Atalanta's Story- Chapter 4. My thanks again go to William Durr for his help, encouragement, and editing. Any errors are mine though. As a reminder this is a Whateley Academy Fanfiction.

This is a shorter chapter. Atalanta dresses up and goes to a barbecue where she dances and learns a valuable lesson and gains more insight into her change.

Chapter Four

The Resort had a warm weather tradition of Saturday night cookouts/barbecues to both greet new attendees and leave a lasting impression on those whose week was expiring.

The menu consisted of western cuisine and lots of it. Lindsey usually helped her mother prepare the food. The truth was most of the females were involved in food preparation to a degree. The men were tasked with setting up the supports, from deploying the huge tent if the weather was rainy to tables and chairs. While alcohol was served, it was closely monitored and dispensed. The end result was team-building as most of the employees helped and even some clients lent a hand.

“So you got one picked out,” Lindsey asked me for what felt like the hundredth time as we were busy cutting and preparing the veggies for cooking.

I sighed putting down the knife and turning to her replied, exasperated, “Lindsey I don’t know if I can do this. It-seems so contrived and artificial. I’m supposed to pick out a boy I like and maneuver him into asking me on a date.”

“C’mon Atalanta you’re over thinking this. It’s simple; girls do it all the time. It’s part of our womanly charms or feminine mystique.”

“Intellectually I understand what you are saying but emotionally it’s a black hole.” Seeing her look of consternation I quickly added, “Remember before I changed and you looked at me as a potential boyfriend.” She nodded, “And afterwards …,” I prompted.

“I don’t look at girls that way,” she confessed.

“But, why,” I asked? “I’m more or less the same person inside, despite the best efforts from those that shall remain anonymous.”

“Hey,” she replied too quickly, “We’re only trying to help.”

“I know, but answer the question, please.”

“Okay while you maybe the same person it is packaged different.”

“Exactly,” I cried snapping my fingers, “the package has changed, but my instincts are to view guys as potential rivals not lovers.”

“I see,” she replied examining her hands, “that does present a problem, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” I agreed, “intellectually I understand but emotionally I’m a basket case.”

“You just need a push and I’m just the girl to help you out.”

“Lindsey Daphne Rose,” I cried mocking her mom’s tone, “don’t you dare.”

We both gave into a giggling fit. God I mentally slapped myself at the typical schoolgirl behavior. But it did feel good to laugh and maybe if I approached this attraction thing like a game it might take my mind off the dreams.

Last night was the fourteenth night for the recurring dreams. I knew they held significance but I didn’t feel they were a warning; but they seemed more like a road map.

“Girl, give it up, what’s his name. What does he look like? Is he cute?” Lindsey interrupted my musings.

I was blushing furiously and whispered shyly, “He’s a new guy; I think his dad is part of the construction crew. I think he’s about my height, dark hair, and blue eyes. Is he cute? Yes.” Oh God did I just say a boy was cute! “His name is Jack-Jack Link.”

“Like the commercial; ‘Messin’ with Sasquatch?’” She teased laughing.

“No,” I pouted and rolling my eyes.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” she confided in my ear, “I’ll get my George to chit- chat with him and bring over to our table and introduce him. How’s that,” she squealed already in matchmaker mode.

“I guess it’ll do,” I conceded glumly.

Lindsey stopped what she was doing and looking up at me her smile replaced by a frown, “Look I know this is tough for you but men and women have different life views. For us girls it is about relationships and people and boys are people. Also as girls we have to be more circumspect in our relationships. As a boy you were expected to ask the girl out; as a girl you expect to be asked out. As the asked you need to use hints to show him you’re interested and unless he’s a dick if you are not interested you gently turn him down. You should know how easily deflated a boy’s ego is.”

Yeah I knew.

I also knew that mom was concerned that in undergoing a spontaneous sex change and at puberty that I might withdraw into a shell. While I knew her motivation it didn’t mean I was comfortable in that role.

“I’ll be back in a minute. You wait right here.” Then she was gone leaving me to wonder just what the hell she was up to. I kept on slicing, dicing, and peeling the carrots, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, and garlic.

Soon I saw Lindsey as she traipsed the aisle to where I was ensconced with a big wide smile on her face and her eyes dancing like firelights in the dark. I had a bad feeling.

“Okay all set,” she declared once she got in earshot of me.

“What’s all set?”

“You’ll see,” Lindsey declared mysteriously, “oh,” she added, “your mom is looking for you.”

“Thanks,” I replied dryly.

“Mom-m,” I whined, eying the clothing she had placed on my bed. My normal everyday attire was replaced with ultra feminine garments. It wasn’t they showed a lot of skin they were just so damn thin. The peach shorts required wearing a thong and the flimsy bra provided just enough material to conceal my nipples beneath the white frilly top. In place of my normal trainers was a pair of gold strappy open toed sandals.

“Mom,” I cried again wrapping my robe tighter.

“Yes, dear,” mom replied sweetly from the doorway.

