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Part 3

Never expect a happy ending, but allow yourself to be surprised by one. My reading teacher, Mrs. Fisher, said that once. I never knew if it was a quote, or simply her own words of wisdom. She was, after all, an older, and wiser, gray-haired woman. So I always figured it to slightly lean in her direction. Though I never cared to look it up, I've always found the phrase to be quite accurate during certain phases of my life.

Perhaps that's what got me through a lot of the bad times in life. I never expected things to go my way all of the time, or even most of the time. Those times that things turned out all right, I allowed myself to be surprised by them. However, I never expected someone to ride in on a white horse and save me. Though it surprised me to know that a few people were willing to try.

I still didn't know what to expect from Tom. The shopping trip actually went off without a hitch, other than the small debates with my mother about style. We did have a bit of a problem matching shoes with the dress I got, but that eventually worked itself out as well. Tom didn't even mention an ill word about me when he recalled his talk with Jack. It all seemed too good to be true, and I had taken it all with a grain of salt.

At home, things seemed pretty normal. I expected Tom to overcompensate somehow with my mother, but things went back to the way they were before he stormed out. He wasn't extra lovey-dovey with her, and he certainly wasn't trying to act like his absence meant something more than it did. For some reason I kept waiting on the edge of my seat to see if the old Tom burst out of the new Tom's chest, or if the aliens brought back the right Tom. Everything seemed in place, but yet something still didn't feel right.

There were a lot of questions, in my mind, that seemed to have no real answers. One of the most pressing questions seemed to be if Tom was telling the truth or not. If his son had indeed committed suicide over Tom's oppression of his sexuality, then how had Tom come out of that fire unscathed? How could he just start all over again and be fine with it all? How could he be fit to be a parent again?

Granted my gender issues weren't evident when he first came into our lives, but why would my mother allow him to take care of those issues? The only reasonable answer I could think of, was that my mother strongly believed in second chances. Perhaps she saw it as a way for Tom to gain redemption somehow. I personally believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt. However, Tom had already proven himself doubtful on several occasions. I was finding it extremely hard to trust the guy again.

Some time after dinner, that same night, he had a long talk with Justin downstairs. A slight case of paranoia set in, when I thought he was trying to turn my family against me. But things just went back to normal. Tom seemed to be practicing more restraint with his temper, and less restraint with what Justin and I did. Maybe he went to an anger management class or something. At any rate, something seemed totally different about him.

For the next two days, Tom seemed himself in every respect. Except he did seem a whole lot nicer, and in a better mood than usual. Perhaps it had something to do with that big business venture he was working on. Maybe it had the potential to make him rich. I had no way of knowing, as Tom rarely discussed his job with me or Justin. Tom just seemed like a nicer person in general. He even encouraged me seeing my first ballet with Tawny, which I found completely odd.

I started that little afternoon adventure probably a little too early in the day. To be honest, I was a complete nervous wreck. I did not sleep well, and all I could think about was being alone with Tawny that afternoon. Of course, we wouldn't be completely alone, but I seriously doubted her parents would pay much attention to us. The strangest part was not knowing how Tawny felt about me, and myself not even knowing completely how I felt about her.

This day just seemed way too special, and I did not want to be the one that didn't put any effort into it. After fixing myself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I locked myself away in the bathroom. I thought a nice hot shower would relieve some of the nervous tension I felt, but it didn't leave a dent in it. There was hardly anything to shave, but I ran a razor over my legs for reasons I can't explain. Then I spent some time really making sure every inch of my body was clean.

I had been having serious doubts about going tonight as a girl. It seemed like I had to, because I had already agreed to do it. The strange thing was that I had no second-guesses about agreeing to it, yet all the doubts came pouring in afterwards. As I was patting myself dry, I stared into the bathroom mirror. I didn't really want to go through with this, but I figured if I was going to do it, I would go all the way. My hand reached out for the peppermint-scented body lotion. It was bought solely for this occasion.

I think what drove me crazy the most was the waiting. From the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, up until the moment Tawny arrived to get me, most of my time was spent sitting and waiting. I spent the first hour or so doing my nails up perfectly in a shiny, rich red. My fingers and toes looked like they were all adorned with dark, sparkling rubies. I tried to write. I tried to read. For the next few hours I tried to do anything to get my mind off of the afternoon ahead.

Eventually I looked up at the clock and figured I could get ready. That realization brought back more of the nervous tension I had been feeling all morning. Back in the bathroom, I had called out for my mother's assistance more times than I could count. She helped me with my hair, putting it all into tight fluffy curls. I begged for her to help me with my makeup. She helped me achieve a soft, youthful glow, with just a touch of maturity.

I probably called for her to help about a hundred times. I'm sure I would've screwed things up without her help. She cheerfully took it all in stride, and I knew she had better things to do. It wasn't like she was getting any help in the kitchen, as she slaved over our Christmas Eve dinner. I don't even remember if I thanked her for everything, but I hope I did. This entire week I had acted like a complete basket case, and had probably driven her close to the edge of insanity a few times.

I must have gotten everything situated in the bathroom, because I soon found myself back in my room; fretting over every little detail about my attire. The dress, for this special occasion, had been the source of an afternoon full of debate and near congressional decision making. My mother had simply gone into shock that day; possibly due to the suggestion coming from Tom. She picked out the most ridiculous dresses I had ever seen.

For some weird reason, it was like my mother had regressed my age in her own mind, and wanted to dress me up for a tea party. Her choices in dresses were borderline embarrassment. From the very start, she became obsessed with bows and ribbons. I don't even think the looks I gave her registered. It took me about an hour just to get her off of the five-year-old-dress-party theme. The next hour ended up being spent on inner debates of cost versus practicality.

