Part 2

Steel blue eyes greeted me as I stared into the bathroom mirror. They were focused, determined, but still searching for that tiny bit of confidence I needed to face the day. I had gone through about twenty different hairstyles last night, before deciding to let my wavy blonde hair simply hang on my shoulders. I let a deep breath pass over my pink-stained lips. It was a subtle pink lip gloss, not too strong, and was pretty much all I needed at fourteen.

My hair wasn't the only thing I spent hours on the night before. Thursday night had become a ritual of making sure everything would be perfect for this morning. I shaved my legs, despite the fact that hair barely grew on them still. Then I ran through my moisturizing routine. After going through ten nail polishes, one for each fingernail, I finally decided on true blue. Then I changed it ten minutes later to a sleek silver. From there I applied it to my fingers and toes, and perfected it with a clear top coat. Everything had to look perfect.

I picked out the perfect outfit for the day, down to the undergarments. Last year I never had to make such a monumental decision, as they had school uniforms in Nebraska. Knowing it would be cooler in the morning, and that I would be indoors, I settled on jeans. In the years prior to the eighth grade, I had always worn baggy jeans. It had been Zachary's trademark style, I guess one could say. Now I would step out to school for the first time with jeans that actually hugged my body.

Comfort had been a major factor while picking out my perfect outfit. I wanted the clothes themselves to be comfortable, but also myself to be comfortable. However, theme had been another factor, and I had chosen to go with school colors. Which is why I went with a plain red t-shirt. Again, unlike the baggy boy clothes before, the shirt hugged my body and actually fit. Wardrobe had been one of the many things that had changed in the last year.

Another long breath came and went, and I knew most of the battle would be getting up the nerve to walk out of the door today. My hands wandered over my lower abdomen. Right above the waistband of my coral red bikini briefs, my fingers came to rest on two small scars. They were no bigger than an inch or so across, and angled in slightly toward the center of my lower abdomen. It was as if they were pointing to what had been taken from me. Two little bumps, like road bumps in my life, had caused me to change almost everything.

I had a harder time with letting go than I had imagined. Perhaps I was in shock at the hospital, but after having so much time now to realize what had happened, at times it felt overwhelming. My first year of junior high I had been a boy, secretly hiding my other life as a girl; though sometimes not doing such a bang up job of it. Last year, I had completed junior high as a girl; in a different state, a different house, and a different me. It was easy, as only my cousin, and the principal knew my real identity.

However, I missed home, and I missed my friends. My mother thought it best if I stayed with my Aunt Kimberly last year. She thought I could avoid the ongoing drama surrounding Tom's arrest, and the federal investigation brought down upon the group he got involved with. Not to mention my aunt happened to be a registered nurse, and helped me a lot through my transition. That's not to say I completely transitioned to being a girl. There were still some medical choices to be made, but I had ultimately made the decision to live as a girl. Which at times could bring up some difficult situations.

Several times in the past, in my head at least, I had decided that I would be a girl. Being so young, that "ultimate" decision had been reneged upon so many times I lost count. I knew that losing my testes did not instantly change me into a girl. However, it was a step in a certain direction, and one that was quite final. They were gone, and I had declined the offer for prosthetics. I figured why have something fake to remind me of the real ones I had lost?

That decision did not help at all with the shock of losing them. I could look down and see they were no longer there. It took me several months to adjust to their absence. However, the decision not to replace them, led to my decision to go on without them. It wasn't an easy decision, and I still struggled with it. Sometimes I questioned if I had made the right choice. Usually that question came every time I had a needle in me, injecting hormones throughout my entire body.

At least this time the drugs were better monitored, and we all knew what they were. The jury was still out on the results, however. My skin had become softer, and my hair had definitely gotten more body. I'd always shrugged that compliment off before, but now I knew what the hormones could do to my hair. Of course I also knew what they could do to my mind and body, and it had been a constant struggle keeping both of those in check.

The last thing I thought that I would ever worry about, happened to be the thing that girls around me worried about the most. Actually, girls and guys seemed to be focused on them at that age, but for different reasons. I couldn't even count how many times I heard a girl ask another girl if her breasts were too big, or too small. They weren't obsessed with them like boys, but it was another one of those things they questioned themselves about. If anything, they were worried that the boys would disapprove of them.

Part of that got into my head. I wasn't obsessed with having boobs either. They were simply one more thing I had to keep covered up now. However, for reasons I couldn't explain, I worried that they would not meet the approval of society. From a cultural standpoint, people where I lived considered it healthy to have big boobs. And gazing upon my paltry A cups in their coral red pushup bra, I worried that it would be one more thing to have to deal with later. They were still slightly uneven, but only noticeable if I stared at them for longer than a minute.

I sighed. Eventually I had to get going. Looking into the mirror once more, I forced a confident smile. I shrugged my shoulders up, and then let the stress fall out of my body. It was a technique my former therapist suggested as part of my goal to alleviate some of the more stressful situations in my life. Whenever I would be faced with a situation I thought would be stressful, I visualized it wrapped around me to where I had to throw it off.

Reaching for the handle, I yanked the door to the bathroom open. I took my first steps toward life as a high school student. My bare feet sank into the plush beige carpet. As I made my way to my room, my mother came around the corner from the kitchen. She looked nice; dressed in an ivory blouse, and grey pencil skirt. Her makeup looked perfect as usual, and her hair bounced with loose curls.

"You better get a move on," she said, before taking a bite of toast.

"I just have to get dressed," I said, passing into my room.

Things had definitely changed around here. In the past I wouldn't be caught dead running around the house in bra and panties. Not only would my stepfather be running me down, but I would've felt weird doing it with two guys in the house. My mother didn't seem to care at all. In fact, she would do it herself at times; running to get her clothes from the laundry room. Sometimes she would iron a blouse while in her bra. It wasn't like we stood around and talked while undressed, as that would be weird.

I always wondered what it would be like without Tom and Justin around. Now I knew. We actually had freedom. My mother had freedom to not always be dressed to impress Tom's company. While I had freedom to be who I wanted to be. Granted, I didn't want to be someone that ran around in lingerie, but I liked the freedom to be able to step across the hall in it.

"The bus will be here in about ten minutes," my mom yelled down the hall. "I don't have time to take you if you miss it."

"I literally just have to put my clothes on," I said, while grabbing a pair of white ankle socks from my drawer. "Everything else is ready to go."

"Good girl," my mom said, as she passed my room on the way to her own.

It still felt weird to hear her say that, even after a year of living as one. I looked down at my socks. Even those had changed. I had always worn plain white socks, that either rose barely above the ankle, or fell slightly under it. However, they had always been generic unisex socks. Never before had they looked so dainty and girly as the ones I held in my hand now. These were actual girls socks from the girls department; lighter weight with a touch of glimmer to the material.

I quickly put the socks on, and pulled on my jeans. Everything had been laying out ready to go for hours. Now everything felt so rushed. I could feel my stomach begin to tie itself into knots again. It took every ounce of fortitude I had to pull my shirt on, and sit to put on my white Skechers. I grabbed my book bag, and forced myself to stand. Then I turned to see my mother in the doorway.

