Steven’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Eleven-year-old Stephanie Brooks snuck a peek at her Christmas presents and as punishment was forced to spend her vacation living and dressing as a boy. Steven’s handled things ok so far, but with only two days left the scariest part is coming up: he has a date with a girl for her New Year’s Eve party.

Episode 8
Steven slept nervously, unable to keep his mind off the date. He eventually rolled out of bed, making sure to leave the covers rumpled. It nagged at Stephanie’s years of training to make her bed immediately, but boys were lazy and she was still supposed to be a boy.

Steven realized he had to pee, and sighed heavily. This was the most annoying part about the whole thing. He took the plastic disc off his bureau and slipped it into the pocket on his pajamas. (Although having pajamas with pockets was pretty cool; none of Stephanie’s nightgowns had pockets.)

He plodded over to the bathroom and lifted the lid and the seat and stood at the toilet. He took the former coffee can lid from his pocket at rolled it into an open cone in his right hand, then slipped it through the fly in his pajama bottoms, using a couple fingers from his left hand to make sure it was positioned correctly. He relaxed his bladder muscles and heard the scarily familiar loud sound of liquid falling from height into water.

Stephanie was still a little creeped out by the whole thing on the inside, but it was convenient enough that she might want to still carry the disc around in her pocketbook when she went back to being a girl, just for emergencies.

Steven’s mind flashed back to when his big brother Mike had shown him how to write his name in the snow, and he was so distracted by seeing his brother’s penis that he barely got through the “S” before peeing on his boot. Guys had no shame about waving their privates around in public. Steven was glad that his “privates” were a funnel and a sock, so showing them around wasn’t a possibility.

When he finished, he wiggled the funnel and pulled it out his pajama fly, keeping it tipped down. This was the gross part, but apparently boys weren’t supposed to mind getting a couple drops in their pants. But the part of Stephanie that remained held the unrolled disc by the slightest edge and shook it over the bowl before bringing it to the sink to wash off with her hands.

Steven knew he wasn’t supposed to mind peeing on his hands, but that was just too unclean. He supposed it just went along with the whole burping, farting, scratching thing where boys were more honest and free with their bodily functions, but there were limits to how free Steven needed to be.

Steven sniffed himself and then looked in the mirror. His hair didn’t look too dirty; he could probably skip a shower. Stephanie had to hold back a tear as she remembered that first night, when Mom took the scissors to all her pretty hair, and then gave her a boyish “bowl cut.” She promised that it could be restyled into a cute pixie when she had to go back to school, but Stephanie had always worn her hair long. And after stupidly agreeing to help in her cousin’s wedding, she wouldn’t even be allowed to grow it back out until summer. There were plenty of boys with long hair, but Mom wouldn’t listen. It just wasn’t fair!

The elephant in Steven’s stomach reminded him that he had a date that night, so maybe a shower would be a good idea. He went back into his room for his bathrobe first, since he was still not comfortable walking across the hall with a towel around his waist.

Stephanie hoped that a week and a half of plain soap wasn’t drying out her skin too much, and wondered how long it would take her hair to get back its sheen after going without conditioner. In the shower, she looked down at her chest disappointedly. “I know I kept telling you guys to hurry up and grow already, and if you had I never wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. But because of the wedding I’m going to need you to stay in there and lay low for a while, Okay?” Talking to them hadn’t worked yet, but it couldn’t hurt.

Steven took a towel and dried off. At least the one good thing about short hair was that it didn’t need a blow dryer. He put on his robe and went back into his room to get dressed. That was the other part that was easy; there were so few options that it took no time to put an outfit together. He put on one of his identical pairs of white briefs, and slipped his sock into place. Then he pulled on a pair of jeans and a blue striped long-sleeved t-shirt. A pair of tube socks and his canvas sneakers went on his feet, and he was dressed.

He was late for breakfast and had to fetch his own cereal. Mom told him that he’d have to get dressed up better before going over to the Somers’ in the evening, but he was fine for now. He made sure to mumble a response while his mouth was still full of Cheerios. There was a fine line between being a boy and being rude, and it was tough keeping from crossing it.

When his big brother Mike had some free time in the afternoon, Steven went in and asked him for advice. “What does a guy do on a date? I don’t want to be a total doofus and let Brittany down.”

“Okay, Little Bro. I’ll tell you the secret to being a guy on a date, but you have to promise to forget it when you get your dick cut off and turn back into a girl. Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“It’s real simple. What a guy does on a date is try to get laid. That’s all there is to it.”

“Um, I’m twelve. I don’t think Brittany’s looking for sex.”

“I don’t now, Dude. You hear all the time about hot teachers getting it on with kids your age, so don’t think you’re too young. But anyway, you’re missing the point. It’s not about actually getting there; it’s about trying. It’s like in that game where your guy always dies, but the point is to see how long you can last. You rarely actually get there, but the object is to find out how far you can get. You start with little things, and read the signs she sends you, to see if you can try for more.”

“Signs?”

“Yeah, like say you put your arm around the girl, if she leans back and cuddles up to you, that’s a good sign. If she leans forward until you take your arm away, that’s a bad sign. If she just tenses up, it could go either way. Maybe she’s uncomfortable, or maybe she’s just nervous.”

“This is complicated.”

“Hey, don’t worry, she asked you out, right? So you’re already starting with a good sign. You know she likes you, and it also shows that she’s a little aggressive; when she knows what she wants, she goes out and gets it. That is totally awesome, and super-sexy.”

“Really?”

“Really. So just relax and pay attention, and figure out when she wants you to kiss her. If you’re really lucky, you might even get to indirectly touch a boob, like if you brush your hand just a little in front of her armpit. Has she got boobs yet, by the way?”

“Oh yeah.” The kind any girl would dream of having for her own.

“Well then you’re all set. Good luck, Kiddo.”

Steven didn’t feel all set, but that seemed to be all the advice he was going to get.

Mom made him get dressed up for the party in a blazer and a necktie, and fancy boy shoes that might even have been cute if they weren’t so clompy. The tie was too tight, the button-up shirt was itchy, even with a t-shirt underneath, the dress slacks weren’t as comfortable as the jeans he’d been wearing. Steven thought that boys probably complained about having to get dressed up more than girls because of all that burping/farting body honesty. They didn’t have the experience of girls at wearing something less than comfortable in order to look nice. Fortunately, Steven wasn’t that inexperienced.

He hoped Brittany would think he looked nice. Only time would tell.