That is until I saw the perfect dress. We had just come out of our fifth store, when my eyes locked onto a dress in another store's window. It had everything I imagined my new dress would have. Like a picture taken right out of my head, the dress greeted me; ironically on a mannequin who held her arms wide open. I think I floated to the store window. The dress, the mannequin; they both beckoned me forward. I had to see it close up.

As I approached the store window, I marveled at the dress' simplicity, and form. It seemed perfect for the occasion. The boat neck stretched firmly, but delicately, to the shoulders, where it slithered out to the mannequin's wrists. While the sleeves were slightly loose and draped, the body of the dress hugged the mannequin like a bodysuit. Until it met the skirt, which, like the sleeves, subtly flared and draped out to dance upon her knees.

This dress had everything I wanted. It was even wine colored, as opposed to all of the laser red dresses we had been looking at. I wanted red for the seasonal occasion, but didn't want much attention from it. Somehow we lost Tom at yet another gadget store. My mother caught up to me, however. She looked the dress over, and then looked at me. As if reading my mind somehow, she knew that I wouldn't leave the mall without the dress in the window.

"Come on," she said with a smile. "Let's see if they have one in your size."

With those words, we had embarked on a quest to get the perfect dress. I smiled as I looked over it, now safe and sound in my bedroom. The perfect dress was mine, and had even been on sale. This made it even more perfect for everyone else. Of course, it set in motion another dilemma, which took us through the rest of the afternoon. The only drawback to finding the perfect dress, was finding the perfect shoes to go with it.

It wasn't due to lack of variety that we had a hard time finding shoes to match the dress. The most common problem we ran into, was that we couldn't find any in my size. Most of the ones we found, out of the ones that I wouldn't twist my ankle in, were clearance items. My mother seemed to think we hit some glass ceiling on the dress, and had to purely settle on clearance shoes. In all honesty, I personally would have attributed it to the fact that I'd gone up half a shoe size almost overnight.

Either way, we did eventually have to settle on clearance shoes. Somehow, in the fight for sales wrapped in holiday bliss, I actually managed to find the perfect pair. They were wine colored, and matched my dress as if they were made for each other. Though the two inch heels worried me a little in the winter time, I imagined the weather wouldn't change much before the big day. I could easily walk in them. They fit, and the crushed velvet on them was absolutely too good to pass up.

I casually traipsed around my room, running my fingers over the dress as I passed it. Another glance at the clock told me I could get ready, but I'd be waiting for a little while afterwards. I decided to dress myself anyway. Maybe it would calm the butterflies practicing flight maneuvers in my stomach. As I reached for the newly bought pair of white tights, my mind raced through the possibilities this evening might hold.

So the dressing up part of the afternoon wasn't terribly exciting. It also didn't last as long as I had hoped. Looking at the clock I discovered I still had about a half hour to burn. I eased into the chair at my desk, and thoughtfully gazed out the window. Seconds ticked by on the imaginary clock I had conjured in my head. Eventually a blue midsized van made it's way up our street, and slowly turned into the driveway.

"They're here," I shouted, as I exited my room.

"Do you have your coat?" my mother asked from the kitchen.

"Yes," I said, rushing down the hallway.

My mother intercepted me before I could get to the stairs. "Do you have Tawny's gift?"

"Yes," I said, trying to squeeze by her. "It's in my coat."

She carefully looked me over, a big smile spreading across her lips. "You look really nice," she finally said.

"I have to go," I said. "I don't want her to have to walk to the door." Just as I said this, the doorbell rang. "Well too late for that I guess."

My mother stood at the top of the stairs, as I carefully made my way down them. I checked myself over in the mirror next to the entryway door, and then reached for the doorknob. Surprisingly, it wasn't Tawny's face that greeted me. As I swung the door open, my eyes beheld a very nice looking young man. His black hair appeared well-groomed, combed over to one side, and his smile was like it came straight from a Crest advertisement.

"Hello?" I managed to squeak out.

"Howdy miss," the man said, in a deep southern voice. "My name is Trevor James. I'm sorry to bother ya'll today, but I'm looking for a Mister Tom Walker. Is he by any chance available?"

I subconsciously nodded, as I stared into the man's bright blue eyes.

"He's just in the dining room," my mother said from atop the stairs. "I'll run and fetch him."

"Much obliged," Trevor said.

"Would you like to step inside?" I asked, noticing the man shivering a bit.

"Thank you…" Trevor held his hand out, and looked at me expectantly.

"Bailey," I blurted out, suddenly catching on. I extended my hand toward his.

Trevor gently took my hand, and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Bailey," he said, as he came through the doorway. "Do you usually dress up this nicely for Christmas Eve?"

"I'm actually just on my way out," I said, retracting my hand. "To the ballet," I added.

"Oh, how splendid," Trevor said. "You have a lovely time Miss Bailey. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"The same," I said, trying hard not to blush over his southern hospitality.

"Mister James," Tom said from the top of the stairs. "Come in. Come in."

"Please…" Trevor said, as he walked up the stairs. "Just Trevor."

"I see you've met Bailey," Tom said, smiling at me and waving goodbye.

"And your lovely wife," Trevor said.

"Yes… Susan," Tom said, taking Trevor's hand at the top of the stairs. "I have a small office through the dining room. We can talk there."

I simply shook my head in wonder as they disappeared around the corner. "Who the…"

"Bailey!"

Tawny's voice made me nearly jump out of my skin. I turned to look at her, or rather, I turned to see the most beautiful version of Tawny I'd ever seen. Tawny somehow managed to hide the body of a gymnast beneath everyday clothes. Her velour dress hugged her upper body, much like my own dress, but I had nowhere near the definition her body had. The stunning green matched her emerald eyes, and made them sparkle.