She stepped into my room. Casually she reached up, and pulled a few strands of hair from beneath my shirt. She fluffed my hair a little on the sides. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and looked me over. I stood anxiously, a bundle of nerves ready to explode. There was a moment in time where I wanted this day more than anything, but now I found myself slowly growing to resent how I felt at that moment. I felt sick. I wanted to crawl back into bed.

"You look beautiful," my mother said, smiling. "You're going to be fine."

"I don't know about this," I said, quietly. My voice shook like my knees.

"Bailey," she said, looking into my eyes. "Take a deep breath. You can do this."

I nodded as I drew in a deep breath.

"Now…" she said, taking her hands off of my shoulder. "Smile, and go take on the world."

It was like her telling me to smile, actually forced me to smile. I took another deep breath, heaving my book bag onto my shoulder as I let it out. My mother stepped aside and I walked past her to the hallway. I quickly grabbed my lip gloss from the bathroom, and shoved it in my pocket as I made my way for the stairs. Twelve stairs later, and the door closed behind me, I was out in the world, ready to go to high school for my freshman year.

"Hi!"

I studied the strange girl at the end of the driveway, as I made my way down our front steps. She had short dark red hair, definitely dyed, framing her diamond-shaped face. Her pale skin actually made my few hours of sunbathing that week have meaning. She wore slightly baggy jeans that rested on her well worn Doc Martins. While her white Hard Rock shirt finished her off with a sort of trendy-grunge look. Though she looked highly too feminine and hygienic to be in with the grunge crowd.

"Hello," I said, as I approached her.

"Amber," she said, thrusting her hand out. "I just moved in across the street this summer."

As I took her hand, I couldn't help but notice the studded black bracelet and her black fingernails. This girl wanted to pull off the rocker look so bad, it reminded me of Tawny back in seventh grade. "Bailey," I said, shaking her hand. "I just came back this summer."

"Came back?" she asked, as our handshake concluded.

"I spent the last year at my aunt's house in Nebraska."

"How… boring," she said.

I smiled at her remark. "It had its moments."

Amber shrugged. "Hey, at least you had an adventure."

"I guess you could say that."

"And at least it wasn't Oklahoma," she said, smiling.

"Okay…" I shrugged, not knowing what she meant by that remark.

I looked over across the street. For years we had lived with, and occasionally watched, the couple that lived there. They seemed to fight all of the time, sometimes dragging it out into the street. She liked to throw things. He liked to yell obscenities. However, I don't think the police cared for visiting all that much. Eventually the couple would calm down for a few weeks or a month, but then the peace would be shattered, and they'd be at each others' throats again.

"So you're cute," Amber said, quickly drawing my focus.

"What?"

Her mouth dropped slightly. "I didn't mean it that way," she said. "I'm totally not into chicks." She gestured at my outfit. "I meant your ensemble. It's cute."

"Oh…" I looked down at my apparel. "Thanks. I probably look like a goody two-shoes though."

"Nah," she said, patting my shoulder. "Though if you had a Hello Kitty backpack, I'd totally rag on you."

I looked back up at her and laughed nervously. "Well…" I looked her over once more. "You've got a nice…"

Amber raised her eyebrows. "Yeah," she said. "I know I look like crap."

"Well I wouldn't say that."

"Oh, I'd be the first to admit it," Amber said. "I never do the whole new clothes shopping thing for school. I just put on whatever wasn't too worn out to be inappropriate."

"And the bracelet?" I pointed at her wrist.

Amber lifted her arm to look at it. "Okay, so I have a little bit of an alternative vibe going," she said. "But I'm not total Goth or emo. I swear… You wear black nail polish these days and everyone thinks you have feelings, or want to cut yourself."

"Wow," I said. "You really just say what's on your mind, don't you?"

"I was just… making conversation," she said, stepping back.

"No," I said, reaching out for her. "It's a good thing. Pretty refreshing. You remind me of another friend of mine." I glanced away for a moment. "At least I hope she's still a friend."

"So we're friends now?" Amber asked.

"Huh?"

"You said 'another' friend," she said. "Like we're already friends."

"Oh… I didn't realize…"

"Nah, it's cool," she said, slapping my shoulder. "I'll be your friend." She flashed me a smile.

"Friends then," I said, reaching out to shake her hand again.

Amber stepped forward and threw her arms around me. I stood there with my hands to the sides, wondering what fresh nightmare I had stepped into. As she departed from our awkward friend hug, I could tell by the look on her face that this was genuinely something she needed. Like she truly needed a friend to start the day. Perhaps she was having as much trouble facing high school as me, and we were both sort of the new kids in town.

"Hey!" Nathan Riley's voice sounded like a shotgun in a barrel. He slowly rolled up beside us in his Jeep. "You want a ride to school?"

"You know him?" Amber asked.

"He's an old friend," I said, as I approached Nathan's Jeep. I looked back at my house, and then turned to Nathan. "Sure. I'll ride with you."

"Cool." He reached across and opened the door, as he looked past me toward Amber. "How about you?"

Amber nervously looked up at her own house. I started to wonder if her mom or dad gave her the same lecture about riding in cars with new drivers. She stood there, kind of rocking from side to side. About that time the bus came up over the hill; it's brakes screeching as it stopped to pick up other students. Amber glanced at the bus, then at her house one last time.

"Why not?" she said, before brushing past me to get in the back seat.

I happened to glance up at her house. Standing at the front door was a large muscular man. His arms were crossed, and the look on his face told me the entire story. He was not happy with the decision Amber had made. I quickly handed off my bag to Amber, and jumped into the passenger seat. Any moment I feared her dad would come out after her, but he simply closed the door to the house.

"Your dad didn't look too happy," I said, as Nathan took off down the street.

"He'll get over it," Amber said, as she leaned forward between our seats. She stared at Nathan for a moment; a scene that became increasingly uncomfortable. "Hi there," she finally said.

"Hi," Nathan said.

"I'm Amber."

"Nathan." He glanced into the mirror. "Could you buckle in please."

"Okay, dad," Amber said, retreating back to her seat.

"I can always take you back to the bus," Nathan said, pulling up to a stop sign.

"Please don't," Amber said. "I'll be good. Promise."

The scene seemed pretty comical to me. Amber sounded like a little kid, scolded by her father, Nathan. I chuckled, as I looked out the window.

"What's so funny?" Nathan asked.

"Nothing," I said. "It's just… You two actually sounded like father and daughter there for a minute."

"I wouldn't mind having him as a dad," Amber said, winking at Nathan in the mirror. "Maybe he could spank me when I'm bad."

"Jeez," Nathan said. "You always this forward?"

"Do you like forward?" Amber asked, reaching up to caress his arm.

"Not particularly." Nathan shrugged her off, but I could tell he was noticeably flustered. He glanced over at me. "You worried about your first day?"