I knew that tone having heard numerous times over 14 plus years. “Mom, are you advertising me for sale or something? There is not enough clothing to cover a strong breeze to say nothing about if a summer rain comes up. I might as well be naked.”

“Now Atalanta dear don’t exaggerate. Those clothes are lightweight and airy but they cover everything up by layering and misdirection. Dressing the female form is an art and this is just another lesson in subtlety.”

“Okay, mom I give; what are you up to?”

“Me,” she exclaimed, “whatever do you mean,” she returned eyes wide and mouth open, mocking.

“You saw Lindsey, what have you two cooked up?”

“Us, why nothing dear,” she replied with the same wide-eyed look frozen in place.

“Does this have anything to do with me telling Lindsey about Jack?”

“Jack, I don’t believe I know a Jack,” Liz replied sweetly, feigning ignorance. “Who is he, dear?”

“He is just a boy. Mom what have you and Lindsey cooked up?” I asked feeling dreading the implications.

“Me,” she inquired. “Okay, you got me,” she laughed. “Joking aside, I want you to experience the attention a beautiful young woman attracts from a male admirer.”

“But mom,” I pleaded, “isn’t this a bit much?”

“It is, but just a little. This will be like your coming out party,” a big wide smile lighting up her face as her eyes twinkled in excitement.

I could dredge up no more protests especially in light of my mother’s delight.

“And don’t you worry any,” she continued patting my hand, “Judy and me will be there and Lindsey and some more of the girls will watch out for you. Now, did you shave?”

“Yes mother I did.”

“Now we need to get ready.” I eyed the attire again and carefully pulled on the underwear and settling the thong on my hips then my breasts into the bra. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror I frowned at the hint of color between my hips and at the gentle swell on my chest. My nipples were concealed by a splash of color strategically placed on the sheer bandeau. The shorts and top soon followed and I went over to the vanity to complete the transformation.

“Mom, how do I look?” I asked posed hands on my hips one brightly painted foot place before the other. The dazzling luster on my toes and fingers matched my lips and hair that in a fit of rebellion I fashioned my hair into braided pigtails. I had precisely applied mascara and outlined my gray eyes by appropriate colored lids.

“Turn around for me.” I twirled easily even considering the awkwardness of the sandals.

“Well?”

“You’re beautiful,” she replied, “and I even approve of the pigtails. It contrasts well with your sophisticated look; an innocent schoolgirl charm that will leave them guessing.”

“Them?”

“Yes them … boys!”

Just then a knock announced Lindsey’s arrival and a temporary reprieve from her teasing only to be double-teamed in the end. I threw up my hands, literally and cried ‘uncle.’

“Come on Lindsey lets go,” I complained, “Jeez you girls are worse than guys.”

“You’re not mad are you?” Lindsey asked as we walked to where the table and picnic area had been set up.

“No, I don’t mind some teasing.” We walked the rest of way in thought greeting those clients, workers or their kids we met along the way.

Judy had decided that, what had started as irregular get-to-gathers on Saturday evenings would be now a formal warm weather activity. She had commissioned the construction crew to build the picnic area as well as the new clinic buildings. A covered open-air structure contained several tables and benches, and at one corner bathrooms, and along the same wall a small enclosed kitchen area. It contained a dorm size cooler, several warming trays, condiments, spices, and silverware. It was a temporary storage space. Fanning out in a semi circular pattern was more tables, these concrete, both covered and uncovered. Scattered about was several small cooking pits and behind the constructed wall and the kitchenette was a giant barbecue and smoker.

North was the big house and in between the new clinic was going up. West lay the mud baths and mineral springs and south the barns and various bike, hiking, and horse trails. Eastward was the various cottages and the road that lead off the state route.

Lindsey steered me over to a table near the kitchen area before pulling me to a stop. George was seated with his back to us and the person next to him must be Jack. They weren’t aware of us as they were facing away and from their body language were engaged in animated discussion. I hung back as she walked up and tapped George on the shoulder. He turned and snaked an arm around her waist pulling her close.

“Atalanta,” she began, “You’ve met George and this is his friend Jack.”

“Hi … Atalanta,” Jack greeted me as he stood, smiling. He was a few inches shorter than I was, heavier and up close was probably close to 16; too old for me to date. Jack was dressed in denim shorts and pullover with sneakers.

“Hi Jack,” I responded softly through lowered lids. Even as I was responding I recognized the typical coy female behavior and in recognition: blushed.

“Ah-h, how cute,” I could so kill Lindsey.

I glared at her even as the crimson spread. “Lind-se-ey!” I whispered through clenched teeth.

We sat at the table, Lindsey and me in the middle with Jack on my left and George at the other side of Lindsey.

“Nice weather for a cookout,” I noted while Lindsey rolled her eyes. Okay so shoot me for that line.

And so it began, the time honored tradition of male/female interaction. I found to my surprise that conversation was easier as a girl. All I really had to do was ask Jack questions, about himself, his dad or their travels and he talked. I just needed to listen as he rambled on and the thought, My God and they talk about females talking, came unbidden. I giggled at that thought which happened as he was telling a funny story.

