"Stop!" I told her. "It's not funny any more. I never said I wanted to be a girl! Or even pretend to be a girl!"

"Trust me, Marcie-Mark," Jane told me. "I'm your responsible adult. You're in my care. And I'm telling you, this will be good for you. You'll like it. You'll learn all kinds of useful things about girls, and you even can write a book about it when you're older.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head, I was so surprised and shocked.

"You could stay Marcie for the rest of the term," Jane said, "and then go back to being Mark when you move East."

Denise looked at me with a kind of neutral smile. She glanced at Jane, then turned away to look out the front window.

"Bu– wha– I... you sa– ha," I spluttered.

"Look," Jane told me, "I said before: you made a big splash today. You've already started making friends with students and teachers. And...," she said, pausing dramatically, "you like the clothes!"

"I do not!" I said.

"Do too!" she countered. "You've been home for two hours, but you haven't gone to change. You haven't even said you want to change. You like those clothes!"

"They do look good on you," Denise said quietly. "But don't worry, Mark. Jane's just teasing you. *I* was just teasing you. She knows it would never work."

"Never work!? Of course it would work!" Jane countered. "Everyone believed it today."

Denise huffed impatiently, and turned to face Jane. "One day! It worked for one day! What about the rest of the semester? You don't think the other kids will have time to take a closer look, to get to know him better? You don't think that he — or you! — would slip up? And what about gym? What about bathrooms?"

Jane waved her hand. "In the bathroom, he'll just have to remember to sit down and not stare. For gym, I think I can get a doctor's note."

"So he won't take gym?" Denise asked.

"No, so he can shower and change by himself," she replied. "I'm sure I can find a doctor who'll do me a favor. It's just a note, anyway. I just have to think of the right condition, but that shouldn't be a problem."

Denise studied my face for a few moments. I shook my head no, and she smiled encouragingly.

Jane went on, "And for the paperwork... you can't tell me that it would be hard to finagle that. You're the woman on the inside, you can do whatever you like with the records."

"No," Denise countered. "I can't. And even if I switched Mark for Marcie..." she fell silent, thinking. "You know, it actually wouldn't be very hard. In fact, it would be easy: If this is only going to last a semester or less, I could do it. I could leave Mark's record in the system, and set it inactive, so no one will see it. I'd copy all his background into a new record for Marcie. Then, when it's time for Mark to move on, I'll just copy Marcie's grades and attendance and notes into Mark's record."

"That's what I said!" Jane asserted.

Denise went on, "The requests for transcripts and records from his new school would come to me anyway, but even if someone else gets it, his record would be there, right next to Marcie's."

"Then it's settled," Jane said, and clapped her hands. Denise giggled.

"And what about me?" I demanded. At this point, I had no idea whether they were teasing or serious. With these two, it was impossible to tell.

Denise caught my worried look and reassured me. "We're just talking," she said. "Don't worry — it's not going to happen. It can't happen. I won't go along with it. AND, your aunt can't make you do it. Remember, Jane is nothing but a tease. She's trying to get a rise out of you."

"No, I'm not," Jane said with a laugh. "It *is* going to happen. And Marcie and I have to do some shopping!"

"Stop!" I told her. "It isn't funny any more. I never said I wanted to be a girl! Or even pretend to be a girl! And I have told you — several times — that I wanted to get out of these clothes!"

"Trust me, Marcie-Mark," Jane told me. "I'm your responsible adult. You're in my care. And I'm telling you, this will be good for you. You'll like it. You'll learn all kinds of useful things about girls, and you even can write a book about it when you're older.

"Now come on," she commanded. "We have to get to the mall. You need at least one outfit for tomorrow, some underwear, and a starter set for boobies."

Denise, who was standing behind Jane, rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. She twirled her finger near her ear and pointed at Jane, meaning, She's crazy. To me she mouthed the words Don't worry, but aloud she asked, "Can I come? I need to get out, and I have nothing to eat here. We can have dinner at the food court in the mall."

While Denise got ready, Jane went into the backyard to make a phone call. She claimed the signal was better, but I didn't believe her. I paced back and forth, thinking. Denise had assured me that Jane was only teasing. But there was no way I could be sure of that, so I had to be ready to put up a serious fight. In any case, one thing was certain: the longer this went on, the harder it would be to stop. However, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to put my foot down by myself. It seemed like Denise had my back, but would she stand up to my aunt? She seemed responsible, practical, and realistic. Thank God she was coming along with us to the mall: I needed all the help I could get.

Whatever happened next, I needed to flat-out refuse anything that pulled me in the girl direction. That included changing my clothes before we left for the mall.

And then it hit me: I could pull my parents in. Even if it meant going to New Jersey before I was ready. It might be a mess, but it would be better than whatever humiliation I'd go through when the kids at school found out that I'm not a girl.

So when Aunt Jane came back in, I asked if I could use her phone. She handed it to me.

Once I had the phone in my hand, I told her, "I want to call my parents." Then I realized that I didn't have the number.

"It's in the contacts," she said, and touching the screen without taking it from me, she pulled up the number at Dad's little apartment. It rang for a while, but there was no answer.

"It's late afternoon out there," Jane said. "Your father's probably at work or on his way home, and your mother might be out looking at houses. If you call two or three hours from now, you'll get them for sure."

Denise came rushing into the room. "I just saw Alice pulling into her driveway. We've got to go talk to her!" She ran out of the house, leaving the front door open.

"Who's Alice?" I asked.

Aunt Jane's face looked serious for the first time today. She glanced out the window, and in a soft voice said, "She's an old friend... and she's married to your Mr. Bruce."

© 2006, 2007 by Kaleigh Way