"Not as much as I was," I said, welcoming the change of subject. "It took a lot for me to get going though."

"Mhmm," Amber said. "She probably spent hours getting ready, to look that good."

"That's not exactly what I meant," I said.

"What did you mean then?" Amber asked.

I suddenly realized this wasn't the conversation I wanted to have with mixed company. And by mixed company, I meant someone that didn't know about my past with someone that did. I knew Nathan was asking how I felt about going to high school as a girl. Unfortunately, I just couldn't answer that question the way I wanted to right now. At least not in front of Amber.

"She's been away for a year," Nathan quickly said. "I was wondering how she felt about that." He gave me a knowing look.

"Oh," Amber said. "I just moved here. Military brat. Don't even know how long I'll stay this time."

"That has to suck," I said, turning to face her.

Amber shrugged. "You get used to it." She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. "Cool! We're both in the same drama class. I'll save you a seat."

"You went through my stuff!?" I asked, ready to jump into the back seat with her.

"Relax," she said. "I didn't go through anything. I just saw your schedule sticking out." She put it back in my book bag. "I didn't look at your locker combo, if that's what got your panties in a twist."

Nathan chuckled from the driver's seat. "You know… I'm starting to like her."

"Thanks," Amber said, smiling brightly.

I sat back down in my seat in a noticeable huff.

"How did you get out of gym class?" Amber asked. "My dad thinks that's like the most important class of the day."

I shifted uncomfortably, and glanced out the window. "I… I was kind of late getting enrolled," I said. "Had to take what they gave me."

"Lucky," Amber said. "Hey, Nathan. Are you like a senior?"

"Junior," Nathan said.

"Nice," Amber said. "How did you meet Bailey then?"

"I knew her brother," Nathan said. "And then Bailey and I became friends."

"You two ever… you know?"

We both said "no" at the same time, causing an awkward silence afterwards.

"Too weird?" Amber asked. "Or is Nathan gay?"

"I'm not gay," Nathan said, laughing nervously.

"I mean it's cool if you are," Amber said. "I won't judge." She looked out of her window. "That's my dad's job."

"He's not gay," I said.

"Are you gay, Bailey?" A long silent pause awkwardly filled the inside of the Jeep. Nobody said anything for at least a minute. That is until Amber shattered the silence again. "Oh shit! You're totally gay, aren't you?"

"No," I said. "I mean, not totally."

Nathan glanced at me with a rather confused expression on his face.

"Bi?" Amber asked. "That's so cool!" she exclaimed without letting me answer. "Have you made out with a girl before?"

"I guess you could say that," I muttered.

"That's totally awesome!" Amber said, as she lightly grabbed my shoulder and shook me. "I had a lesbian friend where I lived last year. She was like one of those… well… I'll just say she hated men. Like wanted to see them all die." She paused for a moment. "Sorry… How was it? You know… Making out with a girl?"

I glanced at Nathan, who had seemed to tune out the conversation now. I could tell I was in this alone. "I… don't know," I said.

"It's cool," Amber said. "We don't have to talk about it."

The vehicle grew silent for several minutes. I stared out the window. The truth was that I didn't mind talking about it. I just didn't know Amber all that well. She hadn't even told me her last name, and here we were blabbing about sexual orientation. Furthermore, I hadn't even answered that question. She only assumed the answer by my non-answer. It seemed weird, but she had a way of getting people to talk. I worried had it gone on any longer, she probably would've learned about my being transgender.

"And we're here," Nathan said loudly, as he pulled into the school parking lot.

We slowly navigated our way through the mess of student drivers. Eventually we found a spot to park that wasn't extremely far from campus. Although I'm sure Nathan wanted to park his new vehicle as far away from damage as possible. It didn't seem like an option in the cramped confines of the student parking lot. I quickly opened the door as soon as the Jeep stopped moving.

"You guys are totally awesome," Amber said. "Thanks for the ride, Nathan." She lightly grabbed his arm before she climbed out of the Jeep. "See you seventh period, Bailey."

"Yeah, see ya," I said.

"Bailey," Nathan said quietly.

I turned to face him.

Nathan looked at me with some concern. "That was… interesting. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said smiling.

"No," he said. "I mean… Are you okay? Like going to high school today, and everything, after…You know?"

"Truthfully," I said, closing the door. "I'm a little nervous. And I don't think that conversation helped."

"Actually, it might have helped more than you know," Nathan said. "If it had been just us, it all would've been about the past. Not really the things we'd need to think about today."

"The past is the past," I said. "Things don't have to be what they once were."

"I'm just worried about you," Nathan said.

"I'll be fine." I flashed him a reassuring smile. "It's just school."

"Bailey…" he said. "About the other day…"

"What about it?"

"The kiss…" He looked at me. "That was just a friendly thank you, right?"

"Oh," I said. "Yeah. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea."

"No," Nathan said. "No need to apologize. It's exactly what I thought. I just wanted to make sure."

"Total friend kiss," I said, smiling.

"Okay," Nathan said, returning the smile.

Stepping out of the vehicle, I realized how extremely not "fine" I felt. I grabbed my book bag out of the back seat, and flung it over my shoulder. Nathan stepped out of the Jeep as I closed the door on the passenger side. He closed his door, and walked to the back of the Jeep. Soon after I joined him, and we both took a deep breath, and quickly let it out.

"Where's your bag?" I asked.

"I put everything in my locker after practice yesterday," he said. "Want me to carry yours?"

"That's really sweet," I said, "but I think I can manage."

"Okay…" He nodded back behind him to the school. "Shall we?"

I looked toward the school. In the sunlight the windows on the buildings glimmered, as if it were a shining beacon of hope. Then again, it could've been a mirage. For all I knew, this could be the beginning of the worst four years of my life. Pushing those feelings aside, I took my first steps toward the future. If anything, I had to embrace the next four years with optimism. I was going to high school as a girl, and was determined to make it the best four years of my life.

"I can drive you home today," Nathan said. "But the rest of the semester I'll be in practices, or going to games."

"I should probably ride the bus," I said. "So the driver at least knows I exist."

We both chuckled.

"I get ya," Nathan said. "I don't mind bringing you though. I have to go by your house every morning anyway."

"Well now that offer pretty much extends to Amber," I said. "You sure about that?"

Nathan shrugged. "She's okay," he said. "Talks a lot, but I don't think she's trying to be a bitch about it."

"I wouldn't know," I said. "Just met her about two minutes before you did."

"I'd be careful about what you say around her," Nathan said. "At least until you know her better."

"Yeah… I kind of picked up on that." I kicked at a rock in the pavement. "I can't believe I blabbed about being… You know."

"At least she was cool with it," Nathan said. "Maybe she won't tell the whole school by the end of the day."

"She wouldn't be a good friend, if she did," I said.

"Well," Nathan said. "I have to go that way." He nodded to a building on the right. "Good luck, Bailey."

"Thanks."

