been outted to all creation, but at least he wouldn’t be able to put some other innocent girl in a similar situation. Plus, he’d actually have to explain how I got ahold of his equipment in the first place.

So there I was, crying with my head on the edge of the porcelain bowl when Kelsey opened the bathroom door.

“What happened?”

Her voice was edged with seriousness. We were still on non-speaking terms so there wasn’t much compassion behind the attempt to console me. However, it was obvious enough that she knew something out of the ordinary had happened.

“Nothing,” I said and I wiped at my eyes with the heel of my hand and scrambled to my feet.

“Kayla…”

Brushing past her, I ran to my room and tried to close the door, but she was there with her foot in the way.

“Did Brandon do something?” she almost hissed.

“No, leave me alone, Kelsey!”

She pushed against the door and I was sort of surprised that I was losing the battle to her superior strength.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

I pressed my lips together and growled with anger.

“Someone found out about me and they’re blackmailing me, okay!”

“What? Who?”

The cat was out of the bag, so I gave up, backed away from the door and tried to find refuge with the pillow on my bed.

“Carrie’s dad.”

Kelsey opened the door, but didn’t enter my bedroom.

“Who’s Carrie?”

“Ugh! A girl at Society House. Her dad’s some big defense contractor and if I don’t go to these stupid parties and hang on his arm like a stupid airhead then he’s going to out me big time.”

She gave me an odd look like she wasn’t understanding something. “Parties? That’s it?”

I bent over and shoved my face in my pillow.

“And blowjobs… I had to…” My stomach heaved at the brief flashback of the interior of the limo, but nothing came out.

The mattress shifted beside me and Kelsey’s arm wrapped around my shoulder. She pulled me to her when I couldn’t hold it in any longer and started bawling.

“Shhh…. It’ll be okay.”

“No…” I sobbed. “It won’t.”

She kissed me on the top of my head and rocked me for a few moments. “You trust me. Nobody treats my little sister like this and gets away with it.”

I pulled the pillow away and looked up at her. Fierce determination was on her face. “Really?”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Now, tell me everything, from the beginning.”

TBC...