The skirt of her dress brushed atop her knees, where it met a pair of shapely, fit legs encased in nude pantyhose. I followed the perfect curvature of her legs down to her emerald green pumps. Then my eyes took it all in again in reverse. They moved up her toned legs, past her skirt, settled on her defined stomach for a moment, and then up some more. Eventually I met Tawny's amazing eyes; the same ones I had spent a month emphasizing in an art project.

"You look amazing," I said, catching her cheeks turn a faint rosy red.

"Thanks," Tawny said, still looking me over. "You look fantastic. I mean, you really look good in red."

"Thank you," I mumbled. Her eyes met mine, and I could feel my own blush burning away on my face. "I…" My hands fumbled inside of my coat. "I got you a present," I managed to stammer out. "It's not much…"

"I got you something too," Tawny said, taking the present in one hand, and wrapping her other hand around mine. "It's in the van though." She smiled at me. "I'll give it to you after the ballet."

"Well…" I glanced back and forth from the present to her eyes. "You can open mine now."

Tawny continued to smile, as she gently took the package in her hands. I glanced out the storm door as she rustled the bow. Once the paper started tearing, I turned my head to focus on the present. Nervous flutters came back all of a sudden. She peeled the paper away.

"Oh neat!" Tawny exclaimed as she pulled the rest of the wrapping away. "A calligraphy set. I've always wanted to try this."

"I figured… you being artistic and all…"

"I love it!" she said. She started flipping the box around, looking at it from every angle. "This is really nice."

"I hope you can have some fun with it," I said, catching her smile rising to greet me.

"I'm gonna learn how to do this," Tawny said, "and then I'm going to write you a thank you letter with it."

I smiled back at her. "That sounds like a plan. I'm glad you like it."

"I do," she said, looking down at it again. "Oh, it's even got the old-fashioned paper to write on."

"With envelopes, and stuff to do wax seals with," I said, pointing to it on the box. "I got one with a T for the stamp."

"Oh cool!" Tawny said. "Like old letters." She looked up at me with a big smile. "Thanks, Bailey!"

She suddenly stepped forward and flung her arms around me. I was unprepared and nearly knocked backwards by her embrace. Her cold cheek rested against mine. Whatever she wore, be it perfume, or body lotion, smelled absolutely amazing. Just as I got my arms to work, to embrace her in return, Tawny pulled away from me. She looked the present over one more time, and then looked me in the eye.

"We better get going," she said, still smiling. She reached out and stopped me from putting my coat on. "Trust me. You won't need that." She glanced out at the van. "It's like a hundred degrees in there."

"Okay," I said, with a slight laugh. "Mom," I shouted up the stairs. She eventually came through the kitchen door. "We're leaving now."

"Alright," my mother said, smiling down on us. "You kids have fun. You both look very pretty."

"Thank you, Misses Walker," Tawny said.

My face must have matched the color of my dress, as I turned to open the storm door. At least outside I could blame it on the cold. Tawny followed me out after saying her goodbyes. My mother waved one last time, as I pulled the front door closed. I let Tawny descend the stairs first. In all honesty, I wanted to catch a glimpse of her in this fantastic outfit from behind.

I couldn't believe this was Tawny. In all of the time I knew her, I had taken only a slight interest in her physique. I knew she had nice legs, at least from the knees down, but the rest had always been covered up. Beneath baggy jeans and sweatshirts, Tawny hid an absolutely rock hard body. How in the world had I not noticed this before? I tried to think back, and realized I had never really seen her body. Maybe I just never noticed her before now.

"Do you do gymnastics?" I blurted out, letting curiosity get the better of me.

"Yes…" Tawny stopped and looked back at me. "I thought you knew that."

I shook my head, still looking at her midsection. "It's just…" My eyes shot up to meet hers. "You never told me."

"I swear I did," Tawny said with a giggle. "What brought that up anyway?"

"You have a fantastic body," I said. "Like the gymnasts in the Olympics."

Tawny shrugged. "I guess…" She turned to make her way to the van again. "I mean, I work out for it, but I wouldn't say I'm that caliber."

"What caliber would you say you are?" I asked, quickly catching up with her.

"I just do it for fun," Tawny said. "Something I enjoy." She turned to me; her hand resting on the door handle. "I like to workout too."

"I'm already learning today," I said, as she slid the side door open.

"And the afternoon's just starting," Tawny said, smiling.

After a brief introduction of myself to Tawny's parents, the next several minutes hung silently, and uncomfortably stale in the air of their minivan. The local performing arts center happened to be a good half hour away, and I wasn't used to riding for two minutes before someone in my family had to complain about something. Where Tom would be complaining about wasting gas at red lights, Tawny's father casually stopped and waited patiently without a word. It seemed unreal, like everyone switched to their "best behavior" mode.

"You see what Bailey got me?" Tawny asked, breaking the silence. She leaned forward with my gift to show her mother.

"That's really nice," her mother said, taking it from her. "Didn't you say you wanted to try calligraphy?"

"Yeah," Tawny said, glancing back at me while rolling her eyes over her mother's comment. "It even has the old paper and stuff."

"So Bailey…" Tawny's father said over them. "Are you into art as well?"

"More of a hobby," I said. "I like music though."

He glanced into the rearview mirror and nodded. "Well… plenty of music tonight."

"This is my first ballet," I said.

"Well hopefully you'll enjoy it," her father said. "It's not for everyone, but you might like it."

The look he gave me, made me think that maybe he didn't enjoy it that much. His eyes shifted back to driving, and Tawny shifted back into her seat. Her mother handed the present back to her.

"That's a very nice gift, Bailey," she said. "Have you been enjoying your time off from school?"

"It's been a little boring actually," I said.

"Oh?"

"I miss my friends at school."

"Well enjoy the break while it lasts," she said with a slight laugh. "It doesn't last long."

"Read any good books lately?" Tawny's father asked.