I stood for a moment and watched Nathan walk away. He actually looked pretty good wearing normal clothes. While he still had on his football jersey for Friday, he wore it with jeans and sneakers. It looked nice, and a little more dressy than gym shorts. Eventually he disappeared into the growing crowd of students. I read something about having over two thousand students this year. Now I could see that number in full effect.

My legs started working again. I strolled toward my first class, taking in the atmosphere as I went. While I had seen the campus a week ago, I never pictured it with so many people. It seemed so big. Students whizzed past me. Some of them exchanged quick glances with me, while others took more of a gander. The few that smiled, I would return the smile in kind.

Still, I did not see anyone I knew. As I sat down in my science class, I even began to worry a little. Nobody looked recognizable. It seemed as if I stepped into some weird alternate dimension, where all of the kids my age didn't exist anymore. At least there wasn't anyone I personally recognized. Although people could have changed as well in the past year.

The teacher walked in as the last bell rang. She strolled to the front of the class, and opened her role book. Then she asked us all to stand up. Slowly she went through the book, calling role. With each name she called, she had us sit in alphabetical order. Oddly enough I recognized a few of the names from seventh grade. However, they weren't people I necessarily knew that well. In the end, I wound up sitting next to a skater boy named Brendan Tucker.

The next fifty minutes were extremely boring. At least it was more entertaining for Brendan. I caught him staring at me twice. Either he was stoned, or as bored as me. He seemed to take a liking to me, from what I could tell. When the teacher passed out textbooks and the syllabus, I swear Brendan deliberately tried to touch my hand. I continually watched the clock, and prayed for class to be over. Eventually the bell rang and I hurried to get away from him.

As I walked to my next class, I began to worry if I had made the right decision. I could have easily stayed with my aunt for four years. Nobody knew me there, and I could've slipped through high school without an issue. The only thing that seemed familiar here was my mother and Nathan. Yet, even Nathan seemed a bit standoffish to me. It was as if he was asking the question himself of why I came back.

I wandered into the art room, thinking that maybe I should have even stayed a boy. Again, nobody looked familiar. Had I hit some strange time loop where everyone I knew had stayed in eighth grade, while I went on to high school? The odds of every single one of my friends getting held back a grade, would be impossible. Right as I began to pick a chair, a group of students cleared out. I locked eyes with a pair of hazel beauties.

Tiffany Stewart's jaw dropped. Her eyes grew to where they seemed likely to pop out of her skull. She waved me over to her table. As I weaved through the students hovering around the classroom, Tiffany wouldn't take her eyes off of me. I finally made it over to her table, and she pushed out a chair.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked.

"Hi Tiff."

"Is it really you?" Tiffany asked. "I mean, are you really here as…" She gestured toward my attire.

"Yes," I said. "It's me." I glanced around the room. "And yes… it's me," I said again, after lowering my voice.

"Wow," she said quietly. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," I said. "You look as pretty as ever."

Tiffany blushed. She lowered her head slightly and let her long black hair cover it up. "I never thought I'd see you again," she said. "After that night…" She clamped her hand down on my wrist. "You have to tell me everything."

I put my hand on hers. "I will," I said. "I'm surprised you're not mad at me."

"Well… I wish you would have called," Tiffany said. "But I think I understand why you didn't. I don't see how I could be mad at you." She gave me a half smile. "I kept asking Kate, but she said Justin wouldn't say a word to her about you."

"Yeah," I said. "I don't get why Justin was so hush-hush about it."

The warning bell rang, causing us both to jump in our seats. Tiffany pulled her hand back. "I want to know everything," she said. "I mean it. Everything…"

"Are you busy tonight?"

"I'm going to the game with Tracy," she said. "Come with us."

"Really?" I asked. "You like football now?"

"Not exactly," she said. "Jason is playing, and Tracy wants to go watch. So I said I'd go with her."

"Those two are still together?"

Tiffany nodded. "Tawny will be there too."

"The three T's back in action," I said, laughing a little. "I guess I could go."

The final bell rang, followed immediately by our teacher's voice. He nearly had to shout over the group of talking kids. "Alright everyone," he said. "Pick a seat, and prepare to be stuck in it for the rest of the year."

"That's a relief," I said to Tiffany. "We had assigned seating last hour."

Tiffany looked me over one last time. I noticed a slight twinkle in her eye at one point. She smiled. Then we both turned to focus on what second period art would have in store for us for the next year. After receiving an art supply list, and a twenty minute opening lecture on what art meant, the rest of class seemed to blaze by. I had very little time to talk to Tiffany after class, as I needed to make it all the way across campus. We did have just enough time for her to tell me when her sister could swing by and pick me up.

I walked off toward my next class. Amazingly Tiffany wasn't mad at me, at least not super mad. I'm sure she had been a little upset not hearing from me in a year. That year had been extremely kind to her as well. Tiffany had turned into the splitting image of her sister, Kate. Truthfully, I had always had a crush on Kate, even while "going steady" with Tiffany. I always felt guilty about it. However, at only fourteen, Tiffany had the makings of a supermodel. I wanted to say she was drop dead gorgeous, but all I could come up with for a compliment was "pretty."

All the way to English class, I kicked myself inwardly. There were times I wish I had said what needed to be said. It amazed me how good Amber had become at that. She wasn't scared to say what was on her mind. Granted, I wouldn't want to be as crass with it as Amber, but I had to admit it was a desirable personality trait for an introvert like me. Being so consumed in my thoughts I barely noticed I had made it to my next class.

"Yo, Bailey!"

I looked up to see Jason Coleman. Next to him sat a rather stunned, and slightly thinner, Tracy Young. Jason looked a little huskier than I remembered. He filled out his freshman football jersey rather well, but it just didn't have the flare that Nathan's varsity jersey had. Tracy, on the other hand, had lost weight, and had really toned out her body. I imagine she spent a lot of time in her pool, or perhaps even on the pool team. Her red hair seemed to be slightly damaged from chlorine.

"Come sit with us," Jason said.

"I'm surprised you even recognized me," I said, as I slipped into a chair behind them.

"Are you kidding?" Jason asked. "How could I forget the girl who hooked us up?"

"What happened to you anyway?" Tracy asked.

"Yeah," Jason said. "You just vanished for a year."

"It's a long story," I said.

"You coming to the game tonight?" Jason asked.

"Yes, actually," I said. "I told Tiff I'd go with her."

"Nice," Tracy said. "We can catch up."

I nodded to her as the bell rang. The teacher got up and started addressing the class. As she talked, and had us hand out textbooks, I suddenly got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now I worried about actually running into people I knew. It began to worry me how many people recognized me. Tiffany, I could understand, but I wasn't around Tracy a lot. Jason, on the other hand, barely knew me. He never even knew that I used to cross dress, though I'm sure Tracy told him at some point. However, he referred to me in a feminine noun without missing a beat. That alone just seemed off.

The next few hours went by painfully slow. I knew a few students in Geography and Algebra I, but only by name recognition. One boy actually gave me a double take when the teacher called my name. Though I think he had second thoughts about my last name. At least I could be thankful for the slight name change. It provided a small buffer for me to relax behind.