Then he asked me about myself and I gave him a basic overview leaving out that three months ago I was a boy too.

“I’ll bet you were a cheerleader,” Jack asked as I finished, “You’re pretty enough.”

Gag! Still the obvious flattery felt nice.

“Yeah,” Lindsey chimed, “how come you weren’t a cheerleader,” her eyes dancing.

I gave her the “look” the one that could kill, “I was a military brat and we moved often and as the new girl,” I smiled sweetly at Lindsey, “I was often catching up on schoolwork.”

The evening progressed nicely into darkness; the boys got our food and after eating the food Lindsey and I checked out the ladies room.

After we returned to our table our conversation was interrupted by Judy’s voice coming from the loudspeaker. “Can I have your attention?”

Judy had a sound system installed and she was on a makeshift dais, “Thank you,” she smiled at her audience after they quieted.

“What is a good barbecue without music afterwards,” she asked to a chorus of agreement.

“I hope we can get live music later but recorded music will have to do for now.”

Seconds later music began to flow from the speakers and Jack asked me to dance and I accepted. For someone with no experience dancing either leading or following, dancing wasn’t as difficult as I anticipated.

I was awash in a sea of emotions though as Jack led me out for the first slow dance. After a few awkward moments to start we both settled down and I found it was pleasant to be held in masculine arms. Time seemed to stop as we moved across the floor as one. When the music stopped my head was nestled on his shoulder. Jack reluctantly released me and I stepped back while Jack gripped my hand and led me over to our seats. I was still in a daze, wrapped in the warm afterglow of … everything.

The warm clear night sky dotted with millions of stars, the comforting smells of food and drink. The murmurs of conversation floated on the night breeze. Somewhere in the night a coyote yapped and a wolf’s mournful wail lifted in response. These sensations helped to bring me out of the daze and by the time we sat I was aware of how much I had changed. Or how much sex determines our worldview.

The view and expectations from this side of the yard was certainly different than the ones I grew up with.

“Huh?” I asked Lindsey.

“Girl you need to snap out of it. You are floating on air, what did he do to you?”

“Jack? No … nothing. It is just so new and such a rush.”

Our dates, yes I was thinking of Jack as my date, had excused themselves and Lindsey and I were waiting and talking.

“I want to see if mom needs anything. I’ll be right back.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No you just hold our seats and wait here for the guys to come back.”

“Okay,” I replied with a smile, a mile wide on my face.

Just moments later another slow song began and immediately I felt a tap on my shoulder and a smooth voice, “Care to dance, Princess?”

“I’d love t …,” I began but my suitor was not Jack nor was he another boy my age. This guy was in his late teens or early twenties and he latched onto my hand pulling me on the dance floor. Before I had time to think, his arms were around me pulling me close and moving me across the floor in stilted jerky movements, which I helped to facilitate.

Over his shoulder I saw faces and expressions frozen in time. My dance partner who held me tight against his body resisted my efforts to twist free also seemed to freeze in motion, his face twisted and mouth opened in an oily smile. It was in this slow motion frame-by-frame time that his feet seemed exaggerated and frozen while whatever time distortion left me unaffected. Furious I brought my heel down hard on his instep and in the same motion drove my knee into his groin.
In an instant the time warp disappeared as he fell groaning to the dance floor and at once there was a flurry of activity and bodies as people swarmed around me.

“Oh baby, are you all right?” Mom was asking me wrapping me in her arms and squeezing tightly.

“Mom, please,” I whined, “I’m fine.” Maybe I was in shock but my focus was still centered on the time thing.

Mom led me to a table where we sat down her arm still around my shoulder followed closely by Lindsey and our dates. A few minutes after Judy sat down with us.

“Huh?” I asked to a question.

Manny Black was talking to Judy, “He was a guy we hired this week and no we don’t have any information on him. He was just a guy.”

That broke through the fog that seemed to be draped over me, just a guy. Just a guy! Suddenly I reached a decision.
“Manny can I talk to you … privately?” I asked and quietly whispered, “Mom I’ll tell you later.” We got some curious looks as we walked off a few steps.

“When do we start?”

“Start, start what?”

“The training we talked about, assuming the offer is still good.”

“Yeah it’s still good, but I am concerned this is a knee jerk reaction to what happened tonight and … there is still your mom.”

“Leave mom to me,” I declared more confidently than I felt, “and I won’t deny this is a reaction to tonight but I assure you I am committed to see it through, thanks to something you said.”

“That’s good to hear but satisfy my curiosity, “What did I say?”

“When you described him as, just a guy,” I answered.

“I don’t understand.”

“Think of it this way,” I replied, “instead of just a guy, use just any guy.”

“Hmm,” he responded thoughtfully a hand caressing his chin, “I understand. We can start Monday as long as your mom tells me it’s okay.”

“Deal,” I exclaimed, “and thanks.”

He nodded and walked off as mom, Judy, and Lindsey walked over. “What was that about?” Judy asked.

“Just a continuation from Thursday,” I returned shrugging.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading. The next chapter should be ready early next week.