"Dad…" Tawny said with a groan.

"What?" he asked. "You said she likes to read."

"I do," I said, putting my hand on Tawny's arm. "I actually just got a book from my friend Nathan, that I've been reading."

"Nathan huh?" her mother asked.

"One of my brother's friends," I said. "He lives down the street."

"Is he cute?" she asked.

"Mom!" Tawny blurted out.

"Well I'm sorry," her mother said. "I don't mean to embarrass you, Bailey."

"You're not embarrassing me," I said, with a bit of nervous laughter. "He's actually pretty cute."

Tawny's head turned slowly. She had a look of shock across her face, as she mouthed the word, "Really?"

I shrugged, with my own look that said, "I don't know. I'm just making conversation."

"Is he an older boy?" her mother asked, continuing her peaceful interrogation.

"He's a freshman in high school," I said. "So not that much older."

"I see," her mother said.

Tawny gently squeezed my thigh, garnering my attention. "You never told me you were into Nathan." She stared me down with a smug grin.

"Well he's nice and all," I said.

"Nice and cute?" she asked.

"Well he's not ugly, that's for sure."

"Does he like you?" Tawny asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I've gone over to his house a few times."

"With or without your brother?" Tawny asked.

"Without…"

"Better be careful," her mother said, chuckling. "He might ask you out one of these days."

"Oh, I don't think…"

My words and thoughts trailed off. Casual chitchat might have just brought up the fact that a boy was into me; more than I knew already. Tawny continued to look me over with a smile and a splash of curiosity. I left out the part about sleeping over at Nathan's house. That would have seemed too weird with Tawny's parents listening. As it stood, they thought I was a girl, and I was gushing about being around a boy. That only made it weird for me.

"Leave the poor girl alone," Tawny's father said. "I think you're starting to embarrass her now." He acknowledged me in the rearview mirror, with a look of amused concern.

"So anything else exciting happen over the break?" her mother asked.

"Not really," I said. "Just reading and writing."

"Oh, you're a writer too?" she asked.

"Just in my diary," I said.

"Well who knows?" her mother continued to say. "Maybe you'll write a novel someday."

"I don't know about that," I said, with a chuckle.

Tawny continued to look at me with a sense of curious wonder. "You have a diary?" she asked in mouthed words.

"Don't you?" I mouthed back at her.

"Well yeah…" she mouthed, and then leaned forward to whisper in my ear. "But I'm a girl."

She leaned back. A huge smile was spread across her lips. I could still feel her warmth, or maybe that was the immense heat inside the van. Either way, it decided to linger, and sent a shiver up my spine. Tawny continued to smile, and simply shook her head at me.

"Maybe I've got a bit to learn too," she mumbled.

"Tawny's been working on some secret art project since November," her mother blurted out. "Won't tell us what it is, or when she'll have it finished. It's a big mystery around our house."

"Mom…" Tawny said, again with exasperation.

"Sorry," she said. "You just haven't said much since you got in the van."

"Well maybe there isn't much to say," Tawny said, defiantly.

"What are you working on?" I asked.

"I… can't say," Tawny mumbled, sinking back into her seat.

"Won't even tell her friends," her mother said, laughing a bit.

I turned to a now sulking Tawny. "Have you talked to Megan lately?" I asked.

"Are we there yet?" Tawny asked.

"Oh stop that," her mother said. "You're not five."

Tawny turned to me. I was expecting her to give an answer about Megan, as I was honestly wondering how she was doing. Instead, Tawny just smiled at me. "I think you're really going to like this ballet," she said.

And with that, our somewhat eventful journey became rather uneventful. The last half of it turned into listening in on random chitchat between her parents. I started to wonder if something happened between Tawny and Megan. She had avoided that question like it was her death. I really hoped nothing had happened. They both seemed really good together. Not only that, but some of their better qualities were starting to rub off on each other.

"We're here," Tawny's father said, after a few more minutes. "I'll let you ladies out, and then find a place to park."

This brought a whole slew of emotions to my mind. At first I realized that I was one of the ladies he referred to. Then I realized I had never been dropped off at the door before. Even when Tom took me to the store, and had me run in for something, he had always parked. It was his way of weeding out laziness. Never before had I been treated with this degree of courtesy.

The cold air whipped around my legs the moment I stepped out of the van. If I hadn't worn tights, I definitely would have frozen my legs off in mid step. In contrast, the heat inside wrapped around my legs like a warm hug. The heat felt amazing, even when I peeled my coat off. We stood in the foyer for several minutes after being dropped off. Eventually Tawny's father joined us, and we picked up our tickets on the way in.

The grand curtains hid the stage behind folds of crimson red, trimmed with gold. For a moment I watched people shuffle about, trying to find their seats in the organized chaos. Our seats were about halfway up the auditorium, behind a half wall dividing the major aisle. I remembered coming here before, with my mother and brother, for some town hall meeting. Justin and I competed in a rousing game of trying to be the first to get our feet up on the top of that half wall. Being a lot younger than him, and quite a bit shorter, I ultimately failed.

Tonight seemed too special to even think about attempting such a childish thing. It felt weird to actually think that I had grown up at the age of twelve. Maybe it was the event, or maybe the way I was dressed, but for some reason doing something so "boyish" disgusted me. I was prepared to act the part of a lady, and I was dressed to that end. Tawny, no doubt, carried the same sentiment; as she gracefully eased into the chair next to me. Due to an issue with the tickets, her parents had to sit behind us; which left Tawny and I pretty much alone.

Nerves and anxiety were welling up in me like steam in a locomotive. I fumbled with the program in my hands. Tawny looked and smelled so good, that I already felt unfaithful to Tiffany. I had serious doubts kissing her on Halloween, but everyone insisted on an even exchange. Only now, after the fact, did I wish that I never partook in the little kissing party. We all said back then that it wouldn't mean anything. Now I had to pretend that it didn't mean anything.