By noon I found myself meandering through the day. It was lunch time, and I had not even thought to ask anyone if they had the same lunch period. With lunch tray in hand, I stood before a sea of students. Vacant spots were scattered amongst the large folding tables. Anyone wearing a football jersey filled up a row of tables. Apparently it was some school tradition for the team to sit together on game day. Today it happened to include the entire team.

I cautiously made my way to a vacant spot near the door. As I passed a table of cheerleaders, one of them asked me if I wanted to buy a ribbon. My mother gave me barely enough money for lunch, so I had to decline her offer. Luckily it didn't hurt her feelings any, and I quickly moved away from the situation. I finally found a seat, and dug in; prepared to eat alone.

A few minutes later, the room filled with the sound of guys whistling and giving catcalls. I turned to see three cheerleaders walking up onto a small stage. The one in the middle smiled and then blushed as the whistles kept coming. Then she proceeded to announce that the cheerleaders were selling ribbons for Students Against Drunk Driving, and pointed out where to find them. After a few more cheers and whistles, she walked off of the stage with the other two cheerleaders. I shook my head, prepared to go back to eating.

Suddenly someone threw their arms around me, embracing me tightly from behind. I nearly fell into my tray of food, before I was rocked backwards. From the feel of the embrace, I could tell it was a girl. That, and the alternating red and black fingernails kind of gave it away. Eventually the mystery person let go and sat down next to me on the stool seat.

"Now this girl has school spirit!"

"Tawny!?"

"Bailey!?"

Tawny Simmons returned my surprised tone in an equally, but still mocking, tone of surprise. I couldn't believe my eyes. Tawny, the girl most likely to never be caught dead in something feminine, sat before me in a cheerleader outfit. Instead of raggedy skater shorts and an old t-shirt, Tawny donned the ribbons, shell, skirt, lacy socks and sneakers. Tawny wore it all, and she wore it well. She looked absolutely stunning, and ultra feminine.

"You're…" I looked her over again. "A cheerleader."

Tawny looked down at her own apparel. "I am!?"

"You look good," I said.

Tawny's bright green eyes came up to meet mine. "You too," she said, smiling. "Exactly what I saw when I drew that picture a year ago."

I felt myself start to blush, and I turned away from her. Then I felt her fingers gently touch my chin, and she turned me back to look at her.

"I always knew," she said quietly, "but I never expected to see it. When Tiffany told me, I hardly believed her. But now…" Tawny's chest heaved as she took a labored breath. "You really look amazing, Bailey."

Another cheerleader walked over to us. "You're supposed to be selling ribbons, Tawny," she said. "Not picking up dates."

I looked up at the other cheerleader, and recognized her immediately. "Rachel?"

Rachel Ford stopped glaring at Tawny. She bent down slightly to look at me. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, taking a step back. "Holy crap…" Her voice had dropped to a breathless whisper.

"She meant that in a good way," Tawny said, dropping her hand onto my knee.

"Yeah," Rachel said, her voice returning to her. "I mean… totally." She quickly sat down next to me, on the other side, and spun me around to face her. "Wow…" Her light brown eyes studied me. "You look better than Megan ever did."

My lips dropped to a slight frown. "That's not fair," I said.

"No," Tawny said, from behind me. "Totally fair. Screw that bitch." She spun me back around. "You look…" She drew in a deep breath. "Hot!" she said, with the exhale.

"Would you like a ribbon?" Rachel asked, close to my ear.

I turned slightly back to her. "I don't have any money."

"Just say yes," Rachel said.

"Yes?"

Tawny turned me around to face her once more. I could still hardly believe her black hair being done up in pigtails, with streams of ribbon hanging from them. She looked absolutely adorable. Then something hit me. I couldn't say what was on my mind to Tiffany, but I somehow felt the courage now.

"You look absolutely adorable," I said, repeating my thoughts out loud. "With the ribbons and everything."

I watched as Tawny's cheeks almost turned the same shade of red as her uniform. She lowered her head slightly, looking up at me across her brow. "Stop…" she said, quietly.

"I agree with you," Rachel said. "And soon you're going to look adorable too."

"Wait… what?"

I tried to turn to face Rachel, but she forced my head back around. Tawny started giggling. Soon I felt strands of my hair being pulled in different directions. Rachel yanked my head back, with a firm grasp on my hair. I felt Tawny's hands on my knees. She told me to relax. After a few minutes of swift tugs, and pulls, Rachel let me go. My hands slowly reached for my hair. Eventually they came into contact with streaming ribbons, which neatly held my hair up into two pigtails.

Tawny smiled brightly at me. "Adorable," she said.

"My work is done," Rachel said, standing up from the table and walking away. "Now you're ready for the game!"

"Oh yeah," Tawny said. "Tiff told me you're going to the game tonight."

I nodded, still feeling my hair. It felt like it was being pulled in two different directions. I imagined my scalp splitting down the middle at any moment.

"I have to do the whole cheerleading thing for the freshman game," she said. "Can we talk afterwards?"

"Sure," I said.

"I'll see you then," Tawny said, rising from her seat.

"Wait," I said, grabbing for her wrist. "Can't you sit with me?"

Tawny gave me a strained look. "I have to do the whole ribbon thing today," she said. "Got out of class for it."

"Oh," I said. "I understand."

"On the bright side," she said, "this is my lunch period." Tawny smiled at me. "So I can sit with you the rest of the year." She nodded toward Rachel. "Rachel too, if you want?"

"That would be great," I said. "It's kind of lonely here."

Tawny twisted her hand around to where she now held my wrist. She beckoned me with her other hand, as she started to pull me from my seat. Then she threw her arms around me once more, and I returned the embrace this time. We hugged for quite awhile.

"I missed you," Tawny said, pulling away.

"I missed you too," I said.

"I'll see you tonight," Tawny said, as she started to walk away. After a few steps she turned to look over her shoulder. She gave me a quick wink, and turned to keep walking.

The next hour seemed like a blur. Music Appreciation was actually more fun than I thought it would be. The history of it seemed interesting. I'd always liked music, but had always only been just okay at it. I could sing well enough to be in the background. I had aspirations of learning an instrument; mainly guitar. Apparently I had good rhythm during exercises in other music classes.

Carla and Nancy were in the same class, but I don't think they recognized me. Before class started, I thought about going over to say hello, but changed my mind. I had enough people to catch up with today, and I could save the rest for later. It was going to be a busy night. And I'd only just realized that I had made all of these plans without even knowing if my mother would allow me to go. Hopefully she would cut me some slack and let the spontaneous night slide.

With about an hour left of school, I made my way to my last class for the day. Already the change of campuses was wearing me out. Every year of school, until now, I had only had to walk around in one building. This school had several buildings, separated into different areas of education. Between them were walkways and trees, even a gazebo in the middle of campus. The experience of walking in and out, from building to building, was exhausting in its own right.