"Clara is supposed to be really good this year," Tawny casually whispered into my ear.

The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. I nearly jumped from my seat, but somehow managed to stay settled. "Who?" I whispered back nervously.

"Clara," Tawny whispered, pointing to the character's name in the program. "She's the main girl."

"Oh…" I said quietly.

I wasn't staring at the name though. I was staring at Tawny's perfectly manicured finger. It seemed she put as much effort into this afternoon as I had. Tawny dressed the part, did her hair and nails, and had added a touch of makeup to the mix. I think she even wore perfume. Tawny just wasn't the type to wear perfume. So different was she, that it made me nervous just being around her this way. This Tawny was too feminine; too intoxicating.

Tawny leaned in even closer, to where our heads were nearly side-by-side. I could even feel our meticulously groomed hairdos touching. Her lips were never further than a few inches from my ear, as she went through the program with me. I watched as her pristine fingernails went from name to name. She explained the basic story to me, in not so many words, claiming I just had to see some of it. Her hand grazed mine, where it held the program, and I felt her lips touch my cheek.

"I'm glad you came tonight," Tawny whispered. That's when I felt Tawny's lips press against my cheek. They were only there for a moment, but they left a lasting feeling with her gentle kiss. "I hope you have a good time," she whispered.

The lights flickered on and off as Tawny moved away. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, while people hurried to their seats. The orchestra began their warm up. The crowds' voices fell to whispers, and then faded completely; save for a few coughs. Soon the lights were dimming, and the subtle tap of the conductor's baton commanded silence from the orchestra and audience alike. All was quiet in the auditorium.

Out of the stillness, a song arose from the orchestra. The heavy crimson curtains slowly gave way. The spotlight fell on an older gentleman, carefully wrapping a toy in his shop. Another man leapt to his side with all the reflexes of a cat on the prowl. So began the story of which I never knew I would be waiting to see. Next to me was the person I never knew I would be seeing the story with. And on stage unfolded a spectacle I never thought I'd be willing to behold.

The scene cut away to a party, the guests all dancing and celebrating around a festive tree. On stage, the dancers pranced about like gazelles; a flourish of strength and grace. I had almost lost myself in the music and beauty, when I felt Tawny lean into me. Her arm now pressed against mine, and I felt nervous all over again. However, she did not encroach upon my space further, and I soon found myself lost in the play once more.

I eventually picked out who Tawny was talking about before. The young Clara moved so elegantly, that I couldn't help focusing on her. Having never seen the ballet before, or any ballet for that matter, I really had no idea what was going on. So I tried to manage one character. Clara seemed easy enough to follow, being the only person on stage wearing an ivory dress with pale blue ribbons. It also didn't hurt that she was absolutely stunning.

Tawny remained close enough that I could feel her warm body. I continued to watch the elegant Clara glide around the stage. It amazed me how fast and smoothly she could fly from one place to the next. The dancing on stage blended with the music, and Tawny's warm arm against mine sent another shiver down my spine. Before I knew it, Clara's godfather had arrived, and was entertaining the audiences both on stage and off with his dancing dolls.

As I assessed the situation, I realized I was actually having a good time. Perhaps six months ago I would have sneered and balked at an invite to the ballet. I don't even think I would have gone through with it with Tiffany, even if she was the one performing. In fact, I didn't even know she did ballet until Tawny mentioned it. I watched the performance for a bit, while my curiosity built up inside of me.

"Did you do ballet with Tiffany?" I asked, in a faint whisper in Tawny's ear.

I turned back to look at the stage as Tawny turned to me. "That's where we met," Tawny whispered. Her hot breath still made me shiver inside. "I didn't stick with it as long as her though." She held off until the music started to crescendo. "I'm just not the ballet type."

For some reason I felt this warranted some kind of a response, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what a "ballet type" was, or even meant. Even if it meant one thing to me, it could mean a totally different thing to Tawny. So instead of responding, I simply went back to watching the ballet. I watched Clara's godfather present her with the nutcracker, and a little bit later watched her brother break it.

There were a ton of questions floating around in my head, but for the next several minutes I pushed them to the back. The party on stage had ended, and Clara had come back downstairs to find her nutcracker. Tawny sat in silence next to me. I figured it just wasn't the right moment to talk with her about life. Before long, Clara was off in a dream world, and I was hoping I would wake up from mine.

It was hard fighting the urge to talk to her. Even during the brief intermission, I decided to talk mostly about the performance. I didn't want to say anything stupid to ruin the afternoon, so I kept Tawny busy by asking her more about ballet in general. She explained the show, up to that point, in a little more detail. To be honest, I was quite grateful for this, as I had found some of it a bit confusing.

I didn't expect to instantly "get" ballet, this being my first time and all, but I ended up liking what I saw. Having Tawny explain the story in a little more detail helped me a lot more than had I been watching it by myself. I also learned a little bit about ballet from her that night. Tawny explained what it meant to be en Pointe. Whether or not I grasped it at all, she explained a few other things to me. Terms like pirouette, grand jete, sissonne, attitude and battement seemed to fly right over my head.

To be honest, most of what Tawny talked about went completely over my head. It didn't seem to matter. I was having fun just being there in the moment; finding not only a new experience, but also a different side of Tawny as well. Basically I had enjoyed listening to her talk, more than understanding the subject. I really didn't want the afternoon to end. Perhaps that's why I felt such disappointment when the performance eventually came to an end.

Tawny and I kept glancing at each other with smiles while we applauded the performers. They came out to bow and curtsy. The applause seemed to get even louder, when Clara and the prince bowed together. Eventually the thunderous applause trickled to nothing, and was replaced by the mass shuffling for coats. I helped Tawny put her coat on, and she in turn helped me with mine.