I found my way past the cafeteria, and into the auditorium on the other side. The auditorium was built more recently, and the transition from old part of the building to new was rather strange. In some places it seemed like they didn't really get the alignment right. It also didn't flow very well, as the newer auditorium had decades of advancements going for it. Where the cafeteria side looked old and grungy, the auditorium looked new and shiny.

As I strolled along the aisle separating the seating, front to back, I admired the stage. Massive red curtains were neatly furled along the sides. They hid another row of black curtains behind them. The stage itself looked newer, but worn; the wood even gleaming in spots beneath the lights. Even the seats in the auditorium had been updated to stadium seating. This had to be the neatest building on campus. I strolled over to a seat, and plopped down; taking in the atmosphere.

"Hiya neighbor!" Amber plopped down next to me. She lifted her feet and plopped her worn Doc Martins down on the chair in front of her. "How was your first day?"

Before I could say anything, another dark-haired girl walked over. She reached out and flipped Amber's feet off of the chair. "Respect the theater please," she said, in a stern voice.

"Sorry…" Amber said, straightening up in her seat.

I looked at the girl for a long moment, before realizing I knew her. That heart-shaped face and those turquoise eyes; they seemed so familiar. What gave her away more than anything though, were her preppy clothes. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they came right off of the racks at 'Tweens.

"Jillian?"

The girl stopped and looked at me. She studied me for a long moment. Her brow furrowed, as if she were trying to conjure up some past image of me, but couldn't quite make it out. I watched as her mouth moved, possibly trying to remind her of a name. Of all the people, I thought Jillian Wilcox would instantly recognize me. She had nearly blew my cover back in junior high.

"It's Bailey," I said.

"Bailey?" Jillian sat down next to me. "Holy cow! I didn't recognize you in the dark. And I didn't expect you to be wearing…" She motioned at my clothing. "I mean…" She glanced over at Amber, and suddenly became aware of the situation. "This girl was always in skirts," Jillian lied to Amber. "Never wore jeans." She turned to me, her eyes apologetic. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since I started high school."

"I've been good," I said, recovering myself from the almost sticky situation. "I've actually been at my aunt's place the last year."

"No wonder I never saw you around," Jillian said. "Nancy and Carla were worried you ran away from home."

"Well I sort of did," I said, with a slight laugh.

"You seem to be the popular one," Amber said, from beside me.

"I'm sorry… Amber, this is Jillian. Jillian, this is Amber, my neighbor." I watched them shake hands. "I just met her this morning."

"And we're already the best of friends," Amber said, throwing her arm around my shoulder.

I gave Jillian a slight eye-roll, though I wasn't sure if she caught it in the dark. "Why don't you sit with us?"

Jillian smiled. "Well, I wouldn't want to get between two besties."

"It's cool," Amber said. "I'll scoot down one." With that, Amber practically jumped into the next seat over. She patted the seat between us. "Come on. I wanna hear more about you two."

"I need to grab my bag," Jillian said, retreating to the aisle.

"Is that the girl you made out with?" Amber asked, her voice barely audible.

I turned to face Amber in shock. "No!"

"Too bad," Amber said. "She's got that prep school bitch thing going for her. Kind of sexy."

About that time, someone came up and put their hands over my eyes. I reached up to touch them. "Guess who…" a voice whispered in my ear.

"Tiff?"

"Yeah…" Tiffany said, disappointingly. She dropped her hands. "Am I that bad at disguising my voice?"

"Nah," I said, looking back at her, smiling. "I just recognized your watch from earlier."

Tiffany slapped me on the shoulder. "You cheat." She tossed her bag in the chair next to me. "I gotta run to the girls' room. Save me a seat."

"Sure." I watched her leave. Somehow I couldn't quite turn away from the image of her butt in those jeans. Suddenly I felt a presence next to me.

"Was that the girl you made out with?" Amber whispered, rather close to my ear.

I turned to see her leaning over the seat next to me. "If you must know," I said. "Yes. That's Tiffany. My…" I paused for a moment. What in the world were we? "My ex-girlfriend," I finished.

"Not bad," Amber said, nudging me with her elbow. "Nice to see you're still friends."

"Yeah…"

I turned back to find Tiffany, but she had already left the auditorium. The warning bell rang out, letting everyone know there was one minute until class started. Jillian returned, and took a seat between Amber and me. She had let her hair grow out a little, and it looked pretty cute. I smiled when she turned to glance at me, and she returned the smile. Then she leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

"How's life on the other side?"

"It's… been interesting," I said. "A lot of things to deal with."

"How long?" she asked, trying to remain cryptic.

"A little over a year," I said.

"That's…" Jillian looked me over. "Really remarkable." She nudged me lightly with her elbow. "Good for you."

Tiffany plopped down in the seat next to me, just as the tardy bell rang. "So I was thinking just now," she said. "You could walk over to my house after school. It's just two blocks. Then we could hang out before the game. That way my sister wouldn't have to come get you across town."

"I'm thinking I might have to ask my mom first," I said. "She doesn't even know about my plans."

"Oh," Tiffany said. "I understand."

Jillian leaned over. "You could call her after school," she said. "If she says no, Dylan can give you a ride home."

"Who's Dylan?" Tiffany asked.

"Her cousin," I said. I turned to Jillian. "Are you going to the game?"

Jillian shook her head. "I have to work."

I looked at Jillian for a moment. I actually felt sorry for her still having to give up Friday nights to work at her parent's store. "Dylan won't mind?"

Jillian shook her head again. "It's on the way to the mall." She turned to face us. "Besides, you two should get a chance to catch up." She reached out and playfully poked me in the ribs. "But I expect you to catch me up later too."

"I will," I said. "I promise."

"So it's settled?" Tiffany asked.

I shrugged. "I guess so. Thanks Jillian."

"No problem."

"Guys," Amber whispered loudly.

We all turned to look at her in unison. Then we noticed she was pointing at the stage. In unison again, we all turned to look at the stage. It was quite a sight. An elderly man hobbled up the stairs, barely able to hold himself up on the railing. His balding head shined in the lights on stage. He reached the top of the stairs, and turned to hobble to the middle of the stage. His hand held his lower back, as if each year he had aged added another layer of pain to it.

After a few minutes of shuffling his feet, he finally arrived at his destination. For a minute he paused to look at us through the glasses hanging on his nose. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulling a handkerchief from it. The students watched in silence as he raised the handkerchief to pat his brow. Eventually he put it away, and pulled out an old pocket watch. He fumbled with it for a minute; shaking it, holding it to his ear, and then getting irritated with it and tossing it to the floor.

The students started to mumble amongst themselves. A few fits of laughter broke out. The old man looked out into the crowd. He lifted his hand to his forehead, as if he was trying to see where the laughter came from. Eventually he gave up, and started to pat his pockets. Then suddenly he stopped moving and collapsed onto the stage.

Audible gasps were heard throughout the auditorium. One of them even came from Tiffany sitting next to me. Several students jumped to their feet. Someone asked if we should call an ambulance. The old man's hand shot up abruptly toward the ceiling. He held his index finger up. Then he let it fall again, causing the class to get worried once more.

A young woman's voice boomed from center stage. "Welcome to theater class!" The old man jumped to his feet. "My name is Miss Castile," the "old man" said.

Applause filled the front half of the auditorium. The "old man" gave a rather feminine and pronounced curtsey in the middle of the stage. It looked rather strange, but cemented the fact that it was all a ruse. Ms. Castile, still in costume, motioned for us all to sit down. She walked to the edge of the stage, and lowered herself onto the edge. Then she started to peel away a prosthetic nose.

"You all are in for a real treat," Ms. Castile said, taking off her glasses. "You get to see me without the costume."

A few students chuckled up front.

"I've had to wear this all day," she continued. "But no more!" she exclaimed in an exaggerated British accent.

Ms. Castile finished peeling the rest of her mask off. Then she pulled off the balding gray wig, and yanked a bobby pin from her hair. Her long blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulder. Without the makeup, she looked extremely young. If I were to wager a guess, I would say she was in her late twenties. Soon after removing the makeup, she started to slip out of her old brown sport coat.

She stopped with it midway down her arms. "You settle down," she said, pointing to a boy in the front. "This is not a peep show. I have clothing on underneath."

I joined in with the rest of the laughing students. Eventually Ms. Castile shed her clothing, magically removing ten pounds from her frame in the process. Beneath everything she had on black leggings and a white tunic top. Next she applied some light makeup. Then she reached into a bag and pulled out a pair of black pumps. While slipping them on, she looked out into the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman," she said, lifting her arm toward the stage. "Today I shall share the spotlight with you. For the rest of the semester, it shall be yours alone." Ms. Castile effortlessly stood back up in her new heels. "When I call your name, I'd like you to come to center stage. Share a little about yourself. Tell us what your favorite movie, play, or musical is, and why? And also why you decided to take drama?" She paused for a moment. "That is assuming you have a reason."

"I hate doing this," Tiffany said, quietly.

"You and me both," I replied. "And I didn't exactly sign up for this."

Slowly each student walked up to the stage when their name was called. Watching some of them, you would think they were walking to the gallows. The most reluctant one of all happened to be a boy. I didn't catch his name, but he stood there nearly speechless as Ms. Castile prodded the answers from him like an interrogator. Eventually he sat down, and Ms. Castile called out the next name.

"Amber Miller."

"That be me," Amber said, as she jumped from her seat. She casually strolled down the aisle, and bounced up onto the stage.

"Hi, Amber," Ms. Castile said.

"Hello," Amber said. She turned to the audience. "My name is Amber. I'm a military brat. A lot of people think that's a negative term, but it's just a silly acronym." She paused for a moment. "I've moved around a lot. I've been to… ten states now. Fifteen if you count going back to the same states. That's how many times I've moved. Most of that time I spent on military bases. Only recently we chose to live off base." She looked over at Ms. Castile. "I haven't really seen a lot of plays or musicals, so I don't have a favorite. Top Gun is probably my favorite movie though. A lot of action. Some drama…"

"And why did you take drama?" Ms. Castile asked.

"I consider myself outspoken," Amber said. "I figured I might as well put it to good use, and have fun while I'm at it."

Ms. Castile smiled. "Very good. Thank you Amber."

She started to clap, causing the other students to join her. Several more students took their turn on the stage. Eventually the class roster started dwindling down to my end of the alphabet. That feeling returned in the pit of my stomach. I'd never been on stage before. Public speaking sat about midstream in my all time list of fears. Why I decided to take this class was beyond me. The only thing that would compound the fear, is if someone knew me and outted me on stage.

"Vince Simmons," Ms. Castile said loudly.

Tiffany sat up straight, and I joined her. "I didn't know he was in this class," she said.

"Are you two still friends?" I asked.

"Hardly," Tiffany said. "I haven't spoken to him since… well… since you left, actually."

Vince strolled across the stage, stopping next to Ms. Castile. "Hi. I'm Vince," he said. "My actual name is Vincent Simmons the third, but I prefer Vince. I've always liked acting."

"He's telling the truth there," I muttered.

"I chose to take this class, because I wanted to learn more about theater," Vince continued. "I'd actually like to get into playwriting some day, and possibly become a director. My favorite play is Damn Yankees, because I also like baseball."

"Thank you Vince," Ms. Castile said, gesturing that he could leave the stage. "I'm glad you mentioned playwriting, as we will actually be doing that in this class. I'll explain that a little more after the introductions." She looked down at her role sheet. "Tiffany Stewart. You're up."

Vince paused in his descent from the stage. He glanced over at Tiffany as she rose from her seat. Slowly she walked down the aisle as Vince took his seat. Again, I couldn't stop staring at Tiffany's butt. I hardly ever stared at girls like that, but Tiffany seemed to be an eye magnet for me. Perhaps it was the fact that I had actually seen her naked butt that one summer. Maybe it stuck in my mind so well that I couldn't shake it. Or maybe she just looked so good in jeans.

"Hello everyone. I'm Tiffany," she said as she reached center stage. Then she froze. For a moment I thought she got stage fright. She took a deep breath. "When I was younger, I had an amazing friend. We used to play pretend together. We'd make up games, or stories in our head, and act them out. I always loved acting out those parts. I loved being with my friend. Unfortunately, they had to move away. I missed them dearly, and I chose to take acting to relive some of what I'd lost."

"That was touching," Ms. Castile said, as she put her hand on Tiffany's shoulder. "I'd ask you what your favorite play was, but I imagine it was one you shared with your friend."

Tiffany hurried off of the stage.

"Bailey Taylor. Come on down."

I rose from my seat. That dreaded feeling had now coursed throughout my body. I could feel it in my veins. It caused my heart to thump against my chest. Vaguely it reminded me of that feeling I got right before I would pass out. Only that had to do with severe pain; pain I had not felt since my surgery. This moment just felt like sickness. Yet, I pushed on.

My body trembled ever so slightly as I climbed the stairs. By the time I crossed over to center stage, I could feel thirty-five pairs of eyes on me. It felt like a heavy stone tied around my neck. Like they were waiting for me to collapse, or fail. Ms. Castile smiled at me as I drew closer to her.

"I love the pigtails," she said.

"Huh?" I reached up to touch my hair, and remembered my earlier episode. "Oh… I got attacked by cheerleaders at lunch."

Ms. Castile gave a slight titter. She threw her arm around my shoulder, pulling me in for a casual side hug. "Let's all give Bailey a round of applause for braving the trials and tribulations of the dreaded high school cheerleading squad."

The crowd erupted into applause and restrained laughter. At one point someone even threw in a wolf whistle. That did not meet the approval of Ms. Castile, and she frowned in the direction from whence it came. Eventually Ms. Castile let me go. She quieted the crowd. Then she turned to face me, her back to the other students.

"You look nervous," she said quietly. "Take your time." She turned to address the other students. "Miss Bailey," she said, holding her hand up toward me.