"So what did you think?" Tawny's father asked.

"I actually liked it," I said. "It was different, but in a good way."

"Well good then," he said. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"I know you have to get home, Bailey," Tawny's mother said, "but would you girls like to stop for some hot chocolate?"

I glanced at Tawny. She nodded to me with a tremendous smile on her face. I returned the smile and turned back to her mother. "I think I have time for that," I said.

"Splendid," her mother said. "We can stop by that new Starbucks that just opened."

"We ready?" Tawny's father asked, turning to us with his coat in hand.

After each of us nodded, the four of us slowly made our way out of the auditorium. Again, Tawny's father offered to fetch the van while we waited in the foyer. And again, I wasn't used to this kind of treatment. I almost felt like royalty for the evening. Tawny slipped her arm around mine as we walked to the foyer. Her parents separated, as her mother made her way to a window, and her father stepped out to brave it in the cold winter air.

"Did you really like it?" Tawny asked, below the mumbling crowd.

"I honestly did," I said. "I mean, I didn't understand probably half of it, but I liked the music and the dancing."

"You liked the girls in tights," Tawny teased.

"Well…" I shrugged innocently, looking around us. "I did like it for different reasons."

"Would you want to see another one?"

"I'd be willing," I said.

"Wow…" Tawny tilted her head to the side. "Really?"

"You seem surprised."

"Well… I mean, that's great if you like it," she said. "I can't ever get anyone to go with me."

"Wait…" I raised my eyebrow. "You said you didn't like it."

"Oh, Bailey…" She smiled at me. "You have a lot to learn about…" She suddenly stopped herself. "My likes and dislikes," she finally added.

"I'm definitely interested in learning more about you," I said, with my own smile.

"Maybe we can do something about that then," Tawny said, now looking at me more seriously. "We should hang out more."

"We should," I said, matter-of-factly.

Tawny glanced up for a moment. "My mom's waving for us to go," she said.

Back in Tawny's family van, everyone was raving about the ballet. That is, everyone was raving except for Tawny's father. I had pegged him for someone that took very little interest in ballet in general. For all intents and purposes, he was probably only making sure his family had a good time tonight. The poor guy had probably been bored out of his mind. At least he got to enjoy women in tights; if that was his thing.

I honestly had lost all track of time inside the auditorium. The sun had already started setting, making the cloudy sky burst with color. It had actually turned out to be a good day. There were still issues at home I had to deal with, but they could wait until tomorrow. Tawny kept her arm wrapped around mine, as we talked about the performance. The van had just started to warm up by the time we pulled into the parking lot of Starbucks.

"Let's go in," Tawny's father said, looking at the drive thru line. He turned to his wife. "It'll give them a little more time to hang out."

"You just don't want to sit in that line," she said, chuckling.

The four of us spilled out of the van, and quickly made our way inside. It seemed small and stuffy inside, but that didn't seem to bother us all that much. Tawny's father ordered for us, after a bit of debate with her mother. They eventually got their two caffeinated whatevers, and we got our hot chocolates. It felt good just holding the cup in my cold hands.

I turned, ready to follow her parents to a table, but Tawny quickly pulled me in the opposite direction. I didn't realize it, until that moment, that this was her father's clever ploy to let us get away from the adults for awhile. Her parents even expected it, not spending a second convincing us to sit with them. They slipped into a booth at the front of the store, while we slipped into a booth at the back. We had a clear view of each other, but also had our privacy.

"So…" Tawny said.

I took a sip of the hot chocolate. "What?"

"What do you want to know?"

"About what?" I asked, shaking my head.

"About me, silly," Tawny said.

"Oh…" I set the cup on the table, and looked at it for a moment. "How…" I looked up into Tawny's expecting eyes. "All that stuff you said about not liking ballet… is that true?"

"I never said I don't like ballet," Tawny said, pausing to sip on her own hot chocolate. "I just said I get tired of the same one every year."

"You don't like the Nutcracker?"

"It's okay," Tawny said, kind of giving a half shrug. "I mean, it's a great one to get people interested in ballet, but…" She paused to take another sip of her beverage. "Well it's like watching a rerun too many times."

"I see," I said, taking a sip of my own drink. "How long have you been into ballet?"

"I've enjoyed watching it since I was six," Tawny said, "but didn't like doing it for very long." She sipped on her drink. "I only took classes for two years from age eight."

"Didn't like it?" I asked, sipping on my drink.

"I just wasn't the ballet type," she said.

"What does that even mean?" I asked.

Tawny smiled at me for a moment. "Ballet's all about grace with power." She paused to take a sip of hot chocolate. "Let's just say I wasn't that great at the grace part."

"But you still liked it?"

"I loved it at first," she said, "but the aspects I loved about it, led to something I love even more."

"Gymnastics?"

Tawny nodded. "More power and coordination, than grace," she said with a smile. "And there's a little bit of dance mixed in for good measure, but it all doesn't revolve around dancing with music."

"Can I watch you sometime?" I asked.

"Really!?" Tawny asked, nearly choking on her drink.

"Unless you don't want me to," I said.

"No," Tawny said. "I mean, I'd be thrilled, if you're interested. Just nobody has ever been that interested before."

"Well… I never knew you were into it," I said.

"That's because I don't talk about it much," Tawny said. "Like I said before, it's just something I enjoy. I'm not the world's best or anything. I'm not even on a competitive team or anything."

"I'd like to see anyway."

Tawny studied me for a moment. She sipped on her hot chocolate. "You can come watch me work out if you'd like," she finally said.

"Would it make you nervous?"

"Why would it make me nervous?" Tawny asked.

"I don't know. Having some boy watching you."

Tawny giggled. "Don't be silly," she said. "You're not a boy."