"I really don't know where to start," I said. "I've been away for a year. Stayed with my aunt in Nebraska. It was a lot quieter there. My last school only had a basketball team, and barely anyone good enough to fill it."

A few students chuckled. I glanced over at Ms. Castile, who gave me a warm smile. I took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

"Growing up… I was never really allowed to be myself. I had a stepfather who was a complete control freak of sorts. He was the reason I had to leave." Glancing at Ms. Castile again, I could tell she was worried about where I was going with this. I quickly rerouted my train of thought. "I guess you could say that acting, to me, is a way to express myself in a new way. Truthfully, I signed up for technical drama, and ended up in this class." I turned back to Ms. Castile. "But now I'm glad that happened. Because I can get that chance to express myself."

"Well said," Ms. Castile said. "And do you have a favorite play or musical?"

"I don't really have a favorite," I said. "I like quite a few. Mostly whimsical stuff like The Wizard of Oz."

"So… a general love of theater?"

I nodded.

"Well," Ms. Castile said. "I can certainly live with that." She started to clap. "Thank you Miss Bailey."

I moved off of the stage quickly as the other students finished their applause.

"Last, but certainly not least," Ms. Castile said, "Jillian Wilcox."

Jillian had already moved for the stage, apparently knowing she would be last. She passed by me, grabbing my arm. "That was really brave," she said, quietly. Then she let me go and continued up to the stage. I barely made it back to my seat before Jillian started talking.

"Hi. I'm Jillian," she said. "Or Jill. I don't mind either." She paused for a moment. "For those who don't know, my family owns a store at the mall. Sometimes…" She shrugged. "A lot of the time… I have to work there. To help out. So while everyone is having a blast running around the mall on Friday night, I'm stuck there working." She looked down at the stage for a moment. "I don't get a lot of free time for after school activities. So I try to experience them while I'm in school. I wanted to give theater a shot, so that's why I'm here." She looked back up at Ms. Castile. "My favorite musical has always been Les Miserables. I've always loved the music to it, and the story of redemption."

"Excellent," Ms. Castile said. "Thank you Jillian." She turned to the other students as we clapped for Jillian. "And thank you everyone for sharing today." After the applause died, Ms. Castile stepped to the front of the stage. "As you can see, we are vastly different from one another, and we all have a story to tell. I ask that you all respect one another while in this class. This should be an environment where we can all come in and open ourselves up. Casting away the burdens of every day life, and enjoy being in the moment." She paused for a moment to let that sink in. "Now… A little about myself. My name is Jennifer Castile. You will only refer to me by my first name if it is directly followed with the phrase, 'the auditorium is on fire!' Otherwise, it is not an emergency."

Nervous laughter broke out momentarily.

"I have a master's degree in education, and a bachelor's in theater and performing arts," Ms. Castile continued. "I've been in too many performances to count, and have directed almost as many." She stepped across the stage. "What I expect out of you, this year, is to grow in some way. Whether that be more educated about how theater works, or start your path towards breaking out as the next big Hollywood actor. It is completely up to you." She walked back to center stage and paused. "However, you will be graded on the effort you put forth in this class. You will have to perform solo and in groups."

"Please let us pick our own groups," Amber said.

Ms. Castile continued her lecture on stage. "In groups you will write and perform your own play this semester. Next semester you will write a play for another group to perform. As we become more comfortable with our fellow thespians." She held up her hand. "These will both be monitored by me. Don't expect to be forcing someone to do something they are uncomfortable with on stage." She began to walk across the stage again. "For these two plays you may have to be in costume. Again, at my discretion. Gentleman, get used to the idea of wearing a suit and tie. You might have a role that calls for it." She walked across the stage the other way. "Ladies, get used to the idea of wearing a dress with heels. You might have to do so. I would suggest practicing at home if you don't know how to walk in either. We don't want you falling flat on stage."

"I had no idea we'd get into actual play acting," Jillian said. "That actually sounds like fun."

"I agree," Tiffany said.

Ms. Castile stopped in the middle of the stage once more. "We will start next week with exploring the history of theater. Then move on to reading, and possibly performing scenes from plays. From there we will move on to monologues, and then group projects."

After another five minutes of explaining what we would be looking forward to, Ms. Castile had a few students pass out syllabuses. Jillian had been feverishly trying to scribble everything down in a notebook. I started to wonder if I should've been taking notes as well. Hopefully everything would be in the syllabus. Tiffany leaned over to me as Ms. Castile finished her lecture.

"This is gonna be a crazy year," Tiffany said. "I'm not so sure I'm ready for it."

"I think you'll do better than me," I said. "At least you have some stage presence. You had to perform ballet in front of people."

"True," Tiffany said. "But I never had to talk while doing it."

The bell rang at that time, and the students scrambled for the doors. Amber jumped from her seat once more, and stepped over in front of me.

"I hope I'm in a group with you all," Amber said. "You all seem pretty cool." She bumped my knee gently with her leg. "I'll see you bright and early, Monday morning, Bailey."

"Sure," I said. "Unless you want to hang out on Saturday?"

Amber tilted her head. "Really?"

I had no idea why I had said that, as I had no idea what my plans were going to be. "I mean if you're not busy…" I said, hoping she'd take it as a maybe.

"No," Amber said, a rush of excitement coursing through her voice. "I mean… I'll have to see. But yeah. That'd be totally awesome."

"Just let me know," I said. "Or stop by."

"Sure, sure," Amber said. "I gotta jet though. Bus won't wait forever."

"Later," I said.

Jillian and Tiffany both waved her off.

"I should go call my mother," I said, rising from my seat.

"We'll wait here," Jillian said.

I reached the aisle just as Vince approached. He nodded to me. "Bailey."

"Vince," I said, brushing past him to head to the pay phones.

As I walked away I could hear Vince tell Tiffany that he couldn't stay long. In my mind I thought that was the best news of the day. I kind of wished he would've gone away entirely. Unfortunately, he ended up in the one class that could've been potentially fun. It was like Vince was there to ruin good times. I'd already given him the benefit of the doubt once. So it would be a long road for him to gain my trust again.

"Bailey…"

I turned to face Ms. Castile. Apparently she had chased me down. "Yes, Miss Castile?"

"I don't want to be presumptuous here," Ms. Castile said. "But about what you said on stage before…" She looked over me with concern in her eyes. "Is everything okay at home?" she asked with a lowered voice.

"Oh," I said, giving her a knowing smile. "It's fine."

"Because you can talk to me," Ms. Castile said.

"My stepfather no longer lives with us," I said.

Ms. Castile nodded. "So everything is resolved?"

"Yes," I said. "But I appreciate your concern."

"Any time," Ms. Castile said. "And again… if you need to talk, don't be afraid to approach me. Okay?"

"I will," I said. "I mean… If I need to talk." I shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you Miss Castile."

"You have a nice weekend, Miss Bailey."

"Thanks," I said. "You too." I quickly departed for the phones before anyone else could track me down.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...