"Oh, so it's like that huh?" I asked, feigning anger.

"Yep," Tawny said. She leaned forward and looked into my eyes. "Just… like… that."

"You know…" I said, leaning forward a bit myself. "The more I learn about you, the more I find you fascinating."

"You're quite fascinating yourself," Tawny said, her eyes still locked on mine.

"I don't know about that," I said, looking down at my hot chocolate. "I can be rather boring."

"On the contrary," Tawny said. "You're way more interesting than anyone else I know."

"Even Megan?" I asked, slowly looking up from my drink.

Tawny leaned back when I mentioned Megan. She looked at me for a little bit longer, and then glanced out the window. When she glanced back at me, I could tell something was wrong. Tawny bit her lower lip. Then she quickly checked to see where her parents were, before leaning back towards me.

"Can you keep a secret?" Tawny asked.

"Of course," I said.

"I haven't talked to Megan in about two weeks," Tawny said.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Tawny said. "At least as far as I know she's fine." Her voice grew softer. "The last time I was with her…" She glanced quickly towards her parents. "We fooled around."

"You made out?"

"We almost had sex!" Tawny said harshly.

"Oh, wow! Really?"

"We were making out," Tawny said, "and all of a sudden she was pushing for more and more. By the time I started having second thoughts, Megan had already gotten my jeans halfway down to my knees."

"You didn't want to do it?" I asked.

"Not at all!" Tawny said. She started to cower, as if she was reliving the moment. "I asked her to stop, but she kept pulling at my panties. Almost had them off of me when I started telling her we'd gone far enough."

"I always assumed you two were…" I looked at Tawny, as she started to recoil back into the booth seat. This was not the Tawny I knew at all. Or maybe I never really knew the real Tawny. She looked scared; unsure of herself. "What did you do?"

"I pushed her away," Tawny said. "She tried harder. I pushed her off of me…" She glanced around the store. "She wouldn't stop, so I hit her."

"You hit her!?"

"Not like hit her…" Tawny said. "I didn't punch her, or anything like that." She picked up her hot chocolate. "I slapped her across the face. If anything I was hoping it would bring her back to her senses. But she got mad and left… Without a word. Walked home even."

"That's awful," I said.

"I know," Tawny said, almost sulking. "I shouldn't have slapped her."

"No," I said. "I mean, it's awful she did that to you. You had every right to stop her."

"I just didn't think…" She looked down for a moment. "I thought with someone like her… with her condition… it wouldn't be like a guy."

"What do you mean?"

Tawny looked up into my eyes, with a faint smile. "I thought it would be more gentle. Like a girl would be. Instead, I got the dick side of her."

This caused me to giggle a little bit. "I'm sorry," I quickly said. "Just the way you said it. I'm sorry."

Tawny smiled at me. "It's okay," she said. "I just want to forget it ever happened. I don't even want to see her again."

"You know…" I put my hand on hers.

"What?" Tawny asked.

"Huh?"

"You were gonna say something," Tawny said.

Her words seemed like a distant echo in a large chasm. As I sat there in Starbucks, with my hand on top of Tawny's, I suddenly had my whole outlook on life crushed in one single moment. My world turned upside down, and took me toppling with it. At that moment, right up at the front of the store, I saw something I dreamed I would never see. I barely recall Tawny's head turning in front of me, for I was so deeply engrossed in the scene at the counter.

A boy I knew, had his hand in the back pocket of a girl I knew. Right where nobody expected them to be, I saw the secret nobody was supposed to see. A blonde headed boy named Vince, cupped the ass of a black haired girl named Tiffany; my Tiffany. And in front of anyone who happened to be looking on, the two of them turned into each other and kissed. Then she giggled, and they kissed again. They ordered drinks, and then she reached up for his chin, and they kissed again.

My heart grew heavy in my chest. My eyes were locked on them, and I don't even remember if I blinked. They stood there, kissing, not caring who would, or could see. Their drinks came; four of them. Two other people knew about this secret affair, and were aiding in it. Vince pulled his hand from Tiffany's pocket, paid for, and carried the drinks out. Tiffany waited a moment longer, until Kate came out of the bathroom to join her sister. They laughed about something, and then they left.

"Bailey?" Tawny's voice still seemed distant. "Bailey? Are you okay?"

I lowered my gaze to look at Tawny.

"Say something," she said.

"Was that… Did I just see that?"

Tawny slowly nodded. I looked down to see she was holding both of my hands firmly. When I looked back up at Tawny, I saw her mouth stood open. She kept looking at me with a strange mixture of concern and horror spread across her face.

"Bailey," she said calmly. "Breathe. Take a deep breath."

Breathing… That seemed like a good plan. I figured I'd give it a try. So I did. I took a long steady breath. Then I took another. And another.

"That's good," Tawny said.

"I'm going after her," I said.

"No you're not," Tawny said.

"I can't just let them walk --"

"Yes," Tawny said. "You're gonna have to right now."

"But they --"

"I know," Tawny said, keeping a calm voice. "Bailey. Honey. Babe. Look at me."

I focused on Tawny. She continued to give me this concerned look.

"Listen," she said. "If you go after her right now. Dressed how you're dressed. Screaming at her in front of the world about how she's your girlfriend and she's a cheating bitch…" She looked me over. "You're gonna have a lot more problems than relationships on your hands."

"I don't --"

"Hey," Tawny said, squeezing my hands. "I'm here with you. I'll help you get through this. Okay?"

I nodded quietly.

"I need you to stay calm," Tawny said. "We'll sit here for a minute longer, and then we'll get you home."

"How could she do this?"

"I don't know," Tawny said. "You're way better than that loser."

"All of her 'I'm a lesbian' crap…" I glanced out the window. "And another boy? He's supposed to be gay…"

"Bailey…" Tawny waited until I looked back at her. "We'll figure it out… together." She quickly let go of my hands.

"You kids ready to go?" her father said, as he walked to the middle of the dining area.

"In a minute," Tawny said, smiling at her father.

"We'll be in the van," he said, as he turned to walk out with his wife.

"Think you can make it home?" Tawny asked.

I nodded, and that's all it took. Tawny made it a point of "being there for me," as she helped me out of the booth. She gave me support as she helped me get my coat on. She even carried the quickly cooling contents of my drink out to the van for me. Her arm snaked tightly around mine as we walked. She helped me into the van. It seemed like yet another out of body experience as we continued our trip back into town; back to my home. I just wanted to go home.

For the moment, I had forgotten about the scene I had witnessed earlier. I became more focused on returning home, and remembering the fun parts of the afternoon. Somehow my Starbucks cup came up empty. Tawny had even managed to get a bit of conversation out of me before we parted ways. It had been long enough for her to give me a present. I vaguely remembered what I got for her, and felt worse when she brought it up. She seemed to love whatever it was that I gave her.

I faced the bitter cold once more, as I slipped out of the Simmons' van. After a quick glance at the house, I turned back to Tawny. "Would you like to come in for a minute?"

"Sorry," Tawny said, looking genuinely disappointed. "I can't."

"We have our own family dinner to get to," Mr. Simmons said.

"But maybe you two can get together over the break," her mother quickly added. "Maybe spend the night?"

"Sure…" I mumbled, still focused on Tawny.

"I'll call you," Tawny said, reaching out to give me a hug.

"Thank you for the fun evening," I said, trying to hold my emotions in check.

"It was a pleasure to have you along, Bailey," Tawny's mother said.

"Merry Christmas," Tawny said, as she finally broke our embrace. Her green eyes were filled with concern and remorse.

"Merry Christmas," I responded, more to the entire family.

The door slowly shut. I inched away, holding my hand in the air. Tawny and her mother thoughtfully returned the wave, while her father cautiously backed into the street. In a matter of seconds they were gone, and I turned to face my house. Our front stairs seemed like a mile climb for my already tired feet, and cold legs. I wanted to go in, and go straight to sleep, but I knew I had a family dinner of my own to suffer through.

"Hey kiddo," Tom said, as I closed the front door.

"Hi," I managed to mumble, as I trudged up the stairs.

"We're just getting dinner on the table," Tom shot back, without so much of an inkling he noticed something out of place. "Good timing."

I managed to raise my head long enough to feign a pleasant smile. "I'll just drop this in my room, and change," I said, holding up Tawny's gift.

"You don't have to change," Tom said, as he smiled back at me. "You look nice."

At the moment, I was so mixed up inside that I couldn't tell if Tom was being genuine, or not. He seemed a little too pleasant, and not often did he openly offer me the choice of staying dressed. My mother glided up beside him, and slipped her arms around him. Tom carefully switched his glass to his free hand, and I realized the culprit for his mellow state; eggnog. He glanced back to my mother, who was also all smiles now.

"Why don't you just freshen up," she said. "You do look nice."

"Okay," I said with pause. "I'll be in in a minute."

I heard them kiss each other with a smack as I walked away. They were probably loaded just enough to be happy. Either that, or they really were happy with each other. I neared my room, and wished it was a deep void that I could slip into. Everyone around me seemed to be happy; everyone but me. Their voices carried down the hallway as I crossed into my bedroom.

"How was that?" Tom asked.

"You're getting there," my mother said. "The compliment was a good start."

"I'm just not used to this," Tom said. "I came from a family of boys. I raised a boy, and started off here with two boys."

"It's just going to take patience," my mother said. "If Bailey wants to be a girl…"

Their words trailed off, most likely into the kitchen. I found myself slumped against the wall to my room. My mother's words troubled me, and I wished I hadn't overheard their discussion. I didn't want to be a girl. Even as I stood there in a dress, I knew I didn't want that. I just wanted to be myself, whoever, or whatever that happened to be.

Was I kidding myself though? Did everyone else see something I didn't see? I was a boy, after all. Despite my attire, or the way I acted, I still had everything that a boy technically had. I was a boy in a dress, standing in a boy's room. My chin lifted. My eyes danced around my room; determined to put this matter to rest. If for nothing else, I just wanted to uphold my own sanity.

What I saw worried me even more. I had somehow been living in denial for six months. My room didn't resemble that of a boy's room at all. There were a few remnants left, but somehow I had let femininity spread like the tendrils of a wild vine. I desperately glanced around for something; some untouched piece of my room that hadn't been invaded. However, the more I looked, the less I found.

Nail polish littered my dresser top. A skirt, on a hanger, hung from the top handle. My night table held feminine lotions and nail grooming supplies. A small stack of girls' magazines had taken over a third of my desk, and sat next to a small stuffed bear. The pale pink night shirt, I had slept in the night before, still laid on my bed. Next to it, a pile of freshly cleaned panties and socks.

My bed sheets had become a neutral white with red coverings. None of the sports memorabilia Tom had bought me hung on my walls. Instead, I had my own art, most of which was done in my spare time. It didn't exactly scream girl, but it didn't help the other way either. As my eyes moved to my closet, I found it was far easier to pick out my female attire than any male attire that might be stuffed away in there.

Everywhere I tried to find a shred of maleness in my room, I found a purse, or a pink flip-flop. Instead of finding a comic book, or a gadget, I found white-framed sunglasses, or an emery board. In place of a jersey, or ripped jeans, I had lacey leggings draped over my chair. Every single little nook and cranny was littered with things only a girl would have. My denial slowly began to slip away, and I was afraid of what would replace it.

"Bailey…" my brother shouted down the hall. "Come eat!"

---

 
 
To Be Continued...